proofreading team at http://www.fadedpage.com aviation eagles of the sky or with jack ralston along the air lanes by ambrose newcomb author of "the sky detectives," etc., etc. published by the goldsmith publishing co. chicago eagles of the sky copyright the goldsmith publishing co. made in u. s. a. contents i ready for business ii the curtiss-robin plane iii like a night owl on the wing iv the dance of the fireflies v a battle royal vi the tear-bomb attack vii a white elephant on their hands viii the spoils of victory ix engineer perk on deck x tampa bound xi perk holds the fort xii old enemies face to face xiii when greek met greek xiv the coast guard men xv with the coming of the moon xvi the lockheed-vega flying ship xvii okechobee, the mystery lake xviii the master crook xix the scent grows warmer xx denizens of a florida swamp xxi the mysterious coquina shack xxii the man of many faces xxiii a pugnacious rattler xxiv on hands and knees xxv perk demands more water xxvi the fight at the well xxvii at bay xxviii the come-back xxix a last resort xxx fetching in their man eagles of the sky chapter i ready for business when the "big boss" at secret service headquarters in washington sent jack ralston and his pal, gabe perkiser, to florida with orders to comb the entire gulf coast from the ten thousand islands as far north as pensacola and break up the defiant league of smugglers, great and small, that had for so long been playing a game of hide-and-seek with the coast guard revenue officers, the task thus assigned was particularly to the liking of those two bold and dependable sky detectives. they loved nothing better than _action_--never felt entirely happy unless matching their wits against those of skulking law breakers--while to sup with danger, and run across all manner of thrilling adventures--that was a daily yearning with them. since so much of their work must of necessity take them over that vast stretch of salt water lying between the florida coast and the far distant mexican shore line, the wise men in washington had supplied jack with a speedy plane of the amphibian type, capable of making landings either on shore or in any of the numerous inlets dotting the coast, it being equipped with both aluminum pontoons and adjustable wheels. jack had spent several days at the capital, conferring with various high officials, being thus put in possession of every available scrap of reliable information at the disposal of the department. he had also been given documents of authority, calling upon each and every government agent in all florida to afford him any possible assistance, should he require such backing while learning the identity of the "higher-up" capitalists guilty of financing the secret clique that had been giving the revenue men such trouble recently. the fact was well known that besides the valuable _caches_ of unset diamonds, and other precious stones, coming surreptitiously into the country without yielding the customary heavy duty imposed on them, there was also being smuggled into the innumerable lonely bayous and inlets of the lengthy coast line vast quantities of contraband in violation of the eighteenth amendment, also batches of undesirable aliens like chinese, anarchists and bolsheviks, such riffraff as uncle sam had been holding off under a strict ban. so, too, it was understood that besides the fleet of swift, small power-boats employed night after night in this profitable game of mocking the treasury department, latterly the smugglers had been freighting their cargoes by means of airplanes that would be able to land the contraband stuff in lonely places far back of the low coast sections. it was therefore a monumental task, covering a wide field of operation and with constant peril hovering over the heads of the two adventurous aviators who had undertaken so joyously to spread the net and draw its meshes about the offenders. their preparations having been completed, they were waiting in an isolated little bayou surrounded by inaccessible swamps and mangrove islands ready to take off with the coming of the friendly shades of night. to those who enjoyed reading the preceding volume of this series of aviation adventures, where jack and "perk," in order to get their man--one of the boldest and most successful counterfeiters known in the annals of crime--found it necessary to fly across the mexican boundary line and snatch their victim out of an extinct volcano crater that had once been the fort of the fierce yaqui indian tribe,[ ] will think it a rather far cry for the sky detectives to be detailed to active duty some thousands of miles distant, and in the extreme southeastern corner of the republic. so it always must be with the famous secret service men--their motto, like that of our present day boy scouts, is "be prepared"; for day and night they must hold themselves in readiness to start to the other side of the world if necessary--china, japan, india, the philippines perhaps--detailed to fetch back some notorious malefactor wanted by uncle sam, and information of whose presence in distant lands has reached headquarters. as a rule it was perk's duty to see that their flying ship was well stocked with all necessary supplies, from liquid fuel and lubricating oil down to such food stores as they would require, even if forced to remain for days, or a week, without connections along the line of groceries and commissary stuff. perk himself was an odd mixture of new england and canuck blood, one branch of his family living in maine, while the other resided across the border. hence perk sometimes chose to call himself a yankee; and yet for a period of several years he had been a valued member of the northwestern mounted police, doing all manner of desperate stunts up in the cold regions of canada. he was considerably older than his gifted chum and had seen pretty hot service flying in france while with pershing's army in the argonne. it was his knowledge of aviation in general that had caused jack to pick him as his assistant when the government decided to fight fire with fire, by pitting their own pilots and aircraft against those employed by the powerful combine of smuggling aces. sometimes it chanced that jack, for good and sufficient reasons of his own, did not fully explain the necessity for making plans along certain lines. this was not because he lacked confidence in his loquacious chum's ability to keep a still tongue in his head or exercise due caution, but usually through a desire to make doubly sure of his own ground before submitting the arrangement to perk's sharp criticism, which jack valued even more than the other suspected. consequently perk, with the yankee half of his blood stirred by an ever present curiosity, wanted to know and invariably asked numerous questions in the endeavor to find a leading clue. it was in the late fall and already the advance guard of the winter tourist crowds had begun to arrive from the north, in ever increasing numbers, all set for an enjoyable winter in the sunny resorts of both coasts. jack had already made quite a thorough investigation and picked up some important clues that he meant to run down in hopes one of them might lead to definite results. the amphibian floated on the surface of the isolated bayou with glimpses of the open gulf toward the golden west forming an alluring picture as seen between the jaws of sand points, with palmettoes guarding the entrance to the sheltered nook. it was just sunset, and inside another hour the night would have advanced far enough to permit their departure on the first leg of their intended flight up the coast. perk was exceedingly fond of his pipe and choice tobacco, and looked the picture of contentment as he squatted in his seat, scratching his ankle, where a burning sensation told him he had once again been visited by the tiny but venomous red-bug pest which he hated with all his heart. "drat the little beggars," he was muttering as he kept on digging at his leg, "they sure do beat anything i ever run acrost in all my wanderin's. it ain't so bad to be slappin' at pesky skeeters, 'cause i'm used to sich bloodsuckers; but sandflies, and' jiggers, an' redbugs make a combination that'd be hard to beat." "try that kerosene again, brother," advised jack, who somehow seemed to be a favored one, since he was immune from similar attacks, and greatly envied on that account by his unlucky; pal. "yeah!" growled the usually good tempered perk, "i've rubbed that on, an' witch hazel, an' all sorts o' lotions till i guess now i smell like a stick-pot set out, with old rags smoulderin' to keep the skeets away. salt water helps a mite, but this scratchin' which i just can't let up on to save my life, makes things worse right along." thereupon he kicked off his shoes, removed his socks, and thrust both feet over the side to dabble them in the saline water of the lagoon. "keep an eye out for that big 'gator we scared off the bank a while back," warned jack, wickedly, "he might think it was a wild duck splashing, and try to pot it for his supper." "huh! mebbe now that's about the only way to get relief--let him snap the foot off an' it won't itch me any more." nevertheless, despite this reckless assertion perk quickly ceased his splashing and resumed his footgear, heroically refraining from rubbing the affected parts. after a short interval of staring at the glowing heavens, as if the sight fairly fascinated him, perk again spoke, this time finding something of more importance than insect bites to talk about. "wall," he drawled in his customary slow fashion, "here's hopin' we ain't agoin' to be knocked out in our calculations tonight, but get a line on what the boys are doin' up the coast, eh, partner?" "won't be our fault if we don't," said jack, who doubtless recognized from the signs that his mate had something in his mind, which he meant to spring on him by cautious insinuations and half questions. "a right decent crate that was we saw pass over early this morning i'd say, old hoss," continued perk, nodding his head as if to punctuate his remarks and also to cause his thoughts to flow more smoothly. "i had a good peep at it as we lay behind that bunch o' saw palmetto out front, an' unless i'm away off in my guess, she was a curtiss-robin ship--a big crate in the bargain." "they need them big in their line of business," jack went on significantly. "a full cargo of wet goods is pretty heavy, you know, perk." "you said it, partner," assented the other, grinning amiably and yet with a shade of yankee cunning. "an' what's more to the p'int the guy handlin' the stick was no slouch at his job, b'lieve me. i wonder now could he have been that oscar gleeb we been hearin' so much about since comin' down here,--got an idea he might abeen, ain't you, boss?" "just as like as not," jack told him. "huh! some go as far as to say he used to be a boche pilot in that fuss across the big water," continued perk, reflectively, as though certain memories of the long-ago had awakened in his brain--recollections that breathed of action, staccato machine-gun fire, exploding shells, and the terrible odor of gas that had poisoned so many of his former mates. "yes, they said there wasn't any doubt about that," jack asserted. "after the war was over and he couldn't find work in his home country, he managed to get to america and has cut quite a figure in flying circles. i reckon he was tempted by the big money in the smuggling game to take a job with this combine along the coast and has been fetching heaps of cargoes ashore from vessels anchored far out on the gulf, or even across from bimini or santa fe beach near havana over in cuba." "by jinks!" ejaculated perk, "that there's the place we learned they was shippin' chinks over to florida from, ain't it jack, boy?" "just what it was," admitted the other. "it seems that this big combine, made up of rich american sporting men, with a mixture of cubans and adventurers from all nations, doubles up in crashing uncle sam's coast gates with aliens, as well as hard stuff in bottles and barrels." "me, i'm jest awonderin'?" continued perk, "whether it could a'happened that this same oscar gleeb an' me ever hit it up and had an air duel tryin' to strafe each other when flyin' across no-man's-land over there. kinder like to meet up with him so we could run over our scraps an' see if one o' us sent t'other down in a blazin' coffin. it'd be funny if it turned out that way." "queer things do happen sometimes," agreed jack, yawning. "this warm day's made me feel a bit lazy but as soon as we get a move on all that will slip away like fog under the morning sun." "i say, partner, how 'bout that greek sponger we talked with when we dropped in at tarpon springs t'other day--you kinder s'pected he knew a heap more about these goin's-on than he wanted us to grab, even if we was jest s'posed to be northern tourists, bent on havin' a fishin' spree later on when big tarpon strike in around fort myers--could them spongers have a hand afetchin' in bottled stuff, or ferryin' chinks over from some island halfway point?" "some folks seem to think that possible," he was told. "after looking over the ground, and getting the opinion of a heap of people who ought to have an intelligent opinion covering the facts known and suspected, i've come to the conclusion that if ever there was a time when you could play safe by suspecting everybody you met of having some sort of money interest in this big game, it's down along the florida west coast and like as not over toward miami just the same. i'm not trusting my secrets to a living soul, saving a few government agents to whom i've been directed by my superiors--and i'm even a bit leery about some of that bunch." "yeah! from this time on seems to me we'd be wise to play a lone hand, an' not bother about takin' any gyps into our confidence, eh what, jack?" "you never said truer words, my boy," assented the other, smiling as he noted the look of pleasure flashing across the bronzed face of his pal at thus having his own opinion confirmed; for perk valued a few words of praise from jack far above any other source. "kinder get to thinkin' that greek sponger--alexis was his name, if my memory ain't gimme the bounce--was a bit o' a sharper, an' knew beans in the bargain from the way them black eyes o' his'n kept watchin' us all the time we asked questions, just like we'd heard people sayin' queer things concernin' how easy it was to grab any quantity o' bottled stuff if on'y you had the ready cash, an' a good eye for winkin'." "we may know more about alexis before we're through with this trip," was all jack would say concerning the matter. "on my part i'm shaking hands with myself because we were smart enough to camouflage our ship with green stuff for that pilot passed over and could have glimpsed our crate lying half hidden here, and through his glasses--which i understand they all carry--made out how it didn't match up with any of the aircraft they use in their business." "thanks to you, partner," perk hastened to confess. "if it all depended on my poor head i kinder guess i'd a'slipped up right then an' there an' give the hull scheme away which would a'been a danged shame, an' busted the game higher'n a kite." "we make a pretty good team, matey," said jack. "sometimes it's you that goes loco, and threatens to step off your base, and then another time i feel myself side-slipping and have to lean on you to hold my own. that's just how it should be with partners--give and take, with never a bleat if our calculations go wrong." "it's right nice o' you to talk that way, brother," perk hastened to assert, beaming with pride and making out as if tempted to begin scratching again when jack reaching around, gently steered his clutching fingers away from the itching locality, at which perk heaved a relieved sigh and nodded his thanks. "the sky has lost most of that glorious color," mentioned the head pilot, "and before long now we can be hopping-off. our first job will be to swing down the coast and learn if there seems to be anything going on among the southern islands in this beastly mangrove section where a man could easy enough lose himself for keeps among the countless water passages and inlets. see here, what's the matter with you, staring that way, perk?" "wouldn't that jar you now," snapped the other, "that robin ship is headin' back this way; or else some other crate that looks like its twin!" [footnote : see "_the sky detectives_; or _how jack ralston got his man_."] chapter ii the curtiss-robin plane jack, a bit startled by his companion's sudden exclamation, took a good look and hastened to remark: "reckon now you hit the nail on the head that time, perk and it's heading this way in the bargain. why d'ye suppose we didn't see the crate before?" "huh! i kinder guess now," perk went on to say, "she bust out o' that little fog cloud right to the south--a'swoopin' up the coast, you notice, partner, don't you?" "sure is," assented jack, as though that small circumstance assumed some importance in his eyes, as well as those of his comrade. "ginger pop! but mebee i ain't glad we didn't show any hurry to kick off this camouflage green stuff, thinkin' it'd served its purpose okay and could be knocked into the discard. see how they keep dodging' in an' out like they might be scourin' every foot o' shore line, little bays back o' these mangrove islands an' all. strikes me they're a'searchin' for somethin', jack, which might be the pair o' us, eh, what?" "right you are!" snapped jack, without hesitating a second. "which, i take it, would mean there might a'been some sort o' little leak up at headquarters, hang the luck, when we figured we'd got the gang buffaloed right smart. don't think they c'n lamp us lyin' here, do you, boss?" "small chance of that, boy, if only we lie low, and make no move apt to attract their attention," perk was told in a confident tone that effectually calmed his rising alarm. he hastened to settle down in a position where he could thrust his glasses between interstices in the green covering of the fusilage and wings so as to keep close tabs on the advancing plane without making any particular movement of arms or body. "how?" asked jack, a few seconds later, when he fancied his mate must have made up his mind as to the identity of the flying ship. "curtiss-robin crate, that's right, jack an' the same we saw before," replied the observer, excitedly. "hey! guess now they got a glass up there too. i sure saw the sun shinin' on somethin' bright, 'cause the old boy's still on deck to chaps that high up." "i've discounted that fact long ago, perk; men engaged in the desperate game they're playing night after night would need such a useful instrument, so's to keep a sharp lookout for coast guard boats or bunches of revenue men lying in ambush close to the place they expected to land a wet cargo, or a couple of high-pay chinks, it might be." "then you got an idea they must have a spy up in washington--a sneaker who c'n find out what's bein' hatched up so's to cook their goose an' that he manages to get warnin' down here to the workin' crews so's to put 'em on their guard--is that it, partner?" "looks that way--that's all i can say, perk. now lie low and don't do any talking, though with their crate kicking up all that row i reckon there'd be small chance of their hearing us even if we shouted." perk was chuckling to himself at a great rate and could not keep from taking advantage of the invitation jack had really extended to say: "yeah! an' i kinder guess now we got one thing they ain't, which is a silencer on our engine that'll keep it muzzled, even if it does knock off a bit o' our speed when we happen to use it. luckiest thing ever you managed to get the big boss to send us such a bully contrivance that seems to work jest great. listen to the racket they're kickin' up right now--enough to tell any chump ten miles off a crate's headin' his way. jerusalem crickets! but ain't i glad we're fixed as we are." the ship far up in the heavens was almost directly over them by this time and perk relapsed into silence, being vastly interested in watching it passing over. possibly he had his eyes glued on the figures--there were two occupants in the robin's cabin he could easily see--leaning over and doubtless closely scrutinizing the intricacies of the ragged shoreline below, hoping to make important discoveries. if the leading figure, piloting the craft, was actually oscar gleeb, onetime noted hun ace over in the argonne, it might be perk, with his past war history rising up to thrill him afresh, may have found himself half expecting to hear a terrific explosion close by on the shore as the german flier let drop some sort of bomb, with the idea of striking their concealed bus which his keen eyes might have detected despite their wonderful camouflage. but nothing like that came to pass and the cruising ship kept moving in a northerly direction, growing less distinct as miles were being covered at the fast clip it swept along. "cripes! that was worth somthin' to glimpse, bet your sweet life, partner," perk finally observed as he ventured to make a little movement, feeling dreadfully cramped and the danger of discovery growing momentarily less as the first shades of coming evening began to gather around the secluded cove. "jest as like as not they started away down toward the tip o' the mainland, an' hev been examinin' every mile o' the coast, bent on doin' a clean job while they're at it. an' if they meet up with no luck mebbe now they'll make up their minds it was only a false alarm, and let her go at that." presently they could no longer glimpse the faintest sign of the scout plane--when last seen it was still heading up the coast as though making for some destination where action awaited the members of its daring crew. "the passing of that crate settles one thing, anyway," observed jack presently. "as what, partner?" queried perk, who had already begun to denude the anchored amphibian of its covering, as though it was settled they need no longer fear being spied upon from above. "we needn't bother striking into the south when starting out to look for suspicious lights, such as would tell of business being put through--those boys are right now heading for their rendezvous and it's our game to chase after them, as soon as nightfall makes it safe to get a move on." "that suits me fine, jack old hoss. i'm right sick o' keepin' our nose stuck so close to the ground--me for the high places where i c'n get my lungs filled with clean air--this swamp stuff don't make no sort o' hit with me, i'm tellin' you. gosh! looky at that bunch o' measly big pelicans flappin' their wings as they fly close to the water, headin' to some island where they have a rookery, like as not. an' jack, honest to goodness if i didn't see the head an' knobby eyes o' a monster scaly 'gator stickin' up out o' the water in the lagoon jest now. got me goofy, this sorter thing, an' i'm asighin' for the air lanes two miles high." "i understand just how you feel, perk, but hold your horses a bit. hurry is something we've got to fight shy of in this game of hide-and-seek with these dangerous smugglers of the gulf coast. as smart a group of men as we can ever claim to be, have bucked up against the gang and dropped out of the chase--more than a few of whom have disappeared mysteriously, and up at headquarters it's believed they've met with foul play. this big mex gulf hides a heap of secrets and has ever since old blackbeard and that crowd of buccaneers used to sink spanish galleons after looting them of their gold cargo and sending hundreds of poor wretches to a watery grave." "i'm wise to all them facts, partner," piped up perk, grinning amiably, "an' i sure don't hanker after bein' sent down to that port o' missin' men in no hurry. i'll stick it out on this line jest as long as you say an' try to keep from grumblin'. thar goes the last o' the rotten stuff overboard, boss, an' we're all clear again. while we're a'waitin' till the last speck o' daylight slickers away, wouldn't it be right smart if we set our teeth in some o' that fine grub i laid in, to keep us from starvin' to death?" "suits me okay, buddy; suppose you trot it out and we'll pas the time away bolstering up our strength--no telling what we may have before us tonight if we happen to strike rich pay-dirt." accordingly they busied themselves with what to perk especially was a most agreeable occupation, for it must be confessed that the maine lad possessed a fairly good appetite while his capacity for storing away good things was something close to marvelous. so the night settled down around them--sounds indicative of a florida coast camping ground began to make themselves manifest--mullet jumped up out of the brackish water where some stream emptied its tide straight from the everglades into the gulf, to fall back again with resounding splashes. now and then there was a rush, and a great deal of agitation of the water close to one of the mangrove islands, showing where some fierce piratical deep water fish was making an evening meal of the unlucky mullet--several wild ducks came spinning along from other shore places to settle further in where the reedy islands offered effectual shelter from night-raiding owls and hawks that could see in the dark. "gee whiz!" perk was saying as he finished eating and started to put away what sandwiches and other stuff had been left over, "this sure must be a dandy place to do some shore shootin' an' if i hadn't other fish to fry i'd like to hang around a week'r so, takin' toll o' ducks, turkey, an' deer up on the mainland, with like as not a bobcat, or even a panther in the bargain!" "all very fine for those who are down here sporting for sport, brother," jack told him, "but our bunch has another kind of game to pull in and you've got to forget all this temptation so as to buckle down to business. reckon it's time for us to be hopping-off and getting that taste of cool, clean air a mile or so up. shake a leg, buddy, and we'll shove off." jack, of course, had long since figured just what he meant to do when the moment arrived to leave their hiding place and take to their wings again, so after their little anchor had been drawn out of the mud, carefully washed, and then stowed away where it would take little room and not be in the way, each of the occupants of the double cockpit set about carrying out their customary duties when a launching was in order. "all set, mister pilot!" remarked perk, finally, "give her the gun, boy!" with only a fraction of the rush and roar usually connected with a start, the amphibian, with cut-out choked down, commenced to glide through the water of the partly enclosed bay, heading straight for the jaws of land beyond which lay the open and mighty gulf. chapter iii like a night owl on the wing the rush and gurgle of the water parted by the pontoons beneath the fuselage of the plane was sounding most delightful to the ears of perk as he sat there watching the jaws of land draw rapidly nearer. resting up was always a painful thing to perk whose nerves called for action and had done so ever since he served in the flying corps across the atlantic when men's souls thrilled with frequent contacts in the line of equally daring hun war pilots. now they had shot past the twin points and were out upon the open gulf, their speed increasing every second as jack pulled the stick closer against his chest. then the experienced pilot lifted her in a zoom that was simply magnificent, and they were off on their adventure at last. rising fast, the boat was soon at a good ceiling for flying. so too the night promised all manner of favorable things for men of their calling--up where they were the wind did not amount to much but it was blowing at quite a lively rate closer to the earth and doubtless the broad palmetto leaves must be making a considerable slashing as they struck one another, dead and withered ones sawing like some giant violin bow. this, with the wash of the waves upon the pebbled beach, would make enough noise to effectually deaden the whirr of the propeller--the new and novel muffler or silencer, fashioned very much on the order of such a contraption as successfully applied to small firearms, was doing wonderfully, and perk every little while made motions as though shaking hands with himself because of this addition to their security, for under the usual conditions prevailing anything like secrecy in a noisy airship had been unknown to the sky detectives. perk had been under a strange hallucination when that other plane was soaring overhead--in fact he was once again back in the argonne, with his boat hugging the earth, and an enemy swooping in circles overhead--he had even gone so far as to imagine the german war ace might be maneuvering so as to drop one of his bombs straight down on the stranded craft, with results that must spell a complete wipeout. when they did not have their handy earphones in service jack and his right bower had arranged a secret alphabet of signals, consisting of all manner of pokes and nudges, by means of which they were enabled to communicate along professional lines at least. if it seemed necessary to perk to ask questions not down on the brief list thus worked out, all he had to do was to adjust jack's harness and then his own little outfit, enabling him to chatter away to his heart's content--and often to the annoyance of his less talkative chum. but first of all he proceeded to make good use of the binoculars upon which so much depended. from side to side he would swing the glasses and search for anything that looked like a suspicious light on land or water then turn to what lay dead ahead. in this region of the ten thousand islands--all fashioned from the queer spreading mangrove that drops its long seeds so that they stick upright in the mud, and, quickly developing roots, spring up to add to the dimension of the original "island" there were never at any time many settlers so that the coast has been reckoned as the "loneliest ever," on which account perk realized that if he should happen to glimpse a light, whether on land or gulf, the chances were fifty to one it might have some connection with the operations of the smuggler league. perk remembered how that curtiss-robin ship had finally disappeared in the haze lying to the north and from this he sucked more or less consolation, since it seemed evident the location of their job must lie in that quarter toward which they were now bound like a great owl swooping on noiseless pinions to seize its prey. a delicious thrill ran through his frame from time to time. if any one could "get a kick" from such a situation it was perk, who was already visioning some sort of a battle royal when they struck the smuggling gang in the midst of their lawless work. the gang did their best to create a reign of terror. once far out toward the west, where rolled the tides of the broad gulf that stretched for a distance of five hundred miles across to the coast of mexico, he certainly did glimpse a light, low down on the horizon where just the faintest gleam of the late departed day still lingered. ha! the mother ship no doubt, riding at anchor some miles out where the gulf was shallow and holding ground good--a heavily laden sailing craft, coming possibly from the bahamas, and passing into the gulf between the florida keys. its captain knowing that the cargo they carried could be much more easily landed there than around miami, where the coast guard was more vigilant. long and earnestly did perk stare, picturing the shore motorboats speeding out through the gloom toward that signal light to take aboard their several loads and make for certain secluded harbors where trucks would be waiting to transfer the illicit stuff to its destined markets where prices ranged high with the holidays approaching and rich, thirsty tourists to be supplied. "bang! it's gone blooie!" perk suddenly told himself as he no longer found himself able to distinguish that suspicious gleam which had gradually grown dim and then utterly vanished from view. "now, what in thunder does that mean i want to know--why should they douse the glim in such a hurry--wonder if they could have caught any sound from us to give 'em a scare? i'm in a tail-spin, seems like. oh i shucks! mebee it was on'y a measly star after all, that's set back o' the horizon. who got fooled that time, i want to know, gabe perkiser, you smarty?" he took it humorously, happening to be one of those sensible lads capable of laughing, even when the joke was on himself. shortly afterwards perk picked up what seemed to be a low-lying light, this time off toward the east, where he knew the land lay. "huh! i kinder guess that ain't a silly star," was the way he expressed his feelings as he continued to watch the glimmering object that rose and then grew dim, only to once more flash brightly. "might be some squatter sittin' alongside his campfire--mebbe a fishing camp, on'y i got an idea the light comes from a big lantern and not a blazing fire. strikes me it oughter bear watchin' just the same." a minute afterwards and he could no longer see the object of his concern. "by jinks! what sort o' hocus-pocus might _that_ be, i want to know--did somebody blow that light out just when i was hopin' big things might come from it, or was it only a bunch o' cabbage palms that come in between me an' the glow?" it did not reappear, although perk kept turning his glasses in that particular quarter time after time, as fresh hopes awakened. the amphibian was running as smooth as silk, perk told himself more than once--why not, when they had most carefully checked it over with scrupulous exactness, so as to be able to pronounce it in perfect condition. that new muffler did the work like magic and perk really began to feel as though the efficiency of their aerial mount had been increased a hundred per cent by the installation of such an up-to-date contrivance, even if it did cut their speed down more or less--when they had good need of swift wings it could be done away with, since racket was powerless to hurt them then. a few clouds had started up and were drifting overhead by this time. perk gave them several hasty looks, possibly wondering whether there could be any chance of a sudden blow arising since indeed they came from the southwest, where many of the rains and high winds had their brewing place, far out on the mighty gulf to be followed in turn by a "norther," cold and violent. "that might be rotten luck for us," he grumbled, sensing trouble in putting jack's scheme into operation, "but i guess there ain't anything to it--right cool even downstairs, i noticed an' they tell me it always heats up afore one o' these fall rains come along." he put that matter out of his mind as hardly worthy of attention then a minute later he made another discovery. again his attention was turned toward the west, for a light had appeared low down, a light that actually moved, this fact convincing the vigilant observer it could by no possibility be another setting star in the bright firmament above. "that's the genuine stuff, or i'll eat my hat!" was his characteristic way of confirming this fresh discovery, and there was certainly a trace of triumph noticeable in his voice, as though this would wipe out his former blunder. chapter iv the dance of the fireflies perk, now fully convinced that he had "struck oil," as he mentally termed it, laid the binoculars down on the front seat beside his pal and gave him certain nudges in his side, thereby telling him he, perk, would take over the controls while the head pilot used the glasses. when this had been accomplished perk managed to point toward the west, so as to draw the attention of his mate thither without any waste of precious time. of course jack immediately located the light and was watching it closely. he could easily make it out to be a lantern that must be on the deck of a vessel, since he discovered a mast and rigging near by, also the moving figures of several men. the lantern did not remain stationary more than a few seconds at a time, but kept up a swinging movement that was eccentric to say the least, now passing back and forth like the weighty pendulum in an old-fashioned "grandfather" clock; then with an up-and-down action and, as a windup performing a circular movement, repeated twice. of course jack understood that those on board the smuggler must be trying to signal to those of their group who were on shore, the land workers of the hard-working bunch, which conclusion caused him to turn his attention in that quarter. at first he was not rewarded by any discovery but not in the least discouraged he continued to wave his glasses back and forth, feeling certain those continuous signals from out on the gulf must be noticed and returned. he chanced to be again watching the moving gleam when he felt perk trying to gain his attention and when this had been accomplished pointing eagerly off to the east. yes, there it was as plain as anything--in fact there seemed to be two separate lights looking like twin stars and even as jack watched he saw them carry on in a most remarkable fashion. now one would be in violent motion, perhaps doing some intricate figure that had a meaning; then the other would join in, with the pair swinging back and forth, crossing each other's path, and going through the most wonderful evolutions. to jack's mind they looked like a pair of gigantic fireflies gone loco with excitement and carrying on in the most astonishing manner. indeed, he could easily picture it as a wild dance of make-believe insects on a greatly magnified scale. of course jack never had the slightest doubt as to what all this mystifying activity must be--the two extremes of the smuggling fraternity were exchanging signals--each and every movement had a meaning of its own and conveyed such information as was most valuable to the business in hand--in jack's mind it was as though the conversation might be running something after this fashion: "well, here we are on hand according to promise, with a full cargo of the finest wet stuff you ever had drop down on your coast. how does the land lie over there?" "coast all clear--we will start the fleet out to lighten your cargo right away--keep the beacon burning so they'll make a straight line to your anchorage, which will mean a saving of time." "we get your meaning--glad you are so prompt to send back word--come right along and get your invoice--the more the merrier, boys. wind getting rougher, and we ought to be off this shallow shore before it swings around any more. don't hold back--merry christmas to you all, boys!" perk on his part was also trying to keep tabs on all that was going on, not neglecting his duties with the controls, it can be set down as certain. he twisted his neck and cast swift glances first to the right and then in the opposite direction, fascinated by that flashing beacon conversation. "by gum! if they ain't holdin' a regular confab with them lights," perk was telling himself, delighted with his opportunity to witness such a proceeding, knowing as he did what this all meant to himself and jack. "that guy on shore is sure some punkins about this signal layout--works jest like a boy scout might, sending a message across to another o' the troop standin' on top o' a high peak--makes me think i'm back on the front, with signal corps men wigwaggin' for all that's out. huh! there goes them twin lights, showin' the chinnin' must be over with both sides posted on the program. say, ain't this the boss job though? i guess i never did get half as much fun outen any game i tackled before." just then jack signalled that he wished to handle the stick once more, which the other was indeed not sorry for, since it began to look as though they were close to a critical moment when considerable skill would be required in manipulating the ship so as to accomplish their ends without unduly alarming those they spied upon. already they had managed to collect a certain amount of valuable facts which were only guessed at previously, so cleverly had these transfer bases been kept concealed from the most skillful of the government agents. perk himself felt confident that they were as yet only on the threshold of still more important discoveries. it was one of perk's peculiar little eccentricities that he could do better thinking if only he had a bit of chewing gum between his teeth, just to keep some muscles at work, he said, and in some mysterious fashion having this energy pass from his working jaws to his brain and hasten its activities. so what did he do now but fumble in a pocket of his oily dungarees and produce a slab of his favorite brand, perk thrusting it into his mouth and savagely rolling it between his teeth, really believed this helped his brain to function more easily. perhaps it may have done so--some people have all manner of strange hallucinations, which, being favored, bring satisfaction to their train of thought. if perk actually believed in his remedy that was half the battle and no other person's business whatsoever. looking out to sea he could still find that lone beacon, even without the aid of his binoculars. it was easy for such an imaginative fellow to picture in his mind the lingering sloop, loaded to the gunwales with case goods, worth almost a millionaire's ransom--the dark sailors from bimimi lolling around on deck, ready to up-sail and flee should the slightest sign of a coast guard raid make itself manifest. from off toward the distant shore line there came dully to their listening ears the repeated throb of one or more speed boats hastening to lay alongside and transfer their prearranged quota of cases, after which the burden of getting the illicit cargo safely landed would rest on the shoulders of those who manned the smaller smuggler craft. it was a beautiful little game, perk was assuring himself, when he realized how everything had been arranged to make things work as though greased. as the isolated places along the gulf coast were without number and the enforcement agents woefully pressed to even half cover their allotted territory, the reason for the few arrests that had rewarded the most strenuous efforts on the part of the coast guard could be easily comprehended. "and that's just why they picked out jack, out of all the boys in the service, loaded him up with this here amphibian crate that c'n drop down on land or water, it don't matter a darn which, got him a sort o' side partner to help make things go and turned him loose to pull in the net. huh! we'll know before long just what this racket is goin' to wind up in, for we've made our first move, our hat's thrown into the ring, and we'll either make pike's peak, or--bust!" presently perk began to convince himself he could at times pick up the throbbing sound of a humming motor, undoubtedly one of those on their way out to the supply boat off shore some miles and ready to deliver such number of high-priced cases as the lists called for. yes, when the night wind veered or shifted a bit he was absolutely certain about picking up the chug-chug-chug that betrayed the presence of the leading speed boat. about this time perk noticed two separate things that had a bearing on their mission--the first was that for some reason they no longer romped along at their earlier speed, showing that the pilot had seen fit to slacken his craft to a considerable degree, though keeping up steerage way. the second thing that struck perk was the fact that they were slowly but surely making a decided swing off to the west, which if continued would make their immediate course a complete circle. "go to it, old hoss!" he was saying, just as if he expected the other to hear every word which was out of the question with that whirring propeller keeping up its low, sing-song tone. "you got 'em beat a mile when it comes to playin' safe, that's right. don't want to rile the water an' let everybody in on the fact that we're hangin' around here, waitin' for somethin' to turn up. 'sides, it ain't good policy to make the ten-strike till they got the stuff on board the chuggin' speed boat." he was intensely interested in jack's play for time and listened with his heart almost up in his throat, fearing lest the steady chugging should suddenly stop and the game be thrown by default. but no, it was keeping on in perfect rhythm, sounding in perk's ear something like the tattoo of a machine-gun in action and sending out its swarm of leaden missiles--a sound that had long ago become so familiar to his ears as never to be forgotten, despite the lapse of time. surely by now that leading boat must be getting close to the schooner so that the transfer would soon be an accomplished fact, after which the return trip was due to be started which was when they meant to break into the game. "ginger pop! if i don't ketch the grumble o' a second tug further away, and i guess now a consid'able bigger craft than the leadin' one. get a move on, fellers--the dinner gong's struck and the grub's on the table waitin' to be swallered--first come, first served's the rule things go by, so stir your stumps, an' put in the best licks you know how--an' may the devil take the hindmost. hey there! that drummin' noise, it's stopped--wonder if they got out to the sloop or else smell a rat an' are lyin' low till they make it a dead certainty? gosh, but ain't this all mighty thrillin' though, and how it does tickle me most to death," muttering which perk, still listening, actually held his breath the better to catch any sound from below. chapter v a battle royal jack, being desirous of ascertaining just what was taking place over where the sloop laden with contraband was anchored, did his best glide or coast, a feature at which he was most competent. when the engine ceased to function and the whizzing propeller lost much of its dizzy momentum, both he and perk strained their ears so as to catch any sound calculated to inform them as to what was going on. the trick proved worth while, for plainly they could make out human voices; also a certain rumbling sound that jack imagined might be caused by the rush back and forth of a small hand truck on which cases of imported liquid refreshment were loaded. this told the story to the effect that the speed launch must have reached the schooner and was lying alongside with its intended cargo being delivered with no loss of time. probably, if everything went with machine-like precision, the speed boat would soon be fully laden and started back toward some secret haven where big motor trucks would be waiting to transport the cargo to tampa, st. petersburg, or some other city to the north. meanwhile the second boat was due around that time--they could hear her hoarse exhaust as she bucked the billows rolling in toward the shore line and a moving light about half a mile distant betrayed her position. if one thing tickled perk more than another just then it was the realization that he and jack held aces in the game--their possession of that almost priceless muffler, by means of which they could approach fairly close without the working motor betraying their coming, gave them an enormous advantage. "we sure have got the upper hand in this tangle," perk was telling himself in great glee as he listened to the chugging of the second transfer boat. "huh! i kinder guess them guys been sleepin' at the switch not to savvy what a bully thing one o' these here silencers'd be to the smugglin' game. looks like it might be a walk-over for our team, if the luck on'y holds good." jack had about decided on his course of action. he did not mean that either of those boats should get safely ashore with their loads, if he had anything to say about it, and he reckoned he had. still, it was not politic to be too quick on the trigger--they could just continue to hang around and be ready to pounce down on their intended prey after the fashion of a hungry eagle striking a fat duck that had been selected out of the flock on the feeding grounds. one thing he did do was to cut his intended wide circle short and again head toward the scene of action, a move that certainly afforded the eager perk more or less satisfaction, he being thrilled with the expectation of breaking into the game without much more loss of time. but you never can tell just what may happen when rival forces are striving against one another. the best laid plans often go wrong and there was always a chance of the unexpected happening. hardly had the airship whipped around again so as to head into the north than perk became aware of the fact that there was a sudden accesssion of weird noises springing up from the goal toward which they were now aiming. jack, too must have caught the increased volume, for he sheered off as if to hold back a bit so as to grasp the meaning of the new racket. men were no longer simply talking or laughing as they so cheerfully labored in transferring some of the contraband from the sloop to the deck of the speedboat--their voices were raised to shouts in which surprise, even the element of near-panic, could be detected. then came a flash, succeeded by a sharp report, undoubtedly standing for the discharge of some species of firearm! others of a similar character immediately followed until there were all the elements of a genuine rough and tumble fight discernible in the growing confusion and uproar. perk was astounded by such unaccountable goings-on. whatever could possess these smugglers to start a fight among themselves, when such a disturbance was likely to be heard by any coast guard boat that might happen to be cruising within ten miles of the spot and bring down all manner of serious trouble on their heads, certainly breaking up the fine combination that had been effected for that especial delivery? "holy smoke! they sure must a'gone looney!" perk was telling himself, lost in wonder and dismay, for he began to suspect that this would be apt to mix their own plans and upset all jack's calculations. it would seem to be the only explanation possible--that some of the case goods had been tampered with, the result being that the willing workers were not only hilarious, but ready to start a rough-house then and there on the deck of the schooner. then suddenly remembering how both he and jack had their head-phone harness attached, and could thus exchange words when they pleased, perk broke loose in his usual impulsive fashion, seeking the light which he somehow had reason to believe his chum could give him. "gee whiz! partner, what's broke loose, would you say?" he demanded. "them guys act like they'd been tryin' out the high power stuff they fetched all the way from the bahamas. danged if it don't sound to me like a reg'lar old irish tipperary fair fight--listen to 'em shootin' things up to beat the band! say, if they keep agoin' like that, they'll smash every case they got an' we won't find any evidence to grab. got a line on the racket, old boss?" "it's a fight, and a lively one at that," admitted the pilot, "but i reckon you're away off when you figure it's a ruction between those on the schooner and the boys of that speedboat." "you got me guessin' partner," said the puzzled perk; "then who's mixed up in the shindy, i want to know?" "sounds a whole lot like hijackers to me, perk." "ginger pop! is _that_ what it means then, jack--some tough guys been out there on the gulf keepin' a close watch on the schooner that came up the coast loaded to the gun'ls with case goods, an' crept in with small boats to make a big haul! listen to 'em squabble, will you, boy? what wouldn't i give for daylight so's to see that boss shindy--shootin' keeps a'goin' on like the old days over there--wow! they must be a bunch o' rotten marksmen, or the whole lot'd be wiped out afore this time. what're we a'goin' to do 'bout it, jack--we ought to have some say what's to be done with all that stuff--no use bein' eagles o' the skies if we gotter stick around an' let a measly set o' hawks get away with the game." "don't worry, that's what we're _not_ aiming to do!" snapped jack, as he banked, and once again headed in the direction of the spot where all that wild commotion was taking place. "i get you, boy--the machine-gun, is it?" barked perk, starting up from his seat as though to make ready. before he could throw off his head-harness jack stopped him. "wait--you got me wrong--let the gun lie where it is. you know we never expect to use it unless our lives are in danger. get the bombs, perk--the simple tear bombs--they ought to fill the bill!" perk evidently not only understood now but was fully in sympathy with the scheme jack had hatched out under the spur of necessity--quick thinking was one of young ralston's strong points and his cleverness along those lines had served him wonderfully on more than a few previous occasions, where the situation looked desperate. they were sliding down a steep glide with the engine shut off. the deck of the nearby schooner was plainly visible due to the lights aboard, and the successive discharges of firearms, each looked like a miniature flash of lightning. as they approached the scene of confusion the racket grew in volume,--a dozen men seemed to be whooping things up as though under the impression that the battle could be won by sheer noise--and broken heads. perk kept his wits, and managed to locate the small stock of tear bombs that had been given into their charge, with the idea they might find them more or less useful should they strike a superior force of reckless law breakers and get into what perk would call a "jam." already he had succeeded in clutching a couple of the round missiles that were charged with the acrid gas that could play such havoc with human eyes as to render the strongest men as weak as babes and settled down in a position where he could throw them to advantage. chapter vi the tear-bomb attack it was certainly a thrilling moment for perk as he crouched there in his awkward cubicle back of the pilot and waited for the proper second to arrive when his accuracy at throwing the bombs would be tested. jack meanwhile had his hands full attending to his part of the business--it was of course of prime importance that they should drop down as close to the deck of the schooner as possible so the full effect of the bursting tear-bombs might be felt by those struggling smugglers and hijackers, but there was the mast of the cruising vessel to bear in mind since it towers many feet in the air. to strike this spar would entail danger of a crash, or having their landing-gear torn away, which would prove a disaster. consequently jack held himself in readiness to once more start his engine when sufficiently near the object of his attack. perk knew just when their downward velocity terminated, for not only were they again on a level keel, but the motor commenced working with its customary intensity and the whole fusilage quivered as usual when they were under way. all this had consumed mere fragments of a minute and perk had already drawn back his hand to make ready for his first toss. it was his intention to follow this up with a second bomb, hurled in double-quick order, for a dual fire would make the results more complete. jack left it completely to his comrade to decide just when to let fly, relying on the lessons perk had taken along those lines in order to make himself as near perfect as possible. if it so chanced that their initial attack turned out to be futile, it was always possible for the fighting airship to swing around so as to permit a second attempt. much would depend on just how those who were struggling like mad wolves on the deck of the schooner to gain or retain possession of the spoils took the attack from the air. jack rather fancied they would be panic stricken at having a grim spectre of the skies descend on them like a plunging eagle and before they could possibly recover sufficient energy to strike back, the monster roc must have winged past, and the pungent gas started to affect their eyes, rendering them frantic with a threatened temporary blindness. then perk began his share of the vicious attack. he followed out his prearranged programme with machine-like movements, sending his first bomb with such cleverness that it struck close to the stern, for jack had made his hawk-like swoop so as to pass completely along the entire length of the deck--this in order to give his working pal a better chance to fulfill his assignment. even before that missile struck, perk had instantly changed the other bomb to his eager right hand and in a rapid-fire way sent it, too, hurtling downward, to crash further on close to the bow. then they were speeding into space beyond the bowsprit of the anchored rum-runner, with jack starting to climb in order to bank and swing around, so as to complete the job if his first endeavor lacked in any detail. lucky indeed for the two aviators that they had their goggles on, else they too might have suffered from the fumes that so quickly spread in every direction as though fanned by the night breeze. perk afterwards admitted that he had caught a whiff of the penetrating gas despite the covering helmet and close-fitting goggles but thanks to the haste with which jack carried their ship past, the gas had little or no effect. the clamor still continued, if anything, redoubled, for now the element of fear had gripped the hearts of every man on board both boats as they felt that terrible, unseen agency stabbing at their eyes and making the stoutest writhe with agony and alarm, thinking they must be doomed. jack could easily comprehend why they should be demoralized under the prevailing conditions--there had been enough excitement in the air to start with when the hijacker crowd boarded the rum-runner and joined issues with the crews of the two allied boats but when from out of the skies there descended a swooping monster, apparently about to fall upon them as might a stray meteor from unlimited space in the firmament, and that strange, racking pain gripped their eyes, nothing but panic could describe their condition with any degree of accuracy. but one element was now lacking in the dreadful turmoil--perk could no longer detect the quick percussion of blows, as fists and clubbed firearms clashed against human bodies backed by a fierce anger that had been fanned into a blaze by injuries received and a sense of impending victory, with the spoils in sight. apparently every man among them was thinking of nothing save his own individual sufferings and terror--unable to see with any degree of certainty, they must be staggering this way and that, colliding with each other and then one by one either falling into the water or else jumping aboard the speedboat so conveniently nearby. jack had by this time brought the ship around again so as to head into the wind as before. perk, divining that this meant a second slash at the mob on the sloop's deck reached out for another relay of missiles. now that he had got started he was in prime condition to "keep the ball rolling" until there did not remain a single hijacker or smuggler aboard the rum-runner. but jack, more inclined to pity than the former war ace, did not make that second dip--he had a good idea the punishment thus dealt out with their initial swoop would be severe enough to clear the deck and set the late rival forces to quitting the vicinity of the ill smelling sloop with the utmost speed, regardless of the means employed to accomplish such a retreat while the going held good. perk could hear splash after splash, as though the frenzied sufferers in their agony had been seized with the possibility of cooling water being a sovereign remedy for the ills that had so suddenly gripped their aching eyeballs. perk was chuckling to himself, even as he continued to crouch there, and held a third tear bomb ready for instant use when jack was pleased to give him a fitting opportunity to throw it. "zowie!" he was telling himself, "if that don't make me think o' the times when us boys lined up on a dock and made the dive, one right after another--plunk--plunk--plunk! go to it, you terriers--swim for the shore, boys, and good luck to you all. our job'll be to pick up the rum-boat with her juicy cargo, an' hand her over to some government official jack knows about around these diggings. high--low--jack an' the smugglin' game--that spells the hull thing i kinder guess!" perk was by no means so lacking in sagacity not to understand just why his comrade was hanging fire and keeping at a respectful distance from the sloop. he wished sufficient time to elapse so that most of the penetrating gas from the tear bombs would be carried off on the night wind and it might be reckoned safe for them to go aboard. he could vision the terrified hijackers after their speedy plunge overboard managing to find their several boats and dragging themselves over the gunwales with but one thought in their bewildered minds, and that to put as much distance between themselves and the rum-runner as possible. he even told himself he could catch the sound of splashing and oars working madly in the locks, although this may have been only imagination on perk's part, but for one thing, he did glimpse a moving light and could detect a chugging movement such as would accompany the inglorious flight of the speedboat, racing for some shore harbor. silence followed, as though all the human elements in that late wild tumult had managed to leave the scene of their defeat. still jack continued to swing around in a short circle, showing how even with the spoils of victory close within their reach he could keep to his standard maxim of "watch your step!" minutes passed, and it went without question that the penetrating gas must be well swept away by the night wind so that it would be safe for them to board their prize and take a quick inventory of the illicit cargo. perk knew the time for action had arrived when he felt the plane head toward the surface of the gulf, as though it was jack's intention to drop just back of the sloop's stern when they could taxi alongside and readily climb to the low deck. there was nothing surprising about their coming in contact with the surface of the water--jack had acquired a habit of making perfect landings whether ashore or with pontoons. knowing this, perk never looked for anything else. they came down with hardly any more of a splash than a pelican might have made and almost instantly jack started taxiing ahead in the direction of the nearby anchored sloop. perk had set the third tear-bomb down with the belief that there would be no necessity for his using it. silence hung about the sloop, and he had decided there could be no one around, unless, when they clambered over the side, they should discover some poor chap who had succumbed to the provoking gas or else been stunned by a blow in the wild melee that had raged previously. just the same wise old perk did not mean to be caught off his guard and so he dragged out a formidable looking automatic, supplied by the secret service to all its accredited agents as a means for compelling a surrender on the part of any "wanted man" when overtaken in his flight. the head-phones had been disconnected so there was nothing to hinder a prompt boarding of the captured boat when jack gave the word. with the glorious flush of victory thrilling his whole frame perk stood by to fend off as they drew close to the squatty stern. it would be his duty to clamber out on one wing and get aboard, carrying a rope by means of which the floating airship could be secured to the water craft. this he managed to accomplish without much difficulty, wondering while so doing whether he and jack might not be making history, for he suspected that never before in the annals of aviation had an amphibian plane been afforded a chance to take a prize of war in such an original fashion as bombarding the enemy crew with tear-gas bombs and causing them to flee in mad haste. it was an exultant perk who stood erect on the deck and waved his flying helmet with the proud air of a neophyte hunter planting his foot on the body of his first slain lion or tiger. chapter vii a white elephant on their hands "come on in, jack old hoss, the water's fine!" was the way perk greeted his chum after gaining the deck of the captured rum-runner. "first make that rope fast somehow so we'll run no risk of losing our floating crate," jack advised him. "yeah, that's just what i'm goin' to do, buddy," continued the other, as he proceeded to make fast to the sloop's wheel after which jack managed to clamber aboard. there were lanterns scattered around, and in the haste with which the afflicted crew had abandoned their ship no one had bothered about extinguishing them. by means of the meagre illumination afforded by them, the two airmen were able to take a fairly comprehensive survey of their surroundings. "huh! i kinder guessed we'd find a bunch o' the scrappin' critters stretched out, an' lookin' all bloody like," ventured perk, with possibly a shadow of regret in his voice and manner, "but shucks! never a one do i set my lamps on. here's a case or two o' wet goods been busted open, seems like, in all that kickup an' mebbe now some o' the wild boys got a taste that helped keep 'em in the roarin', tearin' fight they had but looks as if every man must a' been mighty keen on jumpin' his bail. wow! i can't blame 'em any, if the way my eyes feel is a fair sample o' what they got served out to 'em!" "you said it, partner," echoed jack, "but keep from rubbing it in, if you know what's good for you. the gas is being carried away right along by the breeze, so let's forget it and take a look around." "let's," echoed perk, always more or less curious and eager to "peek" when the chance offered. it seemed as though they were alone on the anchored sloop that was rising and falling on the long rollers coming in off the wide gulf. piles of cases lay on the deck around them, ready to be transferred to such smaller craft as were expected to draw alongside with orders for them from some mysterious central clearing house. possibly there were many more similar packages down below, for the sloop was evidently heavily laden. now and then the voluble member of the firm would let out a crisp exclamation as though those keen eyes of his had run across some visible sign of the recent rough-house disagreement that tickled him more or less. "we sure broke in on a sweet little party all right, jack," he observed, at one time with a chuckle, "see, here's a broken bottle that i guess must a' been smashed on some poor guy's bean and from the blood spots hereabout he had a plenty, but still he managed to skip out when the grand march started. an' looky what i found--a coat that's tore into shreds. gee whiz! but that was some hot tamale scrap, believe me. i'd give somethin' for a chance to look in on the round." jack was apparently puzzling his own head over something that did not hit him as so very humorous. "yes," he told perk, with a grimace, "we've made a bully capture all right, partner, but when you come to think twice it may be we've got a white elephant on our hands after all." "huh! what d'ye mean by sayin' that, old pal?" questioned the other, who apparently saw nothing in the affair calculated to create any tendency toward dismay in his mind. "you got me in a tail spin, partner--lift the lid, won't you, an' gimme a look in?" "well, we've got the rum-boat okay, haven't we?" demanded jack. "looks thataways, i guess," perk admitted. "just so, and what d'ye reckon we're going to do with it?" continued the head pilot, hitting straight from the shoulder as usual. "why--er--ginger pop! that's so, old hoss, _what?_ mebbe now the shoe's on the other foot, an' it's the blamed sloop that's got us held up. would it be proper to set the bally boat afire and see all this hot stuff go up in flames? or we might knock a hole in the bottom, an' sink her right where she stands, though that might get us in dutch with our people, since the rum-runners could come around an' salvage this case stuff again. only way to settle the puzzle'd be for us to have a bargain day sale, opening case after case, knockin' the neck off each and every bottle and makin' all the fish in this corner o' the gulf dizzy with a mixture o' rum an' seawater." jack laughed at hearing all this wild stuff come from the bewildered perk. "strikes me i'm not going to get much satisfaction from you, partner," he bluntly told the other. "our folks expect to see some evidence to prove the big yarn we're bound to tell--about our dropping those tear bombs and scattering the fighting hijackers and rum-runners and all that stuff which means that by hook or by crook we've just _got_ to get clear with this sloop and all the contraband that's aboard--hand it over to some of uncle sam's agents along the gulf coast, whose addresses i was given before leaving washington, to be used in just such circumstances as these. so try again, and see if you can suggest some way it can be put through." thereupon perk started scratching his tousled head in a fashion he always followed when given a problem to solve, since his wits were apt to be a bit rusty and in need of oiling so as to cause them to function properly. "wouldn't that jar you?" he finally exploded, "we jest can't load our crate with the bally stuff, 'cause it couldn't lift a tenth o' the cargo we grabbed so easy-like. an' as to towin' the sloop after us by a hawser, it'd be too much like a caterpiller creepin' along. i own up it's got me buffaloed. jack, an' if anything's goin' to be done it's bound to come out o' your own coco." "no hurry at all, brother," the other told him, little chance of those lads making back this way in a hurry, since they got the scare of their lives tonight. "let's look around some more and possibly a suggestion will pop up to give us the glad hand and see us out of the mire." "suits me okay old hoss," agreed perk, nodding his head confidently as though he had known all along that such a clever partner as jack would have a spare card up his sleeve to play when things began to look unusually gloomy. perk picked up one of the lanterns, for he knew they would need some sort of illumination if they intended to explore the regions below deck which he termed the "hold," not being much of a sea-going man, although capable of filling quite a number of different callings from engineer to air pilot. he had not taken half a dozen steps after descending the short flight of steps leading below when he came to a sudden halt. "glory be! what was that?--sounded real like a groan, jack!" he exclaimed, trying to peer into the gloom of the hold, where there seemed to be row after row of the same type of wooden cases with foreign inscriptions burned on them. "just what it was, perk," agreed his chum, pressing close behind the holder of the lantern, "lift the light a bit, i think i can make out something stretched out flat--yes, it must be a man, i'm certain." "kinder guessed we'd run across one or two o' the scrappers knocked out an' left behind in the getaway rush," commented perk who had drawn his automatic before starting to explore the lower regions of the rum-runner, not knowing what they were apt to meet there. he continued to advance, and presently they were bending over a dismal looking object, undoubtedly a man who might be a member of the crew, judging from his rough sea clothes and his bare feet. there could be no question but that he had been in the fight, since his face was bloody and his general appearance betokened rough treatment. undoubtedly he had been senseless at the time the tear-gas penetrated every part of the small vessel, and was only now coming to. jack lost no time in examining the pitiful looking object while perk waited to hear what his verdict would be. after all the old fighter bore no malice toward any of these reckless men who were so assiduously engaged in breaking the law of the land by running contraband goods into uncle sam's domains and he was just as willing to bind up the wounds of this luckless adventurer as if the other had only been an ordinary sailor in sore trouble. "nothing serious, it seems," was jack's decision. "he has had a pretty hard knock that started the blood from his nose and as like as not laid him out here senseless for there's a fine big lump on his head." "so we'll have _one_ prisoner to fetch in after all," chortled perk, as if pleased by the prospect of being able to produce a witness to testify to the work they had just accomplished. chapter viii the spoils of victory "take hold, perk," continued jack, without losing any time. "we've got to get this poor chap out in the open air for it's pretty bad down below here, and bothers my eyes more or less." so between them they managed to carry the wounded rum-runner to the deck, where he was laid down, still groaning, although showing no other signs of life. "step lively, brother, and see if you can run across any fresh water, so's to pour a little down his throat," jack went on to say. "i can dip up some salty stuff by reaching down over the gun'l and mop his forehead so's to fetch him around." "okay, boss!" snapped the ever ready perk, "kinder guess i spied a barrel with a faucet--hope now she don't hold spirits instead o' water. watch my smoke, that's all." he was indeed back in what he would term a "jiffy," bearing a battered and rusty tin kettle in his hand which proved to contain something that might, with reservations, be called "drinking" water though it proved to be lukewarm and possibly full of "wigglers," as the larvae of mosquitoes are called. jack raised the man's head, which he had succeeded in washing to some extent, and forcing open his mouth allowed some of the contents of the pannikin to drain down his throat. this set him to coughing and so he came to, showing all the signs of bewilderment that might be expected after going to sleep in the midst of a most clamorous battle with the reckless hijackers, and now waking up to find strange faces bending over him, heads that were encased in close-fitting helmets and the staring goggles of airmen. "you're all right, brother," jack assured the man, on seeing how alarmed he appeared to be. "your crew skipped out and deserted you, but we'll stand by. consider yourself a prisoner of uncle sam, although you'll not be punished any to speak of if only you open up and tell all you know about the owners and the skipper of this smuggler craft. what's her name and where are you from?" the man had by this time recovered sufficiently to understand what was required of him. jack's manner was reassuring, and he came out of his half panic so as to make quite a civil reply to the questions asked. so they learned that the sloop had been known as the _cicade_, which jack knew to mean a locust and that her home port was in the bahamas, hot-bed of the smuggler league, bimini, in fact, being its chief port of departure. "what're we goin' to do with this chap?" perk was asking. "we don't want him to give us the slip, since he's the on'y prisoner we got, do we, partner?" "i reckon not, brother, and to make certain that doesn't happen we'll have to tie him up or fasten him to the mast here while we finish looking around. i hope to run across the ship's papers, if they've got any such things aboard." "leave that to me, jack, i'm some punkins when it comes to splicin' up a prisoner o' war, so he can't break away." perk proved himself a man of his word by securing a piece of rope, wrapping it several times around the ankles of the seaman, and finishing with a succession of hard knots such as would require the services of a sharp knife blade when it came time to liberate the captive. the man was a pretty tough looking customer, thanks to the treatment he had met with in the merry time the rival parties had had aboard the sloop, but at least he knew when he was well off and something in jack's manner as well as his voice told him these strangers would go easy him if only he gave them as little trouble as possible. so once again the pair set out to finish their exploration of the object of their latest "strafing" feat when a battle had been brought to an abrupt close with all hands in full flight simply by a dextrous movement of perk's arm and the tossing of a couple of innocent looking tear-bombs into the midst of the warring factions. this time it was jack who made the discovery. perk saw him step over, while they were still on deck, and lift a ragged tarpaulin that seemed to cover some bulky object toward the stern of the sloop. after that one look jack gave the well-worn covering a hitch and a toss that sent it flying revealing something that caused perk's eyes to stick out with astonishment, not mentioning a sudden spasm of delight. "wow! what's this i'm seein' partner?" he yelped joyously. "a reg'lar engine or i'm a crocodile from the nile! why, this must be what they call an auxiliary craft, fitted to use canvas or hoss power, whichever fills the bill best. you c'n ditch me if this ain't what i'll call luck. an' heaps of it." "i had a sneaking suspicion we'd run across something like this," confessed jack, who nevertheless seemed just as well pleased as his comrade over the find. "it's taking too big a chance to ship a cargo as rich as this one in a tub like this with only rotten sails to speed the craft if she happened to run afoul of a revenue cutter or one of those new sub-chasers the coast guard's been fitted out with. and now the problem's been solved, just as we hoped it would be." "meanin' we c'n get somewhere without tryin' to tow the rum-boat behind our crate, and making a long and tiresome job o' it, eh what, partner?" perk suggested, with considerable animation. "take a look at this engine, perk, and tell me if you reckon you could run the thing if it became necessary." accordingly the other investigated and it was not long before he ventured to give his decision. "seems okay to me, boss. course i can't jest say for sure till i tries it out, but the chances are three to one she'll work for me." "we'll soon have a chance to put that to the test, for it's our only way to hang on to our spoils and have something to turn in for the night's work." "i'm laughin' to see how things keep happenin' jest to suit our crowd, old hoss," perk went on to remark, still chuckling at a great rate. "do we tow the ship behind the sloop, partner?" "not that you could notice," he was informed. "i aim to have you stick to the rummy, while i get up a thousand feet or so and kind of play the part of an aerial scout, just like you've told me you used to do when you were running one of those war sausages, known as blimps in these up-to-date times. no objections, have you, perk?" "what, me? i should guess not," the other exploded. "why, it'll be jest a rummy time with this kid, runnin' off with the old sloop and a prisoner on board to boot. i'm tickled pink to know we're right in action at last, after waitin' so long, an' ding-dongin' around till we both got stale. but how 'bout draggin' that ere mudhook up off the ground--think we c'n tackle the job between us, jack?" "oh! that can be put through without much trouble, i reckon," perk was assured by the confident one. "i think if you investigate you'll find they've got some sort of winch, a bit like the old-fashioned windlass we used to wind up whenever we pulled the old oaken bucket up from the country well. let's take a peek and make sure." it took them but a minute to have jack's guess verified, for there was a winch, with the rope of the anchor attached; all that would be necessary was to start winding and by main strength the anchor must be hauled out of the mud and lifted to the vessel's bow, there to hang until needed again. "no use of our stickin' 'round these diggin's any longer, partner," perk suggested. "the canvas is all clewed up or reefed, whatever they call it, so we won't have it flappin' around after the ship gets under way. say the word, boss, an' leave the rest to me." "but nothing has been said as to what port we're meaning to strike out for," observed jack, "and that's a matter of considerable importance. first of all it would be apt to queer our business some if we sailed openly into tampa, st. petersburg, or even key west; for some of those smart newspaper reporters would be bound to get on to the facts and like as not we'd have our pictures printed in all the papers. a fat chance we'd stand to do any more work ripping this contraband conspiracy up the back, after _they_ got through telling things." "well, i guess now that would queer our game, wouldn't it, partner?" bleated the annoyed perk, then brightening up as he eyed his chum in a suggestive fashion as though anticipating further interesting remarks along that particular line, he went on to add: "s'pose i'm let into the plan i know you've got all fixed up for us to foller." "all things considered," began jack, thus urged, "i reckon it would be the best scheme if we managed to get the rum-runner anchored back in that big bunch of mangrove islands on the outer edge of which we lay low with our crate so nicely camouflaged. for that matter we could cover the deck the same way, since it'll be from the air most likely the danger is bound to come--through oscar gleeb, the german ex-war pilot." "sounds good to me, buddy!" snapped perk, grinning. "i'll swing around overhead, and have my eye peeled for any sign of trouble," continued jack, "and also keep tabs on you while on the trip south. of course we don't know just what speed you can coax out of that rusty old engine, but even at a minimum of six or eight miles per hour, we surely ought to get in hiding before sun-up." "easy enough, boss, and mebbe long before," perk agreed. "didn't you get the far away grumble of a marine engine working just when we climbed aboard this junk--i didn't say anything at the time, but i guessed as how it might be that second tub turnin' tail an' puttin' for the shore." "i made up my mind that was what it stood for," jack told his companion. "they listened to all that terrible racket and just made up their minds it was too hot out this way for them to make the riffle. oh, well! two may be company, but three's considered a crowd and we might have found we'd bitten off more than we could chew, so what does it matter?" "we've gathered in the booze," perk was saying proudly, "or most of it anyway, together with the rum-runner, and one o' the crew to turn state's evidence, so what else could we wish for--i for one don't feel greedy. plenty more where this one came from, and the smuggling season is long. what we got to pay most attention to is liftin' the lid, so's to find out just who the big guns are, backing this racket an' chances are we're on the right road to doin' that this very minute." "that's correct, perk, but let's get a move on and be going." chapter ix engineer perk on deck everything else being in readiness jack and his muscular comrade started to work the deck winch in order to get the anchor "apeak," as perk called it, being desirous of showing off with his limited knowledge of things nautical. "she's amovin' okay, old hoss!" gasped perk who had been doing considerable straining, anxious to display his ability as a mudhook lifter. "a few more good pulls an' we'll have the old gink where we want it." the task being completed, the sloop began to move backward, very much like those fiddler crabs perk had watched retreating before his attack on one of the sandy florida beaches. "looks like i'd better go aboard our ship and get away from here before anything happens to disable a wing," jack hastened to remark, sensing possible trouble which would be in the nature of a serious calamity just then. "go to it then, matey," perk told him, light-heartedly enough, "i'm ready to do my stuff as a half-cooked engineer. don't worry a bit about my gettin' there with both feet if the bally motor only holds together. don't like its looks any too much, but then lady luck seems to be givin' us a heap o' favors, so we're goin' to finish after the garrison style--heavy on the home stretch." before perk reached the last word his chum had gained his seat in the cubbyhole of the amphibian, and almost immediately called out: "cut that rope and let me get away, partner--hurry up before i get another and harder bump!" ten seconds afterward the airship was entirely free from contact with the drifting sloop. then came the roar of the motor showing that jack had given her the gun. instantly there was a forward movement of the amphibian, which increased rapidly until it was rushing along with great speed presently lifting its nose toward the heavens and leaving the rolling surface of the gulf, soared aloft in repeated circles. perk, after seeing that his pal was well on his way, turned his attention to his own job. he had no particular trouble in coaxing the engine to start, although it did considerable "grunting" as though its joints might be rusty and in need of lubricating oil, thus telling that the late skipper had allowed his engineer to neglect his duties in a climate where the salt in the air always rusted the inside of gun barrels, machinery of all descriptions, and in many ways played havoc with exposed metal parts. however, after the engine got well warmed up it began to work more smoothly so that perk lost some of his first anxiety. "goin' to get along okay i guess," he assured himself and then, keeping the prow of his vessel headed due south, he found time to try and discover where jack and his soaring crate might be. the engine was a gas motor and well supplied with an abundance of fuel, since the winds on their recent voyage around the florida keys must have been favorable as a whole and with the motive power idle there had been no drain on the gas. perk was feeling prime at that particular moment in his checkered career. it afforded him much pride to thus be in sole charge of a captured rum-runner with a cargo of contraband aboard. then, too, all doubts concerning his ability to serve as an engineer were already dissipated for the sloop was making fair time and carried a bone in her teeth, as the white lines of foam running out on either side attested. perk was softly singing to himself some marine ditty he had picked up in the course of his adventurous life afloat and ashore and which had for a title "rolling down to old mohea"--it thrilled him to the core to feel that he was luckily able to afford jack just the assistance the other required so as to perfect his plan of campaign. now he believed he could glimpse the amphibian overhead--yes, the moon, poking her nose out from behind a bank of clouds, allowed him to make certain--jack had swung back and was circling, so as to keep the sloop within range of his vision. "just like a guardeen angel," mused the enraptured perk, standing at his post and sending frequent curious as well as proud glances aloft, "as he told me he meant to be. say, ain't this simply great stuff we've struck?--never felt so joyous in all my life as when i smashed them two tear-bombs down on the deck here an' busted up that fightin' mob. zowie! how quick they got a move on, every single man but the one lone dickey we found knocked out down below-stairs. ev'rything movin' along like silk--who cares whether school keeps or not, with us boys on the top wave o' success." then he concluded to stop premature boasting, knowing very well that as in a game of baseball nothing is settled until the last man has been put out. so the voyage down the coast continued steadily enough, the minutes running along into hours, with faithful perk keeping steadfastly at his new job. from time to time he would find the plane hovering directly over his head, and was able to catch certain signals which he could understand because of a previous arrangement he and jack had. although the moving sloop was not over a mile or so from the shore line, it was next to impossible for perk to catch a fleeting glimpse of land, so as to get his bearings. "huh!" he told himself at one time after he had received instructions to draw a bit further toward the open gulf, as he was approaching some point of land jutting into the water, and thus making a shoal possibly covered with coon-oysters, on which he was apt to pull up hurriedly with disastrous results, "this here is like flyin' blind at a five thousand-foot ceilin',--jack, he c'n see the land by usin' the night glasses, so it's a good thing i c'n get tips from him right along. gee! this sure is gettin' some monotonous, keepin' this old motor hummin' when it's on the blink so bad. must be a wheen past midnight, i'd say, an' we ought to be clost to them ten thousand islands by now." he had been keeping close watch on the stars and although making no claims to being a first-class woodsman, perk could tell the time of night by the heavenly bodies setting one after another, which would account for his late confident assertion that morning could not be so very far distant. once only during all this time did perk happen to see a far distant light out at sea. it interested him more or less and naturally caused him to speculate as to whether it might have any connection with the great game in which he and jack were now engaged. everything he had ever heard or read connected with the mexican gulf seemed to pass in review through his active mind--there was a halo of romance hovering about that historical sheet of salt water and while perk was not much given to flights of fancy, he found himself picturing some of the thrilling scenes he had recently read about, after learning that the next locality in which he and jack would play their adventurous part was along the florida gulf coast. then he suddenly found himself listening intently, for above the pounding of the old motor, with an occasional "miss" to break the monotony, he fancied he had caught the signal jack was to give him when the time arrived for making a turn toward the coast. "bully boy, jack!" perk cried out when he found that he had not been deceived. "i'll be right pleased to drop this tiresome job an' think myself some lucky to miss havin' the tub run on a reef, or the bally motor kickin' off an' quittin' cold. yes, an' there's what looks like a bunch o' cabbage palms stickin' their tops against the sky-line. better slow up, perk, old scout, afore you hit some stump or get aground off shore." so he throttled the motor a bit and fairly crept along. he even found himself wishing he had fixed things so that the prisoner might stand by with a sounding pole in the bow of the sloop to sing out the depth and give warning of sudden shallows but it was too late now to attempt such a thing, even if he had dared take the chance of the fellow jumping overboard and either drowning or getting ashore to give warning as to the menace hovering above the operations of the far-flung smuggler combine. but fortune was still kind and presently perk found himself softly gliding past the outermost mangrove islands. here, he remembered, it was his duty to come about and lay to until jack could drop down and taxi over to where the sloop lay so as to consider their further plans in the coming dawn. chapter x tampa bound "congrats, perk," said jack, as soon as he came close enough, "you did the thing up in first-class shape. if all other jobs went back on you i reckon you could get your papers along the engineering line. a bit tired in the bargain i take it, partner?" "lay off on that stuff, matey," replied the other, scornfully, "me, i never get what you'd call tired, but jest the same i'm right glad it's all over an' the rotten crate didn't get sunk out there--hate to lose all this bottled juice we come by in such a queer way. climb aboard, jack, an' let's have a little talk-fest while we rest up." "later on i'd be glad to do that," he was told. "we'd be wise to push further in among these islands before morning comes along if any sponger or fisherman happened to glimpse this pair of odd sea and air craft he'd spread the story far and wide and get us in dutch. i'll fasten a tow line on to the ship here, if you'll toss me a coil and taxi away back where there wouldn't be one chance in a thousand of our being seen." "i get you, buddy," perk hastened to say, as he made ready to toss the bight of stout rope to his waiting chum, "and it's all to the good with me. dandy luck we've been havin' for a fact, on'y hope it keeps on that way to the finish line. here you are, boss!" after jack had made the small hawser fast he started the taxi stunt and presently they were moving past the outlying clumps of mangroves with never a bit of trouble. perk made himself comfortable by throwing his really fatigued form flat on the deck and stretching his muscles to the limit. this continued for some little time until finally jack shut off his power and came alongside, ready to climb aboard the sloop. "we'll tie her up to this nearby clump of mangroves, where you'll notice there's a bunch of tall palmetto trees growing, showing there must be ground, such as few of these islands can boast. i'm picking this place especially because those cabbage palms will keep the mast of the sloop from sticking up and betraying its location to any flyer passing over." "i'd call that a mighty fine idea, partner," declared perk enthusiastically. "never would athought o' anything like that myself--my old bean don't work along them lines i guess. an' when i've done that camouflage act again nobody ain't agoin' to spy out a single thing down this-aways. great work, if i do say it myself, jack old boy." after he had managed to fasten the bow of the sloop to one of the palmetto trees, jack crawled aboard. he must have also felt more or less tired, after being caged in the small confines of the cockpit so long, for he followed perk's example and dropped down on the deck to stretch out while they exchanged opinions. "none too soon for our safety," was the first remark jack made, "see, there in the east the sky has begun to take on a faint rosy tint which means the sun must be making ready to rise." "things are workin' just lovely for us, i'd mention, old hoss," suggested perk, with one of his good-humored chuckles that told how well pleased he must be on account of the many "breaks" that persisted in coming their way. "let the mornin' come along when it pleases, it don't matter a red cent to us back here in this gloomy solitude." they started to exchange opinions concerning the remarkable happenings of the night just passed and in this way many things that had not been very clear to perk were made plain. on his part he was able to offer several suggestions that added to the stock of knowledge jack already possessed so that it was a mutual affair after all. "i rather reckon somebody's going to get a surprise packet when i finish explaining just how this contraband sloop and cargo fell into our hands," jack was saying at one time, apparently vastly amused himself. "fact is, i wouldn't blame the commissioner for believing i was drawing the long bow when he hears about those tear-bombs you tossed out that scattered the crowd like i've heard you tell a shell used to do when it dropped into a dugout over in the argonne." as they lay there taking things easy, the heavens in the east assumed a most wonderful range of various delicate tints that made even perk gasp with admiration. birds started singing, mocking birds and cardinals among others, crows could be heard cawing close by as though there might be a hidden bird roost not far distant. this was corroborated later on when streams of white egrets flew past, scattering to find their morning meal. so, too, circling buzzards could be seen far above as they searched for signs of a feast in the shape of a dead fish cast ashore on some sandbar or mudbank--a heavy plunge not far away told of a monster alligator that had been lying asleep on some log, taking a dive as he noticed the presence of two-legged human enemies whom he had reason to suspect of designs on his life. "how about a little grub for a change, partner?" demanded perk, after they had been talking for quite some time. "i reckon it wouldn't come amiss," admitted jack; "but if you've got any idea of starting a fire and making coffee, better throw that overboard right away, for in the first place you'd find it a hard job to run across any solid ground among all these mangrove islands and then besides it might not be the wisest thing going to send up a column of smoke to attract attention to this quarter. get that do you, perk?" "y--es," admitted the other, with a disconsolate shrug of his shoulders as if he had no liking for the scheme being thus tabooed, "s'pose it's jest like you put it, jack, though i own up i was hopin' we might make a pot o' coffee. just the same we got plenty o' fresh water along, even if it is sorter warm an' coffee'd taste just prime, but i c'n stand anything when necessity drives. so let's get our teeth in some eats without botherin' further, 'cause i'm half starved an' them sandwiches'd go fine." accordingly they started operations, perk clambering aboard the amphibian to fish out the package of "eats", he knowing best where it had been secreted on the previous evening after they had supper near this same spot. as they munched their dry food they continued to talk, finding plenty of subjects bearing on their work that would be the better for further study. "there's only one way we can arrange things so as to keep our clutch on the spoils we've rustled so far and do our duty according to orders." "i kinder guess i c'n smell a rat already, jack," chuckled perk as he wrapped up the remnant of the food supply which he had taken from their main stock--"i'm the goat in the deal--you figger on me stayin' here in this 'gator hole to stand by the ship an' knock the block off'n anybody what tries to get away with our property--how's that for a straight hit square in the bullseye?" "go up head, perkiser--you got the answer first clip, for that's just what has to be put through. i'll start off presently and make a bee line for tampa where they told me our immediate boss, colonel tranter, is stopping with his sick wife. i'll make my report direct to him and take further orders. he'll like enough detail a couple of revenue men on duty along the east coast to come back with me to where you're lying here so they can take the sloop and her wet cargo to tampa to be given over to the proper officers who will see that no clever smuggler has half a chance to run away with her." "i c'n easy enough see how you've thunk ev'ry thing out, an' on'y need a little time to put the scheme through with a rush. tell me, jack, will you be apt to get any further lines on the way things stand down here?--there was some talk, i 'member, about them bein' able to give us a few pointers concernin' them higher-ups the government is so anxious to cage so as to break this whole gang up for keeps." "certainly, i intend to ask about that very thing," came jack's ready reply, "and i'm also in great hopes they'll be able to add some news worth while, that, in conjunction with what we already know, or suspect, will put us sleuth hounds on the hot trail of the big millionaire they feel certain has been the main backing of the whole ugly bunch while keeping in the background himself all the while. they're depending on you and me, perk, to produce the evidence that's going to convict him of conspiracy against the government, which may send him to atlanta for a dozen years or more." "know how long you'll be away, jack?" demanded the other casually as if it was really a matter of but little moment to him what the answer might be, since he could be depended on to hold to their booty with the tenacity of a leech. "that all depends on circumstances--i may be back by noon, and again not till late in the afternoon or evening. i expect to fetch a couple of sandbaggers along who will take over the sloop and stuff that's aboard. having washed our hands clean of those encumbrances we'll be in fit shape to delve deeper into the game and see what we get out of the grab-bag. anyway, don't expect me until you see me heading this way and keep a sharp lookout, for from all accounts this crowd we're up against is said to be a tricky combination, always stepping on their toes and doing big things." "yeah, we've heard lots o' that kind o' stuff but just the same the lads makin' up the crew o' this sloop didn't keep their eyes open, or they'd never been taken unawares by them hijackers. leave it to gabe perkiser to hold fast to what he's got; they'd have to be a regiment, armed with machine-guns, bombs, an' even gas, to knock _me_ off'n my perch an' i don't mean that for boastin' either, jack." later on jack decided it would be just as well for him to jump off and be on his way to tampa. contrary winds or something else might delay his arrival, and an early start was bound to be of much help toward bringing a quick return. he first used the binoculars in order to scan the heavens as well as they could be covered when he was so surrounded by those strange mangrove islands and discovering no sign of any cruising, spying crate, he bade perk goodbye and taxied in the direction of the open gulf, which he knew lay due west. perk answered his signal ere the amphibian turned a bend in the tortuous channel and saw jack vanish from view; nor could he long detect any sound to indicate the presence of an airship since cautious jack had again made use of that wonderful "silencer" which they had found so useful while conducting their search during the preceding night. then the appointed guardian of the captured contraband sloop turned his attention to matters which had to do with his making the tied-up craft as thoroughly invisible from the upper air as he knew how. chapter xi perk holds the fort first of all perk set about getting the one boat that had been left aboard the smuggler sloop into the water as he would need it for conveying his green material with which he intended to cover the exposed deck. there was little trouble about accomplishing that and when he dropped into the rowboat with a pair of excellent oars in his possession, he felt considerably encouraged. so he started to poke around, hoping to run across some island that was more than a mere patch of the omnipresent mangrove tangle. this he succeeded in doing without much loss of time and his pleasure redoubled at finding a mass of dwarf saw palmetto that would yield him a plentiful supply of fronds with their queer serrated edges such as would stab cruelly unless one took care to handle them properly. here, too, were some young palmetto trees with the new leaves within easy reach. working with a vim perk speedily loaded his small boat with green stuff, after which he returned to the sloop and proceeded to scatter his material to the best advantage all over any exposed part of the contraband vessel. it necessitated a second trip before he felt satisfied for whatever his shortcomings might be in other respects, perk always tried to fulfill his whole duty whenever he tackled a job. by the time he had finished he was "reeking wet" as he called it, with "honest-to-goodness sweat," not perspiration, but it was worth all it cost to be able to feel that the sharpest vision on the part of a sky pilot passing over the spot, and even equipped with powerful binoculars, would not be able to detect the presence of the sequestered runaway sloop. "good enough," he told himself, as he lay down to rest a bit and scan the blue heavens so as to learn whether there was any sign of a cloud chaser from horizon to horizon where the clumps of mangroves allowed him a clear vision. several times he gave a little start, and proceeded to strain his eyes so as to make doubly sure, but in every instance the moving dot he had noted far away to the north or nor'east proved to be a circling buzzard, keeping up his eternal weaving to and fro in search of a belated breakfast after his own peculiar kind. so the time passed, and perk even dozed, lying there amidst his "palm sunday greens," as he fancifully called the camouflage stuff, for the climbing sun kept getting warmer, and induced somnolence, especially after such an eventful night as the one he and jack had just passed. later in the morning he sat up, took another cautious look around at the clear sky, and then proceeded to enjoy a good, old-fashioned smoke, for perk was a lover of his under-slung pipe _a la dawes_. noon found him thus, picturing his chum arriving at tampa and interviewing the government official who could give him what assistance he required so as to turn over the captured sloop and the contraband it carried, both above and below decks. at one time perk out of curiosity--as well as a desire to be in a condition to state the amount of spoils he and jack had "corraled" in their swoop upon the fighting smugglers and hijackers--took a pad of paper and a pencil and proceeded to go over the entire vessel, securing a rough invoice of the numerous piled-up cases bearing that foreign, burnt brand. then a temptation gripped him, and, as he took another "eyeful" sweep of the azure arch overhead, to again find the coast clear, he tortured himself with the vision of a pot of boiling coffee to go with his otherwise dry midday snack of lunch. "huh! no use talkin', i jest _can't_ stand it any longer--got to have my coffee if i want to keep happy as a clam at high tide. nothin' to prevent me paddlin' across once more to where i got these here greens. i noticed heaps an' heaps o' dry wood, broken branches, stems o' palmetto leaves an' such dandy trash for a quick fire. might as well tote the machine-gun along, so's to be ready for anything that comes--it could be a frisky twelve-foot 'gator wantin' to climb me or mebbe one o' them sly painters i been told they got down in this queer old country. anyway, here you go, perk, coffee pot an' all." he was soon busily engaged in building his little fire, hoping no hostile eyes might detect the trailing smoke ascending above the tops of that palmetto clump. then came the pleasing task of watching his coffee pot as it stood on the tilting firewood, a job that required constant vigilance if he hoped to save its precious contents from spilling. presently the odor began to fill him with delight and later on he found himself sitting cross-legged, like a turk, and swallowing gulp after gulp of the amber fluid he loved so well. taken altogether it proved to be as satisfactory a little lunch as perk had partaken of in some time. after finishing the entire contents of his coffee pot, he concluded it would be just as well for him to clean up, destroying all signs of the fire, and return to the sloop. he had good reason to shake hands with himself because of this exhibition of caution, for later on, as the afternoon began to lengthen, with the sun starting down toward the western horizon, he suddenly began to catch faint sounds such as sent a sudden thrill through his whole nervous system. "dang it if i ain't hearin' somethin' right like human voices," he told himself, cocking up his head the better to listen, and applying a cupped hand to his right ear. "yep, that's a fact, an' over in that quarter to boot," nodding toward the northeast where his instinct told him the mainland must lie, even if some miles distant. so, too, he decided later that the suspicious sounds kept growing louder, from which fact he judged the speakers were slowly but surely approaching his hiding place. "all right, let 'em come along," perk muttered grimly as he clutched that deadly little hand machine-gun with which he could pour a rain of missiles in a comparatively speedy passage of time. "they can't ditch me, i kinder guess, an' nobody ain't agoin' to grab this crate if i have to shoot up the hull mob o' galoots." nevertheless, since there was always a fair chance that the secreted sloop might escape discovery, perk finally concluded to dispose of his own person, at the same time meaning to keep in readiness to give the intruders a hot reception, did the occasion warrant such a course. then he could hear what he knew to be the splash of oars, and squeaking sounds of the row-locks. but he had already discounted this fact, knowing as he did the impossibility of anyone ever reaching the fringe of that vast wilderness of mangrove islands in which many a fisherman had been lost, never to find his way out of the myriad of zigzag channels without the possession of some manner of boat. on they came until finally perk realized they were just around the corner, for he could pick up every word that was uttered as well as see specks of foam from the working oars as it carried past, the tide being on the ebb just then. "told yuh it was a steamer runnin' past thet sent up yer smoke trail, zeb," a harsh jeering voice was saying, accompanying the words with a string of oaths as though he felt more or less "mad" because of the exertion necessitated in working at the oars so long and on a bootless errand at that. "wall," came another drawling voice in which keen disappointment could be detected. "i judged it shore lay in this direction, but like yuh says, it must'a ben a steamer out yonder on the gulf--mebbe thet rev'nue boat they done tole us to watch out fur er else some o' them spongers frum up tarpon springs way. anyhow, i got all i wants o' exercise so i move weuns call hit a day an' get back to the shanty." "yas, thet's the best thing we kin do," agreed the other, with a snarl in his heavy voice, "we got heaps o' work ahead tonight, if so be thet fritz airpilot does drop over with his batch o' yeller boys like weuns been told he'd do. i'd like tuh see the whole caboodle o' chinks dropped inter the middle o' the gulf, i hate 'em so, but thar's good money in the game, we happens tuh know, zeb, which i jest caint hold back on nowhow. les go!" greatly to the relief of the listening perk he heard the sound of splashing gradually recede until finally it died away completely. this gave him a feeling bordering on relief, for while perk was an old hand at the fighting game and stood ready to give a good account of his ability to defend their prize; at the same time he had no violent desire to open up on the two occupants of the unseen rowboat nor yet was the idea of the sloop being discovered at all to his taste. "lucky lads you might count yourselves if on'y you knew how i was layin' right here in ambush, ready to sink that boat an' make the biggest sort o' a splash. an' i'm guessin' i got off right smart 'bout that cookin' fire racket, come to think of it--might a'spilled the beans all right, and made all sort o' trouble for our crowd." talking in this fashion to himself, perk again set about taking things comfortably nor did he ever hear of that pair again. still, he treasured up in his mind what he had heard the man with the harsh voice say in connection with the smuggling of unwelcome chinese immigrants who were ready to pay so well for an opportunity to beat the government regulations in their eagerness to join the foreign colony in mott street, new york city, where the vast majority of them were bound. it would naturally interest jack when he heard the news, although it could hardly be considered startling, since they already knew full well this sort of thing was being carried on by daring airplane pilots in the service of the far-flung smuggling combine. by now it was well past the middle of the afternoon. light fleecy, white clouds had been drifting up from the direction of the dry tortugas and key west but this far they did not look at all portentous, as though any kind of a storm might be brewing. perk hoped that would not turn out to be the case since they had work planned for a part of the coming night, which would be greatly hampered by unsettled weather. then, on making one of his habitual observations of the upper air, he discovered a moving speck that he soon decided must be a plane heading in his direction. at first perk fancied it must be jack on his way back, but later on he realized the air craft bore a great resemblance to the curtiss-robin boat which they had figured belonged to the hun pilot, oscar gleeb. chapter xii oddenemies face to face "je-ru-salem crickets!" perk told himself as he stared, "i do b'lieve that's the same curtiss-robin crate we saw before, an' making direct for this here section o' the map in the bargain! now i wonder what he wants to barge in for when things seem to be doin' their prettiest for us fellers? guess i'd better get ready for boarders. if that smart guy took a notion to swoop down for a close-up o' these mangrove islands, he'd be apt to pick me up, 'specially if he happens to own a pair o' glasses, which stands to reason he sure does. huh! what a bother. better be slow 'bout foolin' with a buzz-saw, that's all i c'n say to him." no sooner said than done, which was perk's usual way of playing the game. he changed his position for one that offered less chance for discovery and while about it perk started to build up something in the shape of a formidable fortification. "what luck to have all these logs lyin' around when i need them," he went on to tell himself with many a dry chuckle. "guess now they had 'em aboard to pull the wool over the eyes o' any customs men that happened to board the sloop lookin' for contraband stuff--meant to claim they was fetchin' mahogany logs to a states market. gee whiz! they sure are a tough proposition to move around but here's the cutest little fort any playboy could wish for. let him come along--who cares a red cent what he does, so long's i got this here machine-gun with plenty o' cartridges in the belts to riddle things with. ring up the curtain, an' let the play start. makes me think i'm back in the old line again along the argonne, an' say, jest 'magine how it all works out with one o' them same hun pilots swooping down on me! it sure is to laugh, boys." by this time the oncoming plane was drawing perilously near and perk wisely settled himself so that he could see all that occurred. he possessed a pair of marvelously keen eyes and while it would have simplified matters considerably had he been handling those wonderful binoculars, just the same he could get on without them. by close application he was able to see a figure bending over the ledge of the cabin window, apparently scrutinizing the queer combination of mangrove patches and crooked water passages between. the plane was rushing down a steep slant in a clever dive, or glide, so that with the passage of each second the chances for the pilot to make a discovery increased. "gosh! but ain't this the life, though?" muttered the watcher, thrilled to the core with what was hovering over his head yet not so much as making the slightest movement that would attract attention. if discovery must come, perk was determined that no act of his would hasten it along and no responsibility for the tragedy--if such there followed--could be laid at his door. he had discovered some time back that the rival crate resembled their own, in that it was in the amphibian class--could hop-off either from the land or when on the water. really he had taken it for granted that such would turn out to be the case, since occasions without number must arise when, for instance, the smugglers wished to take alien chinamen from some schooner or speedboat by means of which the first part of their journey to the promised land had been carried through, when it would be necessary for the plane to drop alongside the boat from cuba or other foreign ports and make the transfer. the prospect was far from displeasing to perk--he felt positive that it would be the first time on record when one of uncle sam's secret service men fought it out with a taxiing seaplane on the subtropical waters of the great gulf. the outcome of course was hidden behind a haze of mystery--one, or both of those engaged might never live to tell the story but then that sort of uncertainty had been his daily portion during his thrilling service on the french front and its coming to the surface again after all these years of less arduous labor only made perk hug himself, theoretically speaking. now the flying ship was passing directly over his place of concealment, although at rather a high ceiling. would the argus-eyed pilot make any suspicious discovery, or, failing to do so, continue his scrutiny along the many leagues of similar mangrove islands stretching far into the south? perk saw him pass the spot, which caused him to imagine the game was all off, and he would have nothing but his trouble for his pains. indeed a sense of heavy disappointment had even begun to grip his heart when he saw the other suddenly bank and swing as though meaning to come back again. "zowie! kinder looks like he _did_ glimpse somethin' that struck him as wuth a second scrutiny," chuckled the anxious watcher, that delicious thrill once more sweeping over his whole frame. indeed, it was a moment of more or less suspense, although perk was telling himself he did not care a particle whether the smuggler pilot discovered the mast of the sloop, with its camouflaged deck below or not. he was only hoping that the other might not take a notion to fly overhead and try to drop some sort of a miserable bomb down upon the spot where things looked a bit suspicious to him. possibly perk still seemed to get a faint whiff of the tear-gas that had drenched the smugglers' boat at the time he himself hurled those two bombs with such deadly accuracy and the possibility of being himself made the target of a similar attack was anything but pleasing for him to contemplate. this time the curtiss-robin sped past not much more than three hundred feet above, so that he could plainly make out a head, with its protecting helmet, earflaps, and goggles, that was projected from the cabin. "darn his nerve, if he ain't wavin' his hand to me to say, 'i see you little boy, you're it!' spotted me, danged if he didn't, by ginger! an' now the fun's a'goin' to start right along. wow! this is what i like, an' pays up for a wheen o' lazy days. how the blood does leap through a feller's veins when he feels he's in action again. oscar, old boy, here's wishin' you all the compliments o' the season an' i hereby promise to send back whatever you throw me. go on and do your stuff, old hoss--i'm on to your game okay!" he found further cause for congratulation when he made certain that the plane was now headed for the smiling surface of the little bay close by, showing that the pilot intended to make his little splash, and take a look at the hidden sloop with its illicit cargo of many cases that had been so mysteriously snatched from the hands of those with whom he was in close association. this was as perk would have it if given any decision in the matter. once the amphibian started to taxi toward him and they would be placed on the same footing, each with a machine-gun to back him up and former experience in handling such a weapon equally balanced. could anything be fairer than that, perk asked himself, preparing for business at the drop of the hat? the plane had made contact with the water and was floating there like an enormous aquatic fowl of some unknown species. now the pilot was making a right turn as though meaning to come down on perk with the western breeze--his motor was keeping up more or less of a furore, which told perk that shrewd though these up-to-date contraband runners might be, at least they had slipped a cog by failing to keep up with the inventions of the times, for undoubtedly this pilot had no silencer aboard his craft to effectually muffle the exhaust of his engine. however, this was no time to bother about such minor things when the main issue was whether he was destined to "get" the ex-war ace, or the other put him out of action when the battle was on. perk shifted his gun so that its muzzle kept following the moving seaplane in its advance. let oscar but make a start in his projected bombardment, and perk stood ready to answer with a similar fusilade that must rather astonish the other, for as yet he could have no assurance that the concealed sloop was manned--doubtless he would figure the seized craft had been hidden here and temporarily abandoned until such convenient time as the captors could return with recruits and run it to some port where the confiscated shipment might be turned over to the proper authorities. just the same oscar gleeb might think it good policy to make sure of his ground by spraying the boat's deck with a round or two of searching missiles before attempting to board it. whatever way the cat was going to jump, perk knew the issue was bound to be joined before many more seconds slipped past, and he held himself ready. chapter xiii when greek met greek the seaplane had stopped short, although its engine still rattled away as vehemently as ever. perk understood the reason for this--oscar may have been a hot-headed youngster away back when the great war was on, but apparently his later experiences had cooled his blood to some extent and he did not mean to be too rash. doubtless he could by this time plainly make out the sloop which was so skillfully concealed, especially from the air above, and there may have been a sufficiently menacing air about it that called for caution. he was not such a fool as to blindly walk into what might prove to be a clever trap, set by a bunch of those despised government workers to catch him napping. accordingly he considered it good policy to hold off and pepper the sloop from stem to stern before taking any further steps at doing any boarding and seizing it for its rightful owners. then again, in order to get the best work from his firearms and have his hands free, he knew he should fix matters so he could drop the controls and pay strict attention to his other job. perk was lying low, holding himself in readiness for action. he believed he would be amply protected by the logs he had piled up, but just the same he did duck his head involuntarily at the first crack of the machine-gun the pilot of the curtiss boat was handling so lovingly, as though it might be an old and valued "baby" in his estimation. but just the same perk could not allow any misunderstanding to keep the other in ignorance of how matters stood--he had sent out his impudent challenge, and perk was quick to accept it. so the din was further increased by a second barrage, chiming in with perhaps its notes ranged along a little higher key, but on the whole playing skillfully and merrily its own part in the mad chorus that reigned. how the chatter of those two rapid-fire guns did carry on, with the splinters flying every-which way as the missiles tore them loose from the logs and the coaming of the sloop's deck. perk was compelled to do most of his work while keeping his head down, lest he be potted in that rain of bullets the other fighter was pouring in on him. consequently he could hardly be expected to do himself full justice. perhaps oscar on his part was working under a similar disadvantage, for he really had little in the way of a barricade to intercept the shower to which he was being subjected. lucky for him he had shown the good sense to stop his advance with considerable distance separating him from the hidden sloop--had they been closer there was not one chance in ten that some damage would not have placed his seaplane out of commission, even though the pilot himself escaped death. then suddenly a white flag shot up from the sloop's breastworks. oscar, with the gallantry such as had ever distinguished the air fighters on both sides in those days that tried men's souls, ceased firing. "give up?" he was bawling, as the rapid-fire guns both became silent, while their hot barrels cooled off a bit. "not so you could notice it," perk shouted. "jest wanted to exchange a few words with you, if you're oscar gleeb, an' it's true that you was a live-wire over there in france an' the argonne--say, is that all to the good, mister pilot?" the other did not answer immediately. plainly he must have been considerably astonished at the queer turn the engagement had taken; and then again possibly he did not exactly like the idea of being compelled to acknowledge his identity, fearing it might be only a trap to ensnare him in the meshes of the law he had been defying so flagrantly. "what's that matter to you?" he finally yelled testily, so that perk began to suspect he must have touched up the other with one of the bullets that struck the seaplane. "oh! nothin' much," sang out the complaisant perk, cheerfully, "on'y i wanted to let you know i was over there in the same line and had the good luck to send down a few o' you hun pilots in a blazin' coffin. wondered now if me'n an' you mightn't a had a private scrap o' our own in them bully times. allers did hanker to have a talk-fest with you, sense i heard 'bout you bein' one o' them bloomin' hot junker pilots." a hoarse laugh greeted this amazing sally of perk's. "say, what sort of a crazy gyp are you to want to talk things over while we got this scrap on?" bellowed the helmeted man in the shot torn cabin of the amphibian. "that's our boat you're standin' on, and we need it in our business, see? give you three minutes to clear out, for i'm comin' aboard. get that, kamarad?" "sure thing, oscar old hoss, but when you do it'll be feet first, for i'm fixed to fill your carcass so full o' lead it wouldn't need any cannon ball to sink you if you died at sea. so mind your step, mister pilot--jest been gettin' my hand in so far, but what's comin' next'll be a whole lot different, bet your boots!" the other did not show the white feather but immediately set to work once more with his weapon. no sooner was its chatter "on the air" than perk started giving his own gun a chance to show its worth. this made it lively again and once more those aggravating splinters began to scatter, worrying perk not a little, for strange to say he dreaded lest one of them find lodgment in his anatomy and this troubled him much more than the possibility of being struck by a speeding bullet. it was quite warm while it lasted, but presently perk realized that the opposition had suddenly ceased. being a polite man and always pleased to meet his antagonist on even terms, perk also stopped firing. if oscar had decided to advance once more and try conclusions at close quarters where it would be give and take, he, perk, could prove himself a most accommodating chap. sure enough the engine of the amphibian had started up with increased vigor and perk, cautiously lifting his head, saw that the plane was really in motion. but it was also veering to one side, which action might mean either one of two things--that the other had had quite enough of this exchange of hot fire and was pulling out, or else that in his crafty german way he was meaning some sort of flank attack in hopes of carrying the fort. faster and faster was the taxiing airship rushing through the water and perk continued to hold his fire, realizing that the fight was over. "go to it, oscar old hoss!" he burst out, as he grasped this clinching finish of the strange engagement with the rival gunmen separating after a hot exchange of compliments, each apparently able to move off under his own steam, "beat it for all you're worth while the goin' is good. there, he's lifted his crate in one big pull an' i kinder guess he ain't hurt much either, else he couldn't show so much steam. wall, here perk's been left in possession, after all that bluff he put up. but it sure was a dandy jig while it lasted." at that perk began to laugh as though the true perspective had flashed before his eyes for then, and later on, too, he was ready to declare that a more ridiculous as well as unprofitable battle had never been waged between two rival pilots of the upper air lanes. now the fleeing ship had mounted to a fair ceiling and was rushing off in a roaring zoom but perk noticed his late foe was heading due east as though bent on picking out an entirely different direction from the one he had used when coming with an impetuous rush to investigate the mysteries of the mangrove islands. "huh! that strikes me as a bit queer," perk was telling himself as he gazed after the ship, now growing smaller and smaller as it placed miles between them. "looks like oscar might a remembered a mighty important engagement he ought to keep. oh well, i've had my little shindig, and it's just as well we both came through okay--them as 'fights an' runs away, may live to fight another day,' that old sayin' has it which is sure a true thing. hey! what's this mean--seems like i didn't come through as soft-like as i figgered i had--blood on my hand, yep, an' on my face ditto. guess one o' them nasty zippin' bullets must a creased my ear, and fetched the juice a little. shucks! nothin' to bother about i'd say." he took his old red bandanna and dabbed at his right ear with many a grunt as well as chuckle. "seems like it's the only time i've weltered in my own gore for a coon's age," perk was saying as he looked at the stains on his faithful if faded rag that had been his close companion on many a long flight through fog and storm, wintry cold and summer heat. "but then i got a notion oscar must a'been nipped, too, mebbe a whole lot worse'n me. honors are 'bout even, i guess, and if ever i do run across that lad again i'm meanin' to shake hands with him, jest out o' consideration for the fox an' geese game us air pilots used to play in the big ruction over there." by chance perk turned his gaze in another direction for he no longer found any interest in keeping tabs on his late antagonist whose ship was now growing dim in the distance, having entered among a bunch of fleecy clouds. hardly had perk turned his head than he gave utterance to a low cry. "what do i see but another crate humping along this way, an' outen the no'th in the bargain?" he observed, with ill concealed eagerness in his tones. "could it be oscar, an' the other skunks got 'em a hull fleet o' airships to carry on their trade o' smugglin' in licker, diamonds an' chinks that want to get in this country more'n they do the yeller man's paradise? oh! rats, what'm i thinkin' about--wake up, gabe perkiser, an' use your noodle like it was given to you to handle. to be sure that second plane is our own bus, with my pal handlin' the stick. an' i guess oscar must a glimpsed him headin' this way, which made him reckon this wasn't the healthiest place in the country for a feller o' his size, so he skipped out _pronto_. yep, that's my pal for a cookey, i'd know his way o' handlin' a ship in a dozen an' as far as i could lamp the boat." on the whole he was extremely glad to see jack returning, although also pleased to know he had had his little frolic in a miniature battle that for the brief period of its life had been able to give him a most delicious thrill. he watched the oncoming ship grow in size and noted the significant fact that its approach was so lacking in all the customary racket that deafens the human ear. then presently a hand waved to him, jack swung around and dropped with a little splash upon the water--just where oscar had so recently left it--to taxi along and pull up close to the camouflaged sloop. chapter xiv the coast guard men perk made a discovery just then that afforded him more or less satisfaction. this was the fact that apparently jack's mission to tampa had not been in vain for he could see several heads in the cabin of the amphibian beside that of his best chum. "huh! 'pears like jack fetched through okay, an' has ferried some guys back with him to take this stuff off'n our hands," perk was muttering, even as jack started to clamber aboard the sloop, being closely followed by a couple of determined looking young men. "back again, brother," jack observed, as he clasped the extended hand of his partner, then, gave a queer grimace upon taking note of the splintered coaming of the sloop as well as the badly pockmarked barricade of mahogany logs. "say, what's all this mean, i want to know--looks like you might have been mixed up in some sort of rumpus while i was away!" perk grinned and nodded his head cheerfully. "had a heap o' fun, old boss, an' got loads o' thrills out o' it. mebbe now you noticed some sort o' crate just vanishing among them clouds off toward the east as you breezed along?" "thought i did," came the immediate reply, "but the visibility was getting poor, and i couldn't be sure it wasn't a buzzard, or even an eagle ducking in and out. what's it mean, perk--was he kicking up a mess around here?" "you said it, partner, an' his name was sure oscar--oscar gleeb, 'cause he got mad as hops when i asked him, an' told me that wasn't any o' my business. but we sure did have a nice hot spell, oscar'n me." "yes, and i reckon now you got your old right ear touched up again, perk, for i can see streaks of half-dried blood running down your cheek." "yeah, he nicked me okay, an' if this keeps on much further i'll soon be taken for the manassa mauler, 'cause it'll gimme a cauliflower ear. who are these two lads, jack--look like they might belong to the coast guard." "just what they are--meet tom cairns and red mcgrath, who have been sent along with me to take charge of this contraband and hand it over to mr. philip ridgeway, temporarily in charge of the treasury department interests along the west coast here, with headquarters in tampa--this is the fine pal you heard me speaking about a few times, boys--gabe perkiser, commonly known simply as perk, a veteran of the big scrap over in france where he flew one of those sausage observation blimps, and was later on considered something of an ace in our flying corps." so perk gladly shook the hands extended to him, grinned in his genial fashion, and from that moment on they were as brothers all. "while we're stretching our legs, after being cooped up in that cramped cabin for some hours," suggested jack, whose curiosity had naturally been aroused by the multitude of signs all around indicative of a warm session, "suppose you sketch your little adventure for us, perk. and i want to say that oscar was pretty much of a fool if he reckoned on snatching this boat away from an old fighter like _you_, when you had a nice new machine-gun to back up your claims." "shucks! he showed the right stuff for a scrapper," expostulated the honest perk, anxious to give credit where credit was due. "we stopped the barrage at one point to have a little chin, but unable to agree, we jest started all over again. an' i kinder guess i must've notched the critter some, for he hauled off an' skinned the cat by kickin' out. i was jest tellin' myself it sure turned out to be a good thing he didn't have any chinks aboard at the time, 'cause they might've lost the number o' their mess in the racket--i'm willin' to stop the yeller boys from crashin' unc' sam's gates, but i don't crave the job o' sendin' the poor dicks along to their worshipped ancestors, not me." "well, get a move on you, perk, and let's have the story of your fight--did he drop down, and have it out with you on the water; or was he circling above your head all the while?" "if you'll take another squint at these bullet marks, old hoss," said perk, reproachfully, "you'll see they passed along on the level. yeah, he was a square shooter i want to say and some day i'm hopin' me'n oscar c'n shake hands, since the war's long past an' german is being taught again in our public schools." then he launched forth in a graphic, if terse, description of the remarkable battle that had so recently taken place. the others listened with intense interest, for if perk did have a way of cutting his sentences short and never going into lengthy descriptions, nevertheless he made his points tell, and kept his audience of three breathing fast with the thrill they received. "now let's get a move on," jack was saying after perk had finished the exciting description of his adventure, "and go over all this mess of cases, so these boys can give us a little document to say how we turned over that number of boxes to their charge, together with the sloop. mcgrath here used to run the engine of a tug in new york harbor and is well able to manage this rusty cub here--we found it capable of doing a day's work, you know perk, on the way here." jack's word was law, since he was in command. accordingly they started a systematic check of every case of bottled goods to be found aboard the confiscated vessel, above and below decks. "just an even two hundred and twenty-six," announced jack, after they had gone over the entire lot twice with the same result. "i reckon a few got away aboard that speedboat but they didn't have much time to work the racket before the hijacker mob swarmed aboard and kicked up that riot--then along came perk, with his armful of tear-bombs and broke up the boston tea party in great shape. i'll make out a paper for both of you to sign, after which you can kick-off when you please." all this was satisfactory to mcgrath and his comrade and the paper having been duly signed, they set about examining the engine so as to learn whether it could have been injured in any way from the storm of missiles that came aboard during the hostilities so lately ended. "the bally old thing seems to be in fairly decent shape for running," was mcgrath's verdict after the checking had been completed, "and since we've got some distance to cover before we make tampa bay, p'raps we'd better be shoving off." "no such big hurry as that, boys," observed jack. "i'm a bit hungry myself and reckon you both must be in the same boat. we've got plenty of grub, and to spare, also perk here knows a few wrinkles along the cooking line. suppose we have some sort of spread to celebrate perk's victory." "huh! pleases me okay, brother," announced the expectant _chef_. "i've run across a little rusty kerosene burnin' stove here in what i'd call the cook's galley, an' we might as well have some hot coffee with the eats." as there were no dissenting votes the motion was carried unanimously; whereupon perk bustled around and soon had his coffee pot over an apology for a flame which would, however, answer their purpose. it was only a simple supper, but with good appetites to back them, every one of the quartette declared it was great and would long be remembered. then the mess of saw palmetto leaves and other stuff utilized for camouflage purposes was cast overboard after which mcgrath "fiddled" with the engine and soon had it running, limp and all, for its misses were plentiful, although the engineer allowed there did not seem to be anything fundamentally wrong. "if we have fair luck," he announced, confidently, "we ought to fetch our tampa dock, where all prizes are tied-up, before morning comes along. on the other hand, if we break down we'll either hang on to the sloop, or if luck runs against us, sink her, after smashing every bottle aboard." "good enough, red," jack told him as they shook hands for the last time. "i hope we run across you boys again some day, and please keep your lip buttoned about our being down here with an amphibian to knock some of these smugglers of chinks and rum galley-west." "you can depend on us to keep mum, jack," the red-headed ex-harbor tug engineer assured him. so the last line was cast off, jack and perk retired to their own ship, and with many a wheeze and complaint the sloop started to pass out to the open gulf, and commence the night journey to tampa bay. chapter xv with the coming of the moon "wall," perk was remarking as the sloop passed beyond range of their vision amidst the gathering shades of night, already drawing her sable curtains close, "i hopes they get through without runnin' smack against a bunch o' the racketeers." "with fair luck they ought to manage to slip along," jack went on to observe, confidently. "you heard me warn them to keep a watchful eye out for smugglers and hijackers by land and sea and air? anyway we've finished our part of the job and this paper proves that our find was all i cracked it up to be when i talked with mr. ridgeway." "course, you knocked up against the gent then, eh jack?" "sure, or i shouldn't have been able to fetch those lads back with me to take over the sloop and contraband cargo," the other told him. "but i was in a tail spin at first when i learned that mr. ridgeway had gone down to st. pete to interview some people who had reasons for not wanting to be seen going into his government offices in tampa. but i got his address and jumped my boat, slipped down tampa bay, and pulled in at the long municipal pier at st. petersburg." "i first hired a dependable man to keep watch over my ship while i was off hunting my superior officer but i found him after a bit and he was sure glad to see me, shook hands like a good sport, and asked me a bunch of questions before starting to tell me what important fresh news he had picked up through his agents working the spy game for all it was worth." "was he tickled to learn how we managed to run off with that slick little sloop that carried so neat a pack o' cases marked with foreign stamps?" "seemed to be," came the ready answer. "he isn't a man of many words, you know, perk, but what he says he means. he told me they were banking on the pair of us to bring the high-hat chaps at the head of this smuggler league to the bar, with plenty of evidence that would convict them, no matter how many big lawyers they employed to beat the case." "that sounds all to the good with me, old hoss," snapped the pleased perk. "'taint often we get half the praise that's comin' to us--not that i care a whiff 'bout that, though--satisfied to do my duty by unc' sam, an' let them high-ups have the main credit. but i guess we'll get some kick out o' the game just the same an' that's worth all it costs us. tell me, did this mr. ridgeway fork over any news worth knowin'?" "he did," the other assured him. "i showed him those papers i found hidden in the cabin of the sloop, with a fine list of names, such as would cover customers who'd ordered the stuff they had aboard and he reckoned that several of them might point to the heads of the combine swinging the big smuggling deal." "that would be a clue worth while, i'd say," perk asserted warmly, his eyes flashing with renewed zeal as though he might be telling himself they must be getting on a pretty warm scent which would soon lead them to the party they sought above every one else--the capitalist whose word was _law_, and whose money purchased all the supplies, from liquor and vessels to aircraft and everything else needful for carrying on their business of swindling the government through the treasury department. just as he always did in forestalling any likely move when an important case was placed in the hands of himself and jack, perk was already engaged in mentally spreading the net destined to gather in the chief culprits--the outlook promised a multitude of warm episodes calculated to stir the blood to fever heat and afford him the wild excitement without which life lost much of its charm--in his eyes at least. the pulsating throb of the old engine aboard the sloop had long since ceased to make itself heard, so that they could with reason believe mcgrath and his pal well on the way to their distant goal, with no sign of stormy weather to be seen in the southwestern heavens. "how 'bout spendin' the night here, partner?" perk queried, as he sat contentedly smoking his favorite pipe after the manner of a man who had good reason to congratulate himself on the close of a perfect day. "i was just thinking that over, perk. we might be in a worse situation than this, if locality was all that mattered. i don't believe the 'gators would keep us awake with their splashing and roaring along towards early morning, but then i'm a bit bothered thinking of the man who skipped out after having his little machine-gun duel with you." "you're jest crampin' my style when you say that, partner," complained perk. "that oscar happens to be a german, we both know, an' from what i learned about the breed when over there, they're some obstinate, once they get workin' in a game--hate to give it up wuss'n pizen." "i see you're of the same opinion as myself, buddy," jack remarked, nodding his head. "you reckon there might be some chance for him to pick up a bunch of his mates and swing back here to do a little bombing on his own account. well, we're not hankering to try our own medicine, not if we know it, and on that account i think we'd be wise to pull out of this and find a new refuge--perhaps on some lake back from the coast where we might pick up something interesting in our line." "je-ru-salem crickets! i kinder guess now you've got somethin' danglin' back o' them words old hoss," broke out the newly interested perk, showing considerable animation. he was used to most of jack's habits and could in many instances tell that something lay hidden back of his word--something of a character to promise great happenings when followed to a finish. that seemingly casual mention of a freshwater lake was not made without some deep meaning--jack must have been told something very important by the government official with whom he had gone into conference at tampa and this was his sly way of starting perk's wits to working overtime in the endeavor to figure things out. "wait and see what's in the wind, perk," said the head pilot, with a chuckle. "i promise to let you into all i know or suspect before a great while passes. just now i'll own up this scheme of slipping over to a certain sheet of fresh water for a change of base has a meaning that connects with our big game of blind man's buff." this seemed to square things with perk, for he beamed as though pleased. whatever jack decided was always all right in his eyes because he felt certain that the bright mind of his comrade just could not make a blunder. "when do we hop-off, then?" he said. "oh, when the moon shows up will be plenty of time," came the ready answer. "our objective isn't so very far distant and you know we can make a hundred miles an hour if necessary. i'd like to pick up a bit of my lost sleep while we wait, unless you object to standing sentry." "not me, matey, i managed to snooze some during the time you were away. lucky i had everything fixed for company and wasn't caught nappin' when our friend oscar tipped his hat an' made his bow. now i was wonderin' if he had that ole quick-firin' gun away back when he was riddlin' things along in the argonne--wouldn't it be a queer thing if true? he knew how to rattle that cantankerous bus to beat the band an' he did nick me in that silly o' ear o' mine that keeps on gettin' in the way every time i have a little spat with a sassy guy." perk insisted on his chum making himself as comfortable as possible, considering the cramped quarters they occupied in the cluttered cabin of their ship, which continued to keep up a soothing movement with the successive waves that worked in from the open gulf inclining a sleepy person to slumber. "i'll jest sit here an' ruminate while i consume my tobacco," announced the accommodating perk, making light of his job. "once in so often i'll take a look skyward with the glasses, so's to know if there's any chance o' oscar comin' back here to try it all over again. when the moon peeps up in the east yonder i'll put a hand on your arm, so's to let you know it's near time. go to it, partner--do your stuff." jack was feeling pretty tired, since he had enjoyed mighty little decent sleep from one cause or another during the last few nights. it was not at all surprising, therefore, that he should be in slumberland before five minutes passed after he and perk had exchanged the last word. the self-posted sentinel did just as he had promised, every little while he would quietly stand up and with the glasses take a keen observation, covering the blue vault above from one horizon to another, then, finding all serene, he would silently resume his seat, with only a sigh to indicate how he felt. once more he filled his everlasting pipe, began to puff delightedly, and finally lay back in a half reclining position to smoke it out. he was a great hand at ruminating, as he called it--allowing his thoughts to travel back to events that may have occurred months, and even years before, but which had been of such a nature as to fix themselves in his memory most tenaciously. this afforded him solid enjoyment, together with the charm of his adored pipe and he asked for nothing better. thus an hour, two of them, and more passed, with nothing out-of-the-way taking place to attract his attention. he figured that if the pilot of the curtiss-robin crate intended to come back that night, he was subject to some sort of delay. there was frequent splashing in the lagoon near by--at times perk could tell it must be caused by jumping mullet, but on other occasions the sound being many times exaggerated, he reckoned it had been made by an alligator plunging off a log into the water, either alarmed by some sound further off, or else possessed of a desire to enter a secret underwater den he laid claim to. this would probably have a second entrance, or exit, up on some hummock that perk had failed to discover when poking around on the preceding day hunting green stuff with which to conceal the deck of the sloop. suddenly perk noticed a slim streak of pale light fall athwart the propeller blade just before him and looking hastily up discovered the smiling face of the moon--a bit battered it is true, for the silvery queen of night was just then on the wane. it was high time they were moving and making for the goal jack had mentioned as an inland lake, though at no time did he give the name by which it was known to the settlers and tourists who flocked to florida during the late fall and early winter. so he touched jack on the shoulder, just he he had promised he would do, nor did he have to give the slightest shake for the other stirred and raised his head, showing he was wide awake. chapter xvi the lockheed-vega flying ship "moon coming up, partner!" was all perk said. "then it's time we were moving," jack told him as he started to stretch his cramped arms and yawn. "feel a heap better now after that little nap and ready for what's coming." they did not have much to do, since everything was in perfect condition for hopping-off--trust jack for that, with his slogan of "be prepared." "all set, perk?" asked the pilot, presently. "shoot!" was the terse answer. the bright moon would have to take the place of the customary equipment of a landing field in the way of guidelights, markers, and search-lights, but there was no necessity for so much light with the channel before him along which he could taxi unerringly, until, arriving at the point where the great gulf stretched out toward the western horizon, the speed must be advanced for the take-off. now they were free from the mangroves and jack accelerated the pace of his ship accordingly--two twin foam-crested waves rolled out from the pontoons as they sped along until, testing things, jack found that his charge was impatient to leave the water and leap upward into space. perk looked backward toward the scene of his amazing afternoon battle--how many times in the future would the picture rise in his memory to haunt him and bring that quizzical grin to his face. with the newly risen moon gilding the small waves of the gulf below them, the picture looked most peaceful. perk, although not much inclined to romance, could not but admire the spectacle after his own rude fashion while jack fairly drank it in as he continued to pay attention to his manifold duties. their course was almost due north, jack keeping out a score or more of miles from the coast, having reasons of his own for so doing--perhaps he found the wind more favorable out there and this is always an important factor in the calculations of a pilot of experience. just as in the earlier days of ocean steamers when they were also equipped with masts and sails, the latter were always hoisted when the wind favored, since this helped them make progress and saved coal at the same time. they had been booming along for something like half an hour when watchful perk, the observer, made a discovery worth while he believed. he communicated with his companion, the useful earphones chancing to be in place--trust perk for that. "somethin' doin' out there to the west, partner--look up to a higher ceilin' an' you'll see it. headin' to cross over our trail in the bargain, i guess." "a crate, all right," commented jack, whose quick eyesight had immediately picked up the moving object. "looks like it might a come all the way across the gulf--d'ye think from some mexican port, jack?" "like as not," assented the other. "these crooks make a start from any one of a score of jumping-off places, but always with a specified landing field ahead." "then you figger," continued perk, "he might be one o' the gang, fetchin' chinks across or mebbe precious stones, bought in paris, and shipped to mexico on the way to new york, eh, partner?" "chances are three to one that's what it means," jack told him. perk continued to wield his important binoculars and presently, when the lofty plane was passing over, he stated his opinion. "'taint _him_, anyway, that's dead sure, jack, i guess i ought to know a lockheed-vega crate, no matter how far away, or by what tricky moonlight either, 'cause you see i used to run one o' that breed for nearly a year when i took a whirl at the air-mail business up north out o' chicago till i had a bad crash an' quit cold." "that settles it then, partner," said the pilot, still observing the speck swinging past out of the tail of his eye. "i hadn't any idea it could be the same chap you had your little picnic with some hours back, for you told me he'd blown off toward the east." "jest what he did," replied the observer. "ginger pop! but what wouldn't i give right now to know jest whar that galoot was meanin' to drop down, once he gets over the land. how 'bout that, old hoss?" "it might help out considerable," admitted jack although not as much interested as perk considered he might be. "we'll sift things out in good time, and for all we know, run across a few surprises in the bargain." perk studied that last part for a minute, feeling almost certain jack had some deep meaning back of his words, but it proved too much for his capacity in the line of figuring out mysteries, and so he dropped it "like a hot potato," as he told himself. the mysterious air voyager had by now disappeared entirely, although they might still have caught the throbbing of his madly working motor had it not been for their own engine kicking up so much racket, jack not being inclined to make use of the capable silencer just then. perk had made up his mind that the unknown aviator, even if other than oscar gleeb, was undoubtedly working the same profitable line of business as the pilot of the curtiss-robin ship. so, too, perk considered it worth while to try and figure out the exact course of the high flyer as he was probably making directly for his intended goal and this knowledge was likely to prove useful to them later on. this he was able to accomplish. working mental problems come easily to one who has played the part of a navigator aboard a modern galleon of the clouds. "huh!" grunted perk after figuring out his problem twice and both times reaching the same conclusion, "the guy's really striking in to mighty near the same point jack's meanin' to make and mebee now our lines might cross if we both kept on goin' long enough." he studied this matter for some time, wondering if jack also realized the fact and had kept silent about it for good and sufficient reasons. it afforded the ambitious perk considerable satisfaction to hug the idea to his heart that possibly the chance might be given jack and himself to locate some of these land stations where all this flagrant smuggling business was going on--the prospect of their's being the force to deal the outlaw organization a killing blow brought in its train the thrill he loved so well. then came the moment when jack banked and changed his course radically, heading directly into the east where lay the peninsula of ponce de leon, seeker after the spring of eternal youth, and finding instead, a land of flowers. perk knew what this evidently meant--that jack had flown far enough up the west coast and was now bent on making for that inland sheet of fresh water he had mentioned to his comrade as a likely place for them to drop down and pass the balance of the night. the uncertainty was keeping perk keyed up to a high tension--something told him in no uncertain tones that jack had a vastly more important reason for attaining that lake than the mere desire to avoid attracting attention--just what it might mean he could not guess, for when he attempted to solve the enigma he found himself floundering in a shoreless sea of doubt and uncertainty that was baffling, to say the least. perk was mumbling to himself as if he might be on the verge of reaching some sort of decision. he bent forward several times as if about to make an important remark and on each occasion drew back, as though he could hardly decide how to approach the matter he had in his mind. then he would chuckle, as if it might have its humorous side as well as a serious one. already had they reached a point where he could easily see the shore several thousand feet below and now jack was sliding down as if bent on striking a ceiling that would be only a few hundred feet above the palmetto fringe perk could distinguish running along the coast. it seemed a fitting time for him to give jack the start he contemplated and so, summoning his courage, perk began to talk in as unconcerned a tone as possible. "partner, would you mind tellin' me what about this here oswald kearns?" chapter xvii okeechobee the mysterious "say that again, perk!" demanded the startled pilot, as though that apparently innocent question had given him a severe jolt. "oswald kearns--kinder queer name, i kinder guess now, an' i'm wonderin' if i ever heard it before--that's all, jack." the pilot was busy with his work in handling the ship and therefore debarred from turning his head to look at his companion but at least he could put the astonishment he felt into words. "so--you think that's a queer name, do you? well, i'm asking you again, where did you ever run across it--who ever spoke it in your hearing, perk?" "why--er, guess it was on'y _you_, partner," came the hesitating reply. "you don't say?" gasped jack, tremendously excited, "please tell me when that happened because i don't remember doing such a thing, though i meant to carry out our partnership arrangement this very night when we had settled down and could have a nice quiet confab--go on, though, and say when i lifted the lid, and let you into this part of our big game, perk." "huh! you talked in your sleep some, old hoss--first time ever i knew you to do sech a thing--said that name exactly three times, like it meant a heap in the bargain." "you mean _tonight_ while i was picking up a few winks of sleep--is that a fact, perk?" "sure thing, boss--course i knew somethin' must be pesterin' you like all get-out, so i made up my mind to ask you who that oswald might be an' what we'd got to do with such a critter." then jack laughed as the humorous side of his recent thrill had begun to grip him. "well, well, seems like i'll soon have to put a padlock on my lips after this when i hit the hay. it's a serious offence for a fellow in _our_ profession to give away his secrets like that! never knew myself to be guilty of babbling that way before. lucky you were the only one to hear me give the game away so recklessly. the joke is on me, partner." "but say, jack, whoever is this kearns guy anyhow--i sure never heard his name before tonight an' i kinder got the idee in my head he must be some big-wig you ran up against when in washington--somebody who had the orderin' around o' poor dicks like me'nd you." "that's a far guess, brother," jack told him, "for the fact of the matter is, this oswald kearns happens to be a certain party just now under suspicion as being the king-pin of these smugglers who're giving uncle sam a run for his money down along this gulf coast!" perk took it with a little break, as though the information fairly staggered him, but he was quickly back again at his fly-casting--seeking information at the fount in which he had so much faith. "you sent me into a reg'lar tail spin that time, jack, but after tellin' me so much, it'd be right cruel to keep me a'guessin' any longer." "i don't mean to keep you in the dark after this, perk," he was told in jerky, broken sentences, as though jack found it difficult to talk and pay the proper attention to what he was doing, for the amphibian had again commenced a steep dive, seeking a much lower altitude. "there are too many things connected with the story to try and spin it now--just hold your horses till we settle down on that lake, and you'll get it--all i know, or suspect, anyhow. just now i can only tell you that this kearns is a most remarkable personage, a baffling mystery to the department who's outsmarted the whole service and played his game of hide-and-seek before their very eyes--nobody so far has been able to pick up a shred of positive evidence that would convict him. "gosh, amighty, we're flyin' high, buddy!" was what perk exclaimed and immediately his wits went into a huddle. he must get busy and figure things out, just as football teams do when a change in signals becomes essential. they had been passing over the land for some little time and still jack kept heading almost directly into the northeast. he knew just where he expected to make his goal, due to a close application to his charts and maps of the florida region. debarred from fishing for information while the flight was on, perk was forced to seek consolation in making good use of his binoculars, sweeping the heavens for signs of other suspicious planes or endeavoring to make out the character of the terrain over which they were speeding. occasionally he managed to discover some tiny light and this gave him an opportunity to speculate as to its meaning--if isolated he concluded it must either be a campfire made by alligator hunters, or a street light in some small hamlet, such as he imagined might be found in this almost wild section of lower florida where the everglades with their eternal water kept settlers from picking out locations for starting truck patches or citrus groves--all of which would probably be vastly changed when the great reclamation plans for draining had been fully carried out. he often felt certain he glimpsed water below and had enough knowledge of the country to understand what that would mean. "wonder jest how long he means to keep this up," perk was saying to himself when the better part of an hour had passed since they left the open gulf behind, "huh! by this time we must a'gone more'n sixty miles an' say, in places the hull state ain't more'n a hundred across from the atlantic ocean to the mex. gulf. whoopee! could it mean he's aimin' to strike that terrible, big lake--okeechobee--that overflowed its banks not long ago when they had that nasty hurricane and drowned a wheen o' poor folks around moore haven? gee whiz! it's got me a'guessin' but then jack knows what he's tryin' to do, an' i'm goin' to leave it all up to him to settle." somehow this suggestion appealed to perk as being quite in line with the magnitude of their tremendous task--it was only appropriate to have the scene of their coming operations the biggest freshwater lake by long odds in the entire state, barring none--it would have been what perk might term as "small pertatoes, an' few in a hill," to have such a wizard of an operator as oswald kearns pick out an ordinary body of water, say of a mile in diameter, as his secret headquarters where he could continue to keep his whereabouts unknown to the government revenue men. lake okeechobee--well, that certainly offered some scope for any display of their own cleverness in finding the proofs they so yearned to possess in rounding up the "cantankerous varmint," as perk was already calling kearns in his yankee vernacular. it could not be much longer delayed, perk assured his eager self--less than another hour of this sort of work would take them entirely across the peninsula, and cause the plane to fetch up somewhere along the atlantic coast between miami and palm beach. much as perk would like to set eyes upon those two opulent southern winter resorts in the midst of their splendor, he felt that such a thing would hardly be proper under the conditions by which their visit would have to be governed--small chance for anything bordering on secrecy to be carried out in such a region of sport seeking and excitement day after day. ah! it must be coming closer now, he decided on noting how, far below the plane, he could make out what looked like a vast sea with little wavelets glimmering in the light of the moon--assuredly that must indeed be the lonely lake, long known as the home of mystery, okeechobee, the mightiest stretch of fresh water in the whole country of the south. jack was passing up along the western shore line as though his plan of campaign called for a descent in some obscure quarter where they could find a hideout in which to park their aircraft while they pursued their urgent call ashore. not the faintest gleam of light anywhere proved that settlers were indeed few and far between and this fact would also explain just why oswald kearns, wishing for secrecy and isolation, had selected this region as best suited to his purpose. now jack was dropping steadily, his silencer in full play--it was time for perk to get busy and through the use of his marine night glasses keep his pilot posted regarding what lay below them. chapter xviii the master crook one thing perk noticed with more or less satisfaction as they drew closer to the surface of the water was the fact that quite a stiff breeze seemed to be blowing out of the north. the waves were running up along the shore with considerable vigor and noise while the dead leaves hanging from the palmetto trees fringing the bank above the meagre beach kept up a loud rustling, such as would effectually drown any ordinary splash made by the contact of their pontoons with the surface of the lake. conditions could hardly have been more favorable for an undetected landing--the time was late, so that it hardly seemed as though any one would be abroad, the moon kept dodging behind successive clumps of dark clouds that had swept up from the southwest and everything seemed to be arranged just as jack would have wished. perk had received instructions from his mate to keep on the watch for certain landmarks that would serve to tell them they were not far distant from their intended location. when in due time he made out the wooded point that jutted out so commandingly from the mainland and had communicated that fact to the pilot, jack turned the nose of his craft sharply downward, proving that the decisive moment was at hand. noted for his ability to carry through a delicate landing, jack certainly never did a prettier drop into a body of water, fresh or salt, with less disturbance than on this momentous occasion, and they were soon riding like a wild duck, just within sight of the shore. there were no signs of anything stirring along the waterfront, perk observed, and yet if his suspicions were correct, there must have been considerable activity around that same spot, with a ship coming in laden with stupefied chinamen, terrified by making such a trip from cuba or some mexican port in a "flying devil" that could soar up among the very clouds and span the widest of angry seas--perhaps on the other hand the incoming aircraft would bring a cargo of precious cases, each almost worth its weight in silver or maybe the skipper would carry a small packet in his pocket that might contain a duke's ransom in diamonds that would never pay custom duties to the government. no wonder then perk was thrilled to the core with the sense of mystery that brooded over this most peculiar locality--to him it already assumed a condition bordering on some of those miraculous things he could remember once reading in his boyhood's favorite book "the arabian night's entertainment," the glamour of which had never entirely left him. but already jack was casting about, as though eager to find some place of concealment where they could stow the ship away and so prevent prying eyes from making a disastrous discovery--disastrous at least to those plans upon which jack was depending for the successful outcome of his dangerous mission. "we've got to taxi up the shore a mile or so," he was telling perk in the softest manner possible, although the noise made by the rolling waves and the clashing dead palmetto leaves dangling from the lofty crowns of the numerous trees would have deadened voices raised even to their natural pitch. "so," was all perk allowed himself to say, but it testified to his understanding of the policy involved in jack's general scheme of things. this was done as quietly as the conditions allowed, and how fortunate it was they had held off from crossing over from the gulf until the middle of the night--but then it might be expected that jack would consider all such things in laying out his movements. in the end they managed to get the amphibian between two jutting banks where the vegetation was so dense that there was no chance of a trail or road passing that way. in the early morning jack planned to once again conceal his ship, even as the captured sloop had been camouflaged by perk's clever use of green stuff. "that part of the job's done and without any slip-up," jack was saying, vastly relieved, "and now we can take things easy for a spell, during which time i'll try and post you as far as i can about this queer fish, oswald kearns, and what they've begun to suspect he's been doing all this while." "in the first place he's about as wealthy as any one would want to be, so the reason for his playing this game doesn't lie back of a desire to accumulate money. some say he must have run afoul of the customs service in the days when he hadn't fallen heir to his fortune and all this is just spite work to get even--a crazy idea, but there may be a germ of truth in it after all." "he has a wonderful place not far out of miami--they all say it's a regular palace, where he entertains lavishly and yet not at any time have they known of a raid staged on his castle, as some call the rambling stone building that shelters a curio collection equal to any in the art museums of new york city." "every little while oswald kearns disappears and no one seems to know his whereabouts--some guess he's fond of tarpon fishing and goes out with a pal to indulge in the sport, his destination being kept secret so that the common herd can't swarm about the fishing grounds and annoy him; then another lot say he is not the bachelor he makes out, but has a little cozy home somewhere else with a wife who detests society and that's where he goes when away from the miami paradise." "both of these guesses are wide of the truth--what they told me up at the treasury department set me thinking and i found some papers aboard that sloop we captured that opened up a startling line of action that might be unbelievable if it were any other man than the eccentric oswald kearns." "by the way, perk, after i'd committed the contents of those papers to memory i sent them by registered mail to headquarters because, you see, something might happen to us before we get to the end of this journey and i reckoned the department would like to be able to take advantage of our discoveries." "you did jest right there, partner," perk told him--he was sitting there drinking it all in with the utmost eagerness. "it sure would be a pity if we kicked off an' uncle sam couldn't profit by what work we'd done. but what you've already told me 'bout this here queer guy gets my goat, like as not there never was a feller as full o' kinks as he is." "i'm pretty certain of that, partner," jack assured him, "there's no doubt about his having been gassed in the war and that might account for his actions--he's dippy along certain lines and he finds this way of defying the government gives him the one big thrill he wants. it's almost incredible, i own up, but i believe we're going to prove it before we quit. "some men you know find this excitement in driving a speeding car along the beach up at daytona at a hundred miles and more an hour, others go out and hunt tigers in india, lions and elephants in wildest africa, but with this wealthy sportsman the craze takes the form of snapping his fingers in contempt at uncle sam's coast guard and all the revenue men in florida. "i was a bit skeptical at first, it all seemed so silly, such a whimsey for a rich man to fancy--taking such big risks just for the thrill he got--but the more i picked up about the man the less inclined i became to doubt, and by now i'm convinced it is the truth." "but what makes him keep all this smuggling business clear of this wonderful show place near miami?" asked perk, apparently still groping as though in a daze. "just wants to be living his double life," explained jack, "with one line never crossing the other--you might call it a jekyll and hyde sort of an existence. but the truth will come out in broad daylight if ever we _do_ round him up and catch him with the goods." "er--'bout how long will we be in makin' some sort o' start, boss?" asked perk anxiously. "we may have to stick around here for some days while we do a little spy work and lay our net," jack told him. "a great deal depends on, how the land lies and what success we strike in making our approach--you know how it is with all golfers--approach means a whole lot to them. but if we have the good fortune to nab our man after making certain we have plenty of convincing evidence to be used against him, why there's our boat ready to spirit him away before his gang can forcibly take him off our hands." chapter xix the scent grows warmer it all seemed so simple, as jack put it, that perk felt everything was bound to come their way eventually if not just then. all the same his sound common sense told him there was apt to be some pretty lively times in store for them before the end they sought had been obtained. he had the feeling of one who had been fed up on thrilling details and figured on having a great volume of tragic possibilities to mull over in his customary fashion--for all the world, as jack often told him, like a cow chewing her cud. realizing that jack had now posted him thoroughly, perk managed to curb his curiosity besides, the chances were his pal would be likely to frown on anything approaching garrulity. several hours passed and most of this time they spent taking short naps in order to keep in condition for anything that might crop up. then came the dawn, to find perk pawing over his haversack in which he had food stowed away, with which he calculated to meet any "hold-over" that might come along. that dawn was a wonderful one, especially for those unaccustomed to what florida could offer in the way of sunrises. even while the pair partook of their limited breakfast, they kept an eye on the amazingly delicate shades of color that marked the approach of the sun above the eastern horizon. but they had work ahead and could not waste time by lingering over the early morning meal. in order to lessen the chances of discovery it would be necessary for them to conceal the ship from spying eyes and with his former effectual result in camouflage as a sample of how it could best be accomplished, perk took it upon himself to repeat the operation. they had aboard the amphibian a cleverly arranged collapsible canvas boat that could be launched in short order and was to be propelled by means of a short but serviceable paddle. while up in canada with the mounties, perk had become quite proficient in the use of a paddle and also in balancing by sheer instinct while in a tipsy little canoe. accordingly he convinced his chum that since both of them could hardly expect to occupy the small shallop and carry any quantity of greens, it was up to him, perk, to put the job through in good shape. jack could be checking up his motor and taking a survey of the boat so as to make certain it was in serviceable condition. "cause you know, partner," perk went on solemnly, "when we _do_ want to skip out it's bound to be in a hoppin' hurry an' there'd be no time to look her over then, by jiminy. jest lie around an' take things easy-like--your work is a'goin to be mostly with the brain, while i'm the lad to use the muscle." jack felt that since the canoe was so diminutive, perk's logic was unanswerable, so he agreed to the division of labor. "only, if it turns out that the job's a bigger one than you reckon on, buddy, you'll let me take a whirl at it," he suggested, to which the other simply grinned and nodded his head. the work went on steadily and perk eventually had every part of the amphibian covered with deceptive green stuff, well calculated to hoodwink any air pilot passing directly over the spot. this accomplished, he was ready to call it a day and drop down close to jack for a resting spell. when they talked it was in low tones, almost bordering on whispers, for jack took no chances of some enemy being within gunshot range of their hideout, whose ears would be likely to catch the sound of ordinary voices. jack, observing what his chum had accomplished, felt compelled to give the artist his meed of commendation. "you sure made a fine job of smothering things with all this stuff, perk," he told him, which was music in the other's ears, since he would rather have jack praise him than any one he knew. "no easy thing to hide these stretched-out wings and the fuselage, too, as well as the shiny parts of the crate--motor, propeller, and such, but _you_ fixed it to beat the band." "can that sort o' talk, partner--it was a soft job an' anybody with sense could a'done it as good as yours truly. goin' to be a sure enough long day, 'cordin' to my way o' lookin' at it." "oh! nothing like having a little patience," commented jack calmly, for he seldom showed signs of being in a hurry. "men in our line of business must learn to just hang on and wait for the proper minute to strike the hook home in the fish's jaw." "yeah, an' then hang on some more, after they git the barb well hooked, with the game fish kickin' up an awful row," chuckled perk. "huh! don't i know how impatience is my besettin' sin and ain't i always a'tryin' to curb it? that's why i'm crazy to work in double harness with you, brother, 'cause you hold me in when i feel like spreadin' myself brashly. guess i know when i'm well off. time to take another spin in dreamland, seems like," with which remark perk assumed as easy a position as the crowded cabin of the ship admitted, closed his eyes, and so far as jack could tell from his regular breathing was asleep. it was indeed a long morning for them both. came noon and they again proceeded to enjoy a snack, for appetites have a habit of growing rampant despite any lack of expenditure in the way of muscular activity. "i was jest thinkin," perk remarked as they chewed their dry food, more as a duty than because they enjoyed it, "that we might be put on short rations if we're held up on this here job any great length o' time." jack refused to be disturbed by such a possibility. "oh! i reckon there isn't much chance of _that_ happening," he said in his usual optimistic manner. "if things get pretty bad we can make a foray on the pantry of the shack where our friend puts up when over here. knowing that he's fond of his grub, with oceans of the long green to lay in the best of supplies with, i rather think he keeps a well-stocked larder at all times. i don't figure on either of us being starved out while there's a flock of eatables close by," and from the way in which perk licked his lips on hearing this said, it was plainly evident he fully agreed with his pal. after that wonderful sunrise, which even perk had called glorious, the sky clouded up around noon and there were even signs to warn them that rain might come along by nightfall. the visibility, too, became somewhat poor which possibly was one reason that influenced jack to make a certain decision which perk heard later on with unbounded pleasure. "it's getting on my nerves a bit, too, i must confess, perk," was the way he started to state his case, "and since there would be small chance of discovery, thanks to this muggy atmosphere, what's to hinder our taking a little stroll, keeping a wary eye out for stragglers?" "i get you, partner," was the eager way perk snapped him up on the proposition which exactly tallied with what he himself had been wishing. "i calculate now it means we c'n move around an' get tabs on this here hideout o' the gent we're so much in love with, eh, what?" "wouldn't do any harm to learn the lay of the land," jack told him, "especially since we mean to do most of our snooping under cover of night. so let's step out and take our little saunter. we know right well in a general way that the shack must lie down the shore, by that point jutting out a mile away. let's hope we'll be able to run across some kind of trail by following which we'll fetch up as close as we want to go for the first time. both of us must make a mental map of everything we see so as to feel sure of our ground when darkness comes." "that's the ticket, partner, let's go!" perk lost no time in picking up the small hand machine-gun, that could be used much after the fashion of a long barreled german luger quick-firing pistol and when jack looked dubiously at it his chum hastened to explain his reason for lugging such a weapon along. "huh! the weight don't count with such a husky as me, old hoss an' how do we know what's goin' to happen before we gets back here? these guys, i take it, are quick on the trigger and if we got to fight we'd have a better chance to pull out alive if we carried this little pill-box." "oh, well! have it your own way, brother," jack told him, evidently impressed with perk's logic; and so they started forth. chapter xx denizens of the florida swamps after all it was perhaps a wise determination on the part of jack to thus take time by the forelock and endeavor to learn the lay of the land while a fitting opportunity lasted. to start out when darkness lay over everything, with no knowledge whatever concerning the prospect before them, would have doubled the chances for some grievous calamity overtaking them even before they were ready to strike their first blow. jack had a pretty strong suspicion they were in the neighborhood of some stretch of swampland--he was backed in this supposition by several things--the general low lay of the ground bordering the great lake and also the fact that snowy white egrets, as well as cranes, flew to and fro during the early morning, as though they must have a roost not far away and he had been told that as a rule these gathering places were to be found in the gloomy depths of a swamp. if they should chance to lose their way in those dark and dismal swamps and find themselves mired in the mud holes, they would be in a sorry fix, and they might even be forced to shout for assistance in order to save their lives, thus revealing themselves to their enemy, for the tenacious muck had a tendency to act in the same treacherous fashion as quicksand, clutching the victim and dragging him down, inch after inch into its unfathomable depths. hardly were they started than one pleasing discovery was made. just as jack had hoped might be the case, a dim trail was struck not far back from the border of the silent lake, that gave promise of leading them in the course they planned to go. jack made certain that there were no signs of this trail having been used by human beings--at least in recent times; possibly it may have originally been an indian trail in those days when osceola and his gallant followers dared defy the powers at washington and declare open war upon the few white squatters at that time in the southern portions of the florida peninsula. or, what was more probable still, it might be only the pathway used for ages by innumerable four-footed denizens of the swamp,--deer, panthers, raccoons, 'possum, foxes, wildcats and the like. it was a meandering trail, evidently following the path of least resistance for on both sides the shrubbery, together with wild grape-vines and various other climbers, made a solid barrier that even a weasel might have found difficult to negotiate. presently their road skirted the border of the swamp jack had felt so certain could not be far away. here new and wonderful sights greeted their eyes and perk in particular stared with all his might, taking in the flowers that festooned many of the trees--palmetto, live-oaks, wild plum, gumbo limbo, and queer looking cypress, with their cumbersome butts rising several feet from the ooze in which they grew. most of the trees were festooned with long trailing banners of gray spanish moss that gave them a most unusual appearance. since it was perk's first hand knowledge concerning the looks of a genuine southern swamp, he felt justified in making frequent halts in order to gaze and wonder. particularly was he impressed with the giant alligator that had been sunning himself on a half-submerged log and had slid off with a splash at their approach, also the multitude of water moccasins to be seen on stumps and other objects, looking most vicious with their checkered backs and dusty bellies. "you want to take particular notice of those dirty looking boys," jack told him in a low tone, pointing to a bunch of the reptiles as he spoke, "for they are water moccasins, cowardly enough, but always ready to give you a sly stab and i've been told they are so poisonous that even if a man didn't die after being struck, his wound would never heal properly and his life become a burden to him. give the critters a wide berth always, partner." "huh! you jest better believe i will, jack--never did care much for snakes, even the harmless kinds an' i'd jump three feet in the air when out west, if ever i heard a locust buzz, thinkin' it must be a rattler. me an' the crawlin' breed don't mix, that's what." hardly three minutes after perk had given expression to his dislikes, jack caught him by the arm and with a trace of excitement that was really foreign to his nature, pointed to some object close to the trail they were following. "jeru-salem crickets!" gasped jack, possibly a bit louder than discretion would warrant but jack felt there was some measure of excuse for his outburst. there a monstrous diamondback rattlesnake, fully five feet long and as thick through the body as a good-sized man's thigh, had just raised its enormous flat head and opened its jaws to display its terrible fangs. even as the two stood there and stared, the rattle began to whirr its deadly warning. "it's all right, perk," said jack soothingly, not certain what the effect of so dangerous a neighbor might have upon his sensitive pal, "we can pass him by out of reach. a rattler, unless madly in earnest, never tries to strike further than his length for he has to get back in his coil in a hurry, being helpless to defend himself unless curled up." jack showed that this was true by passing the spot, with the venomous reptile only increasing his rattle and drawing back his head. then perk shut his teeth hard and followed suit but it might have been noticed that he kept to the extreme edge of the narrow trail and had his muscles all set, as if in readiness to make a mighty spring if he thought the snake was about to launch his coils forward. "whew!" hissed perk, after he had safely negotiated the peril that lay in the road, "i'm a'thinkin' what risks we got to run tonight when we come a'snoopin' 'long this way. nigh makes my hair curl to figure on that baby comin' slap up against my leg. wish now i had my old leather huntin' leggings with me to ward off them terrible fangs, each one an inch long, seemed like to me." "between us, brother, i myself don't seem to hanker traveling along this trail after dark, and i mean to carry that small flash of mine, turning the light on every few seconds for i don't believe it would be noticed. but they tell me these whoppers are rather scarce around these sections--there may not be another inside of five miles." "glory! i should hope not," said the still trembling perk, "but i just can't forget we've got even one here to bother us. if only i dared use my gun, i'd soon knock spots out o' him, bet you a cookey, jack." "nothing doing, so forget that, partner. on the way back, if he's still holding the fort, we might get a couple of long, stout poles, and try to knock him on the head if it can be done with little confusion--he won't make any noise outside of whirling his rattlebox and we could keep our lips buttoned tight. yes, that would be the best way to fix things, i reckon." really jack was saying this so as to comfort his mate; he realized that perk had received a severe shock at sight of the diamondback crawler and it might affect his desire to do any prowling around after nightfall which would throw the entire burden of so doing on his, jack's shoulders. besides, there was a fair chance that the snake would have withdrawn from his self-imposed task of guardian of the swamp trail and taken himself off to other pastures. they resumed their forward progress, with perk keeping a watchful eye out for other lurking perils--how were they to know but that an angry bobcat, bent on disputing this invasion of his tangled realm, might make a sudden spring from some limb of a live oak and land upon their backs to commence using his keen claws, tearing and stripping and snarling like a devil, such as these beasts always were reckoned in such sections of the country as he, perk, had hunted. ten minutes, fifteen, passed then jack again caught his chum's arm and with a finger pressed on his own lips to betoken the necessity for silence, pointed to something ahead that must have just caught his attention. and perk, looking, saw a sight that afforded him a sense of satisfaction both deep and profound. chapter xxi the mysterious coquina shack "hot ziggetty! so _this_ is where he dropped down, is it?" perk was muttering in subdued excitement as his astonished eyes fell upon a plane bobbing on its pontoons in a sheltered little cove, "meet that spruce lockheed-vega bus, partner, that clipped past away over our heads, an' the woozy pilot never dreamin' our crate was within a hundred miles o' him. kinder guess the pirate roost must lie around here somewhere." "that's a dead sure thing, perk," whispered jack, "and chances are it's hid in the midst of that live-oak clump yonder, where i take it the land lies high and dry." "i swan but this is gettin' real excitin' an' suits me okay," breathed the duly thrilled perk, who felt there was no longer any reason for calling things tame. "by changing our base a bit," suggested jack almost as equally pleased over their success as his nervous chum, "we might even be able to get a squint at the shack, let's try, buddy." he lost no time in creeping inch by inch along toward the right, having apparently figured out that such a course would give them a better all-around opportunity to gratify their curiosity. it proved to be a wise move for presently they managed to glimpse what seemed to be the corner of a small cottage, built of coquina rock and altogether attractive in appearance, proving that the big boss never hesitated to spend money when he could secure results. "huh!" gurgled perk, stretching his neck so as to see better through the narrow opening that served them as a lookout, "some toney, strikes me, considerin' the desolate country round-about this section. must be his high-hat tastes foller him, no matter where he goes--sorter dude, i'd call him, partner." "that may be," agreed jack, "i understood he ran in that groove but just the same they say this kearns is a real he-man an' can put up a warm scrap when necessary--the dude racket is only a thin veneer hiding the genuine article. i was warned never to let him get a chance to beat me to the draw--some call him a rattlesnake, only he lacks that reptile's honesty in always giving warning when about to strike. don't forget, perk, in dealing with this slick article you've got to be on your guard every minute of the time." "glad you told me that, jack, i might a'been fooled, an' treated him as a soft guy. looky thar, will you, boy--two--three fellers jest swarmed out o' the shack an' gone into a huddle like they had some sorter game to set up. wonder now if one o' the bunch could be _him_!" "i reckon not, perk," came in a low tone from jack, whose head was only a few inches away from the other's, "none of them answer the description that was given to me. i even saw a snapshot taken of several society folks in front o' his miami castle, with him standing in the center. one of this lot's the flying man connected with that crate--you can see he's still wearing his greasy dungarees and has his helmet on his head, like he expected to be hopping-off any minute now; a second chap is short and thick, not at all like the one we've come so far to buck up against, while the third, while tall, looks like a roughneck skipper of a speedboat." "guess you hit the nail on the head, jack," muttered the convinced perk, for they were at some little distance away from the consulting trio, and their whispers could never have been heard with the dead leaves on nearby palmetto trees keeping up their harsh clashing when whipped by the gusts of wind. both of the spies must have had a host of speculations passing in review through their active minds as they lay there watching the conspirators so earnestly talking and gesticulating. from time to time jack and his chum would cast further glances in the quarter where the trim aircraft lay anchored, bobbing up and down like a restive horse eager to be off. what did they fetch on their voyage through the upper air lanes, coming from some unknown port--hardly "case stuff," jack told himself, since space aboard the lockheed-vega crate would be limited--then it must be either yellow chinks trying to crash the gates of the country that banned some of their race as undesirable aliens, or possibly the winged courier carried a batch of precious stones from far-away paris, forwarded in a round-about, surreptitious way and intended to reach a ready market in the wealthiest country in the world, of course, without paying the usual heavy customs duty--which saving alone would likely reach well into six figures. the trio seemed to have finished their discussion, whatever its nature might have been, for they sauntered down to the edge of the water where the man in the dungarees proceeded to embark by means of a small boat that he could leave secured to the mooring rope of the amphibian when he took off. "making off to pick up another cargo, i reckon," jack ventured. "and so this is where our friend has his secret hideout at such times when he so mysteriously disappears from his big show place near miami? mighty interesting, i'd call it and the chances are he's been keeping up this double play racket for many months, perhaps even for years, for he came to florida not long after the war, fishing for tarpon down around the ten thousand islands where we lay concealed lately." "but what's the big idea, partner?" perk wanted to know--"why under the sun does he play both ends o' this queer game--what's the sense o' his havin' this wee shack in the wilderness when he could carry on his racket just as well on the eastern shore?" "just because he fancies the idea of keeping his two personalities as far apart as possible, perk. uncle sam's coast guards, revenue officers and even secret service men fairly swarm around miami most of the year so they'd be apt to make it more or less unpleasant for the elegant oswald kearns in his society functions if he had his pals dodging in and out of his princely palace. he prefers to drop over here in this desolate place instead when he has a lot of business to transact. he's a wonder, all right, in his double line, perk, and not to be underrated, understand." "seems that way, partner," grumbled the other quickly adding, "there goes the lockheed-vega spinnin' out o' the lagoon to the open lake so's to get up enough speed for the take-off. must be somethin' mighty special to coax that pilot to risk bein' seen in open daylight. so he used to fish in them passages 'tween the mangrove islands years ago, did he, jack?" "sure did, and they told me his guide some years ago down there used to be a notorious smuggler and gulf-stream pirate, no other than jim alderman, right now in the jug over at fort lauderdale on the eastern shore and waiting to get a hempen collar for murdering three law officers in august two years back. of course, he hadn't started his real career of crime when he used to be a guide for roosevelt, zane grey, the writer, and some other famous sportsmen." "do tell," murmured perk, duly thrilled by what his pal was telling him concerning one of the most turbulent characters known along the florida coasts since those days of old when buccaneers like blackbeard, gasparilla and others of their ilk roamed the subtropical waters and swarmed aboard such unfortunate spanish galleons as chance threw their way. "i wouldn't be surprised," jack went on to whisper, "if he goes under quite another name while over in this hideout and even manages to alter his looks more or less. he's capable of playing many parts if he's half as good an actor as i suspect. but we'll be apt to know a heap more before a great while slips by." "there he goes, jack, swingin' off toward the east in the bargain, but then it's just as easy for a flier to strike across the lower end o' florida, if the notion strikes him, day or night. crates are gettin' to be a common sight these days down here. i read they expected to have a full hundred at miami this very winter, takin' part in a big air derby that's scheduled to be pulled off." they watched the other two men walk back and enter the coquina bungalow and a little later jack was saying: "strikes me we'd better pull up stakes and clear out of this, perk, don't forget we've got to pass that rattlesnake cove on the way back, and for one, i'm not so keen about doing it in pitch darkness." "don't get me goofy, partner," whimpered perk with a shudder. "but hold on a bit--mebbe now somethin's a'goin' to strike up we'll both be sorter glad to set eyes on--looky there, old hoss, what do you see?" chapter xxii the man of many faces a man had come out of the odd-looking shack constructed from the coquina rock found in different parts of florida, and formed by insects, science has decided. neither jack nor his companion had ever set eyes on him before, he was an entirely different personage from the short party and the longer-limbed man they had so lately been watching before the reckless pilot of the lockheed-vega plane departed toward the east. this individual was also tall and was dressed in well-worn outing garments that gave him the appearance of a man of leisure taking a day off. "think that's this here kearns, partner?" whispered perk, eagerly. "just who it must be, perk," came the cautious reply. "be careful about making any sort of little move that might catch his attention, and keep your eyes fastened on him. whatever under the sun is he doing, i wonder?" "looks to me he's got some sorter bird there--i c'n see red feathers--yep, that's what it is for a fact, jack!" "working over a bird with red feathers," said jack, as if to himself, so low was his voice. "now, that makes me remember something i was told only a short time back--something connected with that wonderful place he owns over on the east coast--about birds too--stuffed birds, in fact!" "do you mean he's got a collection there, jack?" breathed the intently watching assistant in his companion's ear. "just that," came the ready reply, "a mighty fine collection too, from all accounts, of native florida birds and filling a number of glass cases. we already know this party is a man of contradictory habits, being one thing among society people and just the opposite when he gets in a different atmosphere. chances are he's a pretty fine amateur taxidermist--those birds have all been secured by himself and mounted in the bargain--that when he drops out of sight around miami it's to come over here to do some hunting in the swamps and the everglades, eager to run across some rare bird that he needs to make his collection complete." "now wouldn't that jar you?" he gasped, vastly astonished at hearing jack air his conviction. "i'm not much of an authority on rare birds," jack admitted softly as he continued to use his eyes to advantage, "but i've got a hunch that skin he's handling right now might be a roseate spoonbill--i'm sure it isn't a red ibis, for the bill seems different." "whee! sounds queer to me, i must say jack--such a man, such a man--to play so many different parts! say, d'ye know i kinder guess he ain't such a tough guy under all the varnish--must have a heap o' human natur' under it all to fall for such a decent game as taxidecentry or whatever you call this pluggin' dead birds an' makin' 'em sit up on boughs like they might be all to the good!" "put it mostly on that war experience he went through, perk--they say once a man was gassed pretty badly over there, he'd always prove to be a queer fish--changeable, nervous and apt to do all manner of strange things." "but see here, partner," whispered perk, uneasily, "that ain't a'goin to make any perticular difference with our billet, is it--jest 'cause he's got this funny streak runnin' through his doin's we don't reckon to throw up our hands an' call it all off, do we?" jack chuckled. "not any, buddy--we only know that uncle sam wants his activities cut short--it may be exciting sport for him to ferry chinks across from cuba or honduras, land big cargoes of booze on our shores with his thumb to his nose insofar as the government is concerned, and such capers as that, but it means heaps of trouble for the revenue boys as well as holding our laws up to contempt. he must be brought to book, and his game stopped without any more delay than is necessary, no matter how many other innocent recreations he's engaged in." "hot ziggetty! that gives me a warm feelin' again, partner an' i guess we're the boys to knock the underpinnin' loose so's to make him drop with a splash." saying which, perk relapsed into utter silence. for some further time they stuck it out, watching every little movement of the remarkable character proceeding with his labor, not a hundred feet distant. jack himself began to grow a bit nervous, for the sun was just hovering above the western horizon and twilight does not last any length of time in the south. if they delayed much longer it would mean a walk in the dark over that dangerous dimly marked trail. they could have no further doubt concerning the nature of the work that was giving the suspected man so much genuine pleasure, he had held up the object of his labor several times so they could plainly identify it as a birdskin with the most lovely rosy-tinted feathery plumage, long legs and a spoon-shaped bill. then greatly to the relief of the uneasy perk, the short man came out of the shack and said something that caused the other to accompany him back, thus clearing the field. "now let's skip out," jack said softly. accordingly both watchers commenced sliding and creeping for all the world copying the movements of a cat ambushing a feeding sparrow in the back yard of a suburban place. although so anxious to get started on their way back to where they had left their camouflaged ship, neither jack nor his comrade would take chances in trying to make haste; they had long ago learned the folly of one false move when engaged in their accustomed job of spying upon a suspected law-breaker whom they had tracked down after an arduous chase. when finally they reached a point where it was safe to pick up a little speed, jack hastened to do so. for a wonder perk was not saying a word--the truth was he had his mind so filled with bewilderment in connection with the queer happenings of the last hour that he could not think of any further questions to ask his chum. then, too, perk kept on the alert for any peril that might by chance lie in wait along the trail--there were other dangers besides that solitary rattlesnake that might suddenly crop up to give them a chill--how about those nasty looking water moccasins that swarmed in the oozy swamp?--what of the ferocious bobcats such as were said to crouch on the lower limb of some tree close beside a woods trail, waiting to drop down on any moving object that came along?--yes, and other things just as creepy that his excited mind could readily conjure up? they were, as perk judged, about halfway to the spot where they had seen mr. rattler earlier in the day and the dusk was certainly beginning to make all objects look more or less dim, when jack suddenly stopped, giving perk quite a shock. "listen!" jack was saying huskily. a far-away and faint buzzing sound came to perk's ears but instead of adding to his excitement it really seemed to cool his blood, for surely this had nothing whatever to do with snakes of any kind. "huh! must be a crate partner!" bubbled the relieved perk. "no question about that, perk, and growing clearer right along, showing it's heading this way." "mebbe the lockheed-vega comin' back again?" ventured perk. "hardly likely," he was told instantly, "for one thing you'll notice this motor racket swings up to us from the southwest, while the other ship struck off toward the east." "that's straight goods," perk hastened to admit. "funny i didn't get on to that right away. means our gent has a raft o' ships comin' an' goin' when he takes a notion to drop over here once in a while." "well, we can't stop to listen any longer," said jack again starting off with the other trailing close at his heels. the buzzing grew rapidly in volume, proving that no matter where the advancing plane came from, its destination must be that secluded little cove close to the coquina shack sheltering the man of many faces, who went from fields of excitement to those connected with society functions, entertaining guests in royal style or following his favorite pursuit along the enchanting line of adding to his prized collection of florida birds. presently perk heard a splash and knew the amphibian must have reached its goal. chapter xxiii a pugnacious rattler in good time they reached the narrow point on the animal trail which marked the scene of their adventure with the rattlesnake. perk, wishing to be prepared for anything that might greet them, had picked up a stout cudgel with which he believed he could give a good account of himself should the occasion arise. but they passed the place and he was beginning to breathe easier when he was thrilled by a brisk and ominous sound from just ahead. instinctively perk clutched his chum by the arm and dragged him back a pace although this was really unnecessary, since jack had stopped walking at the same instant as perk. "gosh all hemlock!" broke out perk, "what d'ye think o' that--jest awaitin' round for us to come along--what a 'commodatin' little pet he is!" jack could see the suggestive bulk of the coiled snake lying on the path, with scant room on either side for them to pass--oozy depths of the swamp on one side and an angry rattler on the other. "just blocks our game whichever way you choose to look at it," chuckled jack with a shrug. "if we were monkeys, we could shin up a tree and climb over to that other one beyond, but since we're neither simians nor fox squirrels, we'll have to settle this thing some other way. drop that club, brother--it's too short for this business by three feet. to try and use it on that chap you'd have to step up within range of his spring and before you could get in your lick it'd all be over." "jest as you say, partner," remarked perk, throwing the stocky club away. "wait up for me, jack, an' don't let him skin out till i get back. i saw a stick just back a bit that ought to fill the bill okay." jack stood on guard and waited but not for long, since perk speedily rejoined him, carrying a pole about eight feet in length and stout in proportion. "careful how you work it," advised jack, who would rather have done the job himself but knew he would not be allowed by the ambitious one. as perk slowly advanced, waving his pole, the coiled serpent displayed signs of redoubled anger--louder buzzed his rattle while he drew back his flat head as though in readiness for action. "hold it there, buddy!" snapped jack. "now get a firm grip on your pole and draw back for a vicious rap--you've got to get him square in the middle and follow it up with more whacks in a big hurry. don't step any closer whatever you do. now, give him fits, perk!" this the other proceeded to do with might and main. the sprightly buzz suddenly ceased as the great folds of the monster began to squirm and writhe--perk lifted his pole and put in another blow for good measure. "huh!--guess now he's got his for keeps," gasped the victor in the singular duel as he managed to get in a third and deciding stroke that crushed the flat head of the reptile and forever ended its capacity for business. they were soon bending over the still squirming snake, perk eagerly measuring its length by footing it off and announcing it to be just one inch over five feet. "gimme just a minute so's to whip off that bully rattle, partner," he was saying as he produced a big pocketknife and opened its large blade. "i want it to show if any guy ever questions the truth o' my yarn 'bout these here florida rattlers. there you are, an' now i'm ready to move on. but we got to keep our eyes peeled, 'cause i been told these critters nearly allers have a mate somewhere near by. an' i'm meanin' to hang on to this bully pole, since we got to come back this way more'n a few times, seems like." nothing else cropped up to disturb their peace of mind and in due time the pair arrived at the secluded lagoon where they had left their aircraft so artfully concealed. apparently nothing had happened in this quarter since they started forth on their mission, and yet what strange things had they not seen inside those few hours. "seems like supper'd come in fair good jest new," perk remarked after they had climbed carefully aboard and were once more comfortably seated in their accustomed places, "but sorry to say it's bound to be only a 'pology for real grub--dry fare and never even a drop o' water to wash it down with." and he emitted a disgusted grunt, as if to display a proper amount of displeasure over the doleful fact. "i noticed a well of some sort just back of that shack," remarked jack as if he too, shared in this moan over the absence of drinking water. "when we go back we'll try and snatch a drink apiece so as to take the rusty feeling out of our throats. until then we'll have to put up with it, partner." necessity knows no law and so perk was compelled to grin and bear it. just the same, as they were munching their simple fare,--and little of that in the bargain--jack could hear him muttering to himself and chuckling from time to time as though he managed to squeeze more or less pleasure in simply mulling over a multitude of his favorite dishes until one would have imagined it was a waiter in a cheap eating joint down on the bowery enumerating what the house offered for dinner--_a la_ o. henry. later on perk gave signs of being what he called dopey, whereupon jack asked whether he felt inclined to start out again or should it be left to just one of them--meaning himself, of course,--to undertake the further job of spying. "not much you don't monopolize the fun," perk told him point blank. "i'm bound to step along with you even if there'd be a legion o' them rattlebugs lyin' in the trail awaitin' to sting us. when i get started on anything i gen'rally keeps right on with it, even if i have to wade through hell-fire. an' that goes, partner, see?" "i knew you'd say that, brother," jack assured him, seeing perk act as though hurt by the insinuation that anything would tempt him to let his pal meet the danger alone. "if you feel a bit empty down below, just rub your tummy briskly, then pull in your belt a notch or two and it'll make you imagine you're full-up to the brim. i'll be ready to start off inside another ten minutes." jack spent most of this time rummaging around in the locker where he kept his own personal belongings. perk knew when he got out that little but valuable hand flashlight, by means of which they expected to be able to keep on the winding and narrow trail when heading once more toward the lonesome coquina shack on the border of the great inland sea. "but i'm up in the air when it comes to knowin' what else he's stuck in his pockets," perk told himself, though somehow he managed to refrain from asking questions nor did jack seem anxious to enter into any explanations. "we'll leave things here all fixed so as to make a quick take-off," was what the chief pilot remarked as they prepared to step ashore and while he did not see fit to offer any explanation with regard to just what he had in mind, perk felt thrilled to believe there was already some daring plan taking form in his comrade's wide-awake brain that might be carried out if only the conditions seemed favorable, and the weather proved considerate. as they walked slowly along jack kept frequently snapping his light on and off so that they could take an instantaneous inventory of what lay just beyond their feet for the night proved exceedingly dark although all that would be changed after a while, when the late moon climbed into sight. perk, just as he promised himself, had made certain to pick up that serviceable pole with which he had dispatched the rattlesnake and this he kept poking out ahead, as if to stir up any lurking reptile that might be lying coiled in the path. his nervousness increased as they drew near the spot where the one-sided fight had taken place. he had apparently been brooding over the matter, wondering if the mate of his victim could have come upon the scene of the tragedy and sensing what had happened, was lurking thereabouts, bent on exacting a terrible revenge in payment for the untimely demise of her partner. when he felt certain they had passed this particular narrow part of the trail, perk began to breathe easier, but he soon had reason to fear lest he was crowing too soon for just then he felt jack buck up against him and heard him saying in a low but distinct voice: "hold up and listen, partner!" chapter xxiv on hands and knees even while jack was saying those few words, perk had recovered from his sudden alarm, since he already knew the reason for the other's bringing him to a halt. "huh! that crate's startin' off again, seems like," he muttered. indeed, it was a foregone certainty for the splash of water told the story as well as the abrupt explosions of a working motor. then, too, these suggestive sounds all came from directly ahead. then perk had another gripping fear which he imagined must have also seized his companion--that the chief object of their concern might be a passenger aboard that ship, heading once more across the state to miami and that in consequence, all of jack's carefully laid plans would meet the same untimely fate as befalls an ambitious soap-bubble when struck by a stray puff of air. so they continued to stand there and listen to the telltale sounds with sinking hearts. perk in particular seemed to be dreadfully put out by this fresh upset and was grinding his strong teeth as though desirous of letting out an explosive but restrained by the fact of jack being so close at hand. "gee whiz! this here is what i call tough luck, boss," he grumbled, more because he hoped jack might be able to dispel his fit of the blues in some way or other, having a much clearer vision than he himself possessed. "oh! i don't know, partner," said jack in a wholesome, optimistic tone. "it looks a little dark, but just wait a minute or so before you croak--after all, the thing may not be so bad--it doesn't pay to jump at conclusions." "shucks! that's me all over, old hoss, but i'm sure glad to hear you say the last chance ain't snuffed out yet," mumbled perk contritely, but at least he had gained his point which was to coax jack to mix a little good cheer in with the gloom that had descended on his, perk's soul. "there, he's off!" declared jack as a significant change in the clatter so thoroughly understood by any airman announced the hop-off from the surface of the lake. "an' nothin' happened to give him a spill, either," perk went on to say and the disconsolate vein in his tone told plainly enough how he had been secretly hugging to his heart a hope that the motor of the lockheed-vega crate might suddenly develop some fault, compelling the flight to be abandoned in its inception. "even that fact may yet turn out to be the best thing we could wish for," jack told him confidently, being built on the order of a fellow who could see something to rejoice over in nearly every occurrence, no matter how thick the gloom surrounding it. "there he swings up an' is off--a slick jump, b'lieve me an' that guy's some square shooter in the bargain--knows his business okay anyway. but jack, tell me, you don't think he's got our man alongside him, do you?" "well, one thing seems to tell me that isn't a fact, perk." "yeah, an' what might that be?" demanded the other quickly. "notice that he's already banking, so as to lay his course toward cape sable--square in the south--get that, don't you perk?" "i swan, but you're right there, jack--which looks kinder like he didn't mean to strike out for miami, don't it?" "more than likely he's hitting out for cuba, or if he veers to the west, it's mexico or honduras he means to head for." perk heaved a big sigh of relief. "hot ziggetty! but that sounds good to me, partner," he observed with renewed animation as hope again sang a sweet song in his heart. "then there's a real chance he ain't got our man alongside." they stood there and continued to listen as the sounds made by the flight of the retreating seaplane gradually grew fainter and even for brief spells died out altogether. "he's out o' the pictur' anyhow," perk finally commented when they could no longer catch the least thud of the working motor--only a more pleasing sound in the shape of gentle wavelets running up the shore of the great lake being borne to their ears. "yes, and since that's settled we'd better be making a further move ahead," jack was saying, in his sensible way. accordingly the advance was renewed, nor did they take any less precaution because of the departure of the flying boat. as before, jack continued to frequently make good use of his little flashlight, which proved its worth just as had been expected. so speedy were the flashes that it did not seem possible for any one to notice them unless he chanced to be on the watch for something suspicious and jack hardly anticipated such a thing as that. apparently the one who had planned the raid believed there was only one course for them to pursue and that was to keep on as though everything was just as they had hoped. even though an adverse fate chose to cheat them them of their intended prey on this particular occasion there would be other days to come,--and had he not promised to trap his man as well as to procure all needful proof to secure his conviction? they were soon drawing close to their goal--already jack had glimpsed a shred of light gleaming through the intervening brush which proved most conclusively that the shack could not be wholly deserted. "good enough!" perk whispered when this comforting fact had been brought to his attention, "we'll get his goat yet, partner." their progress was slowed up at this point for jack no longer believed it good policy to make use of his flashlight. they had to partly feel their way along, using both hands and feet to detect the presence of any obstacle that was apt to cause them trouble. still, the night was long and there was no desire to make haste--if they waited until those in the shack were apt to be sound asleep it would be much easier to carry out their plan of campaign without any chance of interruption. now they could get faint glimpses of the little cove, which the visiting planes were wont to use as a hiding place, taxiing thither after splashing down on the surface of the nearby lake. perk made a mental note of the fact that the cove was quite empty, no hostile crate bobbing up and down on the water--possibly this induced the dreamer to indulge in a hope that should the occasion warrant such a thing, they might taxi their own ship around and make use of that snug harbor safe from any ordinary gale that chanced to strike treacherous okeechobee. now they could see the light much better and even make out that it came from a certain window of the coquina shack--up to then perk acknowledged to himself that he had not known whether the modest little building boasted of windows or not, having discovered no evidence of their presence. so, too, he now made but a certain dark spot just beyond the shack which he strongly suspected might be the well shed of which the more observant jack had spoken earlier in one of their pow-wows. now that he found himself so near the spot where it seemed likely he could refresh his dry throat with a cup of fresh water, perk was growing wild with the eager desire to be doing so. he wondered whether his companion could have forgotten his promise and even opened his mouth to remind him concerning it but thought better of it for already jack had changed the line of his advance and was beginning to steer his pal in the direction of the well. in order not to take any unnecessary chances it was found that they must make a little detour in order to get past that shaft of light proceeding from the window in the rear of the shack. perk even begrudged the brief time taken in making this half circuit, though recognizing the wisdom governing jack's change of course. he dared not try to whisper now, lest his hoarseness cause him to make a sound so harsh and loud that it might be carried to hostile ears and be the cause of their undoing. then, after another delay when jack imagined he had caught a suspicious little scratching sound, as of something moving, they drew up on hands and knees alongside what seemed to be a rustic shelter covering an opening with a real windlass, rope and all, to fill perk's heart with joy in the belief that his throat was in a fair way of having its roughness relieved in short order. chapter xxv perk demands more water it was queer what chanced to be passing through the mind of jack ralston while they were thus creeping toward the little well in the rear of the lonesome shack on the bank of okeechobee. he had been reading a novel that was supposed to cover the famous and successful attempt on the part of general fred funston to penetrate the mighty wilderness in the north of luzon, the main island of the philippine group and effect the capture of the native rebel chieftain, aguinaldo who, with some of his associates, had taken refuge in a lonely cabin at a most inaccessible point. so vividly had the author described the manner in which the soldier and his companions crept up when making ready to seize their prey, that it was still haunting the mind of the airman and somehow the conditions just then confronting himself and perk seemed to be very similar. he only hoped they would prove to be just as successful in their mission as funston was when he carried aguinaldo back to manila, and thus broke the backbone of the native uprising against the authority of uncle sam. perk was already reaching out toward the bucket he discovered perched on the rocky border of the well. jack could hear him give a chuckle of satisfaction on rinding it half full of water and felt himself a bit tickled to see the way in which his chum proceeded to greedily fill up with the precious liquid. little perk cared if the water chanced to be stale--he had no complaint coming on that score as long as his parched throat and tongue came in for a good soaking and the choking sensation was immediately relieved. perk must have suddenly remembered his lapse of manners, for in the midst of his drinking spree he stopped short and stepped back as though to invite his comrade to take his turn. this jack showed no hesitation in doing, drinking long and with considerable ardor though he knew when to stop, which was what perk did not for no sooner had the other released his hold on the bucket than perk took another turn. in the end jack was compelled to almost drag the other away from the well possibly for fear he burst or else some one come out of the shack and discover them prowling there, unwelcome intruders on oswald kearns' privacy and a positive threat to his peace of mind. it was hardly a time and place for doing any talking, no matter how subdued their voices. jack kept hold of the other's arm and thus started to steer him in the direction of the lighted window. perk must have guessed what his pal had in mind for he made no resistance whatever, just allowed himself to be steered as his comrade wished. stooping down they crawled past, and then closer until they could begin to glimpse the interior of the room where the light was dispelling the darkness. the first thing that struck jack was the fact that the place had been fixed up with an eye to comfort--it looked almost luxurious with its easy chairs and imported rugs that must have cost a considerable sum. evidently oswald kearns had been too long accustomed to comfort to deny himself such luxuries even when seeking seclusion in this out-of-the-way retreat. then jack found himself looking upon the man who had for years been one of the greatest mysteries the treasury department at washington had ever endeavored to trap, he was sitting in a big leather-covered easy-chair, smoking a cigar and busily engaged with a sheaf of important looking papers. from time to time he would refer to a volume that had the appearance of a ledger or account book and to which he seemed to attach great importance. how the sight sent a succession of thrills through the whole being of the secret service sleuth--here he found himself within arms length of the master crook who had laughed to scorn all previous efforts of the government to take him with the goods on. vainly had every possible attempt been made to catch him off his guard; he had proved himself to be too crafty for the best revenue officers put upon his track. and when failure after failure became the rule, the big boss had decided to change the policy they had hitherto followed and put an air pilot on the job as being able to go swiftly and easily where others had been so cleverly balked. then jack began to wonder where the other two men might be, for thus far he had failed to discover either in the room of the lighted window. could it be possible both of them had sailed away aboard that lockheed-vega ship, bent on some important mission which the master had entrusted to their care? he could not bring himself to believe this possible--that he against whom so many hostile hands were raised would be willing to stay all by himself in such a lonesome place unless it seemed unavoidable. one or both of those aids must be somewhere around. just the same he could see no other room connected with the stone building--it was always possible, however, that there might be another shack--perhaps a crude palmetto-leaf hut, such as the poor whites in the backwoods lived in, somewhere not far away that served them for a shelter when it rained or a bustling norther came howling down from the regions of snow and ice and zero temperatures. jack had about reached this conclusion when he discovered a figure, covered with a fancy navajo blanket, on a cot in a corner of the place--yes, there was a head on a sofa pillow such as would be more in place over at the beautiful miami estate than here in such a desolate region. somehow he quickly assumed this must be the shorter party--which would go to prove the other fellow might have accompanied the pilot of the departed airship. when he had decided this to his entire satisfaction, jack was able to figure on certain matters. it undoubtedly meant that he and perk would have just two pitted against them in case things came to a showdown, making it an even fight with victory perching on the side that was quickest at the draw. he seemed to remember every warning he had received in connection with not under-rating this remarkable man, so greedy for excitement that wealthy though he was, he would seek all manner of thrilling adventures just to have the laugh on the government, especially the secret service men toward whom he was said to entertain a feeling of almost wolfish hatred. so too, did jack take note of every object spread before his searching gaze in the shack where oswald kearns seemed to be busying himself in the pleasing occupation of making up his secret accounts. that book, as well as the sheaf of papers rather fascinated the watcher outside the window--somehow jack conceived the idea that there before him was spread all the incriminating evidence needful to bring the erratic career of this amazing man to an abrupt end--to put a stop to the mammoth illegal operations he had so long conducted in secret and by which he had impudently flaunted all the powers in washington, just as though he had sent them a message worded, "well, what are you going to do about it? break up this fine game if you can." if only they were able to get him fast in the net before he could make any attempt to destroy that book and those papers--jack felt convinced a generous fortune had not allowed him to see such a prize only to snatch it out of his reach through fire or some similar means of destruction. but here was perk pulling at his sleeve as though he had a communication of the utmost importance to pass along. accordingly, jack, who himself was ready to effect a change of base so that speedy action might be decided on, moved back from the window. "what is it, perk?" he whispered, at which the other began to make suggestive gestures toward his throat, and nod his head violently. "i c'n feel it comin' on again, partner--the ticklin' feelin' you know, an' i'm afraid i'll start acoughin' to beat the band--must have more drink." it seemed nothing could be done until perk's sensitive throat had been properly attended to, so once more they crept and trailed along until the vicinity of the well had been reached. here perk started to swill, as though his capacity for holding water had no limit. it was just at this particular moment, when both of them were hanging over the well curb that a shaft of light suddenly enveloped them as the back door of the shack opened and the figure of the short man came in sight with a new tin or aluminum bucket in his hand as though his purpose was to get a supply of fresh water. chapter xxvi the fight at the well. "gosh!" perk hissed this one word even as he ducked down behind the well curbing at sight of the figure in the doorway. jack was not a breath behind him, both acting through mere intuition or instinct. whether they had been seen was the important question flashing through the mind of each. there was no sudden outcry which seemed a favorable sign, jack decided and the short, muscular man was even then emerging from the interior of the shack, evidently bent on replenishing the drinking water supply. perk thrust his eager hand into the pocket of his leather jacket to grip his automatic with the idea that he would be needing it before many more seconds had ticked off. in his mind he entertained a comprehensive view of what their plan of action would most likely be--to down this husky chap, either by means of a blow or else a bit of lead delivered where it would do the most good--then a swift rush into the shack and crushing the ex-war veteran before he could fully grasp the meaning of it all. easy enough to figure it out after this manner, but there must be considerable chance that matters would not work so smoothly. for one thing it must be considered that oswald kearns was no weakling, but a more or less athletic figure, accustomed to feats of strength and agility beyond the measure of an ordinary man. then, too, he was known to be irrational, even to the length of being considered dangerous when thoroughly aroused and it went without saying that he must always be well armed for in his reckless way of living he must many times be in close touch with desperate characters, some of whom might conceive it worth while to plot against his liberty, with a heavy ransom in their mind's eye. it was quite too late for either of them to think of slipping off, since the light from the interior of the shack poured through the open door and dissipated the friendly darkness in that especial vicinity. consequently all they could do was to continue to crouch there in the shadow of the well curbing, and await whatever was scheduled to come to pass. if perk had been so eagerly praying for something to breeze along that would give him the thrill he loved so well, his wish seemed well on the road of being realized since everything was set for a dramatic discovery with its attendant speedy action. it was apparent that after all the man could not have glimpsed their vanishing faces as they ducked so swiftly, for he continued to advance in the direction of the well and perk could hear him softly singing, just as though he might be a "musical cuss," as perk told himself with one of his customary chuckles since his first stab of alarm had passed off under the realization that they had another chance. jack, too, was telling himself what a peculiar state of affairs had come upon the stage--here, with an ambush lying in wait before him, this man could step blithely along, swinging his aluminum bucket and softly warbling one of the most recent hits from a comic opera--jack had himself heard the song on the boards of a great metropolitan theatre in new york--had even caught himself whistling the catchy air more than a few times since. the man who seemed to be so well pleased with his fortunes while basking in the favor of the wealthy chief of smugglers had a little surprise waiting for him at the end of his rainbow--if those lurking shadowy figures knew their business and managed it as they should, he would be singing quite a different air before a great while, perhaps interlarding his humming with a choice variety of expletives concerning the cruelty of fate. a few more steps and he would have reached the well--then what must take place? perk was asking himself as he crouched there, his muscles set and his breath coming in little noiseless gasps--he resembled nothing so much as a cat ready poised to make a deadly leap upon a fat robin struggling with a worm that it had pulled halfway out of its hole. there was not one chance in twenty that the man could actually reach the well, drop the bucket down, switch it around in order to induce water to enter and then make use of the windlass so as to draw it to the top, without discovering the presence of those two huddled forms; so perk did not deceive himself in the least with any extravagant hopes of the affair passing off smoothly and their plans being uninterrupted. now the man had set his pail down and was giving the well bucket a switch as though intending to dislodge any stale water it might contain. from this little incident jack understood that undoubtedly the man must himself have left the water they had used up in the bucket when last at the well and subconsciously remembered the fact. he went about the job of lowering the rope with the manner of one quite familiar with the necessary movements, pulling the rope from the barrel of the windlass hand over hand. then there came a splash, a gurgle and following these symptoms of success the man, with a jerk at the rope, managed to sink the bucket. next he started to turn the handle in order to fetch the bucket to the top of the well. in order to get a better purchase on the handle, he took a step to the left, and as luck would have it, struck his knee against the crouching form of perk. then came a quick look downward, since he was naturally curious to know what sort of object he had collided with--possibly he may even have had a sudden suspicion it would turn out to be some native beast from the neighboring swamp--possibly a panther, since such animals had been known to frequent the western shore of okeechobee as a hunting-ground in days gone by. of course he instantly made a startling discovery, since there was enough light to show him the form of a man doubled up against the rocky well curbing. it would have been instinctive for the man to have let out a yell on making this discovery but he did not have the chance to give tongue, at least fully, for perk made a lightning-like spring and had both hands clasped about his throat effectually throttling the intended shout so that it emerged only as a queer sound, rather on the order of a bull alligator's bellowing suddenly cut short. that was but the beginning of the affair as perk knew only too well it must prove to be. he found he had a tough proposition on his hands for the man struggled desperately, as who would not on finding his wind suddenly cut entirely off with a pair of iron-like hands pressing his throat as though it were gripped in a vise? jack sprang up, ready to lend his pal any necessary assistance if only the opportunity showed itself. just then all he could make out in the dim light was a whirling set of wildly struggling figures, looking for all the world like one of those teetotums children delight in spinning--only on an exaggerated scale. then they went down with a crash, first one on top and then the other in rapid succession. it would have made an excellent picture for the silver screen, jack could not help thinking while he drew his automatic and kept tabs on that open door, more than half expecting to see oswald kearns dash wildly out with some sort of machine-gun in his hands, ready to take a chance in the game, knowing that the attack must have everything to do with his own safety. perk seemed to be hanging on with the tenacity of a bulldog, for not another peep did the wolfish man, whose throat he squeezed, give vent to as the slam-bang fight continued. it was lucky indeed there chanced to be a raised wall about the well or in their frantic staggering this way and that the wrestlers might have plunged down into the yawning aperture, much to their mutual discomfiture--as it was they smashed up against the curbing several times, to emit grunts at the rough contact. finally, jack, to his relief, saw perk slam his now weakening adversary to the ground and immediately follow this up by sending in a number of furious blows that took every atom of fight out of the unfortunate chap who collapsed as if wholly done for. perk himself was far from fresh--his breath came in gasps and he must have been trembling in every joint from the tremendous exertion put forth but as always, victory was sweet in his nostrils and after assuring himself that nothing further need be feared from the man he had downed, he struggled to his feet, and ranged himself alongside jack, as if to declare his readiness to fight it out along those lines if it took all night. chapter xxvii at bay jack had been keeping a watchful eye on the nearby shack, not knowing what moment a raging figure might come dashing forth armed with a rapid-fire gun and ready to sweep up the earth with the mangled bodies of himself and perk. somewhat to his surprise, and greatly to his relief as well, nothing of the kind came to pass. suddenly he realized that the door of the squatty little coquina rock building had been closed, for no longer did the light spread a banner out into the black night. "drag him back of the well here, perk," he said softly, "we've got to make certain he'll give us no further trouble. got that piece of stout rope i gave you?" "right here, partner--wrapped around my waist," and as he thus managed to make himself heard, even while so short of breath, perk caught hold of the nearest leg of his late antagonist and without the least ceremony dragged the senseless man several feet just as he might a bag of meal--when head-over-heels in a real scrap perk counted his opponents as so much junk whose fate it was to be handled without ceremony and yet after the row was over, no one could be more solicitous about binding up their hurts than gabe perkiser. "use the rope to fasten his ankles together," advised jack, standing guard meanwhile with his automatic ready for business and his keen eyes roving around in search of signs along the trouble line, "and knot it half a dozen times so it would take a knife blade to get free." "all done up brown and slick, jack old hoss, now what?" announced perk a minute or so later. "clap that new pair of bracelets on his wrists," further explained the head pilot briskly, "and be sure to frisk him for a gat or even a knife. you see, we're going to have our hands full with the boss and can't fool around with this chap any longer." "his name is mud!" scornfully declared perk briskly as he completed his task with the manner of one to whom it had become an old story. the fellow, it seemed, had recovered his senses for he tried to bite perk's hand and received a solid thump on the head for his pains. "so far, good," jack was saying, half to himself. "now let's move along to the house and make sure our bird hasn't skipped out while we were so busy at the well here. got all the drink you want, perk--we can't be coming back every little while just to wet your long neck!" "it's okay with me, boy, let's go," the other announced with a chuckle. leaving their prisoner lying there they started an advance on the shack. both eyed it carefully as they crept along and it was perk who noticed the first favorable sign. "door's shut, partner, but the light's still on--you c'n lamp a streak down near the sill, think he's on deck yet--ain't cut an' run like a blue streak?" "we'll soon find out," jack assured him. "'twouldn't be like a guy with his reputation as a scrapper to clear out so quick. i'm wondering whether he's fixing up some hot reception for us when we break in." "hot ziggetty! that is sure some rummy scrap," perk muttered as he kept close tabs on the shack now close by as though he more than half anticipated seeing it suddenly burst into flames, or go up in fragments under the influence of an explosion. now they had reached the door and jack made a slight effort to open it, but with no success. "no use," he whispered to his kneeling mate, "it's got the bar down in place. listen and see if you can catch a sound from inside." a minute passed with both straining their hearing to the utmost--perk even laid his head against the closed door so as to better catch any suspicious sound from within. "huh! guess they ain't nothin' doin', partner," he hissed in a disappointed tone, "thought i did get a little ruslin' sound, like paper bein' crumpled up when you're a'makin' a fire, but don't hear it no longer." "paper, you say?" snapped jack uneasily, "i don't like that any too much." "why not?" asked the other, evidently at a loss to understand why such a simple little thing like that could annoy any one--what if the man at bay figured on setting fire to the hidden little retreat he had arranged here close to the lonely lake where he could slip away whenever he felt like shunning those society people over at crowded miami--he surely had no intention of cremating himself and they could nab him if he started to make off. "paper--don't you know what he was doing when we peeped in--that book ought to be worth its weight in gold to us as evidence and that stack of papers that he was looking through--if he's given enough time he may put a match to the bunch and destroy everything that could be used against him. we've got to keep him from doing that, brother." "yeah--but how?" gasped the other, showing renewed signs of excitement as he visioned the holocaust with their fine plans going up in fire and smoke just when they seemed about to corral success. jack answered that question by striking the door with his foot, the result being a loud thump. then he caught hold of his chum and dragged him to one side. none too soon was this done, for there came a series of staccato explosions from inside the shack and tiny gleams of light in various sections of the door told that bullets had passed through the wood in a number of places. only for this prompt action on the part of the cautious one, either or both might have had leaden pellets lodged promiscuously about their persons with resultant painful sensations. "wow! that was what i'd call a close shave," whispered the kneeling perk as he surveyed those suspicious holes in the badly riddled door, all on a line with any crouching human figure without. there could no longer be any doubt as to the warlike intentions of the man they had at bay, his fighting spirit, first fed during those bloody days and nights in the argonne, had burst into flame again and he shed his free and easy character as the lord of that wonderful palace at miami to assume the rough and ready type of an adventure-loving smuggler chief, quick to defy all authority while the red blood rioted in his veins. "we've just got to keep him on the jump," jack was saying, "so's to occupy his attention and keep him from putting a match to those papers and that priceless account book with its addresses. here, find a way to get in a smash or two on the door, like we meant to break in--i'll slip around and see what can be done at the window." "jack, i 'member there's a log a'lyin' right over there--why couldn't i use that an' really break through?" "too dangerous, buddy--he'd turn that terror of a machine-gun on and wipe us off the map. do what i'm telling you, only keep back so he can't get you when he shoots again." "just watch my smoke," grunted perk, stooping to feel around for some object that could be made available for the purpose of a door knocker. "wait," he heard the other saying as he was starting to move off. "here's a little pile of rocks--pick up one and toss it on the roof of the shack--make him think we're climbing up, meaning to break in that way--anything to keep him so busy dodging and firing he'll have no time to start that blaze." perk grasped the main idea, which was to fight for time--given even half a chance, he knew his pal would find some way to accomplish the end he had in view which was to take kearns a prisoner with enough positive evidence of his guilt to convict him when placed on trial in a federal court. hastily then did perk scramble for the rocks mentioned by his companion--it was much too dark for him to see where they lay, but he used his common sense with such signal success that almost immediately he found what he sought. to toss up a good-sized rock with such vim that it came down on the roof with a loud bang was the work of a few seconds. hardly had the crash sounded than perk had another missile on its way and as long as the pile held out he meant to keep up a continual fusillade that would have the man inside guessing. chapter xxviii the come-back it was more or less fun for perk to keep up that bombardment as long as he had any ammunition left--the heavy thumps on the roof continued to follow each other, like blasts in a quarry or an admiral's salute when the "old man" took a notion to come aboard. so, too, would each concussion be followed by a spurt of gunfire from behind the closed door of the shack showing that oswald was alive to the situation and must be enjoying his share in the strange engagement quite as much as the fun-loving perk did his part. if the little rock pile held out and there were enough ammunition belts for the machine-gun handy, the chances were that the roof of the bungalow would assume the nature of a sieve and leak when the next heavy rain storm set in. perk was fully aroused now, and awake to his part of the bombardment--his mind began to figure just what other means lay within his reach to continue engaging the attention of the rat in the trap after the last rock had been fired. some of them he knew had rolled off the slightly sloping roof after accomplishing their duty. if only he could lay hands on them they might be made to serve again but the darkness would make this problematical. there was that log he had mentioned to jack--with it he fancied he might do something to keep up the feverish interest in the game and hold oswald's undivided attention. what added more or less to the thrill he was enjoying was the fact that at any minute the ready marksman inside might succeed in reaching him with a bullet fired at some new angle. jack had told him how kearns was said to be quite a wizard at making bullseyes in a flying target either with a pistol or a rifle. he was still going heavy although nearing the end of his ammunition, when something not on the calendar came along, something so unexpected that perk was taken quite by surprise. a weighty and metallic object struck him on the head with such violence that he saw a million stars all at once, as though a myriad of rockets had exploded simultaneously high in the air. he went down like a stone, his senses reeling under that frightful impact and yet half conscious of the fact that some one must have come up behind him in the darkness and struck him with a heavy weight. now he could feel hands groping about his person as though seeking to find where to follow up that first blow with another that would effectually wind up his career for keeps. rendered desperate by the nature of his situation perk threw up both hands and chancing to come in contact with a human form, closed in with what might almost be called a death grip--his one object being to thus hold the unseen enemy close and prevent him giving a second blow that would be in the nature of a knockout. he met with fierce resistance, but no matter how desperately the other struggled and fought he was unable to break perk's terrible hold, so like that of a fighting bulldog, once its teeth have closed for keeps. there the two antagonists rolled to and fro, striving in turn to get on top, only to be over-turned in rotation. what made it all the more exciting was the fact that the man in the shack, hearing all those queer noises, must imagine his enemies were trying to burrow under the door for he kept up frequent furious bursts of gunfire and at any moment an unlucky roll was apt to bring the wrestlers within range of the hail of bullets. one thing favored perk--he was by degrees getting over the deadening sensation following that frightful blow on his head--apparently the other was weakening in the same proportion that perk was gaining strength, showing that he must have been in anything but prime condition when the tussle started. it was this potent fact that gave perk his first inkling as to the identity of the man with whom he struggled. at first he took it for granted the fellow was the tall confederate they had noticed with kearns during the late afternoon, and who had perhaps been away and returned to the shack just at this interesting moment to find it in a state of siege. he had hardly begun to get an inkling as to the true state of affairs when one of his hands, in seeking to get a firmer hold, chanced to come in contact with something cold and hard. then he understood just why his antagonist seemed to be so handicapped in the scramble--he could stretch his hands apart only so far--they were apparently held fast in some mysterious fashion. it burst upon perk like a bomb from a sky chaser--why, after all this was an old friend of his, one whom he had only recently been hugging with all his might and main--in fact no other than the short confederate of kearns whom they had left beside the well but a brief time previously. in some manner, which was a complete mystery to perk, he had managed to get his legs free from that binding rope which had been wound around and around his ankles in many coils and then knotted half a dozen times. perk found it hard to realize this puzzling fact, but just the same he knew it must be the truth. he proceeded to continue his rolling process with additional vim, partly because he now knew the other could not get a chance to whack him again with both hands handcuffed--for that was what had actually occurred and it proved his first surmise--that hard metal had come in contact with his cranium. presently it came about that perk was enabled to clutch the throat of his antagonist and for the second time close his fingers on his larynx, shutting off his wind completely and causing history to repeat itself. the fellow gave up immediately, thus hoping perk would diminish that paralyzing grip which the other condescended to do. when this had been carried through perk made up his mind not to trust to a rope again--in the first place he had no rope and even if this were not the case he had for the time being lost all confidence in ropes as restraining agents. he remembered he had a second pair of steel bracelets in one of his pockets, having fetched two pair along with the idea they might have to include some pal of kearns' before finishing their job. he quickly had the fellow lying inert and acting as though he did not have another bit of fight left in him. managing to pull out the handcuffs, perk first tested them for size, and finding he could snap them shut after circling the ankles of his prisoner he did so with a vim. this would effectually prevent the man from getting any distance away, since he could move his feet only a few inches at a time at the best. perk struggled to his feet, feeling more or less dizzy. his first natural act was to put a hand to his head, and feel it gently, in order to ascertain the character and extent of his injuries. there was a cruel lump on his crown and he knew blood was streaking his face but on the whole he did not believe he was very badly hurt--perhaps after the double beating the other fellow had received at his hands he was worse off than perk--an idea that started the latter chuckling, even if the act caused him a sudden dart of pain that made him wince. then he remembered what was going on, knowledge of which had been knocked out of his head by the unexpected fight that had taken place. how about jack? he dimly remembered hearing further shots from behind the barrier, although unable to decide whether the bullets continued to break through close to the bottom of the door or otherwise. could this later fire have been directed at jack, who had unwisely exposed himself at the side window? perk was strongly tempted to disobey orders and hasten around the corner in order to learn the worst. if that daredevil inside had hurt his pal he would be mad enough to find some way of blowing up the shack and the gas-mad ex-soldier along with it, regardless of consequences. he only waited long enough to run his swollen hands over the recumbent figure of the man in irons so as to make sure he could not play the same mean trick a second time. finding everything fast, he turned away from the scene of his recent ruction, and hurried around the corner of the shack, bent on backing up jack or, in case his pal had been placed out of the running, to avenge his injuries without delay. chapter xxix a last resort meanwhile how fared jack in his share of the attempt to corner the defiant and persistent law-breaker? he had crept around the corner after leaving his chum, fully convinced that some sort of heroic measures must be brought to bear on the ugly situation if they hoped to succeed. one thing had already been amply proved--this was the unmistakable fact that oswald kearns must be having one of his occasional brain sprees, the result of his wartime gassing when he was apt to tip over his balance and for the time being imagine himself beset by a myriad of bitter foes whom it was his duty, as well as privilege, to mow down, regardless of everything. acting under this delusion he was doubtless resting under the belief that these were hun machine-gun squads secreted in nests in the argonne and that he was duly recruited by heaven to round them up, disseminate their number, and fetch a goodly bunch into the american lines as prisoners of war. his readiness to shatter the door of his own lodge was evidence of his obsession, jack firmly believed and from which he deduced the opinion that as long as his equipment held out he was ready to keep up that hot bombardment under the belief that the enemy were falling like dead leaves in the frosts of late fall. this being the case, jack understood how exceedingly careful he must be not to expose even the tip of his nose, since everybody said oswald was a most wonderful hand with firearms. no sooner had he turned the corner of the rock shack than he made a discovery that gave him some satisfaction. at least the man inside had not considered it necessary that he extinguish the lamp for there was a certain amount of light coming from the window--only tiny lances, showing that some sort of shade had been drawn down as far as it would come. so jack crawled hastily forward, bent on taking a peep if it could be accomplished without too much risk. having gained a position directly under the window, he considered just how he must go about it and so discovered that a plant of some sort--perhaps a young orange tree, was growing alongside the shack. taking hold of a sprig, he gently moved it across a portion of the opening and on finding it attracted no attention from within he next pushed his head up with the bunch of green foliage. this resulted in giving him a quick survey of the interior--he could see what had come before his vision on his previous survey but at first he failed to discover any human presence. the fact gave him a feeling of chagrin, under the impression that kearns might in some mysterious way have been able to quit the rock house without being discovered and that they had been outwitted. in that brief period of time jack seemed to glimpse all manner of strange tunnels leading from the secret retreat of the smuggler to certain exits back in the pine woods, craftily constructed for just such an emergency as had now come to pass. then he suddenly changed his mind on realizing how next to impossible it would have been to construct such underground exits when the near presence of great okeechobee would make digging quite out of the question, since water must of necessity seep into any such passage and fill it full. jack, looking further, had just managed to discover a leg that was thrust into view when perk's first rock crashed on the roof, making a terrific noise. following this came a burst of gunfire with the acrid powder-smoke filling the room and making seeing next to impossible. jack crouched down to do a little thinking as well as listen to the exchange of compliments between the warring forces--every loud detonation as a lump of coquina rock fell on the roof would be followed by its complement of rapid gunfire, just as though the man at bay was bound to keep up his side of the battle even if he had to create a shortage in his ammunition supply. it was fierce work, yet bordering on the ludicrous, jack told himself, meanwhile wondering just how long perk's heap of missiles would persist, also what was bound to happen when the rock pile was gone. doubtless the near-demented man inside must be working up to a feverish pitch under the impression that he was specially designed by providence to annihilate the whole german army and open a clear path to an allied march all the way to berlin! then silence came--a silence that seemed to brood over the scene of hostilities as might a sea fog drifting in along the coast and baffling the most skillful of flyers. jack had discovered a stick that was some three feet in length and remembering an old and often tried trick known to frontiersmen away back in the kentucky days of daniel boone, he meant to try it out in order to see if the ammunition of the besieged man had run out on him or not--something that was really essential he should know before proceeding to extremes and breaking into the fortress that was holding himself and perk so persistently at bay. removing his leather cap with its dangling earlaps, he perched it on the point of his stick and proceeded to elevate the contrivance so that it might be seen by the vigilant eyes within. the result was all that he could have asked, showing that this venerable indian trick was just as workable as in the days of old. a single shot sounded dully within the shack--there was a tinkling sound as if a speeding bullet had bored a hole through a pane of glass and down fell his helmet. jack picked it up and chuckled to find he could poke an investigating finger through a hole that had certainly not been there before. what great luck his head had not been inside that helmet, he was telling himself on thus learning the wonderful accuracy of the marksman. things were again at a standstill, for as long as the half demented kearns was able to make such excellent use of his firearm it would be suicide for either of them to try and break into the shack. one thing jack had managed to discover with that brief peep back of the friendly bunch of orange leaves--there was a little heap of papers in the fireplace, also the precious book he yearned to possess--yes, and he could even make out a smudge as though a match had been used to start a conflagration but owing to some puff of contrary air the blaze had fizzled and gone out--an especially providential favor in their behalf jack had told himself. still, at any moment now the man with the crooked mind was apt to notice how his purpose had been baffled. then he would make a second and possibly more successful attempt to destroy all incriminating evidence as to his connection with the smuggling of rum, aliens and precious stones into the country, contrary to the laws of the land. what could he do should this crisis come upon him, jack was asking himself as he crouched there and counted the minutes passing by? there was only one means for counteracting such a move on the part of the enemy and jack had already convinced himself the occasion was fully ripe for it to be tried out. on a previous occasion the same thing had handily proved its efficacy, so why not again? desperate cases require desperate remedies, he kept telling himself as he groped in his pocket and extracted some small object therefrom, holding it tightly clinched while he again moved the orange leaves across the lower part of the window without extracting a shot from the guardian of the shack. then he nerved himself to take a look and received a shock for he was just in time to see kearns down on his knees striking a match which he hastened to apply to the crumpled papers. seeing there was not a second to waste, jack proceeded to hurl the tear-bomb he had been holding in his fist straight through the glass, so as to strike against the stone chimney and be shattered, releasing its powerful contents that would almost instantly fill the room and blind the man whose fingers held the burning match. chapter xxx fetching in their man there was now no further need for caution. jack saw the man inside stagger to his feet, drop his gun and throw both hands up to his face--he was starting to rub his eyes as though they had already commenced to feel the terrible effect of the pungent acid that would start the tears flowing in streams and render him temporarily blind before he could exercise his brain sufficiently to unbar the door and rush outside. but already that tiny blaze on the open hearth was increasing, and would presently gain such headway as to threaten the utter destruction of the precious papers that they had come so far and braved all sorts of dangers to get. something must be done instantly in order to prevent this threatening catastrophe. so jack, always quick to act, with one smashing blow sent the entire window sash flying into the room. he did not even stop to learn whether he had cut himself, but gave an upward spring, gained a precarious knee-hold on the window-sill and allowed himself to fall inside the room with its unseen gas contents which would of necessity act upon his eyes even as it already had done in the case of his intended prey. across to the fireplace went jack--he could never tell just how he made that trip of a dozen feet with his sight already growing dim and his senses commencing to reel, but he knew that he started to stamp out every atom of those greedy flames, working like one possessed. then he clutched the reeling man by the arm and dragged him across to the window and bundled him out with as little ceremony as if he had been a sack of oats. blinded himself by this time and hardly knowing what he was doing, jack managed to climb through the opening and drop down on top of the writhing figure on the ground. here perk found them both as he came full tilt around the corner, realizing something not down on the bills as far as his knowledge went, must have taken place. "jack--what's happened--are you bad hurt, buddy?" perk demanded excitedly as he bent down over his chum. "all right--only had to use the tear-gas again--be better right off--don't let kearns get away on your life!" "hot ziggetty! you jest bet i won't old hoss!" whooped the delighted perk as he squatted alongside the still writhing oswald, his automatic held in readiness only waiting for jack to recover enough to take things in charge. "look in the room--see if the papers are safe--in the fireplace--he started to burn the whole batch and beat us to the scratch--had to give him the whole works to save 'em!" thus enlightened, perk stood up and took a look then burst out in a joyous shout that would have done credit to any cow-puncher on earth. "it's all dandy, jack--papers safe an' we got our man ditto. mebbe now i'll soon get a chance to treat my tummy to some decent grub, 'cause my ribs're stickin' to my backbone, i'm that empty." before long jack's eyes ceased to sting and his vision once more became almost normal. by then, too, kearns had come to his senses, with perk keeping him subdued by means of prodding a weapon in his ribs. jack hunted around and found some rope with which they temporarily bound the arms and ankles of their prisoner. that accomplished he made haste to secure all the papers as well as the ledger which kearns had been so eager to destroy when realizing that at last his scorn for the minions of the law had reaped its inevitable result--the pitcher gone once too often to the well--and that his game was up. "what next, boss?" perk was asking, "mean to kidnap both o' these guys jack?" "it'll make our chances better with one showing a yellow streak and turning on his employer for state's evidence," was jack's quick rejoinder, the idea being quite to perk's liking as he speedily made manifest. "jumpin' jimcracks! we c'n tote the pair right nifty an' i'm meanin' to see that other guy gets all that's comin' to him, after that nasty crack on the coco he gimme with them irons. say jack, take a look at my head an' see if it's sound still--gee whiz! but it felt like the sky'd gone an' dropped down on me." jack speedily reassured him that although there was a lovely lump on the top of his head, it was nothing very serious. it was understood that there was not a minute to waste if they were wise. the lockheed-vega might blow in any time and give them trouble. "we'll get both the prisoners together and perk, you stand guard over them while i taxi our boat around here so as to save ourselves the job of moving them along the trail. is it all right with you, buddy?" "sure is," came the ready reply. "i'll start a little chin with our honorable guest here an' see how he likes the idee o' sittin' up next mr. philip ridgeway o' the treasury department an' findin' out that this time he's in the soup for keeps." already the prisoner had recovered his customary nerve for on hearing what perk was saying he broke out in a laugh. "looks a bit serious for me, i own up, boys," he said. "i give you credit for being ace high above all your class, for you've played a clever game and beat me by a mile. so that was tear-gas you tossed into the room, was it?--thought i recognized the smell and i want to tell you, once that hits a chap's eyes and he doesn't care if a church steeple topples down on him, he's that paralyzed." jack lost no time in starting back to where the ship was hidden and having negotiated the distance along the perilous trail without running afoul of anything, he managed to toss the palmetto leaves overboard since there was no further necessity for camouflage. after coaxing his charge out of the narrow slip, and once on the open lake, he taxied down to the cove close to the coquina rock shack. they managed to lug their prisoners aboard and stowed them away as well as circumstances permitted. then jack gave her the gun and they were off. once they found themselves on their way at a three thousand-foot ceiling and headed almost due northwest with tampa as their goal, perk slapped his pal on the back and gave vent to his high spirits. "oh how joyful it does seem, partner," he was saying, "to be startin' on the home stretch with our game played to a finish, the ducks bagged an' nigh ready for the spit. somethin' to crow about this time, i guess boy. mebbe the big boss up at washington ain't goin' to be tickled pink when he gets the news an' knows we've grabbed oswald by the heels with evidence aplenty to send him to atlanta for a term o' years. this night flight promises to be the happiest ever for the pair o' us. i know i'm actin' like a loon, partner, but i jest can't help it--such bully occasions are too few an' far between in our line. an' now i wonder where we'll be sent for the next big job we tackle?" "we'll know all that soon enough perk," he was told by his comrade. "we deserve a little rest after this business is cleaned up, then we'll be ready to start out fresh and dandy, no matter if it takes us to the wild west this time." "huh! why not?" grunted perk with the air of one who was utterly indifferent as to whether he was given a mission that would take him to the other side of the world, as long as he had at his side the pal whom he loved so well and the backing of the government to stand for expenses. "we've worked the mexican border to the limit, have jest cleaned up the worst smugglin' bunch along the florida coast an' when the call comes for us to take a fling over the colorado canyon, or above the snow capped mountain ranges, it'll find us ready an' all to the good!" although at the time perk had not the slightest idea that he was posing as a prophet, it will be seen that such was the case as the title of the next story in this series will indicate, it being "_wings over the rockies; or jack ralston's new cloud-chaser._" the end every boy's mystery series air monster by edwin green "lines away!" this is a story of the world's greatest dirigible and of the dangers in the frozen wastes of the arctic--a combination sure to provide thrills for every reader. the _goliath_, largest dirigible in the world, is to meet the submarine _neptune_ at the north pole. the _neptune_ encounters one mishap after another in the drifting ice of the arctic and harry curtis, its radio operator, sends an s. o. s. to andy high, assistant commander of the _goliath_. the dirigible starts north, captain harkins, the commander. is stricken and andy takes charge of the rescue attempt. secret flight by edwin green andy high and his companions on the trail of new adventure in the mighty _goliath_ ... international intrigue and a world crisis form the background for this strong and stirring tale for air-minded boys. this book is a fitting sequel to that splendid book "air monster." extra by george morse baffling mystery, startling disappearances, roaring presses, the tenseness of the deadline hour on great newspapers--all these and more are in "extra." when the publisher of the _porter press_ disappears from an airplane while it is en route between two cities, don durian, young managing editor of the _press_, starts out to get the story and solve the mystery. thwarted at every turn, don and his staff are enveloped in an intrigue that threatens to destroy even their own paper. it's a mystery within a mystery and the solution is startling. circus dan by george morse call of the calliope.... clash of cymbals and flash of spangles under the big top. but back of the glitter is the rivalry of two big circuses.... a fortune hangs in the balance when young dan tierney, press agent for the great united, solves the mystery of the accidents which have threatened the existence of the big show. vanishing liner by george morse _the vanishing liner_ moves rapidly, abounds in pulse-quickening action, weaves the threads of half a dozen adventures through the luxurious cabins of the atlantica, and ends with a stirring climax of adventure on the high sea. the treasure hunt of the s- by graham m. dean graham m. dean, the author of the tim murphy series, received so many requests from his hundreds of thousands of readers, to take tim murphy on a "real treasure hunt," that in this book tim murphy is given the assignment by the editor of the "atkinson news" to accompany a treasure-hunting expedition headed by a world-famous globe trotter. this is an action story from start to finish--clean, fast, and inspiring. it is a different story and is bound to appeal, with all the resourcefulness of the now famous tim murphy tested to the utmost. the goldsmith publishing company, chicago vanishing liner by george morse high adventure on the north atlantic ... a mystery of ships that vanish in mid-ocean. the world is alarmed by the disappearance of ships in the north atlantic and the great northern transportation company, which has lost two vessels, is determined to solve the mystery. the great northern company has plans to build the two fastest liners afloat and a rival company is suspected of the mysterious attacks. in command of the expedition which sets out to solve the mystery is prof. randolph pearson, eminent scientist. he sets up a complete laboratory aboard the atlantica, crack liner of the great northern. with him are his assistants, bob ellis and glenn heath. their task is to stay aboard the liner on its transoceanic dashes for they are confident that an attempt will be made on the atlantica. _the vanishing liner_ moves rapidly, abounds in pulse-quickening action, weaves the threads of half a dozen adventures through the luxurious cabins of the atlantica, and ends with a stirring climax of adventure on the high sea. a rogue by compulsion an affair of the secret service by victor bridges with frontispiece by john h. cassel [illustration: "a curtain at the end of the room was drawn slowly aside, and there, standing in the gap, i saw the slim figure of a girl." chapter x. drawn by john h. cassel.] to that best of friends hughes massie contents chapter i. a bolt for freedom ii. a bicycle and some overalls iii. a dubious refuge iv. echoes of a famous case v. an offer without an alternative vi. the face of a stranger vii. a kiss and a confession viii. rt. hon. sir george frinton, p.c. ix. the man with the scar x. mademoiselle vivien, palmist xi. bridging three years of separation xii. a scribbled warning xiii. regarding mr. bruce latimer xiv. a summons from dr. mcmurtrie xv. a human "catch" xvi. confronting the intruder xvii. the workshop on the marshes xviii. a new clue to an old crime xix. launching a new invention xx. approaching a solution xxi. sonia's sudden visit xxii. the police take action xxiii. in the nick of time xxiv. exonerated xxv. a little family party chapter i a bolt for freedom most of the really important things in life--such as love and death--happen unexpectedly. i know that my escape from dartmoor did. we had just left the quarries--eighteen of us, all dressed in that depressing costume which king george provides for his less elusive subjects--and we were shambling sullenly back along the gloomy road which leads through the plantation to the prison. the time was about four o'clock on a dull march afternoon. in the roadway, on either side of us, tramped an armed warder, his carbine in his hand, his eyes travelling with dull suspicion up and down the gang. fifteen yards away, parallel with our route, the sombre figure of one of the civil guards kept pace with us through the trees. we were a cheery party! suddenly, without any warning, one of the warders turned faint. he dropped his carbine, and putting his hand to his head, stumbled heavily against the low wall that separated us from the wood. the clatter of his weapon, falling in the road, naturally brought all eyes round in that direction, and seeing what had happened the whole eighteen of us instinctively halted. the gruff voice of the other warder broke out at once, above the shuffling of feet: "what are you stopping for? get on there in front." from the corner of my eye i caught sight of the civil guard hurrying towards the prostrate figure by the wall; and then, just as the whole gang lurched forward again, the thing happened with beautiful abruptness. a broad, squat figure shot out suddenly from the head of the column, and, literally hurling itself over the wall, landed with a crash amongst the thick undergrowth. there was a second shout from the warder, followed almost instantly by a hoarse command to halt, as the civil guard jerked his carbine to his shoulder. the fugitive paid about as much attention to the order as a tiger would to a dog whistle. he was off again in an instant, bent almost double, and bursting through the tangled bushes with amazing swiftness. bang! the charge of buckshot whistled after him, spattering viciously through the twigs, and several of the bolder spirits in the gang at once raised a half-hearted cry of "murder!" "stop that!" bawled the warder angrily, and to enforce his words he quickened his steps so as to bring him in touch with the offenders. as he did so, i suddenly perceived with extraordinary clearness that i should never again get quite such a good chance to escape. the other men were momentarily between me and the warder, while the civil guard, his carbine empty, was plunging through the trees in pursuit of his wounded quarry. it was no time for hesitation, and in any case hesitation is not one of my besetting sins. i recollect taking one long, deep breath: then the next thing i remember is catching my toe on the top of the wall and coming the most unholy purler in the very centre of an exceptionally well armoured blackberry bush. this blunder probably saved my life: it certainly accounted for my escape. the warder who evidently had more nerve than i gave him credit for, must have fired at me from where he was, right between the heads of the other convicts. it was only my abrupt disappearance from the top of the wall that saved me from being filled up with lead. as it was, the charge whistled over me just as i fell, and a devilish unpleasant noise it made too. i didn't wait for him to reload. i was out of that bush and off up the hill in rather less time than it takes to read these words. where i was going i scarcely thought; my one idea was to put as big a distance as possible between myself and the carbine before its owner could ram home a second cartridge. as i ran, twisting in and out between the trees, and keeping my head as low as possible, i could hear behind me a hoarse uproar from my fellow-convicts, who by this time were evidently getting out of hand. no sound could have pleased me better. the more boisterous the good fellows became the less chance would the remaining warder have of worrying about me. as for the civil guard--well, it seemed probable that his time was already pretty fully engaged. my chief danger lay in the chance that there might be other warders in the immediate neighbourhood. if so, they would doubtless have heard the firing and have come running up at the first alarm. i looked back over my shoulder as i reached the top of the plantation, which was about a hundred yards from the road, but so far as i could see there was no one as yet on my track. my one chance lay in reaching the main wood that borders the tavistock road before the mounted guard could come up. between this and the plantation stretched a long bare slope of hillside, perhaps two hundred yards across, with scarcely enough cover on it to hide a rabbit. it was not exactly an inviting prospect, but still the place had to be crossed, and there was nothing to be gained by looking at it. so setting my teeth i jumped out from under the shelter of the trees, and started off as fast as i could pelt for the opposite side. i had got about half-way over when there came a sudden shout away to the right. turning my head as i ran, i saw through the thin mist a figure in knickerbockers and a norfolk jacket vaulting over the low gate that separated the moor from the road. i suppose he was a tourist, for he had a small knapsack fastened to his back and he was carrying a stick in his hand. "tally-ho!" he yelled, brandishing the latter, and then without hesitation he came charging across the open with the obvious intention of cutting me off from the wood. for the first time in three years i laughed. it was not a pretty laugh, and if my new friend had heard it, his ardour in the chase might perhaps have been a trifle cooled. as it was he came on with undiminished zest, apparently quite confident in his ability to tackle me single-handed. we met about ten yards this side of the nearest trees. he rushed in on me with another "whoop," and i saw then that he was a big, powerful, red-faced fellow of a rather coarse sporting type--the kind of brute i've always had a peculiar dislike for. "down you go!" he shouted, and suiting the action to the word, he swung back his stick and lashed out savagely at my head. i didn't go down. instead of that i stepped swiftly in, and striking up his arm with my left hand, i let him have my right bang on the point of the chin. worlds of concentrated bitterness were behind it, and he went over backwards as if he had been struck by a coal-hammer. it did me a lot of good, that punch. it seemed to restore my self-respect in a way that nothing else could have done. you must have been a convict yourself, shouted at and ordered about like a dog for three weary years, to appreciate the full pleasure of being able once more to punch a man in the jaw. at the moment, however, i had no time to analyze my feelings. almost before the red-faced gentleman's shoulders had struck the ground i had reached the railing which bounded the wood, and putting one hand on the top bar had vaulted over into its inviting gloom. then, just for an instant, i stopped, and, like lot's wife, cast one hasty glance behind me. except for the motionless form of my late adversary, who appeared to be studying the sky, the stretch of moor that i had just crossed was still comfortingly empty. so far no pursuing warder had even emerged from the plantation. with a sigh of relief i turned round again and plunged forward into the thickest part of the tangled brake ahead. it would have been difficult to find a better temporary hiding-place than the one i had reached. thick with trees and undergrowth, which sprouted up from between enormous fissures and piles of granite rock, it stretched away for the best part of a mile and a half parallel with the main road. i knew that even in daylight the warders would find it no easy matter to track me down: at this time in the afternoon, with dusk coming rapidly on, the task would be an almost impossible one. besides, it was starting to rain. all the afternoon a thick cloud had been hanging over north hessary, and now, as scratched and panting i forced my way on into the ever-increasing gloom, a fine drizzle began to descend through the trees. i knew what that meant. in half an hour everything would probably be blotted out in a wet grey mist, and, except for posting guards all round the wood, my pursuers would be compelled to abandon the search until next morning. it was the first time that i had ever felt an affection for the dartmoor climate. guessing rather than judging my way, i stumbled steadily forward until i reached what i imagined must be about the centre of the wood. by this time i was wet through to the skin. the thin parti-coloured "slop" that i was wearing was quite useless for keeping out the rain, a remark that applied with almost equal force to my prison-made breeches and gaiters. apart from the discomfort, however, i was not much disturbed. i have never been an easy victim to chills, and three years in princetown had done nothing to soften a naturally tough constitution. still there was no sense in getting more soaked than was necessary, so i began to hunt around for some sort of temporary shelter. i found it at last in the shape of a huge block of granite, half hidden by the brambles and stunted trees which had grown up round it. parting the undergrowth and crawling carefully in, i discovered at the base a kind of hollow crevice just long enough to lie down in at full length. i can't say it was exactly comfortable, but penal servitude has at least the merit of saving one from being over-luxurious. besides, i was much too interested in watching the steady thickening of the mist outside to worry myself about trifles. with a swiftness which would have been incredible to any one who didn't know the moor, the damp clammy vapour was settling down, blotting out everything in its grey haze. except for the dripping brambles immediately outside i could soon see absolutely nothing; beyond that it was like staring into a blanket. i lay there quite motionless, listening very intently for any sound of my pursuers. only the persistent drip, drip of the rain, however, and the occasional rustle of a bird, broke the silence. if there were any warders about they were evidently still some way from my hiding-place, but the odds were that they had postponed searching the wood until the fog lifted. for the first time since my leap from the wall i found myself with sufficient leisure to review the situation. it struck me that only a very hardened optimist could describe it as hopeful. i had made my bolt almost instinctively, without stopping to think what chances i had of getting away. that these were meagre in the extreme was now becoming painfully clear to me. even if i managed to slip out of my present hiding-place into the still larger woods of the walkham valley, the odds were all in favour of my ultimate capture. no escaped prisoner had ever yet succeeded in retaining his liberty for more than a few days, and where so many gentlemen of experience had tried and failed it seemed distressingly unlikely that i should be more fortunate. i began to wonder what had happened to cairns, the man whose dash from the ranks had been responsible for my own effort. i knew him to be one of the most resourceful blackguards in the prison, and, provided the civil guard's first shot had failed to stop him, it was quite likely that he too had evaded capture. i hoped so with all my heart: it would distract quite a lot of attention from my own humble affairs. if he was still at liberty, i couldn't help feeling enviously how much better his chances of escape were than mine. in order to get away from the moor it was plainly necessary to possess oneself of both food and clothes, and i could think of no other way of doing so except stealing them from some lonely farm. at anything of this sort i was likely to prove a sorry bungler compared with such an artist as cairns. he was one of the most accomplished cracksmen in england, and feats which seemed impossible to me would probably be the merest child's play to him. still it was no good worrying over what couldn't be helped. my first job was to get safely into the walkham woods; after that it would be quite time enough to think about turning burglar. i sat up and looked out into the mist. things were as bad as ever, and quite suddenly it struck me with considerable force that by lying low in this fashion i was making a most unholy idiot of myself. here i was growing cold and stiff, and wasting what was probably the best chance i should ever have of reaching walkhampton. in fact i was playing right into the hands of the warders. with an impatient exclamation i jumped to my feet. the only question was, could i find my way out of the wood, and if i did, how on earth was i to strike the right line over north hessary? it was quite on the cards i might wander back into princetown under the happy impression that i was going in exactly the opposite direction. for a moment i hesitated; then i made up my mind to risk it. after all the fog was as bad for the warders as it was for me, and even if i failed to reach the walkham valley i should probably find some other equally good shelter before it lifted. in either case i should have the big advantage of having changed my hiding-place. buttoning up my slop, i advanced carefully through the dripping brambles. one could see rather less than nothing, but so far as i could remember the main tavistock road was on my right-hand side. this would leave north hessary away to the left; so turning in that direction i set my teeth and took my first step forward into the darkness. i don't suppose you have ever tried walking through a wood in a fog, but you can take my word for it that a less enjoyable form of exercise doesn't exist. i have often wondered since how on earth i managed to escape a sprained ankle or a broken neck, for carefully as i groped my way forward it was quite impossible to avoid all the numerous crevices and overhanging boughs which beset my path. i must have blundered into about fourteen holes and knocked my head against at least an equal number of branches, before the trees at last began to thin and the darkness lighten sufficiently to let me see where i was placing my feet. i knew that by this time i must be getting precious near the boundary of the wood, outside which the warders were now doubtless posted at frequent intervals. so i stopped where i was and sat down quietly on a rock for a few minutes to recover my breath, for i had been pretty badly shaken and winded by my numerous tumbles. as soon as i felt better i got up again, and taking very particular care where i was treading, advanced on tiptoe with a delicacy that agag might have envied. i had taken about a dozen steps when all of a sudden the railings loomed up in front of me through the mist. i put my hand on the top bar, and then paused for a moment listening breathlessly for any sound of danger. except for the faint patter of the rain, however, everything was as silent as the dead. very carefully i raised myself on the bottom rail, lifted my legs over, one after the other, and then dropped lightly down on to the grass beyond. as i did so a man rose up suddenly from the ground like a black shadow, and hurling himself on me before i could move, clutched me round the waist. "got yer!" he roared. then at the top of his voice--"here he is! help! help!" chapter ii a bicycle and some overalls i was taken so utterly by surprise that nothing except sheer strength saved me from going over. as it was i staggered back a couple of paces, fetching up against the railings with a bang that nearly knocked the breath out of me. by a stroke of luck i must have crushed my opponent's hand against one of the bars, for with a cry of pain he momentarily slackened his grip. that was all i wanted. wrenching my left arm free, i brought up my elbow under his chin with a wicked jolt; and then, before he could recover, i smashed home a short right-arm punch that must have landed somewhere in the neighbourhood of his third waistcoat button. anyhow it did the business all right. with a quaint noise, like the gurgle of a half-empty bath, he promptly released me from his embrace, and sank down on to the grass almost as swiftly and silently as he had arisen. i doubt if a more perfectly timed blow has ever been delivered, but unfortunately i had no chance of studying its effects. through the fog i could hear the sound of footsteps--quick heavy footsteps hurrying towards me from either direction. for one second i thought of scrambling back over the railings and taking to the wood again. then suddenly a kind of mischievous exhilaration at the danger gripped hold of me, and jumping over the prostrate figure on the ground i bolted forwards into the mist. the warders, who must have been quite close, evidently heard me, for from both sides came hoarse shouts of "there he goes!" "look out there!" and other well-meant pieces of advice. it was a funny sort of sensation dodging through the fog, feeling that at any moment one might blunder up against the muzzle of a loaded carbine. the only guide i had as to my direction was the slope of the ground. i knew that as long as i kept on going uphill i was more or less on the right track, for the big granite-strewn bulk of north hessary lay right in front of me, and i had to cross it to get to the walkham valley. on i went, the ground rising higher and higher, until at last the wet slippery grass began to give way to a broken waste of rocks and heather. i had reached the top, and although i could see nothing on account of the mist, i knew that right below me lay the woods, with only about a mile of steeply sloping hillside separating me from their agreeable privacy. despite the cold and the wet and the fact that i was getting devilish hungry, my spirits somehow began to rise. good luck always acts on me as a sort of tonic, and so far i had certainly been amazingly lucky. i felt that if only the rain would clear up now and give me a chance of getting dry, fate would have treated me as handsomely as an escaped murderer had any right to expect. making my way carefully across the plateau, for the ground was stiff with small holes and gullies and i had no wish to sprain my ankle, i began the descent of the opposite side. the mist here was a good deal thinner, but night was coming on so rapidly that as far as seeing where i was going was concerned i was very little better off than i had been on the top of the hill. below me, away to the right, a blurred glimmer of light just made itself visible. this i took to be merivale village, on the tavistock road; and not being anxious to trespass upon its simple hospitality, i sheered off slightly in the opposite direction. at last, after about twenty minutes' scrambling, i began to hear a faint trickle of running water, and a few more steps brought me to the bank of the walkham. i stood there for a little while in the darkness, feeling a kind of tired elation at my achievement. my chances of escape might still be pretty thin, but i had at least reached a temporary shelter. for five miles away to my left stretched the pleasantly fertile valley, and until i chose to come out of it all the warders on dartmoor might hunt themselves black in the face without finding me. i can't say exactly how much farther i tramped that evening. when one is stumbling along at night through an exceedingly ill-kept wood in a state of hunger, dampness, and exhaustion, one's judgment of distance is apt to lose some of its finer accuracy. i imagine, however, that i must have covered at least three more miles before my desire to lie down and sleep became too poignant to be any longer resisted. i hunted about in the darkness until i discovered a small patch of fairly dry grass which had been more or less protected from the rain by an overhanging rock. i might perhaps have done better, but i was too tired to bother. i just dropped peacefully down where i stood, and in spite of my bruises and my soaked clothes i don't think i had been two minutes on the ground before i was fast asleep. * * * * * tommy morrison always used to say that only unintelligent people woke up feeling really well. if he was right i must have been in a singularly brilliant mood when i again opened my eyes. it was still fairly dark, with the raw, sour darkness of an early march morning, and all round me the invisible drip of the trees was as persistent as ever. very slowly and shakily i scrambled to my feet. my head ached savagely, i was chilled to the core, and every part of my body felt as if it had been trampled on by a powerful and rather ill-tempered mule. i was hungry too--lord, how hungry i was! breakfast in the prison is not exactly an appetizing meal, but at that moment the memory of its thin gruel and greasy cocoa and bread seemed to me beautiful beyond words. i looked round rather forlornly. as an unpromising field for foraging in, a dartmoor wood on a dark march morning takes a lot of beating. it is true that there was plenty of water--the whole ground and air reeked with it--but water, even in unlimited quantities, is a poor basis for prolonged exertion. there was nothing else to be got, however, so i had to make the best of it. i lay down full length beside a small spring which gurgled along the ground at my feet, and with the aid of my hands lapped up about a pint and a half. when i had finished, apart from the ache in my limbs i felt distinctly better. the question was what to do next. hungry or not, it would be madness to leave the shelter of the woods until evening, for not only would the warders be all over the place, but by this time everyone who lived in the neighbourhood would have been warned of my escape. my best chance seemed to lie in stopping where i was as long as daylight lasted, and then staking everything on a successful burglary. it was not a cheerful prospect, and before the morning was much older it seemed less cheerful still. if you can imagine what it feels like to spend hour after hour crouching in the heart of a wood in a pitiless drizzle of rain, you will be able to get some idea of what i went through. if i had only had a pipe and some baccy, things would have been more tolerable; as it was there was nothing to do but to sit and shiver and grind my teeth and think about george. i thought quite a lot about george. i seemed to see his face as he read the news of my escape, and i could picture the feverish way in which he would turn to each edition of the paper to find out whether i had been recaptured. then i began to imagine our meeting, and george's expression when he realized who it was. the idea was so pleasing that it almost made me forget my present misery. it must have been about midday when i decided on a move. in a way i suppose it was a rash thing to do, but i had got so cursedly cramped and cold again that i felt if i didn't take some exercise i should never last out the day. even as it was, my legs had lost practically all feeling, and for the first few steps i took i was staggering about like a drunkard. keeping to the thickest part of the wood, i made my way slowly forward; my idea being to reach the top of the valley and then lie low again until nightfall. my progress was not exactly rapid, for after creeping a yard or two at a time i would crouch down and listen carefully for any sounds of danger. i had covered perhaps a mile in this spasmodic fashion when a gradual improvement in the light ahead told me that i was approaching open ground. a few steps farther, and through a gap in the trees a red roof suddenly came into view, with a couple of chimney-pots smoking away cheerfully in the rain. it gave me a bit of a start, for i had not expected to run into civilization quite so soon as this. i stopped where i was and did a little bit of rapid thinking. where there's a house there must necessarily be some way of getting at it, and the only way i could think of in this case was a private drive up the hill into the main devonport road. if there was such a drive the house was no doubt a private residence and a fairly large one at that. with infinite precaution i began to creep forward again. between the trunks of the trees i could catch glimpses of a stout wood paling about six feet high which apparently ran the whole length of the grounds, separating them from the wood. on the other side of this fence i could hear, as i drew nearer, a kind of splashing noise, and every now and then the sound of somebody moving about and whistling. the last few yards consisted of a strip of open grass marked by deep cart-ruts. across this i crawled on my hands and knees, and getting right up against the fence began very carefully to search around for a peep-hole. at last i found a tiny gap between two of the boards. it was the merest chink, but by gluing my eye to it i was just able to see through. i was looking into a square gravel-covered yard, in the centre of which a man in blue overalls was cleaning the mud off a small motor car. he was evidently the owner, for he was a prosperous, genial-looking person of the retired major type, and he was lightening his somewhat damp task by puffing away steadily at a pipe. i watched him with a kind of bitter jealousy. i had no idea who he was, but for the moment i hated him fiercely. why should he be able to potter around in that comfortable self-satisfied fashion, while i, neil lyndon, starved, soaked, and hunted like a wild beast, was crouching desperately outside his palings? it was a natural enough emotion, but i was in too critical a position to waste time in asking myself questions. i realized that if burglary had to be done, here was the right spot. by going farther i should only be running myself into unnecessary risk, and probably without finding a house any more suitable to my purpose. i squinted sideways through the hole, trying to master the geography of the place. on the left was a high bank of laurels, and just at the corner i could see the curve of the drive, turning away up the hill. on the other side of the yard was a small garage, built against the wall, while directly facing me was the back of the house. i was just digesting these details, when a sudden sigh from the gentleman in the yard attracted my attention. he had apparently had enough of cleaning the car, for laying down the cloth he had been using, he stepped back and began to contemplate his handiwork. it was not much to boast about, but it seemed to be good enough for him. at all events he came forward again, and taking off the brake, proceeded very slowly to push the car back towards the garage. at the entrance he stopped for a moment, and going inside brought out a bicycle which he leaned against the wall. then he laboriously shoved the car into its appointed place, put back the bicycle, and standing in the doorway started to take off his overalls. i need hardly say i watched him with absorbed interest. the sight of the bicycle had sent a little thrill of excitement tingling down my back, for it opened up possibilities in the way of escape that five minutes before had seemed wildly out of reach. if i could only steal the machine and the overalls as well, i should at least stand a good chance of getting clear away from the moor before i was starved or captured. in addition to that i should be richer by a costume which would completely cover up the tasteful but rather pronounced pattern of my clothes. my heart beat faster with excitement as with my eye pressed tight to the peep-hole i followed every movement of my unconscious quarry. whistling cheerfully to himself, he stripped off the dark blue cotton trousers and oil-stained jacket that he was wearing and hung them on a nail just inside the door. then he gave a last look round, presumably to satisfy himself that everything was in order, and shutting the door with a bang, turned the key in the lock. i naturally thought he was going to stuff that desirable object into his pocket, but as it happened he did nothing of the kind. with a throb of half-incredulous delight i saw that he was standing on tiptoe, inserting it into some small hiding-place just under the edge of the iron roof. i didn't wait for further information. at any moment someone might have come blundering round the corner of the paling, and i felt that i had tempted fate quite enough already. so, abandoning my peep-hole, i turned round, and with infinite care crawled back across the grass into the shelter of the trees. once there, however, i rolled over on the ground and metaphorically hugged myself. the situation may not appear to have warranted such excessive rapture, but when a man is practically hopeless even the wildest of possible chances comes to him like music and sunshine. forgetting my hunger and my wet clothes in my excitement, i lay there thinking out my plan of action. i could do nothing, of course, until it was dark: in fact it would be really better to wait till the household had gone to bed, for several of the back windows looked right out on the garage. then, provided i could climb the paling and get out the bicycle without being spotted, i had only to push it up the drive to find myself on the devonport road. with this comforting reflection i settled myself down to wait. it was at least four hours from darkness, with another four to be added to that before i dared make a move. looking back now, i sometimes wonder how i managed to stick it out. long before dusk my legs and arms had begun to ache again with a dull throbbing sort of pain that got steadily worse, while the chill of my wet clothes seemed to eat into my bones. once or twice i got up and crawled a few yards backwards and forwards, but the little additional warmth this performance gave me did not last long. i dared not indulge in any more violent exercise for fear that there might be warders about in the wood. what really saved me, i think, was the rain stopping. it came to an end quite suddenly, in the usual dartmoor fashion, and within half an hour most of the mist had cleared off too. i knew enough of the local weather signs to be pretty certain that we were in for a fine night; and sure enough, half an hour after the sun had set a large moon was shining down from a practically cloudless sky. from where i was lying i could, by raising my head, just see the two top windows of the house. about ten, as near as i could judge, somebody lit a candle in one of these rooms, and then coming to the window drew down the blind. i waited patiently till i saw this dull glimmer of light disappear, then, with a not unpleasant throb of excitement, i crawled out from my hiding-place and recrossed the grass to my former point of observation. very gingerly i lifted myself up and peered over the top of the paling. the yard was in shadow, and so far as i could see the back door and all the various outbuildings were locked up for the night. under ordinary circumstances i could have cleared that blessed paling in about thirty seconds, but in my present state of exhaustion it proved to be no easy matter. however, with a mighty effort i at last succeeded in getting my right elbow on the top, and from that point i managed to scramble up and hoist myself over. then, keeping a watchful eye on the windows, i advanced towards the garage. i found the key first shot. it was resting on a little ledge under the roof, and a thrill of joy went through me as my fingers closed over it. i pushed it into the keyhole, and very carefully i turned the lock. it was quite dark inside, but i could just see the outline of the overalls hanging on the nail. i unhooked them, and placing the coat on the ground i drew on the oily trousers over my convict breeches and stockings. i could tell by the feel that they covered me up completely. as i picked up the coat something rattled in one of the side pockets. i put my hand in and pulled out a box of wax matches, which despite the dampness of the garment still seemed dry enough to strike. for a moment i hesitated, wondering whether i dared to light one. it was dangerous, especially if there happened to be a window looking out towards the house, but on the other hand i badly wanted a little illumination to see what i was doing. i decided to risk it, and closing the door, struck one against the wall. it flared up, and shading it with my hand i cast a hasty glance round the garage. the bicycle was leaning against a shelf just beyond me, and on a nail above it i saw an old disreputable-looking cap. i pounced on it joyfully, for it was the one thing i needed to complete my disguise. then, wheeling the bicycle past the car, i blew out the match and reopened the door. stepping as noiselessly as possible on the gravel, i pushed the bike across the yard. there was a large patch of moonlight between me and the end of the drive, and i went through it with a horrible feeling in the small of my back that at any moment someone might fling up a window and bawl out, "stop thief!" nothing of the kind occurred, however, and with a vast sense of thankfulness i gained the shelter of the laurels. the only thing that worried me was the thought that there might be a lodge at the top. if so i was by no means out of the wood. even the most guileless of lodge-keepers would be bound to think it rather curious that i should be creeping out at this time of night accompanied by his master's bicycle. keeping one hand against the bushes to guide me, and pushing the machine with the other, i groped my way slowly up the winding path. as i came cautiously round the last corner i saw with a sigh of relief that my fears were groundless. a few yards ahead of me in the moonlight was a plain white gate, and beyond that the road. i opened the gate with deliberate care, and closed it in similar fashion behind me. then for a moment i stopped. i was badly out of breath, partly from weakness and partly from excitement, so laying the machine against the bank i leaned back beside it. everything was quite still. on each side of me the broad, white, moonlit roadway stretched away into the night, flanked by a row of telegraph poles which stood out like gaunt sentries. it was curious to think that they had probably put in a busy day's work, carrying messages about me. there was a lamp on the front bracket, and as soon as i felt a little better i took out my matches and proceeded to light it. then, wheeling my bike out into the roadway, i turned in the direction of devonport and mounted. i felt a bit shaky at first, for, apart from the fact that i was worn out and pretty near starving, i had not been on a machine for over three years. however, after wobbling wildly from side to side, i managed to get the thing going, and pedalled off down the centre of the road as steadily as my half-numbed senses would allow. for perhaps a quarter of a mile the ground kept fairly level, then, breasting a slight rise, i found myself at the top of a hill. i shoved on the brake and went slowly round the first corner, where i got an unexpected surprise. from this point the road ran straight away down through a small village, across a bridge over the river, and up a short steep slope on the farther side. i took in the situation at a glance, and, releasing my brake, i let the old bike have her head. it certainly wouldn't suit me to have to dismount in the village and walk up the opposite slope, and i was much too exhausted to do anything else unless i could take it in a rush. down i went, the machine flying noiselessly along and gathering pace every yard. i had nearly reached the bottom and was just getting ready to pedal, when all of a sudden, i caught sight of something that almost paralyzed me. right ahead, in the centre of the village square, stood a prison warder. his back was towards me and i could see the moonlight gleaming on the barrel of his carbine. chapter iii a dubious refuge i was going so fast that everything seemed to happen simultaneously. i had one blurred vision of him spinning round and yelling to me to stop: then the next moment i had flashed past him and was racing across the bridge. whether he recognized me for certain i can't say. i think not, or he would probably have fired sooner than he did: as it was, my rush had carried me three quarters of the way up the opposite hill before he could make up his mind to risk a shot. bang went his carbine, and at the same instant, with a second loud report, the tire of my back wheel abruptly collapsed. it was a good shot if he had aimed for it, and what's more it came unpleasantly near doing the trick. the old bike swerved violently, but with a wild wrench i just succeeded in righting her. for a second i heard him shouting and running behind me, and then, working like a maniac, i bumped up the rest of the slope, and disappeared over the protecting dip at the top. of my progress for the next mile or so i have only the most confused recollection. it was like one of those ghastly things that occasionally happen to one in a nightmare. i just remember pedalling blindly along, with the back wheel grinding and jolting beneath me and the moonlit road rising and falling ahead. it must have been more instinct than anything else that kept me going, for i was in the last stages of hunger and weariness, and most of the time i scarcely knew what i was doing. at last, after wobbling feebly up a long slope, i found i had reached the extreme edge of the moor. right below me the road dropped down for several hundred feet into a broad level expanse of fields and woods. six or seven miles away the lights of plymouth and devonport threw up a yellow glare into the sky, and beyond that again i could just see the glint of the moonlight shining on the sea. it was no good stopping, for i knew that in an hour or so the mounted warders would be again on my track. so clapping on both brakes, i started off down the long descent, being careful not to let the machine get away with me as it had done on the previous hill. at the bottom, which i somehow reached in safety, i found a sign-post with two hands, one marked plymouth and the other devonport. i took the latter road, why i can hardly say, and summoning up my almost spent energies i pedalled off shakily between its high hedges. how i got as far as i did remains a mystery to me to this day. i fell off twice from sheer weakness, but on each occasion i managed to drag myself back into the saddle again, and it was not until my third tumble, that i decided i could go no farther. i was in a dark stretch of road bounded on each side by thick plantations. it was a good place to lie up in, but unfortunately there was another and more pressing problem in front of me. half delirious as i was, i realized that unless i could find something to eat that night my career as an escaped convict was pretty near its end. i picked myself up, and with a great effort managed to drag the bicycle to the side of the road. then, clutching the rail that bounded the plantation, i began to stagger slowly forward along the slightly raised path. i think i had a sort of vague notion that there might be something to eat round the next corner. i had progressed in this fashion for perhaps forty yards, when quite unexpectedly both the trees and the railings came to an end. i remained swaying and half incredulous for a moment: then i began to realize that i was standing in front of an open gate looking up an exceedingly ill-kept drive. at the end of this drive was a house, and the moonlight shining full on the front of it showed me that the whole place had about as forlorn and neglected an appearance as an inhabited building could very well possess. that it was inhabited there could be no doubt, for in the small glass square above the hall door i could see a feeble glimmer of light. no one could have called it an inviting-looking place, but then i wasn't exactly waiting for invitations where a chance of food was concerned. i just slipped in at the gate, and keeping well in the shadow of the bushes that bounded the drive, i crept slowly and unsteadily forward until i reached a point opposite the front door. i crouched there for a moment, peering up at the house. except for that flickering gas jet there was no sign of life anywhere; all the windows were shuttered or else in complete darkness. at first i had a wild idea of ringing the bell and pretending to be a starving tramp. then i remembered that my description had no doubt been circulated all round the neighbourhood, and that if there was any one in the place they would probably recognize me at once as the missing convict. this choked me off, for though as a rule i have no objection to a slight scuffle, i felt that in my present condition the average housemaid could knock me over with the flick of a duster. the only alternative scheme that suggested itself to my numbed mind was to commit another burglary. there was a path running down the side of the house, which apparently led round to the back, and it struck me that if i followed this i might possibly come across an unfastened window. anyhow, it was no good waiting about till i collapsed from exhaustion, so, getting on my feet, i slunk along the laurels as far as the end of the drive, and then crept across in the shadow of an overhanging tree. i made my way slowly down the path, keeping one hand against the wall, and came out into a small square yard, paved with cobbles, where i found myself looking up at the back of the house. there was a door in the middle with two windows on either side of it, and above these several other rooms--all apparently in complete darkness. i was beginning to feel horribly like fainting, but by sheer will-power i managed to pull myself together. going up to the nearest window i peered through the pane. i could see the dim outline of a table with some plates on it just inside, and putting my hand against the bottom sash i gave it a gentle push. it yielded instantly, sliding up several inches with a wheezy rattle that brought my heart into my mouth. for a moment or two i waited, listening intently for any sound of movement within the house. then, as nothing happened, i carefully raised the sash a little higher, and poked my head in through the empty window-frame. it was the kitchen all right: there could be no doubt about that. a strong smell of stale cooking pervaded the warm darkness, and that musty odour brought tears of joy into my eyes. i took one long luxurious sniff, and then with a last effort i hoisted myself up and scrambled in over the low sill. as my feet touched the floor there was a sharp click. a blinding flash of light shot out from the darkness, striking me full in the face, and at the same instant a voice remarked quietly but firmly: "put up your hands." i put them up. there was a short pause: then from the other end of the room a man in a dressing-gown advanced slowly to the table in the centre. he was holding a small electric torch in one hand and a revolver in the other. he laid down the former with the light still pointing straight at my face. "if you attempt to move," he remarked pleasantly, "i shall blow your brains out." with this he walked to the side of the room, struck a match against the wall, and reaching up turned on the gas. i was much too dazed to do anything, even if i had had the chance. i just stood there with my hands up, rocking slightly from side to side, and wondering how long it would be before i tumbled over. my captor remained for a moment under the light, peering at me in silence. he seemed to be a man of about sixty--a thin, frail man with white hair and a sharp, deeply lined face. he wore gold-rimmed pince-nez, behind which a pair of hard grey eyes gleamed at me in malicious amusement. at last he took a step forward, still holding the revolver in his hand. "a stranger!" he observed. "dear me--what a disappointment! i hope mr. latimer is not ill?" i had no idea what he was talking about, but his voice sounded very far away. "if you keep me standing like this much longer," i managed to jerk out, "i shall most certainly faint." i saw him raise his eyebrows in a sort of half-mocking smile. "indeed," he said, "i thought--" what he thought i never heard, for the whole room suddenly went dim, and with a quick lurch the floor seemed to get up and spin round beneath my feet. i suppose i must have pitched forward, for the last thing i remember is clutching wildly but vainly at the corner of the kitchen table. * * * * * my first sensation on coming round was a burning feeling in my lips and throat. then i suddenly realized that my mouth was full of brandy, and with a surprised gulp i swallowed it down and opened my eyes. i was lying back in a low chair with a cushion under my head. standing in front of me was the gentleman in the dressing-gown, only instead of a revolver he now held an empty wine-glass in his hand. when he saw that i was recovering he stepped back and placed it on the table. there was a short pause. "well, mr. lyndon," he said slowly, "and how are you feeling now?" a hasty glance down showed me that the jacket of my overalls had been unbuttoned at the neck, exposing the soaked and mud-stained prison clothes beneath. i saw that the game was up, but for the moment i was too exhausted to care. my captor leaned against the end of the table watching me closely. "are you feeling any better?" he repeated. i made a feeble attempt to raise myself in the chair. "i don't know," i said weakly; "i'm feeling devilish hungry." he stepped forward at once, his lined face breaking into something like a smile. "don't sit up. lie quite still where you are, and i will get you something to eat. have you had any food today?" i shook my head. "only rain-water," i said. "you had better start with some bread and milk, then. you have been starving too long to eat a big meal straight away." crossing the room, he pushed open a door which apparently led into the larder, and then paused for a moment on the threshold. "you needn't try to escape," he added, turning back to me. "i am not going to send for the police." "i don't care what you do," i whispered, "as long as you hurry up with some grub." lying there in the sort of semi-stupor that comes from utter exhaustion, i listened to him moving about in the larder apparently getting things ready. for the moment all thoughts of danger or recapture had ceased to disturb me. even the unexpected fashion in which i was being treated did not strike me as particularly interesting or surprising: my whole being was steeped in a sense of approaching food. i saw him re-enter the room, carrying a saucepan, which he placed on a small stove alongside the fireplace. there was the scratching of a match followed by the pop of a gas-ring, and half-closing my eyes i lay back in serene and silent contentment. i was aroused by the chink of a spoon, and the splash of something liquid being poured out. then i saw my host coming towards me, carrying a large steaming china bowl in his hand. "here you are," he said. "do you think you can manage to feed yourself?" i didn't trouble to answer. i just seized the cup and spoon, and the next moment i was wolfing down a huge mouthful of warm bread and milk that seemed to me the most perfect thing i had ever tasted. it was followed rapidly by another and another, all equally beautiful. my host stood by watching me with a sort of half-amused interest. "i shouldn't eat it quite so fast," he observed. "it will do you more good if you take it slowly." the first few spoonfuls had already partly deadened my worst pangs, so following his advice i slackened down the pace to a somewhat more normal level. even then i emptied the bowl in what i think must have been a record time, and with a deep sigh i handed it to him to replenish. i was feeling better--distinctly better. the food, the rest in the chair, and the comparative warmth of the room were all doing me good in their various ways, and for the first time i was beginning to realize clearly where i was and what had happened. i suppose my host noticed the change, for he looked at me in an approving fashion as he gave me my second helping. "there you are," he said in that curious dry voice of his. "eat that up, and then we'll have a little conversation. meanwhile--" he paused and looked round--"well, if you have no objection i think i will shut that window. i daresay you have had enough fresh air for today." i nodded--my mouth was too full for any more elaborate reply--and crossing the room he closed the sash and pulled down the blind. "that's better," he observed, gently rubbing his hands together; "now we are more comfortable and more private. by the way, i don't think i have introduced myself yet. my name is mcmurtrie--doctor mcmurtrie." "i am charmed to meet you," i said, swallowing down a large chunk of bread. he nodded his head, smiling. "the pleasure is a mutual one, mr. lyndon--quite a mutual one." the words were simple and smooth enough in themselves, but somehow or other the tone in which they were uttered was not altogether to my taste. it seemed to carry with it the faint suggestion of a cat purring over a mouse. still i was hardly in a position to be too fastidious, so i accepted his compliment, and went on calmly with my bread and milk. with the same rather catlike smile dr. mcmurtrie drew up a chair and sat down opposite to me. he kept his right hand in his pocket, presumably on the revolver. "and now," he said, "perhaps you have sufficiently recovered to be able to tell me a little about yourself. at present my knowledge of your adventures is confined to the account of your escape in this morning's _daily mail_." i slowly finished the last spoonful of my second helping, and placed the cup beside me on the floor. it was a clumsy device to gain time, for now that the full consciousness of my surroundings had returned to me, i was beginning to think that dr. mcmurtrie's methods of receiving an escaped convict were, to say the least, a trifle unusual. was his apparent friendliness merely a blind, or did it hide some still deeper purpose, of which at present i knew nothing? he must have guessed my thoughts, for leaning back in his chair he remarked half-mockingly: "come, mr. lyndon, it doesn't pay to be too suspicious. if it will relieve your mind, i can assure you i have no immediate intention of turning policeman, even for the magnificent sum of--how much is it--five pounds, i believe? on mere business grounds i think it would be underrating your market value." the slight but distinct change in his voice in the last remark invested it with a special significance. i felt a sudden conviction that for some reason of his own dr. mcmurtrie did not intend to give me up--at all events for the present. "i will tell you anything you want to know with pleasure," i said. "where did the _daily mail_ leave off?" he laughed curtly, and thrusting the other hand into his pocket pulled out a silver cigarette-case. "if i remember rightly," he said, "you had just taken advantage of the fog to commit a brutal and quite unprovoked assault upon a warder." he held out the case. "but try one of these before you start," he added. "they are a special brand from st. petersburg, and i think you will enjoy them. there is nothing like a little abstinence to make one appreciate a good tobacco." with a shaking hand i pressed the spring. it was three years since i had smoked my last cigarette--a cigarette handed me by the inspector in that stuffy little room below the dock, where i was waiting to be sentenced to death. if i live to be a hundred i shall never forget my sensations as i struck the match which my host handed me and took in that first fragrant mouthful. it was so delicious that for a moment i remained motionless from sheer pleasure; then lying back again in my chair with a little gasp i drew another great cloud of smoke deep down into my lungs. the doctor waited, watching me with a kind of cynical amusement. "don't hurry yourself, mr. lyndon," he observed, "pray don't hurry yourself. it is a pleasure to witness such appreciation." i took him at his word, and for perhaps a couple of minutes we sat there in silence while the blue wreaths of smoke slowly mounted and circled round us. then at last, with a delightful feeling of half-drugged contentment, i sat up and began my story. i told it him quite simply--making no attempt to conceal or exaggerate anything. i described how the idea of making a bolt had come suddenly into my mind, and how i had acted on it without reflection or hesitation. step by step i went quietly through my adventures, from the time when the fog had rolled down to the moment when, half fainting with hunger and exhaustion, i had climbed in through his kitchen window. leaning on the arm of his chair, he listened to me in silence. as far as any movement or change of expression was concerned a statue could scarcely have betrayed less interest, but all the time the steady gleam of his eyes never shifted from my face. when i had finished he remained there for several seconds in the same attitude. then at last he gave a short mirthless laugh. "it must be pleasant to be as strong as you are," he said. "i should have been dead long ago." i shrugged my shoulders. "well, i don't exactly feel like going to a dance," i answered. he got up and walked slowly as far as the window, where he turned round and stood staring at me thoughtfully. at last he appeared to make up his mind. "you had better go to bed," he said, "and we will talk things over in the morning. you are not fit for anything more tonight." "no, i'm not," i admitted frankly; "but before i go to bed i should like to feel a little more certain where i'm going to wake up." there was a faint sound outside and i saw him raise his head. it was the distant but unmistakable hum of a motor, drawing nearer and nearer every moment. for a few seconds we both stood there listening: then with a sudden shock i realized that the car had reached the house and was turning in at the drive. weak as i was i sprang from my chair, scarcely feeling the thrill of pain that ran through me at the effort. "by god!" i cried fiercely, "you've sold me!" he whipped out the revolver, pointing it full at my face. "sit down, you fool," he said. "it's not the police." chapter iv echoes of a famous case whatever my intentions may have been--and they were pretty venomous when i jumped up--the revolver was really an unnecessary precaution. directly i was on my feet i went as giddy as a kite, and it was only by clutching the chair that i saved myself from toppling over. i was evidently in a worse way than i imagined. lowering his weapon the doctor repeated his order. "sit down, man, sit down. no one means you any harm here." "who is it in the car?" i demanded, fighting hard against the accursed feeling of faintness that was again stealing through me. "they are friends of mine. they have nothing to do with the police. you will see in a minute." i sat down, more from necessity than by choice, and as i did so i heard the car draw up outside the back door. crossing to the window the doctor threw up the sash. "savaroff!" he called out. there came an answer in a man's voice which i was unable to catch. "come in here," went on mcmurtrie. "don't bother about the car." he turned back to me. "drink this," he added, pouring out some more brandy into the wine-glass. i gulped it down and lay back again in my chair, tingling all through. he took my wrist and felt my pulse for a moment. "i know you are feeling bad," he said, "but we'll get your wet clothes off and put you to bed in a minute. you will be a different man in the morning." "that will be very convenient," i observed faintly. there was a noise of footsteps outside, the handle of the door turned, and a man--a huge bear of a man in a long astrachan coat--strode heavily into the room. he was followed by a girl whose face was almost hidden behind a partly-turned-back motor veil. when they caught sight of me they both stopped abruptly. "who's this?" demanded the man. dr. mcmurtrie made a graceful gesture towards me with his hand. "allow me," he said, "to introduce you. monsieur and mademoiselle savaroff--our distinguished and much-sought-after friend mr. neil lyndon." the big man gave a violent start, and with a little exclamation the girl stepped forward, turning back her veil. i saw then that she was remarkably handsome, in a dark, rather sullen-looking sort of way. "you will excuse my getting up," i said weakly. "it doesn't seem to agree with me." "mr. lyndon," explained the doctor, "is fatigued. i was just proposing that he should go to bed when i heard the car." "how in the name of satan did he get here?" demanded the other man, still staring at me in obvious amazement. "he came in through the window with the intention of borrowing a little food. i had happened to see him in the garden, and being under the natural impression that he was--er--well, another friend of ours, i ventured to detain him." savaroff gave a short laugh. "but it's incredible," he muttered. the girl was watching me curiously. "poor man," she exclaimed, "he must be starving!" "my dear sonia," said mcmurtrie, "you reflect upon my hospitality. mr. lyndon has been faring sumptuously on bread and milk." "but he looks so wet and ill." "he is wet and ill," rejoined the doctor agreeably. "that is just the reason why i am going to ask you to heat some water and light a fire in the spare bedroom. we don't want to disturb mrs. weston at this time of night. i suppose the bed is made up?" sonia nodded. "i think so. i'll go up and see anyhow." with a last glance at me she left the room, and savaroff, taking off his coat, threw it across the back of a chair. then he came up to where i was sitting. "you don't look much like your pictures, my friend," he said, unwinding the scarf that he was wearing round his neck. "under the circumstances," i replied, "that's just as well." he laughed again, showing a set of strong white teeth. "yes, yes. but the clothes and the short hair--eh? they would take a lot of explaining away. it was fortunate for you you chose this house--very fortunate. you find yourself amongst friends here." i nodded. i didn't like the man--there was too great a suggestion of the bully about him, but for all that i preferred him to mcmurtrie. it was the latter who interrupted. "come, savaroff, you take mr. lyndon's other arm and we'll help him upstairs. it is quite time he got out of those wet things." with their joint assistance i hoisted myself out of the chair and, leaning heavily on the pair of them, hobbled across to the door. every step i took sent a thrill of pain through me, for i was as stiff and sore as though i had been beaten all over with a walking-stick. the stairs were a bit of a job too, but they managed to get me up somehow or other, and i found myself in a large sparsely furnished hall lit by one ill-burning gas jet. there was a door half open on the left, and through the vacant space i could see the flicker of a freshly lighted fire. they helped me inside, where we found the girl sonia standing beside a long yellow bath-tub which she had set out on a blanket. "i thought mr. lyndon might like a hot bath," she said. "it won't take very long to warm up the water." "like it!" i echoed gratefully; and then, finding no other words to express my emotions, i sank down in an easy chair which had been pushed in front of the fire. i think the brandy that mcmurtrie had given me must have gone to my head, or perhaps it was merely the sudden sense of warmth and comfort coming on top of my utter fatigue. anyhow i know i fell gradually into a sort of blissful trance, in which things happened to me very much as they do in a dream. i have a dim recollection of being helped to pull off my soaked and filthy clothes, and later on of lying back with indescribable felicity in a heavenly tub of hot water. then i was in bed and somebody was rubbing me, rubbing me all over with some warm pungent stuff that seemed to take away the pain in my limbs and leave me just a tingling mass of drowsy contentment. after that--well, after that i suppose i fell asleep. * * * * * i base this last idea upon the fact that the next thing i remember is hearing some one say in a rather subdued voice: "don't wake him up. let him sleep as long as he likes--it's the best thing for him." whereupon, as was only natural, i promptly opened my eyes. dr. mcmurtrie and the dark girl were standing by my bedside, looking down at me. i blinked at them for a moment, wondering in my half-awake state where the devil i had got to. then suddenly it all came back to me. "well," said the doctor smoothly, "and how is the patient today?" i stretched myself with some care. i was still pretty stiff, and my throat felt as if some one had been scraping it with sand-paper, but all the same i knew that i was better--much better. "i don't think there's any serious damage," i said hoarsely. "how long have i been asleep?" he looked at his watch. "as far as i remember, you went to sleep in your bath soon after midnight. it's now four o'clock in the afternoon." i started up in bed. "four o'clock!" i exclaimed. "good lord! i must get up--i--" he laid his hand on my shoulder. "don't be foolish, my friend," he said. "you will get up when you are fit to get up. at the present moment you are going to have something to eat." he turned to the girl. "what are you thinking of giving him?" he asked. "there are plenty of eggs," she said, "and there's some of that fish we had for breakfast." she answered curtly, almost rudely, looking at me while she spoke. her manner gave me the impression that for some reason or other she and mcmurtrie were not exactly on the best of terms. if that was so, he himself betrayed no sign of it. "either will do excellently," he said in his usual suave way, "or perhaps our young friend could manage both. i believe the dartmoor air is most stimulating." "i shall be vastly grateful for anything," i said, addressing the girl. "whatever is the least trouble to cook." she nodded and left the room without further remark--mcmurtrie looking after her with what seemed like a faint gleam of malicious amusement. "i have brought you yesterday's _daily mail_," he said; "i thought it would amuse you to read the description of your escape. it is quite entertaining; and besides that there is a masterly little summary of your distinguished career prior to its unfortunate interruption." he laid the paper on the bed. "first of all, though," he added, "i will just look you over. i couldn't find much the matter with you last night, but we may as well make certain." he made a short examination of my throat, and then, after feeling my pulse, tapped me vigorously all over the chest. "well," he said finally, "you have been through enough to kill two ordinary men, but except for giving you a slight cold in the head it seems to have done you good." i sat up in bed. "dr. mcmurtrie," i said bluntly, "what does all this mean? who are you, and why are you hiding me from the police?" he looked down on me, with that curious baffling smile of his. "a natural and healthy curiosity, mr. lyndon," he said drily. "i hope to satisfy it after you have had something to eat. till then--" he shrugged his shoulders--"well, i think you will find the _daily mail_ excellent company." he left the room, closing the door behind him, and for a moment i lay there with an uncomfortable sense of being tangled up in some exceedingly mysterious adventure. even such unusual people as dr. mcmurtrie and his friends do not as a rule take in and shelter escaped convicts purely out of kindness of heart. there must be a strong motive for them to run such a risk in my case, but what that motive could possibly be was a matter which left me utterly puzzled. so far as i could remember i had never seen any of the three before in my life. i glanced round the room. it was a big airy apartment, with ugly old-fashioned furniture, and two windows, both of which looked out in the same direction. the pictures on the wall included an oleograph portrait of the late king edward in the costume of an admiral, a large engraving of mr. landseer's inevitable stag, and several coloured and illuminated texts. one of the latter struck me as being topical if a little inaccurate. it ran as follows: the wicked flee when no man pursueth over the mantelpiece was a mirror in a mahogany frame. i gazed at it idly for a second, and then a sudden impulse seized me to get up and see what i looked like. i turned back the clothes and crawled out of bed. i felt shaky when i stood up, but my legs seemed to bear me all right, and very carefully i made my way across to the fireplace. the first glance i took in the mirror gave me a shock that nearly knocked me over. a cropped head and three days' growth of beard will make an extraordinary difference in any one, but i would never have believed they could have transformed me into quite such an unholy-looking ruffian as the one i saw staring back at me out of the glass. if i had ever been conceited about my personal appearance, that moment would have cured me for good. satisfied with a fairly brief inspection i returned to the bed, and arranging the pillow so as to fit the small of my back, picked up the _daily mail_. i happened to open it at the centre page, and the big heavily leaded headlines caught my eyes straight away. escape of neil lyndon famous prisoner breaks out of dartmoor sensational case recalled with a pleasant feeling of anticipation i settled down to read. _from our own correspondent. princetown_. neil lyndon, perhaps the most famous convict at present serving his sentence, succeeded yesterday in escaping from princetown. at the moment of writing he is still at large. he formed one of a band of prisoners who were returning from the quarries late in the afternoon. as the men reached the road which leads through the plantation to the main gate of the prison, one of the warders in charge was overcome by an attack of faintness. in the ensuing confusion, a convict of the name of cairns, who was walking at the head of the gang, made a sudden bolt for freedom. he was immediately challenged and fired at by the civil guard. the shot took partial effect, but failed for the moment to stop the runaway, who succeeded in scrambling off into the wood. he was pursued by the civil guard, and it was at that moment that lyndon, who was in the rear of the gang, also made a dash for liberty. he seems to have jumped the low wall which bounds the plantation, and although fired at in turn by another of the warders, apparently escaped injury. running up the hill through the trees, he reached the open slope of moor on the farther side which divides the plantation from the main wood. while he was crossing this he was seen from the roadway by that well-known horse-dealer and pigeon-shot, mr. alfred smith of shepherd's bush, who happened to be on a walking tour in the district. mr. smith, with characteristic sportsmanship, made a plucky attempt to stop him; but lyndon, who had picked up a heavy stick in the plantation, dealt him a terrific blow on the head that temporarily stunned him. he then jumped the railings and took refuge in the wood. the pursuing warders came up a few minutes later, but by this time a heavy mist was beginning to settle down over the moor, rendering the prospect of a successful search more than doubtful. the warders therefore surrounded the wood with the idea of preventing lyndon's escape. taking advantage of the fog, however, the latter succeeded in slipping out on the opposite side. he was heard climbing the railings by assistant-warder conway, who immediately gave the alarm and closed with the fugitive. the other warders came running up, but just before they could reach the scene of the struggle lyndon managed to free himself by means of a brutal kick, and darting into the fog disappeared from sight. it is thought that he has made his way over north hessary and is lying up in the walkham woods. in any case it is practically certain that he will not be at liberty much longer. it is impossible for him to get food except by stealing it from a cottage or farm, and directly he shows himself he is bound to be recaptured. considerable excitement prevails in the district, where all the inhabitants are keenly on the alert. the marks murder echoes of a famous case the escape of neil lyndon recalls one of the most famous crimes of modern days. on the third of october four years ago, as most of our readers will remember, a gentleman named mr. seton marks was found brutally murdered in his luxurious flat on the chelsea embankment. it was thought at first that the crime was the work of burglars, for mr. marks's rooms contained many art treasures of considerable value. a further examination, however, revealed the fact that nothing had been tampered with, and the next day the whole country was startled and amazed to learn that neil lyndon had been arrested on suspicion. at the trial it was proved beyond question that the accused was the last person in the company of the murdered man. he had gone round to mr. marks's flat at four o'clock in the afternoon, and had apparently been admitted by the owner. two hours later mr. marks's servant returning to the flat was horrified to find his master's dead body lying in the sitting-room. death had been inflicted by means of a heavy blow on the back of the head, but the state of the dead man's face showed that he had been brutally mishandled before being killed. the accused, while maintaining his innocence of the murder, did not deny either his visit to the flat, or the fact that he had inflicted the other injuries on the deceased. he declined to state the cause of their quarrel, but the defending counsel produced a witness in the person of miss joyce aylmer, a young girl of sixteen, who was able to throw some light on the matter. miss aylmer, a young lady of considerable beauty, stated that for about a year she had been working as an art student in chelsea, and used occasionally to sit to artists for the head. on the afternoon before the murder she had had a professional engagement of this kind with mr. marks. there had been a visitor in the flat when she arrived, but he had left as soon as she came in. subsequently, according to her statement, the deceased had acted towards her in an outrageous and disgraceful manner. she had escaped from his flat with difficulty, and had subsequently informed mr. lyndon of what had taken place. in his re-examination, the accused admitted that it was on account of miss aylmer's statement he had visited the flat. up till then, he declared, he had had no quarrel with the deceased. this statement, however, was directly contradicted by lyndon's partner, mr. george marwood. giving his evidence with extreme reluctance, mr. marwood stated that for some time bad blood had undoubtedly existed between mr. marks and the accused. he added that in his own hearing on two separate occasions the latter had threatened to kill the deceased. pressed still further, he admitted meeting mr. lyndon in chelsea on the night of the murder, when the latter had to all intents and purposes acknowledged his guilt. on the evidence there could naturally be only one verdict, and lyndon was found guilty and sentenced to death by mr. justice owen. a tremendous agitation in favour of his reprieve broke out at once. apart from the peculiar circumstances under which the crime was committed, it was urged that mr. lyndon's services to the country as an inventor should be taken into consideration. within twenty-four hours over a million people had signed a petition in his favour, and the following day his majesty was pleased to commute the sentence to one of penal servitude for life. there is little doubt, however, that lyndon would have been released at the end of ten or twelve years. the escaped convict's career neil lyndon is the only son of the well-known explorer colonel grant lyndon, who perished on the upper amazon some fifteen years ago. he was educated at haileybury, and oriel college, oxford, where he took the highest honours in chemistry and mathematics. coming down, he entered into partnership with his cousin mr. george marwood, and between them the two young inventors met with early and remarkable success. their greatest achievement was of course the construction of the lyndon-marwood automatic torpedo, which was taken up four years ago, after exhaustive tests, by the british government. lyndon is a man of exceptionally powerful physique. he successfully represented oxford as a heavy-weight boxer in his last term, and the following year was runner up in the amateur championship. he is also a fine long-distance swimmer, and a well-known single-handed yachtsman. mr. george marwood, whose painful position in connection with the trial aroused considerable sympathy, has carried on the business alone since his partner's conviction. quite recently, as our readers will recall, he was the victim of a remarkable outrage at his offices in victoria street. while he was working there by himself late at night, a couple of masked men broke into the building, bound and gagged him, and proceeded to ransack the safe. it is said that they secured plans and documents of considerable value, but owing to the non-arrest of the thieves the exact details have never come to light. so ended the _daily mail_. i finished reading, and taking a long breath, laid down the paper. up till then i had heard nothing about the news contained in the last paragraph, and it sent my memory back at once to the big well-lighted room in victoria street where george and i had spent so many hours together. i wondered what the valuable "plans and documents" might be which the thieves were supposed to have secured. in my day we had always been pretty careful about what we left at the office, and any really important plans--such as those of the lyndon-marwood torpedo--were invariably kept at the safe deposit across the street. from george and the office my thoughts drifted away over the whole of that crowded time referred to in the paper. brief and bald as the narrative was, it brought up before me a dozen vivid memories, which jostled each other simultaneously in my mind. i saw again poor little joyce's tear-stained face, and remembered the shuddering relief with which she had clung to me as she sobbed out her story. i could recall the cold rage in which i had set out for marks's flat, and that first savage blow of mine that sent him reeling and crashing into one of his own cabinets. then i was in court again, and george was giving his evidence--the lying evidence that had been meant to send me to the gallows. i remembered the cleverly assumed reluctance with which he had apparently allowed his statements to be dragged from him, and my blood rose hot in my throat as i thought of his treachery. above all i seemed to see the fat red face of mr. justice owen, with the ridiculous little three-cornered black cap above it. he had been very cut up about sentencing me to death, had poor old owen, and i could almost hear the broken tones in which he had faltered out the words: "... taken from the place where you now stand to the place whence you came--hanged by the neck until your body be dead--and may god have mercy on your soul." at this cheerful point in my reminiscences i was suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. chapter v an offer without an alternative with a big effort i pulled myself together. "come in," i called out. the door opened, and the girl, sonia, entered the room. she was carrying a tray, which she set down on the top of the chest of drawers. "i don't know the least how to thank you for all this," i said. she turned round and looked at me curiously from under her dark eyebrows. "for all what?" she asked. "this," i repeated, waving my hand towards the tray, "and the hot bath last night, and incidentally my life. if it hadn't been for you and dr. mcmurtrie i think my 'career,' as the _daily mail_ calls it, would be pretty well finished by now." she stood where she was, her hand on her hip, her eyes fixed on my face. "do you know why we are helping you?" she asked. i shook my head. "i haven't the faintest notion," i answered frankly. "it certainly can't be on account of the charm of my appearance. i've just been looking at myself in the glass." she shrugged her shoulders half impatiently. "what does a man's appearance matter? you can't expect to break out of dartmoor in a frock-coat." "no," i replied gravely; "there must always be a certain lack of dignity about such a proceeding. still, when one looks like--well, like an escaped murderer, it's all the more surprising that one should be so hospitably received." she picked up the tray again, and brought it to my bedside. "oh!" she said; "i shouldn't build too much upon our hospitality if i were you." i took the tray from her hands. "i would build upon yours to any extent," i said; "but i am under no illusion whatever about dr. mcmurtrie's disinterestedness. he and your father--it is your father, isn't it?--are coming up to explain matters as soon as i have had something to eat." she stood silent for a moment, her brows knitted in a frown. "they mean you no harm," she said at last, "as long as you will do what they want." then she paused. "did you murder that man marks?" she asked abruptly. i swallowed down my first mouthful of fish. "no," i said; "i only knocked him about a bit. he wasn't worth murdering." she stared at me as if she was trying to read my thoughts. "is that true?" she said. "well," i replied, "he was alive enough when i left him, judging from his language." "then why did your partner--mr. marwood--why did he say that you had done it?" "that," i said softly, "is a little question which george and i have got to discuss together some day." she walked to the door and then turned. "if a man i had trusted and worked with behaved like that to me," she said slowly, "i should kill him." i nodded my approval of the sentiment. "i daresay it will come to that," i said; "the only thing is one gets rather tired of being sentenced to death." she gave me another long, curious glance out of those dark brown eyes of hers, and then going out, closed the door behind her. for an exceedingly busy and agreeable quarter of an hour i occupied myself with the contents of the tray. there was some very nicely grilled whiting, a really fresh boiled egg, a jar of honey, and a large plate of brown bread and butter cut in sturdy slices. best of all, on the edge of the tray were a couple of mcmurtrie's cigarettes. whether he or sonia was responsible for this last attention i could not say. i hoped it was sonia: somehow or other i did not want to be too much indebted to dr. mcmurtrie. i finished my meal--finished it in the most complete sense of the phrase--and then, putting down my tray on the floor, reverently lighted up. i found that my first essay in smoking on the previous evening had in no way dulled the freshness of my enjoyment, and for a few minutes i was content to lie there pleasantly indifferent to everything except the flavour of the tobacco. then my mind began to work. sonia's questions had once again started a train of thought which ever since the trial had been running through my brain with maddening persistence. if i had not killed marks, who had? how often had i asked myself that during the past three years, and how often had i abandoned the problem in utter weariness! sometimes, indeed, i had been almost tempted to think the jury must have been right--that i must have struck the brute on the back of the head without realizing in my anger what i was doing. then, when i remembered how i had left him crouching against the wall, spitting out curses at me through his cut and bleeding lips, i knew that the idea was nonsense. the wound which they found in his head must have killed him instantly. no man who had received a blow like that would ever speak or move again. the one thing i felt certain of was that in some mysterious way or other george was mixed up in the business. it was incredible that he could have acted as he did at the trial unless he had had some stronger reason than mere dislike for me. that he did dislike me i knew well, but my six years' association with him had taught me that he would never allow any personal motive to interfere with a chance of making money. by sending me to the gallows or into penal servitude he was practically ruining himself, for with all his acuteness and business knowledge he was quite deficient in any sort of inventive power. and yet he had not hesitated to do it, and to do it by a piece of lying sufficiently cold-blooded and deliberate to make judas pale with envy. if there had been any apparent chance of his being able to rob me by the proceeding, i could have understood it. but my business interests as far as past inventions went were safe in the hands of my lawyers, and although i had told him a certain amount about the new explosive which i had been working at, it was quite impossible for him to turn it to any practical use. no, george must have had some other reason for perjuring his unpleasant soul, and the only one i could think of was that he had purposely turned the case against me in order to shield the real murderer. he had been fairly well acquainted with the dead man, i knew--their tastes indeed ran on somewhat similar lines--and it was just possible that he was aware who had committed the crime. the thought filled me, as it always had filled me, with a bitter fury. again and again in my cell i had fancied myself escaping from the prison and choking the truth out of my cousin's throat with my fingers, and now that the first part of this picture had come true, i vowed silently to myself that nothing should stop the remainder from following it. whatever mcmurtrie might propose, i would see george once again face to face, even if death or recapture was the price i had to pay. i had just arrived at this conclusion when i heard the sound of footsteps in the passage outside. then the handle of the door turned, and mcmurtrie appeared on the threshold with savaroff looming up behind him. there was a moment's silence, while the doctor stood there smiling down on me as blandly as ever. "may we come in?" he inquired. "we are not interrupting your tea, i hope." "no, i have done tea, thank you," i said, with a gesture towards the tray. why it was so, i can't say, but mcmurtrie's politeness always filled me with a feeling of repulsion. there was something curiously sinister about it. he stepped forward into the room, followed by savaroff, who closed the door behind him. the latter then lounged across and sat down on the window-sill, mcmurtrie remaining standing by my bedside. "you have read the _mail_, i see," he said, picking up the paper. "i hope you admired the size of the headlines." "it's the type of compliment," i replied, "that i have had rather too much of." savaroff broke out into a short gruff laugh. "our friend," he said, "is modest--so modest. he does not thirst for more fame. he would retire into private life if they would let him." he chuckled to himself, as though enjoying the subtlety of his own humour. unlike his daughter, he spoke english with a distinctly foreign accent. "ah, yes," said dr. mcmurtrie amiably; "but then, mr. lyndon is one of those people that we can't afford to spare. talents such as his are intended for use." he took off his glasses and began to polish them thoughtfully. "one might almost say that he held them in trust--in trust for providence." there was a short silence. "and is it on account of my talents that you have been kind enough to shelter me?" i asked bluntly. the doctor readjusted his pince-nez, and seated himself with some deliberation on the foot of the bed. "the instinct to assist a hunted fellow-creature," he observed, "is almost universal." then he paused. "i take it, mr. lyndon, that you are not particularly anxious to rejoin your friends in princetown?" i shook my head. "not if there is a more pleasant alternative." savaroff grunted. "no alternative is likely to be more unpleasant for you," he said harshly. the touch of bullying in his tone put my back up at once. "indeed!" i said: "i can imagine several." mcmurtrie's smooth voice intervened. "but ours, mr. lyndon, is one which i think will make a very special appeal to you. how would you like to keep your freedom and at the same time take up your scientific work again?" i looked at him closely. for once there was no trace of mockery in his eyes. "i should like it very much indeed, if it was possible," i answered. mcmurtrie leaned forward a little. "it is possible," he said quietly. there was a short pause. savaroff pulled out a cigar, bit off the end, and spat it into the fireplace. then he reached sideways to the chest of drawers for a match. "explain to him," he said, jerking his head towards me. mcmurtrie glanced at him--it seemed to me a shade impatiently. then he turned back to me. "for some time before mr. marks's unfortunate death," he said slowly, "you had been experimenting with a new explosive." i nodded my head. i had no idea how he had got his information, for as far as i was aware george was the only person who had any knowledge of my secret. "and i believe you were just on the point of success when you were arrested?" "theoretically i was," i said. "these matters don't always work out quite so well when you put them to a practical test." "still, you yourself were quite satisfied with the prospects?" i nodded again. "and unless i am wrong, this new explosive will be immensely more powerful than anything now in use?" "immensely," i repeated; "in fact, there would be no practical comparison between them." "can you give me any idea as to its strength?" i hesitated. "according to my calculations," i said slowly, "it ought to prove at least twenty times as powerful as gun-cotton." savaroff uttered a hoarse exclamation and sat upright in his seat. "are you speaking the truth?" he asked roughly. i stared him full in the face, and then without answering turned back to mcmurtrie. the latter made a gesture with his hand. "leave the matter to me, savaroff," he said sharply. "i understand mr. lyndon better than you do." then addressing me: "supposing you had all the things that you required, how long would it take you to manufacture some of this powder--or whatever it is?" "it's difficult to say," i answered. "perhaps a week; perhaps a couple of months. i could make the actual stuff at once provided i had the materials, but it's a question of doing it in such a way that one can handle it safely for practical purposes. i was experimenting on that very point at the time of my arrest." mcmurtrie nodded his head slowly. "you have been candid with us," he said, "and now i will be equally candid with you. my friend m. savaroff and myself are very largely interested in the manufacture of high explosives. the appearance of an invention like yours on the market would be a very serious matter indeed for us. on the other hand, if we had control of it, we should, i imagine, be in a position to dictate our own terms." "you certainly would," i said; "there is no question about that. my explosive would be no more expensive to manufacture than cordite." "so you see when some exceedingly convenient chance brought you in through our kitchen window it naturally occurred to me to invite you to stay and discuss the matter. you happen to be in a position in which you could be useful to us, and i think that we, on the other hand, might be of some assistance to you." he leant back and watched me with that cold smile of his. "what do you say, mr. lyndon?" he added. i did some rapid but necessary thinking. it was quite true that the new explosive would knock the bottom out of the present methods of manufacture, and mcmurtrie's interests in the matter might well be large enough to make him run the risk of helping me. there seemed no reason to doubt that he was speaking the truth--and yet, somehow or other i mistrusted him--mistrusted him from my soul. "how did you know about my experiments?" i asked quietly. he shrugged his shoulders. "there are such things as trade secrets. it is necessary for a business man to keep in touch with anything that may threaten his interests." i hesitated a second. "what is it that you propose--exactly?" i inquired. i saw--or thought i saw--the faintest possible gleam of satisfaction steal into his eyes. "i propose that you should finish your experiments as soon as possible, make some of this explosive, and hand the actual stuff and the full secret of its manufacture over to us. in return i will guarantee you your freedom, and let you have a quarter interest in all profits we make out of your invention." he brought out these somewhat startling terms as coolly as though it were an every-day custom of his to do business with escaped convicts. i bent down from the bed, and under cover of picking up my second cigarette from the tray, secured a few useful moments for considering the situation. "i have no objection to the bargain," i said slowly, helping myself to a match off the table; "the only question is whether it is possible to carry it out. my experiments aren't the kind that can be conducted in a back bedroom. i should want a large shed of some kind, and the farther away it was from any houses the better. there is always the chance of blowing oneself up at this sort of business, and in that case an explosive like mine would probably wreck everything within a couple of miles." "you shall work under any conditions you please," said mcmurtrie amiably. "if it suits you we will fix you up a hut and some sheds down on the thames marshes, and you can live there till the experiments are finished." "but i should be recognized," i objected. "i am bound to be recognized. i am fairly well known as it is, and with my picture and description placarded all over england, i shouldn't stand a dog's chance. however lonely a place it was, some one would be bound to see me and give me away sooner or later." mcmurtrie shook his head. "you may be seen," he said, "but there is no reason why you should be recognized." i paused in the act of lighting my cigarette. "what do you mean?" i asked with some curiosity. "my dear mr. lyndon," said mcmurtrie, courteously, "as a scientist yourself you don't imagine that it's beyond the art of an intelligent surgeon to cope with a little difficulty like that?" "but in what way?" i objected. "a disguise? any one can see through a disguise except in novels." the doctor smiled. "i am not suggesting a wig and a pair of spectacles," he observed. "it is rather too late in the world's history for that sort of thing." then he stopped and studied me for an instant attentively. "in a fortnight, and practically without hurting you," he added, "i can make you as safe from the police as if you were dead and buried." i sat up in bed. "under the circumstances," i said, "you'll excuse my being a little inquisitive." "oh, there is no secret about it. any surgeon could do it. i have only to alter the shape of your nose a trifle, and make your forehead rather higher and wider. a stain of some sort will do the rest." "yes," i said; "but what about the first part of the programme?" he shrugged his shoulders. "child's play," he answered. "merely a question of paraffin injections and the x-rays." he spoke with such careless confidence that for once it was impossible to doubt his sincerity. i lay back again and drew in a large exulting lungful of cigarette smoke. i had suddenly realized that if mcmurtrie's offer was genuine, and he could really do what he promised, there were no longer any difficulties in the way of my getting at george. the idea of meeting him, and perhaps even speaking to him, without his being able to recognize me filled me with a wicked satisfaction that no words can do justice to. i don't think i betrayed my emotion, however, for mcmurtrie's keen eyes were on me, and i was not in the least anxious to take him into my confidence. i blew out the smoke in a grey cloud, and then, raising myself on my elbow carefully flicked the ash off my cigarette. "how am i to know that you will keep your promise?" i asked. savaroff made an angry movement, but before he could speak, mcmurtrie had broken in. "you forget what an embarrassing position we shall be putting ourselves in, mr. lyndon," he said with perfect good temper. "shielding a runaway convict is an indictable offence--to say nothing of altering his appearance. as for the money"--he made a little gesture of contempt--"well, do you think it would pay us to cheat you? there is always the chance that a gentleman who can invent things like this explosive and the lyndon-marwood torpedo may have other equally satisfactory notions." "very well," i said quietly. "i will accept the offer on one condition--that i can have a week in london before beginning work." with an oath savaroff started up from the window-sill. "gott in himmel! and who are you to make terms?" he exclaimed roughly. "why, we have only to send you back to the prison and you will be flogged like a dog!" "in which distressing event," i observed, "you would not get your explosive." "my dear savaroff," interrupted mcmurtrie, soothingly, "there is no need to threaten mr. lyndon. i am sure that he appreciates the situation." then he turned to me. "i suppose you have some reason for making this condition?" silently in my heart i invoked the shade of ananias. "if you had been in dartmoor three years," i said, with a rather well-forced laugh, "you would find several excellent reasons for wanting a week in london." my acting must have been good, for i could have sworn i saw a faint expression of relieved contempt flicker across mcmurtrie's face. "i see. a little holiday--a brief taste of the pleasures of liberty! well, that seems to me a very natural and reasonable request. what do you think, savaroff?" that gentleman contented himself with a singularly ungracious grunt. "i don't think there would be much risk about it," i said boldly. "if you can change my appearance as completely as you say you can, no one would be the least likely to recognize me. after three years of that dog's life up there i can't settle down in a hut on the thames marshes without having a few days' fun first. i should be very careful what i did naturally. i have had quite enough of the prison to appreciate being outside." mcmurtrie nodded. "very well," he said slowly. "i see no objection to your having your 'few days' fun' in london if you want them. it would be safer perhaps to get you away from this house as soon as possible. i should think three weeks would be quite enough for our purposes here--and i daresay it will take us a month to fix up a satisfactory place for you to work in." then he paused. "of course if you go to town," he added, "you will have to stay at some address we shall arrange for, and you will have to be ready to start work directly we tell you to." "naturally," i said; "i only want--" i was saved from finishing my falsehood by a sudden sound from outside--the sound of a swing gate banging against its post. for a moment i had a horrible feeling that it might be the police. savaroff jumped up and looked out of the window. then with a little guttural exclamation he turned back to mcmurtrie. "hoffman!" he muttered, apparently in some surprise. who mr. hoffman might be i had not the faintest notion, but the mention of the name brought the doctor to his feet at once. i think he was rather annoyed with savaroff for being unnecessarily communicative. when he spoke, however, it was with his usual perfect composure. "well, we will leave you at peace now, mr. lyndon. i should try to go to sleep again for a little while if i were you. i will come up later and see whether you would like some supper." he stopped and looked round the room. "is there anything else you want that you haven't got?" "if you could advance me a box of cigarettes," i said, "it shall be the first charge on the new explosive." he nodded, smiling. "i will send sonia up with it," he answered. then, following savaroff, he went out into the passage, carefully closing the door after him. left alone, i lay back on the pillow in a frame of mind which i believe novelists describe as "chaotic." i had expected something rather unusual from my interview with mcmurtrie, but these proposals of his could hardly be classed under such a mild heading as that. for sheer unexpectedness they about took the biscuit. i had read in books of a man's appearance being altered so completely that even his best friends failed to recognize him, but it had never occurred to me that such a thing could be done in real life--let alone in the simple fashion outlined by the doctor. of course, if he was speaking the truth, there seemed no reason why his plan, fantastic as it might sound, should not turn out perfectly successful. a private hut on the thames marshes was about the last place in which you would look for an escaped dartmoor convict, especially when he had vanished into thin air within a few miles of devonport. what worried me most in the matter was my apparent good luck in having fallen on my feet in this amazing fashion. there is a limit to one's belief in coincidences, and the extraordinary combination of chances suggested by mcmurtrie's smooth explanations was just a little too stiff for me to swallow. i felt sure that he was lying in some important particulars--but precisely which they were i was unable to guess for certain. that he wanted the secret of the new explosive, and wanted it badly, there could be no doubt, but neither he nor savaroff in the least suggested to me a successful manufacturer of cordite or anything else. they seemed to me to belong to a much more interesting if less conventional type, and i couldn't help wondering what on earth such a curious trio as they and sonia could be doing tucked away in an ill-furnished, deserted-looking country house in a corner of south devon. however it was no good worrying, for as far as i was concerned it was painfully clear that there was no alternative. if i declined their offer and refused to let mcmurtrie carve my face about, they had only to turn me out, and in a few hours i should probably be back in my cell with the cheerful prospect of chains, a flogging, and six months' semi-starvation in front of me. anything was better than that--even the wildest of plunges in the dark. indeed i am not at all sure that the mystery that surrounded mcmurtrie's offer did not lend it a certain charm in my eyes. my life had been so infernally dull for the last three years that the prospect of a little excitement, even of an unpleasant kind, was by no means wholly disagreeable. at least i had my week's "fun" in london to look forward to, and the thought of that alone would have been quite enough to make me go through with anything. i had lied to mcmurtrie about my object, but the falsehood, such as it was, did not sit very heavily on my conscience. the precise meaning of "fun" is purely a matter of opinion, and i was as much entitled to my definition as he was to his. after all, if a convicted murderer can't be a little careless about the exact truth, who the devil can? chapter vi the face of a stranger mcmurtrie had left me under the impression that he meant to start work on my face the next day, but as it turned out the impression was a mistaken one. both the paraffin wax and the x-ray outfit had to be procured from london, and according to sonia it was to see about these that her father went off to town early the following morning. she told me this when she brought me up my breakfast, just after i had heard the car drive away from the house. "well, i suppose i had better get up too," i said. "i can't stop in bed and be waited on by you." "you've got to," she replied curtly, "unless you would rather i sent up mrs. weston." "who's mrs. weston?" i inquired. sonia placed the tray on my bed. "she's our housekeeper. she's deaf and dumb." "there are worse things," i observed, "in a housekeeper." then i sat up and pulled my breakfast towards me. "of course i would much rather you looked after me. i was only thinking of the trouble i'm giving you." "oh, it's not much trouble," she said; then after a little pause she added, in a rather curious voice: "anyway i shouldn't mind if it was." "but i am feeling perfectly fit this morning," i persisted. "i might just as well get up if your father would lend me some kit. i don't think i could squeeze into mcmurtrie's." she shook her head. "the doctor says you are to stop where you are. he is coming up to see you." then she hesitated. "one of the prison warders called here last night to warn us that you were probably hiding in the neighbourhood." "that was kind," i said, "if a little belated. had they found the bicycle?" "no," she answered, "and they are not likely to. my father went out and brought it in the night you arrived. it's buried in the back garden." there was another short silence, and then she seated herself on the foot of the bed. "tell me," she said, "this girl--joyce aylmer--do you love her?" the question came out so unexpectedly that it took me by utter surprise. i stopped in the middle of conveying a piece of bacon to my mouth and laid it down again on the plate. "why, joyce is only a child," i said; "at least she was when i went to prison. we were all in love with her in a sort of way. her father had been an artist in chelsea before he died, and we looked on her as a kind of general trust. she used to run in and out of the various studios just as she pleased. that was the reason i was so furious with marks. it was impossible to believe that a man who wasn't an absolute fiend could--" i pulled up short in some slight embarrassment. "but she is not a child now," remarked sonia calmly. "according to the paper she must be nineteen." "yes," i said, "i suppose people grow older even when i'm in prison." "and she loves you--she must love you. do you think any woman could help loving a man who had done what you did for her?" "oh, i expect she has forgotten all about me long ago," i said with a sudden bitterness. "people who go to prison can't expect to be remembered--except by the police." i had spoken recklessly, and even while the words were on my tongue a vision of joyce's honest blue eyes rose reproachfully in my mind. i remembered the terrible heartbroken little note which she had sent me after the trial, and then her other letter which i had received in dartmoor--almost more pitiful in its brave attempt to keep hope and interest alive in my heart. sonia leaned forward, her hands clasped in her lap. "i thought," she said slowly, "i thought that perhaps you wanted to go to london in order to meet her." i shook my head. "i am not quite so selfish as that. i have brought her enough trouble and unhappiness already." "then it is your cousin that you mean to see," she said softly--"this man, marwood, who sent you to the prison." for a second i was silent. it had suddenly occurred to me that in asking these questions sonia might be acting under the instructions of mcmurtrie or her father. she saw my hesitation and evidently guessed the cause. "oh, you needn't think i shall repeat what you tell me," she broke out almost scornfully. "the doctor and my father are quite capable of taking care of themselves. they don't want me to act as their spy." there was a genuine ring of dislike in her voice as she mentioned their names which made me believe that she was speaking the truth. "well," i said frankly, "i was thinking of looking up george just to see how he has been getting on in my absence. but apart from that i have every intention of playing straight with mcmurtrie. it seems to me to be my only chance." a bell tinkled faintly somewhere away in the house, and sonia got up off the bed. "it _is_ your only chance," she said quietly, "but it may be a better one than you imagine." and with this encouraging if somewhat obscure remark she went out and left me to my thoughts. mcmurtrie came up about an hour later. suave and courteous as ever, he knocked at my door before entering the room, and wished me good morning in the friendliest of fashions. "i have brought you another _daily mail_--yesterday's," he said, throwing the paper down on the bed. "it contains the second instalment of your adventures." then he paused and looked at me with that curious smile that seemed to begin and end with his lips. "well," he added, "and how are the stiffness and the sore throat this morning?" "gone," i said, "both of them. i have no excuse for stopping in bed except lack of clothes." he nodded and sat down on the window-sill. "i daresay we can find a way out of that difficulty. my friend savaroff would, i am sure, be delighted to lend you some garments to go on with. you seem to be much of a size." "well, i should be delighted to accept them," i said. "even the joy of being in a real bed again begins to wear off after two days." "i am afraid you can't expect very much liberty while you are our guest," he said, leaning back against the window. "it would be too dangerous for you to go outside the house, even at night time. i expect sonia told you about our visitor yesterday." "yes," i said; "i should like to have heard the interview." "it was quite interesting. from what he told me i should say that few prisoners have been more missed than you are. it appears that there are over seventy warders hunting about the neighbourhood, to say nothing of volunteers." "i seem to be giving a lot of trouble," i said sadly. the doctor shrugged his shoulders. "not to us. i am only sorry that we can't offer you a more entertaining visit." he opened his case and helped himself to a cigarette. "on the whole, however, i daresay you won't find the time drag so very much. there will be the business of altering your appearance--i hope to start on that the day after tomorrow--and then i want you to make me out a full list of everything you will need in connection with your experiments. it would be best perhaps to have a drawing of the actual shed--just as you would like it fitted up. you might start on this right away." "certainly," i said. "i shall be glad to have something to do." "and i don't suppose you will mind much if we can't arrange anything very luxurious for you in the way of living accommodation. we shall have to choose as lonely a place as possible, and it will probably involve your feeding chiefly on tinned food, and roughing it a bit generally. it won't be for very long." "i shan't mind in the least," i said. "anything will be comfortable after princetown. as long as you can fix me up with what i want for my work i shan't grumble about the rest." he nodded again in a satisfied manner. "by the way," he said, "i suppose you never wore a beard or a moustache before you went to prison?" "only once in some amateur theatricals," i answered "and then the moustache came off." "they will make a great difference in your appearance by themselves," he went on, looking at me critically. "i wonder how long they will take to grow." i passed my hand up my face, which was already covered with a thick stubble about half an inch in length. "at the present rate of progress," i said, "i should think about a week." mcmurtrie smiled. "another fortnight on top of that will be nearer the mark, i expect," he said, getting up from the bed. "that will just fit in with our arrangements. in three weeks we ought to be able to fix you up with what you want, and by that time there won't be quite so much excitement about your escape. the _daily mail_ will have become tired of you, even if the police haven't." he stopped to flick the ash off his cigarette. "of course you will have to be extremely careful when you are in london. i shall change your appearance so that it will be quite impossible for any one to recognize you, but there will always be the danger of somebody remembering your voice." "i can disguise that to a certain extent," i said. "besides, it's not likely that i shall run across any one i know well. i only want to amuse myself for two or three evenings, and the west end's a large place as far as amusement goes." then i paused. "if you really thought it was too risky," i added carelessly, "i would give up the idea." it was a bold stroke--but it met with the success that it deserved. any lingering doubts mcmurtrie may have had about my intentions were apparently dispersed. "i think you will work all the better for a short holiday," he said; "and i am sure you are sensible enough to keep out of any trouble." he walked to the door, and stood for a moment with his hand on the knob. "i will send you up the clothes and some paper and ink," he added. "then you can get up or write in bed--just as you like." after three years of granite quarrying--broken only by a short spell of sewing mailsacks--the thought of getting back to a more congenial form of work was a decidedly pleasant one. during the half-hour that elapsed before sonia came up with my things, i lay in bed, busily pondering over various points in connection with my approaching task. i had often done the same in the long solitary hours in my cell, and worked out innumerable figures and details in connection with it on my prison slate. most of them, however, i had only retained vaguely in my head, for it is one of the intelligent rules of our cheerful convict system to allow no prisoner to make permanent notes of anything that might be of possible service to him after his release. there seemed, therefore, every prospect that i should be fully occupied for some time to come. indeed, it was not until i had dressed myself in savaroff's clothes (they fitted me excellently) and sat down at the table with a pen and a pile of foolscap in front of me, that i realized what a lengthy task i had taken on. all my rough notes--those invaluable notes and calculations that i had spent eighteen months over--were packed away in my safe at the victoria street office. i had not bothered about them at the time, for when you are being tried for your life other matters are apt to assume a certain degree of unimportance. besides, although i had told george of their existence, i knew very well that, being jotted down in a private cypher, no one except myself would be able to make head or tail of what they were about. still they would naturally have been of immense help to me now if i could have got hold of them. clear as the main details were in my mind, i saw i should have to go over a good bit of old ground before i could make out the exact list of my requirements which mcmurtrie needed. all that afternoon and the whole of the following day i stuck steadily to my task. i had little to interrupt me, for with the exception of sonia who brought me up my meals, and the old deaf-and-dumb housekeeper who came to do my room about midday, i saw or heard nobody. mcmurtrie did not appear again, and savaroff, as i knew, was away in london. i took an hour off in the evening for the purpose of studying the _daily mail_, which proved to be quite as entertaining as the previous issue. there were two and a half columns about me altogether, the first consisting of a powerful if slightly inaccurate description of how i had stolen the bicycle, and the remainder dealing with various features of my crime and my escape. it was headed: still at large neil lyndon's fight for liberty and i settled myself down to read with a feeling of enjoyment that would doubtless have gratified lord northcliffe had he been fortunate enough to know about it. "neil lyndon," it began, "whose daring escape from princetown was fully described in yesterday's _daily mail_, has so far successfully baffled his pursuers. not only is he still at liberty, but having possessed himself of a bicycle and a change of clothes by means of an amazingly audacious burglary, it is quite possible that he has managed to get clear away from the immediate neighbourhood." this opening paragraph was followed by a full and vivid description of my raid on the bicycle house. it appeared that the machine which i had borrowed was the property of a certain major hammond, who, when interviewed by the representative of the _mail_, expressed himself of the opinion that i was a dangerous character and that i ought to be recaptured without delay. the narrative then shifted to my dramatic appearance on the bicycle, as witnessed by the surprised eyes of assistant-warder marshfield. according to that gentleman i had flashed past him at a terrific speed, hurling a handful of gravel in his face, which had temporarily blinded him. with amazing pluck and presence of mind he had recovered himself in time to puncture my back wheel, a feat of marksmanship which, as the _daily mail_ observed, was "highly creditable under the circumstances." from that point it seemed that all traces of me had ceased. both i and the bicycle had vanished into space as completely as elijah and his fiery chariot, and not all the united brains of carmelite house appeared able to suggest a wholly satisfactory solution. "lyndon," said the _mail_, "may have succeeded in reaching plymouth on the stolen machine, and there obtained the food and shelter of which by that time he must have been sorely in need. on the other hand it is possible that, starved, frozen, and most likely wounded, he is crouching in some remote coppice, grimly determined to perish rather than to surrender himself to the warders." it was "possible," certainly, but as a guess at the truth that was about all that could be said for it. the thing that pleased me most in the whole paper, however, was the interview with george in the third column. it was quite short--only a six-line paragraph headed "mr. marwood and the escape," but brief as it was, it filled me with a rich delight. "interviewed by our special correspondent at his residence on the chelsea embankment, mr. george marwood was reluctant to express any opinion on the escape. 'the whole thing,' he said, 'is naturally extremely distasteful to me. i can only hope that the unhappy man may be recaptured before he succumbs to exposure, and before he has the chance to commit any further acts of robbery and violence.'" in regard to the last sentiment i had not the faintest doubt that george was speaking the truth from the bottom of his heart. as long as i was at liberty his days and nights would be consumed by an acute and painful anxiety. he was no doubt haunted by the idea that i had broken prison largely for the purpose of renewing our old acquaintance, and the thought that i might possibly succeed in my object must have been an extremely uncomfortable one. i laughed softly to myself as i sat and pictured his misgivings. it cheered me to think that whatever happened later he would be left in this gnawing suspense for at least another three weeks. after that i might perhaps see my way to relieve it. there were other people, i reflected, who must have read the _mail_ with an equally deep if rather different interest. i tried to fancy how the news of my escape had affected joyce. for all my cynical outburst in the morning, i knew well that no truer or more honest little heart ever beat in a girl's breast, and that the uncertainty about my fate must even now be causing her the utmost distress. then there was tommy morrison. somehow or other i didn't think tommy would be quite as anxious as joyce. i could almost see him slapping his leg and laughing that great laugh of his, as he read about my theft of the bicycle and my wild dash down the hill past the warder. he was a great believer in me, was tommy--and i felt sure that nothing but the news of my recapture would shake his faith in my ability to survive. it was good to know that, whatever the rest of the world might be thinking, these two at least would be following my escape with a passionate hope that i should pull through. just about six o'clock in the evening of the next day savaroff returned. i heard the car drive up to the house, and then came the sound of voices and footsteps, followed by the banging of a door. after that there was silence for perhaps twenty minutes while my two hosts were presumably talking together in one of the rooms below. whether sonia was with them or not i could not tell. at last i heard some one mounting the stairs, and a moment later mcmurtrie's figure framed itself in the doorway. "i'm afraid i am interrupting your work," he said, standing on the threshold and looking down at the sheets of foolscap which littered the table in front of me. "not a bit," i returned cheerfully. "i've just finished"; and i began to gather up the fruits of my two-days' toil into something like order. he shut the door and came across to where i was sitting. "do you mean you have made out the full list of what you want?" he asked, picking up one of the sheets and running his eye rapidly over the notes and calculations. "i have done it all in the rough," i replied, "except the drawing of the shed. that will only take an hour or so." "excellent," he exclaimed. "i can see there won't be much time wasted when we once get to work." then he laid down the paper. "tomorrow morning i propose trying the first of our little operations. savaroff has brought me the things i needed, and i think we can finish the whole business in a couple of days." "what part of me are you going to start on?" i inquired with some interest. "i think i shall alter the shape of your nose first," he said. "it's practically a painless operation--just one injection of hot paraffin wax under the skin. after that you have only to keep quiet for a couple of hours so that the wax can set in the right shape." "what about the x-ray treatment?" i asked. he shrugged his shoulders. "that's perfectly simple too. merely a matter of covering up everything except the part that we want exposed. one uses a specially prepared sort of lead sheeting. there is absolutely no danger or difficulty about it." i thought at first that he might be purposely minimizing both operations in order to put me at my ease, but as it turned out he was telling me nothing except the literal truth. at half-past ten the next morning he came up to my room with sonia in attendance, the latter carrying a primus stove and a small black bag. at his own suggestion i had stayed in bed, and from between the sheets i viewed their entrance not without a certain whimsical feeling of regret. when one has had a nose of a particular shape for the best part of thirty years it is rather a wrench to feel that one is abandoning it for a stranger. i passed my fingers down it almost affectionately. mcmurtrie, who appeared to be in the best of spirits, wished me good-morning in that silkily polite manner of his which i was getting to dislike more and more. sonia said nothing. she simply put the things down on the table by my bedside, and then stood there with the air of sullen hostility which she seemed generally to wear in mcmurtrie's presence. "i feel rather like a gladiator," i said. "morituri te salutant!" mcmurtrie, who had taken a shallow blue saucepan out of the bag and was filling it with hot water, looked up with a smile. "it will be all over in a minute," he said, reassuringly. "the only trouble is keeping the wax liquid while one is actually injecting it. one has to stand it in boiling water until the last second." he put the saucepan on the stove, and then produced out of the bag a little china-clay cup, which he stood in the water. into this he dropped a small lump of transparent wax. we waited for a minute until the latter melted, mcmurtrie filling up the time by carefully sponging the bridge of my nose with some liquid antiseptic. then, picking up what seemed like an ordinary hypodermic syringe, he warmed it carefully by holding it close to the primus. "now," he said; "all you have to do is to keep perfectly still. you will just feel the prick of the needle and the smart of the hot wax, but it won't really hurt. if you move you will probably spoil the operation." "go ahead," i answered encouragingly. he dipped the syringe in the cup, and then with a quick movement of his hand brought it across my face. i felt a sharp stab, followed instantly by a stinging sensation all along the bridge of the nose. mcmurtrie dropped the syringe at once, and taking the skin between his fingers began to pinch and mould it with swift, deft touches into the required shape. i lay as motionless as possible, hoping that things were prospering. it seemed to me a long time before the job was finished, though i daresay it was in reality only a matter of forty-five seconds. i know i felt vastly relieved when, with a quick intake of his breath, mcmurtrie suddenly sat back and began to contemplate his work. "well?" i inquired anxiously. he nodded his head, with every appearance of satisfaction. "i think we can call it a complete success," he said. then he stepped back and looked at me critically from a couple of paces away. "what do you think, sonia?" he asked. "i suppose it's what you wanted," she said, in a rather grudging, ungracious sort of fashion. "if you won't think me vain," i observed, "i should like to have a look at myself in the glass." mcmurtrie walked to the fireplace and unhooked the small mirror which hung above the mantelpiece. "i would rather you waited for a couple of days if you don't mind," he said. "you know what you used to look like better than any one else, and it will be a good test if you see yourself quite suddenly when the whole thing is finished. i will borrow this--and keep you out of temptation." "just as you like," i returned. "it will at least give me time to train myself for the shock." quick and easy as the first operation had been, the second proved equally simple. the only apparatus it involved was an ordinary x-ray machine, with a large glass globe attached to it, which mcmurtrie brought up the next morning and arranged carefully by my bedside. on his pressing down a switch, which he did for my benefit, the whole interior of this globe became flooded with those curious lambent violet rays, which have altered so many of our previous notions on the subject of light and its power. mcmurtrie placed me in position, and then producing a large sheet of finely-beaten-out lead, proceeded to bend and twist it into a sort of weird-looking helmet. when i put this on it covered my head and face almost completely, leaving only an inch of hair along the forehead and perhaps a little more over each temple exposed to the light. thus equipped, i sat for perhaps an hour in the full glare of the machine. it was dull work, and as mcmurtrie made no attempt to enliven it by conversation i was not sorry when he eventually flicked off the switch, and relieved me of my headgear. i had expected my hair to tumble out in a lump, but as a matter of fact it was over two days in accomplishing the task. there was no discomfort about the process: it just came off gradually all along my forehead, leaving a smooth bare line which i could feel with my fingers. as soon as it was all gone, mcmurtrie proceeded to decorate me with some kind of stain that he had specially prepared for my face and neck--a composition which according to him would remain practically unaffected either by washing or exposure. it smelt damnably in the pot, but directly it was rubbed in this slight drawback disappeared. i was naturally anxious to see what result all these attentions had had upon my personal appearance, but mcmurtrie insisted on my waiting until my hair and beard had grown to something like a tolerable length. i can well remember the little thrill of excitement that ran through me when, on the fourth day after my first operation, he brought me back the looking-glass. "i think we might introduce you to yourself today," he said, smiling. "of course another fortnight will make a considerable difference still, but even now you will be able to get a good idea of what you will look like. i am curious to hear your opinion." he handed me the glass, and the next moment, with an involuntary cry of amazement, i was staring at my reflection. instead of my usual features i saw a rough-looking, bearded man of about forty-five, with an aquiline nose, a high forehead, and a dark sunburned skin. it was the face of a complete stranger: at the best that of a hard-bitten war correspondent or explorer; at the worst--well, i don't know what it mightn't have been at the worst. i stared and stared in a kind of incredulous fascination, until mcmurtrie's voice abruptly recalled me to my surroundings. "well, mr. neil lyndon," he said, "do you recognize yourself?" i laid down the glass. "don't call me that," i replied quietly. "neil lyndon is dead." chapter vii a kiss and a confession one would hardly expect an escaped murderer to complain of being dull--especially when the whole country is still ringing with the story of his disappearance. yet i must confess that, when i had once got used to the strangeness of my position, the next two weeks dragged intolerably. i was accustomed to confinement, but in the prison at all events i had had plenty of hard work and exercise, while here, cooped up entirely in one room, i was able to do nothing but pace restlessly up and down most of the day like a caged bear. i had finished my lists and drawings for mcmurtrie, and my only resources were two or three sensational novels which sonia brought me back one day after a visit to plymouth. i cannot say i found them very entertaining. i had been rather too deeply into life in that line myself to have much use for the second-hand imaginings of other people. of the doctor and savaroff i saw comparatively little. both of them were away from the house a good deal of the time, often returning in the car late at night, and then sitting up talking till some unholy hour in the morning. i used to lie awake in bed, and listen to the dull rumble of their voices in the room below. that there was something mysterious going on which i knew nothing about i became more convinced every day, but what it could be i was unable to guess. once or twice i tried to sound sonia on the matter, but although she would talk freely about my own affairs, on any point connected with herself or the curious household to which she belonged she maintained an obstinate silence. the girl puzzled me strangely. at times it almost seemed as though she were being forced against her will to take part in some business that she thoroughly disliked; but then the obvious way in which the two men trusted her scarcely bore out this idea. she showed no particular affection for her father, and it was plain that she detested mcmurtrie, yet there was evidently some bond between them strong enough to keep all three together. to me she behaved from the first with a sort of sullen friendliness. she would come and sit in my room, and with her chin resting on her hand and her big dark eyes fixed on mine, she would ask me questions about myself or listen to the stories i told her of the prison. once, when i had been describing some peculiarly mean little persecution which one of the warders (who objected on principle to what he called "gen'lemen lags") had amused himself by practising on me, she had jumped up and with a quick, almost savage gesture, laid her hand on my arm. "never mind," she said; "it's over now, and you shall make them pay for what they have done to you. we can promise you that at least," and she laughed with a curious bitterness i failed to understand. of the mysterious mr. hoffman, who had turned up at the house on the second day after my arrival, i saw or heard nothing more. i asked sonia about him one day, but she only replied curtly that he was a business friend of the doctor's, and with this meagre information i had to remain content. the point that i felt perhaps most inquisitive about was whom mcmurtrie could have mistaken me for when i had crawled in through the kitchen window. i had a distinct recollection of his having mentioned some name just before i had collapsed, but it had gone out of my head and for the life of me i couldn't recall it. you know the maddening way a name will hang about the tip of one's tongue, just avoiding every effort at recapture. apart from my talks with sonia, my chief entertainment was reading the _daily mail_. not a day passed but some one seemed to discover a fresh clue to my hiding-place. i was seen and recognized at manchester, yarmouth, london, and edinburgh; while one gentleman wrote to inform the editor he had trustworthy information i was actually in st. petersburg, having been engaged by the russian government to effect certain improvements in their torpedo service. all this was quite pleasing, for, in addition to showing me that the police were still utterly at sea as to my whereabouts, i knew that each fresh report would help to keep george in an acute state of nervous tension. just as my imprisonment was becoming almost unbearably irksome, the end arrived with an unexpected abruptness. i was sitting at the window one morning smoking an after-breakfast pipe--a pipe which sonia had brought me back from plymouth at the same time as the books--when i heard a loud ring at the front door-bell, followed by a couple of sharp knocks. despite my three years' absence from worldly affairs, i recognized the unmistakable touch of a telegraph-boy. since it was hardly likely that the wire was for me, i continued to smoke with undisturbed serenity. perhaps ten minutes passed, and i was just wondering whether the message had anything to do with the arrangements which mcmurtrie was making on my behalf, when a door slammed and i heard someone coming up the stairs. i knew from the sound that it was the doctor himself. he entered the room, and looked round with his usual suave smile. to all outward appearance he was as composed as ever, but i had a curious presentiment that something unexpected had happened. however, i thought it best to show no sign of any such impression. "good-morning," i said, knocking out my pipe and stuffing it away in my pocket--or rather savaroff's pocket. "a grand day, isn't it!" "beautiful," he answered genially--"quite beautiful." then he walked across and sat down on the end of the bed. "as a matter of fact, i came up to see whether you felt like taking advantage of it." "do you mean that it's safe for me to go out?" i asked with some eagerness. he shrugged his shoulders. "it's as safe as it ever will be; but i meant rather more than that." there was a pause. "yes?" i said encouragingly. "i meant that our preparations are going on so well, that as far as i can see there is nothing to be gained by keeping you here any longer. i have just had a wire to say that the cottage and shed we have been arranging for near tilbury are practically finished. if you want your week in london i think you had better go up this afternoon." his proposal took me so completely by surprise that for a moment i hardly knew what to say. somehow or other, i had a suspicion that he was keeping something back. i knew that he had intended me to stay where i was for at least another three days, and he was not the sort of man to change his plans without an uncommonly good reason. still, the last thing i wanted was to let him think that i in any way doubted his good faith, so pulling myself together, i forced a really creditable laugh. "right you are," i said. "it's rather short notice, but i'm game to start any time. the only thing is, what am i to do about clothes?" "you can keep those you're wearing to go up in," he answered. "when you get to london you must buy yourself an outfit. get what you want at different shops and pay for them in cash. i will advance you fifty pounds, which ought to be enough to last you the week." "one can do quite a lot of dressing and dissipation on fifty pounds," i replied cheerfully. "where am i going to stay?" he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "here's the address," he said. "it's a lodging-house near victoria station, kept by a sister of mrs. weston. you will find it comfortable and quiet, and you needn't worry about the landlady having any suspicions. i have told her that you have just come back from abroad and that you want to be in london for several days on business. you will pass under the name of nicholson--james nicholson." he handed me the envelope, and i read the address. mrs. oldbury, , edith terrace, s.w. _nr. victoria station_. "very well," i said, getting up from my seat; "i understand i am to stop with mrs. oldbury and amuse myself spending the fifty pounds until i hear from you." he nodded. "directly things are ready we shall let you know. till then you are free to do as you like." he opened a small leather case and handed me a bundle of bank-notes. "here is the money," he added with a smile. "you see, we trust you absolutely. if you choose to make a bolt to america, there will be nothing to stop you." it was said with such apparent frankness that it ought to have carried conviction; but as a matter of fact it did nothing of the kind. i felt certain that it would not be mcmurtrie's fault if he failed to keep himself informed about my movements while i was in london. too much trustfulness in human nature did not seem likely to be one of his besetting weaknesses. however, i pocketed the notes cheerfully enough; indeed the mere touch of them in my hand gave me a pleasant feeling of confidence. it is always nice to handle money in comparative bulk, but being absolutely without it for thirty-six months invests the operation with a peculiar charm. "you had better be ready to start from here about half-past one," said mcmurtrie. "savaroff will take you into plymouth in the car, and there is a fast train up at two-five. it gets you into london just before seven." "good!" i said. "that will give me time to buy what i want when i arrive. it would spoil my dinner if i had to shop afterwards." mcmurtrie, who had crossed to the door, looked back at me with a sort of half-envious, half-contemptuous smile. "you are a curious fellow, lyndon," he said. "at times you might be a boy of twenty." "well, i am only twenty-nine," i protested; "and one can't always remember that one's an escaped murderer." i was sitting on the window-sill when i made the last remark; but as soon as he had gone i jumped to my feet and began to pace restlessly up and down the room. now that the moment of my release was really at hand, a fierce excitement had gripped hold of me. although i had had plenty of time to get used to my new position, the amazing possibilities of it had never seemed to come fully home to me till that minute. i suddenly realized that i was stepping into an experience such as probably no other human being had ever tasted. i was like a man coming back from the dead, safe against recognition, and with all the record of my past life scarred and burnt into my memory. i walked to the glass and once again stared long and closely at my reflection. there could be no question about the completeness of my disguise. between neil lyndon as the world had known him, and the grim, bearded, sunburned face that looked back at me out of the mirror, there was a difference sufficiently remarkable to worry the recording angel. people's wits may be sharpened both by fear and affection, but i felt that unless i betrayed myself deliberately, not even those who knew me best, such as george or tommy, would have the remotest suspicion of my real identity. anyhow, i intended to put my opinion to the test before very many hours had passed. i was pondering over this agreeable prospect, and still inspecting myself in the glass, when i heard a soft knock at the door. i opened it, and found sonia standing outside. she was holding a bag in her hand--a good-sized gladstone that had evidently seen some hard work in its time, and she came into the room and shut the door behind her before speaking. "well," she said, in her curious, half-sullen way, "are you pleased you are going to london?" "why, yes," i said; "i'm pleased enough." as a matter of fact the word "pleased" seemed rather too simple to sum up my emotions altogether adequately. she placed the bag on the floor and sat down on the bed. then, leaning her face against the bottom rail, she stared up at me for a moment without speaking. "what did the doctor tell you?" she asked at last. "he told me i could go up to london by the two-five," i said. "is that all?" "dr. mcmurtrie," i reminded her, "is never recklessly communicative." then i paused. "still i should like to know the reason for the change of programme," i added. she raised her head and glanced half nervously, half defiantly at the door. "we are going to give up this house tomorrow--that's the reason," she said, speaking low and rather quickly. "our work here is finished, and it will be best for us to leave as soon as possible." "i wish," i said regretfully, "that i inspired just a little more confidence." sonia hesitated. then she sat up, and with a characteristic gesture of hers pushed back her hair from her forehead. "come here," she said slowly; "come quite close to me." i walked towards her, wondering at the sudden change in her voice. as i approached she straightened her arms out each side of her, and half-closing her eyes, raised her face to mine. "kiss me," she said, almost in a whisper; "kiss my lips." i could hardly have declined such an invitation even if i had wished to, but as a matter of fact i felt no such prompting. it was over three years since i had kissed anybody, and with her eyes half-closed and her breast softly rising and falling, sonia looked decidedly attractive. i bent down till my mouth was almost touching hers. then with a little sigh she put her arms round my neck, and slowly and deliberately our lips met. it was at this exceedingly inopportune moment that savaroff's guttural voice came grating up the stairs from the hall below. "sonia!" he shouted--"sonia! where are you? i want you." she quietly disengaged her arms, and drawing back, paused for a moment with her hands on my shoulders. "now you understand," she said, looking straight into my eyes. "they are nothing to me, my father and the doctor--i hate them both. it is you i am thinking of--you only." she leaned forward and swiftly, almost fiercely again kissed my mouth. "when the time comes," she whispered-- "sonia! sonia!" once more savaroff's voice rose impatiently from the hall. in a moment sonia had crossed the room. i had one rapid vision of her looking back at me--her lips parted her dark eyes shining passionately, and then the door closed and i was alone. i sat down on the bed and took a long breath. there was a time when an unexpected incident of this sort would merely have left me in a state of comfortable optimism, but a prolonged residence in dartmoor had evidently shaken my nerve. i soon collected myself, however, and lighting a cigarette with some care, got up and walked to the open window. if sonia was really in love with me--and there seemed to be rather sound evidence that she was--i had apparently, succeeded in making a highly useful ally. this may appear to have been rather a cold-blooded way of regarding the matter, but to tell the truth the whole thing had taken me so utterly by surprise that i could scarcely realize as yet that i had been personally concerned in it. i had kissed her certainly--under the circumstances i could hardly have done otherwise--but of any deliberate attempt to make her fond of me i was beautifully and entirely innocent, it had never struck me that an escaped murderer with an artificial and rather forbidding countenance was in danger of inspiring affection, especially in a girl whose manner had always been slightly suggestive of a merely sullen tolerance. still, having succeeded in doing so, i felt no qualms in making the best of the situation. i needed friends rather badly, especially friends who had an intimate working acquaintance with the eminent firm of messrs. mcmurtrie and savaroff. if the not wholly disagreeable task of returning sonia's proffered affection was all that was necessary, i felt that it would be flying in the face of providence to decline such an opportunity. i was not the least in love with her--except by a very generous interpretation of the word, but i did not think that this unfortunate fact would seriously disturb my conscience. a life sentence for what you haven't done is apt to rob one's sense of honour of some of its more delicate points. with a pleasant feeling that things were working for the best, i got up again; and hoisting the gladstone bag on to the bed began to collect the books, the tooth-brush, and the few other articles which made up my present earthly possessions. chapter viii rt. hon. sir george frinton, p.c. that journey of mine to london stands out in my memory with extraordinary vividness. i don't think i shall ever forget the smallest and most unimportant detail of it. the truth is, i suppose, that my whole mind and senses were in an acutely impressionable state after lying fallow, as they practically had, for over three years. besides, the sheer pleasure of being out in the world again seemed to invest everything with an amazing interest and wonder. it was just half-past one when savaroff brought the car round to the front door. i was standing in the hall talking to mcmurtrie, who had decided not to accompany us into plymouth. of sonia i had seen nothing since our unfortunately interrupted interview in the morning. "well," said the doctor, as with a grinding of brakes the car pulled up outside, "we can look on this as the real beginning of our little enterprise." i picked up my gladstone. "let's hope," i said, "that the end will be equally satisfactory." mcmurtrie nodded. "i fancy," he said, "that we need have no apprehensions. providence is with us, mr. lyndon--providence or some equally effective power." there was a note of irony in his voice which left one in no doubt as to his own private opinion of our guiding agency. i stepped out into the drive carrying my bag. savaroff, who was sitting in the driving seat of the car, turned half round towards me. "put it on the floor at the back under the rug," he said. "you will sit in front with me." he spoke in his usual surly fashion, but by this time i had become accustomed to it. so contenting myself with a genial observation to the effect that i should be charmed, i tucked the bag away out of sight and clambered up beside him into the left-hand seat. mcmurtrie stood in the doorway, that mirthless smile of his fixed upon his lips. "good-bye," i said; "we shall meet at tilbury, i suppose--if not before?" he nodded. "at tilbury certainly. au revoir, mr. nicholson." and with this last reminder of my future identity echoing in my ears, we slid off down the drive. all the way into plymouth savaroff maintained a grumpy silence. he was naturally a taciturn sort of person, and i think, besides that, he had taken a strong dislike to me from the night we had first seen each other. if this were so i had certainly not done much to modify it. i felt that the man was naturally a bully, and it always pleases and amuses me to be disliked by bullies. indeed, if i had had no other reason for responding to sonia's proffered affection i should have done so just because savaroff was her father. my companion's sulks, however, in no way interfered with my enjoyment of the drive. it was a perfect day on which to regain one's liberty. the sun shone down from a blue sky flecked here and there with fleecy white clouds, and on each side of the road the hedges and trees were just beginning to break into an almost shrill green. the very air seemed to be filled with a delicious sense of freedom and adventure. as we got nearer to plymouth i found a fresh source of interest and pleasure in the people that we passed walking along the road or driving in traps and cars. after my long surfeit of warders and convicts the mere sight of ordinarily-dressed human beings laughing and talking filled me with the most intense satisfaction. on several occasions i had a feeling that i should like to jump out of the car and join some group of cheerful-looking strangers who turned to watch us flash past. this feeling became doubly intense when we actually entered plymouth, where the streets seemed to be almost inconveniently crowded with an extraordinary number of attractive-looking girls. i was afforded no opportunity, however, for indulging in any such pleasant interlude. we drove straight through the town at a rapid pace, avoiding the main thoroughfares as much as possible, and not slackening until we pulled up outside millbay station. we left the car in charge of a tired-looking loafer who was standing in the gutter, and taking out my bag, i followed savaroff into the booking office. "you had better wait there," he muttered, pointing to the corner. "i will get the ticket." i followed his suggestion, and while he took his place in the small queue in front of the window i amused myself watching my fellow passengers hurrying up and down the platform. they looked peaceful enough, but i couldn't help picturing what a splendid disturbance there would be if it suddenly came out that neil lyndon was somewhere on the premises. the last time i had been in this station was on my way up to princetown two and a half years before. at last savaroff emerged from the throng with my ticket in his hand. "i have taken you a first-class," he said rather grudgingly. "you will probably have the carriage to yourself. it is better so." i nodded. "i shouldn't like to infect any of these good people with homicidal mania," i said cheerfully. he looked at me rather suspiciously--i think he always had a sort of vague feeling that i was laughing at him--and then without further remark led the way out on to the platform. mcmurtrie had given me a sovereign and some loose silver for immediate expenses, and i stopped at the bookstall to buy myself some papers. i selected a _mail_, a _sportsman, punch_, and the _saturday review_. i lingered over the business because it seemed to annoy savaroff: indeed it was not until he had twice jogged my elbow that i made my final selection. then, grasping my bag, i marched up the platform behind him, coming to a halt outside an empty first-class carriage. "this will do," he said, and finding no sound reason for contradicting him i stepped in and put my bag upon the rack. "good-bye, savaroff," i said cheerfully. "i shall have the pleasure of seeing you too at tilbury, i suppose?" he closed the door, and thrust his head in through the open window. "you will," he said in his guttural voice; "and let me give you a little word of advice, my friend. we have treated you well--eh, but if you think you can in any way break your agreement with us you make a very bad mistake." i took out my cigarette case. "my dear savaroff," i said coldly, "why on earth should i want to break my agreement with you? it is the only possible chance i have of a new start." he looked at me closely, and then nodded his head. "it is well. so long as you remember we are not people to be played with, no harm will come to you." he let this off with such a dramatic air that i very nearly burst out laughing. "i shan't forget it," i said gravely. "i've got a very good memory." there was a shrill whistle from the engine, followed by a warning shout of "stand back there, please; stand back, sir!" i had a last glimpse of savaroff's unpleasant face, as he hurriedly withdrew his head, and then with a slight jerk the train began to move slowly out of the station. i didn't open my papers at once. for some time i just sat where i was in the corner and stared out contentedly over the passing landscape. there is nothing like prison to broaden one's ideas about pleasure. up till the time of my trial i had never looked on a railway journey as a particularly fascinating experience; now it seemed to me to be simply chock-full of delightful sensations. the very names of the stations--totnes, newton abbot, teignmouth--filled me with a sort of curious pleasure: they were part of the world that i had once belonged to--the gay, free, jolly world of work and laughter that i had thought lost to me for ever. i felt so absurdly contented that for a little while i almost forgot about george. the only stop we made was at exeter. there were not many people on the platform, and i had just decided that i was not going to be disturbed, when suddenly a fussy-looking little old gentleman emerged from the booking office, followed by a porter carrying his bag. they came straight for my carriage. the old gentleman reached it first, and puckering up his face, peered in at me through the window. apparently the inspection was a success. "this will do," he observed. "leave my bag on the seat, and go and see that my portmanteau is safely in the van. then if you come back here i will give you threepence for your trouble." dazzled by the prospect, the porter hurried off on his errand, and with a little grunt the old gentleman began to hoist himself in through the door. i put out my hand to assist him. "thank you, sir, thank you," he remarked breathlessly. "i am extremely obliged to you, sir." then, gathering up his bag, he shuffled along the carriage, and settled himself down in the opposite corner. i was quite pleased with the prospect of a fellow passenger, unexciting as this particular one promised to be. i have either read or heard it stated that when people first come out of prison they feel so shy and so lost that their chief object is to avoid any sort of society at all. i can only say that in my case this was certainly not true. i wanted to talk to every one: i felt as if whole volumes of conversation had been accumulating inside me during the long speechless months of my imprisonment. it was the old gentleman, however, who first broke our silence. lowering his copy of the _times_, he looked up at me over the top of his gold-rimmed spectacles. "i wonder, sir," he said, "whether you would object to having that window closed; i am extremely susceptible to draughts." "why, of course not," i replied cheerfully, and suiting my action to my words i jerked up the sash. this prompt attention to his wishes evidently pleased him; for he thanked me civilly, and then, after a short pause, added some becoming reflection on the subject of the english spring. it was not exactly an inspiring opening, but i made the most of it. without appearing intrusive i managed to keep the conversation going, and in a few minutes we were in the middle of a brisk meteorological discussion of the most approved pattern. "i daresay you find these sudden changes especially trying," commented my companion. then, with a sort of apology in his voice, he added: "one can hardly help seeing that you have been accustomed to a warmer climate." i smiled. "i have been out of england," i said, "for some time"; and if this was not true in the letter, i don't think that even george washington could have found much fault with it in the spirit. "indeed, sir, indeed," said the old gentleman. "i envy you, sir. i only wish my own duties permitted me to winter entirely abroad." "it has its advantages," i admitted, "but in some ways i am quite pleased to be back again." my companion nodded his head. "for one thing," he said, "one gets terribly behindhand with english news. i find that even the best of the foreign papers are painfully ill-informed." a sudden mischievous thought came into my head. "i have hardly seen a paper of any kind for a fortnight!" i said. "is there any particular news? the last interesting thing i saw was about that young fellow's escape from dartmoor--that young inventor--what was his name?--who was in for murder." the old gentleman looked up sharply. "ah! lyndon," he said, "neil lyndon you mean. he is still at large." "from what i read of the case," i went on carelessly, "it seems rather difficult to help sympathizing with him--to a certain extent. the man he murdered doesn't appear to have been any great loss to the community." my companion opened his mouth as if to speak, and then hesitated. "well, as a matter of fact i am scarcely in a position to discuss the subject," he said courteously. "perhaps, sir, you are unaware who i am?" he asked the question with a slight touch of self-conscious dignity, which showed me that in his own opinion at all events he was a person of considerable importance. i looked at him again more carefully. there seemed to be something familiar about his face, but beyond that i was utterly at sea. "the fact is, i have been so much abroad," i began apologetically-- he cut me short by producing a little silver case from his pocket and handing me one of his cards. "permit me, sir," he said indulgently. i took it and read the following inscription: rt. hon. sir george frinton, p.c. _the reform club_. i remembered him at once. he was a fairly well known politician--an old-fashioned member of the liberal party, with whose name i had been more or less acquainted all my life. i had never actually met him in the old days, but i had seen one or two photographs and caricatures of him, and this no doubt explained my vague recollection of his features. for just a moment i remained silent, struggling against a strong impulse to laugh. there was something delightfully humorous in the thought of my sitting in a first-class carriage exchanging cheerful confidences with a distinguished politician, while scotland yard and the home office were racking their brains over my disappearance. it seemed such a pity i couldn't hand him back a card of my own just for the fun of watching his face while he read it. mr. neil lyndon _late of his majesty's prison_, _princetown_. collecting myself with an effort, i covered my apparent confusion with a slight bow. "it was very stupid of me not to have recognized you from your pictures," i said. this compliment evidently pleased the old boy, for he beamed at me in the most gracious fashion. "you see now, sir," he said, "why it would be quite impossible for me to discuss the matter in question." i bowed again. i didn't see in the least, but he spoke as if the point was so obvious that i thought it better to let the subject drop. i could only imagine that he must be holding some official position, the importance of which he probably overrated. we drifted off into the discussion of one or two other topics; settling down eventually to our respective newspapers. i can't say i followed mine with any keen attention. my brain was too much occupied with my own affairs to allow me to take in very much of what i read. i just noticed that we were engaged in a rather heated discussion with germany over the future of servia, and that a well-meaning but short-sighted anarchist had made an unsuccessful effort to shoot the president of the american steel trust. of my own affairs i could find no mention, beyond a brief statement to the effect that i was still at liberty. there was not even the usual letter from somebody claiming to have discovered my hiding-place, and for the first time since my escape i began to feel a little neglected. it was evident that as a news topic i was losing something of my first freshness. the last bit of the journey from maidenhead onwards seemed to take us an unconscionably long time. a kind of fierce restlessness had begun to get hold of me as we drew nearer to london, and i watched the fields and houses flying past with an impatience i could hardly control. we rushed through hanwell and acton, and then suddenly the huge bulk of wormwood scrubbs prison loomed up in the growing dusk away to the right of the line. it was there that i had served my "separates"--those first ghastly six months of solitary confinement which make even princetown or portland a welcome and agreeable change. at the sight of that poisonous place all the old bitterness welled up in me afresh. for a moment even my freedom seemed to have lost its sweetness, and i sat there with my hands clenched and black resentment in my heart, staring out of those grim unlovely walls. it was lucky for george that he was not with me in the carriage just then, for i think i should have wrung his neck without troubling about any explanations. i was awakened from these pleasant reflections by a sudden blare of light and noise on each side of the train. i sat up abruptly, with a sort of guilty feeling that i had been on the verge of betraying myself, and letting down the window, found that we were steaming slowly into paddington station. in the farther corner of the carriage my distinguished friend sir george frinton was beginning to collect his belongings. i just had time to pull myself together when the train stopped, and out of the waiting line of porters a man stepped forward and flung open the carriage door. he was about to possess himself of my fellow passenger's bag when the latter waved him aside. "you can attend to this gentleman," he said. "my own servant is somewhere on the platform." then turning to me, he added courteously: "i wish you good-day, sir. i am pleased to have made your acquaintance. i trust that we shall have the mutual pleasure of meeting again." i shook hands with him gravely. "i hope we shall," i replied. "it will be a distinction that i shall vastly appreciate." and of all unconscious prophecies that were ever launched, i fancy this one was about the most accurate. preceded by the porter carrying my bag, i crossed the platform and stepped into a waiting taxi. "where to, sir?" inquired the man. i had a sudden wild impulse to say: "drive me to george," but i checked it just in time. "you had better drive me slowly along oxford street," i said. "i want to stop at one or two shops." the man started the engine and, climbing back into his seat, set off with a jerk up the slope. i lay back in the corner, and took in a long, deep, exulting breath. i was in london--in london at last--and if those words don't convey to you the kind of savage satisfaction that filled my soul you must be as deficient in imagination as a prison governor. chapter ix the man with the scar my shopping took me quite a little while. there were a lot of things i wanted to get, and i saw no reason for hurrying--especially as mcmurtrie was paying for the taxi. i stopped at selfridge's and laid in a small but nicely chosen supply of shirts, socks, collars, and other undergarments, and then, drifting slowly on, picked up at intervals some cigars, a couple of pairs of boots, and a presentable homburg hat. the question of a suit of clothes was the only problem that offered any real difficulties. apart from the fact that savaroff's suit was by no means in its first youth, i had a strong objection to wearing his infernal things a moment longer than i could help. i was determined to have a decently cut suit as soon as possible, but i knew that it would be a week at least before any west end tailor would finish the job. in the meantime i wanted something to go on with, and in my extremity i suddenly remembered a place in wardour street where four or five years before i had once hired a costume for a covent garden ball. i told the man to drive me there, and much to my relief found the shop still in existence. there was no difficulty about getting what i wanted. the proprietor had a large selection of what he called "west end misfits," amongst which were several tweeds and blue serge suits big enough even for my somewhat unreasonable proportions. i chose the two that fitted me best, and then bought a second-hand suit-case to pack them away in. i had spent about fifteen pounds, which seemed to me as much as a fifty-pound capitalist had any right to squander on necessities. i therefore returned to the taxi and, arranging my parcels on the front seat, instructed the man to drive me down to the address that mcmurtrie had given me. pimlico was a part of london that i had not patronized extensively in the days of my freedom, and i was rather in the dark about the precise situation of edith terrace. the taxi-man, however, seemed to suffer under no such handicap. he drove me straight to victoria, and then, taking the road to the left of the station, turned off into a neighbourhood of dreary-looking streets and squares, all bearing a dismal aspect of having seen better days. edith terrace was, if anything, slightly more depressing than the rest. it consisted of a double row of gaunt, untidy houses, from which most of the original stucco had long since peeled away. quiet enough it certainly was, for along its whole length we passed only one man, who was standing under a street lamp, lighting a cigarette. he looked up as we went by, and for just one instant i had a clear view of his face. except for a scar on the cheek he was curiously like one of the warders at princetown, and for that reason i suppose this otherwise trifling incident fixed itself in my mind. it is funny on what queer chances one's fate sometimes hangs. we pulled up at number and, mounting some not very recently cleaned steps, i gave a brisk tug at a dilapidated bell-handle. after a minute i heard the sound of shuffling footsteps; then the door opened and a funny-looking little old woman stood blinking and peering at me from the threshold. "how do you do?" i said cheerfully. "are you mrs. oldbury?" she gave a kind of spasmodic jerk, that may have been intended for a curtsey. "yes, sir," she said. "i'm mrs. oldbury; and you'd be the gentleman i'm expectin'--dr. mcmurtrie's gentleman?" this seemed an accurate if not altogether flattering description of me, so i nodded my head. "that's right," i said. "i'm mr. nicholson." then, as the heavily laden taxi-man staggered up the steps, i added: "and these are my belongings." with another bob she turned round, and leading the way into the house opened a door on the right-hand side of the passage. "this will be your sitting-room, sir," she said, turning up the gas. "it's a nice hairy room, and i give it a proper cleaning out this morning." i looked round, and saw that i was in a typical "ground-floor front," with the usual cheap lace curtains, hideous wall paper, and slightly stuffy smell. at the back of the room, away from the window, were two folding doors. my landlady shuffled across and pushed one of them open. "and this is the bedroom, sir. it's what you might call 'andy--and quiet too. you'll find that a nice comfortable bed, sir. it's the one my late 'usband died in." "it sounds restful," i said. then walking to the doorway i paid off the taxi-man, who had deposited his numerous burdens and was waiting patiently for his fare. as soon as he had gone, mrs. oldbury, who had meanwhile occupied herself in pulling down the blinds and drawing the curtains, inquired whether i should like anything to eat. "i don't think i'll trouble you," i said. "i have got to go out in any case." "oh, it's no trouble, sir--no trouble at all. i can put you on a nice little bit o' steak as easy as anything if you 'appen to fancy it." i shook my head. a few weeks ago "a nice little bit o' steak" would have seemed like heaven to me, but since then i had become more luxurious. i was determined that my first dinner in london should be worthy of the occasion. besides, i had other business to attend to. "no, thanks," i said firmly. "i don't want anything except some hot water and a latchkey, if you have such a thing to spare. i don't know what time you go to bed here, but i may be a little late getting back." she fumbled in her pocket and produced a purse, from which she extricated the required article. "i'm not gen'rally in bed--not much before midnight, sir," she said. "if you should be later per'aps you'd be kind enough to turn out the gas in the 'all. i'll send you up some 'ot water by the girl." she went off, closing the door behind her; and picking up my parcels and bags i carried them into the bedroom and started to unpack. i decided that the blue suit was most in keeping with my mood, so i laid this out on the bed together with a complete change of underclothes. i was eyeing the latter with some satisfaction, when there came a knock at the door, and in answer to my summons the "girl" entered with the hot water. she was the typical lodging-house drudge, a poor little object of about sixteen, with a dirty face and her hair twisted up in a knot at the back of her head. "if yer please, sir," she said, with a sniff, "mrs. oldbury wants ter know if yer'll be likin' a barf in the mornin'." "you can tell mrs. oldbury that the answer is yes," i said gravely. then i paused. "what's your name?" i asked. she sniffed again, and looked at me with round, wondering eyes. "gertie, sir. gertie 'uggins." i felt in my pocket and found a couple of half-crowns. "take these, gertie," i said, "and go and have a damned good dinner the first chance you get." she clasped the money in her grubby little hand. "thank you, sir," she murmured awkwardly. "you needn't thank me, gertie," i said; "it was a purely selfish action. there are some emotions which have to be shared before they can be properly appreciated. my dinner tonight happens to be one of them." she shifted from one leg to the other. "yes, sir," she said. then with a little giggle she turned and scuttled out of the room. i washed and dressed myself slowly, revelling in the sensation of being once more in clean garments of my own. i was determined not to spoil my evening by allowing any bitter or unpleasant thoughts to disturb me until i had dined; after that, i reflected, it would be quite time enough to map out my dealings with george. lighting a cigarette i left the house, and set off at a leisurely pace along edith terrace. it was my intention to walk to victoria, and then take a taxi from there to whatever restaurant i decided to dine at. the latter question was not a point to be determined lightly, and as i strolled along i debated pleasantly in my mind the attractions of two or three of my old haunts. by the time i reached victoria i had decided in favour of gaultier's--if gaultier's was still in existence. it was a place that, in my time at all events, had been chiefly frequented by artists and foreigners, but the food, of its kind, was as good there as anywhere in london. i beckoned to a passing taxi, and waving his arm in response the driver swerved across the street and drew up at the kerb. "where to, guv'nor?" he inquired. i gave him the direction, and then turned to open the door. as i did so i noticed a man standing on the pavement close beside me looking vacantly across the street. for an instant i wondered where i had seen him before; then quite suddenly i remembered. he was the man we had passed in edith terrace, lighting a cigarette under the street lamp--the man who had reminded me of one of the prison warders. i knew i was not mistaken because i could see the scar on his face. with a sudden vague sense of uneasiness i got into the taxi and shut the door. the gentleman on the pavement paid no attention to me at all. he continued to stand there staring aimlessly at the traffic, until we had jerked forward and turned off round the corner of victoria street. all the same the incident had left a kind of uncomfortable feeling behind it. i suppose an escaped convict is naturally inclined to be suspicious, and somehow or other i couldn't shake off the impression that i was being watched and followed. if so, i had not much doubt whom i was indebted to for the honour. it had never seemed to me likely that mcmurtrie would leave me entirely to my own sweet devices while i was in london--not, at all events, until he had satisfied himself that i had been speaking the truth about my intentions. still, even if my suspicions were right, there seemed no reason for being seriously worried. the gentleman on the pavement might have overheard me give the address to the driver, but that after all was exactly what i should have liked him to hear. dinner at gaultier's sounded a most natural preliminary to an evening's dissipation, and unless i was being actually followed to the restaurant i had nothing to fear. it was quite possible that my friend with the scar was only anxious to discover whether i was really setting out for the west end. all the same i determined to be devilish careful about my future movements. if mcmurtrie wanted a report he should have it, but i would take particular pains to see that it contained nothing which would in any way disturb his belief in me. we pulled up at gaultier's, and i saw with a sort of sentimental pleasure that, outside at all events, it had not altered in the least during my three years' exile. there was the same discreet-looking little window, the same big electric light over the door, and, unless i was much mistaken, the same uniformed porter standing on the mat. when i entered i found m. gaultier himself, as fat and bland as ever, presiding over the scene. he came forward, bowing low after his usual custom, and motioned me towards a vacant table in the corner. i felt an absurd inclination to slap him on the back and ask him how he had been getting on in my absence. it seemed highly improbable that he would remember my voice, but, as i had no intention of running any unnecessary risks, i was careful to alter it a little when i spoke to him. "good-evening," i began; "are you m. gaultier?" he bowed and beamed. "well, m. gaultier," i said, "i want a good dinner--a quite exceptionally good dinner. i have been waiting for it for some time." he regarded me keenly, with a mixture of sympathy and professional interest. "monsieur is hungry?" he inquired. "monsieur," i replied, "is both hungry and greedy. you have full scope for your art." he straightened himself, and for an inspired moment gazed at the ceiling. then he slapped his forehead. "monsieur," he said, "with your permission i go to consult the chef." "go," i replied. "and heaven attend your council." he hurried off, and i beckoned to the head waiter. "fetch me," i said, "a virginian cigarette and a sherry and bitters." a true gourmet would probably shudder at such a first course, but it must be remembered that for three years my taste had had no opportunity of becoming over-trained. besides, in matters of this sort i always act on the principle that it's better to enjoy oneself than to be artistically correct. lying back in my chair i looked out over the little restaurant with a sensation of beautiful complacency. the soft rose-shaded lamps threw a warm glamour over everything, and through the delicate blue spirals of my cigarette i could just see the laughing face of a charmingly pretty girl who was dining with an elderly man at the opposite table. i glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. it was close on eight--the hour when the cell lights at princetown are turned out, and another dragging night of horror and darkness begins. slowly and luxuriously i sipped my sherry and bitters. i was aroused from my reverie by the approach of m. gaultier, who carried a menu in his hand. he handed me the card with another bow, and then stepped back as though to watch the result. this was the dinner: clear soup. grilled salmon. lamb. new potatoes. woodcock. pêche melba. marrow on toast. i read it through, enjoying each separate word, and then, with a faint sigh, handed it back to him. "heaven," i said, "was undoubtedly at the conference." m. gaultier picked up a wine list from the table. "and what will monsieur drink?" he inquired reverently. "monsieur," i replied, "has perfect faith in your judgment. he will drink everything you choose to give him." half an hour later i again lay back in my chair, and lapped in a superb contentment gently murmured to myself those two delightful lines of sydney smith's-- "serenely calm, the epicure may say: fate cannot harm me, i have dined today." i sipped my turkish coffee, lighted the fragrant cabana which m. gaultier had selected for me, and debated cheerfully with myself what i should do next. i had had so many unpleasant evenings since my trial that i was determined that this one at all events should be a complete success. my first impulse of course was to visit george. there was something very engaging in the thought of being ushered into his presence by a respectable butler, and making my excuses for having called at such an unreasonable hour. i pictured to myself how he would look as i gradually dropped my assumed voice, and very slowly the almost incredible truth began to dawn on him. so charming was the idea that it was only with some reluctance i was able to abandon it. i didn't want to waste george: he had to last me at least three days, and i felt that if i went down there now, warmed and exhilarated with wine and food, i should be almost certain to give myself away. i had no intention of doing that until the last possible moment. i still had a sort of faint irrational hope that by watching george without betraying my identity, i might discover something which would throw a little light on his behaviour to me. but if i didn't go to cheyne walk, what was i to do? i put the question to myself as i slowly lifted the glass of old brandy which the waiter had set down in front of me, and before the fine spirit touched my lips the answer had flashed into my mind. i would go and see tommy! it was the perfect solution of the difficulty; and as i put down the glass again i laughed softly in sheer happiness. the prospect of interviewing tommy without his recognizing me was only a degree less attractive than the thought of a similar experience with george. i knew that the mere sight of his velvet coat and his dear old burly carcase would fill me with the most delightful emotions--emotions which now, amongst all my one-time friends, he and perhaps poor little joyce would alone have the power to provoke. the others seemed to me as dead as the past to which they belonged. one thing i was determined on, and that was that i wouldn't give away my secret. it would be difficult not to, for there were naturally a hundred things i wanted to say to tommy; but, however much i might be tempted, i was resolved to play the game. it was not the thought of my promise to mcmurtrie (that sat very easily on my conscience), but the possibility of getting tommy himself into trouble. i knew that for me he would run any risk in the world with the utmost cheerfulness, but i had no intention of letting him do it. he had done more than enough for me at the time of the trial. i called for the waiter and paid my bill. it seemed absurdly cheap for such a delightful evening, and i said as much to m. gaultier, who insisted on accompanying me to the door. he received the remark with a protesting gesture of his hands. "most people," he said, "feed. monsieur eats. to such we do not wish to overcharge. it is a pleasure to provide a dinner which is appreciated." the porter outside volunteered to call me a taxi, and while he was engaged in that operation i had a sharp look up and down the street to see whether my friend with the scar was hanging about anywhere. i could discern no sign of him, but all the same, when the taxi came up, i took the precaution of directing the man in a fairly audible voice to drive me to the pavilion, in piccadilly circus. it was not until we were within a few yards of that instructive institution that i whistled through the tube and told him to take me on to chelsea. i knew tommy was in the same studio, for joyce had told me so in her second letter. it was one of a fairly new block of four or five at the bottom of beaufort street, about half a mile along the embankment from george's house. all the way down i was debating with myself what excuse i could offer for calling at such a late hour, and finally i decided that the best thing would be to pretend that i was a travelling american artist who had seen and admired some of tommy's work. under such circumstances it would be difficult for the latter not to ask me in for a short chat. i stopped the cab in the king's road, and getting out, had another good look round to see that i was not being followed. satisfied on this point, i lighted a second cigar and started off down beaufort street. the stretch of embankment at the bottom seemed to have altered very little since i had last seen it. one or two of the older houses had been done up, but florence court, the block of studios in which tommy lived, was exactly as i remembered it. the front door was open, after the usual casual fashion that prevails in chelsea, and i walked into the square stone hall, which was lighted by a flickering gas jet. there was a board on the right, containing the addresses of the various tenants. opposite no. i saw the name of mr. t.g. morrison, and with a slight quickening of the pulse i advanced along the corridor to tommy's door. as i reached it i saw that there was a card tied to the knocker. i knew that this was a favourite trick of tommy's when he was away, and with a sharp sense of disappointment i bent down to read what was written on it. with some difficulty, for the light was damnable, i made out the following words, roughly scribbled in pencil: "out of town. please leave any telegrams or urgent letters at no. . t.m." i dropped the card and stood wondering what to do. if tommy had some pal living next door, as seemed probable from his notice, the latter would most likely know what time he was expected to return. for a moment i hesitated: then retracing my steps, i walked back into the hall and glanced at the board to see who might be the tenant of no. . to my surprise i found it was a woman--a "miss vivien." at first i thought i must be wrong, for women had always been the one agreeable feature of life for which tommy had no manner of use. there it was, however, as plain as a pikestaff, and with a feeling of lively interest i turned back towards the flat. whoever miss vivien might be, i was determined to have a look at her. i felt that the girl whom tommy would leave in charge of his more important correspondence must be distinctly worth looking at. i rang the bell, and after a short wait the door was opened by a little maid about the size and age of gertie 'uggins, dressed in a cap and a print frock. "is miss vivien in?" i asked boldly. she shook her head. "miss vivien's out. 'ave you got an appointment?" "no," i said. "i only want to know where mr. morrison is, and when he's coming back. there's a notice on his door asking that any letters or telegrams should be left here, so i thought miss vivien might know." she looked me up and down, with a faint air of suspicion. "'e's away in 'is boat," she said shortly. "'e won't be back not till thursday." so tommy still kept up his sailing! this at least was news, and news which had a rather special interest for me. i wondered whether the "boat" was the same little seven-tonner, the _betty_, in which we had spent so many cheerful hours together off the crouch and the blackwater. "thanks," i said; and then after a moment's pause i added, "i suppose if i addressed a letter here it would be forwarded?" "i s'pose so," she admitted a little grudgingly. there seemed to be nothing more to say, so bidding the damsel good-night, i walked off down the passage and out on to the embankment. if i had drawn a blank as far as seeing tommy was concerned, my evening had not been altogether fruitless. i felt vastly curious as to who miss vivien might be. somehow or other i couldn't picture tommy with a woman in his life. in the old days, partly from shyness and partly, i think, because they honestly bored him, he had always avoided girls with a determination that at times bordered on rudeness. and yet, unless all the signs were misleading, it was evident that he and his next-door neighbour were on fairly intimate terms. the most probable explanation seemed to me that she was some elderly lady artist who darned his socks for him, and shed tears in secret over the state of his wardrobe. there was a magnificent uncouthness about tommy which would appeal irresistibly to a certain type of motherly woman. i strolled up the embankment in the direction of chelsea bridge, smiling to myself over the idea. whether it was right or not, it presented such a pleasing picture that i had walked several hundred yards before i quite woke up to my surroundings. then with a sudden start i realized that i was quite close to george's house. it was a big red-brick affair, standing back from the embankment facing the river. as i came opposite i could see that there was a light on the first floor, in the room which i knew george used as a study. i stopped for a minute, leaning back against the low wall and staring up at the window. i wondered what my cousin was doing. perhaps he was sitting there, looking through the evening paper in the vain hope of finding news of my capture. i could almost see the lines on his forehead and the nervous, jerky way in which he would be biting his fingers--a trick of his that had always annoyed me intensely. he would bite harder than ever if he only knew that i was standing outside in the darkness not more than twenty yards away from him! i waited for a little while in the hope that he might come to the window, but this luxury was denied me. "good-night, george," i said softly; "we'll meet in the morning," and then, with a last affectionate look at the lighted blind, i continued my way along the embankment. i was not sure which turning i ought to take for edith terrace, but an obliging policeman who was on duty outside the tate gallery put me on the right track. there was something delicately pleasing to my sense of humour in appealing to a constable, and altogether it was in a most contented frame of mind that i inserted my latch-key into mrs. oldbury's door and let myself into the house. my first day's holiday seemed to me to have been quite a success. chapter x mademoiselle vivien, palmist i woke next morning at seven, or perhaps i should say i was awakened by gertie 'uggins, who to judge from the noise was apparently engaged in wrecking the sitting-room. i looked at my watch, and then halloed to her through the door. the tumult ceased, and a head, elaborately festooned with curl-papers, was inserted into the room. "yer want yer barf?" it asked. "i do, gertrude," i said; "and after that i want my breakfast. i have a lot to do today." the head withdrew itself, tittering; and a moment later i heard a shrill voice calling down the kitchen stairs. "grahnd floor wants 'is 'ot water quick." within about five minutes the ground floor's wish was gratified, mrs. oldbury herself arriving with a large steaming can which she placed inside a hip bath. she asked me in a mournful voice whether i thought i could eat some eggs and bacon, and having received a favourable reply left me to my toilet. it was about a quarter to eight when i sat down to breakfast. considering that for three years i had been obliged to rise at painfully unseasonable hours, this may appear to have been unnecessarily energetic, but as a matter of fact i was not acting without good reasons. to start with, it was my purpose to spend a pleasant morning with george. i wanted to be outside his house so that i could see his face when he came out. i felt sure that as long as i was at liberty he would be looking worried and depressed, and i had no wish to postpone my enjoyment of such a congenial spectacle. then, provided that i could restrain myself from breaking his head, i intended to follow him to victoria street or wherever else he happened to go. beyond this i had no plan at the moment, but at the back of my mind there was a curious irrational feeling that sooner or later i should stumble across some explanation of the mystery of marks' death. i knew that as a rule george didn't start for business until nine-thirty or ten. i was anxious to get out of the house as soon as possible, however, just in case i was correct in my idea that the gentleman with the scar was keeping a kindly eye on my movements. in that case i thought that by departing before half-past eight i should be almost certain to forestall him. if, as i believed, he was under the impression that i had been indulging in a night's dissipation, it was unlikely that he would credit me with sufficient energy to get up before ten or eleven. as to waiting for george--well, i had no objection to that. it was a nice sunny morning, and i could buy a paper and sit on one of the embankment seats. this, indeed, was exactly what i did. i slipped out of the house as unobtrusively as possible, and, stopping at a little newspaper and tobacco shop round the first corner, invested in a _telegraph_ and a _sportsman_. then, after making sure that i was not being followed, i set off for the embankment. some of the seats were already occupied by gentlemen and ladies who had apparently been using them in preference to an hotel, but as luck would have it the one opposite george's house was empty. i seated myself in the corner, and after cutting and lighting a cigar with the care that such an excellent brand deserved, i prepared to beguile my wait by reading the _d.t_. nothing particularly thrilling seemed to have been happening in the world, but i can't say i felt any sense of disappointment. just at present my own life afforded me all the excitement my system needed. the only important item of news that i could find was a rather offensive speech by the german chancellor with reference to the dispute with england. it was a surprising utterance for a statesman in his position, and the _telegraph_ had improved the occasion by writing one of its longest and stateliest leaders on provocative politicians. i had just finished reading this effort when george appeared. he came out of the front door and down the steps of his house, dressed as usual in a well-fitting frock-coat and tall hat, such as he had always affected in the old days. i stared at him with a sort of hungry satisfaction. he looked pale and harassed, and he carried his head bent forward like a man whose mind was unpleasantly preoccupied. it warmed my heart to see him. when he had gone some little way along the pavement, i got up from my seat and began to keep pace with him on the other side of the roadway. it was easy work, for he walked slowly, and stared at the ground as though fully taken up with his own thoughts. i was not the least frightened of his recognizing me, but as a matter of fact he never even looked across in my direction. we marched along in this fashion as far as vauxhall bridge road, where george turned up to the left in the direction of victoria street. i walked on a bit, so as to allow him to get about a hundred yards ahead, and then coming back followed in his track. as he drew nearer to the station i began to close up the gap, and all the way along victoria street i was only about ten yards behind him. it was tantalizing work, for he was just the right distance for a running kick. the offices of our firm, which i had originally chosen myself, are on the first floor, close to the army and navy stores. george turned in at the doorway and went straight up, and for a moment i stood in the entrance, contemplating the big brass plate with "lyndon and marwood" on it, and wondering what to do next. it seemed odd to think of all that had happened since i had last climbed those stairs. exactly across the road was a restaurant. it was new since my time, but i could see that there was a table in the window on the first floor, which must command a fair view of the houses opposite, so i determined to adopt it as a temporary scouting ground. i walked over and pushed open the swinging doors. inside was a sleepy-looking waiter in his shirt-sleeves engaged in the leisurely pursuit of rolling up napkins. "good-morning," i said; "can i have some coffee and something to eat upstairs?" he regarded me for a moment with a rather startled air, and then pulled himself together. "yes, saire. too early for lunch, saire. 'am-an'-eggs, saire?" i nodded. i had had eggs and bacon for breakfast, and on the excellent principle of not mixing one's drinks, 'am an'-eggs sounded a most happy suggestion. "very well," i said; "and i wonder if you could let me have such a thing as a sheet of paper, and a pen and ink? i want to write a letter afterwards." this, i regret to say, was not strictly true, but it seemed to offer an ingenious excuse for occupying the table for some time without arousing too much curiosity. the waiter expressed himself as being in a position to gratify me, and leaving him hastily donning his coat i marched up the staircase to the room above. when i sat down at the table in the window i found that my expectations were quite correct. i was looking right across into the main room of our offices, and i could see a couple of clerks working away at their desks quite clearly enough to distinguish their faces. they were both strangers to me, but i was not surprised at this. i always thought that george had probably sacked most of the old staff, if they had not given him notice on their own account. of my cousin himself i could see nothing. he was doubtless either in his own sanctum, or in the big inner room where i used to work with watson, my assistant. it was of course impossible to eat much of the generous dish of 'am-an'-eggs which the waiter brought me up, but i dallied over it as long as possible, and managed to swallow a cup of rather indifferent coffee. then i smoked another cigar, and when the things were cleared away and the writing materials had arrived, i made a pretence of beginning my letter. all this time, of course, i was keeping a strict watch across the street. nothing interesting seemed to happen, and i was just beginning to think that i was wasting my time in a rather hopeless fashion when suddenly i saw george come out of his private office into the main room opposite, wearing his hat and carrying an umbrella. he spoke to one of the clerks as though giving him some parting instructions, and went out, shutting the door behind him. i jumped to my feet, and hurrying down the stairs, demanded my bill from the rather surprised waiter. considering that i had been sitting upstairs for over an hour and a half, i suppose my haste did appear a trifle unreasonable; anyway he took so long making out the bill that at last i threw down five shillings and left him at the process. even so, i was only just in time. as i came out into the street george emerged from the doorway opposite. he looked less depressed than before and much more like his usual sleek self, and the sight of him in these apparently recovered spirits whipped up my resentment again to all its old bitterness. he set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the houses of parliament, and crossing the street i took up a tactful position in his rear. in this order we proceeded along whitehall, across trafalgar square, and up charing cross road into coventry street. here george stopped for a moment to buy himself a carnation--he had always had a taste for buttonholes--and then resuming our progress, we crossed the circus, and started off down piccadilly. by this time what is known i believe as "the lust of the chase" had fairly got hold of me. more strongly than ever i had the feeling that something interesting was going to happen, and when george turned up bond street i quickened my steps so as to bring me back to my old if rather tempting position close behind him. quite suddenly in the very narrowest part of the pavement he came to a stop, and entered a doorway next to a tobacconist's shop. in a couple of strides i had reached the spot, just in time to see him disappearing up a winding flight of stone stairs. there were two little brass plates at the side of the door, and i turned to them eagerly to see whom he might be honouring with a visit. one was inscribed "dr. rich. jones, m.d.," and the other "mlle. vivien." the moment i read the last name something curiously familiar about it suddenly struck me. then in a flash i remembered the pencilled notice on tommy's door, and the obliging "miss vivien" who was willing to receive his telegrams. the coincidence was a startling one, but i was too anxious to discover what george was doing to waste much time pondering over it. stepping forward to the foot of the stairs, i peered cautiously up. i could see by his hand, which was resting on the banisters, that he had passed the floor above, where the doctor lived, and was half way up the next flight. whoever mlle. vivien might be, she certainly represented george's destination. i retreated to the door, wondering what was the best thing to do. my previous effort in victoria street had been so successful that i instinctively glanced across the street to see whether there was another convenient restaurant from which i could repeat my tactics. there wasn't a restaurant but there was something else which was even better, and that was a small and very respectable-looking public-house. if i had to wait, a whisky-and-soda seemed a much more agreeable thing to beguile the time with than a third helping of ham and eggs, so crossing the road with a light heart, i pushed open a door marked "saloon bar." i found myself in a square, comfortably fitted apartment where a genial-looking gentleman was dispensing drinks to a couple of chauffeurs. along the back of the bar ran a big fitted looking-glass, sloped at an angle which enabled it to reflect the opposite side of the street. this was most convenient, for i could stand at the counter with my back to the window, and yet keep my eye all the time upon the doorway from which george would appear. "good-morning, sir: what can i get you?" inquired the landlord pleasantly. "i'll have a whisky-and-soda, thanks," i said. as he turned round to get it a sudden happy idea flashed into my mind. i waited until he had placed the glass on the bar and was pouring out the soda, and then inquired carelessly: "you don't happen to know any one of the name of vivien about here, i suppose?" he looked up at once. "vivien!" he repeated; "well, there's a mamzelle vivien across the road. d'you mean her?" i shrugged my shoulders. "i don't know," i said; then, with a coolness which would have done credit to ananias, i added: "a friend of mine has picked up a little bag or something with 'vivien, bond street,' on it. he asked me to see if i could find the owner." the landlord nodded his head with interest. "that'll be her, i expect. mamzelle vivien the palmist--just across the way." "oh, she's a palmist, is she?" i exclaimed. the thought of george consulting a palmist was decidedly entertaining. perhaps he wanted to find out whether i was likely to wring his neck. with a side glance at the chauffeurs, the landlord leaned a little towards me and slightly lowered his voice. "well, that's what she calls 'erself," he observed. "palmist and clairvoyante; and a smart bit o' goods she is too." "but i thought the police had stopped that sort of thing," i said. the landlord shook his head. "the police don't interfere with her. she don't advertise or anything like that, and i reckon she has some pretty useful friends. you'd be surprised if i was to tell you some o' the people i seen going in there--cabinet ministers and bishops." "it sounds like the athenaeum club," i said. "do you know what she charges?" "no," he replied; "something pretty stiff i guess. with folks like that it's a case of make 'ay while the sun shines." he was called off at this point to attend to another customer, leaving me to ponder over the information he had given me. i felt that somehow or other i must make mademoiselle vivien's acquaintance. a beautiful palmist, for whom george deserted his business at eleven in the morning, was just the sort of person who might prove extremely interesting to me. besides, the fact that her name was the same as that of the lady who lived next door to tommy lent an additional spur to my curiosity. it might be a mere coincidence, but if so it was a sufficiently odd one to merit a little further investigation. i drank up my whisky, and after waiting a minute or two, ordered another. i had just got this and was taking my first sip, when quite suddenly i saw in the mirror the reflection of george emerging from the doorway opposite. i didn't stop to finish my drink. i put down the tumbler, and nodding to the landlord walked straight out into the street. the pavement was thronged with the usual midday crowd, but pushing my way through i dodged across the road and reached the opposite side-walk just in time to see george stepping into a taxi a few yards farther down the street. i was not close enough to overhear the directions which he gave to the driver, but unless his habits had changed considerably the chances were that he was off to lunch at his club. anyhow i felt pretty certain that i could pick up his trail again later on at the office if i wanted to. for the moment i had other plans; it was my intention to follow george's example and pay a short call upon "mademoiselle vivien." i walked back, and throwing away the end of my cigar, entered the doorway again and started off up the stairs. i imagined that by going as an ordinary client i should find no difficulty in getting admitted, but if i did i was fully prepared to bribe or bluff, or adopt any method that might be necessary to achieve my purpose. i would not leave until i had at least seen the gifted object of george's midday rambles. i reached the second landing, where i was faced by a green door with a quaintly carved electric bell in the shape of an egyptian girl's head, a red stone in the centre of the forehead forming what appeared to be the button. anyhow i pressed it and waited, and a moment later the door swung silently open. a small but very alert page-boy who looked like an italian was standing on the mat. "is mademoiselle at home?" i inquired. he looked me up and down sharply. "have you an appointment, sir?" "no," i said, "but will you be good enough to ask whether i can see her? my name is mr. james nicholson. i wish to consult her professionally." "if you will step in here, sir, i will inquire. mademoiselle very seldom sees any one without an appointment." he opened a door on the right and ushered me into a small sitting-room, the chief furniture of which appeared to be a couch, one or two magnificent bowls of growing tulips and hyacinths, and an oak shelf which ran the whole length of the room and was crowded with books. while the boy was away i amused myself by examining the titles. there were a number of volumes on palmistry and on various branches of occultism, interspersed with several books of poetry and such unlikely works as _my prison life_, by jabez balfour, and melville lee's well-known _history of police_. it gave me rather an uncanny feeling for the moment to be confronted by the two latter, and i was just wondering whether a bond street palmist's cliéntèle made such works of reference necessary, when the door opened and the page-boy reappeared. "if you will kindly come this way, sir, mademoiselle will see you," he announced. i followed him down the passage and into another room hung with heavy curtains that completely shut out the daylight. a small rose-coloured lamp burning away steadily in the corner threw a warm glow over everything, and lit up the low table of green stone in the centre, on which rested a large crystal ball in a metal frame. except for two curiously carved chairs, there was no other furniture in the room. closing the door noiselessly behind him, the boy went out again. i stood there for a little while looking about me; then pulling up a chair i was just sitting down when a slight sound attracted my attention. a moment later a curtain at the end of the room was drawn slowly aside, and there, standing in the gap, i saw the slim figure of a girl, dressed in a kind of long dark eastern tunic. i jumped to my feet, and as i did so an exclamation of amazement broke involuntarily from my lips. for an instant i remained quite still, clutching the back of the chair and staring like a man in a trance. unless i was mad the girl in front of me was joyce. chapter xi bridging three years of separation it was the unexpectedness of the thing that threw me off my guard. with a savage effort i recovered myself almost at once, but it was too late to be of any use. at the sound of my voice all the colour had left joyce's face. her hands went up to her breast, and with a low cry she stepped forward and then stood there white and swaying, gazing at me with wide-open, half-incredulous eyes. "my god!" she whispered; "it's you--neil!" i think she would have fallen, but i came to her side, and putting my arm round her shoulders gently forced her into one of the chairs. then i knelt in front of her and took her hands in mine. i saw it was no good trying to deceive her. "i didn't know," i said simply; "i followed george here." "what have they done to you?" she moaned. "what have they done to you, my neil? and your hands--oh, your poor dear hands!" she burst out crying, and bending down pressed her face against my fingers. "don't, joyce," i said, a little roughly. "for god's sake don't do that." half unconsciously i pulled away my hands, which three years in dartmoor had certainly done nothing to improve. my abrupt action seemed to bring joyce to herself. she left off sobbing, and with a sudden hurried glance round the room jumped up from her chair. "i must speak to jack--now at once," she whispered. "he mustn't let any one else into the flat." she stopped for a moment to dry her eyes, which were still wet with tears, and then walking quickly to the door disappeared into the passage. she was only gone for a few seconds. i just had time to get to my feet when she came back into the room, and shutting the door behind her, turned the key in the lock. then with a little gasp she leaned against the wall. for the first time i realized what an amazingly beautiful girl she had grown into. "neil, neil," she said, stretching out her hands; "is it really you!" i came across, and taking her in my arms very gently kissed her forehead. "my little joyce," i said. "my dear, brave little joyce." she buried her face in my coat, and i felt her hand moving up and down my sleeve. "oh," she sobbed, "if i had only known where to find you before! ever since you escaped i have been hoping and longing that you would come to me." then she half pushed me back, and gazed up into my face with her blue, tear-stained eyes. "where have you been? what have they done to you? oh, tell me--tell me, neil. it's breaking my heart to see you so different." for a moment i hesitated. i would have given much if i could have undone the work of the last few minutes, for even to be revenged on george i would not willingly have brought my wretched troubles and dangers into joyce's life. now that i had done so, however, there seemed to be no other course except to tell her the truth. it was impossible to leave her in her present agony of bewilderment and doubt. pulling up one of the chairs i sat down, drawing her on to my knee. "if i had known it was you, joyce," i said, "i should have let george go to the devil before i followed him here." "but why?" she asked. "where should you go to if you didn't come to me?" "oh, my poor joyce," i said bitterly; "haven't i brought enough troubles and horrors into your life already?" she interrupted me with a low, passionate cry. "_you_ talk like that! you, who have lost everything for my wretched sake! can't you understand that every day and night since you went to prison i've loathed and hated myself for ever telling you anything about it? if i'd dreamed what was going to happen i'd have let marks--" i stopped her by crushing her in my arms, and for a little while she remained there sobbing bitterly, her cheek resting on my shoulder. for a moment or two i didn't feel exactly like talking myself. indeed it was joyce who spoke first. raising her head she wiped away her tears, and then sitting up gazed long and searchingly into my face. "there is nothing of you left," she said, "nothing except your eyes--your dear, splendid eyes. i think i should have known you by those even if you hadn't spoken." then, taking my hands again and pressing them to her, she added passionately: "oh, tell me what it means, neil. tell me everything that's happened to you from the moment you got away." "very well," i said recklessly: "i shall be dragging you into all sorts of dangers, and i shall be breaking my oath to mcmurtrie, but after all that's just the sort of thing one would expect from an escaped convict." step by step, from the moment when i had jumped over the wall into the plantation, i told her the whole astounding story. she listened to me in silence, her face alone betraying the feverish interest with which she was following every word. when i came to the part about sonia kissing me (i told her everything just as it had happened) her hands tightened a little on mine, but except for that one movement she remained absolutely still. it was not until i had finished speaking that she made her first comment. after i stopped she sat on for a moment just as she was; and then quite suddenly her face lighted up, and with a little low laugh that was half a sob she leaned forward and slid her arm round my neck. "tommy was right," she whispered. "he said you'd do something wonderful. i knew it too, but oh, neil dear, i've suffered tortures wondering where you were and what had happened." then, sitting up again and pushing back her hair, she began to ask me questions. "these people--dr. mcmurtrie and the others--do you believe their story?" "no," i said bluntly. "i am quite certain they were lying to me." "why should they have helped you, then?" "i haven't the remotest idea," i admitted. "i am only quite sure that neither mcmurtrie nor savaroff are what they pretend to be. besides, you remember the hints that sonia gave me." "ah, sonia!" joyce looked down and played with one of the buttons of my coat. "is she--is she very pretty?" she asked. "she seems likely to be very useful," i said. then, stroking joyce's soft curly hair, which had become all tousled against my shoulder, i added: "but i'm answering questions when all the time i'm dying to ask them. there are a hundred things you've got to tell me. what are you doing here? why do you call yourself miss vivien? are you really living next door to tommy? and george--how on earth do you come to be mixed up with george?" "i'll tell you everything," she said, "only i must know all about you first. why were you following george? you don't mean to let him know who you are? oh, neil, neil, promise me that you won't do that." "joyce," i said slowly, "i want to find out who killed seton marks. i don't suppose there is the least chance of my doing so, and if i can't i most certainly mean to wring george's neck. that was chiefly what i broke out of prison for." "yes, yes," she said feverishly, "but there _is_ a chance. you'll understand when i've explained." she put her hands to her forehead. "oh, i hardly know where to begin." "begin anywhere," i said. "tell me why you're pretending to be a palmist." she got up from my knee and, walking slowly to the table, seated herself on the end. "i wanted money," she said; "and i wanted to meet one or two people who might be useful about you." "but i left eight hundred pounds for you with tommy," i exclaimed. "you got that?" she nodded. "it's in the bank now. i have been keeping it in case anything happened. you don't suppose i was going to spend it? how could i have helped you then even when i got the chance?" "but, my dear joyce," i protested, "the money was for you. and you couldn't have helped me with it in any case. i had plenty more waiting for me when my sentence was out." "when your sentence was out," repeated joyce fiercely. "do you think i was going to let you stop in prison till then!" she checked herself with an effort. "i had better tell you everything from the beginning," she said. "i couldn't write any more to you, because i was only allowed to send the two letters, and i knew both of them would be read by somebody." she paused a moment. "i went away after the trial. i was very ill, and tommy took me to a little place called looe, down in cornwall. we stayed there nearly six months. when i came back i took the flat next to him and called myself miss vivien. i had made up my mind then what i was going to do. you see there were only two possible ways in which i could help you. one was to find out who killed marks, and the other was to get you out of prison--anyhow. of course, after the trial, it seemed madness to think about the first, but then i just had three things to go on. i knew that you were innocent, i knew that for some reason of his own george had lied about you, and i knew that there had been some one else in the flat the day of the murder." "the man who was with marks when you arrived," i said. "but you saw him go away, and there was nothing to connect him with the murder, except the fact that he didn't turn up at the trial. sexton himself had to admit that in his speech." "there was his face," said joyce quietly. "it was a dreadful face. it looked as if all the goodness had been burned out of it." "there are about five hundred gentlemen like that in princetown," i said, "including several of the warders. did they ever find out anything about him?" joyce shook her head. "mr. sexton did everything he could, but it was quite useless. whoever he was, the man never came forward, and you see there was no one except me who even knew what he was like. it was partly that which first gave me the idea of becoming a palmist. i thought that up here in the west end i was more likely to come across him than anywhere else. and then there were other people i meant to meet--men in the government who might be able to get your sentence shortened. i knew i was beautiful, and with some men you can do anything if you're beautiful, and--and you don't care." "joyce!" i cried, "for god's sake don't tell me--" "no," she broke in passionately: "there's nothing to tell you. but if the chance had come i'd have sold myself a thousand times over to get you out of prison. the only man i've met who could do anything has been lord lammersfield, and he...." she paused, then with a little break in her voice she added: "well, i think lord lammersfield is rather like tommy in some ways." "i suppose there are still one or two white men about," i said. "lord lammersfield used to be at the home office once, so of course his influence would count for a great deal. well, he did all that was possible for me, but about six months ago he told me that there was no chance of your being let out for another three years. it was then that i made up my mind to get to know george." i thrust my hand in my pocket and pulled out my cigarette case. "you--you've got rather thorough ideas about friendship, joyce," i said, a little unsteadily. "can i smoke?" she picked up a box of matches from the table, and coming across seated herself on the arm of my chair. "have i?" she said simply. "well, you taught me them." she struck a match and held it to my cigarette. "how did you manage it?" i asked. "oh, it was easy enough. i asked lord lammersfield to bring him here one day. you know what george is like; he would never refuse to do anything a cabinet minister suggested. of course he had no idea who i was until he arrived." "it must have been quite a pleasant surprise for him," i said grimly. "did he recognize you at once?" joyce shook her head. "he had only seen me at the trial, and i had my hair down then. besides, two years make a lot of difference." "they've made a lot of difference in you," i said. "they've turned you from a pretty child into a beautiful woman." with a little low, contented laugh joyce again laid her head on my shoulder. "i think," she said, "that that's the only one of george's opinions i'd like you to share." there was a moment's silence. then i gently twisted one of her loose curls round my finger. "my poor joyce," i said, "you seem to have been wading in some remarkably unpleasant waters for my sake." she shivered slightly. "oh, it was hateful in a way, but i didn't care. i knew george was hiding something that might help to get you out of prison, and what did my feelings matter compared with that! besides--" she smiled mockingly--"for all his cleverness and his wickedness george is a fool--just the usual vain fool that most men are about women. it's been easy enough to manage him." "he knows who you are now, of course?" i said. she nodded. "i told him. he would have been almost certain to find out, and then he would probably have been suspicious. as it is he thinks our meeting was just pure chance." "but surely," i objected, "he must have guessed you were on my side?" she gave a short, bitter laugh. "yes," she said, "he guessed that all right. it's what he calls 'a sacred bond between us.' there are times, you know, when george is almost funny." "there are times," i said, "when he must make judas iscariot feel sick." "i sometimes wonder why i haven't killed him," she went on slowly. "i think i should have if he had ever tried to kiss me. as it is--" she laughed again in the same way--"as it is we are becoming great friends. he is taking me out to dinner at the savoy tonight." "but if he doesn't try to make love to you--" i began. "oh!" she said, with a little shrug of her shoulders, "that's coming. at present he imagines that he is being clever and diplomatic. also there's a business side to the matter." "yes," i said; "there would be with george." "he's horribly frightened of you. of course he tries to hide it from me, but i can see that ever since you escaped from prison he has been living in a state of absolute terror. his one idea at present is a frantic hope that you will be recaptured. that's partly where i come in." "you?" i repeated. "yes. he thinks that sooner or later, when you want help, you will probably write and tell me where you are." "and then you are to pass the good news on to him?" she nodded. "he says that if i let him know at once, he will arrange to get you safely out of the country." i lay back in the chair and laughed out loud. joyce, who was still sitting on the arm, looked down happily into my face. "oh," she said, "i love to hear you laugh again." then, slipping her hand into mine, she went on: "i suppose he means to arrange it so that it will look as if you had been caught by accident while he was trying to help you." "i expect so," i said. "i should be out of the way again then, and you would be so overcome by gratitude--oh, yes, there's quite a georgian touch about it." the sharp tinkle of an electric bell broke in on our conversation. joyce jumped up from the chair, and for a moment both remained listening while "jack" answered the door. "i know who it is," whispered joyce. "it's old lady mortimer. she had an appointment for one o'clock." "but what have you arranged to do?" i asked. "there's no reason you should put all your people off. i can go away for the time, or stop in another room, or something." "no, no; it's all right," whispered joyce. "i'll tell you in a minute." she waited until we heard the front door shut, and then coming back to me sat down again on my knee. "i told jack," she said, "not to let any one into the flat till three o'clock. i have an appointment then i ought to keep, but that still gives us nearly two hours. i will send jack across to stewart's to fetch us some lunch, and we'll have it in here. what would you like, my neil?" "anything but eggs and bacon," i said, getting out another cigarette. she jumped up with a laugh, and, after striking me a match, went out into the passage, leaving the door open. i heard her call the page-boy and give him some instructions, and then she came back into the room, her eyes dancing with happiness and excitement. "isn't this splendid!" she exclaimed. "only this morning i was utterly miserable wondering if you were dead, and here we are having lunch together just like the old days in chelsea." "except for your hair, joyce," i said. "don't you remember how it was always getting in your eyes?" "oh, that!" she cried; "that's easily altered." she put up her hands, and hastily pulled out two or three hairpins. then she shook her head, and in a moment a bronze mane was rippling down over her shoulders exactly as it used to in the old days. "i wish i could do something like that," i said ruefully. "i'm afraid my changes are more permanent." joyce came up and thrust her arm into mine. "my poor dear," she said, pressing it to her. "never mind; you look splendid as you are." "won't your boy think there's something odd in our lunching together like this?" i asked. "he seems a pretty acute sort of youth." "jack?" she said. "oh, jack's all right. he was a model in chelsea. i took him away from his uncle, who used to beat him with a poker. he doesn't know anything about you, but if he did he would die for you cheerfully. he's by way of being rather grateful to me." "you always inspired devotion, joyce," i said, smiling. "do you remember how tommy and i used to squabble as to which of us should eventually adopt you?" she nodded, almost gravely; then with a sudden change back to her former manner, she made a step towards the inner room, pulling me after her. "come along," she said. "we'll lunch in there. it's more cheerful than this, and anyway i want to see you in the daylight." i followed her in through the curtains, and found myself in a small, narrow room with a window which looked out on the back of burlington arcade. a couple of chairs, a black oak gate-legged table, and a little green sofa made up the furniture. joyce took me to the window, and still holding my arm, made a second and even longer inspection of mcmurtrie's handiwork. "it's wonderful, neil," she said at last. "you look fifteen years older and absolutely different. no one could possibly recognize you except by the way you speak." "i've been practising that," i said, altering my voice. "i shouldn't have given myself away if you hadn't taken me by surprise." she smiled again happily. "it's so good to feel that you're safe, even if it's only for a few days." then, letting go my arm, she crossed to the sofa. "come and sit down," she went on. "we've got to decide all sorts of things, and we shan't have too much time." "i've told you my plans, joyce," i said, "such as they are. i mean to go through with this business of mcmurtrie's, though i'm sure there's something crooked at the bottom of it. as for the rest--" i shrugged my shoulders and sat down on the sofa beside her; "well, i've got the sort of hand one has to play alone." joyce looked at me quietly and steadily. "neil," she said; "do you remember that you once called me the most pig-headed infant in chelsea?" "did i?" i said. "that was rather rude." "it was rather right," she answered calmly; "and i haven't changed, neil. if you think tommy and i are going to let you play this hand alone, as you call it, you are utterly and absolutely wrong." "do you know what the penalties are for helping an escaped convict?" i asked. she laughed contemptuously. "listen, neil. for three years tommy and i have had no other idea except to get you out of prison. is it likely we should leave you now?" "but what can you do, joyce?" i objected. "you'll only be running yourselves into danger, and--" "oh, neil dear," she interrupted; "it's no good arguing about it. we mean to help you, and you'll have to let us." "but suppose i refuse?" i said. "then as soon as tommy comes back tomorrow i shall tell him everything that you've told me. i know your address at pimlico, and i know just about where your hut will be down the thames. if you think tommy will rest for a minute till he's found you, you must have forgotten a lot about him in the last three years." she spoke with a kind of indignant energy, and there was an obstinate look in her blue eyes, which showed me plainly that it would be waste of time trying to reason with her. i reflected quickly. perhaps after all it would be best for me to see tommy myself. he at least would appreciate the danger of dragging joyce into the business, and between us we might be able to persuade her that i was right. "well, what are your ideas, joyce?" i said. "except for keeping my eye on george i had no particular plan until i heard from mcmurtrie." joyce laid her hand on my sleeve. "tomorrow," she said, "you must go and see tommy. he is coming back by the midday train, and he will get to the flat about two o'clock. tell him everything that you have told me. i shan't be able to get away from here till the evening, but i shall be free then, and we three will talk the whole thing over. i shan't make any more appointments here after tomorrow." "very well," i said reluctantly. "i will go and look up tommy, but i can't see that it will do any good. i am only making you and him liable to eighteen months' hard labour." she was going to speak, but i went on. "don't you see, joyce dear, there are only two possible courses open to me? i can either wait and carry out my agreement with mcmurtrie, or i can go down to chelsea and force the truth about marks's death out of george--if he really knows it. dragging you two into my wretched affairs won't alter them at all." "yes, it will," she said obstinately. "there are lots of ways in which we can help you. suppose these people turn out wrong, for instance; they might even mean to give you up to the police as soon as they've got your secret. and then there's george. if he does know anything about the murder i'm the only person who is the least likely to find it out. why--" a discreet knock at the outer door interrupted her, and she got up from the sofa. "that's jack with the lunch," she said. "come along, neil dear. we won't argue about it any more now. let's forget everything for an hour,--just be happy together as if we were back in chelsea." she held out her hands to me, her lips smiling, her blue eyes just on the verge of tears. i drew her towards me and gently stroked her hair, as i used to do in the old days in chelsea when she had come to me with some of her childish troubles. i felt an utter brute to think that i could ever have doubted her loyalty, even for an instant. how long we kept the luckless jack waiting on the mat i can't say, but at last joyce detached herself, and crossing the room, opened the door. jack came in carrying a basket in one hand and a table-cloth in the other. if he felt any surprise at finding joyce with her hair down he certainly didn't betray it. "i got what i could, mademoiselle," he observed, putting down his burdens. "oyster patties, galatine, cheese-cakes, and a bottle of champagne. i hope that will please mademoiselle?" "it sounds distinctly pleasing, jack," said joyce gravely. "but then you always do just what i want." the boy flushed with pleasure, and began to lay the table without even so much as bestowing a glance on me. it was easy enough to see that he adored his young mistress--adored her far beyond questioning any of her actions. all through lunch--and an excellent lunch it was too--joyce and i were ridiculously happy. somehow or other we seemed to drop straight back into our former jolly relations, and for the time i almost forgot that they had ever been interrupted. in spite of all she had been through since, joyce, at the bottom of her heart, was just the same as she had been in the old days--impulsive, joyous, and utterly unaffected. all her bitterness and sadness seemed to slip away with her grown-up manner; and catching her infectious happiness, i too laughed and joked and talked as cheerfully and unconcernedly as though we were in truth back in chelsea with no hideous shadow hanging over our lives. i even found myself telling her stories about the prison, and making fun of one of the chaplain's sermons on the beauties of justice. at the time i remembered it had filled me with nothing but a morose fury. it was the little clock on the mantlepiece striking a quarter to three which brought us back to the realities of the present. "i must go, joyce," i said reluctantly, "or i shall be running into some of your duchesses." she nodded. "and i've got to do my hair by three, and turn myself back from joyce into mademoiselle vivien--if i can. oh, neil, neil; it's a funny, mad world, isn't it!" she lifted up my hand and moved it softly backwards and forwards against her lips. then, suddenly jumping up, she went into the next room, and came back with my hat and stick. "here are your dear things," she said; "and i shall see you tomorrow evening at tommy's. i shan't leave him a note--somebody might open it; i shall just let you go and find him yourself. oh, i should love to be there when he realizes who it is." "i know just what he'll do," i said. "he'll stare at me for a minute; then he'll say quite quietly, 'well, i'm damned,' and go and pour himself out a whisky." she laughed gaily. "yes, yes," she said. "that's exactly what will happen." then with a little change in her voice she added: "and you will be careful, won't you, neil? i know you're quite safe; no one can possibly recognize you; but i'm frightened all the same--horribly frightened. isn't it silly of me?" i kissed her tenderly. "my joyce," i said, "i think you have got the bravest heart in the whole world." and with this true if rather inadequate remark i left her. i had plenty to think about during my walk back to victoria. exactly what result the sharing of my secret with tommy and joyce would have, it was difficult to forecast, but it opened up a disquieting field of possibilities. rather than get either of them into trouble i would cheerfully have thrown myself in front of the next motor bus, but if such an extreme course could be avoided i certainly had no wish to end my life in that or any other abrupt fashion until i had had the satisfaction of a few minutes' quiet conversation with george. i blamed myself to a certain extent for having given way to joyce. still, i knew her well enough to be sure that if i had persisted in my refusal she would have stuck to her intention of trying to help me against my will. that would only have made matters more dangerous for all of us, so on the whole it was perhaps best that i should go and see tommy. i had not the fainest doubt he would be anxious enough to help me himself if i would let him, but he would at least see the necessity for keeping joyce out of the affair. we ought to be able to manage her between us, though when i remembered the obstinate look in her eyes i realized that it wouldn't be exactly a simple matter. i stopped at a book-shop just outside victoria, which i had noticed on the previous evening. i wanted to order a copy of a book dealing with a certain branch of high explosives that i had forgotten to ask mcmurtrie for, and when i had done that i took the opportunity of buying a couple of novels by wells which had been published since i went to prison. wells was a luxury which the prison library didn't run to. with these tucked under my arm, and still pondering over the unexpected results of my chase after george, i continued my walk to edith terrace. as i reached the house and thrust my key into the lock the door suddenly opened from the inside, and i found myself confronted by the apparently rather embarrassed figure of miss gertie 'uggins. "i 'eard you a-comin'," she observed, rubbing one hand down her leg, "so i opened the door like." "that was very charming of you, gertrude," i said gravely. she tittered, and then began to retreat slowly backwards down the passage. "there's a letter for you in the sittin'-room. come by the post after you'd gorn. yer want some tea?" "i don't mind a cup," i said. "i've been eating and drinking all day; it seems a pity to give it up now." "i'll mike yer one," she remarked, nodding her head. "mrs. oldbury's gorn out shoppin'." she disappeared down the kitchen stairs, and opening the door of my room i discovered the letter she had referred to stuck up on the mantelpiece. i took it down with some curiosity. it was addressed to james nicholson, esq., and stamped with the strand postmark. i did not recognize the writing, but common-sense told me that it could only be from mcmurtrie or one of his crowd. when i opened the envelope i found that it contained a half-sheet of note-paper, with the following words written in a sloping, foreign-looking hand: "you will receive either a message or a visitor at five o'clock tomorrow afternoon. kindly make it convenient to be at home at that hour." that was all. there was no signature and no address, and it struck me that as an example of polite letter-writing it certainly left something to be desired. still, the message was clear enough, which was the chief point, so, folding it up, i thrust it back into the envelope and put it away in my pocket. after all, one can't expect a really graceful literary style from a high explosives syndicate. i wondered whether the note meant that the preparations which were being made for me at tilbury were finally completed. mcmurtrie had promised me a week in town, and so far i had only had two days; still i was hardly in a position to kick if he asked me to go down earlier. anyhow i should know the next day, so there seemed no use in worrying myself about it unnecessarily. it was my intention to spend a quiet interval reading one of my books, before going out somewhere to get some dinner. in pursuance of this plan i exchanged my boots for a pair of slippers and settled myself down comfortably in the only easy-chair in the room. in about ten minutes' time, faithful to her word, gertie 'uggins brought me up an excellent cup of tea, and stimulated by this and the combined intelligence and amorousness of mr. wells's hero, i succeeded in passing two or three very agreeable hours. at seven o'clock i roused myself rather reluctantly, put on my boots again, and indulged in the luxury of a wash and a clean collar. then, after ringing the bell and informing mrs. oldbury that i should be out to dinner, i left the house with the pleasantly vague intention of wandering up west until i found some really attractive restaurant. it was a beautiful evening, more like june than the end of april; and with a cigarette alight, i strolled slowly along victoria street, my mind busy over the various problems with which providence had seen fit to surround me. i had got nearly as far as the stores, when a sudden impulse took me to cross over and walk past our offices. a taxi was coming up the road, so i waited for a moment on the pavement until it had passed. the back part of the vehicle was open, and as it came opposite to me, the light from one of the big electric standards fell clear on the face of the man inside. he was sitting bolt upright, looking straight out ahead, but in spite of his opera hat and his evening dress i recognized him at once. it was the man with the scar--the man i had imagined to be tracking me on the previous evening. chapter xii a scribbled warning i have never been slow to act in moments of sudden emergency, and in rather less than a second i had made up my mind. the mere idea of stalking one's own shadower was a distinctly attractive one; surrounded as i was by a baffling sense of mystery and danger i jumped at the chance with an almost reckless enthusiasm. coming up behind was another taxi--an empty one, the driver leaning back in his seat puffing lazily at a pipe. i stepped out into the road and signalled to him to pull up. "follow that taxi in front," i said quickly. "if you keep it in sight till it stops i'll give you five shillings for yourself." all the languor disappeared from the driver's face. hastily knocking out his pipe, he stuffed it into his pocket, and the next moment we were bowling up victoria street hard on the track of our quarry. i sat back in the seat, filled with a pleasant exhilaration. of course it was just possible that i was making a fool of myself--that the gentleman in front was as innocent of having spied on my movements as the bishop of london. still if that were the case there could be no harm in following him, while if he were really one of mcmurtrie's friends a closer acquaintance with his methods of spending the evening seemed eminently desirable. half way along whitehall my driver quickened his pace until we were only a few yards behind the other taxi. i was just going to caution him not to get too near, when i realized that unless we hung on as close as possible we should probably lose it in the traffic at the corner of the strand. the soundness of this reasoning was apparent a moment later, when we only just succeeded in following it across the square before a policeman's hand peremptorily barred the way. past the garrick theatre, across long acre, and up charing cross road the chase continued with unabated vigour. at the palace the other driver turned off sharp to the left, and running a little way along old compton street came to a halt outside parelli's, the well-known restaurant. as he began to slow down i picked up the speaking tube and instructed my man to go straight past on the other side of the street, an order which he promptly obeyed without changing his pace. i didn't make the mistake of looking round. i just sat still in my seat until we had covered another thirty yards or so, and then gave the signal to stop. the driver, who seemed to have entered thoroughly into the spirit of the affair, at once clambered out of his seat and came round as though to open the door. "gent's standin' on the pavement payin' 'is fare, sir," he observed in a hoarse whisper. "thought ye might like to know before ye gets out." "thanks," i said; "i'll take the chance of lighting a cigarette." i was about to suit the action to the word, when with a sudden exclamation the man again interrupted me. "there's another gent just come up in a taxi, sir--proper toff too from 'is looks. 'e's shakin' 'ands with our bloke." "is he an old man?" i asked quickly--"an old man with glasses?" "'e don't look very old, but 'e's got a glass right enough--leastways one o' them bow-winder things in 'is eye." he paused. "they've gone inside now, guv'nor; they won't spot ye if you want to 'op it." he opened the door, and stepping out on to the pavement i handed him half a sovereign, which i was holding in readiness. he touched his cap. "thank ye, sir. thank ye very much." then, fumbling in his pocket, he produced a rather dirty and crumpled card. "i don't rightly know what the game is, guv'nor," he went on in a lowered tone, "but if you should 'appen to want to call on me for evidence any time, martyn's garridge, walham green, 'll always find me. ye only need to ask for dick 'arris. they all knows me round there." i accepted the card, and having assured mr. harris that in the event of my needing his testimony i would certainly look him up, i lit my delayed cigarette and started to stroll back towards parelli's. whoever my original friend and his pal with the eyeglass might be, i was anxious to give them a few minutes' law before thrusting myself upon their society. i had known parelli's well in the old days, and remembering the numerous looking-glasses which decorated its walls, i thought it probable that i should be able to find some obscure seat, from which i could obtain a view of their table without being too conspicuous myself. still, it seemed advisable to give them time to settle down to dinner first, so, stopping at a newspaper shop at the corner, i spun out another minute or two in buying myself a copy of _la vie parisienne_ and the latest edition of the _pall mall_. with these under my arm and a pleasant little tingle of excitement in my heart i walked up to the door of the restaurant, which a uniformed porter immediately swung open. i found myself in a brightly lit passage, inhabited by a couple of waiters, one of whom came forward to take my hat and stick. the other pushed back the glass door which led into the restaurant, and then stood there bowing politely and waiting for me to pass. i stopped for a moment on the threshold, and cast a swift glance round the room. it was a large, low-ceilinged apartment, broken up by square pillars, but as luck would have it i spotted my two men at the very first attempt. they were sitting at a table in one of the farther corners, and they seemed to be so interested in each other's company that neither of them had even looked up at my entrance. i didn't wait for them to do it either. quickly and unobtrusively i walked to the corner table on the left of the floor, and sat down with my back towards them. i was facing a large mirror which reflected the other side of the room with admirable clearness. a waiter handed me the menu, and after i had ordered a light dinner i spread out _la vie parisienne_ on the table, and bending over it made a pretence of admiring its drawings. as a matter of fact i kept my entire attention focused on the looking-glass. i could only see the back of the man with the scar, but the face of his companion, who was sitting sideways on, was very plainly visible. it was a striking-looking face, too. he seemed to be about thirty-five--a tall, clean-shaven, powerfully built man, with bright blue eyes and a chin like the toe of a boot. his hair was prematurely grey, and this, together with the monocle that he was wearing, gave him a curious air of distinction. he looked like a cross between a successful barrister and a retired prize-fighter. i watched him with considerable interest. if he was another of mcmurtrie's mysterious circle, i certainly preferred him to any of the ones i had previously come across. his face, though strong and hard, had none of savaroff's brutality in it, and he was quite lacking in that air of sinister malevolence that seemed to hang about the doctor. as far as i could see, most of the talking was being done by the man with the scar. he also appeared to be the host, for i saw him pick up the wine list, and after consulting his companion's taste give a carefully selected order to the waiter. then my own dinner began to arrive, and putting aside _la vie_, i propped up the _pall mall_ in front of me and started to attack the soup. all through the meal i divided my attention between the paper and the looking-glass. i was careful how i made use of the latter, for the waiter was hovering about most of the time, and i didn't want him to think that i was spying on some of the other customers. so quite genuinely i waded through the news, keeping on glancing in the mirror over the top of the paper from time to time just to see how things were progressing behind me. that my two friends were getting along together very well was evident not only from their faces but from the sounds of laughter which at intervals came floating down the room. indeed, so animated was their conversation, that although i had begun my dinner later, i had finished some little time before they had. i had no intention of leaving first, however, so ordering myself some coffee, i sat back in my chair, and with the aid of a cigar, continued my study of the _pall mall_. i was in the middle of a spirited article on the german trouble, headed "what does the kaiser mean?" when glancing in the mirror i saw a waiter advance to the table behind me, carrying a bottle of port in a basket, with a care that suggested some exceptional vintage. he poured out a couple of glasses, and then placing it reverently on the table, withdrew from the scene. i watched both men take a sip, and saw them set down their glasses with a thoroughly satisfied air. then the man with the scar made a sudden remark to the other, who, turning his head, looked away over his shoulder into the restaurant. his attention could only have been withdrawn from the table for a couple of seconds at the most, but in that fraction of time something happened which set my heart beating rapidly in a kind of cold and tense excitement. so swiftly, that if i had not been looking straight in the mirror i should have missed seeing it, the man with the scar brought his hand down over his companion's glass. unless my eyes were playing me a trick, i distinctly saw him empty something into the wine. there are rare occasions in life when one acts instinctively in the right way before one's mind has had time to reason matters out. it was so with me now. without stopping to think, i whipped out a pencil from my pocket, and snatched away a piece of white paper from underneath the small dish of candied fruit in front of me. spreading it out on the table i hastily scribbled the following words: "don't drink your wine. the man with you has just put something into it." i folded this up, and beckoned to one of the waiters who was standing by the door. he came forward at once. "do you want to earn half a sovereign?" i asked. "yes, sir," he answered, without the faintest air of surprise. "listen to me, then," i said, "and whatever you do don't look round. in the farther corner behind us there's a gentleman with an eyeglass dining with another man. go up the centre of the room and give him this note. if he asks you who it's from, say some one handed it you in the hall and told you to deliver it. then go and get my bill and bring it me here." the waiter bowed, and taking the note departed on his errand, as casually as though i had instructed him to fetch me a liqueur. all the time i had been speaking i had kept a watchful eye on the mirror, and as far as i could tell neither of the two men had noticed our conversation. they were talking and laughing, the man i had sent the message to lightly fingering the stem of his wine-glass, and blowing thin spirals of cigarette smoke into the air. even as i looked he raised the glass, and for one harrowing second i thought i was too late. then, like a messenger from the gods, the waiter suddenly appeared from behind one of the pillars and handed him my note on a small silver tray. he took it casually with his left hand; at the same time setting down his wine-glass on the table. i saw him make an excuse to his host, and then open it and read it. i don't know exactly what i had expected him to do next, but the result was certainly surprising. instead of showing any amazement or even questioning the waiter, he made some laughing remark to his companion, and putting his hand in his pocket pulled out a small leather case from which he extracted a card. bending over the table he wrote two or three words in pencil, and handed it to the waiter. as he did so the edge of his sleeve just caught the wine-glass. i saw the other man start up and stretch out his hand, but he was too late to save it. over it went, breaking into pieces against one of the plates, and spilling the wine all across the table-cloth. it was done so neatly that i could almost have sworn it was an accident. indeed the exclamation of annoyance with which the culprit greeted his handiwork sounded so perfectly genuine that if i hadn't known what was in the note i should have been completely deceived. i saw the waiter step forward and dab hurriedly at the stain with a napkin, while the author of the damage, coolly pulling up another glass, helped himself to a fresh supply from the bottle. a more beautifully carried out little bit of acting it has never been my good luck to witness. if the man with the scar suspected anything (which i don't think he did) he was at least intelligent enough to keep the fact to himself. he laughed heartily over the contretemps, and taking out his cigar-case offered his companion a choice of the contents. i saw the latter shake his head, raising his half-finished cigarette as much as to indicate his preference for that branch of smoking. it struck me, however, that his refusal was possibly dictated by other motives. full of curiosity as i was, i thought it better at this point not to tempt fate any further. at any moment the man with the scar might look round, and although i was some distance away, it was quite likely that if he did he would recognize my reflection in the mirror. i was doubly anxious now to avoid any such mischance, so, picking up _la vie_, i opened its immoral but conveniently spacious pages, and from behind their shelter waited for my bill. it was not long in coming. impassive as ever, the waiter reappeared with his little silver tray, which this time contained a white slip folded across in the usual fashion. as i took it up i felt something inside, and opening it i discovered a small visiting card with the following inscription: mr. bruce latimer _jermyn street, w_. scribbled across the top in pencil were the following words: "thanks. i shall be still more grateful if you will look me up at the above address." quickly and unobtrusively i tucked it away in my waistcoat pocket, and glancing at the total of the bill, which came to about fifteen shillings, put down a couple of my few remaining sovereigns. it pays to be a little extravagant when you have been well served. a swift inspection of the mirror showed me that neither of the occupants of the end table was looking in my direction, so taking my chance i rose quickly to my feet and stepped forward behind the shelter of the nearest pillar. here i was met by another waiter who handed me my hat and stick, while his impassive colleague, pocketing the two pounds, advanced to the door and opened it before me with a polite bow. i felt rather like the hero of a melodrama making his exit after the big scene. once in the street, the full realization of what i had just been through came to me with a sort of curious shock. it seemed an almost incredible thing that a man should make an attempt to drug or poison another in a public restaurant, but, unless i was going off my head, that was what had actually occurred. of course i might possibly have been mistaken in what i saw in the glass, but the readiness with which mr. latimer (somehow the name seemed vaguely familiar to me) had accepted my hint rather knocked that theory on the head. it showed that he, at all events, had not regarded such a contingency as being the least bit incredible. i began to try and puzzle out in my mind what bearings this amazing incident could have on my own affairs. i was not even sure as yet whether the man with the scar had been really spying on my movements or whether my seeing him twice on the night of my arrival in town had been purely a matter of coincidence. if he was a friend of mcmurtrie's, it seemed to stand to reason that' mr. bruce latimer was not. even in such a weird sort of syndicate as i had apparently stumbled against it was hardly probable that the directors would attempt to poison each other in west end restaurants. the question was should i accept the invitation pencilled across the card? i was anxious enough in all conscience to find out something definite about mcmurtrie and his friends, but i certainly had no wish to mix myself up with any mysterious business in which i was not quite sure that they were concerned. for the time being my own affairs provided me with all the interest and excitement that i needed. besides, even if the man with the scar was one of the gang, and had really tried to poison or drug his companion, i was scarcely in a position to offer the latter my assistance. apart altogether from the fact that i had given my promise to the doctor, it was obviously impossible for me to explain to a complete stranger how i came to be mixed up with the matter. an escaped convict, however excellent his intentions may be, is bound to be rather handicapped in his choice of action. with my mind busy over these problems i pursued my way home, only stopping at a small pub opposite victoria to buy myself a syphon of soda and a bottle of drinkable whisky. with these under my arm (it's extraordinary how penal servitude relieves one of any false pride) i continued my journey, reaching the house just as big ben was booming out the stroke of half-past nine. it seemed a bit early to turn in, but i had had such a varied and emotional day that the prospect of a good night's rest rather appealed to me. so, after mixing myself a stiff peg, i undressed and got into bed, soothing my harassed mind with another chapter or two of h.g. wells before attempting to go to sleep. so successful was this prescription that when i did drop off it was into a deep, dreamless slumber which was only broken by the appearance of gertie 'uggins with a cup of tea at eight o'clock the next morning. soundly and long as i had slept i didn't hurry about getting up. according to joyce, tommy would not be back until somewhere about two, and i had had so many grisly mornings of turning out at five o'clock after a night of sleepless horror that the mere fact of being able to lie in bed between clean sheets was still something of a novelty and a pleasure. lie in bed i accordingly did, and, in the process of consuming several cigarettes, continued to ponder over the extraordinary events of the previous evening. when i did roll out, it was to enjoy another nice hot bath and an excellent breakfast. after that i occupied myself for some time by running over the various notes and calculations which i had made while i was with mcmurtrie, just in case i found it necessary to start the practical side of my work earlier than i expected. everything seemed right, and savagely anxious as i was to stay in town till i could find some clue to the mystery of george's treachery, i felt also an intense eagerness to get to grips with my new invention. i was positively hungry for a little work. the utter idleness, from any intelligent point of view, of my three years in prison, had been almost the hardest part of it to bear. at about a quarter to two i left the house, and making my way down on to the embankment set off for chelsea. it was a delightful day, warm and sunny as july; and this, combined with the fact that i was on my way to see tommy, lifted me into a most cheerful frame of mind. indeed i actually caught myself whistling--a habit which i don't think i had indulged in since my eventful visit to mr. marks. i looked up at george's house as i passed, but except for a black cat sunning herself on the top of the gatepost there was no sign of life about the place. my thoughts went back to joyce, and i wondered how the dinner party at the savoy had gone off. i could almost see george sitting at one side of the table with that insufferable air of gallantry and self-satisfaction that he always assumed in the presence of a pretty girl. poor, brave little joyce! if the pluck and loyalty of one's friends counted for anything, i was certainly as well off as any one in london. as i drew near florence mansions i felt a sort of absurd inclination to chuckle out loud. much as i disliked the thought of dragging tommy into my tangled affairs, the prospect of springing such a gorgeous surprise on him filled me with a mischievous delight. up till now, except for my arrest and sentence, i had never seen anything upset his superb self-possession in the slightest degree. a glance at the board in the hall as i turned in showed me that he had arrived. i marched along the passage till i came to his flat, and lifting the knocker gave a couple of sharp raps. there was a short pause; then i heard the sound of footsteps, and a moment later tommy himself opened the door. he was wearing the same dressing-gown that i remembered three years ago, and at the sight of his untidy hair and his dear old badly-shaved face i as nearly as possible gave the show away. pulling myself together with an effort, however, i made him a polite bow. "mr. morrison?" i inquired in my best assumed voice. "that's me all right," said tommy. "my name's nicholson," i said. "i am an artist. i was asked to look you up by a friend of yours--delacour of paris." i had mentioned a man for whose work i knew tommy entertained a profound respect. "oh, come in," he cried, swinging open the door and gripping my hand; "come in, old chap. delighted to see you. the place is in a hell of a mess, but you won't mind that. i've only just got back from sailing." he dragged me into the studio, which was in the same state of picturesque confusion as when i had last seen it, and pulling up a large easy-chair thrust me down into its capacious depths. "i'm awfully glad i was in," he went on. "i wouldn't have missed you for the world. how's old delacour? i haven't seen him for ages. i never get over to paris these days." "delacour's all right," i answered--"at least, as far as i know." tommy walked across the room to a corner cupboard. "you'll have a drink, won't you?" he asked; "there's whisky and brandy, and grand marnier, and i've got a bottle of port somewhere if you'd care for a glass." there was a short pause. then in my natural voice i remarked quietly and distinctly: "you were always a drunken old blackguard, tommy." the effect was immense. for a moment tommy remained perfectly still, his mouth open, his eyes almost starting out of his head. then quite suddenly he sat down heavily on the couch, clutching a bottle of whisky in one hand and a tumbler in the other. "well, i'm damned!" he whispered. "never mind, tommy," i said cheerfully; "you'll be in the very best society." chapter xiii regarding mr. bruce latimer for perhaps a second tommy remained motionless; then sitting up he removed the cork, and poured himself out about a quarter of a tumbler of neat spirit. he drained this off at a gulp, and put down both the glass and the bottle. "god deliver us!" he observed; "is it really you?" i nodded. "what's left of me, tommy." he jumped to his feet, and the next moment he was crushing my hands with a grip that would have broken some people's fingers. "you old ruffian!" he muttered; "i always said you'd do something like this. lord alive, it's good to see you, though!" then, pulling me up out of the chair, he caught me by the shoulders and stared incredulously into my face. "but what the devil's happened? what have you done to yourself?" "i know what i'm going to do to myself," i replied. "i am going to get outside some of that drink you were talking about--if there's any left." with something between a laugh and a choke he let me go, and crossing to the couch picked up the whisky and splashed out a generous tot into the glass. "here you are--and i'm hanged if i don't have another one myself. i believe i could drink the whole bottle without turning a hair." "i'm quite sure you could, tommy," i said, "unless you've deteriorated." we raised our tumblers and clinked them together with a force that cracked mine from the rim to the bottom. i drained off the contents, however, before they could escape, and flung the broken glass into the fireplace. "it would have been blasphemous to drink out of it again in any case," i said. with a big, happy laugh tommy followed my example. then he came up again and caught me by the arm, as though to make sure that i was still there. "neil, old son," he said, "i'm so glad to see you that i shall start wrecking the blessed studio in a minute. for god's sake tell me what it all means." "sit down, then," i said; "sit down and give me a chance. it's--it's a hell of a yarn, tommy." he laughed again, and letting go my arm threw himself back into the easy-chair. "it would be," he said. i always have a feeling that i can talk better when i am on my feet, and so, while tommy sat there puffing out great clouds of smoke from a huge cherry-wood pipe, i paced slowly up and down the room giving him my story. like joyce, he listened to me without saying a word or interrupting me in any way. i told him everything that had happened from the moment when i had escaped from prison to the time when i had given my promise that i would come and look him up. "i couldn't help it, tommy," i finished. "i didn't want to drag you in, but you know what joyce is when she has once made up her mind about anything. i thought the only way was to come and see you. between us--" i got no further, for with a sudden exclamation--it sounded more like a growl than anything else--tommy had risen from his chair. "and do you mean to tell me that, if it hadn't been for joyce, you wouldn't have come! by gad, neil, if i wasn't so glad to see you i'd--i'd--" words failed him, and gripping hold of my hands again he wrung them with a force that made me wince. then, suddenly dropping them, he started to stride about the room. "lord, what a yarn!" he exclaimed. "what a hell of a yarn!" "well, i told you it was," i said, nursing my crushed fingers. "i knew something had happened. i knew at least that you weren't going to be taken alive; but this--" he stopped short in front of me and once more gazed incredulously into my face. "i wouldn't know you from the angel gabriel!" he added. "except that he's clean shaven," i said. then i paused. "look here, tommy," i went on seriously, "what are we going to do about joyce? i'm all right, you see. there's nothing to prevent me clearing out of the country directly i've finished with mcmurtrie. if i choose to go and break george's neck, that's my own business. i am not going to have you and joyce mixed up in the affair." tommy sat down on the edge of the table. "my dear chap," he said slowly, "do you understand anything about joyce at all? do you realize that ever since the trial she has had only one idea in her mind--to get you out of prison? she has lived for nothing else the last three years. all this palmistry business was entirely on your account. she wanted to make money and get to know people who could help her, and she's done it--done it in the most astounding way. when she found it was too soon for your sentence to be altered she even made up some mad plan of taking a cottage near the prison and bribing one of the warders with that eight hundred pounds you left her. it was all i could do to put her off by telling her that you would probably be shot trying to get away. is it likely she'll chuck the whole thing up now, just when there's really a chance of helping you?" "but there isn't a chance," i objected. "if we couldn't find out the truth at the trial it's not likely we shall now--unless i choke it out of george. besides, it's quite possible that even he doesn't know who really killed marks. he may only have lied about me for some reason of his own." tommy nodded impatiently. "that's likely enough, but it's all my eye to say we can't help you. there are a hundred ways in which you'll want friends. to start with, all this business of mcmurtrie's, or whatever his name is, sounds devilish queer to me. i don't believe his yarn any more than you do. there's something shady about it, you can be certain. when are you supposed to start work?" i looked at the clock. "i shall know in about an hour," i said. "i forgot to tell you that when i came back from joyce's yesterday i found a note--i suppose from them--saying that i should have a message or a visitor at five o'clock today, and would i be good enough to be home at that time. at least it wasn't put quite so politely." then i paused. "good lord!" i exclaimed, "that reminds me. i haven't told you the most amazing part of the whole yarn." i put my hand in my pocket and pulled out the card which had been sent me in the restaurant. "have you ever heard of a man called bruce latimer?" i asked. to my amazement tommy nodded his head. "bruce latimer," he repeated. "yes, i know _a_ bruce latimer?--lives in jermyn street. what's he got to do with it?" "you know him!" i almost shouted. "yes, slightly. he belongs to the athenians. he used to do a lot of sailing at one time, but i haven't seen him down there this year." "who is he? what is he?" i demanded eagerly. "well, i don't know exactly. he's in some government office, i believe, but he's not the sort of chap who ever talks about his own affairs. where on earth did you come across him?" as quickly as possible i told tommy the story of my visit to parelli's, and showed him the card which latimer had sent me by the waiter. he took it out of my hand, looking at me with a sort of half-sceptical amazement. "you're not joking?" he said. "this is gospel truth you're telling me?" i nodded. "humour's a bit out of my line nowadays, tommy," i answered. "the dartmoor climate doesn't seem to suit it." "but--but--" he stared for a moment at the card without speaking. "well, this beats everything," he exclaimed. "what in god's name can bruce latimer have to do with your crowd?" "that," i remarked, "is exactly what i want to find out." "find out!" repeated tommy. "we'll find out right enough. do you think he guessed who it was that sent the note?" "most likely he did," i said. "i was the nearest person, but in any case he only saw my back. you can't recognize a man from his back." tommy took two or three steps up and down the studio. "_you_ mustn't go and see him," he said at last--"that's quite certain. you can't afford to mix yourself up in a business of this sort." "no," i said reluctantly, "but all the same i should very much like to know what's at the bottom of it." "suppose i take it on, then?" suggested tommy. "what could you say?" i asked. "i should tell him that it was a friend of mine--an artist who was going abroad the next day--who had seen it happen, and that he'd given me the card and asked me to explain. it's just possible latimer would take me into his confidence. he would either have to do that or else pretend that the whole thing was a joke." "i'm quite sure there was no joke about it," i said. "whether the chap with the scar belongs to mcmurtrie's crowd or not, i'm as certain as i am that i'm standing here that he drugged that wine. he may not have meant to murder latimer, but it looks uncommon fishy." "it looks even fishier than you think," answered tommy. "i'd forgotten for the moment, when you asked about him, but i remember now that some fellow at the athenians once told me that latimer was supposed to be a secret-service man of some kind." "a secret-service man!" i repeated incredulously. "i didn't know we went in for such luxuries in this country except in novels. do you believe it?" "i didn't pay much attention at the time--i thought it was probably all rot--but this business--" he stopped, and thrusting his hands into his pockets, again paced slowly up and down the room. i gave a thoughtful whistle. "by jove, tommy!" i said; "if that's a fact and the gentleman with the scar is really one of our crowd, i seem to have dropped in for a rather promising time--don't i! i knew i was up against the police, but it's a sort of cheerful surprise to find that i'm taking on the secret service as well." tommy pulled up short. "look here, neil!" he said. "i don't like it; i'm hanged if i do. there's some rotten dirty work going on somewhere; that's as plain as a pikestaff. i believe these people are simply using you as a cats-paw. all they want is to get hold of the secret of this new explosive of yours; then as likely as not they'll hand you over to the police, or else...." he paused. "well, you've seen the sort of crowd they are. it may be all rot about latimer being in the secret service, but there's no doubt they tried to poison or drug him last night. men who will go as far as that wouldn't stick at getting rid of you if it happened to suit their book." i nodded. "that's all true enough, tommy," i said; "but what am i to do? i took the bargain on, and i've no choice now except to go through with it. i can't walk up to a policeman and say i think dr. mcmurtrie is a dangerous person engaged on some sort of illegal enterprise." tommy came up, and laid his hand on my shoulder. "drop it, neil; chuck the whole thing and go to america. joyce has got that eight hundred pounds of yours; and i can easily let you have another two or three. in six months' time you'll be able to make as much money as you choose. you've had three years of hell; what's the good of running any risks that you can avoid? if there's the least faintest chance of getting at the truth, you can be certain i'll do it. don't go and smash up all the rest of your life over this cursed business. what does it matter if all the fools in england think you killed marks? he deserved to be killed anyway--the swine! leave them to think, and clear off to some country where you can start fresh and fair again. it doesn't matter the least where you go to, you're bound to come to the top." it was about the longest speech i had ever heard tommy make, and certainly the most eloquent. for a moment indeed i was almost tempted to take his advice. then the thought of george and all the complicated suffering that i had been through rose up like a wall across my mind. "no," i said firmly; "i'm damned if i'll go. i'll see this out if it means the end of everything." as i spoke there came a sharp "ting" from the clock on the mantelpiece, and looking up i saw that it was half-past four. "by gad, tommy," i added, "i must go from here, though. i've got to be back at edith terrace by five o'clock, or i shall miss this mysterious visitor." "you're coming back here afterwards?" he asked. i nodded. "if i can. i haven't the least notion how long they'll keep me, but i told joyce i would come round and let you know what had happened." "good," said tommy. "don't be longer than you can help. i'll get in something to eat, and we'll all have supper together--you and i and joyce, and then we can have a good jaw afterwards. there are still tons of things i want to know about." he thrust his arm through mine and walked with me to the door of the flat. "by the way, thomas," i said, "i suppose the police aren't watching your place, just on the off-chance of my rolling up. they must remember you were rather a particular pal of mine." "i don't think so," he answered. "they may have had a man on when you first escaped, but if so he must have got fed up with the job by now. don't you worry in any case. your guardian angel wouldn't recognize you in that get up--let alone a policeman." "if there's any justice," i said, "my guardian angel got the sack three years ago." with this irreverent remark, i shook his hand, and walking down the passage passed out on to the embankment. having a good two miles to cover and only five-and-twenty minutes to do it in, it struck me that driving would be the most agreeable method of getting home. i hesitated for a moment between a taxi and a motor bus, deciding in favour of the latter chiefly from motives of sentiment. i had not been on one since my arrest, and besides that the idea of travelling along the streets in open view of the british public rather appealed to me. since my interview with tommy i was beginning to feel the most encouraging confidence in mcmurtrie's handiwork. so, turning up beaufort street, i jumped on to a "red victoria" at the corner, and making my way upstairs, sat down on one of the front seats. it was the first time i had been down the king's road by daylight, and the sight of all the old familiar landmarks was as refreshing as rain in the desert. twice i caught a glimpse of some one whom i had known in the old days--one man was murgatroyd, the black and white artist, and the other doctor o'hara, the good-natured irish medico who had once set a broken finger for me. the latter was coming out of his house as we passed, and i felt a mischievous longing to jump off the bus and introduce myself to him, just to see what he would do. at the corner of sloane square i had an unexpected and rather dramatic reminder of my celebrity. as we emerged from the king's road a procession of five or six sandwich-men suddenly appeared from the direction of symons street, shuffling dejectedly along at intervals of a few yards. they were carrying double boards, on which, boldly printed in red-and-black letters, stared the following announcement: madame tussaud's marylebone road neil lyndon a lifelike portrait i gazed down at them with a sort of fascinated interest. somehow or other it seemed rather like reading one's own tombstone, and i couldn't help wondering whether i was in the main hall or whether i had been dignified with an eligible site in the chamber of horrors. if it hadn't been for my appointment i should most certainly have taken a cab straight up to marylebone road in order to find out. promising myself that treat on the morrow, i stuck to my seat, and at ten minutes to five by the station clock we drew up outside victoria. i got off and walked briskly along to edith terrace. turning the corner of the street, i observed the figure of miss gertie 'uggins leaning against the front railings, apparently engaged in conversation with an errand boy on the other side of the road. as soon as she recognized me she dived down the area steps, reappearing at the front door just as i reached the house. "i was watchin' for yer," she remarked in a hoarse whisper. "there's summun wants to see yer in there." she jerked her thumb towards the sitting-room. "it's a lidy," she added. "a lady!" i said. "what sort of a lady?" "ow! a reel lidy. she's got a lovely 'at." "is she young and dark and rather nice to look at?" i asked. gertie nodded. "that's 'er. she wouldn't give no nime, but that's 'er right enough." i didn't wait to ask any more questions, but putting down my hat on the hall table, i walked up to the sitting-room and tapped lightly on the door. "come in," called out a voice. i turned the handle, and the next moment i was face to face with sonia. chapter xiv a summons from dr. mcmurtrie she had risen from the sofa as i entered and was standing in the centre of the room. the neatly cut, close-fitting dress that she was wearing suited her dark beauty to perfection and showed off the lines of her lithe, slender figure. she gave me a curious momentary impression of some sort of graceful wild animal. "ah!" she exclaimed softly. "i am glad you weren't late. i have to go away quite soon." i took the hand she held out to me. "my dear sonia," i said, "why didn't you let me know that you were going to be the visitor?" "i didn't know myself," she answered. "the doctor meant to come, but he was called away unexpectedly this afternoon, so he sent me instead. i have got a letter for you from him." she let go my fingers gently, and picking up her bag which was lying on the table, opened it and took out an envelope. "shall i read it now?" i asked. she nodded. i slit up the flap and pulled out a folded sheet of foolscap from inside. it was in mcmurtrie's handwriting, but there was no date and no address. "dear mr. nicholson, "all the necessary arrangements have now been made with regard to your workshop at tilbury. it is situated on the marshes close to the river, three miles east of the town and a mile to the west of cunnock creek. you can reach it either by the main road which runs half a mile inland, or by walking along the saltings under the sea-wall. "you cannot mistake the place, as it is an absolutely isolated building, consisting of a small cabin or hut, with a large shed attached for your work. it is not luxurious, but we have at least fitted up the interior of your living-room as comfortably as possible, and you will find in the shed everything that you specified in your list as being necessary for your experiments. "i should be glad if you would arrange to go down there and start work the day after tomorrow. there is a train from fenchurch street to tilbury at . in the morning, and if you will catch that i will see that there is a trap to meet you at the station and drive you out along the road as near to the place as it is possible to get. this hardly gives you the full week in london which you wished for, but circumstances have arisen that make it of great importance to us to be able to place your invention on the market as quickly as possible. from your own point of view the sooner the work is done the sooner you will be in possession of funds, and so able to make any use of your liberty you choose. "sonia has the keys of the building, and will give them you with this letter. "while you are working at the hut, it will be better, i think, if you stay entirely on the premises. i believe you will find everything you want in the way of food and cooking materials, and you will, of course, take down your own personal belongings with you. in the event of anything you really need having been forgotten, you can always walk into tilbury, but i should strongly advise you not to do so, except in a case of absolute necessity. apart from any danger of your being recognized, we are extremely anxious that no one connected with the powder trade should have the least idea that experiments are being conducted with regard to a new explosive. a large part of the immediate value of your invention will consist in its coming on the market as an absolute surprise. "i have been unexpectedly called away for a few days, but directly i return i shall come down to tilbury and see you. should you wish to communicate with me in the interval, you can do so by writing or wiring to me at the hotel russell, london, w.c. "i hope that you have enjoyed your well-earned if rather long-delayed holiday. "your sincere friend, "l.j. mcmurtrie." i finished reading and slowly refolded the letter. "you know what this is about, of course, sonia?" i said. she nodded again. "they want you to go down there at once. you must do it; you must do everything you are told just at present." "i ought to be able to manage that," i said grimly. "i've had plenty of practice the last three years." with a swift, silent movement she came up to me and put her hands on my arm. "you must trust me," she said, speaking in that low passionate voice of hers. "you know that i love you; you know that i am only waiting for the right time to act. when it comes i will give you a chance such as few men have had--a chance that will mean wealth and freedom and--and--love." she breathed out the last word almost in a whisper, and then, raising her hands to my shoulders, drew down my face and pressed her lips to mine. i have no dislike to being kissed by a beautiful woman; indeed, on the previous occasion when sonia had so honoured me i had distinctly enjoyed the experience. this time, however, i felt a trifle uncomfortable. i had a kind of unpleasant sensation that somehow or other i was not quite playing the game. still, as i have said elsewhere, an escaped convict cannot afford to be too nice in his emotions, so i returned her kiss with the same readiness and warmth as i had done before. then, straightening myself, i unlaced her arms from my neck, and looked down smilingly into those strange dark eyes that were turned up to mine. "i'm a poor sort of host," i said, "but you see i am a little out of training. won't you have some tea or anything, sonia?" "no, no," she answered quickly. "i don't want anything. i must go in a minute; i have to meet my father with the car." then, taking my hand between hers, she added: "tell me what you have been doing yourself. have you seen your cousin--the man who lied about you at the trial? i have been afraid about him; i have been afraid that you would kill him and perhaps be found out." "there's no hurry about it," i said. "it's rather pleasant to have something to look forward to." "but you have seen him?" i nodded. "i had the pleasure of walking behind him for a couple of miles yesterday. he looks a little worried, but quite well otherwise." she laughed softly. "ah, you can afford to let him wait. and the girl, joyce? have you seen her?" she asked the question quite dispassionately, and yet in some curious way i had a sudden vague feeling of menace and danger. anyhow, i lied as readily and instinctively as ananias. "no," i said. "george is the only part of my past that interests me now." i thought i saw the faintest possible expression of satisfaction flicker across her face, but if so it was gone immediately. "sonia," i said, "there is a question i want to ask you. am i developing nerves, or have i really been watched and followed since i came to london?" she looked at me steadily. "what makes you think so?" she asked. "well," i said, "it may be only my imagination, but i have an idea that a gentleman with a scar on his face has been taking a rather affectionate interest in my movements." for a moment she hesitated; then with a rather scornful little laugh she shrugged her shoulders. "i told them it was unnecessary!" she said. i crushed down the exclamation that nearly rose to my lips. so the man with the scar _was_ one of mcmurtrie's emissaries, after all, and his dealings with mr. bruce latimer most certainly did concern me. the feeling that i was entangled in some unknown network of evil and mystery came back to me with redoubled force. "i hope the report was satisfactory," i said lightly. sonia nodded. "they only wanted to make certain that you had gone to edith terrace. i don't think you were followed after the first night." "no," i said, "i don't think i was." precisely how much the boot had been on the opposite foot it seemed unnecessary to add. sonia walked to the table and again opened her bag. "i mustn't stay any longer--now," she said. "i have to meet the car at six o'clock. here are the keys." she took them out and came across to where i was standing. "good-bye, sonia," i said, taking her hands in mine. "no, no," she whispered; "don't say that: i hate the word. listen, neil. i am coming to you again, down there, when we shall be alone--you and i together. i don't know when it will be, but soon--ah, just as soon as i can. i can't help you, not in the way i mean to, until you have finished your work, but i will come to you, and--and...." her voice failed, and lowering her head she buried her face in my coat. i bent down, and in a moment her lips met mine in another long, passionate kiss. it was hard to see how i could have acted otherwise, but all the same i didn't feel exactly proud of myself. indeed, it was in a state of very mixed emotions that i came back into the house after we had walked together as far as the corner of the street. the mere fact of my having found out for certain that the man with the scar was an agent of mcmurtrie's was enough in itself to give me food for pretty considerable thought. any suspicions i may have had as to the genuineness of the doctor's story were now amply confirmed. i was not intimately acquainted with the working methods of the high explosives trade, but it seemed highly improbable that they could involve the drugging or poisoning of government officials in public restaurants. as tommy had forcibly expressed it, there was some "damned shady work" going on somewhere or other, and for all sonia's comforting assurances concerning my own eventual prosperity, i felt that i was mixed up in about as sinister a mystery as even an escaped murderer could very well have dropped into. the thought of sonia brought me back to the question of our relations. i could hardly doubt now that she loved me with all the force of her strange, sullen, passionate nature, and that for my sake she was preparing to take some pretty reckless step. what this was remained to be seen, but that it amounted to a practical betrayal of her father and mcmurtrie seemed fairly obvious from the way in which she had spoken. from the point of view of my own interests, it was an amazing stroke of luck that she should have fallen in love with me, and yet somehow or other i felt distinctly uncomfortable about it. i seemed to be taking an unfair advantage of her, though how on earth i was to avoid doing so was a question which i was quite unable to solve. i certainly couldn't afford to quarrel with her, and she was hardly the sort of girl to accept anything in the nature of a disappointment to her affections in exactly a philosophic frame of mind. i was still pondering over this rather delicate problem, when there came a knock at the door, and in answer to my summons gertie 'uggins inserted her head. "the lidy's gorn?" she observed, looking inquiringly round the room. i nodded. "there is no deception, gertrude," i said. "you can search the coal-scuttle if you like." she wriggled the rest of her body in round the doorway. "mrs. oldbury sent me up to ask if you'd be wantin' dinner." "no," i said; "i am going out." gertie nodded thoughtfully. "taikin' 'er, i s'pose?" "to be quite exact," i said, "i am dining with another lady." there was a short pause. then, with an air of some embarrassment gertie broke the silence. '"ere," she said: "you know that five bob you give me?" "yes," i said. "well, i ain't spendin' it on no dinner--see. i'm goin' to buy a 'at wiv it--a 'at like 'ers: d'yer mind?" "i do mind," i said severely. "that money was intended for your inside, gertie, not your outside. you have your dinner, and i'll buy you a new hat myself." she clasped her hands together. "ow!" she cried. "yer mean it? yer reely mean it?" "i never joke," i said, "on sacred subjects." then to my dismay she suddenly began to cry. "you ain't 'alf--'alf bin good to me," she jerked out. "no one ain't never bin good to me like you. i'd--i'd do anyfink for you." "in that case," i said, "you may give me my hat--and cheer up." she obeyed both commands, and then, still sniffing, valiantly marched to the front door and opened it for me to go out. "goo'-night, sir," she said. "good-night, gertrude," i replied; and leaving her standing on the step i set off down the street. whatever else prison might have done for me, it certainly seemed to have given me a capacity for making friends. i reached florence court at about a quarter to seven, keeping a sharp lookout along the embankment as i approached for any sign of a loitering detective. except for one aged gentleman, however, who seemed to be wholly occupied in spitting in the thames, the stretch in front of the studios was absolutely deserted. glancing at the board in the hall as i entered, i saw that "mr. morrison" and "miss vivien" were both "in"--a statement which in tommy's case was confirmed a moment later by his swift appearance at the door in answer to my knock. "mr. morrison, i believe?" i said. he seized me by the arm and dragged me inside. "this is fine. i never thought you'd be back as quick as this. are things all right?" "i should hardly go as far as that," i said. "but we seem to be getting along quite nicely." he nodded. "good! i just want a wash, and then we'll go right in to joyce's place. we are going to have supper there, and you can tell us all about it while we're feeding." he splashed out some water into a basin in the corner of the studio, and made his ablutions with a swiftness that reminded me of some of my own toilets in the grey twilight of a dartmoor dawn. tommy was never a man who wasted much trouble over the accessories of life. "come along," he said, flinging down the towel on the sofa. "joyce will be dying to hear what's happened!" i turned towards the hall, but he suddenly put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me back. "not that way. we've a private road now--runs along the back of the studios." he crossed the room, and opened a door which led out into a narrow stone passage roofed in by glass. i followed him along this till we came to another door, on which tommy tapped twice with his knuckles. in a moment we heard a key turn and joyce was standing on the threshold. when she saw who it was she gave a little cry of welcome and held out both her hands. "but how nice!" she exclaimed. "i never thought you'd be here so soon." we had each taken a hand, and talking and laughing at the same time, she pulled us in after her and shut the door. "at last!" she cried softly; "at last!" and for a second or two we all three stood there just gripping each other's hands and not saying a word. it certainly was rather a good feeling. tommy was the first to break the silence. "damn it," he said huskily, "if neil didn't look so exactly like a brigand chief i believe i should blubber. eh, joyce--how do you feel?" "i feel all right," said joyce. "and he doesn't look a bit like a brigand chief. he looks splendid." she stood back and surveyed me with a sort of tender proprietorship. "i suppose we shall get used to it," remarked tommy. "it nearly gave me heart disease to begin with." then, going and locking the side door, he added cheerfully, "i vote we have supper at once. i've had nothing except whisky since i came off the boat." "well, there's heaps to eat," said joyce. "i've been out marketing in the king's road." "what have you got?" demanded tommy hungrily. joyce ticked them off with her fingers. "there's a cold chicken and salad, some stuffed olives--those are for you, neil, you always used to like them--a piece of stilton cheese and a couple of bottles of champagne. they're all in the kitchen, so come along both of you and help me get them." "where's the faithful clara?" asked tommy. "i've sent her out for the evening. i didn't want any one to be here except just us three." we all trooped into joyce's tiny kitchen and proceeded to carry back our supper into the studio, where we set it out on the table in the centre. we were so ridiculously happy that for some little time our conversation was inclined to be a trifle incoherent: indeed, it was not until we had settled down round the table and tommy had knocked the head off the first bottle of champagne with the back of his knife that we in any way got back to our real environment. it was joyce who brought about the change. "i keep on feeling i shall wake up in a minute," she said, "and find out that it's all a dream." "put it off as long as possible," said tommy gravely. "it would be rotten for neil to find himself back in dartmoor before he'd finished his champagne." "i don't know when i shall get any more as it is," i said. "i've got to start work the day after tomorrow." there was a short pause: joyce pushed away her plate and leaned forward, her eyes fixed on mine; while tommy stretched out his arm and filled up my glass. "go on," he said. "what's happened?" in as few words as possible i told them about my interview with sonia, and showed them the letter which she had brought me from mcmurtrie. they both read it--joyce first and then tommy, the latter tossing it back with a grunt that was more eloquent than any possible comment. "it's too polite," he said. "it's too damn' polite altogether. you can see they're up to some mischief." "i am afraid they are, tommy," i said; "and it strikes me that it must be fairly useful mischief if we're right about mr. bruce latimer. by the way, does joyce know?" tommy nodded. "she's right up to date: i've told her everything. the question is, how much has that affair got to do with us? it's quite possible, if they're the sort of scoundrels they seem to be, that they might be up against the secret service in some way quite apart from their dealings with you." "by jove, tommy!" i exclaimed, "i never thought of that. one's inclined to get a bit egotistical when one's an escaped murderer." "it was joyce's idea," admitted tommy modestly, "but it's quite likely there's something in it. of course we've no proof at present one way or the other. what do you think this girl--what's her name--sonia--means to do?" i shrugged my shoulders. "goodness knows," i said. "it looks as if there was a chance of making a big immediate profit on my invention, and that she intended me to scoop it in instead of her father and mcmurtrie. i can't think of anything else." tommy pulled up a fresh plate and helped himself to some cheese. "she must be pretty keen on you," he observed. "well, you needn't rub it in, tommy," i said. "i feel quite enough of a cad as it is." "you're not," interrupted joyce indignantly. "if she really loves you, of course she wants to help you whether you love her or not." "still, she'll expect a _quid pro quo_," persisted tommy. "then it isn't love," returned joyce scornfully, "and in that case there's no need to bother about her." this seemed a most logical point of view, and i determined to adopt it for the future if my conscience would allow me. "what about your invention?" asked tommy. "how long will it take you to work it out?" "well, as a matter of fact," i said, "it is worked out--as much as any invention can be without being put to a practical test. i was just on that when the smash came. i had actually made some of the powder and proved its power, but i'd never tried it on what one might call a working basis. if they've given me all the things i want, i don't see any reason why i shouldn't fix it up in two or three days. there's no real difficulty in its manufacture. i wasn't too definite with mcmurtrie. i thought it best to give myself a little margin." tommy nodded. "you've handled the whole thing splendidly up till now," he said. "i rather think it's the ticklish part that's coming, though." then he paused. "look here!" he added suddenly. "i've got a great notion. why shouldn't we run down tomorrow in the _betty_ and have a squint at this place of yours? there's nothing like taking a few soundings when you're not too sure about things." i drew in a deep breath. "i'd love to, tommy," i said, "but it's rather asking for trouble, isn't it? suppose there was still someone about there? if mcmurtrie had the faintest idea i'd given away the show--" "he won't," interrupted tommy; "he can't. we'll take precious good care of that. listen here: i've got the whole thing mapped out in my mind. the _betty's_ at leigh, where i laid her up yesterday. i had a seven-horse-power kelvin engine put in her last year, so we can get up, whatever the wind is--i know the tide will be about right. well, my idea is that we three go down to leigh tomorrow morning and take her up to this place cunnock creek, or somewhere near. then if it's all serene you can land and have a look round; if there seems to be any one about we can just push off again. joyce and i won't show up at all, anyway: we'll stop on board and let you do the scouting." "yes, yes," exclaimed joyce, her eyes shining eagerly. "let's go. it can't do any harm, and you might find out all sorts of useful things." "besides," added tommy, "it would be the deuce of a day, and it's a long time since any of us had a good day, eh, joyce?" "three years," said joyce quietly. that decided me. "right you are," i said. "you're--you're something like pals, you two." we clinched the arrangement with a grip, and then joyce, jumping up from the table, crossed the room to a small writing-desk. "i've got a time-table somewhere here," she said, "so we can look out the train right away." "it's all right," said tommy. "i know 'em backwards. we'll catch the nine-five from fenchurch street. it's low water at eight-thirty, so that will get us in about the right time. we can leave the _betty_ at tilbury or gravesend afterwards, and come back by train from there. we'll be home for dinner or supper or something." joyce nodded. "that will just do," she said. "i am going out again with george in the evening. oh, i haven't told either of you about last night--have i?" i shook my head. "no," i said, "but in any case i wish you'd drop that part of it, joyce dear. i hate to think of you dining with george: it offends my sense of decency." she took an envelope out of the desk and came back to her place at the table. "i mean to drop it quite soon," she said calmly, "but i must go tomorrow. george is on the point of being rather interesting." she paused a moment. "he told me last night that he was expecting to get a cheque for twelve thousand pounds." "twelve thousand pounds!" i echoed in astonishment. "where the devil's he going to get it from?" demanded tommy. "that," said joyce, "is exactly what i mean to find out. you see george is at present under the impression that if he can convince me he is speaking the truth i am coming away with him for a yachting cruise in the mediterranean. well, tomorrow i am going to be convinced--and it will have to be done very thoroughly." tommy gave a long whistle. "i wonder what dog's trick he's up to now. he can't be getting the money straight: i know they've done nothing there the last year." "it would be interesting to find out," i admitted. "all the same, joyce, i don't see why you should do all the dirty work of the firm." "it's my job for the minute," said joyce cheerfully, "and none of the firm's work is dirty to me." she came across, and opening my coat, slipped the envelope which she had taken out of her desk into my inner pocket. "i got those out of the bank today," she said--"twenty five-pound notes. you had better take them before we forget: you're sure to want some money." then, before i could speak, she picked up the second bottle of champagne that tommy had just opened, and filled up all three glasses. "i like your description of us as the firm," she said; "don't you, tommy? let's all drink a health to it!" tommy jumped to his feet and held up his glass. "the firm!" he cried. "and may all the fools who sent neil to prison live to learn their idiocy!" i followed his example. "the firm!" i cried, "and may everyone in trouble have pals like you!" joyce thrust her arm through mine and rested her head against my shoulder. "the firm!" she said softly. then, with a little break in her voice, she added in a whisper: "and you don't really want sonia, do you, neil?" chapter xv a human "catch" it's not often that the weather in england is really appropriate to one's mood, but the sunshine that was streaming down into edith terrace as i banged the front door at half-past eight the next morning seemed to fit in exactly with my state of mind. i felt as cheerful as a schoolboy out for a holiday. apart altogether from the knowledge that i was going to spend a whole delightful day with tommy and joyce, the mere idea of getting on the water again was enough in itself to put me into the best of spirits. i stopped for a moment at the flower-stall outside victoria station to buy joyce a bunch of violets--she had always been fond of violets--and then calling up a taxi instructed the man to drive me to fenchurch street. i found tommy and joyce waiting for me on the platform. the former looked superbly disreputable in a very old and rather dirty grey flannel suit, while joyce, who was wearing a white serge skirt with a kind of green knitted coat, seemed beautifully in keeping with the sunshine outside. "hullo!" exclaimed tommy. "we were just getting the jim-jams about you. thought you'd eloped with sonia or something." i shook my head. "i never elope before midday," i said. "i haven't the necessary stamina." i offered joyce the bunch, which she took with a smile, giving my hand a little squeeze by way of gratitude. "you dear!" she said. "fancy your remembering that." "well, come along," said tommy. "this is the train all right; i've got the tickets and some papers." he opened the door of a first-class carriage just behind us, and we all three climbed in. "we shall have it to ourselves," he added. "no one ever travels first on this line except the port of london officials, and they don't get up till the afternoon." we settled ourselves down, tommy on one side and joyce and i on the other, and a minute later the train steamed slowly out of the station. joyce slipped her hand into mine, and we sat there looking out of the window over the sea of grey roofs and smoking chimney-stacks which make up the dreary landscape of east london. "have a paper?" asked tommy, holding out the _daily mail_. "no, thanks, tommy," i said. "i'm quite happy as i am. you can tell us the news if there is any." he opened the sheet and ran his eye down the centre page. "there's nothing much in it," he said, "bar this german business. no one seems to know what's going to happen about that. i wonder what the kaiser thinks he's playing at. he can't be such a fool as to want to fight half europe." "how is the navy these days?" i asked. "one doesn't worry about trifles like that in dartmoor." "oh, we're all right," replied tommy cheerfully. "the germans haven't got a torpedo to touch yours yet, and we're still a long way ahead of 'em in ships. we could wipe them off the sea in a week if they came out to fight." "well, that's comforting," i said. "i don't want them sailing up the thames till i've finished. i've no use for a stray shell in my line of business." "i tell you what i'm going to do, neil," said tommy. "i was thinking it over in bed last night after you'd gone. if there is any possible sort of anchorage for a boat in this cunnock creek i shall leave the _betty_ there. it's only a mile from your place, and then either joyce or i can come down and see you without running the risk of being spotted by your charming pals. besides, at a pinch it might be precious handy for you. if things got too hot on shore you could always slip away by water. it's not as if you were dependent on the tides. now i've had this little engine put in her she'll paddle off any old time--provided you can get the blessed thing to start." "you're a brick, tommy," i said gratefully. "there's nothing i'd like better. but as for you and joyce coming down--" "of course we shall come down," interrupted joyce. "i shall come just as soon as i can. who do you think is going to look after you and do your cooking?" "good lord, joyce!" i said. "i'm in much too tight a corner to worry about luxuries." "that's no reason why you should be uncomfortable," said joyce calmly. "i shan't come near you in the day, while you're working. i shall stay on the _betty_ and cook dinner for you in the evening, and then as soon as it's dark you can shut up the place and slip across to the creek. oh, it will be great fun--won't it, tommy?" tommy laughed. "i think so," he said; "but i suppose there are people in the world who might hold a different opinion." then he turned to me. "it's all right, neil. we'll give you two or three clear days to see how the land lies and shove along with your work. joyce has got to find out where george is getting that cheque from, and i mean to look up latimer and sound him about his dinner at parelli's. you'll be quite glad to see either of us by that time." "glad!" i echoed. "i shall be so delighted, i shall probably blow myself up. it's you two i'm thinking of. the more i see of this job the more certain i am there's something queer about it, and if there's going to be any trouble down there i don't want you and joyce dragged into it." "we shan't want much dragging," returned tommy. "as far as the firm's business goes we're all three in the same boat. we settled that last night." "so there's nothing more to be said," added joyce complacently. i looked from one to the other. then i laughed and shrugged my shoulders. "no," i said, "i suppose there isn't." through the interminable slums of plaistow and east ham we drew out in the squalid region of barking creek, and i looked down on the mud and the dirty brown water with a curious feeling of satisfaction. it was like meeting an old friend again after a long separation. the lower thames, with its wharves, its warehouses, and its never-ceasing traffic, had always had a strange fascination for me; and in the old days, when i wanted to come to town from leigh or port victoria, i had frequently sailed my little six-tonner, the _penguin_, right up as far as the tower bridge. i could remember now the utter amazement with which george had always regarded this proceeding. "are you feeling pretty strong this morning?" asked tommy, breaking a long silence. "the _betty's_ lying out in the ray, and the only way of getting at her will be to tramp across the mud. there's no water for another four hours. we shall have to take turns carrying joyce." "you won't," said joyce. "i shall take off my shoes and stockings and tramp too. i suppose you've got some soap on board." "you'll shock leigh terribly if you do," said tommy. "it's a beautiful respectable place nowadays--all villas and trams and picture palaces--rather like a bit of upper tooting." "it doesn't matter," said joyce. "i've got very nice feet and ankles, and i'm sure it's much less immoral than being carried in turns. don't you think so, neil?" "certainly," i said gravely. "no properly-brought-up girl would hesitate for a moment." we argued over the matter at some length: tommy maintaining that he was the only one of the three who knew anything about the minds of really respectable people--a contention which joyce and i indignantly disputed. as far as i can remember, we were still discussing the point when the train ran into leigh station and pulled up at the platform. "here you are," said tommy, handing me a basket. "you freeze on to this; it's our lunch. i want to get a couple more cans of paraffin before we go on board. there is some, but it's just as well to be on the safe side." we left the station, and walking a few yards down the hill, pulled up at a large wooden building which bore the dignified title of "marine and yachting stores." here tommy invested in the paraffin and one or two other trifles he needed, and then turning off down some slippery stone steps, we came out on the beach. before us stretched a long bare sweep of mud and sand, while out beyond lay the ray channel, with a number of small boats and fishing-smacks anchored along its narrow course. "there's the _betty_," said tommy, pointing to a smart-looking little clinker-built craft away at the end of the line. "i've had her painted since you saw her last." "and from what i remember, tommy," i said, "she wanted it--badly." joyce seated herself on a baulk of timber and began composedly to take off her shoes and stockings. "how deep does one sink in?" she asked. "i don't want to get this skirt dirtier than i can help." "you'll be all right if you hold it well up," said tommy, "unless we happen to strike a quicksand." "well, you must go first," said joyce, "then if we do, neil and i can step on you." tommy chuckled, and sitting down on the bank imitated joyce's example, rolling his trousers up over the knee. i followed suit, and then, gathering up our various belongings, we started off gingerly across the mud. tommy led the way, his shoes slung over his shoulder, and a tin of paraffin in each hand. he evidently knew the lie of the land, for he picked out the firmest patches with remarkable dexterity, keeping on looking back to make sure that joyce and i were following in his footsteps. it was nasty, sloppy walking at the best, however, for every step one took one went in with a squelch right up to the ankle, and i think we had all had pretty well enough by the time we reached the boat. poor joyce, indeed, was so exhausted that she had to sit down on the lunch basket, while tommy and i, by means of wading out into the channel, managed to get hold of the dinghy. our first job on getting aboard was to wash off the mud. we sat in a row along the deck with our feet over the side; tommy flatly refusing to allow us any farther until we were all properly cleaned. then, while joyce was drying herself and putting on her shoes and stockings, he and i went down into the cabin and routed out a bottle of whisky and a siphon of soda from somewhere under the floor. "what we want," he observed, "is a good stiff peg all round"; and the motion being carried unanimously as far as joyce and i were concerned, three good stiff pegs were accordingly despatched. "that's better," said tommy with a sigh. "now we're on the safe side. there's many a good yachtsman died of cold through neglecting these simple precautions." then jumping up and looking round he added cheerfully: "we shall be able to sail the whole way up; the wind's dead east and likely to stay there." "i suppose you'll take her out on the engine," i said. "this is a nice useful ditch, but there doesn't seem to be much water in it for fancy work." tommy nodded. "you go and get in the anchor," he said, "and i'll see if i can persuade her to start. she'll probably break my arm, but that's a detail." he opened a locker at the back of the well, and squatted down in front of it, while i climbed along the deck to the bows and proceeded to hand in several fathoms of wet and slimy chain. i had scarcely concluded this unpleasant operation, when with a sudden loud hum the engine began working, and the next moment we were slowly throbbing our way forwards down the centre of the channel. the ray runs right down to southend pier, but there are several narrow openings out of it connecting with the river. through one of these tommy steered his course, bringing us into the main stream a few hundred yards down from where we had been lying. then, turning her round, he handed the tiller over to joyce, and clambered up alongside of me on to the roof of the cabin. "come on, neil," he said. "i've had enough of this penny steamer business. let's get out the sails and shove along like gentlemen." the _betty's_ rig was not a complicated one. it consisted of a mainsail, a jib, and a spinnaker, and in a very few minutes we had set all three of them and were bowling merrily upstream with the dinghy bobbing and dipping behind us. tommy jumped down and switched off the engine, while joyce, resigning the tiller to me, climbed up and seated herself on the boom of the mainsail. she had taken off her hat, and her hair gleamed in the sunshine like copper in the firelight. i don't think we did much talking for the first few miles: at least i know i didn't. there is no feeling in the way of freedom quite so fine as scudding along in a small ship with a good breeze behind you; and after being cooped up for three years in a prison cell i drank in the sensation like a man who has been almost dying of thirst might gulp down his first draught of water. the mere tug of the tiller beneath my hand filled me with a kind of fierce delight, while the splash of the water as it rippled past the sides of the boat seemed to me the bravest and sweetest music i had ever heard. i think joyce and tommy realized something of what i was feeling, for neither of them made any real attempt at conversation. now and then the latter would jump up to haul in or let out the main sheet a little, and once or twice he pointed out some slight alteration which had been recently made in the buoying of the river. joyce sat quite still for the most part, either smiling happily at me, or else watching the occasional ships and barges that we passed, most of which were just beginning to get under way. we had rounded canvey island and left hole haven some little distance behind us, when tommy, who was leaning over the side staring out ahead, suddenly turned back to me. "there's someone coming round the point in a deuce of a hurry," he remarked. "steam launch from the look of it. better give 'em a wide berth, or we'll have their wash aboard." i bent down and took a quick glance under the spinnaker boom. a couple of hundred yards ahead a long, white, vicious-looking craft was racing swiftly towards us, throwing up a wave on either side of her bows that spread out fanwise across the river. i shoved down the helm, and swung the _betty_ a little off her course so as to give them plenty of room to go by. they came on without slackening speed in the least, and passed us at a pace which i estimated roughly to be about sixteen knots an hour. i caught a momentary glimpse of a square-shouldered man with a close-trimmed auburn beard crouching in the stern, and then the next moment a wave broke right against our bows, drenching all three of us in a cloud of flying spray. tommy swore vigorously. "that's the kind of river-hog who ought to be choked," he said. "if i--" he was interrupted by a sudden exclamation from joyce. she had jumped up laughing when the spray swept over her, and now, holding on to the rigging, she was pointing excitedly to something just ahead of us. "quick, tommy!" she said. "there's a man in the water--drowning. they've swamped his boat." in a flash tommy had leaped to the side. "keep her going," he shouted to me. "we're heading straight for him." then scrambing aft he grabbed hold of the tow rope and swiftly hauled the dinghy alongside. "i'll pick him up, tommy," i said quietly. "you look after the boat: you know her better than i do." he nodded, and calling to joyce to take over the tiller sprang up on to the deck ready to lower the sails. i cast off the painter, all but one turn, and handing the end to joyce, told her to let it go as soon as i shouted. then, pulling the dinghy right up against the side of the boat, i waited my chance and dropped down into her. i was just getting out the sculls, when a sudden shout from tommy of "there he is!" made me look hurriedly round. about twenty yards away a man was splashing feebly in the water, making vain efforts to reach an oar that was floating close beside him. "let her go, joyce!" i yelled, and the next moment i was tugging furiously across the intervening space with the loose tow rope trailing behind me. i was only just in time. almost exactly as i reached the man he suddenly gave up struggling, and with a faint gurgling sort of cry disappeared beneath the water. i leaned out of the boat, and plunging my arm in up to the shoulder, clutched him by the collar. "no, you don't, bertie," i said cheerfully. "not this journey." it's a ticklish business dragging a half-drowned man into a dinghy without upsetting it, but by getting him down aft, i at last managed to hoist him up over the gunwale. he came in like some great wet fish, and i flopped him down in the stern sheets. then with a deep breath i sat down myself. i was feeling a bit pumped. for a moment or two my "catch" lay where he was, blowing, gasping, grunting, and spitting out mouthfuls of dirty water. he was a little weazened man of middle age, with a short grizzled beard. except for a pair of fairly new sea-boots, he was dressed in old nondescript clothes which could not have taken much harm even from the thames mud. indeed, on the whole, i should think their recent immersion had done them good. "well," i said encouragingly, "how do you feel?" with a big effort he raised himself on his elbow. "right enough, guv'nor," he gasped, "right enough." then, sinking back again, he added feebly: "if you see them oars o' mine, you might pick 'em up." there was a practical touch about this that rather appealed to me. i sat up, and, looking round, discovered the _betty_ about forty yards away. tommy had got the sails down and set the engine going, and he was already turning her round to come back and pick us up. i waved my hand to him--a greeting which he returned with a triumphant hail. standing up, i inspected the surrounding water for any sign of my guest's belongings. i immediately discovered both oars, which were drifting upstream quite close to one another and only a few yards away; but except for them there was no sign of wreckage. his boat and everything else in it had vanished as completely as a submarine. i salvaged the oars, however, and had just got them safely on board, when the _betty_ came throbbing up, and circled neatly round us. tommy, who was steering, promptly shut down the engine to its slowest pace, and reaching up i grabbed hold of joyce's hand, which she held out to me, and pulled the dinghy alongside. "very nice, tommy," i said. "lipton couldn't have done it better." "how's the poor man?" asked joyce, looking down pityingly at my prostrate passenger. at the sound of her voice the latter roused himself from his recumbent position, and made a shaky effort to sit up straight. "he'll be all right when he's got a little whisky inside him," i said. "come on, tommy; you catch hold, and i'll pass him over." i stooped down, and, taking him round the waist, lifted him right up over the gunwale of the _betty_, where tommy received him rather like a man accepting a sack of coals. then, catching hold of the tow rope, i jumped up myself, and made the dinghy fast to a convenient cleat. tommy dumped down his burden on one of the well seats. "you've had a precious narrow squeak, my friend," he observed pleasantly. the man nodded. "if you hadn't 'a come along as you did, sir, i'd 'ave bin dead by now--dead as a dog-fish." then turning round he shook his gnarled fist over the _betty's_ stern in the direction of the vanished launch. "sunk me wi' their blarsted wash," he quavered; "that's what they done." "well, accidents will happen," i said; "but they were certainly going much too fast." "accidents!" he repeated bitterly; "this warn't no accident. they done it a purpose--the dirty dutchmen." "sunk you deliberately!" exclaimed tommy. "what on earth makes you think that?" a kind of half-cunning, half-cautious look came into our visitor's face. "mebbe i knows too much to please 'em," he muttered, shaking his head. "mebbe they'd be glad to see old luke gow under the water." i thought for a moment that the shock of the accident had made him silly, but before i could speak joyce came out of the cabin carrying half a tumbler of neat whisky. "you get that down your neck," said tommy, "and you'll feel like a two-year-old." i don't know if whisky is really the correct antidote for thames water, but at all events our guest accepted the glass and shifted its contents without a quiver. as soon as he had finished tommy took him by the arm and helped him to his feet. "now come along into the cabin," he said, "and i'll see if i can fix you up with some dry kit." then turning to me he added: "you might get the sails up again while we're dressing, neil; it's a pity to waste any of this breeze." i nodded, and resigning the tiller to joyce, climbed up on to the deck, and proceeded to reset both the mainsail and the spinnaker, which were lying in splendid confusion along the top of the cabin. i had just concluded this operation when tommy and our visitor reappeared--the latter looking rather comic in a grey jersey, a pair of white flannel trousers, and an old dark blue cricketing blazer and cap. "i've been telling our friend mr. gow that he's got to sue these chaps," said tommy. "he knows who they are: they're a couple of germans who've got a bungalow on sheppey, close to that little creek we used to put in at." "you make 'em pay," continued tommy. "they haven't a leg to stand on, rushing past like that. they as near as possible swamped us." mr. gow cast a critical eye round the _betty_. "ay! and you'd take a deal o' swampin,' mister. she's a fine manly little ship, an' that's a fact." then he paused. "it's hard on a man to lose his boat," he added quietly; "specially when 'is livin' depends on 'er." "what do you do?" i asked. "what's your job?" mr. gow hesitated for a moment. "well, in a manner o' speakin', i haven't got what you might call no reg'lar perfession, sir. i just picks up what i can outer the river like. i rows folks out to their boats round tilbury way, and at times i does a bit of eel fishing--or maybe in summer there's a job lookin' arter the yachts at leigh and southend. it all comes the same to me, sir." "do you know cunnock creek?" asked tommy. "cunnock crick!" repeated mr. gow. "why, i should think i did, sir. my cottage don't lie more than a mile from cunnock crick. is that where you're makin' for?" tommy nodded. "we were thinking of putting in there," he said. "is there enough water?" "plenty o' water, sir--leastways there will be by the time we get up. it runs a bit dry at low tide, but there's always a matter o' three to four feet in the middle o' the channel." this was excellent news, for the _betty_ with her centre-board up only drew about three feet six, so except at the very lowest point the creek would always be navigable. "is it a safe place to leave a boat for the night with no one on board?" inquired tommy. mr. gow shook his head. "i wouldn't go as far as that, sir. none o' the reg'lar boatmen or fishermen wouldn't touch 'er, but they're a thievin' lot o' rascals, some o' them tilbury folk. if they happened to come across 'er, as like as not they'd strip 'er gear, to say nothin' of the fittings." then he paused. "but if you was thinkin' o' layin' 'er up there for the night, i'd see no one got monkeyin' around with 'er. i'd sleep aboard meself." "well, that's a bright notion," said tommy, turning to me. "what do you think, neil?" "i think it's quite sound," i answered. "besides, he can help me look after her for the next two or three days. i shall be too busy to get over to the creek much myself." then putting my hand in my pocket i pulled out joyce's envelope, and carefully extracted one of the five-pound notes from inside. "look here, mr. gow!" i added, "we'll strike a bargain. if you'll stay with the _betty_ for a day or so, i'll give you this fiver to buy or hire another boat with until you can get your compensation out of our german friends. i shall be living close by, but i shan't have time to keep my eye on her properly." mr. gow accepted the proposal and the note with alacrity. "i'm sure i'm very much obliged to you, sir," he said gratefully. "i'll just run up to my cottage when we land to get some dry clothes, and then i'll come straight back and take 'er over. she won't come to no harm, not with luke gow on board; you can reckon on that, sir." he touched his cap, and climbing up out of the well, made his way forward, as though to signalize the fact that he was adopting the profession of our paid hand. "i'm so glad," said joyce quietly. "i shan't feel half so nervous now i know you'll have someone with you." tommy nodded. "it's a good egg," he observed. "i think old whiskers is by way of being rather grateful." then he paused. "but what swine those german beggars must be not to have stopped! they must have seen what had happened." "i wonder what he meant by hinting that they'd done it purposely," i said. tommy laughed. "i don't know. i asked him in the cabin, but he wouldn't say any more. i think he was only talking through his hat." "i'm not so sure," i said doubtfully. "he seemed to have some idea at the back of his mind. i shall sound him about it later on." with the wind holding good and a strong tide running, the _betty_ scudded along at such a satisfactory pace that by half-past twelve we were already within sight of gravesend reach. there is no more desolate-looking bit of the river than the stretch which immediately precedes that crowded fairway. it is bounded on each side by a low sea wall, behind which a dreary expanse of marsh and salting spreads away into the far distance. here and there the level monotony is broken by a solitary hut or a disused fishing hulk, but except for the passing traffic and the cloud of gulls perpetually wheeling and screaming overhead there is little sign of life or movement. "you see them two or three stakes stickin' up in the water?" remarked mr. gow suddenly, pointing away towards the right-hand bank. i nodded. "well, you keep 'em in line with that little clump o' trees be'ind, an' you'll just fetch the crick nicely." he and tommy went forward to take in the spinnaker, while, following the marks he had indicated, i brought the _betty_ round towards her destination. approaching the shore i saw that the entrance to the creek was a narrow channel between two mud-flats, both of which were presumably covered at high tide. i called to joyce to wind up the centre-board to its fullest extent, and then, steering very carefully, edged my way in along this drain, while mr. gow leaned over to leeward diligently heaving the lead. "plenty o' water," he kept on calling out encouragingly. "keep 'er goin', sir, keep 'er goin'. inside that beacon, now up with 'er a bit. that's good!" he discarded the lead and hurried to the anchor. i swung her round head to wind, tommy let down the mainsail, and the next moment we brought up with a grace and neatness that would almost have satisfied a solent skipper. we were in the very centre of a little muddy creek with high banks on either side of it. there was no other boat within sight; indeed, although we were within three miles of tilbury, anything more desolate than our surroundings it would be difficult to imagine. mr. gow assisted us to furl the sails and put things straight generally, and then coming aft addressed himself to me. "i don't know what time you gen'lemen might be thinkin' o' leavin'; but if you could put me ashore now i could be back inside of the hour." "right you are," i said. "i'll do that straight away." we both got into the dinghy, and in a few strokes i pulled him to the bank, where he stepped out on to the mud. then he straightened himself and touched his cap. "i haven't never thanked you properly yet, sir, for what you done," he observed. "you saved my life, and luke gow ain't the sort o' man to forget a thing like that." i backed the boat off into the stream. "well, if you'll save our property from the tilbury gentlemen," i said, "we'll call it quits." when i got back to the ship i found tommy and joyce making preparations for lunch. "we thought you'd like something before you pushed off," said tommy. "one can scout better on a full tummy." "you needn't apologize for feeding me," i replied cheerfully. "i've a lot of lost time to make up in the eating line." it was a merry meal, that little banquet of ours in the _betty's_ cabin. the morning's sail had given us a first-rate appetite, and in spite of the somewhat unsettled state of our affairs we were all three in the best of spirits. indeed, i think the unknown dangers that surrounded us acted as a sort of stimulant to our sense of pleasure. when you are sitting over a powder mine it is best to enjoy every pleasant moment as keenly as possible. you never know when you may get another. at last i decided that it was time for me to start. "i tell you what i think i'll do, tommy," i said. "i'll see if there's any way along outside the sea-wall. i could get right up to the place then without being spotted, if there should happen to be any one there." tommy nodded. "that's the idea," he said. "and look here: i brought this along for you. i don't suppose you'll want it, but it's a useful sort of thing to have on the premises." he pulled out a small pocket revolver, loaded in each chamber, and handed it over to me. i accepted it rather doubtfully. "thanks, tommy," i said, "but i expect i should do a lot more damage with my fists." "oh, please take it, neil," said joyce simply. "very well," i answered, and stuffing it into my side pocket, i buttoned up my coat. "now, tommy," i said; "if you'll put me ashore we'll start work." it was about a hundred yards to the mouth of the creek, and with the tide running hard against us it was quite a stiff little pull. tommy, however, insisted on taking me the whole way down, just to see whether there was any chance of getting along outside the sea-wall. we landed at the extreme point, and jumping out on to the mud, i picked my way carefully round the corner and stared up the long desolate stretch of river frontage. the tide was still some way out, and although the going was not exactly suited to patent-leather boots, it was evidently quite possible for any one who was not too particular. i turned round and signalled to tommy that i was all right; then, keeping in as close as i could to the sea-wall, i set off on my journey. it was slow walking, for every now and then i had to climb up the slope to get out of the way of some hopelessly soft patch of mud. on one of these occasions, when i had covered about three-quarters of a mile, i peered cautiously over the top of the bank. some little way ahead of me, right out in the middle of the marsh, i saw what i imagined to be my goal. it was a tiny brick building with a large wooden shed alongside, the latter appearing considerably the newer and more sound of the two. i was inspecting it with the natural interest that one takes in one's future country house, when quite suddenly i saw the door of the building opening. a moment later a man stepped out on to the grass, and looked quickly round as though to make certain that there was no one watching. although the distance was about three hundred yards i recognized him at once. it was my friend of the restaurant--mr. bruce latimer. chapter xvi confronting the intruder the discovery was a beautifully unexpected one, but i was getting used to surprises by this time. i bobbed down at once behind the sea-wall, and crouched there for a moment wondering what was the best thing to do. after what i had found out it seemed hardly probable that latimer could be there in the capacity of mcmurtrie's caretaker; but if not, how on earth had he hit upon the place, and what was he doing prowling about inside it? raising myself up again with extreme care i had another look through the grass. latimer had left the building and was stooping down in front of the door of the shed, his attention being obviously concentrated on the lock. i was rather a long way off, but as far as i could see he appeared to be trying to slip back the bolt with the aid of a piece of wire. i think that decided me. however dangerous it might be to show myself, it seemed still more risky to allow some one of whose motives i was at present completely ignorant to inspect my future workshop. almost before i realized what i was doing i had slipped over the bank and dropped down on to the marsh. the slight noise i made must have reached latimer's ears, for he wheeled round with amazing promptness. at the same instant his right hand travelled swiftly into the side pocket of his coat--a gesture which i found sufficiently illuminating in view of what i was carrying myself in a similar place. when he saw how far off i was he seemed to hesitate for a moment; then pulling out a case he coolly and deliberately lit himself a cigarette, and after taking a quick glance round started to stroll slowly towards me. i noticed that he still kept his hand in his side pocket. my mind was working pretty rapidly as we approached each other. what would happen seemed to me to depend chiefly upon whether latimer had seen me in the restaurant, and had guessed that it was i who had sent him the message. if not, it struck me that he must be wondering rather badly who i was and what connection i had with the hut. when we were still twenty yards apart he pulled up and waited for me, smoking his cigarette with every appearance of tranquil enjoyment. "i beg your pardon, sir," he said in a pleasant, lazy voice, "but i wonder if you could tell me who this building belongs to?" i came to a halt right in front of him. "well," i replied boldly, "until i saw you coming out of the door just now i was under the impression that i was the legal tenant." he smiled, and taking off his hat made me a slight bow. "i must really beg your pardon," he said. "i was trespassing shamelessly. the fact of the matter is that i am acting on behalf of the district surveyor, and finding the door open and being unable to get any answer, i took the liberty of looking inside." if ever in my life i felt confident that a man was telling me a lie it was at that moment, but my belief was certainly due to no fault of mr. latimer's. he spoke with a coolness and an apparent candour that would have done credit to a cabinet minister. "the district surveyor!" i repeated. "and what does that distinguished person want with me?" mr. latimer made a gesture towards the hut with his disengaged hand. "it's nothing of any real importance," he said, "but you appear to have been making some slight alterations here. this wooden building--" "it's only a temporary structure," i interrupted. he nodded. "quite so. still there are certain bye-laws which we have to see attended to. the surveyor happened to notice it the other day when he was passing, and he asked me to find out the exact purpose it was intended for. we are bound to make some restrictions about wooden buildings on account of the extra chance of their catching fire." the idea of the district surveyor being seriously perturbed over the possibility of my being roasted alive struck me as rather improbable, but i was careful not to give any impression of doubting the statement. "as a matter of fact," i said, "there is no chance of a tragedy of that sort. i have taken the place to make a few experiments in connection with photography. the stuff i am using is quite uninflammable." all the time i was speaking i was watching him carefully to see if i could detect the least sign of his recognizing me. for any such indication, however, we might have been utter strangers. he accepted my falsehood as politely as i had received his. "well, in that case," he said, with a smile, "there is really no need for me to bother you any further. i will tell the surveyor that you are a strictly law-abiding citizen. meanwhile"--he stepped back and again raised his hat--"let me apologize once more for having broken into your place." whether there was any deliberate irony in his remark i was unable to guess; his manner at all events gave no hint of it. "you needn't apologize," i returned artlessly. "it was my own fault for leaving the door open." i thought i saw the faintest possible quiver at the corner of his lips, but if so it was gone again at once. "yes," he said gravely. "you will find it safer to keep the place locked up. good-day, sir." "good-day," i replied, and turning deliberately away from him i sauntered off towards the hut. i did not look round until i had reached the door; and even then i made a pretence of dropping my keys and stooping to pick them up. the precaution, however, seemed a little superfluous. mr. latimer was some thirty or forty yards away, walking inland across the marsh in the direction of tilbury. i couldn't help wondering whether he had noticed the mast of the _betty_, which was just visible in the distance, sticking up demurely above the bank of the creek. i stepped inside the hut--it was really little more than a hut--and closed the door. the first impression i received was one of being back in my prison cell. the only light in the place filtered in through a tiny and very dirty window, which looked out in the direction that latimer had taken. for the rest, as soon as my eyes were used to the gloom, i made out a camp bed with blankets on it, a small wooden table and chair, a jug and basin, and in the farther corner of the room a miscellaneous collection of cooking and eating utensils. there was also a large wooden box which i imagined to contain food. i took in all this practically at a glance, for my mind was still too occupied with my late visitor to trouble much about anything else. i sat down on the bed and tried to think out the situation clearly. there could be no doubt that latimer had been spying on the place, if such an unpleasant word could be applied to a gentleman who was supposed to be in government service. the question was, what did he suspect? i had pretty good evidence that he was up against mcmurtrie and the others in some shape or other, and presumably it was on account of my connection with them that i had been favoured with his attentions. still, this didn't seem to make the situation any the more cheerful for me. if latimer was really a secret-service man, as some one had told tommy, it stood to reason that i must be assisting in some particularly shady and dangerous sort of enterprise. i had no special objection to this from the moral point of view, but on the other hand i certainly didn't want to throw away my hardly-won liberty before i had had the satisfaction of settling accounts with george. i debated with myself whether it would be best to let mcmurtrie know that the place was being watched. to a certain extent his interests in the matter seemed to be identical with mine, but my mistrust of him was still strong enough to make me hesitate. beyond his bare word and that of sonia i had no proof as yet that he intended to play straight with me. one thing appeared certain, and that was that latimer had failed to recognize me as the man who had sent him the warning at parelli's. in a way this gave me an advantage, but it was a forlorn enough sort of advantage in view of the unknown dangers by which i was surrounded. i got up off the bed, feeling anything but comfortable, and going to the door had another look round. latimer had disappeared behind the thin belt of trees that fringed the tilbury road, and so far as i could see there was no one else about. getting out my keys, i walked along to the shed and opened the door. if my living accommodation was a trifle crude, mcmurtrie had certainly made up for it here. he had evidently carried out my instructions with the most minute care and an absolute disregard for expense. lead tanks, sinks, chemicals, an adequate water supply in the shape of a pump--everything i had asked for seemed to have been provided. i looked round the large, clean, well-lighted place with a sensation of intense satisfaction. the mere sight of all these preparations made me ache to begin work, for i was consumed with the impatience that any inventor would feel who had been compelled to leave a big discovery on the very verge of completion. coming out, i closed the door again, and carefully turned the key behind me. then walking back to the hut i locked that up as well. i hadn't the faintest belief in latimer's story about finding the place open, and apart from making things safe i certainly didn't want to leave any traces of my surprise visit. from what i knew of mcmurtrie i felt sure that he had left somebody in charge, and that in all probability latimer had merely taken advantage of their temporary absence. after a last glance all round, to make sure that the coast was still clear, i walked rapidly down to the sea-wall and scrambled up on to the top. the tide had risen a bit, but there was just room to get along, so jumping down i set off on my return journey. there was something very cheering and reassuring in the sight of the _betty_ riding easily at her anchor, as i made my way round the mouth of the creek. tommy and joyce were both on deck: the former in his shirt-sleeves, swabbing down his new paint with a wet mop. directly he saw me he abandoned the job to joyce, and with a wave of his hand proceeded to get out the dinghy. a minute later he was pulling for the shore. "all serene?" he inquired calmly, as he ran the boat up to where i was standing. "yes," i said. "we needn't hurry; there's no one chasing me." then pushing her off the mud i jumped in. "i'll tell you the news," i added, "when we get on board." we headed off for the _betty_, and as we came alongside and i handed up the painter to joyce, i felt rather like the raven must have done when he returned to the ark. as far as peace and security were concerned, my outside world seemed to be almost as unsatisfactory as his. "how have you got on?" demanded joyce eagerly. i climbed up on to the deck. "i've had quite an interesting time," i said. then i paused and looked round the boat. "is mr. gow back?" i inquired. tommy shook his head. "not yet. i expect he's blueing some of that fiver in anticipation." "come and sit down, then," i said, "and i'll tell you all about it." they both seated themselves beside me on the edge of the well, and in as few words as possible i let them have the full story of my adventures. at the first mention of latimer's name tommy indulged in a low whistle, but except for that non-committal comment they listened to me in silence. joyce was the first to speak when i had finished. "it's hateful, isn't it?" she said. "i feel as if we were fighting in the dark." "that's just what we are doing," answered tommy, "but we're letting in a bit of light by degrees though." then he turned to me. "mcmurtrie's got some game on, evidently, and this chap latimer's dropped on it. that was why they tried to put him out of the way." "yes," i said, "and if latimer is really in the secret service, it must be a precious queer sort of game too." tommy nodded. "i wonder if they're anarchists," he said, after a short pause. "perhaps they want your powder to blow up the houses of parliament or the law courts with." i laughed shortly. "no," i said. "whatever mcmurtrie's after, it's nothing so useful and unselfish as that. if i thought it was i shouldn't worry." "well, there's only one thing to do," observed tommy, after a pause, "and that's to go and look up latimer, as i suggested. you're sure he didn't recognize you?" i shrugged my shoulders. "i'm sure of nothing about him," i replied, "except that he's a superb liar." "we must risk it anyhow," said tommy. "he's the only person who knows anything of what's going on, and he evidently wants to find out who sent him that note, or he wouldn't have answered it as he did. he'll have to give me some sort of explanation if i go and see him. i shall rub it into him that my supposed pal is a perfectly sensible, unimaginative sort of chap--and anyway people don't invent a yarn like that." "look!" interrupted joyce suddenly. "isn't that mr. gow coming along by those trees?" she pointed away down the creek, and following her direction i saw the figure of our trusty retainer trudging back towards the ship, with a bundle over his shoulder. he had exchanged tommy's picturesque outfit for some garments of his own, more in keeping with his new and dignified position. "i'll pick him up," i said; "but what are we going to do about getting back? we had better not try tilbury, or we may run into latimer; it would put the hat on everything if he saw us together." tommy consulted his watch. "it's just half-past three now," he said. "i vote we run across to gravesend and catch the train there. old whiskers can bring the boat back here after we've gone--if he's still sober." "of course he's sober," said joyce; "look at the beautiful way he's walking." i should hardly have applied quite such a complimentary adjective to mr. gow's gait myself, but all the same joyce's diagnosis proved to be quite correct. mr. gow was sober--most undoubtedly and creditably sober. i rowed to the bank, and brought him on board, and when we told him of our plans he expressed himself as being perfectly competent to manage the return journey single-handed. "you leave 'er to me," he remarked consolingly. "i shan't want no help--not to bring 'er in here. some people don't hold with being alone in a boat, but that ain't luke gow's way." he went forward to get up the anchor, while tommy and i occupied ourselves with the exciting sport of trying to start the engine. it went off at last with its usual vicious kick, and a few minutes later we were throbbing our way out of the creek into the main river. the tide was right at its highest, and down the centre of the fairway straggled a long procession of big hooting steamers, sluggish brown-sailed barges, and small heavily-burdened tugs, puffing out their usual trails of black smoke. one felt rather like a terrier trying to cross piccadilly, but by waiting for our chance we dodged through without disaster, and pulled up in a comparatively tranquil spot off the gravesend landing-stage. tommy signalled to one of the boatmen who were hanging about the steps waiting for stray passengers. "this chap will take us off," he said, turning to mr. gow. "you push straight back while the engine's running; she usually stops when we've got about as far as this." "and i'll come over to the creek some time tomorrow," i added; though in my present circumstances a confident prophecy of any kind seemed a trifle rash. we went ashore and stood for a moment on the stage watching the _betty_ thread her course back through the traffic. mr. gow seemed to handle her with perfect confidence, and relieved on this point we turned round and set off for the station. we found ourselves in luck's way. an unusually obliging train was due to start in ten minutes' time, and as before we managed to secure an empty compartment. "i tell you what i want you to do when we get back to town, joyce," i said. "i want you to help me buy a hat." "what's the matter with the one you're wearing?" demanded tommy. "it just suits your savage style of beauty." "oh, this new one isn't for me," i explained. "it's for a lady--a lady friend, as we say." "i didn't know you had any," said joyce, "except me and sonia." i smiled arrogantly. "you underrate my attractions," i replied. "haven't i told you about miss gertie 'uggins?" then i proceeded to sketch in gertrude as well as i could, finishing up with the story of her spirited determination to spend the five shillings i had given her on a really fashionable head-dress. tommy slapped his leg and chuckled. "i believe any woman would starve herself to death for something new to wear," he remarked. "of course she would," said joyce with spirit--"any decent woman." then she turned to me. "i think it's sweet, neil; i shall give her a new hat myself, just because she loves you." tommy laughed again. "you'll find that an expensive hobby to keep up, joyce," he said. "you'll have to start a bonnet-shop." all the way back to town we talked and joked in much the same strain, as cheerfully as though none of us had a care in the world. if there had been a stranger in the carriage listening to us, he would, i think, have found it impossible to believe that i was neil lyndon, the much-wanted convict, and that tommy and joyce were engaged in the criminal pursuit of helping me avoid the police. no doubt, as i said before, the very danger and excitement of our position accounted to some extent for our high spirits, but in my case they were due even more to a natural reaction from the misery of the last three years. ever since i had met tommy and joyce again i seemed to have been shedding flakes off the crust of bitterness and hatred which had built itself up round my soul. even my feelings towards george were slowly becoming less murderous. i was still as determined as ever to get at the truth of his amazing treachery if i could; but the savage loathing that i had previously cherished for him was gradually giving place to a more healthy sensation of contempt. i felt now that, whatever his motives may have been, there would be far more satisfaction in kicking him than in killing him. besides, the former process was one that under favourable circumstances could be repeated indefinitely. "you're spending the evening with me, neil, of course," observed tommy, as we drew into charing cross. i nodded. "we'll take a taxi and buy the hat somewhere, and then drop joyce at chelsea. after that i am open to any dissipation." "only keep away from the savoy," said joyce. "i am making my great surrender there, and it would hamper me to have you and tommy about." we promised to respect her privacy, and then, getting out of the train, which had drawn up in the station, we hailed a taxi and climbed quickly into it. charing cross is the last place to dawdle in if you have any objection to being recognized. "shall we be able to write to you?" asked joyce. "i shall want to tell you about george, and tommy will want to let you know how he gets on with latimer. of course i'm coming down to the boat in a day or two; but all sorts of things may happen before then." i thought rapidly for a moment. "write to me at the tilbury post-office," i said. "only don't make a mistake and address the letter to neil lyndon. too much excitement isn't good for a government official." tommy laughed. "it's just the sort of damn silly thing i should probably have done," he said. "can't you imagine the postmaster's face when he read the envelope? i should like to paint it as a christmas supplement to the _graphic_." "where did you tell the man to stop, joyce?" i asked. "holland's," said joyce. "i am going to buy gertie a really splendid hat--something with birds and flowers on it. i am sure i know just what she'll think beautiful. i suppose i had better tell them to send it round to you at edith terrace. you won't want to carry it about london." "not unless tommy likes to wear it," i said. "i think i'm disguised enough as it is." we pulled up outside mr. holland's imposing shop-front, and joyce, who was sitting next the door, got up from her seat. then she leaned forward and kissed me. "good-bye, neil," she said. "i shall come down on tuesday and go straight to the _betty_, unless i hear anything special from you before then." she paused. "and oh, dear neil," she added, "you will be careful, won't you? if anything was to happen now, i believe i should kill george and jump into the thames." "in that case," i said, "i shall be discretion itself. i couldn't allow george anything like so charming an end; it would be quite wasted on him." joyce smiled happily and, opening the door, jumped out on to the pavement. "you keep the taxi on," she said. "i shall take a bus home. i can't be hurried over buying a hat--even if it's for gertie. where shall i tell the man to go to?" "better say the studio," answered tommy. "we both want a wash and a drink before we start dissipating." for an escaped murderer and his guilty accessory, i am afraid that our dissipation proved to be rather a colourless affair. tommy had always had simple tastes in the way of amusement, and even if it had been safe for us to parade the west end in each other's company, i certainly had no wish to waste my time over a theatre or anything of that sort. i found that real life supplied me with all the drama i needed just at present. what we actually did was to dine quietly in a little out-of-the-way restaurant just off sloane square, and then play billiards for the remainder of the evening in a room above a neighbouring tavern. we had several most exciting games. in old days i had been able to beat tommy easily, but owing to a regrettable oversight on the part of the government there is no table at princetown, and in consequence i was rather short of practice. afterwards tommy walked with me as far as victoria, where we discussed such arrangements for the future as we were in a position to make. "i'll write to you, anyway, neil," he said, "as soon as i've tackled latimer; and i'll probably come down with joyce on tuesday. if you want me any time before, send me a wire." i nodded. "you'll be more useful to me in london, tommy," i said. "all the threads of the business are up here. mcmurtrie--latimer-- george"--i paused--"i'd give something to know what those three do between them," i added regretfully. tommy gripped my hand. "it's all right, old son," he said. "i'm not much of a believer in inspirations and all that sort of rot, but somehow or other i'm dead certain we're going to win out. i've had a feeling like that ever since the trial--and so has joyce." "thanks, tommy," i said briefly. "you'd give a jellyfish a backbone--you two." and with a last squeeze of the hand i left him standing there, and set off across the station for edith terrace. it was close on midnight when i got back, and every one in the house seemed to have gone to bed. the light had been put out in the hall, but the door of my sitting-room was partly open, and a small jet of gas was flickering away over the fireplace. i turned this up and, looking round, discovered a large box with holland's label on it, a note, and a half-sheet of paper--all decorating the table in the centre of the room. i examined the half-sheet of paper first. it contained several dirty thumb-marks and the following message, roughly scrawled in pencil: "sir the lady with the hat cum for you about for aclock i told her as you was out and she rote this leter gerty." hastily picking up the envelope, i slit open the flap, and pulled out the "leter" from inside. it covered two sides, and was written in sonia's curious, sloping, foreign-looking hand. "i have to go away with my father until the end of next week. by that time, if you have succeeded with your invention, there will be nothing to stop our plans. i would have explained everything to you today if you had been here. as it is, _on no account give your secret to any one_ until i have seen you. i shall come down to tilbury either on friday or saturday, and within a few hours we can be utterly beyond the reach of any further danger or difficulties. until then, my lover--sonia." i read it through twice, and then slowly folding it up, thrust it back into the envelope. "it seems to me," i said, "that i'm going to have quite an interesting house-party." chapter xvii the workshop on the marshes i gave gertie her hat next morning when she brought me up my breakfast. it was a gorgeous thing--rather the shape of a dustman's helmet, with a large scarlet bird nestling on one side of it, sheltered by some heavy undergrowth. gertie's face, as i pulled it out of the box, was a study in about eight different emotions. "oo--er," she gasped faintly. "that ain't never for me." "yes, it is, gertrude," i said. "it was specially chosen for you by a lady of unimpeachable taste." i held it out to her, and she accepted it with shaking hands, like a newly-made peeress receiving her tiara. "my gawd," she whispered reverently; "ain't it just a dream!" to be perfectly honest, it seemed to me more in the nature of a nightmare, but wild horses wouldn't have dragged any such hostile criticism out of me. "i think it will suit you very nicely, gertie," i said. "it's got just that dash of colour which edith terrace wants." "yer reely mean it?" she asked eagerly. "yer reely think i'll look orl right in it? 'course it do seem a bit funny like with this 'ere frock, but i got a green velveteen wot belonged to mrs. oldbury's niece. it won't 'alf go with that." "it won't indeed," i agreed heartily. then, looking up from my eggs and bacon, i added: "by the way, gertie, i've never thanked you for your letter. i had no idea you could, write so well." "go on!" said gertie doubtfully; "you're gettin' at me now." "no, i'm not," i answered. "it was a very nice letter. it said just what you wanted to say and nothing more. that's the whole art of good letter-writing." then a sudden idea struck me. "look here, gertie," i went on, "will you undertake a little job for me if i explain it to you?" she nodded. "oo--rather. i'd do any think for you." "well, it's something i may want you to do for me after i've left." her face fell. "you ain't goin' away from 'ere--not for good?" "not entirely for good," i said. "i hope to do a certain amount of harm to at least one person before i come back." i paused. "it's just possible," i continued, "that after i've gone somebody may come to the house and ask questions about me--how i spent my time while i was here, and that sort of thing. if they should happen to ask you, i want you to tell them that i used to stay in bed most of the day and go to the theatre in the evening. do you mind telling a lie for me?" gertie looked at me in obvious amazement. "i _don't_ think," she observed. "wotjer taike me for--a sunday-school teacher?" "no, gertie," i said gravely; "no girl with your taste in hats could possibly be a sunday-school teacher." then pushing away my plate and lighting a cigarette, i added: "i'll leave you a stamped addressed envelope and a telegraph form. you can send me the wire first to say if any one has called, and then write me a line afterwards by post telling me what they were like and what they said." "i can do that orl right," she answered eagerly. "if they talks to mrs. oldbury i'll listen at the keyhole." i nodded. "it's a practice that the best moralists condemn," i said, "but after all, the recording angel does it." then getting up from the table, i added: "you might tell mrs. oldbury i should like to see her." when that good lady arrived i acquainted her with the fact that i intended to leave her house in about two hours' time. any resentment which she might have felt over this slightly abrupt departure was promptly smoothed away by my offer to take on the rooms for at least another fortnight. i did this partly with the object of leaving a pleasant impression behind me, and partly because i had a vague idea that it might come in handy to have some sort of headquarters in london where i was known and recognized as mr. james nicholson. having settled up this piece of business i sat down and wrote to mcmurtrie. it was a task which required a certain amount of care and delicacy, but after two trial essays i succeeded in turning out the following letter, which seemed to me about to meet the situation. "dear dr. mcmurtrie: "as you have probably heard, i received your letter yesterday, and i am making arrangements to go down to tilbury tomorrow by the . . "of course in a way i am sorry to leave london--it's extraordinary what a capacity for pleasure a prolonged residence in the country gives one--but at the same time i quite agree with you that business must come first. "i shall start work directly i get down, and if all the things i asked for in my list have been provided, i don't think it will be long before i have some satisfactory news for you. unless i see you or hear from you before then i will write to the hotel russell directly there is anything definite to communicate. "meanwhile please give my kind regards to your amiable friend and colleague, and also remember me to his charming daughter. "believe me, "yours sincerely, "james nicholson." with its combined touch of seriousness and flippancy, this appeared to me exactly the sort of letter that mcmurtrie would expect me to write. i couldn't resist putting in the bit about his "amiable" friend, for the recollection of savaroff's manner towards me still rankled gently in my memory. besides i had a notion it would rather amuse mcmurtrie, whose more artistic mind must have been frequently distressed by his colleague's blustering surliness. i could think of nothing else which required my immediate attention, so going into my bedroom i proceeded to pack up my belongings. i put in everything i possessed with the exception of savaroff's discarded garments, for although i was keeping on the rooms i had no very robust faith in my prospects of ever returning to them. then, ringing the bell, i despatched gertrude to fetch me a taxi, while i settled up my bill with mrs. oldbury. "an' seem' you've taken on the rooms, sir," observed that lady, "i 'opes it's to be a case of 'say orrivar an' not good-bye.'" "i hope it is, mrs. oldbury," i replied. "i shall come back if i possibly can, but one never knows what may happen in life." she shook her head sombrely. "ah, you're right there, sir. an' curious enough that's the very identical remark my late 'usband was ser fond o' makin'. i remember 'is sayin' it to me the very night before 'e was knocked down by a bus. knocked down in westminister 'e was, and runned over the body by both 'ind wheels. 'e never got over it--not as you might say reely got over it. if ever 'e ate cheese after that it always give 'im a pain in 'is stomick." an apropos remark about "come wheel come woe" flashed into my mind, but before i could frame it in properly sympathetic language, a taxi drew up at the door with gertie 'uggins installed in state alongside the driver. both she and mrs. oldbury stood on the step, and waved farewell to me as i drove down the street. i was quite sorry to leave them. i felt that they both liked me in their respective ways, and my present list of amiably disposed acquaintances was so small that i objected to curtailing it by the most humble member. all the way to tilbury i occupied myself with the hackneyed but engrossing pursuit of pondering over my affairs. apart from my own private interest in the matter, which after all was a fairly poignant one, the mysterious adventure in which i was involved filled me with a profound curiosity. latimer's dramatic re-entry on to the scene had thrown an even more sinister complexion over the whole business than it boasted before, and, like a man struggling with a jig-saw problem, i tried vainly to fit together the various pieces into some sort of possible solution. i was still engaged in this interesting occupation when the train ran into tilbury station. without waiting for a porter i collected my various belongings, and stepped out on to the platform. mcmurtrie had told me in his letter that he would arrange for some one to meet me; and looking round i caught sight of a burly red-faced gentleman in a tight jacket and a battered straw hat, sullenly eyeing the various passengers who had alighted. i walked straight up to him. "are you waiting for me--mr. james nicholson?" i asked. he looked me up and down in a kind of familiar fashion that distinctly failed to appeal to me. "that's right," he said. then as a sort of afterthought he added, "i gotter trap outside." "have you?" i said. "i've got a couple of bags inside, so you'd better come and catch hold of one of them." his unpleasantly red face grew even redder, and for a moment he seemed to meditate some spirited answer. then apparently he thought better of it, and slouching after me up the platform, possessed himself of the larger and heavier of my two bags, which i had carefully left for him. the trap proved to be a ramshackle affair with an ill-kept but powerful-looking horse between the shafts. i climbed up, and as i took my seat i observed to my companion that i wished first of all to call at the post-office. "i dunno nothin' 'bout that," he grunted, flicking his whip. "my orders was to drive you to warren's copse." "i don't care in the least what your orders were," i answered. "you can either go to the post-office or else you can go to the devil. there are plenty of other traps in tilbury." he was evidently unused to this crisp style of dialogue, for after glaring at me for a moment in a sort of apoplectic amazement he jerked his horse round and proceeded slowly down the street. "'ave it yer own way," he muttered. "i intend to," i said cheerfully. we pulled up at the post-office, a large red-brick building in the main street, and leaving my disgruntled friend sitting in the trap, i jumped out and pushed open the swing door. except for an intelligent-looking clerk behind the counter the place was empty. "good-morning," i said. "i wonder if you could help me out of a slight difficulty about my letters?" "what sort of a difficulty?" he inquired civilly. "well, for the next week or two," i said, "i shall be living in a little hut on the marshes about two miles to the east from here, and quite close to the sea-wall. i am making a few chemical experiments in connection with photography" (a most useful lie this), "and i've told my friends to write or send telegrams here--to the post-office. i wondered, if anything should come for me, whether you had a special messenger or any one who could bring it over. i would be delighted to pay him his proper fee and give him something extra for his trouble. my name is nicholson--mr. james nicholson." the man hesitated for a moment. "i don't think there will be any difficulty about that--not if you leave written instructions. i shall have to ask the postmaster when he comes in, but i'm pretty certain it will be all right." i thanked him, and after writing out exactly what i wanted done, i returned to my friend in the trap, who, to judge from his expression, did not appear to have benefited appreciably from my little lesson in patience and politeness. under the circumstances i decided to extend it. "i am going across the street to get some things i want," i observed. "you can wait here." he made an unpleasant sound in his throat, which i think he intended for an ironical laugh. "wot you want's a bus," he remarked; "a bus an' a bell an' a ruddy conductor." i came quite close and looked up into his face, smiling. "what you want," i said quietly, "is a damned good thrashing, and if i have any more of your insolence i'll pull you down out of the trap and give you one." i think something in my voice must have told him i was speaking the literal truth, for although his mouth opened convulsively it closed again without any audible response. i strolled serenely across the road to where i saw an "off-licence." i had acted in an indiscreet fashion, but whatever happened i was determined to put up with no further rudeness from anybody. i had had all the discourtesy i required during my three years in princetown. my purchases at the off-licence consisted of three bottles of whisky and two more of some rather obscure brand of champagne. it was possible, of course, that mcmurtrie's ideas of catering included such luxuries, but there seemed no reason for running any unnecessary risk. as a prospective host it was clearly my duty to take every reasonable precaution. armed with my spoils i returned to the trap, and stored them away carefully beneath the seat. then i climbed up alongside the driver. "now you can go to warren's copse," i said; and without making any reply the tomato-faced gentleman jerked round his horse's head, and back we went up the street. i can't say it was exactly an hilarious drive. i felt cheerful enough myself, but my companion maintained a depressed and lowering silence, broken only by an occasional inward grunt, or a muttered curse at the horse. it struck me as curious and not a little sinister that mcmurtrie should be employing such an uncouth ruffian, but i supposed that he had some sound reason for his choice. i couldn't imagine mcmurtrie doing anything without a fairly sound reason. within about ten minutes of leaving the town, we came out on to the main road that bounded the landward side of the marshes. i caught sight of my future home looking very small and desolate against the long stretch of sea-wall, and far in the distance i could just discern the mast of the _betty_ still tapering up above the bank of the creek. it was comforting to know that so far at all events mr. gow had neither sunk her nor pawned her. warren's copse proved to be the small clump of trees that i had noticed on the previous day, and my driver pulled up there and jerked the butt of his whip in the direction of the hut. "there y'are," he said. "we can't get no nearer than this." there was a good distance to walk across the marsh, and for a moment i wondered whether to insist upon his getting out and carrying one of my bags, i decided, however, that i had had quite enough of the surly brute's company, so jumping down, i took out my belongings, and told him that he was at liberty to depart. he drove off without a word, but he had not gone more than about thirty yards when he suddenly turned in his seat and called out a parting observation. "i ain't afraid o' you--you--'ulkin' bully!" he shouted; "an' don't you think it neither." then, whipping up the horse, he broke into a smart canter, and disappeared round a bend in the road. when i had done laughing, i shoved a bottle into each side pocket, and stowed away the other three in the emptier of my two bags. the latter were no light weight to lug along, and by the time i had covered the half-mile of marsh that separated me from the hut i had come to the conclusion that the profession of a railway porter was one that i should never adopt as a private hobby. as soon as i unlocked the door, i saw that i had not been far wrong in my guess about a caretaker on the previous afternoon. some one, at all events, had been there in the interval, for the pile of cooking and eating utensils were now arranged on a rough shelf at the back, while the box which i had noticed had been unpacked and its contents set out on the kitchen table. i glanced over them with some interest. there were packets of tea and sugar, several loaves of bread, and a number of gaily-coloured tins, containing such luxuries as corned beef, condensed milk, tongue, potted meat, and golden syrup. except for the tea, however, there seemed to be a regrettable dearth of liquid refreshments, and i mentally thanked providence for my happy inspiration with regard to the off-licence. i pottered about a bit, unpacking my own belongings, and putting things straight generally. as i seemed likely to be spending some time in the place, i thought i might as well make everything as comfortable and tidy as possible to start with; and, thanks to my combined experience of small boats and prison cells, i flatter myself i made rather a good job of it. by the time i had finished i was feeling distinctly hungry. i opened one of the tongues, and with the additional aid of bread and whisky made a simple but satisfying lunch. then i sat down on the bed and treated myself to a pipe before going across to the shed to start work. smoking in business hours is one of those agreeable luxuries which an inventor of high explosives finds it healthier to deny himself. i could see no sign of any one about when i went outside. except for a few gulls, which were wheeling backwards and forwards over the sea-wall, i seemed to have the whole stretch of marsh and saltings entirely to myself. some people, i suppose, would have found the prospect a depressing one, but i was very far from sharing any such opinion. i like marsh scenery, and for the present at all events i was fully able to appreciate the charms which sages of all times are reported to have discovered in solitude. i shall never forget the feeling of satisfaction with which i closed the door of the shed behind me and looked round its clean, well-lighted interior. a careful examination soon showed me that mcmurtrie's share in the work had been done as thoroughly and conscientiously as i had imagined from my brief inspection on the previous day. everything i had asked for was lying there in readiness, and, much as i disliked and mistrusted the doctor, it was not without a genuine sensation of gratitude that i hung up my coat and proceeded to set to work. briefly speaking, my new discovery was an improvement on the famous c. powder, invented by lemartre. it was derived from the aromatic series of nitrates (which that great scientist always insisted to be the correct basis for stable and powerful explosives), but it owed its enormously increased force to a fresh constituent, the introduction of which was entirely my own idea. i had been working at it for about nine months before my arrest, and after several disappointing failures i had just succeeded in achieving what i believed to be my object, when my experiments had been so unkindly interrupted. still, all that remained now was comparatively clear sailing. i had merely to follow out my former process, and i had taken care to order the various ingredients in as fully prepared a state as possible for immediate use. i had also taken care to include one or two other articles, which as a matter of fact had nothing on earth to do with the business in hand. it was just as well, i felt, to obscure matters a trifle, in case any inquiring mind might attempt to investigate my secret. for hour after hour i worked on, sorting out my various chemicals, and preparing such methods of treatment as were necessary in each case. i was so interested in my task that i paid no attention at all to the time, until with something of a shock i suddenly realized that the light was beginning to fail. looking at my watch i found that it was nearly half-past seven. there was still a certain amount to do before i could knock off, so, stopping for a moment to mix myself a well-earned whisky-and-water, i switched on the two electric head-lights which mcmurtrie had provided as a means of illumination. with the aid of these i continued my labours for perhaps another hour and a half, at the end of which time i began to feel that a little rest and refreshment would be an agreeable variation in the programme. after making sure that everything was safe, i turned out the lights, and locking up the door, walked back to the hut. i was just entering, when it suddenly struck me that instead of dining in solitary state off tongue and bread, i might just as well stroll over to the _betty_ and take my evening repast in the engaging company of mr. gow. no sooner had this excellent idea entered my head than i decided to put it into practice. the moon was out, and there appeared to be enough light to see my way by the old route along the river shore, so, walking down to the sea-wall, i climbed over, and set off in the direction of the creek. it was tricky sort of work, with fine possibilities of spraining one's ankle about it, but by dint of "going delicately," like agag, i managed to reach the end of my journey without disaster. as i rounded the bend i saw the _betty_ lying out in mid-stream, bathed in a most becoming flood of moonlight. a closer observation showed me the head and shoulders of mr. gow protruding from the fo'c's'le hatch. he responded to my hail by scrambling up on deck and lowering himself into the dinghy, which with a few vigorous jerks he brought to the shore. "i've come to have supper with you, mr. gow," i observed. "have you got anything to eat?" he touched his cap and nodded. "i says to meself it must be you, sir, d'rectly i heard you comin' round the crick. there ain't much comp'ny 'bout here at night-time." "nor in the daytime either," i added, pushing the boat off from the bank. "and that's a fact, sir," he remarked, settling down to the oars. "there was one gent round here this morning askin' his way, but except for him we bin remarkable quiet." "what sort of a gent?" i demanded with interest. "smallish, 'e was, sir, an' very civil spoken. wanted to get to tilbury." "did he ask who the boat belonged to, by any chance?" mr. gow reflected for a moment. "now you come to mention it, sir, i b'lieve 'e did. not as i should have told 'im anything, even if i'd known. i don't hold with answerin' questions." "you're quite right, mr. gow," i observed, catching hold of the stern of the _betty_. "it's a habit that gets people into a lot of trouble--especially in the law courts." we clambered on board, and while my companion made the dinghy fast, i went down into the cabin, and proceeded to rout out the lockers in search of provisions. i discovered a slab of pressed beef, and some rather stale bread and cheese, which i set out on the table, wondering to myself, as i did so, whether the inquisitive stranger of the morning was in any way connected with my affairs. it couldn't have been latimer, for that gentleman was very far from being "smallish," a remark which applied equally well to our mutual friend with the scar. i was still pondering over the question when i heard mr. gow drop down into the fo'c's'le, and summond him through the connecting door to come and join the feast. he accepted my invitation with some embarrassment, as became a "paid hand," but a bottle of bass soon put him at his ease. we began by discussing various nautical topics, such as the relative merits of a centre-board or a keel for small boats, and whether whisky or beer was really the better drink when one was tired and wet through. it was not until we had finished our meal and were sitting outside enjoying our pipes that i broached the question that was at the back of my mind. "look here, gow," i said abruptly, "were you speaking seriously when you suggested that launch ran you down on purpose?" his face darkened, and then a curious look of slow cunning stole into it. "mebbe they did, and mebbe they didn't," he answered. "anyway, i reckon they wouldn't have bin altogether sorry to see me at the bottom o' the river." "but why?" i persisted. "what on earth have you been doing to them?" mr. gow was silent for a moment. "'tis like this, sir," he said at last. "bein' about the river all times o' the day an' night, i see things as other people misses--things as per'aps it ain't too healthy to see." "well, what have you seen our pals doing?" i inquired. "i don't say i seen 'em doin' nothin'--nothin' against the law, so to speak." he looked round cautiously. "all the same, sir," he added, lowering his voice, "it's my belief as they ain't livin' up there on sheppey for no good purpose. artists they calls 'emselves, but to my way o' thinking they're a sight more interested in forts an' ships an' suchlike than they are in pickchers and paintin'." i looked at him steadily for a moment. there was no doubt that the man was in earnest. "you think they're spies?" i said quietly. he nodded his head. "that's it, sir. spies--that's what they are; a couple o' dirty dutch spies--damn 'em." "why don't you tell the police or the naval people?" i asked. he laughed grimly. "they'd pay a lot of heed to the likes o' me, wouldn't they? you can lay them two fellers have got it all squared up fine and proper. come to look into it, an' you'd find they was artists right enough; no, there wouldn't be no doubt about that. as like as not i'd get two years 'ard for perjurin' and blackmail." to a certain extent i was in a position to sympathize with this point of view. "well, we must keep an eye on them ourselves," i said, "that's all. we can't have german spies running up and down the thames as if they owned the blessed place." i got up and knocked out my pipe. "the first thing to do," i added, "is to summons them for sinking your boat. if they _are_ spies, they'll pay up without a murmur, especially if they really tried to do it on purpose." mr. gow nodded his head again, with a kind of vicious obstinacy. "they done it a-purpose all right," he repeated. "they seen me watching of 'em, and they knows that dead men tell no tales." there scarcely seemed to me to be enough evidence for the certainty with which he cherished this opinion; but the mere possibility of its being a fact was sufficiently disturbing. goodness knows, i didn't want to mix myself up in any further troubles, and yet, if these men were really german spies, and, in addition to that, sufficiently desperate to attempt a cold-blooded murder in order to cover up their traces, i had apparently let myself in for it with a vengeance. of course, if i liked, i could abandon mr. gow to pursue his claim without any assistance; but that was a solution which somehow or other failed to appeal to me. in a sense he had become my retainer; and we lyndons are not given to deserting our retainers under any circumstances. at least, i shouldn't exactly have liked to face my father in another world with this particular weakness against my record. altogether it was in a far from serene state of mind that i climbed down into the dinghy, and allowed mr. gow to row me back to the bank. "will you be over tomorrow, sir?" he asked, as he stood up in the boat ready to push off. "i don't think so, i shall be rather busy the next two or three days." then i paused a moment. "keep your eyes open generally, mr. gow," i added; "and if any more gentlemen who have lost their way to tilbury come and ask you the name of the _betty's_ owner, tell them she belongs to the bishop of london." he touched his cap quite gravely. "yessir," he said. "good-night, sir." "good-night, mr. gow," i replied, and scrambling up the bank, i set off on my return journey. chapter xviii a new clue to an old crime it was exactly half-past ten on tuesday morning when i sat down on the rough wooden bench in my workshop with a little gasp of relief and exhaustion. before me, on the lead slab, was a small pile of dark brown powder, which an innocent stranger would in all probability have taken for finely ground coffee. it was not coffee, however; it was the fruit of four days and nights of about the most unremitting toil that any human being has ever accomplished. unless i was wrong--utterly and hopelessly wrong--i had enough of the new explosive in front of me to blow this particular bit of marsh and salting into the middle of next week. i leaned forward, and picking up a fistful, allowed it to trickle slowly through my fingers. the stuff was quite safe to handle; that was one of its beauties. i could have put a lighted match to it or thrown it on the fire without the faintest risk; the only possible method of releasing its appalling power being the explosion of a few grains of gunpowder or dynamite in its immediate vicinity. i had no intention of allowing that interesting event to occur until i had made certain necessary preparations. i was still contemplating my handiwork with a sort of fatigued pride, when a sudden sound outside attracted my attention. getting up and looking through the shed window, i discovered a telegraph-boy standing by the hut, apparently engaged in hunting for the bell. "all right, sonny," i called out. "bring it along here." i walked to the door, and the next minute i was being handed an envelope addressed to me at the tilbury post-office in joyce's handwriting. "it came the last post yesterday," explained the lad. "we couldn't let you have it until this morning because there wasn't any one to send." "well, sit down a moment, charles," i said; "and i'll just see if there's any answer." he seated himself on the bench, staring round at everything with obvious interest. with a pleasant feeling of anticipation i slit open the envelope and pulled out its contents. "chelsea, "_monday._ "dearest james, "it looks rather nice written--doesn't it! i am coming down tomorrow by the train which gets into tilbury at . . i shall walk across to the _betty_ and sit there peacefully till you turn up. whatever stage the work is at, don't be later than . . i shall have supper ready by then--and it will be a supper worth eating. my poor darling, you must be simply starved. i've lots to tell you, james, but it will keep till tomorrow. "with all my love, "joyce." i read this through (it was so like joyce i could almost fancy i heard her speaking), and then i turned to the telegraph-boy, who was still occupied in taking stock of his surroundings. "there's no answer, thank you, charles," i said. "how much do i owe you?" he pulled himself together abruptly. "it will be two shillings, the post-office fee, sir." "well, there it is," i said; "and there's another shilling for yourself." he jumped up and pocketed the coins with an expression of gratitude. then he paused irresolutely. "beg pardon, sir," he observed, "but ain't you a gentleman who makes things?" i laughed. "we most of us do that, charles," i said, "if they're only mistakes." he looked round the shed with an expression of slight awe. "can you make fireworks?" he asked. i glanced instinctively at the little heap of powder. "of a kind," i admitted modestly. "why?" he gave an envious sigh. "i only wondered if it was hard, sir. i'd rather be able to make fireworks than do anything." "it's not very hard," i said consolingly. "you go on bringing my letters and telegrams for me like a good boy directly they arrive, and before i leave here i'll show you how to do it. only you mustn't talk about it to anybody, or i shall have everyone asking me the same thing." his face brightened, and stammering out his thanks and his determination to keep the bargain a profound secret, he reluctantly took his departure. i felt that in future, whatever happened, i was pretty certain to get anything which turned up for me at the post-office without undue delay. for the next half-hour or so i amused myself by constructing a kind of amateur magazine outside the hut in which to store my precious powder. it was safe enough in a way above ground, as i have already mentioned, but with inquisitive strangers like mr. latimer prowling around, i certainly didn't mean to leave a grain of it about while i was absent from the shed. i packed it all away in a waterproof iron box, which i had specially ordered for the purpose, and buried it in the hole that i had dug outside. then i covered the latter over with a couple of pieces of turf, and carefully removed all traces of my handiwork. it was not until i had finished this little job that i suddenly realized how tired i was. for the last four days i had scarcely stirred outside the shed, and i don't suppose i had averaged more than three hours' sleep a night the whole time. the excitement and interest of my work had kept me going, and now that it was over i found that i was almost dropping with fatigue. i locked up the place, and walking across to the hut, opened myself one of the bottles of champagne which i had so thoughtfully purchased at the off-licence. it was not exactly a vintage wine, but i was in no mood to be over-critical, and i drank off a couple of glasses with the utmost appreciation. then i lay down on the bed, and in less than five minutes i was sleeping like a log. i woke up at exactly half-past four. however tired i am, a few hours' sleep always puts me right again, and by the time i had had a wash and changed into a clean shirt, i felt as fresh as a daisy. i decided to walk straight over to the _betty_. i knew that by this time joyce would be on board, and as there was nothing else to be done in the shed, i thought i might just as well join her now as later. i had been too busy to miss any one very much the last four days, but now that the strain was over i felt curiously hungry to see her again. besides, i was longing to hear what news she had brought about tommy and george. with a view to contributing some modest item towards the supper programme, i shoved the other bottle of champagne into my pocket, and then lighting a cigar, locked up the place, and set off for the creek by my usual route. the tide was very high, and on several occasions i had to scramble up and make my way along the sea-wall in full view of the marsh and the roadway. fortunately, however, there seemed, as usual, to be no one about, and i reached the mouth of the creek without much fear of having been watched or followed. the _betty_ was there all right, but i could see no sign of any one on board. i walked up the creek until i was exactly opposite where she was lying, and then putting my hands to my lips i gave her a gentle hail. in an instant joyce's head appeared out of the cabin, and the next moment she was on deck waving me a joyous welcome with the frying-pan. "oh, it's you!" she cried. "how lovely! half a second, and i'll come over and fetch you." "where's mr. gow?" i called out. "he's gone home. i sent him off for a holiday. there's no one on board but me." she scrambled aft, and unshipping the dinghy, came sculling towards me across the intervening water. she was wearing a white jersey, and with her arms bare and her hair shining in the sunlight, she made a picture that only a blind man would have failed to find inspiring. she brought up right against the bank where i was standing, and leaning over, caught hold of the grass. "jump," she said. "i'll hang on." i jumped, and the next moment i was beside her in the boat, and we were hugging each other as cheerfully and naturally as two children. "you dear, to come so soon!" she said. "i wasn't expecting you for ages." i kissed her again, and then, picking up the oars, pushed off from the bank. "joyce," i said, "i've done it! i've made enough of the blessed stuff to blow up half tilbury." she clapped her hands joyfully. "how splendid! i knew you would. have you tried it?" i shook my head. "not yet," i said. "we'll do it early tomorrow morning, before any one's about." then, digging in my scull to avoid a desolate-looking beacon, i added anxiously: "what about tommy? is he coming?" joyce nodded. "he'll be down tomorrow. i've got a letter for you from him. he saw mr. latimer last night." "did he!" said i. "things are moving with a vengeance. what about the gentle george?" joyce laughed softly. "oh," she said; "i've such lots to tell you, i hardly know where to start." i ran the boat alongside the _betty_, and we both climbed on board. "suppose we start by having some tea," i suggested. "i'm dying for a cup." "you poor dear," said joyce. "of course you shall have one. you can read what tommy says while i'm getting it ready." she fetched the letter out of the cabin, and sitting in the well i proceeded to decipher the three foolscap pages of hieroglyphics which tommy is pleased to describe as his handwriting. as far as i could make out they ran as follows: "my dear neil, "i suppose i oughtn't to begin like that, in case somebody else got hold of the letter. it doesn't matter really, however, because joyce is bringing it down, and you can tear the damn thing up as soon as you've read it. "well, i've seen latimer. i wrote to him directly i got back, reminded him who i was, and told him i wanted to have a chat with him about some very special private business. he asked me to come round to his rooms in jermyn street last night at ten o'clock, and i was there till pretty near midnight. "i thought i was bound to find out something, but good lord, neil, it came off in a way i'd never dared hope for. practically speaking, i've got to the bottom of the whole business--at least so far as latimer's concerned. you see he either had to explain or else tell me to go to the devil, and as he thought i was a perfectly safe sort of chap to be honest with, he decided to make a clean breast of it. "to start with, it's very much what we suspected. latimer _is_ a secret service man, and that's how he comes to be mixed up in the job. it seems that some little while ago the admiralty or one of the other government departments got it into their heads that there were a number of germans over in england spying out the land in view of a possible row over this servian business. latimer was told off amongst others to look into the matter. he had been sniffing around for some weeks without much luck, when more or less by chance he dropped across the track of those two very identical beauties who ran down gow's boat in the thames last friday. "somehow or other they must have got wind of the fact that he was after them, and they evidently made up their minds to get rid of him. they seem to have set about it rather neatly. the man with the scar, who is either one of them or else in with them, introduced himself to latimer as a member of the french secret service. he pretended that he had some special information about the case in hand, and although latimer was a bit suspicious, he agreed to dine at parelli's and hear what the fellow had to say. "well, you know the rest of that little incident. if it hadn't been for you there's not the faintest doubt that latimer would have copped it all right, and i can tell you he's by way of being rather particularly grateful. i was specially instructed to send you a message to that effect next time i was writing. "what the connection is between your crowd and these germans i can't exactly make out. of course if you're right in your idea about the chap with the scar spying on you in london it's perfectly obvious they're working together in some way. at the same time i'm quite sure that latimer knows nothing about it. the reason he came down to look at the hut on friday was because a report about it had been sent to him by one of his men--he has two fellows working under him--and he thought it might have something to do with the germans. he described the way you had caught him quite frankly, and told me how he'd had to invent a lie about the surveyor in order to get out of it. "exactly what he means to do next i don't know. he has got some plan on, and i've a notion he wants me to help him--at least he sounded me pretty plainly last night as to whether i'd be game to lend him a hand. i need hardly tell you i jumped at the idea. it seems to me our only possible chance of finding out anything. i am to see him or hear from him tomorrow, and directly i know what's in the wind i'll either write to you or come and look you up. "joyce will tell you all about george and mcmurtrie. if they aren't both up to some kind of particularly dirty mischief i'll eat my whole wardrobe. we must talk it over thoroughly when we meet. "i'm longing to see you again, and hear all about the work and what's been going on down there. "so long, old son, "yours as ever, "tommy." i was just making out the last words, when joyce emerged from the cabin, carrying some tea on a tray. "here you are, neil," she said. "i have cut you only two slices of bread and butter, because i don't want you to spoil your supper. there's cold pheasant and peas and new potatoes." i pulled out the bottle of champagne from my pocket. "if they're as new as this wine," i observed, "they ought to be delicious." joyce accepted my contribution, and after reading the label, placed it carefully on the floor of the well. "sarcon et fils," she repeated. "i always thought they made vinegar." "perhaps they do," i replied. "we shall know when we drink it." joyce laughed, and sitting down beside me, poured me out a cup of tea. "you've read tommy's letter," she said. "what do you think about it?" i took a long drink. "from the little i've seen of mr. bruce latimer," i said, "i should put him down as being one of the most accomplished liars in england." i paused. "at the same time," i added, "i think he's a fine fellow. i like his face." joyce nodded her head. "but you don't believe his story?" i shrugged my shoulders. "it may be true," i said. "tommy seems to think so anyhow. if it is, things are a bit simpler than i imagined--that's all." "and if it isn't?" said joyce. "ah!" said i, "if it isn't--" i left the sentence unfinished, and helped myself to a second bit of bread and butter. there was a short silence. "tell me about george, joyce," i went on. "what are these particular dark doings that tommy's hinting about?" joyce leaned forward with her chin on her hands, her blue eyes fixed on mine. "neil," she said slowly, "i've found out something at last--something i thought i was never going to. i know who the man was in marks's rooms on the day that he was murdered." i was so surprised that i gulped down a mouthful of nearly boiling tea. "i wish you'd break these things more gently, joyce," i said. "who was it?" "it was dr. mcmurtrie." i put down the teacup and stared at her in the blankest amazement. "dr. mcmurtrie!" i repeated incredulously. she nodded. "listen, and i'll tell you exactly how it all happened. i dined with george, as you know, at the savoy on friday, and we went into the whole business of my going away with him. he has got that twelve thousand pounds, neil; there's no doubt about it. he showed me the entry in his pass-book and the acknowledgment from the bank, and he even offered to write me a cheque for a couple of hundred right away, to buy clothes with for the trip." "from what i remember of george," i said, "he must be desperately in love with you." joyce gave a little shiver of disgust. "of course i let him think i was giving way. i wanted to find out where the money had come from, but try as i would, i couldn't get him to tell me. that makes me feel so certain there's something wrong about it. in the end i arranged to dine with him again tomorrow night, when i said i'd give him my final answer. on saturday morning, however, i changed my mind, and wrote him a note to say i'd come thursday instead. i didn't mean to tie myself to be back tomorrow, in case you wanted me here." she paused. "i had to go up victoria street, so i thought i'd leave the letter at his office. i'd just got there, and i was standing outside the door opening my bag, when a man came down the steps. i looked up as he passed, and--oh neil!--it was all i could do to stop myself from screaming. i knew him at once; i knew his cold wicked face just as well as if it had been only three days instead of three years. it was the man i'd seen in marks's rooms on the afternoon of the murder." she stopped again, and took a deep breath. "i was horribly excited, and yet at the same time i felt quite cool. i let him get about ten yards away down the street, and then i started off after him. he walked as far as the stores. then he called an empty taxi that was coming past, and i heard him tell the driver to go to the hotel russell. i thought about how you'd followed the man with the scar, and i made up my mind i'd do the same thing. i had to wait for several seconds before another taxi came by, but directly it did i jumped in and told the man to drive me to the corner of russell square. "i got there just as the other taxi was drawing up in front of the hotel. a porter came forward and opened the door, and i saw the man get out and go up the steps. i waited for one moment, and then i walked along to the entrance myself. the porter was still standing there, so i went straight up to him and asked him quite simply what the name of the gentleman was who had just gone inside. he sort of hesitated, and then he said to me: 'that gentleman, miss?--that's dr. mcmurtrie.'" once more she paused, and, pushing away the tray, i lit myself a cigar. "it's lucky you've had some practice in surprises," i observed. joyce nodded. "of course i was absolutely flabbergasted, but i don't think i showed anything. i sort of rummaged in my bag for a minute till i'd recovered; then i gave the man half a crown and asked him if he knew how long dr. mcmurtrie was staying. i think he was in doubt as to whether i was a female detective or a lady reporter; anyhow he took the money and said he was very sorry he didn't know, but that if i wanted an interview at any time he had no doubt it might be arranged. i thanked him, and said it didn't matter for the moment, and there i thought it best to leave things. you see i knew that whether mcmurtrie stayed on at the russell or not you were bound to see him again, and there was nothing to be gained by asking questions which the porter would probably repeat to him. it would only have helped to put him on his guard--wouldn't it?" "my dear joyce," i said, "i think you did splendidly. sherlock holmes couldn't have done better." i got up and walked to the end of the cockpit. "but good lord!" i added, "this does complicate matters. you're absolutely certain it was mcmurtrie you saw at marks's flat?" "absolutely," repeated joyce with emphasis. "i should remember his face if i lived to be a hundred." i clenched my fists in a sudden spasm of anger. "there's some damned villainy underneath all this, joyce," i said. "if mcmurtrie was there that afternoon the odds are that he knows who committed the murder." "he did it himself," said joyce calmly. "i'm as sure of it as i am that i'm sitting here." "but why?" i demanded--"why? who on earth _was_ marks? nobody in chelsea seemed to know anything about him, and nothing came out at the trial. why should any one have wanted to kill him except me?" joyce shook her head. "i don't know," she said stubbornly; "but i'm quite certain it was mcmurtrie. i feel it inside me." "and in any case," i continued, "what the devil is he doing messing about with george? i'm the only connecting-link between them, and he can't possibly mean to betray me--at all events, until he's got the secret of the powder. he knows george would give me up tomorrow." joyce made a gesture of perplexity. "i know," she said. "it's an absolute mystery to me too. i've been puzzling and puzzling over it till my head aches, and i can't see any sort of explanation at all." "the only thing that's quite plain," i said, "is the fact that mcmurtrie and savaroff have been lying to me from the start. they are no more powder-merchants than you are. they want to get hold of my invention for some reason--to make money out of it, i suppose--and then they're prepared to clear out and leave me to george and the police. at least, that's what it's beginning to look like." "well, anyhow," said joyce, "you're not tied to them any longer by your promise." "no," i said; "it takes two to keep a bargain. besides," i added rather bitterly, "i can afford the privilege of breaking my word. it's only what you'd expect from a convict." joyce got up, and coming to where i was sitting, slipped her arm through mine and softly stroked my hand. "don't, neil," she said. "i hate you to say anything that isn't fine and generous. it's like hearing music out of tune." i drew her to me, and half closing her eyes, she laid her cheek against mine. we remained silent for a moment or two, and then, giving her a little hug, i sat up and took hold of her hands. "look here, joyce," i said, "we won't just bother about anything for the rest of the day. we'll be cheerful and jolly and foolish, like we were on friday. god knows how all this infernal tangle is going to pan out, but we may as well snatch one evening's happiness out of it while we've got the chance." joyce kissed me, and then jumping lightly from the seat, pulled me up with her. "we will," she said. "after all, we've got a boat and a lovely evening and a cold pheasant and a bottle of champagne--what more can any one want?" "well," i said, "it may sound greedy, but as a matter of fact i want some of those peas and new potatoes you were talking about just now." she let go my hands, and opening one of the lockers, took out a large basin with a couple of bags in it. "there you are," she laughed. "you can skin them and shell them while i wash up the tea-things and lay the table. it's a man's duty to do the dangerous work." joyce had always had the gift of scattering a kind of infectious gaiety around her, and that night she seemed to be in her most bewitching and delightful mood. i think she made up her mind to try and wipe out from my memory for the time being all thoughts of the somewhat harassed state of existence in which it had pleased providence to land me. if so, she succeeded admirably. we cooked the supper between us. i boiled the peas and potatoes, and then, when we had done the first course, joyce got up and made a brilliantly successful french omelette out of some fresh eggs which she had brought down for that inspired purpose. it was very charming in the little low-ceilinged cabin, with the lamp swinging overhead and no sound outside but the soft lapping of the tide upon the sides of the boat. we lay and talked for some time after we had finished, while i smoked a cigar, and joyce, stretched out luxuriously on the other bunk, indulged in a couple of cigarettes. "we won't wash up," i said. "i'll just shove everything through into the fo'c's'le, and we'll leave them there for mr. gow. a certain amount of exercise will be good for him after his holiday." "do," said joyce sleepily. "and then come and sit over here, neil. i want to stroke your hair." i cleared away the things, and shutting up the table, which worked on a hinge, spread out my own cushions on the floor alongside of joyce's bunk. the latter was just low enough to let me rest my head comfortably on her shoulder. how long we lay like that i really don't know. my whole body and mind were steeped in a strange, delightful sense of peace and contentment, and i began to realize, i think for the first time, how utterly necessary and dear to me joyce had become. i slid my arm underneath her--she lay close up against me, her hair, which she had loosened from its fastenings, half covering us both in its soft beauty. the lamp flickered and died down, but we didn't trouble to relight it. outside the night grew darker and darker, and through the open hatch we could just see a solitary star shining down on us from between two banks of cloud. cool and sweet, a faint breeze drifted in from the silent marshes. then, quite suddenly, it seemed to me, a strange madness and music filled the night for both of us. i only knew that joyce was in my arms and that we were kissing each other with fierce, unheeding passion. there were tears on her cheeks--little sweet, salt tears of love and happiness that felt all wet against my lips. it was only a moment--just one brief moment of unutterable beauty--and then i remembered. with a groan i half raised myself in the darkness. "i must go, joyce," i whispered. "i can't stay here. i daren't." she slipped her soft bare arms round my neck, and drew my face down to hers. "don't go," she whispered back. "not if you don't want to. what does it matter? i am all yours, neil, anyway." for a moment i felt her warm fragrant breath upon my face, and her heart beating quickly against mine. then, with an effort--a big effort--i tore myself away. "joyce dear," i said, "it would only make things worse. oh, my dear sweet joyce, i want you like the night wants the dawn, but we can't cheat life. suppose we fail--suppose there's only death or prison in front of me. it will be hard enough now, but if--" i broke off, and with a little sob joyce sat up and felt for my hand. "you're right, darling," she said; "but oh, my dear, my dear!" she lifted up my hand and passed it softly backwards and forwards across her eyes. then, with a little laugh that had tears close behind it, she added: "do you know, my neil, i'm conceited enough to think you're rather wonderful." i bent down and kissed her with infinite tenderness. "i am, joyce," i said. "exactly how wonderful you'll never know." then i lifted her up in my arms, and we went out of the cabin into the cool darkness of the night. "i'll row myself ashore," i said, "and leave the dinghy on the beach. i shall be back about four o'clock, if that's not too early for you. we ought to get our explosion over before there's any one about." joyce nodded. "i don't mind how early you come. the sooner the better." "try and get some sleep," i added; "you'll be tired out tomorrow if you don't." "i'll try," said joyce simply; "but i don't think i shall. i'm not even sure i want to." i kissed her once more, and slipping down into the dinghy, pulled off for the shore. everything around was dark and silent--the faint splash of my oars alone breaking the utter stillness. landing at my usual spot, more by luck than judgment, i tugged the boat up out of reach of the tide, and then, turning round, waved good-night to the _betty_. it was too dark to see anything, but i think joyce sent me back my message. chapter xix launching a new invention the eastern sky was just flushing into light when i got back to the creek at four o'clock. it was a beautiful morning--cool and still--with the sweet freshness of early dawn in the air, and the promise of a long unclouded day of spring sunshine. i tugged the dinghy down to the water, and pushed off for the _betty_, which looked strangely small and unreal lying there in the dim, mysterious twilight. the sound i made as i drew near must have reached joyce's ears. she was up on deck in a moment, fully dressed, and with her hair twisted into a long bronze plait that hung down some way below her waist. she looked as fresh and fair as the dawn itself. "beautifully punctual," she called out over the side. "i knew you would be, so i started getting breakfast." i caught hold of the gunwale and scrambled on board. "it's like living at the savoy," i said. "breakfast was a luxury that had never entered my head." "well, it's going to now," she returned, "unless you're in too great a hurry to start. it's all ready in the cabin." "we can spare ten minutes certainly," i said. "experiments should always be made on a full body." i tied up the dinghy and followed her inside, where the table was decorated with bread and butter and the remnants of the cold pheasant, while a kettle hissed away cheerfully on the primus. "i don't believe you've been to bed at all, joyce," i said. "and yet you look as if you'd just slipped out of paradise by accident." she laughed, and putting her hand in my side-pocket, took out my handkerchief to lift off the kettle with. "i didn't want to sleep," she said. "i was too happy, and too miserable. it's the widest-awake mixture i ever tried." then, picking up the teapot, she added curiously: "where's the powder? i expected to see you arrive with a large keg over your shoulder." i sat down at the table and produced a couple of glass flasks, tightly corked. "here you are," i said. "this is ordinary gunpowder, and this other one's my stuff. it looks harmless enough, doesn't it?" joyce took both flasks and examined them with interest. "you've not brought very much of it," she said. "i was hoping we were going to have a really big blow-up." "it will be big enough," i returned consolingly, "unless i've made a mistake." "where are you going to do it?" she asked. "somewhere at the back of canvey island," i said. "there's no one to wake up there except the sea-gulls, and we can be out of sight round the corner before it explodes. i've got about twenty feet of fuse, which will give us at least a quarter of an hour to get away in." "what fun!" exclaimed joyce. "i feel just like an anarchist or something; and it's lovely to know that one's launching a new invention. we ought to have kept that bottle of champagne to christen it with." "yes," i said regretfully; "it was the real christening brand too." there was a short silence. "i've thought of a name for it," cried joyce suddenly. "the powder, i mean. we'll call it lyndonite. it sounds like something that goes off with a bang, doesn't it?" i laughed. "it would probably suggest that to the prison authorities," i said. "anyhow, lyndonite it shall be." we finished breakfast, and going up on deck i proceeded to haul in the anchor, while joyce stowed away the crockery and provisions below. for once in a way the engine started without much difficulty, and as the tide was running out fast it didn't take us very long to reach the mouth of the creek. once outside, i set a course down stream as close to the northern shore as i dared go. except for a rusty-looking steam tramp we had the whole river to ourselves, not even a solitary barge breaking the long stretch of grey water. one by one the old landmarks--mucking lighthouse, the thames cattle wharf, and hole haven--were left behind, and at last the entrance to the creek that runs round behind canvey island came into sight. one would never accuse it of being a cheerful, bustling sort of place at the best of times, but at five o'clock in the morning it seemed the very picture of uninhabited desolation. a better locality in which to enjoy a little quiet practice with new explosives it would be difficult to imagine. i navigated the _betty_ in rather gingerly, for it was over three years since i had visited the spot. joyce kept on sounding diligently with the lead either side of the boat, and at last we brought up in about one and a half fathom, just comfortably out of sight of the main stream. "this will do nicely," i said. "we'll turn her round first, and then i'll row into the bank and fix things up under that tree over there. we can be back in the river before anything happens." "can't we stop and watch?" asked joyce. "i should love to see it go off." i shook my head. "unless i've made a mistake," i said, "it will be much healthier round the corner. we'll come back and see what's happened afterwards." by the aid of some delicate manoeuvring i brought the _betty_ round, and then getting into the dinghy pulled myself ashore. it was quite unnecessary for my experiment to make any complicated preparations. all i had to do was to dig a hole in the bank with a trowel that i had brought for the purpose, empty my stuff into that, and tip in the gunpowder on top. when i had finished i covered the whole thing over with earth, leaving a clear passage for the fuse, and then lighting the end of the latter, jumped back into the boat and pulled off rapidly for the _betty_. we didn't waste any time dawdling about. joyce seized the painter as i climbed on board, and hurrying to the tiller i started off down the creek as fast as we could go, taking very particular pains not to run aground. we had reached the mouth, and i was swinging her round into the main river, when a sudden rumbling roar disturbed the peacefulness of the dawn. joyce, who was staring out over the stern, gave a little startled cry, and glancing hastily back i was just in time to see a disintegrated-looking tree soaring gaily up into the air in the midst of a huge column of dust and smoke. the next moment a rain of falling fragments of earth and wood came splashing down into the water--a few stray pieces actually reaching the _betty_, which rocked vigorously as a minature tidal wave swept after us up the creek. i put down my helm and brought her round so as to face the stricken field. "we seem to have done it, joyce," i observed with some contentment. she gave a little gasping sort of laugh. "it was splendid!" she said. "but, oh, neil, what appalling stuff it must be! it's blown up half canvey island!" "never mind," i said cheerfully. "there are plenty of other islands left. let's get into the dinghy and see what the damage really amounts to. i fancy it's fairly useful." we anchored the _betty_, and then pulled up the creek towards the scene of the explosion, where a gaping aperture in the bank was plainly visible. as we drew near i saw that it extended, roughly speaking, in a half-circle of perhaps twenty yards diameter. the whole of this, which had previously been a solid bank of grass and earth, was now nothing but a muddy pool. of the unfortunate tree which had marked the site there was not a vestige remaining. i regarded it all from the boat with the complacent pride of a successful inventor. "it's even better than i expected, joyce," i said. "if one can do this with three-quarters of a pound, just fancy the effect of a couple of hundredweight. it would shift half london." joyce nodded. "they'll be more anxious than ever to get hold of it, when they know," she said. "what are you going to do? write and tell mcmurtrie that you've succeeded?" "i haven't quite decided," i answered. "i shall wait till tomorrow or the next day, anyhow. i want to hear what sonia has got to say first." then, backing away the boat, i added: "we'd better get out of this as soon as we can. it's just possible some one may have heard the explosion and come pushing along to find out what's the matter. people are so horribly inquisitive." joyce laughed. "it would be rather awkward, wouldn't it? we couldn't very well say it was an earthquake. it looks too neat and tidy." fortunately for us, if there was any one in the neighbourhood who had heard the noise, they were either too lazy or too incurious to investigate the cause. we got back on board the _betty_ and took her out into the main stream without seeing a sign of any one except ourselves. the hull of the steam tramp was just visible in the far distance, but except for that the river was still pleasantly deserted. "what shall we do now, joyce?" i asked. "it seems to me that this is an occasion which distinctly requires celebrating." joyce thought for a moment. "let's go for a long sail," she suggested, "and then put in at southend and have asparagus for lunch." i looked at her with affectionate approval. "you always have beautiful ideas," i said. then a sudden inspiration seized me. "i've got it!" i cried. "what do you say to running down to sheppey and paying a call on our german pals?" joyce's blue eyes sparkled. "it would be lovely," she said, with a deep breath; "but dare we risk it?" "there's no risk," i rejoined. "when i said 'pay a call,' i didn't mean it quite literally. my idea was to cruise along the coast and just find out exactly where their precious bungalow is, and what they do with that launch of theirs when they're not swamping inquisitive boatmen. it's the sort of information that might turn out useful." joyce nodded. "we'll go," she said briefly. "what about the tide?" "oh, the tide doesn't matter," i replied. "it will be dead out by the time we get to southend; but we only draw about three foot six, and we can cut across through the jenkin swatch. there's water enough off sheppey to float a battleship." it was the work of a few minutes to pull in the anchor and haul up the sails, which filled immediately to a slight breeze that had just sprung up from the west. leaving a still peaceful, if somewhat mutilated, canvey island behind us, we started off down the river, gliding along with an agreeable smoothness that fitted in very nicely with my state of mind. indeed i don't think i had ever felt anything so nearly approaching complete serenity since my escape from dartmoor. it is true that the tangle in which i was involved, appeared more threatening and complicated than ever, but one gets so used to sitting on a powder mine that the situation was gradually ceasing to distress me. at all events i had made my explosive, and that was one great step towards a solution of some sort. if mcmurtrie was prepared to play the game with me i should in a few days be in what the newspapers call "a position of comparative affluence," while if his intentions were less straightforward i should at least have some definite idea as to where i was. sonia's promised disclosures were a guarantee of that. but apart from these considerations the mere fact of having joyce sitting beside me in the boat while we bowled along cheerfully through the water was quite enough in itself to account for my new-found happiness. one realizes some things in life with curious abruptness, and i knew now how deeply and passionately i loved her. i suppose i had always done so really, but she had been little more than a child in the old chelsea days, and the sort of brotherly tenderness and pride i had had for her must have blinded me to the truth. anyhow it was out now; out beyond any question of doubt or argument. she was as necessary and dear to me as the stars are to the night, and it seemed ridiculously impossible to contemplate any sort of existence without her. not that i wasted much energy attempting the feat; the present was sufficiently charming to occupy my entire time. we passed leigh and southend, the former with its fleet of fishing-smacks and the latter with its long unlovely pier, and then nosed our way delicately into the jenkin swatch, that convenient ditch which runs right across the mouth of the thames. the sun was now high in the sky, and one could see signs of activity on the various barges that were hanging about the neighbourhood waiting for the tide. i pointed away past the nore lightship towards a bit of rising ground on the low-lying sheppey coast. "that's about where our pals are hanging out," i said. "there's a little deep-water creek there, which tommy and i used to use sometimes, and according to mr. gow their bungalow is close by." joyce peered out under her hand across the intervening water. "it's a nice situation," she observed, "for artists." i laughed. "yes," i said. "they are so close to sheerness and shoeburyness, and other places of beauty. i expect they've done quite a lot of quiet sketching." we reached the end of the swatch, and leaving queenborough, with its grim collection of battleships and coal hulks, to starboard, we stood out to sea along the coastline. it was a fairly long sail to the place which i had pointed out to joyce, but with a light breeze behind her the _betty_ danced along so gaily that we covered the distance in a surprisingly short time. as we drew near, joyce got out tommy's field-glasses from the cabin, and kneeling up on the seat in the well, focused them carefully on the spot. "there's the entrance to the creek all right," she said, "but i don't see any sign of a bungalow anywhere." she moved the glasses slowly from side to side. "oh, yes," she exclaimed suddenly, "i've got it now--right up on the cliff there, away to the left. one can only just see the roof, though, and it seems some way from the creek." she resigned the glasses to me, and took over the tiller, while i had a turn at examining the coast. i soon made out the roof of the bungalow, which, as joyce had said, was the only part visible. it stood in a very lonely position, high up on a piece of rising ground, and half hidden from the sea by what seemed like a thick privet hedge. to judge by the smoke which i could just discern rising from its solitary chimney, it looked as if the occupants were addicted to the excellent habit of early rising. there was no other sign of them to be seen, however, and if the launch was lying anywhere about, it was at all events invisible from the sea. i refreshed my memory with a long, careful scrutiny of the entrance to the creek, and then handing the glasses back to joyce i again assumed control of the boat. "well," i observed, "we haven't wasted the morning. we know where their bungalow door is, anyway." joyce nodded. "it may come in very handy," she said, "in case you ever want to pay them a surprise call." exactly how soon that contingency was going to occur we neither of us guessed or imagined! we reached the nore lightship, and waving a courteous greeting to a patient-looking gentleman who was spitting over the side, commenced our long beat back in the direction of southend. it was slow work, for the tide was only just beginning to turn, and the wind, such as there was of it, was dead in our faces. however, i don't think either joyce or i found the time hang heavily on our hands. if one can't be happy with the sun and the sea and the person one loves best in the world, it seems to me that one must be unreasonably difficult to please. we fetched up off southend pier at just about eleven o'clock. a hoarse-voiced person in a blue jersey, who was leaning over the end, pointed us out some moorings that we were at liberty to pick up, and then watched us critically while i stowed away the sails and locked up everything in the boat which it was possible to steal. i had been to southend before in the old days. these simple precautions concluded, joyce and i got in the dinghy and rowed to the steps. we were met by the gentleman in blue, who considerately offered to keep his eye on the boat for us while i "and the lady" enjoyed what he called "a run round the town." i accepted his proposal, and having agreed with his statement that it was "a nice morning for a sail," set off with joyce along the mile of pier that separated us from the shore. i don't know that our adventures for the next two or three hours call for any detailed description. we wandered leisurely and cheerfully through the town, buying each other one or two trifles in the way of presents, and then adjourned for lunch to a large and rather dazzling hotel that dominated the sea front. it was a new effort on the part of southend since my time, but, as joyce said, it "looked the sort of place where one was likely to get asparagus." its appearance did not belie it. at a corner table in the window, looking out over the sea, we disposed of what the waiter described as "two double portions" of that agreeable vegetable, together with an excellent steak and a bottle of sound if slightly too sweet burgundy. then over a couple of cigarettes we discussed our immediate plans. "i think i'd better catch the three-thirty back," said joyce. "i've got one or two things i want to do before i meet george, and in any case you mustn't stay here too long or you'll miss the tide." "that doesn't really matter," i said. "only i suppose i ought to get back just in case tommy has turned up. i can't leave him sitting on a mud-flat all night." joyce laughed. "he'd probably be a little peevish in the morning. men are so unreasonable." i leaned across the table and took her hand. "when are you coming down again?" i asked. "tomorrow?" joyce thought for a moment. "tomorrow or the next day. it all depends if i see a chance of getting anything more out of george. i'll write to you or send you a wire, dear, anyhow." i nodded. "all right," i said; "and look here, joyce; you may as well come straight to the hut next time. it's not the least likely there'll be any one there except me, and if there was you could easily pretend you wanted to ask the way to tilbury. you see, if gow wasn't about, you would have to pull the dinghy all the way down the bank before you got on board the _betty_, and that's a nice, muddy, shin-scraping sort of job at the best of times." "very well," said joyce. then squeezing my hand a little tighter she added: "and my own neil, you _will_ be careful, won't you? i always seem to be asking you that, but, oh my dear, if you knew how horribly frightened i am of anything happening to you. it will be worse than ever now, after last night. i don't seem to feel it when i'm actually with you--i suppose i'm too happy--but when i'm away from you it's just like some ghastly horrible sword hanging over our heads all the time. neil darling, as soon as you get this money from mcmurtrie--if you do get it--can't we just give up the whole thing and go away and be happy together?" i lifted her hand and pressed the inside of it against my lips. "joyce," i said, "think what it means. it's just funking life--just giving it up because the odds seem too heavy against us. i shouldn't have minded killing marks in the least. i should be rather proud of it. if i had, we would go away together tomorrow, and i should never worry my head as to what any one in the world was saying or thinking about me." i paused. "but i didn't kill him," i added slowly, "and that just makes all the difference." joyce's blue eyes were very near tears, but they looked back steadily and bravely into mine. "yes, yes," she said. "i didn't really mean it, neil. i was just weak for the moment--that's all. right down in my heart i want everything for you; i could never be contented with less. i want the whole world to know how they've wronged you; i want you to be famous and powerful and splendid, and i want the people who've abused you to come and smirk and grovel to you, and say that they knew all the time that you were innocent." she stopped and took a deep breath. "and they shall, neil. i'm as certain of it as if i saw it happening. i seem to know inside me that we're on the very point of finding out the truth." i don't think my worst enemy would accuse me of being superstitious, but there was a ring of conviction in joyce's voice which somehow or other affected me curiously. "i believe you're right," i said. "i've got something of that sort of feeling too. perhaps it's infectious." then, letting go her hand, to spare the feelings of the waiter who had just come into the room, i sat back in my chair and ordered the bill. we didn't talk much on our way to the station. i think we were both feeling rather depressed at the prospect of doing without each other for at least twenty-four hours, and in any case the trams and motors and jostling crowd of holiday-makers who filled the main street would have rendered any connected conversation rather a difficult art. a good many people favoured joyce with glances of admiration, especially a spruce-looking young constable who officially held up the traffic to allow us to cross the road. he paid no attention at all to me, but i consoled myself with the reflection that he was missing an excellent chance of promotion. at the station i put joyce into a first-class carriage, kissed her affectionately under the disapproving eye of an old lady in the opposite corner, and then stood on the platform until the train steamed slowly out of the station. i turned away at last, feeling quite unpleasantly alone. it's no good worrying about what can't be altered, however, so, lighting a cigar, i strolled back philosophically to the hotel, where i treated myself to the luxury of a hot bath before rejoining the boat. it must have been pretty nearly half-past four by the time i reached the pier-head. my friend with the hoarse voice and the blue jersey was still hanging around, looking rather thirsty and exhausted after his strenuous day's work of watching over the dinghy. i gave him half a crown for his trouble, and followed by his benediction pulled off for the _betty_. the wind had gone round a bit to the south, and as the tide was still coming in i decided to sail up to the creek in preference to using the engine. the confounded throb of the latter always got on my nerves, and apart from that i felt that the mere fact of having to handle the sails would keep my mind lightly but healthily occupied. unless i was mistaken, a little light healthy occupation was exactly what my mind needed. as occasionally happens on exceptionally fine days in late spring, the perfect clearness of the afternoon was gradually beginning to give place to a sort of fine haze. it was not thick enough, however, to bother me in any way, and under a jib and mainsail the _betty_ swished along at such a satisfactory pace that i was in sight of gravesend reach before either the light or the tide had time to fail me. i thought i knew the entrance to the creek well enough by now to run her in under sail, though it was a job that required a certain amount of cautious handling. anyhow i decided to risk it, and, heading for the shore, steered her up the narrow channel, which i had been careful to take the bearings of at low water. i was so engrossed in this feat of navigation that i took no notice of anything else, until a voice from the bank abruptly attracted my attention. i looked up with a start, nearly running myself aground, and there on the bank i saw a gesticulating figure, which i immediately recognized as that of tommy. i shouted a greeting back, and swinging the _betty_ round, brought up in almost the identical place where we had anchored on the previous night. tommy, who had hurried down to the edge of the water, gave me a second hail. "buck up, old son!" he called out. "there's something doing." a suggestion of haste from tommy argued a crisis of such urgency that i didn't waste any time asking questions. i just threw over the anchor, and tumbling into the dinghy sculled ashore as quickly as i could. "sorry i kept you waiting, tommy," i said, as he jumped into the boat. "been here long?" "about three hours," he returned. "i was beginning to wonder if you were dead." i shook my head. "i'm not fit to die yet," i replied. "what's the matter?" he looked at his watch. "well, the chief matter is the time. do you think i can get to sheppey by half-past nine?" i paused in my rowing. "sheppey!" i repeated. "why damn it, tommy, i've just come back from sheppey." it was tommy's turn to look surprised. "the devil you have!" he exclaimed. "what took you there?" "to be exact," i said, "it was the _betty_"; and then in as few words as possible i proceeded to acquaint him with the morning's doings. i was just finishing as we came alongside. "well, that's fine about the powder," he said, scrambling on board. "where's gow?" "joyce sent him off for a holiday," i answered, "and he hasn't come back yet." then hitching up the dinghy i added curiously: "what's up, tommy? let's have it." "it's latimer," he said. "i told you i was expecting to hear from him. he sent me a message round early this morning, and i've promised him i'll be in the creek under the german's bungalow by half-past nine. i must get there somehow." "oh, we'll get there all right," i returned cheerfully, "what's the game?" "i think he's having a squint round," said tommy. "anyhow i know he's there on his own and depending on me to pick him up." "but what made him ask you?" i demanded. "he knew i had a boat, and i fancy he's working this particular racket without any official help. as far as i can make out, he wants to be quite certain what these fellows are up to before he strikes. you don't get much sympathy in the secret service if you happen to make a mistake." "well, it's no good wasting time talking," i said. "if we want to be there by half-past nine we must push off at once." "but what about you?" exclaimed tommy. "you can't come! he's seen you, you know, at the hut." "what does it matter?" i objected. "if he didn't recognize me as the chap who sent him the note at parelli's, we can easily fake up some explanation. tell him i'm a new member of the athenians, and that you happened to run across me and brought me down to help work the boat. there's no reason one shouldn't be a yachtsman and a photographer too." i spoke lightly, but as a matter of fact i was some way from trusting tommy's judgment implicitly with regard to latimer's straightforwardness about the restaurant incident, and also about his visit to the hut. all the same, i was quite determined to go to sheppey. things had come to a point now when there was nothing to be gained by over-caution. either latimer had recognized me or else he hadn't. in the first event, he knew already that tommy had been trying to deceive him, and that the mythical artist person was none other than myself. if that were so, i felt it was best to take the bull by the horns, and try to find out exactly what part he suspected me of playing. i had at least saved his life, and although we live in an ungrateful world, he seemed bound to be more or less prejudiced in my favour. apart from these considerations, tommy would certainly want some help in working the _betty_. he knew his job well enough, but with a haze on the river and the twilight drawing in rapidly, the mouth of the thames is no place for single-handed sailing--especially when you're in a hurry. tommy evidently recognized this, for he raised no further objections. "very well," he said, with a rather reckless laugh. "we're gambling a bit, but that's the fault of the cards. up with the anchor, neil, and let's get a move on her." i hauled in the chain, and then jumped up to attend to the sails, which i had just let down loosely on deck, in my hurry to put off in the dinghy. after a couple of unsuccessful efforts and two or three very successful oaths, tommy persuaded the engine to start, and we throbbed off slowly down the creek--now quite a respectable estuary of tidal water. i sat back in the well with a laugh. "i never expected a second trip tonight," i said. "i'm beginning to feel rather like the captain of a penny steamer." tommy, who was combining the important duties of steering and lighting a pipe, looked up from his labours. "the lyndon-morrison line!" he observed. "tilbury to sheppey twice daily. passengers are requested not to speak to the man at the wheel." "i think, tommy," i said, "that we must make an exception in the case of mr. latimer." chapter xx approaching a solution a chinese proverb informs us that "there are three hundred and forty-six subjects for elegant conversation," but during the trip down i think that tommy and i confined ourselves almost exclusively to two. one was mr. bruce latimer, and the other was joyce's amazing discovery about mcmurtrie and marks. concerning the latter tommy was just as astonished and baffled as i was. "i'm blessed if i know what to think about it, neil," he admitted. "if it was any one else but joyce, i should say she'd made a mistake. what on earth could mcmurtrie have had to do with that jew beast?" "joyce seems to think he had quite a lot to do with him," i said. tommy nodded. "i know. she's made up her mind he did the job all right; but, hang it all, one doesn't go and murder people without any conceivable reason." "i can conceive plenty of excellent reasons for murdering marks," i said impartially. "i should hardly think they would have appealed to mcmurtrie, though. the chief thing that makes me suspicious about him is the fact of his knowing george and hiding it from me all this time. i suppose that was how he got hold of his information about the powder. george was almost the only person who knew of it." "i always thought the whole business was a devilish odd one," growled tommy; "but the more one finds out about it the queerer it seems to get. these people of yours--mcmurtrie and savaroff--are weird enough customers on their own, but when it comes to their being mixed up with both george _and_ marks ..." he paused. "it will turn out next that latimer's in it too," he added half-mockingly. "i shouldn't wonder," i said. "i can't swallow everything he told you, tommy. it leaves too much unexplained. you see, i'm pretty certain that the chap who tried to do him in is one of mcmurtrie's crowd, and in that case--" "in that case," interrupted tommy, with a short laugh, "we ought to have rather an interesting evening. seems to me, neil, we're what you might call burning our boats this journey." the old compunction i had felt at first against dragging tommy and joyce into my affairs suddenly came back to me with renewed force. "i'm a selfish brute, thomas," i said ruefully. "i think the best thing i could do really would be to drop overboard. the lord knows what trouble i shall land you in before i've finished." "you'll land me into the trouble of telling you not to talk rot in a minute," he returned. then, standing up and peering out ahead over the long dim expanse of water, dotted here and there with patches of blurred light, he added cheerfully: "you take her over now, neil, we're right at the end of the yantlet, and after this morning you ought to know the rest of the way better than i do." he resigned the tiller to me, and pulling out his watch, held it up to the binnacle lamp. "close on a quarter to nine," he said. "we shall just do it nicely if the engine doesn't stop." "i hope so," i said. "i should hate to keep a government official waiting." we crossed the broad entrance into queenborough harbour, where the dim bulk of a couple of battleships loomed up vaguely through the haze. it was a strange, exhilarating sensation, throbbing along in the semi-darkness, with all sorts of unknown possibilities waiting for us ahead. more than ever i felt what joyce had described in the morning--a sort of curious inward conviction that we were at last on the point of finding out the truth. "we'd better slacken down a bit when we get near," said tommy. "latimer specially told me to bring her in as quietly as i could." i nodded. "right you are," i said. "i wasn't going to hurry, anyhow. it's a tricky place, and i don't want to smash up any more islands. one a day is quite enough." i slowed down the engine to about four knots an hour, and at this dignified pace we proceeded along the coast, keeping a watchful eye for the entrance to the creek. at last a vague outline of rising ground showed us that we were in the right neighbourhood, and bringing the _betty_ round, i headed her in very delicately towards the shore. it was distressingly dark, from a helmsman's point of view, but tommy, who had gone up into the bows, handed me back instructions, and by dint of infinite care we succeeded in making the opening with surprising accuracy. the creek was quite small, with a steep bank one side perhaps fifteen feet high, and what looked like a stretch of mud or saltings on the other. its natural beauties, however, if it had any, were rather obscured by the darkness. "what shall we do now, tommy?" i asked in a subdued voice. "turn her round?" he came back to the well. "yes," he said, "turn her round, and then i'll cut out the engine and throttle her down. she'll make a certain amount of row, but we can't help that. i daren't stop her; or she might never start again." we carried out our manoeuvre successfully, and then dropped over the anchor to keep us in position. i seated myself on the roof of the cabin, and pulling out a pipe, commenced to fill it. "i wonder how long the interval is," i said. "i suppose spying is a sort of job you can't fix an exact time-limit to." tommy looked at his watch again. "it's just on a quarter to ten now. he told me not to wait after half-past." i stuffed down the baccy with my thumb, and felt in my pocket for a match. "it seems to me--" i began. the interesting remark i was about to make was never uttered. from the high ground away to the left came the sudden crack of a revolver shot that rang out with startling viciousness on the night air. it was followed almost instantly by a second. tommy and i leaped up together, inspired simultaneously by the same idea. being half way there, however, i easily reached the painter first. "all right," i cried, "i'll pick him up. you haul in and have her ready to start." i don't know exactly what the record is for getting off in a dinghy in the dark, but i think i hold it with something to spare. i was away from the ship and sculling furiously for the shore in about the same time that it has taken to write this particular sentence. i pulled straight for the direction in which i had heard the shots. it was the steepest part of the cliff, but under the circumstances it seemed the most likely spot at which my services would be required. people are apt to take a short cut when revolver bullets are chasing about the neighbourhood. i stopped rowing a few yards from the shore, and swinging the boat round, stared up through the gloom. there was just light enough to make out the top of the cliff, which appeared to be covered by a thick growth of gorse several feet in height. i backed away a stroke or two, and as i did so, there came a sudden snapping, rustling sound from up above, and the next instant the figure of a man broke through the bushes. he peered down eagerly at the water. "that you, morrison?" he called out in a low, distinct voice, which i recognized at once. "yes," i answered briefly. it struck me as being no time for elaborate explanations. mr. latimer was evidently of the same opinion. without any further remark, he stepped forward to the edge of the cliff, and jumping well out into the air, came down with a beautiful splash about a dozen yards from the boat. he rose to the surface at once, and i was alongside of him a moment later. "it's all right," i said, as he clutched hold of the stern. "morrison's in the _betty_; i'm lending him a hand." i caught his arm to help him in, and as i did so he gave a little sharp exclamation of pain. "hullo!" i said, shifting my grip. "what's the matter?" with an effort he hoisted himself up into the boat. "nothing much, thanks," he answered in that curious composed voice of his. "i think one of our friends made a luckier shot than he deserved to. it's only my left arm, though." i seized the sculls, and began to pull off quickly for the _betty_. "we'll look at it in a second," i said. "are they after you?" he laughed. "yes, some little way after. i took the precaution of starting in the other direction and then doubling back. it worked excellently." he spoke in the same rather amused drawl as he had done at the hut, and there was no hint of hurry or excitement in his manner. i could just see, however, that he was dressed in rough, common-looking clothes, and that he was no longer wearing an eye-glass. if he had had a cap, he had evidently parted with it during his dive into the sea. a few strokes brought us to the _betty_, where tommy was leaning over the side ready to receive us. "all right?" he inquired coolly, as we scrambled on board. "nothing serious," replied latimer. "thanks to you and--and this gentleman." "they've winged him, tommy," i said. "can you take her out while i have a squint at the damage?" tommy's answer was to thrust in the clutch of the engine, and with an abrupt jerk we started off down the creek. as we did so there came a sudden hail from the shore. "boat ahoy! what boat's that?" it was a deep, rather dictatorial sort of voice, with the faintest possible touch of a foreign accent about it. latimer replied at once in a cheerful, good-natured bawl, amazingly different from his ordinary tone: "private launch, _vanity_, southend; and who the hell are you?" whether the vigour of the reply upset our questioner or not, i can't say. anyhow he returned no answer, and leaving him to think what he pleased, we continued our way out into the main stream. "come into the cabin and let's have a look at you," i said to latimer. "you must get those wet things off, anyhow." he followed me inside, where i took down the small hanging lamp and placed it on the table. then very carefully i helped him strip off his coat, bringing to light a grey flannel shirt, the left sleeve of which was soaked in blood. i took out my knife, and ripped it up from the cuff to the shoulder. the wound was about a couple of inches above the elbow, a small clean puncture right through from side to side. it was bleeding a bit, but one could see at a glance that the bullet had just missed the bone. "you're lucky," i said. "another quarter of an inch, and that arm would have been precious little use to you for the next two months. does it hurt much?" he shook his head. "not the least," he replied carelessly. "i hardly knew i was hit until you grabbed hold of me." i tied my handkerchief round as tightly as possible just above the place, and then going to the locker hauled out our spare fancy costume which had previously done duty for mr. gow. "you get these on first," i said, "and then i'll fix you up properly." i thrust my head out through the cabin door to see how things were going, and found that we were already clear of the creek and heading back towards queenborough. tommy, who was sitting at the tiller puffing away peacefully at a pipe, removed the latter article from his mouth. "where are we going to, my pretty maid?" he inquired. "i don't know," i said; "i'll ask the passenger as soon as i've finished doctoring him." i returned to the cabin, where mr. latimer, who had stripped off his wet garments, was attempting to dry himself with a dishcloth. i managed to find him a towel, and then, as soon as he had struggled into a pair of flannel trousers and a vest, i set about the job of tying up his arm. an old shirt of tommy's served me as a bandage, and although i don't profess to be an expert, i knew enough about first aid to make a fairly serviceable job of it. anyhow mr. latimer expressed himself as being completely satisfied. "you'd better have a drink now," i said. "that's part of the treatment." i mixed him a stiff peg, which he consumed without protest; and then, after he had inserted himself carefully into a jersey and coat, we both went outside. "hullo!" exclaimed tommy genially. "how do you feel now?" our visitor sat down on one of the side seats in the cockpit, and contemplated us both with his pleasant smile. "i feel extremely obliged to you, morrison," he said. "you have a way of keeping your engagements that i find most satisfactory." tommy laughed. "i had a bit of luck," he returned. "if i hadn't picked up our pal here i doubt if i should have got down in time after all. by the way, there's no need to introduce you. you've met each other before at the hut, haven't you?" latimer, who was just lighting a cigar which i had offered him, paused for a moment in the operation. "yes," he said quietly. "we have met each other before. but i should rather like to be introduced, all the same." something in his manner struck me as being a trifle odd, but if tommy noticed it he certainly didn't betray the fact. "well, you shall be," he answered cheerfully. "this is mr. james nicholson." latimer finished lighting his cigar, blew out the match, and dropped it carefully over the side. "indeed," he said. "it only shows how extremely inaccurate one's reasoning powers can be." there was a short but rather pregnant pause. then tommy leaned forward. "what do you mean?" he asked, in that peculiarly gentle voice which he keeps for the most unhealthy occasions. latimer's face remained beautifully impassive. "i was under the mistaken impression," he answered slowly, "that i owed my life to mr. neil lyndon." for perhaps three seconds none of us spoke; then i broke the silence with a short laugh. "we are up against it, thomas," i observed. tommy looked backwards and forwards from one to the other of us. "what shall we do?" he said quietly. "throw him in the river?" "it would be rather extravagant," i objected, "after we've just pulled him out." latimer smiled. "i am not sure i don't deserve it. i have lied to you, morrison, all through in the most disgraceful manner." then he paused. "still it _would_ be extravagant," he added. "i think i can convince you of that before we get to queenborough." tommy throttled down the engine to about its lowest running point. "look here, latimer," he said. "we're not going to queenborough, or anywhere else, until we've got the truth out of you. you understand that, of course. you've put yourself in our power deliberately, and you must have some reason. one doesn't cut one's throat for fun." he spoke in his usual pleasant fashion, but there was a grim seriousness behind it which no one could pretend to misunderstand. latimer, at all events, made no attempt to. he merely nodded his head approvingly. "you're quite right," he said. "i had made up my mind you should hear some of the truth tonight in any case; that was the chief reason why i asked you to come and pick me up. when i saw you had brought mr. lyndon with you, i determined to tell you everything. it's the simplest and best way, after all." he stopped for a moment, and we all three sat there in silence, while the _betty_ slowly throbbed her way forward, splashing off the black water from either bow. then latimer began to speak again quite quietly. "i _am_ in the secret service," he said; "but you can forget the rest of what i told you the other night, morrison. i am after bigger game than a couple of german spies--though they come into it right enough. i am on the track of three friends of mr. lyndon's, who just now are as badly wanted in whitehall as they probably are in hell." i leaned back with a certain curious thrill of satisfaction. "i thought so," i said softly. he glanced at me with his keen blue eyes, and the light of the lamp shining on his face showed up its square dogged lines of strength and purpose. it was a fine face--the face of a man without weakness and without fear. "it's nearly twelve months ago now," he continued, "that we first began to realize at headquarters that there was something queer going on. there's always a certain amount of spying in every country--the sort of quiet, semi-official kind that doesn't do any one a ha'porth of practical harm. now and then, of course, somebody gets dropped on, and there's a fuss in the papers, but nobody really bothers much about it. this was different, however. two or three times things happened that did matter very much indeed. they were the sort of things that showed us pretty plainly we were up against something entirely new--some kind of organized affair that had nothing on earth to do with the usual casual spying. "well, i made up my mind to get to the bottom of it. casement, who is nominally the head of our department, gave me an absolutely free hand, and i set to work in my own way quite independently of the police. it was six months before i got hold of a clue. then some designs--some valuable battleship designs--disappeared from devonport dockyard. it was a queer case, but there were one or two things about it which made me pretty sure it was the work of the same gang, and that for the time, at all events, they were somewhere in the neighbourhood. "i needn't bother you now with all the details of how i actually ran them to earth. it wasn't an easy job. they weren't the sort of people who left any spare bits of evidence lying around, and by the time i found out where they were living it was just too late." he turned to me. "otherwise, mr. lyndon, i think we might possibly have had the pleasure of meeting earlier." a sudden forgotten recollection of my first interview with mcmurtrie flashed vividly into my mind. "by jove!" i exclaimed. "what a fool i am! i knew i'd heard your name somewhere before." latimer nodded. "yes," he said. "i daresay i had begun to arouse a certain amount of interest in the household by the time you arrived." he paused. "by the way, i am still quite in the dark as to how you actually got in with them. had they managed to send you a message into the prison?" "no," i said. "i'm equally in the dark as to how you've found out who i am, but you seem to know so much already, you may as well have the truth. it was chance; just pure chance and a bicycle. i hadn't the remotest notion who lived in the house. i was trying to steal some food." latimer nodded again. "it was a chance that a man like mcmurtrie wasn't likely to waste. i don't know yet how you're paying him for his help, but i should imagine it's a fairly stiff price. however, we'll come back to that afterwards. "i was just too late, as i told you, to interrupt your pleasant little house-party. i managed to find out, however, that some of you had gone to london, and i followed at once. it was then, i think, that the doctor decided it was time to take the gloves off. "so far, although i'd been on their heels for weeks, i hadn't set eyes on any of the gang personally. all the same, i had a pretty good idea of what mcmurtrie and savaroff were like to look at, and i fancy they probably guessed as much. anyhow, as you know, it was the third member of the brotherhood--a gentleman who, i believe, calls himself hoffman--who was entrusted with the job of putting me out of the way." a faint mocking smile flickered for a moment round his lips. "that was where the doctor made his first slip. it never pays to underestimate your enemy. hoffman certainly had a good story, and he told it well, but after thirteen years in the secret service i shouldn't trust the archbishop of canterbury till i'd proved his credentials. i agreed to dine at parelli's, but i took the precaution of having two of my own men there as well--one in the restaurant and one outside in the street. i had given them instructions that, whatever happened, they were to keep hoffman shadowed till further orders. "well, you know how things turned out almost as well as i do. i was vastly obliged to you for sending me that note, but as a matter of fact i hadn't the least intention of drinking the wine. indeed, i turned away purposely to give hoffman the chance to doctor it. what did beat me altogether was who you were. i naturally couldn't place you at all. i saw that you recognized one of us when you came in, and that you were watching our table pretty attentively in the glass. i had a horrible suspicion for a moment that you were a scotland yard man, and were going to bungle the whole business by arresting hoffman. that was why i sent you my card; i knew if you were at the yard you'd recognize my name." "i severed my connection with the police some time ago," i said drily. "what happened after dinner? i've been longing to know ever since." "i got rid of hoffman at the door, and from the time he left the restaurant my men never lost him again. they shadowed him to his lodgings--he was living in a side street near victoria--and for the next two days i got a detailed report of everything he did. it was quite interesting reading. amongst other things it included paying a morning visit to the hut you're living in at present, mr. lyndon, and going on from there to spend the afternoon calling on some friends at sheppey." i laughed gently, and turned to tommy. "amazingly simple," i said, "when you know how it's done." tommy nodded. "i've got all that part, but i'm still utterly at sea about how he dropped on to you." "that was simpler still," answered latimer. "one of my men told me that the hut was empty for the time, so i came down to have a look at it." he turned to me. "of course i recognized you at once as the obliging stranger of the restaurant. that didn't put me much farther on the road, but when morrison rolled up with his delightfully ingenious yarn, he gave me just the clue i was looking for. i knew his story was all a lie because i'd seen you since. well, a man like morrison doesn't butt into this sort of business without a particularly good reason, and it didn't take me very long to guess what his reason was. you see i remembered him chiefly in connection with your trial. i knew he was your greatest friend; i knew you had escaped from dartmoor and disappeared somewhere in the neighbourhood of mcmurtrie's place, and putting two and two together there was only one conclusion i could possibly come to." "my appearance must have taken a little getting over," i suggested. latimer shrugged his shoulders. "apart from your features you exactly fitted the bill, and i had learned enough about mcmurtrie's past performances not to let that worry me. what i couldn't make out was why he should have run the risk of helping you. of course you might have offered him a large sum of money--if you had it put away somewhere--but in that case there seemed no reason why you should be hanging about in a hut on the thames marshes." "why didn't you tell the police?" asked tommy. "the police!" latimer's voice was full of pleasant irony. "my dear morrison, we don't drag the police into this sort of business; our great object is to keep them out of it. mr. lyndon's affairs had nothing to do with me officially apart from his being mixed up with mcmurtrie. besides, my private sympathies were entirely with him. not only had he tried to save my life at parelli's, but ever since the trial i have always been under the impression he was fully entitled to slaughter mr.--mr.--whatever the scoundrel's name was." i acknowledged the remark with a slight bow. "thank you," i said. "as a matter of sober fact i didn't kill him, but i shouldn't be the least sorry for it if i had." latimer looked at me for a moment straight in the eyes. "we've treated you beautifully as a nation," he said slowly. "it's an impertinence on my part to expect you to help us." i laughed. "go on," i said. "let's get it straightened out anyhow." "well, the straightening out must be largely done by you. as far as i'm concerned the rest of the story can be told very quickly. for various reasons i got to the conclusion that in some way or other the two gentlemen on sheppey had a good deal to do with the matter. my men had been making a few inquiries about them, and from what we'd learned i was strongly inclined to think they were a couple of german naval officers over here on leave. if that was so, the fact that they were in communication with hoffman made it pretty plain where mcmurtrie was finding his market. my men had told me they were generally away on the mainland in the evening, and i made up my mind i'd have a look at the place the first chance i got. i asked morrison to come down and pick me up in his boat for two reasons--partly because i wanted to keep in touch with you both, and partly because i thought it might come in handy to have a second line of retreat." "it _was_ rather convenient, as things turned out," interposed tommy. "very," admitted latimer drily. "they got back to the garden just as i had opened one of the windows, and shot at me from behind the hedge. if it hadn't been for the light they must have picked me off." he stopped, and standing up in the well, looked round. by this time we were again just off the entrance to queenborough, and the thick haze that had obscured everything earlier in the evening was rapidly thinning away. a watery moon showed up the various warships at anchor--dim grey formless shapes, marked by blurred lights. "what do you say?" he asked, turning to tommy. "shall we run in here and pick up some moorings? before we go any further i want to hear lyndon's part of the story, and then we all three shall know exactly where we are. after that you can throw me in the sea, or--or--well, i think there are several possible alternatives." "we'll find out anyhow," said tommy. he turned the _betty_ towards the shore, and we worked our way carefully into the harbour. we ran on past the anchored vessels, until we were right opposite the queenborough jetty, where we discovered some unoccupied moorings which we promptly adopted. it was a snug berth, and a fairly isolated one--a rakish-looking little gunboat being our nearest neighbour. in this pleasant atmosphere of law and order i proceeded to narrate as briefly and quickly as possible the main facts about my escape and its results. i felt that we had gone too far now to keep anything back. latimer had boldly placed his own cards face upwards on the table, and short of sending him to the fishes, there seemed to be nothing else to do except to follow his example. as he himself had said, we should then at least know exactly how we stood with regard to each other. he listened to me for the most part in silence, but the few interruptions that he did make showed the almost fierce attention with which he was following my story. i don't think his eyes ever left my face from the first word to the last. when i had finished he sat on for perhaps a minute without speaking. then very deliberately he leaned across and held out his hand. we exchanged grips, and for once in my life i found a man whose fingers seemed as strong as my own. "i don't know whether that makes you an accessory after the fact," i said. "i believe it's about eighteen months for being civil to an escaped convict." he let go my hand, and getting up from his seat leaned back against the door of the cabin facing us both. "you may be an escaped convict, mr. lyndon," he said slowly, "but if you choose i believe you can do more for england than any man alive." there was a short pause. "it seems to me," interrupted tommy, "that england is a little bit in neil's debt already." "that doesn't matter," i observed generously. "let's hear what mr. latimer has got to say." i turned to him. "who are mcmurtrie and savaroff?" i asked, "and what the devil's the meaning of it all?" "the meaning is plain enough to a certain point," he answered. "i haven't the least doubt that they intend to sell the secret of your powder to germany, just as they've sold their other information. if i knew for certain it was only that, i should act, and act at once." he stopped. "well?" i said. "i believe there's something more behind it--something we've got to find out before we strike. for the last two months germany has taken a tone towards us diplomatically that can only have one explanation. they mean to get their way or fight, and if it comes to a fight they're under the impression they're going to beat us." "and you really believe mcmurtrie and savaroff are responsible for their optimism?" i asked a little incredulously. latimer nodded. "dr. mcmurtrie," he said in his quiet drawl, "is the most dangerous man in europe. he is partly english and partly russian by birth. at one time he used to be court physician at st. petersburg. savaroff is a german pole--his real name is vassiloff. between them they were largely responsible for the early disasters in the japanese war." for a moment no one spoke. then tommy leaned forward. "i say, latimer," he exclaimed, "is this serious history?" "the russian government," replied latimer, "are most certainly under that impression." "but if they know about it," i objected, "how is it that mcmurtrie and savaroff aren't in siberia? i've never heard that the russians are particularly tender-hearted where traitors are concerned." latimer indulged in that peculiarly dry smile of his. "if the government had got hold of them i think their destination would have been a much warmer one than siberia. as it was they disappeared just in time. there was a gang of them--four or five at the least--and all men of position and influence. they must have made an enormous amount of money out of the japs. in the end one of them rounded on the others--at least that's what appears to have happened. anyhow mcmurtrie and savaroff skipped, and skipped in such a hurry that they seem to have left most of their savings behind them. i suppose that's what made them start business again in england." "you're absolutely sure they're the same pair?" asked tommy. "absolutely. i've got their full description from the russian police. it tallies in every way--even to savaroff's daughter. there _is_ a girl with them, i believe?" "yes," i said. "there's a girl." then i paused for a moment. "look here, latimer," i went on. "what is it you want me to do? i'll help you in any way i can. when i made my bargain with mcmurtrie i hadn't a notion what his real game was. i don't in the least want to buy my freedom by selling england to germany. the only thing i flatly and utterly refuse to do is to serve out the rest of my sentence. if it's bound to come out who i am, you must give me your word i shall have a reasonable warning. i don't much mind dying--especially if i can arrange for ten minutes with george first--but quite candidly i'd see england wiped off the map before i'd go back to dartmoor." latimer made a slight gesture with his hands. "you've saved my life, once at all events," he said. "it may seem a trifle to you, but it's a matter of quite considerable importance to me. i don't think you need worry about going back to dartmoor--not as long as the secret service is in existence." "well, what is it you want me to do?" i asked again. he was silent for a moment or two, as though arranging his ideas. then he began to speak very slowly and deliberately. "i want you to go on as if nothing had happened. write to mcmurtrie the first thing tomorrow morning and tell him that you've made the powder. he is sure to come down to the hut at once. you can show him that it's genuine, but on no account let him have any of it to take away. tell him that you will only hand over the secret on receipt of a written agreement, and make him see that you're absolutely serious. meanwhile let me know everything that happens as soon as you possibly can. telegraph to me at jermyn street. you can send in the messages to tilbury by the man who's looking after your boat. use some quick simple cypher--suppose we say the alphabet backwards, z for a and so on. have you got plenty of money?" i nodded. "i should like to have some sort of notion what you're going to do," i said. "it would be much more inspiriting than working in the dark." "it depends entirely on the next two days. i shall go back to london tonight and find out if either of my men has got hold of any fresh information. then i shall put the whole thing in front of casement. if he agrees with me i shall wait till the last possible moment before striking. we've enough evidence about the devonport case to arrest mcmurtrie and savaroff straight away, but i feel it would be madness while there's a chance of getting to the bottom of this business. perhaps you understand now why i've risked everything tonight. we're playing for high stakes, mr. lyndon, and you--" he paused--"well, i'm inclined to think that you've the ace of trumps." i stood up and faced him. "i hope so," i said. "i'm rather tired of being taken for the knave." "isn't there a job for me?" asked tommy pathetically. "i'm open for anything, especially if it wants a bit of physical violence." "there will probably be a demand for that a little later on," said latimer in his quiet drawl. "at present i want you to come back with me to london. i shall find plenty for you to do there, morrison. the fewer people that are mixed up in this affair the better." he turned to me. "you can take the boat back to tilbury alone if we go ashore here?" i nodded, and he once more held out his hand. "we shall meet again soon," he said--"very soon i think. have you ever read longfellow?" it was such a surprising question that i couldn't help smiling. "not recently," i said. "i haven't been in the mood for poetry the last two or three years." he held my hand and his blue eyes looked steadily into mine. "ah," he said. "i don't want to be too optimistic, but there's a verse in longfellow which i think you might like." he paused again. "it has something to do with the mills of god," he added slowly. chapter xxi sonia's sudden visit one's feelings are queer things. personally i never have the least notion how a particular situation will affect me until i happen to find myself in it. i should have thought, for instance, that latimer's revelations would have left me in a state of vast excitement, but as a matter of fact i don't think i ever felt cooler in my life. i believe every other emotion was swallowed up in the relief of finding out something definite at last. i know anyhow that that was my chief sensation as i rowed the dinghy towards the wet slimy causeway, lit by its solitary lamp. there was a boat train to town in the early hours of the morning which latimer had suggested that he and tommy should catch, and it certainly seemed a safer plan than coming back to tilbury with me. when i had parted from them, under the sleepy eye of a depressed-looking night watchman, i returned to the _betty_ and proceeded to let go my moorings. i then ran up the sails, and gliding gently past the warships and a big incoming steamer, floated out into the broad peaceful darkness of the thames estuary. i was in no hurry, and now that the mist had cleared away it was a perfect night for drifting comfortably up river with the tide. the dawn was just beginning to break by the time i reached my old anchorage in the creek. in spite of my long and slightly strenuous day, i didn't feel particularly tired, so after stowing away the sails and tidying up things generally, i sat down in the cabin and began to compose my letter to mcmurtrie. i started off by telling him that i had completed my invention some days earlier than i expected to, and then gave him a brief but dramatic description of the success which had attended my first experiment. i am afraid i was a trifle inaccurate with regard to details, but the precise truth is a luxury that very few of us can afford to indulge in. i certainly couldn't. when i had finished i addressed the envelope to the hotel russell, and then, turning into one of the bunks, soon dropped off into a well-deserved sleep. i don't know whether it was nature that aroused me, or whether it was mr. gow. anyway i woke up with the distinct impression that somebody was hailing the boat, and thrusting my head up through the hatch i discovered my faithful retainer standing on the bank. he greeted me with a slightly apologetic air when i put off to fetch him. "good-mornin', sir. i hope i done right stoppin' ashore, sir. the young lady told me i wouldn't be wanted not till this mornin'." "the young lady was quite correct," i said. "you weren't." then as we pushed off for the _betty_ i added: "but i'm glad you've come back in good time today. i want you to go in and post a letter for me at tilbury as soon as we've had some breakfast. you might get a newspaper for me at the same time." "talkin' o' noos, sir," observed mr. gow with sudden interest, "'ave you heard tell about the back o' canvey island bein' blown up yesterday mornin'?" "blown up!" i repeated as we ran alongside. "who on earth did that?" mr. gow shook his head as he clambered on board after me. "no one don't seem to know," he remarked. "'twere done arly in the mornin', they reckon. there's some as says 'tis the suffrinjettes, but to my way o' thinkin' sir; it's more like to have somethin' to do with them blarsted dutchmen as sunk my boat." "by jove!" i exclaimed, "i wonder if it had. they seem to be mischievous devils." mr. gow nodded emphatically. "they are, sir, and that's a fact. 'tis time somebody took a quiet look round that house o' theirs, some day when they ain't there." how very nearly this desirable object had been achieved on the previous evening i thought it unnecessary to mention, but i was hugely relieved to learn that so far there was no suspicion as to who was really responsible for the damage to the creek. apart from the inconvenience which it would have entailed, to be arrested for blowing up a bit of mud in a thames backwater would have been a sad come-down for a convicted murderer! as soon as he had provided me with some breakfast, mr. gow departed for tilbury with my letter to mcmurtrie in his pocket. he was away for a couple of hours, returning with a copy of the _daily mail_ and the information that there were no letters for me at the post-office. i handed him over the _betty_, with instructions not to desert her until he was relieved by either tommy or joyce or me, and then set off for the hut by my usual route. it was less than thirty hours since i had left it, but so many interesting things had happened in the interval it seemed more like three weeks. for any one entangled in such a variety of perils as i appeared to be, i spent a surprisingly peaceful day. not a soul came near the place, and except for reading the _mail_ and indulging in a certain amount of hard thinking, i enjoyed the luxury of doing absolutely nothing. after the exertion and excitements of the previous twenty-four hours, this lull was exactly what i needed. it gave me time to take stock of my position in the light of latimer's amazing revelations--a process which on the whole i found fairly satisfactory. if the likelihood of proving my innocence still seemed a trifle remote, i had at least penetrated some of the mystery which surrounded dr. mcmurtrie and his friends, and more and more it was becoming obvious to me that the two problems were closely connected. anyhow i turned into bed in an optimistic mood, and with the stimulating feeling that in all probability i had a pleasantly eventful day in front of me. it certainly opened in the most promising fashion. i woke up at eight, and was making a light breakfast off a tin of sardines and some incredibly stale bread, when through the little window that looked out towards the tilbury road i suddenly spotted my youthful friend from the post-office approaching across the marsh. i opened the door, and he came up with a respectful grin of recognition. "letter for you, sir," he observed, "come this morning, sir." he handed me an envelope addressed in joyce's writing, and stood by while i read it, thoughtfully scratching his head with the peak of his cap. it was only a short note, but beautifully characteristic of joyce. "my own neil,-- "i'm coming down to see you tomorrow afternoon. i've got several things to tell you, but the chief reason is because i want to kiss you and be kissed by you. everything else seems rather unimportant compared with that. "joyce." "any answer, sir?" inquired the boy, when he saw i had finished reading. "yes, charles," i said; "there is an answer, but i'm afraid i can't send it by post. wait a minute, though," i added, as he began to put on his cap, "i want you to send off a wire for me if you will. it will take a minute or two to write." i went into the hut, and hastily scribbled a telegram to latimer, telling him that i had written to mcmurtrie, but that otherwise there was nothing to report. i copied this out carefully in the simple cypher we had agreed on, and handed it to the boy, together with five shillings. "you can keep the change," i said, "and buy fireworks with it. i've been too busy to make any yet." he gurgled out some expressions of gratitude and took his departure, while i renewed my attack upon the sardines and bread. fortified by this simple cheer, i devoted the remainder of the morning to tidying up my shed. i felt that i was living in such uncertain times that it would be just as well to remove all possible traces of the work i had been engaged on, and by midday the place looked almost as tidy as when i had first entered it. i then treated myself to a cigar and began to keep a look-out for joyce. she had not said in her letter what time she would arrive, but i knew that there were a couple of trains early in the afternoon, and i remembered that i had told her to come straight to the hut. it must have been getting on for two when i suddenly caught sight of a motor car with a solitary occupant coming quickly along the tilbury road. it pulled up as it reached the straggling plantation opposite the hut, and a minute later a girl appeared from between the trees, and started to walk towards me across the marsh. i was a little surprised, for i didn't know that joyce included motor driving amongst her other accomplishments, and she had certainly never mentioned to me that there was any chance of her coming down in a car. then, a moment later, the truth suddenly hit me with paralysing abruptness. it was not joyce at all; it was sonia. i don't know why the discovery should have given me such a shock, for in a way i had been expecting her to turn up any time. still a shock it undoubtedly did give me, and for a second or so i stood there staring stupidly at her like a man who has suddenly lost the use of his limbs. then, pulling myself together, i turned away from the window and strode to the door. she came up to me swiftly and eagerly, moving with that strange lissom grace that always reminded me of some untamed animal. her hurried walk across the marsh had brought a faint tinge of colour into the usual ivory clearness of her skin, and her dark eyes were alive with excitement. i held out my hands to welcome her. "i was beginning to think you'd forgotten the address, sonia," i said. with that curious little deep laugh of hers she pulled my arms round her, and for several seconds we remained standing in this friendly if a trifle informal attitude. then, perceiving no reasonable alternative, i bent down and kissed her. "ah!" she whispered. "at last! at last!" deserted as the marsh was, it seemed rather public for this type of dialogue, so drawing her inside the hut i closed the door. she looked round at everything with rapid, eager interest. "i have heard all about the powder," she said. "it's quite true, isn't it? you have done what you hoped to do?" i nodded. "i've blown up about twenty yards of canvey island with a few ounces of it," i said. "that seems good enough for a start." she laughed again with a sort of fierce satisfaction. "you have done something more than that. you have given me just the power i needed to help you." she came up and with a quick impulsive gesture laid her two hands on my arm. "neil, neil, my lover! in a few hours from now you can have everything you want in the world. everything, neil--money, freedom, love--" she broke off, panting slightly with her own vehemence, and then drawing my face down to hers, kissed me again on the lips. i suppose i ought to have felt rather ashamed of myself, but i think i was too interested in what she was going to say to worry much about anything else. "tell me, sonia," i said. "what am i to do? can i trust your father and mcmurtrie?" she let go my arm, and stepping back sat down on the edge of the small table which i had been using as a writing-desk. "trust them!" she repeated half scornfully. "yes, you can trust them if you want to go on being cheated and robbed. can't you see--can't you guess the way they have been lying to you?" "of course i can," i said coolly; "but when one's between the devil and dartmoor, i prefer the devil every time. i don't enjoy being cheated, but it's much more pleasant than being starved or flogged." she leaned forward, holding the edge of the table with her hands. "there's no need for either. as i've told you, in a few hours from now we can be away from england with money enough to last us for our lives. do you know what your invention is worth? do you know what use they mean to make of it?" "i imagine they hope to sell it," i answered. "it wouldn't be difficult to find a customer." "difficult!" she lowered her voice to a quick eager whisper. "they have got a customer. the best customer in europe. a customer that will pay anything in the world for such a secret as yours." i gazed at her with a carefully assumed expression of amazement and dawning intelligence. "good lord, sonia!" i said slowly; "do you mean--?" she made an impatient movement with her hands. "listen! i am going to tell you everything. what's the good of you and i beating about the bush?" she paused. "we are spies," she said quite simply, "professional spies. of course it sounds absurd and impossible to you--an englishman--but all the same it's the truth. you don't know what sort of man dr. mcmurtrie is." "i appear to be learning," i observed. "he has been a friend of my father's for years. they were in russia together at one time--and then paris, vienna--oh, everywhere. it has always been the same; in each country they have found out things that other governments have been willing to pay for. at least, the doctor has. the rest of us, my father, myself, hoffman"--she shrugged her shoulders--"we are his puppets, his tools. everything we have done has been planned and arranged by him." there was a short silence. "how long have you been here?" i asked. "what brought you to england?" "we have been here just over three years," she answered slowly. "there was a man in london that dr. mcmurtrie and my father wanted to find. eight years ago he betrayed them in st. petersburg." a sudden idea--so wild as to be almost incredible--flashed into my mind. i moistened my lips. "who was he?" i asked steadily. she shook her head. "i don't know his name. i only know that he is dead. i think dr. mcmurtrie would kill any one who betrayed him--if he could." i crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. i felt strangely excited. "and after that," i said quietly, "i suppose the doctor thought he might as well stop here and do a little business?" "i think it was suggested to him from berlin. he had sent them all sorts of information when we were in paris, and, of course, as things are now, they were still more anxious to get hold of anything about the english army or navy." she paused. "what they specially wanted were the plans of the lyndon-marwood torpedo." "yes," i said. "i dare say they did. a lot of people have wanted them, but unfortunately they're not for sale." sonia laughed softly. "the exact price we paid for them," she said, "was twelve thousand pounds." i sat up with a jerk. this time my surprise was utterly genuine. "you bought them!" i said incredulously. "bought them from some one in the admiralty?" again sonia shook her head. "don't you remember what you read in the _daily mail_ about the robbery at your offices in victoria street?" i stared at her for a second, and then suddenly the real truth dawned on me. "so george sold them to you?" i said. she nodded. "ever since you went to prison the business has been going to pieces. he wanted money badly--very badly indeed. dr. mcmurtrie found this out. he found out too that there was a copy of the plans in the office, and--well, you can guess the rest. the burglary, of course, was arranged between them. it was meant to cover your cousin in case the government found out that the germans had got hold of the plans." "and have they found out?" i asked. again sonia shrugged her shoulders. "i can't say. the doctor and my father never tell me anything that they can keep to themselves. most of what i know i have picked up from listening to them and putting things together in my own head afterwards. i am useful to them, and to a certain point they trust me; but only so far. they know i hate them both." she made the statement with a detached bitterness that spoke volumes for its sincerity. i felt too that she was telling me the truth about george. a man who could lie as he did at the trial was quite capable of betraying his country or anything else. still, the infernal impudence and treachery of his selling my beautiful torpedo to the germans filled me with a furious anger such as i had not felt since i crouched, dripping and hunted, in the walkham woods. i looked up at sonia, who was leaning forward and watching me with those curious half-sullen, half-passionate eyes of hers. "why did george tell those lies about me at the trial?" i asked. "i don't know for certain; i think he wanted to get rid of you, so that he could steal your invention. of course he saw how valuable it was. you had told him about the notes, and i think he felt that if you were safely out of the way he would be able to make use of them himself." "he must have been painfully disappointed," i said. "they were all jotted down in a private cypher. no one else could possibly have understood them." she nodded. "i know. he offered to sell them to us. he suggested that the germans might be willing to pay a good sum down for them on the chance of being able to make them out." angry as i was, i couldn't help laughing. it was so exactly like george to try and make the best of a bad speculation. "i can hardly see the doctor doing business on those lines," i said. "it was too late in any case," she answered calmly. "just after he made the offer you escaped from prison." there was another pause. "and what were you all doing down in that god-forsaken part of the world?" i demanded. the question was a little superfluous as far as i was concerned, but i felt that sonia would be expecting it. "oh, we weren't there for pleasure," she said curtly. "we wanted to be near devonport, and at the same time we wanted a place that was quite quiet and out-of-the-way. hoffman found the house for us, and we took it furnished for six months." "it was an extraordinary stroke of luck," i said, "that i should have come blundering in as i did." sonia laughed venomously. "it was the sort of thing that would happen to the doctor. the devil looks after his friends." "as a matter of fact," i objected, "i was thinking more of myself." sonia took no notice of my interruption. "why, it meant everything to him," she went on eagerly. "it practically gave him the power to dictate his own terms to the germans. you see, he knew something about their plans. he knew--at least he could guess--that the moment war was declared they meant to make a surprise attack on all the big dockyards--just like the japs did at port arthur. well, think of the difference an explosive as powerful as yours would make! why, it would put england absolutely at their mercy. they could blow up portsmouth, sheerness, and devonport before any one really knew that the war had started." she spoke rapidly, almost feverishly, leaning forward and gripping the edge of the table, till the skin showed white on her knuckles. i think i was equally excited, but i tried not to show it. "yes," i said; "it sounds a promising notion." "promising!" she echoed. "well, it was promising enough for the germans to offer us anything we wanted the moment we could give them the secret. now perhaps you can understand why we were so hospitable and obliging to you." "and you believe mcmurtrie never meant to keep his word to me?" i asked. she laughed again scornfully. "if you knew him as well as i do, you wouldn't need to ask that. he would simply have disappeared with the money and left you to rot or starve." i took out my case, and having given sonia a cigarette, lit one myself. "it's an unpleasant choice," i said, "but i gather there's a possible alternative." she lighted her own cigarette and threw away the match. her dark eyes were alight with excitement. "listen," she said. "all the germans want is the secret. do you suppose they care in the least whom they get it from? you have only got to prove to them that you can do what you say, and they will pay you the money just as readily as they would the doctor." there was a magnificent simplicity about the idea that for a moment almost took my breath away. "how could i get in touch with them?" i asked. she leaned forward again, and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "i can take you now--now right away--to the two men who are in charge of the whole business. i know that they have an absolutely free hand to make the best terms they can." "who are they?" i demanded, with an eagerness i made no attempt to hide. "their names are seeker and von brünig, and they're living in a small bungalow on sheppey. they are supposed to be artists. as a matter of fact, von brünig is a captain in the germany navy. i don't know who the other man is; i think he has been sent over specially about the powder." her statement fitted in so exactly with what i had already found out from latimer and gow, that i hadn't the remotest doubt she was telling me the literal truth. of its importance--its vital importance to england--there could be no question. i felt my heart beating quickly with excitement, but the obvious necessity for fixing on some scheme of immediate action kept my brain cool and clear. the first thing was to gain a moment or two to think in. "you realize what all this means, sonia?" i said. "you're quite prepared to throw over your father and mcmurtrie? you know how the doctor deals with people who betray him--when he gets the chance?" "i am not afraid of them," she answered defiantly. "they are nothing to me; i hate them both--and hoffman too. it's you i want. you are the only man i ever have wanted." she paused, and i saw her breast rising and falling rapidly with the stress of her emotion. "we will go away together--somewhere the other side of the world--america, buenos ayres--oh, what does it matter where?--there are plenty of places! what does anything matter so long as we love each other!" she half rose to her feet, but i jumped up first. "one moment, sonia," i said. "let me think." thrusting my hands in my pockets, i strode across the room, and pulling up in front of the little window, stared out across the marsh. as i did so, i felt as if some one had suddenly placed a large handful of crushed ice inside my waistcoat. about two hundred yards away, strolling cheerfully and unconcernedly towards the hut, was the charming but painfully inopportune figure of joyce. it was a most unpleasant second. in my excitement at listening to sonia's revelations, i had clean forgotten for the time that joyce was coming, and now it was too late for the recollection to be of much practical use. except for an earthquake, or the sudden arrival of the end of the world, nothing could stop her from reaching the hut in another five minutes. i stood quite still, racking my brains as to what was the best thing to do. it was no use trying to signal to her from the window, for sonia would be certain to see me; while if i made some excuse for going outside, joyce would probably call out to me before i had time to warn her. my only hope seemed to lie in the chance of her hearing us talking as she came up to the door, in which case she would know at once that there was some one there and go straight on to the _betty_. i had just reached this conclusion when a queer sound behind me made me spin round as if i had been struck. sonia, who had risen to her feet, was standing and facing me; her whole attitude suggestive of a highly-annoyed tigress. i don't think i have ever seen such a malevolent expression on any human being's face in my life. for an instance we stood staring at each other without speaking, and then quite suddenly i realized what was the matter. clutched tight in her right hand was a letter--a letter which i recognized immediately as the one i had received from joyce that morning. like a fool i must have left it lying on the desk, and while i was looking out of the window she had evidently picked it up and read it. i hadn't much time, however, for self-reproaches. "so, you have been lying to me all through," she broke out bitterly. "this girl is your mistress; and all the time you have simply been using me to help yourself. oh, i see it all now. i see why you were so anxious to come to london. while i have been working and scheming for you, you and she ..." her voice failed from very fury, and tearing the letter in pieces, she flung them on the ground at my feet. i suppose i attempted some sort of reply, for she broke out again more savagely than ever. "she _is_ your mistress! do you dare to deny it, with that letter staring me in the face? coming down to 'kiss you and be kissed by you,' is she? well, she's used to that, at all events!" her voice choked again, and with her hands clenched she made a quick step forward in my direction. then quite suddenly i saw her whole expression change. the anger in her eyes gave place to a gleam of recognition, and the next moment her lips parted in a peculiarly malicious smile. she was looking past me through the open window. "ah!" she said. "so that's why you were standing there! you didn't expect me to be here when she arrived, did you?" with a mocking laugh she turned to the doorway. "never mind," she added viciously: "you will be able to introduce us." even if i had tried to prevent her it would have been too late. with a swift movement she flung back the door, and stepped forward across the threshold. joyce was standing about fifteen yards away, facing the hut. she had evidently just heard the sound of sonia's voice, and had pulled up abruptly, as i expected she would. directly the door opened, she turned as if to continue her walk. sonia laughed again. "please don't go away," she said. there was a moment's pause, and then i too advanced to the door. i saw that there was nothing else for it except the truth. "joyce," i said, "this is sonia. she has just read your letter, which i left lying on the desk." it must have been a bewildering situation even to such a quick-witted person as joyce, but all the same one would never have guessed the fact from her manner. for perhaps a second she stood still, looking from one to the other of us; then, with that sudden engaging smile of hers, she came forward and held out her hand to sonia. "i am so glad to meet you," she said simply. "neil has told me how good you have been to him." sonia remained quite motionless. she had drawn herself up to her full height, and she stared at joyce with a cool hatred she made no attempt to conceal. "yes," she said; "i have no doubt he told you that. he will have a lot more to tell you as soon as i've gone. you will have plenty to talk about when you're not kissing." with a low, cruel little laugh she stepped forward. "make the most of him while you've got him," she added. "it won't be for long." as the last word left her lips, she suddenly raised the glove she was holding in her hand, and struck joyce fiercely across the face. in one stride i was up with them--god knows what i meant to do--but, thrusting out her arm, joyce motioned me back. "it's all right, neil dear," she said. "i should have done exactly the same." for a moment we all three remained just as we were, and then without a word sonia turned on her heel and walked off rapidly in the direction of the tilbury road. chapter xxii the police take action "what have we done, neil?" joyce put the question with a calmness that was truly delightful. "it seems to me," i said, "that we've torn it badly." then, with a last look at sonia's retreating figure, i added: "come inside, and i'll try to explain." we entered the hut, where the floor was still strewn with the fragments of joyce's letter. she seated herself on the edge of the bed and waited patiently while i took a couple of turns up and down the room. "joyce," i said, "i deserve kicking. i'm not sure i haven't messed up the whole business." "tell me," she said quietly. "i know about latimer already; i saw tommy at the flat this morning." "well, that simplifies things," i said; and without wasting any further time in self-reproaches, i plunged straight into the story of sonia's surprise visit and its abrupt and spirited ending. "how i could have been such an ass i don't know," i finished ruefully. "i must have put the letter down on the table after i'd done reading it, and there i suppose it was sitting the whole time." joyce, who had listened to me without interrupting, nodded her head. "it was just one of those things that had got to happen," she said philosophically. "it's no good worrying now. the thing is, what are we to do about it?" i thought for a moment. "we must let latimer know at once," i said. "i'll write out what sonia told me--just the main facts, and you must take the letter straight up to london, and find him as soon as you can. i shall stop here, as he asked me to." joyce's face looked a little troubled. "what do you think sonia will do?" she asked. "goodness knows!" i said. "she seemed to have some particularly unpleasant intention at the back of her mind; but i don't quite see what it is." "she won't care what she does," said joyce. "i know exactly how she feels. suppose she were to go to the police?" "she could hardly do that," i objected. "she'd be incriminating herself." "but suppose she does," persisted joyce. "suppose they come and arrest you here; latimer won't be able to help you then." "i can't go back now, joyce," i said seriously. "i can't get out of it just because it might be dangerous to me. after all, it's england they're scheming against." "and what if it is?" she returned indignantly. "a nice way england's treated you!" i came over to the bed and took her hands in mine. "come, joyce," i said, "you don't really mean that. i want encouraging, not depressing. all my natural instincts are to look after myself and let england go to the devil." half laughing and half crying, she jumped up and threw her arms round me. "no, no, no," she said. "i want you to do the right thing always; but oh, neil, i'm so frightened of losing you. i just can't do without you now." "well," i said, "i'm hanged if i can do without you, so we're in the same boat." i kissed her twice, and then, sitting down at the table, made a brief summary of what i had learned from sonia. latimer so far knew nothing of my relations with the latter, so i was compelled to explain how badly i had behaved in order to account for her visit. i then gave him a short description of the painful way in which the interview had terminated, and added the information that i was waiting on at the hut in the expectation of a visit from mcmurtrie. "you can explain things more fully to him, joyce," i said. "it's no good trying to keep anything back now; we've gone too far. the great thing is to get that letter to him as soon as you possibly can. tommy will probably know where he is." she nodded. "i shall find him all right." she slipped the envelope inside her dress, and glanced at the watch she was wearing on her wrist. "there are several things i wanted to tell you," she added, "but they none of them matter for the moment. if i go at once, i can just catch the three-thirty." "i'll come as far as the road with you," i said. "i daren't leave the hut for long, in case mcmurtrie turns up." we went outside and had a good look round. sonia had long since disappeared, and the place wore its usual aspect of utter desolation. i took the precaution of locking the door, however, and then at a sharp pace we set off together across the marsh. "tell me about george," i said. "how are you getting on with the elopement plan?" joyce smiled. "i think george is growing a little impatient. he wants to get away as soon as possible." "yes," i said; "i have no doubt the mediterranean sounds attractive to him. there's a pretty stiff penalty attached to selling government secrets if you happen to be found out. besides, i expect he's still worrying a lot about me." joyce nodded. "he told me last night that i was the only thing that was keeping him in london. you see i can't quite make up my mind whether i love him well enough to come away." "that's unfortunate for george," i said. "latimer will probably act at once as soon as he gets that letter, and directly he does i mean to go straight to cheyne walk, unless i'm dead or in prison." joyce took my arm. "neil," she said, "whatever happens you mustn't be arrested. if you think there's any chance of it you must go on board the _betty_ and take her somewhere down the river. you can let me know at the flat where you are. promise me you will, neil. you see if the police once got hold of you, even latimer mightn't be able to do anything." for a moment i hesitated. so far i had told joyce nothing of the wild suspicion about marks's identity which sonia's revelations had put into my head. i didn't want to rouse hopes in her which might turn out quite baseless. besides, even if i were really on the right track, and marks was the man who had betrayed the gang in st. petersburg, it was quite another thing to prove that they were responsible for splitting his skull. i had nothing to support the idea beyond joyce's bare word that she had seen mcmurtrie in the flat on the afternoon of the murder. sonia's testimony might have been useful, but after today i could hardly picture her in the witness-box giving evidence on my behalf. on the whole, therefore, i thought it best for the present to keep the matter to myself. i promised, however, that in the event of my observing anything in the nature of a policeman stealthily approaching the hut i would at once seek sanctuary on the _betty_--an assurance which might have sounded worthless to some people, but certainly seemed to comfort joyce. anyhow she said good-bye to me with her usual cheerfulness and pluck, and we parted after a last affectionate kiss in full view of the open marsh. then i returned to the hut suffering from that novel and highly unpleasant sense of loneliness that joyce's departures had begun to awake in me. i don't think there is anything much more trying to one's nerves than having to sit and wait for some critical event which may happen at any moment. i have had a good deal of practice at waiting in my life, but i never remember the hours dragging so desperately slowly as they did the remainder of that afternoon. a dozen times i went over what latimer and sonia had told me, putting together their different stories in my mind and trying to think if there was any point i had overlooked. i could see none. the mere way in which they had corroborated each other was enough to make me feel sure that they were both speaking the truth. besides, everything that had happened from the moment i had crept in through the kitchen window at mcmurtrie's house pointed to the same conclusion. i may appear stupid not to have seen through the doctor earlier, but after all a gang of professional spies is hardly the sort of thing one expects to run up against in a devonshire village. a few years ago, indeed, i should have laughed at the idea of their existence anywhere outside the pages of a shilling shocker, but my three years in dartmoor had led me to take a rather more generous view of what life can throw up in the way of scoundrels. whether they had killed marks or not, i had little doubt now that they were wholly responsible for the attempt to murder latimer. though i had good evidence that when it came to the point the two gentlemen on sheppey didn't stick at trifles, i could hardly fancy a couple of german naval officers deliberately countenancing such methods. if they had, they certainly deserved the worst fate that even mr. gow could wish them. somehow or other my private interest in the affair seemed to have been temporarily forced into the background. i felt i was probably doing the best thing i could for myself in throwing in my lot with latimer, but in any case his enthusiasm had got hold of me, and at all risks i was determined to stick to my side of the bargain. i knew that in her heart joyce would have hated me to do otherwise. my chief danger, as she had instantly seen, was the chance of sonia betraying me to the police. the latter, who knew nothing of the part i was playing as a sort of unpaid bottle-washer to the secret service, would at once jump at the chance of arresting an escaped convict--especially such a well-advertised one as myself. however improbable sonia's story might sound, they would at least be certain to take the trouble to investigate it. on the other hand, of course sonia might not go to the police at all, and even if she did, it was quite possible that latimer would strike first and so give me the chance of clearing out. anyhow, forewarned as i was, i felt it would be an uncommonly bright policeman who succeeded in arresting me. in the day-time, so long as i kept a good look out, anything like a surprise attack was impossible, and after that night i made up my mind that i would sleep on the _betty_. the only thing was, i should most certainly have to deprive myself of the luxury of a skipper. useful as he was at taking letters into tilbury, it would be decidedly embarrassing to have him on board if i happened to arrive in a hurry on the beach with two perspiring detectives in hot pursuit. at six o'clock, as there was still no sign of a visitor, i decided to walk over to the _betty_ and tell mr. gow that he could treat himself to another holiday. it would only take me about half an hour, and in case mcmurtrie turned up while i was away i could leave a message on the door to the effect that i should be back before seven. i did this, pinning it up carefully with a drawing-tack and then after making sure that everything was secure i started off for the creek. i found mr. gow in his usual restful attitude, his head and shoulders sticking up out of the fo'c's'le hatch, and a large pipe protruding from his mouth. with the instincts of a true retainer he promptly removed the latter as soon as he heard my hail, and hoisting himself up on deck put off in the dinghy. "i'm not coming aboard," i said. "i only walked over to tell you that you can have a couple of days ashore. we shan't be using the boat till saturday or sunday." he thanked me and touched his cap (i could see he was beginning to think it was rather a soft job he had stumbled into), and then, with the air of some one breaking unpleasant tidings, he added: "do you happen to know, sir, as we're clean out o' petrol?" i didn't happen to know it, but under the circumstances it was information i was glad to acquire. "can you get me some--soon?" i asked. he nodded. "i'll bring along a couple o' cans in the mornin', sir, and leave 'em aboard." "any news?" i asked. "well, sir, i seed the dutchmen's launch goin' down this arternoon--travellin' proper they was too, same as when they swamped me. i suppose you ain't bin able to do nothin' about that matter not yet, sir?" "i'm looking into it, mr. gow," i said. "i have a friend helping me, and between us i think we shall be able to get some satisfaction out of them. i shall probably have more to tell you on saturday." with this answer he seemed quite content. "well, i'll just run back aboard and get my bag, sir," he observed. "i reckon i'd better pull the dinghy up on top o' the bank when i done with her. if any o' them tilbury folk should 'appen to come along they won't see 'er then--not among the long grass." it was a sensible suggestion on the face of it, but in view of the fact that i might find it necessary to embark rather abruptly, i couldn't afford to risk any unnecessary delays. "don't bother about that tonight, gow," i said. "just drag her above high-water mark. it's quite possible i may be using her in the morning." having thus provided for my retreat in the case of an emergency, i returned to the hut by the usual route along the sea-front. i took the precaution of putting up my head and inspecting the place carefully before climbing over the sea-wall, but i might as well have saved myself the trouble. the marsh was quite deserted, and when i reached the hut i found my little notice still pinned to the door, and no trace of any one having paid me a visit in my absence. i remained in the same state of splendid isolation for the rest of the evening. there was no difficulty about keeping watch, for as soon as the sun went down a large obliging moon appeared in the sky, lighting up the marsh and the tilbury road almost as clearly as if it were day-time. i could have seen a rabbit a hundred yards off, let alone anything as big and obvious as a scotland yard detective. at about one in the morning i turned in for a couple of hours' rest. i felt that if sonia had gone straight to the authorities they would have acted before this, while if she was sleeping on her wrath there was no reason i shouldn't do the same. i had given up any expectation of mcmurtrie until the next morning. i woke at half-past three, and resumed my vigil in the pure cool twilight of early dawn. i watched the sun rise over the river, and gradually climb up into a sky of pale blue and lemon that gave promise of another radiantly fine day. there was scarcely a breath of wind stirring, and everything was so deliciously quiet and peaceful that it almost seemed as if the events of the last three years were merely the memory of some particularly vivid nightmare. "almost," i say, for as a matter of fact i was never for a moment under any such pleasant delusion. if i had been, i should have had an early awakening, for at eight o'clock, just as i was thinking of routing out something in the nature of breakfast, i saw a little black dot advancing along the tilbury road, which soon resolved itself into the figure of my faithful charles. he struck off across the marsh and came up to the hut, where i was standing at the door waiting for him. "two telegrams and a letter for you, sir," he said, producing them from his bag. "they came this morning, sir." with an assumption of leisurely indifference that i was very far from feeling, i took them out of his hand. the letter was addressed in mcmurtrie's writing, but i put it aside for a moment in favour of the two wires. the first was from joyce. "saw l. late yesterday evening. he will act today. agrees with my suggestion about the _betty_ if necessary. j." i thrust it into my pocket and opened the other. "a copper come last nite and ask for you. he see misses o." for an instant i stared at this cryptic message in bewilderment; then suddenly the recollection of my final instructions to gertie 'uggins rushed into my mind. so sonia _had_ gone to the police, or had at least contrived to send them a message which served the same purpose. their visit to edith terrace was probably explained by the fact that she had given them both addresses so as better to establish the truth of her story. anyhow the murder was out, and with a new and not unpleasant thrill of excitement i crushed up gertie's wire in my hand and tore open mcmurtrie's letter. "dear mr. nicholson, "i have been away on business and have only just received your letter, otherwise i should have come to see you this afternoon. in the first place allow me to congratulate you most heartily on your success, of which personally i was never in any doubt. "for the moment i have left the hotel russell, and am staying with some friends in sheppey. i shall run up the river in their launch early tomorrow morning, as i believe there is a small creek close to the hut where we can put in. "please have a specimen of the powder ready, and if it is possible i should like you to arrange for an actual demonstration, as i shall have a friend with me who is already considerably interested in our little company, and would be prepared to put up further capital if convinced of the merits of your invention. "you can expect us about high water, between half-past nine and ten. "your sincere friend, "l.j. mcmurtrie." as i read the signature mcmurtrie's smiling mask-like face seemed suddenly to rise up in front of me, and all my old instincts of distrust and repulsion came to keep it company. so he was at the bungalow, and in little over an hour he would be here--he and the mysterious friend who was "already considerably interested in our little company." i smiled grimly at the phrase; it was so characteristic of the doctor; though when he wrote it he could little have guessed how thoroughly i should be able to appreciate it. he was also equally ignorant of the complications introduced into the affair by sonia. unless i had been altogether misled by gertie's message, it was probable that the police were even now on their way to arrest me, just as mcmurtrie's launch was most likely setting out from the little creek under the bungalow. there seemed every prospect of my having a busy and interesting morning. at this point in my reflections i looked up, and found charles eyeing me with an air of respectful patience. i took some money out of my pocket, and selecting a ten-shilling piece placed it in his grubby but not unwilling palm. "you are a most useful boy, charles," i said, "and you can keep the change as usual." he pocketed the coin with a gratified stammer. "you ain't 'ad time to make no fireworks yourself, sir?" he hazarded, after a short pause. "not yet," i replied; "but it looks as if i should today." he brightened up still further at the news, and observing that he hoped there would be some letters to bring the next morning departed on his return journey. i went back into the hut and shut the door. now that matters were so rapidly approaching a climax, i felt curiously cheerful and light-hearted. i suppose it was a reaction from the strain and hard work of the previous week, but anyhow the thought that in all probability the police were hard on my track didn't seem to worry me in the least. the only point was whether they would reach the hut before mcmurtrie did. i hoped not, for i was looking forward to an interview with the doctor, but it certainly seemed as well to take every precaution. i started by unearthing the box of powder from outside, and filling up my flask from it. then, when i had covered it over again, i collected all the papers which i had not burned on the previous day, and stored them away in my inside pockets. finally i opened a tinned tongue, and aided by the dry remains of my last loaf, made a healthy if not very exciting breakfast. i never believe in conducting violent exertions on an empty tummy. all this time, i need hardly say, i was keeping an uncommonly sharp look-out over the marsh. the most likely way in which any one who didn't wish to be seen would attempt to approach the hut was along the tilbury road, and it was towards the last clump of trees, behind which sonia had left her car the previous day, that i directed my chief attention. three-quarters of an hour passed, and i was just beginning to think that mcmurtrie would be the winner after all, when i suddenly caught sight of something dark slinking across the exposed part of the road beyond the plantation. standing very still, i watched carefully from the window. i have excellent eyesight, and i soon made out that there were three separate figures all stooping low and moving with extreme caution towards the shelter of the trees. a sudden and irresistible desire to laugh seized hold of me; there was something so intensely funny about the strategic pains they were taking, when all the while they might just as well have advanced boldly across the open marsh. still it was hardly the time to linger over the comic side of the affair, so retiring from the window, i threw a last quick glance round the hut to make quite sure that i had left nothing i wanted behind. then walking to the door i opened it and stepped quietly outside. i decided that it was impossible to reach the sea-wall without being seen, so i made no attempt to do so. i just set off in the direction of the creek, strolling along in the easy, unhurried fashion of a man taking a morning constitutional. i had not gone more than ten yards, when from the corner of my eye i saw three figures break simultaneously out of the plantation. they no longer made any pretence about their purpose. one of them cut straight down towards the hut, a second came running directly after me, while the third started off as rapidly as possible along the road, so as to head me off if i attempted to escape inland. any further strategy on my part appeared to be out of place. i grasped the position in one hurried glance, and then, buttoning my coat and ramming down my cap, openly and frankly took to my heels. i heard the gentlemen behind shout out something which sounded like a request that i should stop, but i was too occupied to pay much attention. the marsh was infested with small drains, and one had to keep one's eyes glued on the ground immediately ahead to avoid coming an unholy purler. that was the only thing i was afraid of, as i was in excellent condition, and i have always been a very fair runner. when i had covered about a couple of hundred yards i looked back over my shoulder. i expected to find that i had widened the gap, but to my dismay i discovered that my immediate pursuer had distinctly gained on me. i could just see that he was a tall, active-looking fellow in a policeman's uniform, with a long raking stride that was carrying him over the ground in the most unpleasant fashion. unless he fell over a drain and broke his silly neck it seemed highly probable that he would arrive at the creek almost as soon as i did. as i ran i prayed fervently in my heart that mr. gow had followed my instructions and left the dinghy within easy reach of the water. otherwise i was in a tight place, for though i could swim to the _betty_ all right, it would be impossible to take her out of the creek in a dead calm and with no petrol aboard for the engine. i should be compelled to stand at bay until a breeze got up, repelling boarders with the boat-hook! just before i reached the sea-wall i looked round a second time. my pursuer was now only about thirty yards distant, but it was evident that his efforts had begun to tell on him. he again shouted out some breathless advice to the effect that it would be "best" for me to surrender, but without waiting to argue the point i scrambled up the bank and cast a hurried, anxious glance round for the dinghy. any doubts i might have had about mr. gow's trustworthiness were instantly dispelled. the boat was lying on the mud only a few yards out of reach of the tide. with a gasp of thankfulness i leaped on to the saltings, and clearing the distance in about three strides, clutched hold of the gunwale and began to drag it towards the water. just as i reached that desirable element the figure of my pursuer appeared above the bank. i gave a last savage wrench, but my foot slipped in the treacherous mud, and i as nearly as possible stumbled to my knees. that final tug, however, had done the trick. the boat was floating, and with a wild effort i scrambled in, and seizing an oar, shoved off furiously from the shore. i was only just in time. jumping from the sea-wall, the policeman fairly hurled himself across the intervening space, and without a moment's hesitation plunged into the creek after me. i shortened my oar, and as he made a grab for the stern i suddenly lunged forward with all the force i could command. the blade took him fair and square in the wind, and with a loud observation that sounded like "ouch!" he sat down abruptly in the water. before he could recover himself i was ten yards from the shore, sculling vigorously for the centre of the stream. i made no attempt to reach the _betty_. there was still a dead calm, and by going on board i should merely have been shutting myself up in a prison from which there was no escape. my best plan seemed to be to make for the open river, when i might either pick up mcmurtrie and his launch, or else row across to the opposite shore. i accordingly headed for the mouth of the creek, while my pursuer, who by this time had sufficiently recovered to stagger to his feet, waded dismally back to the shore. here he was joined by his two companions, who had evidently been following the chase with praiseworthy determination. for a moment i saw them all three consulting together, and then my friend the policeman started hastily throwing off his clothes with the apparent intention of swimming across the river, while the other two came running along the bank after me. they were both in plain clothes, but the unmistakable stamp of a scotland yard detective was clearly imprinted on each of them. they soon caught me up, and hurrying on ahead reached the mouth of the creek, while i was still some twenty yards short of it. i was just wondering what on earth they hoped to do, when, looking over my shoulder, i saw one of them scramble up the sea-wall, and begin to shout and wave his arms as if he had suddenly gone mad. a few savage pulls brought me up level, and then turning in my seat i discovered the cause of his excitement. some way out in the stream was a small coast-guard cutter with three men on board, two of whom were at the oars. they had evidently grasped that there was something serious the matter, for they had brought their boat round and were already heading in towards the shore. my position began to look a trifle unhealthy. i was out of practice for sculling, and if the coast-guards chose to interfere it was obviously only a question of a few minutes before they would succeed in rowing me down. for a moment i had some idea of going ashore on the opposite bank, and again trusting to my heels. then i saw that my friend the policeman, who could apparently swim as well as he could run, was already half way across the creek, and would be on my track long before i could get the necessary start. on the whole it seemed best to stick to the water, so digging in my sculls i pulled out into the main stream. as i rounded the sea-wall i could hear the man who was standing on top bawling out my name to the coast-guards, and hurling them frantic injunctions to cut me off. i cast one swift glance up and down the river, and as i did so i nearly gave a shout of excitement. a couple of hundred yards away, but coming up at a tremendous pace, was a large white petrol launch, which i recognized immediately as the one that had swamped mr. gow. whether the coast-guards saw her too i really can't say. i doubt if they did, for by this time they had evidently realized who i was, and their whole attention was fixed on preventing my escape. they were rowing towards me with tremendous energy, the officer in charge half standing up in the stern and encouraging them to still fiercer efforts. putting every ounce i could into my stroke, i set off down stream. it was just a question as to whether i could clear them, and i doubt if any winner of the diamond sculls could have shoved that dinghy along much faster than i did for the next few seconds. nearer and nearer we drew to each other, and for one instant i thought that i had done the trick. then from the corner of my eye i saw the cutter fairly leap forward through the water, and the next moment, with a jolt that almost flung me out of the seat, she bumped alongside. dropping his oar, one of the men leaned over and grabbed hold of my gunwale. "no go, mister," he observed breathlessly. "you got to come along with us." the words had hardly left his lips when with a wild shout the officer in charge leaped to his feet. "look out, there!" he yelled. "port, you fools! port your helm!" i swung round, and got a momentary glimpse of a sharp white prow with a great fan of water curling away each side of it, and then, before i could move, there came a jarring, grinding crash, mixed with a fierce volley of shouts and oaths. chapter xxiii in the nick of time my impressions of what happened next are a trifle involved. something hit me violently in the side, almost knocking me silly, while at the same moment the boat seemed to disappear from beneath me, and i was flying head first into the water. i struck out instinctively as i fell, and came to the surface almost at once. i just remember a blurred vision of floating wreckage, with something white rising up in front of me. then a rope came hurtling through the air, and caught me full in the face. i clutched at it wildly, and the next thing i knew i was being dragged violently through the water and hauled in over the side of the launch. it was all over so quickly that for a moment i scarcely realized what had happened. i just lay where i was, gasping for breath, and spitting out a large mouthful of the thames which i had unintentionally appropriated. above the throbbing of the engine and the swish of the screw i could still hear a confused medley of shouts and curses. with an effort i sat up and looked about me. we had already changed our course, and were swinging round in a half-circle, preparatory to heading back down stream. the smashed remains of the two boats were bobbing about behind us, and in the midst of them i could make out the figures of the coast-guards, clinging affectionately to various bits of wreckage. besides myself, there were three other men in the launch. dr. mcmurtrie was sitting on the seat just opposite, pouring out the contents of a flask into a small metal cup. against the cabin door leaned savaroff, eyeing me with his usual expression of hostile mistrust. the third passenger was the man with the auburn beard, whom i had seen in the launch on the day i picked up mr. gow. he was busy with the tiller, and for the moment was paying scant attention to any of us. mcmurtrie got up with the cup in his hand and came across to where i was sitting. "drink this," he said. "this," proved to be some excellent old brandy, which i tossed off with no little gratitude. it was exactly what i wanted to pull me together. "are you hurt?" he asked. i felt myself carefully before replying. "i'm all right now," i said. "i got rather a crack in the ribs, but i don't think anything's gone." "we seem to have arrived just in time to prevent your arrest," he said quietly. "perhaps you will be good enough to explain what has happened? at present we are rather in the dark." he spoke with his usual suavity, but there was a veiled menace in his voice which it was impossible to overlook. savaroff scowled at me more truculently than ever. it was obvious that both of them were entirely ignorant of sonia's part in the affair, and suspected me of some extraordinary bit of clumsiness. i prepared myself for some heavy lying. "i know precious little more about it than you do," i said coolly. "i was getting things ready for you this morning, when i happened to look out of the window, and saw three men crawling towards the hut on their hands and knees. as one of them was wearing a policeman's uniform, i thought i had better cut and run. well, i cut and ran. i made for the creek because i thought you might be there. you weren't; but there was a dinghy on the shore, which i suppose belonged to a small yacht that was anchored out in the channel. anyhow, i took the liberty of borrowing it. i meant to row out into the river, and try to pick you up before they could get hold of a boat and follow me. if it hadn't been for these infernal coast-guards, i'd have managed it all right. i don't think they really had anything to do with the business, but they just happened to be passing, and of course when the police shouted to them they cut in at once." i paused. "and that's the whole story," i finished, "as far as i know anything about it." they had all three listened to me with eager attention. even the man with the auburn beard had kept on looking away from his steering to favour me with quick glances out of his hard blue eyes. i think i came through the combined scrutiny with some credit. mcmurtrie was the first to break the ensuing silence. "have you any idea how you have betrayed yourself? you can speak quite freely. our friend mr. von brünig knows the position." i thought it best to take the offensive. "i haven't betrayed myself," i said angrily. "somebody must have done it for me. i've not left the hut since i came down except for an occasional breath of air." "but earlier--when you were in london?" he persisted. i shook my head. "i have been down here a week. you don't imagine the police would have waited as long as that." i knew i was putting them in a difficulty, for by this time they must be all aware that latimer was still on their track, and it was obviously conceivable that my attempted arrest might be due in some way to my connection with them; anyhow i saw that even savaroff was beginning to regard me a shade less suspiciously. "have you brought any of the powder with you?" asked mcmurtrie. it struck me instantly that if i said yes, i should be putting myself absolutely in their power. "i hadn't time to get any," i answered regretfully. "i had buried it outside the hut, and they came on me so suddenly there was no chance of digging it up. now i have once done it, however, i can make some more very quickly." it was the flattest lie i have ever told; but i managed to get it off with surprising ease. it is astonishing what rapid strides one can make in the art of perjury with a very little practice. savaroff gave a grunt of disappointment, and mcmurtrie turned to von brünig, who was frowning thoughtfully, and made some almost inaudible remark in german. the latter answered at some length, but he kept his voice so low that, with my rather sketchy knowledge of that unpleasant language, it was impossible for me to overhear what he was saying. besides, he evidently didn't intend me to, and i had no wish to spoil the good impression i had apparently made by any appearance of eavesdropping. it seemed to me that my course lay pretty straight in front of me. latimer had all the information now he was likely to get, and i knew from joyce's wire that he intended to act immediately. in addition to this, the running down of the cutter would be known to scotland yard as soon as ever the men who had been sent to arrest me could get to a telephone, and the river-police and coast-guards everywhere would be warned to keep a sharp look-out for von brünig's launch. in an hour or two at the most something was bound to happen, and the way in which i could make myself most useful seemed to be in delaying the break-up and escape of the party as long as possible. if i had to be arrested, i was determined that the others should be roped in as well. i had just arrived at this point in my meditations when mcmurtrie and von brünig came to an end of their muttered conversation. the former turned back to me. "you probably understand, mr. lyndon, that this unfortunate affair with the police alters our plans entirely. at present i am quite unable to see how they have found you out, unless you have betrayed yourself by some piece of unintentional carelessness. anyhow, the fact remains that they know where you are, and that very probably they will be able to trace this launch." savaroff nodded. "as likely as not we shall have a shot across our bows when we get to sheerness," he growled. mcmurtrie, as usual, took no notice of his interruption. "there is only one thing to do," he said. "mr. von brünig, who, as i have already told you, is interested in our syndicate, has offered to put his country house in germany at our service. we must cross over to holland before the police have time to interfere." "do you mean now, at once?" i asked, with a sudden inward feeling of dismay. mcmurtrie nodded. "we have to pick up a couple of friends at sheppey first. after that we can run straight across to the hague." the proposal was so obviously sensible that, without arousing his suspicion, i could see no way for the moment of raising any objection. the great thing was to keep the "syndicate" together, and to delay our departure until latimer had had time to scoop the lot of us. could anything provide him with a more favourable opportunity than the collection of the whole crowd in that remote bungalow at sheppey? it was surely there if anywhere he would strike first, and i hoped, very feelingly, that he would not be too long about it. my powers of postponing our voyage to holland appeared to have a distinct time-limit. "there seems nothing else to do," i said. "i am sorry to have been the cause of changing all our plans; but the whole thing is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. however the police got on to my track, it wasn't through any carelessness of mine. i am no more anxious to go back to dartmoor now than i was six weeks ago." this last observation at least was true; and i can only hope the recording angel jotted it down as a slight set-off against the opposite column. savaroff removed his bulky form from in front of the cabin door, and crossing the well, sat down beside the others. they began to talk again in german; but as before i could only catch the merest scraps of their conversation. once i heard sonia's name mentioned by mcmurtrie, and i just caught savaroff's muttered reply to the effect that she was all right where she was, and could follow us to germany later. as far as i could judge, they none of them had the remotest suspicion that she was in any way connected with the crisis. all this while we had been throbbing along down stream at a terrific pace, keeping well to the centre of the river, and giving such small vessels as we passed a reasonably wide berth. if there was any trouble coming to us it seemed most likely to materialize in the neighbourhood of southend or sheerness, which were the two places to which the police would be almost certain to send a description of the launch as soon as they could get to a telephone. as we reached the first danger-zone, i noticed von brünig beginning to cast rather anxious glances towards the shore. no one seemed to pay any attention to us, however, and without slackening speed, we swept out into the broad highway of the thames estuary. there were several torpedo-boats lying off sheerness, but these also remained utterly indifferent to our presence. apparently the police had been too occupied in rescuing their coast-guard allies from a watery grave to reach a telephone in time, and we passed along down the coast unsuspected and unchallenged. whatever von brünig's weak points might be, he could certainly steer a motor-boat to perfection. he turned into the little creek under the bungalow at a pace which i certainly wouldn't have cared to attempt even in my wildest mood, and brought up in almost the identical spot where we had anchored the _betty_ on the historic night of latimer's rescue. we had a small collapsible berthon boat on board, just big enough to hold four at a pinch. i watched savaroff getting it ready, wondering grimly whether there was any chance of their leaving me on the launch with only one member of the party as a companion. it would have suited me excellently, though it might have been a little inconvenient for my prospective guardian. mcmurtrie, however, promptly shattered this agreeable possibility by inviting me to take a seat in the boat. i think he believed i had told him the truth, but he evidently had no intention of letting me out of his sight again until i had actually handed him over the secret of the powder. we landed at the foot of a little winding path, and dragged our boat out of the water on to a narrow strip of shingle. then we set off up the cliff at a rapid pace, with von brünig leading the way and savaroff bringing up the rear. the bungalow was situated about a couple of hundred yards from the summit, almost hidden by the high privet hedge which i had noticed from the sea. this hedge ran right round the garden, the only entrance being a small white gate in front of the house. von brünig walked up, the path followed by the rest of us, and thrusting his key into the lock pushed open the door. we found ourselves in a fairly big, low-ceilinged apartment, lighted by a couple of french windows opening on to the side garden. they were partly covered by two long curtains, each drawn half way across. the place was comfortably furnished, and an easel with a half-finished seascape on it bore eloquent witness to the purity of its tenants' motives. von brünig looked round with a sort of impatient surprise. "where are the others?" he demanded harshly. "why have they left the place empty in this way?" "they must have walked over to the post-office," said mcmurtrie. "i know hoffman wanted to send a telegram. they will be back in a minute, i expect." von brünig frowned. "they ought not to have done so. seeker at least should have known better. after the other night--" he paused, and crossing the room threw open a door and disappeared into an adjoining apartment. without waiting for an invitation, i seated myself on a low couch in the farther corner of the room. i felt quite cool, but i must admit that the situation was beginning to strike me as a little unpromising. unless latimer turned up precious soon it seemed highly probable that he would be too late. considering the importance of getting me safely to germany, neither von brünig nor mcmurtrie was likely to stay a minute longer than was necessary. i might, of course, refuse to go with them, but in that case the odds were that i should simply be overpowered and taken on board by force. von brünig himself looked a pretty tough handful to tackle, while savaroff was about as powerful as a well-grown bullock. once i was safe in the former's "country house" they would no doubt reckon on finding some means of bringing me quickly to reason. with a bag in one hand and a bundle of papers in the other von brünig came back into the room. "i shall not wait," he announced curtly. "the risks are too great. seeker and your friend must follow as best they can." "they are bound to be here in a minute," objected savaroff. von brünig turned on him with an angry gleam in his blue eyes. "i shall not wait," he repeated harshly. "the future of germany is of more importance than their convenience." mcmurtrie stepped forward, serene and imperturbable as ever. "i think mr. von brünig is right, savaroff," he said. "the police may have recognized the launch, and in that case it would be madness for us not to go while we have the chance. we can leave a note for the others." if savaroff had any further objections he kept them to himself. he turned away with a shrug on his broad shoulders, while mcmurtrie sat down at the table and hastily wrote a few lines which he showed to von brünig. the other nodded his head approvingly. "that will do very well," he said. "it will be safe if any one else should find it. seeker knows where to come to." mcmurtrie put the note in an envelope which he placed in the centre of the table. "and now," he said, pushing back his chair, "the sooner we are out of this the better." i felt that if i was going to interfere the right time had now arrived. von brünig's reply to savaroff had given me just the opening i needed. "one moment, gentlemen!" i said, getting up from the couch. they all three turned in obvious surprise at the interruption. "well?" rapped out von brünig, "what is it?" "i was under the impression," i said, "that this new explosive of mine was to be put on the market as an ordinary commercial enterprise." mcmurtrie rose from his chair and took a step forward. "you are perfectly right," he said. "why should you think otherwise?" "in that case," i replied steadily, "i should like to know what mr. von brünig meant by his remark about the 'future of germany.'" there was a short pause. "ach, himmel!" broke out von brünig. "what does it matter? what are we wasting time for? tell him if he wishes." "why, certainly," said mcmurtrie, smiling. "there is no mystery about it. i was merely keeping the matter quiet until it was settled." he turned to me. "the german government have made us a very good offer for your invention, provided of course that it will do what you claim." "it will do what i claim all right," i said coolly, "but i don't wish to sell it to the german government." there was a sort of explosive gasp from von brünig and savaroff, and i saw mcmurtrie's eyes narrow into two dangerous cat-like slits. "_you don't-wish!_" he repeated icily. "may i ask why?" "certainly," i said. "with the sole command of an explosive as powerful as mine, germany would be in a position to smash england in about six weeks." "and suppose she was," interrupted von brünig. "what in god's name does it matter to you--an escaped convict?" his voice rang with impatience and contempt, and i felt my own temper rising. "it matters just sufficiently," i said, "that i'll see you in hell first." mcmurtrie came slowly up to me, and looked me straight in the eyes. his face was white and terrible--a livid mask of controlled anger. "you fool," he said almost pityingly. "you incredible fool! do you imagine that you have any choice in the matter?" von brünig and savaroff moved up alongside of him, and i stood there confronting the three of them. "you have heard my choice," i said. mcmurtrie laughed. it was precisely the way in which i should imagine the devil laughs on the rare occasions when he is still amused. "you are evidently a bad judge of character, mr. lyndon," he said. "people who attempt to break faith with me are apt to find it a very unhealthy occupation." i felt utterly reckless now. i had done my best to delay things, and if neither the police nor the secret service was ready to take advantage of it, so much the worse for them--and me. "i can quite believe you, doctor," i said pleasantly. "i should imagine you were a dangerous ruffian from the intelligent way in which you murdered marks." it was a last desperate stroke, but it went home with startling effect. savaroff's face flushed purple, and with a fierce oath he gripped the back of a chair and swung it up over his head. the doctor stopped him with a gesture of his hand. as for von brünig, he stood where he was, staring from one to the other of us in angry bewilderment. he evidently hadn't the remotest notion what i was talking about. mcmurtrie was the first to speak. "yes," he said, in his coolest, silkiest voice. "i did kill marks. he was the last person who betrayed me. i rather think you will envy him before i have finished with you, mr. lyndon." "a thousand devils!" cried von brünig furiously: "what does all this nonsense mean? we may have the police here any moment. knock him on the head, the fool, and--" "stop!" the single word cut in with startling clearness. we all spun round in the direction of the sound, and there, standing in the window just between the two curtains, was the solitary figure of mr. bruce latimer. he was accompanied by a mauser pistol which flickered thoughtfully over the four of us. "keep still," he drawled--"quite still, please. i shall shoot the first man who moves." there was a moment of rather trenchant silence. then von brünig moistened his lips with his tongue. "are you mad, sir?" he began hoarsely. "by what--" with a lightning-like movement mcmurtrie slipped his right hand into his side pocket, and as he did so latimer instantly levelled his pistol. the two shots rang out simultaneously, but except for a cry and a crash of broken glass i knew nothing of what had happened. in one stride i had flung myself on savaroff, and just as he drew his revolver i let him have it fair and square on the jaw. dropping his weapon, he reeled backwards into von brünig, and the pair of them went to the floor with a thud that shook the building. almost at the same moment both the door and the window burst violently open, and two men came charging into the room. the first of the intruders was tommy morrison. i recognized him just as i was making an instinctive dive for savaroff's revolver, under the unpleasant impression that hoffman and the other german had returned from the post-office. you can imagine the delight with which i scrambled up again, clutching that useful if rather belated weapon in my hand. one glance round showed me everything there was to see. face downwards in a little pool of blood lay the motionless figure of mcmurtrie. savaroff also was still--his huge bulk sprawled in fantastic helplessness across the floor. only von brünig had moved; he was sitting up on his hands, staring in a half-dazed fashion down the barrel of latimer's mauser. it was latimer himself who renewed the conversation. "come and fix up these two, ellis," he said. "i will see to the other." the man who had burst in with tommy, a lithe, hard-looking fellow in a blue suit, walked crisply across the room, and pulling out a pair of light hand-cuffs snapped them round von brünig's wrists. he then performed a similar service for the still unconscious savaroff. the next moment latimer, tommy, and i were kneeling round the prostrate figure of the doctor. we lifted him up very gently and turned him over on to his back, using a rolled-up rug as a pillow for his head. he had been shot through the right lung and was bleeding at the mouth. latimer bent over and made a brief examination of the wound. then with a slight shake of his head he knelt back. "i'm afraid there's no hope," he remarked dispassionately. "it's a pity. we might have got some useful information out of him." there was a short pause, and then quite suddenly the dying man opened his eyes. it may have been fancy, but it seemed to me that for a moment a shadow of the old mocking smile flitted across his face. his lips moved, faintly, as though he were trying to speak. i bent down to listen, but even as i did so there came a fresh rush of blood into his throat, and with a long shudder that strange sinister spirit of his passed over into the darkness. i shall always wonder what it was that he left unsaid. chapter xxiv exonerated it was tommy who pronounced his epitaph. "well," he observed, "he was a damned scoundrel, but he played a big game anyhow." latimer thrust his hand into the dead man's pocket, and drew out a small nickel-plated revolver. one chamber of it was discharged. "not a bad shot," he remarked critically. "fired at me through his coat, and only missed my head by an inch." he got up and looked round the room at the shattered window and the other traces of the fray, his gaze coming finally to rest on the prostrate figure of savaroff. "that was a fine punch of yours, lyndon," he added. "i hope you haven't broken his neck." "i don't think so," i said. "necks like savaroff's take a lot of breaking." then, suddenly remembering, i added hastily: "by the way, you know that there are two more of the crowd--hoffman and a friend of von brünig's? they might be back any minute." latimer shook his head almost pensively. "it's improbable," he said. "i have every reason to believe that at the present moment they are in queenborough police station." i saw tommy grin, but before i could make any inquiries von brünig had scrambled to his feet. his face looked absolutely ghastly in its mingled rage and disappointment. after a fashion i could scarcely help feeling sorry for him. "i demand an explanation," he exclaimed hoarsely. "by what right am i arrested?" latimer walked up to him, and looked him quietly in the eyes. "i think you understand very well, _captain_ von brünig," he said. there was a pause, and then, with a glance that embraced the four of us, the german walked to the couch and sat down. if looks could kill i think we should all have dropped dead in our tracks. providence, however, having fortunately arranged otherwise, we remained as we were, and at that moment there came from outside the unmistakable sound of an approaching car. i saw latimer open his watch. "quick work, ellis," he remarked, with some satisfaction. "i wasn't expecting them for another ten minutes. tell them to come straight in." he snapped the case and turned back to me. "suppose we try and awake our sleeping friend," he added. "he looks rather a heavy weight for lifting about." between us we managed to hoist savaroff up into a chair, while tommy stepped across the room and fetched a bottle of water which was standing on the sideboard. i have had some practice in my boxing days of dealing with knocked-out men, and although savaroff was a pretty hard case, a little vigorous massage and one or two good sousings soon produced signs of returning consciousness. indeed, he had just recovered sufficiently to indulge in a really remarkable oath when the door swung open and ellis came back into the room, accompanied by two other men. one of them was dressed in ordinary clothes, the other wore the uniform of a police sergeant. i shall never forget the face of the latter as he surveyed the scene before him. "gawd bless us!" he exclaimed. "what's up now, sir? murder?" "not exactly, sergeant," replied latimer soothingly. "i shot this man in self-defence. the other two i give into your charge. there is a warrant out for all three of them." it appeared that the sergeant knew who latimer was, for he treated him with marked deference. "very well, sir," he said. "if 'e's dead, 'e's dead; anyhow, i've orders to take my instructions entirely from you." then, dragging a note-book out of his pocket, he added with some excitement: "there's another thing, sir, a matter that the tilbury station have just telephoned through about. it seems"--he consulted his references--"it seems that when they were in that launch of theirs they run down a party o' coast-guards, who'd got hold of lyndon, the missing convict. off tilbury it was. d'you happen to know anything about this, sir?" latimer nodded his head. "a certain amount, sergeant," he said. "you will find the launch in the creek at the bottom of the cliff." he paused. "this is mr. neil lyndon," he added; "i will be responsible for his safe keeping." i don't know what sort of experiences the isle of sheppey usually provides for its police staff, but it was obvious that, professionally speaking, the sergeant was having the day of his life. he stared at me for a moment with the utmost interest, and then, recollecting himself, turned and saluted latimer. "very good, sir," he said; "and what do you want me to do?" "i want you to stay here for the present with one of my men, while we go to the station. i shall send the car back, and then you will take the two prisoners into queenborough. my man will remain in charge of the bungalow." the sergeant saluted again, and latimer turned to me. "you and morrison must come straight to town," he said. "we shall just have time to catch the twelve-three." it was at this point that savaroff, who had been regarding us with the half-stupid stare of a man who has newly recovered consciousness, staggered up unsteadily from his chair. his half-numbed brain seemed suddenly to have grasped what was happening. "verfluchter schweinhund!" he shouted, turning on me. "so it was you, then--" he got no further. however embarrassed the sergeant might be by exceptional events, he was evidently thoroughly at home in his own department. "'ere!" he said, stepping forward briskly, "stow that, me man!" and with a sudden energetic thrust in the chest, he sent savaroff sprawling backwards on the couch almost on top of von brünig. "don't you use none of that language 'ere," he added, standing over them, "or as like as not you'll be sorry for it." there was a brief pause. "i see, sergeant," said latimer gravely, "that i am leaving the case in excellent hands." he gave a few final instructions to ellis, who was also staying behind, and then the four of us left the bungalow and walked quietly down the small garden path that led to the road. just outside the gate stood a powerful five-seated car. "start her up, guthrie," said latimer; and then turning to us, he added, with a smile: "i want you in front with me, lyndon. i know morrison's dying for a yarn with you, but he must wait." tommy nodded contentedly. "i can wait," he observed; "it's a habit i've cultivated where neil's concerned." we all clambered into the car, and, slipping in his clutch latimer set off at a rapid pace in the direction of queenborough. it was not until we had rounded the first corner that he opened the conversation. "how did you know about marks?" he asked, in that easy drawling voice of his. "i didn't know for certain," i said quietly. "it was more or less of a lucky shot." then, as he seemed to be waiting for a further explanation, i repeated to him as briefly as possible what sonia had told me about mcmurtrie's reason for visiting london. "i didn't go into all this in my letter to you," i finished, "because in the first place there was only just time for joyce to catch the train, and in the second i didn't want to disappoint her in case it should turn out to be all bunkum. you must have been rather amazed when i suddenly sprung it on mcmurtrie." he shook his head, smiling. "oh no," he said--"hardly amazed." he paused. "you see, i knew about it already," he added placidly. if there was any amazement to spare at that moment it was certainly mine. "you knew about it!" i repeated. "you knew that mcmurtrie had killed marks?" he nodded coolly. "you remember telling me in the boat that your friend miss--miss aylmer, isn't it?--had recognized him as the man she saw at the flat on the day of the murder?" "yes," i said. "well, if that was so, and you had been wrongly convicted, which i was inclined to believe, the doctor's presence on the scene seemed to require a little looking into. i knew that at that time he had only just arrived in london, so the odds were that he and marks were old acquaintances. i hunted up the evidence in your trial--i had rather forgotten it--and i found just what i expected. beyond the fact that marks was a foreigner and had been living in london for about eight years, no one seemed to know anything about him at all. the police were so confident in their case against you that apparently they hadn't even bothered to make the usual inquiries. if they had taken the trouble to communicate with st. petersburg, they could have found out all about mr. marks without much difficulty. the authorities there have a wonderfully complete system of remembering their old friends." "but three years afterwards--" i began. "it makes very little difference, especially as just at present we are on excellent terms with the russian secret service. they took the matter up for me, and last night i got the full particulars i wanted about the man who had given away mcmurtrie and his friends in st. petersburg. there can be no question that he and marks were the same person." i took a long--a very long breath. "there remains," i said, "the home office." "i don't think you need be seriously worried about the home office," returned latimer serenely. "by this time they have a full statement of the case--except, of course, for my direct evidence that i heard the doctor actually bragging of his achievement. i had a long interview with casement before i left london this morning, and he said he would go round directly after breakfast. he evidently arrived just too late to prevent the order for your arrest." i nodded. "sonia must have gone to the police last night," i said; and then in a few words i told him of the telegram i had received from gertie 'uggins, and how it had just enabled me to get away. "i don't know," i finished, "how much my double escape complicates matters. however unjust my sentence was, there's no denying i've committed at least three felonies since. i've broken prison, plugged a warder in the jaw, and shoved an oar into a policeman's tummy. do you think there's any possible chance of the home secretary being able to overlook such enormities?" latimer laughed easily. "my dear lyndon," he said, "in return for what you've done for us, you could decimate the police force if you wanted to." then, speaking more seriously, he added: "i tell you frankly, there's every chance of a huge european war in the near future, and you can see the different position we should be in if the germans had got hold of this new powder of yours. apart from that, the government owe you every possible sort of reparation for the shameful way you've been treated. if there's any 'overlooking' to be done, it will be on your side, not on theirs." we were entering the dreary main street of queenborough as he spoke, and before i could answer he drew up outside the post-office. "we've just time to send off a telegram," he said. "i want to make sure of seeing lammersfield and casement directly we get to town. they will probably be at lunch if i don't wire." he entered the building, and tommy took advantage of his brief absence to lean over the back of the seat and grip my hand. "we've done it, neil," he said. "damn it, we've done it!" "_you've_ done it, tommy," i retorted. "you and joyce between you." there was a short pause, and then tommy gave vent to a deep satisfied chuckle. "i'm thinking of george," he said simply. it was such a beautiful thought that for a moment i too maintained a voluptuous silence. "we must find out whether they're going to prosecute him," i said. "i don't want to clash with the government, but whatever happens i mean to have my five minutes first. they're welcome to what's left of him." tommy nodded sympathetically, and just at that moment latimer came out of the post-office. we got to the railway station with about half a minute to spare. the train was fairly crowded, but a word from latimer to the station-master resulted in our being ushered into an empty "first" which was ceremoniously locked behind us. it was not a "smoker," but with a fine disregard for such trifles latimer promptly produced his cigar case, and offered us each a delightful-looking upman. there are certainly some advantages in being on the side of the established order. soothed by the fragrant tobacco, and with an exquisite feeling of rest and freedom, i lay back in the corner and listened to latimer's pleasantly drawling voice, as he described to me how he had accomplished his morning's coup. it seems that, accompanied by tommy and his own man ellis, he had arrived at queenborough by the early train. instructions had already been wired through from london that the sheppey police were to put themselves entirely at his disposal; and having commandeered a car, the three of them, together with our friend the sergeant, set off to the bungalow. they pulled up some little distance away and waited for guthrie, latimer's other assistant, who had been keeping an eye on the place during the night. he reported that mcmurtrie and savaroff and von brünig had just put off in the launch, leaving the other two behind. "i guessed they had gone to pay you a visit," explained latimer drily, "and it seemed to me a favourable chance of doing a little calling on our own account." the net result of that little call had been the bloodless capture of hoffman and the other german spy, who had been surprised in the prosaic act of swallowing their breakfast. having been favoured by fortune so far, latimer had promptly proceeded to make the best use of his opportunity. it struck him that, whatever might be the result of their visit to me, the other members of the party were pretty sure to come back to the bungalow. the idea of hiding behind the curtain at once suggested itself to him. it was just possible that in this way he might pick up some valuable information before he was discovered, while in any case it would give him the advantage of taking them utterly by surprise. his first step had been to tie up the prisoners, and pack them off in the car to queenborough police station with guthrie and the sergeant as an escort. (i should have loved to have heard his conversation with hoffman while the former operation was in progress!) he then carefully removed all inside and outside traces of the raid on the bungalow, and picked out a couple of convenient hiding-places in the garden, where tommy and ellis could he in ambush until they were wanted. a shot from his revolver or the smashing of the french window was to be the signal for their united entrance on the scene. "well, you know the end of the story as well as i do," he finished, nicking off the ash of his cigar. "things could scarcely have turned out better, except for that unfortunate accident with mcmurtrie." he paused. "i wouldn't have shot him for the world," he added regretfully, "but he really left me no choice." "he would have been hanged anyway," put in tommy consolingly. latimer smiled. "i didn't mean to suggest that it was likely to keep me awake at night. i was only thinking that we might perhaps have got some useful information out of him." "it seems to me," i said gratefully, "that we did." through the interminable suburbs and slums of south-east london we steamed slowly into london bridge station and drew up at the platform. there was a taxi waiting almost opposite our carriage, and promptly securing the driver latimer instructed him to take us "as quickly as possible" to no. downing street. the man carried out his order with almost alarming literalness, but providence watched over us and we reached the foreign office without disaster. favoured with a respectful salute from the liveried porter on duty, latimer led the way into the hall. we followed him down a short narrow passage to another corridor, where he unlocked and opened a door on the left, ushering us into a small room comfortably fitted up as an office. "this is my own private den," he said; "so no one will disturb you. i will go and see if casement has come. if so, he is probably upstairs with lammersfield. i will give them my report, and then no doubt they will want to see you. you won't have to wait very long." he nodded pleasantly and left the room, closing the door after him. for all his quiet, almost lethargic manner, it was curious what an atmosphere of swiftness and decision he seemed to carry about with him. i turned to tommy. "where's joyce?" i asked. "she's at the flat," he announced. "she said she would wait there until she heard from us. i saw her last night, you know. i was having supper at hatchett's with latimer when she turned up with your letter. she'd come on from his rooms." "there are many women," i said softly, "but there is only one joyce." tommy chuckled. "that's what latimer thinks. after she left us--i was staying the night with him in jermyn street and we'd all three gone back there to talk it over--he said to me in that funny drawling way of his: 'you know, morrison, that girl will be wasted, even on lyndon. she ought to be in the secret service.'" i laughed. "i'm grateful to the secret service," i said, "but there are limits even to gratitude." for perhaps three-quarters of an hour we remained undisturbed, while latimer was presumably presenting his report to the authorities. every now and then we heard footsteps pass down the corridor, and on one occasion an electric bell went off with a sudden vicious energy that i should never have expected in a government office. the time passed quickly, for we had plenty to talk about; indeed, our only objection to waiting was the fact that we were both beginning to get infernally hungry, and it seemed likely to be some time yet before we should be able to get anything to eat. at last there came a discreet knock at the door, and an elderly clean-shaven person with the manners of a retired butler appeared noiselessly upon the threshold. he bowed slightly to us both. "lord lammersfield wishes to see you, gentlemen. if you will be good enough to follow me, i will conduct you to his presence." we followed him along the corridor and up a rather dingy staircase, when he tapped gently at a door immediately facing us. "come in," called out a voice, and with another slight inclination of his head our guide turned the handle and ushered us into the room. it was a solemn-looking sort of apartment furnished chiefly with bookcases, and having a general atmosphere of early victorian stuffiness. at a big table in the centre two men were sitting. one was latimer; the other i recognized immediately as lord lammersfield. i had never known him personally in the old days, but i had often seen him walking in the park, or run across him at such popular rest cures as kempton and sandown park. he had changed very little in the interval; his hair was perhaps a trifle greyer, otherwise he looked just the same debonair picturesque figure that the opposition caricaturists had loved to flesh their pencils on. he got up as we entered, regarding us both with a pleasant whimsical smile that put me entirely at my ease at once. "this is lyndon," said latimer, indicating me; "and this is morrison." lord lammersfield came round the table and shook hands cordially with us both. "sit down, gentlemen," he said, "sit down. if half of what mr. latimer has told me is true, you must be extremely tired." we all three laughed, and tommy promptly took advantage of the invitation to seat himself luxuriously in a big leather arm-chair. i remained standing. "to be quite truthful," i said, "it's been the most refreshing morning i can ever remember." lord lammersfield looked at me for a moment with the same smile on his lips. "yes," he said drily; "i suppose there is a certain stimulus in saving england before breakfast. most of my own work in that line is accomplished in the afternoon." then, with a sudden slight change in his manner, he took a step forward and again held out his hand. "mr. lyndon," he said, "as a member of the government, and one who is therefore more or less responsible for the law's asinine blunders, i am absolutely ashamed to look you in the face. i wonder if you add generosity to your other unusual gifts." for the second time we exchanged grips. "i have common gratitude at all events, lord lammersfield," i said. "i know that you have tried to help me while i was in prison, and--" he held up his other hand with a gesture of half-ironical protest. "ah!" he exclaimed, "i am afraid that any poor efforts of mine in that direction were due to the most flagrant compulsion." he paused. "whatever else you are unlucky in, mr. lyndon," he added smilingly, "you can at least be congratulated on your friends." then he turned to latimer. "i think it would be as well if i explained the position before casement and frinton arrive." latimer expressed his agreement, and motioning me to a chair, lord lammersfield again seated himself at the table. his manner, though still quite friendly and unstilted, had suddenly become serious. "for the moment, mr. lyndon," he said, "the prime minister is out of london. we have communicated with him, and we expect him back tonight. in his absence it falls to me to thank you most unreservedly both on behalf of the government and the nation for what you have done. it would be difficult to overrate its importance." i began to feel a trifle embarrassed. "i really don't want any thanks," i said. "i just drifted into it; and anyway one doesn't sell one's country, even if one is an escaped convict." lord lammersfield laughed drily. "there are many men," he said, "in your position who would have found it an extraordinarily attractive prospect. i am not at all sure i shouldn't have myself." he paused. "we can't give you those three years of your life back," he went on, "but fortunately we can make some sort of amends in other ways. i have no doubt that the moment the prime minister is fully acquainted with the circumstances he will arrange for what we humorously call a 'free pardon'; that is to say, the law will very graciously forgive you for having been unjustly sent to prison. as for the rest--" he shrugged his shoulders--"well, i don't imagine you will be precisely the loser for not having sold your secret to the wilhelmstrasse. our own war office are quite prepared to deal in any original methods of scattering death that happen to be on the market just at present." there was a brief pause. "and are we free now?" inquired tommy, with a rather pathetic glance at the clock. "you should be very shortly," returned lammersfield. "mr. casement has gone across to the home office to explain the latest developments to sir george frinton. we are expecting them both here at any moment." "sir george frinton?" i echoed. "why, i thought mr. mccurdy was at the home office." lammersfield smiled tolerantly: "you have been busy, mr. lyndon, and some of the more important facts of modern history have possibly escaped you. mccurdy resigned from the government nearly three months ago." "but sir george frinton!" i exclaimed. "why, i know the old boy; i have a standing invitation to go and look him up." and then, without waiting for any questions, i described to them in a few words how the home secretary and i had travelled together from exeter to london, and the favourable impression i had apparently made. both lammersfield and latimer were vastly amused--the former lying back in his chair and laughing softly to himself in undisguised merriment. "how perfectly delightful!" he observed. "poor old frinton has his merits, but--" the libel he was about to utter on his distinguished colleague was suddenly cut short by a knock at the door; and, in answer to his summons, the butler-looking person entered and announced that sir george frinton and mr. casement were waiting for an audience. "show them up at once," said his lordship gravely; and then turning to latimer as the man left the room he added, with a reflective smile: "i should never have believed that the foreign office could be so entertaining." chapter xxv a little family party the moment that sir george frinton reached the threshold, one could see that he was seriously perturbed. he entered the room in an energetic, fussy sort of manner, and came bustling across to lord lammersfield, who had risen from the table to meet him. he was followed by a grey-haired, middle-aged man, who strolled in quietly, looked across at latimer, and then threw a sharp penetrating glance at tommy and me. it was lammersfield who spoke first. "i was sorry to bother you, frinton," he said pleasantly, "but the matter has so much to do with your department i thought you ought to be present." sir george waved away the apology. "you were perfectly right, lord lammersfield--perfectly right. i should have come over in any case. it is an astounding story. i have been amazed--positively amazed--at mr. casement's revelations. can it be possible there is no mistake?" "absolutely none," answered latimer calmly. "our people have moved with the utmost discretion, and we have the entire evidence in our hands." he turned to casement. "you have acquainted sir george with the whole of this morning's events?" the quiet man nodded. "everything," he observed, in rather fatigued voice. "i understand," said the home secretary, "that this man lyndon is actually here." with a graceful gesture lord lammersfield indicated where i was standing. "let me introduce you to each other," he said. "mr. neil lyndon--sir george frinton." i bowed respectfully, and when i raised my head again i saw that the home secretary was contemplating me with a puzzled stare. "you--your face seems strangely familiar to me," he observed. "you evidently have a good memory, sir george," i replied. "i had the honour and pleasure of travelling up from exeter to london with you about a fortnight ago." a sudden light came into his face, and adjusting his spectacles he stared at me harder than ever. "god bless my soul!" he exclaimed. "of course, i remember now." he paused. "and do you mean to tell me that you--an escaped convict--were actually aware that you were travelling with the home secretary?" i saw no reason for dimming the glory of the incident. "you were kind enough to give me one of your cards," i reminded him. "why, yes, to be sure; so i did--so i did." again he paused and gazed at me with a sort of incredulous amazement. "you must have nerves of steel, sir. most men in such a situation would have been paralysed with terror." the idea of sir george paralysing anybody with terror struck me as so delightful that i almost burst out laughing, but by a great effort i just managed to restrain myself. "as an escaped convict," i said, "one becomes used to rather desperate situations." lammersfield, the corner of whose mouth was twitching suspiciously, broke into the conversation. "it was a remarkable coincidence," he said, "but you see how it confirms casement's story if any further confirmation were needed." sir george nodded. "yes, yes," he said. "i suppose there can be no doubt about it. the proofs of it all seem beyond question." he turned to me. "taking everything into consideration, mr. lyndon, you appear to have acted in a most creditable and patriotic manner. i understand that the moment you discovered the nature of the plot in which you were involved you placed yourself entirely at the disposal of the secret service. that is right, mr. latimer, is it not?" latimer stepped forward. "if mr. lyndon had chosen to do it, sir," he said, "he could have sold his invention to germany and escaped with the money. at that time he had no proof to offer that he had been wrongly convicted. rather than betray his country, however, he was prepared to return to prison and serve out his sentence." as an accurate description of my attitude in the matter it certainly left something to be desired, but it seemed to have a highly satisfactory effect upon sir george. he took a step towards me, and gravely and rather pompously shook me by the hand. "sir," he said, "permit me to congratulate you both on your conduct and on the dramatic establishment of your innocence. it will be my pleasant duty as home secretary to see that every possible reparation is made to you for the great injustice that you have suffered." lammersfield, who had gone back to his seat at the table, again interrupted. "you agree with me, don't you, frinton, that, pending any steps you and the prime minister choose to take in the matter, mr. lyndon may consider himself a free man?" sir george seemed a trifle embarrassed. "well--er--to a certain extent, most decidedly. i have informed scotland yard that he has voluntarily surrendered himself to the secret service, so there will be no further attempt to carry out the arrest. i--i presume that mr. casement and mr. latimer will be officially responsible for him?" the former gave a reassuring nod. "certainly, sir george," he observed. "i am entirely in your hands, sir," i put in. "there are one or two little things i wanted to do, but if you prefer that i should consider myself under arrest--" "no, no, mr. lyndon," he interrupted; "there is no necessity for that--no necessity at all. strictly speaking, of course, you are still a prisoner, but for the present it will perhaps be best to avoid any formal proceedings. i understand that both lord lammersfield and mr. casement consider it advisable to keep the whole matter as quiet as possible, at all events until the return of the prime minister. after that we must decide what steps it will be best to take." "i am very much obliged to you," i said. "there is one question i should like to ask if i may." he took off his spectacles and polished them with his pocket-handkerchief. "well?" he observed encouragingly. "i should like to know whether savaroff's daughter is in custody--the girl who gave the police their information about me." "ah!" he said, with some satisfaction, "that is a point on which you all appear to have been misled. i have just enlightened mr. casement in the matter. the information on which the police acted was not supplied by a girl." he paused. "it was given them by your cousin and late partner, mr. george marwood." "what!" i almost shouted; and i heard tommy indulge in a half-smothered exclamation which was not at all suited to our distinguished company. sir george, who was evidently pleased with our surprise, nodded his head. "mr. marwood rang up scotland yard at half-past ten last night. he told them he had received an anonymous letter giving two addresses, at one of which you would probably be found. he also gave a full description of the alterations in your appearance." i turned to latimer. "i suppose it was sonia," i said. "i never dreamed of her going to him, though." "it was very natural," he replied in that unconcerned drawl of his. "she knew that your cousin would do everything possible to get you under lock and key again, and at the same time she imagined she would avoid the risk of being arrested herself." "quite so, quite so," said sir george, nodding his head sagely. "from all i can gather she seems to be a most dangerous young woman. i shall make a particular point of seeing that she is arrested." his words came home to me with a sudden swift stab of pity and remorse. it was horrible to think of sonia in jail--sonia eating out her wild passionate heart in the hideous slavery i knew so well. the thought of all that she had risked and suffered for my sake crowded back into my mind with overwhelming force. i took a step forward. "sir george," i said, "a moment ago you were good enough to say that the government would try and make me some return for the injustice i have suffered." he looked at me in obvious surprise. "certainly," he said--"certainly. i am convinced that they will take the most generous view of the circumstances." "there is only one thing i ask," i said. "except for this girl, sonia savaroff, the germans would now be in possession of my invention. if the government feel that they owe me anything, they can cancel the debt altogether by allowing her to go free." sir george raised his eyeglass. "you ask this after she did her best to send you back to penal servitude?" i nodded. "i am not sure," i said, "that i didn't thoroughly deserve it." for a moment sir george stared at me in a puzzled sort of fashion. "very well," he said; "i think it might be arranged. as you say, she was of considerable assistance to us, even if it was unintentionally. that is a point in her favour--a distinct point." "how about our friend mr. marwood?" put in lammersfield pleasantly. "between perjury and selling government secrets i suppose we have enough evidence to justify his arrest?" "i think so," said sir george, nodding his head solemnly. "anyhow i have given instructions for it. in a case like this it is best to be on the safe side." my heart sank at his words. charming as it was to think of george in the affectionate clutch of a policeman, i could almost have wept at the idea of being robbed of my own little interview with him, to which i had been looking forward for so long. it was lammersfield who broke in on my disappointment. "i should imagine," he said considerately, "that you two, as well as latimer, must be half starving. i suppose you have had nothing to eat since breakfast." tommy rose to his feet with an alacrity that answered the question so far as he was concerned, and i acknowledged that a brief interval for refreshment would be by no means unwelcome. "well, i'm afraid i can't spare latimer just yet," he said, "but you two go off and have a good lunch. come back here again as soon as you've done. i will ring up the war office and the admiralty while you are away, and we will arrange for a couple of their men to meet us here, and then you can explain about your new explosive. i fancy you will find them quite an appreciative audience." he pressed a bell by his side, and getting up from the table, accompanied us to the door, where i stopped for a moment to try and express my thanks both to him and sir george. "my dear mr. lyndon," he interrupted courteously, "you have been in prison for three years for a crime that you didn't commit, and in return for that you have done england a service that it is almost impossible to overrate. under the circumstances even a cabinet minister may be excused a little common civility." as he spoke there came a knock at the door, and in answer to his summons the impassive butler person appeared on the threshold. "show these gentlemen out, simpson," he said, "and let me know directly they return." then, shaking my hand in a friendly fashion, he added with a quizzical smile, "if you should happen to come across any mutual acquaintance of ours, perhaps you will be kind enough to convey my unofficial congratulations. i hope before long to have the privilege of offering them personally." i promised to deliver his message, and, following our guide downstairs, we passed out into the street. "i like that chap," said tommy. "he's got no silly side about him. joyce always said he was a good sort." he stopped on the pavement, and with his usual serene disregard for the respectabilities proceeded to fill and light a huge briar pipe. "what's the programme now?" he inquired. "i'm just dying for some grub." "we'll get a taxi and run down to the flat and pick up joyce," i said. "then we'll come back to the café royal and have the best lunch that's ever been eaten in london." tommy indulged in one of his deep chuckles. "if anyone's expecting me in downing street before six o'clock," he observed, "i rather think he's backed a loser." it was not until we were in a taxi, and speeding rapidly past the house of commons, that i broached the painful subject of george. "i don't know what to do," i said. "if he's at his house, he has been arrested by now, and if he isn't the police will probably find him before i shall. it will break my heart if i don't get hold of him for five minutes." tommy grunted sympathetically. "it's just on the cards," he said, "that joyce might know where he is." faint as the chance seemed, it was sufficient to cheer me up a little, and for the rest of the drive we discussed the important question of what we should have for lunch. after a week of sardines and tinned tongue i found it a most inspiring topic. as we reached the chelsea embankment a happy idea presented itself to me. "i tell you what, tommy," i said. "we won't go and knock at joyce's flat. let's slip round at the back, as we did before, and take her by surprise." "right you are," he said. "she's probably left the studio door open. she generally does on a hot afternoon like this." the taxi drew up at florence court, and telling the driver to wait for us, we walked down the passage and turned into tommy's flat. there were several letters for him lying on the floor inside, and while he stopped to pick them up, i passed on through the studio and out into the little glass-covered corridor at the back. it was quite a short way along to joyce's studio, and from where i was i could see that her door was slightly ajar. i stepped quietly, so as not to make any noise, and i had covered perhaps half the distance, when suddenly i pulled up in my tracks as if i had been turned into stone. for a moment i stood there without moving or even breathing. a couple of yards away on the other side of the door i could hear two people talking. one of them was joyce; the other--the other--well, if i had been lying half-unconscious on my death-bed i think i should have recognized that voice! there was a sound behind me, and whipping noiselessly round i was just in time to signal to tommy that he must keep absolutely quiet. then with my heart beating like a drum i crept stealthily forward until i was within a few inches of the open door. i was shaking all over with a delight that i could hardly control. "... you quite understand." (i could hear every word george was saying as plainly as if i were in the room.) "i only have to ring up the police, and in half an hour he'll be back again in prison--back for the rest of his life. he won't escape a second time--you can be sure of that." "well?" the single word came clear and distinct, but it would be difficult to describe the scorn which joyce managed to pack into it. it had some effect on george. "you have just got to do what i want--that's all," he exclaimed angrily. "i leave england tonight, and unless you come with me i shall go straight from here and ring up scotland yard. you can make your choice now. you either come down to southampton with me this evening, or lyndon goes back to dartmoor tomorrow." "then you were lying when you said you were anxious to help him?" with a mighty effort george apparently regained some control over his tongue. "no, i wasn't, joyce," he said. "god knows i'm sorry for the poor devil--i always have been; but there's nothing in the world that matters to me now except you. i--i lost my temper when you said you wouldn't come. you didn't mean it, did you? lyndon can never be anything to you; he is dead to all of us. at the best he can only be a skulking convict hiding from the police in south america or somewhere. you come with me; you shall never be sorry for it. i've plenty of money, joyce; and i'll give you the best time a woman ever had." "and if i refuse?" asked joyce quietly. it was evident from the sound that george had taken a step towards her. "then lyndon will go back to dartmoor and stop there till he rots and dies." there was a short pause, and then very clearly and deliberately joyce gave her answer. "i think you are the foulest man in the world," she said. "it makes me sick to be in the same room with you." the gasp of fury and astonishment that broke from george's lips fell on my ears like music. he was so choking with rage that for a moment he could hardly speak. "damn you!" he stuttered at last. "so that's your real opinion, is it! that's what you've been thinking all along! trying to use me to help that precious convict lover of yours--eh?" i heard him come another step nearer. "i'll make you pay for this, anyhow," he snarled. "sick at being in the same room with me, are you? then by god i'll give you some reason--" with a swift jerk i flung open the door and stepped in over the threshold. "not this time, george dear," i said. if the devil himself had shot up through the floor in a crackle of blue flame, i don't think it could have had a more striking effect on my late partner. with his mouth open and his face the colour of freshly mixed putty, he stood perfectly still in the centre of the room, gazing at me like a man in a trance. for a second--a whole beautiful rich second--he remained in this engaging attitude; then, as if struck by an electric shock, he suddenly spun round with the obvious intention of making a dart for the door. the idea was distinctly a sound one, but it was too late to be of any practical value. directly he moved i stepped in, and catching him a smashing box on the ear with my right hand sent him sprawling full length on the carpet. joyce laughed gaily, while lounging across the room tommy set his back against the door and beamed cheerfully on the three of us. "quite a little family party," he observed. joyce was in my arms, and we were kissing each other in the most shameless and unabashed way. "oh, my dear," she said, "i hope you haven't hurt your hand." "it stung a bit," i admitted, "but i've got another one--and two feet." i put her gently aside. "get up, george," i said. he lay where he was, pretending to be unconscious. "if you don't get up at once, george," i said softly, "i shall kick you--hard." he scrambled to his feet, and then crouched back against the wall eyeing me like a trapped weasel. i indulged myself in a good heart-filling look at him. "so you've been sorry for me, george?" i said. "all these three long weary years that i've been rotting in dartmoor, you've been really and truly sorry for me?" he licked his lips and nodded. i laughed. "well, i'm sorry for _you_ now, george," i said--"damned sorry." if anything, the putty-like pallor of his face became still more ghastly. "don't do anything violent, neil," he whispered. "you'll only regret it. i swear to you--" "i shouldn't swear," i said. "you don't want to die with a lie on your lips." the sweat broke out on his forehead, and he glanced desperately round the room, as though seeking for some possible method of escape. the only comfort he got was a shake of the head from tommy. "you--you don't mean to murder me?" he gasped. i gave a fiendish laugh. "don't i!" i cried. "what's one murder more or less? i know you've put the police on to me, and i'd sooner be hanged than go back to dartmoor any day." tommy rubbed his hands together ghoulishly. "what are we going to do with him?" he asked. "cut his throat?" "no," i said. "it would make a mess, and we don't want to spoil joyce's carpet." "oh, it doesn't matter about the carpet," said joyce unselfishly. "i've got it," said tommy. "why not throw him in the river? the tide's up; i noticed it as we came along." whether he intended the suggestion seriously or not i don't know, but i rose to it like a trout to a fly. there are seldom more than two feet of water at high tide at that particular part of the embankment, and the thought of dropping george into its turbid embrace filled me with the utmost enthusiasm. "by jove, tommy!" i exclaimed. "that's a brilliant idea. the thames water's about the only thing he wouldn't defile." i stepped forward, and before george knew what was happening i had swung him round and clutched him by the collar and breeches. "open the door," i said, "and just see there's no one in the passage." with a deep chuckle tommy turned to obey, while joyce laughed with a viciousness that i should never have given her credit for. as for george--well, i suppose in his blind terror he really thought he was going to be drowned, for he kicked and struggled and raved till it was as much as i could do to hold him. "all clear!" sang out tommy from the hall. "stand by, then," i said, and taking a deep breath, i ran george through the flat down the passage, and out into the street, in a style that would have done credit to the chucker out at the empire. there were not many people about, and those that were there had no time to interfere even if they had wanted to do so. i just got a glimpse of the startled face of our taxi driver as he jumped aside to let us pass, and the next moment we had crossed the road and fetched up with a bang against the low embankment wall. i paused for a moment, renewed my grip on george's collar, and took a quick look round. tommy was beside me, and a few yards away, down at the bottom of some steps, i saw a number of small boys paddling in the water. there was evidently no risk of anybody being drowned. "i'll take his feet," said tommy, suiting the action to the word. "you get hold of his arms." there was a brief struggle, a loud scream for help, and the next moment george was swinging merrily between us. "one! two! three!" i cried. at the word "three" we let go simultaneously. he flew up into the air like a great wriggling crab, twisted round twice, and then went down into the muddy water with a splash that echoed all over the embankment. "very nice," said tommy critically. "but we ought to have put a stone round his neck." one glance over the wall showed me that there was no danger. dripping, floundering, and gasping for breath, george emerged from the surface like a frock-coated neptune rising from the waves. he seemed to be trying to speak, but the shrieks of innocent delight with which his reappearance was greeted by the paddling boys unfortunately prevented us from hearing him. i thrust my arm through tommy's. "come along," i said. "we must get out of this before there's a row." swift as we had been about it, our little operation had already attracted a certain amount of notice. people were hurrying up from all directions, but without paying any attention to them, we walked back towards the taxi, the driver of which had apparently been too astonished to move. "gor blimey, guv'nor," he ejaculated, "what sorter gime d'you call that?" "it's all right, driver," said tommy gravely. "we found him insulting this gentleman's sister." the driver, who evidently had a nice sense of chivalry, at once came round to our side. "was 'e?--the dirty 'ound!" he observed. "well, you done it on 'im proper. you ain't drowned 'im, 'ave ye, gents?" "oh no," i said. "he's addressing a few words to the crowd now." then seeing joyce standing in the doorway i hurried up the steps. "joyce dear," i said, "put on a hat and come as quick as you can. it's quite all right, but we want to get out of this before there's any bother." she nodded, and disappeared into the flat, while i strolled back to the taxi. it was evident from a movement among the spectators that george was making his way towards the steps. some of them who had come running up kept turning round and casting curious glances at us, but so far no one had attempted to interfere. it was not until joyce was just coming out of the flats, that a man detached himself from the crowd and started across the road. he was a big, fat, greasy person in a bowler hat. "here," he said. "you wait a bit. what d'ye mean by throwing that pore man in the river?" i opened the door of the taxi and joyce jumped in. "what's it got to do with you, darling?" asked tommy affably. "what's it got to do with me!" he repeated indignantly. "why, it's just the mercy o' gawd--" "come on, tommy," i said. tommy took a step forward, but the man clutched him by the arm. "no yer don't," he said, "not till ... ow!" with a sudden vigorous shove tommy sent him staggering back across the pavement, and the next moment we had both jumped into the taxi and banged the door. "right away," i called out. i think there was some momentary doubt amongst the other spectators whether they oughtn't to interfere, but before they could make up their minds our sympathetic driver had thrust in his clutch, and we were spinning away down the embankment. joyce, who was sitting next to me, slipped her hand into mine. "i love to see you both laughing," she said, "but i _should_ like to know what's happened! at present i feel as if i was acting in a cinematograph play." we told her--told her in quick, eager sentences of how the danger and mystery that had hung over us so for long had at last been scattered and destroyed. it was a broken, inadequate sort of narrative, jerked out as we bumped over crossings and pulled by behind buses, but i fancy from the light in her eyes and the pressure of her hand that joyce was quite contented. "it's--it's like waking up after some horrible dream," she said, "and suddenly finding that everything's all right. oh, i knew it would be in the end--i knew it the whole time--but i never dreamed it would happen all at once like this." "neither did george," chuckled tommy. "how long had he been with you, joyce?" "about twenty minutes," she said. "he came straight to me from harrod's, where he's spent most of the day buying stores for his yacht. he had quite made up his mind i was coming with him. i don't believe he's got the faintest idea about what's happened this morning." "he will have soon," i said. "that's why i threw him in the river. he's bound to go back to the house for a change of clothes, and he'll find the police waiting for him there." "that'll be just right," observed tommy complacently. "there's nothing so good as a little excitement to stop one from catching cold." "except lunch," i added, as the taxi rounded the corner of piccadilly and drew up outside the café royal. what the manager of that renowned restaurant must have thought of us, i find it rather difficult to guess. it is not often, i should imagine, that two untidy mud-stained men and a beautiful girl turn up at four o'clock in the afternoon and demand the best meal that london can provide. fortunately, however, he proved to be a gentleman of philosophy and resource. he accepted our request with perfect composure, and by the time we had succeeded in making ourselves passably respectable he presented us with a menu that deserved to be set to music. heavens, what a lunch that was! we ate it all by ourselves in the big empty restaurant, with half a dozen fascinated waiters eyeing us from the end of the room. they were probably speculating as to whether we were eccentric millionaires, or whether we had just escaped from some private lunatic asylum, but we were all far too cheerful to care what they thought. we ate, we drank, we laughed, we talked, with a reckless jubilant happiness that would have survived the scrutiny of all the waiters in london. "i know what we'll do, joyce," i said, when at last the dessert was cleared away and we were sitting in a delicate haze of cigar smoke. "as soon as things are fixed up i'll buy a good second-hand thirty-ton boat, and you and i and tommy will go off for a six months' cruise. we'll take mr. gow as skipper, and your little page-boy as steward, and we'll run down to the mediterranean and stop there till people are tired of gassing about us." "that will be beautiful," said joyce simply. "i'll come," exclaimed tommy, "unless the secret service refuse to give me up." then he stopped and looked mischievously across at joyce and me. "it's a pity we can't ask sonia too," he added. "poor sonia," said joyce. "i am so glad you got her off." "are you really?" asked tommy. "that shows i know nothing about women. i always thought that if two girls loved the same man they hated each other like poison." joyce nodded. "so they do as a rule." "well, sonia loved neil all right; you can take my word for it." joyce laughed softly. "yes, tommy dear," she said, "but then, you see, neil didn't love _her_--and that just makes all the difference." british secret service during the great war by nicholas everitt author of "round the world in strange company," etc., etc. not heaven itself upon the past has power; but what has been, has been, and i have had my hour. dryden. _third edition_ _london: hutchinson & co. paternoster row_ this book is dedicated to viscount northcliffe who during the throes of our national crisis proved himself the greatest of all living englishmen contents chapter i war and the introducing of jim page the prosperity of --an ominous calm--multitude of german spies--how england was undermined--shortsightedness of our liberal government--secret knowledge of prominent men--sir edward goschen's historical despatch--rush to the colours--our unpreparedness--introducing jim--patriots from afar--f. c. selous' roughriders--initiation into the foreign secret service--advisory testamentary dispositions chapter ii secret service organisations, comparisons and incidentals espionage in past ages--modern british secret service founded, --possible improvements--comparisons--jealousies of big departments--examples of reckless extravagance--business men wanted--economies in the secret service--bungling incompetence--impassiveness of the foreign office--german war methods--french and dutch secret service--military intelligence, b.c.--rise and development of german secret service--the efficiency of scotland yard--details of german foreign propaganda and expenditure--british secret service: its cost and frugalities--major henri le caron--nathan hale--similitude of the life of a secret service agent chapter iii initiation to active work crossing the north sea--a memorable meeting--instructions--on a cargo boat--snow-storms--false alarm--danish profiteers--english consul profiteering in food to germany--horse-smuggling--meeting my c.o.--blooded chapter iv inter-communicating with temporary codes and incidents grammatical code--a tÊte-À-tÊte--confidences--misconstrued message leads to domestic tragedy--local codes--an altered message--an important mission--shadowed--attempted thefts of papers--a contretemps--leakage of news from england--watching a suspect--false message discloses an open code--geometrical codes--the knot code--a fascinating actress, a confiding attachÉ, and a mysterious chess problem--cleverness of french secret service chapter v locating german mine-layers coast-hunting--a find--spies of many nations--obliterating trails--tracking down the "berlin"--marvellous navigation by germans--interned--german arson--an impudent invitation--a russian sugar-queen's yacht--queer company--sapping hun intelligence--playing on weaknesses--success--loss of h.m.s. "audacious"--soliloquising chapter vi deposing a rival retreat and would-be rest--wintry weather in the north sea--the secret message--rival's removal commanded forthwith--seemingly impossible proposition--seeking one's colleagues--solving the riddle--preparing the trap--the lonely sentry and the mysterious boatman--capture, arrest, search and find--the incriminating document--instant deportation--exultation--next, please chapter vii fighting german agents with faked weapons danger warning--disguised teutons--hair-tests--observation from without--clever female guard--deported hun agents--too many wrecks--boot change trick--flight--patience unrewarded--night work at the docks--a sudden attack--odds of three to one--pipe-faking for make-believe revolver--a stern chase--american ruse baffles pursuers--the sanctuary of conviviality chapter viii escaping from the clutches of a very clever lady disguises--importance of hands--service on a baltic trader--"idle, dirty, good-for-nothing scamp"--a tender-hearted lady--a fashionable gathering--the english dude--their second meeting--suspected--clever fencing--whales with iron skins--alliance offered--a woman scorned--meditation--flight chapter ix wild-fowling extraordinary and trawling for submarines in neutral waters germany's western coast--shooting wild-fowl and being shot at--an intrepid sportsman--collapsed zeppelin--escaping war prisoners--careless landsturmers--a supposed-to-be norwegian skipper--native curiosity--dare-devil christian--a mysterious ship--goose-stalking over a land mine--too near death to be pleasant--the nocturnal submarine raider--night trawling for strange fish--enemy's secret reconnoitring exposed and thwarted chapter x the mysterious harbour frontier prowling--startling rumours--terrible weather--evading sentries--mapping the works--refuge with smuggler--confidences on super-submarines and zeppelins--a country inn--preparing despatches--forcible intrusion--arrested for a german spy--search and interrogation--summary trial--tricking the searchers--committed for trial--escape chapter xi mad gambling and a big bribe kaleidoscope changes in secret service agent's life--called to norwegian capital for orders--enforced idleness--a war gambler--huge credits--twisting the tail of the british lion--averting possible war--frenzied finance--a colossal bribe--top-heavy argument--newspaper influence--a good bargain for england--millionaire in three days chapter xii shadowed by police posing as a journalist--credentials--subtle suggestions--suspicions--a fallen star--sold to the police--instinctive warnings--temptation--intercepted adulations--a serious blow--tests--danger signals--flight--herr schmidt--double tracking--arrest warrant postponed chapter xiii dodging frontier guards and searching for one's self frontier guards--smugglers--rigorous searches--unearthing valuable german secrets regarding super-zeppelins, submarines and the paris big cannon--a loquacious waiter--head-money for my capture-- , marks, dead or alive--looking for oneself--a capture--crossing the schleswig frontier--a friend in need--dangerous enterprise--kiel harbour--safe return chapter xiv avoiding cold murder swarms of bagmen--jesuitical methods--mysterious disappearances--unaccountable accidents--avoiding a duel--fascinated by a hungarian--a ludicrous traveller--fracas at a theatre--insult, assault and challenge--choosing weapons--difficulties overcome--fixing details--early travelling--dÉnouement--"am tag" chapter xv escaping from a submarine a ship of ill-omen--attacked--hell let loose--panic--fight for the boats--cowardly conduct--powerless to act--shrapnel at sea--surrender--taking charge of ship and carrying on--value of smoke boxes--terrible anticipations--land at last--reminiscences untold chapter xvi the casement affair grave imputations--norwegian characteristics--casement's letter to sir edward grey--irish interests--surreptitious visits to the embassy--envoyÉ extraordinaire--£ , for casement's servant--casement's explanations, comments, kidnapping and murder allegations--sir f. e. smith on casement's life and actions--a bad mistake chapter xvii pertaining to mystery ships "you british will always be fools and we germans shall never be gentlemen"--silhouette lifeboat for gun-covering--a secret of the war explained and illustrated--more ideasfor mystery ships described--secret thanks--successful results from camouflage at sea--the gratitude of the admiralty chapter xviii the sinking of the "lusitania" by german treachery how the dastardly deed was planned--commemoration medal prematurely dated--sinking announced in berlin before the vessel was attacked--german joy at the outrage--british secret code stolen--violations of american neutrality--false messages--authority for the facts chapter xix ministerial, diplomatic, and consular failings ministers selected by influence, not merit--german embassies headquarters of espionage--how english embassies hampered secret service work--bernhardi on the blockade--england's open doors--a minister's failings--british vice-consul's scandalous remuneration--alien consuls--how italy was brought into the war--how the sympathies of turkey and greece were lost--the failure of sir edward grey--asquith's procrastination chapter xx the sham blockade secret service protest against the open door to germany--activity of our naval arm nullified--lord northcliffe's patriotism--blockade bunkum--position of denmark--huge consignments for germany--the declaration fiasco--british minister's gullibility in copenhagen--german bank guaranteeing the british against goods going to germany--british navy paralysed by diplomatic and political folly--statistics extraordinary--flouting the declaration of london--sir edward grey's dilatoriness and puerile apologia--lord haldane pushed out--lord fisher's efficiency unrecognised--lord devonport's amazing figures on german imports--further startling statistics--british the greatest muddlers on earth--noble service by australian premier, w. h. hughes--hollow sham of the danish agreement and the netherlands overseas trust--blockade minister, lord robert cecil, and his feeble, futile efforts--more statistics--the triumvirate--asquith the unready, sir edward grey the irresolute, and lord haldane the friend of the kaiser--david lloyd george the saviour of the situation--how he proved himself a man--a neglected opportunity l'envoi foreword there is something so mysterious and thrilling about secret service that the subject must inevitably appeal to the public, and especially to the more imaginative section of it. secret service is the theme of mr. nicholas everitt's book, in which he describes the exciting adventures that he met with whilst in quest of information of use to his country during the great war. in carrying out his task he proved himself to be a keen observer and a man of resource. his experience gives point to the old saying that a man's ability is shewn less in never getting into a scrape, for _humanum est errare_, than in knowing how to get out of one! there is perhaps no vocation in which it is easier to get into a tight corner and more difficult to get out again than in the secret service, where the sword of damocles often hangs over one's head. besides giving an account of his adventures, mr. everitt devotes no small part of his work to criticism of the foreign office and its overseas branches--the diplomatic and consular services. he draws attention to what he conceives to be their defects and suggests how they might be remedied. while not concurring with everything said by the author in regard to politics and politicians, i am sufficiently in agreement with the main features of his book to recommend it to the british public, because i believe that publicity is the most potent instrument of reform. northcliffe. _february, ._ introduction this book is not published with the sole idea of increment to its builder; it presumes to venture beyond. when old machinery is continued in use year after year with no thought for wear and tear, no effort to repair defective parts, and no attempt to modernise or keep pace with the times, a smash usually follows. the british consular service is a concrete example of such short-sighted folly. it is so glaringly defective in its all-british efficiency that a thorough and complete overhaul, with drastic reforms, should be put in hand without further delay. the british diplomatic service is little better. its highest positions are filled by men appointed (in many instances) by influence and not by merit. the exaggerated dignity, arrogance, and egotistical self-importance of some ministers abroad is such that the mere mention of trade sets their teeth on edge, the name of money is too vulgar for their personal contemplation; while if any matter arises in which their authority or actions are questioned they tender their resignations like sulky, petulant children spoilt beyond measure by misguided parents. attached to each chancellery abroad should be a business or commercial expert, paid a fair and reasonable salary, who should make a study of british trade interests and who should control the whole consular service in the country to which he is attached. he should make it his special business to see that every consul is a born englishman and that each is paid a salary commensurate with his position and duties. secret service (if it is to be continued) should be a fully authorised and recognised department having a real business minister at its head with absolute control of its organisation, work, and finances. service men would naturally be appointed for each separate service department, whilst civilians should be utilised in useful spheres. such a reorganisation would do much to stop the friction which arises when military, naval, air-service, and other interests overlap, clash, or are required to work in double harness. the pitiable jealousies with which whitehall is saturated have to be seen to be believed. among the rank and file this canker-worm has no existence. the affection of one arm of the service for another is overwhelming, but the higher one investigates upward in rank and officialdom, the more deep-seated are the roots of the pernicious evil found to be. at home our politicians have ever been much too interfering. our government has for all too long been overridden by a multitude of lawyers who have pushed aside the more efficient business man, while they interfere with, and attempt to control, colossal matters which they do not and could not properly be expected to understand, and which ought to have been left entirely to experts whose lives had been devoted to the attainment of efficiency therein. that the navy should have been deliberately prevented from making our so-called blockade really effective throughout the war is as unjustifiable as it has been exasperating to the british public, whilst it has been detrimental to the interests of the empire. more than half the nation believe that had this matter been treated with a firm, courageous hand, the war would have been over in eighteen months at least. almost the entire nation believed that the war would continue to drag its disastrous weary course until the blockade was made really effective. part of this book is devoted to this most important issue. the public of the whole world believe we have a thoroughly active and efficient home secret service organisation, working as a separate independent unit. that is just what we ought to have had and for which there has ever been an urgent want. this omission is a defect in our armour which has been directly responsible for the undoubted loss of valuable lives and the destruction of vast property. much too much is left in the hands of the police. it is true our british police force is the best, the most efficient, and the least corrupt in the whole world. but it is not fair to place upon it more than it can properly attend to; whilst in any event its powers should be enlarged and a more elastic discretion extended. in comparison with the police of other nations, words quite fail the author with which to express his admiration for our noble and exemplary police administration. yet its work could be made more effective if we had a separate and properly organised home secret service branch, working conjointly with the police, which could at a moment's notice send down its agents, drawn from any station in society, with full powers to act and to commandeer all and every assistance that occasion might require. take a simple example in order that the matter may be the better understood. it is admitted that for many years our east coast had been overrun with spies. there are places where two or more counties meet. a member of the police force for one county has no power, authority, or discretion enabling him to enter into and to act in another. thus he cannot follow a suspect over the county border. in a certain female, whose cleverness was only equalled by her personal charms and powers of fascination, started a tour of our great camps along the eastern seaboard. her movements were reported by non-authorised observers. such a case was obviously one requiring delicate investigation. owing to lack of the necessary department under notice, the case automatically devolved into the hands of the police. our lady fair is watched and followed. it matters not to her; she can gaily slip over the county-border by automobile. long reports have to be made out and passed through slow and devious channels before the police in the next county can act. by the time this becomes operative, the elusive one has returned to the county she left, or she has entered another one--an evolution which could happen several times in a very short period and much mischief be done under the nose of authorities absolutely powerless to act--until too late. it is not difficult to imagine how a home secret service agent, with a private motor-car, would handle such a case; more particularly when working in conjunction and perfect harmony with the police generally. take another case. on april th, , the author wrote to whitehall as follows: "in a certain naval base of considerable importance on the east coast in the autumn of , a complete plant of wireless installation was discovered in the private house of an english merchant who was known to have business connections abroad, which plant was forthwith removed. some months after, a second visit was paid to the same premises and further parts of wireless telegraphy were found and taken away, and an assurance was given that everything in any way connected with wireless had been handed over. in the month of march, , the premises were once more visited and another complete plant was found to have been installed, which was immediately removed. in april, , a fourth surprise visit was made upon the same premises, when a very ingenious and complete portable wireless plant was discovered. my information records that the latter of these respective plants controlled a radius of only about twenty miles, that they were in perfect order and that they had been repeatedly used. the man and the occupiers of this house are said to be still at large! these facts have given me much food for reflection. "yours, etc." the powers-that-be took a _whole week to consider_ this report, the result of private enterprise; then they suggested a meeting with the author at any convenient time, for which they added there need be _no hurry whatsoever_. meanwhile on monday, april th, , the manipulator of these terribly dangerous and unlawful instruments arrived at another naval base--lowestoft--_on the eve of its bombardment_ by the german fleet, _actually staying at the royal hotel, which overlooks the whole sea-front_ and which was occupied by most of the officers in command of the base. private agitation alone seemed to account for this gentleman's eventual removal from the east coast; but it took an unpardonably long time in its successful accomplishment. another ridiculous muddle, which was undoubtedly dangerous to the welfare of the nation, was the petrol fiasco. such people as rag-and-bone merchants of possible alien extraction were permitted petrol in such quantities that they could dispose of it at good profit, whereas the police, even those in control of big and important areas, with enormous added responsibilities piled upon their too willing shoulders, were actually cut down to unworkable limits (one tin per week, equal to about forty miles)--not enough to cover a journey of consequence. furthermore the author was informed by the head of our then secret service that "he himself was quite unable to move in the matter." his supply appeared to have been insanely limited. no one ever doubted but that we should successfully pull through the war, or that our heroic, unconquerable and magnificent active service man would prove victorious in spite of all the mistakes, the clogs on the wheels, and the disastrous blundering of interfering politicians--those grand old muddlers who so persistently blocked their ears to the motto, "it is never too late to mend," and who so obstinately declined to "get a move on" until positively spurred into seemingly reluctant action by the patriotic northcliffe press voicing the fierce indignation of the long suffering british nation. i venture to predict that lord northcliffe will go down in history as the one man amongst men who has done most towards the winning of the war and the safeguarding of the future welfare of our beloved british empire. regarding the chapters in this book which recount actual experiences of secret service work, i can assure my readers that nothing has been divulged which touches even the fringe of the important secrets that every secret service agent would proudly guard with his life. those things are sacred and would never be intentionally divulged. on the other hand the records of adventure are not mere efforts at fiction. they are actual experiences, faintly tinted, maybe, in _couleur de rose_ to raise bald facts into readable narrative. they are also scenes which are enacted every day on the stage of life's theatre, often much nearer to the circle in which the reader moves than he or she may realise, imagine, or dream about. they are given in order the better to excite interest, to exemplify the work which has to be done, and which in the future may still require attention. needless to add that a book of this description has not been permitted to go to press without difficulties. much more has been left unsaid than is said. much has of necessity been omitted, not only for the sake of the maintenance of the glory of one's own beloved land, but also for the sake of the personal future safety and well-being of others besides oneself. some of the readers of the ms., through whose hands it had to pass before publication, have commented upon the political amalgam which has been introduced into the book as not being strictly within the scope of its title. if any apology is due under this head the author can only plead justification by reason of his deep and earnest desire for reform both abroad and at home. in his humble opinion the evils that he exposes or hints at could not have been brought home to his readers had he confined himself entirely to the perhaps more interesting narrative of individual adventure. so far as the statistics given regarding the blockade leakages are concerned, he feels they are important enough to carry historical interest, and should therefore be collated and put on permanent record. secret service agents devoted much time and attention to these details, and our then government was or should have been fully alive to the fact that the so-called blockade was only a ridiculous sham, long before the _daily mail_ campaign opened. why our government made no effort to checkmate, stop, or divert these extraordinary supplies going direct into the enemy country, is left to the judgment of my readers. twice, between christmas , and midsummer , i entered german territory from denmark and from the sea. after my second visit i was warned that a head-hunter was looking diligently for me in the hope of securing a reward which the germans had secretly offered. this enterprising individual i sought out, and for a day and a half helped him with another in the hunt for myself, arguing in my own mind that it was my safest occupation at that particular time and in that particular locality. during this short partnership a quarrel ensued regarding the division of the spoils before they were secured, when i learned that the sum at first offered had been , marks but it had then recently been increased to , . some compensation remains to me in being able to look back at this attention on the part of the hun as a compliment of some value to my personal activities. in the spring of , during our military operations in belgium, a deep and crafty alsatian of violent disposition, and of german descent, was captured by our tommies, and to save his own skin admitted he had been employed in the german foreign secret service since the outbreak of war. much valuable information was thus obtained; by way of test evidence he stated that _inter alia_ he had been ordered to endeavour to hold my trail (i was known to him) during my baltic wanderings in the late autumn of ; and that although he had persisted in various disguises he had been led a terrible dance and had been compelled to abandon the task as hopeless. i was able to corroborate this. anyone who has lived a strenuous life of many ups and downs must at times have rubbed shoulders with celebrities. in later years these personal reminiscences invariably provide reflections of more than passing interest. the author has, from his teens upwards, been swayed with an insatiable lust for travelling in foreign lands. during these peregrinations his experiences have been somewhat unique, his adventures many. an instinctive inquisitiveness has more than once caused his arrest for trespassing in private places of national importance; whilst cosmopolitan habits, imbibed from bohemian associations, may have tended to mould a character adapted for the special work now under consideration. owing to a fortunate, or unfortunate, lapse of good manners he was on one occasion--a good many years ago--given ample opportunity to survey at close quarters the kaiser, his empress the kaiserin, little willie, and the then entire german royal family, from the confines of a guard-room in the grounds of their imperial schloss at potsdam. the same year lord roberts, with general wood of the u.s.a. army, personally escorted him round the most interesting sights of dresden. the very next day he was arrested in bohemia for want of a passport. in he accompanied dr. leyds, then head of the south african secret service, when he was on his way to berlin to interview the kaiser on a mission of most serious menace to great britain on behalf of his master oom paul kruger; although the author was unaware at the time of the importance of that mission. cecil rhodes he knew as a visitor to his father's house. dr. jamieson he has sported with; dr. fridjof nansen is no stranger to him; whilst he crossed the north sea when the submarine season was in full swing with ronald amundsen, that most interesting discoverer of the south pole. he was within a stone's-throw of dr. sun yat sen, in the province of kiang so, when the northern chinese army of yuan shi kai surrounded and so nearly captured him during the rebellion of , on the eve of his escape to japan. under the great wall of china on the southern limits of the gobi desert he was within an ace of being captured by the notorious renegade "white wolf"; whilst part of the band of another equally celebrated bandit, raisuli, gave him cold shudders down the spine in , despite the scorching heats of the sahara. he has been an unwilling listener to treason from the lips of one or other of the much-wanted hardyal or gardit singh, who, on the western foothills of the rocky mountains prophesied that germany would declare war in the autumn of ; whilst in direct contrast to these unenviable experiences he has been the recipient of hospitality and of sport as the guest of royalty; although the enforced formalities attendant upon such experiences tend to destroy the charm which may be believed to surround the honour. variety has been provided by being brought in contact with nihilists in russia and siberia; with anarchists in france and spain; as a trembling defendant in a stump-head court-martial by backwoodsmen in western america, where justice is administered with lightning-like rapidity, and fatal mistakes often result through misidentification, as was so nearly the case in his own particularly uncomfortable experience as the unlucky chief actor in a "hold up" on the trail in british columbia; and more than once he has been lost in the untrodden wilds of vast forests. but these experiences of the ups and downs of life pale and sink into insignificance when compared with the vortex of the rapid, rushing, kaleidoscopic changes, the hair-breadth escapes, the blood-curdling thrills, the risks, the dangers and excitements, which at times are part and parcel of the life of a secret service agent. secret service, intelligence, reconnaissance, investigation strategical or military agent--use any name you will--the work of each merely resolves itself for the time being into "the antennæ, or the senses of fighting units"; the seeing, the hearing, the smelling, or the touching of a fleet or an army; of what is before, behind, surrounding, or in its midst. without its aid few battles could be won and no ultimate victory anticipated. military and naval officers endowed with sufficient intelligence, brains, and philological ability are, as a rule, very keen to devote some part of their career to foreign secret service. it is believed, with some certitude, to be the surest step to early promotion; to pave the way to future advancement. amongst those who have risen from such a foundation and who have proved their worth to the british empire may be mentioned the late lord kitchener, who in egypt, under various disguises, penetrated far into the interior. colonel burnaby, lord roberts, sir richard burton and hundreds of other distinguished and prominent men may be included in the category; whilst lt.-general sir r. baden-powell eulogises this branch of the service in a book entitled "my adventures as a spy." he writes: "it is an undisputable fact that our secret service has at all times been recruited from men of unblemished personal honour who would not descend to any act which in their view was tainted with meanness." no sane, thinking man would condemn secret service agents as following a dishonourable calling. if it were so, then it would be equally--if not more--dishonourable to employ, to guide, and to direct them. yet all commanders of all nations employ them and have done so from time immemorial; and if any nation failed to do so it might as well--as lord wolseley said--"sheath its sword for ever." to quote a few well-known names at random, catinat investigated in the disguise of a coalheaver; montlue as a cook; ashby visited the federal line in the american civil war as a horse-doctor; whilst general nathaniel lyon visited the confederate camp at st. louis in disguise before he attacked and captured it. in , george iii. granted a pension to the mother of major andré, who, whilst acting as aide-de-camp to general clinton, was condemned as an english secret service agent; he further gave a baronetcy to his brother; whilst the remains of the hero were exhumed, brought from america to england, and buried in westminster abbey. the japanese, one of the proudest nations in the world, whose code of honour is stricter even than our own, accord the highest honours to military or naval intelligence officers, whose bravery and understanding they fully recognise; although they never fail to shoot one whenever and wherever he may be caught acting against them. it is sometimes puzzling to understand what is the real motive which prompts our military and naval officers to seek so persistently to become enrolled in the secret service department. is it solely the desire to further their chances of advancement, or is it the bold adventuresome activity of the service, the innate longing to take all risks and to bring back personally the information so essential to the successful conduct of war; or is it the feeling and knowledge that only a brave man is ready to go out alone, unobserved and unapplauded, to risk his life for his country's sake? for let it not be forgotten that to accept an appointment under the foreign secret service in war time is no feather-bed occupation. the smallest slip, the slightest indiscretion, and one's doom is sealed. only a man to whom life was as nothing if risking it would help his country, would dare to undertake such perilous work. it is indeed the finest and most thrilling recuperative tonic in the world for anyone weary of life's monotonies. it commands the highest courage, the clearest understanding, the greatest ability and cleverness, never-flagging persistence, and an ever-prevailing optimism. yet such men and women as these who have striven, laboured, fought alone, and won through against inconceivable difficulties and immense odds, possibly to the permanent ruin of their health or financial status, are, although it seems inconceivable to believe, more often than not overlooked and passed aside by the nation; unobservantly pushed into the cold burial vaults of ungrateful forgetfulness!--the fate, alas! of many an active secret service agent, no matter how patriotically loyal, how brave, or how successful he may have been. such men neither seek nor expect to be bedecked with baubles, or awarded shekels, so coveted by those who stay at home. they know the hollowness which quickly fades or is lost in the vortex of political upheaval or changing dynasty. they rest content in the knowledge that they have well and truly served their country, that they have lived in the full realism of existence; whilst they are happy in their memories. one crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name. nicholas everitt. british secret service during the great war chapter i war and the introducing of jim the prosperity of --an ominous calm--multitude of german spies--how england was undermined--shortsightedness of our liberal government--secret knowledge of prominent men--sir edward goschen's historical despatch--rush to the colours--our unpreparedness--introducing jim--patriots from afar--f. c. selous' roughriders--initiation into the foreign secret service--advisory testamentary dispositions. the year opened auspiciously. future prospects looked brilliant. in the past there had been depression owing to political extravagances, but everything pointed to a change in the minds of the people; to an awakening, to future betterment. money was plentiful and cheap. labour was an active market with plenty of it. good business seemed to be in the air. all around there appeared to be a general cheerfulness. then came the lull before the storm. an ominous calm, a dull, dead, mysterious cloud of invisible, inexplicable, unintelligible danger threatened. no one could penetrate it; no one could fathom what it was; but everyone felt instinctively that something great and terrible was going to happen. the stock markets sagged and fell away in a most extraordinary fashion, no matter how the bulls or surrounding circumstances supported them. buyers of properties suddenly stayed their hands. speculators by natural impulse held aloof. rumours began to circulate, strange stories passed from mouth to mouth which none believed, but which left an impression of gloom and impending disaster behind them. the man in the street, the one and only true barometer of england's real feelings, showed an uneasy restlessness which could not be interpreted. the multitude of german spies, who swarmed like locusts throughout the british isles, assured themselves that the seditious seeds they had been sowing so energetically during the past years in the receptive and nourishing soil of radicalism and socialism, plenteously manured by liberal administrations from the vast financial resources at their disposal, were at last bearing a rich harvest of rare and refreshing fruit. they assured themselves that revolution would devastate ireland, perhaps part of england, wales, and scotland as well. the unions of the working classes they knew had been nurtured by their fond attentions until they had grown to mighty proportions. working men of german blood or of strong teutonic tendencies had agitated amongst the masses again and yet again, for "less time, more pay, and greater and more extended privileges." german secret service money had provided the sinews of an underground labour war. countless thousands of honest, hard-working british labourers neither knew of, nor recognised, nor even suspected, the traitorous hand which so gently stroked them down the back whilst their ears were being tickled with persuasive suggestions and argumentative reasoning, prompting a greater dissatisfaction the more they were pandered to, and petted, and spoilt, and bribed by the liberal government who were the men in power over them. it must not be forgotten that for some years previous to prominent members of the government of the day had been roundly rated in the press for encouraging and expressing pro-german sentiments and inclinations; whilst the government itself had been accused of shattering the constitution of the united kingdom, of muzzling the house of lords, of trampling on the rights of democracy, of humiliating the crown, and of robbing the church of england. whether there was truth in these accusations the historian will record, but that civil war was a seriously threatened danger there can be no doubt; whilst the proverbial slackness of our phlegmatic british nature is such that englishmen permitted much to transpire which no other nation in the world would have tolerated. mr. w. m. hughes, the australian prime minister, speaking in the london stock exchange on march th, , more eloquently describes us: "a people slow to anger, unsuspicious of guile in others, foolishly generous in throwing open their land to the world, offering sanctuary to all, even to those who proposed first to exploit and then betray them, before we as a nation awoke to the peril." it was only too well known to certain members of scotland yard, probably others as well, that german secret service agents had reported to their respective headquarters, that "the english radical government would never dare to intervene in a war waged by germany." they knew, or rather thought they knew, that england was utterly unprepared for a war of any magnitude; that for years military and naval estimates had been cut down rather than added to, which was substantiated by a collection of innumerable press cuttings showing the violent public agitation in consequence; that the government did not believe a great european war could be possible within the next fifty years; that the united kingdom was on the verge of revolution over ulster's dissent from home rule; that the labour unions had grown so vast, so all-embracing and so powerful that they could and would paralyse the government's action if by any possible chance it did decide on intervening; that egypt, india, and south africa were ripe for revolt and only too anxious for an opportunity to shake off british rule; that australia, new zealand, and canada were anxious to declare their respective independence; in fact that the whole british empire beyond the seas was itching for disintegration, if only "the day" would dawn giving half a chance of striking a blow for freedom and exemption from control of the hated british yoke; and that the welding together of all these (believed-to-be) irreconcilable nations and peoples in a common battle cause was an unthinkable impossibility. it was common knowledge to the secret service agents of all nations that the liberal-radical government of the united kingdom of great britain and ireland was tottering to a fall. its popularity with the masses had waned; its hypocrisy with the middle classes had become a byword; its disloyalty to the empire with the upper classes had become revolting; its days had become numbered. the german war party saw this and realised the fact better than the english. it knew that it was of vital importance to its world-power dream to make war only when a liberal, radical, and socialist party was in office in england; it would be courting disaster to do so if a unionist government were in power. yea, verily, the kaiser believed that the harvest of his sowing was ready for the garnering. all these things were reported in gloating glee by the army of teutonic spies in our midst to their respective headquarters, thence conveyed to their central office at berlin with an openness that might have seemed an insult to the intelligence of scotland yard and those who direct and control that very effective and efficient department; only our astute police service happened to be much more wide awake than it appeared to be. the man in power, the one and only being who really knew the truth of what was actually happening over and beyond the horizon of our ken, maintained an impassive silence. his motto throughout was and had been "wait and see." the ruler of the waves, the noble and illustrious british bull-dog, lord fisher, knew and had known. he had never failed his countrymen. he pushed along all and every preparation for the evil day, which a weak and peace-at-any-price government had permitted. the illustrious martial warrior of previous wars, whose life and loved ones had been sacrificed upon the altar of patriotism and loyalty, knew. he had never failed to lift his voice in warning, both inside and outside parliament, since he returned from the south african war, imploring support, reformation, and more attention to the army; pleading conscription amongst the youthful masses; working so unselfishly, so energetically and so devotedly, and in feverish anxiety for the protection and welfare of the motherland and our empire, right up to the day of his glorious death within sound of the german guns. a fitting dirge for so beloved and valiant a hero. the man of foreign affairs, the man who gained for himself the utmost honour, respect, esteem, and gratitude from all the world, by reason of his unflagging and unceasing efforts to keep and maintain the peace of europe, he also knew. to the very last hour, yea, even far beyond it, he worked on, hoping against hope that such a terrible calamity as threatened to paralyse the nations of the earth for centuries to come might yet be averted. noble man, working for a noble cause! history will record your efforts, but no pen can adequately record your meritorious deserts. oh! the pity of it that you, a true genius in the arts of peace and of peaceful diplomacies, did not retire at the outbreak of war in favour of some more martial, bellicose, and iron-fisted statesman, instead of clinging to office during the awful years that followed, when our enemy not only torpedoed all the laws of nations, but outraged every decent feeling of humanity. your honourable and gentlemanly nature made it impossible for you to realise, to understand, or to compete with these barbaric and inhuman practices. the man in opposition, whose duty it is to criticise and restrain the hotheadedness of governmental action, although he is not admitted to share the secrets of the cabinet, he knew. his instinct told him what was looming behind the electrically charged atmosphere, and he at once showed that he was a true-born britisher first and foremost before he was a politician. the man of marvellous organisation abilities, who had been more than once conveniently removed far afield from english politics in order to straighten out our tangled skeins in the east, because such efficient capables as himself, lord fisher, lord roberts and others did not suit the party system of our modern democratic government, also knew. but that man of action without words had to sit and look on, whilst the late friend of the kaiser was kept in office until the unmistakable voice of the people arose in ugly anger to demand the change. alas, that your precious life should have been sacrificed by treachery which ought to have been checkmated. the man of mystery, who, although not admitted as a member of the ship of state, clung limpet-like to its bottom and maintained an existence thereon, he knew; perhaps first of all. his knowledge was but a materialisation of reports foreshadowing such an event which had floated to him in crescendo numbers. his office was one of semi-independence. he could act with promptness and decision. he did, so far as he was permitted to go. war was in the air. this seemed to be conceived but not to be realised. the very idea was too terrible to be true. a portentous omen had been uttered by a great silesian nobleman, count von oppersdorff, only a few hours before it was publicly known that england would declare war against germany if the neutrality of belgium was violated. he had inquired from mr. f. w. wile, an anglo-american journalist in berlin, if such a contingency could be possible. on being answered in the affirmative, he muttered with great seriousness, "there will be many surprises." the real and concise reason which forced england to join in the war is recorded in the now famous despatch of sir edward goschen, the british ambassador at berlin, to sir edward grey, the british minister for foreign affairs. it runs as follows: august , : "i found the chancellor very agitated. his excellency at once began an harangue which lasted for twenty minutes. he said that the step taken by his majesty's government (the ultimatum of war) was terrible to a degree; just for a word--'neutrality,' a word which in war time had so often been disregarded--just for a _scrap of paper_ great britain was going to make war on a kindred nation. i said that, in the same way as he and herr von jagow (the german secretary of state) wished me to understand that for strategical reasons it was a matter of life and death to germany to advance through belgium and violate the latter's neutrality, so i would wish him to understand that it was, so to speak, a matter of 'life and death' for the honour of great britain that she should keep her solemn engagement to do her utmost to defend belgium's neutrality if attacked." it was on the th of august, , that the british nation was called to arms. it awoke, suddenly, startled as from some horrible nightmare. it was shaken and stirred in a manner unprecedented in its history from the day it had thrown off allegiance to rome. without hesitation or delay every patriotic britisher having no binding ties to hold him, in company with many tens of thousands who had, rushed to seek out recruiting officers or sergeants in order that their services might be proffered in the service of their country. so great and clamorous were the crowds in the big cities that the police had much ado to preserve and maintain order. the government was not prepared for anything like it. it had made no provision in equipment or supplies to cope with the stream of men so eager to join the colours. long before arrangements could be made to enrol the first batches of recruits, men from all parts of our empire beyond the seas began to arrive in the mother country, all keen, enthusiastic and eager for the fray. the authorities had their hands more than full and were compelled to refuse thousands, including in some instances, it is said, fully equipped companies of colonial recruits. yet posters and stimulating advertisements, appealing for volunteers, continued to be spread broadcast throughout the land, and, as the men rolled up in increasing numbers, confusion became worse confounded. many went to france in order to join up there; others returned to their homes disgusted and sick at heart by the manner in which they had been treated. was the government to blame for this? it had expressed blind faith in germany and the peaceful sentiments she was alleged to have expressed. had not lord haldane hobnobbed with the kaiser, and had he not related to parliament what a good fellow the german emperor really was, and how friendly he meant to be to england? labour members of parliament had been to germany, where they also had been hoodwinked and deceived. had not the cabinet argued so strenuously that a european war was unthinkable and impossible for the next century at least, until it seemed to believe it was actually true? _hence no preparations for such a disastrous calamity had been anticipated, thought out, or provided for._ "the day" had dawned. war with germany had been declared. every britisher, worthy of the name, was individually asking himself, in his heart of hearts or in public, how he best could be of service to his country, to the empire, and to his king. in the days to come, when children and children's children will seek by interrogation enlightenment from their forebears as to the part or parts they respectively took in the greatest war the world has ever known, what terrible shame and misgivings will assail the craven, palsied soul of the shirker! to england's everlasting glory such have been very, very few, and very far between. * * * * * i apologise for the necessity of having to introduce myself, because, as the author, i must also figure prominently in these pages. i am a bohemian by nature, a sportsman by instinct, and a lawyer by training. hail, fellow, well met! i believe in the old scotch proverb, "better a fremit freend than a freend fremit." acquaintances and correspondents i have endeavoured to cultivate in every country i have been in, whilst as a traveller, an author, and a sportsman i believe i am widely known. at the same time i must confess to being a man of moods, and like most other light-hearted, happy-go-lucky individuals, who seem to be bubbling over with an exuberance of animal spirits, there are times when depression holds down my soul in a hell of its own making. that i never understood myself may explain why so few really ever properly understand me. i am said to be resourceful, ingenious, and so optimistic that i extricate myself from difficulties under which many other people might have capitulated as too overwhelmingly crushing to attempt to resist. my great trouble has been that my restless, rolling-stone disposition makes it intensely distasteful and difficult for me to anchor down for any length of time in any one particular place. ever and anon there comes to me a call from the wild, a mysterious and irresistible whisper which a true son of nature cannot hope to fight against; an imperative summons from the vastnesses of unknown seas, from deep and pathless forests, from the virgin snows of mountain peaks. wanderlust has saturated my system, yea, to the very marrow in my bones. it has lured me on, and in obedience to periodical promptings i have travelled the world around and experienced adventure, sport, and fighting in many a foreign land. early in - i volunteered in the threatened irish upheavals, with countless thousands of others of my countrymen who felt so strongly the injustice of that matter. when a better and more meritorious chance of "scrapping" presented itself, i was one of the first to offer my services, which were promptly declined, solely because i was over the age limit. not satisfied with one effort, i made others in various quarters and in various capacities, but all in vain. it was no consolation to learn later that someone else, an expert engineer, had travelled , miles, from hyderabad in india,[ ] to help in munition-making, only to be refused a job on arrival in this country; nor that a tasmanian,[ ] with seventeen years' service in the department of agriculture in tasmania, carrying the highest credentials and having obtained six months' leave in order to travel , miles to the mother country to volunteer his gratuitous expert services to our board of agriculture, had likewise butted his head against vain hopes of helping to forward encouragement of more home-growing food for the nation. in the early stages there was a vast army of rejected would-be helpers turned down ignominiously and left to kick their heels in fretful idleness. what a wicked waste of time and good material! i begin to believe that my american associations have made me a bit of a hustler. anyway, i approached the celebrated shikar of many trails, the famed big game hunter, the late mr. f. c. selous.[ ] i wrote to him suggesting that a corps of big game hunters should be mustered, to consist only of men who had had at least three years' experience of that exciting and dangerous sport; that each man should provide and personally pay for the whole of his individual equipment, including horse, rifle, uniform, and appendages; that mr. selous should take command and then offer the services of the corps to the war office. mr. selous grasped the idea and agreed that a body of quite could probably be raised. he communicated his willingness to take the whole work of raising the troop, but the war office was neither encouraging to the proposal, nor willing to accept the services of such a body of men when ready to serve. sorrowful was the tone of the letter from mr. selous conveying this news to me, its very much disappointed recipient. he added in the p.s. that he had a friend in command of an infantry regiment who expected soon to be ordered to france, and he had extracted a promise from him to take him along in some capacity or another, in spite of the fact that he was over sixty years of age; and he advised me to look out for a similar loophole through which i might hope to crawl into the catacombs of yprès and the meuse, with or without the knowledge or sanction of the red tape artists at whitehall. about this period many amateur spy hunters were actively on the war-path, and it was suggested to me by friends of high standing in the sporting world that my connection with northern europe and my varied experience at home and abroad might be acceptable to the secret service; furthermore it was pretty plainly hinted to me that if i wrote a personal letter to sir edward grey it would not be ignored. not a moment was allowed to elapse after this. on october th, , i wrote, setting out my believed qualifications in concise terms, adding that my age had unfortunately precluded my eagerly proffered services from acceptance in other spheres; that i was keen and eager to be of service to my country; and that i was eating my heart out through inactivity. if there was a chance of my being any use, i prayed that my services might be commanded. i had been cautioned with impressive seriousness that if my services were accepted it might be only for enrolment in the "forlorn hope brigade" and that my chances of survival might be very remote indeed. rather than damping my ardour, this warning merely added fuel to the flames of my desires. in early life i had been most bitterly disappointed. a somewhat sensitive nature had received a shock from which it never properly recovered. with the fatuity of early youth i had placed a whole family upon an idealistic pedestal--including a mere child of thirteen years of age. when that theoristic fabric fell, shattered to a million invisible fragments, at my feet, i could not understand, but i felt for years afterwards that life for me held nothing of worth. time heals wounds, and i survived in bodily health. in i lost a man's best friend on earth--my mother. at christmas, , my father, my dearest pal, followed her to the grave. i was unmarried. my brother and my sisters had homes of their own, far away. what mattered it to anyone, least of all to myself, if i crossed the great divide before my allotted time? i was at best a mere worthless atom of humanity dependent upon no one, with no one dependent upon me. here at least was a chance of doing something worth the while. 'twas a far, far better thing to do than i had ever done. yea, indeed. i was ready, and willing, and eager, for the service, whatsoever that service might be, and withersoever it might take me, even to the jaws of death itself. having regard to all the circumstances, i do not believe i shall be accused of presumptuousness or of egotism if i say that i fully believed myself to be a fit and qualified person for the service for which i then had volunteered. on october th, , i received a letter from the under permanent secretary of state for foreign affairs (sir arthur nicholson--now lord carnock), acknowledging my letter of the previous day's date and saying sir edward grey appreciated my offer, although he regretted there were no such appointments at the disposal of his department; but he added that my name had been noted in case my services might be utilised in any capacity at some further date. on october th, i received a letter on war office paper referring to my letter to sir edward grey of the th, saying: "i should be very glad if you would arrange to come and see me here one morning. if you will let me know when i may expect you i shall arrange to be free." this letter was signed "p. w. kenny, captain"[ ] and on its left-hand top corner specified a certain room number. i subsequently ascertained that this gentleman (and a real gentleman in every sense of that embracive word i found him) was the "acting buffer" between the secret service departments for both the war office and the admiralty to anyone who might attempt to approach either of these departments. it will be remembered that his name figured in the public press as acting in that capacity when admiral w. r. hall, c.b., brilliantly defeated and frustrated the clever schemes so carefully yet vainly laid by the then notorious ex.-m.p. trebitsch lincoln, whose apparent intention and purpose was to work the double cross against the british empire. i promptly answered this communication by a special journey to london, of which i gave due notice as requested. after passing the police guards at the entrance to the war office, i traversed a long corridor to the inquiry room, where a number of attendants were busily engaged issuing forms to be filled up by applicants for interviews. of course it was impossible to escape the inevitable form, on which i inserted the name of captain p. w. kenny, his room number, my name, address, and the nature of my business--private and confidential. it was a bit of a staggerer to hear from the attendant that he did not know captain kenny, nor of him, nor did he believe there was any officer of that name in the building. inquiries, however, from others of his class elicited the information that someone had heard a name somewhat like it and if i went up to the floor on which the room was numbered as before-mentioned, and applied to the porter or commissionaire at the lodge up there, he might be able to locate him for me. after a wait of some minutes in an ante-room where were collecting a large number of officers and others on errands of various natures, i was sent away in charge of a boy-scout, with about ten other form-fillers, whom he dropped at various floor lodges on the way. the system was for each boy-scout to conduct a whole bunch of followers, who carried their forms in their hands until the desired floors were reached, when the boy-scout guide handed one or more of his followers to the commissionaire in charge of the lodge on each floor sought, who in turn sent them off again in charge of another attendant to the desired room. i was the last one to depart from our diminutive guide. but when i got to the lodge on the floor on which the room i was seeking was numbered, the commissionaire in charge said he knew nothing of the officer named on my form. after arguing the matter discreetly with him i persuaded him to take me to the room specified on my form, which we found unoccupied, although there were a table and chairs there, as i saw them through the half-open door. as the bona fides of my quest seemed to be doubted i produced the letter i had received, when he politely escorted me to two other lodges on the other floors; but only one of the men in charge could help me at all, and in that he was very vague. he believed there had been an officer, whose name he did not know, using the room so numbered or another room a day or so ago, and he was not certain which it was; he had since changed his room, but where he could not say. anyway, as he expressed himself, he was a mysterious kind of person, and what he did, or what functions he performed, no one seemed to know. i must confess i was at a loss to understand the position. suddenly, however, the thought struck me that it might be a possible stunt to test one's capabilities for a research or investigation; so i listened with interest to the conversations of the various commissionaires and gleaned that the gentleman i sought, if such an individual had any business in the war office at all, was tall, thin, and aristocratic. the one man who described him thought he knew whom i meant--"a horficer as spent his time a-dodging back'ards and forrards betwixt the war hoffice and the hadmiralty, who never said nothink to nobody, so one didn't know which he did belong to; one who 'ardly ever was in 'is room and one who 'ad some queer blokes come to see 'im." i thanked the commissionaires politely and said i would try another floor on my own account, as once inside the building with a form in one's hand it seemed one could wander anywhere at will and without question. accordingly i at once made up my mind what to do. i went to the floor below, to the lodge there, and i asked for lord kitchener. there was no hesitation in answering that inquiry; within a few minutes i had reached the desired portion of the building, where i asked to see his lordship's principal secretary. i have forgotten his name, but i was not kept waiting for a moment. i was accorded an opportunity to explain my mission. i showed him the letter i had summoning me to the war office, and told him the difficulties i had met with in attempting to locate the elusive "go-between." this officer received me very graciously; he smiled at the short description i gave him of my wanderings, and said: "i think i can put you on the right track straight away; please follow me," and getting up he took me to another room at the far end of the corridor we were then in, where we interviewed another officer who also laughed and told us that captain kenny had just changed his room and would now be found in room number ---- which was on the floor above. having thanked these officers for their kindly services i ascended once more, and within ten minutes from abandoning my false scent i ran my quarry to earth and was tapping on his oak. i explained the difficulty i had been placed in to captain kenny, who expressed some surprise. whether he really felt it or not i do not know, but when i showed him the room number given at the top of his letter he admitted the recent change and made apologetic amends for the inadvertence, adding that the attendants in charge of the inquiry bureau below should certainly have known both his name and room number. _quien sabe_, thought i to myself. anyway, i held my peace and we proceeded to business. for about an hour captain kenny questioned me regarding my knowledge of northern latitudes, their peoples and my linguistic capabilities. then he suggested in the most charming and persuasive manner that i should remain awhile in london, like wilkins micawber of old, "in the hope of something turning up." i did so. during this period i called at the war office at various appointed times and on each occasion was put to further interrogation. captain kenny rather reminded me of dr. leyds. he seemed to possess that same pleasing persuasiveness which made one feel that one was under deep obligation to him personally for being permitted to relieve him of the smallest matter in hand--indeed, a valuable asset to the person possessing such skill. within a week of my advent in london a letter came to me from captain kenny in which he wrote: "for the moment there are no vacancies in the intelligence service, but if you will exercise a little patience i really believe i shall be able to do something for you. i shall see that your name and special qualifications are kept well in view and i trust that we shall be able to make use of your exceptional abilities." this was followed about the day after by another short note from his private address, asking me to call at the war office next day, adding: "the delay arose through a temporary interruption of certain foreign communications, but he was almost sure he would be able to do something." i lost no time in answering this letter in person and within half an hour i was fixed for the foreign secret service under the admiralty in the north of europe. my remuneration, i was informed, would be rated on the scale appertaining to a naval captain in full commission; in addition to which i should be allowed £ per day to cover my personal expenses, with a further allowance up to £ per day to cover travelling expenses; but if i exceeded this amount i must bear the extra payments myself. i was delighted beyond measure: i would gladly have accepted any offer, on almost any terms, i was so keen to "do my bit" to help my country in whatever capacity i could be thought of any use. i subsequently found, however, that these allowances by no means covered one's travelling expenses abroad at that time, which daily mounted higher and higher until they assumed alarming dimensions. true it is, there were times, when one was obscuring oneself from too observant and inquiring persons, that one's expenses could be kept well below these amounts, but at other times, when speed in travelling was of vital importance, expenditure had to be a secondary consideration, and the average daily balances vanished beyond recognition. at this, last but one, interview with captain kenny he produced a large map of northern germany and the baltic. pointing with his finger to various parts of it he kept asking me whether i could and would go to the places indicated, which included the outskirts of kiel harbour. so in order to free his mind from any doubts he may have had as to my venturesomeness, i clinched matters by saying "if you assure me it will in any way benefit my country, i am ready and prepared to go to hell itself. so why waste breath on these pleasure resorts?" "ah!" replied this most exceedingly polite interviewer. "that, my dear sir, is the very answer i have been told, by a certain sporting nobleman who recommended you, i should receive if i pressed you on this. from what he said, and from what i have ascertained about you, i can quite believe it. how long do you require to put your affairs in order?" "i am ready to start at once," was the reply. i had come to london prepared for such an emergency. "good! on monday at a.m. call upon me again. i shall give you a sealed despatch to deliver at a time and place to be named, and enough money to enable you to reach a certain town. there you will meet a certain gentleman who will give you further instructions. you can now apply for a passport, and i wish you every luck." "excuse me, sir. but you do not give me any idea of what my duties will consist--to whom i am to report, or how? i really don't quite follow you; unless, of course, the despatch contains more enlightenment." "naturally the despatch will give full instructions to the gentleman you are to meet. he will seek you under the name of mr. jim. you will reply by mentioning two other names or words which you must now commit to memory, but not to paper. so far as your duties are concerned, _you have the fullest discretion; remember to use discretion_. you will work entirely on your own initiative. henceforth you will be known to the service as 'jim.' and in saying good-bye, i may as well add, if you have not already done so, it might be advisable to seriously consider such testamentary dispositions as you are minded to complete." footnotes: [ ] _john bull,_ january th, . [ ] _ibid._, february th, . [ ] this gentleman subsequently died a glorious death in the service of his country. he was shot when on active service in south africa. [ ] the author would not have felt at liberty to mention this gentleman by name except for the fact that his connection with the secret service was made public in the press on the trebitsch lincoln affair. chapter ii secret service organisations, comparisons, and incidentals espionage in past ages--modern british secret service founded, --possible improvements--comparisons--jealousies of big departments--examples of reckless extravagance--business men wanted--economies in the secret service--bungling incompetence--impassiveness of the foreign office--german war methods--french and dutch secret service--military intelligence, b.c.--rise and development of german secret service--the efficiency of scotland yard--details of german foreign propaganda and expenditure--british secret service, its cost and frugalities--major henri le caron--nathan hale--similitude of the life of a secret service agent. not until the reign of henry vii. and the days of the great cardinal wolsey do we hear speak of organised systems of secret service. cromwell encouraged the department, whilst charles ii. seems to have arranged grants for its continuance equivalent to £ , per annum. pitt was a firm supporter of the service, and canning is said to have paid £ , for the treaty of tilsit. in earlier times, british intelligence agents were attached to the chancelleries of our ministers abroad, as is the case to-day with nearly every nation, except our own. remuneration was given commensurate with the risks and service. but from the 'sixties the pay diminished and the department faded away from being an asset of much general valuable utility. the present british secret service department was founded about by an officer, a man of untiring energy, pluck, and perseverance, who has rendered noble service and willing sacrifice. since its initiation this department seems to have been harassed, attacked, and shot at by petty jealousies, which, during the agony of the crisis of war were ignoble and contemptible in the extreme. an observer behind the scenes can therefore admire the more the men who ignored this and worked on, unheeding all, with but a single thought, and that the welfare of their king and country. england never seems to have had any real organisation for secret service propaganda which can compare in thoroughness with the german effort. it has had no schools of instruction, nor does it send its members to specialise in any particular branch. it is an unwritten rule of the department that a naval or a military officer must be at the head of every branch or sub-division of any importance; and the service of civilians or of those from other professions than the navy and the army is neither sought nor welcomed, however capable or however clever the persons available may be. the exceptional civilian is soon made to feel this. whether the idea is to instil discipline, or to impress upon the newcomer the superiority and importance of the right to wear a uniform, it is difficult to imagine. the main work of the department, however, is on a par with the collection of evidence, the unravelling of secret mysteries, and the study and handling of character--which any man of the world would have probably at once concluded was more fitted to the controlling influence of experienced criminal and commercial investigators rather than to long-service officers who have been strapped to their stool by strict disciplinary red-tapeism from their teens upwards. admitted that officers must be at the top of the service to direct the information required, and to deal with it when obtained, nevertheless for the direction and control of ways and means of its attainment, the financial part, both inside and out, the selection of the executive staff, the tabulation of facts collected, and correspondence, a member of the government of some standing and with experience of this class of work should be commissioned as special minister in full control of the department; because its importance to the state cannot be overstated or exaggerated. not only should this department have, as near its chief as possible, a man who has had an extensive experience of active criminal and commercial affairs, but he should also, if possible, be one who has specially qualified himself in the commercial world as a _thoroughly efficient business man_. it may perhaps be added that it is by no means the only government department which has suffered acutely for want of an efficient business man on its directorate. so far as office work is concerned, a service officer may understand book routine and discipline, but when it comes to rock-bottom business this war has produced overwhelming proof that a service officer is lost against an efficient business man. speaking broadly, the former has no idea of the general value of things, or of the worldly side of the business world. how can it be expected of him? he is trained, specially trained, in his profession, which has naught to do with the struggle of the money-makers. he is not accustomed to rub shoulders with the man in the street, whilst there are thousands of minor details which he would probably ignore when brought to his notice, but which a business man would recognise as floating thistledown showing the direction of the wind. the business man knows that a knowledge of his fellow-man is the most valuable knowledge in the world. he is not saddled with fastidious, obsolete forms of etiquette, the waiting for the due observance of which has cost millions of pounds sterling and thousands of much more valuable lives. he is not tied down to the cut-and-dried book routine, probably unrevised for years, which it is an impossibility to keep thoroughly up-to-date. he is not afraid of the wrath of his immediate superior officers, which, unless being an officer himself he could modify or smooth it over, might put on the shelf for ever all chance of his future success in life. he is not shackled with incompetents whom he dared not report or remove because they hold indirect influences which might be moved to his disadvantage. he is not hampered by the importunities of brother-officers who are pushed at him continually by place-seekers, or by feared or favoured ones. he is not handicapped by the jealous spite of machination of other departments, because an efficient business man will have none of this from anyone, whether above or below him. should it arise, he eradicates it root and branch at first sight, which an ordinary service officer is generally utterly powerless to do; nor dare he dream of its accomplishment. it is the existence of this terrible canker-worm of jealousy, false pride, petty spite, or absurd etiquette, which in the past has gnawed into the very vitals of our glorious services, sapping away much of their efficiency and undermining future unity, which always tends to turn victories into defeats or colossal disasters. it is devoutly to be hoped that this world-war will level up the masses and kill and for ever crush out of our midst this hydra-headed microbe, the greatest danger of which is that on the surface it is invisible. members of the secret service knew all along that the war office and the admiralty were like oil and water, because they would not or could not mix.[ ] if one required anything of importance from the war office it might have blighted the hopes of success to have blurted out that one came from, or was a member of, the admiralty, and _vice versâ_. these two mighty departments never seemed to work in harmonious unity. hence, whenever jim had business at the war office he advisedly concealed that he had any interest in the admiralty; and whenever he was at the admiralty he denied all connection with the war office. it saved so much friction and avoided so much unnecessary formality, trouble, and delay. that this friction was bad for the country, detrimental to the shortening of the war, and most expensive to the taxpayer, goes without saying; but perhaps the fault lay with our system, which permits so many men over sixty years of age to remain in, or to be suddenly placed into positions of such terrible responsibility and such colossal and continual accumulation of work; men who hitherto had had a slack time and who perhaps had hardly ever been contradicted or denied in their lives; men who constantly demonstrated to those around them that their dignity and self-importance must be admitted and put before almost every other consideration; men who ought to have taken honorary positions and not for a single hour kept from the chair of office more efficient and younger officers; men who knew only the old routine, who were long past their prime, and who were consistent upholders of the greatest curse that ever cursed our island kingdom--the red-tapeism of the circumlocution office. volumes could be filled with examples of the pernicious results arising because this country has not adopted modern and up-to-date methods. volumes could be written to prove the reckless waste and extravagance that has been allowed to run wild and caused by our not providing for a department having a minister of conservation and economy. volumes could be written to prove that if jealousies could be stamped out, false dignity crushed, and red-tapeism abolished, our nation would rise far above the heads of all other nations in the world, and our taxpayers' burdens, both now and in the future, would be materially reduced. although thousands of examples could be given it is submitted that for a book of this description an example from two or three departments should be sufficient to illustrate the argument. from the admiralty. some time in the autumn of , two fields were acquired by the admiralty at bacton, on the norfolk coast, for use as an aviation ground. in order to give a sufficiently large unbroken and even surface for aeroplanes, it was deemed necessary to level a hedge-bank of considerable length, dividing the fields in question. within a few miles of these fields were stationed a thousand soldiers, who were chafing at and weary with the monotony of their daily routine, an unvaried one for over a year. the majority of these men would have welcomed the acceptance of such a task as this. but follow the events which happened, and it is proved convincingly that some silly, ridiculous reason prevented any approach, by those who sit in chairs at the admiralty to those who sit in chairs at the war office, to utilise this unemployed labour, or to save the nation's pocket in so simple a matter. the expenditure of money seemed to be of no consideration whatsoever, although the house of commons was at this particular period shrieking for economy in others, which they were quite unwilling to commence themselves; whilst the prime minister (mr. asquith) addressed a great economy speech to the massed delegates representing , , organised workers at westminster on december st, . so a contract was offered and entered into with a civilian to do the work. owing to lord derby's scare-scheme system of recruiting instead of national service (which ought to have been enforced immediately after the boer war, as pressed by lord roberts and others), the unlucky contractor lost most of his young men and was quite unable to get more than a very few old men who were past the age of strenuous labour. his job progressed so slowly that the admiralty realised the work might not be finished for months and months to come if permitted to continue on the then present line. what was it that prevented the admiralty, on this second occasion of necessity, from approaching the war office, or even one of the officers in command of the thousands and thousands of troops stationed in norfolk, a few of whom could and would gladly have completed the work in a few hours without a penny extra expense to the country? instead of incurring any possible suspicion of an obligation from the war office, an appeal was made to the newly-formed city of norwich volunteers for their men to put down their names for this work. that loyal, energetic, and patriotic body of englishmen, which was drawn from all ranks of society, although working at their various vocations all the week, immediately acquiesced, without stopping to reason why, and agreed to go to bacton the next ensuing sunday. the distance from norwich to bacton is twenty miles, but the nearest station is about three miles from the fields in question. by reason of the war office having taken over control of the railways, these men could, by a simple request from the admiralty to the war office, have been provided with free travelling passes. they had expressed their willingness to walk the remaining three miles of the journey, do the work gratuitously (although quite unaccustomed to any such rough manual labour), find their own rations, and walk the return three miles to the station afterwards. such, however, was not acceptable, nor permitted. at north walsham, five miles from the aerodrome site, at least a thousand troops were stationed. they were provided with motor vehicles capable of travelling thirty miles per hour. a few of these vehicles could have carried the whole party from north walsham station to the fields in under half an hour; or they could have fetched them from norwich in about an hour. but no; such an arrangement might incur the obligation of a request and a compliance. _so the admiralty arranged to send some of their own motor lorries from portsmouth to norwich in order to convey this small party of civilian volunteer-workers twenty-one miles to the job_. it was said that five lorries were ordered, but only three were sent. they were of the large size, extra heavy type, which cannot, with general convenience, travel at a speed beyond ten miles an hour--if so fast; whilst their petrol consumption might be estimated at about a gallon per hour. they arrived at norwich on sunday morning november th, , apparently after several days on the road. they took part of the small party of enthusiasts to bacton, who worked all through the sabbath; whilst other admiralty motor-cars were ordered specially over from newmarket which took the remainder of the party to and from the job. the three lorries avoided london, thus the full journey of each must have approximated miles. consider: the running expenses of a private two-ton motor-car would not be less than a shilling a mile; compare the petrol, oil consumption, and wear and tear. it is thus not difficult to estimate this absurdly unnecessary and recklessly extravagant waste of the taxpayers' money; and all because of some ridiculous personal prejudices, or of the sacred cause of red-tapeism; or the possible touching of some false sentiments of dignity or hollow pride, assumed by those who sit on chairs on one side or the other of whitehall, and who direct the details of war expenditure. from the war office. every englishman must deeply regret the memory of countless examples of reckless waste, incompetent management, and riotous extravagance which particularly marked the first two years of the war; and which, alas, appeared much more flagrantly in connection with the army than with the navy. during the progress of the war groans arose in this strain from every county. the yorkshire £ to £ tent-pegs case, as recorded in the press, december th, , was never denied. a motor trolley accidentally smashed about half a score of tent-pegs at ---- camp. instead of replacing them at the cost of half a crown or less, the c.o. ruled that a report must be drawn up and submitted to the war office requesting a new supply of pegs. in due course the answer arrived saying: "loose pegs could not be sent, as they were only supplied with new tents, but a new tent would be sent, value £ , _with the usual quantity of pegs_." which course in all seriousness was actually adopted. * * * * * in june, , a chimney at a drill hall in the town of lowestoft on the east coast required sweeping, and an orderly suggested to the commanding officer that he should employ a local man residing a few doors away, who offered to undertake the job efficiently at the modest outlay of s. but the commanding officer was shackled body and soul in red-tape bonds. following his duty he reported the matter to headquarters. further particulars were required and given and in the course of a few days the army chimney-sweep arrived, did the work and departed. _he came from and returned to birmingham_, and stated that his contract price was d. the third-class return fare from birmingham is s. d. it probably meant two days occupied at an expense which could not have been much less than s. a total of £ s. d., plus payment, postages, paper and possible extras, to _save d._ and to do a local man out of a s. job in a town admittedly ruined by the unfortunate exigencies of the war! from the home office. the leicester correspondent of the _shoe and leather record_, wrote on february th, : "the government have intimated, through the medium of the usual official document, that they are willing to receive tenders for twenty-four emery pads, the total value of which would be one shilling and four pence. the tender forms are marked 'very urgent' and firms tendering are warned that inability of the railway companies to carry the goods will not relieve contractors of responsibility for non-delivery. "the goods are presumably intended for the army boot-repairing depôts, but in view of the admitted 'urgency' it will, i think, strike most business men as strange that there is not an official connected with this branch of the service possessing sufficient authority to give the office boy sixteen pence with instructions to go and fetch the goods from the nearest grindery shop. "up to the time of writing i have not heard which local firm has been fortunate enough to secure this 'contract.'" * * * * * after this gigantic tussle of titanic races is over and the bill of costs has to be met, perhaps the nation will realise the cry, that for some years past has been lost like a voice crying in the wilderness--_we want business men_: business men in all government departments which have to handle business matters. england's colossal financial liabilities, pyramided up during recent years, are practically all traceable to her lack of efficient business men in her business departments. in the navy, in the army, in the transport, in the supplies, and throughout, let the head of each department be chosen from a member of its body, if believed best so to do; but let the business side thereof be presided over by an efficient and fully-qualified business man--a man who knows the purchasing power of a pound; more important still, who knows how hard it is to earn one. the men entrusted with such responsible positions should have full responsibility placed upon their shoulders; they should be highly paid and they should be free to act without being tied down by the fetters of "the book," by red-tape precedents, and by the counter-consents of so many others who in nine cases out of ten are men of no previous business training nor qualification concerning the majority of details which they are called upon to handle. recent army and naval administration, as the public have seen, requires little further comment here. the hundreds of thousands of pounds absolutely squandered in surplus rations, billeting, pay, and transport, etc., should have impressed the minds of observers in a manner that this generation is never likely to forget. a business man in each department, with a free hand to economise and arrange its details, in a business-like way, would have saved the country the salaries paid to them ten thousand times over, with a gigantic surplus to spare. the british intelligence department probably suffered least of any in this respect. its actual managing chief never wasted a shilling where he could personally see a way of saving it. to my knowledge he never overpaid anyone, whilst he was not at all adverse to using the persuasive argument of patriotism, in order to get a mass of useful work done for nothing at all. to quote an instance. it was the case of a man who, at his country's call, had sacrificed an income of considerably over £ , per annum, together with all his home and business interests, and who in the chief's absence had accepted a thankless and a dangerous task on the active foreign executive at a remuneration less than he had been paying a confidential clerk. the chief on his return to office did not hesitate to ask him to waive altogether his remuneration, and to pay out of his own pocket twenty-five per cent. of his personal travelling expenses in addition! loyally he agreed, and for months he thus served, although those in authority above him showed no sign of appreciation or gratitude afterwards for the sacrifice. if other government departments were half as careful over their expenditure as the secret service, the british public would not have much cause to find fault nor even to grumble. but what hampered its efficiency, and was neither fair, nor politic, nor economic, was the policy of the foreign office, which permitted others, in no way whatsoever connected with the service, or with the intelligence, to interfere (during and ) with its work and with members of its executive both at home and abroad. this was not the worst of it. not only was the organisation of a whole and important branch of the department on two occasions brought to a complete standstill, owing to the interference of one vainly conceited incompetent who had collected a string of high-sounding qualifications behind his name, but he caused money to be scattered in thousands where hundreds, and probably tens, or a little judicious entertaining, would have been more than sufficient. if these monies were debited to the secret service department, such a wrong ought to be righted. in due course the colossal indiscretions of this interfering bungler involved matters in such a dangerous tangle that he apparently lost his head, and for a period of time was quite inaccessible for business. on recovery he coolly announced that he should wash his hands entirely of all secret service affairs. imagine the feelings of the patient chiefs of the foreign secret service department. they had silently sat for months watching the efforts of their captured staff hampered at every turn whilst they were persistently building up a sound, practical, useful organisation, which a fool and his folly overturned, like a house of cards, in one day. they had been actually stopped from controlling the movements of their own men, yet they were responsible for their pay and their expenses; whilst possibly they had had a heavy load of extravagant outside expenditure heaped upon their department without any equivalent advantage. they had been compelled to endure this indignity, because, as service officers, they dared not, for the sake of their then present position and possibly their future, openly remonstrate or criticise, or even report the bare facts concerning the all-too-palpable incompetence of this somewhat powerful gentleman who had insisted on poking his officious and inefficacious nose into a department which did not concern him, and the existence of which it was his loyal duty to ignore. without a word of complaint (except to members of his executive, to whom his language was as emphatic as it was sultry), our good old managing chief set to work afresh. within a couple of months he had straightened out the line, when, to the astonishment of all concerned, the old enemy appeared once more upon the scene. moved either by jealousy, or by vindictive spite at the success which followed where he had failed, he again attacked the department by hitting at individual members of its actively working executive! remember, england was at war at the time; thus a more unpatriotic action could hardly have been conceived. yet the foreign office, although impressively advised of the wrong-doing and the probable consequences, either dared not or would not trouble itself to investigate the details of the matter. yes, verily, my friends, _suppressio veri_ has much to answer for. it is well for some of those who sit in high offices that a rigid censorship and secrecy was maintained throughout the war; or the very walls of england might have arisen in fierce mutiny. mr. le queux touches the point in his book on "german spies in england," page : "we want no more attempts to gag the press, no evasive speeches in the house, no more pandering to the foreign financier, or bestowing upon him birthday honours: no more kid-gloved legislation for our monied enemies whose sons, in some cases, are fighting against us, but sturdy, honest, and deliberate action--the action with the iron hand of justice in the interests of our own beloved empire." whilst burnod--"maxims de guerre de napoléon"--quotes: "it is the persons who would deceive the people and exploit them for their own profit that are keeping them in ignorance." napoleon's greatness was achieved by employing only the best men obtainable for positions of the highest responsibility. his most important officer in the secret service department seems to have been a german, by name karl schulmiester, who drew the princely salary of £ , per annum. proved efficiency was the little corsican's only passport. germany has learnt well from this lesson. soldiers, sailors, and business men waged her war. not a lawyer or professional politician took part in it except in the trenches. germany entrusted the administration of her affairs to experts. blue blood, patronage, and reputation carried neither weight nor meaning. it was ruthless, but it was business--it was war. the magic of a great military name did not save lieutenant-general helmuth von moltke from dismissal from the head of the german staff when the kaiser was convinced of his inefficiency. vice-admiral von engenohl, commander-in-chief of the high canal fleet, had to retire in favour of admiral von pohl owing to failures; whilst the septuagenarian father of bureaucrats, dr. kuhn, had to vacate finance in order to make way for the professional banker, dr. helfferich, who although quite unknown to distinction was appointed chancellor of the imperial exchequer. from the very commencement, germany appointed experts over each department of her colossal war machine--_expert business men_. every solitary industry which has aught to do with war-making was linked up with the government. by way of example there was a cotton council, a coal advisory board, a motor and rubber committee, a chemical committee, etc., etc. that able journalist, mr. f. w. wile, has proved again and again by his articles that war is and always has been a scientific business with germany. he argues that there is nothing hyperphysical or mysterious about the successes she achieved. they were essentially material. german soldiers are not supermen, or as individual warriors the equal to those of many other nations. their victories have been due to a chain of very obvious and systematic circumstances: to organisation, strict discipline, thoroughness, and far-sighted expert management; in other words, making a business of their business and employing therein only business men who know the business. apologising for this partial digression from the main subject matter, the french secret service of modern times has been principally conducted on the dossier principle, which came to light in the dreyfus affair. in the present war this system has seemingly been of little practical value, and france has had to depend almost entirely upon her allies for foreign intelligence work. eighteen months after the war commenced her foreign secret service department was said to have practically closed down for want of finances, so far as the north of europe was concerned. harking back to before the south african war, we find that paul kruger, the late president of the south african republic, was a great believer in an efficient up-to-date secret service department, and vast sums were expended by him with little, if any, inquiry or vouching. messrs. d. blackburn and captain w. waithman caddell, in their book on "secret service in south africa," record how tjaard kruger, a son of the president of the transvaal republic, who was for a short time chief of the secret service bureau, paid £ , in one afternoon in , out of the many thousands of pounds in gold coinage which he always kept in his office, to casual callers only, to men who came accredited by some person in authority as being able to supply valuable information. tjaard kruger was succeeded in office by a most clever and interesting celebrity, dr. leyds, secretary of state, who was the only man who made the department a success. he showed the unfailing tact of the born diplomat. he was a great reader of character and formed a pretty accurate estimate of a person in a surprisingly short time. he conducted his affairs so delicately and diplomatically that he won universal esteem and the staunchest and most loyal adherents. he would hand over disagreeable work to a subordinate so gracefully that it gave the impression that he was relegating the work, not because it irked him, but because he had found a man more capable than himself--the man whom he had long sought. dr. leyds' letters of instructions to his agents were clear, precise, and exacting, and provided for every possible contingency; yet had they fallen into the hands of the unauthorised they would have conveyed little. these letters bespoke the diplomat. they would have come safely out of an investigation by a committee of suspicious spy-hunters. when he required to "draw" any person he would instruct his agents to ascertain carefully that person's tastes, habits, prejudices, and amusements. these he would study to the minutest trifle, and by skilful play upon a weakness, or by the evidence of a similar taste, he would successfully penetrate to the most exclusive and jealously guarded sanctum sanctorum. mr. hamil grant is an author who may be congratulated upon his carefully-compiled work, entitled, "spies and secret service," which contains the history of espionage from earliest times to the present day. he shows how the practice was used by joshua, david, absalom, and the mighty warriors whose deeds of valour are recorded in the old testament. he quotes alexander mithridates, the king of pontus, who made himself the master of twenty-five languages and spent seven years wandering through countries he subsequently fought and vanquished. he traces developments from alexander the great, who lived years before christ and was the first known to start secret post censorship; from hannibal, who could never have crossed from andalusia over the pyrenees and the alps into the plains of piedmont to fight the battle of trebia ( b.c.) without the assistance he received from the intelligence scouts who preceded him. he points out how cæsar and the great generals who conquered europe invariably used scouts and intelligence agents. he quotes napoleon's admission of indebtedness to polyænus for original strategic ideas of espionage; whilst he has much to say in proving that no war of either ancient or modern times was successful without it. his most interesting chapters are those dealing with the rise of the prussian empire, which he claims to have been built almost entirely upon such an unenviable foundation. the author has taken the liberty of quoting somewhat numerous extracts as follows: "the modern system of espionage seems to have been originally conceived by frederick the great of prussia and subsequently elaborated into a kind of national philosophy by writers like nietzsche, treitschke and bernhardi. but a nation which is ruled as if it were a country of convicts actual or potential cannot fail inevitably to develop in a pronounced degree those symptoms of character and predisposition which land its converts in the correction institutions where they are most commonly to be found. "baron stein, a well-known statesman of the napoleonic period, was responsible for the practical application of the theories in the philosophy of frederick the great. he was followed by the celebrated dr. stieber, who had the handling of millions of pounds at his discretion and whose character had all those elements which were associated with the criminal who operates along the higher lines. he was a barrister, born in prussia in , and he first curried favour with the officials by persuading his friends and relations to enter into illegal acts in order that he might betray them for his own advantage. the german word _stieber_ seems appropriate; in our language it means sleuth-hound. in appearance he represented an inquisitor of old. his eyes were almost white and colourless, whilst there were hard drawn lines about his mouth. with subordinates he adopted the loud airs of a master towards slaves. in the presence of high authorities he was self-abasing and subdued, with a smile of deferential oiliness and acquiescence, with much rubbing of hands. "he seemed to have commenced secret service work with a standing salary of £ , a year, in addition to which he received side emoluments. he organised an internal and external service with complete independence from all other official bodies, subsidised by full and adequate appropriations from parliament. his system was thorough. he commenced by spying into the privacies of the royal family and court and government officials, army and naval officers, and everybody of the slightest importance, down to the labourers' and the workmen's organisations. in a very few years his nominal salary had risen to £ , , but about , in spite of his having been honoured with every german decoration conceivable, he was for a couple of years suspended from office, during which period he organised the russian secret police. "with stieber's assistance, bismarck struck down denmark in , austria in , and france in . even moltke, the great prussian organiser of victory, was astonished and astounded at the vast amount of valuable military information by which stieber had facilitated the rapid advance of his armies. "as a preliminary journey into france in , stieber appointed , spies, within the invasion zone, with head centres at brussels, lausanne, and geneva; and on his return he handed over to bismarck some , reports which contained full military and original maps of the french frontiers and the invasion zone. year by year this army of spies was increased, until in stieber had between , and , on his pay-roll. "in an attempt was made on the life of alexander the second of russia when on a visit to paris in order to create a closer franco-russian alliance, which dastardly act was planned by stieber in order to be frustrated by him. when the assassin was tried for his life the jury were bought by prussian gold to acquit the accused in order that the two nations could be kept apart and the object of the journey thereby frustrated, but whether it was the fertile brain of bismarck or stieber who planned the scheme of the plot will never be known. "in stieber boasted that he controlled the opinions of some eighty-five writers in the french daily and weekly newspapers, furthermore that he had paid sympathisers on the austrian, italian, and english press in addition. "by stieber and prince bismarck had extended their organised system materially as well as personally, which can be seen in the present day network of railway lines and stations controlled solely for militarist uses rather than for the development of the country; whilst the funds demanded yearly from the reichstag for secret service work increased proportionately. "no one but a native of prussia was allowed to hold any responsible position in prussia, yet in there were , germans or semi-foreigners serving on the french railways, all of them more or less in the employ of the german espionage bureau and prepared to destroy the plant, the lines, the buildings, and to paralyse french mobilisation at the word of command. "in addition to this, stieber's plans embraced upheavals in all industrial classes. "it was german gold which instigated and carried through the dreyfus agitation, also the association bill which brought about the disestablishment of the church of france and the so-called agadir incident in the spring of , which coincided so remarkably with the devastating strikes in great britain. "it is a cry of the fatherland that every good citizen is required to pay taxes, build barracks, and shut his mouth. "the recent agitations in ireland and practically all the strikes in england have been indirectly supported by german gold; to which the circulation of the extraordinary manifesto in august, , was also directly traceable. £ , was used for the purposes of the french railway strike of ; in the same year a local subscription of £ was raised for a bootmakers' strike at amiens, whilst an alleged sympathetic £ , was sent from frankfort. "the english suffragettes are also said to have received thousands of pounds from unknown sources which in reality were german. "stieber died in , possessed of over £ , . "as a part of his deep-rooted policy multitudes of germans were sent to france, england, and elsewhere to establish small businesses, practically every one of which was subsidised by the german secret service office; as also were german clerks and others who could obtain positions giving access to information of any value. stieberism practically demoralised the entire german nation, whilst it inoculated its poison into other european countries in such a manner that their energies and sound judgment seem to have been paralysed in more ways than one. "stieberists follow the same creed as jesuits, 'all is justifiable in the interests of the future of the fatherland.' "major steinhauer succeeded stieber, and the present secret service bureau of berlin was in his hands when this war started. he also was a past master in the art of organisation. the entry into brussels of , men without inconvenience or mishap was practically entirely due to his organisation. over , spies had been placed on the various routes between aix-la-chapelle and saint quentin, whilst those in the belgian capital had some two or three years previously actually worked out on paper the billets and lodgings for all those troops in advance.[ ] "the ordinary german secret service agent started with a salary of £ a year and s. a day expenses, with a bonus for each job to an unlimited amount. whilst abroad or on any matter of delicacy, out-of-pocket allowances were increased to £ a day, but % of all current monies owing was kept back as a safety-valve until he left the service. "amongst the members were to be found princes, dukes, counts, barons, lawyers, clergymen, doctors, actresses, actors, mondaines, demi-mondaines, journalists, authors, money-lenders, jockeys, printers, waiters, porters; practically every class of society was represented. "the remuneration cannot be considered high when compared with the dangers undertaken, and since no official countenance was ever given (nor indeed expected) on the part of the agents once one of them fell into the hands of the enemy, the game was far from being worth the worry and strain it entailed. "the training and examination before efficiency was reached were far more difficult than our cadets would have to pass at woolwich or sandhurst, or even officers for a staff college appointment." the head offices of the german secret service department, which was presided over by the kaiser himself, were situated in berlin at koenigergratzerstrasse no. . so far as callers were concerned the same routine was followed as at our war office and admiralty: the portals were guarded by commissionaires who kept records of every visitor, with such particulars as they could gather. army or naval officers were in charge of all departments. they planned the work, but they never or very rarely executed it. the secretaries and general assistants were all civilians. no ambassadors, ministers, secretaries of legation, envoys, plenipotentiaries, consuls, or recognised officials were permitted to interfere in any way with the work of this department, although they undoubtedly gave it every material assistance whenever they could. history has clearly proved this. no jealousies or acts of favouritism to relatives and the nominees of indirect influences were countenanced. for such an offence the very highest in office would at once be deposed and punished, whilst there was no appeal to a parliament, congress, chamber of deputies, or political newspapers, against the kaiser's decision. he was not only the supreme head of what he himself described as "my army of spies scattered over great britain and france, as it is over north and south america, as well as the other parts of the world, where german interests may come to a clash with a foreign power," but he took a very keen interest in their individual work. efficiency and obedience only counted in his estimation. the persons selected for this work were specially trained in preparation for the prospective tasks ahead of them. for days, weeks, and months, as the case may be, they were grounded in topography, trigonometry, mechanics, army and naval work; with a mass of detail which might be of service, possibly when least expected. their studies embraced visits to the big government construction works and yards; they were made familiar with all necessary knowledge concerning war-ships, submarines, torpedoes, aircraft, guns and fortifications; silhouettes of vessels; uniforms of officers; secret surveys of interesting districts; signals, codes, telegraphs and multitudinous other matters which the thorough-going german considered absolutely essential to the training of an efficient secret service agent. mr. le queux, to whom all honour is due for his persistent and patriotic efforts in unmasking german spies, their systems and organisations in this country, corroborates mr. hamil in recording that the german secret service dates back to about , when an obscure saxon named stieber began the espionage of revolutionary socialists, from which original effort the present department originated. also that the work was fostered under the royal patronage of frederick william, the king of prussia, which guarded it against anti-counter plotting from both militarism and police, and which permitted it to grow and flourish until it ultimately became the most powerful and feared department of the state. in august, , with an income approximating £ , per annum, the agents of the german secret service extended all over the world, organised to perfection as are the veins and arteries perambulating the flesh and tissues of a man's body. herr stieber's present-day successor, herr steinhauer, also seemed to enjoy the full confidence of his majesty the kaiser. he was then between forty and fifty years of age, charming in manners, excellent in education and of good presence. this officer of the prussian guard is well known throughout the capitals of europe. he has collected information concerning every foreign land which is almost incredible. he had maps of the british isles which in minute detail and accuracy surpass our own ordnance survey. the norwegian fiords were better known to german navigation lieutenants than to the native pilots and fishermen who daily use them. these are facts which practical experts in many countries have seen put to successful tests since the world-war started. for some years mr. le queux made it his hobby to follow up the movements of german spies in england. he collected information of value and importance which he says he placed in the hands of our government officials, but that our government departments were so hopelessly bound up and entangled by red-tapeism that for years his communications and warnings fell upon ears that would not listen, eyes that would not see, brains that would not believe, and hands that would not act. the late lord roberts, who devoted his life to his country, referred to this in the house of lords some ten years before the present war, but the liberal and radical politicians scoffed and laughed at him; as they did when he urged other reforms so sound, so urgent, and so necessary for our very existence. now prayers are offered for the dead who never would have died had these warnings been accepted in time. german espionage in england has been worked from brussels, the chief bureau being situate in the montagne de la coeur; whilst ostend and boulogne were favoured rendezvous for those engaged in the work and the go-betweens. large english towns and counties were divided into groups or sections. in each were selected numerous acting agents who received small periodical payments for services rendered. such sections acted under the supervision of a secret service agent, the whole system being visited from time to time by agents higher up in the service, who paid over all monies in cash, collected reports, and gave further instructions. the favourite cloak or guise to conceal identity was usually that of a commercial traveller. it is a great pity that full reports of various trials of german spies captured in england have not been permitted to be made public in the press, passing, of course, under a reasonable censorship which would have deleted only such parts as referred to matters affecting the safety of the realm. the scales would then perhaps have fallen from the eyes of our fatuous and blinded public. and many another secret enemy who was, or had been, working throughout the war, would have been reported and laid by the heels; as well as many a noble life spared which has fallen through such short-sighted folly. if the public are under the impression that the great round-up of over , german, austrian, and foreign spies so actively at work in england at the outbreak of war, and within a few weeks thereof, was due to our secret service department, it is labouring under a great delusion. the credit for this exceedingly valuable work is due to the energy, zeal, and intelligence of scotland yard, backed up by thoroughly efficient police officers throughout the country, which force is without doubt the finest in the world. our censorships are also separate departments run on their own lines and quite apart from any direct control from the secret service. on january th, , mr. j. l. balderston, the special correspondent of the _pittsburg despatch_, u.s.a., published data he had collected in europe showing that german propaganda had been carried on with feverish energy in eighteen neutral countries, two of which had been won over at a cost of £ , , , and one lost after a vain expenditure of £ , , . during the first eighteen months of war, germany had spent no less than £ , , to foster intimidation, persuasion, and bribery, in conjunction with her colossal secret service system. the following extract gives the estimated expenditure in each country where german agents were at work: united states £ , , turkey , , italy , , bulgaria , , greece , , china , , sweden , , roumania , , persia , , spain , , holland , , norway , , denmark , , switzerland , , argentine , , brazil , , chili , peru , ----------- total £ , , ----------- the moderation of the estimate that only £ , , has been spent in influencing the united states, a figure half or one-third of that often mentioned in america, is also characteristic of the other estimates, all of which are probably too low, since they deal only with expenditures which have been traced or have produced observable results, such as harems for persian potentates, or palaces for chinese mandarins, or motor-cars for poor greek lawyers who happen to be members of parliament on the king's side. it should also be noted that no attempt is made here to deal with the german system of espionage in hostile countries, or with the organised, but of course secret, attempt to sow sedition among the subjects of great britain, france, and italy, in india, south africa, egypt, tripoli, and tunis. to the german government, the stirring up of trouble in the dependencies of her enemies is an aim of perhaps equal importance with that of winning over neutrals to be actively or passively pro-german. returning to the actual work of the english secret service agents, it is soon noted that any ordinary british service officer of a few years' standing is a marked man in whatever society he may find himself. his bearing and mannerisms invariably give him away. there may be exceptions, in which he can disguise himself for a time, but that time will be found to be much too short. there are, of course, in the service many officers who are different from the ordinary standard, men whose veins tingle with the wanderlust of the explorer or adventurer, or who are of abnormal or eccentric temperament; men who generally hold themselves aloof from the fashionable society vanities, which in the past have been dangled too much and too closely round our stripe-bedecked uniforms to be good for efficiency. but even with these men, after they have been a few years in the service, they find that their greatest difficulty is to conceal that fact. it should be unnecessary to add that for the particular work which is under discussion it could hardly be considered an advantage for anyone to start out labelled with his profession and nationality. what ruled rome so successfully in olden times should have taught the world its lesson; namely, a triumvirate. in this particular venture, a naval man, a military man, and a civilian strike one as a good combination to be allotted to a given centre of importance. a paradoxical coalition abroad, in that it should ever be apart and yet together; each should know the other and yet be strangers; each should be in constant touch with the others' movements and yet be separated by every outward sign. the duties of service men should be limited to those of consulting experts, whilst specially selected and trained individuals should be employed to carry out active requirements. in some places and in some instances service men can undertake executive work better perhaps than anyone else could do; but these opportunities are limited. perhaps they may almost be classed as the exceptions which prove the rule. there seems to be an unwritten rule in the british secret service that no one should be engaged for any position of any importance below the rank of captain. in the head office it was a saying: "we are all captains here." and it may be assumed that every officer so engaged in the intelligence also ranked as a staff officer. most people have an idea that the pay in the british secret service is high, even princely. on this they may as well at once undeceive themselves; the pay is mean compared with the risks run, yet officers are keen on entering the b.s.s., as it is known to be a sure stepping-stone to promotion and soft fat future jobs. germany was said to vote about £ , per annum to cover direct secret service work, in addition to £ , for subsidising the foreign press; £ , , each year in all. yet certain members of the house of commons grudgingly and somewhat reluctantly gave their consent to the £ , originally asked for at the end of by the english secret service department. the actual amounts voted and expended on english secret service work are shown hereunder. _year ending st march._ _grant._ _expended._ £ , £ , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , (_not known_) how much of the money was actually available for direct secret service work, and how much may have been diverted into other or indirect channels (_exempli gratia_--the liberal solatium of £ , per annum to mr. masterman for perusing foreign newspapers)[ ] is not known; nor has the government allowed any explanation to be given. mr. thomas beach, of colchester, essex, whose identity was for so many years and so very successfully concealed under the pseudonym of major henri le caron, and by whose energies the united kingdom was saved the loss of many millions of money and many thousands of lives, proves, from so far back as the year and for the twenty-five years following, during which period he was employed in the secret service of the british government and stultifying the popular fiction which associates with such work fabulous payments and frequent rewards, that "there is in this service only ever-present danger and constantly recurring difficulty; but of recompense a particularly scant supply." at the conclusion of his somewhat interesting volume "the recollections of a spy," he complains bitterly of the meanness and cheese-paring methods of the british government: "on this question of secret service money i could say much. the miserable pittance doled out for the purpose of fighting such an enemy as the clan-na-gael becomes perfectly ludicrous in the light of such facts as i have quoted in connection with the monetary side of the dynamite campaign." after quoting the vast sums used by the enemy he adds: "how on earth can the english police and their assistants in the secret service hope to grapple with such heavily-financed plots as these on the miserable sums granted by parliament for the purpose?... some day, however, a big thing will happen--and then the affrighted and indignant british citizen will turn. the fault will be the want of a perfect system of secret service, properly financed.... imagine offering men in position a retainer of £ a month with a very odd cheque for expenses thrown in! the idea is ridiculous. i have heard it urged that the thought of secret service is repugnant to the british heart, wherein are instilled the purest principles of freedom. the argument has sounded strange in my ears when i remembered that london, as somebody has said, is the cesspool of europe, the shelter of the worst ruffians of every country and clime. america is called the land of the free, but she could give england points in the working of the secret service, for there there is no stinting of men or money." what a contrast were the life and actions of this man to nathan hale, one of the heroes of the american war of independence, who said: "every kind of service necessary for the public good becomes honourable by being necessary. if one desires to be useful, if the exigencies of his country demand a peculiar service, its claims to the performance of that service are imperious." when caught and sentenced to be shot he exclaimed: "i only regret that i have but one life to sacrifice for my country." throughout the period that i was connected with the b.s.s. there were constant difficulties about money. had not my personal credit been good, which enabled me to raise large amounts almost everywhere i happened to travel, i, or my colleagues, might have been stranded again and again. it was nothing unusual for appeals to be made to me to act as banker and good samaritan until long-deferred payments eventually arrived. in the early days most of the b.s.s. agents travelling abroad seemed to labour under the same difficulty: a shortage of funds and overdue accounts wanting payment. it may not have been any fault of, but merely an eccentricity of, our good old managing chief; be that as it may, impecuniosity never bothered me. some of the others got very angry about it, whilst their irritation increased as their banking accounts became more heavily overdrawn. so far as actual pay went, a b.s.s. man drew the equivalent to his ordinary army or naval pay, with nothing over for rations or extras. he, however, returned a list of his travelling expenses and hotel bills which were agreed to be refunded each month. if he were a married man, he had to pay his wife's and his family's expenses out of his own pocket, should it be necessary for any of them to accompany him, which often absorbed the whole of his pay and a good bit above it. if he entertained anyone with a view to drawing out some point of useful intelligence, it would be passed in general expenses, provided the outlay was exceedingly moderate. but the members of the executive with whom i came in contact were inclined to be of the parsimonious type, much too much afraid to spend a sovereign, either because they could not really afford it, or for fear they would never see it back again. their entertaining was conspicuous by its absence, which necessitated a rather heavier drain upon my pocket and upon my good nature. it had at times to be done, and someone had to do it; that someone was nearly always myself. the chief preached economy at all times and he religiously practised it. it was paradoxical in that if a big amount was wanted for some exceedingly doubtful purpose no limit seemed to be made; the wherewithal was almost certain to be forthcoming to meet the demand. but the loyal britisher who came along to help the service and his country in her hour of need, who freely and ungrudgingly offered to sacrifice everything he possessed in order to serve, who worked for nothing or practically nothing, and who perhaps paid a good part of his own expenses, received an absurdly small remuneration and little if any thanks; most certainly he never received a line in writing from anyone in high authority to express his country's gratitude. those who sit in chairs in whitehall take their regular fat salaries and periodical distinctive honours as a matter of course. they are the men who watch the wheels revolving. they collect and hand over results, the fruit garnered in by others working in the twilight which shades their individuality. with the powers-that-be these men (the gentlemen who sit in chairs) are ever in the official limelight, whilst the reckless, devil-may-care workers over the horizon, the men who carry their life in their hands and who go right into the lion's den to collect facts and data which often mean success or defeat in battles raged elsewhere, or who manipulate and pull the strings on the spot, seem to be ignored and forgotten. the secrecy of the service is so absolute that no mention of the way their work is accomplished may be made. the cloak of mystery is drawn so completely over the whole department that no matter what sacrifice a member may make for his country's sake, no matter what bravery he may have exhibited in almost every instance alone and unsupported, probably in an enemy's domain as one man facing a host of his country's enemies, his deeds are unrecorded, unhonoured and unsung. whilst he is in the service he is merely a cypher, a unit, an atom. when he has left it he is hardly remembered as once a member. what of it? he only did his duty. now he is out of the service he is no longer interesting, he ceases to exist. the big wheel of life continues to revolve. the b.s.s. department is but a very minute little wheel which cogs into the larger machinery of state in its own respective corner. as the rim of this very minor wheel comes up from the dark recesses of the working world and the separate cogs become revealed, those in authority who sit watching each and every cog, upon the stamina and reliability of which so much depends, from time to time find one that cannot stand the strain, because it is hurt or damaged, either in body, or in mind, or in fortune. it is at once removed. we are at war. sentiment is dead and buried, except with the weak, who in life's battles are crushed and accordingly find themselves forced to the wall. any cog believed to show signs of weakness is instantly extracted, and those who sit and watch the wheels revolve seek another piece of tougher and believed to be better material which may come to hand, and which they force into the vacant space created. for a second perhaps the discarded hard-used cog is looked at with admiration for past and valued service when knowingly driven at highest pressure; or with regret at having to part with such a tried and trusted friend; then it is hurled into outer darkness, on to the scrap-heap of broken and forgotten humanity. the new cog is pushed in and hammered home, it is smeared with the grease of experience, and the wheel continues its monotonous revolution. such is a good similitude of the short and exciting life of a secret service agent. footnotes: [ ] "so far from co-operating, the army and the navy were rival purchasers of aircraft."--mr. ellis griffith, house of commons, february th, . see also air defence debate in house of commons, march nd, . at hull, which was under military control, it was rumoured that a certain naval officer, in command of a small warship lying in the humber at the time of one of the first of the zeppelin raids, was court-martialled because he fired at and hit one of the zeppelins whilst it was bombarding the town, without having first received an order from the military permitting him to do so. annals of red-tapeism, june, . [ ] this fact refutes the theoristic argument that germany was forced at the eleventh hour to invade belgium. [ ] reports of house of commons. chapter iii initiation to active work crossing the north sea--a memorable meeting--instructions--on a cargo boat--snowstorms--false alarm--danish profiteers--english consul profiteering in food to germany--horse-smuggling--meeting my c.o.--blooded. the only open route to northern europe which members of belligerent nations could safely take was through bergen in norway. the wilson line from hull to christiania continued to run one weekly boat regularly, which carried mails, general cargo, and an occasional passenger. it was considered advisable by most people to avoid taking this boat. from newcastle a norwegian company ran a line of small steamers daily, which had not been molested by submarines or warships. they were mail-boats, and although their accommodation and fittings were far from up-to-date, and travellers had to look after themselves much more than they should have been called upon to do, they appeared to be crowded each trip. the neutral flag and the shortest direct passage was responsible for this. there were many other available ways of crossing the north sea open to me, and no restrictions as to route had been laid down. i had simply to visit a certain hotel in a certain town, in a certain country, at a certain hour, on a certain date--arranged well ahead. the margin of time allowed was ample for a crossing by sail if desired. with a passport, a revolver, a bundle of english banknotes (of my own providing), and as little luggage as possible, i made my way towards scotland to take ship for norway and the beyond. there were three vessels which sailed from the port of embarkation i selected, two norwegians and a swede. one of the former was fortunately taken. it was certainly fortunate, because the latter was blown up and sunk by a mine within a few hours of her departure. such is the luck of war. the voyage across the north sea was uneventful. it was rough, as it generally is. the passengers were few. they were almost entirely russian poles; i was the only englishman on board, and there was one japanese. all were ill with sea-sickness, which was perhaps accentuated by a deadly fear of mines and torpedoes. few slept, less ate, and as they were charged for the meals they did not consume the owners must have made money, more particularly so when it is remembered that fifty per cent. extra was charged in addition to the ordinary fares, to cover war risks. the sea seemed to be utterly devoid of life. not a sail, not a column of smoke, nor even a bird was sighted until the ship emerged from a fog-bank, wherein she had rolled for many hours broadside on, within a few miles of the outer island-barrier of the norwegian coast. to the ultimate intense relief of everybody the fog lifted, and a few hours afterwards a small fishing-town on the south-west of norway was reached. cargo was discharged, more cargo was taken on board, and again the chains rattled in the hawser pipes; the engines throbbed and the siren aroused echoes from the rocks around as the voyage was renewed northwards. later in the day other towns were reached, and similar scenes repeated, until near midnight the lights of the historic port of bergen danced in the distance. securing the services of a friendly native, one of the numerous hangers-on who flit round the quays of seaport towns in every land in the hope of picking up money with the least possible exertion expended to earn it, i made my way to a quiet hostelry in the quietest part of the pleasant old town and installed myself as comfortably as circumstances permitted. at the appointed place and hour, i strolled casually into the entrance hall of a certain hotel and stood apparently puzzling over the railway and steamboat time-tables which were hanging on the wall. several people were in evidence, but no one seemed to be particularly interested in anyone else. i had been there quite a time, and was wondering how i could explain my presence in order to excuse and justify a prolonged lingering, when i observed a small-built, quiet inoffensive-looking young man cross the hall and stop near the hotel register. absent-mindedly he tapped his teeth with his pince-nez, and muttered to himself and half aloud, "i wonder if mr. jim has called for that letter." now "mr. jim" was the password i had been instructed to listen for. the unknown was to give me certain orders. without them i would have been like a ship in a gale minus the rudder. the little man never looked at me nor even my way. he had stepped near enough so that i could overhear his _sotto voce_, also within range of two or three others who were congregated in the hall. his utterance was low, but it was as clear as a bell, and he spoke in norwegian. no one took any notice of him or his remark. this, however, appeared to trouble him not a bit. adjusting his glasses he pulled a newspaper out of his coat pocket and proceeded to make himself comfortable on a settee in a remote corner, where he could observe all that passed and all who came or went; provided he wished so to interest himself should the contents of his paper fail to hold his attention. having marked down the man there was no need to hasten matters. caution at one's initiation is generally advantageous. ten minutes later i seated myself on the same settee as the stranger and also became absorbed in a newspaper. assuring myself that no one was within earshot except the little gentleman before referred to, i murmured soft and low, whilst i still appeared to be reading the paper: "i know mr. jim. can i give him the letter for you?" "who sent you to ask for it?" the stranger queried. i named a name which was a countersign. "for whom does mr. jim require it?" i gave the third and final word which proved beyond doubt my title to the precious document in question. during this short conversation both of us had been studying our news-sheets, and unless an observer had been stationed within a few feet of us, nothing transpired that could have given the smallest clue to the fact that any communication had passed. with no sign of recognition the little man got up to go. he left his paper on the seat, and in passing me he whispered: "you will find the letter in my _evening news_. good luck to you." in the privacy of a bedroom the letter was opened. it was type-written, with no address and no signature. it contained instructions to proceed to another hotel two full days' journey away, where i was to look out for, and make the acquaintance of, a certain english staff officer to whom i had to deliver my dispatches. it was fortunate i had provided myself with plenty of money. the ten pounds for preliminary expenses, which was all i had been given, was already over-exhausted, and travelling in those days of war scares, high freights, and shortage of accommodation, was far more expensive than the gentlemen who sit in easy-chairs at home would believe. i was the only passenger on a semi-cargo boat which sailed next day for the port desired. the weather was awful. severe frost coated the deck and rigging with ice, in places inches thick. heavy snowstorms impeded navigation, whilst again and again the vessel had to lay to for hours at a stretch before her captain dare make any attempt at headway. wrecks were continually passed, not cheery encouragement to one's spirits; whilst, generally speaking, that two days' voyage was about as severe a shaking up as anyone could possibly expect to receive at any time, or anywhere, during a year or more at sea. during the night, about . a.m., the engines suddenly ceased running. feet pattered up and down the deck and everyone on board instinctively became aware that something unusual had happened. slipping on a thick overcoat and a small norwegian forage cap, i cautiously negotiated the companion-way. i suspected a german war-vessel had held up the ship. if so, i had no desire to meet any members of a boarding party until i had destroyed the sealed dispatch entrusted to me. after turning over possibilities in my mind i had decided to make use of the exhaust pipe of the lavatory. it was therefore essential that one's lines of retreat should be kept open without fear of being cut off. it transpired, however, that my fears were groundless. the captain had suddenly been taken ill, and an immediate operation seemed to the first mate necessary as the only chance of saving his life. the ship had, therefore, run to the neighbourhood of an island whereon a doctor was known to reside, and the unfortunate captain was about to be conveyed ashore. poor chap! it subsequently transpired that he died the following day in spite of every effort to save him. during the voyage the ship touched at various small stations to deliver and receive cargo. sometimes a few passengers would come aboard, generally for short trips. at one place a couple of danes rushed over the gangway as it was being dropped preparatory to departure. they had made a record journey across the mountains, and exhibited intense anxiety for expedition. they wanted to reach rail-head in order that they could get back to their own country as soon as it was possible. why? that one little word gave something to concentrate one's thoughts upon during the long hours at sea. danes, generally speaking, are heavy drinkers. they have a fondness for spirits, particularly with their coffee. it was advisable to wait until after the midday meal, when it was customary to repair to the smoke-room, if further curiosity was to be satisfied. securing a corner seat i cocked up both my legs on to the settee and buried myself in a book--the sagas of the north. after ostentatiously appearing to drink a number of small glasses of spirits, signs of somnolescence followed. soon the book dropped with a bang on the floor and intermittent snoring became almost a nuisance to the only two other occupants of the saloon, the danish travellers. the confined space of the apartment caused them by compulsion to sit within a few feet of where i was lying. they had been whispering in so low a tone that not a word could be heard. as the snoring increased they raised their voices. under the impression that the sleep was probably alcoholic, they were soon discussing their affairs in distinctly audible tones. and very interesting business it turned out to be. shortly, it concerned the purchase, transport, and delivery of some hundreds of horses which they had been buying for and on behalf of, or for resale to, the german government. this business had apparently been going on for some time. denmark and sweden had been early denuded of all available horseflesh at enormous prices. norway was now being swept clean. the two travellers were discussing the probabilities of any action being taken by the british minister at ---- to attempt to veto or put what obstacles he was capable of in the way of this traffic. one of the twain was a fat, good-natured man whom nothing seemed to trouble. the other was thin and dyspeptic looking, who seemed suspicious of his own shadow. "he'll never be fool enough to sit quiet under the thousands we are sending over," the latter remarked. "oh, he'll never trouble. look at consul ---- at ----. ever since the war broke out he has been sending hundreds of thousands of barrels of herrings to germany. he is shipping them off now, as fast as he can get them. and, the devil burn me, he's the english consul. the minister has never stopped him. why should he trouble us?" "but has he not power to remove him?" asked the thin man. "of course he has," replied fatty. "ministers appoint and remove consuls as they please. and when an english consul is allowed to rake in a fortune in a few months, supplying the germans with food, how can you argue he will stop us dealing in horses _to go to denmark_?" "anyhow, the sooner we can get ours through the more relieved i shall be," grunted the other. "it will take them two days to reach ----, and once they are shipped it's all right." their conversation drifted to other topics, and although i waited patiently on the sofa for another hour nothing further of importance was divulged. some time after this an exceptionally heavy sea struck the vessel, causing her to roll so heavily that everything on the tables was spilt, whilst i was pitched, _nolens volens_, amongst the spittoons on the floor. this foretaste of further rocking to come sent all three of us to our respective berths. on landing at the port of ---- i lost no time in searching for my unknown commanding officer. the hotel which had been named to me was a good one, its guests included many nationalities. at dinner i spotted three men of military aspect, each of whom might well be the gentleman in question. coffee and a cigar in the lounge failed to procure any sign of the expectant one; i therefore strolled out into the town to make a few small purchases. an hour later i returned. only three people now occupied the lounge. one of them undoubtedly was an army officer belonging to a smart regiment, but it would have been difficult to guess to what country he belonged. a first venture would probably have elicited german as the answer. all the more reason for double caution, thought i to myself. in nonchalant fashion i overhauled the mass of periodicals upon the tables, and having selected a local one, settled myself down at ease in a long deck-chair under a potted palm to watch and wait for possible developments. in half an hour's time two of the visitors departed, whereupon my _vis-à-vis_ looked hard at me over the top of his newspaper and elevated both eyebrows. i nodded. he smiled, and with a slight indication of the head, implying that he wished to be followed, slowly left the room and proceeded up the grand stairway. waiting perhaps a quarter of an hour i also took the same route. the first and second landings were devoid of life. on the third i noticed a half-open door, which i entered as though the room were my own; whilst i was quite prepared to apologise if a mistake was made in my so doing. here, however, i found my friend of the elevating eyebrows, who received me cordially, and i was introduced to his wife as an englishman recently arrived. i gave the name in which i had booked on arrival; my newly-found friend did the same. this, of course, was not sufficient. for some little time we talked of trivialities and verbally fenced, and thrust, and parried, the while certain secret passwords were casually introduced and exchanged in a somewhat similar manner as has before been narrated in connection with the little gentleman at bergen. when assurance had become doubly sure, the door was locked and bolted, the dispatch handed over, and the story of the horses told. thus it came to pass that i was first "blooded" in the foreign secret service of his britannic majesty's government. chapter iv intercommunicating with temporary codes and incidents grammatical code--a tÊte-a-tÊte--confidences--misconstrued message leads to domestic tragedy--local codes--an altered message--an important mission--shadowed--attempted thefts of papers--a contretemps--leakage of news from england--watching a suspect--false message discloses an open code--geometrical codes--the knot code--a fascinating actress, a confiding attachÉ, and a mysterious chess problem--cleverness of french secret service. no reader must expect or anticipate a disclosure of the direct methods which the british secret service uses for communicating with headquarters. that is a carefully-guarded secret which no one in or out of the service would dream of referring to. suffice it therefore to say that it is difficult to conceive anything more clever or effective than it is, both as to its efficiency and its celerity in use. on the other hand, when secret service agents are working abroad they must perforce rely upon codes of sorts, for means of intercommunication between themselves, their friends and supporters. these codes are invented by them entirely at their discretion. if they are wise in their generation they never keep the same code too long in use, but change it, at frequent intervals, for another entirely different in every respect. such codes cannot be too carefully prepared; whilst every user knows that if his deception is discovered the consequences to himself might be serious indeed. simplicity is invariably the safest and most effective rule to follow. in order to give the reader a good idea of how the work was accomplished a couple of these codes are roughly outlined, with examples of their working in each case. one was used for sea work. it was a grammatical code, which, although simple enough in its patent aspect, was not easy to memorise with that strict accuracy which is so essential to future use. shortly, this code ran somewhat on the following lines, although english names are therein substituted in order to give better illustration. needless to add, these messages were worded in the language of the country in which they were despatched, and signed with an assumed name which would be in common use in that country. example . i. communications signed with _christian name_ refer to _war ships_. communications signed with _surname_ refer to _merchant ships_. ii. _please send a copy of_ "_the times_" _to_ ... means "a base is being formed at ..." iii. i received a letter from ... _on_ ... means {german auxiliary cruiser(s) in port at ... {german battleship(s) hanging about near ... iv. i received a message from ... _on_ ... means {german large merchant ship in port at ... {german cruiser hanging about near ... v. i am hoping to hear from ... _on_ ... means {german small merchant ship in port at ... {german torpedo-boat(s) hanging about near ... vi. i am expecting a message from ... _on_ ... means {german collier(s) in port at ... {german submarine(s) hanging about near ... vii. the _first blank_ in the sentence is to be filled in with the _name of the place_ at which the base is being formed, or at which the ships have been seen. viii. the _second blank_ in the sentence, after the word "on" is to be filled in with a _day of the week_ indicating the number of ships seen (_see_ over, ix). ix. is monday is tuesday is wednesday is thursday is friday is saturday is sunday is monday-week is tuesday-week, and so on. is monday-fortnight, and so on. x. if, _instead of the singular person_ "i am (had)," the _plural_ "we are (had)" is written, it means that the ships in question, if merchantmen, have left port and are _going south_. xi. if neither the first person singular nor plural is written and the communication begins, for instance, "letter from ... _on_ ..." it means that the ships in question, if merchantmen, have left port and are _gone north_. xii. any mention of _illness_ means that the ships are _disabled_. xiii. _i am expecting a letter from_ ... _on_ ... means that several german warships (or merchantmen) of different classes (or sizes) have been seen. xiv. _specimen message_: we are hoping to hear from newcastle on sunday. _signed_) charles. _decoded_, means german warships have been observed outside newcastle, proceeding south. the week after my arrival, this code had been completed and put into use. i was one evening sitting in the best and most popular restaurant in a certain town. the place was crowded with customers and business was brisk. the walls were decorated with magnificent frescoes by a celebrated german artist. hundreds of electric lamps added warmth and attractiveness, whilst dreamy valse music from wald teufel, given by a german orchestra, seemed to help the digestion. between bites and sips of german lager i was absorbed in the perusal of an evening news-sheet wherein every belligerent army was reported to be making marvellous forward movements, which, if half true, would have carried them respectively quite through europe and back again in the course of a few weeks. whenever my eye shifted from the newspaper to my plate an opportunity offered to note casually my surroundings, as well as my immediate neighbours. two seats only were vacant. they were located next my own and in due course were occupied by a young naval lieutenant accompanied by an outwardly appearing charming demi-mondaine. the champagne of sunny france soon loosened their tongues. but the more their voices became raised the more absorbed i became in my reading. presently snatches of conversation drifted my way. the lady was complimenting her gallant upon his patriotism and prowess. he, as the americans say, was blowing hot air. a listener's difficulty was to sift the substance from the imaginary boasting. subject matters dealt with were mostly of a frivolous nature, but ever and anon the lieutenant would return to his sea trips and the results from their patrolling. _inter alia_ he related the number of drifting mines taken up, vessels sighted and submarine visitation, which matters only were of interest to me. presently he paused, then, sinking his voice almost to a whisper, informed his enchantress that just before his ship entered port, that very afternoon, a german cruiser had been sighted going full steam north and close in shore. he proceeded by giving at length his personal opinions and suppositions as to her destination and objective. now i happened to be aware of several objectives which would be very attractive to such an enemy vessel. for some weeks i had been over-anxious regarding the safety of a line of steamers, the uninterrupted running of which was a matter of some importance to england. and although i entertained considerable doubts regarding the truth of the latter part of the young lieutenant's statement, yet i felt that i should send the information along to headquarters for what it was worth. so i despatched the following telegram: "received letter from b ... on monday about you from a chic lady although do not believe what she says.--christian." which on being decoded would run: "one enemy battleship is stated to be hanging around b ... going north. information obtained through female source and doubtful." it had been previously arranged that all local wires should be sent to a certain individual at his private residence, who conveyed them to another who had his fingers on the reins of management. if the news contained was sufficiently important it would be transmitted home, which would mean a duplicate communication and ensure a double chance of safe arrival. the first recipient at local headquarters was a man of gentle disposition, a domesticated and homely parent, whose many years of connubial bliss had never been marred by a single cloud of unhappiness. he was one of those lovable personages who is generally captured by a lady who may have enjoyed numerous innocent flirtations before marriage, and consequently might perhaps be of a suspicious and jealous disposition, who, knowing the goodness of heart of her spouse, might imagine that every woman showing an amiable or friendly spirit towards him was trying to wean his affections from herself; and who might accordingly be always on the watch for all possible emergencies. never having seen, nor met, the good lady, i had no accurate data on these points, but the fact is recorded that when the telegraph official, who happened to be a personal friend of the addressee, received the aforesaid message, he warned the telegraph delivery boy to give it only to the addressee. unfortunately the addressee did not happen to be at home when the message arrived, and his faithful wife answered the door. having been advised to a certain extent regarding these matters, and recognising the boy who brought the message, she naturally pressed him upon the nature of his errand and soon persuaded the reluctant youth to hand over the missive, which she at once opened and read. not knowing its hidden meaning she jumped to wrong conclusions. from the scraps of news which reached me afterwards relating to the domestic tragedy which followed, i pieced together that the believed-to-be wronged wife immediately donned her outdoor apparel in order to seek out her judas in lamb's-skin. before she ran him to earth, she had imagined the worst, and had worked herself up into a veritable furore of unnecessary excitement. what really happened when they met, what was said, or done, were details which i never knew. but the unfortunate message-receiver implored me to invent another code at my earliest convenience; one, for choice, which was not quite so open to dual construction. most local codes, when and where possible, were worked out on domestic lines. by way of example, familiar and commonplace names were selected which could be found in an ordinary directory. to each was attached a definite meaning, and the message would be worded so that anyone seeing it would think it related to an ordinary everyday event. christian names might be coded to mean definite objects; to wit--bertha, a battleship; dora, a torpedo boat destroyer; sarah, a submarine; tiny, a torpedo boat; mary, a merchantman; connie, a collier; trina, a trawler; louisa, an airship; and so on. surnames were useful to designate numerals; to wit--oldman, one; turner, two; truman, three; smith, four; jones, five; robinson, six; and so on. knowing that every telegram was stamped with the name of the place it was handed in at, the points of the compass, north, south, east, and west were conveyed by including the name of some place which could be found on any ordinary map within a reasonable radius of the place of dispatch. time spoke for itself. thus, a telegram handed in at lowestoft worded as follows: "sent your housemaid sarah jones to felixstowe o'clock this afternoon," on being coded would read: "five submarines passed lowestoft at o'clock this afternoon steaming south." any reference to an illness meant that damage had been done, or that a vessel had been adversely affected to some extent. any reference to a marriage or engagement meant that a combat or battle had taken place. "in bed" conveyed the news that a ship or ships had been sunk. "put to bed" meant sunk, annihilation, or defeat, according to the context; mention of "delirium or head sickness" conveyed suspicions, or suspicious circumstances; "doctor called in" that the enemy (or others, as the context might convey) had retired, or been put to flight, whilst any direct, or indirect, reference to "remaining here, or at some named place," that the object or objects in question were still there or likely to remain. the above-mentioned outline should be sufficient to convey to the reader an idea of how the stunt worked out in practice. that these messages were often tapped and became the subject of racking headaches to the code decipherers who attempted to unravel them, was quite probable. when we could we tried on the same thing ourselves; such was considered only fair in love as well as in war. lady telegraph and telephone operators are sometimes amenable to flattery and judiciously administered attentions. it is also within the bounds of possibility that an occasional one might be met with who might not object to test a communication with a semblance of reason; whilst one of the most interesting enemy codes we managed to intercept during our rambles was confined to the limits of a postage-stamp. it meant not only intercepting the letter or postcard but having to unstick the stamp and test it before the message could be copied. it is not at all necessary, however, to pursue this subject further, but once upon a time during the continuance of this war a certain message was handed in at a certain telegraph office in holland to cable to a certain address in the u.s.a., which ran as follows: "father dead." the telegraph operator, for some reason which we need not trouble to inquire into, altered the wording to "father deceased," and then despatched the message in the usual manner. immediately came back the reply: "is father really dead _or only deceased_?" the following up of that simple message cost one government a considerable sum of money, but it was well worth the outlay. to those who seek the sunny side of life, humour can be found in all things. once at a funeral, when the author was broken in body and soul with the painful agony of dry tears, kind providence sent relief from an unexpected quarter. in the pew immediately in front were seated two mourners, one a tiny man, the other about lbs. in weight, whose head was nearly as big as the puny man's whole body. on leaving the church for the graveside each took the other's hat by mistake and they got separated in the crowd. at the close of the service they unconsciously and solemnly put on the hats they respectively held. that of the tiny man did not find resting-place until it had covered his head, ears, and face, and settled on his shoulders. that of the enormously fat man looked like a pea on a drum. likewise it was with our local code messages. their use in practice was often the innocent cause of much trouble; more often, perhaps, the source of some humour. the gentle cherub who had undertaken the collection of messages and who has recently been hereinbefore referred to, maybe received another shock to his domestic bliss; and that only a week after the one before related. it is much to be feared that he did not fully appreciate the humorous side. however, as it gives an excellent illustration of the practical and simple working of the last-mentioned code, it is narrated. the facts are as follows: i one day received this request. "i shall be exceedingly obliged if you will undertake to deliver this package to ---- personally. if you could start at once it would be very good of you; but please understand, no living soul may see the contents of this packet except ---- himself." i bowed my acceptance of the mission, murmuring how honoured i felt at an opportunity to render service to the illustrious personage soliciting my assistance. then i hastened to my hotel to prepare for immediate departure. the midnight express to ---- was crowded. on the platform a few minutes before the scheduled time of leaving, representatives from almost every country in europe could have been picked out. detectives and secret servant agents glided through the crowd, observing, watching and noting the many strange and familiar faces. their work meant an added consumption of current on the wires. the vacant stare, the side glance, or the wooden far-away expression of countenance, conveyed much to these men. to them it was always interesting to try and read the working of the brain behind. but i was a traveller and the doings of these night-hawks interested me but little, beyond such casual observation as could be made during a quick passage to the train. in the corridor of the car to which i was allotted were several germans. two in particular i instinctively feared. their faces were familiar. one of them had secured a berth in my compartment, and addressing me in excellent danish, showed a desire to be affable. it was unsought, but it would perhaps be dangerous not to reciprocate. soon after the train had started on its journey i politely offered to share some refreshment with this fellow-traveller, which, however, that astute gentleman politely but firmly declined. it was an easy matter to guess the suspicious working in his mind. he meant to pass a sleepless night. so did i. in due course i retired to rest, and the german secured the door of the cubicle before climbing to his berth, which was above mine. as soon as he was comfortably settled i opened the door he had closed. the german waited a while, and then, very stealthily, shut it again. i waited about a like period and reopened it. so the game proceeded, until about four o'clock in the morning the german complained of the draught. in the most polite language that could be commanded i replied by commenting upon the extreme heat and the unhygienic practice of curtailing fresh air. at a.m. the german decided to seek another car, at which i inwardly rejoiced exceedingly. no sooner had he departed than i secured the door and enjoyed a refreshing sleep of several hours. later that morning the door-closing german was observed in close consultation with his companion. on a ferry which had to be crossed both of them watched my every movement, and i began to congratulate myself in that i had taken precautions before departure in order to guard against contingencies. forearmed is forewarned. before leaving i had prepared another packet in exact duplicate of the original i had been entrusted with. the dummy contained only an old newspaper, and it was placed in an inside bank-note pocket of my waistcoat. its outline could have been detected by anyone on the look-out for it. the original packet was elsewhere concealed, in a secure hiding-place, where it was least likely to be sought or found. on leaving the ferry a rush was made at the gangway and i found myself involuntarily pushed forward and wedged in between the two over-night observers. i could feel their hands run over my chest, so i took some interest in the proceedings. i had not been on numerous race-courses, nor participated in football, boat-race night, and other big crowds in england, without learning something of the ropes. every time a hand entered the inside of my coat it encountered small steel obstacles which lacerated and hurt. true i lost a few buttons, and my clothes were damaged, but the dummy packet remained intact, and i noticed with some satisfaction afterwards that one of the two gentlemen before mentioned had a hand bound up in a pocket handkerchief when they boarded the waiting train. on arrival at ---- my taxi-cab was followed. having been a constant visitor to the town in question for many years i redirected my driver to a public building which had a bolt hole at its back, by the use of which my pursuers were baffled successfully, and the package was safely delivered without further trouble or anxiety. after which i despatched the following cablegram: "child delivered safely this morning mother doing well." whether this message was also intercepted by the jealous wife of our temporary receiving agent, history does not relate, but i tremble to think of the volcanic domestic eruption which must have ensued if it were so. when war was declared, cables were cut, a most rigid censorship installed, and no printed matter was allowed to leave england. yet news, most important news, continued to leak through to germany, and most of it went through neutral countries. before the war, germany used cyphers, but these were soon dropped. it is common knowledge that every government keeps a copy of all cypher and code messages sent over the cables from every embassy or consulate, whether the countries are at peace or war. the great cleverness of certain men at unravelling any code, however complicated, is also openly acknowledged. yet, in spite of every precaution and all science and knowledge the country could bring to bear, news continued to leak through and to fly across the north sea. scotland yard, to which admirable institution the whole world owes so much, was put upon its mettle. it proceeded to watch with still closer scrutiny certain suspected persons who still claimed the privilege of freedom. one of these was a small london tradesman whose premises were situated in a remote and quiet back street. he appeared to have rather more corresponding friends than his position or his business justified. his correspondence, in and out, was intercepted, copied, and sent along in a manner not likely to arouse his suspicions. nothing, however, occurred which could be looked upon as even suspicious, until one day a telegram arrived which had been handed in at a certain naval base of some importance in the u.k. it simply said "been ill three days--john," or words to that effect. now the sender had also been watched, an attention which had been evenly divided amongst every one of this tradesman's correspondents. the police knew that the sender of the message, "john," had been in perfect health for quite a long time past, which fact was, of course, communicated to headquarters. the information caused a flutter in the official dovecots. copies of the message, with comments, were forwarded to the war office, to the admiralty, and to other government departments likely to be interested. to shorten the story, certain gentlemen in the admiralty were amazed when they remembered vividly that secret orders had been issued by them which commanded a squadron of warships to leave the port at which the message had been handed in, and join up with the high seas fleet _exactly three days_ from the date of the aforesaid message. needless to add that the further activities of both the sender and the receiver of the telegram were forthwith promptly crushed, once and for all future time. scotland yard also discovered, probably with considerable assistance from the censorship department, that the germans were successfully getting out information useful to them through open business letters addressed to residents in neutral countries, particularly norway, sweden, denmark, and holland, which were decoded by adding certain geometrical figures. for example, where the sides of an added triangle or triangles intersected one another, or cut the rim of a circle, there would be found the words used in the secret messages. several of these ingenious codes were described in a most interesting article which was published in _pearson's magazine_, october, , with illustrations which more clearly demonstrated their latent meaning. two of the most brilliant of them were the knot alphabet and the chess problem. in the former case a parcel sent to a supposed prisoner in a german internment camp was found to contain, amongst other things, a woollen sweater, or knitted sports vest. it was apparently so badly knitted, and the wool was seen to be so full of knots, that the censor's suspicions were aroused. subsequent searches revealed that no such person as the addressee of the parcel in question was known to exist. his name certainly did not appear in any army list. the aforesaid garment was most carefully unravelled. the wool was found to be whole, with a multitude of simple knots tied at irregular intervals. alphabets were written on a board, each letter being placed at given distances apart, and very soon a most interesting message was read off. the chess problem was deeper in its cunning and its intricacy. during , a young and fascinating actress appeared in paris. she was suspected and closely watched. in due course she captivated one of the junior secretaries of a neutral embassy. his integrity was absolutely beyond all doubt, but naturally he also was watched and shadowed in order to learn what was passing, or might be passing, between them or otherwise. the watchers' notes, on being compared, revealed certain facts which when carefully pieced together laid bare the whole plot. the actress professed to be deeply interested in the serious game of chess. she inspired a similar passion in the breast of the young and inexperienced attaché. one day she produced to him a rough illustration of an alleged chess problem which she had cut from a local newspaper; in all probability she herself had indirectly caused its publication. she worried her admirer unduly to help her solve what had been, or were, the opening moves in the game which had caused the pieces to be left on the board as shown in the sketch. no one in paris could be found who could enlighten or help her; at least, so she represented. gentle interrogation of the attaché by his inamorata caused him to admit the existence of a chess club of some renown in the capital of the country his embassy represented. it was a neutral country which bordered on germany. the actress then persuaded him to send this simple problem to the club mentioned with an urgent request to unravel the problem, if possible, and to let her know, through him, the result. she knew, as does everyone who has had any close relationship with an embassy, that every embassy has its own private letter-bag, which is inviolate, and is passed over all frontiers uncensored and unopened, and is generally carried personally by some trusted messenger of the government interested. the actress undoubtedly relied on the almost certain chance of her admirer sending his letters, this one in particular enclosing the problem illustration, in the embassy letter-bag. which indeed he did. but the very astute members of the french secret service were wide awake to all her carefully-thought-out plans. they took measures accordingly, and the letter in question never reached its destination. the watchers had reported that this actress had shown strong outward charitable dispositions, particularly towards the wounded soldiers from the war; that she frequently visited them in the various hospitals, sung to them, entertained them, and took them lavish presents of fruit and flowers. on one of these most praiseworthy visits she had been observed to linger unduly at the bedside of a young german aviation officer who had been shot down well behind the french lines. the french secret service knew that prior to the war germans had made many secret surveys of france, particularly of the northern territories and provinces. greatly to the credit of the french, and unknown to the germans, copies of most of these surveys had been obtained and filed away for possible future use or reference. probably it was remembered that one of these survey maps had been ruled up with diagonal, lateral and parallel lines dividing the country into squares, precisely as is shown on a chess-board. it was not therefore much of a surprise when it was ascertained on comparing the sketch of the chess problem, which had been brought back to paris, with the copy survey plan of the germans which had been ruled up as before mentioned, to find that the one exactly corresponded with the other. but the french war office was certainly surprised to see before it, set out on the sketch of the chess-board, an accurate portrayal of all their reserve forces behind their front lines, posted in the exact positions which they then held. it required little perspicuity to understand that pawns on the board, or rather map, represented infantry; kings, heavy artillery; queens, field artillery; knights, cavalry; bishops, air divisions; and a castle, the military headquarters. chapter v locating german mine-layers coast hunting--a find--spies of many nations--obliterating trails--tracking down the _berlin_--marvellous navigation by germans--interned--german arson--an impudent invitation--a russian sugar queen's yacht--queer company--sapping hun intelligence--playing on weaknesses--success--loss of h.m.s. _audacious_--soliloquising. the first work which was entrusted to me after having been granted a rating in the foreign secret service was to hunt out the hiding-places of the large german auxiliary cruisers which had been specially fitted out for the important service of laying special minefields off remoter parts of the coastline of the british isles. early in october, , i landed at the south of norway, and i zigzagged my way northwards on all kinds of craft that cruised about the thousands of fjords and islands, inquiring as unobservantly and disinterestedly as circumstances would admit in the hope of picking up some information which might lead me to the object of my search. it was believed that these pests of the seas were using unknown fjords as hiding-places, and taking advantage of the double neutral routes of the inner and outer passage of the west coast of norway to cover their coming and their going from germany to the icelandic coast, whence they dropped down upon the british isles suddenly and unexpectedly, laid their dangerous batches of eggs, and returned the same way as they came. i had travelled almost miles northward, and i was quite convinced that no german mine-layer was concealed anywhere in that distance. many reports i gathered of german war and other vessels of various rig and shape taking advantage of the neutral waterways; but they had all been under steam. i had nearly reached the arctic circle, and i meant going north to hammerfest, and even beyond, if the smallest clue showed itself. i was stopped in the town of t----, because there was a german vessel of some mystery which had been lying there quite a while. i wanted to learn more about her, so i lingered. she was a steamer of several thousand tons burden and loaded with coal. in spite of her disguised condition, she had been chased into neutral waters by english warships. having remained over her allotted interval of time she became interned; but she was under suspicion and watched night and day by interested parties. this suspicion was accentuated by the fact that a strong head of steam was always kept up in her engine-room. why? her name was s.s. _brandenberg_, and it was openly whispered that she probably had on board supplies for submarines concealed under her coal. the second night after my arrival, the proprietor of my hotel exhibited much friendliness towards me. beside volunteering a considerable amount of interesting information about the war, germany, and the germans, he commented on "the great scandal," as he referred to it, that an english consul at s---- was allowed to pocket hundreds of thousands of kroner by supplying the germans with herrings whilst they were at war with the country he actually represented. he added, "it is no secret, the whole country is talking about it, and every man, woman, and child considers it disgraceful." continuing a running fire of generalities, he went on to state that he had several german spies stopping at his hotel, and one who was english. he said he was quite sure about this, because they all seemed to try to watch each other, whilst the police and the military watched them. "that gentleman over there with the sandy moustache, sitting at a table in the corner by himself, is the english spy," he said, as we stood in a secluded part of the _salle à manger_. "he goes out every night about o'clock and does not return until breakfast-time. he sits in railway trucks and woodstacks on the quays and other queer places, watching the _brandenberg_. he thinks no one knows, but we all know. when he comes back in the morning, hints are dropped about amorous wanderings, and what 'wonderful dogs with the ladies some men are to be sure.' you see, he feels flattered in two ways, whilst we 'laugh in the trouser,' as you english sometimes say. that man at the other end of the hall, with the military bearing, is a german spy, and so are the two at the middle table. some of my servants draw money from all sides. they report to me a great deal. perhaps a great deal more they keep to themselves. however, it seems to be good business for all of us, in spite of added and extra war burdens and taxes. it's a peculiar game on the whole, yet it's interesting." i wondered why the proprietor should be so open with his confidences. it was probably the old, old feint--a luring to draw to attract, or extract, reciprocal advances. it was the proprietor's policy to sympathise and tender make-believe unanimity and agreement with all his guests; to humour all their troubles, whims, or fancies, so that all believed him to be their particular friend and supporter. it was the backbone of his business, which, needless to add, was a thriving and lucrative one. within twenty-four hours of arrival i instinctively felt and knew that i, too, had been labelled as a suspect. i was being watched and followed. immediate action to checkmate this was perhaps advisable. i knew personally the individual heads of some of the large business firms in the town and its neighbourhood. i had acted legally for or against several of them in england, in matters concerning the expenditure of thousands of pounds. it would be simple to raise imaginary or other business issues. i mentally determined that it should be done without delay. when next i left the hotel a couple of the wealthiest local traders called shortly afterwards to inquire for me. they expressed annoyance at my absence and sought the proprietor. that gentleman, at their request, sent out the hotel porter and a page to visit the main streets, the barbers' shops, the post-office, and other possible places wherein i might be met with. whilst they were chafing outwardly in their impatience, they casually mentioned to the proprietor that i was one of the best-known continental lawyers in london, from gibraltar to hammerfest; that i had come over specially to transact some important business with which they were indirectly connected and which might detain me in the country some considerable period, and that i was a guest worthy of consideration. an hour later i returned. i was all apologies for my absence. i had called at the respective offices of my visitors and i had found them out. the proprietor bustled away with the news, by which he probably ingratiated himself a little further into the confidence of other guests of different nationality. subsequent events proved that my ruse had for the time being worked successfully against my opponents, although the local authorities, who had known me and of me for many years past, may have entertained their own surmises concerning my advent at that particular place and at that particular period of the world's history. next day was blustering and stormy. snowflakes fell thick in large globules in the streets, making them almost impassable to traffic; yet a silent and unobtrusive man ploughed his way to the hotel soon after daylight, carrying interesting news. the german auxiliary fast cruiser _berlin_ had been seen entering the fjord. this was indeed important. the news must at any cost be transmitted home, and at the earliest possible moment. it appeared that the cruiser, a vessel of some , tons, armed with eight to a dozen quick-firing guns and other equipment, had, under her enormously powerful engines, and after disposing of her cargo of mines, laid a course northwards well into the region of floating ice, thus outwitting the vigilance of the english patrol boats. taking the fullest advantage of the awful weather and frequent snowstorms, she had slipped unobserved through the tortuous entrances and difficult channels of the norwegian coast; past the guard fortresses at ----; past the guardships; and finally dropped her anchor unchallenged and unhindered under the windows of the town of ----, which half encircles one of the most coveted harbours in all europe. it was a marvellous feat of navigation, but then it is an open secret that members of the german navy know the ins and outs of the norwegian fjords even better than norwegians do themselves. they have also much better charts; both of which facts they proved in a startling manner in their manoeuvres before the war. it is another open secret that at the german war office, in the wilhelmstrasse, berlin, was kept a complete series of the ordnance maps of england, brought fully up-to-date by secret surveys, which gave detail and information that our maps do not show and which our war office is probably quite unacquainted with. i was never more astonished in my life, although i had the sense to conceal it, than when an alleged german commercial traveller with whom i had been travelling somewhere in finland sketched, in order to illustrate an argument, a correct plan of a remote part of the east coast of england with which i was very well acquainted. on this sketch the aforesaid traveller proceeded to delineate fords to streams and hidden roadways, the existence of which most of those even who had dwelt all their lives in the parishes affected had either forgotten or never knew about. to return to the subject. the long-lost _berlin_ had been run to ground. the burning question of the moment was whether she would face the music and make a bolt for the fatherland or whether she would remain where she was and become interned. a collection of british cruisers outside probably caused her to elect the latter course. so it was up to me, somehow or other, to try and ferret out all i could relating to her recent voyage. but how? the chief of the british secret service is never interested in detail. to him the most interesting particulars, showing how an objective is attained, are irritating and merely so much waste of time. his requirements and mind centre only round concrete results, congealed into the fewest possible number of words. whilst interviews in his office are limited almost to grudgingly-given minutes. it is undoubtedly prudent and wise to draw a bough over my innumerable snow-trails in order to obliterate the footprints of my tortuous wanderings during the days that followed. suffice to say that, night and day, awake or dreaming, the subject never left my thoughts, whilst i schemed and invented possible and impossible plans, until at last one day chance supplied the missing link. meanwhile side issues were not wanting. german agents had traced the hotel proprietor's show-english-spy to his nightly lair in the woodstacks. they naturally attached an unknown importance to what they believed to be his anxiety concerning the safety of these piles of innocent timber. they appeared to assume that this particular wood--worth possibly somewhere about £ , --was considered of great value to the english government. accordingly they planned, by contra espionage, to lure the nightly watcher in another direction. as soon as his presence was thus temporarily removed they promptly fired the pile, which job was so thoroughly well done that hardly a plank could be salved from the flames. having been confidentially told that i was suspected of being an english s.s. agent, i promptly called up on the telephone the head of the department which controlled these matters, and invited him to lunch. fortunately i knew him well and could do so. it was humorous that whilst i was doing this the gentleman in question happened to be attending a small committee meeting which was, at the moment, discussing my _bona fides_, and the somewhat important personage called for raised unavailing protests at being compelled to answer my insistent call, only to learn of the unimportant invitation to himself from the actual suspect whose presence was then under discussion and whom it was part of his duty to be accountable for. i could not help subsequently smiling when i was privately informed by another member of the committee that the old colonel had returned from the telephone, very red in the face, and swearing audibly about that "d--d impudent mad-brained englishman who was chasing him about, instead of waiting to be properly chased," or its equivalent in words in his own language. in a snug creek, away from the busy waterways and the ever-moving industry of the heavily overloaded quays, was securely moored and laid up for the winter a palatial pleasure yacht, belonging to a well-known russian sugar queen of reputed fabulous wealth. her captain and crew were objects of interest to all. i considered it politic to ingratiate myself with the crew with a view to future possibilities. in course of time, certain ladies of unknown origin appeared at various hotels in the town and its environs. they possessed youth, beauty, vivacity of spirit, charm of manner, and apparently plenty of ready money to add to their attraction and graces. they had friends who soon called, or met them at or away from their hotels. from information received and from personal observation, i deemed it expedient to push myself forward into this small but somewhat exclusive circle, although it required the utmost ingenuity to mix with the members of these various circles whilst in constant touch with the chief residents of the town without permitting one group to gain knowledge of my intimacy with other groups. by judicious expenditure in hospitality and a free hand with small gifts, i was able to draw into my confidences half a dozen acquaintances whom i could trust to render any assistance i might perhaps at some time require. meanwhile i was ostensibly engaged in legal matters. clients called with masses of papers and remained closeted with me for hours. often they remained for meals, and then the choicest of wines were ordered, and the last doubts the proprietor of the hotel might have entertained vanished. within a week or ten days an accurate report was secretly handed to me of the exact number, nationality, and rating of every man on board the enemy vessel. it also contained addenda giving the name and business of every visitor thereto, and the duration of each visit; this afforded matter for cogitation, reflection, and thought. my next requirement was a roughly summed-up estimate of the characteristics of each person i designated, with all possible information and detail concerning their believed weaknesses, whims, fancies, hobbies, ambitions, or failings, which i persisted in procuring concerning every person i could on the before-mentioned list. this was a long and more difficult task. pride, conceit, alcohol, women, and money figured against one or the other. the two former would seem the easiest to work upon, but in the end it was the latter which affected the _débàcle_. having laid well my plans, which promised almost certain successful results, it was advisable for me to depart from the town and district in order that matters might be permitted to operate successfully without any possible chance of failure through some remote suspicion being hatched and developed from my presence. it was far better for me to watch from a distance, to observe the effects of palm-oil penetrate deeper and yet deeper, until that which i was most anxious to get hold of, namely, material extracts from the log of the recent voyage of this important vessel, had been brought ashore and communicated; and, what was most important of all, the exact number of mines she had laid in british waters, with precise latitude and longitude of such laying. it was expensive, but it was worth the outlay many times over. it would have been undoubtedly a very great surprise indeed to the kultured hun sea-pirates, had they only known how their most jealously-guarded secrets were thus so easily opened up. when in england some months after this information had been communicated, i had an opportunity of interviewing some officers and members of the crews on board various minesweeping vessels which had been employed to remove these pests from navigable waters. they were men engaged to harvest what the _berlin_ was alleged to have sown near tory island, which lies off the north-west coast of ireland, and not far from the all-important loch swilly. the first and second fleet sent there to act upon the information which had been collected in the manner hereinbefore described seem to have returned to their respective bases and reported there were no mines to be found. but whilst those in authority were debating or doubting the accuracy of the original information collected abroad, proof positive soon convinced them. vessel after vessel was reported sunk by mine contact, including the new leviathan, h.m.s. _audacious_, which awful disaster was religiously hushed up and kept away from the ken of the english nation. american papers, however, exhibited photos of the wreck and rescues which were freely copied by international journals, whilst germany knew all about it from the first. the third fleet of mine-sweepers, eventually sent to tory island with instructions to sweep the same area as at first directed but at a greater depth, gathered in about to large mines out of the said to have been sown there. but this was after far too many casualties had been reported, and much shipping, with valuable lives, had been lost to great britain. although at times i am notoriously loquacious, i can also be a deep thinker. sometimes when alone during those dark days in the solitude of deep forests, or perched upon some bleak promontory jutting out into northern seas and watching over the angry waters beneath me, i would sit for hours lost in meditation turning over in my mind again and again passing events, weighing the possibilities, probabilities, alleged diplomatic mistakes and indiscretions; social upheavals, labour strikes, absurd optimism of a section of the press; false security created by too rigid censorship; political dangers from continued vote-angling and pandering to obvious german agitation amongst workmen and miners; continued short-sighted political revenge upon english landowners for the suppression rather than encouragement of any increased user of the land towards food production; contradictions which were irreconcilable; on the one hand enormous and useless expenditures, on the other unparalleled meanness and littleness; the clinging to fatal fallacies by refusing conscription; the insistence with which old and admittedly absolutely incompetent officials were kept in office; refusals to find places--even honorary ones--for admittedly first-class younger volunteers from our colonies; muddle upon muddle; waste upon waste; mistake upon mistake; yet the glorious gallantry and irrepressible loyalty and patriotism of britisher units and her allies on land and sea seemed to be pulling everything through. having regard to the thirty years' preparation of germany and the utter unpreparedness of england, a miracle seemed in the process of evolution. would the nations involved cease their strife owing to absolute exhaustion and attrition? would the entente eventually achieve full consummation of its hopes, so devoutly to be wished? or was the sequel foreshadowed by the late lord tennyson: "chaos, cosmos! cosmos, chaos! who can tell how all will end? read the wide world's annals, you, and take their wisdom for your friend; hope the best, but hold the present fatal daughter of the past, shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that the hour will last." chapter vi deposing a rival retreat and would-be rest--wintry weather in the north sea--the secret message--rival's removal commanded forthwith--seemingly impossible proposition--seeking one's colleagues--solving the riddle--preparing the trap--the lonely sentry and the mysterious boatman capture, arrest, search and find--the incriminating document--instant deportation--exultation--next, please. after a coup of importance has been successfully accomplished, it is sometimes advisable for a secret service agent to betake himself to a quiet, secluded place where his identity and his activities are least likely to be known, or even suspected. towards christmas, in the first year of the war, i found myself in such a position; my work for some weeks past had been not only exceedingly strenuous, but, it was gratifying to remember, it had also been successful. perhaps luck had unduly favoured me. anyway, i knew quite enough of the enemy to be only too well assured that he would stop at nothing to get, or to attempt to get, even with me if he possibly could. i also thoroughly understood it was advisable for more reasons than one that i should take a well-earned rest, a few days breathing-space until further demands were made upon my individual efforts. thus it was i turned my face towards a lonely, secluded little haven snugly concealed in an inner fjord of the norwegian coast where i intended to sleep and dream and sink all traces of my existence on earth for a few brief days at least. december, , in northern seas was a month of record storms and multitudinous wrecks. the daily life of those unfortunates whose duties took them there, or compelled them to navigate, was unenviable in the extreme. ice, which accumulated and increased in its envelopment hourly, not only made decks doubly dangerous, but, unless removed from rails, ropes, deckhouses, and other parts of a ship at periodical intervals might possibly threaten worse disaster than the wrecks and sunken rocks around. fogs, snowstorms, floating mines, mountainous seas, submerged hulks and treacherous shoals, coupled with the long, long winter nights, were enemies more to be feared than the cruel hun. a few weeks of this work would try any man; it had been more than enough for me, a landsman whose soul never yearned for the life of a sailor. the relief at hearing the cranky, ought-to-have-been-long-ago-condemned old packet, rejoicing in the high-sounding name of some forgotten heathen god, bump and scrape and groan against the piling of the quay at my quiet sleepy little scandinavian seaport, was a joy not to be expressed in words. to me who had roughed it, under strenuous conditions, the coarse fare and the still coarser bed-linen on even a flea-smothered couch seemed valhalla adorned. it was rest. it was peace. it was contentment. it naturally followed that it was supreme happiness for the immediate moment. no shack, cottage, or villa in these northern parts runs to window curtains. darkness comes early in the afternoon. daylight follows late in the morning, varying in time in accordance with latitude. sleep, the greatest blessing on earth, after such fatigues and endurance would be long and profound. there was no reason to arise early. to trust to nature's call with the sun would probably mean somewhere about a.m. or later. it was, of course, necessary for me to convey to headquarters the information of my whereabouts, which duty performed, the luxuries and enjoyments at hand were embraced by me with limitless indulgence. it was late next day when a frowsy-haired fishwife brought my _café au lait_, also news that i was wanted. i was not surprised. a secret service agent is never allowed to rest. holidays, quietude, peace, or enjoyment are words not known in his vocabulary. anyone envying those in the service should first contemplate that its units are looked upon as mere chattels of little worth, easily to be replaced should accident or machination cause them to fall by the way or to be removed to a better land. such patriots must sink all home-ties, business relationships, pleasures, pains, and personal thoughts for the one and only object--to achieve the seemingly impossible. outside it was snowing in big, massive flakes, which added many inches in a few hours to the deep covering already settled on the solidly-frozen earth. it was biting cold, but i had to face it. struggling along as best i could against the unkind elements, i made three doubles and a walk back to test whether any possible observer took interest in my movements, such a precaution being always advisable after advent on fresh ground. then, slipping up an unfrequented pathway, i gained the shelter of another fisherman's hut, where an enthusiastic welcome from numerous chubby-faced bairns awaited me. it's a good rule in life to remember the little ones. every decent-minded parent worships his or her children. if a home possess none, then affections are often centred on some four-footed animal. make a fuss over these and a weakness in the hardest heart is at once touched. my annual chocolate bill averaged many pounds, whilst it has returned to me tenfold its value in the pleasure created. not a penny of such outlay could be grudged. a good friend was awaiting my arrival. he had a small package, which had come to hand shortly before. he was one of those open-hearted, unsuspecting innocents who led the simple life and believed ill of no man. i wished him to continue to hold his good opinions, particularly regarding myself. in murmuring my thanks for the parcel, i hazarded the supposition that it probably contained some long-sought smokes. on opening it before his eyes, so to speak, there was disclosed a tin of pipe tobacco and a bundle of cigars, which were at once sampled. sherlock holmes would probably have noticed that one, and one cigar only, had had its smoking-end bitten off. further, that that particular cigar was not selected by me, owing perhaps--perhaps not--to the possibility of its having already been tested in a stranger's mouth. be that as it may, after an hour's small talk (one must never be at all impatient in scandinavia), i took my departure and carried the precious tobacco away with me. a careful dissection of the bitten cigar, in the seclusion of my own quarters, brought to light a scrap of paper. a pocket glass helped me to decipher the mystic signs, the interpretation whereof read as follows: "karl von s----, a german artillery officer, married to a native of scandinavia, is posing as a convalescent consumptive and has been some time in a private villa on the island of ----. he is much too friendly with the wireless operator there, also the garrison officers. advisable that he be removed at once. you must do it. act promptly." now i was a matter of miles' travel from the _locus in quo_. it was in the immediate neighbourhood of large army reserves and was also much frequented by warships and naval men. three times i reread the message in order to memorise it, then i burnt it to ashes. "he must be removed at once. you must do it." now it is very easy to sit in an office and give commands, right and left, for this and for that, or for anything which strikes the fancy. but it's altogether a different proposition to find oneself in the shoes of the commanded one. i soon began to feel worried. the thought of the seeming impossibility of the carrying out of the order was annoying. i lit cigar after cigar, as i lay on the couch with closed eyes; i smoked, and thought, and scratched for an indefinite period; until my all too lively stable companions effectually did for me what i was so vainly racking my brains to find some way of bringing about with regard to another. two hours' brisk walk in the open air did not solve the problem. so i despatched a message to a colleague, n. p., who was then on the russian frontier, informing him that we must meet immediately, each coming half-way towards the other. n. p. knew that i should never trouble him over trifles, and, good fellow that he was, he answered the call without delay. we met at a frontier town, within a day or so of the receipt of original instructions. when i explained the problem and how the more i had thought it over the further its solution seemed to fade away, n. p. naturally wanted to know why i had summoned him to meet me. "that is easy, my dear nixie," i exclaimed; "you are without doubt the cleverest man in the service. you speak many tongues. you are a garrison artillery staff officer. what better material could anyone wish for to help unravel a proposition like this? he must be removed at once. you must do it." "not me, my boy. that won't come off. it's your job, and i would not deprive you of the honour and glory of it for worlds." "ah, nixie, my dear fellow, we may get the jobs, but all the honour and glory is appropriated by the gentlemen who remain at home. i think we both appreciate that point; but what i want to debate with you are possibilities, actualities, and probabilities. if either of us, for example, were on a small island and we received a warning that a german had had orders to shift us--what would you fear most?" "i should fear nothing." "i don't mean it that way. what i mean is, wherein would you be most careful, or most on your guard?" "he would not get a dog's chance with me, anyway," snapped n. p. then he added in a petulant tone, "i want some more whiskey and another cigar. it helps one to think better." "how about your line of communications?" i queried. "no living soul would ever get hold of mine," nixie replied. "of course not; but don't you see it's a danger, it's a weak spot that can be shot at." "no, i don't," said nixie, stretching himself at full length on the sofa until it creaked again and again. i was lying on a bed, and the room was in darkness. one can think better in the dark. there is no counter-attraction for the sense of sight to divert any stray thought from the objective in being. the brain becomes more active and more concentrative accordingly. "if you flatter yourself you can touch his lines of communication--after he has been established some time, as the message says, you are apt to get your fingers burnt in the trying. won't do, jim, my boy. try and think of something else." "bide a wee. don't you see where we are drifting to? my idea is that we don't try to touch him at all, but that _we make a line of communication in order to be able to break it_. twiggez vous?" a short silence ensued, which nixie broke, in an emphasised drawling tone: "you diabolical devil! you mean you will send a note to him which you will take good care is intercepted before he gets it, and in such a manner that the local authorities will do the rest to complete the _coup de grâce_." "that's my suggestion," i exclaimed in a deliberate tone. "also that's where you come in. you, being a garrison expert, will weave the strands and splice the knot of rope that will eventually hang him. think it out. ponder over how it will work." for a long time we both smoked in silence, and we smoked in the dark, which somehow seems entirely different from smoking when one can see the blue clouds drifting. how long the interval lasted neither of us could tell. it seemed an age. then nixie pixie demanded lights up. he wanted to get on with the business. he was keenly interested. his instincts foretold success, and, what was far sweeter to both of us, we imagined one more dictatorial militarist would shortly be driven back to stew in the kultured juice of teutonic concentrated cruelties, in the fatherland. with lights burning and pens and papers before us, we soon filled in necessary details of the plan of campaign; chuckling the while in anticipatory satisfaction at the debacle to come. before dawn broke on the day following we had drifted apart; as silent shadows of the night we flitted to and from our respective destinations, whilst the world slept, and no watchman had observed our coming or our going. nixie was away to the westward by train, whilst i followed the currents of the ever-restless sea. * * * * * night and day i travelled, in desperate haste. i journeyed to the northern frontier of germany, to a small, uninviting place on the map, where i had a colleague working, who for many years had lived in germany and who had only crossed the frontier a short time prior to the declaration of war. this english gentleman was perfectly acquainted with both high and low prussian. in a matter of this kind, where straws had to be grasped at and relied upon, it was essential to any hope of success to carry out every minute detail with the greatest accuracy. i was anxious to have a certain message which i had drafted en route translated into accurate and perfect high german. i did not feel confident to do this myself, hence my present mission. i hunted up my colleague, who entered enthusiastically upon the work, and immediately after its completion i journeyed away again to a small sleepy hamlet not far removed from the nearest point on the mainland contiguous to the island in question. i covered several hundreds of miles during the four days these journeys occupied my attention. to carry out the plan which i had devolved i secured the necessary materials at places where no suspicion was likely to be aroused. they were simple in themselves: an etching pen, some fine, thin foreign correspondence paper, some oil-silk and a small tin phial. the message, which will be disclosed later, was most carefully written in german characters under a magnifying glass, which latter i always carry. it was then rolled up, carefully protected by an outer covering of oil-silk and inserted into a tin phial. the next steps in the plot to remove this obnoxious german officer from the security of his stronghold, which certain high officials were convinced he was using to contravene the laws of hospitality, trust, and friendship, were carried out by another. the reason for this should be obvious. the risk was nothing in itself, but it was a matter of importance that i should not be implicated, either directly or indirectly, with such a matter, so that my own chances for further activity in the cause of my country might not be endangered. i remember the old adage, "sauce for the goose is equally good sauce for the gander." i therefore arranged matters down to the smallest details, impressing every point upon my only too willing assistant, and then i quickly took my departure to a place many, many miles away from the locality in question, there to await with impatient interest the report i was promised, which should tell me whether the scheme attempted had succeeded or proved a disappointing fiasco. i had not long to wait. within three days a message was flashed to me. i visualise events as i believe they happened. on the never-to-be-forgotten day a certain sentry was pacing a rocky promontory on a lonely island overlooking lonely waters. in spite of its uninviting outward appearance this island was a place of the utmost importance, because it guarded the watergate to many a european capital. the sentry was impatient. it was growing dark. he was cold and hungry, and none too pleased at his job; besides, he imagined the relief guard was late. perhaps it was. whilst in this uneasy frame of mind a small sailing-boat hove into sight. she was hugging the shore, or rather the rocky cliffs of which the shore consisted. when within a few hundred yards of the sentry's position, the mast and sail were taken down and stowed, and the boatman proceeded to row. the sentry was interested. as the boat approached nearer to his position it disappeared into a small alcove, formed by overhanging cliffs, and he saw it no more. perhaps it was a coincidence that this happened just a quarter of an hour before the sentry should be relieved. but in that fifteen minutes he had ample time to work himself into a high pitch of excitement. the gloaming had increased. he was straining his eyes into the coming night when the sergeant with the relief arrived. a quick whispered report caused double guards to be mounted, men to be sent to cover possible lines of retreat, and a messenger to be despatched for assistance on the water. these precautions were efficient and effective. the mysterious boatman was captured. it was not known whether he was too frightened, or too unintelligent, or too intoxicated to give a satisfactory account of his movements, but in a parcel concealed under odd bits of rope and sailcloth was a dead codfish addressed to herr k. v. s. whilst the captured one was meditating under lock and key, the boat and its contents were minutely examined. nothing unusual had been found on the prisoner, nothing else had been found in the boat. the cod-fish was ordered to be dissected, when, lo and behold! a small metal tube was extracted from the gullet. inside this, tightly rolled and wrapped in oil-silk, was a small piece of thin foreign correspondence paper, which, on being held up to the light, revealed hieroglyphics in the smallest of german characters imaginable. subsequent investigation and examination elicited that the boatman had agreed to deliver the parcel personally to herr k. von s---- at a certain place, and at a certain hour in the evening, for which he had received a generous sum of money. the advisability of remaining in the alcove until dark to prevent the military from holding him up, or prying into his parcel, had been suggested to him by his employer, who was quite a stranger to him. he had never seen him until two hours before he had arranged to bring the parcel along; he had assured him it was all right. it was only an act of kindness to a sick man. there could be no harm done by it. a thin story indeed, but the fishermen of northern seas are a confiding, unsuspecting, innocent race. the letter proved to be written in prussian or high german. it required a good magnifying glass to decipher it. it was highly technical in its terms, and was evidently composed by a thoroughly expert _garrison artillery officer_. it ran somewhat as follows: . you say we can now communicate with you through more open channels but we doubt this and fear taking any avoidable risk. . on the plans you sent us you omitted to mark the ranges of the guns numbered , , and . . the exact location of the magazine was not clearly defined. . what are the reliefs? give exact detail. . ascertain exact amounts of ammunition at present stored, with full capacity for added reserves. . advise estimated sum to cover wireless operators' requirements for a year. ........................................ ........................................ ........................................ . next time cut a larger portion off the dorsal fin, as your last message was nearly missed through difficulty in identification. the boatman, who was a local man and innocent enough, was lectured and frightened half out of his wits, and finally permitted to go. captain karl von s---- with his wife and family were given twelve short hours to clear the country, once and for all, with peremptory orders never to set foot in it again. probably he is wondering to this day what earthly reason could have instigated such a decisive and unmistakably severe command. the inhabitants on the island cannot yet understand why no live fish of any description, nor dead fish which had not been split open from head to tail, were permitted to be imported or exported, whether destined for private consumption or for other uses. many miles away from the island in question a telegraph official a few days later in a small town carefully scrutinised an innocently worded message which was handed in at his office shortly after these stirring events had occurred. it was, however, permitted to pass and in due course its recipient, my headquarters department, interpreted its hidden meaning. it ran: "the shoddy article submitted and marked k. v. s. has been returned as not up to sample and unworthy of retention. next please!--jim." chapter vii fighting german agents with faked weapons danger warning--disguised teutons--hair tests--observation from without--clever female guard--deported hun agents--too many wrecks--boot change trick--flight--patience unrewarded--night work at the docks--a sudden attack--odds of three to one--pipe-faking for make-believe revolver--a stern chase--american ruse baffles pursuers--the sanctuary of conviviality. the sudden transportation and exile of an alleged invalid german officer back to the home of his fathers had been a distinct secret score for the british foreign secret service intelligence department, although probably no one was aware of this except those in the innermost circles of the service of the two countries directly concerned. as a necessary precaution for my own safety i had very discreetly removed myself some hundreds of miles in another direction as soon as it was certain that my trap had been properly sprung. with my mind concentrated on other matters i had almost forgotten the episode, when a whisper echoed and re-echoed from the south that the full fury of the northern german espionage bureau had been invoked upon my fortunate or unfortunate head, and that i must beware of a certain baron nordenpligt,[ ] which irate teuton had started hot on my trail, vowing the direst vengeance imaginable. "nordenpligt" in english means "the north duty or obligation," and i was at no loss to comprehend the full force of the hinted warning thus so auspiciously conveyed to me. whilst musing over events under the benign influence of my usual black cigar, some stir became apparent in the entrance hall of the hotel at which i was then stopping. several new-comers had arrived. one very fat lady appeared over-concerned regarding the handling of her many belongings. a wheezy, consumptive-looking weakling of humanity was trying to assist her. most probably he would have been crushed under an iron-bound trunk which a porter was lowering from the roof of the hotel bus had not another traveller, seeing the danger, rushed forward to his assistance. as he did so he involuntarily ejaculated the short exclamation, "mein gott!" my ears tingled at once. the teutonic oath had given away the nationality of this individual, at all events. it became my immediate business to ascertain who he was, and what his business might be. without a moment's hesitation i also sprang to the rescue. the result of too many persons concerning themselves with the matters of one led to a natural tangle and considerable jostling in which the german gentleman lost his pince-nez. in stopping to recover them a leather case fell from his inside breast pocket. but before he could reach it i had anticipated his desire, picked up the article in question, and handed it to its owner. in so doing i observed that on one corner was an embossed gold coronet and monogram, in which the letter "n" was prominent. my room was on the first floor. i had registered my occupation as that of a fish merchant of scandinavian origin, which, on a strict investigation, might have been held not too remote. the german baron, for such he undoubtedly was, had registered as a commercial traveller from an inland town in denmark, whilst he obviously knew the language of that country as well as he did his own. it was ominous that he subsequently contrived to secure a bedroom adjoining mine, whilst the fat lady sandwiched herself into possession of another apartment which was situated on the other side. after supper i placed three hair tests on my belongings, and lighting the inevitable weed strolled out to give matters a chance to develop. at the back of the hotel was a large heap of moss-bedecked boulders, behind which was a rocky hill, in the crevasses and hollows of which some scant vegetation had collected and a few scraggy fir-trees formed an arboreal retreat where in the summer months loiterers could sit and enjoy the view with the added pleasure of light refreshments from the hotel. this arbour commanded a full view of the windows of the back rooms, the centre one of which was for the time being in my occupation. the hair test is a useful expedient for gauging the inquisitiveness or prying proclivities of one's immediate neighbours. it is affixed by tension from two notches, or with the aid of a little wax. either method will be found equally efficacious. human hairs a few inches in length are easily procurable; a single one is practically invisible to the naked eye, and a slight strain will snap it. if cunningly placed across the two covers of a box, on the lid of a box, over an unlocked bag, trunk, suit-case or elsewhere, few paul prys would ever dream of suspecting its presence, and the precaution inevitably tells its own tale. a very clever investigator would probably be on the lookout for anything of this kind, but an equally clever actor would so place at least one of his precaution signals that it would be impossible to touch the object it protected without a break or disturbance sufficient to notice. when night fell it was dark, cold, and raw, with a nasty wind blowing, and i found the draughty arbour none too cosy for my liking, but i stayed there for upwards of an hour in the belief that something was going to turn up. meanwhile half a gale whistled through leafless branches and howled round the crevasses and protuberances of the rocky background. just as i was on the point of quitting i observed a faint flicker of light upon the blind of my room, and i knew that evil agents were abroad. an attempt to ascend the stairway behind a couple of other visitors whereby i could gain my apartment unobserved was frustrated by the stout lady before mentioned. she, by an extraordinary coincidence, started to come downstairs just as my foot had gained the last step of the ascent. in her haste she jostled first one and then the other of the gentlemen meeting her, for which she apologised most profusely and in a loud, jovial, bantering manner. i leaned against the wall and laughed. it was my custom to take everything as it came, never to meet trouble half-way by worrying, and even to attempt the credit of gaining happiness under almost impossible conditions. in the present instance the fortune of war favoured me, although conditions were adverse. a large mirror hung upon the landing, the reflection field of which embraced wide angles. i, happening to glance upwards and beyond the little pleasantries going on above, observed a shadow darken the surface of the glass, but the noise made by the merry-makers on the stairhead prevented any slighter sounds from being heard. later on, when i had entered and was alone within the privacy of my own apartment, examining the test traps at my leisure, all possible doubt of an interest having been taken in my belongings was removed. what would happen next? the veiled secret warning that had been given me portended mischief. it was hardly reasonable to suppose one's natural enemy would take a knock-down blow without reprisals. they were more than hinted at in the urgent message i had received. i was not deceived for one moment. i felt myself within the claws of the pincers and it was up to me to wriggle out before they could be closed. there must be no hesitation, no delay, and no "wait and see" about my decisions. i must quit, and that at once, or the worst might befall. having supped in the restaurant common to all guests of the hostelry, i retired early, but instead of undressing i lay upon the outside of the bed and smoked and read until the early hours of the morning, between whiles turning over many matters of more or less moment in my mind. i remembered that the latest ejected one from that hospitable country was by no means the only one who had unceremoniously been pushed out by reason of information which had reached the authorities in a roundabout untraceable way. the origin had never come to light, but the inmates of koenigergratzerstrasse no. probably had a shrewd suspicion whom they could credit for the attention. s---- was another very active german agent who had recently been expelled the country; he returned almost immediately under another name and disguise. he successfully crossed the frontier and would in all probability have escaped identification had not certain strings been pulled whereby he was located and ejected again, within forty-eight hours of his arrival. most annoying to him, of course, but then these small matters had of necessity to be attended to. it was unpleasant to remember that the number of wrecks along the coast was abnormal. the majority of these unfortunate vessels were or had been cargo carriers to germany. perhaps it was a just retribution that they should sink or encounter disaster preventing their further assistance to direct acts of barbarism by the mad dogs of europe. be that as it may, germans in that particular neighbourhood would hardly have agreed with any such sentiments; nor were they sympathetic towards the invective which was raised by the local police and others interested--although breathed _sub rosa_--against fellow-countrymen of theirs who were suspected of having fired several vast timber-stacks supposed to have been sold to england. taking one consideration with another no love was lost between travellers from england and germany. at a.m., as the silent corridors of the hotel were awakened by the cuckoos from a swiss-made clock on the landing, i stealthily emerged from my apartment. tiptoeing along past several of the adjoining bedrooms, i changed the boots standing outside their respective doors, placing large for small and _vice versâ_. but one pair i selected from the extreme end of the corridor as being as nearly as i could judge a fair match in size to my own. these i brought along, and not being an obstinate, blind-to-all-home-principle-free-trade britisher, i dumped them down outside my own door. it should have become obvious to the reader that i was contemplating my departure. there had been former occasions when i had been compelled to leave my own boots behind me, whereby thoughtful hotel attendants and others had been deceived into believing me to be a very late riser, and i had been thereby enabled to cover many a league before the simple deception had been exposed. but on the occasion in question, in the course of my calm, contemplative meditations upon the bed, i had evolved the comforting conclusion that it would be better far to borrow the foot-gear of some other traveller in order to carry into effect my playful little deception, rather than sacrifice any more boots of my own. the ruse would assuredly work equally as well, whilst past experiences had taught me that it was a much easier matter to remove a pair of boots from a neighbouring doorway than to leave my own behind, necessitating the trouble and expense of their subsequent replacement. "shooting the moon" in this manner is a pastime which i may add is not usual with me, but there are occasions in the career of everyone when discretion and retirement are undoubtedly the better part of valour. next morning i was chuckling to myself at about o'clock, and picturing the confusion and the language likely to be used by the parties mostly concerned, at the small hotel i had quitted so suddenly overnight. what a sell it would be to his excellency the baron to find that his bird had once more flown, and what a head-aching task he would have of it if he tried to trail his quarry indian fashion instead of relying upon the surer and less worrying methods known to the secret service agents of all nations. at least i knew i was safe for another week certain, and much could be done in that time. so i journeyed away in an exulting frame of mind to a colleague who i knew had some very interesting investigations which he was following up in the neighbourhood of one of the largest and most important docks on the baltic sea. within a couple of hours of my arrival i was in harness again. some important particulars from the manifest and bills of lading of a big steamer were wanted. the captain was a convivial soul with a great weakness for sport of all kinds; and it was suggested that i, being a sportsman myself, might be able to succeed in drawing him, although so far no one else had been able to do so. a bottle of whiskey and a bundle of cigars were calculated to be sufficient to move the information required. but they failed. patience and perseverance rarely fail. on this occasion both seemed useless. from p.m. until a.m., twelve solid hours, i sat listening, talking, complimenting, criticising, flattering, cajoling, and arguing in such manner that at first i entirely disagreed, then allowed myself to be talked round to absolute approval. in short, no artifice that calculated cunning could suggest was omitted, yet results proved fruitless. thus at a.m. i was forced to abandon my objective of the day, and i agreed it was time to turn in. perhaps the disappointment of failing to achieve a purpose influenced my judgment. perhaps it was the weather. perhaps it was the mellowing effects of some decent whiskey which made me feel devil-may-care and careless. anyhow, i was foolish in the extreme not to have accepted the proffered and pressed invitation of a berth on board the ship i was then visiting in preference to the more or less dangerous passage of the docks which was my only alternative. that there was any real danger never entered my head. had it done so it would probably have made little difference, excepting that i might have borrowed a stick, or some weapon of defence. it was not until i was actually cornered that i remembered i had left my revolver at home. the incident was so sudden there was no time to think. spontaneous action alone was capable of saving what might have proved a remarkably awkward position. hanging on to a rope guide i slid down the gangway which was covered some inches thick with a coating of ice. groping a pathway as best i could across the quay in the dark, amongst innumerable stacks of freighted goods and merchandise of every description, was no easy matter. nor were my difficulties lessened by a snowstorm which raged at the time. passing between some sheds, and stack after stack of cotton bales, destined for the land of barbaric "kultur," i made my way towards the only faint glimmering light which flickered its bilious rays from the one solitary lamp-post in that immediate neighbourhood. just as i reached it i heard a voice. at the same time i observed two shadows which seemed to appear and disappear somewhere near the piles of cotton. no complete sentence reached my ears, only two words, "das vas," uttered in a high-pitched key and with startling suddenness. the remaining words were lost in the lowered tone. those words, however, were quite enough. i had been privately informed, only that morning, by an interesting conveyer of intelligence newly arrived, from berlin, that some rather important german officials were taking a kindly interest in my welfare; certainly to the extent that they had offered quite a substantial sum of cash (not paper or cheques) for my delivery in their country, condition no object. the sum named was far and away beyond what i would ever have imagined my uninteresting carcase was worth. in a flash the situation became clear to me. it was a plant to kidnap. great, blundering, self-satisfied, careless, conceited ass that i undoubtedly was, i had walked right into the spider's web without so much as a toothpick on me with which to put up a fight. immediately in front of where i was standing was an open space, some forty yards across. the ground was covered a foot deep or more with snow. concealed thereby and beneath it were railway lines, points, uneven places, bits of wood, parts of packing-cases, hoops, and innumerable obstacles of all kinds, which i knew of too well, having been frequently tripped by them on former occasions. to attempt to rush it would be courting disaster. the shadows, hardly discernible in the feeble light, seemed to flicker nearer and nearer. then i observed a third, and silently i wondered how many in all i should have to contend with. only one thing was absolutely definite in my mind, that was, come what might, i had not the slightest intention of having my liberty curtailed without a fight to a finish. as before stated, i had reached the only lamp-post anywhere around. my movements were observable, whereas those who were hunting me were concealed by the shadows. involuntarily i dived my hands deep into the pockets of the thick overcoat i was wearing. i felt a pipe and tobacco pouch--common enough objects, but the former was never more welcome. somewhere in the dim and distant past i had heard or read of highway robbers, or burglars, or other rough people, having been tricked by the use of a wooden tobacco pipe as a make-believe for a revolver. why not try it now? there was just a chance the bluff might come off. anything was better than to be caught and ill-treated by germans. the thought was mother to the action. backing a few yards to a veritable rampart of cotton, i half bobbed down and suddenly whipped out the pipe in my hand from the right coat pocket. it was of ordinary briar-wood, having a silver band, and holding it close to the pit of my stomach i slowly moved it round _à la_ american up-to-date methods. probably the small silver mounting showed some glint from the straggling rays of the solitary lamp. anyhow, i saw the shadows, which had appeared well separated before, fading away and concentrating in the rear. this gave me a chance which i was not slow to avail myself of. moving as rapidly as i conveniently could i crossed the open space towards the warehouses beyond. i had covered half the distance when i saw that i was being pursued in force. risking all possibilities of a trip and a fall, i raced for my life to the first street turning into the town proper. i had obtained a bit of a start and had the great advantage of thoroughly knowing the ground. the leading german fell. i heard him swear. the language was distinctly teutonic. when i reached the corner of the street i was not more than twenty yards ahead of those behind me. here again a practical knowledge of the tricks and ways of sportsmen of the western states of america stood me in good stead. in fact, it saved the situation and pulled me through. instead of dashing at full speed up the street after i had negotiated the corner, when i should for certain have been caught and pulled down within about fifty yards, i stopped short and peeped round, exhibiting my nose, one eye, and part of my hat; also the hand holding the spoof pipe-revolver. the effect was electrical, not to say humorous. the two prussian sleuth-hounds who were racing full pelt after me pulled up dead in their tracks: so suddenly, in fact, that the third, who was rapidly making up lost way behind, bumped into them, and all three sprawled in the snow. as soon as they could pick themselves up they cautiously opened-out the corner, fearing that their quarry was waiting behind it to pot them off one at a time as they came round. imagine their disgust when they discovered the ruse and saw me in the distance scooting far away up the deserted street with a good long lead. as i turned the next corner leading into a diverging street i bumped into a crowd of merry-makers which poured out from some large, brilliantly-illuminated building. every one of them was very exuberant and seemed to be embracing everyone else. every one of them appeared to be supremely happy and good-natured, whilst every one of them was without doubt most gloriously drunk. what a haven of refuge to a hunted being almost at his last gasp, fleeing from unknown terrors, from capture, torture, imprisonment, or possible death! before they realised my presence i was in the very heart of the crowd, where i was at once embraced. needless to add that i returned the endearments with a vigour and sincerity that i had never before equalled in all my life. nor did i attempt to go further until i had linked up with a convoy of homeward-bound convivial souls, far too intoxicated to know whether i was myself or one of them, or some other person. footnote: [ ] a fictitious name, but near enough to give the desired clue. chapter viii escaping from the clutches of a very clever lady disguises--importance of hands--service on a baltic trader--"idle, dirty, good-for-nothing scamp"--a tender-hearted lady--a fashionable gathering--the english dude--their second meeting--suspected--clever fencing--whales with iron skins--alliance offered--a woman scorned--meditation--flight. so many people imagine that anyone and everyone who is engaged in detective or secret service work carries about with him a large assortment of wigs, false hair, and other disguises. when any of this work is reproduced on the stage or in moving pictures, or in the pages of works of fiction, disguises of various kinds are generally well to the fore. but, gentle reader, take it from me, who have been through the real thing, and rest assured that any kind of disguise is always attended with danger. to wear false hair or wigs, or even to have them found in your possession, would mean death instantaneously, or at best next dawn, in an enemy country; probable imprisonment in a fortress for many years in a neutral one. the cleverest men i have met in the service rarely assume any artificial disguise, although i admit that there are exceptional and urgent occasions when its aid must be sought of necessity. in fiction you will perhaps have observed the universal rule seems to ordain that the assumer of disguises invariably endeavours to change his outward appearance from juvenility to old age. that, to my way of thinking, is merely adding to one's difficulties. in real life it will be found far easier to play the part of a person much younger than you really are than it is to play the part of one who is much older. on such rare occasions as i had to make it part of my business to disguise myself i selected for choice the transfiguration of my outward appearance to a younger rather than an older person whenever the circumstances so permitted. for example, i would enter a building to all outward appearances a man of sixty years of age or upwards, and within a very short space of time reappear as a man of not more than thirty. these tricks may be attempted at night in artificial lights, but by daylight the risks of discovery are not worth the small gain or advantage that may be believed to be attained by their aid. the common sailor, or working-man who is badly dressed, very dirty in appearance and who has not shaved for many days, is generally an object which most men avoid and few women find the smallest interest in; whilst he can roam at pleasure in most public places, and if he has the price of a drink in his pocket he invariably gathers around him a multitude of friends ready to tell him anything they may know or to believe any cock-and-bull story as to his own antecedents which force of circumstances or a very vivid imagination may suggest. all disguises and concealments of identity are of little avail unless very thoroughly attempted and carried out. sir robert baden powell, in his book "my adventures as a spy," speaks of the importance of remembering the back view. he writes: "the matter of disguise is not so much one of a theatrical make-up--although this is undoubtedly a useful art--as of being able to assume a totally different character, change of voice and mannerisms, especially of gait in walking, and appearance from behind." a service officer, whether of the army or navy, would have far greater difficulties to contend with in this respect than would any ordinary civilian--which is probably one of the main reasons why service men are avoided when possible by the german intelligence department for active executive work. the face and body are easy to disguise, but the hands are not. for a rough character rough hands are essential. remember that it is a sure test, when questioning a tramp or hobo before probably wasting one's sympathies as well as one's substance in trying to help him, to demand an examination of his hands. they tell at a glance whether he is a genuine trier, or merely a chronic waster. therefore, before undertaking to appear as a unit of the working-classes, it is advisable to take on a job which will put one's hands into the condition that would appear compatible to one's outward appearance. unloading or loading bricks into a vessel, or a truck, is the quickest and surest way of accomplishing this purpose. in a few hours, hands which are unaccustomed to this work will crack up and blister beyond recognition. its continuance for a couple of days will pull the nails out of shape and give the full, true, horny, hardened grip of a genuine son of toil. want of soap and water will complete a supreme finish to the seeming ideal. once upon a time there arose an occasion when i had to ship as deck-hand and general knockabout on a small baltic coasting craft of no classified definition. it was rough work, rougher living, and roughest weather. but one soon accustoms oneself to one's surroundings in life; and it really is marvellous what a satisfactory clean-up one can make with the assistance of a little grease and a tiny piece of cotton waste. the cruise had been completed and the vessel was returning to a friendly port when her skipper undertook to ferry a party of ladies and gentlemen across from one small island to another. the deck hand--need i explain that i acted in that capacity?--was indisposed. he sought his bunk below, only to be sworn at and cursed, and ordered out again in a manner which unfortunately brought him under observation, exactly the opposite to that which his modest, retiring nature desired; more particularly so on the occasion in question. one lady, a bright-eyed, vivacious, sweet-faced woman of between twenty and thirty years of age, remonstrated on behalf of this seemingly ill-used and unfortunate mortal, and she pleaded with the skipper that the poor man looked frightened and ill. alas, poor me! "d----d idle, dirty, good-for-nothing scamp," is the nearest equivalent in english to a translation of his retort. i had been playing up for a discharge, and plead guilty to the indictment. * * * * * a few days later a fashionable gathering took place. it was held in a beautifully situated house, having extensive grounds, fine gardens, and magnificent views of the surrounding seaboard. everyone of any local importance was there. amongst the guests was an englishman. five minutes' intercourse with him would have been amply sufficient to have based the conclusion that he was one of those effeminate, lisping, soft, silly slackers, who hang round tea-tables and curates' meetings, and who have a horror of all things manly. he was dressed in a neat suit of blue serge. every speck of dust coming to it was at once flicked off with a silk handkerchief. his trousers were of the permanent turned-up cut, carefully pressed and creased. he sported bright yellow wash-leather gloves and spent most of his time toying with a rimmed eyeglass. that he was shy, reticent, and retiring was at once obvious, but in spite of a vacuous, far-away look, his eyes seemed to travel over most of the company, and whenever any serious conversation took place he appeared to be wandering aimlessly about, but well within earshot. one lady in the crowd seemed to take a more than ordinary interest in this personage. she was a bright-eyed, vivacious, sweet-faced woman of between twenty and thirty years of age. she was also a clever and far-seeing individual--one who watches, listens, and observes to advantage. the stranger's face attracted her. she felt somehow that it was familiar. she was sure that she had seen it before; but when, or where, puzzled her. an introduction was an easy matter. soon she was sipping tea and exchanging views on every-day frivolities with the object which for the moment so attracted her curiosity. i can assure those who read these lines that the object in question wished himself anywhere but where he was. "it is most unusual to meet an englishman who speaks our language, even badly. how is it that you seem to know it so well?" she suddenly asked; experience having apparently taught her that questions leading up to the point desired merely forewarned the interrogated. "no, no. you flatter me. i'm positively wrotten on the grammar. i only know a number of words. you see, i had to learn those because i come to your delightful country so much on business, also for sport," i replied. "business? what kind of business?" she asked. "well, you see, i'm rather interwested in wood and in herwings." "oh yes! and sport?" "well, you see, i come here every year for fishing." for some moments the lady maintained an ominous silence, whilst her eyes focussed the horizon of some distant islands lying far out upon the smooth and sunlit sea. she smiled to herself, as though she had caught a delusive object of great worth; then, turning her fair head--and she really was pretty--so that she could look me full in the eyes, she asked: "is it your business or your sport which gives you so much fascination for the sea?" "fascination for the sea?" i exclaimed doubtingly. "now, weally you are quite wrong. i never go on the sea unless i'm weally forced to do so. in fact, i hate it. it's so beastly wrestless when it might be quiet and let everybody else be quiet too." i lisped painfully. "i think you said it was herrings that interested you," she replied, following up a point she seemed determined to push home. "are you sure it's not a larger species of fish?" "yes, quite sure," i hastened to add. "i have no interwests in your extensive cod fisherwies; nor in the oil which i am told is such good business." "i did not mean codfish," she said. "i meant a much larger sort of fish--a big fish closely related to the whale family!" whilst as she uttered the sentence her bright eyes looked laughingly at me with a keen glance that seemed to wish it could penetrate my very soul. "whales! whales! i've never touched a whaling share in my life, and i'm quite certain i don't mean to in these times," i muttered. again the lady favoured silence, but her eyes never left my face a second. she studied every line, every flicker of the eyelid or twitch of the mouth, to try and read what thoughts were passing through my brain; but fortunately for me an assumed innocent expression of countenance successfully concealed the tumult within. i dared not attempt to change the conversation. i merely followed whatever topic my enchanting _vis-à-vis_ chose to select. i answered her questions quietly and without hesitation, but still she persisted. "i mean those large whales which have been so frequently seen along our coast ever since the first week of august, . those great big whales _with iron skins_." it was a sudden, bold, frontal attack, which, however, failed entirely. in spite of her many self-satisfied smiles, gentle head-noddings and knowing side-glances, it elicited nothing but a hearty peal of laughter. this was repeated twice, and the diplomatic lady joined in to hide the chagrin she undoubtedly felt. "my dear good lady, if you take me for a spy, you flatter me. you do indeed. i'm neither clever enough nor bold enough, nor energetic enough, ever to be selected for such a business. even if i had the chance offered me i should never know what i ought to do, or how i could or ought to do it; and if i met a clever person--like yourself, for instance--you would be able to twist me wound your little finger and i could not help myself. spy, indeed! you are funny! you know you are. yes, you know you weally are." and i continued to laugh softly, as though the idea suggested was the most humorous thing i had ever heard, although i admit i was perspiring all over. "then what were you doing on board that trading boat in which we crossed from ---- to ---- last monday? and why were you disguised as a common sailorman, all dirt and grease?" "me?" "yes, you. i recognised you the moment i saw you here to-day. so it is useless to deny it. besides, i wish to be your friend." and sinking her voice to a whisper she added, "i can be of great assistance to you if i like. i am related to several members of the government. they will tell me anything i want to wheedle out of them--anything it may interest you to know. i love england; i hate the germans and i adore the english. i think you are very clever indeed, but you are not clever enough to deceive me; so it's utterly useless trying to do so any longer. am i not right, sir?" saying which she tapped me playfully on the arm, accompanied by many languishing smiles. it was a mighty awkward moment, a very trying situation. my only hope was boldness. at the first words of her last sentence i had raised my face to hers, looking her full in the eyes until its conclusion, and assuming to the best of my ability an amazed expression of absolute astonishment. then, after a long pause, suitable to the part i was enforced to play, i blurted out: "my dear madam! what on earth are you driving at? last monday i was in copenhagen, miles away from here! disguised as a common sailor-man! all dirt and grease! what can you mean? is it another joke, like the whales _with iron skins, or the spy_? or has someone been telling you fairy tales?" in vain she continued to pound me with straight, searching, direct questions. in vain she coaxed and cooed to me to confide in her and make her a friend and an ally. in vain she cast amorous glances, full of deep meaning, with those wondrous eyes of hers, which she knew so well how to use; glances which were calculated to move a heart of stone, and, i could not help thinking at the time, would have been sufficient to tempt st. anthony himself from his lonely cell. i, however, merely continued to stare at her with an insipid, incredulous, vacant look, until at last she petulantly stamped her tiny foot. her patience was evidently quite exhausted. "you must be an imbecile, a bigger fool than i would have believed it possible to find anywhere. my favours are not lightly distributed, nor have they ever before been refused." as a woman scorned she hissed this sentence into my ear, and tossing her pretty head like an alarmed deer in the wilds of a great forest she trotted away and left me gazing silently after her. what would be her next step? i wondered. did she really take me for a blithering idiot, or did she entertain doubts on the matter? would she remain silent, or would she make further inquiry? to what lengths would she be likely to go if she so decided? it sent a cold stream of collected perspiration trickling down my back to think of what trouble that pretty creature could create if she really did make up her mind to follow up my trail. it was terribly bad luck to happen just at that particular time, because i had wanted so much to remain at least a week or ten days in that particular locality; now i had to debate with myself whether i dare risk a stay over, and what it might lead to if i so decided and acted on that decision. then i remembered my hands. good heavens! if she had not got so angry, if she had only kept cool, and had challenged me to remove my gloves. what a give-away it would have been! whew! i was finding the atmosphere much too warm for my liking. i began to imagine that bright-eyed, vivacious, sweet-faced lady sitting in her boudoir at home in a dainty kimono, with a winsome hand-maiden brushing the silken tresses of her crowning glory; whilst she surveyed her captivating features in the mirror and contracted her pretty forehead into ugly wrinkles as she mentally reviewed the day's proceedings. * * * * * that night at an hotel in the town not so many kilomètres away from my lady's chamber a very wide-awake englishman lay stretched at full length upon a very short bed. his legs protruded some two feet over the backboard. he was partly undressed, and he sucked vigorously at a strong black cigar. he also frowned in serious disapproval at the mental review of the day's proceedings, at an irrepressible, annoying thought which would repeat itself again and again, a conviction that if he did not clear out of that immediate neighbourhood at once that "confounded demnition woman" was certain to make trouble somewhere. quit he must and quit he would. that man was myself. chapter ix wild-fowling extraordinary and trawling for submarines in neutral waters germany's western coast--shooting wild-fowl and being shot at--an intrepid sportsman--collapsed zeppelin--escaping war prisoners--careless landsturmers--a supposed-to-be norwegian skipper--native curiosity--dare-devil christian--a mysterious ship--goose-stalking over a land mine--too near death to be pleasant--the nocturnal submarine raider--night trawling for strange fish--enemy's secret reconnoitring exposed and thwarted. a few years previous to the declaration of war several englishmen took rather an unusual interest in the western coast of germany, particularly in the islands lying near to heligoland. some of these englishmen were watched and arrested on the grounds of espionage. some were tried and imprisoned for varying terms of years in german fortresses. some were never caught, although they were closely chased, and were very much wanted indeed. maybe i was one of them. maybe the germans took little, if any, interest whatever in so insignificant a mortal. but the fact remains that for many years prior to i had annually visited the danish and schleswig-holstein coasts on wild-fowling expeditions and for wild-goose shooting. to those who are ignorant of the nature of the western coast of germany and would learn concerning it, a perusal of that most interesting little volume, "the riddle of the sands," is recommended. no cliffs are to be found there, with the exception of some upon the islands of heligoland and the hillsides which adorn the northern side of the elbe on the way up to hamburg. a low sandy shore running in places far out into the north sea stretches the entire length of coastline from holland to denmark. the changes, additions, and developments along this forbidden strip of land, which during past years has been so jealously guarded by the germans, have always been a source of deep interest to john bull's watchdogs who have the welfare of the british empire at heart. at no time has this interest been deeper or more absorbing than since august th, . i knew them well. one of my wild-fowling companions had been a frenchman, about my own age, who lived in copenhagen. he spoke half a dozen languages, and was a very keen sportsman, and wild geese were his speciality. cruising in the depths of winter along the vast extent of mud-flats, oozes, shallows, and islands, which guard the west coast of schleswig-holstein, is no child's play. it requires bold and hardy navigators; men who are not frightened at the horrors of ice-floes, or of breakers on the bar; who can stand a temperature below zero; who can live on the coarsest of rations; and who can sleep anyhow and anywhere. the _nordfriesische inseln_ tract, lying south of the island of fano, the natural buffer to the esbjerg fjord, was a favourite hunting-ground, but it had its drawbacks. many a fine shot into big flocks of geese and ducks was, to the sportsman's annoyance, spoilt by the unwelcome interference of german sentries or soldiers stationed at all kinds of unexpected and outlandish points among the islands. sometimes those interlopers would put out in boats and give chase, but we knew within a little where they were generally stationed and by taking advantage of the ground managed to avoid being captured. more than once we had been hailed and warned and ordered to keep within danish waters or we would be shot--which, however, was nothing out of the common. there are many good fishermen residing at nordby and ribe (in denmark) who have netted flat fish in these waters for years; also intermittently throughout the war, in spite of rifle bullets perpetually being fired at them. soon after the date particularly referred to above, the germans mined the area fairly heavily and no channel was safe. but a local fisherman located the mines and started marking their positions, much to the annoyance of the huns. one man in particular would insist on fishing wherever the mines were thickest. his argument was that, although the work was dangerous, the mines kept others away, to the protection of the fish, therefore the fishing must be the better for it. the germans warned him often enough, whilst they shot at him so frequently that he became heedless of their threats and he appeared to entirely disregard their rifle fire. one day he was caught and taken before an officer, who impressed upon him that if he came there any more they would use him as a practice target for small cannon. nevertheless he returned, and found them as good as their word. luckily he escaped being hit, but after the experience he sold his boat, nets, and belongings, and emigrated to america. i happened to arrive at ribe just too late. i had travelled far to meet this man, as i was anxious for a _little more wild-fowling_; and no one knew the creeks, the channels, and the local geography of that shifting, dangerous coast more thoroughly than this bold and careless fisherman. he was, however, by no means the only pebble on the beach. i found others. my arrival on the frontier between the two countries coincided with certain marked events--the collapse of an airship at sonderho, and the escape of some russian and english prisoners of war from the compound outside hamburg. the airship became a total wreck, and the prisoners of war succeeded in reaching danish territory. thence they travelled to copenhagen, where they were well and humanely looked after. during the autumn of , and the spring of , the west coast of denmark and the extensive mileage of flats running south therefrom was not the happy hunting-ground it had been in the past. there seemed to be too many landsturmer aimlessly wandering around carrying guns loaded with ball ammunition, which they were nothing loth to use at any target within sight that might appear above the horizon. ducks and geese were scarce and very, very wild. they seemed to object to rifle shots even more than wild-fowlers. they were kept constantly on the move. it is true there was a regular "flight" of zeppelins and aircraft of various shapes and make along the coast every twilight; yet these only appeared in fine weather, when it is known to all wild-fowlers that flighting birds fly too high to encourage heavy bags; whilst it must not be forgotten that so far as the country of denmark was concerned, these foul (this pun is surely permissible) were not then lawfully in season. their close time, or period of protection, still remained covered. to violate it would have created much too serious an offence to be treated lightly. but to observe the movements and habits of _these unfeathered birds_ with as much secrecy and security as possible was another matter. in due course i moved camp to the kleiner belt and sought sport and entertainment among the islands of the southern baltic, where, in the air above and in the waters beneath, there was much activity. for sometimes a fisherman's hut sheltered a supposed-to-be norwegian skipper, whose ship held cargo of a contraband nature which was caught by the war and thus temporarily detained. he was taking a little shooting trip by way of diversion from the monotony of waiting an opportunity to get away. that man was myself. it was a thin story, but it lasted out with local natives for the necessary time required. in harbours or bays near by were about a thousand vessels laid up in consequence of the dangers of navigation; whilst round neighbouring islands, on the danish side, fleets of ships of varied nationality could be seen at anchor in many sheltered nooks, all too frightened to venture further on the high seas. the natives of northern europe are extraordinarily inquisitive, and unless one is willing to divulge family secrets it is necessary to draw vividly upon the imagination when interrogated as to antecedents, home, and calling. it would have been dangerous in the instance in question not to have humoured this characteristic peculiarity, or to have declined to satisfy such searching curiosity. the only thing to do to ensure some degree of safety was to blow "hot air" in volumes around; to answer all questions; and, above all, to remember every detail of the untruths thus unfolded. it is a true adage that "a good liar must possess a good memory." this seemingly annoying inconvenience had, however, its redeeming feature. the almost daily bombardment of leading questions opened up excellent opportunities for return sallies of a reciprocating nature. it was an easy step to lead from home and domestic particulars to the all-absorbing topic of the hour--the mighty overshadowing cloud of national troubles. i therefore encouraged rather than narrowed any disposition to talk, whilst i was never backward in attending any meetings of the natives in the confined and fuggy dwellings in which they congregated and resided, despite the most objectionable atmosphere. a free hand with tobacco and a few drops (sweets) to the children added to one's popularity; and "the captain," as i was familiarly called, soon ingratiated himself far beyond all doubt or suspicion. this was as it should be. now the kiel fjord was within an easy sail. its entrance was an object of interest; whilst the kiela bay was used as a patrolling or exercising ground for various designs of aircraft and warships. amongst the crowd of men out of a job was one, a mate, whose life had been passed sailing in foreign seas. he was a devil-may-care, happy-go-lucky individual, ready to join any venture that came along. of course he drank when he was ashore; at sea he was a total abstainer--by compulsion. whiskey was his weakness, wild-fowling his hobby. he knew the haunts and habits of both short and long-winged fowl, which, in his company, i often sought, and it is a wonder we came back alive. every channel that was navigable round those northern islands seemed to hold german or danish mines. every storm broke quantities of these mines from their moorings; and every day floating mines could be seen, washed up somewhere, or reported. many vessels were lost by unfortunate contact with them, and the sea was dotted with the mastheads of the sunken craft. christian--that was the venturesome mate's name--thought little of this. one danger was quite equal to another with him. he argued that if fate had ordained he should be blown up by a mine, instead of being drowned, what did it matter? call-day must come sooner or later, and after all, perhaps a quick blow-up was preferable to the prolonged suffocation of drowning. the former at least would not be a cold or a lingering death, but all over in a second, with no trouble about funerals and that kind of thing. the latter caused a shudder to think about. at first one was inclined to believe christian was boastful in his talk, but the following venturesome exploits prove that such was not the case. indented into a certain island in the southern baltic is a certain bay, which has always been a favourite haunt of wild geese. they visit it in thousands during the spring and autumn migrations, whilst a sprinkling of them seems to be ever present. a low promontory of sand and sand-dunes circles part of this bay, which is so washed by the sea that it is difficult to tell where the low-water mark really begins. from one point of the promontory a long spit of sand and mud projects far out into the sea. it is a peculiar formation and is much sought by waterfowl for resting and toilet purposes. during the opening months of geese made a habit of congregating here in unusual numbers. out at sea, in the fairway, was moored an ugly, evil-looking craft, with huge uprising bows. she was fitted with wireless, and although she had been anchored there since the outbreak of war, a head of steam was always kept up. her official name and number was g. no. . she was supposed and alleged to be lying outside the danish seaboard limit. that, however, to the casual observer looked to be open to grave doubt. she flew no flag and showed no outward sign of life on board, but she was known to be a german vessel, well crewed, victualled and provided. those on board could command the sand-spit before mentioned with their binoculars, as well as with other human inventions. apparently they did not neglect to make full use of what they had to hand. on two occasions, within a period of ten days, a couple of ardent wild-fowlers might have been observed (history seems to point to the fact that they were observed) at early dawn, crawling along the said sand-spit, close to the water's edge, on its lee-side. very slowly indeed they worked their way along until they were within range of a small gaggle of geese which habitually rested there. on each occasion a successful shot had been recorded. fable tells us that the pitcher can go too often to the well. these intrepid sportsmen attempted to repeat their previous successes. it was in the gloaming of eventide. about a dozen or fifteen black (brent) geese were preening their feathers at the end of the sand-spit, apparently well satisfied with their lot and the world in general. just under the uneven line of washed-up seaweed and other refuse two dark forms crawled along. they seemed to be hours covering the space intervening between themselves and the birds--their evident quarry. between decks on the gloomy vessel this minor tragedy in life and death was probably an object of equal interest. the crew could watch and observe without themselves being seen. they could gloat over the spilling of blood, and the death-dealing power of well-placed explosives, without the outside world ever knowing that they had any knowledge of such events happening. how keenly they must have anticipated. as the sun sank deeper and deeper in the west, and the shades of night crept up from the east, the two wild-fowl hunters drew nearer and nearer to their objective. at least they began to think it time to prepare for a serenade. they were in the act of unlocking their guns when suddenly the ground immediately in front of them rose, like an active volcano, into the air and a mighty explosion shook the earth. what a shock! it raised their caps and, as christian remarked, so singed the hair on his head and face that he would not be likely to want the attentions of a barber for a fortnight. his companion was glad enough to escape whole in body and limb, whilst he cursed the cowardly huns under his breath for their death-dealing intentions. christian seemed to emulate the immortal mark tapley. he was infernally happy and grateful to somebody to think they had helped him kill geese, which he would probably never have bagged without such assistance; and he joyfully rushed forward to pick up the dead and wounded before they could recover from the concussion consequent upon the shock of the explosion. natives who heard the report put it down to a floating mine which had been washed up on the beach and exploded when brought into contact with the shore. had one of them visited the place where the upheaval occurred he could have seen at a glance that the depth of water was such that a mine could not have floated within half a mile. how disappointed must have been the crew of g. no. . christian was a born sportsman. he was one of those who would have willingly exchanged a year's earnings for a red-letter day at sport. if the sport was such that danger was coupled with it, the greater the danger, the greater the excitement, and the greater his consequent enjoyment. for one reason only he was constantly lamenting that his country had not been brought into the struggle, so that he could have seized the opportunity to join actively in the fray. at heart, of course, he did not really desire that his country or his countrymen should have inflicted upon them all the horrors of war; but when a scrap was in progress he longed with his whole soul to be in the thick of it. now it so happened that certain people had declared that the germans were violating the neutrality of denmark, or at least jeopardising her position and welfare, by certain nocturnal submarine visitations in certain waters--not so very far from the great belt. german officialdom replied that these complaints and protests were mythical and without foundation. christian thought otherwise. it was a strange coincidence that at this particular time christian should take a violent fancy for trawling. it was perhaps strange that his particular friend should argue that the best and heaviest fish always frequented the deepest channels which ran between the islands. christian agreed, and supported the contention by quoting his experiences of fishing in far-off foreign seas. he was not interrogated as to where, and when, and how, and for how long he had abandoned the forecastle for the trawl-net; nor did he give much opening for any such questions. he knew. others might think they knew, but he knew he was right; that, according to him, was incontrovertible. christian's enthusiasm carried all and everything with it. a small vessel suitable for trawling purposes was secured and fitted out with the necessary gear and equipment. a chosen crew was selected. fish were very scarce and consequently were very dear; the fortunes of all were to be made in a miraculously short space of time. the skipper was a heavy-bearded individual who knew his job, but nothing beyond it. he was easily persuaded, whilst his crew followed the lead blindly, thinking only of easily-earned shekels to come. in due course the party put to sea, with christian & co. acting in the capacity of spare hands. for several nights results were precarious. the mighty draughts of promised fishes did not come along, and christian had to use all his persuasive powers, backed up with innumerable excuses and explanations, to prove why it was his theories had not produced practical solid results. the spirits of the once optimistic crew had sunk to zero, but they were over-persuaded to venture forth yet again. it was a dark night, but the moon was due to rise at . . the sails of the little vessel had been trimmed, and the trawl dropped in a well-known channel, picked off from the chart by the ever enthusiastic christian. for a few hours nothing out of the common occurred. towards midnight the wind freshened slightly and the moon, peeping out from occasional obscuring clouds, cast pale, fitful lights over the cold, dark waters. presently the watch on deck became alarmed. an extraordinary phenomenon appeared to take place. the fishing-boat gradually began to go backwards--actually into the eye of the wind, although her sails were properly set and full. the watchman rubbed his eyes and pinched himself to see whether he was properly awake, or dreaming. he looked at the trawl warp to see whether it was slackening, as he reasoned that if some current sufficiently strong to counteract the force of the wind was flowing there, however unusual or from whatsoever unknown but possible cause it might have originated, then surely the trawl warp would show it. no. the trawl warp was tight. it was strained to its utmost. he looked at the far-off land and took bearings. he was not mistaken. _the boat was going backwards._ her speed was easily perceptible. he rushed to the hatchway and yelled at the top of his voice to the sleeping crew to come on deck; to which alarming summons it responded quickly enough. wildly gesticulating and with much waving of arms the thoroughly frightened and superstitious fisherman explained matters as best he could. others sprang to various positions in the boat to investigate for themselves. the story was indeed too true, and consternation at the unknown plainly showed itself on the countenances of all--except perhaps the imperturbable christian and the other spare hand. whilst the crew was debating with its skipper what was best to be done under the circumstances, another phase of the phenomenon developed. a huge, unwieldy shape gradually rose from the sea abaft the taffrail. it had a smooth, polished skin, which shone and glistened in the moonlight like the back of a whale. but on looking farther along to gauge as accurately as could be the whole length of this mysterious leviathan of the deep, a break in the smoothness of its form was apparent, together with an excrescence which the skipper of the trawler was not long in recognising as the conning tower of a submarine. ye gods above! how frightened they all were. how the skipper swore, and raved, and shrieked for a hatchet to cut away. how he sawed at the trawl rope with his belt knife before it arrived, and how he hacked the warp in two when he did get it. what a commotion there was to pack on sail in order to get clear before the germans could get out of their steel shell and make things unpleasant for them. how everyone flew about and gave orders to everyone else. yes! all seemed to lose their heads entirely, except the two spare hands whose whole attention seemed attracted aft. they gazed, with looks which might have been mistaken for gleams of triumph, at that huge, ugly monster, now bumping the stern of the little fishing-boat. they noted every detail open to visional observation, while their unusual coolness was not noticed in the general alarm of the crew, who thought only of their individual escape and safety. a close, impartial observer might almost have been led to the belief that the expression on the countenance of christian betrayed the realisation of an all-too-long delayed event which had at last crystallised and fully justified his anticipations. in due course it was reported that the propellers of a believed-to-be german submarine, which, it could be said, had got out of her course in the dark, had fouled the fishing-nets belonging to some unknown boat. the local press was furious. officialdom was stirred from its lethargy, much red tape and sealing-wax were expended, many politely worded notes passed between two governments, and the event was soon forgotten by the powers-that-be. but the fishermen concerned remembered all too vividly every detail and the horrible scare they had had, whilst they loudly lamented their lost gear. however, a danish gunboat appeared a little more frequently round that particular part of the coast; mines, and yet more mines, were laid out; whilst the waters in question, which had so many times rippled round the boat of mystery, knew the activities of the conscienceless hun no more. meanwhile the golden argosy of unlimited profits from deep-channel trawling by night, as exploited by messrs. christian & co., proved a ghastly financial failure. chapter x the mysterious harbour frontier prowling--startling rumours--terrible weather--evading sentries--mapping the works--refuge with smuggler--confidences on super-submarines and zeppelins--a country inn--preparing despatches--forcible intrusion--arrested for a german spy--search and interrogation--summary trial--tricking the searchers--committed for trial--escape. whilst prowling along the northern frontier of germany in the early spring of , with a companion whom i would have trusted with my life, we quite unwittingly got caught in a manner least expected. i had been over the frontier more than once, but never far into the interior. i had neither occasion nor object in so doing. i was at the time on the lookout for some danish workmen who i knew had been employed on some of the important and secret war material of germany. if i could meet them on german soil, so much the better; they would then be much more likely to open out and talk more freely than they would do if met elsewhere. i had had experience of this and was at the time most anxious to get corroborative evidence of some rather startling rumours which i had recently heard regarding the (later on called) paris big gun. whilst so prowling, as before mentioned, we heard speak of a certain harbour. the mysterious harbour, it was called, which no one might visit, which was jealously guarded, and which the germans had every intention of occupying at an early date. wild, speculative talk, perhaps, but it was enough to determine me to go and see for myself and so learn the truth and judge the possibilities from the facts gathered. not so many miles from the island of femern, where the german warship _gazelle_ was torpedoed by an english submarine in the spring of , although the fact was never communicated to the english press, it was said to be situated. a small, exceedingly convenient harbour, with at least eighteen feet depth of water at all tides, and it was said to be capable of great developments. its existence was not chronicled in ordinary guide-books nor on the maps in general circulation. visitors were not welcomed and the local inhabitants were fearful lest their neighbourhood should be seized and overrun by undesirable foreigners. during the period with which we are concerned frost at night was intense. all open marshland was frozen as solidly as if encased in iron, whilst the ice-bound ditches, canals, and drains were levelled to the headland with drifted snow. storms, of varying magnitude, were of daily occurrence. cruel winds swept the bleak area visited, cutting through the thickest of garments till the marrow in one's very bones seemed congealed. no one at the time, acting from his own free will, would have appreciated either a business or a pleasure trip to the harbour in question. yet early one eventful morning, when the weather was at its worst and everyone else had sought shelter, we braved the elements and attempted to lay a course through the maze of marshland roads, dams and banks, which would not have been an easy task to many of the natives. our struggle to win through these and other unseen difficulties seemed hopeless. but our minds were made up. we were both determined, obstinate, persistent. many times we were blown flat by the violence of the storm. many times we fell, sunk to our necks, in a snowdrift. many times we lost our way and had to retrace our steps or correct our course. but all the while we proceeded forward, with lips compressed and faces set in grim determination, to accomplish the task we had in hand; to view, to inspect, and to survey roughly the harbour and its works. not a soul was observable upon all that vast flat area stretching away uninterruptedly to the horizon as far as the eye could command on either hand. the distant, dull, booming, angry roar of the sea upon the breakwaters and the shrieking wind made conversation impossible. no cover was available until the great embankment was attained. it guarded some tens of thousands of acres of reclaimed land. what a relief it was to us poor wayfarers to reach this comparative haven of peace, an oasis in the desert of howling storm! we had traversed many, many weary miles of most awful walking, under most exhausting circumstances, and a long rest was indeed welcome. having reached the embankment unobserved, the remainder of the venture was, comparatively speaking, an easy matter. with such a gale in progress no vessel was likely to brave the mines laid out under the admiralty administration of several nations and to attempt a passage from the sea. on the land side, the temporary railway and all roads concentrated upon a point where a cluster of new houses had sprung up, which at the moment in question were full of individuals--refugees from the storm and others. the windows of these houses commanded every road within miles. was it likely, the sentries undoubtedly argued within themselves, or to be suspected for a moment, that anyone in sane senses would attempt to avoid these solid paths and risk an approach to the harbour through the swamps (although they were frozen) and by way of the embankments thus reached, to the east and west? if there were such rash and foolish people about then they ran a good chance of being lost and frozen to death. so it was that even the sentries were under cover, making life as pleasant as could be, drinking coffee heavily strengthened with brandy, and playing cards for small stakes. having rested and eaten and drunk from a thermos flask, we proceeded along the sea side of the embankment with as much caution as though travelling in an enemy's country. somewhat to our surprise we encountered not a living being, not even a stray dog to exercise his lungs at strangers. on arrival at the harbour, which was concealed from view of the houses by the height of the embankment before mentioned, we quickly and dexterously got to work, free from observation or interruption. my companion kept watch on the main entrances whilst i overran the works, mapped and thoroughly investigated them, sounded and checked water depths, accommodation calculated, and the quay head-room, and roughly surveyed and noted to the minutest detail all the surroundings, in a very short space of time. as soon as this work was accomplished we left the danger zone. it was unwise to linger a moment longer than was necessary in such a situation. retracing our steps until we were quite convinced there was no chance of trouble from possible prying followers, we paused on the outskirts of a small wood. it was the first rest since our objective had been left, it was the first opportunity we had had to exchange a sentence. "why not look in and see old pedersen, the smuggler? he may know something." "good; let us go then." this was all i had to say. in a lonely hut, in still more lonely and uninviting surroundings, resided the interesting individual sought. he was a friend of long standing with my companion, whom he received with every outward sign of cordiality and pleasure. but how deceptive can be the ways of men time will show. coffee was at once put on the hob to boil, and a liberal supply of potato-brandy and eatables forthcoming. the glow of the fire and warm food after long exposure caused my blood to tingle in my veins, down to toe- and finger-tips. the sensation was glorious, and a quiet smoke crowned the extreme bliss of the moment. in due course ordinary generalities of conversation broadened further afield. the grey-haired, bright-eyed old deluder of revenue officers dilated upon the war pickings and opportunities which seemed to be bringing him a rich harvest. it appeared he had many relations living and working in germany. they helped him not a little. custom officials on that side also knew him well. they winked at most things now which before the war would have been suppressed with an iron hand. his goings and comings were of more frequent occurrence. his business proceeded almost openly, and he was accumulating money as he had never done in his life before. no, he did not fear the mines. it was true there were plenty of them. danish, german, russian, and english. he knew exactly where each group was laid; thus he avoided them. yes, he believed the english had laid out some mines. he could not say for certain, but he had seen english submarines in the femern belt. he had spoken them and he knew english when he heard it. of course they must have laid out some mines. everyone knew of the existence and whereabouts of the danish and of the german mines. fishermen who were daily at sea, fishing or cruising around after one thing and another, had seen and heard quite enough about them; but the russian mines were another proposition. he believed most of the russian mines were floating ones, either from design or accident. anyway, there were plenty of them about. the more the merrier so far as he was concerned. they kept a lot of people away and they did not frighten him. it was all good for business. for some time the old man ran on with the utmost freedom of speech, which tended to disarm any suspicions we might have entertained against him. we, however, gave no hint of our doings. we preferred to pose as good listeners. when he turned his conversation to the building of new submarines and airships, and events and happenings in the interior of germany, i drew into deeper reticence and avoided asking questions which might have raised possible suspicions of the deep absorbing interest such knowledge carried. the veteran smuggler apparently had two brothers working on war machines in german territory, and they had told him---- here he broke off in the middle of a sentence to ask his long-lost friend who i was, where i came from, and all about me. it appeared that overcome by the strong wind, coupled with perhaps the stronger alcoholic libations, i had fallen asleep. "oh, you need not trouble about him. he's a norwegian ship's captain, whose ship is stranded up at marstal. he is visiting a few friends hereabouts and doing a little duck-shooting with me. he's a real good sort and quite all right." "of course," replied the smuggler, "i knew if he was with you he must be all right. but in these times you never know, so you'll have to excuse my asking"; and he continued to describe all he had heard and knew concerning the building of the new improved german submarines, which were claimed to be able to run at great speed on the surface and to traverse a distance of some thousands of miles independent of base reliance for resupplies. when the subject had been exhausted he switched off to the zeppelins, upon which another brother had been for some time employed. these engines of destruction, he stated, would be a wonderful improvement on all former known airships of their kind. they would be very much larger; have their cars covered in; there would be more of them; their speed would be materially increased and their capacity for weight-carrying considerably augmented. there were many other minor yet important details which the old man, in his enthusiasm, enlarged upon in garrulous volubility. at last there seemed nothing more to tell and a renewal of the journey was suggested, but so soundly did the pseudo norwegian captain sleep that it took the combined efforts of both of them, with much prodding and shaking, before he could be aroused from his lethargy. when apparently i was only half awake we left the hut, cursing the belligerents generally for upsetting everybody's livelihood, instead of thanking our late host for the friendly shelter and hospitality; nor did i offer any apology for having slept throughout his most interesting discourse upon these unknown things. the old smuggler audibly expressed an unsought opinion that the liquor had got the better of my senses. i was gratified by that. later in the afternoon we found ourselves in the neighbourhood of a small township. we made our way to an inn in the main street, where we ordered something substantial to eat. to specially prepare a meal anywhere on the continent takes time. at a remote country inn where nothing is kept in readiness it takes much more time than elsewhere. an hour is the minimum. i sought my bedroom with an excuse for forty winks, giving orders to be awakened as soon as the soup was on the table. every hostelry bedroom in the north of europe is provided with a table, pens, ink and writing materials. a few minutes after the door had been locked i might have been seen seated at table preparing a despatch and puzzling deeply over certain sprawled hieroglyphics which had apparently been made on rough paper, _possibly inside my pocket with a pencil stump when perhaps reclining in an awkward position and unable or unwilling to see to guide the fingers which gripped the active stump of lead_. be that as it may, the writing was awfully bad and very difficult indeed to make out. i studied it with the greatest of care all ways, upside down, and at every angle; whilst the smiles on my face may have portrayed evident satisfaction at the result. suddenly a heavy tread caused the solid stairs to creak, and loud knocking, equivalent to peremptory demands, upon the door of my room caused me to jump in my chair as though a guilty conscience plagued my peace of mind. quick as lightning i removed and concealed certain precious belongings, doubled up the sheet of paper upon which i was working, and started to scribble silly messages upon some picture postcards i had purchased at the village store to people of no importance who lived at no great distance away. again the knocking was repeated, this time louder and more emphatic than before. "all right, my friend, no hurry. take all things quietly and all things will be well." but the impatient visitor would not and did not wait. he placed so much force behind the lock that it yielded, and he nearly fell on to his nose as the door gave way. recovering himself he came quickly forward, and i rose to meet him half way. "you know who we are?" he said to me. "my dear sir, i exceedingly regret to say that i have not that pleasure," i replied. "we are police officers." as he spoke, another burly individual appeared in the opening of the doorway, who, without sign of interest in the preliminary conversation, proceeded to prop up the broken door to some semblance of its former state. "you have just landed from femern and we arrest you as a german spy." at these words my eyes glittered, i clenched my hands in a way which did not augur well for the visitors. "my good sir," i muttered through compressed lips, "you may do what you please, and you may assign me to any nationality in the wide, wide world, except that one. i am not in any way related to the barbarians, nor will i permit you to take me for one. if you repeat such an insulting accusation again i shall throw you out." "you forget, sir, you are under arrest," he snapped. "i do not forget that, if i am anything at all, i am an englishman, and that i am in a private apartment. if the door is guarded, the window is not; you will observe that it is an unpleasant height from the ground to fall." "anyway, you pass yourself off as a norwegian, now you say you are english, but we know you are german. search his belongings, sergeant, and search thoroughly." saying which the senior officer coolly proceeded to take up and to read the postcards on the table. it was not a pleasant position to be in, and well i knew it. the new law was very elastic. it made it an offence to use the telegraph, the telephone or the postal facilities, or to enlist directly or indirectly any assistance from any native for the purpose of conveying any information which could be considered likely to be of use to any belligerent power; whilst the only literature which had recently found favour in the eyes of the reading public seemed to relate to spies and espionage, whether in fact or in fiction. hence every local junior or senior police or other officer seemed to imagine himself a born sherlock holmes. in vain i indignantly protested against the intrusion. it merely seemed to whet their appetite for investigation. every belonging i had with me was turned inside out, even to the lining of my raiment. hats and boots were separately and collectively opened up, whilst the marks on my linen, off and on, were compared and commented upon. "perhaps a cigar would cool you down a bit?" i remarked somewhat sarcastically, but the suggestion was refused with an indignant snort. "well, i presume there is no objection to my smoking, even if _you_ don't care about it," i added, as i bit the end off a big black cigar and hunted round for matches. blindly ignoring a box on the table, i eventually extracted some from the pocket of my greatcoat, which was hanging on a peg. in doing so i pulled out a glove which fell to the floor. of course my every action was watched. but i did not appear to notice this until i had twice paced the floor smoking. then, seeing the glove lying there, i picked it up and sarcastically offered it for examination, after which i placed it in my side pocket. quite a natural thing to do. meanwhile, it should have been recorded that i had purposely left the folded piece of paper containing the partly-written message lying on the table and in sight during the whole interview. when the officer had advanced to read the postcards i had taken care to be there first. i had carelessly picked up the aforesaid paper and played with it; twisting it round my fingers as though it were a piece of string. when the officer was out of reach of the table i threw it down again. if he came closer i annexed it and played with it as before. after the glove incident, the officer, evidently in command, made a dash to secure it. i reached and picked it up just a second before him and proceeded to twist it with even greater vehemence than before round my fingers, as though my nerves were somewhat strained. the officer held out his hand for it. instead of giving it to him direct i first passed the paper from one hand to the other. a very simple thing indeed in itself to the uninitiated, but that little act covered an operation which if bungled might have provided me with solitary confinement for a period of many years. as the officer unrolled the twisted paper i had handed over it proved to be utterly devoid of interest or utility; it was, in fact, a piece of blank paper, in size about the thickness of a man's thumb. by way of explanation to the reader i must add that in years gone by i had been an adept in the art of legerdemain, thus it was easy for me to deceive him and also to dexterously convey the original document into the thumb of the glove which lay conveniently for such purpose in my right-hand coat pocket. after an hour and a half of search and interrogation the two officers engaged in whispered conversation and the venue was changed. in due course i was arraigned before the head magistrate of the district, a stern but just man who appeared to carry much weight and influence in local affairs. he was the equivalent to our lord lieutenant of a county in england, and probably to a state governor in the u.s.a. his first step embraced a bodily search to the skin in which i, the prisoner, helped by turning out my pockets and opening up my clothes, and giving all seemingly possible assistance. after three and a half hours' interrogation i was dismissed, but informed i must not leave the inn without a permit. meanwhile my travelling companion was also thoroughly overhauled and examined apart from me and _in camera_. whilst this second act of the drama was in progress i was chuckling in my room. with most satisfactory smiles i extracted my various treasures. from the roll of my collar i drew forth a document of value. it looked uncommonly like a rough sketch plan, as indeed it was--quite a good map of the mysterious harbour which had so suddenly sprung into existence. my handkerchief was not without a crumpled paper within its folds; whilst my glove was sought and relieved of its twisted draft despatch. but what amused me most of all was a book entitled _king alcohol_, a discourse on the curse of drink. i had called special attention to this book, a danish edition of jack london, and it had been indignantly cast upon the table both by the magistrate and the officers.[ ] it had lain there with my glove, pocket-handkerchief, pipe and tobacco-pouch as uninteresting and neglected throughout the proceedings. this book was bound in a paper cover, but even an ordinary paper cover can hide more than some people would give credence to. in this it concealed blocked-out silhouettes on very thin paper of every fighting vessel in the german navy. i had been using them--oh, so recently! laughing softly to myself, i reflected on the deception; the very openness of which was its greatest safety. the repacking of my disturbed belongings was necessary, and then i wondered how my companion was faring at the hands of the authorities, whose exasperation and disappointment at not finding any of the evidence they had expected with such seeming certainty upon me was badly concealed. one reflection led to another. how, when, and where had the local police or the military been led to suspect us, to hit our trail? who had given information and what did they really know? the more i turned the matter over in my mind the more puzzled i became. could the old smuggler have communicated possible suspicions? could we have been seen at work on the harbour? was my companion everything i believed him to be? it was one of those riddles which secret service agents are constantly being called upon to face, but if they seriously trouble themselves trying to solve them they are apt to fall early victims of brain fever. the examinations had been severe as to past movements, intentions, motives, and present occupation or pastime. the mention of wild-fowling had been received with ridicule until an argument convinced the magistrate that i knew far more about that sport than he did; whilst addresses of certain local fowlers, which had been given him with seeming reluctance, were at once tested by telephone with results not unfavourable to his temporary prisoners. our interrogators either knew, or had assumed a knowledge, that the harbour had been visited; whilst they had searched diligently and persistently for any trace of a plan or particulars relating to it. when the magistrate returned from his second search he announced his final decision to send us both as prisoners under an escort to copenhagen to be tried by the higher tribunal which handled these affairs. this sentence would have been acted upon forthwith had i not questioned the authority and the wisdom of carrying any further so delicate a matter as interference with our personal liberty when there was no evidence whatever for him to go upon. my criticisms were pleasantly and playfully worded, but they were also concise and crushing in their logic; besides which they carried throughout a quiet threatening undertone that portended possible international trouble, with severe punishment upon unauthorised officials who tampered unlawfully with the freedom of a loyal subject of his gracious majesty, king george the fifth of england. thus it came about that the informal court adjourned until the morrow, and our long-deferred meal was the more appreciated. discussing an after-dinner smoke, my companion unanimously agreed with me that wild-fowling in that particular neighbourhood hardly augured well, nor did it hold out promise or comfortable prospects; that although the suspicions which had been aroused had been checkmated for the moment, there seemed every probability that further trouble was likely to develop. perhaps it would be better far to solve the difficulty and ease the minds of all parties concerned if a rapid, mysterious departure, which left no traceable trail behind, was taken. * * * * * later in the day, as the twilight darkened into night, two shadows might have been seen for a moment as they angled the corner of the inn in that southernmost danish township and disappeared in the surrounding gloom; travellers once more amidst the flotsam and jetsam of life's highway; travelling they knew not whither, with but one mind and one paradoxical thought--to seek for, and at the same time to avoid, the unknown. footnote: [ ] the danes being a race of notoriously hard drinkers resent any literature savouring of prohibition. chapter xi mad gambling and a big bribe kaleidoscopic changes in secret service agent's life--called to norwegian capital for orders--enforced idleness--a war gambler--huge credits--twisting the tail of the british lion--averting possible war--frenzied finance--a colossal bribe--topheavy argument--newspaper influence--a good bargain for england--millionaire in three days. the life of a foreign secret service agent in wartime is one of kaleidoscopic changes. he never knows where he is likely to be from one day to another, nor the class of company it may be his lot in life to associate with. one day it may elevate him to be a guest of royalty, the next may find him in company with the very scum of the earth. _pro bono patriæ_ is his motto. his life and everything he possesses on earth is thrown for the time being into the melting-pot. his sole aim, object, and ambition is to make good. to shoulder successfully and carry through his little bit whereby something may be accomplished, something done, for the furtherance of his country's cause. all through that hard-fought fight the british played the game. they conducted themselves as gentlemen and they never forgot that they were sportsmen as well. we in the secret service prided ourselves that we never knowingly abused the hospitality of the neutral nations whose land we were compelled _nolens volens_ to operate in, we never interfered in any way with their politics or their national affairs. our work lay with the hun, the enemy; we strictly confined our attentions to him, and to him alone. yet we were constantly being tempted to be drawn into side issues which it was at times really difficult to avoid. in the early spring of , whilst i was cruising in the baltic, amidst ice-floes and storms frequent enough to chill the ardour of any patriot, i received an innocent and simple-worded note, the interpretation of which meant i must hasten to christiania for orders. on my arrival there i met my old friend n. p., who had been similarly recalled from sweden, with others who have not figured in these pages. days passed in listless idleness. no orders arrived. there seemed to be nothing doing. but it was heart-breaking to see the constant stream of the necessities of life--cotton, copper, foodstuffs and metals--going to germany, which the feeble remonstrances of our ministers, both at home and abroad, seemed utterly powerless to stop or to diminish. for some weeks all members of the foreign secret service operating round the baltic were kept at the norwegian capital in daily anticipation of something important turning up. the expected, however, never happened, yet we were still kept there, in spite of repeated remonstrances and urgent appeals to be released in order that we might attend to our respective interests in other spheres. one evening i had been dining with a friend at the grand hotel. whilst i was in the vestibule about a.m., putting on my snow-boots preparatory to the short walk home, a middle-aged man, with hands clenched, face as pale and clammy as a corpse, and teeth set hard, rushed up to me in such an alarming manner that i fondled the butt of a revolver lying in the outside pocket of my overcoat by way of precaution against possible contingencies. "my god, sir, you are the one man i've been praying to find! i believe i should have committed suicide to-night or by to-morrow morning had it not have been for this chance meeting. i must see you, now, this moment. you must save me. i have millions, yet i am a ruined man. i dare not face it a second time. you must either come to my room, or i must visit yours. i have not slept for nights. it will take hours to explain matters. you must save me. save me! yes, only promise me you will save me!" thinking i had a madman to deal with, i humoured him. i promised any reasonable assistance that lay in my power, and fixed an appointment for the afternoon of the following day. the twelve hours intervening made little improvement upon the nerves or excitement of the stranger. it was some time after my arrival before he could articulate a connected story; whilst it took considerable interlocution and some cross-examination before i could draw forth the main facts of his case. shortly, it was as follows: he was a merchant from the west coast. he had gambled in fish oil some years previously and lost his all. financial difficulties had since embarrassed him. when the country was thrown into panic by the declaration of war he had seen his opportunity and plunged once again into an enormous speculation. by promising large sums of money for direct financial assistance, and by offering brokerage remuneration far in excess of what was either necessary or reasonable, he had become enabled to buy on credit practically every barrel of fish oil held in the country. it was a special kind of oil which could not be replaced until next season's harvest was gathered in. he was therefore in a position to control the market and to regulate prices, provided he could only finance the deal uninterruptedly and his movements were not hampered by new laws--particularly prohibition of export. terribly anxious on both these points, he had approached the british minister and pressed upon him the acceptance of his whole purchase at a price more than double its initial cost. in addition he had hinted rather too strongly that germany was a certain buyer should the english government not care to accept his preferential offer. it amounted in fact to a threat: "if you don't buy this oil at once, the whole lot goes off to your enemies." the minister had promised his answer in five days. but when the merchant's financier heard what he had done, that gentleman was so irate he had threatened to cancel his credit, because, as he argued, he had tried to threaten england; which meant that the oil in question would promptly be made contraband, whilst the english government would call upon the norwegian government to cause its export to be prohibited. there was admittedly no sale for such large quantities as he had bought in the home markets, hence he became quite convinced that he was a ruined man, although, according to market prices, he was a millionaire. when recounting his folly in thus putting his head into the lion's mouth, to which he metaphorically likened his visit to the ministry, the poor unnerved merchant worked himself up into a tremendous pitch of excitement. he perspired so freely that all the starch was exuded from his linen. he drank bottle after bottle of lager beer in a vain endeavour to keep his lips moist, whilst his eyes at times assumed an unnatural appearance, rolling round in their sockets in a manner alarming to behold. i knew simply nothing of the subject put so vehemently before me, but the idea of any goods of any value being permitted to go into germany was so distasteful to me that i listened with the greatest patience and until my visitor could say no more. then i inquired where and how i could be expected to be of assistance. "why, you're a newspaper man. you represent the best and most influential periodical in london, the greatest city of the world. i know what tremendous power and influence the english papers hold. your minister would certainly listen to what you said, if you would only interview him on my behalf; if you would only intercede against any prohibition being put on my oil." "why should i interfere?" i said. "as an englishman, i certainly object to your selling any goods to germany. if i thought you intended sending a single barrel there i should do all i could to get the prohibition put on it, not to help you to keep it off." "but that would bring norway into the war." "i don't agree," i snapped. "yes, it would. a prohibition on oil or fish would mean the throwing out of employment of many thousands upon thousands of norwegian fishermen and workmen. they would revolt and march on the storthings-bygning" (house of parliament) "and compel its members to take the prohibition off in spite of the british government. your minister might say that england had been slighted, which would lead to war. one of our own ministers himself told me this only yesterday, so i know i'm right in what i'm talking about." in vain i poo-poohed the idea; the perspiring merchant was insistent. having delivered himself of these troubles, he walked up and down the confines of the room in a frenzy of nervous excitement. banging his fists one into the other, alternately running his fingers through his hair, which was absolutely wringing wet from perspiration, he, literally speaking, groaned out his mental agony. i watched him in silence. suddenly he steadied himself somewhat, then stopped short, and, looking me straight in the face, he exclaimed: "i feel, i know, i am positively certain sure you can save this situation if you will. i am paying the man who is putting up my money , kroner as a private honorarium over and above the usual interest of five per cent. it's worth it. but neither he nor i shall see a cent in return if it's to be prohibition. now, i'll make a square deal with you. i'll give you , kroner" (about £ , ) "if you'll interview your minister for me and you can successfully guarantee me no prohibition for six or even three months. if you can only stop it for three months, then i shall be safe, and i shall have more than enough to pay my late creditors and everybody else everything i owe, and to spare." at this point he positively gasped for breath and more beer, whilst he re-mopped his streaming neck and face. during this scene my thoughts had not been idle. they had conceived, turned over, and evolved a scheme which i believed would work out to the advantage of all concerned, excepting only the germans. i would promise him the assistance he desired; to intercede and do my best to pacify the british minister's wrath, which i was given to understand was burning at white heat against the unfortunate merchant for his presumption and impudence in daring to suggest a twist of the lion's tail for so large an amount as the £ , profit he had suggested. it was well known that the legation had given out, and wished it to be understood, that england would not look favourably upon any business relationships whatsoever, directly or indirectly, with germany. furthermore, that such a flouting of england's goodwill would not be to the future advantage of any such transgressors. some merchants made a joke of this, others expressed their feelings in withering scorn, a few took notice. the idea that their trade should be allowed to continue with england whilst its continuance with germany was to be looked upon as an unpardonable offence seemed a top-heavy argument. they did not view the proposition through similarly tinted glasses. and as soon as the minister began to voice his objections, so soon did trouble begin. the position of the merchant from the west coast, however, was hardly on all fours with other traders in the country. he was particularly anxious to keep in the good graces of the british minister. at the same time, the earning of money seemed dearer to him than most other worldly considerations. i knew he held an appointment which he was desirous to retain--an appointment which the british minister could influence considerably. he, the british minister, could easily keep him in it or he could scorch him out of it, whichever he desired. i also knew that the british minister, generally speaking, was not too popular; whilst it was said that he was a man who would never understand the norwegian race any more than it would ever understand him. i could read what had passed in the minds of both of these individuals of such opposite temperaments at that memorable interview. i could imagine the grim, determined, waiting watchfulness with which the one man weighed up the weaknesses, the failings, and the awful nerve-racking sensations of realised blunders, abandoned hopes and fears, and despair probably revealed on the face of the other. it was all as plain to me as though the drama had been re-enacted in my presence. i felt a contempt i did not express at the sordid details of such vast credits being bought and risks run with other people's money, at bribery prices over and above the usual business rates; at the exorbitant brokerages which were being exacted from this rash and hazardous speculator; and more particularly at the heavy sum which was pressed upon me for a service that the eager donor had seemingly never seriously weighed or considered with an evenly-balanced mind. thus i delivered myself: "my good sir, you seem to have put your foot into it very badly indeed. it looks as though you, and all those involved with you, will crash through the very thin ice you are skating upon. it looks to me an odds-on chance that you will all be drowned in the financial vortex beneath. i don't for the life of me see how a poor insignificant journalist like myself can be of any real service to you. so you need not worry about your , kroner or any other sum. what fragment of weight do you suppose that so great a personage as our minister would attach to either my words or to my presence--to me, a stranger and an ordinary civilian?" in a tense, hoarse voice he replied: "you forget you are english, an english journalist, representing the most powerful newspaper in london. everyone is afraid of newspapers. they can uproot a throne. i know. i have lived in london. i have seen what a newspaper can do. you are cool. your nerves are strong. you are a man of the world. you can state my case as it would be impossible for me to state it myself. let the english government buy my oil at its own price. i don't want an exorbitant profit. i will leave the negotiation to your absolute discretion. prohibition would ruin me. you can save me if you will only try. i will willingly pay you any sum you like to name. if you stave off the threatened prohibition you will earn it ten times over. you may even save our country from war. i have not slept for nights. i cannot eat properly. unless this strain on me is relieved i feel my brain will give way and i shall go mad, or i shall kill myself." he sat down heavily upon a chair, and, burying his head in his hands, wept aloud. allowing a reasonable time for the unhappy merchant to settle down to a more even frame of mind, i placed my hand upon his shoulder, not unkindly, and said in a soft voice: "well, i'm afraid i shall not carry much weight, and i don't want your money, but i will go and see him. one thing is quite certain. you can rest assured that england would never knowingly permit an injustice to be done; but if you're trading with the germans, then of course you'll have to paddle your own canoe." further inquiries from the now subservient speculator elicited the existence of a contract made with german merchants by which a by-product of the oil passing through his hands in the ordinary course of business, amounting to about five per cent. of the whole, had to be delivered to them periodically for some few months to follow. in due course i carried out the promise i had made, and as a result i conveyed certain proposals to the merchant, whereby that gentleman gave a written undertaking that not a barrel of his oil should be sold to germany, directly or indirectly, excepting the by-product before referred to, which was considered a bagatelle, he receiving assurances that so long as his undertaking was faithfully carried out no steps would be taken without fair and reasonable notice to press for a prohibition of the particular oil in question. to say that the gentleman most interested in this matter was effusive in his expressions of overwhelming gratitude would be a gross exaggeration of mild description. if permitted he would have fallen on my neck and almost drowned me in a flood of tears of relief and joy. he produced a pocket-book bulging with paper money and attempted to force a handful of notes for large amounts upon me, which i firmly and emphatically refused to accept. but i did agree to lunch with him, and the late dejected one ate what he described as his first decent meal for a prolonged period. during the following week we occasionally met. the merchant was now all smiles and enjoying life consequent upon a successful venture and an undisturbed peace of mind. prices continued to rise in his favour, and ten days later he declared himself a millionaire in norwegian kroner. he vainly continued to press me every time we were alone to accept something substantial for the service rendered, whilst he was extravagant in his sentiments of eternal gratitude. he also proposed that i should abandon my journalistic career and accept a position as one of the foreign representatives of his firm, which offer i likewise politely declined. then he hinted at the bestowal of a high norwegian decoration, which made me smile still more. whether the unlimited ambitions of this wild speculator followed usual precedent and tumbled from the height of success to the abysmal depth of failure by reason of too oft-repeated temptations of providence; whether, and if so, how the assurances given and the guarantee obtained were carried out, the ultimate turn of events, and how all these things developed, progressed and fructified, remain, as rudyard kipling says, another story. chapter xii shadowed by police posing as a journalist--credentials--subtle suggestions--suspicions--a fallen star--sold to the police--instinctive warnings--temptations--intercepted adulations--a serious blow--tests--danger signals--flight--herr schmidt--double tracking--arrest warrant postponed. most people who interest themselves in the detailed working of secret service show greatest curiosity regarding the actual characters assumed by its members when in foreign countries. a secret service agent should never assume a character he is not absolutely familiar with, both inside and out. it is possible to act up to a certain pitch, which will carry a certain distance, but artificiality is never safe. the stunt that is most in favour with the intelligence departments of all nations is journalism; thus it has been worked threadbare. every foreign newspaper man on the continent in recent years has been suspected, marked, and watched from the start, simply because he is what he is and for no other reason. i was never warned of this, but it did not take me long to find it out. i fell into the _rôle_ on my second trip out and adopted it naturally. i had been a free-lance journalist for upwards of twenty years, and i concluded that i could assume the character of special correspondent without any anxiety, and that i would be received for what i was. i had previously posed in many characters which were not so aptly fitted, and i believed i had carried them through successfully. this would be child's play to an old hand; besides, it had been part of my livelihood and was no assumed _rôle_, it was merely acting as one's self. one of the best, most influential and respected newspapers in london was therefore approached. i was no stranger to its editor, who received me with cordiality and gave me the necessary credentials. in order to supplement my london references i sought for and easily obtained a further commission from the head editor of a series of country daily and weekly issues. a passport carried the announcement that i was a journalist, and everything appeared to be in order. on arrival abroad, in the first country to which my work was allotted, as a special journalist i made application to the head transmission department to bespeak a legitimation card, which added an additional official stamp to my papers. no one could have been more helpful or sympathetic than the transmission department officials, but in this particular instance it subsequently transpired they took copies of my credentials, which they handed over to the chief of the criminal investigation department. of course, i knew nothing of this at the time, although it would not in any way have disturbed my equanimity or peace of mind if i had. a chief superintendent, whom i had to interview, was exceptionally kind. he strictly adhered to his duty to his country, but the leaning of his sympathies he appeared absolutely unable to restrain. "your paper," he said, "is a power in europe. it is always fair, impartial, and reliable. many of my countrymen read it, and we know that it does not exaggerate the true facts. i respect it, my colleagues respect it, although they might not say so, and you may rely upon all the help i can give you. you must remember, however, the position we are placed in. you must be careful not to offend against our recently passed laws or you will not get your messages through. also, you may be misunderstood." i thanked him and sought further enlightenment. i guessed what he was hinting at, but i wished to draw out of the man all he was willing to disclose. "you know," the superintendent continued, "that you must not use our wires, either telephone or telegraph, to report movement of any ships of foreign nations which are at war. our instructions are very strict upon this point. we must carry out our duties to the utmost. but these germans! they are not men, they are mad dogs. their idea of war seems to be extermination without regard to the law of nations. they murder women and children; they seem to have no feelings. they would overrun our small country to-morrow if they thought any advantage could be gained thereby. alas, poor innocent, unoffending belgium, whom they undertook by honourable treaty to protect and uphold! how they have ruined her, burned her towns, ravaged her entire country, raped her daughters, robbed her churches and treasures; and, on top of all, fined her inhabitants for not returning to be made slaves to oppressors and brutal taskmasters. 'vengeance is mine,' saith the lord. if they do not suffer for all this, then there is no justice on earth or in heaven above." we were alone in his private office. before speaking he had carefully closed the door, having first looked anxiously into the outer office. now he turned to me and, extending both hands, added: "reading these things, hearing of them from eye-witnesses, hearing even worse in detail which made my flesh creep, can you wonder that we, a peace-loving people, who never did like those overbearing germans, pray for the day when they will find their level in the world and when they will be compelled to behave like decent-minded people?" i cordially agreed, and inquired what my loquacious friend was leading up to. "you have a press censor in your country, i presume?"--"yes." "if he saw in the course of his duties anything which he thought might be of advantage to your government, or to its naval administrators, to know, i suppose he would at once cause it to be sent along?" "really, my dear sir," i interjected, "i have no knowledge of what our censor does. i know he's an awful nuisance to us newspaper men; he holds up our copy for indefinite periods. but i, like yourself, assume he is an englishman." and i looked him square in the face and wondered whether he would guess what i certainly had no intention of admitting. "good!" he exclaimed. "now, in this country our newspaper men get round our regulations by using simple little codes, which in their wording refer to things domestic, but in reality can be translated into something very, very different. for example, 'mrs. jones of ---- has just had twins; one is strong, the other very weak and not expected to live,' might easily be arranged to convey the interpretation that a couple of german submarines had entered the port of ----, one of which was a damaged condition. i expect your paper would like to have such items of news? even if it were not allowed to publish it, your censor might like to have the news to hand along. such a message, worded as i suggest, would not offend against our rules and regulations. we should accept it, not knowing or caring for any possible hidden meaning. do you understand, my dear sir, what i want to convey?" wondering at the back of my mind whether he was just sounding me, or whether he was so truly sympathetic with the allies that he was really anxious to help stop the war as soon as possible, i followed the wise course of terminating the interview. after thanking the superintendent for his kind assistance and sympathy i left. it is an unwritten rule of the secret service never to give anything away unless it is imperative so to do, or a more than commensurate advantage is gained thereby. it is an unwritten rule of the same service to keep away from all government officials, irrespective of nationality, in so far as one reasonably can. in spite of the deadly earnestness of the gentleman i had just left, i felt puzzled. i did not understand his voluntary and unnecessary outburst of outraged sentiment. instinct told me that somewhere there was something moving which i must guard against. what it was, or from which quarter i was to expect it, i had no idea. in the secret service one must paddle one's own canoe, alone and unassisted; always up-stream; always through dangerous rapids, wherein at every yard are hidden rocks and snags ready to tear the frail craft asunder; always through countries overrun with enemies armed with poisonous arrows which are fired singly and in volleys whenever the smallest opportunity is given; always hunted and stalked both day and night by the most persevering, cunning, and desperate huntsmen in the world; always on the move, with never a sure, safe, or secure resting-place for one's weary limbs; and always on the _qui vive_ against a thousand and one unseen, unknown, and unsuspected dangers. no wonder that members of this service so soon become fatalists. a few days later i was closeted with a local journalist out of collar. he wanted a job. he spoke six languages, had had smooth and rough experiences in america, and was a man of great ability. his weak spot was alcohol. he had had chances innumerable. friends had helped him until their patience had been exhausted. now that his domestic ship was badly on the rocks, the whole family half-starved, and himself a total abstainer--by force of circumstances--another last chance seemed to his unfortunate wife to fall as the blessed manna from heaven in the wilderness. i treated him generously and trusted him--as far as i could have trusted any ordinary person--but he, an ordinary mortal of this proverbially ungrateful world, at once sold his benefactor to a higher bidder, in so far as it was possible for him so to do. it happened thus-wise. not satisfied with the liberal terms i had agreed to give him, which covered full travelling expenses, living expenses and remuneration separately assessed, he approached various carrying firms and tried to wheedle from them free passes. meeting with no sympathy--probably they knew him by former experience--he visited the police and sold me over to them as an alleged spy. naturally the police wanted evidence. this the man undertook to get. he made excuse after excuse to delay his departure on my business. he visited me daily with a long list of questions; he suggested the obtaining of information concerning local naval and military intelligence which did not interest me in the least; he pressed for written instructions, special codes, and complicated arrangements regulating the sending and receiving of correspondence--anything, in fact, which would gain him time and which might prove my undoing--all of which, however, i suggested he should prepare himself if he wanted them. the man's testimonials were excellent upon all points excepting the one weakness before referred to, and i treated him quite unsuspectingly. little did i know that when he made notes in shorthand they were in fact literal and verbatim reports of our entire conversation, made at the suggestion of the police and for their special benefit. i afterwards heard that detectives had helped to prepare the very code he brought to me and which he was so eager for me to substitute for one i had suggested. had i been indiscreet, and had i given anything at all away, or had i trusted this man with any facts relating to or concerning those connected with my real employment, i would have been arrested on the spot. as it was, the police learned nothing which did not appear to them legitimate, in order, and most flattering to their country, to their countrymen, and to themselves. remarkable as it may appear, it was, however, a fact that i was restless and uneasy. instinct seemed to whisper in my ears, continually day and night, messages of warning that all was not well. the air seemed overcharged with electricity. it felt heavy, like an ominous calm preceding a violent storm. yet, rack my brain as i would, i could not for the life of me fathom the depth of the mystery, nor could i trace its origin to any fountain-head. meanwhile my new assistant entered upon his undertaking. in a few days he sent to me by code a detailed description of a sea engagement between german and english warships. it was the fight off the dogger bank in the north sea, in april, . in the course of the next six weeks, in addition to his proper work, arranging with outpost correspondent agents, he collected and forwarded at regular intervals a mass of interesting matter, all good newspaper copy, with many little tit-bits of special news which were most acceptable. but he would rub in items of local naval and military intelligence in spite of my repeated instructions to the contrary. not only was i a staunch fatalist, but i believed in a divine providence which directed one's actions and destinies, which shaped one's ends, rough-hew them how one might. in this instance it probably saved my liberty from being suddenly and inconveniently disturbed. before i received any of these reports before mentioned they were all (i have since ascertained) intercepted and carefully studied by the criminal investigation department. naturally, my replies were anticipated by them with still greater pleasure. dame providence, however, directed the pen when i upbraided my assistant, reminding him he was engaged in journalism, not espionage; that he was representing a great newspaper and for the time being i was a guest in an hospitable, generous country; further, that i would at once dispense with his services if he offended against that country's laws; and that, when he sent information concerning german spies, such was wrongly addressed--he should have sent it direct to the local police, whom, i added, were _the most intelligent, fair-minded and smartest crowd of their kind anywhere in europe_. i cannot help smiling to myself now when i think of this. it seems so ridiculous to think that i should have penned such flattering words regarding those who were attempting to catch me, _flagrante delicto_, as the law puts it! it probably puzzled them not a little, whilst it must have caused them to suspect their wily journalistic friend as running with the hare and at the same time hunting with the hounds. about this period something else occurred which added to my uneasiness. naturally my most closely-guarded secret was my main line of communication with london. no one held the secret of this but the most trusted in the service. one day an intercepted message was brought to me. it contained a sign by which one of my messages could be identified. i tested this message by a dozen different ways; the result was rubbish in each instance. i knew by this that nothing of any importance was known; but why should the message have been floated into channels wherein it seemed to be known that i had nets? who had floated it? how had the sign even come to be used? i puzzled for hours in a dark room smoking my customary strong black cigars furiously all the time, and i left off more puzzled than when i began. i put on an agent to follow and to watch myself from a distance, to try and see if anyone, and if so whom, were then amusing themselves with that interesting pastime. i put on another agent to "smear," or to attempt to, a volunteer agent whom i relied upon to a certain extent for local correspondence. i had long entertained strong suspicions concerning the latter, but i could never find any tangible proof against him. i wrote spoof letters to myself and i caused other similar missives to be sent to myself from various quarters, upon which i was sure my interceptor would take action, and his movement would probably be thereby detected. i tried and tested various simple and ingenious dodges to trap my tormentor, but everything proved in vain. exactly three days after intercepting the first message a repeat followed through the same channels. it was a lengthy document and bore the outward visible signs of genuineness, but inwardly it read nothing but nonsense. the object my enemies aimed at had failed. i had provided for that. but whether the police, or the naval or military authorities, were behind the attempt, or whether it was an experiment of hun origin, i never could unravel. several quaint experiences following one another in rapid succession made me wish i could carry through the work i had in hand to a rapid conclusion in order that i could shift to a more congenial atmosphere. i had received warning before starting on this particular business that my lot was not likely to be enviable; and that i would probably have to put my head into the lion's mouth. i had also been warned that the place to which i had been sent to stay and to direct certain operations was known to be infested with german agents, whose jealousy and zeal in watching over certain vitally important secrets amounted to a mania. my visitation might find a good comparison in likening it to a police officer being sent to sit in the entrance hall of an illicit west end gambling hell. he knew every effort would be strained to tempt him away from the main issue or to shift him. my commanding officer had intimated that if i survived ten days he would consider i had done well. as a matter of fact, i stuck it six weeks. i had arranged what was wanted. i had fixed other matters towards a promising and satisfactory conclusion when i received a picture postcard. the illustration represented a motor-boat going at full speed. underneath it was written: "skip-per ahoy!" in the ordinary way this would seem to convey nothing beyond a casual salutation. but the hyphen! it was evidently intentional. i read it as a hint to get quickly away--to skip, in fact--whilst the motor-boat suggested that a private rapid departure would probably not be to my disadvantage. the weather was much too tempestuous to venture to sea in such small craft as might have been available. no other possible road of retreat, except by sea, was open, so i had to study ways and means. i informed those who waited on me that i should be leaving three days later for a well-known town lying fifty or sixty miles to the southward. meanwhile the few remaining details necessary to complete the objective of my visit were arranged, and the local time-sheets of every known route touching at the island were studied. i noted with some satisfaction that early in the morning two boats crossed each other's passage at given hours, arriving at the same quay and departing at the same time. the next day, before six in the morning, i appeared on the quay and booked a ticket for the southern journey. no one appeared to be watching, and when the boats arrived i made the mistake of boarding the boat which sailed north, although i hardly considered it necessary to inform the purser of the fact when he demanded the wherewithal to cover passage on his ship. no one in the town knew i had left, but i had sent a secret message to headquarters advising of my intentions. at the next port of call a letter came aboard addressed to herr schmidt, which i claimed. it was a transcribed telephone message. reading between the lines the writing conveyed only one interpretation. reduced to simple english, it meant: "eruption--quit." i promptly left the boat i was on and changed my route by going inland over a peninsula to a small fishing station, where a portion of luck added to a large portion of whiskey secured a berth on a small cargo-boat running direct to another country. the false agent who had sold his benefactor but was unable to deliver the brand of goods he had promised, then finding that certain monetary demands were not provided for by telegram, although not in accordance with his agreed arrangements, fell a victim to his besetting sin. he indulged in a prolonged debauch during which he divulged the full depths of his iniquity. his confessions were in due course reported to me, and they brought him the order of the boot. the deep-laid schemes of the perhaps too-muchly-lauded police, like those of mice and men, ganged agley; action on their warrant to arrest had perforce to be postponed _sine die_; whilst the elusive herr schmidt, the pivot round which this little teacup drama gyrated, vanished _pro tem_. from the affairs and haunts of the disciples of kultur and goulashes. chapter xiii dodging frontier guards and searching for one's self frontier guards--smugglers--rigorous searches--unearthing valuable german secrets regarding super zeppelins, submarines and the paris big cannon--a loquacious waiter--headmoney for my capture-- , marks, dead or alive--looking for one's self--a capture--crossing the schleswig frontier--a friend in need--dangerous enterprise--kiel harbour--safe return. crossing the northern frontiers of germany during the war was by no means so difficult a task as it apparently was to do the same thing further south. landstürmers were on guard during most of the time. men about forty years of age who took much more interest in food and drink than they did in fighting. they were on very friendly terms with the danes, particularly with those who lived near to the frontier; whilst a great many marriages had been consummated from time immemorial between germans and danes, and danes and germans, all along the northern boundaries. in spite of the vast amount of commodities and necessities of all sorts that poured into the northern ports of germany during the whole period of the war, until america came in and in a great measure stopped the absurdity, yet the germans were short of many things which their souls hankered for, whilst many of them, with a thought to the unknown future, were anxious to hoard up all supplies that could by any means be obtained. small fishermen, and those who picked up a precarious livelihood from any odd job or from varied and promiscuous dabblings in trading deals of any nature, were not slow to take advantage of these favourable circumstances. hence a host of smugglers of small operation sprang into being like mushrooms in a night. those men mostly owned, in part or in whole, a light boat used for fishing or carrying purposes. the majority of these boats were fitted with paraffin motors which propelled them about six to nine knots an hour. the coast of germany was not more than twenty-five miles away from any part of the southern islands of denmark and could be made in three hours, even under adverse conditions. soap, tobacco, matches, aquavit, and such like were cheap in denmark, and very dear, if not at times almost unprocurable, in germany. rich harvests were thus to be had almost for the asking. in addition to this, the germans themselves used a great many small boats from their side of the water. they were assiduous fishers for flounders and other luxuries provided by the baltic, and they were friendly disposed to all danish fishermen, more particularly so towards those whose boats were known to carry other cargoes besides fish. ports like kiel, lübeck, and rostock were naturally avoided by these men as being too active and too lively; but they did not hesitate to mingle with the german fishing-boats and land as near as they could without raising any undue notice or attraction. the coast almost all the way along is low-lying, with shallow water extending out some distance, and consists of vast shoals of sand and mud. there are, however, numerous landing-places for small boats, and many danish smugglers made the crossing as often as two or three times a week. at ports like swinemunde, stettin, lübeck, and kiel, if a traveller of any nationality attempted to pass through on a passport in the usual manner, he or she was subjected to unbelievable indignities and searches which in most instances amounted to insult and violation of the actual person. no wonder that many danish workmen, who in some instances had actually been employed upon private, even secret, war material for germany, and who had obtained permission to visit their homes for a spell, preferred any means of making the home passage across the southern baltic rather than take the regular ferry-boat routes. thus it was that quite a few of them came across with the smugglers, whereby they avoided the severe investigations and saved considerable money on their passage. i was not slow at ascertaining these facts and i made several voyages with the danish smugglers, which were interesting in themselves, whilst they brought me in contact with some of the very workmen who had been employed upon war-work in germany which was at that time of the very greatest interest to englishmen engaged in attempting to anticipate and to thwart the wily hun. i ascertained by this means valuable corroboration of preliminary particulars concerning the super-submarines, the super-zeppelins, and the preliminary trials of the super-cannon afterwards used on paris. in the early spring of i had returned from one of these little cruises where business and pleasure had been combined. i had landed safely upon one of the southern islands of denmark and entered a _kro_, or small licensed inn, to obtain a decent meal with a good long drink of the famous jacob jacobsen's gamle karlsberg porter, which can be obtained everywhere throughout denmark and is every bit as good as it is famous, when the very dirty waiter whispered in my ear that there was a heap of good money offered for a very little work. perhaps i should apologise to the aforesaid waiter for disparaging his personal appearance. because it might have been possible that at the time in question my outward appearance equalled or surpassed his own in filth and slovenliness. but be that as it may, i naturally inquired further regarding this hinted el dorado. "well," he said, rubbing his chin and gazing at me with great earnestness, "there are a couple of germans hunting round this town" (every cluster of houses in denmark is called a town) "looking for an english spy who has been jumping over the frontier a time or two, and they say that they can get ten thousand marks for him, dead or alive, if they can only put their hands on him." i was on the point of quaffing a most delicious draught of the far-famed porter, but somehow i seemed to lose my thirst. the news was of absorbing interest to me, if not actually startling in its purport. the waiter was obviously avaricious, and the mention of so much money made his fingers itch and his mouth water at the thought of the glorious times he could secure with such vast wealth. whilst i was watching the various changes of his face as these ideas chased one another through his narrow brain, it flashed upon me how easy it would be for anyone to capture me and to take me back across that narrow little strip of sea-water whence i had so recently come. a pinch of some drug in one's food or in one's drink. a slight tap on the head. a little chloroform on a pocket-handkerchief. all simple applications, so easy to administer, and so easy to explain away: that one's friend or brother had merely taken a little more alcohol than was good for him, or had been unexpectedly taken ill and now a little help was necessary to get him aboard his ship or boat, so he could be taken home to the dear old fatherland, where he could be well and properly attended to! these lightning-like reflections sent a cold shiver down the very marrow in my spine. i drained my mug of porter at a gulp and hastened the waiter away for more. whilst he was so occupied i decided what to do. on his return i told him, with all seriousness, that i had seen a strange-looking dude on the quay less than an hour ago whom i was certain was english, and if he could find and present me to the two germans and i got the reward i would give him a share of it for telling me all about it. to show him i was in earnest i treated him to a bottle of porter. after consuming our drinks he arranged matters, and we left to hunt up the would-be german scalp-hunters. about an hour afterwards we found them hanging round a very primitive moving-picture show which seemed to thrive on free films supplied by the hun propagandists. we all four adjourned to another _kro_ for drinks and important conference. the description they gave me of the man wanted tallied exactly with the man i said i had seen. now that was quite an extraordinary coincidence, and i impressed it on them. only my waiter friend had sense enough to cross-examine further into my statement, so i had to order more drinks to stop the possibility of still deeper inquiries. before i agreed to make a move i wanted to have a bargain in writing giving me half the reward. this the germans would not agree to. they suggested one-third, and my friend the waiter hinted at a possible fourth share for himself. when i said i would not be satisfied with three thousand marks on the risks run they explained that a third share would exceed eight thousand marks. "it had been ten thousand," they said, "but quite recently the reward had been increased to twenty-five thousand marks," which had made them very active and anxious to try and secure it. i, however, still argued that if i found the man i should get half the reward, whatever sum it was. they disagreed; meanwhile the waiter got intoxicated. leaving him where he was, we commenced our search and continued it with vigour and persistence for the remainder of that day and all the next. i assure you, gentle reader, i never had such an interesting hunt before, and i have hunted big game in many lands under extraordinary conditions. that trail, however, was the trail of my life. about noon next day we ran a suspect to earth in a lonely spot and put him through the mill with a vengeance. but he conclusively proved his identity and we were very lucky to escape trouble over the episode. i think our salvation was that we so frightened the unfortunate captive that he was glad to be able to leave the town as quickly as possible and get away from us back home to his little farm inland. towards the afternoon of our second day's man-hunt my hun colleagues began to hint their suspicions regarding myself and as to my actions. they had been very ungentlemanly towards me from the first on the question of dividing the reward. they were very mean over spending money on drinks and smokes; and, taking one consideration with another, i thought it far wiser to lean on discretion as the better part of valour. so as soon as the shades of night once more darkened the land i regret to have to admit that _i borrowed_ a boat belonging to some native, whose forgiveness i trust was granted if he ever found it again, and i left the island, never to set foot in that township again; at least for the duration of the war. * * * * * entering germany from the schleswig frontier was not very difficult unless one attempted to pass through the custom house, with all its surrounding formalities and searches. in the angles of the frontier near ribe, and on the mainland, of course the whole line was trenched and guarded, and any attempted passing or even approach was both difficult and dangerous. but by skipping round either end, at sea on the east, and between the islands on the west, no insurmountable difficulty presented itself. i never attempted a landing on the immediate east side, but i did go round on the west, and the trip was not worth the risk or the trouble. there was nothing to learn that one did not already know from scores of others who had been permitted to pass the lines on business or otherwise. there was nothing to gain by going again, and i had no desire to attempt to repeat the experience. living on an island which is unnamed except upon the best maps of the southern baltic i had a friend--a danish sailorman who was rarely at home, but when he did take a holiday from his sea-going wanderings it was invariably marked for its riotousness on shore or for its devilment afloat. dare-devil christian was one of the best men i ever met except for his one great weakness. provided that was guarded against, he was fine company and a great sportsman. any class of sport satisfied him, from rat-hunting upwards, and if a spice of danger could be added it gave him a greater zest proportionately. i had the great luck to bump into him twice during one winter season, and for some time we thoroughly enjoyed life together. just before the new year of i had been advised of a possible and probable naval engagement somewhere near the north sea entrance to the kiel canal. it had been hinted to me it would be interesting to know what german war-vessels there might be cruising in the baltic that would or might be recalled if such an event took place. it was also hinted that the water defences to kiel harbour, and the canal entrance on the east, might be ascertained for certain with some advantage to england's naval intelligence department. i was accordingly on my way down towards the island of aero when, by great good fortune, i met my friend christian on the second occasion above referred to. needless to add, we at once joined company. in order to occupy our time in a manner congenial to both, and as ice bound the streams inland and made work at sea far from pleasant, i suggested to christian an expedition having for its object a direct attack upon the short-winged fowl which thronged the outer coastline. these birds are not generally considered good eating, and in england nobody will buy them for such purpose. but in scandinavia the natives soak them for twelve to twenty-four hours in vinegar and water, and by these and other preparations eventually bring them to table as a most appetising dish. the waters all around kiel fjord are reputed as good hunting-ground for flounders and for diving ducks. the fjord, however, is situate twenty miles away from danish territory, and to reach it in those times one would have to rim the gauntlet of numerous patrol craft of various designs and size. yet a small fishing-boat, resembling in all outward appearance other small boats which are used for coast-fishing along the east of schleswig holstein as well as along the danish coasts, was not so likely to draw particular attention. when my scheme, embracing an expedition to these waters, was casually brought up with christian, as though it was a mere matter of utter indifference whether the boat drifted there or anywhere else in europe, he looked at me with an incredulous expression of pained surprise upon his genial countenance, which seemed to convey the unspoken sentiment: "have you forgotten that the germans are at war? that to go and fish or shoot ducks anywhere near their precious, guarded harbour--about the most sacred spot in their whole empire--could only be equalled in sacrilege to spitting the eternal holy fire out before the priests in the temple on mount ephesus?" so i hastened to attempt to assure him by saying: "well, we need _not shoot_ when we get in; nor, for that matter, if and when we see any ships or people about whom we might disturb. also, my dear friend christian, don't you appreciate the fact that it would indeed be interesting really to know the truth just at the present time concerning the much-discussed outer kiel defences?" "that's all very well, but--" he stopped short at the "but," whilst he became more serious than i had ever known him to be before. for a long spell he smoked in silence, then looking up with a half-smile, exclaimed: "i don't want to know what i ought not to know, and i don't want you to tell me what i don't suppose you ought to tell me, but i reckon i know what you want to go to kiel for; _it is not flatfish and it is not ducks_." "my dear friend, you are totally wrong. i assure you it was merely idle curiosity coupled with a love of the venturesome which prompted the suggestion. but if you funk it, or do not care about the risk, then we had better steer east." christian looked up sharply at the conclusion of this sentence. he did not reply, nor was the subject again referred to for several days. one eventful morning, however, we found ourselves silently inspecting a small, well-built and compact fishing craft, just such a boat as we would have selected had we determined upon the trip before referred to. the boat was good and so was her gear. christian, without a word regarding future movements, engaged her, and she was promptly victualled with several days' supplies. it was announced to the local natives that christian had determined a cruise around stryno and the shores of laaland where ducks and geese were known to abound. in due course a start was made and the boat was headed in that direction. but as soon as darkness set in she was veered completely round by tacit mutual consent, and steered south, then south-south-east. by daylight next morning we were fishing merrily and apparently quite unconcerned off the land of the hun, abreast of that particular wealthy tract of rich soil and pasture which the germans had robbed from denmark in the 'sixties. as the day wore on the little boat drew nearer in shore and towards the afternoon she sailed boldly up the kiel fjord. it was much safer doing so in broad daylight than at any other time; whilst it is true beyond all shadow of doubt that an impudence which is impudently bold enough generally succeeds where a hesitating cautious policy would be sure to fail. christian said little, but he evidently knew the ropes. with the aid of his timely assistance and cool assurance several dangers were passed over, any one of which might have terminated the cruise in disaster. he also appeared to know exactly how to disguise and mark the boat so that she would be, and was, mistaken for a longshore boat in home waters. there was, however, much to try the nerves, not the least strain of all being the overshadowing knowledge that at any moment the boat and her contents might be blown to a thousand fragments by a floating or anchored mine; although by hugging the shore as much as possible this danger was greatly minimised. when a warship seemed to take more than ordinary interest in that frail craft of peace and industry christian's discretion rather than his valour caused him to steer direct for the nearest hamlet on the shore as though he belonged there. he would often anchor and down sails, but he wisely refrained from landing, apparently because he had much too much to attend to in connection with his gear. by creeping inshore when other craft were too near, and keeping well away from it at other times, the boat drifted nearer and nearer to the localities desired to be reached and seen. observations were taken by stealth and with the assistance of good field-glasses, their user first invariably concealing himself under a mass of fishing net, which amused christian, although he refrained from making any comment upon the peculiar eccentricity or caution of the observer. at night searchlights played over parts of the water and advantage was taken of any intervening promontory, rock, or anchored craft that could in the smallest degree hide the boat from the searching beams. having nosed around and observed all that one could have expected to be able to locate in such a venture, advantage was taken of favourable breezes and the return journey accomplished with due care and caution. fortunately snow-squalls were frequent. probably the flakes acted as a mighty host of guardian angels to the little amateur privateer; for although she was pushed into the security of shallow waters again and again during the exciting if somewhat risky voyage, she evaded capture, even overhauling; and eventually returned like a migratory bird at the end of a season, to her natal resting-place. fortunately a fair supply of birds had been gathered in, both on the outward and homeward journey, whilst the fishing had not been in vain. thus there was plenty to show to account for our industry. little did the natives reck the importance of the data and information thus collected, under their very noses, so to speak; or that anything out of the ordinary had taken place; or that risk of instant death had been laughed at and ignored by the two happy-go-lucky sportsmen, who appeared to them as mere overgrown schoolboys taking life as but a ray of sunshine and never seeming to regard it seriously. between themselves the trip was not talked about, nor was it ever afterwards referred to beyond one interrogation, and that was when the sweet music of the grating keel upon a danish beach announced our safe and successful return. "now are you satisfied?" asked christian. the laconic reply given him back was limited to one word--"quite." chapter xiv avoiding cold murder swarms of bagmen--jesuitical methods--mysterious disappearances--unaccountable accidents--avoiding a duel--fascinated by a hungarian--a ludicrous traveller--fracas at a theatre--insult, assault, and challenge--choosing weapons--difficulties overcome--fixing details--early travelling--dÉnouement--"am tag." germans in neutral countries during the war were circumspect. they swarmed everywhere, and never in the history of commercial enterprise since the world began were seen so many commercial travellers as the fatherland provided, at such "kolossal" expense and for such little return. nearly every one of those men without exception was in the direct pay of the german secret service. it was part of their work to nose into everything, to shadow everyone believed to be foreign to the land they visited, or who showed any sympathy for the enemies of germany, or antagonism towards their country. if they desired to or had received a direct order to stop by any means the activities of another, those men rarely came out into the open. they much preferred ways that are dark and tricks that are deep to achieve their desired ends. the depths to which their cunning sank had to be experienced to be believed. during the years and , when i was employed in the b.f.s.s. in northern europe, several most extraordinary accidents occurred, from which i had miraculous escapes. at the time i put them down to incidents. i think very differently now. verily prussian methods in all things seem to be jesuitical, in that it is believed the end justifies the means. if one of their employees in their own, secret service, no matter what his station of life may be, gets to know too much, his fate may be sealed by a secret sentence of death passed in the wilhelmstrasse, and the supreme penalty is inflicted in a manner unsuspected by the unfortunate victim. dr. armgaard karl graves records in his book, "the secrets of the german war office," how the woman olga bruder, whose death in an hotel on the russian frontier was returned to the press as suicide, was in reality poisoned; how young lieutenant zastrov was challenged to repeated duels until he was killed in one of them; and how others suspecting trouble avoided it by escape. otto diesel, we know, disappeared from the harwich boat when on his way to england to exploit his engines which the germans had bought. what happened to frederick krupp of essen, no one knows. presumably executive workers in the german secret service knew as much about these things as dr. graves did himself. perhaps it is part of their training and instruction to attempt to involve representatives of other nations with whom they come in contact and whose energies may be considered prejudicial or annoying to them, in quarrels or in brawls where a blow can be struck which it might be difficult if not impossible to trace. it must be more than a coincidence that secret service agents often find themselves in the middle of a small crowd where the pick-pocketing fraternity are undoubtedly represented. be as careful, polite, and inoffensive as possible, quick-tempered, irascible irreconcilables will at times attempt to pick a quarrel. boats, motor-cars, and other vehicles by which secret service agents travel often meet with mysterious and altogether unaccountable accidents, whilst a challenge to a duel, for some trifling cause, is an experience which more than one of them has had to endure and to evade as best he can. i chuckle now as i remember how i passed through one of these ordeals, not a hundred miles from the rathhaus of kiel. the incident took place very shortly before this world-war had actually begun. i have happily only received the very doubtful honour of one challenge since, which i insisted on treating as a practical joke, wisely absenting myself before developments could make the situation serious and untenable. both these incidents arose through polite assistance being rendered to a lady in distress. the former typically exemplifies german methods, whilst its details cannot be considered devoid of interest. i had for some years been prowling round on erratic wildfowling expeditions in the baltic and along the western coast of schleswig holstein. my operations were at times based from the esbjerg fjord, but i was no respecter of frontiers and there had been trouble whenever i had drifted too far south with the officious and zealous guardians of the german coast. i had previously, when travelling on business and pleasure combined, known trouble at both berlin and potsdam; later on at and near to hamburg. apparently i was not popular with a certain section of german officialdom. perhaps i had become too well known; that might or might not have been. anyhow, for a long period before the war all german officials showed nervous hysteria in relation to suspected espionage regarding any britisher who exhibited the smallest interest in the heligoland district or the western islands, kiel canal, and kiel harbour. yet i paid about as much attention to official fussiness as i would have done to a pinch of salt. one memorable winter i had travelled north as usual, little thinking that any adventure would befall me. at osnabruck, where the lower level railway connects up with the higher, passengers have to ascend a steep flight of steps, the only means of communication between the two platforms. a certain young lady of hungarian extraction, on the occasion in question, regarding whom it had better be stated at the outset that she was exceedingly fair to look upon and still more attractive in her manners, was overloaded with small hand-parcels and wraps. no porter was available, and common politeness dictated that such assistance as one was capable of rendering should be proffered. the natural sequence of events led to an informal acquaintanceship, and the journey was continued in a jointly-occupied _coupé_. this compartment was also shared by other travellers, including a small, extraordinary-looking eccentric who covered his head with a kind of wire entanglement resembling the skeleton framework of a lampshade, over which he drew a green silk cover in order to shade his eyes from the glare of the lamplight, so that he could sleep without any inconvenience. the whole thing looked so ludicrous that one's risible faculties were tickled. i laughed so much i had to retire to the gangway in order to relieve my feelings without hurting the stranger's feelings by outward rudeness. the aforesaid hungarian lady found herself in similar straits. mutual converse naturally ensued. ascertaining that kiel happened to be our common destination, what more natural than we should select the same hotel to stay at? after dinner, in order to kill time as pleasantly as could be, we visited a local place of amusement where a musical farce was being performed and the stalls were filled with military and naval officers. my companion had informed me that her father was the commander of a fortress on the baltic, that she had two brothers, one a lieutenant in the navy and the other in the army. whilst waiting between the acts a young officer of overbearing, vulgar, swaggering type, which zabern brought into world-wide prominence, entered our private box and claimed acquaintanceship. he was more or less intoxicated, and obnoxiously effusive. he would order champagne, and plenty of it, in spite of all protests to the contrary. he also fetched another officer, whom he stated to be a connection by marriage with the lady, but whom she failed to recognise or to remember. not appreciating nor being flattered by these attentions, an early attempt was made to cover a polite quittance with plausible excuses, but such an escape was not permitted. in due course, as the wine flowed, the officer's temperament changed from gushing effusiveness to the quarrelsome stage. instinct foretold unpleasantness, which was not long in the coming. the two officers first quarrelled between themselves, then one of them accused me of an unfriendly act. whether it was imagination or wilful design on his part i know not, but the accusation was followed by open insult in action as well as words. wishing to do everything i could to smooth matters over and avoid as much publicity as possible, i rapidly collected my companion's wraps and got her out of the box. as i was doing this one of the lieutenants threw a glass of champagne in my face accompanied by an epithet against which even job himself would have protested. it therefore became necessary to administer one of those gentle little all-british reminders, which landed home so unexpectedly and suddenly that the aggressor tripped backwards over the chairs and collapsed on the bosom of his companion, both falling in a mixed heap upon the floor. it was difficult to distinguish which limbs belonged to each respectively, intermingled as they were with the table, the chairs, the bubbling wine and broken glass. i escorted my lady friend back to the hotel. two hours later a couple of very serious middle-aged officers of some rank and distinction visited me. they demanded an audience with the foreigner and sent up their cards. they had come to arrange matters for their friends, and they refused to listen to any explanation or arguments relating to the true facts of the case. all they knew or would admit was that a blow had been struck, their uniform insulted, and the dignity of the two officers of the imperial forces had been rolled in the dust. satisfaction to both must be accorded at the first available opportunity and in accordance with the custom of imperial germany. as the principal actor in the affair happened to be a stranger in a strange land, the hospitality of two friends of unimpeachable integrity should be provided to his commands. meanwhile full apologies were tendered for the lateness of the hour of calling and for the rather informal procedure; but the visitors seemed over-anxious to fix preliminary arrangements, presumably as a caution against the possibility of any sudden departure. which of the usual weapons did i prefer? perhaps it is needless to say that my then inclinations leaned towards neither of them, nor to anything of a pugnacious character. i freely said so. they replied that "a choice must be made or a difficulty would arise which could not be easily surmounted. no; it must be in accordance with the recognised code of military honour." "very well, then," i quietly replied; "fists or single-sticks are good enough for me." the look on their faces seemed to imply that insult had been added to injury. such a proposal was most unacceptable and preposterous. they came back to the original weapons and insisted upon a selection being named, which i settled by telling them to provide both. their next proposition caused a deadlock to further negotiations. they wanted to fix the meeting in a named wood, some little distance from the suburbs of the town, at the early hour of six on the following morning. bowing very politely, i smiled. it was the first smile that had crossed the countenance of anyone of the participants at that memorable interview. "gentlemen," i commenced, "you may like early hours; they may agree with your constitution and methods of living, but you cannot persuade a civilian gentleman to rise until the world has been properly aired. we english are as regular in our habits as you may be. we go to bed at midnight. we are called at a.m., and we have breakfast--a good substantial repast _à la fourchette_--at a.m. we must read the morning's news-sheet. after a.m. we are at the disposal of our friends. you may have your own way in any other details or particulars of this unfortunate little misunderstanding you please, but upon this point i remain adamant." again i bowed to each of them, and although serious enough to all outward appearances, i was chuckling inwardly, because at last i saw a silver lining to the ominous clouds which had so suddenly and so unexpectedly enveloped me. the english nation flatters itself and is justly proud of its sporting instincts. but it looks with horror upon duelling as being little short of murder. our national sense of fair play and justice abhors the thought of any expert being matched against an amateur; more particularly in a contest where the skill of each party is unequal, or one of them can easily overmatch the other. i personally would never attempt the permanent injury of a fellow-being, unless forced into a fight and the doing of it was the only way of saving life. i knew nothing of swordsmanship, nor had i ever practised with the foils. as a revolver shot i was a very doubtful performer, and they are difficult little things to use at any time. i had no quarrel with the two unmannerly cads who had forced themselves uninvited and unwelcomed upon my privacy. all differences had been settled and wiped off the slate with one small wave of the arm. why, therefore, should i now seek their lives, or to do them some serious bodily harm? if anyone was aggrieved, surely i was entitled to all sympathy. why, therefore, should they now seek to destroy me? little did i know that "am tag" was hovering so near at hand. on these points, however, my mind was not only quite clear but it was quite made up. the meeting must be arranged for a.m. on the morrow or it must be postponed to some more convenient and suitable date. when my visitors shook their heads and demurred i became indignant. i reminded them of the condition in which i had left those whom they represented. i pointed out the obvious fact that the intervening time was not sufficient for them to sleep off the fumes and effects of the excess of alcohol which they were undoubtedly suffering from; whilst as a final and unanswerable argument i hammered home the fact that i had not yet been introduced to the gentlemen who would act as my friends at this very important meeting. if not an insult to them it certainly would be an insult to me, to be invited or even expected to meet in honourable (?) combat, opponents who were not perfectly sober, or who might be severely handicapped in consequence of the continuing effects of their over-night insobriety. i enlarged on this, speaking in latent sarcasm which, needless to say, was absolutely lost upon my visitors. perhaps it was best for my personal safety that it was so. their highly-educated super-kultur would prevent them from appreciating such, or understanding it. i said that any combat in which a preponderance of advantage rested on one side or the other could not be tolerated by any honourable gentleman, who never minded accepting odds, providing these odds were against himself. but he would consider it low and mean and altogether unworthy to take advantage of an opponent unless equality and fair play could be ensured. for my part i insisted that those whom they represented should have full opportunities of equal combat; in other words, that they should have time to get sober. these honeyed sentiments clinched the business. my visitors bowed most politely and replied, "having heard your explanations, we fully realise, as gentlemen speaking for and acting on behalf of gentlemen" (god save the mark!) "that we cannot do otherwise than accept your reasons and act accordingly." thus they agreed to fix the meeting by mutual consent for eleven the following morning, and with an exchange of courtesies on all sides we parted company. * * * * * according to the local railway time-tables, a slow train was advertised as departing south for hamburg at the early hour of a.m. or a little after; whilst a fast train, running between hamburg and the north of denmark, stopped a few minutes at neumunster about a.m. neumunster is the junction station for the kiel canal on the main hamburg, altona, rensburg, schleswig, flensburg, wogens, vamdrup, kolding line, and connecting up fredericia and copenhagen by the boat train _via_ esbjerg. * * * * * at . a.m., long before the hour of dawn, a silent shadow glided along the deserted streets of kiel. a meek voice at the palatial railway-station in very guttural german requested a third-class ticket by the slow train to hamburg. this modest traveller left the train at neumunster, but no one appeared to notice he had broken his journey, or that he quietly disappeared from view on the station platform until the fast northward-bound train bustled in. in fact, he was so muffled up, and he gripped his handbag so tightly, that he did not appear to be worth ten pfennig in return for any railway official's attention; whilst other travellers were far too occupied by their own concerns to trouble about his existence. * * * * * when the world had indeed become properly aired and the morning sun had risen far above the housetops, the landlord of a certain hotel in kiel might have been seen standing at the entrance of his hostelry. a self-satisfied smile suffused his fat face, and both his hands were dived well down into capacious trouser-pockets, wherein he kept turning over coin after coin, whilst he puzzled his slow-working brains in vain to find a solution to account for the mad eccentricities of all foreigners in general; in particular those lunatics who seemed to prefer night-travelling on any uncomfortable train to snug, warm beds; and who left notes of unintelligible explanation, enclosing double the remuneration necessary for the so-called luxuries supplied by his hotel. * * * * * about the same time a lattice window in an upper storey of the same hotel was thrown open, and a sweet-faced maiden, having an hungarian type of beauty, leaned out upon the window-sill, permitting the full rays of the morning sun to light up the beauties of her face, form, and figure. she was reading a letter which she had found pushed under her bedroom door whilst she had wandered in dreamland through the fairy glades of fancy during her innocent girlish repose. she frowned as she read it and stamped her foot in disappointment at the postscript, muttering the while to herself: "no, we shan't meet in paris next month, because i don't know whether i can get there. i'll come after you now." * * * * * at twelve noon, in a small clearing on the outskirts of a wood a few kilomètres from the town of kiel, three carriages were drawn into the seclusion of the tree-trunks. the horses attached thereto stamped impatiently. either they were very fresh or they had been waiting too long. further in amongst the trees was a party of men talking earnestly to one another. they were military officers, and a doctor was with them. they appeared to be expecting somebody to arrive, or something of importance to happen. at last one of them, kicking furiously at a small bush, asked his companion, a man much older than himself, "what was that idiotic proviso you spoke about? 'you cannot persuade a civilian gentleman to rise until the world has been properly aired'? we ought to have spitted him when we had the chance!" "my dear fritz," replied his companion, "you never did have the chance; what is still more clear to me now is the fact that you never will. but if he's one of those _swinehund engländer_--if so, then--_mein gott! am tag!_" saying which he viciously spat upon the turf. chapter xv escaping from a submarine a ship of ill omen--attacked--hell let loose--panic--fight for the boats--cowardly conduct--powerless to act--shrapnel at sea--surrender--taking charge of ship and carrying on--value of smoke-boxes--terrible anticipations--land at last--reminiscences untold. on one occasion, after i had left the british foreign secret service, i had to undertake a voyage to the outer islands of the hebrides, situated about one hundred miles into the atlantic, due west of scotland, and well away to the north-west of ireland. it was known at the time to be a place which was infested with german submarines, which had perpetrated many atrocities whilst operating in that region: senseless, coldblooded murder of innocent fishermen, by blowing up their frail craft to atoms at close range with deck-guns; and the sinking of innumerable ships irrespective of the chances of their crew to make land in the small boats that might be left undamaged by their shell-fire. it was summer time and no suggestion of a submarine attack troubled anyone concerned on contemplating the voyage. "i don't like that boat. she looks like a bird of ill-omen," i remarked to my companion as we stood on the high quay at oban looking downwards at a very small and very dirty steamer which was moored thereto. she was about one hundred and sixty feet long, with as much available space as possible devoted to cargo and cattle transit. her decks seemingly had never been scrubbed since the day she was launched. paint had been relegated to the background if superior tar was available. the saloon cabin, so-called, reeked with a conglomeration of ancient and nauseous smells, whilst the two private berths matchboarded off from it were altogether impossible to anyone holding the smallest ideas on sanitary principles. "well, my son, she's the only ship available. she is designated a mail-boat and she carries a thirteen-pounder aft, which is some consolation at least in these days of stress and submarines," replied my friend. "maybe, maybe; but for all that i don't like her. my prejudice is instinctive. she's about the most repulsive, uninviting boat i ever boarded, excepting an old coasting tub in alaska and a pirate junk on the yellow sea; but in europe one does expect a little more in return for even wartime passage money." "all the grumbling in the world, my son, won't alter or improve the accommodation of this hulk, so come along and make the best of it." i was silent. i selected one of the largest of my blackest cigars and lighting it with deliberation, proceeded aboard, and turning my back upon the private cabin which had been retained for my special occupation, i proceeded to make myself as comfortable as circumstances admitted in a space which was reserved for luggage at the far end of the saloon above the settee. it had the advantage of being situate immediately below the only skylight, which, as soon as the ship had started, i prised open and thereby obtained some few whiffs of fresh air during the long night. the following day brought about an improvement to the comfort of the travellers. the sun shone brilliantly, the sea was as smooth as a lake, and one could bask on the poop with some degree of comfort, although such things as deck-chairs or cushions were conspicuous by their absence. i, however, had a thick ulster, which, spread over part of the tarpaulin covering the mails, made an efficient couch, and after a coarse yet satisfactory meal i sunned myself to my heart's content and whiled away the time smoking and reading a book, which i was compelled from time to time to characterise as rotten reading, much to the amusement of my companion de voyage. according to regulations, a notice was hung over the main companion that the ship carried two lifeboats with capacity for thirty-three persons, eleven floating apparatus capable of sustaining one hundred and seventy-six persons, and her passenger allowance was stated to be one hundred and ninety-nine in all. how or where they could have slept did not seem to have occurred to the authorities. a merciful providence ordained that on this eventful voyage not more than one hundred people all told happened to come aboard at any one time. a few calls were made along the rock-bound coast. cargo was unshipped and more cargo taken in. travellers disembarked, others took their places. about midday all vestiges of land disappeared below the horizon and a course was steered for the open sea. although during the earlier part of the voyage many wrecks were passed and many a gallant ship of noble proportions could be seen piled upon the rocks, the result of german outrages, and the zone was known to be a particularly dangerous one, no one anticipated or thought of danger; least of all from the much-dreaded submarine. had not this obsolete and wretched apology for a mail-boat ploughed a weary course along this familiar route for many, many months during the war, whilst her engines wheezed and coughed and leaked in every pore, and her rusty plates collected weed and barnacles week by week, without molestation? was she worth a torpedo? she was hardly worth a shell! why should she be noticed now, even by the most amateur belligerent, or by the freshest novice at the game? yet to the hun who dreams of the glories of an iron cross, or other coveted decoration, a ship sunk is a ship to his credit, however insignificant that craft may be. suddenly and all-unexpectedly a low, resounding boom echoed across the waters, followed almost immediately by a whizz and a bang which made the ship's company jump and quake in their shoes. what was it? where did it come from? eyes were strained and the horizon searched in vain, whilst some of the women-folk sent up a premature wail of fear of the unknown. doubts were soon dispelled. from the sea about fifty yards away from the starboard quarter of the ship a column of water rose into the air, towering far higher than her masts. it was followed within a few seconds by a second boom, whizz, bang, and another column of similar dimensions rose equi-distant from her port quarter. "my god! it's a submarine," exclaimed my friend. "well, let her sub," i lazily replied, and i continued to read my much-abused book. i should explain to the reader that i had for quite a long time previously experienced attacks from bombs and shells, and i was not unduly disturbed by what i believed to be a mere casual temporary attention. "you can't lie there, man. get up!" and suiting his action to his words, he kicked me into activity, although according to him i was very slow to rise. "the book cannot be as bad as you say it is, if you can continue reading it like this," he added. "i know all about that," i replied, "but one must finish a paragraph." as i rose from my recumbent position the ship's gunner rushed up on to the poop, and climbing on the mails, searched the sea for the whereabouts of the enemy. "there she is!" he excitedly exclaimed, as he pointed to the horizon on the port quarter. "she's about two miles away. look out!" and he ducked as another whizz-bang sounded all too close overhead. we followed the direction he had indicated and observed, well below the horizon, a long, low-lying craft, upon the deck of which men were distinctly visible working the gun. shot followed shot in rapid succession and all around us great columns of water sprang into the air, the descending spray from which in some instances splashed our decks. our own gun, however, was soon in action and it plugged away merrily, seemingly giving as good as we received. the fourth or fifth shell from the submarine landed just short of our vessel's stern. the explosion jerked it upwards and knocked both our gunners off their feet. this was followed by a shrapnel shell which exploded a little higher than our masts in the air above and hissed into the sea all around. the glass in the saloon skylight was splintered to atoms, the din of the constant explosions seemed like hell let loose and the fear of god was located in almost everyone aboard. it was too much for the rough element--about sixty or more hebrideans, some of whom spoke little english. they made an ugly rush for the boats, shouting that the ship was doomed and every man must save himself. fortunately there happened to be three military officers aboard who had recently returned from the trenches in france. they tried to control the crowd, and acted with a quiet heroism worthy of much praise. all their efforts, however, were in vain. men pushed women aside or knocked them over, and fought like beasts of prey for places in the boats. by the efforts of the mate, who threatened the maddest of the crowd and fought strenuously for some discipline, an extra small boat was launched first, but about half a dozen frantic passengers jumped into her and without waiting for her complement pushed off from the ship. the two other boats left in the davits were filled with a fighting, snarling, swearing mass of individuals, some of whom hacked away with knives and a hatchet at the falls, whilst the great strain in weight put upon the davits bent them down like twisted wire. as the strands of the falls parted, the boats fell into the sea, shipping much water, whilst some of those left aboard jumped into them. some fell out of the boats, whilst others jumped into the sea and were pulled into them as they left the vessel's side all too dangerously crowded. it was a revolting sight; a memory that, however hard one may try to forget, must yet forever live; an act unworthy of all form of manliness, which can only remain a lasting shame to those whose selfish cowardice impelled their madness. with my friend, i stood near the funnel looking on. what could we do? had we, or had the officers had a revolver, the rush might have been checked, or possibly a life or so might have been sacrificed to try to save others. the man handling the axe probably might have suffered first. i did attempt one small effort. i approached the fighting mass and tapped a man, who was struggling ineffectually to get through, on the shoulder. when he turned round i asked him why he was forgetting the women and children. the man swore at me, adding, "women be damned! the boats are the only thing for us." then i asked him if he had a match. "what for?" he demanded. "to light a cigarette with, of course." "to hell with you and your cigarettes!" he yelled, and springing on the backs of those in front of him he crawled over their heads and jumped for the boat below as it was falling from the davits. i was gratified to see him miss the boat and plunge headlong into the sea. when all three boats were well away from the ship, those left behind, who could think at all, expressed their thankfulness that the rough element had departed. it gave the much-needed opportunity to talk quietly to many who were demented with fear, and to attempt to soothe others whose quiet weeping and wailing was heartbreaking to listen to. meanwhile the small thirteen-pounder aft and the submarine exchanged shots with ceaseless regularity. but the attacking craft appeared to have two guns in action. her shells came faster and the high explosive was from time to time varied with shrapnel. shrapnel is much more unpleasant at sea than on land. one sees it hiss down on the surface of the water like spray from a water-cart. whilst i was forward taking stock of the hatchway battens for possible floating purposes, i had two fragments pass all too close to either cheek--so close that i actually felt them. i put my hand up to my left cheek expecting to find it laid open, but the skin had not even been broken. a fortunate and most lucky escape. it was the nearest approach to an individual casualty throughout the scrap. when the panic crews in the boats appeared to be about a mile away a high explosive shell from the submarine actually scraped along the whole of the port side of our ship, bursting just in front of her fore-foot. i was forward again at the time getting some lifebelts from the fore-hatch. the explosion knocked me off my feet. everyone aboard felt the shock. the side of the ship seemed to be stove in, and the captain commanded a member of his crew to see what water the vessel was making. "you damn well go yourself, mister," was the reply he got; which showed the state of nerves aboard. being almost next to the man in question i volunteered to go, which seemed to somewhat shame the mutinous seaman, as he went below at once. then the captain did an extraordinary thing. he stopped his ship, hoisted a flag (the w) half-mast high, blew three long blasts on the siren, and came down from the bridge on deck. i met him as he descended the companion and asked him what he was playing at? "i mean to save what lives i can," he said. "the ship is holed and it is useless to carry on." "that's the way to sacrifice the lot," i told him. "you don't suppose those pirates will spare either ship or us." whilst we were slanging each other, a wild-eyed woman whose hair was all down her back clutched the captain and demanded him to surrender at once. "save us, save us!" she wailed. her embrace had to be forcibly removed. none of us aboard who took interest in life were agreeable to a stoppage of the ship or to a surrender in any form. we bluntly said so. but the captain claimed he was master aboard his own ship and should do as he thought fit. having thus delivered himself he proceeded aft and cut away the lashing of three small rafts, each about ten feet by four, which appeared to be the only hope of safety left for the forty or more people aboard. the engineers had stuck to their posts--all credit to their bravery!--but the ship, having lost way, was drifting broadside on to the submarine, which would soon have made her an easier mark to hit. whereupon one of the three military officers, a second lieutenant of infantry, as arranged quickly between ourselves, mounted the bridge and rang up the engine-room for full speed ahead. he managed to heave her round and got her going again; and very, very slowly she was made to steal further and further away. as soon as the captain realised his vessel was moving he went back to the bridge, reassumed command, and remained there. for emergencies there is no school of learning to equal that of wide-world travel. in a search for more floating accommodation my friend and myself went forward and released the heavy coverings of the fore-hold, which provided ten or a dozen good planks quite equal to surf boards, such as we had seen used by kanakas of the sandwich islands, and where we had participated with them in the joys of surf-riding on the pacific breakers rolling in over the coral reefs. it was undoubtedly a wise forethought. although the fighting lasted, from first shot to last, forty-two minutes, it but seemed a few seconds to those whose minds were occupied with the safety of the ship and the lives of all aboard her. we had quite a lot to do and we were kept busy. lifebelts had to be handed out and correctly put on, cigarettes obtained from below and supplied to all who cared for that form of nerve tonic, a great proportion of the terrified women pacified, and the rafts arranged on deck with a captain to each and fresh-water supplies provided. as soon as necessary matters had been completed i got hold of my friend, who was taking matters quite philosophically, and we ascended the poop together to help take observation of our shell fire. then we noticed that our gun-layer was serving the gun alone, so i slipped down to him to help get out more shells and to hand them up to his platform. after a few rounds someone shouted, "smoke boxes." at the moment i was struggling to the gun with a live shell, but i received a push from the all-too-energetic originator of the idea which sent me sprawling over a coil of rope and a pile of empty shell-cases. picking myself up as quickly as i could, i returned to the main deck in time to see the first of these useful and ingenious devices brought into practical utility. it was an oblong box, about three feet long and one foot deep, which was lighted at the end by a fuse, then thrown overboard to windward. others followed in quick succession. the smoke formed a light brown haze which with the help of a broadside-on breeze drifted across our wake and in a very short time obliterated our hull from the view of the deserting boats as well as those on board the submarine; which latter did not seem too desirous of following on, nor of decreasing the distance separating us. from statements made by those in the boats (one of which was not recovered until some five days afterwards), the flag hoisted to half-mast, the three blasts on the whistle, and the obliterated hull gave every appearance of the foundering of the ship. if they formed this impression, _a fortiori_, the germans, who were more than a mile behind them, must have been still more convinced that their shell-fire had done its dastardly work. this would also be strengthened by the sight of the three boats crowded with refugees rowing frantically away in the foreground; they must have appeared like rats (as they indeed were), deserting what they believed to be a doomed vessel. be it as it may be, after this the submarine ceased fire and submerged. our gun-layer also ceased fire because he could see nothing further to shoot at. those on board, although relieved of the horrible din of bursting shells and continuous gun-fire, were not happy. they were haunted by a deeply-rooted idea that the submarine had only submerged with the intention of concealing her course so that she could head off the ship and attack her again from another quarter. some were quite unable to conceal their anxieties. however, after the cessation of active hostilities a more hopeful and cheerful tone prevailed throughout. some of the engineers came on deck for a breath of fresh air, whilst those below redoubled their efforts to pack on every ounce of steam the overstrained boilers would stand. with much wheezing and groaning, jerks and spasms, the machinery ground away and the battered old tub really did appear to make an effort to get along. what her speed actually was is not likely to be known, but if the log had been used and had recorded anything over eight knots an hour her passengers would have doubted its accuracy. after sunset the elements favoured those of us on board who had certainly endeavoured to help ourselves. a rain-squall dropped from above, mists rolled up from the surface of the ocean which had hitherto been so calm and tranquil, and soon it became rough and unpleasant. womenfolk who had been sick beyond belief through fear and shell-shock now became genuinely sea-sick. perhaps it was a counter-irritant ordained for the best. as soon as firing ceased and the enemy had disappeared from view, i sneaked away alone to a coal-bunker, where i carefully buried deep under the black nuggets a small packet of precious documents which would undoubtedly have proved of absorbing interest to the hun. i thought this would probably be the last place anyone would be likely to look for anything of the kind, even if a boarding had become actual. on returning to my friend, i much amused that gentleman by reason of a rather argumentative dispute i was drawn into with a reverend raft captain regarding the salvage of certain fishing gear which i suggested would be the best help to kill the monotony whilst drifting and waiting to be picked up; assuming naturally that we were shortly to be sunk by the submarine. but by degrees twilight gave place to gloaming. sturdily the engines throbbed and the vessel pushed steadily ahead; whilst every eye that could, searched the sea around for any sign of periscopes. what a relief it was to all when the faint outline of land gradually showed up far ahead! greater still some hours afterwards when a bay was entered and the vessel reached safe anchorage. this, however, was far from the destination we had had in view, and however beautiful the scenery might be said to be, my companion and myself had no desire to linger there for an indefinite period. how we fared eventually; how the soul of one of our small coterie collected on a rock-bound island, a general recently returned from gallipoli, passed over the great beyond in a storm; how ships that passed and repassed were attacked by submarines and sunk or escaped; how wreckage, empty lifeboats galore and dead bodies daily piled up in the alcoves and on the rare sand-patches of the shore; how a wireless, with plant and adjacent buildings, was blown sky-high; how we were all burnt out of house and home, and other passing episodes of that short but adventurous trip, do not concern the subject-heading of this narrative. they remain another story. suffice it, therefore, to say that after a meal of sorts ashore a bargain was struck with some rough but honest island fisherfolk, whose knowledge of english was limited, although they knew well the value of a "john bradbury;" and an hour after entering that peaceful haven of refuge a small fishing-craft stealthily crept out to sea, steering northwards over the scene of our recent fight, where she was soon lost in the silences and the shadows of the night. chapter xvi the casement affair imputations--norwegian characteristics--casement's letter to sir edward grey--irish interests--surreptitious visits to the embassy--envoyÉ extraordinaire--£ , for casement's servant--casement's explanations, comments, kidnapping and murder allegations--sir f. e. smith on casement's life and actions--a bad mistake. in february, , a veritable bombshell was burst in the diplomatic circles of northern europe. a letter had appeared in the german newspapers containing very grave allegations against a british minister, extracts from which had apparently been sent round broadcast to the press of neutral countries. on wednesday, february th, the _aftenposten_ of christiania published the document in its entirety. other papers may have copied it, but the demand for copies immediately became so great it was difficult to secure them. those which were purchased were read aloud in public places and discussed and commented upon until excitement reached fever-heat. the general public in scandinavian countries knew little or nothing concerning the writer of the letter--sir roger casement. the _norske argus_ described him as "a man who had held positions; a british consul in various places in the colonies; consul-general in rio de janeiro; the exposer of the putumayo affair." in norway british consulships are most eagerly sought after, and considered enviable positions carrying high honour. the _norske argus_ stated that "sir roger casement belonged to the faction in ireland which had opposed the war and recruiting; that he had been to berlin to intercede with the germans for better treatment towards ireland if it came to an invasion of the british islands; and that he felt satisfied with the answer he had obtained from the highest quarters, that 'in such case ireland should obtain her full freedom'; and because of this visit the english were very bitter against him and in many places he was stamped as a traitor." now norway is a country infused with a very strong socialistic element. it holds deep sympathies with the irish, and believes them to be much abused and a much ill-used race. it knows nothing of the wildly absurd, headstrong obstinacy of certain irishmen who make it their business to stir up dissent and to oppose their best interests; or that they apparently do this out of sheer "cussedness." rightly or wrongly, norway believes that ireland is a poor, downtrodden country which during the past hundred years has received nothing but harsh and unsympathetic treatment at the hands of the english. hence norwegians, not being fully advised of facts, looked upon this bogus hero, who had voluntarily taken upon himself such great risks as his action and journey involved, in the light of a modern garibaldi, rather than as a traitor to his country, which he had and since has fully proved himself.[ ] in his letter sir roger casement stated that he landed from america on october th, , and that within a few hours of his arrival his abduction or murder was planned by the british minister personally. some norwegians looked upon this allegation almost as a breach of good faith with them and their country. they somewhat doubted that the representative of king george of england, the brother of their beloved and popular queen maud, could stoop so low as to be a party to such acts as were alleged against him in this letter. but they wanted and waited for a denial direct. there was no evidence whatever before them that this man (sir roger casement) had done anything contrary to the interests of england, or that he could well have done anything between the outbreak of war and the dates quoted. if he was a traitor or a criminal their own ministers and police should have been informed thereof and the man arrested and extradited for a fair trial. the alleged revelations thus came as a shock to the country, and consternation filled the faces of many thinking persons. translation of sir roger casement's letter to sir edward grey, as published in the _aftenposten_ on the th day of february [ ] "sir edward grey, "i understand that my pension has been the subject of an interpellation in the house of lords.[ ] i have already renounced my claim to the same upon going to germany to ascertain the german government's intentions towards ireland. in the course of the discussion, according to what i hear, lord crewe said that 'sir roger casement's behaviour deserves a severe punishment.' "this gives me an opportunity of clearing up once and for all the question under discussion, especially as i now am in possession of incontestable proof of the kind of punishment secretly meted out to me. i acknowledge that from the first day three months ago when i first set foot on norwegian soil, i was aware of your intentions, but it has taken me some time to get your diplomatic agent to give me written evidence of the assault that his majesty's government planned against me. "allow me first to show my own method of proceeding before comparing it with yours. between the british government and myself there has never, as far as i am aware, been any talk of a pension, reward, or order. i have served the british government truly and loyally as long as i possibly could. i resigned as soon as i found it no longer possible. as it also became impossible for me to enjoy the pension legally due to me i have also renounced it voluntarily, as i had previously given up the position which entitled me to it and as i now give up all orders and distinctions that have at different times been awarded me by his majesty's government. "i came last october from america to europe to see that my fatherland ireland should suffer as little as possible from the results of this luckless war, however it may end. "my point of view i have sufficiently clearly published in an open letter from new york dated september th,[ ] and which i sent to ireland for distribution amongst my countrymen. i have the honour to enclose a printed copy of this letter. it gives exactly my views which i still hold to and the duties which an irishman owes his fatherland during this crisis. "shortly after having written this letter, i left for europe. "the possibility of my being able to assist ireland to escape some of the horrors of war was in my opinion worth the loss of outward honour and my pension, as well as the committing the act of high treason in the technical meaning of the word. i had naturally reckoned on taking all personal risk and any punishment which the law could possibly threaten my actions with. i had, however, not considered that i should be sought after with means in excess of the law in spite of my action being without the moral limits. in other words, i reckoned with english justice and legal punishment and the sacrifice of name, position, and income, and willingly agreed to pay this price, but had not reckoned with the present government. i was ready to face a legal tribunal but i was not prepared against being shadowed, kidnapped by force, my servant being bribed, and that i, in short, might be struck down; i was, in fact, not prepared for the precautions your representative took upon hearing that i was stopping in this country. "the criminal attack which m. de c. findlay, the british ambassador, planned on the th in the british embassy, together with a norwegian subject named adler christensen, included all this and more. the plan included not only an illegal attack upon my person for the execution of which the british ambassador promised my servant £ , sterling, but also included an infringement of international law and common justice, and the norwegian was guaranteed by the english ambassador in norway that he should go free of punishment. "i landed from america on october th. a few hours after my landing a secret agent of the british ambassador approached the man i had taken into my service and whom i fully trusted, and conducted him in a private motor-car to the english embassy, where the first attempt was made to induce him to commit an act of treachery against me. "your agent at the embassy pretended not to know me and said he only wanted to identify me and get to know my plans. "as this attempt did not succeed, adler christensen the next day, october th, was accosted by a new agent and requested to go to the embassy, where he would hear of something to his advantage. the next meeting was conducted by the ambassador himself. mr. findlay went straight to the point. his assumed or real ignorance of my identity, as shown the day before, he now abandoned. findlay acknowledged that he knew me but declared that he did not know where i was going, what i was going to do, and what my intentions were. it was enough for him that i was an irish nationalist. he confessed that the british government had no proof that i had done, or intended to do, anything wrong which could give him right, either moral or legal, to interfere with my freedom. all the same, he was determined to do so. he therefore boldly and without further consideration used illegal means and gave my servant to understand that if i 'disappeared' it would be a very good thing for whoever managed it. he specially emphasised that nothing should happen to the perpetrator, as my presence in christiania was known to the british government, and that that government would protect and be responsible for those who effected my 'disappearance.' he suggested clearly the means that could be used, intimating to adler christensen that the man who 'knocked him on the head' would not need to do any more work for the rest of his life, saying, 'i presume that you would have no objection to taking it easy for the rest of your days?' my faithful servant hid the indignation he felt at this proposal and continued the conversation so as to become more fully acquainted with details of the assault being planned on my person. he remarked not only that i had been good to him, but that 'i absolutely relied on him.' "upon this absolute confidence mr. findlay built his whole plot against my freedom, norway's common justice, and the well-being of this young man, whom he tried to bribe with a large amount to commit a cowardly crime upon his well-doer. if i could be seized or disappear, no one would know it, and no question could be raised, as no one outside the british government knew of my presence in norway, and there was no authority from whom i could get help as the one authority would protect the accused and care for his future. thus, according to my information, spoke mr. findlay, the british minister, to the young man who was tempted into the embassy for this purpose. that this young man was faithful to me and to the law of his land is a triumph of norwegian straightforwardness over the vile manner in which the richest and mightiest government in the world tried to tempt him to treachery against both. "after thus having sketched out his plan, mr. findlay asked christensen to 'think it over' and 'come again at three o'clock if you agree.' "he gave him twenty-five kroner, just to pay the automobile with, and let him go. as i naturally was interested to hear how they proposed to get rid of me, i gave the man whom they had tried to bribe orders to return to the embassy at three o'clock and pretend to agree with the wishes of your envoyé extraordinaire. i advised him to 'sell me dearly' and demand a respectable sum for such a dirty job. christensen, who had been a seaman and naturally seen many strange people, assured me that he felt quite at home with his majesty's representative. he returned to the legation at three o'clock and remained alone with mr. findlay until nearly five o'clock. an exact account of the conversation will duly be sent to you and others. my servant pretended to agree to the british minister's plans and only demanded a moderate sum for his treachery. mr. findlay promised on his word of honour (this strange phrase was used to guarantee the transaction) that christensen should have £ , on his handing me over to the british authorities. "if by this abduction any harm should happen to me, or any personal injury be inflicted upon me, no question would be raised and full impunity would be guaranteed to the abductor. "my servant emphasised that i should travel in the afternoon to copenhagen, and he had already reserved my place in the train, unless he had some immediate opportunity to carry out the commission. "mr. findlay admitted that it would be necessary to defer the attempt until there appeared a favourable opportunity to lure me to the coast, to one or other place by the skagerak or north sea where there would be an english warship which waited to catch me. "he confided further in my servant the commission to steal my correspondence with my supposed colleagues in america and ireland, particularly in ireland, so that they could be made a party to the 'sympathetic punishment' which was intended for me. "he explained a system for secret correspondence with him which christensen should use and write through a confidential address in christiania, to which he should communicate the results of his endeavours to steal my papers and report my plans. "this address in christiania was written down in block letter capitals by mr. findlay on a half-sheet of the ambassador's letter-paper. this precaution, said he, would prevent the handwriting from being identified. "this document, besides kroner in norwegian notes which mr. findlay had given him as earnest money, with more to follow later, was immediately brought to me, together with a full account of what has already been told. "as i was obviously in a dangerous position i changed my plans, and instead of travelling to copenhagen i resolved to change the method of travelling and the route. "thus it was that i, with secret knowledge concerning the full extent of the crime which was planned by your representative in norway, left christiania on october th. "the remainder of the history is soon told. "you are doubtless apprised of all that happens, as you are both by telegraph and by letter in constant communication with your representative. "you also know the imperial german government's declaration which was published on november th last year in answer to my question. "the british government had, both through press correspondents as well as through special agents, allowed to be spread over the whole of ireland the lie that the germans began the most abominable crimes in belgium, and they had also pointed out that a similar fate awaited the irish people if germany came victorious out of this war. "your government's intention was to excite the irish to apprehend a predatory attack by a people who never had done them any harm and by false reports make them believe that this was their plight. it was my intention not only to obtain a binding benevolent assurance from the german government, but also to free my countrymen from the false position which this lying exciting campaign would develop; finally, as far as it stood in my power, i would prevent them from entering into an immoral conflict against a people who had never done ireland an injustice. "this declaration from the german government, which, as far as i know, was delivered in full sincerity, forms a justification for my 'treason.' i leave it to you, sir, to find justification for the british government's and the minister's criminal plan, which was fully prepared before i had even set foot on german soil and, furthermore, in a land where i had perfect right to remain, this plan, which was attempted to be carried out by the miserable means of bribery and corruption. "you will not find justification in the many conversations which mr. findlay in november and in december last year had after his own wish with my faithful servant. the correspondence between them couched in the ambassador's arranged cypher speaks for itself. these conversations have brought one thing to the light of day which i later on will make public. "it is certainly correct to say concerning all this, which passed between your representative and mine, with these opportunities, that you during the constant negotiations had half the thread in your own hand. "your object was, as mr. findlay openly has confessed before the man whom he believed he had bought, to get me out of the way in the most disgraceful manner. my object is to expose your plans to the whole world, and by the help of the agent whom you yourself have selected for your plans and whom you have attempted to bribe in order to get him to perpetrate an exceptionally vile crime. "once, when my man pretended that he was not satisfied with the sum which was bid him for the treachery, your agent ventured to raise the amount to £ , . i have a precise inventory of the negotiations put forward and the promises which were given in your name. "your ambassador has twice given a. christensen large money rewards--once kroner in norwegian money, another time a like sum partly in norwegian money and partly in english gold. on one of these occasions, in order to be precise, december th, mr. findlay handed to adler christensen the key to a back door in the english ministry so that he could come and go unobserved. this key i intend to return personally to the owner, together with the various money rewards which he has forced upon my servant. "the tales which mr. findlay told in these conversations would not deceive a schoolboy. all mentioned proofs of my plans and intentions which adler christensen produced, the mentioned letters, the fingered land and sea maps, etc., i must put together for my own defence to expose your criminal plan and thus come into possession of the indisputable proof which i now have. "first.--on january rd mr. findlay exposed himself thus, that he, in the english government's name, gave my betrayer a safe undertaking from himself in which he promised him reward and impunity from any punishment if he committed the arranged crime. this piece of writing is in my hands. i have the honour to enclose a photograph of it. "then, the english ambassador in norway obviously is in a position to give secret guarantees and safe impunity from punishment for crime, so i reserve myself for a time when i am not exposed to his persecutions to place before the norwegian authorities the original letters and the whole of the proofs which are in my possession and as glaring illuminations of the british government's methods. "i now permit myself, through you, sir, to surrender to this government my order of st. michael, the king george the fifth's coronation medal, and all the other distinctions which the british government has given me. "i am, your obedient and humble servant, "roger casement." englishmen in norway, or indeed throughout the whole of scandinavia, who could have given the true history of sir roger casement at that time might have been counted on the fingers of one hand.[ ] norwegians naturally argued that one side of a story was good until the other was told. meanwhile the newspapers did a remarkably fine business, as most editions were greedily bought up day after day and week after week, in the expectation of finding the reply of his britannic majesty's minister to the scathing indictment propounded against him. according to the _berliner tageblatt_, and other german newspapers, this letter was sent to sir edward grey on february st, but no answer had been received up to february th, when some of the most material allegations were being quoted in the press. nor did any answer ever appear, to the writer's knowledge, from sir edward grey, mr. mansfeldt de cardonnel findlay, or any other person; even after the letter had been re-published in full by the _aftenposten_ in christiania, and commented upon by other papers, and discussed from one end of scandinavia to the other by men and women in every station of life. that omission was publicly and privately stated to be a colossal mistake which would cost england, and the countries fighting by her side, very dearly indeed. one would have thought that mr. m. de c. findlay would instantly have sent a short explanation in reply to every newspaper in norway which reproduced any part of this fatal letter. he, however, remained in the seclusion of his castle on the hill of _drammensvei_ and observed a prolonged and unbroken silence. the honest, open-minded, and clean-thinking norwegian people were disgusted beyond words. they looked to him for an explanation as of right. they waited long, but they did not see, neither did they hear, a word of denial. sorrowfully but very naturally they actually began to believe these extraordinary accusations to be true in substance and in fact. now, references are made in this letter to "secret agents of the british ambassador approaching the man whom sir roger casement refers to as his servant." therefore the writer takes this, his first opportunity, of most clearly and emphatically denying that any member of the british secret service was in any way employed or engaged in this affair. such secret service agents as were then working in scandinavia were known to him (the writer), also their locations; not one of them was within hundreds of miles of christiania at the time of the alleged transaction. it should also be obvious that if any person exhibited such an amateurish display of incompetence and bungling as the accusations allege, that person would be more than useless for any secret service work, however simple it might be. it seems quite impossible to believe that any man could have acted as mr. m. de c. findlay is said to have done. what use was block letter-writing to conceal identity if it was cyphered on ambassadorial note-paper? why use english gold when norwegian money was available? why permit such a man to come near the embassy at all? why see such a man personally? why give a key to a gate, or a door, which could be left open? why give a scrap of writing or paper of any sort? why offer such ridiculous sums of money to a stranger, who, if he were such a man as suggested, would have accepted a fraction of the amount for such work? if an investigation of the alleged proofs could show there was any semblance of truth in this story, then, indeed, "it certainly would not have _deceived a schoolboy_," as the letter quotes. assuming, for the sake of argument, that an alien to a neutral country (whosoever that person might be or in whatsoever walk of life he might happen to be placed) had made himself a danger to the realm; that it might have been considered an advantage to the allies if he were kidnapped and taken to a place of safe keeping so that he could be looked after until peace was declared. what more simple and inexpensive than to bring about a consummation of such wishes? our friend nixie pixie, or jim, or another of that ilk, any one of those individuals could have acted secretly and absolutely independently. what could have been easier or more inexpensive than a quickly-cultivated acquaintanceship by a secret service agent with a person so named? a little dinner or light refreshment at a café, or a hall; drugged food or drink, followed by the natural announcement that one's companion was temporarily indisposed or suffering from a slight excess of alcohol; assistance to a cab or other vehicle, nominally to convey him home but actually a quick journey to the docks and quay side, with rapid transport to a friendly ship! thus such a job could have been accomplished for a few pounds without fuss, inconvenience, or publicity. it would probably not be wide of the mark to venture the statement that many a man has been, perhaps even now is being, temporarily detained in the seclusion of some lonely lodging upon far less pretexts than the alleged revelations of sir roger casement, until this tangled european skein be fully and completely unravelled. the annals of that grim fortress of peter and paul, the dungeon walls of which are washed by the turbid waters of the neva (wherein the author has had personal experience of his own), could perhaps add histories of some interest, but if they are to be told they must form the pages of another chapter. footnotes: [ ] roger casement was hanged as a traitor at pentonville prison on august rd, , after having been landed from a german submarine on the west coast of ireland. [ ] this letter was circulated in the berlin press on february th, and most of its material parts appeared in the london _times_ on february th, , having been officially circulated through german wireless stations and received by the marconi company. [ ] the interpellation above referred to is probably the following: on january th, during a debate in the house of lords on the national responsibility with regard to voluntary recruiting or compulsory service, earl curzon said: "i should like to mention the case of sir roger casement, which is one in which i take a personal interest, for in the old days at the foreign office i was his official superior. this gentleman went to germany after the outbreak of war, where he has been accused of disgraceful and disloyal acts. his friends wrote to the papers that not too much attention should be paid to those acts, as they were doubtful about his mental condition. since then his proceedings seem to me to have been characterised by perfect possession of his faculties. the last thing of which we have read is that he has prepared a pamphlet which has been printed by the german government and circulated by the german foreign office pleading for an alliance between germany and ireland. i do not desire to comment upon it; it is unworthy of comment, but i wish to ask if this official who has received a title is to continue in the enjoyment of his pension." the marquis of crewe, on behalf of the government replied: "i have no particular information in regard to sir roger casement. even if he is still entitled to a pension it is evident, from what we have heard of his whereabouts, that he is not in a position to draw it, nor is he likely to become so; but i agree that such action as he is reported to have taken ought to be followed, as far as possible, with the infliction of the severest penalties. with that i couple the melancholy reflection that a man who has done such good services in the past, assuming that he is still in possession of all his faculties, should have fallen so low as he appears to have done." [ ] no copy or trace of this letter can be found.--_author._ [ ] the following extract from the _daily telegraph_ lifts the veil as to the english position to october th, . sir f. e. smith, k.c. (attorney-general) was appearing for the crown at the trial of sir roger casement in opening the case for the prosecution, on june th, , before the lord chief justice of england and other judges, the charge being one of high treason without the realm contrary to the treason act, , and the account goes on: "after stating that prisoner was born in county dublin in , the attorney-general proceeded to recite the various offices he had filled as consul at rio de janeiro, lorenzo marques, west africa, the gaboon, congo free state, santos and para. during the south african war he was employed on special service at cape town, and when hostilities ended he did not refuse the queen's south african medal, although that was a war of which many irishmen profoundly disapproved. they might perhaps therefore assume that at the age of thirty-six the crimes and delinquencies of this empire had not engaged prisoner's attention or affected his intelligence. on june th, he was made a knight, and the same year he received the coronation medal. in august, , he retired on a pension. that pension had been honourably earned, and it would have been neither necessary nor proper to refer to it were it not for the sinister and wicked activities of prisoner which ensued. government pensions were paid quarterly, and on each occasion must be formally claimed by a statutory declaration setting forth the services for which the pension was awarded and the amount claimed. prisoner made five such declarations, the first on october nd, , and the last on october th, . "when notification was sent to prisoner by sir edward grey of the intention to bestow a knighthood upon him, this enemy of england, this friend of germany, this extreme and irreconcilable patriot, replied in the following terms: "'dear sir edward grey.--i find it very hard to choose words in which to make acknowledgment of the honour done me by the king. i am much moved by this proof of confidence and appreciation of my service in putumayo conveyed to me by your letter, wherein you tell me the king has been graciously pleased, upon your recommendation, to confer upon me the honour of knighthood. i am indeed grateful to you for this signal assurance of your personal esteem and support. i am very deeply sensible of the honour done me by his majesty, and would beg that my humble duty might be presented to his majesty, when you might do me the honour to convey to him my deep appreciation of the honour he has been graciously pleased to confer upon me.' "what happened to affect and corrupt prisoner's mind he did not know." sir f. e. smith then went on to describe sir roger casement's visits to the internment camps in germany, etc., which was after october, . chapter xvii pertaining to mystery ships "you british will always be fools and we germans shall never be gentlemen"--silhouette lifeboat for gun covering--a secret of the war explained and illustrated--more ideas for mystery ships described--secret thanks--successful results from camouflage at sea--the gratitude of the admiralty. the year saw much havoc at sea from the ravages of german submarines. i was located in the midst of it. i saw many a noble craft torpedoed direct or sunk by gunfire or mines. such is a sight which leaves impressions and gives much to reflect upon. the germans, i knew, adopted subterfuges to lure their victims to destruction. the british apparently scorned to descend to such levels. bitterly i remembered the words of the captured officer: "you british will always be fools and we germans shall never be gentlemen." it was maddening to know that all our acts of chivalry and knightly conduct throughout the war only provoked the mirth and contempt of our adversaries. something should be done to meet blow with blow, subterfuge with subterfuge, and violence with equal retaliatory force. the outcome of my reflections on this subject are hereinafter divulged. "_to_ "the admiralty, "whitehall, "london. "_june th, ._ "sir, "i would, with all deference, submit to your consideration a suggestion which has occurred to me as possibly worthy of trial. it is as follows: "in the port of ---- i observed trawling vessels fitted with guns conspicuously mounted upon a platform raised just abaft the funnel and over the engine-room, obviously for patrol purposes. "i assume that a german submarine could not but at once observe the gun and at a considerable distance, as it is raised well above deck-levels. she would naturally resort to the torpedo without coming to the surface and without warning. but if the submarine could be deceived that these trawlers were fishing vessels, or mine-sweepers, she would hardly waste an expensive torpedo when she could sink such insignificant craft by gunfire or bombs, and she might come to the surface to warn the crew to take to the boats, or to hail the vessel, thus giving a chance for our men to get a bit of their own back. "in my humble opinion the guns which are now mounted (twelve-pounders, i believe) on these trawlers could be concealed with the greatest of ease in more ways than one; and as the vessels are in all other respects unaltered in their ordinary appearance, i see no reason why the experiment should not be tried. also remembering that submarines as a rule attack at dawn or gloaming. "if i may be so presumptuous as to go further and outline one of the means of concealment foreshadowed, i would construct in light framework covered with painted canvas the sides of a small row-boat or lifeboat in two silhouettes, which i would place on each side of the gun, whereby it would be completely covered up. the stanchions erected round the gun platform i would unship, or if their continuance is essential i would mount imitation davits of painted steam-bent wood, which could easily ship or be jointed with hinge and hook fastenings, so that they could be unshipped at a moment's notice. to these davits i would add light blocks and tackles, so that in a few seconds the whole dummy show could be swept on one side and the gun brought into play. "i have carefully examined the platform and gun on one of these vessels and firmly believe that the idea is practical and feasible and would act effectively and to advantage. "when i was cruising in the baltic opposite kiel and femern (december-february) i was successful with somewhat similar devices of a simple nature, fitted to small boats, and calculated to deceive as to distances and in other ways, which originated the present ideas as soon as i saw our trawlers. "if you consider the idea worthy of a moment's further consideration, i would, if you so desired, at once set to work and have a working model made. i remain, your obedient servant, "nicholas everitt, "('jim' of the b.f.s.s.)" * * * * * intermediary correspondence and actions would not perhaps interest the reader. suffice it to say that my ideas found favour in the eyes of the powers-that-be, and i was given _carte blanche_ to carry my designs into effect. it may now be divulged that many weeks prior to the writing of the letter mentioned above i had confided an outline of my invention to a certain naval officer, a friend of mine in charge of a patrol-boat. we had between us manufactured a rough model from such materials as could be collected, which had been fitted to a vessel, and it had been effectively and successfully used in action at sea, although not officially known or recognised. now that i had free access to, and full authority to make use of, several admiralty yards for material and assistance, it was an easy matter to improve on former ideas and to produce a complete efficient and creditable result. * * * * * "_to_ "the admiralty, "whitehall, "london. "_july th, ._ extracts from my report "the completion of the model was pushed along as quickly as circumstances would permit, and the first week in july, , was fitted to a completed gun platform on the steam trawler ---- then lying in ---- harbour. "the silhouette boat and chocks which support it on the gun-deck are made all in one piece, the deception being brought about simply by shading in the painting. "the boat is held in position by the dummy blocks and falls above, and to the gun-deck below by short iron clips at the foot of the chocks, which slip into small iron sockets screwed on the gun-deck and so slightly raised that they are not noticeable. the two silhouette boats are kept firm by two iron connecting rods. "_to clear the gun-deck._--two men are required to handle the gun, which gives one man at each end of the boats. "to clear the gun-deck for action each man would simultaneously push up the iron connecting-rod between the silhouettes and at the same time instantly kick clear the clip at the foot of the chock from its socket. a slight push to the swinging boats releases the hinged davits, which fall backwards, pulling each dummy boat clear over the top of the lifeline stanchions, whilst they automatically drop into the bend of the davits, which holds them there until wanted for further deception purposes. "the boats can be pulled back and fixed into their original positions in about a minute, or even less time if necessary. "both sides of the dummy silhouette boats are covered with canvas and painted white with gunwhale streak brown, so both sides match each other. the gun should be laid pointing towards the stem of the vessel and the gun itself, mounting and pedestal, painted white. "then in whatever position (whether the ends are covered with canvas or not) the dummy boats are viewed, within ten yards or further away the deception is complete. "a very close observer, viewing the apparatus end-on, might assume that a couple of collapsible lifeboats were being carried aboard over the engine-room." * * * * * immediately after the official inspection (july th), which was said to be quite satisfactory, the vessel so fitted was ordered to sea, and in due course i received a registered letter marked "personal and private." the envelope covered an inner envelope also marked "private." the inner envelope contained a short note conveying the thanks of the lords of the admiralty to me, the inventor. [illustration: _sketch no. _ (taken at feet) shows the dummy boat in position ready to go to sea.] [illustration: _sketch no. _ (taken at feet) shows the dummy davits down, the boat gone and the gun deck cleared for action _within three seconds_ from the word of command having been given.] to what further uses, or with what results the design was utilised, remained as closely guarded a secret as the inner letter of thanks. * * * * * meanwhile i was more than anxious for active service which would give me a chance of getting at short grips with the dastardly submarines which i had hunted in the frozen north so long but never fairly and squarely behind a gun. further reflections caused the following letter to be written: "_to_ "the admiralty, "whitehall, "london. "_august th, ._ "sir, "since i wrote you with completed report on my gun-screen-dummy boat, submarines have continued to favour these waters in particular. three large steamers have quite recently been torpedoed. "they have sunk in this neighbourhood alone over fifty sailing trawlers, _every one_ bombed or sunk by gunfire, and _from the surface_, but not a mine-sweeper nor a patrol-boat seems to have been attacked! "there are plenty of sailing trawlers lying idle in ports. "i therefore humbly venture to suggest to the admiralty that if half a dozen of these were mounted with guns, covered by the dummy-boat-screen and manned by a small, smart crew, dressed in _ordinary fishermen's_ clothes (not the naval uniforms with gold braid and _white-topped_ ornamental caps, so much in vogue at present), those submarine pests would be caught napping without much difficulty; whilst the fishermen, who are mostly ruined, would at least feel that we had got a little of our own back with every pirate so sunk. "it would also be easy to place a motor and propeller in the vessel so employed which would help manoeuvring in no small measure; whilst as to manning them, there is plenty of material of the very best to select from for such a job--men who have been patrolling in gunboats and trawlers for a year without a smell of powder which their nostrils hunger for. i personally know plenty who would willingly abandon good positions and hail such an opportunity with eagerness; whilst, if the chance was given, i myself would willingly and gladly volunteer my services with them in the first boat sent out, or under them in any capacity, from the lowly cook or cabin-boy upwards. "if this seeming presumption on my part should be acted upon you may rely upon my wholehearted service for any assistance that i may be able to give in the fitting-out, etc., or otherwise, and it will be my pleasure to execute your smallest commands. "i remain, your obedient servant, "nicholas everitt. "('jim' of the b.f.s.s.)" * * * * * this letter only produced further "secret" thanks. the suggestion for active service was not responded to! cold comfort to one burning with such unquenchable desires. poor gratitude for services rendered. depressing recognition for future effort. but what could a mere civilian expect! it was the same in both services at that period of the war. civilians were as nothing; merely to be used as conveniences--if they had to be used at all. or as stepping-stones for service men to trample upon towards their own immediate advantage, utterly regardless of position, ability and status, and whether they had voluntarily or compulsorily sacrificed position, property, or dearer belongings. had any such ideas as these originated with a junior in the service he would have had to have taken them at once to his superior officer. that dignified individual would in all probability have personally commended him in private, then put forward the ideas to those above him with much weight, but at the same time conveniently neglecting to couple the name of the real originator. the secret annals of the service could many such a tale unfold. should a junior officer have dared to presume to have sent in his original ideas direct to whitehall, woe betide the day for his immediate future and his chances for early promotion. the above opinions are no flights of imagination; they are founded solely on many bitter complaints which have come direct to the ears of the writer from junior officers in both arms of the service, whose inventive ideas have either been summarily squashed by superior officers, or who have been compelled in their own future interests to stand aside, silent and disgusted, whilst they have observed others far above them taking what credit was to be bestowed for ideas or suggestions which were never their own, and often followed by decoration without any patent special service. * * * * * shortly before this book went to press the author happened to meet a naval gunner who had served for a prolonged period aboard mystery ships. he was most enthusiastic on the subject of camouflage, and he related how he had served in in a ship which had one gun only, placed amidships, which was concealed by a dummy silhouette boat. according to his account the stunt was great. he narrated in detail the completeness of the deception, the instantaneous manner in which the gun was brought into action, and the success which had attended the introduction of the idea. he affirmed that no less than ten submarines had been sunk during the first few weeks this invention had been first introduced. but, as he explained, one day a vessel so fitted was attacked by two submarines at the same time, one being on each quarter, and the secret became exposed. after that, he added, the germans became much more suspicious how they approached and attacked fishing vessels, and successes fell off considerably. it had been an admiralty regulation that when a submarine was sunk and its loss proved, the successful crew was awarded £ , for each submarine recorded, which was divided proportionately according to rank. submarines claimed to have been sunk run to over two hundred. many and various were the methods by which they were sent to the bottom of the sea; but so far as a number of inventors or the originators of ingenuity were or are concerned, it would appear that virtue alone remains their sole reward. * * * * * since this book was accepted for press my attention has been called, in the february number, , of _pearson's magazine_, to an article by admiral sims of the u.s.a. navy, entitled "how the mystery ships fought," in which he says: "every submarine that was sent to the bottom, it was estimated, amounted in to a saving of about , tons per year of merchant shipping; that was the amount of shipping, in other words, which the average u-boat would sink, if left unhindered to pursue its course. "this type of vessel (q-boats) was a regular ship of his majesty's navy, yet there was little about it that suggested warfare. _just who invented this grimy enemy of the submarine is, like many other devices developed by the war, unknown._ it was, however, the natural outcome of a close study of german naval methods. the man who first had the idea well understood the peculiar mentality of the u-boat commanders." extracting further paragraphs from admiral sims' article: "there is hardly anything in warfare which is more vulnerable than a submarine on the surface within a few hundred yards of a four-inch gun. a single well-aimed shot will frequently send it to the bottom. indeed, a u-boat caught in such a predicament has only one chance of escape; that is represented by the number of seconds which it takes to get under water. "clearly the obvious thing for the allies to do was to send merchant ships armed with hidden guns along the great highways of commerce. the crews of these ships should be naval officers and men disguised as merchants, masters, and sailors." at p. of the magazine admiral sims refers directly to my invention as described and illustrated: "platforms were erected on which guns were emplaced; a covering of tarpaulin completely hid them; yet a lever pulled by the gun crews would cause the sides of the hatchway covers to fall instantaneously. _other guns were placed under lifeboats, which, by a similar mechanism, would fall apart_ or rise in the air exposing the gun. "from the greater part of from twenty to thirty of these ships (q-boats) sailed back and forth in the atlantic." the february number of the _wide world magazine_, p. , also contained a most interesting article by captain frank h. shaw entitled, a "q," and a "u," in which he describes how he personally helped to sink a submarine with the aid of a camouflage apparatus on the lines of my invention as illustrated: "meanwhile the fitters were making most of their opportunities aboard the _penshurst_ (the q-boat in question). a useful twelve-pounder gun--one of the best bits of ordnance ever devised for short range work--was mounted on the fore-deck. a steel ship's lifeboat was cut in two through the keel, and so faked that on pulling a bolt, the two halves would fall clear away. this dummy boat was then put in place over the twelve-pounder and effectively concealed its presence. "so far as the outward evidence was concerned, the _penshurst_ was simply carrying a spare lifeboat on deck--a not unnecessary precaution, considering the activity of the enemy submarines." captain shaw describes in stirring narrative and vivid detail how a submarine held up his ship, how part of their crew abandoned the ship, and how the hun boat was lured well within easy gun-fire range, and how my ideas worked in practice: "_the foredeck boat opened beautifully like a lily and the gun came up, with its crew gathered round it._ the twelve-pounder was not a second behind its smaller relative. her gunlayer, too, was a useful man. he planted a yellow-rigged shell immediately at the base of fritz's conning-tower. it exploded there with deafening report and great gouts of water flew upwards with dark patches amongst the foam." * * * * * by my friends i was disparaged for foolishness in not putting forward a claim for compensation in connection with these ideas, followed by an accepted invention of recognised utility. in the u.s.a. in the spring of i heard this invention considerably lauded; in new york, boston, and washington. it was also described and illustrated in certain american periodicals. if the figures given by admiral sims are true estimates, and, say, only twenty-five submarines were sunk by the direct assistance of this simple contrivance, then it follows that about , , tons of shipping were saved each year it was in active use. eventually i communicated with admiral w. r. hall, c.b., through whom i had submitted my suggestions in the first instance. from him i received a charming letter in which he regretted the matter had passed beyond his department. therefore on january th, , i wrote to the secretary of the admiralty referring by number to previous letters conveying the _secret_ thanks of the lords of the admiralty to me in and asking him whether (now that the war was over) i was entitled to any recognition for this invention, and if so, how and to whom i should apply. i wrote again on april th, asking for a reply to my previous letter, but being only a civilian, i suppose he did not consider either myself or the subject matter i enquired about worthy even of simple acknowledgment. chapter xviii the sinking of the "lusitania" by german treachery how the dastardly deed was planned--commemoration medal prematurely dated--sinking announced in berlin before the vessel was attacked--german joy at the outrage--british secret code stolen--violations of american neutrality--false messages--authority for the facts. so long as the memory of mortal man endures, this dastardly act of german treachery will never be forgotten. on may th, , the ss. _lusitania_, a passenger ship of , tons of the cunard line, was sunk by torpedoes, fired at short range from a german submarine off kinsale. she carried on board , passengers and a crew of about hands. from this number , were drowned, including americans and a large number of women and children. it is no exaggeration to say that the event staggered the humanity of the world, yet the _kölnische volkeszeitung_ on may th, , stated: "with joyful pride we contemplate this latest deed of our navy," etc. the commander of the submarine which struck the fatal blow was decorated, and a special medal was struck in the fatherland commemorating the event, and dated may th--_two days before she was actually attacked and sunk_. a copy of it is now before the writer. it was struck with the object of keeping alive in german hearts the recollection of the german navy in deliberately destroying an unarmed passenger-ship together with , non-combatants, men, women, and children. on the obverse, under the legend "no contraband" (_keine banvare_), there is a representation of the _lusitania_ sinking. the designer has put in guns and aeroplanes, which (as certified by united states government officials after inspection) the _lusitania_ did _not_ carry, but he has conveniently omitted to put in the women and children, which the whole world knows she did carry. on the reverse, under the legend "business above all" (_geschäft über alles_), the figure of death sits at the booking-office of the cunard line, and gives out tickets to passengers who refuse to attend to the warning against submarines given by a german. this picture seeks apparently to propound the theory that if a murderer warns his victim of his intention, the guilt of the crime will rest with the victim, not with the murderer. how the foul deed was plotted and accomplished is told in concise and simple language by mr. john price jones in his book entitled, "the german spy in america," which has an able introduction by mr. rogers b. wood, ex-united states assistant attorney at new york; also a foreword by mr. theodore roosevelt. summarising detail and extracting bare facts from mr. price jones' work, it is shown that germany had made her preparations long before war was declared. she had erected a wireless station at sayville with thirty-five kilowatt transmitters and had obtained special privileges which the u.s. government never dreamed would be so vilely abused. soon after the declaration of war, germany sent over machinery for tripling the efficiency of the plant, _via_ holland, and the transmitters were increased to a hundred kilowatts. the whole plant was in the hands of experts drawn from the german navy. on april nd, , the german ambassador at washington, by direction of baron von bernstorff, inserted notices by way of advertisement warning travellers not to go in ships flying the british flag or that of her allies, whilst many of the ill-fated passengers received personally private warnings; for example, mr. a. g. vanderbilt had one signed "morte." it is also stated than one of the german spies who had helped to conceive this diabolical scheme actually dined, the same evening the vessel sailed, at the home of one of his american victims. the sinking of the vessel was also published in the berlin newspapers before she had actually been attacked. on reaching the edge of the war-zone, captain turner, who was in charge of the _lusitania_, sent out a wireless message for instructions in accordance with his special orders. by some means unknown the german government had stolen a copy of the secret code used by the british admiralty. a copy of this had been supplied to sayville, which used it (_inter alia_) to warn captain turner against submarines off the irish coast--which evidence was revealed at the inquest. sayville was very much on the alert, looking out for and expecting captain turner's request for orders. as soon as it was picked up the return answer was flashed to "proceed to a point _ten miles_ south of old head of kinsale and run into st. george's channel, making liverpool bar at midnight." the british admiralty also received captain turner's call and sent directions "to proceed to a point _seventy to eighty miles_ south of old head of kinsale and there meet convoy." but the british were slow and the germans rapid. captain turner received the false message instead of the genuine one, and over a thousand unfortunate beings were sent to their doom. at the inquest the two messages were produced and the treachery became apparent. further investigations pointed direct to sayville, long island, new york, to which place the plot was traced. the german witnesses who swore the _lusitania_ had guns aboard her were indicted in america and imprisoned for perjury. to use the wireless for any such cause as above described was contrary to and in violation of neutrality laws; also of the united states of america's statutes governing wireless stations. in many chapters full of vivid detail mr. price jones gives extraordinary particulars of conspiracies and plots against persons and property. in scathing terms he condemns captain franz von papen, von igel and koenig, captain karl boy-ed, captain franz von rintelen, dr. heinrich f. albert and ambassador dumba as spies, conspirators, or traitors; men without conscience, whom no action, however despicable, would stop. chapter xix ministerial, diplomatic, and consular failings ambassadors selected by influence, not merit--german embassies headquarters of espionage--how english embassies hampered secret service work--bernhardi on the blockade--england's open doors--a minister's failings--british vice-consul's scandalous remuneration--alien consuls--how italy was brought into the war--how the sympathies of turkey and greece were lost--the failure of sir edward grey--asquith's procrastination. the press, it will be remembered, was during the first few years of the war periodically almost unanimous in its outcry against the government, particularly the foreign office. having regard to the facts quoted, well might it be so. but the foreign office is somewhat in the hands of its ambassadors and ministers abroad, who unfortunately sometimes appear to put their personal dignity before patriotism, and threaten to resign unless some ridiculous, possibly childish, whim is not forthwith complied with. it seems hard to believe such things can be in war-time; yet it was so. if our ambassadors and ministers were selected by merit, and not by influence, a vast improvement would at once become apparent, and such things as were complained of would not be likely to occur or be repeated. one press writer pointed out that "great britain lacked a watchful policeman in scandinavia." perhaps he will be surprised to learn that about the most active non-sleeping watchmen that could be found were there soon after war started. but these watch-dogs smelt out much too much, and most of them were caught and muzzled, or driven away, or chained up at the instigation of the embassies. the heaviest chains, however, get broken, whilst the truth will ever out. naturally one embassy would keep in constant touch with another, and with regard to this question of supplying the enemy all three scandinavian embassies knew, or should have known to a nicety, precisely what was doing in each country. we in the secret service had been impressively warned before leaving england to avoid our ambassadors abroad as we would disciples of the devil. in so far as we possibly could we religiously remembered and acted upon this warning. but the cruel irony of it was, our own ministers would not leave us alone. they seemed to hunt us down, and as soon as one of us was located, no matter who, or where, or how, a protest was, we were told, immediately sent to the foreign office, followed by hints or threats of resignation unless the secret service agent in question was instantly put out of action or recalled to england. i was informed that several of my predecessors had been very unlucky in denmark. one had been located and pushed out of the country within a few hours of arrival. another i heard was imprisoned for many months. i was further very plainly told by an english official of high degree that if the british minister at ---- became aware of my presence and that i was in secret service employ, if i did not then leave the country within a few hours of the request which would with certainty be made, i would be handed over to the police to be dealt with under their newly-made espionage legislation. considering that the german legations in scandinavia increased their secretaries from the two or three employed before the war to twenty or thirty each after its outbreak; considering that it was a well-known fact, although difficult to prove, that every german embassy was the local headquarters of their marvellously clever organisation of secret service[ ] against which our legations possessed rarely more than one over-worked secretary, whilst the british embassies were a menace rather than a help to our secret service, it did seem to us, working on our own in england's cause, a cruel shame that these men, who posed not only as englishmen but also as directly representing our own well-beloved king, should hound us about in a manner which made difficult our attempts to acquire the knowledge so important for the use of our country in its agony and dire peril. dog-in-the-manger-like, they persisted in putting obstacles in the way of our doing work which they could not do themselves and probably would not have done if they could. if unearthing the deplorable details of the leakage of supplies to germany evoked disgust and burning anger in the breast of mr. basil clarke, the special commissioner of the _daily mail_, surely i, and those patriotically working in conjunction with me, always at the risk of our liberty and often at the risk of our lives, might be permitted to feel at least a grievance against the foreign office for its weakness in listening to the protests of men like these, his britannic majesty's ministers abroad; real or imaginary aristocrats appointed to exalted positions of great dignity and possibly pushed into office by the influence of friends at court, or perhaps because, as the possessors of considerable wealth, they could be expected to entertain lavishly although their remuneration might not be excessive. had they remembered the patriotism and devotion to their king and country which the immortal horatio nelson showed at copenhagen a hundred years previously, they too could just as easily have applied the sighting glass to a blind eye, and have ignored all knowledge of the existence of any secret service work or agents; unless, of course, some unforeseen accident or circumstance had forced an official notice upon them. the foreign office would have lost none of its efficiency or its dignity, had it hinted as much when these protests arrived; whilst england would to-day have saved innumerable lives and vast wealth had some of the british ministers in the north of europe resigned or been removed, and level-headed, common-sensed, patriotic business men placed in their stead as soon after war was declared with germany as could possibly have been arranged. that the germans themselves never believed england would be so weak as to give her open doors for imports is expressed by general bernhardi in his "germany and the next war." he writes: "it is unbelievable that england would not prevent germany receiving supplies through neutral countries." the following extract is from p. : "it would be necessary to take further steps to secure the importation from abroad of supplies necessary to us, since our own communications will be completely cut off by the english. the simplest and cheapest way would be if we obtained foreign goods through holland, or perhaps neutral belgium, and could export some part of our products through the great dutch and flemish harbours.... our own overseas commerce would remain suspended, but such measures would prevent an absolute stagnation of trade. it is, however, very unlikely that england would tolerate such communications through neutral territory, since in that way the effect of her war on our trade would be much reduced.... that england would pay much attention to the neutrality of weaker neighbours when such a stake was at issue is hardly credible." to understand what was actually permitted to happen the reader is referred to the succeeding chapter. what possible excuse is there which any man, that is a man, would listen to, that could be urged in extenuation of this deplorable state of affairs and of its having been permitted to exist and to continue so long without drastic alteration? our foreign office, hence presumably the government, were fully informed and knew throughout exactly what was going on. every secret service agent sent in almost weekly reports from october, , onwards, emphasising the feverish activity of german agents, who were everywhere buying up supplies of war material and food at ridiculously high prices and transferring them to germany with indecent haste. cotton[ ] and copper were particularly mentioned. imploring appeals were sent home by our secret service agents for these to be placed on the contraband list; but no minister explained to the nation why, if it were feasible to make them contraband a year after the war commenced, it was not the right thing to have done so the day after war was declared. german buyers openly purchased practically the whole product of the norwegian cod fisheries _at retail prices_; also the greater part of the herring harvests. germany absorbed every horse worth the taking, and never before in the history of the country had so much export trade been done, nor so much money been made by her inhabitants. the same may be said of sweden, with the addition that her trading with germany was even larger. the british ministers in scandinavia seemed to carry no weight with those with whom they were brought in contact. their prestige had been terribly shaken by reason of the decision to ignore entirely the casement affair. an ambassador of a then powerful neutral country referred to one of them as "what you english call a damned fool." it was only the extraordinary ability and excellent qualities of some of the subordinates at the chancelleries which saved the situation. all this had its effect in these critical times. i, who was merely a civilian britisher and not permanently attached to either the army or the navy, and hence was not afraid to refer to a spade as a spade, was called upon continually by others in the service to emphasise the true state of affairs with the foreign office. those with whom i associated in the secret service agreed that if the ministers in scandinavia could be removed and good business men instated at these capitals it would make a vast amount of difference to germany and considerably hasten along the advent of peace. but by reason of circumstances which cannot well be revealed in these pages, my hands were tied until such time as i could get to london in person. in march, , i attended whitehall, where i in no unmeasured terms stated hard convincing facts and explained the exact position in the north of europe. i strongly emphasised the vital importance of stopping the unending stream of supplies to germany and of making a change at the heads of the legations mentioned. direct access to sir edward grey was denied me, but an official of some prominence assured me the essential facts should be conveyed to proper quarters without delay, although the same complaints had previously been made _ad nauseam_. but facts have proved that no notice whatever of these repeated warnings was taken, and matters went from bad to worse. on june st, , i had returned again to england, and i wrote direct to sir edward grey, at the foreign office, a letter, material extracts from which are as follows: "sir, "being now able to speak without disobedience to orders, i am reporting a serious matter direct to you from whom my recommendation for government service originates. * * * * * "it is exceedingly distasteful having to speak in the semblance of disparagement concerning anyone in his majesty's service, and i am only anxious to do what i believe to be right and helpful to my country, whilst i am more than anxious to avoid any possibility of seemingly doing the right thing in the wrong way. but it is inconceivable that any englishman should push forward his false pride, or be permitted to place his personal egoism, before his country's need; more particularly so at the present crisis, when every atom of effort is appealed for. "---- now being _a centre and a key to so many channels through which vast quantities of goods_ (as well as information) _daily leak to germany_, the head of our legation has become a position of vital importance. much of the present leakage is indirectly due to the present minister, in whom england is indeed unfortunate. "i therefore feel that, knowing how much depends upon even little things, it is my bounden duty to place the plain truth clearly before you. i have often before reported on this, so far as i possibly could, but those whom i could report to were all so fearful of the influences or opinions of the all-too-powerful gentleman in question, that none of them dare utter a syllable concerning his status or his foolish actions--although in secret they sorrowfully admit the serious effects. " . since the commencement of the war ---- has committed a series of indiscretions and mistakes, entailing a natural aftermath of unfortunate and far-reaching consequences. " . since february, , he has stood discredited by the entire ---- nation, and in other parts of scandinavia. " . he is bitterly opposed to the secret service and paralyses its activities, although he states that his objections lie against the department and not individuals. * * * * * "in conclusion, please understand that i am in no way related to that hopeless individual, 'the man with a grievance,' but, being merely a civilian and having nothing whatever to expect, nor to seek for, beyond my country's ultimate good, i can and dare speak out; whilst the fact that in the course of my duty i went to kiel harbour (despite the german compliment of a price on my head), should be sufficient justification of my patriotism and give some weight to my present communication. "i have the honour to remain, "your obedient servant, "nicholas everitt. "('jim' of the b.f.s.s.)" * * * * * it seems hard to believe, but this letter was passed unheeded, not even acknowledged. a week later, on june th, i wrote again, pointing out the importance to the state of my previous communication and emphasising further the danger of letting matters slide. both these letters were received at whitehall or they would have been returned through the dead letter office. what possible reason could there be behind the scenes that ordered and upheld such a creed as _ruat coelum supprimatur veritas_? or can it be ascribed to the much-talked-of mysterious hidden hand? my letters pointed only too plainly to the obvious fact that i had information to communicate vital to the welfare of the state, which was much too serious to commit to paper; serious information which subservients in office dared not jeopardise their paid positions by repeating or forwarding; information which affected the prestige of our own king; information which might involve other countries in the war, on one side or the other; information which it was the plain duty of the foreign secretary to lose no time in making himself acquainted with. yet not a finger was lifted in any attempt to investigate or follow up the grave matters which i could have unfolded, relating to the hollowness of the sham blockade with its vast leakages, which the government had taken such pains to conceal, and to other matters equally vital which i foreshadowed in my letter, and which might have made enormous differences to the tide of battle and to the welfare of nations. no wonder the press of all england made outcry against the foreign office, as and when some of the facts relating to its dilatoriness, its extreme leniency to all things german, and its muddle and inefficiency in attending _in time_ to detail gradually began to become known. abroad i had heard the f.o. soundly cursed in many a consulate and elsewhere. i had, however, hitherto looked upon sir edward grey as a strong man in a very weak government, a man who deserved the gratitude of all englishmen and of the whole empire for great acts of diplomacy; the man who had saved england from war more than once; and the man who had done most to strive for peace when the germans insisted upon bloodshed. i would have wagered my soul that sir edward grey was the last man in england, when his country was at war, who would have neglected his duty, or who would have passed over without action or comment such a communication as i had sent him. i waited a time before i inquired. then i heard that sir edward grey was away ill, recuperating his health salmon-fishing in n.b. but there were others. upon them perhaps the blame should fall. the foreign office knew of, and had been fully advised, that the so-called blockade of germany by our fleet was a hollow sham and a delusion from its announced initiative. it was also fully aware that the leakages to germany, instead of diminishing, increased so enormously as to create a scandal which it could hardly hope to hide from the british public. why, then, were these ministers abroad allowed to remain in office, where they had been a laughing-stock and were apparently worse than useless? it can only be presumed that they also had been ordered to "wait and see." perhaps our ministers, particularly at the foreign office, believed that they could collect, through the medium of our consulate abroad, practically all the information that it was necessary for our government to know. in peace times this might have been probable. these self-deluded mortals seemed to have forgotten entirely that we were at war. furthermore, it must be admitted to our shame that our english consular service in some places abroad is the poorest paid and the least looked-after branch of government service of almost any nation. sir george pragnell, speaking only a few days before his lamentably sudden and untimely end, at the great meeting called by the lord mayor of london at the guildhall on january st, , a meeting of the representatives of trade and commerce from all parts of the british empire, said: "our business men maintained that our consular service should consist of the best educated and the most practical business men we could turn out. not only should these men be paid high salaries, but i would recommend that they should be paid a commission or bonus on the increase of british trade in the places they had to look after." if this sound, practical wisdom had only been propounded and acted upon years ago the benefits that england would have derived therefrom would have been incalculable. but look at the facts regarding the countries where efficient and effective consular service was most wanted during the war. in scandinavia there were gentlemen selected to represent us as british _vice-consuls_ who received a _fixed salary of £ per annum_, in return for which they had to _provide office_, _clerks_, _telephone_, and other incidentals. although the fees paid to them by virtue of their office and the duties they performed may have amounted to several hundred pounds per annum, they were compelled to hand over the whole of the fruits of their labours to the english government, which thus made a very handsome profit out of its favours so bestowed. our foreign office apparently considered that the honour of the title "british vice-consul" was quite a sufficient recompense for the benefits it demanded in return, the laborious duties which it required should be constantly attended to, and the £ to £ or more per annum which their representatives were certain to find themselves out of pocket at the end of each year. soon after the war commenced one or two members of the service were removed from the largest centres and other men introduced, presumably on a special rate of pay; but in almost all the vice-consulates the disgracefully mean and unsatisfactory system above mentioned seemed to have been continued without any attempt at reformation. is it to be wondered at that so many vice-consuls who are not englishmen did not feel that strong bond of sympathy either with our ministers abroad or with our ministers at home, which those who have no knowledge of the conditions of their appointment or of their service might be led to expect existed between them? further light is shown upon this rotten spot in our governmental diplomacy management abroad by an article entitled "scrap our alien consuls," written by t. b. donovan and published in a london paper, february th, , short extracts from which read as follows: "look up in whitaker's almanack for our consuls in the german empire before the war--and cease to wonder that we were not better informed. out of a total of forty old british consuls more than thirty bear german names! other nations were not so blind.... glance through the following astounding list. in sweden, twenty-four out of thirty-one british consuls and vice-consuls are non-englishmen; in norway, twenty-six out of thirty; in denmark, nineteen out of twenty-six; in holland and its colonies, fourteen out of twenty-four; in switzerland nine out of fourteen--and several of the few englishmen are stationed at holiday resorts where there is no trade at all. "and we are astonished that our blockade 'leaks at every seam'!... "this type of british consul must be replaced by keen britishers who have the interests of their country at heart and who are at the same time acquainted with the needs of the districts to which they are appointed. if we could only break with red tape, we could find numerous men, not far beyond the prime of life, but who have retired from an active part in business, who would gladly accept such appointments and place their knowledge at the disposal of their fellows.... "the state of things in our consular service is such as no business man would tolerate for a moment." turning attention to our diplomacy on the shores of the mediterranean and the near east, those in the secret service knew that during the early days of the war at least our foreign office had nothing much to congratulate itself upon with regard to its representatives in italy. for the first eight months of war an overwhelming volume of supplies and commodities, so sought after and necessary to the central powers, was permitted to be poured into and through that country from all sources. even the traders of the small northern neutral states became jealous of the fortunes that were being made there. daily almost they might be heard saying: "why should i not earn money by sending goods to germany when ten times the amount that my country supplies is being sent through italy?" the tense anxiety, the long weary months of waiting for italy to join the entente, are not likely to be forgotten. when at last she was compelled to come in, it was not british cleverness in diplomacy that caused her so to do, but the irresistible will of her own peoples, the men in the streets and in the fields; the popular poems of signor d'annunzio, which rushed the italian government along, against its will, and as an overwhelming avalanche. the popular quasi-saint-like shade of garibaldi precipitated matters to a crisis. "it is interesting as an object lesson in the ironies of fate to compare the fevered enthusiasm of the sonnino of for the cultured germans and austrians, and his exuberant hatred of france, with the cold logic of the disabused sonnino of , who suddenly acquired widespread popularity by undoing the work he had so laboriously helped to achieve a quarter of a century before. european history, ever since germany began to obtain success in moulding it, has been full of these piquant penelopean activities, some of which are fast losing their humorous points in grim tragedy." thus wrote dr. e. j. dillon in his book of revelations, "from the triple to the quadruple alliance, or why italy went to war." from cover to cover it is full of solid, startling facts concerning the treachery and double-dealing of the central powers. it shows how italy was flattered, cajoled and lured on to the very edge of the precipice of ruin, disaster and disgrace; how she had been gradually hedged in, cut off from friendly relationships with other countries, and swathed and pinioned by the tentacles of economic plots and scheming which rendered her tributary to and a slave of the latter-day conquistadores; how for over thirty years she was compelled to play an ignominious and contemptible part as the cat's-paw of germany; how prince bulow, the most distinguished statesman in germany, also the most resourceful diplomatist, who by his marriage with princess camporeale, and the limitless funds at his disposal, wielded extraordinary influence with italian senators and officials as well as at the vatican, dominated italian people from the highest to the lowest; how, in fact, the kaiser's was the hand that for years guided italy's destiny. the book is a veritable mine of information of amazing interest at the present time, given in minutest detail, authenticated by facts, date, proof, and argument. but it is extraordinary that in this volume of nearly , words, written by a man who perhaps, for deep intimate knowledge of foreign politics and the histories of secret court intrigue, has no equal living, not a word of commendation is devoted to the efforts made by our own british diplomacy or to the parts played by his britannic majesty's ministers and ambassadors. there is, however, a remote allusion on his last page but one, as follows: "the scope for a complete and permanent betterment of relations is great enough to attract and satisfy the highest diplomatic ambition." this seems to be the one and only reference. as quoted in other pages of this book, the reader will perhaps gather that dr. dillon, who has been brought much in contact with the diplomatic service and who has exceptional opportunities of seeing behind the scenes, believes in the old maxims revised; for example: _de vivis nil nisi bonum_. a brief resumé of the material parts of this book which affect the subject matter of the present one shows that on the outbreak of the european war italy's resolve to remain neutral provoked a campaign of vituperation and calumny in the turkish press, whilst italians in turkey were arrested without cause, molested by blackmailing police, hampered in their business and even robbed of their property. but prince von bulow worked hard to suppress all this and to diffuse an atmosphere of brotherhood around italians and turks in europe. in libya, however, turkish machinations were not discontinued, although they were carried on with greater secrecy. the turks still despatched officers, revolutionary proclamations, and ottoman decorations to the insurgents, and the germans sent rifles in double-bottomed beer-barrels _via_ venice. through an accident in transit on the railway one of these barrels was broken and the subterfuge and treachery became revealed. the rifles were new, and most of them bore the mark "st. etienne," being meant not only to arm the revolt against italy but also to create the belief that france was treacherously aiding and abetting the tripolitan insurgents. and to crown all, during the efforts of fraternisation, in german fashion, enver bey's brother clandestinely joined the senoussi, bringing , turkish pounds and the caliph's order "to purge the land of those italian traitors." the never-to-be-forgotten "scrap of paper," the violation of neutral belgium, the shooting and burning of civilians there, the slaying of the wounded, the torturing of the weak and helpless, at first chilled the warm blood of humane sentiment, then sent it boiling to the impressionable brain of the latin race. every new horror, every fresh crime in the scientific barbarians' destructive progress intensified the wrath and charged the emotional susceptibility of the italian nation with explosive elements. the shrieks of the countless victims of demoniac fury awakened an echo in the hearts of plain men and women, who instinctively felt that what was happening to-day to the belgians and the french might befall themselves to-morrow. the heinous treason against the human race which materialised in the destruction of the _lusitania_ completed the gradual awakening of the italian nation to a sense of those impalpable and imponderable elements of the european problem which find expression in no green book or ambassadorial dispatch. it kindled a blaze of wrath and pity and heroic enthusiasm which consumed the cobwebs of official tradition and made short work of diplomatic fiction. rome at the moment was absorbed by rumours and discussions about germany's supreme efforts to coax italy into an attitude of quiescence. but these machinations were suddenly forgotten in the fiery wrath and withering contempt which the foul misdeeds and culmination of crimes of the scientific assassins evoked, and in pity for the victims and their relatives. the effect upon public sentiment and opinion in italy, where emotions are tensely strong, and sympathy with suffering is more flexible and diffusive than it is even among the other latin races, was instantaneous. one statesman who is, or recently was, a partisan of neutrality, remarked to dr. dillon that "german kultur, as revealed during the present war, is dissociated from every sense of duty, obligation, chivalry, honour, and is become a potent poison, which the remainder of humanity must endeavour by all efficacious methods to banish from the international system. this," he went on, "is no longer war; it is organised slaughter, perpetrated by a race suffering from dog-madness. i tremble at the thought that our own civilised and chivalrous people may at any moment be confronted with this lava flood of savagery and destructiveness. now, if ever, the opportune moment has come for all civilised nations to join in protest, stiffened with a unanimous threat, against the continuance of such crimes against the human race. europe ought surely to have the line drawn at the poisoning of wells, the persecution of prisoners, and the massacre of women and children." the real cause of the transformation of italian opinion was no mere mechanical action; it was the inner promptings of the nation's soul. the tide of patriotic passion was imperceptibly rising, and the cry of completion of italian unity was voiced in unison which culminated on the day of the festivities arranged in commemoration of the immortal garibaldi. signor d'annunzio, the poet laureate of italian unity, was the popular hero who set the torch to the mine of the peoples which, when it exploded, instantly erupted parliamentary power, ministers' dictation, and the influences of the throne itself. it shattered the foul system of political intrigue built up by the false giolitti and developed the overwhelming sentiment of an articulate nation burst into bellicose action against the scientific barbarians; by which spontaneous ebullition italy took her place among the civilised and civilising nations of europe. most people who have followed events closely are convinced that turkey could, with judicious diplomacy, have been kept neutral throughout the war. it was whispered in secret service circles that a very few millions of money, lent or judiciously expended, would easily have acquired her active support on the side of the entente. one need not probe further back in history than to the autumn of to ascertain the blundering fiasco that was made in that sphere of our alleged activities. sir edwin pears, who has spent a lifetime in the turkish capital and who can hardly be designated a censorious critic, because for many years he was the correspondent of a liberal newspaper in london, published, in october, , a book entitled "forty years in constantinople." in that book he describes how the turks drifted into hostility with the entente because the british embassy was completely out of touch with them. sir louis mallet, h.b.m. ambassador, appointed in june, , had never had any experience of the country; he did not know a word of turkish, whilst he had under him three secretaries also ignorant of the language and of the people. sir edwin pears thus describes them: "mr. beaumont, the counsellor, especially during the days in august before his chief returned from a visit to england, was busy almost night and day on the shipping cases.... he also knew nothing of turkish, and had never had experience in turkey. mr. ovey, the first secretary, also had never been in turkey, and knew nothing of turkish. unfortunately, also, he was taken somewhat seriously ill. the next secretary was lord gerald wellesley, a young man who will probably be a brilliant and distinguished diplomatist twenty years hence, but who, like his colleagues, had no experience in turkey. the situation of our embassy under the circumstances was lamentable.... it was made worse than it might have been from the mischievous general rule of our foreign office which erects an almost impassable barrier between the consular and diplomatic services.... there were three men in the consular service whose help would have been invaluable." it thus seems to be implied that this help, which would have meant so much in the saving of valuable lives and the wasted millions in gold, was absolutely barred by the false dignity or inefficiency of someone at the foreign office. england's only chance of attaining any success with the wily turks apparently rested upon one man. according to sir edwin pears: "nine months before the outbreak of war we had at the british embassy a dragoman (interpreter), mr. fitzmaurice, whose general intelligence, knowledge of turkey, of its ministers and people, and especially of the turkish language, was, to say the least, equal to that of the best dragoman whom germany ever possessed. his health had run down and he had been given a holiday, but when, i think in the month of february, , sir louis mallet (the british ambassador) returned to constantinople, mr. fitzmaurice did not return with him, and was never in constantinople until after the outbreak of war with england. "it is said that he did not return because the turkish ambassador in london made a request to that effect.... i think it probable that if such a request was made it was because mr. fitzmaurice did not conceal his dislike of the policy which the young turks were pursuing. "as his ability and loyalty to his chief are beyond question, and as he possesses a quite exceptional knowledge of the turkish empire, and has proved himself a most useful public servant ... it was nothing less than a national misfortune that he did not return with sir louis mallet." baron von wangenheim, the german ambassador, possessed a superbly equipped staff. it is known that he distributed money, favours, and distinctions broadcast with a free and bountiful hand. he played upon the weaknesses and characteristics of the orientals with such diplomatic skill and cunning that he entirely won over the young turkish party to his way of thinking. and the young turkish party ruled and dictated to the whole country. the blame and responsibility for this extraordinary state of affairs has been put by our indignant press upon our foreign office at home, which sent out, organised, and controlled such a representation. the terrible defeat we suffered at the dardanelles has also been referred to as the natural aftermath to such a sowing; for proof of culpability as to this see further on. our position in turkey, says sir edwin pears, "was made worse than it might have been from the mischievous general rule of our foreign office, which erects an almost impassable barrier between the consular and diplomatic services, a barrier which i have long desired to see broken down. when, some months afterwards, i returned to england, i received a copy of the 'appendix to the fifth report of the royal commission on the civil service,' published on july th, , in which (on p. ) there is a letter written by me two years earlier in which i made two recommendations. the first was adopted, the second unfortunately was not. i claimed that the consular and diplomatic services should be so co-ordinated that a good man in the consular service in turkey might be promoted into the diplomatic service, and i instanced the case of sir william white, one of the ablest ambassadors we ever had in constantinople, who had risen from being a consular clerk to the embassy. the facts under my notice from july to the end of october, , afforded strong proof of the common sense of my recommendation. the inexperience of the ambassador and his staff heavily handicapped british diplomacy in turkey: yet there were three men who had been or were in the consular service whose help would have been invaluable. they had each proved themselves able dragomans and each had many years' experience in turkey. the only explanation that i can give of why their services were not at once made available in the absence of fitzmaurice was the absurd restriction to which i have alluded." the press has also stated that the unsatisfactory precedent exhibited by the embassy at constantinople typified the british legations at the balkan capitals. we know how badly we were disappointed, deceived, and let down in the whole of that theatre of war. the best resumé may be found in an admirable series of articles, published, february rd to th, , in the london _daily telegraph_, by that most brilliant and experienced of continental correspondents, dr. e.j. dillon. they reveal the pitiful failings, weaknesses and miscalculations of our balkan diplomatists in such glaring vividness that the reader wonders at the marvels performed by our gallant troops and navy in the face of the difficulties and obstructions they had to contend with. dr. dillon wrote: "high praise is due to the intentions of entente diplomatists, which were truly admirable. they did their best according to their lights during the campaign as they had done their best before it was undertaken. that the best was disastrous was not the result of a lack of goodwill. what they were deficient in was insight and foresight. their habit is not to study the mental and psychical caste of the peoples with whom they have to deal, but to watch and act upon the shifts of the circumstances. amateurism is the curse of the british nation. their vision of the political situation in the balkans was roseate and blurred, and their moral maxims were better fitted for use in the society of friends than in intercourse with a hard-headed people whose morality begins where self-interest ends. by these methods, which, unhappily, are still in vogue, the diplomacy of great britain, france, and russia lost the key to constantinople, and contributed unwittingly to deliver over the serbian people to the tender mercies of the bulgar and the teuton. turkey is still fighting us in europe and asia. roumania is neutral, and mistrustful, and the war is prolonged indefinitely. the facts on which our statesmen relied turned out to be fancies; their expectations proved to be illusions; and their solemn negotiations a humiliating farce devised by the coburger, who moved the representatives of the allied powers hither and thither like figures on a chess-board." mr. crawford price, the balkan war correspondent, writing in the _sunday pictorial_ of february th, , alleges that the greeks wanted to join the allies in active aggression on several occasions, but the hellens were effectively snubbed by our diplomats. although the general staff and the king were both willing at one time to intercede, they opposed unconditional participation in the dardanelle enterprise, because they believed our ill-considered plans would end in disaster. mr. price says that our diplomatists refused to consider their matured ideas based upon a lifelong study of local conditions and the adoption of which would probably have given us possession of constantinople in a month. again, after we had failed, the greek government submitted a plan on april th, , for co-operation, but we would have nothing to do with it. finally, when in may following king constantine offered to join forces with us upon no other condition than that we should guarantee the integrity of his country (surely the least he could ask!), he received a belated intimation to the effect that we could not do so, as we did not wish to discourage bulgaria. after this, it will be remembered, england offered to bribe bulgaria with the cavalla district belonging to greece. no wonder greece refused to be bribed with cyprus when bulgaria had declined to be moved by the blind and incomprehensible enthusiasm which seems to have dominated english diplomacy in the near east. or was a certain continental wag, well known in diplomatic circles, nearer the mark when he facetiously lisped, "your english government is said to be slow and sure, which is quite true, in that it is slow to act and sure to be too late"? it is a matter for consideration that the british minister at sofia was changed during the war, whilst almost his whole staff were only short-timers in bulgaria, where such a gigantic failure was proved by the subsequent actions of that misguided and unfortunate country. what small advantages were once obtained in this sphere of action seem all to have been lost through our everlasting and repeated procrastinations and unpardonable delay. had the permission of venezelos to land troops at salonica been immediately acted upon and the proffered co-operation of the hellens accepted with the cordiality it deserved, and half a million men been marched to the centre of serbia, that country would never have been conquered by the enemy, whilst bulgaria and roumania would have come in upon the side of the entente, and turkey would have been beaten at the outset; thereby saving hundreds of thousands of valuable lives, and hundreds of millions of pounds sterling. what a difference this would have made to the length of the war! our diplomacy failed. our then government showed an utter lack of possessing the art of foreseeing. the fruits of its policy, "wait and see," materialised into muddle, humiliation, slaughter, and defeat. just criticism fell from lord milner, who, speaking at canterbury on october st, , said: "if the worst of our laches and failures, like the delay in the provision of shells and the brazen-faced attempts to conceal it, or the way we piled blunder upon blunder in the dardanelles, or the phenomenal failure of our policy in the balkans--if the nation was induced to regard these as just ordinary incidents of war, then we could never expect and should not deserve to see our affairs better managed in the future. truth all round and clearness of vision were necessary to enable us to win through." a few days later mr. rudyard kipling in the _daily telegraph_ wrote: "no man likes losing his job, and when at long last the inner history of this war comes to be written we may find that the people we mistook for principals and prime agents were only average incompetents moving all hell to avoid dismissal." history repeats itself, and george borrow was not very wide of the mark when he wrote in : "why does your (english) government always send fools to represent it at vienna?"[ ] the work of all foreign ministers should consist in providing for contingencies long foreseen and patiently awaited. surely we must have some good and able men who do or can serve us abroad? or does the fault lie with the foreign office at home? the _english review_ of february, , contained a serious article entitled "the failure of sir edward grey," the logic of which causes one to reflect. its author, mr. seton-watson, argues as follows: "from the moment that the mismanagement of the dardanelles expedition became apparent to the bulgarians (and it must be remembered that the whole balkan peninsula was ringing with the details at a time when the british public was still allowed to know nothing) only one thing could have prevented them from joining the central powers, and that was the prompt display of military force, as a practical proof that we should not allow our ally to be crushed.... prince george of greece was sent to paris by his brother, the king, with a virtual offer of intervention in return for the entente powers guaranteeing the integrity of greek territory. the french were inclined to consider the offer, but it was rejected by london on the ground that no attention could be paid to 'unauthorised amateur diplomacy.' "this astonishing phrase was allowed to reach the king of greece, and having been applied to his own brother on a mission which was anything but unauthorised, naturally gave the greatest possible offence. "as a matter of fact, the treaty was much more comprehensive than is generally supposed. under its provisions the _casus foederis_ arises not merely in the event of a bulgarian attack on serbia, but also of an attack from any other quarter also; and therefore greece, in not coming to serbia's aid against austria-hungary in , had already broken her pledge. hence sir edward grey, who must have been well aware of this fact, was surely running a very grave risk when he relied upon greek constancy in a situation which his own diplomatic failures had rendered infinitely less favourable. on september rd bulgaria mobilised against serbia; yet on september th sir edward grey practically vetoed serbia's proposal to take advantage of her own military preparedness and to attack bulgaria before she could be ready. next day (september th) in the house of commons he uttered his famous pledge that, in the event of bulgarian aggression, 'we are prepared to give to our friends in the balkans all the support in our power, in the manner that would be most welcome to them, in concert with our allies without reserve and without qualification.' at the moment everyone in england, and above all in serbia, took this to mean that we were going to send serbia the military help for which she was clamouring; but on november rd sir edward grey explained to an astonished world that he merely meant to convey that after bulgaria had joined germany 'there would be no more talk of concessions from greece or serbia.' the _naïveté_ which could prompt such an explanation is only equalled by the confusion of mind which could read this interpretation into a phrase so explicit and unequivocal. greece's failure in her treaty obligations towards serbia alone saved britain from the charge of failure to fulfil her pledge to greece. nothing can exonerate greece's desertion of her ally, but in view of our tergiversation and irresolution, some allowance must be made for king constantine's attitude towards the entente. sir edward grey, throwing to the winds all his public pledges to serbia, definitely urged upon the french generalissimo complete withdrawal from salonica and the abandonment of the serbs to their fate. general joffre replied with the historic phrase: 'you are deserting us on the field of battle and we shall have to tell the world.' general joffre carried his point, and in the biting phrase of sir edward carson, 'the government decided that what was too late three weeks before was in time three weeks after.' but those three weeks, which might have transformed the fortune of the campaign, had been irretrievably lost through sir edward grey's lack of a balkan policy. even then our hesitation continued. in paris the question is being asked on all sides why sir edward grey, after such repeated fiascoes, did not follow his late colleague, m. delcasse, into retirement, and what everyone is saying in paris, from the quai d'orsay to the academie française, surely need no longer be concealed from london. the german chancellor was unwise enough to hint this in his speech, when he ascribed germany's balkan success in large measure to our mistakes. the fall of sir edward grey, as the result of a demand for a more energetic conduct of the war and for still closer co-operation with our allies, and the substitution of a man of energy and first-rate ability, would be far the most serious and disconcerting blow which the germans had yet received." the halting, hesitating, vacillating "wait-and-see" policy which seems to be revealed in such startling vividness by mr. seton-watson causes a deep thinker to ponder further. is it not possible that sir edward grey, like the late lord kitchener, may not have been his own master? that he in turn may have been held down and dictated to by the one man whose own valuation of his personal services so greatly exceeded the worth put upon them by the nation at large? it is easy to state in the house of commons, "i accept entire responsibility," as mr. asquith did when the gallipoli disaster was questioned, but he surely ought then to have been the questioner! _his statement_, which the members of the house were bound down by national loyalty not to attack as they would have liked to have done, _proved_ that the prime minister had been _meddling with military matters_ which should have been left absolutely and entirely to military experts. hence it was that the nation learnt that the halting, hesitating, vacillating "wait-and-see" policy had paralysed not only the whole gallipoli campaign, but particularly the suvla bay expedition, which if properly exploited would undoubtedly have given our arms one of the greatest victories of the war.[ ] footnotes: [ ] as evidence in support of this, see the papers seized from von papen at falmouth, december, ; the papers seized at salonika, january, ; the reports from washington, u.s.a., - ; and the numerous paragraphs in the press to date since november, . [ ] cotton was not made absolute contraband until days after the war had broken out, august th, . sir edward grey, speaking in the house of commons on january th, , said: "his majesty's government have never put cotton on the list of contraband; they have throughout the war kept it on the free list; and on every occasion when questioned on the point they have stated their intention of adhering to this practice." [ ] "romany rye," chapter . [ ] it has been said by those who were there that the english troops were kept back and permitted to play about on the beach bathing and building camp, etc., for three days after the first landing, thus giving the turks more than sufficient time to bring up opposing forces and successfully dig themselves in where required, whereas it was but nine miles across the peninsula, which could presumably have been straddled in a few hours with little, if any, opposition at the time of landing. was this the suppressed episode "within a few hours of the greatest victory of the war," which the right hon. winston churchill referred to in his memorable speech, and which has been the subject of so much surmise and comment? chapter xx the sham blockade secret service protest against the open door to germany--activity of our naval arm nullified--lord northcliffe's patriotism--blockade bunkum--position of denmark--huge consignments for germany--the declaration fiasco--british ministers' gullibility in copenhagen--german bank guaranteeing the british against goods going to germany--british navy paralysed by diplomatic and political folly--statistics extraordinary--flouting the declaration of london--sir edward grey's dilatoriness and puerile apologia--lord haldane pushed out--lord fisher's efficiency unrecognised--lord devonport's amazing figures on german imports--further startling statistics--british the greatest muddlers on earth--noble service by australian premier, w. h. hughes--hollow sham of the danish agreement and the netherlands overseas trust--blockade minister, lord robert cecil, and his feeble futile efforts--more statistics--the triumvirate--asquith the unready, sir edward grey the irresolute, and lord haldane the friend of the kaiser--david lloyd george, the saviour of the situation--how he proved himself a man--a neglected opportunity. during the first year of the war secret service agents busied themselves much concerning the vast stream of goods, necessities and munitions in the raw state which poured into germany direct and through neutral countries like the waters of a rising flood over weirs on the thames. night and day these ever-restless beings flitted as shadows along the secretly or openly favoured trade routes. persistently and energetically they followed up clues and signs of the trails of enemy traders, from ports of entry to original sources. week by week, almost day by day, they flashed home news of then present and future consignments of such importance and value to the enemy that he paid exorbitant prices and ridiculous commissions to help rush them over his frontiers. seemingly all was in vain. these efforts were but wasted. the work was apparently unappreciated and unresponsively received. england, to all intents and purposes, was slumbering too soundly to be awakened. meanwhile, during every hour of the twenty-four, unending processions of trade ships of every shape, make and rig sneaked along the coasts of neutral waters, as near to land as safety permitted, on their way to the receiving ports of germany. observers, stationed in lighthouses or on promontories, who watched this abnormal freighting activity, could not but help noticing that, whenever smoke showed itself upon the horizon seawards, consternation at once became manifest on the decks of these cargo carriers. they would squeeze dangerously inshore, lay to, or drop anchors, bank up their fires and damp down every curl of smoke which it was possible to suppress; in short, they adopted every conceivable ruse to conceal their presence and identity. if this trade was honest and legitimate, why should these tactics be followed, and these precautions taken? _res ipsa loquitur._ as the year progressed and the inertia of the british government became more and more realised abroad, the captains of freighters grew bolder and bolder, and the confidence of the thousands upon thousands of get-rich-quick-anyhow dealers ashore increased and multiplied accordingly. no one, except the germans themselves, knew or could get to know the actual extent of this enormous volume of their import trade. the chattels came from so many different countries and were consigned through so many channels that accurate records were rendered impossible; whilst the greater part was shipped in direct. the english press, which had been so self-denying and loyal to the government in spite of the shameful manner in which it had been gagged and bound down, until the censor's blue-pencilling amounted almost to an entire suppression of news, began to grumble and to hint very broadly that the bombastic utterances of our ministers regarding the effectiveness of our blockade and the starvation of the central powers were exaggerations and not facts. men who had always put their country before any other consideration began to proclaim that the so-called blockade was a delusion; whilst they quoted figures of imports to neutral countries which were embarrassing to the government. something therefore had to be done. the notorious danish agreement[ ] was accordingly framed in secret (in secret only from the british public), and a very highly-coloured and altogether misleading interpretation of its limitations and effectiveness was hinted at in parliament. in spite of terrific pressure upon ministers by members of both houses, not a clause of this extraordinary document was permitted to be published, although its context was freely circulated or commented upon in the press of neutral countries and the whole agreement was printed _in extenso_ on december th, , in the _borsen_, at copenhagen. what a sham and a farce this whole arrangement turned out to be will be seen later. it has ever been the proud boast of englishmen that britannia rules the waves. until this war the british navy had been supreme mistress of the seas, and no loyal person within the empire whereon the sun never sets has grudged a penny of the very heavy taxation which has been necessary to keep up the efficiency of our fleet. from the commencement of the war, however, our fleet was tied up body and soul, shackled in the intricacies of red tape entanglements woven round its keels, guns, and propellers by lawyer politicians who never could leave the management of naval affairs to the navy, any more than they could leave the management of military affairs to the army. in theory these pedantic illusionists may be superb, whilst some of them even stated ( - ) that if they were removed from office during the continuance of the war it would be a calamity. but in practice the british public has seen proved too vividly--and at what a cost!--only an incessant stream of terrible disasters and mishaps; "milestones" in their policy of makeshift, dawdle and defeat. the first chapter in this book shows that our party system government was probably directly responsible for the war itself, or at least for our being precipitated unprepared into it. without a shadow of a doubt it is solely accountable for the wild and riotously extravagant waste, for our colossal supererogation, and for our excessive losses. what would have happened to the mother country and to her extensive colonial possessions had not lord northcliffe, through the powerful newspapers he controls, stepped in from time to time and torn off the scales which had been plastered and bandaged upon the eyes of an all-too-confiding british public, and just in the nick of time to save disaster upon disaster too awful to contemplate? it is not necessary to enumerate the many and vital matters which lord northcliffe helped an indignant and a deluded public to consider and discuss, whereby the government was roused from its torpor and pushed into reluctant activity, but the greatest of all canards which it had attempted to foist upon europe does very much concern the subject-matter of this volume, hence it must be separately dealt with. it is this so-called blockade, which amongst teuton traders in northern neutral countries was looked upon as the best of all "war jokes"! it seems to be universally believed that had the british fleet been given a free hand and its direction left to the discretion of a good, business-like, fighting sea lord, the war would have been over within eighteen months from the first declaration. as it has happened, the freedom of action of our fleet has been so hampered that our enemies have actually been permitted to draw certain food supplies not only from our own colonies, but from the united kingdom itself. how can it be argued that this suicidal policy has not helped to drag out the war and add to its terrible and unnecessary wastage of life and wealth, with the aftermath of woe and misery consequent thereon? for our ministers to affirm that germany has been starved by our blockade is as untrue as it is ridiculous. the bunkum which has filled the thousands upon thousands of press columns in different countries on this subject has been mere chimerical effort, in great part subsidised from indirect pro-german sources of more or less remote origin in accordance with the value of the publication used. now for a dissection of the facts concerning the main subject. passing over innumerable paragraphs in the press which hinted at much more than they disclosed, attention should be given to an article which appeared in the january ( ) number of the _national review_ (pp. - ), in which a naval correspondent gives record of a startling amount of supplies of cotton, copper, oils, foodstuffs and other commodities that were permitted to pass into germany by permission of our benevolent government. the _edinburgh review_ of the same month also contains an article worthy of perusal upon the same subject. many other periodicals directly and indirectly touched upon it, but for proof positive and authentic evidence the reader is referred to the files of the _daily mail_. that paper, in its persistent and praiseworthy patriotism, by pushing forward everything it honestly believed to be for the empire's good, or which it hoped might help shorten the war, determined to get to the bottom of the matter. in order to ascertain how far this alleged supplying of germany was permitted it arranged for one of its special commissioners to visit scandinavia for the express purpose of collecting evidence on the spot and for publication in its columns. the author has taken the liberty of extracting freely therefrom. on january th, , the special series of articles commenced as follows: "in setting out the facts i will try hard to keep from my presentation of them any distortion due to the disgust and burning anger that they evoked in me, as they must do in every patriot of this empire. "lest even for a moment a wrong and cruel suspicion rest upon little denmark--namely, that she is unfriendly towards the allies and has been 'two-faced' in the many tokens of friendliness and respect she has shown us, i say with conviction that there is not a truer or deeper love for england and the english than exists to-day in denmark. these danes, forefathers of so many of our race, warm still to britain and the british. their hearts glow to our successes, yearn to our reverses. deep down they are for us through and through. the best danes revolt at the work denmark is now forced to do. a big and greedy german fist hangs over her--threatening, bullying, driving. 'so far as in you lies,' says the bully behind that fist, 'you must be useful to us--as useful at least as you are to our enemy'--(aside, 'even more useful if we can make you so')--'and should you fail by one iota to yield us such surplus food commodities as you produce and such food commodities as you can get'--(aside, 'by hook or by crook')--'from abroad, then the consequences for you will be serious. we shall seize denmark.'" here follow several columns of statistics relating to the importation of foodstuffs to denmark, showing increases in some instances of upwards of , per cent. upon her normal supplies. denmark's total population is under , , , and to argue that she would, or even could, use these commodities herself is mere foolishness. extracting further: "the vast bulk of denmark's pork goes to germany--either directly, by train or ship, or _via_ sweden, where obliging workmen, dignified _pro tem_. with the title 'merchant consignee' (but whose whole stock-in-trade consists perhaps of a hammer, some nails and a batch of labels), change the labels on the goods and perhaps turn upside down the marked ends of the packing-cases, and then re-consign the goods to germany. "and they may even leave sweden in the very railway trucks and cases in which they have arrived and travel to germany back through denmark in sealed trucks over which the danish customs have no control. or there may be no need to trouble to send them to sweden. they may leave copenhagen docks direct for lübeck, warnemunde, stettin, or hamburg, in direct steamers, of which some sailed during the year. or they may go by train. huge trains leave every day. the trains and ferries and boats connecting denmark and germany are so full that there is competition for room. how often may one see the danish shippers, in advertising their sailings for german ports, add the significant words, 'cargo space already full' days before the actual date of sailing! "now more swedish traffic than ever crosses the water from malmö or helsingborg and makes its way to germany across denmark by rail. i have stood about the railways at many points in the two countries and watched truck after truck go by--all to cross the german frontier below kolding, in jutland. the great wagons were closed and a little seal gleamed red on their black doors. i have stood, too, on the quays at these ports and watched the dock cranes lifting and lowering sack after sack, box after box, and barrel after barrel, from the quays to german-bound steamers, to german words of command, and on the main or mizzen-mast of the steamer would be as often as not the gloomy little german flag, black and white and red, still blacker and gloomier with the smoke drifting from the funnel before it. "on the quays at copenhagen i watched the steamers _hugo stinnes_, of hamburg, _esberg_, _snare_, _haeland_, _hever_, and others, of sweden, loading wine from spain and portugal; oil, lard, coffee and petroleum from america; meat from denmark, and many other goods, _all for german ports_. i travelled to malmö, in sweden, with a cargo of oils and fats and iron and boxes with no marks on them, and at malmö saw these things put ready on the quay to await the next german steamer. at the same port i saw pork in boxes, meatstuffs in boxes and barrels labelled 'armour and co.,' oils and fats bearing the names swift or morris or harrison or salzberger, and some of them adding the information that the contents were 'guaranteed to contain per cent. of pure neat's-foot oil'; also petroleum of 'best standard white' and other brands; pork 'fat backs,' and many other things besides, _all labelled 'lübeck'_ and going into lighters for transport thither. fussing tugs, with a litter of -ton lighters behind, may be seen travelling these waters all hours of the day bound for germany, and no one can say what mysterious cargoes slip from country to country at night. the glut of traffic at these link-points is tremendous. _at some ports there is such a glut of stuff that danish traders complain that they cannot get their own danish produce over to germany 'because of the amount of foreign stuff' there is to be ferried over._ a pretty position, indeed! "and it is we in great britain who are allowing all this 'foreign stuff' to reach these countries. it is british licences and permits and recommendations which make possible this pouring of the world's goods into germany. little wonder the danish merchants and other onlookers less friendly to us look with wonder upon us. 'my word, but you are truly a christian people,' they say. 'you love your enemies all right--well enough to feed them. and if you, england, will allow the stuff over, it is not for us, little denmark, to stand in germany's way.' "but how is all this possible, you may ask, this feeding of germany through neutral scandinavian countries? are there not strict undertakings and promises and guarantees given to england against these goods, supplied from outside, ever reaching our enemy, germany? "our navy does its part. ships are hauled into ---- and searched. guarantees are exacted and forthcoming. and the whole performance, admirably and bravely done, is so much waste of effort. _for the guarantees are not worth the ink they are written with_; they are not worth a single tinker's expletive. to show this will be a little intricate, perhaps, but it is worth trouble to follow. "goods leave great britain and america, spain and other countries for danish ports. the shipper, now wary of the british fleet, which has done wonderful police duty on the high seas, generally exacts a declaration that the goods are not for export to an enemy country. the declaration is signed right willingly, for the consignor can quite easily believe, or pretend to believe, that his goods are merely for denmark. a british warship overhauls the boat, and perhaps takes her into ---- (a certain british port) for examination. "the declaration with each consignment is in order. but, not satisfied (the navy all through have been suspicious, and rightly), the officer communicates with london. 'the s.s. _so-and-so_ has big consignments of foodstuffs for copenhagen under the names so-and-so. can we release them?' london communicates with our legation at copenhagen, in whose hands they are in this matter. 'can we let through consignments to so-and-so in your capital?' and our copenhagen legation replies with a list of the danish people whose consignments must be let through and a list of those (if any) whose goods must be stopped or forwarded only on declaration that the goods must not leave copenhagen harbour or copenhagen city. it all looks admirable--most businesslike; quite systematic and thorough. _it is so much nonsense. for in point of fact the ideas of our legation at copenhagen on the good faith of some danish traders and the bad faith of others are childish beyond words. their rulings are the laughing-stock of denmark._ and the joke would be all the more appreciable were it not that there is so much anger caused by the arbitrariness of the legation's trade rulings and the baiting of some honest men, while less honest go free and trade with impunity. struck by the frequency with which one or two names appeared in the copenhagen importers' lists, i made some calculations, then some personal inquiries. i found that 'x' alone had imported during the year , , lbs. pork, , , lbs. lard, , , lbs. oleo, , , lbs. other pork and meat. 'y,' another man, imported in september, october and november alone, , , lbs. of cocoa. neither of these men was engaged in these trades before the war. they were men of quite humble business attainments. _yet both enjoyed the full confidence of our trusting british legation at copenhagen_, who would have taken solemn affidavits, no doubt, that neither of these men traded with germany. i would have done the same myself. but these men traded with others who did trade with germany, either directly or through third and fourth and maybe fifth parties. "what is the result? you have in copenhagen that amazing modern war phenomenon the trader of the _n_th degree. plain trader imports his goods and basks and grows fat under the ægis of the british legation in copenhagen. trader buys from plain trader under a 'guarantee' not to sell to germany, and if he does not dare to break that guarantee himself he sells to trader or trader or trader , one of whom will undoubtedly do it. and the less money that trader has the better, because then, even if he is caught, which is not likely, for nobody worries, no one can squeeze him for the amount of the guarantee because he has not got it. "the result is that every tom, dick and harry of copenhagen is a trader--from the _bona fide_ merchant downwards. your hotel porter may be trading with a hungarian for flour or rice or fat; the "boots" can get you a ton or two of meal. imagine the amazement of the danish housewife when her maid came in one day and, with hands clasped in enthusiasm, said, 'oh, madam, i've got three wagon-loads of marmalade to sell'! and that happened in copenhagen not long ago. "the newspapers are daily blackened with great display advertisements offering goods for sale. i have before me as i write a whole sheaf of such advertisements, offering anything, from american lard to potash and oil and cocoa and coffee. and not one of these advertisements has a name or an address to it; nothing but a telephone number. one or two of these i tracked down, only to find as vendors simple, kindly souls, such as old shopwomen, caretakers, porters, shop-girls, and the rest waiting for an offer for their goods. _per contra_, as the book-keepers say, there are advertisements from those wanting goods, and these are often more outspoken. "some of these nameless advertisements treat of great quantities. 'ten thousand kilos fat, with permit to export; , kilos salted half-pigs; , kilos salt meat'; and much more says one advertisement alone. and the good soul answering to your inquiry may prove a simple little typewriting girl--one of copenhagen's new traders to the _n_th degree. "the machinery that has been established by great britain in denmark for preventing imported foodstuffs from reaching our enemy might be very admirable--if only it worked. "there has been little or no enforcement of the trading laws imposed upon danish traders by great britain. we have supplied them with goods and have allowed them to help themselves to goods from all the ends of the earth upon set conditions--namely, that those goods should not go to germany, our enemy. they go to germany, nevertheless, and _they go because we have no one in denmark who sees to it that they shall not go_. great britain, in short, lacks a watchful policeman in denmark. great britain also lacks a live sergeant at home to see to it that her denmark policeman does not sleep on his beat. _the british foreign office_ is the sergeant i mean; _the british legation at copenhagen_, or its commercial department, is the policeman. _theirs is the duty. and both have failed us._ "take the written declarations made by traders that goods supplied to them by or through us shall not go to germany. without control and enforcement they are perfectly useless. i myself found traders who told me point-blank that they would consider such agreements as this not morally binding upon them. 'your navy seizes our ships,' said one, 'and your foreign office releases them only on condition that the goods they contain shall be subject to your own conditions. i sign those conditions, but they are exacted from me by force, and i don't consider them as worth a snap of the fingers. if you put a pistol to my head and said, "sign that cheque," i'd sign it, but i'd telephone to the bank the minute you'd gone and stop payment. and i'll do the same thing with your british import agreements.' these agreements are perhaps 'backed' by a money penalty. the banks undertake this guarantee part of the business. for a modest per cent. or so they will put up your money guarantee against your goods ever reaching germany and contravening the agreement clause. and when the goods go on to sweden the swedish banks relieve the danish banks of their obligations. and when the goods go on from sweden to germany, who relieves the swedish banks? i have it on the word of a man i believe to be thoroughly honest and well informed that the north german bank of hamburg alone has taken over from swedish banks of late in one transaction as much as £ , worth of guarantees--that the goods will not reach germany! _was ever there such a comedy? a german bank guaranteeing that much-needed goods will not reach germany!_ "the germans are not 'let down' by their diplomacy in copenhagen. a constant weight is poised carefully and with a silken brutality over little denmark's head and von ranzau smiles and assures denmark he is really preserving her from his powerful master. and he gets his way, of course. the little matter of a permit for export? well, perhaps it can be managed for you, baron--_especially as the british watchman is asleep just now_! "so the great game goes on. if denmark has goods that cannot obtain a permit for direct export to germany they can go _via_ sweden. _vice versa_, if sweden has goods about which our active british legation there is too curious, send them to denmark and re-export them. that is simple. and i have seen for myself at denmark's port of copenhagen swedish goods (casks of american oil) which had been refused permits for shipment direct from sweden to germany, being loaded into the steamer _heinrich hugo stinnes_, of hamburg, for shipment to hamburg. also, on the quay at malmö (sweden) i have seen goods for which denmark had refused a direct export permit being loaded into nameless lighters for shipment to german lübeck. "thus agreements, promises, guarantees, and prohibitions--_the whole commercial code that great britain has devised for regulating imports into denmark and for checking their re-export to germany_ (and, incidentally, for displaying to us at home) _are so much meaningless pantomime_. they have become so simply because the honester traders of denmark, and the dishonest parasites of all nations who work under them and through them, have found that there is no supervision, no punishment, no judge to answer. _our watchmen, both in london and in copenhagen, have slept._" on january th, , lord sydenham in the house of lords raised the question of "feeding the germans," and in his speech stated that in cocoa alone our exports for august-july, - , were , tons as against , tons for - . for the sixteen months preceding the war our exports were , tons, as against , tons during the first sixteen months of the war. lord lansdowne, following, admitted that "_there was an enormous balance unaccounted for which it was reasonable to suppose found its way to enemy countries_." the following are the exports of cocoa to the countries named in the years , , and up to december th, : cocoa exports in lbs. to . . . (to dec. .) holland , , , , , , denmark , , , , , scandinavia , , , , , a leading article in the _daily mail_ of january th, , stated: "the strength of the greatest navy in the world is being paralysed by administrative feebleness and diplomatic weakness. had our sea power been used, as the sailors would have used it, from the opening of the war, it is possible that germany would before now have collapsed. the mightiest weapon in our arsenal has been blunted because our politicians imagined they could wage what napoleon called 'rosewater war,' and were more eager to please everybody than to hurt the enemy, and because our diplomatists are remiss. "on december th the _neue freie presse_,[ ] a leading austrian newspaper, published for the benefit of the people of vienna an advertisement offering provisions from holland. a list of the articles which could be supplied at moderate prices followed. it included cocoa, chocolate, potatoes, flour, sausages, sides of bacon, butter, coffee, tea, sardines, oranges, lemons and figs. "_and yet mr. runciman tells us that the germans are on the verge of starvation!_ "the cure for this state of affairs is to infuse greater energy and insight into our diplomacy and to free the navy from its paper fetters. much of the mischief is due to the want of capable advisers at the british legations in the neutral capitals and of energy and vigilance on the part of the foreign office at home. the germans have been quick to realise the importance of stationing active agents at the vital posts. "_the present system of setting diplomatists who have lived all their life in a world of formality to deal with the sharpest business men in europe in a matter where huge profits are at stake is an immense blunder which may have the most serious consequences._ "our very gentleness with denmark is being quoted in that country to prove that we are not likely to win the war. this is undoubted and dangerous fact." on january th, , the special commissioner in a further article, headed, "the sham blockade: british tyres on german cars," explained in detail the tricks used by unscrupulous foreigners and others to acquire stocks of rubber motor-tyres for german use. he complained, with reason, that the broken promises, broken guarantees, and reckless manner in which permits to trade were granted seemed to be almost entirely the fault of the british foreign office representatives at the british legation. he concludes with the following paragraph: "is this soft-heartedness towards commercial shortcomings and laxity characteristic of our british control in copenhagen? on the evidence that i have i honestly believe it to be so. but is this attitude solely the individual attitude of britain's representatives in copenhagen or is it merely a reflex of the foreign office attitude at home? "i think the true answer is that the copenhagen legation attitude is a reflex of our foreign office attitude. but _if london is mild, copenhagen is puny_; if london is a lamb, copenhagen is a sucking dove." on january th, , the following paragraph appeared in the _globe_: "we cannot disregard the startling and amazing figures collected in denmark by the special commissioner sent out by the _daily mail_. "of course, all these commodities are consigned to danish purchasers, under guarantees that they are not intended for the enemy. what purposes these guarantees serve except to hold harmless the vessels in which the articles are conveyed we are at a loss to understand. "no sane person will believe that the danish people have suddenly developed such a passion for pork that they must increase their consumption by , per cent., or that every man, woman and child in denmark requires the daily bath in cocoa with which the , tons they now import would appear to be intended to provide them. _the only possible inference from these figures is that we are being deluded, and are feeding germany_ in our own despite." the _pall mall gazette_ of january th, , said: "revelations like these can only be described as heart-breaking to the men and women who have given their sons and brothers and husbands to the end that germany may be brought to her knees. now they find that some malign spell has paralysed the navy's arm so that, instead of germany's foreign supplies being cut off, they are in some vital respects more abundant than ever." the _quarterly review_, january, , contains a powerful article on "the danish agreement." it suggests how _some blight has been at work in our foreign office for years steadily undermining our mastery of the sea_. one paragraph bears particularly on the present point: "no informed man doubts that the winter of - must weaken to a marked degree, through lack of food, germany's armed resistance, always assuming that she is not supplied through neutral countries. the existence of england depends on her victory over germany. her victory over germany depends on the cutting off of neutral supplies. therefore the existence of england depends on the cutting off of neutral supplies. but _when_, in august, , _the cabinet and, above all, the foreign office, were confronted by this great possibility of stratagem every psychological force was set in motion against its adoption_." a telegram from washington, u.s.a., on january th, , to the _morning post_, set out the exports permitted to be poured into neutral countries in spite of all the efforts and protests of our navy by our all-too-benevolent foreign office, and in face of mr. asquith's pledges to the house of commons in march and in november, , when he emphasised to loud cheering that _he would stick at nothing to prevent commodities of any kind reaching or leaving germany. that there was no form of economic pressure to which he did not consider we were entitled to win the war_. exports to neutral countries . . to bushels. bushels. wheat holland, norway, sweden, denmark , , , , maize denmark , , , , holland , , , , other neutrals , , , , ---------- ---------- , , , , ========== ========== barrels. barrels. wheat holland , , , flour other neutrals , , , , , , , lbs. lbs. bacon holland , , , , other neutrals , , , , ---------- ---------- , , , , ========== ========== boots neutrals , pairs , , pairs cotton neutrals , bales , , bales motor-} cars &} neutrals £ , £ , , parts } the new york _journal of commerce_, quoting statistics of the u.s.a. export trade for the first ten months of under a headline, "increase to neutral europe equals german loss," shows that "whilst shipments to germany fell away £ , , for the period named, the gain to the neutral nations on the north of germany was £ , , ." what could give more confirmatory proof? on january th, , the _morning post_ received a further cablegram from washington, u.s.a., containing the elucidating facts that in the ten months from january st to october st, , germany imported from the u.s.a. , , lbs. of cotton-seed oil, the netherlands , , lbs., and norway , , lbs. in the corresponding ten months of the figures were: germany, nil; the netherlands, , , lbs.; and norway , , lbs. other statistics follow, such as cotton-seed, meal and cake, etc., proving beyond all shadow of doubt that neutral countries were importing far more goods and foodstuffs, etc, than their usual average imports plus the total previous imports of germany in addition. a careful analysis of the leading american exports showed, almost without an exception, the striking fact that the prices of peace exports were very much lower in than in ; whilst the prices of war exports all showed large and heavy advances. deducing from these figures, leader-writers came to the obvious conclusion that _germany was enjoying unrestricted imports for which great britain directly or indirectly paid_. returns from other parts of the world merely corroborated, adding proof upon proof. by way of example the brazilian official trade returns during the first nine months of , compared with , show the following exports to the countries named: . . £ £ sweden , , , norway , , denmark , , in addition to the export figures given and those quoted from the u.s.a. should be added the enormous quantities of corn, etc, re-exported from liverpool and other british ports under special license issued by our government. it is therefore reasonably arguable that _our government has used our fleet to convoy our merchantmen in freighting foodstuffs, at our expense, to feed the germans_. by this incomprehensible tolerance home prices of food in the united kingdom were directly raised to a high figure and neutral countries were directly helped to pile up fortunes by _bleeding and pinching our own peoples in order to feed their enemies_. on january st, , in the house of commons major rowland hunt asked the foreign secretary "whether the foreign office had been aware of the state of things demonstrated by the american trade statistics and if so could he say how much longer our navy was to be crippled by the foreign office, the war prolonged, and many more thousands of our men sacrificed?" sir e. grey: "i understand that the subject is to be discussed next week. i must, however, say that the statements in the question are grossly unfair and entirely misrepresent the facts of the case. i reserve any further statement i have to make until next week." from december th to th, , just on , tons of iron ore were openly _consigned to germany_ through rotterdam and holland; as to which see further on. here is a sample report of the sales one day at esbjerg (denmark) cattle market, december, : "cattle sold to-day numbered , head, of which street, of hamburg, bought ; dar neilsen, of kiel, ; franck of berlin, ; an austrian buyer, ." this leaves for danish buyers. no wonder best beef was then half a crown a pound in denmark! incidentally great quantities of the fodder with which these cattle for germany are fed come from british ports and possessions. our government was fully, persistently, and impressively advised by the secret service agents of this continual and enormous export of cattle and beef direct to germany in january and february, . yet it apparently did not lift a finger to attempt to stop or divert it throughout the year following, or at any time. sweden, which normally imports , lbs. of meat in november and exports , , lbs., imported during november, , , , lbs. holland, which usually imports in november , , lbs. of meat and exports , , lbs., imported in november, , no less than , , lbs. in the light of these figures it seems idle to say that our blockade was tightened or in any degree effectual. in the house of commons on january th, , mr. booth put the following question to lord robert cecil in reference to these exports. mr. booth: "is the noble lord aware that the germans in new york toasted the health of the foreign office at christmas time?" no answer was returned. on january th, , sir edward grey delivered his promised reply in the house of commons. it was brilliant oratory, but it was not argument. it was a defence of the navy, which needed no defence. it was a masterpiece of forensic jurisprudence, but it revealed between the chinks of polished sentences and high-sounding declamation, in startling nakedness, the weaknesses, the unwarrantable hesitating caution, or the downright cowardice of the cabinet. with such grace and skill did the speaker unfold his case that a reader, unaware of the facts concealed behind it, would believe the policy and actions of the government had been hitherto faultless, flawless, and blameless. reading it at a later date brought to my mind the story of a poacher's wife, who with tears of grateful joy streaming down her countenance, thanked a learned junior counsel for his able and successful defence of her husband, who had been charged with stealing a certain shot-gun. "my good woman," replied her modest advocate, "it was only a mistake. the judge truly said that your good husband left the court without a stain upon his character. it was only _alleged_ that he stole the gun." "alleged be bothered," said the woman; "why, we've got the gun at home now!" if this speech of sir edward grey, as a speech, had a fault at all, it was that the defence he made was too good to ring true. at the time of its utterance it appeared to appease the house. no one wished to hamper the government, which, like the energetic but painfully inefficient pianist at a certain western mining camp, was protected by proclamation: "please don't shoot. he's doing his best." but outside the house the underlying effect of the speech upon thinking people was very different. it created satisfaction in germany and amongst neutral governments. it caused great jubilation amongst the vast army of mushroom traders and adventurers abroad who were piling up fortunes by illicit trading. but it left englishmen and our true sympathisers in this tragic war irritable, indignant, and unsatisfied; smouldering in their just wrath at the confessed weak-kneed policy of politicians, who, however good their intentions, proved that they had not yet grasped the difference between a quarrel at law and a quarrel at war. it left the nation disappointed. the people felt we had been fooling with the war too long; that the time had arrived for some strong and decisive action. that politics and patronage should be shelved and the navy given a free hand. it remembered how the government had hesitated, procrastinated, and vacillated in this so-called blockade, as in other matters. it remembered that parliament had refused to pass a code of international rules called the declaration of london because that code, made largely to please germany, weakened the hands of the navy. it remembered that _the government had gone behind the back of parliament and illegally put that very code into operation after war began_. it had not forgotten that this proved such a scandalous weakening of our right and our strength that soon after the coalition government came into being that code was said to have been scrapped. even as to this doubts arose for long afterwards.[ ] it had not forgotten the seventeen long months of public pressure and the trouble there had been to force cotton as contraband; nor the seventeen months of "wait and see" before the navy was permitted to examine mails and extract (_inter alia_) parcels of rubber. it had not forgotten sir edward grey's declaration that "he had no intention of making cotton contraband"; nor lord haldane's contention that "it was useless stopping the import of cotton to germany, because if we did germany could find a substitute for it." the nation had been deceived and lulled to sleep before by soft words and gentle assurances. it had been told, "we decline to be bound by judicial niceties." it had been promised "to prevent commodities of any kind from entering or leaving the enemy's country"; "to stick at nothing." it remembered with some misgiving how these promises had been kept.[ ] what, it reasoned, were the disappointments of a few dutch and scandinavian adventurers from making fortunes out of a war which to ourselves was a tragedy? the country had unbounded confidence in the navy. it had not unbounded confidence in either the government or the foreign office. it hungered with an overwhelming desire to know why the navy should not be given a free and unhampered hand. the speaker skilfully evaded too much information on that point, and the nation was compelled to nurse its resentment. at the outset of his speech, sir edward grey attempted to deal with the mass of statistics and evidence of direct importation of goods into germany accumulated by the press. he selected wheat and flour only, whilst he casually referred to a list of figures issued by the press bureau from the war trade department of the government the day before the debate, which members in the house rightly complained had not been supplied to themselves. this list was stated to have been compiled officially in this country from true copies of the ships' manifests, and it alleged the figures given by the danish _borsen_ were in many cases wrong and unduly inflated. for instance, the increase in rice imports should have been only per cent. as against per cent.; lard, per cent. instead of per cent.; pork only , per cent. instead of , per cent.; and so on. now everyone knows that statistics are not infallible and a generous allowance should always be made by a careful calculator. but when all circumstances are taken into consideration it can safely be concluded that the majority of the increases alleged by the various press writers, as having percolated into germany, were, if anything, under rather than over the mark. as to the reliability of the _borsen_, it is edited by a government statistician, and considered by danish traders as official. so far as norway is concerned, h.b.m. minister at christiania had difficulty in obtaining official statistics regarding imports and exports after the casement affair remained unanswered; certain it is that government assistance was denied to various consuls acting under him; whilst i, when in that country, was informed (by british authorities) i must not collect these figures, although to me and others working with me they were comparatively easy of access. so far as foreign office knowledge is concerned, it is hardly a credit to the ability or even sanity of the british legations in scandinavia if they have denied knowledge of these colossal imports of goods into germany, which were known to almost every inhabitant of seaport towns. if they deliberately shut their eyes to the evidence all around them, they presumably obeyed orders. one could then only wonder as to the reason for such suicidal policy. as before mentioned, at the commencement of his speech sir edward grey laid stress upon the fact that part of the stated increased import, namely, , , barrels of flour were allowed to be exported to belgium; whilst a little later in his speech he admitted that "she [germany] had requisitioned the food supplies of the civil population of poland and belgium." almost immediately afterwards lord robert cecil strove hard to back up the secretary for foreign affairs, but he could not give the house any positive assurance that the belgian relief distribution was absolutely independent of german control. the disposition of this is therefore obvious. sir edward grey attempted to whittle down the u.s.a. exports of wheat by stating that nearly half went to spain, portugal, greece, and malta; but he did not refer to the corn, etc., exported to northern neutrals from liverpool and other british ports, nor did he make any allowances for the stream of mysterious ships sailing round far northern seas (many of them choosing the passage north of iceland), which sighted land on the north-western coast of norway and carried their course inside neutral waters into the baltic; which heavily-laden cargo-boats i and others in the secret service had watched and reported week by week and month by month with heart-rending persistency. the majority of these ships probably sailed direct to german ports, and no records of their cargoes were likely to be made, or returned from any country concerning them. nor did sir edward grey make reference to the grain ships, which although nominally bound for scandinavian ports, were intercepted by their owners' or consignees' agents in the baltic, for the purpose of varying orders for their ultimate port of destination; nor to the ships which were held up in the baltic by german war vessels and taken to german ports under circumstances calling for grave investigation. nor did he attempt to answer the general american statistics showing that the gain in imports to northern neutral countries exceeded the german loss. about the middle of his speech sir edward grey said: "if a vessel was held up by the fleet with suspected cargo on board, the matter was referred to the contraband committee, who decided what _part_ of the cargo should go to the prize court." surely any other nation in the world at war would have arranged from the outset that the capture of a vessel _with contraband_ on board _en route for the enemy_, would have meant _confiscation_ of the ship and her cargo. our exceptional and extraordinary leniency was hardly commented upon; it was certainly not satisfactorily explained. continuing to quote from the speech: _he would_ say to neutrals that we could not give up the right to interfere with enemy trade and must maintain and press that point. _he would_ ask those countries in considering our rights to apply the principles which were applied by the american government in the war between the north and south as affected by modern conditions. _if they agreed_ to it, then let them with their chambers of commerce and other bodies make it easier for us to distinguish between goods intended for the enemy and goods intended for themselves. _if those_ neutral countries said that we were not entitled to prevent trading through, neutral countries with the enemy, _then he_ (sir e. grey) _must say_ to the neutral countries who took that line that it was a departure from neutrality. (cheers.) but he did not think they would take that line. what naturally strikes the reader on perusal is this: why not the words, "i had said" and "i have asked" instead of "he would say" and "he would ask" which sir edward grey used in his speech? why wait eighteen months to arrive at such a decision? why were not these words used as soon as war was declared? flagrant breaches arose, as sir edward grey should or must have known, and continued to increase in magnitude from the autumn of . why he waited until the then date, and why he had not acted before, was not explained. in the next few grandiloquent sentences he admitted the justification and the necessity; whilst the house cheered the words, forgetting past neglected deeds. next he admitted that "germany had, in effect, treated food, when she found it, as absolute contraband since the first outbreak of war." this admission gave one much to ponder over. on the point of a stricter blockade sir edward grey suggested that "if a rigorous blockade had been established the whole world would have been against us." such a contingency, put into legal parlance, is too ridiculously remote for further consideration. why did he not explain why our fleet was not allowed to limit particular imports to neutral countries to certain fixed totals per month, or per annum? it is unthinkable to suppose that any country would seriously threaten war in face of former well-known precedent and because such limits were imposed by a blockading fleet. more particularly so if any such affected country happened to have been one of the parties to the treaty of the hague, which affirmed the integrity of poor innocent, unoffending belgium; the country which, without justification or excuse, was violated, and ravished, outraged by the barbarian hun invaders, and which so many other countries watched aghast without attempting to help england to protect or to avenge. admittedly it would have been easy for us to close the baltic and the mediterranean. why did we not do so? we could then have regulated to each country not at war its full and fair average annual complement of necessities plus an extra and a generous margin for contingencies. the government of each recipient country would have seen to it that its own respective countrymen reaped full benefits; leaks to the central powers would have automatically stopped. what countries would such a course of action have forced into war against us? possibly sweden, doubtfully holland, remotely denmark. america had boasted she was "too proud to fight." she might have favoured us with a "note," but her love of trade would have been an absolute bar to the possibility of any cessation of supplies and munitions. no other country would have demurred except greece, and the vacillating tactics of the greeks were but the harvest which could have been expected from the seed of "wait-and-see" diplomatic sowing. this is clearly shown by the utterances of king tino, who said: "i fear the germans. i do not fear the english." the greeks have similarly expressed themselves. "we know the germans would rob, murder, and outrage our land and our people without any hesitation. the english are quite incapable of anything of that kind." it had been proved that consulates in greece had been nests of espionage and arsenals of munitions, and the islands bases for submarine murderers; and yet their king actually sent us a protest against our movement at salonika to assist the persecuted serbians whom he and his country had pledged themselves to uphold and protect; a solemn treaty they had long ago undertaken, but so conveniently forgotten and lamely excused themselves out of as soon as called upon to carry it into active force. as a general answer to the direct charges of the press that the foreign office had not kept faith with the nation in doing all that could be done to make an effective blockade, as an explanation to sweep on one side the overwhelming mass of evidence relating to the extraordinary number of german agents and dealers who swarmed throughout scandinavia and holland, their amazing advertisements, their suddenly accumulated wealth, the balance sheets showing large profits of neutral companies dealing in germany's requirements, the alleged wholesale dealers of imported goods so suddenly sprung up from the ranks of hotel porters, clerks, typists, adventurers, caretakers, and even charwomen and servant-girls, our own inflated home prices of necessities and commodities--sir edward grey's answer to all this was: the government had lately sent lord faringdon to examine the position in holland and scandinavia and he reported that on the whole things were very satisfactory and that all was being done that could be done to prevent the enemy obtaining supplies. well might the fat stomachs of the "goulashes"[ ] extend and shake in merriment when they read these comfortable words! sir edward grey concluded his speech with this stirring peroration: the whole of our resources were engaged in this war, and our maximum effort was at the disposal of our allies in carrying on this conflict. with them we should see it through to the end and we should slacken no effort in the common cause. we should exert all our efforts to put the maximum possible pressure upon the enemy, and part of that pressure must be doing the most we could to prevent supplies going to or from the enemy, _using the navy to its full power_ ... and in common with our allies sparing nothing, whether it were military, naval, or financial effort, which this country could afford, to see the thing through with them to the end. in the loud cheering with which the house of commons received the speech no thought was given to the famous words of napoleon: "put no faith in talk which is not borne out by action"; whilst future events went to show that napoleon truly forecasted england's present-day weakness when he wrote: "feebleness in its government is the most frightful calamity that can befall a nation." contrast sir edward grey's eloquent words and diplomatic evasiveness upon the treatment of neutrals with the plain, outspoken, thoroughly english opinion of lord fisher, who is credited with having said: "there are no such things as neutral powers. powers are either with us or against us. if they are friendly they will put up with some inconvenience; if they are unfriendly they will squeal. let them squeal." had we acted throughout on this dictum the war would most probably have been over well inside of eighteen months. men of the calibre of this grand old sea lord, whose farsight, foresight, and second sight have endeared him to the nation and made him unique and incomparable, would soon have made short work of the war. yet they were not wanted by the then present-day party-system government. they were much too blunt and honest and energetically active. the nation will also remember that when lord kitchener of khartoum returned from the east in the early days of the then present government, it had no use for his invaluable services. he was actually permitted to accept a directorship of one of our poorest railway companies on the south coast for want of a better occupation.[ ] but the press and the public soon brought the government to book, as it seemingly had to do in every matter of real national importance. the government tried to keep lord haldane installed at the war office, but the press would have none of it. it also insisted on k. of k. being placed in his proper place and kept there. more's the pity that he was not given a free hand to do as he liked. the press also clamoured for lord fisher as first lord of the admiralty. the nation knows how he was treated. a captain in the navy aptly described the unwanted and slighted admiral expert in _john bull_, february, , as follows: "lord john fisher is to-day our second nelson--a diplomatist among diplomats and a strategist unequalled in our history. what has lord john fisher done? "he scrapped obsolete warships which were rotting in harbour at great expense--for which the government tried to reprimand him. "he introduced the water-tube boilers, which, as every engineer and seaman knows, raise a full head of steam in twenty minutes, instead of twenty hours, as formerly. "he introduced the steam turbine, which was adopted by every nation. "he introduced oil fuel into the navy, thus making destroyers capable of steaming further, a great benefit being the almost total absence of smoke. he also applied it to battleships and other large craft. "he introduced the dreadnought, the bulwark of britain, and the ship that baffled the german nation and made the kiel canal useless for years. the oil-burning, water-tubed destroyer, and the _queen elizabeth_--the secret service ship and the monitor--all emanated from his brain. "he introduced the battle-cruiser, against the will of a timorous government whose cry was ever, 'cut down armaments,' 'cut down the army and navy.' had fisher listened, the germans would to-day have outraged our wives and crucified our children. "he planned the falkland islands battle, and sent the secret service ships to chase the german submarines out of the channel. he fought hard against the dardanelles expedition. "he was sea lord when we sank the _blucher_, the german destroyers in the north sea, the german fleet at the falklands. "he is a great man, who seems never to have made a mistake." whilst sir edward grey was giving his explanations in the house of commons, lord devonport was busy in another place. he is one of our shrewdest and most experienced business men. as chairman of the port of london authority and former parliamentary secretary of the board of trade, he would not be likely to go into figures lightly. he had given notice to ask the government for its official figures of holland's imports of ore (metal) during . the duke of devonshire replied that the figures provided him were only , tons. it was admitted that holland had virtually no smelting plant, nor coal to feed it if it had, and the government was virtually bound to confess that at least this amount of contraband had mostly gone straight through to germany. lord devonport clearly stated that in reality one and a half million tons of metal ore had been imported; whilst he produced statistics showing the name of every ship, the date of entry, the place from which the cargo came, the quantity and character of the ore carried, and the agents to whom each was consigned. to summarise shortly the total shipments for the period named by lord devonport, august, , to january , , it appears that ships carrying , , tons of metal ore entered rotterdam. the countries from which the ore came included sweden, norway, spain, algeria, russia, and great britain. the totals shown monthly are as follows: ore cargoes. . no. of ships. tons. august , september , october , november , december , ------ total , . january , february , march , april , may , june , july , august , september , october , november , december , total , , . to january , ------- grand total , , two hundred and fifty eight ships carried , , tons of iron ore; ships carried , tons of zinc ore, the remainder taking copper ore, pyrites, nickel, manganese, and calamine. lord devonport added: "what has come of the much-vaunted order in council declaring that no goods should either enter or leave germany? what is the ultimate destination of these cargoes? there is no concealment about the matter. every captain knows exactly. there are no facilities in holland for converting ore into pig-iron; not a single blast-furnace, and no coal to feed it even if there were. "the cargoes are transhipped into barges and carried up the rhine to a place in easy communication with essen, where krupp's works are situated. sweden is the main source of the supply. _it is astounding to me that the british government should sit still while these ores are sent to the enemy_ from mines which are virtually the property of the swedish government. "great though _the imports of ore into rotterdam have been, they are insignificant compared with the importations in german ports_ in the baltic sea and the north sea--lübeck, stettin, swinemunde, emden and others. _from may st to december st, , the total of those imports were cargoes and , , tons of ore._ the question is going to become critical for, _though the country has been tolerant and long-enduring, things have not gone too well_. the sheet-anchor of the situation is the british fleet." "the figures," says _fairplay_, the shipping paper, "sufficiently indicate the absurdity of supposing that the netherlands overseas trust or any similar artificial would-be barrier as at present constituted can, in fact, prevent the enemy from receiving vital supplies of raw or manufactured material." nineteen days after the delivery of sir edward grey's "blockade" speech in the house of commons mr. t. gibson bowles, speaking at a great city demonstration in london on february th, , under lord devonport as chairman and convened for the purpose of protesting against hampering our navy, said: "since the war began sir edward grey had hampered, shackled, and strangled the fleet in the performance of its duties." whilst lord charles beresford wrote to the chairman: "if the government had used our sea power as they were legally entitled to do at the commencement of the war, by instituting an effective blockade and making all goods entering germany absolute contraband, the war would now be over." lord aberconway added: "the matter is far too serious to be trifled with any longer; my personal knowledge intensifies my conviction." the government having attempted to evade any direct answer to the startling figures and accusations of the _daily mail_ disclosing the get-rich-quick method of the scandinavian goulashes, lord northcliffe sent a special commissioner to holland, and published the result of his investigations in february, . it showed a repetition of the sordid scandinavian fiasco, a further proof that the so-called blockade was leaking in every seam. to enumerate the masses of statistics would be wearisome. it is sufficient for present purposes to quote a few extracts. _cocoa beans._--of the tons imported into holland in germany received the whole. _cocoa butter._--england could only obtain half what she had in , whereas germany obtained five times as much. _cocoa powder._--england obtained half supplies, whereas germany obtained approximately ten times as much. _cocoa in blocks._--in germany imported tons from holland, belgium none at all; whereas in no less than tons were exported from holland into these two countries, all for german use. _copra._--in germany obtained , tons of copra from holland, whereas in the amount rose to the amazing total of , tons. it would appear from the figures that england was indirectly supplying germany _inter alia_ with margarine. in great britain sent to holland , tons of the raw material, as against , tons in . germany sent no raw material to holland during either of the years quoted. in holland exported tons of margarine to belgium and to germany tons. in holland exported , tons to belgium and , tons to germany. _totals of tons suddenly jumped to , ._ _coffee._--before the war germany had always exported coffee to holland in thousands of tons. during she sent in none at all, but she imported from holland , tons; whilst , tons in addition were sent to belgium for german use as against a prior yearly average import of about , tons. _n.b._--england, which during , and exported a yearly average of , tons of coffee to holland, suddenly increased her exports to this country to , tons in and to , tons in . in march, , brazil was seizing german ships because she could not collect a trifle of about £ , , owing to her for coffee by the fatherland. _cotton._--in the three years before the war england exported an average of , tons of unspun cotton to holland, but in she sent no less than , tons. germany, which _exported_ an average of , tons before the war, actually _imported_ from holland direct in no less than , tons. the commercial treaty of the rhine, cunningly made by the clever teutons before war was declared, prevented the dutch from even examining any cargoes which were thereunder arranged for direct shipment into germany; whilst from the very first the workings of the much-boasted arrangement made by our foreign office with the netherlands overseas trust _piled up evidence, week by week and month by month, that our so-called blockade was an absolute farce_. in the famous "kim" case before the prize court, the president, sir samuel evans, made the law quite clear. figures were placed before the court to show that the average monthly quantities of lard exported from the united states to all scandinavia in october and november, , was , lbs. within three months of the outbreak of war one company was shipping to copenhagen alone _considerably over twenty times that quantity in three weeks_. when it might have been thought that the public had forgotten this complete and overwhelming evidence, lord emmott, speaking on behalf of the government, told the house of lords that "an abnormal supply to a country is not sufficient reason to stop a cargo." here was a government spokesman absolutely contradicting the prize court judge--another unwarrantable interference with the rights of democracy. on february nd and rd, , the house of lords debated an important motion ably advocated by lord sydenham. "that in conformity with the principle of international law and the legitimate rights of neutrals, more effective use could be made of the allied fleets in preventing supplies, directly conducing to the prolongation of the war, from reaching the enemy." lord lansdowne, lord emmott and the marquis of crewe spoke in defence of the government, but they brought forward no direct proof to upset the alarming statistics which had been quoted against them. some figures, however, were given to show that during the last past month a greater activity had been caused, in consequence of which there had been some diminution of imports to germany; whilst it was further promised that as an attempt to concentrate the general supervision of the war trades committee the work should be placed in the hands of one minister, lord robert cecil, who would be given cabinet rank. that lord robert cecil is a man of great ability no one doubts. the stock he springs from is pedigree so far as politics are concerned, but he is a lawyer. for many years past this country has suffered greatly from a glut of lawyer politicians, particularly in the unwieldy cabinet of twenty-three members. the nation remembered only too well how this noble lord had fought so strenuously and so persistently against cotton being made contraband. his appointment therefore to this post of vital importance, which could influence, affect and control the duration of the war to such a great extent, was strongly objected to by the public at large. neither the act nor the man carried an iota of confidence. to have seriously attacked the government and put it out of office would have raised a general outcry. it was considered disloyal even to criticise. "wait and see" was the only policy englishmen were permitted to contemplate. meanwhile this farce, this weakness or this cowardly inaction, whichever epithet is most appropriate to it, was permitted to drift its course. gleefully the germans continued to annex the rich cod and herring harvests of norway, nor did they cavil at the super-price. gleefully the norwegian fishermen continued to rake in the deluge of gold, the like of which had never been known within the memory of man. gleefully the goulashes of scandinavia continued to increase and multiply, whilst they prospered and waxed exceedingly rich, in spite of a few widely-proclaimed spectacular fines and confiscations. the advertisements in the papers of neutral countries offering to supply necessities direct into germany also continued and spread, like the proverbial grain of mustard-seed, until the very mails were glutted with contraband. one of these multitudinous advertisements is given as an example. it is from the _fatherland_, march th, , the subsidised german-american weekly published in new york: food to germany. delivered through my firm at stuttgart. can condensed milk cents fruit marmalades, per pound cents fifty cigars $ . one pound of rice cents one pound of bacon cents one pound of lard cents one pound of cheese cents cigarettes $ . also dried fruits, beans, peas, etc. invigorating wines for sick and wounded. information and price lists on request. e. r. trieler, dept. f. - , west rd st., new york. no wonder lord grimthorpe, after quoting an influential frenchman's opinion that "england had muscles of iron but brains of wool," argued that, instead of bringing more lawyers into the management, the country would be much more satisfied if the ministry of blockade was put into the hands of a fighting man like lord beresford or lord fisher. those in the secret service knew that since the outbreak of war germans had employed only soldiers and sailors to manage it; and that all their lawyers and civilian politicians had been relegated to a back seat until further notice; furthermore, that only proved ability counted. patronage, length of service, hereditary and social altitude carried no weight whatsoever at berlin; whilst the capacity for organisation and thoroughness which germany exhibited had astonished the world. yea, verily, it is a true saying that "britishers are the greatest muddlers on earth." it seems to be their grim bulldog pertinacity only which pulls them through, and their individuality which gives them the stamina to stay. as the winter turned to spring and the spring to summer other terrible disasters arose which diverted the attention of the nation from the bogus blockade. mr. asquith's "one bright spot," the mesopotamia expedition, turned to gall and wormwood; the terrible gallipoli fiasco shocked the nation; the pampered irish rebels appeared in their true colours; the careless sacrifice of a man whom many believed to be one of the noblest and greatest of army chiefs (k. of k.) this world had ever seen, paralysed and numbed every english-speaking land; whilst german spies were still permitted to press their deadly finger-prints upon our national throat owing to our unbelievable weakness in neglecting to intern all aliens of belligerent nationality. meanwhile the press continued to growl and to publish statistics from time to time to prove that the so-called blockade was still as great a farce as ever; furthermore, it was absolutely and utterly ineffective to stop supplies going to germany. whilst ministers and members of the government still had the audacity to refer to its alleged effectiveness and to call attention to the unenviable plight of starving germany. all true englishmen should gratefully thank god that we had at least one man amongst the few real men who had the courage of his convictions, namely, mr. w. m. hughes, the australian premier. he, during his all too short sojourn in the motherland, rendered noble, great and patriotic service. he called with an unmistakable voice at the british imperial council of commerce in london, on june th, , for a real blockade. he said: "do you realise the tremendous pile of treasure we are pouring out in this contest? do you think that any nation, no matter how wealthy, can stand indefinitely such a strain on its wealth? it cannot. we are living like spendthrifts, upon our capital. there must come a day when we can no longer live upon it. i want to emphasise the point that we cannot continue this struggle indefinitely. the blockade is one great weapon at our disposal--one of the most effective weapons for shortening the duration of the war--by increasing the pressure upon the enemy. _if the blockade had been effective earlier it would have curtailed the war._ we now have the power, as mr. balfour said, to make that blockade still more effective, and whatever stands in the way of making that blockade effective against the enemy and against neutrals must be swept aside. _we have to choose between offending neutrals and inviting defeat._ we have to choose between pouring out our treasure and losing the lives of thousands of our best and bravest. let us hedge around this nation (germany) a ring of triple steel through which nothing shall pass. i have been told there are still things going out of britain to germany. i am told the reason given is that we are getting german money in exchange. that argument does not appeal to me. i would not tolerate the practice for another hour. i would treat those who engage in it as i would treat any other traitor to his country. therefore insist upon the blockade being such a blockade as will compel our enemies to recognise the power of britain and the allies." lord hugh cecil, the blockade minister, does not appear to have been amongst those present at this memorable gathering. more's the pity of it! had he been perhaps he might have had his eyes opened at last to the folly and inefficiency of his previous policy and foolishly expressed fallacies. to the probable relief and secret joy of the cabinet, and to the irreparable loss of the nation, mr. w. m. hughes was in the early summer of compelled to return to his duties in australia. after his regretted departure the so-called blockade continued to leak, as is proved by the following facts and figures which found their way into the press in spite of all the hushing-up processes of the weaklings in power. can it be wondered at that many thousands of astounded englishmen were actually beginning to believe that some of our prominent ministers did not want to win the war because they were either indirectly interested financially in teutonic enterprise, or they were pro-german from other mysteriously concealed causes? what other possible reasons seemed arguable in view of their extraordinary actions, their leaving undone those things which they ought to have done, and their doing those things which they ought not to have done? how german production steadily revived from the shock of the first year of the war is shown by the following table of pig-iron output in tons published in the _berliner tageblatt_: . . . january , , , , , february , , , , , march , , , , , april , , , , , may , , , june , , , july , , , , august , , , september , , , october , , , november , , , december , , , asking the prize court on june th, , to condemn the swedish vessel _hakan_, of gothenburg, with her cargo of , barrels of salted herrings, the attorney-general, sir f. e. smith, alleged that the fish were intended for germany. writing from lübeck to gottfried friedrichs, fishmongers, of altona, said the attorney-general, a member of the firm of witte & co., their forwarding agents, said: "we have prohibited the export of herrings from norway, but our firm has obtained a licence to export , tons. we hope to sell , tons this winter, so there is plenty of work." sir samuel evans: how many herrings in , tons? the attorney-general: my assistants and confederates inform me that there are about , , herrings. it is a conservative estimate. these are official figures published by the netherlands statistical department on may th, ; such great assistance rendered to germany is more serious owing to the fact that germany's gain has been our loss. foodstuffs sent from holland, in tons. (covering the months january to april.) eggs-- . . to germany , , to britain , fish-- to germany , , to belgium -- -- meat-- to germany , , to britain , potato flour and its products-- to germany , , to britain , , coffee-- to germany , , cocoa powder-- to germany , to britain , , butter-- to germany , , to britain , cheese-- to germany , , to britain , one has only to cast the eye down these figures to see what holland means as a depôt for germany's food. during the first four months of holland had imported by consent of great britain , tons of cereals. no less than , tons were re-exported from holland and consequently did not go into home consumption there; , tons of this went over into belgium. it is important, also, to note that of the cereals imported , tons of maize were included in the total. most of this maize was used for fattening pigs, which were eventually slaughtered and sent to germany. this abundance of pig food allowed by us to be consumed by the dutch pigs in fact enabled the dutch to fatten the immense supply which they sent over to germany. the meat figures given above must be read in the light of this fact. the more we sent into holland for her home supply, the more she could release of her home-grown products to the enemy. as between holland, germany and ourselves, we lost tremendously. germany and holland were of immense assistance to each other, at our expense. a weekly circular of the london rice brokers' association shows the following striking contrasts in exports from london: exports of rice from london. january st to may th, . same period, . cwt. cwt. to holland , , (say , tons) to france , thus the export to holland had greatly increased and the supply to france had dwindled almost out of existence. during the single week ended may th, , , cwt. (say , tons) were shipped to holland from london. on june nd, , the london press wailed over the enormous supplies of grain entering germany through roumania, which she was enabled to purchase by exchanging goods made from the raw material permitted so kindly by england to leak through the blockade. in april one consignment of , , eggs passed from holland to germany in two days only. indeed, so vast was the drain of germany upon holland that the dutch people complained in june that they were being stinted of their proper food supply. norway continued to supply nickel, fish, copper, fish oils, and many other things, although england at last awoke in the spring of to the advisability of purchasing part of the norwegian fish harvests. in this deal, however, her lawyer government had not the sense to consult the best export fish merchants, who are essentially business men. she went to work in the usual amateurish way, which spelt reckless waste and extravagance; paying £ to £ per package for what could have been previously arranged for at about s. or less. the english government throughout the war had the norwegian fish trade absolutely in its own hands. yet one of its own consuls supplied germany wholesale in ; it supplied coal and salt to assist the germans to garner in practically the entire harvest of ; and it was not until the middle of that some english sluggard in power woke up and paid through the nose for what could have been purchased practically on our own terms. sweden continued to supply almost everything and anything that germany required, openly when possible, smuggled in by all manner of tricks and dodges should any difficulty of transport be likely to arise. at the end of june, , a liverpool merchant contributed some remarkable facts and figures to the _liverpool courier_, proving that england was helping germany to obtain what she required at the expense of the home consumer in england. the net result of his arguments was that our shipping and home ports were congested for several months by dutch imports through private arrangements between holland and england, whereby holland was supplying germany to a colossal extent and frustrating the supreme purposes of the so-called blockade. in conclusion, he plaintively besought the nation to adopt the strangle-knot of mr. hughes by so tightening the blockade that holland would no longer be able to provide the germans with food for her peoples and materials for the manufacture of guns and explosives to slaughter our sons. the tables of figures quoted showed in glaring contrast the usual enormous increases of imports upon pre-war returns which the british reader had grown quite accustomed to see. to give but one example: the shipments of margarine from holland to germany during showed thirteen times greater, etc. on july th, , during the hearing of a case in the london prize court relating to the s.s. _maracus_, the solicitor-general (sir george cave) read an affidavit by mr. john hargreaves, provision merchant, liverpool, stating that in the price of lard in germany was s. per cwt., as against s. in liverpool. at that price there was an inducement to american shippers to risk shipment to germany, and to german buyers to open credits in new york. should the american shipper succeed in getting two shipments through, he might well make a large profit which would amply compensate him for the loss of one shipment, apart from his chance of recovering compensation from the british government. an affidavit by mr. r. m. greenwood, assistant treasury solicitor, showed the imports of foodstuffs into copenhagen during the first six months of as compared with the similar period of . the figures were: . . pork , lbs. , , lbs. lard , , " , , " oleo , , " , , " the evidence in the case proved that the ship was bound for germany and her captain had been promised a bonus of £ if the goods reached their destination. on june th, , lord robert cecil in reply to a question in the house of commons, said: "as the result of the paris conference his majesty would be advised to issue an order in council withdrawing the successive orders which had been issued adopting with modifications the declaration of london, and a general statement should also be issued explaining the reason for this step." amidst the loud cheering which followed a voice was heard to exclaim, "after twenty-three months!" how potsdam must have hugged itself with delight in , , and at the absurdly childish simplicity exhibited by the english liberal government in nullifying all its geographical advantages by accepting such a one-sided code of sea-law which gave germany the right to stop food _en route_ to british ports, while forbidding great britain to stop food _en route_ to germany, and whilst in force rendered any effective blockade of germany impossible. but what powerful mysterious motives prompted its re-adoption after it had been rejected by the house of lords? again on august th, , why did the cabinet illegally put it into force with modifications--though article thereof states that the code is indivisible? what was held in the unseen hand and to whom was it extended? on august nd, , m. clemenceau published an article in _l'homme enchainé_, headed, "a fresh assassination," in which, after commenting upon the brutal murders of nurse cavell and the innocent captain fryatt, he wrote: "it is time that great britain made the weight of her will felt, especially as regards the strict application of the blockade, which, has too often been relaxed out of a desire not to arouse an unpleasant quarrel with washington. it is time to end these half-measures. we must make up our minds as to what to do, and do it." on july th, , lord robert cecil admitted in the house of commons, in reply, what was tantamount to a confession that the british fleet employed in the blockade was still muzzled, being bound down by red-tape precedents and strict london directions. on july th he was further compelled to confess that , tons of lard had been permitted to enter belgium, as well as about , tons of tallow and other fats. nominally this was fathered by the neutral relief committee, but in reality it was just so much more assistance granted to the enemy. fat (for explosives) in tons in the early part of germany exported lard to holland, but this ceased on the eve of war. great britain, on the other hand, for some extraordinary and unintelligible reason, permitted her exports to holland to increase. these are the figures: from germany. from great britain. nil , nil , barley for malt in great britain exported to holland about fifteen times more barley than normal pre-war exports, so diminishing our home supplies that the british working-man was deprived of his national beverage through shortage and prohibitive prices. whisky also was similarly affected. tobacco the christian spirit of "love your neighbours and your enemies better than yourselves" had apparently no limits with the british government. their loyal and hard-suffering subjects were deprived of a full supply of the soothing weed on the excuse of economising freight room, but no effort seems to have been made to curtail _dutch supplies_, which were _thirty-five times greater than the pre-war exports_. in hamburg and bremen exported , tons of tobacco to holland, but in and neither of these towns exported any at all. the amounts exported by holland from january to june in tons were as follows: to great britain. to germany. , , , , , the figures published by the german steel and iron manufacturers association for the first six months of each respective year show the following outputs, thanks to sir francis oppenheimer's previous netherlands overseas trust, which permits iron ore in millions of tons to proceed direct to krupps' and other blast furnaces in germany without let or hindrance to be used against us. pig iron tons , , , , steel , , , , the _lokal anzeiger_, july th, , remarked: "these figures constitute a most gratifying state of affairs in respect of the _requirements of the german armies_." no wonder the captured german officer remarked: "you english will always be fools, whilst we germans can never be gentlemen"! in august[ ] a mr. e. bell, of , yarborough road, lincoln, wrote to the press as follows: "the talk of tightening the blockade of germany is rather futile in face of the following board of trade figures referring to cotton yarn exported from the united kingdom to the following neutral countries: june sweden norway denmark holland switzerland , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , "germany is obviously getting the surplus." the values[ ] of new york exports taken for the week july th to august th are equally startling: . . new york to £ £ norway , , holland , holland and scandinavia , , on august th, , an agreement was signed between the dutch fishing association and the british government regarding the release of some to dutch fishing-boats laid up in scottish ports, whereby not more than per cent. of their catch shall be permitted to go to germany. of the remainder twenty per cent. was to be retained for home consumption, and sixty per cent. sold to neutral countries. on each barrel of this sixty per cent. the good, kind, benevolent british government agreed to pay a subsidy of s. to the dutch boat-owners. now the d.f.a. owned about vessels and , barrels is a good average season's catch! in addition to this arrangement the british government agreed to pay full compensation for their loss of part of the season, to be calculated on the basis of the returns on an average season. they also agreed to pay for any damage which might have happened to the interned boats.[ ] one wonders what british fishermen whose vessels have been commandeered had to say when they were informed of these facts. the _hamburger nachrichten_ of august rd, , published a telegram from its hague correspondent declaring that the semi-official german central purchase company was seizing dutch food in enormous quantities; that local merchants were in a state of alarm and threatening government interference; and their correspondent defiantly stated: "the netherlands government will hardly dream of interfering with the activity of the dutch bureau of the german central purchase company, the operations of which are assuming larger and larger dimensions." to add further proof of the utter futility and hollow sham of the alleged blockade safeguards, namely, the danish association agreement and the netherlands overseas trust, sir henry dalziel informed the house of commons on august nd, , that in june denmark imported _over ten times as much cotton yarn_ as in june, , and that in the first six months of the present year holland exported to germany _over twenty times as much butter_ as in the first six months of , nearly _eight times as much cheese_, and _over seven times as much meat_. the unfortunate lord robert cecil in mid-august gave quite a eulogistic report upon his stewardship as blockade minister, which was immediately followed by the arrival from new york of the custom house returns showing that during the week ending august th the value of the exports to holland, norway, sweden, and denmark was _eight times_ as _great_ as in the corresponding week of the preceding year. to holland the exports had increased in value _a thousandfold_ and to norway _seventy-fivefold_. on september st, , the government, through the war trade statistical department, issued to the press an official memorandum on the question of the efficacy of the british blockade. it barely amounted to the proverbial half-truth, and was pitiably feeble. it was more than unfortunate that the government should rush into print just before the united states export figures were due for publication--only a week later. these latter reliable statistics showed an extraordinary state of affairs: exports from u.s.a. . . . £ £ £ to norway , , , , , , " sweden , , , , , , " denmark , , , , , , " holland , , , , , , " switzerland , , , , the _telegraaf_, amsterdam's leading journal, on september th, , quoted governmental statistics to account for the excessive rise in price of her home products, concluding by the statement that "holland has sold her livelihood for greater war profits"; whilst all the dutch press seemed to deplore mildly the vast and unmanageable manner in which the smuggling of goods over the german frontier was permitted to continue. the figures for meat, cheese, eggs, vegetables, and butter showed an average _increased export of seventy-five per cent._ on preceding years. practically every ounce went to germany or to territory under her rule. on september th, , reuter's representative at the hague was able to announce that: "the dutch overseas trust had obtained the release of tons of kapok, java cotton, and had also succeeded in removing the difficulties in the way of the importation of cocoa-beans." such paragraphs as the above could be found repeatedly by anyone who chose to search the press. no wonder the smouldering wrath of the long-suffering british public became fanned to a flame and its confidence in its so-called representative ministers correspondingly decreased. on september th, , the foreign office issued a notice that no further export licenses or further facilities would be given by h.m.g. for the importation of certain specified commodities until further notice. the list embraced scores of foods, but, in fact, was merely another patch to the very ragged mantle covering the so-called blockade. on september th, , the war trade statistical department made another feeble attempt in public to refute the statistics quoted by the press. it set out specious and plausible arguments why general conclusions should be drawn in a light more favourable to our interests. it gave no denials nor suggested that the figures quoted were not correct. it was a fretful official apology, a tacit admission of weakness and inefficiency. a casual remark was made by a really able german in the wilhelmstrasse on english policy in regard to germany, to mr. d. t. curtin, as reported by him in the _times_, october st, . "he said to me: "'when the war began we thought it would be a fight between the german army and the british navy. that was the cause of the outbreak of german anger against england on august th, . as time went on we found that the english government drew the teeth of its navy and enabled us to get in through the then so-called blockade supplies of cotton, copper, lubricating oil, wool' (here he named some twenty commodities) 'in a sufficiency that will last us many long months yet. how different would have been our position to-day if the british navy had controlled the blockade as we had every reason to fear it would! we can and will hold out for a long time, thanks to their blunders.' "blockade policy, prisoner policy, enemy trade control, the zeppelin reprisal policy--all these are puzzles to the rulers of germany. all are taken as part and parcel of their belief of your desire to curry favour with them and your fear of their after-the-war trade struggle. "the average german holds similar views as to america's fear of the kaiser's army and navy after the war. they frankly tell us that it will be our turn next." on october th, , mr. d. t. curtin explained in the _times_ how, when he was in germany, a neutral and pro-ally resident of a certain port in germany with whom he discussed things took him for a walk and showed him the quays. there were not hundreds, but thousands of barrels of fats. "it almost makes me weep," he said, "to know that every one of these barrels lengthens the war and destroys the lives of gallant soldiers and their officers." and apart from the public evasions of the blockade is the secret smuggling--difficult to deal with. a day or so previously mr. curtin had written: "every bar of chocolate entering germany prolongs the war, which i know from my own personal necessities. the allies and the government should realise the great value of the utmost pressure of the blockade." it was not until december, , that the rising tide of public feeling threatened to burst the banks of reasonable control. on the first day of that month a crowded meeting of city business men was held in the cannon street hotel under the presidency of lord leith of fyvie to protest against the slackness of the government and terrible blunders which were far too serious to openly discuss; in particular to insist that "the british navy be set free to exercise to the full all its lawful sea powers." startling disclosures were made, and the government, which had twice restored itself after its legal expiration, was characterised as worn-out and stale, unable to make peace any more than it was able to make war; sentiments which were unanimously acclaimed. almost the entire british press echoed this condemnation, and the haldane group, recognising that discretion was the better part, awoke at last from its delusions of the value placed by the nation upon their personal services, and after a few feeble remonstrances retired in favour of a new cabinet. "wait and see" was compelled to give place to "do it now." mr. asquith the unready, lord grey of falloden, the irresolute, lord haldane, the friend of the kaiser, and the simonite group of backers, who for fifteen unlucky years had so grievously and disastrously led the country astray; who had cut down armaments, hoodwinked the nation, and when war was declared held back conscription, muzzled the fleet and were too late for everything, were at last fallen from doing further mischief, and the nation breathed its prayers of thankfulness. of the late prime minister (mr. asquith) one able editor wrote: "never before in all our history have such opportunities been given. he had no opposition; the nation was solid; the empire was behind him. no country has ever given any leader such devotion and none has ever seen its devotion so carelessly wasted. declaring he would 'stick at nothing,' he stuck at everything, and moved only when he was pushed."[ ] what germany thought of the change is reflected in an extract from its press when it first heard of the resignation of mr. david lloyd george from the war office, and it was under the belief that the haldane group had triumphed over him. the bavarian _courier_, december th, , said: "this is a terrible disaster for the war party in england," whilst the leipzig _tageblatt_ said: "the british people have doubtless had enough of this war agitator. his fall from power brings nearer an honourable peace for germany." within a few days of mr. lloyd george being created prime minister of england the kaiser was seeking peace. _res ipsa loquitur._ * * * * * what has been given is merely a rough and very deficient resumé of england's sham blockade, which was permitted to muddle along its costly, tragic, and fatal course until the americans joined the allies in their fight for freedom and the rights of small nations. washington at once swept aside maudlin sentiment by its practical common sense, get-right-there-quick decisions. the nation's relief cannot be expressed in words. was it to be wondered at that from the soul of the motherland prayers had so long and so often ascended? "oh, for a man of the old, old viking blood to lead and direct the battle in place of those poor craven lawyer politicians in the cabinet of the never-to-be-forgotten twenty-three!" indeed, this was the darkest hour before the dawn. the autumn of saw the advent of the magic of the wizard from wales. to him all honour is due. for some years prior to the war he had been perhaps the most hated man england had ever known. he had helped to minimise the army, the navy, and the house of lords; he had led people to believe it was almost a crime to own land; he had descended to the lowest levels of vulgar abuse regarding our most sacred traditions; he had helped rob the church in his native land; he had become despised by the noblest and best of his fellow-countrymen. his sole ambition, apparently, had been to gain the popularity of the masses--a transient glory which might fade in an hour. he had attained the position almost of a deity with the extreme radical and socialistic mob. but, in this hour of great britain's direst peril, he valiantly came forth. he buckled on his armour of undaunted courage and vast ability. he put his whole heart and soul into the fight, absolutely ignoring what effect his actions might have upon his recent followers, forgetting all his schemes of lifelong planning, and concentrating all his vast abilities and ceaseless, untiring energies upon one single concrete thought, one hope, one ideal--victory. like that greatest of all the heroes of ancient rome--_venit, vidit, vicit_. veritably he proved himself a man. * * * * * what a pity it is that since those days he has not adjusted himself to this changed world and seized the opportunities for real statesmanship that lie in this era of reconstruction! footnotes: [ ] completed on november th, . [ ] the following illuminating advertisement also appeared in the _neue freie presse_ of january : "for sale. tons prime beef, fresh packed in ice from holland. condensed milk from ---- amsterdam. raspberry jam. china tea, chests. soap, to per cent. fatty matter, wagons. sausages from ---- holland. cement, linseed oil, a wagon of each every week from ---- denmark. apply, etc." not far away from the above advertisement in the same paper is another. "soup extract, ½d. a cube. soup vegetables, julienne, s. d. per lb., china tea (souchong), s. per lb., just come from a danish export house." [ ] "apparently the declaration of london was valid in the house of commons, but not valid in the house of lords."--lord beresford, house of lords, february rd, . [ ] in referring to the keeping of government pledges, sir a. markham (l.) said: "the only thing the prime minister has stuck to has been his salary."--house of commons, march, . [ ] _goulashe_ is the name given to illicit traders with germany. [ ] books on the life of lord kitchener of khartoum do not dwell upon this unpardonable fact. some discreetly omit to mention it. [ ] _daily mail_, august th, . [ ] _evening news_, august th, . [ ] _daily mail_, august th, . [ ] _daily mail_ leading article, december th, . l'envoi before parting with my reader i feel an apology is due from me, not for anything i have written, but for what i have left unsaid. i admit this book is an amalgam, and far from being what it might have been, had circumstances not required the exercise of considerable restraint on the part of the writer. staunch loyalty to his native land is the least return every true-born british subject can make for his birthright; and just as in carrying out the investigations entrusted to me, i ever kept in mind that the one and only object of my existence for the time being was to help my country, so in compiling the preceding chapters i have been compelled, by what in a higher sphere would be called reasons of state, to suppress many facts and incidents which would, i make no doubt, have constituted interesting reading matter. i have striven to give nothing away that could be construed directly or indirectly against my country. i have touched, lightly, yet i trust sufficiently, upon the canker spots that i so fervently hope and pray may in time be eradicated from our system of home and foreign affairs. i may have added to my roll of enemies, yet i rejoice in the consolation that by my actions i know i have brought to me many true and great friends. my readers may complain that the narrative portion of the book dealing with detailed adventures could well have been extended, and that the discursive semi-political portion could well have been curtailed. i sympathise exceedingly with them to that extent, but if they knew all they would, i am sure, sympathise even more deeply with me in the difficulties which have arisen regarding the publication of these remnants of my knowledge which are now placed before them. the book, as it is, consists of but the fragments of a tale untold. had i been dealing with a foreign country as a foreigner, what a different word-film i could have unrolled!--whilst it must not be forgotten that i hope to re-visit in the future the countries mentioned. were i permitted to record all the happenings of the past i might find such a return too eagerly awaited and the welcome accorded might be open to various interpretations by the powers-that-be. it is extraordinary but nevertheless true that there are people who entertain doubtful feelings regarding anyone who has undertaken secret service work. some even suggest that such a person, male or female, could only be classified as a spy, a person to be shunned and avoided. what ignorance! what little-mindedness! when the country had declared war and we knew that the long-anticipated war with germany had become an established fact, what englishman, worthy of the name, could rest without dreams of active service? who hesitated to question the service? when i failed again and again for enlistment by reason of age and was told to apply to lord grey direct, i had a tinge of suspicion that if i did have the luck to be found acceptable it would probably be for foreign intelligence work. a bald statement of fact that such work was or is contemptible could only spring from a craven-souled individual who would probably shrink from his country's call in any event; from some narrow-minded, over-indulgent stay-at-home; or from some pompous, self-exalted incompetent, whose ideas of men and things are beneath contempt indeed. secret service is essentially a service of isolated individuality. a member is not supposed to know, nor permitted if possible to know, other members, beyond those whom he must of necessity meet; yet i knew many more active members than my c.o. had any knowledge or any intention that i should know. all those whom i had the honour of meeting i found to be men of honour, men whom i am proud to have met. i do not care to express any opinion concerning the ladies, because it is very certain that the more a man studies women the less he really knows of their true nature. the men in responsible positions (i do not attempt to include the underlings employed in casual cases) i found in every instance to be unflinchingly loyal and true to their country over every other consideration. i will give an instance of this extremeness. an officer in the army, whom i would unhesitatingly have trusted with my honour and my life, was working with me in a dangerous undertaking. to safeguard us both, so far as i could, i suggested that we should form an absolute alliance, for life or death. he solemnly agreed, but he made one stipulation. it was that, if he received a peremptory order from home to put an effective stop to my further services, he should, very reluctantly indeed, but without the smallest hesitation, shoot me without warning. he hastened to add: "you know, old chap, i need not express my known feelings to you, but i am a soldier of the king. i have to obey my orders, and when my country is at war i would shoot my whole family without question, if so ordered from h.q." i knew he meant it. i read an account of the capture of this friend by the germans in finland--i knew what that meant. i mourned his loss for two whole years. poor devil! how i pitied him and his fate! but the secret service is ever one of surprise and surprises. on april th, , i received a letter from the much-lamented departed, "chipping" me in great glee, adding that he had left this branch of service only a few months after i myself had retired hurt, because, to use his own words, "the war office refused to give me any honours of any kind." as would be expected, he went straight out to france, where his valour in the field immediately earned some half-dozen mentions in despatches, the d.s.o. and other decorations. knowing his bravery, skill, and marvellous work whilst abroad in the secret service, it seems unbelievable that home authorities (who apparently decorated every inmate of the whitehall offices, and even telephone girls who retained their stools whilst zepps were about!) could wilfully ignore such services as his. that this was not an exceptional case, i may add that i do not know, nor have i ever heard of, even one solitary honour or recognition being bestowed by our own government upon a soul who _actively served abroad in the foreign secret service_; although i do know of highly-coveted decorations being offered and given from abroad, which would-be recipients declined, or dare not accept, because of those above and around them. personally i doubt whether any responsible member of the british foreign secret service ever really troubled himself one iota about such trivial matters as decorations--as such. an ambition to climb to the highest rung of acknowledged service to one's country was another matter. the sporting element of discomfiting and checkmating the huns seemed to be the one thought uppermost in their minds, whilst, if any time for reflection was ever found, it was generally passed in cursing politicians at home for curtailing activities by shortage of funds, and ministers abroad for not following nelson's patriotic ophthalmic action at the battle of copenhagen. speaking for myself, i can only say that my greatest joys in life have been consummated in successful big-game shooting. my employment in the foreign secret service gave me opportunities at far bigger game than my wildest dreams had ever led me to hope for. i enjoyed to the full every minute of those activities. i would not have missed them for a king's ransom; whilst now i rest in the consolation that if my past life thitherto had been useless and of little worth to the world at large or to anyone in it, i was, during the period of my then employment, striving to accomplish a better thing than i had ever done, to help to victory the noblest cause this world has ever known. "jim." the end printed by the anchor press, ltd, tiptree, essex, england. wings over the rockies or jack ralston's new cloud chaser by ambrose newcomb author of "the sky detectives," "eagles of the sky," etc., etc. published by the goldsmith publishing co. chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright the goldsmith publishing co. made in u. s. a. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i waiting for orders ii perk grows suspicious iii the hold-up iv a chance clue v when a cog slipped vi cyclone proves game vii they are off viii birds of a feather ix the threatening crash x flying blind xi an unsolved mystery xii in the colorado canyon country xiii a stranded plane xiv jack makes a discovery xv the hand of fate xvi suzanne insists xvii the camp in the canyon xviii the vigilant guard xix over-zealous perk xx an unsubdued spirit xxi combing the mountain-tops xxii an air-mail way station xxiii perk loses his voice xxiv one chance in a thousand xxv the never-say-die spirit xxvi crater lake xxvii the end of the trail xxviii around the campfire xxix no prowlers allowed xxx bringing in their man ------------------------------------------------------------------------ wings over the rockies chapter i waiting for orders "hot ziggetty dog! i kinder guess now jack, we've been an' put the new cloud-chaser through every trick we've got up our sleeves--flopped her over on her back, righted her, to turn turtle again, done nose-dives an' immelmann turns, made a shivery sixteen thousand foot ceilin' for altitude--an' now, after all this circus stunt business, we figger she's a real ship, queen o' the air-ways." "perk, you never said truer words and i'm sure proud of the fact that our big boss up at washington appreciated that little florida job we put through last winter, so's to put us in charge of such a swell air craft." "ginger pop! we used to reckon our old crate some punkins at speedin', when _real_ flyin' was needed but shucks! with this cracker-jack boat we could make all kinds o' rings 'round the old bus or else my name ain't gabe perkiser." the young leather clad pilot at the controls, as if to still further emphasize his good opinion of the spanking, up-to-date plane they had for some days been joyfully testing out, volplaned down on a long coast just as though a merciless enemy craft were on their tail with a babbling machine-gun keeping up an intermittent fire and a hail of bullets filling the air around them. then he leveled off, attained a dizzy speed, turned, banked, and came roaring back to execute a dazzling monster figure-eight sweep. "great stuff, old hoss!" cried the exultant perk for they had their earphones adjusted so as to be able to exchange comments at will, despite any racket caused by the madly racing motor and spinning propeller combined. "i reckon that will be enough juice used up for today," jack ralston was saying in a thoroughly satisfied tone, "and now we'd better make a bee-line for our landing field. it'll be the same old story,--a gang gathering around to admire our new boat--and all trying to find out just who we are and what big air company we're connected with." thereupon perk chuckled in a queer way he had, evidently vastly amused. "we got 'em right goofy with guessin', partner, for a fact. how the curious minded boobs do try to squeeze a few grains o' information out of us with their foxy questions. i've heard some wise-cracks along them lines silly enough to make a hoss laugh an' all o' the remarks ain't jest as complimentary as i'd like, not by a long shot." "little we care," remarked jack, adjusting his goggles to a more satisfactory angle and releasing the ear flaps of his helmet. they had left the frigid altitude where they had climbed almost as though shot upward by some monster cannon, thanks to the novel wings with which the new ship was equipped. "huh! let 'em try to outsmart us," perk went on to say, a bit scornfully. "we c'n jest keep our lips buttoned tight an' mind our own business. won't be long, anyway, i guess, till we hear from headquarters an' have to jump off on some fresh stunt, roundin' up the slick crooks who keep puttin' their thumbs on their noses an' wigglin' their fingers at uncle sam's secret service boys--counterfeiters, smugglers, aliens crossing the borders, booze from out on the high seas, makers o' moonshine in the mountings and on the burnin' deserts like death valley an' such riffraff that scoffs at the law!" perk, as he was generally called by his friends, was really a world war veteran, having served aboard a "sausage" observation balloon and later on as a fighting pilot of more than average bravery and ability. he did his "daily dozen" through the whole desperate series of conflicts in the argonne with a fair number of "flaming coffins" placed to his credit--enemy ships shot down on fire. since quitting the army after the armistice put a stop to all hostilities, perk had passed through quite a number of vocations that appealed to the unrest in his blood, demanding so strenuously a calling built upon more or less continual excitement. he had been a barn-storming pilot, giving exhibitions of reckless parachute jumping from high altitudes and similar stunts at county fairs and other public gatherings and had also spent several years as a valued member of the mounted police up in the canadian northwest country. he finally was drafted into uncle sam's secret service by reason of an official having met up with him when moose hunting in the trackless wilds of northern british columbia. when jack ralston, who himself had gained a little fame in the secret service on account of generally bringing in his man, was selected to pilot a speedy ship he picked gabe perkiser whom he had known for some time and whose companionable disposition as well as unquestioned courage made him an ideal pal--in jack's eyes at least. their first assignment called for service carrying the flyers over the mexican border to apprehend a notorious character who had long been a thorn in the flesh of the washington authorities, since he came and went, mostly via the air route, crashing uncle sam's frontier gate with cargoes of undesirable aliens, usually chinese, willing to pay as much as a thousand dollars per head for an opportunity to enter the states, forbidden ground to those of their race.[ ] having, despite all difficulties, carried out their instructions to the letter and handed over their man to the nearest u. s. district attorney for prosecution, jack and perk were later on dispatched with their efficient plane to the gulf coast of florida, there to break up a powerful combination of smugglers through whose bold and lawless ventures, by air and sea, the whole southern country was being submerged in a flood of foreign brands of liquor. again the two pals proved their calibre and brought home the bacon, having dealt the rum-runners a severe jolt and actually kidnaped the chief offender.[ ] now they were daily anticipating still another assignment which, for aught they knew might carry them to the maine border or even to alaska--all sectors of our wide country look alike to energetic secret service agents especially when they have magical wings with which to annihilate space and carry them through cloudland at a hundred miles and more an hour. it looked very much as though their excellent record was being fully appreciated at headquarters for there had come to them a wonderfully equipped new ship, carrying many lately discovered and new inventions calculated to lighten the labors of the man at the controls as well as to secure a degree of safety never before attained in any craft. jack was heading for the home port, quite satisfied with the finishing check-up of the amazing attributes of their new acquisition, and as for perk, he could hardly contain himself, such was his enthusiasm in connection with their trying-out process. "beats anything that carries wings," he vowed in his characteristic fashion, "and it's bound to be a poor day for any guy who thinks he c'n get away from this race hoss o' the skies. see how she snorts on her course will you, partner, and us agoin' at mor'n a hundred an' thirty right now! this is the life for me, an' i wouldn't care much if my legs got so cramped i couldn't walk a mile--some birds are like that, i understand, buzzards f'r instance fairly wobble on the ground but able to put the kibosh on most other feathered folks when they take off in their clumsy way." jack did not show much desire to keep up the conversation--the fact of the matter was he felt more or less tired after a long day in the clouds and much preferred to pay strict attention to the many dials on the black dashboard just in front, with which he was by degrees becoming familiar. the afternoon was drawing near its close, with the sun drawing closer to the mountainous horizon off to the west. so after swinging on their way for half an hour they were able to glimpse their destination which was the cheyenne, wyoming, airport. "keep up your bluffing when we land perk, remember," warned jack as he started to circle at a height of a thousand feet and could see a number of people running this way and that, undoubtedly in their endeavor to be close by when their landing gear struck the ground. this wonderful new plane, and the mysterious pair of pals handling it had continued to excite the curiosity not only of pilots using the field, but aviation bugs who haunted the place as well. these folks were enthusiasts over the exploits of noted flyers, but not venturesome enough themselves to wish to become pilots, even though they were of the right calibre. however, they knew considerable about ships and their furniture so as to be able to appreciate anything exceedingly novel along those lines. "watch my smoke, partner," said perk complacently enough. "i'm not agoin' to let any o' that mob crab my game. men in our class don't go around doin' their stuff in the open, like they was magicians throwin' a fit. we got to know how to mix things a heap an' pull the wool over the eyes o' the crowd. so far as they need to know, we're jest a couple o' guys out for a lark an' with shekels to burn." "that's the ticket perk, keep the racket going up to the time we pull out of cheyenne no matter which way we climb. well, here goes to knock our tail on the ground again then for a bite of supper at the emporium and a look in at some show. i'm getting a bit tired of this inaction, to tell you the honest truth. i reckon both of us will be glad to get our next orders and cut loose with our nobby ship." "you said a mouthful buddy that time," observed perk as he raised his hands with the intention of removing the earphones since they were at the end of their afternoon check-up, delightfully happy because their plane had shown its exceedingly strong points. now they were circling for the last time and those below, discovering just about where they meant to land, had started on the run, apparently eager to be on hand in order to obtain a fresh close-up of the mysterious chums who had been hanging around the airport for such a length of time. never had a boat dropped down more lightly than did their craft--jack could not help giving his mate a look of overpowering joy at the slight impact, which was returned in full measure by the proud perk who anticipated wonderful things to come when they got going for fair up among the clouds or dodging through the canyons of the mighty rockies, wherever the hand of fate, and orders from headquarters, took them. so the landing was made and the wonder ship safely housed in the hangar they had hired which could be securely locked to keep curious minded or unscrupulous people from trying to get a line on its several novel features. a short but serious-looking chap came up to have a few words with jack--this was the party who had been hired especially to keep watch and ward over their highly prized aerial steed. cal stevens had been recommended as a man to be trusted and although he had no positive knowledge of their identity, he did know they were clean sportsmen and men of their word. consequently jack felt the precious ship given into their charge by the government would be carefully guarded throughout each night. they left the field with several figures trailing after them for the mystery hovering over their movements had piqued the curiosity of a number of men. all manner of queer stories, resting on insecure foundations, had been rumored so that people pointed them out in the street and some wise-acres even gained considerable notoriety by pretending to know it all, though under a pledge to keep their secret inviolate. it became even necessary to resort to expedients in order to shake these snoopers as the indignant perk called them and usually a vehicle of some sort offered them an easy way to beat out the clan. on this particular evening, however, a big car occupied by several men whom they did not remember having noticed before, kept after their own vehicle up to the very door of the modest house in which they had a room. "i say it's a danged shame," stormed the angry perk as the two of them started to strip and get into ordinary citizen's clothing so they would not attract unpleasant attention while eating their supper and attending the movies later on--"that pesky car kept on our tail right up to the door an' chances are it's parked somewhere out there right now, awaitin' for us to hike over to the emporium restaurant. riles me for fair, partner, an' for two cents i'd like to stand them hoboes on their heads, on'y i guess that'd be fool's play for me." "it certainly would, perk," his chum assured him as they dressed. "men in the detective line never want to draw attention to themselves for once it's known what calling they're engaged in and a lot of their value to their employers is lost. that's just why the detectives in big cities like new york wear masks when suspects are lined up each morning for inspection. you know that, of course, perk, but i'm just reminding you because if you get all 'het up' you might say or do something that would spill the beans for us." "i'll cool down right away, jack old hoss," the other assured him contritely. "that's my greatest weakness you know, an' i'm countin' on my best pal to keep a finger on my pulse so's to check me up when i threaten to run loose with my too ready tongue. wait a minute, jack, till i get a paper so i c'n read up on the dope as i munch my feed. i'm wanting to learn whether anything's been heard from our mutual friend, buddy warner, the best air mail pilot on the job today." "i certainly hope he's turned up since we jumped off this morning," said jack with more than his customary earnestness. "there must be a dozen or two ships scouring the country in search of buddy." this pilot had never reached his port of call two days back and is believed to be down somewhere in that wild country among the big hills and canyons, either dead or badly hurt and needing a helping hand right away. perk gave a hurried glance at the scare-heads on the front page of the newspaper he had purchased and then grunted dismally. "nothin' doin' so far, partner," he announced with a sigh that welled up from the very depths of his warm, friendly heart. "more ships a'startin' out from every-which-way. a happenin' like this, when the lost guy chances to be a friendly dick that everybody likes, seems to arouse that sportsman spirit that you find in all air pilot circles. it gets to be a reg'lar _fever_, with even famous flyers givin' up vacations they'd been lookin' forward to for weeks, just to start out an' try to locate the lost man. huh! nothin'd tickle me more than a chance to lend a hand myself, on'y we're in the government's employ and can no more quit our job than air mail lads could throw the letter sacks in the discard and sail around peekin' into every gulch an' hidin' place in the mountains in hopes o' bein' the lucky guy to fetch buddy back." "i'm mighty sorry nothing's been found out," said jack, "but the boys are sure to comb every rod of ground again and again until it's certain he can't be located. but here's our restaurant perk, so let's drop in and dine." ----- footnote : see the first volume of this series, "_the sky detectives_." footnote : see the preceding story entitled, "_eagles of the sky_." ii perk grows suspicious "i swan if it don't beat all creation what stuff these newspaper boys do turn out when they're put on the job o' pickin' up sensational news," perk was saying some time later as both he and his companion were satisfying their hunger with such viands as appealed to their taste upon the bill of fare. "what ails you now, comrade?" asked jack, smilingly for he always found the strongly expressed likes and dislikes of his chum a never failing well of interest that frequently brought out one of his seldom used chuckles. "why, seems like they never let a chance get past to fetch lindbergh into the picture, no matter if he's three thousand miles off as the crow flies. here one account tells that it's '_reported_ our distinguished air pilot's set out to lend a hand at findin' poor buddy warner,' who, the story goes, 'used to be a blanket pal o' lindbergh's away back in them balmy days when charles jumped with his little chute at county fairs an' did the barn-stormin' racket. not that he wouldn't be on the job if on'y he didn't happen to be away off around new york right now, up to his eyes in business connected with the new air line he's at the head of. course lots o' good folks'll swallow this story without a question but it's jest a sample o' wild newspaper stuff--no man c'n be on the atlantic coast an' out here in the rockies at the same time. gosh! but they do pull the wool over some people's eyes these days--anything for a sensation an' to get the jump over the other cub reporters." "but perk, we do happen to know that there are quite a number of noted pilots out scouring the entire region and sticking to their job like leeches, under their sporting slogan 'do as you'd be done by'." "sure thing, partner--that's legitimate news and not faked," agreed the other with a grunt as he speared a small boiled onion of which he was very fond, and thrust it into his mouth. "lindbergh is a wonder, as we all know, but there's a limit to his activities and it ain't fair to want him to take hold o' everything that comes along. now he's doubled up and took him a wife. they reckon nothin' c'n be carried through without his name bein' tacked on somehow or other. 'taint fair to that boy, an' them's my sentiments." jack shook his head and looked serious. "then the mystery is as deep as ever and they haven't yet found out what happened to poor buddy?" he asked, to which perk shook his head in the negative, saying: "never a thing--all wrapped up in a black fog--he started off in high spirits and with a joke on his lips an' then disappeared like he never was. hang it all, why couldn't i have been doin' some other sorter job where they might 'a' let me off for a spell? nothin' i'd like better than to comb the hull countryside in hopes o' findin' that bully boy--he told me once 'bout that mother o' his'n. i kinder guess she must be a peach, he thought so much o' her. lands sake! but it might even kill her if her boy ain't never heard from again. i'd give every dollar i got in the wide world--which ain't boastin' none i know--if only i was a free agent an' goin' on my own hook." "hard luck, partner," soothed jack, laying a hand on the arm of his pal as if to sympathize with the impulsive one; "but of course that's out of the question, you and me--we're under a contract that can't be broken recklessly, no matter what happens and we've just _got_ to keep everlastingly on the job till our time is up when we can either renew or get out." "i guess you got it down pat, jack," agreed the other with a heavy sigh that told of his regret being genuine. perk was one of those queer chaps who are born with a stubborn itch to find _anything_ that is said to be lost which would account in part for his having thrown in his fortunes with both the northwest mounted police and now the united states secret service. "besides, there was a sort of intimation in that late letter from the big boss," jack went on to say, "that seemed to hint at something big coming our way before very long so all we can do is to keep hoping for some luck and doing our daily stunt flying so as to learn all the wrinkles connected with our new cloud-chaser as you like to call the ship we're attached to right now." "why do you keep on turning your head a little while you're eating i'd like to know, perk--got to seeing things again, like you did once before, i remember?" continued jack. "huh! i'm jest takin' a peep in that mirror over there partner," replied perk in a low tone that had a slight air of mystery about it, jack imagined. "pretty girl this time struck you where your heart is soft, eh, buddy?" jack inquired with a chuckle. "not this time old hoss--take a squint yourself--see them two fellers sittin' at the corner table, where they c'n watch us?--well, seems like they take a heap o' pleasure keepin' tabs on us while we sit here and gobble. i'm wonderin' who and what they are also why they bother to keep an eye on our actions right along." "yes, i can see them out of the tail of my eye," jack told him. "don't you remember the pair in the big touring car that kept ducking after us?--i reckon these boys are that same couple. did you notice them sitting there when we came in?" "nothin' doin' that way, boss," perk told him with a positive ring to his voice. "i chanced to turn my head a few minutes after we got settled down, an' they were walkin' over to that corner like they'd sized up the table as if it suited their plans. ever since, they've kept talkin' in low tones, an' watchin' us like i've seen a fox do, hidin' in the brush an' waitin' for a fat young partridge to come close enough for him to make a spring and grab his dinner." jack refused to become flustered, even if perk showed signs of being annoyed. "oh!" he went on to remark casually, "chances are they may be some of those pests of newspaper boys, scenting a scoop of a story for their sensation loving sheets--competition is so keen these days they lie awake nights i'm told, and accept all sorts of chances of being kicked out if only they can get the right sort of stuff to build up into a thriller." "mebbe so, mebbe so," grumbled the indignant perk, "but anyhow i don't like it a bit. that dark-faced guy strikes me as a pretty tough sort o' scrapper, one i'd hate to smack up against in a dark alley an' the other ain't much shakes as a good-looker either. jack, do you think they know who we are and got some sort o' grudge against us on 'count o' the trade we foller, eh, what?" "oh! it might be so," replied the other, "anything is possible and while we've been lucky enough to hide our light under a bushel all the time we've hung around the cheyenne airport, we couldn't expect to keep that game up indefinitely, you understand. after all, we hope to be pulling our freight and slipping out of this burg before long. so we'll just keep our eyes open for stormy weather and be on our guard." "hot ziggetty dog! i sure do hope now they ain't meanin' to bust in on our fine ship an' play hob with her--wouldn't that jar you though, partner?" and perk could be seen to grind those big white teeth of his as if gripped by a spasm of rage almost beyond his control. like the arab whose love for his horse is said to exceed any affection for his wife, most sky pilots feel an overpowering regard for their ship in which they risk their lives every time they jump off and perk was peculiarly built that way. "that would be a calamity for a fact," admitted jack, giving the two men under suspicion another little survey, "but we've got a good guard keeping tabs over the boat and he's empowered to shoot if some one tries any funny business out at the hangar, so i reckon there's nothing to worry over in that direction." perk continued to grumble, half beneath his breath, showing how he felt under the skin about the matter. jack on his part skillfully directed the low conversation into other and more cheerful channels so that presently, after the two strangers had passed out of the restaurant, perk seemed to put them aside as "false alarms" and entered into the discussion of the merits of their beloved cloud-chaser with a modicum of his usual good nature which was just what his chum wished to have happen, so as to clear the atmosphere, which, in perk's case was getting considerably muddy. iii the hold-up jack had certainly shown considerable cunning in starting to talk about some of the clever and novel devices with which their new ship was equipped in order to turn the attention of his chum into more pleasant channels for perk soon became most eloquent in speaking of those wonderful discoveries. "it sure is a great stunt, us bein' able to quit the ground in ten shakes o' a lamb's tail," he was speedily remarking, "'stead of havin' to take such a long an' often bumpy run. the way that boat acts under your pilotin' makes me think o' how a clumsy buzzard when scared, gives a hop up into the air for a few feet, starts them big wings o' his'n workin' and goes hoppetty-skip-petty off on an upward slant. seems like the next thing we know we'll have some sorter contraption that'll jest give us a toss, like you'd fling a pigeon up, for a gunner to smack after it'd started to fly out o' bounds." "i understand," jack told him, smoothly enough, "they've got something mighty near as wonderful as that, only it lacks just a little finishing touch to make it sure pop. five years from now the boys who've come through with their lives will be looking back to _our_ day as being still in the woods, and us pilots rough neck amateurs--such staggering things will be the regular line by then." "jest see how the've changed a heap o' the instruments we used to swear by in them days o' the big war over in france, eh jack? you don't see so much difference, but us boys who were in that scrap sometimes c'n hardly believe it's the same aviation world we're livin' in. from compass to pontoons, a dozen or two things have been vastly improved. look at the new ship; we got aluminum pontoons to let us light on the water of a river, lake or the sea itself and with the wheels set in the shoes so as to make a landin' on dry land whenever we feel like it." "pretty slick trick that, i own up, buddy," admitted jack, "and best of all they seem to work like magic in the bargain. and of course we still go under the same old name of _amphibian_, for we can drop down anywhere with only a fair-sized opening." "too bad they didn't give the fine boat a name--havin' only a number gives it a sorter orphan look, strikes me," continued perk, thus voicing an old grievance that thus far he had kept to himself. "i knew that bone was bothering you some, partner," jack told him, "and now you've mentioned it we might as well have it out. names are all very fine for ordinary airships because there's every reason for giving them publicity, which helps business along; but in our case that's exactly what we want to avoid like a sick tooth. get that now, brother, do you?" "huh! i flop, partner--queer how i didn't think o' that before you mentioned it jest now. some day mebbe i'll be workin' in a line that don't have to keep things shady all the time--gettin' my fill o' sneakin' an' snoopin' so's to pull in results." "here's wishing you luck, boy," jack was saying with a vein of seriousness in his voice, "but see here what's bearing down on us like a ship under full sail?--he must have been out of sight behind that partition all the time we've sat here--got a wide grin on his sunburned face, which looks kind of familiar to me. know him, perk?" "zowie! i'd jest say i do partner, don't you see, it's my old friend cyclone davis, the cowboy we've seen more'n once doin' his stunts on the screen. hey there, cyclone, where'd you pop up from, old pard?" perk in evident excitement had jumped up from his chair and with outstretched hand met the oncoming grinning range rider with tumultuous joy, slapping him on the back, wringing his hand furiously and giving a most energetic display of delight at the unexpected meeting. "sit down here an' have a little chin, cyclone--meet my side partner, jack ralston. got to walk back to our room with us so's to tell how you happened to break into the movies an' make such a big hit. glory! didn't it bring back old times when i saw you prancin' around, knocking some big guy on his back like you used to do when in the prize ring as a comin' welterweight champion. now, start doin' your stuff, old pard." innumerable questions from the excited perk brought out more or less interesting information for cyclone proved to be quite a good talker. they managed to keep their voices lowered, although it could be plainly seen jud davis was as a rule built along the jolly and noisy type of optimistic chap, such as make hosts of friends wherever they roam; but he seemed to sense the fact that the two in whose company he now found himself wished to keep strangers from overhearing the subject of their confab and thus toned down his effusiveness accordingly. that was a subject jack kept constantly in mind--the avoidance of anything calculated to put the spot-light of public attention on his doings--he would have been broken hearted if some morning, after having played a big game to a successful conclusion, with his man safely lodged behind the bars, to see on the front page of the daily papers a picture of himself, no matter how poorly executed and thus holding a member of the government secret service up for every lawbreaker in the wide land to stamp on his mind as something to be never forgotten and thus greatly lessen his capacity for efficient work. "we're jest about through here, old hoss," perk finally told the other "an' you jest got to fall in so's to sit with us a while in our room so we c'n tell you what we're a'doin' as boon pals. i know right well it'll never go any further, 'cause you happen to be one o' them fellers what c'n button their lips tight as a clam, with never a single leak." "that's all right, perk," came the other's reassuring answer, "i've got a few hours more to spend in cheyenne and then i'm heading direct for the old motion picture studios at hollywood to do a few easy stunts in a new picture they're going to build up--i'm a cow puncher again, you understand, perk, though i own up now and then my old fighting profession comes in pretty well when there's some scrapping taking place between the cowboy mob and the cattle rustlers or mex outlaws of the border." perk listened to everything the other said with an enraptured expression upon his face, he doubtless was able to mentally picture some of those exciting episodes described by cyclone and felt an itch to be in similar hand-to-hand battles where real blows were exchanged in order to make the scene realistic when depicted on the silver screen. jack could hear him giving many a full-sized sigh when cyclone was running off some of his many adventures with a vein of real humor back of his provocative words and from this could readily believe his chum was having the time of his life. after a while they all arose, and paying their reckoning at the desk, the proprietor eyed the trio as though he rather suspected they must be tom mix and some of his movie friends off on a holiday jaunt--possibly there must have been a certain jaunty air about cyclone's manner that stamped him as belonging to those who moved out on location and cut all manner of amazing capers before the camera. it proved to be pretty dark on the street with few persons abroad, although the hour was not late. the neighborhood happened to be a bit lonely, jack noticed as they walked along three abreast, cyclone continuing a recital of some comical as well as near tragic happening through which he had lately passed. they would not have very far to go to reach their destination which had been one of the reasons for jack selecting the emporium as their dining place its convenience appealing to him more than anything else. at a certain point where the gloom was somewhat more dense than in other localities, jack noticed a motor standing close to the curb and with one of its rear doors standing open. the engine was running, for its steady throb could be plainly heard. but then such a thing is no uncommon occurrence when some busy folks have trouble in starting the engine and prefer to leave it running while they dash into the house for a minute or so. just as they came opposite, he noted that it was a large touring car but the significance of this was borne in upon jack's mind with a rush when two dark figures suddenly sprang out from behind the waiting motor, and with outstretched hands confronted himself and companions while a deep bass voice snapped out the words: "put 'em up, and be snappy about it too, boys!" iv a chance clue it was a holdup pure and simple, appearances would indicate. jack could see in the uncertain light that each of the men gripped a gat in his fingers, covering the astonished trio; he also made out that they had handkerchiefs covering the lower portions of their faces, which made it all the more interesting, since nothing was lacking to fix the picture in the mind as worthy of the latest movie thriller. jack apparently started to raise both hands in obedience to the order so brusquely given but with an incredibly speedy move he suddenly threw out his fight hand and caught the wrist of the nearest holdup man, giving it a twist that compelled the bandit to let his gun fall to the ground. then there was cyclone, true to form as his nick-name would indicate, making a lightning play and leaping on the second bandit with the agility of a canada lynx pouncing on a bounding rabbit. this fellow, taken off his guard it seemed, managed to shoot but the bullet went wild and before he could recover enough to do any damage he was being whirled this way and that in the dazzling fashion shown by the cowboy actor in all his pictures and which had gained him his well earned fame. poor perk, who was left in the lurch, there being no third party in sight whom he could tackle, hardly knew what to do--he kept jumping from one whirlagig to the other, endeavoring to get in a swing with his fist but with rather meager success for he feared to exert himself to the utmost since there was danger of the blow coming in contact with a friendly head instead of the one he meant to strike. jack had knocked his man down twice by well directed blows but each time the rascal climbed to his feet again, being no mean hand it seemed at a scrimmage. he must have been built along the bulldog line more or less, for even while taking a lot of punishment he still stuck to his guns. the third time he managed to close in and again they went spinning round and round, held fast in each others' arms, breathing hard, and endeavoring to effect a windup of the struggle. perhaps the would-be holdup man may have begun to suspect that the pistol-shot would likely enough bring some one running to the spot--even a cop who may have been on duty not far away, at any rate he began to fight most desperately to break loose, thinking that discretion would be the better part of valor and that "he who fights and runs away, may live to fight another day," as the old saying has it. at first, somewhat to jack's astonishment, he realized the man was trying with might and main to force him toward the open door of the touring car as though it may have been his intention to take him "for a ride." that significant phrase had become so notorious of late, in accounts of rival gang fights in the big cities of the east, that jack really began to believe these men aimed to carry him off in their touring car to do something terrible when outside the city limits and then toss him out on the side of the road as a victim to some unknown species of hatred and revenge. of course there was no time just then to try and analyze this strange supposition for all his energies must be engaged in endeavoring to down the unknown who was just then locked in his arms. cyclone was having a beautiful time, giving his man a full measure of the stuff that lay in those steel muscles of his and which had doped out many a case of k.o. when he was in the prize ring. indeed the fellow was so confused and befuddled by the cracks he received on his head and chest that he put up only a puny defense. it proved to be such a one-sided affair that cyclone felt ashamed to keep doing all the hitting and presently lifting the almost senseless wretch he actually tossed him into the car with a crash. this seemed to give jack's opponent a flash of commonsense for he burst out of the encircling arms and dove after his pal, jack having no desire to follow after and try to drag him out again, since as a rule he was far from being a hog for punishment. the man lost not a second in starting his machine which went off down the dimly lighted street like a crazy thing, zigzagging from curb to curb, just as jack remembered seeing shown in comics on the screen. there was disconsolate perk, looking as provoked as any one could be, shaking his head, and punching one fist into the other palm. "such rotten luck!" he was moaning as he strode around the late battlefield. "every feller had his hand in but poor me; what've i done to be cheated out o' my share like i was a baby? why, oh! why wasn't there three bums in the bunch, just enough to go around; dang 'em, why did they want to crab my game like that?" jack who could keep from bursting into a loud laugh only through severe measures along the line of repression, managed to soothe the unhappy perk by judicious words of sympathy. "if only i'd known you wanted a little exercise so much partner," he observed without the flicker of a smile, "why, i'd have tossed him over to you with pleasure. then cyclone here should have slipped you his bird while he was jumping him around at such a great rate. however, it's past now, and the damage can't be mended. next opening that comes along, brother, i solemnly promise to let you try your hand so it won't get out of practice." "that's a bargain, jack old hoss," perk hastened to say as if anxious to make it a compact between them, "an' i won't say what'll be on the cards when i try an' make up for all the times i've been cheated o' my share o' the gate receipts. now, what next i wonder?" "we'll just trot along home and see if there are any hurts needing attention," replied jack. "that one i tackled could squeeze like a bear but my being able with a hand free to swat him several times in the jowl, made him ease up more or less until in the end he weakened and went skidoo. come along fellows, let's be hiking into the next street where we put up and get our sleep." everybody seemed quite willing to call it the close of a perfect day and let things go at that--the holdup men had long since vanished from view; there was more or less danger of a prowling cop having heard that sound of firing and after summoning help, might be on the way to learn the cause. not wishing to be mixed up in anything that might hold them in cheyenne for days awaiting a police court trial, jack had plenty of good reasons for wanting to depart while the going was good. so they trotted along, arm in arm. in good order they reached the private house where the two flyers slept and soon were sitting in the most comfortable fashion possible in the apartment. perk had carefully closed and locked the door, something jack could not remember him doing all the time they had been housed under that hospitable roof which showed how wrought up perk must have become. "an' i'm still a'wonderin' what their silly game could a been," he was saying in a whining tone accompanied with another shake of his head. "none o' us look a bit like bloated plutocrats, 'less it might be cyclone here but seems like that tall lad was a'tryin' to shove you into his blamed old car, jack like they wanted to kidnap you--noticed that didn't you?" "well it struck me that way too, perk," he was told unhesitatingly, "which has me guessing good and hard; what reason could they have for wanting to knock me out of the running--taking me for a ride that way?" "shucks! partner," commented perk immediately, "they be a'plenty o' guys who'd laugh to know you an' me'd kicked the bucket, pe'ticularly you, jack. some o' them lads you've sent up to the pen might have pals at large who'd be ready to make you cash in for playin' them a trick that cost 'em their liberty. revenge i kinder guess is a poisonous weed that takes a quick rooting in the average prison bird's heart--sorter helps to make him better able to bear the years he's got to serve. if on'y he could know the man as sent him into quod had been rapped on the head and kicked out o' a speedin' car." "that makes me think of something," jack remarked just then as he rammed a hand down into one of his coat pockets and drew a yellow piece of paper out. "i chanced to see this lying on the pavement after our birds had taken french leave; it may help us to understand what now looks like a dark mystery beyond our solving." he glanced at what turned out to be a much handled telegraph sheet with typewriting on one side. perk showed sudden interest when he saw how his partner seemed startled and uttered as exclamation indicative of pleasure. v when a cog slipped "what's up, partner?" demanded perk who always admitted to being more or less curious-minded. "something i happened to pick up," replied jack, grinning happily, "after that chap dived into his car and tore off down the street like a house afire." "huh! strikes me it looks kinder like a telegraph message buddy," perk replied eagerly as if he began to smell something like a fire burning. "go up head boy, you said it," his mate told him. "here, read what it says for yourself--you too, cyclone, though it'll be greek to you since you don't happen to know the gent who sent it to cheyenne." perk glued his eager eyes to the yellow slip of paper and as he took in the printed words he held his breath--as if unable to fully grasp the whole meaning of the message with only one reading, he started again, this time going over it aloud. "adolph barkus, evergreen street, "cheyenne, wyoming. "have received positive information they are in your city. pay particular attention to the young flyer. treat him with brotherly kindness and to please me take him for a nice, long ride. keep me posted. things down here in something of a snarl. better drop in and report. i may need you the worst way. "kearns." "hot ziggetty dog! what d'ye think o' that measly rum-runner bobbin' up like a floatin' cork to annoy us again?" perk gave all the signs of annoyance--he clenched his fist, frowned most horribly and drew a long breath as though his feelings threatened to overwhelm him entirely. "oh! we landed that gent behind the bars all right," jack remarked, taking things much more coolly than the excitable one, "but it's hard to keep a man with a big wad of long-green shut up--he hires a celebrated lawyer, gets out on heavy bail, has his case postponed on one account or another until witnesses disappear and the public forgets what it's all about. like as not he's as free as either of us, only it may be he's forbidden to leave the state of florida pending his trial--you notice the message was dispatched from jacksonville." "from his getting on our track i kinder guess the gent must feel a bit peeved at the firm o' ralston an' perkiser. brotherly kindness, eh?--take him for a nice long ride--how swell that'd be--an' all jest to please mr. oswald kearns, the high light o' most o' the schemes hatched up to run in case goods from bimimi along the florida shore." then perk forgot his indignation long enough to grin as though the humorous side of the case struck him. "such great luck i never did see," he burst out, "to think o' you pickin' up his telegram so pat after we'd kicked him an' his slinkin' pal off the lot. that's what i'd call incriminatin' evidence, partner and if ever the case is called an' we're sent down to florida to tell 'bout our part o' the mess, this message ought to make the jury sit up an' take notice, sure as i'm born it ought" "i'll keep it safe, you can well believe, perk and i'm not bothering my head about those two sneaks for they're not apt to give us any further trouble after what happened to them tonight. when this mr. barkus discovers how he must have dropped his fine telegram, he'll suspect it fell into our hands and the chances are he'll give us a wide berth the rest of our stay in this burg." "jest so jack, an' let's hope we're goin' to climb out o' here right soon now. the dirty scoundrels--wantin' to give you a _ride_, was they? which means in these days take a feller off into the country, knock him on the head an' dump him out on the road like he was a log. zowie! times is out o' joint strikes me, when these pesky gangs think nothin' o' murderin' a man 'cause they don't like the color o' his necktie." cyclone had listened to this exchange of conversation between his two companions and the look on his face plainly told that he could not grasp what it was all about. "i'd like to get a grip on what all this clatter's about, boys, if neither of you object. i ought to be starting back to hollywood in the morning for they're shouting and sending hot wires telling me i'm holding up the show; but since i'm crazy to see that boat of yours, and you promised me a little gallop up among the clouds, i'm bound to wait over till afternoon, no matter what happens to the bunch on the coast--they c'n use my understudy till i choose to lope along and be hanged to 'em. now, what about putting me wise to the game that was sprung on you tonight?" "nothing to hinder our telling you what we ran up against down in florida last winter," remarked jack and as they settled back in their chairs in comfort he explained all about the mixup as recorded in the previous volume of this series. cyclone proved an attentive listener, eagerly drinking in the particulars--nodding his head approvingly at certain points that appealed especially to his discriminating mind until the finishing stroke had been laid bare when he jumped up to shake hands boisterously with both jack and perk and to give vent to his feelings in words. "by the great horn spoon! so that's the bully sort of life you fellers in the secret service lead, is it?" he exclaimed with flashing eyes and an expression of eagerness on his enraptured face. "some fine day, after i've had a few words with my director and told him where he gets off, i'll be hanged if i don't strike out for washington and try to bore my way into the game you're following--suits my spirit to the dot--lots of adventure, fair pay and the thrill of turning back these smart alecs who think they own the world because they've got a speed boat and the jack to buy a load of hard stuff in the bahamas that they figure on landing along our coast." "that mightn't be such a bad idea, cyclone, for a man built like you and who yearns for excitement," observed jack sympathetically, for he could understand just how the other must feel. "when you get to that point of kicking over the traces in the picture game let me know and perhaps i can speak a good word for you at headquarters. they're always in need of the right sort of men. remember that, will you, cyclone?" "you bet i will jack, and i mean every word i say, too. i've never gone up in an airship yet, but the desire's been gripping me a heap lately and perhaps, after i make the try tomorrow morning, that you've so kindly promised me, the fever'll get so high i just won't be able to hold back any longer." "that depends on how you come through your examination," jack plainly explained. "a lot of boys have an itch to make the riffle, but are turned down because they lack some one of a dozen requirements that are positively essential these modern days to get a pilot's license. but as far as i can see, you ought to pass with flying colors--no joke intended either." they sat there chatting for several hours. cyclone's enthusiasm fairly bubbled over at times as he listened to some of the accounts of adventures that had befallen both jack and perk in days gone by. "the more i hear from you boys the sicker i get over the way i'm wasting my young life with foolish cowboy stunts and make believe fights in the pictures. it's pretty much a fake business and gets on my nerves--even many of the most thrilling scenes are fakes of the worst kind--pulling the wool over the eyes of the simple public. i got a notion i'm built for something that's genuine and not a fraud--when you lads get into a mess it's the real thing and you can put your heart in the action without a director yelling at you and ordering it all done over--sometimes as many as five times, till his royal highness is satisfied and you're all worn to a shred with the hard work. bah! me for the open and a life of genuine adventure, every time." "je-ru-salem crickets! but you have got it bad, partner!" croaked perk grinning happily as he spoke. "goin' are you, cyclone?--well, we'll pick you up about nine on the way to the flyin' field. so-long--mighty glad we run across you tonight and had a chance to see how you work, them fists o' yourn. the service could make good use o' a few real scrappers and i'd say the chance o' you buttin' in is gilt-edged." so closed a day that was not without its redeeming features, even perk being satisfied that things were moving along the line of adventure and excitement. vi cyclone proves game in the morning after they had partaken of a late breakfast, jack and his pal stepped around the corner to get a taxi, pick up cyclone as per arrangement and proceed out to the flying field. "for one thing," perk was remarking as they stepped gaily along, "we ain't noticed any sign o' them gringoes we licked so neat last night. guess they had their little tummies filled up with excitement and right now may be rubbin' arnica on their hurts. wow! but i'd hate to've got them socks cyclone passed on to his party--must have near broke his nose for i saw his face was gettin' fair bloody when he was snatched up and tossed into the car." they found the ex-fighter and cow puncher waiting anxiously for them, he having been abroad early and had his customary morning meal. later on they arrived at the landing field and found everything "okay" as perk put it. he had confessed to a little anxiety concerning the safety of their ship but the man they had hired to stand guard had not seen or heard anything suspicious during the entire night. "huh! guess they feel too blamed sore this mornin' to be up an' around," was the sensible conclusion arrived at by perk after his fears had been dissipated and in this summing up of the conditions he was seconded by jack, likewise their mutual friend, cyclone davis. it was jack's custom to always have his ship in condition for an immediate flight--there could be no telling how soon an order might reach them giving directions for a hasty takeoff with their goal any old place as perk was accustomed to remarking off-hand. consequently there was always a full tank of gas on board together with plenty of lubricating oil and all manner of essential things so necessary to a successful flight. of course, as a rule they could drop down at some wayside landing field for the purpose of replenishing their stores since the whole country was becoming dotted with such necessary places, some of them gorgeously fitted up with everything in the way of landing lights, extra hangars for visiting ships and even service plants for supplying gasoline with little effort. cyclone displayed no actual concern as he was secured in his seat by a stout leather strap, having also had the parachute harness fastened to his back. he watched every move of his two experienced companions with eagerness and asked not a few pertinent questions, thus showing his desire to know all there was connected with the flying game. then the pilot gave her the gun and they started to move along with constantly accelerated speed until presently jack lifted his charge and they no longer found themselves in contact with the earth but mounting toward the blue sky overhead. up, up they climbed with great spirals marking their course--the earth below began to lose its individual proportions and looked like an immense checkerboard to the thrilled cowpuncher. cyclone could be seen twisting his head this way and that, eager to see everything. perk, noting this, nodded his head as though feeling positive the other was going to fall in love with flying. dashing across the plains on a cow pony, pursued by made-up indians and all that regular sort of stuff must seem mighty tame to him after moving through the air at the rate of possibly a hundred and fifty miles an hour with the motor and propeller keeping up a constant roaring sound and all with the consciousness that he was several miles above the earth, amidst floating fleecy clouds, with even the high-flying eagle far, far beneath. jack took special pains to give the ambitious comrade such a ride as he could never have imagined, even in his wildest dreams--he put the new boat through all manner of ordinary stunts, even turning over so that they kept going ahead at a fair pace while flying upside-down--he went through dizzy revolutions, banked sharply and carried on generally as skillful pilots seem to take great delight in doing. all this never seemed to bother cyclone a particle--perhaps his experience as a cowboy may have assisted him to meet the numerous thrills without quailing. of course he could not talk with either of his friends for hearing was next to impossible since jack was not making use of the silencer that had been made a part of the "furniture" of the new ship--but he nodded his head joyfully whenever he found perk watching him with a question in his eye. the two pilots had their head-phones in position, for they would no doubt like to hold communication from time to time. thus it happened that jack, chancing to think of something, addressed his chum. "forgot to ask you whether they'd learned anything about our lost friend, buddy warner--how about it, perk?" the other mechanically shook his head in the negative. "nothing doin' along them lines, sorry to say partner," he explained. "to be sure there was a'plenty o' rumors, but the paper said nobody had learned a blamed thing that'd stand the wash. afraid buddy's gone under an' that the on'y thing left to do is to come across his crashed boat in some canyon off there in the rockies. tough, all right, but then us flyers jest got to look at sech mishaps as all in the line o' duty--it's like bein' a soldier all over again, ready to start out mornin's without a ghost o' an idee we'll be back to eat another meal or write a last letter home." "i'm mighty sorry to hear that, perk. buddy was a fine boy and everybody liked him. that old mother of his, too, it may be the death of her. hurts to feel that no matter how many pilots may be scouring the land they just can't seem to dig up even a little clue to tell where he dropped out of sight and never was heard from again--not even a flower could be dropped on his grave if they wanted to." jack had taken a wild ride through cloudland, going something like two hundred miles and then swinging around to make the return trip after that he had climbed to a ceiling of something like twenty thousand feet until they were all shivering with the frigid air. still cyclone never flinched--indeed, he did not even display the slightest inclination to beg jack to drop down where it was warmer--in fact he showed all the signs of one who would eventually make an exceptionally good flyer, could he but pass his examination successfully. it was close to high noon when they landed after the most thrilling morning in all cyclone's checkered life. before he said goodbye to his two pals he squeezed their hands, and with a face illumined said in his determined way: "me for a pilot's license, boys and when i've done my fifty hours of solo flying and get my papers, behold me making a bee-line for washington and breaking into uncle sam's secret service corps. i'm a fade-out as a movie actor, and i feel that my star of destiny calls on me to be a cloud chaser, getting after law breakers in the air across the land from the atlantic seaboard to the gold coast; ditto on the sea to the ends of the earth. wish me luck, fellows and here's hoping that some day we'll all be pals in a great game. if ever you get to los angeles drop in and see me at hollywood--if i'm still on deck and doing my little stunts rescuing fair maidens and beating the villains black and blue--all in your eye, boys." they were sorry to see him go, for cyclone had turned out to be a most enjoyable companion as jack told perk more than a few times. since the morning flight had covered so much in the way of stunt flying, speed testing and altitude climbing, jack decided there was hardly any necessity for their going out again in the afternoon. so they figured on taking things comfortably in their room, catching up with their sadly neglected correspondence, and even getting in a nap or two while waiting for their usual supper hour to come along. the sun was well down in the western heavens when a knock on their door caused jack to answer it. perk could hear him speaking to the lady from whom they hired the room, then jack came back examining a yellow bit of paper, meanwhile giving perk a peculiar look that somehow caused the other to jump up excitedly and exclaim: "hot ziggetty dog! that strikes me like a wire, partner, tell me, has our order to strike out and get busy come along--gee whiz! i'm trembling all over with eagerness to know what our next line's goin' to be!" vii they are off! jack lost no time in answering the pleading look in perk's eyes. "order's come at last, brother and we're due to skip out of this burg just as soon as we can get a bite to eat." "where to, jack--north, east, south or west?" babbled the pleased perk. "looks like it might be the last you named," he was told. "and if it ain't a dead secret would you mind tellin' me what sort of a jaunt we're pushed on to this time--is it to be a hunt, partner?" "i'd say it was, and with a vengeance too," admitted jack, still holding his chum over imaginary hot coals in that he declined to hasten with the information so urgently desired. "so that's all settled, hey? and what are we supposed to be huntin', if it's just the same to you to cough up that necessary information--more rum-chasers--bogus money-makers--check raisers, mebbe--runaway cashier with all the bank funds--which is it buddy?" "never came within a mile of the right answer," jack assured him with one of his puzzling smiles. "fact is, it's a pilot we're ordered to fetch in." "pilot--say, do we have to shoot out to sea after a steamship that's carried off its harbor pilot--such rotten luck, when we expected something real big to take up our time and labor--shucks!" "wait, you jump at conclusions all too soon, perk my boy. there happen to be several other kinds of pilots besides those who fetch ocean steamships in and out of new york harbor or the golden gate at san francisco--for instance those on river steamboats, it might be, or those of airplanes!" "airships did you say, jack?" roared perk, his eyes widening while he clutched the hand that held the telegram as though tempted to try and read the printed words he could just manage to see upon the sheet. "yes, air-mail pilot in the bargain," jack fired at him. "hot ziggetty dog! do you mean a _missing_ mail pilot and his name is----" "buddy warner--that's right perk, no other." the most ecstatic expression imaginable crossed the face of the amiable perk to proclaim better than any words could ever tell just what he thought of the great news he had just heard. "i'm _so_ glad, partner--nobody could've fetched me better news than what you're telling me right now. if i was asked what i'd like best to do--jest what line o' work i'd be crazy to handle, i'd say it was to take a look in at every pesky canyon and sinkhole along the mountain ranges in hopes o' findin' that fine lad an' fetch him back home to his old mammy. and now you're givin' me my best wish right off the bat. go on an' tell me what it says, that wire they sent you." "that we are to drop anything and everything else and start out to help find buddy warner; they must think a heap of that mail pilot for our boss to issue such a broad order as that. it means we've got to jump off before night sets in and head for the western town where he was last seen. it also means we'll be on the job for days, or anyway until we get orders it's no use combing the gullies and ravines and canyons any longer for the missing pilot must be dead." "can't strike off any too soon to please me, jack. i'd even go without any grub if by saving an hour we could have a better chance o' strikin' pay dirt an' turnin' him up alive." "no such desperate hurry as all that," the other assured him to put a quietus on his nervous desire to be winging their way toward the scene of all the excitement and thus add one more ship to the flotilla already seeking information concerning the whereabouts of the missing mail pilot. "also, perk, as nobody knows when we may get another chance to eat, it would be wise for us to take advantage of the present opportunity as well as lay in a little grub for emergencies. for all any one can say to the contrary it may be our hard luck to get caught in an air pocket and take a tumble just as buddy probably did when such things would come in mighty handy. i'm leaving that little task for you to handle, perk, because you're right clever when it's grub that's needed." "yeah, i always aim to be that way an' i take it as a compliment you're payin' me when you talk that way. nobody c'n amount to thirty cents when he hasn't stoked his engine properly with fuel." "i don't know whether you're on to it or not, brother," pursued jack as they began to hastily assemble their few possessions preparatory to stepping out; "but i've been clipping every account i could find in the papers you fetched home, covering buddy's dropping out of sight." "huh! i sure did take notice of the fact, but never dreamin' we'd have a peep-in at this wide search. i jest guessed you was enough int'rested to want to compare these here wise-cracks about the cause o' his trouble with what it really must a'been, in case they found the remains o' his crate in some canyon or gully." "that was one reason," admitted jack candidly, "but somehow, though i never let on to you, i seemed to have a sort of feeling we might be working on that mystery sooner or later--you might call it an _inspiration_ and let it go at that." "glory be jack, an' what have you got in that wise coco o' yourn, if it's all right for you to up an' spill the game?" "some time while we're on our way," the other explained just as if he had the thing all laid out, even to the smallest particulars, "while you're running the ship, i mean to go carefully over those newspaper reporters' accounts and try to figure out just what could have happened to bring about buddy's disappearance--also, find what sort of weather he must have struck right after jumping off from his last port of call to drop mail sacks and pick up others." perk thereupon wagged his head as though he began to understand what a skillful way his chum had of getting at the "meat in the cocoanut." "no wildcat skirmishin', an' heatin' about the bush for _you_, eh partner?" he blurted out in sincere admiration. "an' i'd wager all i got in my jeans you're bound to hit on the real facts when everything's figgered up." "don't be too sure about that brother," advised jack, shaking his head as he spoke, "i'll certainly do my level best, but you never can tell how the cat's going to jump. it's one thing to theorize and quite another to hit on what's the truth. i'll try and separate the wheat from the chaff and by degrees build up a little story of my own that may, and again may not, cover the ground. now let's clear out of this after we've paid our landlady what we owe for our room, and thank her for being so kind to a couple of forlorn bachelor flyers." this was soon done and shortly afterwards they sat down to have a last meal in their favorite restaurant, perk meanwhile having laid in a certain amount of supplies in the way of such food as they could take care of while on the wing. then they hastened to the flying field to have their ship hauled out of the hangar, tuned up for the last time and give them an opportunity to "kick-off," as perk was pleased to call it, before darkness fell. perk secretly had been entertaining a little fear lest at the last minute something not down on the bills might spring a leak and bring about an unfortunate delay in their departure--so much time had already passed since the disappearance of the air-mail pilot that another six or ten hours must seem deplorable--but fortunately nothing untoward came along. the ship was trundled to a nearby point where jack figured they should take off, basing his decision on the way the wind happened to be blowing and after a brief examination they pronounced their air steed to be in perfect trim. jack shook hands with the late guardian of their plane as he slipped an extra bill into his possession so too, did perk thank him warmly concerning the way he had performed his duty for since those enemies had failed in their attempt to "take them for a ride," it had always been possible for them to cripple the new cloud chaser so that something dreadful was likely to happen when they were a mile from the ground. nothing now remained for them to do save settle down in their seats--they had donned their dungarees, fixed their helmets and chute packs and in other ways prepared for a long flight into the west. already it had grown dusk, although the sun could not be far down below the horizon and very likely they would glimpse his smiling face again when they had climbed toward cloud-land so jack gave her the gun and with a roar they sped down the field. viii birds of a feather just as they had expected they soon glimpsed the descending sun when they had attained a certain altitude and at the same time the earth far below was almost lost to sight, since the night haze was settling down. perk, having nothing else of importance to do, was arranging their headphone apparatus so that in case they wished to make any sort of talk it could be readily carried out in spite of the continuous clamor surrounding them. this new ship was also supplied with that recent invention known as a silencer--long used in connection with firearms by the way, and now applied to the motor of a plane with successful results--jack had not thought it necessary to bring it into play since it retarded the speed of the ship to some extent and there was no necessity for demanding a cessation of the dreadful clatter and droning. jack had headed directly into the west as soon as their craft attained a sufficient altitude. he had his chart on the airways well studied, and knew just where and when they could strike a line of beacons, such as have been arranged for air mail pilots in their night journeys to and fro with their complement of letter sacks and possibly express matter. after a short interval the sun disappeared even for these high flyers and the stars gradually began to dot the blue heavens overhead. "if you don't mind perk," the head pilot was saying, as he turned on his cabin light, "i'd like you to take her over for a spell. somehow i'm anxious to go over those clippings and make a start at laying out our plan of campaign. we've got nothing as yet to go by except what those newspaper boys gathered up so as to spin their fairy yarns--later we're bound to strike pay dirt on our own account, and can do a little building with a foundation of real stuff, not speculation and romance behind it." that suited perk to a fraction, for truth to tell he was floundering in a bog himself, not knowing how they were to get down to "hard pan" and be able to lay out their course with some show of reason. he had become quite adept at the old dodge of "leave it to george" and filled with confidence in his chum's ability to handle any sort of situation, he believed he displayed more or less wisdom in not attempting to wrestle with mysteries beyond his limited capacity. for a long time jack read on, tore up a number of the slips of newspaper stuff, laid others aside as if for a second application, made a number of notes on a little pad he kept handy and seemed so much in earnest that perk kept tabs of his actions with glistening eyes. in his mind jack already must have "struck oil" and doubtless arrived at some specious solution of the riddle that had the entire country guessing--what had happened to buddy warner, the best liked air-mail pilot in the whole region west of the mississippi--where had he crashed--was he still alive or had he followed the long line of famous flyers who had "gone west" after attempting to put through some dazzling exploit that would have brought immortal fame if only it had succeeded? all this while the plane roared on, slipping through space at the rate of something close to a hundred and twenty miles an hour for this was an occasion when speed meant everything. perk too rejoiced in handling the throttle of an up-to-date ship that put it all over the ancient type of plane which he had been wont to employ when going forth so flippantly to offer battle to those pestering hun pilots when the war was on in france. "hot ziggetty dog partner! you sure have had a big session with them news articles an' i notice how you threw a heap o' them overboard like they didn't 'mount to a row o' beans." perk said this when he saw jack shake his head as though he might be somewhat puzzled and needed more or less reflection so as to straighten things out. "after all, i didn't get even half as much genuine information from the bunch as i hoped i would," the other told him, though there was no hint of bitter disappointment in his manner of speaking, only disgust that so much could be written, founded on such minute real facts. "these newspaper boys can spin the most gorgeous yarns on a speck of truth--it's their business to stretch things to the breaking point you know, partner, and they sure do that. all that i discarded and threw over the side was just chaff, without a single sound kernel of wheat in it. when later on, after i've had time to digest things a bit when i go over what's left, chances are there'll be another sheaf of clippings go bad and be tossed out. some of those stories were the bunk, made up in the reporter's skillful brain out of nothing at all, even if interesting to the general reader. in these days the story's the main thing editors demand." "yeah! i kinder guessed that way myself," remarked perk, trying hard to seem disgusted, "though i own up they did make what you might call interestin' readin' that might pull the wool over the eyes o' most folks. an' what did you think was the worst story in the bunch, jack old hoss?" "i don't know if you read it, perk, for it was in a paper i bought myself and which you hadn't seen," jack told him. "seems to me i do 'member you fetched one home and i lost track o' it in all the rush an bustle, jack. tear in an' tell a feller what it all was about, won't you?" "this was a letter received from a pilot who had formerly worked on the same shift as buddy warner--it went on to broadly hint the boy had some kind of secret enemy and was deeply concerned--the writer of the letter couldn't say positively what sort of trouble the missing pilot was up against, but declared it his belief that buddy had met with some kind of foul play--that this other person might be interested in buddy's disappearance!" "rats! i don't like the way he put that stuff over!" scoffed perk with considerable indignation and concern. "clean as a hound's tooth that was buddy warner and every one who knew him would say the same. i don't believe the cub had an enemy in the world--i'd call that a nasty makeup o' a crooked yarn." "i'm with you there brother," said jack firmly. "but you can understand how eager some people are to get into print--they see an opening to break into some matter that's gripped the public attention and just yearn to share in the spotlight. we'll have a chance to dig out the truth for ourselves before a great while, if any sort of luck helps us to grab the right cards." jack thereupon put away the few clippings he had kept and was soon in charge of the stick while his partner occupied himself with some of the ordinary duties pertaining to the observer and navigator of a double-seat air craft when on the wing. the motor continued to function to a point close to perfection, showing how marvelous the skill of those mechanics to whom the task of building an engine fitted for the work of driving a heavier than air ship at an amazing pace through space must be. the more jack and perk saw of their new boat, the higher their sincere admiration soared. if ever perfection was reached in such things it surely must have been when they put this engine together with an accuracy that compared favorably with the works of the finest and most expensive watch that ever came out of switzerland. "no necessity for both of us to stick it out when the going is as smooth as it is right now," suggested jack, "later on we may strike rough sledding when both of us will have to keep on deck for many hours. suppose perk, you curl up and take a snooze. i'll promise to wake you up inside of three hours when you can take charge while i hit the hay--how about that arrangement, boy?" "oh! it's okay any old way with me, partner," replied the other readily enough for truth to tell perk was commencing to yawn and show other signs of being sleepy, though he would willingly have stayed on the job until morning had there been any necessity for doing so. "just ten p. m. right now brother--about half-past twelve, then, i'll give you a nudge which will mean your watch has arrived while i get a couple of hours off duty to freshen up. everything looks up to snuff so far buddy, and let's hope it will keep on that way right along." so perk settled down as comfortably as the limited accommodations allowed while jack continued to watch his indicators on the black dashboard and by the exercise of continual care avoid such traps as tricky air pockets, such as might fall in their way. ix the threatening crash as time passed jack continued to sit there in charge, frequently glancing over the side to see if there were any signs of the swirling beacons especially designed to assist air mail pilots on their way to some distant goal. he had figured out that they must, sooner or later, come upon the line of such beacons and once found it would not be very difficult to continue following them during the balance of the night. in the end he was greatly pleased to discover a faint light ahead--in about ten seconds he glimpsed it again and when this happened for the third time his last doubt was removed. as he passed far above the revolving light he changed his course a little knowing the points of the compass the line of beacons followed, he must set out to follow them for unless he managed to do the right thing he could not possibly come across the next whirling glow. three, four of the friendly lights designated as "guide-posts of the air" he passed and all seemed going just as he would wish, when there came a sudden and unwelcome change. perk, sleeping just behind the pilot, felt something come in contact with his arm and he instinctively understood it was jack giving him the prearranged nudge to let him know his rest period had expired and that it was up to him to take his turn at the controls. "huh! i get you, partner," he mumbled, not yet thoroughly aroused, "watchman, how goes the night, eh jack, old hoss?" "not so good," the other told him. "i swan now, if this ain't a punk deal!" ventured perk, in a tone of injured innocence, "when did this beat in on us, buddy?" "it's just plain unadulterated fog," jack told him in a matter-of-fact tone as though such a thing was to be expected in a night's run where every possible type of country, from prairie to mountains, could be met up with and the contrary streams of air were favorable to heavy fogs. perk first of all took a single look over the side. "ginger pop! a reg'lar pea-soup that's been dished up for us, it sure is, partner!" he exclaimed, the head phones still being in use so that talking was no trouble at all even though the racket all around was deafening. "some fog, that's right perk," admitted the unmoved pilot "the one you're mixed up with always does seem to be the worst ever." "how long we been kickin' through this mess?" demanded perk. "oh, something like half an hour more or less i figure," said jack. "an' it's now jest three in the mornin'--meanin' some two and a half more hours before the first peep o' day." he leaned forward, the better to survey the altitude dial in order to learn how high jack had been flying. "four thousand feet an' more, eh?" perk remarked, "i guess that might be fairly safe, unless there happened to be a stiff mountain range standin' across our course. want me to keep that right along, boss?" "for another half hour and then we've got to climb as far again--can't take any chance in a mess like this--i've always got that transcontinental air transport liner, the _san francisco_ in my mind when i strike into a heavy fog."[ ] perk made a queer sound with his lips as if to indicate that his feelings ran along the same groove. indeed, many an air pilot has had that same terrible tragedy flash before him when plunging onward through an opaque wall of fog, unable to even see his own wingtips. "i'm on partner," said perk as he took over the stick. "meanin' to get seven winks o' sleep, ain't you?" "not just now," responded jack, "truth is i'm not a bit sleepy so i'll just take things easy and do some thinking while you run the ship." "expected to meet up with some muck like this i guess, eh, partner?" "sure did perk, only not quite so soon," came the undisturbed reply. "it seems there's been an unusual amount of dirty weather out this way lately and we've just slammed into this fog as a feeler. about four, start to head toward that higher ceiling--no particular hurry i'd say, according to the chart." "okay boss, i got you," with which perk relapsed in silence while the plane continued to speed along with its monotonous roar and hum. if anything the fog was growing thicker, perk made up his mind, although he really had nothing to afford any comparison since they were completely shut in as by a circular wall, not even a solitary star being in evidence and certainly not the faintest glimmer of a moving beacon down below where the unseen earth lay. at such a time as this the air pilot finds himself depending wholly on the accuracy of his instruments, backed by his ability to read them without the slightest error. perk was well up in all this and had no doubt of his judgment in carrying on. flying blind is what these gallant sailors of the airways call such a condition, though the only recognition of the encompassing danger is a cutting down of their swift pace. the consequent thrill that accompanies such a voyage through a sea of fog comes to every pilot; although in time they become so accustomed to the conditions that it fails to affect them as in the beginning. should the bravest of men, though a beginner in aviation, ever experience such a wild night ride through space and heavy fog it would give him a sense of anticipation that could come through no other source, whether on sea or land. once, when there chanced to be a little change in the scant night breeze, perk lifted his head as if to listen but before he could decide whether he had actually heard something or had been deceived by a strut snapping back, the feeble air again fell away and left him groping in ignorance, not wholly satisfied, yet unable to find anything on which to hang a conjecture. "rats! you must be away off your base perk," he told himself chidingly, "huh! not a ghost o' a chance in ten thousand--yet it sure did sound like a ship in action. must be hearin' things again in the night." he had slackened the pace somewhat, thinking of that dreadful crash down amidst the lava beds of the wildest country in the whole southwest, mind pictures that made him willing to consider safety first before speed. perhaps it was fate that made perk for once conquer that reckless spirit of his for there could be no telling what the consequences might have been otherwise. again he lifted his head and assumed the strained attitude that went with listening intently--the roar of their engine's exhaust seemed to eclipse any other sound and as if seized with a sudden inspiration, perk reached out and brought the silencer into play. this had an immediate effect--and then too it caused jack to take notice, for he called out: "what's the big idea partner--trying things out are you?" "listen, jack--don't you hear it ahead there?" almost shrieked the one at the stick. a few seconds passed during which jack must have been straining his ears to the utmost. then he gave a cry that bubbled forth in a mixture of incredulity and alarm--the only time on record that perk could remember jack showing such an unusual emotion. "it's a ship, perk!" he shrilled. "you bet it is!" echoed the other, dismay in his thick voice. "dead ahead of us too and bearing this way," continued jack as the portentous sounds grew louder with each passing second. their own motor had been throttled down to a mere whisper and thus any other sound was due to be heard. a few more dreadful seconds passed with that throbbing sound growing more and more threatening. "must be the east bound air mail!" jack hastily exclaimed, "make a nose dive partner, and in a hurry too, for she's right on us!" ----- footnote : september, , this wonderful up-to-date giant air liner with eight persons aboard, became lost in a storm and fog and crashed headlong into a rocky cliff in the black rock valley, some twenty-six miles from gallup, new mexico, exploded and burned with a total loss of ship, crew and five passengers. the tragedy of this once volcanic district sent a wave of horror throughout the entire country and proved a setback to the cause of aviation. jack only voiced the feelings of nearly every pilot in saying what he did. x flying blind instantly the head of the ship was pointed downward and they started to coast--even as this maneuver was in progress and the roar became deafening, both of them caught a fragmentary glimpse of bright lights passing just overhead. it had indeed been a close shave, for only that perk proved so clever at the stick they must have met the mail ship head on with the inevitable result that yet another tragedy of the air would be chronicled in the morning newspapers with scare headlines fully an inch high. perk had lost his voice due to the sudden nerve strain and even ordinarily cool jack ralston waited a brief spell, in order to insure proper breathing before trying to speak. "reckon you got all the thrill you could stand that time, perk!" he finally remarked with a little quiver in his voice. "beat anything i ever stacked up against--that's right partner," perk frankly admitted, doubtless taking in a deep breath of relief. "never might happen again in twenty years," said jack, as if that feature of the near tragedy affected him most of all. "with all this wide space all around us, just to think of two airships heading straight at each other in a fog--who says now we're not watched over by a special providence?" "you said it buddy," perk agreed. "that sure was a time when that muffler paid a big interest on its cost an' i kinder guess saved our lives in the bargain. it pays to advertise an' also to pick up the newest fixin's along the line o' aviation discoveries an' inventions." "just so perk. if our engine had kept thundering away right along we might not have been warned in time to get out of the road and let that stunt-flying air mail pilot squeeze past. he ought to be reported for hustling along like that in such a thick soup; but since we're still alive and kicking, i reckon we'll just have to let it drop at that." "mebbe you're right there, jack old bean--strikes me we were hittin' it up like hot cakes in the bargain an' not so innocent after all. i'm a'wonderin' if he got wind o' the close call he had--must have lamped our lights as we ducked and went down like a bullet or the stick o' a rocket that'd exploded up near the stars. shucks! i'd jest like to meet up with that guy sometime an' ask him what his feelin' was--bet you he was as scart as we felt when he whizzed right over our heads." "it might be the part of wisdom to climb to a higher level now, partner," hinted jack. "unless i miss my guess that chap was dropping, as if he'd come down from the upper regions, which gives me an idea he knew where he was and had been keeping a big ceiling so as to avoid butting into some mountain peak." "here goes then," and with the words perk commenced to climb, the new ship being so constructed as to be a great improvement over the old type of plane, able to ascend at a steep angle without any of those formerly necessary laborious spirals. at the height of four thousand feet he again leveled off and kept to the course jack had marked out. perhaps they were over some air mail line with its friendly flashing beacons winking far below; but that deadly wall of fog lying under their keel effectually prevented them from taking advantage of any such guide posts along the way; nor would it have availed them greatly could they have dropped down to within a few hundred feet of the earth, for even at such a distance it must have been utterly out of the question for the keenest vision to have picked up a beacon or even detect its flash because of the curtain that fairly smothered them on all sides, above and below. they no longer conversed, even perk understanding how serious their condition must be and holding his usually ready tongue in check, while jack took it out in tense thinking, watching the various dials and figuring just which way they would be going in case of drift. so half an hour crept by, with no change whatever in the conditions by which they were surrounded. it was now growing most unbearable, so monotonous, so very tiresome. a heavy fog is hard enough to bear at any time but when it stretches along hour after hour, without the slightest sign of any diminuation, it is bound to get on the stoutest nerves and produce symptoms bordering on a panic. "perhaps we might find some relief if we kept going up," suggested jack after some time had passed. "it sort of stifles me to keep in such a thick mess as this, growing worse all the while." "huh, if i wasn't jest thinkin' that way myself partner," perk declared, thus showing that it was a case of "me too." they kept on climbing, although neither could discover much difference in that miserable opaque blanket. it began to grow much colder too, although they managed to don some heavier coats which would keep them from feeling the change in weather conditions to any extent. "don't seem to be much use i guess perk, in all my experience i can't say i ever ran across a fog that expended such a distance above the earth. most times you can get out of the ditch by climbing, but here we are at a thirteen thousand foot ceiling and it's as black as ever. no use trying to get above the line--it just can't be done." "right you are partner," admitted perk, leveling off, "though i must say the breathin' seems a shade easier than down below." "we'll stick it out here for a while," jack went on to say, "and it may be that the coming dawn may bring some sort of a breeze along to scatter this beastly stuff and let us see what's what." "anyway," perk was saying, as if in relief, "at such a height we ain't likely to rub noses with any rock pinnacle and to our everlastin' grief in the bargain. the air's like enough free of mountain peaks around this section o' country, which is some comfort to a fog-bound pair o' ginks, i admit." it was by this time about five o'clock and perk was banking heavily on the fact that inside of another half hour, at that extreme height, they were likely to discover the advance couriers of approaching dawn commencing to paint the eastern heavens with fingers of delicate shaded colors. "got any sort o' idee where we might be right now, jack?" "why, sitting tight in a nice fog blanket i'd say, brother," replied the one who was now at the controls, having some time back made the exchange, easily enough accomplished without the necessity of changing seats. "jokin' aside, jack, i mean what section o' country might be away down below-stairs where there's land and green things--how i'd like to rest my tired peepers on somethin' _green_ for a change." "i'm not as sure of my figures as i'd like to be perk, for it's been hours since we saw anything at all except this fog; but we've covered a lot of space and must be well on our way to the hunting ground we started for. wait until we get out of this mess and then it can be settled as soon as we strike any town, village or even hamlet, that'll give us a hint concerning our bearings." "i'm bothered a little bit just the same," complained perk. "what about, old pal?" demanded jack quickly. "what if somethin' should happen to our ship--we're a long way from any place an' well, 'fore you took over the stick jack, seemed to me there was a bit o' a holdup to the slick way the boat had been whooping things up--i might a'been mistaken, but she seemed to be wallowin' some, like she didn't just feel pleased over the cargo she had to carry." "perk, now that you mention it i do believe you're right--i'm not pushing her much, but she does act sort of sulky, as if tired of this thing--not that we could blame her for feeling that way. tell you what, partner--suppose you climb out and take a look around to see if everything seems okay." accordingly perk, as if sensing some hidden motive in what the other had just remarked, left his seat and made his way out to the port wing--the ship was swaying more or less, dipping and nosing upward as jack held her to it, but perk being quite accustomed to such things had no trouble whatever. a minute later and he came hurrying back to attach his earphones again and cry out in a tone filled with more or less excitement: "jack, there is something the matter for sure--fact is there's ice formin' on both wings, and right heavy at that!" xi an unsolved mystery "take over the stick again perk," said jack, apparently not very much astounded by the serious information his mate had just given him, "i think i'd like to have a look myself; i've never had any great trouble with ice since i've not been much of a hand to soar up twenty or thirty thousand feet for an altitude record. nothing much to worry about partner. at the worst we will have to drop lower down so the warmer air will melt the stuff. a ship like this can stand considerable in the way of a cargo, though it isn't just the proper caper to stow the load on the wings--far better to have it somewhere inside the fuselage. here goes!" whereupon jack crawled out of the cabin and started to make a close investigation while perk did the honors along the steering line, more or less eager to hear his mate's report when he came back from his little tour. "it's all right brother," he heard jack saying, even before the other regained his customary front seat--"nothing to bother about and we'll soon knock spots out of what ice has already gathered. pretty snappy out here, i notice. we'll drop down to a more comfy level and take chances with being suffocated by that gruelly stuff. go to it sonny, i'm inside the safety line." down they went in long slides one after another until the thirteen thousand became ten, then seven and there jack told his comrade to "hold everything" and cut down the speed a bit. "daylight's about due i figure," he observed, "and once we cut loose from this blank curtain and pick up some visibility, we'll not have to feel nervous about some of those rocky snags that lie in ambush to impale venturesome aviators when off their course and lost in a maze." perk soon afterward realized that what his mate had remarked must be true, for sure enough over in the east he could manage to detect some faint signs of a break in the hitherto impenetrable gloom surrounding them, positive evidence of the fact that morning was "just around the corner." "what's more," perk told himself, in jubilation, "i guess now i c'n feel a little waft o' a breeze startin' up. soon as that gets goin' it's goodbye to mister fog. whew! mebbe i won't be tickled pink when that's come to pass cause i'm crazy to set eyes on dear old mother earth again. yes sir, the pesky old fog is commencin' to move out--jest keep it up, for you never will be missed." "all over but the shouting perk," remarked jack just then as if he could have understood the tenor of the other's thoughts. "inside of another half hour we'll be free from the stuff--wow! i never want to run through such a siege as this again, particularly in this wild western country where peaks are in the majority and every one looking to stab some poor wandering airship." "i kinder guess you're itchin' to get our bearings again jack?" asked the walking question mark who was never really happy except when in a position to toss queries at some one. "naturally so," jack told him point blank. "we had to get twisted up more or less during that drive through fogland, and the sooner i can pick up my bearings the better i'll be pleased. if you ask me offhand where we might be, i'd say within a few hundred miles of the spot where buddy warner took off on his last trip." "good enough!" crowed perk, "nothin' like making things fly when you're about it--no beatin' around the bush for us, partner. then if we pick our course as per the information that leaked from that airport where he left his mail sack an' took on another batch, why we might begin to keep a watchful eye on the ground in hopes o' makin' some sorter discovery--is that right?" "you can begin using the glasses just as soon as we get our first glimpse of green spots below. later on we'll drop down until we're not more than three hundred feet, more or less, above the treetops--if there are any tall trees in this section of country, which might be a question--possibly nothing in that line but scrub oaks, mesquite and the like, stunted stuff that grows on many western mountains and in rocky canyons." perk was in a little heaven of his own later on when calling out that he could distinctly see the ground, thanks to his binoculars. morning had come, with the sun well above the horizon and everything indicating they had a fair day ahead as frequently happens after a heavy fog. it was a wild stretch of country now spread beneath the sky voyagers, with all manner of lofty peaks in every direction, mountain ranges running criss-cross without the faintest sign of regularity. "i swan if i'd care to be lost down in that sort o' country," perk was saying as he continued to stare with great eagerness. "jest about like huntin' for a needle in a haystack as to 'spect to find a cracked bus in all that awful scramble." "oh! we haven't got to where the trail is warm yet, partner," jack informed him, "though of course it isn't going to do any harm for you to scour the ground as we cut along. when a thing's lost, the chances are it happens to be lying just where nobody suspects--i've found that out myself more than a few times." "yeah! jest so boss," grunted the one who handled the binoculars, "an' if we fall down on the job it ain't goin' to be from not usin' our eyes to the limit. but say, things keep on pilin' up worse than i ever ran across in all my whole life--look at what's ahead there--can you beat it, jack?" "pretty tough stretch of mountain land any way you take it," said jack as he swept his eyes around from right to left, "but fortunately we have nothing to worry about as long as we keep a fairly decent ceiling. fact is, i'd call it free-going up here, with a nice cool breeze knocking on our port quarter and not hindering us any, even if it doesn't push us along." "that's right, jack--after that boring through a fog belt hundreds o' miles wide, this does seem like a little bit o' heaven on earth. mebbe you've noticed me takin' a look all around once in a while--up in the air, i mean? somehow i've been wonderin' why we haven't glimpsed a single ship since sun-up." "do you mean air-mail crates or some of those pilots who're searching for signs of buddy warner?" the other demanded of perk. "either kind, if it's all the same to you, jack. if we're not so far away from where the poor chap said his last goodbye as he took off with his sack of uncle sam's mail, strikes me we had ought to've run across one bus anyway, of all the flock that must be on the wing lookin' for the boy." "just so perk, but consider the immensity of space out in these regions, with all these mountains to get lost in. a score of pilots might spend every single day for a whole year in winging around the neighborhood of the colorado canyon and never once glimpse the smashed crate, even if it was in some open stretch of ground." "which i take it covers the case okay," agreed perk. "on 'count o' them big holes in the ground together with the tricky cross currents o' wind, air pockets an' all such sneaky things every airman hates with all his heart, we have to keep up some high an' even through the glass, small objects like the wings o' a smashed crate are bound to look like pin points." "when your eyes tire of searching," remarked the considerate pilot, "give me the word and i'll change places with you, partner." "sure thing old hoss--i don't aim to hog _all_ the fun," perk quickly observed and kept staring this way and that in an honest endeavor to cover the entire ground as thoroughly as possible. from time to time he would break loose to tell of some abnormal freak of nature that he had discovered. to all these sallies jack made no reply for he himself was thinking deeply and trying to map out a consistent method of conducting the search on which they were now fully launched. the government, conscious of the duty devolving on the post office department to show natural concern for the lives of its faithful employees, had seen fit to detach jack and perk from all other duties and order them to exert themselves to the utmost in an effort to find the missing pilot. aside from the glory that would fall to those who won out, jack felt very keenly for the old mother of buddy warner, doubtless passing sleepless nights while the mystery of her boy remained an unsolved problem. xii in the colorado canyon country ever since hopping off at cheyenne their course had been more or less directly southwest, for jack, on consulting his chart, had figured that this would take them close to their intended goal. only in a general way was he able to decide as to where they must be on this morning after their long flight through that enormous fog belt. strange as it might seem, thus far they had glimpsed nothing positive that would give them their exact location, but just the same jack was so certain about his figuring, knowing what distance they had covered since the start, that he did not concern himself greatly over this question. in good time something would come along to clear things up nicely, and once they got their bearings if would be possible to pick up the game with heart and soul enlisted in its carrying out. "now would you b'lieve it partner," perk was saying at one time much later in the morning, with the same wilderness covering the face of the earth far below as wide as eye could reach, "if there ain't one o' them pirates o' the air spreadin' himself to try an' cut across our path, like he wanted to take a close-up o' sech a queer contraption that keeps on makin' all them roarin' noises. i call him a feathered hijacker, 'cause he lies in wait tryin' to hold up industrious fish-hawks when they been an' grabbed a dinner outen the river, an' robbin' 'em o' it." "oh! i reckon now you're meaning an eagle, eh perk?" "old baldhead, the great american fraud that uncle sam keeps stampin' on his coins. a loafer an' a shark, too lazy to do his own huntin' an' stealin' his grub from the hard workin' osprey. see him cuttin' it for all he's worth, tryin' to butt in on us! hey, mebbe the ornery fool's got a big notion we're tryin' to put the laugh on him, an' means to give us the defy--a fool notion, i'd call it. let him try hittin' up against the side o' our fuselage an' see what happens to _him_, that's all." jack evinced sudden interest, as was proven by his saying sharply: "but see here that may not be all, as you think! what if the fool bird plunges madly at our ship? instead of butting his head against the fuselage he might strike our propeller, which would knock him galley-west, but also disable our craft. perk, better get out that sub-machine gun of yours and be ready to settle his hash if it seems likely he can head us off." "hot ziggetty dog! i never though o' _that_, partner!" cried the now thoroughly alarmed perk hastening to scramble out of his seat, dive back and drag out the firearm with which he had done such gallant service not so long ago. "watch the rascal," jack was telling him in steadying tones, "and if it looks as though he'll reach us, start gunning for him, otherwise hold your fire out of respect for the motto on our gold coins. sit pretty, partner--i'm depending on you to do a good job." jack changed his course a trifle, as if intending to give the charging bird a chance to live to another day. in this way the chase was made more stern and the possibility of a fatal contact between bird and the man-made king of the upper air rendered less likely. perk, crouching there with ready gun, held himself prepared to pour out a hot fusilade if it became absolutely necessary. he had to judge the velocity of the eagle's advance and also note how jack was so skillfully edging away to the left in order to avoid slaughtering the brave but misguided bird. after all it was a false alarm, for the eagle shot past at least twenty feet back of their rudder, going "for all he was worth" as perk afterwards explained it and by the time he could swerve, the plane was so far away that the baffled bird felt compelled to give up the pursuit, though doing so grudgingly, perk decided. he hardly knew whether to be inclined to jeer at the foolish actions of the king of the air, or give him a cheer on account of so brashly charging the great bulk that he must have considered a rival in his special field. at least there was no need of making use of the gun which he hastened to put back in its former nook where it could easily be snatched up in case of any sudden emergency. "mebbe it's jest as well i didn't have to riddle the old jay," perk told himself as he resumed his seat and his glasses. "may be a buccaneer, like some folks say, but he's got good grit and won't take a dare from even a zeppelin, should one come sailin' along in his happy huntin' grounds." the morning was wearing away with the amphibian keeping up its merry pace and the country showing no signs of betterment. civilization was a million miles distant, one would imagine, when looking down on those amazing masses of rocky peaks over which they were winging their way. judging from what they saw hour after hour, jack could well believe that changes there had been only to a small degree since columbus first sighted these shores hundreds of years back. indeed, for thousands upon thousands of years those giant fingers of rock had been pointing to the blue sky above, just as they saw them now. they ate some food about noon, washing it down with a few gulps of water they carried in a jug. strange that even perk had not remarked upon being hungry, which was such a remarkable thing for him that jack concluded his mind for once had been taken off the subject of eating and was fully occupied with the strange mission upon which they were engaged. several times jack asked the observer whether he could make out any signs of a river bed ahead and seemed surprised and a bit disappointed when perk replied in the negative. "unless i'm away off my base," jack finally told his companion, "we ought to be somewhere in the vicinity of the colorado and the enormous canyon through which it makes its way down to the gulf of california." perk displayed a sudden fresh interest in matters. "i swan, partner," he remarked in considerable agitation, "does that 'ere mean we might set eyes on that monster hole in the ground i've read so much about? are we close to the colorado river where she runs 'long through the rainbow gorge and the towerin' cliffs rear their red, blue, green and yeller walls hundreds o' feet high on both sides?" "you said it perk. chances are we'll set eyes on that big hole in the ground they call the colorado canyon before we strike another night." "je-ru-salem crickets buddy! that sounds good to me!" exulted perk, visibly stirred by the thrilling information. "allers did sorter hanker 'bout lampin' that pictur', an' it'll please me plenty if dreams do come true." this kept him quiet for some time, though he worked his glasses with a fresher zeal as though bent on missing nothing that seemed worth looking at. but thus far not the slightest object had been sighted that might turn out to be of special interest to any one looking for a smashed plane. the sun was now well down the western heavens and perk was beginning to fear the prophecy of his companion would fail to come true, when something caught his vigilant eye far in the distance and on which he focussed his binoculars. he looked long and steadily before announcing his discovery to jack. "i kinder guess partner, we're there all right," he finally burst out. "and what makes you feel that way, perk?" "from the signs ahead i figger we're gettin' close to a big sink and i c'n see the sun glintin' from somethin' shiny yonder--might be that hotel they got on the top o' the west wall, if i remember straight. yes-siree, it's jest like i'm tellin' you matey, the old river must lie down in that deep canyon. gee whiz! it makes me near goofy jest to think how i'm goin' to see the biggest canyon in the whole world, with painted walls an' all sorts o' queer relics o' ancient injuns scattered around. hot ziggetty dog! ain't i glad they sent us out this way though! if on'y we c'n find that boy, i'll be the happiest chap on earth, an' that's no lie either." that was perk's usual way of arriving at a decision without making certain. jack on the other hand, was accustomed to holding himself in check until he had actually proven it a certainty and even then he rarely gave way to any outburst of joy, leaving that to his more excitable comrade. in due time they found themselves looking down on one of the most wonderful sights that can be found anywhere in the wide world. a spectacle unmatched in any other land which people come thousands of miles to feast their enraptured eyes upon. xiii a stranded plane jack continued to stay at the controls, possibly because he wished perk to do the observing as his keen eyesight was such a valuable asset. it proved that the object perk had seen, and on which the sun was shining in such a dazzling way, was the hotel that catered to the many visitors and tourists who at certain seasons of the year flocked thither, enjoying the thrill of gazing on those natural wonders so profuse in that locality. perk could readily make out a number of moving figures on the edge of the canyon, evidently intent on watching the coming of the airship and doubtless speculating as to its mission. undoubtedly other boats had been seen flying overhead, since that particular section of country was being combed by a host of swift craft gathered from various quarters, all engaged in the humane task of striving to find the missing air mail pilot. but jack gave no evidence of a desire to drop down in the vicinity of the great hotel with its throng of guests--they could give him no information and the time could be more profitably used in commencing a systematic search. it would be time to descend when their stock of supplies in the line of food fell short or the gas tank gave promise of becoming empty. nothing less must distract them from the task they had been commissioned to carry out with all their ability. "i c'n see people comin' up out o' the canyon now," perk asserted with emphasis, "an' seems like they must be mounted on mules or donkeys, 'cause no hosses c'n climb up an' down sech steep slopes. say, ain't that worth comin' out here to see? i'll tell the world it sure is! mebbe, 'fore we starts back to old cheyenne, we'll get a chance to go down into the bowels o' the earth like them folks have been doin', an' seein' the hull panorama from the bottom." "who knows, perk?" quoth the unmoved jack, "but in the meantime we've got to stick on our job and do our level best to find buddy--because of his mourning mother if for no other reason--and that goes!" "i like to hear you say that, partner," cried sympathetic perk, "an' me to back it up to the limit. my eyes! what a peach o' a pictur' that sure is! somethin' never to be rubbed out while you live. beats anything i ever set eyes on by big odds. niagara was fine enough, but say, it ain't in the same class as this paintin' o' old dame nature's." "i'd call it sublime, and let it go at that," jack admitted, "for words never were coined that could do justice to such a tremendous thing in the way of natural scenery." the hotel was now in their rear and rapidly growing fainter in the distance, while below lay the wide reaches of the enormous canyon, dug through uncounted ages by the swift current of the famous river that miles further on would disappear from sight between walls that reared their heads hundreds of feet aloft. as if to give them both a comprehensive view of the entire opening, jack had reduced their speed to a minimum and was following the canyon gap with perk keeping his eyes glued to his glasses, unable to tear them away for a single second lest he lose something of absorbing interest, possibly the most entrancing object in all that long category. so it was that jack felt a shock when he suddenly heard perk giving tongue as though gripped with some fresh cause for excitement. "hey! what's this i'm seein' partner?" he yelled. "whereabouts?" demanded the other in a flash, for there was something he could detect in perk's squeal that would indicate a discovery of more than usual importance. "right down in the ditch--look ahead, an' you'll see it! boy, if that ain't a airship lyin' on the sandy shore o' the river, i'll eat my hat! an' yes, by gum! there's a man standin' alongside wavin' somethin' white like a flag o' distress! oh my stars, c'n it be possible we've run on to poor buddy warner so clost to help an' him stuck there like a pig in a poke all this while? jack, whatever c'n it mean, do you reckon?" jack was rather startled by what his comrade was saying, but as always proved himself quick to act. "take over the stick perk, and give me the glasses. i must see for myself what it means. a plane down in that big hole, close to the edge of the rushing river and only a mile or so from help--it seems incredible--why, as i understand from what i've heard and read, parties with their guides often spend a night in the canyon looking through those queer indian stone houses and even wander along the river for some distance. why, he never could be that close by all this time and his condition continue unknown." he was riveting his gaze upon the spot perk had pointed to, and just as the other had declared, some one was making frantic gestures, waving a piece of white cloth and plainly asking them to drop down and rescue him or at least convey a knowledge of his desperate situation to those at the hotel. the more jack stared the greater did the mystery become in his mind. it simply could not be--there must be some other explanation to account for so unreasonable a condition. what should they do about it? the man kept waving his distress signal, and possibly was at the same time shouting something, to judge from his actions although of course his voice failed utterly to reach their ears. "what's goin' to be done about it, eh partner?" perk was saying as he swung in a great curve and again started to pass over the object of jack's scrutiny and bewilderment. "do we leave him there, after comin' so far to help the poor lad? ain't there a way for us to slant down an' drop on that sandy shore his boat's restin' on? bet every red cent i got it c'n be done, brother an' you're the boy to tackle the ticklish job." "make still another circuit, perk," said jack earnestly from which his companion judged he must be even then considering in his mind whether the proposed scheme were feasible or not. "he keeps right along signalin' to us not to desert him, jack. mebbe now ours ain't the first ship to come sailin' along an' the others gave up any idea o' landin' in the ditch, so he's getting a bit desperate--an' hungry as all get out in the bargain. must a'been three days since he was reported missin' you remember, partner." jack apparently was not wholly convinced. it might not be so difficult a task to drop down successfully, but being able to come up again would be a horse of another color, he figured. then all at once he made his decision. "we'll go, perk--the stick if you please and stand by to lend a hand if it's needed when we make contact. i can see what looks like an inviting place in the water where we can use those dandy pontoons to advantage. ready for it?" they swung around once more and this time jack turned the nose of his craft directly at a slant so as to head for the spot where the pilot of the wrecked ship was running up and down in great excitement, still flinging his signal of distress back and forth. but when he saw that they were actually starting to drop below the majestic walls of the wonderful canyon as though bent on endeavoring to assist him, he stopped short and stood there wringing his hands in what to jack was a rather peculiar way for a brave man to do. still, if he had been through a series of hard knocks, had perhaps even been seriously wounded in the crash of his boat, he might be close to distraction. anyway theirs must be the job of ascertaining the truth and afterwards doing all they could to afford him relief, though his plane might be beyond remedy and would have to be abandoned. now they were approaching the bottom of that rocky canyon--the walls towered above like grim cliffs or battlements, forged by nature to protect the stream that swept through the enormous gorge. it seemed to perk, as he shot one thrilling look upward, as though they were a mile high and that everything around them was mightily magnified--all save the river itself, together with the stranded ship and the figure standing there watching their coming so eagerly, so filled with freshly risen hope. then contact was made between their wonderful pontoons and the surface of the colorado river and there they floated on the turbulent bosom of the stream. xiv jack makes a discovery while thus dropping down into the great wide canyon by easy stages, jack had taken note of several things, although not for a single second failing to keep tabs on his dials and the action of the ship when meeting certain baffling currents of air welling up from the depths and which might have played havoc with things only for this watchful, never-ceasing care on his part. first he became aware of the fact that the abyss was no longer subject to clear visibility--in fact, it would have been next to impossible for him to have made a decent contact with the river surface only that a sudden glow had started up as if by magic. it was a fire that helped to dissipate the gathering gloom in that particular spot and the one responsible for this welcome illumination must be the unknown aviator whose crate had been wrecked when falling into the vast sink with the gorgeously painted walls. evidently he must have gathered a few piles of dry driftwood so plentifully scattered along the banks of the river, and prepared a pyre to which a lighted match could be applied, a cheery blaze following. jack sensed all this even without distracting his attention from his work. at least this seemed to be proof that the unfortunate pilot had kept his wits about him, no matter what dire happenings might have come his way. the sun could not have set--of that jack felt certain--so the sudden lack of daylight in the vicinity of that deeply imbedded river must have been caused by the passing of some heavy cloud over the face of the sun. jack even remembered noticing a bank of clouds hanging close to the southwestern horizon for the last half hour and a favoring breeze coming up must have pushed them across, so as to form a lofty but effectual screen. no matter--nothing counted as long as the ship rested happily on the water with perk hastening to drop overboard a small but efficient anchor, such as would be apt to take up scant room aboard an amphibian, but prove invaluable on occasions like the present. this was only a part of perk's duties, however--when thus anchored the ship swung to and fro on its reliable pontoons but they were fully twenty feet distant from the sandy stretch beyond the river's edge. the current was anything but friendly and there was a strong possibility that the depth between the beach and the anchored boat would prove to be several feet, with perhaps pockets twice that, to judge from the way the water swirled in eddies. but all that had been considered when equipping the amphibian for service on land or water. of what avail would it be to have the pontoons so handy if, after coming down on some body of water, they must wade or swim in order to make a landing? perk was engaged in taking vast breaths into his capacious lungs and then blowing into some sort of queer rubber contraption which, expanding rapidly, presently assumed the proportions of a squatty little boat--nothing to boast of so far as appearances went, but capable, when fully blown up, of ferrying himself and his companion over the few yards of open water lying between themselves and their coveted landing place. without just such an auxiliary, the usefulness of a land and water aircraft must be considerably cut down, as pilots have long since ascertained from actual experience. just as had been the case of the folding anchor that, with the rubber boat took very little room until needed, it paid big dividends in comparison with the small amount of trouble it gave. the castaway air pilot was standing near by watching everything they did with the utmost eagerness. thus far he had not seen fit to call out, but his manner proved the intense interest he felt. jack waved his hand encouragingly to the other, even while perk was launching the clumsy rubber boat which proved to be so buoyant that it kept bobbing up and down with each movement of the speeding, gurgling current. the fire was now burning brightly so that the whole immediate vicinity seemed lighted up. jack involuntarily cast an inquisitive eye in the direction where the stranded ship lay with one wing dipping in the river. so familiar had long acquaintance with the various models of flying boats made jack, that as a rule it required only a single glance to tell him the make of any ship he was seeing for the first time. "a single-seat open-cockpit stinson-detroiter, if i know my onions," he was telling himself, "and i'll be hanged if i ever did know of the mail being carried in these days aboard one of those older types of craft. looks like it had been used more or less in the bargain. i understood, somehow or other, that buddy warner was using a cabin ship--but he might have changed over to this for some reason." still this fact was perhaps the entering wedge that started a dim suspicion in jack's mind so that after entering the small boat and having perk wield the dumpy paddle, he eyed the waiting figure of the wrecked pilot as if making some sort of decision. just then perk gave one of his queer grunts and in a husky whisper that barely reached the ears of his chum went on to say: "jack, would you b'lieve me, that there ain't our buddy a'tall--never did set eyes on this here youngster, for a fact. hot ziggetty dog! now ain't that the rottenest luck ever?" jack made no reply, but perk's discovery only justified the suspicion that had been forming in his own mind. then they had had their drop into the canyon all for naught--at least so far as the discovery of the missing air-mail pilot was concerned. true, the other was in something of a predicament, but he did not seem to be seriously injured and when another day dawned his need of assistance would surely be discovered by those connected with the big hotel, so that after all his troubles were only for a brief while. still, they had made the swoop and being on hand it would hardly seem decent and courteous for them to hold back, when possibly they could be of more or less help. this being the case, jack held his own counsel and made no answer to perk's show of disappointment that almost bordered on resentment he stepped out of the boat on to the sand when the bobbing craft grounded and waited for perk to toss the rope to him so their clumsy craft might not yield to the wooing of that treacherous current and pass down-stream, leaving the pair of them marooned. now that he found himself close to the stranger, jack could see that he appeared to be a mere wisp of a lad. his helmet was on his head, with the goggles pushed up, he wore what seemed to be almost new dungarees for they had a fresh appearance in startling contrast with those he and perk wore over their other clothes to take up all the grease and oil that of necessity must be met with aboard any ship that required a motor for propelling purposes. jack's first inclination was to decide the other must be one of those dudish young chaps who sometimes drift into the ranks of flying men. not at all weak or yellow when occasion arose to prove their stamina, but so constituted by nature that they can "carry on" and yet show little signs of the ordinary pilot's addiction to dirt. he stepped toward the other, leaving to perk the job of finding some means for securing the end of the rope, possibly to a stake driven into the sand or perhaps to the nearby wreck of the stinson-detroiter ship. "seems that you've had a little mishap, stranger," jack remarked with one of his pleasant smiles that always won him friends wherever he went. "if we can be of any assistance just call on us. it's a part of our creed, you know, for air pilots to stand by one another in difficulty. perhaps your boat may not be so badly smashed but what we can knock it into shape and get it up out of this queer old hole." he saw the boy drop the look of anxiety that had marked his face and even allow his features to relax in a smile. "i don't know how i can thank you for saying that--i am so eager to get out of this scrape, the worst that ever happened to me, but then i am something of a greenhorn pilot as yet, though even that fact couldn't keep me from trying my wings. i _must_ get out of this and be on my way again." and even as he listened to those pleading words, jack realized that the pilot of the crashed stinson-detroiter plane was a girl! xv the hand of fate it was a surprising discovery that jack had just made, but after all not so very wonderful. in these modern days a multitude of daring girls and young women were becoming air minded and filled with the ambition to become pilots. the fascination of such a life appealed to them with irresistible force so that already some of them had made a most creditable showing in the annals of aviation. for one thing the fact that the one he had offered to help had turned out to be a girl gave jack a twinge--he realized that more than ever he and perk would be obliged to "stick around," and endeavor to overcome her difficulties, if the disabilities of the wrecked plane could in any way be remedied. that was apt to mean a further delay in their work, a serious handicap, since already too much time had passed if there remained any further hope of finding poor buddy warner. "tell me, did you come through this crash without being seriously hurt yourself?" he asked her. perk must have made the same sudden discovery as jack for he was standing near by, staring hard at the novice pilot and with his mouth open. possibly perk also deplored the fact that their meeting with a woman flyer was bound to interfere more or less with those plans of his pal's which above all things concerned the need of speedy action, unhampered liberty of going where they willed and staying on the job steadily, come storm, fog, riotous wind or fair weather. "a few little bruises seems to be the extent of my injuries--next to nothing, i assure you, but if they were ten times as serious it would not keep me from going up again, if my ship were workable--indeed, it is absolutely necessary for me to do so!" jack looked at her again. most assuredly she did have the necessary stamina required of a successful air pilot. he did not believe any ordinary peril could deter such a girl from attempting what she had planned. "i am glad to know that you were not badly hurt, he told her, but it's plain to be seen you must have handled your stick cleverly or your ship would have crashed ten times as hard as it did. the first thing to be done is for us to check the craft over and learn the extent of the damage. if, luckily, it happens to be but a broken wing, possibly we can fix it up well enough to get the boat out of this fearful hole. however did it happen you picked out this place to come down in, or was it just by a rare chance? you could not have found as good a landing-field inside of a hundred miles i reckon, miss." she smiled at hearing him address her by that title, since it was the first real evidence that he understood the situation. "i suppose it was partly luck," she told him simply, "although i did have an idea it would be a hundred per cent better to fall on what looked like a sandy shore down here, than take chances with those terrible rocks up above. just what i did and how i landed so easily, i'm not at all certain about, but heaven was kind and yet i hope never to find myself in the same bad fix again. did you say you would take a look at my ship and find out what's wrong? it's kind of you to go to all that trouble, but i must get out of this as soon as possible--oh! i surely must!" jack could not help being struck with the way she said this, with her pretty sun and wind-tanned face taking on a determined, resolute expression. he would not have been human to thus hear and see without beginning to wonder what is could be that influenced her to speak so. why should she show such a yearning for a chance to continue her flight? what genuine reason could a girl have for such an overwhelming desire for action? was there any sort of endurance race on the books for women pilots who had recently obtained their necessary flying licenses--or was it some sort of a private wager that caused her to betray so much solicitude? would he and perk be justified in holding over so as to get her started, granting that her ship could be put in condition again by means of their combined knowledge and ability along those lines? somehow, when he looked keenly into her face, he failed to discover the faintest trace of guile thereon. once convinced of this fact, jack threw every suspicion to the four winds and came to the conclusion that both duty and the natural chivalry in his nature compelled him to do all that was possible to aid a fellow pilot in distress. "perk, suppose you tote that painter up to the ship here and fasten it. we've got a little job on our hands for i've promised this young lady to check up and learn how badly her boat has been wrecked. by the way miss, you haven't so far told us your name--mine happens to be jack ralston and this is my partner, perk--gabe perkiser in full." "and mine is suzanne cramer--one of the newcomers in the ranks of women air pilots. it hasn't been so long since they gave me my license, after i'd done my full allowance of solo flying. this is my own ship--i bought it secondhand, but in perfect condition. until today i have never had any trouble but the engine started to miss and i knew i must land or crash dreadfully. please see if there's any hope for my getting out of this place soon, for it means everything in the world to me." jack saw that suspicious old bachelor, perk give him a solemn look and wink his left eye, just as though he distrusted the wisdom of their wasting precious minutes trying to help a flighty little girl pilot, evidently on some sort of a silly lark and making out that it was a most important matter indeed--as most girls always do, according to his limited knowledge. thereupon jack shook his head at scoffing perk, knowing as he did how the other was inclined to be a woman-hater. "come on perk, now that you've made our ferry secure let's get busy and see what's what here. you take the off wing and i'll look over the near one, then we can double-up on the engine and reach a conclusion. it won't take us long, perk and it's a duty every decent pilot owes to his class, remember." "okay boss, jest as you say, i'm willin'; but all the same it looks to me like it'd turn out to be a bum job. that old bus has been given some hard knocks an' won't tune up worth a red cent." the girl thereupon uttered a little pitiable moan that influenced jack to turn a bit sternly upon his pal and say quickly: "no snap judgment perk! you never can tell how badly things are until you give them the first over. come on now, partner i know you well enough to be sure you'll give an honest verdict, no matter what comes." "sure thing, jack--my dad taught me to 'hew straight to the line, let the chips fall where they will'--that's been the perkiser motto right along, an' see where it carried us as a family. got one uncle sheriff o' a county in kansas an' another at the head o' a hot dog emporium, which is goin' some, i want you to know." the girl looked as though amused at perk's quaint way of saying things but that anxious, eager expression quickly came upon her face again. for some little time the pair rummaged around and seemed to act as though they both knew their business, as well as the makeup of any plane ever conceived by the human mind. perk knocked on this and that, made all manner of little tests where he believed were necessary, and in other ways carried himself as befitted by education and calling to be a judge of an airship's anatomy. she followed them about, always intently watching and squeezing her hands in a way to show how wrought up she must be with the suspense. then, when they were through with the inspection and checking up, jack and perk "went into a huddle," as the latter would have termed it, nodding their heads and talking in low tones. finally jack was shoved forward by the other as the one who ought to bring the sad tidings to the distressed girl pilot. "oh! you have something dreadful to tell me," she cried out, wringing her hands. "is it too badly wrecked for you to fix up so i can pull out of this awful hole and take off again?" "i'm sorry to say, miss cramer," jack told her, "your boat is so badly knocked out that it can never be taken out of this place by its own power. it will, i fear, have to be dismantled and carried up piece-meal, to be shipped to the company's works for rebuilding." she put up her quivering hands to her face and started crying. "oh! it is terrible--just _terrible_, when he needs me so! three days have passed already, and i felt that if any one could find him surely love would show me the way. what will poor mother warner say when she fails to hear from me as i promised? poor mother, and poor buddy. what will happen to us all?" xvi suzanne insists what seemed to be the whole truth flashed into jack's mind when he heard the grieving girl pilot express the sentiments that influenced her into making this far-flung flight so soon after winning her new pilot's license. it staggered him, too--not so much that suzanne should thus turn out to be buddy warner's sweetheart, though in itself that was decidedly interesting; but to think how a strange and perverse fate had so decreed that she should meet up with the pair who had been deputized by the department at washington to start forth, and do everything in their power to solve the mystery of buddy's strange disappearance, also, _if possible_, accomplish his finding. as for perk, who apparently had seen a great light all of a sudden, just as jack had done, almost "threw a fit." he declared later on, when he could ponder, how many thousand chances there were against anything like this lucky meeting coming to pass. jack, chancing to let his gaze wander that way, could see perk staring with round eyes at the inspired face of the brave girl. he also feebly scratched his head with slow movements, just as if his wits had gone astray under the shock. "can it be possible, suzanne," stammered jack, grinning amiably the while, "that you happen to be----er, buddy's _sweetheart_--what you might call his 'best girl'?" she regarded him with an encouraging smile, and nodded her head, forgetting to cry, as though something in his way of saying this bade her hug fresh hope to her heart. "why, yes, most certainly i am--we expected to be married in another three months--buddy's got the dear little cottage on the way, and everything was planned--and then came that dreadful news telling how he was lost somewhere among these awful mountains. my ship was being repaired, for i had had a slight accident in making too fast a landing on rough ground, and it took nearly two days for those slow poke mechanics to get it checked up again--two frightful days that i never want to live again. then i hopped off, and came here, for the boys at the flying field told me just where he must have gone down, you know. perhaps it was a crazy thing to do--they tried to persuade me to give it up, but i had promised mother warner to find him--and what was the use of my being a full-fledged air pilot if i had to stay a _kiwi_--stick to the ground, when my buddy needed me so?" "still, it was an unwise thing for you to have done, though nobody could blame you, because buddy was well worth taking chances for. but, you must have realized there would be scores of skillful pilots on the job, every one bent on finding your boy, if it lay in human power. my pal and i are in the employ of uncle sam--taken off all other business, and set to making a wide search--we have come all the way from cheyenne, through the worst fog bank that ever was known, just for that purpose, which makes it seem doubly strange how we should have been brought in contact with you, miss cramer." she smiled through her tears, and then went on hastily to say: "i can only think it was providence answering the prayers i have been sending up ever since the dreadful word came to us there in our little town, that buddy has put on the map. oh! i am sure the way was opened up to me--that now you know who and what i am, you could not have the heart to leave me here while you took up the search i had dedicated myself to carry out!" jack evidently could give a pretty shrewd guess as to what lay back of her words--she undoubtedly meant to implore them to let her accompany them in their hunt. so he scratched his chin in a way he had when placed in a dilemma--perk, saw him do that and understood how matters stood; for he grinned shamelessly, as though it actually tickled him to see his best pal placed in such a hole, with no way out save in yielding. "er--much as i--we, that is--would like to oblige you, miss cramer--i'm afraid it would be impossible. we belong to a department of the government that frowns on our mixing up what they call business with pleasure. they set us on this job, and that means we've got to take off without any more delay than we can possibly help--i'm sure you'll understand what i mean." perk grinned some more, just as if he had an idea his usually dependable pal hardly knew himself what he was aiming at. the girl novice pilot looked grieved, and then brightened up. "but--what's to become of _me_ then--you surely wouldn't be so mean as to leave me here in this dreadful hole all night--i'd go out of my mind with thinking every little sound meant that some ferocious wild beast was creeping up on my fire, ready to make a meal of me; which of course would be rough, after all those fierce lessons in the air, and actually getting my pilot's license after all. and besides, i did really and truly promise ma warner i'd find buddy, and fetch him back home with me." jack looked at her entreating face, gave a glance at the grinning perk, drew a long breath, shrugged his shoulders with the air of saying in desperation: "that's that then; and what are you going to do about it, when a young woman sets you on a red-hot gridiron like that." there seemed nothing to do but capitulate, and make the best of a bad bargain. after all it was not as if they could find no room for suzanne--she was such a little thing, and besides their new cloud-chaser was capable of carrying a weight almost twice the amount of the present cargo, gas and all. "all right, then, miss cramer, we'll take you with us when we start out of here," he told her, allowing himself to shut off his feeling of near dismay, and actually smiled again in his accustomed way. "oh! thank you so much--jack," she told him, with sincerity in both voice and manner. "i promise not to give you the least trouble, and perhaps i could make myself useful sooner or later, especially if we _do_ find my buddy, and he--should be badly injured, so as to need a nurse's care--for you see i was on my way to be a trained nurse when i got air-minded, and set out to be a flyer, so sometimes i might go with buddy." "but this will mean we must all of us remain here in the great canyon for the night," he reminded her. "but that would be wasting many hours, and he needing me so much," she complained, with a pitiful look that made jack regret his inability to start right off and be doing. "listen, please," he said, gently but firmly, "you can see by looking up that the sun has set, and night is creeping out--already down in this deep hole it's next to impossible for any one to see what might lie in the way; so that makes it too risky to try and pull out. i'd like as not wreck my ship by running up against a snag in the water, or a stray boulder on the shore. whether we took you with us or not i'd made up my mind to stick it out here for the night." "yes," here broke in perk, who evidently thought he was due to "butt in" and have his little say, "and besides, even if we did manage to make the riffle without bustin', what could we do knockin' around in the dark--just a sheer waste o' good gas, an' gettin' nowhere a'tall." since it was now two against one, and they both seemed so kind, suzanne wisely gave in. "you've convinced me, jack, and i'll say no more," she told him sweetly; "but do you know i haven't had a bite to eat for ever so long; though ma did make me take aboard enough rations to feed a regiment, including tea and coffee, as well as an assortment of pots and pans." perk immediately betrayed fresh interest in life, for it was wonderful how the fellow brightened up, as though just then realizing that he himself must be perilously close to starvation. "we'll help you get them out o' the bus, lady," he hastened to say; "if so be you'll kindly show us where they be--ain't that so, partner?" jack did not seem at all averse to such a proceeding--why not make things as pleasant as possible since a capricious fate had thrown their fortunes together in this mad way? "suppose you attend to all that, perk," he told the other, knowing how efficient his partner was along such lines; "while you're doing it under miss cramer's directions i'll take another look at her crate, and see just how we can drag it further back from the river, so it will be safe when we're gone." xvii the camp in the canyon things immediately began to happen, and for the time being amidst the excitement of showing perk just where the stores and things were located aboard the stranded stinson-detroiter, miss cramer seemed to temporarily forget the load of trouble she was carrying on her little shoulders. indeed, as jack had already sized her up, she was rather a remarkable sort of a girl--so sensible, so level-headed, and truly brave in the bargain. under such a heavy strain he felt certain ninety-nine girls out of a hundred would have given way to their helplessness, and collapsed; but here this one had taken her courage in both hands, to set out in the expectation of accomplishing a task that thus far had baffled a score or more of the greatest aviation aces the country had ever known. soon the energetic perk had landed everything in the line of eatables and such truck as ma warner--bless her dear old heart, perk was saying to himself as he noted what a volume of good stuff lay in the mound he had erected--had denuded her pantry in order that her beloved boy should have enough to keep starvation at bay, when suzanne had eventually found him. it was almost ludicrous to jack to learn with what abiding faith those two who loved buddy so well had lost no time in starting the lone expedition on its way; just as though they fully expected suzanne, now a full-fledged pilot, and feeling able to conquer the world, could be attracted to the very spot where buddy lay helpless, by the spark of true love--to them it must be like the magnetic needle, always pointing so faithfully straight at the north pole, and the star that hung over it. "bless her heart"--jack was telling himself later on, as he listened to her talking so cheerfully, while busying herself in cooking the supper, with perk attending to the fire, and offering to help in "any old way." "she wouldn't have had a tinker's chance to do anything in this wild rocky country--only have her own crate crash, and double the tragedy. so it's lucky for them both we made this same queer contact tonight." jack was certainly vastly amused to watch how his cranky chum seemed to be acting. usually perk would have little or nothing to do with the other sex--jack strongly suspected that at some time in his misty past perk might have been "turned down" by some girl in whom he was becoming interested, and so allowed his whole life to be soured by the experience. but then this was different, and perhaps the affection he had once felt for buddy warner made him feel warmly toward a girl who adored the same chubby young flyer and who had forgotten her weakness as a newly fledged pilot, and struck out so boldly in hopes of finding the one who was lost. the supper was voted a great success, especially by perk, who drank innumerable cups of hot coffee, which he pronounced "nectar for the gods," growing a bit poetical in his exalted state of happiness. suzanne, too, proved herself to be a wonderful cook, and perk found himself quite envying buddy--that is, if he was ever really found, and alive in the bargain--in having such a good helpmate and life partner to prepare wonderful meals for him every day in the year. afterwards he and jack set about the job of dragging the single-seater stinson-detroiter something like forty feet back from the edge of the river, where it could stay until later on, when suzanne might find a chance to visit the scene again, or send mechanics to dismantle her ship, and pack the parts back to the factory for reassembling. she even wrote something on a sheet of paper, which latter was attached to the wreck, and would doubtless serve to keep any curious tourists from damaging her property. so, too, she made up a small package of certain articles which she wished particularly to save, or would be apt to need for her personal comfort which, she assumed, might be taken with them on the coming voyage. "in the morning," said jack, after all these things had been attended to, "i'm meaning to ask you to let us transfer what gas you have aboard your bus to our own tank--it will be wasted here, while in our hands it may save us from spending many valuable hours running off to replenish our wasted supply. of course i shall see that you are eventually reimbursed, miss cramer. even as little as fifty gallons would mean we could stick to our job so much longer, and then too it might be the means of bringing us success." "and if i had a million gallons every drop would be gladly devoted to the sacred task you have so loyally undertaken," she told him, with a suspicious glow in her eyes, which jack imagined might be caused by bravely repressed tears. "i think it is just wonderfully fine the way you two--and all those other brave men--have been so willing to spend their time, hour after hour, scouring the whole country in hopes of finding--my buddy." so jack had to tell her how the entire world of flyers were like a company of blood brothers; an injury to one being resented by the entire calling--that their universal braving of the elements, and meeting similar perils in their daily work, made a bond like no other on earth, a kinship of like interests. she was as yet only a novice, but already she had begun to have something of a similar exalted feeling toward other air pilots, so that it was not difficult for suzanne to understand his meaning. she told them not to worry about her--that she could easily make herself comfortable in the limited confine of her cockpit. true, it had no roof for shelter; but that bothered her not at all she told them, since she had camped many times in the open without even a canvas tent, or brush shanty; and besides, the stars were shining brightly overhead, showing they need fear nothing in the way of bad weather during the night. perk again assured himself that she was a mighty sensible and clear-headed little girl, and that if there were only more like her, perhaps--well, there couldn't be, and besides he'd never have the chance to run across any of that class--it just wouldn't be his good luck. it was something to make jack look back to that same evening for years to come. he as well as perk had spent many a night in camp, when on fishing trips, or it might be hunting hikes up in the big woods; but no other camp could have such a royal setting as this one did. the lofty walls running up as if to touch the star-decked sky, and as they knew full well that with those vivid colors making a nature painting beyond all imagination, that the loud song of the happy river flowing through the greatest gorge in all the wide world, that the blazing campfire, throwing up soaring sparks seemed like bright messengers of hope to suzanne as she sat there drinking it all in. it filled to the brim the longings connected with the missing air mail pilot. then, too, there was present that air of eternal mystery such as would be apt to brood over the spot where ages back the zuni, and other indian tribes, had lived in those quaint stone houses still to be found all through the hundred miles of the colorado canyon. perk knew very well that as a rule there was no danger from wild animals--that frequently parties made it a point to spend at least one night camping in the canyon, just to say they had gone through such a weird experience; and he had never heard of them being disturbed by man or beast. just the same, with this glorious chance opening up to him, perk was persuaded to imagine himself constituted as the sole guardian of the fine girl aviatrix, into whose company they had so strangely fallen. then, too he welcomed the opportunity to again handle that sub-machine-gun, which had been placed in his possession by the government at the time he and jack were running down the smuggling ring leaders on the florida coast, and a return of which had never thus far been demanded by the authorities. jack realized what was in the mind of his chum when he saw perk looking over that powerful weapon with infinite joy; and while he did not imagine for a minute that there would arise any chance for requiring its services, still, since it afforded romantic perk a good excuse for posing as a vigilant sentry, jack held his peace, taking it out by giving his pal a few significant sly winks, to which the other deigned to take no notice whatsoever. neither of them knew what arrangements suzanne had made for sleeping in the limited confines of her cockpit; but she bade them goodnight, and climbed aboard with the greatest nonchalance imaginable, as though this thing of camping out under all manner of inconveniences might be an old story with her, as indeed jack thought was more than probable. xviii the vigilant guard it had been arranged between jack and his mate that it would be just as well for them to fetch their blankets ashore and settle down on the sand for the remainder of the night. in the first place, jack thought it would not look very nice if they went aboard their anchored amphibian and left poor suzanne there alone. although she had not mentioned the matter at all, he felt sure it had given her a few qualms and that in her mind she really hoped they might decide to camp there by the fire. then again it would add to the girl's peace of mind, should she chance to be lying awake, unable to lose herself because of the haunting fears connected with the mystery of buddy's fate, to raise her head and look around to always find that cheery fire blazing, dispersing the gloom in the immediate vicinity. last of all neither of them was so fond of doubling up and trying to forget their bodily discomforts aboard their crate, that they could afford to pass up a golden opportunity to sleep on solid ground, though to be sure they were able to make the best of anything when duty bound. so perk went aboard by means of their ferry and returned with both dingy gray blankets as well as something to serve as pillows, since they had never made it a point to travel with such "soft stuff" as perk always scornfully termed them. "you turn in whenever you feel like it, boss," perk had said with a grin. "i'm not a bit sleepy, it happens an' 'sides i jest feel like havin' another whiff or two--somehow this 'baccy seems sweeter to me than i ever knowed it to be." "it should," jack told him, and evidently there must have been a significant emphasis attached to those two words to make perk look so queer and finally grin in a most ridiculous way like a boy caught robbing the jam jar or the cookey pot, and at a loss to explain the situation. accordingly jack rolled himself up in his covers, fixed his head rest to suit his own notion, turned his back on the blazing fire and lost all interest in everything saving getting his fair quota of slumber. perk sat there and smoked three pipes one after the other. then feeling a little draught of cool air on his back he dragged his blanket to him, wrapped it around his form, and gun across his knees, continued to sit with his back against a big boulder he had rolled down the sandy stretch for some purpose or other. he continued to sit there like one of the sentries they say were found at their posts when the ruins of herculaneum were cleared of the accumulated ashes of centuries, close to the grim old volcano. proving how in those military days a soldier stuck to his post though the heavens might fall upon him. twice perk got up, threw an armful of fuel on the dying fire, smoked a round of that "sweet" tobacco, cast a look of concern over toward where the stranded plane lay, shook his head doggedly and resumed his former position alongside the big boulder. apparently he had resolved to stay on duty throughout the entire night, and since perk had a vein of doggedness in his disposition the chances were he would stick to his guns. perk may not have noticed it, but more than few times his chum's covering would move just a trifle, allowing him to peep out and on each occasion jack would chuckle as if vastly entertained, after which it was sleep again for him. midnight came and went. stars shone down upon the lonesome camp, gradually wheeling westward until each in turn passed beyond the lofty rim of the canyon walls while others climbed the eastern heavens to take their turn at peeping and eventually follow the track of those who were by that time doubtless setting beyond the genuine western horizon. it must have been something like two in the morning when perk waking up from a disturbed nap, in which he was beset by a pack of savage timber wolves with only a stout cudgel as a means of defense, caught a sound that sent a delightful quiver chasing up and down his spine. "by gum! what was _that_ now?" he asked himself, at the same time moving the gun from his knee to a more elevated position. his tingling nerves announced the delight that filled his heart in contemplation of a possible chance to show how he could play guardian to a camp where innocence slept. suddenly awakened from such a wild dream, perk was in fine condition to see a pack of ferocious, gray, hungry, four-footed pirates of the waste places creeping up here, there, everywhere, with the intention of taking the camp by strategy and devouring every solitary inmate. his fire happened to be low so that the light even close by could hardly be called worth while. again perk caught some sort of sound--to his excited mind it seemed similar to an animal's nails scratching the dry sand just at that point where the high river tide was wont to reach its peak during the flood season. perk redoubled his efforts to see something moving while he nervously fingered his modern shooting iron, so radically different from those old guns used by the pioneer settlers of the virgin west in the early days of the far-flung frontier. now his quivering changed its character to certainty and rapture. most surely he had caught a fleeting glimpse of some object that was slowly and cautiously creeping up toward the slumbering campfire. a wolf--just one of the precious pack that had bothered him in his late dream--but then he had only himself to consider, whereas now it meant three separate human lives in peril. how his teeth gritted as he mentally called the slinking beast every opprobrious name he could think of, his finger meanwhile playing with the trigger that, once pulled, would start the long line of cartridges contained in the endless belt to discharging like a pack of firecrackers popping to commemorate the birthday of the good old u. s. a. yes, there could be no longer any doubt--he had not deceived himself after all, as he was beginning to suspect. now the thing had ceased to move and was starting to rise up on all four legs, as though to be in readiness to answer the call of the pack leader when it came time to charge. "it's goodbye to you, sneaker and robber on four legs!" muttered perk grimly as he put the butt of the gun up to his shoulder, covered the half seen figure, and pressed the trigger. a burst of firing instantly followed as the mechanical gun commenced to bombard the particular spot where perk had discovered the first of the oncoming pack. the reports came thick and fast, following on each others' heels and so it would continue to the end of the string unless perk himself stopped the mechanism. by the time he had thrown half a dozen leaden messengers at that one point, he felt he had effectually rid the world of one thief and marauder for which he should have the thanks of every decent person. then perk started to swing his arm from left to right, fully anticipating seeing a host of monster companions of his initial victim bounding forward and coming within range of the line of fire from his still spitting machine gun. nothing of the sort greeted his astonished eyes--in fact there was not the first sign of a single monster raider--only jack indignantly bawling him out and demanding to know what in the devil he meant arousing the entire camp with such a racket, and spoiling the rest of the night for sleep. so perk instantly shut off the deadly stream of fire that was expected to slay the whole pack of fiendish wolves as he swung his gun around with a circular movement. "whatever ailed you perk, to set that thing going like mad?" jack demanded, as he scrambled out of his enfolding blanket and advanced toward his chum, keeping a nervous eye on the gun meanwhile as if afraid perk, whom he believed had been dreaming, would start it going again. "wolves--heaps an' heaps o' 'em--dreamed they had me cornered, with on'y a club to hold the pack off--then i woke up, and sure as you live, they was acomin' right in on us--saw one whoppin' big feller right over yonder an' let him have the whole works. looky yourself jack--honest to goodness he's lyin' right there where i knocked him cold." jack gave him a laugh and hastened over to see for himself just how much truth there could be in what the other had said with so much earnestness. xix over-zealous perk "perk!" strangely enough, while the late sharpshooter had seemed so positive concerning the identity and present status of his victim, he had not displayed the eagerness one might reasonably expect in such a sturdy guardian of the camp, to follow at jack's heels. "yeah! what is it, old hoss?" he now asked, keeping one eye on the cockpit of the nearby stinson-detroiter, under the belief he saw a slight movement there, as though the girl pilot had been suddenly awakened from her sound slumber and was peeping out to ascertain the cause of the late terrific bombardment. "come over here and see your monster timber wolf," jack was saying. perk shrugged his shoulders, as though some dim suspicion of the truth might be already knocking at the door of his valiant heart, but since there was nothing else to be done he stiffened up and walked with soldierly tread to where jack ominously awaited his coming. "there he lies, fairly riddled," the other was saying, pointing as he thus greeted the arrival of the vigilant one. "he never had a chance to even give a single peep after you opened up on him--must have imagined yourself away back again on that argonne front and sending another hun ship down wrapped in flames, eh perk?" "huh! he don't look _quite_ as big as i guessed he was," admitted the now contrite marksman, beginning to weaken. "mebbe i wasted too many slugs on the onery critter--sorter shot him to pieces you might say." jack laughed and perk started, under the belief that evidences of feminine amusement drifted out of their cockpit close by as though suzanne understood, and was not only interested but highly entertained in the bargain. "that's a good one partner, for you sure _did_ knock spots out of the poor little yellow sap--chances are he followed some party down here yesterday, got to hunting around on his own hook, and missed them when they started up angel trail. then he discovered the light of your fire here and hoping he'd run upon real friends who'd toss him a scrap of meat, was crawling up to investigate when you blasted him with that fierce volley. poor confiding little beast, a victim of mistaken identity." "migosh, a prairie dog!" muttered the astonished and mortified perk, gazing ruefully down at the huddled mess before him, not too plainly seen on account of the fire flashing up only fitfully, being in need of more fuel. "it's all right, perk old man," soothed jack, knowing just how mean his chum must be feeling, with that unseen girl a witness to his upset and her low gurgles of laughter coming distinctly to their ears in the bargain, "your intentions were okay, and you certainly did pot him neatly. no danger of any poacher stealing from a camp where you've taken up your post as sentry. that vivid dream you mentioned must have got on your nerves and when you discovered a moving figure, naturally enough your first thought was of sneaking four-footed mountain wolves about to make a raid." "hot ziggetty dog! i sure must 'a' had the jimjams all right," chuckled perk, beginning to throw off that stupid feeling of being only half awake and even able to laugh at the joke on himself. "jack," said a merry, girlish voice just then, "tell your friend not to be worried about me. i've shot more than a few wolves and coyotes for i was born and brought up in the cow country you see. it's all right, perk, don't feel badly about it. i know it was just to stand up in my defense that made you so speedy on the trigger. only gave me a little scare until i guessed what it all meant. i'm going to sleep some more, though it's a hard job to get buddy's frightful predicament out of my mind." "and perk," said jack, throwing an arm affectionately across the shoulders of his mate, "you turn this job over to me now and get a few winks before morning comes creeping along out of the east over there to start us on our way again. i'll sit right here, holding your old cannon and woe to the wolf, coyote or even another yellow cur that dares to sneak in on us." so after all perk was not feeling so very badly on account of his fiasco, though it did make him grimace to remember that those bright eyes of buddy's best girl had been an amused witness to his humiliation. he did not say another word, but humbly handed over the sub-machine-gun to his companion and dropped down near the fire upon which he had tossed a fresh supply of fuel. secretly he was meaning to be up at peep of day before suzanne would be stirring, in order to drag the victim of his fusilade some distance away from their camp so that her curious eyes might not be offended by sight of the wreck of a little harmless prairie dog. the balance of that wonderful night, spent alongside the colorado in the famous canyon of the painted walls, passed without a single thing happening to further disturb them. in the east, where the mountain peaks made a ragged horizon, the first faint fingers of pink were commencing to streak the low heavens when jack saw his chum moving off toward the spot where lay the victim of his deadly aim. he instinctively understood what perk was aiming to do and on that account refrained from calling out or otherwise taking any notice of his being abroad. when perk came back ten minutes later and washed his hands down at the river brink, jack only chuckled, as though it tickled him to notice how the flinty-hearted perk--only with regard to his indifference toward all female persons--had discovered that there might still be a few--not many, perhaps--girls who were sincere and loyal to the one to whom they had pledged their hearts--lucky buddy warner, with all this uncertainty regarding his fate--at the worst there would be _some one_ to always mourn his passing. on came the day, and perk busied himself in getting a good cooking fire going, remembering what a delicious supper the girl had prepared on the preceding evening; and his mouth now fairly watering with hopes of another turn at that royal ambrosia which some people without sentiment will call plain "coffee." suzanne presently joined them, after washing her pretty face down at the running water, which was icy cold, and most refreshing indeed. then she busied herself at the fire, ordered the meek and obedient perk around after the manner of most petty and pretty kitchen tyrants; but the fine odors that were soon filling the rarified air buoyed up perk's spirits wonderfully and he raised no rebellion. and the breakfast to which they soon sat down was just as delicious as fancy had pictured; indeed, the only thing amiss so far as the ravenous perk could discover was the fact that it might give out before all of them had had a sufficiency. "now, let's get busy transferring that gas to our tank, perk," jack observed, as they finally arose. "we'll have to get our boat up on the shore, you observe--a case of mahomet going to the mountain--let's go, partner." this was not so difficult as it might seem; for the sandy shore was shelving, and once jack gave her the gun the amphibian literally "walked up" to where they wanted her to be, alongside the stinson-detroiter plane. perk produced a length of small rubber tubing, and made use of it as a siphon. once the gasoline was started, by suction--perk attended to that part by sucking the air all out, and getting a mouthful of liquid to pay him for his trouble, which he ejected with a grimace--it continued to flow until the tank aboard the amphibian was plumb full. "i can scare up several five-gallon empty tins," suggested the wise perk, "that might be filled, and stowed away somewhere--that would give us a reserve stock, plenty i guess to carry us to the nearest supply base in case our tank went dry." "a mighty good idea, boy," was jack's comment, he being glad to see how the other was recovering from his late depression. they finally had everything settled--suzanne had put up her little "sign," to let curious-minded folks wandering that way know who owned the abandoned crate, and that it was to be let absolutely alone until she came to salvage it. then, too, she had made up her little package of "essentials," which she meant to take along when they zoomed off to start the real search for lost buddy warner. as they settled down in their places, room having been found for the girl pilot, suzanne waved her hand a bit sadly toward her impotent crate, as though certain high hopes she had been entertaining were now fallen in ruins; then she smiled again, watching closely to see jack gripping the stick and letting in the gas to the attendant spark, when they were off. xx an unsubdued spirit backed by plenty of daylight there was no difficulty at all experienced in mounting. the sand was packed quite hard as sometimes happens at the seashore, particularly in highly favored localities like down at daytona beach on the eastern coast of florida, where the speed races are run every season. after the wheels contained in the aluminum pontoons left the ground not a single obstacle stood in the way of their climbing steadily upward, until presently they could look out over the sweep of rough country surrounding that strangest of all dame nature's trick pictures--the colorado canyon. jack had his plans all laid out, built upon his charts, and the general fund of knowledge gleaned from some of the newspaper accounts that he had kept by him; after shuffling the pack, and discarding all unsupported versions as unreliable guides for stranger air pilots to go by. having set the course jack had perk handle the stick, for it was his intention to have a good talk with suzanne, something he had not managed to accomplish thus far. she understood just what he had in mind when he took up one end of the earphone harness, and made motions; for the racket was too fierce to think of trying to make his ordinary speaking voice heard--indeed, she had already shown a certain amount of curiosity concerning the apparatus, possibly knowing what it was intended for, although never herself having as yet had occasion to make use of such a means of communication when in flight. he soon had the straps adjusted to suit her small head, and then proceeded to arrange his own end. his main purpose was far from being connected with anything like curiosity, for somehow he had a faint hope something she could tell him might open up a line of reasoning, and produce a live clue, which was just what was lacking in his plans. "i'm meaning to ask you some questions, miss cramer," he went on to say; "in hopes that you may be able to give me some little valuable hint; for up to now everybody must be working more or less in the dark. you see, all that's known to be positive is that buddy took off from a certain station where he delivered some important mail, picked up a local sack, and then took off at a specified hour and minute. after that he was not heard from again--failed to show up at either of the succeeding stations, and was awaited in vain at the end of his run. "for a time nothing much was thought of his delay in turning up; because of any one of several things that might have held him back--fog, head winds, or some trifling trouble compelling him to make a forced landing, which in this dreadful country of rocks and gullies among mountain peaks usually is attended by serious difficulties, especially the getting off again when the trouble has been attended to." then he went on to tell her what he had deducted, after carefully getting the gist of what all the newspaper men had discovered up to within twenty-four hours of the present time; the deeply interested girl listening eagerly, and occasionally nodding her head, as though quite agreeing with his reasoning. "now," jack went on to say--after bringing his story down to where he and perk had received their orders from washington, took off, butted against a most tenacious fog belt, and finally brought up at the canyon, where they made her acquaintance--"tell me please, when and how you first heard that buddy was missing, if it would not be too painful a recital." "oh! that will not keep me from speaking," she hastened to say, trying bravely to keep the tears from dimming her eyes: "nothing could be too painful for me to endure if only it works to _his_ good in the end. we read the dreadful news in the daily paper that comes to ma warner's home every morning, it being mailed in the big city not a hundred miles away. she always hunts up the aviation column the very first thing. why not, when she has an only son who is known as an experienced and reliable air-mail pilot and also knows that she is going to have a second ambitious flyer in the family soon, if all goes well, and i find buddy. "of course we were very apprehensive, what with the neighbors running in to sympathize, and cheer us up. later on that same day a reporter from the very paper in which we read the first news about buddy, turned up, having motored over across country, eager to pick up enough interesting facts at the humble home of buddy's anxious mother to make a thrilling story for his editor. "they have been saying some very kind things about our buddy since he disappeared so suddenly and mysteriously. he was one of the best liked air-pilots in the whole corps, i read again and again; and oh! what a thrill it gave us both to realize how he was even being compared to lindbergh himself. could anything be said to make a mother's heart thrill more with joy--or that of buddy's best girl also? "to be sure," she went on, with a winsome little smile, "he had never done anything great, to make him famous, in the way of wonderful stunts, or long perilous flights over wide oceans, and such, but every one seemed to know how his heart has always been wrapped up in the cause of aviation, and that he would be willing to lay down his very life if by doing so he could advance the day when flying will be much safer than going by train or boat." jack soon realized that there was no hope of learning anything from this source capable of opening up a promising line of thought. suzanne was only too eager to tell everything she knew, but after all it amounted only to an exhibition of her affection. how she conceived the madcap idea of herself starting out, "only a half-baked pilot" she called herself in humiliation, just hoping that something--she knew not what, for it would have to be in the nature of a near miracle, as jack very well knew--would have to come along to draw her to where her buddy must be lying, waiting and praying for needful aid. jack knew very well, although not for worlds would he have hinted at such a thing in her hearing, that since three full days had by this time gone by, poor buddy must long since have passed on. unless of course some good samaritan had found him where he lay injured and perhaps starving, and taken him in charge. a happy accident like this was one chance in a thousand because of the uninhabited wilderness. she had pictured the old mother striving to believe god would surely keep her boy safe in the hollow of his omnipotent hand, so that jack had to wink pretty fast in order not to let her see the tears in his own eyes--such confidence and assurance was really beautiful; and for one thing it caused jack to resolve more than ever to let no ordinary obstacle daunt him--for the sake of that fond mother and this courageous if ill-advised young lady who just refused to yield to despondency even when the skies looked most gloomy, and hope hung by just a slender shred. "depend upon it, miss cramer," he told her, gently, after he realized that nothing was to be gained by pressing her with further questioning; "both perk and myself are booked in this game, and we mean to leave no stone unturned in trying to find buddy. others who are engaged in the search will make all manner of sacrifices too. so great is the warmth of feeling for that faithful mother who is forced to stay at home, and leave the sacred task to strangers. if concerted effort is able to accomplish anything we'll succeed; if all our efforts fail us, you must try and believe it is for some wise purpose which we cannot see with the weak human eyes." she looked at him with an expression that made jack realize how much of her confident spirit was make believe--that deep down in her sensible heart she knew very well what terrific chances there were against success coming to reward their efforts--that much of this had been assumed in the hope of buoying up the falling hopes of that poor mother, left bereft of her only boy, the stay and pride of her aging years. he saw her clamp her white teeth together as if forcing herself to brush aside that sinking feeling, and show the old dauntless spirit that had thus far carried her safely through a sea of doubts and fears. when she spoke again it was with a ring in her voice that thrilled him to the core--he only wished he could take on a measure of that indomitable nature that would not give up. "but we'll find him," she was saying, slowly but fiercely; "i just know we will, that's all--his mother needs him, his only girl needs him, and we've _got_ to bring him back to his old home--alive, or--dead!" xxi combing the mountain-tops jack admitted to feeling a trifle disappointed when his talk with suzanne afforded no signs of a clue upon which to build a structure; although truth to tell he realized how almost absurd that hope had been. surely buddy's disappearance could hardly hinge upon anything that had ever taken place in his old home town--such a cheery, companionable lad could not have any enemies--suzanne had not hinted at such a thing as a jealous rival in the field, who might give way to wicked thoughts. no, the whole occurrence must be what everybody believed--a sheer accident, such as was liable to happen to any air pilot braving the elements day and night in the pursuit of his regular vocation. he had gone down, so now the only trouble was to locate the scene of his mishap and, as perk at another time had been heard to say "pick up the pieces," meaning no offense by such a remark. "if you don't mind," the girl was saying shortly afterwards, "i'd like very much to be allowed to use your glasses. i possess good vision, and perhaps the great stake i have in this search might make me argus-eyed indeed." "certainly you may make use of them," jack told her, reaching out to secure the binoculars, showing her how to work them to meet with the best results. "if you do happen to see something that excites your interest, just call our attention to it--sometimes two pair of eyes are better than one, you know, miss cramer." so she sat there, staring down as they moved swiftly through the realms of space; but not too swiftly. she seemed to be trying to cover all the ground possible, ever and anon lifting her gaze to sweep a look at more distant objects. again and again she would stop in her movements as if to concentrate her scrutiny upon one particular spot; jack, watching with sympathy filling his heart, could imagine how the poor girl must be suffering even though failing to show it. he would feel a spasm of eagerness on each occasion of special scrutiny only to lose it again as she continued her search of the grim countryside that was so bleak and so unpromising. meantime jack was keeping one eye on the lower heavens, with the expectation of sooner or later discovering some far distant moving object, that he would know must be some other air craft, doubtless engaged in the same mission of humanity and mercy that employed all their own efforts. it turned out that he had not held these expectations in vain, for along about the middle of the morning such a tiny blur was discovered far away, which grew somewhat larger as the minutes passed. upon calling the girl's attention to the moving object that to the unaided eye might just as well have been set down as a wheeling buzzard, she quickly pronounced it to be a plane, sweeping at a low altitude above the rocky mountain peaks, as though those aboard were scrutinizing the depths and heights that lay underneath, just as she had been doing. she cast frequent eager glances in that direction, while not allowing her interest in the wild terrain over which they continued to pass, to slacken. jack could detect a certain wistfulness in the way she watched, just as though she might be wishing them all the favors of heaven in meeting with success. the ship swung around, and went off in another direction, as though the pilot might be following out certain ideas of his own. while it was yet in plain sight, though growing fainter in the lower haze, she uttered a low cry, and said excitedly: "oh! look jack, look over in the north--another ship, and a cabin biplane at that. do you think they are working on the same lines as the rest of us?" jack reached out a hand for the binoculars, and took a good survey; after which he announced that everything seemed to point that way. "they're keeping low down, also moving quite slowly; and if on a regular flight they would be doing neither of those things, you understand. yes, and i have no doubt that within a hundred-and-fifty miles of this spot in every direction there are twenty--thirty such ships, large and small, with each pilot doing everything in his power to be the lucky one to find your buddy." she continued to observe the two planes as if lost in serious thought, to finally say with a little catch in her voice, for she still had the earphone harness attached to her head: "i wish them every success possible; for it does not matter who the lucky pilot is, every one of them will be remembered as long as i live. the only thing that counts is to find _him_--alive!" as if to emphasize the yearning that was in her heart the girl stretched out both hands toward the two distant ships; and there was something so pathetic in the mute action that neither of the other would ever forget. then, as though just as sanguine as ever she accepted the glasses from jack to continue scanning the ground they were passing over, hoping to sooner or later meet with a glorious success. jack himself was far from feeling the same enthusiasm--doubtless it was because of his superior knowledge of the vast difficulties staring them rudely in the face; then again he did not have that true love for buddy buoying him up, as was the case with suzanne. perk was thinking that since noon had rolled around it might be just as well that they munched a trifle of food, so as to conserve their strength, with a long task ahead of them, when once again the girl uttered a cry. perk not being equipped just then with ear-phones could not catch what she was saying so excitedly; but at least he was able to surmise its tenor--she had undoubtedly made some sort of discovery, for her face was marked by animation, and she kept pointing down toward some part of the rocky country, trying to direct jack's attention to it. perk saw his chum take the binoculars and follow up the particular line in which suzanne was pointing. long and earnestly did he stare, with her eager eyes glued on his face. then jack sadly shook his head, as if deciding in the negative. whatever it was she had seen to thus arouse false hopes his good sense told him it was not worthy of their further investigation. this naturally caused her to be bitterly disappointed, although she managed to bear up bravely, and even smiled whimsically--pitifully perk called it, for he was deeply interested in the wild search, and hoping with all his heart it might turn out successful, though his good sense and training told him only a near miracle could accomplish this. none of them seemed to have much appetite save perk, and that always hungry individual was never known to refuse an opportunity to treat his clamoring "tummy" to an extra meal--suzanne hardly touched a morsel and when jack tried to persuade her that she owed it to herself to eat, she shook her head and told him it would choke her if she did. then once more was the everlasting vigil resumed--indeed, while the others munched a snack the girl had kept the glasses almost constantly employed, as though under the conviction that if any slackening of her observation came about that might prove to be the undoing of the whole scheme--a chain is only as strong as its weakest link; and ten minutes relaxation in the way of covering the ground they were passing over might be fatal to their success. again about the middle of the afternoon she once more believed she saw something calling for a closer scrutiny. this time she was not so excited as on the previous occasion, possibly taking warning; but she pressed the binoculars on jack--perk still handling the controls--and directed his attention to what she believed was a smudge of smoke arising from amidst the side of a steep mountain where the rocks were piled up as though giants had been playing ten pins. once more did jack bend all his energies to figuring out what the smoke could mean; he disliked telling her it did not offer any real hope, for he could see that it was the end of a forest fire, such as may have been tailing up the long ravine for many days, and feeding on all manner of trash falling from the scraggy pinon trees that managed to cling to the otherwise bare walls. the poor forlorn girl broke down and cried bitterly when once more her hopes were dashed to the ground. perk shook his head, and gritted his teeth, for it greatly disturbed him to hear her weeping; jack tried to comfort her as best he could, in a man's clumsy way. soon the fit wore away, and suzanne was her own brave little self again, the look of sublime confidence once more coming into her face. and so the weary hunt went on as the sun slanted down the western heavens, with a cruel night ahead of the searchers. xxii an air-mail way station once they sighted an isolated town in a valley, but this failed to arouse any particular enthusiasm. if anything had been seen by those who lived in such a remote place, the glad tidings would have long since been sent out to the world, since it must be understood how the entire country was alive with eagerness for a satisfactory solution to the mysterious disappearance of the young air-mail pilot. jack rather imagined that this might be the place where buddy warner turned up missing--where at a certain hour his schedule was to have brought him down from his sky trail to leave and pick up the mail--but alas! he had failed to come to time, and day after day an increasing number of scurrying planes continued to scour the surrounding country in the endeavor to pick up a clue. jack could make out the landing field with his naked eyes but when suzanne pressed the glasses on him without saying a word, he proceeded to make good use of them. a plane had just landed, possibly in the mail service, for there was more or less bustle in its vicinity and he could see a small ford car starting off, as if with a bag or two of letters. apparently their passing over failed to excite the people, for while they were staring up and displaying a certain amount of interest, they made no signals, showing there was no good news, as possibly the girl had been hoping. "they have been seeing any number of ships passing over during the last few days, i reckon," he told her, just to have something to say, and perhaps also relieve her evident distress a little, "so understand that nothing has been found, or the joyful news would be transmitted by radio or wire." taking it for granted that he had figured correctly, jack altered his plans. if buddy had never made his goal and delivered the mail at this station, the chances seemed to be that he could hardly have gone past--that whatever happened to him must have occurred before he came to this place. this being the case, they would show the part of wisdom to swing around and start back the way they had come. it would be a good policy to zigzag back and forth so as to cover all the ground possible. jack had taken particular care to find out what he could as to the sort of night it was when the disappearance took place. whether there was any kind of bad weather and which way the prevailing wind chanced to be blowing, for that must be taken into consideration in order to get as close to the facts as possible. so now when about to head back, he knew just which side of their late course must call for their serious attention. another thing he kept before him was the important fact of eight or ten hours apparently wasted. night was approaching and they could not have even the slightest hope of making any sort of discovery. since in following out his new plan of swinging back and forth each few miles, covering only short distances ahead, by the time twilight fell they would not be a great distance from the valley in which that town on the air-mail route nestled. what was to hinder them seeking it out again, and finding a safe harbor for the hours of darkness? when he found a chance to talk with perk, changing the ear phones from the girl to his chum, now resting up after a continuous service of many hours, the latter absolutely agreed with everything jack advanced. "shucks! we couldn't 'spect to strike anything while the night lasted, just keep moseyin' around to kill time an' in that way usin' up a whole bunch o' gas, 'sides mebbe losin' track o' our job. yep, i'd say it'd be a good thing all 'round for us to drop down an' give the girl a chance to rest." that seemed to settle it, insofar as jack was concerned for it was always good in his mind to have his partner agree with him, perk being no fool but an experienced airman of many years standing. the seesaw movement gave them an opportunity to cover considerable ground, even while they made but scant forward progress. jack was not at all concerned about this lack, his one desire being to effectually scour the country so as to feel they had not been lax in their duty. he took mental notes as they went along, so as to always remember just what course must be pursued in order to fetch them back to the cozy little valley set like a gem in the heart of that inhospitable mountain territory. this was only in keeping with jack's customary system of preparedness. a habit that had proven most valuable to him more than a few times in the past. they were once again over the high elevations so that it was necessary to change their altitude frequently in order to keep within reasonable distance of the ground which they were searching for a clue. now they had to climb in order to clear a lofty peak and immediately afterwards drop down so as to comb the further side of the rocky height, as well as the deep ravine lying between the several mountains in the mighty chain. it was interesting work, but with such slight chances for success, much of the glamour was lost for jack. as the friendly sun was about to drop behind the western horizon, so jagged, so fantastic in contour, they must soon give up the flight for that day and hasten back to the valley town where a safe landing could be effected and a decent meal secured, something to tempt poor, disconsolate and yet brave suzanne to break her long fast. already it was growing difficult to distinguish objects in some of the canyons and defiles over which they sailed, indicating that they might be missing something of value. accordingly jack swung abruptly around and rising like an eagle on the wing, started to go back. he could see that suzanne noticed this abrupt change in their course for she displayed some uneasiness. he motioned to perk to let her have the earphones again and proceeded to explain just what must be done. at first the girl was distressed, for to her mind it looked as though her staunch friends might be growing weary of their hopeless quest and meant to abandon it altogether, but as jack carefully explained why it was necessary they should land for the night while the opportunity offered and that nothing would be sacrificed in so doing, suzanne began to comprehend and nod her head in approval. "we can stop over and get rested up instead of keeping on this gruelling task without the slightest chance for accomplishing anything," he told her finally, though immediately adding: "that covers the night only, for as soon as morning comes we shall start out, fixed to keep going all day long." "i understand just what you mean, jack, and i don't know how to thank you both for all you are doing for me--for buddy--for ma warner, waiting there at home and hardly sleeping a wink as she thinks and thinks and prays her boy may be given back to her safe and sound." jack did not say any more, he could not because by now his own hopes were diminishing at a rapid rate. was it any wonder that such should be the case when three full days had now crept along since the air-mail pilot vanished into the realms of space, and never a single word coming back to explain his fate? for the sake of this brave girl, so ready to risk her own life in the service of the one she loved, he must try to keep up a confident front. if it was ordained that she too must see her hopes crushed, at least he and perk would have the satisfaction of knowing they had done everything in their power to bring her great joy. so too, that anxious mother in the far away home, what gratification it would give them if they could dry her tears and be helpful in bringing her boy back to her arms. they were now nearing the valley where the little way-station on the air-mail route lay between its majestic sentinel snow-clad peaks. jack meant to circle twice at least, so as to get a good idea as to how the ground lay for by now daylight would be giving place to dusk in that valley, and visibility not all they could wish, so it would pay them to be very careful. jack could see that suzanne was greatly interested and he knew just why. here at this mountain station, buddy was in the habit of landing every time his flight took him back and forth. doubtless he had made friends with some of the town folks, especially those connected with the flying field for his was a nature that always attracted people. it agitated her to realize that she might even hear him spoken of in the highest terms, and what pride such a thing must stir up in her young heart! jack was circling the field and constantly dropping lower with each round so that he had already been able to pick out the exact spot where he meant to land. xxiii perk loses his voice knowing that one of perk's failings lay along the line of talking a bit too much on occasion, jack had taken pains to warn him against too much loquacity when making a night halt in this mountain town. he had had occasion to take his pal to task along similar lines more than a few times in the past. perk was too apt to forget that secrecy was always a leading card with all reliable members of the service in which he was enlisted. that he emphasized this fact on the present occasion did not mean there was a particular reason for keeping the lid on, lest some desperate character hiding in the isolated place from the long arm of the government's deputies try to do them harm--but simply on general principles. only too well did jack know there were men who had reason to hate all having any connection whatever with the secret service--men who had been sent to atlanta or leavenworth, to pay the debt they owed organized society. through the entire period of their incarceration never a day had passed without their renewing a vow to sometime or other to get even with the members of that organization responsible for their imprisonment. when their wheels came in contact with the ground in a perfect three point landing, they found themselves greeted by a number of men, ready to proffer any assistance that might be required, especially when it became known that the strangers intended to stay over night. the presence of a girl pilot aboard the visiting craft also aroused additional curiosity for likely enough this may have been the very first time the town had ever played host to a genuine aviatrix. perk, to make doubly certain he did not babble, decided to play dumb as much as lay within his power. he could talk hoarsely as though suffering from a bad cold and loss of voice, a tricky game that gave him secret amusement, jack rather suspected. jack soon learned they would surely find good accommodations at one of the hotels and a man who introduced himself as caleb cushman kindly volunteered to carry them there in his five-passenger car, handily near by. this neighborly offer jack immediately accepted, asking the other if he could wait a few minutes until some arrangement was made for storing their crate in a convenient hangar. everybody seemed eager to oblige, and jack really had to choose between three separate generous offers from as many parties. he had already discovered that a man wearing a pilot's outfit and who seemed to be in some authority, named bart hicks, was in addition to being in charge of the field, an instruction pilot whenever some young fellow aspired to learn the ropes, after fulfilling the examination necessary to being licensed as a full-fledged air pilot. so it was the part of diplomacy on jack's part, when forced to make a choice, to accept this man's offer under the belief that the amphibian would be better cared for and secured against any possibility of harm. of course he had no reason whatever to fear any rough-house treatment, but long years ago young ralston had learned the wisdom of "locking the door _before_ the horse was stolen" and thereby saved himself considerable trouble. an air pilot's ship is to him what the valuable race-horse represents to the track plunger--a thing to be guarded at all times as the day of the great turf events draws closer since some desperate gambler might attempt to dope the animal in order to win his heavy wagers. so too, it would be a simple thing to disable the motor of a plane or else so damage a wing that it must be out of the question for the craft to pursue its customary duties until it had been taken to a repair shop and put in condition. with time so valuable to them, so vital to buddy warner, they could not afford to take any chances. before he quitted the landing-field, he made up his mind to have a little confidential talk with bart hicks whom he had already sized up to be an honest, efficient airman to whom any one could tie with an assurance of being given a square deal. "perk, stick close to suzanne--i'll be back in a short time," was what he said to his chum. the other wagged his head as though he understood, even though there must be a certain amount of deafness on his part, caused by the continual racket of the motor and propeller, lasting from the time they took off in the gigantic colorado canyon. a number of willing hands took hold, and the big amphibian was shoved and hauled to a large hangar in which one ship had already been berthed. jack incidentally learned that the doors would be closed immediately and locked, although no harm had ever been done a ship since the airport was established. jack had already noted that they were getting to be up to the times, as if the citizens might be of an enterprising sort. landing lights had been installed while a flashing beacon close by had already started into action, showing that an airmail crate was expected any minute or else one was due to take off. it was evident that bart hicks felt a certain amount of natural curiosity concerning these guests of the field. he had noted that their ship was a brand new one and also the fact that the pilot who brought it down so cleverly must be an experienced hand. then too, the presence of suzanne interested him in the bargain, she looked so confident and had all the little airs of a full-fledged pilot in the bargain--trust his old eyes to discover these patent facts. "come far, sir?" he was saying casually after the ship had been safely housed in the big hangar, doubtless the property of the aircraft company contracting with the government for carrying the mails and express matter. "we spent last night in the colorado canyon and have been covering all the ground possible ever since, flying low so as to keep tabs on the ground for as you might guess, we're one of the many parties out searching high and low for buddy warner and his crate." "i reckoned you might be sir," the superintendent of the field quickly remarked, displaying more or less sympathy in his voice. "my pal and i have been thrown into the hunt by our employers like the rest of the bunch working the same racket," continued jack, diplomatically adding, "you see we happen to have run across a young woman pilot who had to make a forced landing down on the river sand in the canyon and it was absolutely necessary that we take her along with us. you can understand just why that could be when i tell you her name is suzanne cramer and that she is buddy warner's sweetheart!" bart immediately displayed the most intense interest it seemed, just as wise jack had figured out. he was a family man and in full sympathy with everything that had to do with the fortunes of honest, clean minded young people--for jack knew there was a heap of truth in that old saying to the effect that "all the world loves a lover" and he was now playing the game for all it was worth. "that's mighty fine i must say, mr. ralston," bart said, for he had learned the names of the two airmen, "and i must say that girl is some daisy, to start off searching for her beau, and she an air pilot in the bargain. i'm tickled pink to have you all stay over in our little burg for even a night and if we can do anything to help you out just give me the tip and it'll sure be done." that was just what jack most wanted to hear. before they took off again he was determined to do his best to get hold of some information that would prove of more or less value to himself and perk. "i'm meaning to ask you a few questions in the morning mr. hicks," he hastened to say, "especially connected with the country to the east and northeast, for i figure the chances are three to one buddy warner must have made a forced landing of some sort in that quarter. the wind, the night he vanished, was blowing from the southwest and pretty gusty at times. visibility was poor also, so if he lost connection with the beacons before reaching your station, he'd be blown off his course. do you agree with me, sir?" "i call it right smart reasoning," bart hicks told him. "three other ships dropped in here nights so as to save their gas and get some rest; and not one of the pilots seemed to know what course he ought to lay out--just kept swinging this way and that at random, hoping for a streak of good luck to strike them. i reckoned they were leaving a lot of ground uncovered, working without any system as they did." "that's what i thought would happen," continued jack quietly, feeling that he had already made a good impression on the other and could hope for results when it came time to "squeeze the bag." "we mean to devote ourselves to that particular locality so as to find out where he crashed and whether he is still alive or not." bart hicks gave a shrug with his broad shoulders. "for the sake of that little girl, i sure do hope you find him alive, partner," he said feelingly as became one airman toward another. "she came straight out here from his old mother," continued jack, "who gave her blessing to the mad scheme; but now that she is in our charge, my pal and i will see that she comes to no harm. i am greatly obliged to you, mr. hicks, for your kindness in sheltering our ship. you can understand what it means to us now, while on this sad errand of mercy, to know that no harm will happen to the crate." "don't mention it partner!" hastily exclaimed the other. "why, i've been just itching right along to get busy and look over that territory you've been speaking about, but my duties here kept me pinned down, though i took it out in doing a heap of growling and swearing too. tell the little girl for me, will you, that we've all been wishing her buddy would turn up safe and sound. i have a daughter about her age, i reckon, and i just know how she must feel. see you in the morning at daybreak, mr. ralston." "thank you again many times, sir." jack felt that he had made a warm friend in honest bart hicks. he saw the respectful way in which the field superintendent shook hands with suzanne, after all of them had entered the gentleman's car and were ready to start for the hotel and how pleased the girl looked as he murmured a few words of sincere sympathy. things at least seemed to be working along the line he had laid out. of course, no one could say this early in the game whether anything worth while would develop from the circumstances springing out of their decision to spend the night in the valley town. xxiv one chance in a thousand the little hotel to which they were taken by the kind owner of the five-passenger car proved to be all they could wish for. it looked scrupulously clean and the rooms to which they were shown seemed to give promise of a comfortable night's sleep, though jack doubted whether the excited girl would obtain the rest she needed so much. he promised to knock on her door at daybreak so that they might secure the early breakfast he had ordered and be off to the flying field to make a start. he and perk had a double room with twin beds and were not long in turning in, both of them being more or less tired after a gruelling day aloft. jack had no idea they would be disturbed during the night, for they were utter strangers in the town and such things as robberies were absolutely unknown, or so the hotel proprietor had assured him in answer to an incidental question. he was up at the first peep of dawn and had perk on his feet without any unusual racket. later on jack kept his promise about tapping on the door of suzanne's room and was a bit surprised when she opened it, disclosing the fact that she was fully dressed as though she had been up for some time, which indeed was a fact. he would never forget the yearning look she gave him when, seated at the table, they started their simple breakfast. it was as though her heart were in her throat, choking her and jack, realizing the girl must be close to the breaking point, quickly started talking of outside matters and even cracked a little joke to try and divert her mind from the subject that had gripped her day and night for so long. about the time they settled their account and were ready to start for the field, a car stopped at the door and their accommodating friend of the night before, mr. caleb cushman, accompanied by his wife, appeared. they came early to have the pleasure of taking them to where they meant to start off again--perhaps his good wife also wished to meet the brave girl who was the now famous buddy warner's sweetheart. apparently they both knew about this important fact, showing that mr. cushman must have been in touch with bart hicks by telephone since last they saw the latter, and learned this thrilling circumstance that might put their little town on the map, with all the big newspapers of the country blazing inch high scareheads on their front pages when covering the latest sensation along aviation lines. although jack would not admit that he felt the least uneasiness concerning the safety of the amphibian, nevertheless he gave a sigh of relief when after looking the ship over he found everything in shipshape condition. "get that gas aboard as quick as you can, perk," he told his comrade for he had contracted to have the tank filled to full capacity while the chance held good, and besides he wished to have a little further conversation with affable bart hicks, with the hope of picking up a few crumbs of information in regard to the terrain they meant to cover on this most important day. accordingly he drew the ground superintendent aside and plied him with a variety of questions, all of which the accommodating test pilot answered to the best of his ability. jack had him describe the general character of the ground and just as he anticipated, learned that it was actually the roughest section in all the region. "rocks--deep gullies that seem to have no bottom--peaks with slithering points that look like the savage steel tips of spearheads--the worst territory for a poor devil of an air pilot to crash in or have to make a forced landing that you could run across in a hundred square miles. i'd say there wasn't over one chance in a thousand that the lad could get to the ground alive and even granted that he did, wounded as he must be, he never in the wide world would be able to find his way out of that hole. i'm sorry to have to say that, mr. ralston, but it's the truth." jack may have winced, but just the same he showed not the slightest sign of being yellow. "tell me about that thousandth chance, brother," he observed, at which the other looked him keenly in the face, shrugged his shoulders and went on to say: "guess you're clear grit all right, son. the best pilots are built that way. look at our lindy now, and you'll find he never flinches, no matter what happens but always does the one right thing as if by instinct. fact is, when i mentioned that there might be a tiny loophole for a poor devil who had to go down in that god-forsaken stretch of wilderness, i must have been thinking of that strange old hermit who has a secret hideout somewhere in that country. there's a beautiful little clear water lake surrounded by peaks and heavy woods that no white man's ever fished in or set eyes on at close quarters, 'cept maybe that queer old chap." "please tell me all you know about him," pursued jack eagerly, just as if he was trying to clutch some minute shred of hope that was difficult to capture. bart hicks laughed shortly. "i can tell you all that in a jiffy mr. ralston," he hastened to reply, "because none of us happen to know anything at all about who and what the old party is. about twice a year, spring and fall, he bobs up here with a sure footed mule and buys all sorts of grub and stores. he never stays overnight and seems to hate the sight of a real house. some curious minded folks, thinking that perhaps he had struck a rich mine there in that rockhouse district, have tried to follow him but had to give it up and come back beaten. he doesn't fetch free gold out with him but plain, everyday government yellow-back bills. we don't know a thing about the secret trail he takes to make his way through all that riotous land. "i've heard pilots tell how they'd seen spirals of wood smoke rising and those who happened to be flying low say they could see his campfire was close to the brim of that crater lake--for some say it lies in the crater of an extinct volcano. that's about the whole story as far as any of us know it, mr. ralston and i'm winding up by saying again it would be just one lone chance in a thousand that a poor air pilot dropping down there would be found and rescued by that mysterious old hermit." "as you say, it's a desperately small opening and not very promising at best," jack told his new friend with the same resolute look on his face, "but it may be we'll have to place our hopes on such a slender chance after all. at any rate i'm meaning to look into that matter before giving up the game as impossible. it wouldn't be the first time such a mere thread turned into a stout cable that's saved the ship from destruction." "never say die, eh? i'd think that'd be your motto, mr. ralston," observed the field superintendent who apparently had come to have more or less admiration for the young air pilot who carried himself so buoyantly, so confidently, as though he absolutely believed in himself. by now perk had finished his job of refueling the plane and was rubbing his soiled hands with a bit of waste. "all fixed, are we brother?" asked jack and for almost the first time on record, those close by learned that perk was not at all dumb, but had a fluent voice of his own. "wall," he drawled with a wicked wink toward jack, "guess now she's loaded to capacity an' then some 'cause i've got six gallon cans o' juice stowed away where they ain't goin' to take up much room, an'll keep us on the wing a bit extra. then too, partner, here's a waiter comin' from our hotel joint carryin' a package o' eats in the shape o' sandwiches which i took the trouble to order an' which you'll have the pleasure o' payin' a hull dollar for right on the spot." "good for you, perk!" laughed jack, who seldom had to worry about a sufficiency of food when traveling in the company of such an excellent provider as gabe perkiser who never had any difficulty in hearing the "call of the eats" so many times per diem. apparently they were all ready to make the jump-off, the amphibian having been taxied to the head of the runway where a simple slant would help give her "gangway," as perk often called it. just then bart hicks came up and shoved a bit of paper into the pocket of jack's leather flying coat. "just take a squint at that when you find time, brother," he remarked and held out his hand for a parting grip. "shake hands, jack, and here's wishing you all the luck going in your present job as well as in all others they put on your shoulders--you too, perk old hoss." there was something a bit mysterious about the way bart hicks said that, and perk had it on the tip of his tongue to demand an explanation but since the pilot just then drew back the stick and the motor commenced to roar as the amphibian started down the slant, he had to take it out in a goodbye wave of his hand and let it go at that. they rose like a bird long before the termination of the runway had been reached for those sloping wing-tips were fashioned so as to make it easy to take off successfully in one-third the distance formerly deemed necessary for a ship with a powerful enough set of motors to lift a heavy weight and get away with it. looking back, suzanne could see the little bunch that had seen their takeoff, including some mechanics and field hands as well as bart hicks, mr. cushman and his wife. they were all waving their hands wildly and possibly giving tongue in the bargain, although the noise prevented her from making sure of this. she answered their salutes with her little pocket handkerchief and then wiped her eyes as though the long repressed tears just would break through her guard, and run down her pretty cheeks. they were now fully launched on another day's weary though eager search, with no one being qualified to prophesy what the outcome of the new flight would be. jack had mapped out in his mind the country over which he meant to fly with little save his own conception to assist him. one thing was sure, when they had covered a stretch of several miles in a straight run, it could be set down as certain nothing had missed their close attention and that there would be no necessity for returning over the same ground again. this was a fight to a finish and a clean-up as they went along, so jack kept hugging that tiny hope to his heart and wondered what the eventual outcome of the adventure would prove to be. as yet it was a toss-up, as far as he could see. xxv the never say die spirit "hot ziggetty dog! all set now for another long spin, combin' the country as we go along, eh partner?" perk had no sooner arranged his head-phones after seeing that jack had his fixed for service, than he commenced business at the old stand. perk was just burning to get certain things out of his system that had been dammed up by his playing dumb on the previous evening. "so far as i know nothing has been overlooked perk--if only that left wing aileron doesn't play us a dirty trick and fall off, we'll be alright." "i tell you i tested it an' it's okay, jack, don't crab my game if you have any respect for my feelin's. when i say a thing's all to the good it's there, every time." "forget it brother, we've both been under a heavy strain lately and apt to show undue anxiety. today ought to prove which way the wind's going to blow for us. see, already she's at the old job, covering every rod of ground with the powerful glasses. all i can say is i wish her all the luck going, poor kid." "but just the same you ain't any too--er--sanguine--is that the word i want, partner? a sort o' yearnin', hopin' but kinder afraid things mightn't turn out so well in the end?" "i get you, perk, and according to my notion there are three of us in the same boat right now. i'm holding the ship in right along, so we'll make certain nothing gets away from us." "yeah, an' by the way jack, didn't i see our good pal, bart, stick somethin' in your pocket jest before we skipped off--looked kinder like a piece o' paper to me--did you ask him for his home address or somethin' like that?" jack laughed. "so you saw him do that, did you, old hawk-eye--no, i didn't ask him for anything in that line--he did more than enough for us as it was." perk seemed to be consumed with curiosity which he made no attempt whatever to smother, for after a bit of grunting he went on to say suggestively: "huh! that looks a whole lot queer to me, partner. why should bart hicks want to act like he might be an informer, tryin' to hand you a leadin' clue to a smashin' big mystery an' on the sly in the bargain? huh! seems to me he must 'a' had some good reason for doin' sech a stunt as that!" "thunder! perk, if you don't make me think of the picture we used to see in the magazine ads, where a baby in a bathtub is reaching out to get hold of a cake of soap with a well known brand on it with the words 'he won't be happy till he gets it.' right now you're just eaten up with curiosity about that slip of paper bart crammed down in my pocket and there'll be no peace in the camp till you know its contents." perk unblushingly chuckled, as if ready to "acknowledge the corn." "lemme have the stick, partner," he hastened to suggest, "i'm jest as fit as a fiddle to lay things out for a few hours, an' mebbe it'll tone me down some." "oh! all right brother, here you go then." the transfer was made "as slick as grease," according to perk's mind and so jack felt in his coat pocket to immediately draw out a sheet of paper, evidently torn hastily from an account book, and upon which there was considerable writing, none too legible. he fastened his eyes on this and perk could see that whatever the tenor of bart's secret communication was, it appeared to afford jack considerable interest. several times as he read on he nodded his head, as if agreeing with certain statements in the missive, all of which redoubled poor perk's eagerness to have a share in the proceedings. "well, that certainly takes the cake," jack was heard to say after he had evidently reached the finish of the note. "ain't you goin' to let me in on the fun, partner?" begged the other almost pathetically. "i'm sure all het up with a desire to know what's goin' on." jack nodded his head again and then started to relieve his chum's mental burden. "seems like the joke's on us, perk, old boy," he began. "joke hey? bart hicks played one on his unsuspectin' guests then, did he?" perk grumbled as if terribly upset. "i didn't think he was that sorter cad." "oh! you'll take that back after you find out what i meant by the word 'joke'," jack hastened to assure him. "listen, partner, i'm going to read you the whole letter, because it's no easy job to get the hang of bart's handwriting. reckon he wasn't great shakes at penmanship when he went to school, for he does spell something fierce, but i'm going to keep this, all right, for it's a cinch bart outsmarted two fellows who reckon themselves some clever at their business. but listen and grab what he says here." "go to it, old hoss," begged the waiting perk most eagerly. "'hats off, boys--i'm on to your curves okay. happens i got a younger brother a holding down a job in the same crowd you run with--mebbe you remember young doug hicks, him that fetched in all by his lonesome the four ginks makin' up that slick gang of international crooks doin' business as the keating bunch'--what d'ye think of that, perk, doug hicks turning out to be the kid brother of our new friend, bart, isn't that the limit though? well he goes on this way: 'he often mentioned both you lads in his letters to me, and when you introduced yourselves i just knocked wood, but didn't let on i got the drift of things. but say, don't you worry any, boys, i'll never leak a drop, so your secret is as safe as a new dollar bill. go to it, and fetch in buddy warner, for if anybody can do that, it's bound to be you two. so-long. your friend, bart hicks, all wool and a yard wide.'" perk was making all manner of queer faces as though this wonderful disclosure had taken his breath away but through it all there struggled that happy-go-lucky grin of his, to proclaim his full appreciation of the contents of the flying field test pilot's unique communication. "jest what that gink is--all wool and a yard wide--honest goods, you bet every time," he finally managed to say with numerous chuckles accompanying the words. "sure we know doug hicks, the boy who's goin' to make a name for himself in the secret service one o' these days, if he don't get bumped off by some hijacker's lead. queer what a little ole world this anyhow--kickin' up against bart hicks in this jumpin'-off part o' the country. we sure do strike the strangest happening in our line o' work, don't we?" "we certainly do," came the quick reply as jack folded up his letter and put it carefully away. "while you're doing duty brother, i'll get busy with some calculations i have in mind. keep her headed just as she is, and in half an hour we'll bank and come back along a parallel line, so as to cover all the ground up and down, up and down, through the whole day." it was gruelling work, but the only possible thing they could do if they meant to make certain that they had investigated every rod of that terrible terrain that lay on every side, looking as though at some remote time in the past, nature had been turning things topsy-turvy and making a mad havoc with the entire land of gigantic rocks and sink holes. so two whole hours crept along with a number of abrupt turns, now north, again south, steadily covering the ground. but sad to say there had as yet been discovered nothing to breed sudden hopes and expectations. haze there had been in patches, owing to some humid condition of the atmosphere in certain quarters, but never the first sign of friendly smoke curling upward in spirals, nor yet a glimpse of any sort of half concealed mountain lake such as had been described to them by bart hicks. it was now drawing on toward the middle of the day and perk having turned over the controls to his chum at the latter's request, was taking things easy, having relieved suzanne of the binoculars which he handled with the skill born of long practice. several times during the morning the girl had begged jack to take a look and tell her if she had deceived herself in thinking there was some favorable sign ahead or on either side. much as he would have loved to confirm her wildest hopes, jack found himself doomed to give a disappointing answer and so see the look of anguish that passed over her erstwhile eager, smiling face. the grim truth must be faced--there was no break so far to the monotonous cruelty of the landscape with its unpromising features the only result of all this search. then too, other discouraging happenings came along to add to jack's concern. for one thing, the wind was increasing and at times striking them head on so as to cause more or less unsteadiness to the flying boat, as well as upsetting certain of his calculations. this was not at all to jack's liking and he showed it by his repeated upward glances, as though endeavoring to read the impending weather conditions by the looks and movements of the clouds passing over. it was also becoming more and more treacherous as their work took them up and down, now soaring above some outlying crag mass and again dipping into a valley that seemed only a fit abode for the grizzly bear in search of lonesome districts where the feared human, with his magic stick that spit fire and smoke and painful missiles, could never come. would their entire day be put in without a breath of cheering hope? must they turn back, and possibly spend yet another dreary night in the little valley town, dispirited and with the poor girl in despair? it began to look that way, even if worse might not be their portion. so it can be easily understood that when perk got out some of his sandwiches nobody seemed to be hungry save himself, which deplorable fact was not at all to the genial fellow's liking. even the usually even-tempered jack was beginning to show signs of the long strain, though he managed to conceal it as much as possible out of consideration for the suffering suzanne; but it was hard to assume a hopeful face when up against a tough proposition as they undoubtedly now were. the wind was getting stronger, there could be no discounting that positive fact which added to jack's concern not a little, for he realized that should a storm come along it would put an effectual end to all their hopes of accomplishing anything. perk too, had taken the alarm and was also sending occasional glances aloft. xxvi crater lake along about an hour after perk had made his lonesome midday lunch and marveled at the fact of his being able to only devour three of those toothsome sandwiches the chef at the hotel had put up at his order, things had arrived at such a point that jack felt it was only the part of wisdom for him to do whatever lay in his power to keep track of their bearings. if that rising wind kept on increasing in strength so that it even threatened to wind up in a genuine smashing gale, the chances were they must either make some sort of a forced landing, or else climb up above the storm clouds so as to avoid new and more appalling perils. in so doing they would lose track of their points of contact and be compelled to go all over the same ground again or take chances of picking up the broken thread of their search wherever they had to drop it. thus hard set, jack began to try and take note of various unusual formations--using the binoculars in so doing--that, stamped on his receptive mind might serve as landmarks just as "targets" do the harbor pilots when fetching a deep sea vessel in through the shallows to port and safety. sometimes small fishing smacks, driven from a promising field by wind and huge billows, are able to mark the spot by an anchored empty water keg and in this way are able to find the fruitful spot when the weather moderates. such a stratagem however is not available to the air voyager, whose only resource lies in a retentive memory. when another half hour had slipped by, jack began to once again entertain a hope that this emergency might not reach a culmination. if anything, the wind had lost a modicum of its fierceness and twice he discovered a little break in the cloud ceiling by which they were covered, as though the sun were trying to peep through. thus things were going along as the middle of the afternoon was reached. perk at the controls was mentally comparing their condition to that of a shipwrecked crew of a sunken vessel; out of water with their hearts almost in their throats with anxiety, shading their eyes with their hands and searching along the horizon for signs of a sail. somehow the comparison gave perk much concern, and he tried to imagine the great joy that must fill the souls of that forlorn little company when suddenly one of their number shouts out the glorious news: "ship ahoy--a steamer's smoke smudge to larboard!" but it was only suzanne asking jack to please take a look and tell her what that lumbering, ungainly object might be which she had discovered moving across the rocks under the keel of the flying boat. "i never happened to run across one before," jack presently explained, "but i'm sure it must be a mountain charlie, as i understand people out in california call the silvertip grizzly bear. some monster in the bargain, miss cramer and you'll agree with me when i say i'd rather be here than there." she nodded her head as if to let him know he was right but when jack saw a shadow pass over her face he understood what was in her mind--that her poor wounded buddy might be lying there helpless, with that savage monster drawing nearer and nearer, sniffing the air and following the scent that sooner or later would take him to the spot where the fallen air mail pilot lay. she shuddered and put a hand in front of her eyes nor could she be induced to make use of the glasses again for quite some time. she evidently feared lest she once more glimpse that horrid hairy animal, shuffling along in his shambling fashion, ready to attack any creature that came in his way, be it bird, beast or human being for was he not the king of the mountain fastnesses, utterly unafraid? jack felt convinced fortune was proving kindly disposed toward their mission of humanity. that troublesome wind was slowly but surely diminishing in force and gave promise of finally dying out in another hour or so. at least they were not going to be forced to call the search off as long as daylight served. jack had not as yet decided in his mind what to do after twilight came and the face of the country became blotted out in the gathering gloom of night. it might be possible for them to keep going, in hopes of discovering the tempting glow of a campfire among the tall trees of the timber belt; but discretion would more than likely force them to give up operations until yet another day. the risk would be much too great, flying at that low altitude across such a dangerous wilderness where at any minute some unseen rocky cliff might suddenly rise up before their speeding aircraft bringing about an unavoidable crash, an explosion and--oblivion! and then it came to pass, after all those weary and distressing hours of search--this time suzanne uttered a shrill shriek and trembling all over held out the binoculars toward jack crying: "oh! tell me if i am going out of my mind jack! is that really and truly smoke curling up from over there?" she clung to his arm and continued to point, trying to keep her hand from wobbling to and fro because of her emotion. jack quickly focussed upon the object that had caught her attention. perk understanding what it must all be about, even if unable to catch the meaning of what was being said, watched jack's face, well knowing how it was sure to register his thoughts. "smoke it is, for all the world!" jack declared, immediately adding further words of good cheer; "and as true as you live, i can catch a gleam of sunlight falling on clear water!" "crater lake, jack?" demanded the duly thrilled girl, now all aglow with renewed hope and expectation. "it must be," admitted the other, still looking through the glasses, "we were told there is no other body of water in this entire section. you know bart said that old hermit was believed to have his hideout close by the ice water lake, for smoke had been seen rising of mornings when the air-mail carrier went through a bit off his course." he made a gesture to perk the other readily understood. it meant that he should immediately bank and go back again on the same track so they could have yet another opportunity to use their eyes and learn if things were as hopeful as they had been led to believe. jack managed to glance in the direction of the girl close by. it was plain to be seen that suzanne was tremendously agitated by this sudden discovery of both the secret hideout of the so-called hermit and the nearby crater lake, concerning which they had heard accounts from bart hicks. not a single word passed her tightly compressed lips but in her whole demeanor there was an expression of wonder, eagerness and fear--the last no doubt on account of certain possibilities that, after all their efforts they might have arrived too late or else that the hermit had seen nothing whatsoever of the long missing flyer. jack too, knew they were banking on what must be called a long chance for thus far it was only a mere surmise that caused them to seek out the hidden retreat of the man who shunned his fellows. not a single thing had come to their notice to affirm that buddy warner had ever flown over crater lake in any of his passages to and fro, although his usual course lay within a few miles of the extinct volcano. "i'll take the stick now, perk," he announced as they once more caught a glimpse of that curling, eddying smoke column and then sighted the cliff encircled lake of the mountains. one thing jack had already settled that the sheer rocky walls did not entirely encompass the sheet of water. there was a section at the near end where the ground sloped down to the very edge of the lake. jack could see this with his naked eye--no further necessity existed for using the magnifying binoculars, he concluded. then of a sudden jack felt a warm glow pass over his whole body. what was this he saw projecting from the lake close to the shore? he had on some other occasion looked upon a wrecked plane partly submerged in some body of water, fresh or salt and here he found himself staring down at a similar object. this would tell the story, jack thought, better than any words could do. some aviator must have attempted to drop down upon the lake, perhaps to ease the shock of contact when forced to descend through an accident to his outfit, that was a positive thing and what was more reasonable than to conclude the unfortunate airman must be the missing pilot for whom so many flyers were scouring the whole country up and down, east and west? he half opened his mouth as though to call the attention of suzanne to his thrilling discovery and then stopped short. she would find it out for herself quickly enough and if there was a bitter disappointment awaiting the brave girl, far be it from him to hasten the coming of her grief. now they had begun to circle the lake itself and once directly over the body of water, jack could see it was indeed a real gem. a small but select sheet that, save for the presence of the hermit close by, had probably never been fished by a single white man. a perfect trout preserve, he told himself, in the ecstasy of a born fisherman. it was what perk would call a "reg'lar cinch." there was not the slightest reason to hold back, for never an obstacle could jack discover calculated to give them trouble in making contact with the water. once safely floating on the surface of the mysterious lake, they could taxi over to a position close to the sloping beach where a landing might be effected in order to search for the hidden retreat of the lone settler. once, twice, three times did he make a complete turn around the circular pond and then having his plan laid out, he dove down until close to the shimmering surface when he suddenly leveled off and then gently continued the drop, to fall upon the bosom of the beautiful harbor almost as lightly as a wild duck would splash down from on high. and then suzanne discovered the half submerged ship, with its nose out of sight and its tail pointing up at the northern sky. it was a melancholy and ill-omened spectacle indeed, speaking as it surely did of some unfortunate airman's swift plunge from lofty heights to strike the tiny lakelet. indeed, it might even have been his intended target when the terrible drop was first begun. suzanne gave a cry and held out her quivering hands toward the wrecked plane as though all doubts were now removed as to her buddy having dipped down into this pool when his ship became unmanageable. xxvii the end of the air trail the crisis for which they had been preparing during the entire aerial trip was now a reality. before many more minutes had passed they would know that which they came to find out--whether buddy had clung to life during the long, agonizing interval, or had "gone west," as so many in his perilous calling had done before him in a blaze of sacrifice and glory. they were now floating on the surface of the little mountain lake in the midst of the most wonderful surroundings the human mind could imagine. here centuries ago had been the wide vent of an active volcano and at intervals from this same opening, now so quiet and peaceful, there had undoubtedly burst forth vast waves of molten lava accompanied by sulphurous smoke and thunderous sounds, as though nature had broken her chains and meant to reshape the whole western world. later on, when his mind was more at ease, jack ralston could in some measure paint the terrible picture and in his mind imagine he saw the bubbling lava, rolling down the side of the rocky mountain with frightful havoc all along its tortuous course. just then, however, but one matter engaged his entire attention. where was the strange hermit of crater lake? why did he not show himself when he surely must have watched their coming and successful descent? had he been able to save the life of buddy or would they be shown a mound of earth amidst the heaped-up rocks where the valiant young air-mail pilot lay in the sleep that knows no earthly awakening. "look yonder, jack--somethin' movin' among them bushes!" perk was saying in his ear, for since the engine no longer kept up its roar and the propeller had ceased functioning, it was possible for them to hear ordinary sounds. "mebbe now it might be that four-footed ole grizzly b'ar an' i ort to get my rattler o' a machine gun in hand." "don't bother about that, perk," jack told him, "see, it's a man, and chances are we're going to meet the queer old hermit of the mountains right now." even as jack was thus quieting the fears of his chum, the object of their observation walked into full sight and was hastening to reach the border of the clear-water lake close by where the only sign of a beach occurred. he was not a startling figure at all and seemed garbed in ordinary clothes that had evidently been selected for long service when far away from tailors and housewives. his face was bearded and his hair white but he strode along with a swinging step that told of bodily vigor and good health. reaching the border of the water he seemed to be giving them the "once over," as perk called it in his suggestive way. "there, see, he's beckoning for us to come closer," said jack with something approaching relief in his manner. "i see what looks like a clumsy boat made from the trunk of a tree drawn far up on the shore. reckon he uses the old tub when he feels like doing a little fishing. we'll taxi in as close as the depth of the water allows and then if necessary we can wade the balance of the way, carrying suzanne between us." as he turned to start his motor he had one look at the white face of the speechless girl and as long as he lived jack would never forget the tense agony he saw stamped there. it hardly seemed as though suzanne was breathing as she stared at the figure of the strange old man on the shore in whose hands as she well knew, lay the power of life and death insofar as her happiness was concerned. one word from him would tell the whole tragic story. then the motor began to hum and with a dextrous hand jack sent the amphibian scurrying toward the beach. perk meanwhile snatched up a pole he always kept handy for such a purpose and thrusting it into the water, sounded the depth as they went along. when presently perk called out just what he had been waiting to announce so grandly "by the mark, twain," jack shut off the engine and the plump of the anchor immediately followed, perk having that useful hook ready at his hand. "you are searching for him, i take it for granted?" said the hermit, at the same time pointing to the wreck of the plane not many yards away with its disconsolate looking tail in the air and its nose apparently buried in the mud a few feet under the surface. "yes, we are one of a score and more of plane parties scouring the whole side of the rockies," replied jack, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking for the suspense had him in its grip as well as the poor girl. "did you manage to save him, sir--tell us--or--or was it too late?" he heard a low, bubbling cry, or was it a sob--at his elbow but his eyes were riveted on the tall erect figure of the mysterious recluse. the other was nodding his head--surely that could be reckoned a favorable sign. jack again summoned his courage to the fore and went on to ask the crucial question: "this girl, sir, is the sweetheart of buddy warner, whose strange disappearance has thrilled the entire nation--have pity, and relieve her dreadful suspense--is he alive?" another nod, and in the affirmative, accompanied by a ghost of a smile. then came the words that would ring in jack's ears for many a moon: "alive, and with a good chance for recovery, i am glad----" "quick! catch her, perk!" yelled jack as he felt the girl falling in a dead faint from the reaction. the relief proved too much for the strained condition of her nerves. a dash of ice-cold water from the lake soon revived her and she smiled at the pair bending over her so solicitously. "we must get her ashore without any delay," announced jack, for he had great fears lest the enraptured girl take it upon herself to jump overboard and without any assistance from either of her guardians manage to make land. perk instantly dropped into the water which came almost up to his waist. it was pretty cold, but what did that matter to one so fond of calling himself a "tough old guy" and able to negotiate where others would shrink back. suzanne sprang into his arms as though not a second was to be lost in reaching the side of her beloved buddy. so too, did jack follow the example of his pal, determined not to be cheated out of the glorious sight when suzanne and buddy were reunited. once they were all ashore, dripping wet, but heedless of so little a thing under the circumstances. the master of this lonely region led them along what seemed to be a narrow, well trodden path, circulating among the piled-up rocks and trees, until presently they reached a rude shack from the stone chimney of which arose the tell-tale smoke that had been their guiding beacon in discovering the retreat of the recluse. suzanne dashed ahead of their guide and they heard her joyous cries as they reached the open door. she was down on her knees, her arms around a figure stretched out on a rude cot. and so it was that jack and perk came upon the lost air-mail pilot whose hand they were soon squeezing with heartiest enthusiasm. buddy was bandaged pretty well and confessed to a broken arm and quite a lot of bruises, all of which would keep him "on the shelf" for a month or so but everything was "all right," he told them and expressed amazement as well as pride when told that suzanne had not only received her pilot's license, unbeknown to him, but even made a long and successful solo flight in the mad desire to join in the wide search for him. the hermit was saying nothing, only listening with great interest and jack could easily see that somehow this strange happening must have renewed his interest in the outside world from which he had for years been a stranger. such chattering as followed. the happy girl turned every little while to beam upon her two faithful squires as if she could never forget how much they had done for her. perk stared at her as though entranced. evidently he had never imagined there could be so much loveliness in all the wide world as he saw pictured there in her rosy face with eyes like twin stars. for such a delightful little "dame" the honest fellow would have braved the perils of niagara or the whirlpool rapids, if need be, to see such rapture steal over her face. the proud feeling, that he had been able to prove of service to suzanne in her hour of blackest despair, would reward him ten times over for any bodily discomfort he may have endured. and buddy too, he was surely worth finding--so jovial, so chummy in his ways and, lucky guy, with so dainty a "best girl" to hover over him and be his devoted nurse. no one would ever know the part he and jack had taken in this happy ending of the widely published mystery attending buddy's vanishing in the night. the rules of the service to which he and his pal had sworn allegiance forbade such a thing as publicity. to have their pictures sent throughout the land, with an account of their previous successful labors in rounding up transgressors of the law, would put an effectual damper on any future jobs coming their way. it was not to be permitted under any circumstances whatever and not only the hermit, but both buddy and his girl must solemnly promise never to disclose the names and vocation of the two airmen who were mainly responsible for the finding of the lost aviator. that, however, was a minor matter to both comrades. they were not in the secret service of uncle sam for any glory or honors that might be showered upon them. they did not risk their lives day after day with any hope of being decorated with a victory cross or any ribbon telling of foreign service. it must be sufficient reward for them to feel that they had performed their duty to the best of their ability, no matter what its character and, backed by the long arm of the law, brought wicked violators to the bar of justice, there to receive the penalty for their crimes. one thing jack noticed almost immediately was how everything connected with the bandaging of buddy's broken arm had been carried out with astonishing neatness. had he been a patient in some hospital, attended by the most famous of surgeons and with a clever nurse as his attendant, he could not have been in better shape. jack looked again closely at the mysterious recluse, noted the keen eye, the slender, agile fingers which moved with dexterity when he fixed up some little slip in the bandage and made up his mind that the world had undoubtedly lost one of its most gifted surgeons when this unknown man took to the woods, so to speak, for some reason never known. buddy was a bit weak and his host bade him not to keep talking too long, since excitement would not be good for him in his present condition--indeed he had quite enough as it was. but suzanne begged so hard to be permitted to wait upon him and promised to keep him quiet, that she was finally given permission to do so. perk too, had noticed the way in which the hermit had done such a wonderfully fine job in attending to the one he had rescued from drowning after the plane had crashed; for he too, seemed to steal a sly glance in the other's direction whenever he felt he could do so without being detected. for one thing, the near miracle of buddy's being able to drop down into the shallows near the sandy shore had doubtless kept the plane from being wrapped in flames and possibly eased the plunge more or less. "when i dragged him out," the owner of the shack explained to jack and the latter noted how musical his voice seemed, so full and clear in the bargain, "he would not allow me to even look at his wounds until i had found and rescued four sacks of mail. you would have thought the contents of those bags were of greater value than his own life. that is what i'd call being faithful to a trust. but now i must ask both of you gentlemen to follow me outside where, as a rule i do my cooking. while we make ready to have supper, such as the limited stores will allow, we can talk over things and you may be able to figure just how you expect to take off again in the morning for it is too late now to consider going." a little later on, while jack was aboard the ship getting certain things that he wanted, perk sidled up to the earnest old man with whom their fortunes had been so strangely thrown, and with one of his capacious grins remarked casually: "if you'll excuse me for sayin' it, mister, i kinder guess now your name might be doctor whitelaw reeves!" when the other heard him mention that name he started as though he had been stung and looked perk over with those keen eyes of his, and then a faint smile broke out on his stern face. xxviii around the campfire "how does it come, my young friend," remarked the recluse of crater lake moving closer to the grinning perk and apparently greatly moved, "that you are mentioning a name i have not heard spoken for the last seven years?" "huh! it happens, doc, that i got some memory. specially o' faces," candidly replied the aviator. "course you've changed a heap since i knowed you, but back o' it all i could ketch the same look you had then when you fixed me up so dickey." "ah! that is what it means! so you were once a patient of mine. i hope i served you well, to cause you to remember me so long!" and the hermit patted perk on the shoulder in what seemed to be a very friendly way. "hot ziggetty dog! i'm sayin' you did, doc--looky here and see how the things healed up," and as he said this, perk rolled up his sleeve, exhibiting a stout arm marked by a series of red lines zigzagging here and there and giving evidence of being a reminder of a most serious wound. the hermit looked and nodded his head. "rather a tough proposition it must have been," he remarked with a show of interest. "you jest bet it _was_!" vociferated perk. "that bally english doctor wanted to take the arm off--said it'd save my life, but what use would life be to a birdman with only one arm? then you came along and done the trick, doc. never could forget what i owed you. finest operation ever done on that line, the american surgeon said afterwards." "ah! very kind of him, i am sure," said perk's companion, obviously appreciating the implied compliment, "and would you mind telling me just where, and under what conditions all this happened? it may assist me to remember the particular instance out of the hundreds i handled?" "in the argonne, doc--i came down in flames after sendin' two out o' four heinies ahead o' me. 'member you told me my mother had ought to feel proud o' her boy--which she sure was, doc. course it couldn't hardly be 'spected you'd 'member me, but i guessed i'd keep think-in' 'bout you as long as i lived. an' to think we'd run up agin each other like this--it certainly is a small world, as i've said before." "while i don't happen to remember the particular circumstance, my friend," the other went on warmly, "it's a pleasure to know that you did pull through with both arms and have apparently continued to ply your dangerous, if glorious calling ever since. shake hands with me, will you? i'm proud to renew our acquaintance and it comes at a turning point in my life also." he glanced affectionately at buddy lying there on his cot with the girl hovering over him, smoothing the blanket as only a woman can and lavishing looks of adoration on her hero pilot. "for years i have been mourning the fact that after being shell-shocked on the battle line during the closing month of the war, i had lost my touch for my vocation; for a surgeon depends a great deal on his hands for the success of his delicate operations. then _he_ came into my life as though dropping down from heaven itself. the necessity for immediately handling his injuries started me back into the old rut again and i was thrilled to discover that my finger-tips were as sensitive as ever. then i realized that since god was so good as to restore to me that which i feared had been lost forever, it would be wicked for me to remain shut up away from my fellows when so many suffering people were holding out their hands to me for aid. my prayer had been heard and i have resolved to go back once more to labor in the field that can never have an over supply of workers." what he said so seriously, so joyfully, thrilled perk to the core. he felt that both he and his chum jack had had at least a little to do with this loyal determination on the part of the once expert surgeon to again offer his services to the uncounted multitude of sufferers in every great city of the nation, and insofar as he could effect a cure, bring happiness to many a home that was now shrouded in darkness. later on, when perk had a chance to tell this remarkable happening to the deeply interested jack, and they had talked it all over, they came to the conclusion that the supposed loss of his skill as a result of his shock, was not the only reason causing doctor reeves to have that mysterious yearning to seek the solitudes of nature in an effort to shun his fellow men. he may have met with some bitter disappointment, perhaps from the hand of the woman he loved, who had proved faithless. but all this was none of their business and jack agreed with his pal when perk declared they were treading on forbidden ground in even speculating about it. "no matter what it was," jack ended the talk by saying earnestly, "he's apparently gotten over that upset. time heals wounds of the heart we know, and if he's the wonderful surgeon you say, he can do a heap of missionary work among the hospitals during the rest of his life. i'm mighty glad we've run across him and he seems to have fixed up buddy here just prime--says he'll be able to get back on his job in four weeks and be just as good as ever." "bully for doc. reeves!" exclaimed the enthusiastic perk, still a little dazed over the amazing coincidence of meeting the professional man to whom he owed so much. they found that the hermit--who would be called by that name no longer if he kept his new resolution--had a stone fireplace close by his shelter where he was accustomed to carrying on such cooking as was necessary. perk immediately took possession of the "cooking galley" as he was pleased to call the small addition to the shack where a meagre assortment of pots and pans were hanging, and proceeded to provide supper. he would not allow the proprietor to render the least assistance and also declined the offered help of suzanne, telling her she could do more good as a nurse than trying to help him. he had long been waiting just such an opportunity to "sling the grub" and was not going to be knocked out of this fine chance. jack, knowing how the other was enjoying himself, offered no objections so perk found himself monarch of all he surveyed and boss of the kitchen. perk dragged the clumsy dugout belonging to the late recluse to serve as a ferry between the anchored amphibian and the shore. later on jack saw him fetching a number of things up to the vicinity of the shack and chuckled, highly amused, to note that among them was the submachine gun with its belt of ammunition. he could readily surmise what that meant. perk must have remembered seeing that monster silvertip bear waddling along among the piled-up masses of rock not so very far distant from the shack of their present host and with some dimly defined notion in his head that he might wish to again play sentinel and guard to the camp, was determined to be in condition to meet any situation that might arise. oh! well, if it pleased perk to imagine dire things hovering over their heads, and if it afforded him real happiness to assume the duties of a posted sentry, why should any one wish to cheat him of such an innocent recreation? it could do no harm but on the other hand would give the vigilant one a feeling of satisfaction, thought jack. "only i do hope," jack was telling himself under his breath with a fond glance toward the object of his soliloquy, "if he's bound to save us all again, his victim turns out to be a little more ferocious than a wretched half-starved prairie dog, creeping up to smell out a bone or two thrown away after a camp supper." perk was a busy and willing worker for the next half hour, dodging in and out, bending over his cooking fire that had been coaxed to a point approaching perfection with several pots and pans resting on the large gridiron that the ex-hermit evidently used principally for roasting his potatoes in their skins, he being no great hand at achieving culinary triumphs. some men are born to one profession and others excel in quite another line. doc. reeves' specialty was surgery, that of jack might be set down as general excellence along the duties of an air pilot and also fairly well equipped to play his part as one of uncle sam's energetic secret service men while perk had a notion he shone in no one particular line, but could get up about as savory a meal, under existing conditions, as the best woods guide. he certainly surpassed himself on this particular occasion. the odors that soon began to permeate the atmosphere all around that lonesome spot caused jack to show uneasiness, as though he could hardly wait for perk to call them to partake of the glorious feast. "why, if this keeps on much longer," he told himself as he walked up and down near by as a very hungry man is apt to do when waiting for supper to be put upon the table, especially if it is in camp, where appetite reigns above ordinary likes and dislikes, "he'll have the whole neighborhood saturated with the smell of whatever he's cooking. if there's a hungry mountain lion or a half-starved grizzly within a mile of here, he'll make a trail to this nook right away. what's that emerson wrote, that if a man invents the best mouse trap ever built the world will make the deepest kind of a trail flocking to his woods cabin to patronize him? and perk's sure _some cook_, i admit!" the agony was finally brought to an end and they settled down on bits of logs and a couple of ricketty chairs the self-exiled surgeon had manufactured at some time or other. a small table, also home-made, fairly groaned under the most bountiful supply of "camp grub" imaginable and the grinning perk eager to serve it out in generous portions. even the injured buddy developed an astonishing appetite. doc. reeves, now radiant and full of good nature at the way he had been brought back to his one consuming passion, which he feared was gone forever, declared he had not sat before such a gorgeous feast for many a long year. suzanne too, saw fit to add her praises while she ate and ate, as if trying to make up for the several meals she had missed while laboring under such a heavy load of suspense. as for the cook himself, he showed no sign of his late labors having diminished his capacity for stowing away tremendous quantities of food, as those who prepare meals so often declare. but there was enough for all and a bit to be thrown out for the squirrels, rabbits, or any larger species of hungry mountain denizens that might care to investigate the appetizing odors. they sat around in the faint light of the only lamp available, used only occasionally by the doctor on account of the difficulty of transporting kerosene such a distance on muleback, and talked on a variety of subjects. buddy was of course eager to learn what was being said concerning the mystery of his disappearance and must have been duly thrilled when jack and perk recounted some of the many things they had read under flaming head-lines in the daily papers coming under their observation from time to time. when questioned, he told in simple words just what had happened. it was nothing original, just such an accident as might happen to the most skillful of air pilots, though not all of them live through the experience. chancing to see the little lake which was not by any means the first time he had glimpsed it, since on several occasions he had flown above it while carrying his mail pouches to and from airports, he had tried to make a halfway safe landing on the strip of sand at that end of the round pond but failing by a dozen or more feet, plunged into the water. he lost all knowledge of what happened, coming to his senses a long time afterwards to find himself on a cot with the recluse just completing his wonderful job of attending to his broken arm and the many bruises about the rest of his person. dr. reeves said but little, seeming quite content to listen to the voices of his little company of guests thrown so unexpectedly upon his hands but it was easy to see he was far happier that night than he had been for many years, with the future again beckoning and looming up as a wide field where he could apply his services in behalf of his fellows. it was decided that buddy must keep his cot for the night. they made up one for suzanne with several fairly well cured animal pelts, mementoes of certain beasts the recluse had shot or trapped, either for their skins or to be used as a change of diet. jack and perk were old campaigners, and could find an apology for a bed on the ground near the fire while the surgeon said he meant to sit on a chair in the kitchen and spend the night in general rejoicing over his good fortune in "coming back." jack teased his chum a bit when he saw the other lugging that sub-machine gun over to where he was going to sleep, but perk only grinned, and nodded, as though he really enjoyed the prospect of once more remaining on guard. xxix no prowlers allowed perk was more than usually sleepy when he lay down with the gun close by the fire. perhaps he really did not expect to be called upon to defend the camp since the doctor had assured him there had never been any serious trouble from the inmates of the wilderness, though he admitted he had now and again found some evidence in the morning that a large beast had been prowling around while he slept behind a closed door. but having made up his mind to do his full duty, perk was not to be turned aside either through arguments or ridicule. he lay there doing his best to keep awake by reviving long since buried memories of his activities across the sea when in france. then he "passed out," as he himself would have termed it, to awaken and find the fire in need of replenishing. there was an abundance of wood close at hand so, still half asleep, perk got to his knees, picked up an armful and rising to his full height stepped over to the smoldering fire. as he cast his burden on the red ashes some of the smaller stuff started up instantly, causing the immediate vicinity to appear as though illuminated by a flash of vivid sunlight. perk heard a sound that was not unlike a loud sniff. this startled him and his returning animation was hastened when he caught a low growl, thrilling him to the center of his being. instantly he stared in the quarter from which these strange sounds proceeded. a movement concentrated his attention on a certain point. some object that resembled a bulky, dark, living thing commenced to rise up until the startled perk though it would never stop growing. there it was standing before him--the same monster he had seen from his seat aboard the air ship. a full-grown grizzly, the "mountain charlie" of the california ranchers and hunters, a very giant of devilish ferocity and unafraid of anything that walked on two or four feet, monarch of the foothills and canyons of the mighty rockies! the grizzly growled again, this time with added vigor as if wanting the wretched invader of his hunting grounds to thoroughly understand he would put up with no trifling and that he must speedily "skip the ranch" unless he wished to be scattered around the whole neighborhood in pieces. "holy smoke!" that was as far as perk got in starting to express his agitated feelings for the standing bear had made a movement that started him toward the campfire and the amazed aviator. perhaps by this time jack may have also awakened but perk gave no heed to such a possibility. as the self-appointed guardian of the slumbering camp it was up to him to stand like a rock in its defense. no right or left tackle on the gridiron ever made a more furious plunge in an effort to stop the hurtling progress of the enemy player carrying the pigskin toward the goal posts than perk set in motion just then, urged on as with a goad by the necessity for clutching that firearm upon which he was depending so much. he landed in a huddle, snatched at the gun, dropped it in his wild excitement, pawed around for what seemed a full agonized minute but which evidently lasted less than five seconds and finally found himself clutching the object of his mad groveling. even then he got mixed a bit and was presenting the butt of the weapon toward the oncoming growling bear when, recognizing his mistake he managed to swing it around. another blunder just then might have cost him dear but perk, now fully alive to the emergency cooled down sufficiently to move the little lever which would start the machine-gun to spitting out its discharges in one--two--three style as long as the belt of cartridges held out and he, perk, refrained from shutting off the mechanism by which it was worked. the bear was not twenty feet away when this hurricane of lead began to rain upon him with oft repeated thuds. his growls had been followed by the most dreadful roarings to which those near-by cliffs had ever echoed. he dropped down on all fours, shuffled this way and that, like a boy trying to evade the attacks of a swarm of maddened yellow jackets whose nest he had the temerity to strike with a club. but all without avail, since the now equally aroused perk had only to switch the muzzle of his little cannon a trifle to continue bombarding him right along. the gigantic beast rolled over this way and that, stroke to get upon his feet again, his bellows becoming less vociferous as his wounds increased with frightful rapidity. there could be no telling when perk would ever have stopped firing only that a hand grasped his weapon and turned it upward toward the starry heavens while the voice of jack roared in his ear: "hold hard, brother, you've got him shot full of holes as it is. what's the use ruining his hide? some day you'll be proud to rest your feet on a rug made from a genuine old grizzly you potted all by yourself out here in the rockies." so the fully aroused perk managed to curb his warlike spirit a bit and shut off the flow of deadly missiles. "gosh amighty jack, did you see me knock the ole hippopotamus silly when i opened on him right smart? some ruction while she lasted, i'll tell the cockeyed world! gee whiz! he's kicked his last an' there he lies as quiet as a lamb." "he's your meat okay, buddy," jack assured him after which he turned to explain the meaning of the frantic outburst of firing for both dr. reeves and suzanne were in the doorway of the shack, demanding to know what it was all about and if anybody were hurt. "huh! on'y one that's hurt real bad lies over yonder with his toes pointin' up to the skies!" laughed the proud marksman. "reg'lar he-grizzly, with a bellow like a range bull. tried to rush me, don't you know, but it turned out he couldn't chaw lead an' so he quit cold. an' me, i'm figgerin' on having the smartest rug you ever set eyes on made from his hairy hide if i c'n trim it from his carcass come mornin'. some stunt for little perk to put on the boards, if i do say it myself, as oughtn't." "queer how i have managed to keep the peace with that scamp for so long," observed the doctor with a whimsical laugh, "and then he chooses to go on the warpath just when i happen to have company for the first time in years. but that was the proper caper, perk, and you deserve to have a beautiful rug to show when telling this thrilling exploit to your grandchildren." "wow! go easy on a feller, please, doc," expostulated the embarrassed perk, "why, i ain't even got a girl yet. you see, they gimme the razzberry, mebbe 'cause i'm so handsome. but i'm meanin' to get that rug fixed up, if the pelt c'n be dragged off the big varmint in the mornin' an' that's that." examination showed that although a number of the bullets sprayed forth so promiscuously by the ardent sportsman had punctured the hide of the bear, these small holes would not prevent its being repaired and made useful, if one chose to spend a little time and cash for the desired result. so while perk absolutely refused to call his vigil off and get some sleep, he had the comforting assurance that his work had not gone for naught. "yeah! don't try to cramp my style, partner," he told jack who was trying to argue that lightning seldom struck twice in the same place, "course i understand how that grizzly ain't goin' to gimme another scare, but how do we know that he ain't got a mate an' if she comes prowlin' around this roost an' runs across her big boy lyin' there all bloody and cashed in, why she might go on a tear an' smash things into kindlin' wood. yep, i'll finish the night on my post. time to pick up any lost sleep when we're back in old cheyenne jest loafin' an' waitin' for orders to start out on a fresh job." knowing how stubborn perk could be when he took a notion, jack made no further attempt to persuade him and the last he saw of the bear-killer, perk was sitting there, his back against a stump, with the formidable machine gun across his knees, all set for business at the old stand. let all the silvertips in the entire rocky mountain section step up and give him a dare, with that wonderful gun that reminded him of old days in france when he was with the la fayette escadrille, flying for france and her allies, he felt equal to a full dozen of the shaggy beasts. so the balance of the night passed and finally came the dawn of a new day that would thrill the nation with the startling news covering the finding of the missing air-mail pilot. xxx bringing in their man with breakfast out of the way jack called what perk termed a "reg'lar council o' war," for there were numerous matters that would have to be settled before they could take off and head for civilization. dr. reeves gave it as his opinion that if great care were exercised, buddy could be transported to the nearest town but the injured mail pilot absolutely refused to go unless his prized letter bags accompany him, such was his devotion to duty. then there was perk also as set on having that valued bear skin, removed with the help of the doctor, who had learned the art of skinning an animal while cast upon his own resources. besides, there would be two others aboard the amphibian which was apt to make things a bit crowded. however, dr. reeves soon settled the matter by declaring he did not mean to accompany them. another day, if jack and perk wished to have it so arranged, they could come for him. he had some things to accomplish that would take a few hours and there was no necessity for him to be on hand when buddy reached town to create the wildest kind of excitement. indeed, the eminent surgeon admitted he rather shunned anything that would be apt to put him in the limelight. "if there's anything i'd dislike," he told them modestly, "it would be to find myself in the spotlight i hope to just slip back into the harness again and the public need know nothing save that i have changed my mind about retiring from the profession for good, having discovered that there is still more or less usefulness in my brain and fingers that ought to be put to the service of suffering humanity." so it was arranged and without more delay than was absolutely necessary they managed to get buddy aboard the amphibian, jack and perk having arranged an original floating dock that could be pushed alongside the cloud-chaser, rather than try to work the plane ashore. the transfer was duly carried out and with such care that buddy felt very little pain. next the air mail, so long delayed in delivery, was stacked in various cavities so as to not take up more room than was necessary together with a rather messy bundle, perk's prized future bearskin rug which he seemed to value more highly every time he gave it a look. everything was now ready for the hopoff and jack figured on no trouble whatever in effecting that since the lake was long enough to permit a fair run and immediately after leaving the water he expected to start banking so as to circle and climb upward. dr. reeves shook each of his new found friends by the hand and was unusually warm in saying his goodbye to the happy suzanne. the bravery shown by the newly fledged aviatrix in taking great chances of meeting disaster when striking out to join those who were searching for signs to tell where the young air mail pilot had crashed, aroused his full admiration and he did not hesitate to tell suzanne as much, greatly to the delight of the listening buddy. standing on the sandy shore of crater lake the man who had come back watched the wonderful amphibian, of which the two pilots were so proud, rush across the surface of the lake, the first modern flying boat to ever splash through those ice-cold waters, and then jumping upward, cleave the air like a monster bird, circling twice, three times, to finally take off in a bee line for the town where jack and the others had passed the preceding night. they arrived at their destination before an hour had passed and amidst the most intense excitement and a growing, cheering mob of men, women and children, the injured mail pilot was taken to the hospital, there to be cared for until dr. reeves joined him later on. of course suzanne refused to be parted from her buddy. she claimed to be a pretty fair nurse and indeed, her very presence acted like a tonic to the patient who could not keep his sparkling eyes off her pretty face for more than a minute at a time. jack had impressed every one with his desire for secrecy. if it could be avoided, no mention of his name or that of perk, or their pictures, was to be given to the bustling newspaper men who would quickly be rushing in from every quarter by motor, train and airship, eager as hounds in the leash to grab up bits of news that could be woven into one of the most thrilling stories of the day to set the whole country agog, east, west, north and south. thanks to the care thus taken, the real facts connected with the finding of buddy warner were fairly well kept from the public press. all sorts of fantastic accounts were published and some even managed to bring out the names of the pair most intimately connected with the great stunt but they were so distorted that perk had considerable fun in trying to make them out. he declared a wizard would have his hands full with the job and that most people must believe the modest heroes, who fled before being interviewed were foreigners, to judge from their unpronouncable names. wishing to finish his work as soon as possible so that he and perk could clear out before most of the keen-eyed reporters arrived, jack concluded to hurry back to the lake, pick up dr. reeves and what few things he would like to carry away from the hideout where he had spent so many solitary years and once he had been landed in the airport, say a hurried goodbye to all and pull out eastward bound for cheyenne. that was the way jack ralston usually put things through. while most others would be still making up their plan of campaign, jack was apt to be doing things with a rush and getting results. they had followed the best rules of the great organization in which they were humble cogs, let no grass grow under their feet, found what they sought and, with a garrison finish, brought in the man they were after and whose name was on everybody's lips during those few hectic days. duty done, it was up to them to vanish from the picture in order to keep the public from knowing how the government's secret service had been mainly responsible for the finding of the missing air-mail pilot. and so that same afternoon, while fresh squads of eager newspaper men were arriving hourly at the hitherto almost unknown town that had become famous over night, jack and his pal were bound east, with a consciousness that another triumph could be laid at their door, even if, as happened so many times, the full story must be kept under cover so that the people of the underworld, in which so many of the activities of the service were conducted might not be made familiar with the names and faces of its most energetic workers and thus be placed on their guard. of course it would not be long before further instructions might be expected from the washington headquarters detailing jack and perk to some fresh field of labor where once more they would find themselves pitted against some of the most nimble-witted lawbreakers known to modern days. that the adventurous pair would acquit themselves with credit can be taken for granted for they were always earnest, hard workers and as a rule able to accomplish the most difficult of jobs submitted to their charge by those who managed all such matters in the national capital. in the pages of the next volume of this series of thrilling stories covering the exploits of the sky detectives, the title of which is "_the sky pilot's great chase_; or, _jack ralston's dead-stick landing_" will be found further lively happenings when the daring pair are sent forth to cross the international boundary and speed into the far north in the effort to apprehend a fugitive from justice whose arrest and return to washington had become a matter of the greatest moment to the authorities. how they outwit the lawbreakers and finally get their man, makes this a story replete with thrills and exciting situations. sant of the secret service some revelations of spies and spying. by william le queux published by hodder and stoughton ltd, london. sant of the secret service, by william le queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ sant of the secret service, by william le queux. preface. about gerry sant. to those who, like myself, have moved in the continental underworld of spies and spying, the name of "sant of the secret service" is synonymous with all that is ingenious, resourceful, and daring. in the intelligence departments of london, paris, rome, and new york, the name of "sant of the secret service" is to-day one to conjure with. cheerful, optimistic, and the most modest of men, gerry sant has seldom spoken of his own adventures. the son of a certain nobleman who must here remain nameless, and hence the scion of a noble house, he has graduated through all stages of the dark and devious ways of espionage. our first meeting was ten years ago, in the tribune at the battle of flowers at san remo, where, to be exact, we were fellow-members of the committee, and it is because of our old friendship, and the fact that we have been fellow-spies up and down europe, that he has permitted me to write down these intensely absorbing memoirs of exciting and unrecorded adventures in defeating the hun. william le queux. _devonshire club, london, _. chapter one. espionage in piccadilly. the place: the kerb in front of the criterion at piccadilly circus. the time: five minutes past three on a broiling afternoon in july. as an idle lounger, apparently absorbed in contemplation of the ceaseless tide of human traffic that ebbed and flowed, i stood gazing along the famous london thoroughfare. in truth, i was keenly alert to every movement about me, for i had extremely important secret service work in hand. i took out a cigarette, tapped it mechanically, and slowly lit it preparatory to crossing the road to shaftesbury avenue, when suddenly, from the procession of hurrying vehicles, a taxi detached itself and drew up to where i stood. i caught a momentary glimpse of a woman's eager face half shaded by a fashionable hat. the next moment i was seated beside her, and we were bowling smoothly along piccadilly. "_ah, mon cher monsieur gerry_!" exclaimed my pretty companion. "well, has anything serious occurred?" she asked breathlessly, with her fascinating french accent. "listen, my dear madame, and i will explain," i replied. "hecq has sent me over from paris in order to see you. i arrived only this morning, and am returning this evening. something very serious is on foot, and hecq wants you to get leave of your chief, and come over to help us." and here perhaps i may introduce my companion a little more fully. gabrielle soyez was a female agent of the british secret service, who had distinguished herself in her profession times out of number, both before and since the outbreak of war. dark-haired and handsome, she inherited from her french father that seemingly irresponsible and irrepressible gaiety which so many of her countrywomen exhibit. from her english mother, no doubt, she had acquired the sterner, almost masculine, qualities which her femininity concealed but did not suppress. a splendid linguist, speaking several european tongues to perfection, she could, on occasion, pass as a native of some other countries. and one of her most amazing feats had been a journey right across germany from holland in wartime, in the character of a young german fraulein travelling to take up a position as governess in east prussia. added to her linguistic abilities, she possessed nerves of steel and a quick, subtle brain, which saw the real significance of many an almost unnoticeable incident. nothing was too big or too small for her attention. i knew her well. i had worked with her in more than one affair of international importance, and it was at my suggestion that armand hecq, the astute chief of the french international secret service bureau, had applied for her to assist in the difficult task that lay before us. "something fresh this time?" queried the _chic_ little lady, as we drove along. "and, pray, who has applied for me?" "i have," was my reply. "a very difficult task is before me, involving the risk of many lives, and you are the only woman i know in whom i can place absolute trust." "except doris, eh?" she flashed out, turning to me with a quizzical smile. she was referring to doris rae, my well-beloved, who lived with her mother in a quaint old timbered house buried deep in worcestershire. in the stress of my war-work i had seen her but seldom for the past two years, for i was constantly on the move, but the bond between us was none the less true and perfect. and i nodded to my companion, with a laugh. the time slipped by as i gave madame gabrielle her instructions. "to-day is tuesday," i said as we parted. "i shall expect you on friday in paris at the orleans station. the express for bordeaux leaves at eight twenty-seven. watch for me, and enter another compartment of the train without speaking. somewhere on the journey i will contrive to hand you your passport." "but what is the nature of this inquiry, monsieur sant?" madame gabrielle broke out. "well, to be frank," i replied, "the french admiralty report that the enemy has established a new secret submarine base off the spanish coast. we are out to find it, and, what is more, to carry out reprisals on the pirates." madame, seeing a good chance of a desperate adventure, grinned with satisfaction. "_tres bien_," was her only comment. so we parted, she to her hotel, i to wile away the few hours that remained to me before the departure of my train from victoria. i went along to "white's," in st james's street, for a cup of tea, and, after buying some packets of dutch cigarettes--which i purchased with a purpose--looked in at my own flat in curzon street. the place seemed close and musty nowadays. after a brief conversation with doris over the telephone, i started out to walk to the station. but i was not to get away from london without a startling surprise. i have never been able satisfactorily to account for the adventure which befell me as i strolled through st james's park on my way to victoria. whether i was the subject of an attack by a mere footpad, or by some tool of our enemies who knew of my work and mission, i cannot say. but one of those strange premonitions, which come so frequently to men who, like myself, carry their lives in their hands, as all spies do, undoubtedly saved my life. since i left madame gabrielle the weather had changed. heavy clouds had rolled up, as if a storm were threatening, and it had grown very dark. having time to spare, i had intentionally made a detour from my direct road, and i was in a lonely pathway when something, i know not what, made me suddenly face round, with every nerve and muscle braced for instant action. i was only just in time. from the grass at the side of the pathway a man leaped at me. in the gloom i caught sight of his upraised arm and the flash of a knife. it is hard to catch the practised student of jiu-jitsu unawares, and that fascinating form of self-defence has been one of my special hobbies. like a flash i jumped in to meet the charge of my assailant. before his knife could descend my right arm was crooked into his and i had his wrist in the grip of my left hand. flinging my whole weight forward, i wrenched his right arm savagely backward and downward. with a half-stifled scream of pain the man toppled over backward, his head striking the ground with a crash that left him senseless. here was a pretty coil! i dared not wait to give the man into custody, for that would have meant police inquiries and endless publicity, to say nothing of missing my train and a fatal delay to my important mission. and just now i could not afford publicity. so i decided to leave him alone, to take his chance and make his own explanation, if necessary. picking up his knife, i thrust it deeply into a flower-bed, and, stamping it well down with my heel, hurried on to the station, and was soon on my way to france. who and what my assailant was i never heard. but i pondered over the incident a good deal on my journey, for it may have meant that my mission was already known. still, this was unlikely, so i merely decided to keep an extra sharp look-out. on friday, at the hour i had appointed with madame gabrielle, i passed the barrier and walked along the platform of the orleans station in paris, where in the summer twilight the express, with its powerful, constantly exploding locomotive, stood ready for the long run across france to the spanish frontier. i bought a copy of _le soir_ at the bookstall, and while doing so my eye fell on a rather shabbily-dressed, insignificant-looking little man who apparently was lounging absently about. every "natural" spy, if i may use the term--and i think i am one of them--possesses a large measure of that intuition which is somewhat akin to a woman's power of frequently jumping to a perfectly correct conclusion without the trouble of logically working a problem out. the things which matter in our calling are often seemingly the most trivial. there was nothing about this shabby little stranger to call particular attention to him, yet from the moment i saw him i felt instinctively that in some way my lot and his were bound up together. and, try as i would, i was unable to shake off that feeling. how far i was correct the sequel will show. as i entered the train i saw madame gabrielle, carrying her dressing-bag and followed by a porter with her hand luggage, pass the window of my compartment and enter a first-class carriage nearer the front of the train. her eyes met mine as she passed, but she gave no sign of recognition. of the little shabby man i saw nothing, though i kept a sharp look-out, and i concluded at last that he had left the platform. all through that night the train roared onward by way of orleans and tours down to bordeaux. i slept, as i usually do, but dreamed in a manner quite unusual with me. throughout the night my sleeping thoughts were harassed by that shabby little man who had, i seemed to feel no doubt, witnessed my departure with a perfectly definite object. perhaps i may be permitted to say here a few words about myself. i am a cosmopolitan, the subject of no country, though through my parents my sympathies are more english than anything else. british when in england, i am a frenchman in france, an italian in italy; i can be a german in germany, or a spaniard in spain. the explanation is, of course, that i have led a wandering life, being of almost every nationality by turn and nothing for long. my adventures have been facilitated by the fact that i happen to have known several languages from my earliest childhood. whoever is born in smyrna, as i was, has truly a ready-made profession in the matter of languages. at ten years old most lads in smyrna can speak four or five tongues, and, in addition, i developed early a peculiar gift for languages, and an insatiable desire to speak as many as possible. thus, all the principal european languages became equally familiar to me, and i speak them all almost as well as if each were my mother tongue. it was to this gift of languages that i owed my entrance to the ranks of the french secret service. when still quite a boy i found myself, through a peculiar chain of circumstances, a homeless outcast in paris. i had been tramping the boulevards, and, tired and hungry, had sat down with my back resting against a big tree. i was half asleep when i was roused by two men talking in a queer dutch patois which i happened to understand. i suppose they thought they were alone, or, at any rate, that no one who might overhear them would be likely to understand their lingo. they were laying their plans for a daring raid on the house of a famous paris banker. boy as i was, the situation fascinated me, and as night drew on i shadowed the men and was the means of bringing about their capture under dramatic circumstances. they proved to be a much-wanted pair of international crooks. the affair brought me some credit with the french police, and in the end, finding out the value of my linguistic achievements, they began to employ me on small undertakings. i did well, was gradually entrusted with more important work, and was finally given regular employment. such was my introduction to the world of espionage. but to return to my story. at six o'clock on saturday morning we drew into the great bastide station at bordeaux, where the train had half an hour's wait. i alighted with all the other dishevelled passengers, to scramble to the buffet for our _cafe an lait_ and _brioche_. in the scramble i pushed past madame gabrielle, who looked somewhat untidy after an obviously sleepless night, and as i did so i slid into her hand a little parcel screwed up in brown paper. in it was a note containing certain instructions, together with her passport, bearing her photograph in the name of gabrielle tavernier, described as "variety artiste." so perfectly self-possessed was she that, although she had not seen me--i had pushed up behind her--she never even turned her head as the note slipped into her hand. it was this self-control which made her an invaluable helper; nothing ever seemed to take her by surprise, or to betray her into a hasty word or action. i had just taken my first sip of coffee, when, glancing across the big restaurant, i caught sight, among the crowd of third-class passengers who were thirstily quaffing their bowls, of that same shabby little man whose presence on the platform in paris had given me such an unpleasant shock. evidently he had managed to elude my observation, and had joined the train without my seeing him. i had been beaten at my own game! i had thought i had shaken him off, and his presence was an intensely disagreeable surprise. there was, of course, no very obvious reason why he should not be a perfectly harmless fellow-traveller, but i was absolutely convinced in my own mind that his presence here in bordeaux was in some way connected with my mission, and that it boded me no good. slipping from the station, i hurried across to the place du pont, where i knew there was a public telephone. i knew, of course, the password which "cleared the lines" for official messages, and in less than ten minutes i was in communication with armand hecq, at his house at st germain, outside paris. to him i briefly explained how matters stood. "i quite understand, sant," he said. "leave matters to me and continue your journey. _bon voyage_! i shall read the _matin_ every day." then i rang off and hurried back to the station, just in time to catch the train as it drew out for the "cote d'argent," "the silver coast," as the french call that beautiful biscayan seashore between the estuary of the gironde and the golden sands of spain. through the miles of flat pine woods of that lovely marsh country called the landes, where the shepherds stride on their high stilts and watch the trains go by, we sped ever south, by way of the ancient town of dax and on to sun-blanched bayonne. now we were rapidly approaching the spanish frontier, and i wondered what was transpiring between hecq, in paris, and the officials at hendaye, the last french station, where the agents of police were stationed to prevent german spies from entering france by that particular back door. i was soon to learn that hecq had not been idle. late in the afternoon the train pulled up at hendaye, and, as it seemed to me, had hardly halted at the platform when i caught sight of my shabby little man being escorted from the station in the relentless grip of a couple of stalwart french gendarmes. evidently hecq was taking no chances, and i breathed a sigh of relief at the removal of my incubus. it turned out later that the shabby little man was a clever german spy, and, of course, he paid the invariable penalty. very soon the train moved across the long bridge over the river to irun, and beyond. thus we arrived at length at san sebastian, the brighton of spain, at that moment in the full height of the sea-bathing season, and crowded with a motley assembly of europeans of all nationalities, with, of course, a liberal sprinkling of desperate adventurers ever on the look-out for any crooked undertaking that promised plunder and profit. our plan, of course, was to avoid the slightest appearance of hurry. anything in the shape of undue eagerness and haste might well mean arousing the suspicions of the spanish authorities, who, being neutral, might very easily arrest us both (especially if i were recognised, as was always possible) as secret agents of the allies. i entered an open cab and drove to the old hotel ezcurra, where in past days i had eaten many a meal and drunk many a bottle of choice wine. madame gabrielle, in accordance with our arrangements, had gone to the hotel continental in the paseo de la concha, the establishment most patronised by the gay society of madrid, who loved to show off their paris gowns and to exhibit, too often in the most plebeian fashion, the wealth which had come to them as a result of the war. for three days i remained at the ezcurra, so pleasantly situated behind the lovely lime-trees in the paseo de la zurriola, and to which the smart, chattering officers of the unwarlike garrison, in their grey uniforms and peaked caps, resorted every evening. i had previously decided upon the character i would assume; it was that of a dutch theological student. i gave out that i spoke no spanish--of course i spoke dutch--and pretended a vast interest in visiting the ancient churches--san vincente in the old town, santa maria at the ascent of the mont urgull, and the beautiful old churches of hernani and azpeitia, as well as the prehistoric rock caves of landarbaso. all the time, of course, i was keenly on the alert, my ears ready for any scrap of information that might chance to come my way. one day i had been visiting the little village of azcoitia, the birthplace of loyola, the founder of the jesuits. at a pleasant old _fonda_ close by i had dropped in for a dish of _olla_, that kind of stew so dear to the spanish palate, when, at a table near by, i noticed two middle-aged men who quite obviously were not spaniards. apparently they were italian, for they spoke that language, and their clothes had obviously been made by an italian tailor. but i noticed instantly a fact which at once aroused my suspicion--the boots they wore were of german manufacture! men's nationality and habits are often betrayed by their footwear, and my observations on the boots and shoes of people of both sexes have seldom led me wrong. indeed, i always pay the closest attention to clothes, for nothing will so completely "give away" an assumption of a pretended nationality so promptly as an error in dress. every scrap of clothing i was wearing had been bought in holland, and i was sure of my disguise. my suit i had purchased of buijze, in the kalverstraat in amsterdam. the pseudo-italians, carefully got up as they were for the part they were playing, had forgotten one important item, and i had little difficulty in coming to the conclusion that they were really germans. i decided to keep a sharp watch on them. the question was: were they watching me? i dawdled over coffee and cigarettes till they rose to leave, when i paid my bill with the intention of tracking them back to san sebastian. unfortunately i was baulked immediately. fond of exercise, i had walked out to azcoitia; the two strangers had driven, and i had the mortification of seeing their carriage start for the city. it was useless to attempt to follow; they were out of sight long before i could have hoped to get the slow-moving spaniards to provide me with a carriage. there was nothing for it but to return as i had come, and keep a sharp eye open for the mysterious strangers. it was evident that, if they really knew me, they must have satisfied themselves that for the present, at any rate, i was actually idling, and that there was "nothing doing." returning to the ezcurra, i wrote out an advertisement which i sent to a certain address in paris. i knew that it would appear immediately in the "personal" column of the _matin_. it was in french, but the english translation read: "isis.--mother has fortunately passed crisis, and going on well.--felox." this advertisement, i knew, would appear both in london and rome, as well as in paris. to the uninformed it would appear innocent enough, but certain persons in the allied capitals knew that "felox" was myself, and, reading the announcement, would be reassured as to the progress of my secret mission. next day i spent idling about the beautiful blue bay of la concha, taking my evening _aperitif_ at the casino, and after dinner i spoke to madame gabrielle over the telephone. i told her, of course, about the two mysterious strangers, giving her as full a description as possible of their appearance, and urging her to keep the keenest watch for them. when i returned to the palm-lounge, a page-boy brought me a telegram addressed to van hekker, the name by which i was known at the hotel. opening it, i found that it had been sent from london. it was a cryptic message which read: "_fontan remains here. goods marked c.x.b. arrived fourteenth, twenty-three cases. awaiting samples second quality_." without giving the least sign that the telegram was of any special interest, i read it through and carelessly slipped it into my pocket. but the news it contained was startling. it put an entirely fresh complexion on affairs, and it meant that i must act without delay. unless within twenty-four hours or so i secured a triumph, my mission would be unsuccessful, and in all probability some two thousand human lives would pay the price of my failure. it was absolutely essential that i should discover without delay the identity of "fontan," for there lay the crux of my difficulty. with that knowledge in my possession i should have more than a chance of success; without it i was merely a blind man groping in the dark. chapter two. spying on spies. the bold course was the only one possible. i walked straight to the correo central, and, entering the _poste restante_, inquired casually for a telegram addressed to the name of fontan. "it was called for half an hour ago," was the gruff reply of the little old spaniard at the counter, who shot a quick look of suspicion at me, wondering, no doubt, how it came about that a second inquiry should be made for the same telegram. i bit my lip, but tried to appear unconcerned, and, after dispatching another message, went out filled with chagrin at having missed my objective by so narrow a margin. the time left me for action was growing desperately short, yet, rack my brains as i would, i could think of no way out of my difficulty. but my suspense was not to last long. as i walked slowly back to the ezcurra, my heart gave a sudden leap as i recognised, walking parallel with me on the opposite side of the road, one of the two mysterious "italians" whom i had encountered a few days previously in the little _fonda_ at azcoitia. he was walking at about the same pace as myself, and i very quickly realised that he was carefully "shadowing" me. but that was a game at which two could play! turning into a shop where there was a public telephone, i rang up madame gabrielle at the continental, swiftly explained the circumstances to her, and implored her to hurry to meet me, so that she could take off my hands the task of watching the "italians." purposely i set my steps toward the continental, making a sharp turn from my direct road to do so, and my suspicion that i was the object of the "italian's" attention was instantly confirmed. he turned at once to follow me, though apparently with so little of set intention that no one whose suspicions had not been aroused would have dreamed that he was being shadowed by a clever hand at the game. ten minutes later a grave-looking spanish lady, wearing an ample mantilla, came slowly towards me. i was eagerly on the look-out for madame gabrielle, but i confess that for a moment i never suspected that she and the spanish lady were identical. indeed it was not until she had attracted my attention by a slight but peculiar flip of the hand, which was one of our recognised private signals, that i realised who she was, so perfect was the disguise. however, my course was easy enough now; all i had to do was to indicate the "italian" to her, and i knew i could safely leave in her hands the task of finding out all there was to know about him. i had crossed the road and the "italian" was some fifty yards behind us. as madame gabrielle approached i turned down a side street, and, when i judged the "italian" must be near the entrance, walked smartly round the corner to meet him. i had judged the distance well; we came into violent collision, and with every indication of helplessness that i could assume i fell headlong into the roadway. instantly the "italian" was all helpfulness and apologies. he assisted me to rise and helped me to brush away some of the dust with which i was covered. of course i could not, for this occasion at least, speak italian, but the language of signs was sufficient, and at length i left him apparently much distressed, and started for the ezcurra, limping with an ostentatious painfulness which i hoped would effectually convince my antagonist, firstly, that i was really hurt, and, secondly, that i had not the smallest suspicion of his real identity and object. we signalled good-bye with every appearance of cordiality. i took good care not even to look round on my walk back to the hotel. i knew the "italian" would be safely under the observation of madame gabrielle, and that i should get the information i wanted in good time. my spirits rose. i felt sure that at length i was on the right track. returning to the hotel, i volubly explained my dirty and dishevelled appearance in full hearing of a small crowd of idlers in the lounge. i did not know whether among them there might not be another agent of our enemies, and, by way of concealing my suspicions, i spoke warmly of the essentially italian courtesy of my late antagonist. it came out afterwards that i had done a good stroke of work. the lounge did contain an enemy agent who was watching me, but so naturally was i able to speak that he actually reported that i had obviously not the smallest suspicion of the real calling of the mysterious "italian." until i received some word from madame gabrielle there was absolutely nothing that i could do, and i passed hour after hour in an inward fever of impotence and anxiety, though outwardly, i dare say, i was cool and unconcerned; one does not wear his heart upon his sleeve in the secret service! dinner came and i ate with an appetite, well knowing that at any moment a call might come which would tax my physical and mental powers to the uttermost. having finished my dinner, the big swiss porter came into the room and handed me a note, remarking in french: "this has just been brought by a boy, monsieur." inside it i found a plain visiting-card of the size used by gentlemen. there was nothing else. here, indeed, was the call to action. that plain visiting-card was a signal from madame gabrielle that she was hot on the scent, but that either because she feared she might be under suspicion, or would not run the risk of her message falling into the wrong hands, she could not write a letter. in any case it was an urgent call for urgent help. the hunt was up! towards us, urged by the full power of her twin screws, a british liner was being driven at top speed by her giant engines; awaiting her, securely hidden in some sheltered spot i had yet to find, was one of the undersea assassins of our enemy. and the lives of two thousand men, women, and children were at stake. at last the hour for swift, dramatic action had come. certainly matters had now assumed a very critical aspect. i hurried out along the broad, tree-lined paseo, where the moon was now shining brightly over the bay of san sebastian, to the hotel continental. here the gold-laced _concierge_ told me that madame tavernier had left about an hour before. "did she say where she was going?" i inquired. "yes, to santander," replied the _concierge_; "the hotel europa she gave as her address, so that we might forward her letters; she said she had not expected to leave so soon." the meaning of the visiting-card was now plain. evidently the resourceful madame gabrielle had made some important discovery. she dared not communicate with me, but, of course, she knew i would make inquiries, and for this reason she had left her address with the hotel porter. but why had she gone to santander? cost what it might, i must find the answer to that question. "what about the gentleman who was with her?" i asked the porter, making a blind shot to try to find out something. "gentleman?" he queried. "madame was alone in the omnibus except for an italian gentleman, who went to catch the same train to bilbao." "an italian gentleman!" i echoed. here might be the key to the mystery. "he was about forty--pale, with a dark-cropped moustache and rather bald--eh?" "yes," replied the man, "that is signor bruno." "what about his friend?" i asked. "he left for madrid by the early train this morning," was the reply. matters were now becoming clear. evidently the second "italian" had cleared off, leaving "signor bruno" in charge of the developments of the plot. i had now to find "bruno," and through him to get on the track of "fontan." pleased with my success, i slipped a few pesetas into the willing hand of the _concierge_ and left the hotel, directing my steps back to the ezcurra. why had madame gabrielle left for santander when obviously san sebastian was the real centre of the plot? the cryptic telegram i had received told us that. it was, in fact, a spy message sent from holland, which had been intercepted by the french secret service and duplicated to me; the real message, of course, had been duly handed to "fontan" at the post office in san sebastian. how to get to santander was now the problem. the last train had gone. but after half an hour's deliberation i hit upon a plan which at least held out a good promise of success. i returned to my hotel and gave strict orders that, as i was not feeling well, i was on no account to be disturbed until noon the following day. it was just two o'clock in the morning when i rose and exchanged my dutch-made clothes for another suit so glaringly redolent of the american tourist that no one, seeing me in them, would have associated me for a moment with the demure and retiring dutch theological student, whose absorbed interest in old churches had been the source of many a friendly joke at the hotel. a false moustache helped further in the metamorphosis, and when i looked at myself in the glass i felt tolerably certain that i should pass even a close scrutiny without arousing suspicion. still, i meant to take no chances. the hotel was now profoundly silent. here and there a single electric light glowed, left for the convenience of visitors who might be moving about late; but there was no night-porter, a fact which i had previously ascertained. carrying my boots in my hand, i stole noiselessly to a little side door, and, dropping a few spots of oil on the lock and bolts to obviate any sound of creaking, i opened it noiselessly and stepped out into the old-world courtyard. the moon was high and it was almost as light as day. but i had little fear of being observed; the courtyard could not be seen from the street, and at that hour there was little likelihood of anyone being about. the hotel garage was my objective. i had noticed a day or two before that among the visitors staying at the house was a young fellow who possessed a swift and powerful "indian" motor-cycle. i decided that the urgency of my business amply justified what might have looked like theft had i been detected. drawing from my pocket the bunch of skeleton keys which i usually carry, i succeeded after a few minutes of perplexity in opening the sliding door of the garage. with the help of my pocket flash-lamp, i picked out without difficulty the machine i wanted and filled up the ample petrol tank with spirit from one of the many tins lying about the garage. i was ready at last for my race to santander. after a hasty glance up and down the road to make sure no one was in sight, i wheeled the machine through the courtyard, under the old archway and out on to the broad roadway, closing and locking the door of the garage behind me to avoid suspicions being aroused. i knew the removal of the machine would probably not be noticed for a day, or perhaps two, as the young owner had gone off with a companion on a fishing excursion. when i had reached some distance from the hotel i lit the headlamp, started the machine, mounted and rode away. from the map i had carefully committed my route to memory, and i let the powerful machine "all out." travelling at considerably over fifty miles an hour, with the engine pulling as smoothly as a watch, i first went along the winding sea road, then away into the fertile valley of the oria and by the village of aguinaga, down to zarauz, which was on the biscayan beach again. the early morning came, balmy and beautiful, as, covered with dust, i shot down the steep winding road into the chief centre of the life of santander, that spacious promenade known as "the muelle," with its luxuriant gardens, from which i could see the blue mountain ranges of solares, valnera, and tornos beyond. once in the gardens, i dismounted, and, watching for an opportunity when i was unobserved, i wheeled the motor-cycle into some low bushes, where i abandoned it. thence i strolled down to the dock, where in a narrow, unclean street i soon found a dealer in second-hand clothes, of whom i purchased a most unsavoury rig-out. it was evident that the man was well used to proceedings of this kind, and, as his business quite clearly depended upon his knowing how to hold his tongue if he were paid for it, i paid him generously, and was quite assured my secret would be safe with him. he took me into a dark little den at the rear of his stuffy shop, where he helped me into my disreputable disguise, adding here and there a skilful touch which showed me plainly that he was no novice at the business. arranging with him to keep my own clothes until i called again, i sallied forth, quite confident that i had effectually destroyed all traces of my identity, and evaded the men who had been watching me at san sebastian. to further my plans i bought in the market a basket such as street hawkers carry and a quantity of oranges. having done this, i sought out a quiet corner, and, sitting down on the pavement, began eating some bread and olives i had bought, just as any other equally disreputable spanish pedlar might have done. i could hardly help laughing at the incongruity of my surroundings--gerald sant, to whom pretty well every fashionable hotel in europe was intimately familiar, taking his breakfast of bread and olives seated on the pavement in a santander slum. but my breakfast was only a part of the work i had to do. taking a cigarette from my case, i carefully slit it open, threw away the tobacco, and wrote a message upon the paper. then, rolling the thin scrap, i placed it within a quill toothpick, plugging the sharpened end with a scrap of orange peel. afterwards i inserted the quill into the centre of one of the oranges, carefully covering up the puncture and drying it. inside the quill was the translation, for madame gabrielle's benefit, of the "fontan" cable. then, in the guise of a poor fruit-seller, i sought out the hotel in the calle mendez where i knew that madame gabrielle had arrived. i knew, of course, that she would be eagerly on the look-out for me, and that, as she would guess i should be disguised, she would station herself in some prominent place, where i could see her at once. evidently, however, she did not expect me so soon. no doubt she had looked up the trains, and, knowing that i must have missed the last one the previous night, would naturally conclude that i would arrive about midday. the stratagem of the bicycle had evidently not occurred to her. i drifted slowly backwards and forwards in front of the hotel, and after a time had the intense satisfaction of seeing the "italian," signor bruno, come lazily out and seat himself in a comfortable chair in the ample porch. it was obvious that he was expecting someone, for his eyes constantly searched the long, straight roadway. a moment later madame gabrielle, daintily attired in the latest parisian mode and carrying a sunshade, strolled leisurely into the porch. she was accompanied by a lady, obviously spanish, with whom she had no doubt scraped a breakfast-table acquaintance. despite the need for hurry, i could not help being amused at her evident failure to recognise me. twice or three times i slouched past the hotel. the next time i caught her eye, and, as i made the almost imperceptible signal, i saw the answering flash of intelligence in her eyes. "what lovely oranges!" i heard her say to her companion. "i really must have some." and she rose indolently and came down the steps to me. as if i had heard and understood nothing, i placed myself directly in her path, saying in a loud, whining voice in spanish: "buy some naranjas, lady--do buy some. very fine naranjas." taking out her purse, madame gabrielle handed me a coin, and, as she did so, swung her sunshade round so as to interpose it directly between the "italian" and myself. with the coin came a tiny folded note, which passed so swiftly into my hands that there was no prospect of the "italian" observing it. "what beautiful fruit!" she said aloud; adding in a faint whisper: "be near the fountain in the gardens in half an hour." "thank you, lady," i whined in spanish in true hawker fashion, handing her the oranges. as i did so, i tapped one of them three times, taking care that she observed the action. it was enough for her swift intelligence. the next moment, touching my battered hat in respect, i slouched off, my basket on my arm, while she, apparently a summer visitor, carried the fresh-cut fruit, each with a leaf attached, just as dozens of others were doing when out for a walk before luncheon. i watched her return to the hotel, of course, to examine her oranges. lazily drifting along the road, i made my way to the gardens, and was soon stretched indolently in the sunshine within easy sight of the great fountain. under cover of my battered hat i read madame gabrielle's tiny note. it had evidently been written to be ready for a hurried meeting, and ran: "_they will meet to-night on the coast road a mile out of the town near the big oak. bruno and fontan will be there at ten-thirty. the attempt is to be made shortly. i dare not risk speaking_." but it was essential we should speak, and i had my plan cut and dried. when madame gabrielle came in sight, i was startled to see the "italian" following her. could his suspicions have been aroused, i wondered? hitherto madame gabrielle had been shadowing him; were the positions now reversed? i noticed she looked pale and anxious; it was evident something untoward had occurred. long before, we had taught ourselves to send messages in the morse code by finger movements, the raising or dropping of a finger representing the dots and dashes of the code. thus so long as we could see each other's hands we could communicate rapidly and silently; failing direct sight, we had only to tap out the message. gabrielle seated herself negligently on a seat and produced a book, which she read industriously, quite unconscious to all seeming of the disreputable fruit-seller lying asleep on the grass, his face shaded from the hot sun by his broad-brimmed hat. the "italian," in the meantime, had seated himself on a seat a few yards away. whether he suspected me i do not know; probably not. but beneath the brim of my hat i could see madame gabrielle's delicate hand and arm flung carelessly across the back of the seat. her fingers, screened from the italian's sight, rapidly ticked out their message. "i got your note; it confirms what i have found out. the attempt is to be made to-morrow night. bruno has been talking with a dark, sailor-looking man who, i think, must be fontan. i overheard them from the balcony outside their room. i suppose i must have made some sound, for bruno came out hurriedly on to the balcony. he looked as if he could kill me, and ever since he has been following me. i dare not attempt to follow him when he leaves the hotel this evening. the arrangement may be a blind; you must watch him all you can. i will risk everything to get a message to you if i hear any more, but i am afraid i can do no good now." "you have done very well," i signalled back. "go to the hotel and get on the 'phone to the british consul. tell him to recall jeans by wireless at once for instant action. i shall stake everything on to-night. after that, go straight back to san sebastian, and let it be clearly known in the hotel that you are going. we must throw bruno off the scent." madame gabrielle signified that she understood, and soon after got up and moved listlessly away. she had no sooner turned the corner than the "italian" rose and followed her. of me he took no notice whatever, and apparently he had not the least suspicion that madame gabrielle and i had been in communication. i was burning with impatience to be off, but i dared not hurry. the "italian" was evidently no fool. i lay still, apparently asleep, but keenly on the look-out. a few minutes later the "italian" suddenly returned; evidently he meant to make sure i had no sort of association with madame gabrielle. had i foolishly got up at once as soon as she went, his suspicions would almost certainly have been aroused. but i lay still, seemingly asleep, and, after a scrutinising gaze at me, he turned away, obviously satisfied. the course was clear now, always assuming that the rendezvous arranged between bruno and the supposed fontan was real and not pretended. but that i had to chance. as a matter of fact, the spot was well chosen for any business connected with the huns' submarine activities. it was in a lonely spot, the road ran near the edge of the cliffs, and the coast at that point was studded with deep coves where a lurking u-boat could lie concealed without much fear of detection. during the afternoon i saw madame gabrielle leave for the station in the hotel omnibus, the "italian" following in a cab. so anxious was he to make sure she had gone that, as i heard afterwards, he actually followed her to the train, and did not leave the station until after it had started. probably his suspicions were lulled by the pretty little frenchwoman thus leaving the field apparently clear for him; but, be that as it may, he later walked straight into our trap. chapter three. berlin's secret code. towards sundown i wandered along the coast road for some three miles, until i caught sight of a great crooked tree, which stood remote from the road at the head of a narrow cleft, through which a steep track descended to the beach. i had very little doubt, when i had thoroughly examined the place, that it was an ideal spot for the hun purposes. the pebbly beach sloped steeply into the water; it was evident that deep water came close in to the shore. the spot was far from any human habitation; the road was a lonely one, set back at this point at least a mile from the edge of the cliff. i knew that the superstitious spaniards were not fond of being about the cliffs at night, and that if the u-boat pirates were really using the coast as a secret base, they would, if they took ordinary precautions, run very little risk of detection. my first task was to find a hiding-place. after some deliberation i selected a thick clump of brushwood which grew about half a mile from the point at which the track from the beach rose to the top of the cliff. lying down at full length, i felt satisfied that i could see without being seen, and, pulling out the excellent pair of night-glasses with which i had taken the precaution to equip myself, i prepared for my vigil. just as sunset was darkening into night i caught sight of two men coming along the road. through my small pair of powerful glasses i instantly recognised one of them as the "italian." the other, no doubt, was fontan. their figures showed black and sinister in the last gleam of the sunlight. they were walking quickly, and fontan, if indeed it was he, carried in his hand a well-filled sack. as they drew near they left the road and made straight for the edge of the cliff, disappearing into the cleft almost beneath the very branches of the big tree. it was now or never for me, and, loosening my automatic in my pocket, i cast all prudence aside and raced at top speed for the cliff. arriving at the edge, i flung myself flat on my face and peered over. below, to my intense gratification, i could see assembled on the sands a dozen sailors in german uniforms, while only a few yards from the shore lay a big german submarine, its conning-tower and fore and aft guns showing clear of the long grey hull, which lay almost awash. the crew were being exercised along the sands, while fontan was handing to an officer a quantity of fresh vegetables, with a packet of letters and telegrams, from the sack. close by, the "italian" and another officer, evidently the captain of the u-boat, were in earnest talk. the light was failing rapidly, and soon it became too dark to see more. a lantern twinkled on the beach, and i could plainly hear steps and voices ascending the rough path to the top of the cliff. it was essential i should hear more, therefore i took the desperate course. swiftly climbing into the tree, i laid myself down at full length on a big branch which jutted out over the path. preceded by a sailor bearing a lantern, three men came up the path. two of them i knew to be the "italian" and the captain of the u-boat. the third was fontan, at whom i particularly wanted to have a look, for something in his walk reminded me of someone i had failed definitely to recall. as the sailor reached the top of the cliff he turned and swung the lantern so as to show the last few steps of the rugged path. its rays fell for a second upon the face of fontan, and i nearly fell from my perch with amazement. willi bernhard, by all that was wonderful! one of the kaiser's most expert spies, who was head of one of the departments of the koniggratzer-strasse, posing in santander as a humble boatman. no wonder i had failed to recognise him until i saw his face! "no need for me to come any farther," said the deep voice of the u-boat captain in german. "we shall lie here until midnight to-morrow, and will expect you at sundown with the latest instructions. i only want to make sure the others are ready at their stations. and then," he added, with a cruel laugh, "good-bye, _athabasca_!" the _athabasca_ was the liner i had come out to save! i gritted my teeth with rage at his brutal callousness, and when i thought of the two thousand or so lives dependent on the _athabasca's_ safety i could barely restrain myself from emptying my revolver into his head. that, however, would have been merely suicide, so i bided my time. the "italian" and bernhard, as i may as well call him now, wished the captain _au revoir_ and started to walk briskly to santander; the sailors returned to the shore. once the way was clear i wasted no time. i am a good runner, but never in my life have i covered three miles as quickly as i did that summer night in my dash for santander. i was elated beyond measure. for i had quite obviously dropped right on to the submarine supply-base, the existence of which had for months been a practical certainty. and, further, i had discovered the identity of "fontan," the german spy who was acting as the "post office" of the u-boats, and supplying them with all necessaries. it now remained only to smoke out the pirates' nest and destroy the whole brood! that cryptic telegram which was delivered to me at the ezcurra in san sebastian had been sent to bernhard--in the name of fontan--at the _poste restante_ in san sebastian and called for by the "italian." it was originally sent out by wireless, intercepted by the international bureau, and retransmitted to me for my information and guidance. in the code of the maritime department of the german secret service at kiel, when decoded it read: "_fontan remains here_." (the following message is sent to fontan at your _poste restante_.) "_goods marked c.x.b._" (the wireless call letters for the british liner _athabasca_, from new zealand, bound for london) "_arrived_" (meaning due to arrive) "_fourteenth_" (to-day was july th), "_twenty-three cases_" (twenty-three o'clock continental time, in our time p.m.). "_awaiting samples second quality_" ("samples" in the spy code meaning submarines--"second quality" german--"first quality" meaning british). thus the submarine commander was informed of the coming of the great liner and was lying in wait in the calm, secluded cove, ready to pounce out and sink the great ship with two thousand souls on board, including a large number of new zealand troops. racing into santander, i made for the british consul's house, presenting so disreputable a figure that it was only with the utmost difficulty that i secured admission to the consul himself. "has jeans arrived?" i asked breathlessly, and, hearing that he was on his way at full speed, i told the consul what i had learned. clearly it would be touch and go, but we had a little time in hand. the submarine would not leave the cove until after midnight on the thirteenth--to-day was the twelfth--so as to be just in time to place herself across the path of the oncoming liner. about seven o'clock next evening, lounging in the garish cafe suzio, with its noisy crowd, i saw a tall english traveller in grey tweeds saunter in. after he had swallowed a drink, i rose and went out, and he followed at once. it was the commander of the british submarine , and on receipt of my wireless he had come full speed to santander. at that moment his boat was lying off the port, skilfully screened behind a big british tramp steamer that was being used as a decoy. he had come ashore, apparently from the tramp, but really from his own boat, which had submerged the moment he left it. "well, sant," he said eagerly, "you've made a grand discovery. i got your wireless off finisterre last night, and came here full speed. wilson is outside bilbao, and matthews at gijon, both waiting. i have sent out a message to the squadron, and we hope to make a big bag. but we'll get this friend of yours in the cove first, anyhow. you'll come, of course?" i eagerly assented, and we went down to the water's edge, where the tramp steamer's boat was lying in charge of two men whose merchant jack rig-out hardly concealed the purposeful british bluejacket. we were soon on board the tramp. a few minutes later the submarine rose noiselessly to the surface, close alongside, and we went on board. "now for the cove," said jeans, as we dropped below. crawling along dead slow in order that the noise of our propellers might not betray us to the enemy, we approached the cove. by this time it was dark. a mile from the cove, screened by a promontory of rock, we rose noiselessly to the surface. a collapsible berthon boat, containing half a dozen armed men, put off to guard the approach to the beach, and once more we submerged and made for the cove, showing only six inches of our periscope above the rippling waves. there was just enough moonlight for our purpose, and as we drew near we were able to make out the enemy submarine, lying just awash, and presenting a magnificent target. very few of the crew were on shore; obviously they were getting ready to leave. we could make out the captain, walking up and down with two men that we knew must be the "italian" and bernhard. jeans swung our ship slowly into position; the torpedo crew grouped themselves round the bow tube and we waited the exact moment. it was necessary that most of the crew should be on board, for our landing-party dared not risk a possible fight on spanish soil, and if only one man escaped we should lose our chance of a big bag of the pirates, since a warning that the plot was discovered would at once be sent them by wireless. at last the men began to go aboard. they were using a small boat which would hold only three men, and, as luck would have it, only the captain at length was left on the shore, talking to the "italian" and bernhard. the small boat, with only a single sailor in it, was being pulled ashore to fetch him when jeans gave the single word "fire!" our boat reeled slightly to the shock of the departing torpedo. at the range of a few hundred yards, under such circumstances, a miss was out of the question. a few seconds later a ponderous "boom!" blanketed by the waters, told us our torpedo had exploded and, gazing eagerly into the mirror of the periscope, i saw a blood-red flash as the enemy ship apparently flew to pieces in a confused column of spray and smoke. she must have been ripped open from end to end and, of course, disappeared instantly, with every soul on board. "now for the rest," was jeans's laconic remark, as we swung out to the spot where we had put the landing-party ashore. they were there almost as soon as we were, bringing with them the captain, fontan, and the "italian." dazed with the surprise and shock of the explosion, they had made no resistance to the rush of our men. the captain, indeed, had recovered himself sufficiently to throw into the sea a case of papers, but a sailor had dived and recovered it, and to our intense delight we found it gave details of the exact plans which had been made for the destruction of the _athabasca_, with the precise points at which five successive u-boats were to lie in wait for her. this was luck indeed. soon we were on our way to intercept and destroy the first of the lurking huns. running at full speed on the surface, we kept our wireless busy, and soon had the satisfaction of knowing that our dispositions had been made to circumvent the enemy's plots. finally, nearing the scene of action, we submerged. i need not here describe the tension of the hours which followed. amid the steady hum of the machinery, jeans was constantly busy, now scanning the surface of the sea through our periscope, now giving a watchful eye to every detail of the submarine's complicated machinery. at last, just as the first grey streaks of dawn showed on the horizon, he called me to the periscope, and, reflected in the mirror, i saw faintly the thin plume of smoke from the funnels of the approaching liner. we knew that somewhere in that zone an enemy submarine lay awaiting her prey. for half an hour we were keenly on the alert, as we watched the approaching liner. the captain had been warned by wireless, and we knew there would be no lack of watchfulness on board. we could imagine the gun-crew standing at their stations, every eye strained for the first sight of the enemy. it came at last. almost directly between us and the liner a german u-boat thrust her periscope out of the water and launched a torpedo. we saw the big liner swing suddenly to her swiftly ported helm, and we heard afterwards that, owing to her steersman's promptness, the torpedo missed her bow by not more than a few feet. just as the liner turned the submarine broke water--why, i never could understand. probably her commander was too supremely certain that his shot had gone home, or else some error in navigation had brought him to the surface earlier than he intended, for obviously it was his duty to remain submerged until he was sure his work was done. be that as it may, it was his last mistake. as the grey whale-back of the submarine rose above the water the gun of the _athabasca_ spoke. the first shot was over, the second short. before the third was fired we had also bobbed up suddenly, and the u-boat found herself the target of two antagonists. there could be only one end to such a fight. almost simultaneously the third shot of the _athabasca_ and our first rang out, and both shells found their mark. one struck the conning-tower fair and square, blowing it clean away; the other crashed into the upper part of the hull, tearing a huge gap, and in a few seconds the enemy vessel had sunk with all hands, leaving only a flood of oil on the heaving surface of the sea to show where she had disappeared. next day i was on the sud express for paris, while madame gabrielle, whom i had recalled by wire, followed me a few hours later. from hecq in paris i learned the full sequel of our adventure. no news of the affair ever leaked out to the public. but it appears that, owing to the discovery of the plans from kiel in possession of the submarine's captain and our wireless messages, french destroyers and british submarines, operating together, had within twelve hours cleaned out the pirates' nest, sinking four more submarines and taking nearly sixty prisoners, most of whom are now behind barbed wire in wales. chapter four. the hidden hand in britain. "ah! my dear hecq--you have now set me a very difficult task--very difficult indeed!" i found myself saying a few weeks later, after i had mastered, with a good deal of trouble, a formidable dossier which had been laid before me by the astute chief of the french secret service, now promoted, by the way, to be chief of the international secret service bureau of the allies. though the time had been short since my return from spain, much had happened. at length "unity of command" in contra-espionage work had been realised as an absolute essential for securing a definite mastery over the incessant plottings of the huns, and, with the cordial goodwill of all, armand hecq--whose brilliant abilities had given him a commanding position--had been unanimously chosen for the much coveted post. "i admit it is extremely difficult," said the short, grey-bearded, alert little man, knocking the ash from his excellent cigar, leaning back in his cane deck-chair, and regarding me with an amused smile. "it is so difficult that i confess i do not see my way at all clearly. for that reason i have put the matter before you." "there can be no doubt about the seriousness of the affair," i said. "the french service have done very well so far, and so have our friends in london. we are quite well aware that during the past few weeks there has been an amazing recrudescence of german espionage, both here and in england, and even whitehall is seriously alarmed. there is good reason for believing that working drawings of the new british trench-mortars have, by some means, been smuggled over to germany. how they got out is a complete mystery, for the control at all the ports has been stricter than ever. yet van ekker has managed to get through to holland a message from berlin which leaves very little doubt as to the fact. it is undeniably serious, for the new mortar is a wonderful production, and i happen to know that it was intended to be one of the grand surprises in the allies' spring offensive." hecq grunted, and i paused. then i went on saying: "we have a pretty good idea of the traitor in the department concerned, and he is now safely under lock and key. unfortunately the mischief was done before he was even suspected, and the closest inquiries have failed to unearth any of his associates who would be regarded as in the slightest degree doubtful. it looks very much like a case of a hitherto thoroughly reliable man yielding to a sudden and overpowering temptation, while the real culprit--the man who pulled the strings-- remains undiscovered. no doubt count wedell and his precious propaganda department have a first-class man at work, and they have so cleverly covered up the tracks that the method of their latest coup remains a mystery. it is perfectly obvious that the subterranean work of germany is even now proceeding in france, italy, and great britain." "exactly, _mon cher_ sant. and you must take this particular matter in hand at once, and try to discover at least one of the fingers of what your good friends across the channel call so appropriately `the hidden hand.' for myself, i feel quite sure that at last, after much seeking, we have alighted on the source of the whole affair, so far as england and france are concerned." our conversation had taken place at armand hecq's house out at st germain, beyond paris. i had come post-haste from lausanne, where i had been engaged with poiry--an ex-agent of the paris surete--upon another matter. an urgent telegram from hecq had warned me that the new business was most important, hence i had lost no time in answering his summons. it was a warm afternoon, and we were seated out on the terrace overlooking the pretty garden, which was the hobby of the most remarkable and resourceful secret agent in all europe. to outward seeming armand hecq was a prosperous parisian financial agent, whose offices in the boulevard des capucines, opposite the grand hotel, were visited by all sorts of persons of both sexes. none, excepting those "in the know," suspected that these handsome offices, with the white-headed old _concierge_ wearing the ribbon of , were in reality no mere financial establishment, but the headquarters of the international espionage of the allies. none realised that the crowds of "speculators," who flocked thither in the pursuit of ever-elusive wealth, included among them dozens of men and women who day by day carried their lives in their hands in their never-ending warfare with the unscrupulous and resourceful agents of germany. none dreamed that to the busy staff finance was a mere side-line; that their real interest was not the daily fluctuations of the bourse, but the thread of hun intrigue which ran through all the crowded life of the gay city, and was nowhere stronger than in the department of finance. "now, sant," said hecq abruptly, after we had sat silent for a few minutes while i ran over in my mind the essential facts of the new and tangled case. "you have seen the photographs and the _dossier_, and you understand the position. what is your opinion?" "there can be but one," i answered leisurely. "before the war, jules cauvin, of issoire in auvergne, was a struggling corn-merchant. he has since, in some unaccountable way, blossomed out into a man of wealth, and has purchased an important estate with money which has come from some mysterious source. constant payments appear to reach him from a firm of motor-engineers somewhere in england. in his sudden prosperity he has bought a villa at mentone, where he lives during the winter with his wife and family, and he is often seen at the tables at monte carlo. among those who have stayed with him at the villa des fleurs was the russian colonel miassoyedeff, who was recently hanged as a spy of germany. there can be only one conclusion from all this." "ah! my friend. i see you have mastered the essentials," said hecq approvingly. "now cauvin and all his friends are under the strictest surveillance; the question is how we are to secure evidence to convict him of the espionage he is undoubtedly concerned in. we can arrest him, of course, at any moment; he has no chance whatever of getting away. every letter he sends or receives is opened and photographed, yet, up to the present, he has been too clever for us. if he were put on trial for espionage to-morrow, not even his friendship with miassoyedeff would prevent him from being acquitted. we have no evidence against him whatever, beyond the fact of his sudden wealth, and that, even in these times, is not enough." and hecq looked at me with an appeal in those soft, strange eyes of his. i could see that the case of cauvin presented itself to him as supremely important, and that it must be solved if we were ever to grapple successfully with the mysterious, deadly influence whose workings we could feel and trace all around us, but the real wielder of which appeared constantly to slip through our fingers. "i quite understand you," i said, sipping the little glass of cointreau he had offered me. "there is only one thing to be done. we must find that finger of the hidden hand in england." "exactly, my dear sant," exclaimed my chief, with a quick gesture of approval. "we seem to be losing ground day by day. why? at all costs the position must be retrieved. you will want madame soyez to help you. let me see; she is at present in england. i sent her across only a week ago to make some inquiries. excuse me a moment while i speak to guillet," and he left me to go to the telephone. monsieur guillet was his private secretary, who controlled his "financial office" in the boulevard des capucines. a few minutes later he returned, saying: "madame is to-day at the midland grand hotel in manchester. presuming that you wish to meet her, i have told guillet to telegraph, asking her, if possible, to meet you to-morrow night in london." "no," i said at once. "that won't do. we cannot begin to work in england yet. i must learn a lot more about this interesting person cauvin, who has so mysteriously acquired a fortune. then we will begin to probe matters across the channel. recall madame gabrielle here and we will set to work. but it will be extremely difficult. the investigation of the hidden hand in england has always met with failure, so far as the principals are concerned. we have caught one or two of the minor tools, but the master-mind has always eluded us, although the british secret service is most excellent." "ah, _mon cher_ sant, there i agree most cordially with you. the world little dreams of the astuteness and resourcefulness of our colleagues at whitehall. one day it will know--and it will be greatly surprised. very well, i will order madame gabrielle to come direct to paris." again he rose, and during his absence i once more glanced at the formidable dossier concerning the wealthy jules cauvin, who was so well known in the gay night life of paris, whose smart wife was one of the leaders in the social world, and who had recently established a hospital out at neuilly, where his wife and daughter worked unceasingly on behalf of the wounded. according to one report, the suspected man was in the habit of entertaining certain high officials of the state at his fine house close to the etoile, and he had several bosom friends in the admiralty. such was the present position of a man who only five years ago was a struggling corn-merchant in rural auvergne. i lit a cigarette and reflected. by the time hecq had returned i had hit upon the rough outlines of a plan. "first of all," i said, "you must call off the surveillance on cauvin. i must have a free hand in the affair, and the surete must not interfere in any way. if cauvin gains the slightest suspicion we shall certainly fail. secondly, i must have a good man to assist me. aubert did extremely well in the case of marguerite zell, the dancing woman who came from the hague; i will have him. i shall leave paris this evening. tell madame gabrielle to come home and wait till i return, and to hold herself in readiness with aubert." hecq nodded his assent, but did not ask me a single question. that was what i liked most about him; he never asked one how he intended to proceed. his trust, when it was given, was complete; he expected results, and did not bother about mere details. yet, when his assistance was asked at a difficult point, he was always completely at the service of his employees. he knew i had no particular affection for the surete, because in one important case they had bungled, and brought me to disaster which nearly cost me my life. so he merely shook hands and wished me good luck. twenty-four hours later i arrived at the hotel de la poste, in issoire, a dull, remote little town in auvergne, and next morning set about making inquiries regarding jules cauvin. first of all, i looked up the entry of his birth at the prefecture, which showed that he was the son of the village postman of champeix, seven miles from issoire. i found out also that his father had been imprisoned for seven years for thefts of letters. it was necessary to make many inquiries without arousing suspicion, therefore i was compelled to spend several days at my task. i made some interesting discoveries, for naturally the entire neighbourhood was familiar with cauvin's rise to wealth, and he had been put under that microscopic observation and discussion which is so marked a feature of provincial life everywhere, but especially in france. i chanced upon a retired butcher named demetz, in whose debt cauvin had been to the extent of nearly two thousand francs. demetz had been on the point of suing for the money when, to his intense surprise, cauvin called one day with a bundle of thousand-franc notes in his hand, and threw out three, saying gleefully: "the extra thousand is for interest, my dear friend. i invented an improvement in automobile engines a year ago and patented it. a big firm in england has taken up my invention, and my fortune is made." naturally enough, the retired butcher had been keenly interested in cauvin's sudden wealth, and had tried to question him about it. but the postman's son was too wily to be drawn. he declared that the invention was a secret, that it would revolutionise the motor trade, and that the english syndicate which had bought it meant to spring it upon the market as a complete surprise. i soon found out that the man cauvin was not popular. true, he flung his money about, and there were few local institutions which had not benefited by his largesse. but there is no population in the world so suspicious as the french provincial, and it was evident that the ex-postman's son had entirely failed in his prosperity to win either the affection or the confidence of those who had known him in his earlier and humbler days. demetz voiced the prevailing suspicion. "where does his money come from, monsieur?" he asked me. "from a motor invention--bah! what does jules cauvin know about motors? he had hardly ever been in one before he grew so suddenly rich. there is something mysterious about it all." but it was evident that even demetz had not the least inkling of the real truth, and, of course, i did not breathe a syllable of it to him. the matter was of extreme urgency, and i did not allow the grass to grow under my feet. i had promised doris to spend a week with her in worcestershire, but this was impossible. i knew, however, that she had long wished for a trip to mentone, so i sent her a wire, asking her to come with her mother and meet me there. a few hours after i got the reply i wished for, and the following afternoon i alighted upon the long platform at mentone. two days later i was joined at my hotel by doris and her mother. in mentone, of course, my objective was the villa des fleurs. i particularly wanted to have a good look round the interior of that interesting house. cauvin, of course, was away, and the house was shut up, but i learned that it was being looked after by an old woman, the wife of the gardener, and accordingly i hired a _fiacre_ and, with doris as my companion, drove out to the villa des fleurs. on the cote d'azur the weather was stifling. driving up the white, winding road of castellar, we found the olives and aloes dry and dusty, and the land parched and brown. the riviera is not gay in the dog-days. at last we arrived at the villa, a great, recently built house of the flamboyant, new art style, its green shutters closed, and the whole place silent and deserted in the burning sun. roses and geraniums ran riot everywhere, but the gardens were kept spick and span, as became the winter _pied-a-terre_ of a wealthy man. i posed as an englishman who wished to view the villa, with the object of becoming its tenant next winter, having heard from a friend of monsieur cauvin that he might wish to let it. doris, i assured the old gardener, a white-bearded man in a big straw hat and blue apron, was my sister. he took the bait readily enough, and handed me over to the care of his wife, by whom we were conducted over the house. the house was most luxuriously furnished, and it was evident that popular rumours, for once, had not exaggerated cauvin's wealth. everything was in splendid taste and bore the unmistakable _cachet_ of a famous paris firm of experts. cauvin, evidently, was no fool; he had committed none of the absurdities of the average _nouveau riche_, but had wisely given experienced men _carte blanche_. the result was a mingling of luxury and good taste which certainly could not have been expected from the son of a village postman. chapter five. the perfumed card. we passed from room to room, chatting freely with the old frenchwoman, who garrulously told me everything i wanted to know, and showed not the least reluctance to discuss her master and his affairs. i had previously warned doris to be on the look-out for anything of interest, and, pleased with the idea of helping me, she was keenly on the alert. i was soon to have good reason to bless the lucky inspiration which had led me to fetch her to mentone at a time when most people prefer to give it a wide berth. after visiting a number of rooms, we came at last to the front entrance, and the aged housekeeper seemed to think we were leaving. but i had not yet caught sight of cauvin's private room, and i knew that unless i saw that my journey would be fruitless. "it is a very nice house," i said to our guide, "and the gardens are beautiful. but i have much writing to do, and there does not seem to be any room which would serve well as a study." she hesitated obviously. "well," she said slowly, "there is monsieur's private room, but it is locked. if monsieur desires it, i will fetch the key." "i might as well see it," i said, as carelessly as i could. "i must have some private den of my own," i went on. the old dame shuffled off for the key, and i gave doris a special hint to keep her eyes wide open. when the old woman returned she led us directly to cauvin's private room, a good-sized apartment, furnished something after the pattern of the library of the ordinary english house. i noticed immediately that it had double doors; evidently cauvin had good reasons for making sure that there should be no eavesdropping when he was at home. leading from it was a large salon, upholstered in pale blue silk, and the old woman passed into this in order to open the sun-shutters and admit the light. in the window of the library was a big american roll-top desk, which stood open and was rather dusty. the green blotting-pad remained just as the master of the house had left it, and near it lay a pile of miscellaneous and dusty-looking papers. i was glancing round when i was startled by a faint, gasping sob, and, looking round, saw with alarm that doris had dropped into a chair, apparently faint. the old woman had rushed to her assistance. "it is nothing--only the heat," murmured doris faintly. "please get me a glass of water." the old woman hurried away, and, much concerned, i bent over doris. i had no idea that her illness was anything but real, and i was surprised when she said crisply but quietly, "now is your chance." then i realised her purpose and began a hurried examination of the desk, keeping my ears open for any sound of the old woman's return. but i could find nothing. evidently cauvin left little to chance. the drawers of the desk were not even locked, and i soon concluded that i had drawn a blank, and that the key to the mystery i was bent on solving must be sought elsewhere. of course i was not surprised. it was not in the least likely that cauvin would leave incriminating documents in his winter quarters, but in the work upon which i was engaged it would never do to miss the opportunity that might be afforded by the momentary carelessness which is the ever-besetting peril of even the cleverest of rogues. as events proved, we were to learn once again the truth of the old adage that no man can be wise at all times. when the old lady returned with water doris soon "recovered," and assured the volubly sympathetic dame that she was quite herself again. as we stood for a moment saying farewell, her quick eye caught something which i had overlooked. "why," she said, "here is an invitation to a wedding in england!" and she picked up from a small side table, where it lay in a china bowl, a card printed in silver ink--an invitation, as she said, to a wedding, and printed in english. "has monsieur cauvin many english friends?" i asked the old frenchwoman, hoping that something useful might slip out. "_non, monsieur_," she replied. "i do not think so; i have never seen english letters come, and you are the first englishman who has ever been here." i glanced at the card with an interest i took care to conceal. it had been issued six months before by the brother of the bride, a certain agnes wheatley, and invited "monsieur et madame cauvin" to be present at her marriage to captain james easterbrook, of the royal fusiliers, at st mary's church, chester. the address given for the reply was " , whitefriars, chester"--an address which i took early opportunity of scribbling upon my shirt-cuff. suddenly doris, who had taken the card from my hand, raised it to her nostrils and sniffed at it. "why," she said, "it is scented. i never saw an english wedding card scented before." and she sniffed again and handed the card to me. i raised it to my nostrils and decided that the odour was either that of lemon-scented verbena or the old-fashioned stag-leaved geranium. the scent was fast disappearing, and it was evident, from the age of the card, that it must have been very pungent when fresh. small things mean much in our profession, and it struck me at once that doris's discovery might be decidedly important. here we had a perfectly innocent-looking invitation to a wedding in england, printed in quite the ordinary english style, and, judging from the type employed, evidently the work of an english printer. yet the card, found by chance in the house of a foreign suspect, showed a variation from english social customs which doris, womanlike, had instantly detected. the fact of the card being scented, had i been alone, would certainly not have struck me as being of any peculiar significance; very few men, i am certain, would have given it a second thought. yet the trivial circumstance was to be the means of leading us finally towards our goal. "are you sure they never perfume wedding cards in england?" i asked doris. "absolutely," she replied. "i have never heard of such a thing. the card is of excellent quality, and, judging from the fact that the bridegroom is a military man, the parties must be of fairly good social circles, in which any departure from the accepted custom in such things would be regarded as `bad form.'" "well," i thought, "it may be important." at the same time i realised that the card might have lain in contact with a scented handkerchief, and thus absorbed part of the odour. as against this was the fact that the scent was not a common one. i decided in my own mind that the matter might be worth looking into, and, when the old custodian's back was turned, took the liberty of slipping the card into my pocket. soon after, having learnt all i could about cauvin and his abode, we left the villa des fleurs, and, giving the old woman a handsome tip, returned to mentone. the same evening i left for marseilles, doris and her mother remaining behind for a day or two before returning to england. somehow i could not dismiss the subject of the perfume from my mind; why, i cannot exactly tell, for i could not see precisely the bearing of the card on the problem i had to solve. was the perfume verbena or scented geranium, and had the card any special significance? next day, in marseilles, i entered the shop of one of the leading perfumers in the cannebiere, and asked the young lady assistant whether she could identify the perfume for me. "certainly, monsieur," she said without hesitation; "that is geranium." "are you quite sure," i asked, "that it is not verbena?" "monsieur shall decide for himself," was the ready reply, and the girl at once fetched samples of both perfumes. a single test was enough to show that she was correct. and then, recognising the purpose of the card, though she could not speak english, she practically duplicated doris's remark. "is it not unusual, monsieur, to scent a wedding card?" that set me thinking furiously. it was quite possible that doris might have made a mistake about a point of social etiquette. but here was a young frenchwoman corroborating her in quite a dramatic fashion. "it is unusual; i suppose they are peculiar people," i replied as i left. it is one of the penalties of contra-espionage work that one becomes almost morbidly interested in the seemingly trivial. one of the first lessons to be learnt is that nothing is so small that it can be safely neglected. there were, it was obvious, many ways by which the card might have become accidentally impregnated with the perfume. but my intuitive suspicions grew ever stronger, and at last i found myself convinced that there was "something in it." in one particular, at any rate, the card was of first-rate importance. try as we would, we had failed entirely to connect cauvin with anyone in england. we were morally certain that he must be receiving messages and money in some subterranean way, but it was certainly not through the post, and up to the present we had failed to find, among his big list of acquaintances and friends, anyone whom we could reasonably suspect of being in touch with the hidden hand across the straits of dover. but there were many possible channels of communication through neutral countries, and obviously we could not stop them all. now, with the aid of the wedding card, it seemed possible, always assuming the card to be genuine, that i might be able to locate one person at least in england who was upon extremely friendly terms with our wealthy suspect. that chance, at any rate, whether the perfume meant anything or not, i was resolved not to miss. treachery was rife everywhere. in russia, in italy, in roumania, in greece, and in other countries, men of apparently impeccable reputation were one after another being unmasked in their true characters of agents of the enemy, and were paying the penalty of their perfidy. in france several first-class scandals of this kind had recently absorbed the attention of the public. that england had hitherto been comparatively free from any of these _causes celebres_ was due, as i well knew, not to the absence of culprits, but to the lazy british good nature, which, coupled with the apathy of men in high places who had always laughed to scorn the very idea of the german spy in england, refused to look unpleasant facts in the face unless they became unduly obtrusive. and the picked men of the hun spy bureau could be trusted not to make themselves conspicuous! the great hun octopus does not advertise its presence. it puts its faith in the powerful god mammon, always sure of finding willing victims, and his chief disciple, blackmail. some day or other i may be able to tell the story in more detail; it will certainly be of absorbing interest. at present, however, it must give way to the exigencies of the war situation. the germans would be only too glad to learn just how much we know; the british public would probably explode into a blaze of indignation if they once fully realised the supine attitude of their rulers to the ever-present and ever-growing menace of the german spy in their midst. chapter six. in the "personal" column. i had a good deal to do before i could leave for england. from marseilles i left for st etienne and chartres, in both of which towns jules cauvin had been known in pre-war days. but little additional information which was of value could i pick up, though i was specially struck by the fact that all who knew him laughed at the bare idea of his having blossomed out into a motor expert. they all seemed equally convinced on this point. one man even ventured the suggestion that, if cauvin was indeed making huge sums of money from a motor invention, he must have stolen the idea from someone else. "and, believe me, monsieur," ejaculated the voluble frenchman, "he would not be above doing so. jules cauvin an inventor! phew! he is too lazy; he never did any work if he could help it." however, as i was tolerably sure in my own mind that cauvin was being handsomely paid for services of quite another kind, this did not help me much. at length, after a journey of a week, during which time i spent only one night in bed, i found myself late one afternoon back in paris, chatting with my colleagues, madame gabrielle soyez and henri aubert, in the former's cosy little flat _au troisieme_, in the boulevard pereire. to both i gave certain very definite instructions. to the elegant little frenchwoman i added: "you will proceed to the grosvenor hotel in london, and from there will keep the surveillance i have indicated. remain there until you hear from me. report progress frequently--at least every other day--in the personal column of _the times_." i could scarcely refrain from smiling as i turned from the vivacious frenchwoman--a parisian in every detail of her _chic_ appearance--to henri aubert, who was to be our colleague in the undertaking we had in hand. aubert was a sad-faced, rather melancholy looking middle-aged man, with a face from which every shred of intelligence seemed to have vanished. he looked, indeed, exactly like one of those middle-class nonentities, colourless and featureless, who, by the mysterious workings of the mind of the great god democracy, manage to get themselves elected as municipal councillors, or by superhuman endeavour rise to the position of advocate--and never do any good. but behind his unpromising exterior, which, in fact, was one of his chief assets, since it practically freed him from any possibility of suspicion, was a keen intelligence, trained in every detail of our craft, a patience that knew no wearying on the trail, and a judgment which closed like a steel trap on the essential factor in a complicated situation, and, once having secured a hold, never let go. i knew him well and esteemed him highly, and he possessed the entire trust of the astute armand hecq, a trust difficult to win, but, once won, fully and freely given. to aubert i explained the situation as fully as i could, and, though i knew him to be a model of circumspection, i ventured on a hint of the extreme care and discretion necessary in the delicate affair if we were to succeed in tracing the source of cauvin's mysterious rise to sudden wealth. he listened to me with a ghost of a smile on his thin lips, but he was evidently piqued. "perhaps, monsieur sant, someone has been telling you i am a confirmed babbler?" he said dryly; and i laughed; the idea of aubert "babbling" had its humorous aspect. "i think we understand each other, monsieur aubert," i said. "i don't mean to cast any reflections on your discretion. but you know the people we have to deal with." "quite well, monsieur," replied aubert, with a real smile this time. "we have a difficult job before us. they have a dangerous gang over in england just now. pierre gartin was murdered there only last week--shot in a street row unquestionably got up for the occasion. of course the assassin escaped in the crowd. i think we had better take our revolvers." he spoke as coolly as though his revolver were his umbrella. i was startled. pierre gartin was one of the most capable men we had, and i knew he had been engaged on a piece of work very similar to that which we had in hand. in my absence i had not heard of his death. "no, i had not heard," i replied. "but i agree with you that our revolvers might be useful." aubert's news told me that our hun antagonists must have some very big plan in hand. even the most desperate of spies draws the line at murder, unless he finds himself in an impasse with no other way out. this is not, of course, from any special reluctance to taking the life of an enemy, but simply as a matter of self-preservation. for we are so peculiarly constituted that we tolerate calmly the work of pestiferous agents whose activities are a greater peril to the community than a dozen murders would be, while the killing of a single man brings a hornets' nest about the murderer's ears. i knew therefore, that since the huns had gone so far as to "remove" gartin, they must be engaged in work of supreme importance, and must have been quite aware that he was hot on their trail. truly we had an interesting prospect before us. but we were all tolerably well used to danger, and i do not think it affected any of us. "only last night," said aubert, "cauvin entertained bonnier, of the admiralty, and no doubt he learned something from him. i have found out that he has been lending bonnier a good deal of money. bonnier has recently got mixed up with a fast set, and he has been spending a great deal more money than his income warrants. when people of that kind begin to consort with rogues of cauvin's stamp it usually means only one thing." "no doubt that is true enough," i replied; "but for the present we must take even the risk of leaving bonnier alone. i want absolute evidence that cauvin's money comes from germany, even though he actually gets it from a secret source in england. it is not enough for me to prove either that bonnier is selling secrets or that cauvin is buying them. i want to prove that cauvin's money is german, and i am going to do it. bonnier can wait; if we get cauvin we are tolerably sure to obtain sufficient evidence to lay bonnier by the heels at any time. in fact, we can remove him quietly as soon as cauvin is out of the way. i shall leave for england to-morrow." this i did, and twenty-four hours later i was in london. i decided first to investigate cauvin's supposed motor invention, and made my way to the office of a well-known patent agent in chancery lane. he had done some business before for me and greeted me warmly. i knew him so thoroughly that i did not hesitate to tell him exactly what i was after. "but, my dear sant," he said, "if this supposed invention is being kept as a secret to stagger the motoring world, it is not likely to have been patented yet by either cauvin or anyone else. depend upon it, if there is anything in it, it is being manufactured secretly, and will not be patented until it is absolutely ready for the market. to patent it now would simply be setting every motor expert in the country at work on similar lines. you know the patent lists are watched with the keenest scrutiny. my clerk is looking into the matter, and we shall soon know whether cauvin has patented anything." this was a surprise for me. i could not, of course, however much i might suspect him, absolutely rule out of my calculations the possibility that even cauvin might have hit upon some lucky idea, as so many inventors have done, without knowing much of the technicalities of the subject. i did not forget that the safety-pin was the invention of a lazy workman. and i knew that if i took any active steps against cauvin and made a mistake--if by some miraculous chance his sudden wealth was honestly acquired--the consequences would be serious. "well," i said, when we had been assured that no patent of any kind had been taken out by cauvin, "what am i to do? i can't go to every big motor engineer in england and ask him if he is manufacturing a secret device invented by jules cauvin." my friend thought for a few moments. "i think you had better see l--," he said at last. "if there is anything big in hand some kind of whisper of it is sure to have got about, and he would be the first to hear. i will telephone him at once; we shall catch him in his office on the viaduct." a few minutes later we were in holborn in l--'s office; he was one of the magnates of the motoring world. i explained the position. "you can make your mind easy on that point," he said emphatically. "there is nothing going in the trade to-day big enough to produce the amount of money your man is evidently receiving. if there were, i must have heard of it; it could not be kept secret. you remember the marx carburettor? well, we knew for six months that it was coming, though every effort was made to keep it secret. what we did not know was the exact secret; but you know how it took the market by storm." this, even though it were only negative evidence, seemed to establish conclusively the fact that cauvin's money, whatever might be its source, was not derived from the motor trade. i made up my mind that this much at least was certain. next day i travelled down to old-world chester, where i very speedily discovered that there was in whitefriars no house numbered , and no trace of any person named wheatley, while the aged vicar of st mary's knew nothing of the marriage of "captain james easterbrook." everything was fictitious--everything, that is, except the silver-printed wedding card and the clinging perfume of stag-leaved geranium. what did the bogus card indicate? why had jules cauvin's unknown correspondent gone to the trouble of having it printed? and why, in defiance of all social custom, had it been scented with such a perfume as that of the stag-leaved geranium? i felt tolerably sure that here lay the key of the mystery, and that when i laid my hand on the sender of that mysterious card i should be very near indeed to the knowledge of the real source of the strange sequence of events which had raised the good-for-nothing son of an obscure french postman to a dazzling position in the world of society. such was the problem i had to solve. and the key to it was just one bogus wedding card impregnated with the slowly dying odour of geranium. i cursed my luck as i reflected on the magnitude of the issues at stake and the paucity of the tools with which i had to work. for if "captain james easterbrook" was unknown in chester, the home of his supposed bride, what was my chance of penetrating his disguise? yet, somehow or other, we must succeed. that cauvin was receiving money from england i was absolutely convinced, and i was determined to take this chance--the best we had had--of locating the real men behind the hidden hand in england. next day i left chester by a very early train for london. when we reached rugby i bought a copy of _the times_, and the first thing that caught my eye was a cryptically worded message at the head of the personal column. it conveyed to me the startling news that madame gabrielle had been recognised by some alien agent of whom she was highly suspicious, had left the grosvenor hotel in her alarm, and had returned to paris! chapter seven. the elusive van rosen. evidently something very serious had happened. my first impulse was to hasten to the grosvenor hotel, engage a room there, and try to discover something of the cause which had brought about madame gabrielle's sudden flight. perhaps my anxiety for her safety operated more powerfully than i ought to have allowed. in our business personalities are nothing; it is the end that counts. a moment's reflection showed me that in taking this course i should simply be playing into the enemy's hands. i was too well known. i hoped that my presence in england was not suspected by the german agents, and if i ventured to stay at the grosvenor they would certainly very soon have me under close observation. by using the official telephone between london and paris i managed to get into communication with madame gabrielle at her flat in the boulevard pereire, and soon learnt the reason for her flight. van rosen had discovered her, and was watching her closely. here, indeed, was an antagonist worthy of my steel! i had long known-- and so far as his abilities went, had respected--van rosen as one of the cleverest agents of the koniggratzer-strasse. he was able to pose as an englishman--a rare accomplishment in a german--for he had been educated at haileybury, and had been in england off and on since his youth. he was now living in a north-western suburb, where he posed as mr george huggon-rose, a solicitor who had retired from practice. only british apathy made this possible. a moment's investigation would have shown that the man could not have been what he pretended, for no such retired solicitor as mr george huggon-rose was known to the law society. as a matter of fact, it was through this very slip on his part that i had "spotted" van rosen. we had suddenly lost sight of him a year or two before, and try as we would--for we knew that wherever he might be he would be dangerous--we could not locate him. the accident which led to his discovery was curious. i had been spending a few days in north london, and one morning stopped at the railway bookstall to buy a paper. as i approached the stall a tall, gentlemanly looking man, who had been chatting with the clerk, turned away and entered the train. something about him struck me as strangely familiar. "who is that gentleman?" i asked the man at the stall. "oh," he replied, "that's mr huggon-rose. he used to be a solicitor in the city, but he retired and has been living here for a year or two." but i was not quite satisfied; some odd memory, in which i felt sure mr huggon-rose was concerned, haunted me all the way to town, and i could not shake it off. i had only seen van rosen once, though i had had a good deal of experience, and it was not surprising that i failed to recognise him. when i got up to town i consulted the _law list_, but could find no trace of mr huggon-rose. then i became more suspicious, and before many days were over i had succeeded in definitely identifying mr huggon-rose with one of the kaiser's cleverest spies. thus the mystery of van rosen's disappearance was solved by his own slip. if, when i looked up the _law list_, i had found mr huggon-rose's name and address duly set out, i should probably have thought i had been deceived by some chance resemblance and wasted no more time on the matter. how true it is that trifles make the sum of life! the position now was plainly serious: van rosen's presence in london boded no good. the man was as unscrupulous as he was clever. the british contra-espionage department knew him well and had been greatly chagrined at losing sight of him. afterwards, in consequence of my report to hecq, he had been kept under close observation; but we had never been able to secure sufficient proof to justify his arrest, strong though our suspicions were. he had evidently been walking very warily since the outbreak of war. unfortunately he had adopted that easiest of all cloaks of the german spy, and had become a naturalised englishman just before war broke out. but the adage "once a german always a german" applied with special force to van rosen. after speaking with madame gabrielle i had a long chat with hecq over the private wire, and together we mapped out a pretty comprehensive plan of campaign, in which both aubert and madame gabrielle had very definite parts to play. then the mysterious scented wedding card claimed my full attention, for i was determined to sift its secret to the bottom. first, i paid a visit to somerset house, where i very thoroughly searched the records of recent marriages. these showed me that no marriage had taken place between persons named wheatley and easterbrook. a certain agnes wheatley had been born in june, , at mina road, old kent road, in the parish of st george the martyr, southwark, and there were records of two james easterbrooks. one was james stanley easterbrook, born in lord street, southport, in ; the other, james henry charlton easterbrook, had first seen the light of day in the village of forteviot, perthshire, in . the _army list_, of course, failed to show any captain james easterbrook, of the royal fusiliers. all this did not carry me much farther. the father of the southport easterbrook was apparently a prosperous blackburn tradesman; but that of the man born in scotland was vaguely set down as of "no occupation," a curious entry for a scottish village, where practically everybody would be likely to live by the labour of his hands, and where one would hardly expect to find persons of leisured independence. the fact worried me. but an inquiry at forteviot showed that there had been no easterbrooks in the village for many years, and no one seemed to recollect anything about them. in order to conceal myself from the astute van rosen, i had taken rooms in a cheap boarding-house, full of old ladies, in guilford street, bloomsbury, and, equipped with a silver discharge badge and a set of "faked" army papers, posed as an invalided soldier recovering his health before taking up work. i was thus able to disarm the inquisitive prying of my fellow-boarders, and i am afraid i gave them some highly remarkable "information" about the war and my share in it! if one is engaged in spying or contra-espionage work one must be ever ready to combat silly suspicions that give rise to endless gossip and to evade unfriendly and malicious comment. the enigma of the wedding card worried me incessantly. that the prosperous jules cauvin was one of the puppets of potsdam, and also that he had betrayed france, i felt morally convinced. hecq, indeed, held documentary evidence of cauvin's friendship with the austrian millionaire spy, herr jellinck. i knew, almost with certainty, that the perfumed wedding card was intended to convey a message of some kind, since in every particular it was clearly shown to be a bogus document. yet without more direct evidence cauvin, had we ventured to arrest him, must have slipped out of the clutches of the law. for, after all, mere friendship or acquaintance with a spy, however suspicious, does not prove the guilt of espionage. inquiries made by the british special branch soon showed that none of the easterbrooks in the british army could by any possibility be connected with the "captain easterbrook" of the wedding card. within a week i established the fact that agnes wheatley had died before she reached the age of ten years. therefore, she could not have been the mysterious bride to whose "wedding" jules cauvin and his wife had been invited. i was thus thrown back on the two easterbrooks, and for the next few days, if i may use the term, i breakfasted, lunched, and dined on easterbrooks! and helping in my quest were some of the smartest men of the british special branch. six weeks went by--weeks of feverish activity and incessant patient investigation. that mysterious wedding card, with its pungent odour of stag-leaved geranium, hypnotised me, and i could think of nothing else. and everything began to seem so hopeless that even the scotland yard men, most unrelenting and unwearying searchers-out of hidden mysteries, began to get depressed and to fancy they were hopelessly beaten. van rosen, of course, was under constant surveillance. whether he suspected it or not i do not know, but for the time being he seemed to have entirely abandoned his usual business. he went about quite openly, and i often wondered whether he was tacitly defying us. probably his work was so far advanced that he could afford to wait, and hoped to disarm suspicion by the very openness of everything he did. had there been any real necessity we could, of course, have arrested him on some charge or another, but we still hoped that by giving him plenty of latitude we should sooner or later stumble on some valuable information. chapter eight. "one of the naturalised." the weeks slipped by. we seemed no nearer gaining our object, and i found myself wondering at times whether, indeed, i was not engaged on a wild-goose chase. poring over everything that was known of jules cauvin, i sometimes found myself ridiculing my own suspicions. still, that mysterious card forced itself on my attention. cauvin's friendship with jellinck, his known association with miassoyedeff, shot as a spy in russia, his sudden and inexplicable wealth, all convinced me in the long run that there was a deep secret to be fathomed. i had the chain of evidence nearly complete, but one link was missing--the source of cauvin's wealth and the identity of the mysterious individual from whom he drew unstinted funds. three weeks more passed. the special branch at scotland yard was becoming disheartened. i myself was losing hope, and hecq was obviously growing restive. then the tide turned. one of the special branch, apparently by the merest accident, discovered the printer of the bogus card. this was a discovery indeed! i hastened to interview the printer--the proprietor of a small jobbing business named james in the uxbridge road. "the cards," he told me, "were ordered by mr easterbrook for the wedding of his son, the captain easterbrook referred to. mr easterbrook lives in lancaster gate," and, referring to his order book, he gave me the address, for which i thanked him. "did you perfume the cards before you printed them?" i asked him carelessly. i had kept the most important question till the last. "perfume them!" he snorted, glaring at me through his spectacles. "why, of course not--we don't scent invitation cards to weddings!" i knew that well, but i was glad to get the fact verified. and now for mr easterbrook and the captain! i was in high spirits, for i felt that at length i was getting near the heart of the mystery. going direct to lancaster gate, i soon found the easterbrooks' house, a large, handsome building overlooking hyde park. a few local inquiries soon told me all i wanted to know, and shortly after i was conveying my news to hecq over the paris telephone. for once the phlegmatic little man was shaken out of his habitual reserve, and his voice, when he had heard my news, fairly trembled with excitement. at last we were at close grips with our mysterious foe. next day, madame gabrielle, whom i sent for again, and aubert were installed in rooms in an obscure house in bayswater. i spent the evening with them, and together we evolved a plan of operations which, i confess, required considerable "bounce"--i do not like the expression "daring" when it has to be applied to one's self. by this time i had cut myself adrift from our excellent colleagues of the special branch, fearing lest van rosen and his friends might get on my track. so far, apparently, he had not located me, for, though i kept the sharpest possible look out, assisted by a clever detective who habitually assumed different disguises for the purpose, i could find no evidence whatever that i was being "shadowed." madame gabrielle, aubert, and myself were also working apart, though i was directing the general plan of operations. following up the trail i had struck in the uxbridge road, i soon secured some astounding facts regarding mr essendine easterbrook, of lancaster gate. he was actually a native of frankfort, who, after a brief but amazingly successful career in the city as a promoter of rubber companies, had amassed a big fortune and retired from the game of finance. he had become naturalised in , and, profiting by the briton's amazing indulgence to aliens of every kind, had changed his name from essendine wilhelm estbruck to essendine william easterbrook. very few people, i found out, had any idea of his real origin and of his german parentage and nationality. now mr "easterbrook" had no son. he had, however, an english wife, and his wealth had won for them a position in london society. they had frequently, before the war, entertained at their handsome house the wily director of propaganda, von kuhlmann, who was then living in london, and also a certain max garlick. but, try as i would, i completely failed to establish any sort of connection between the easterbrooks and mr huggon-rose. the name of garlick, however, told me a lot. garlick had been the german secret police councillor in france, for the departments of the nord, the pas de calais, the somme, and the ardennes. he was an ex-naval lieutenant, and two years before the war broke out was appointed to the arduous, but lucrative, office of polizeirath for london, establishing his office nearly opposite the army and navy stores in victoria street, westminster. this _mouchard_, in order to disguise his true occupation, was in the habit of putting in a few hours' work daily at a desk in the london offices of the hamburg-amerika line in cockspur street. that essendine easterbrook, the "father" of the non-existent "captain," had been the friend of max garlick was quite sufficient to show his connection with the enemy, for garlick had been the head of the "actives" in england. we then set to work to obtain more inside evidence. aubert, on my instructions, watched carefully, and soon made an opportunity of getting into the confidence of mrs easterbrook's english maid, a young woman named dean. he found out without much trouble that she was not greatly attached to her mistress, who, in spite of her gushing manners in society, was harsh and domineering towards those in her employ, and was totally incapable of winning either respect or affection. dean had been engaged from a local registry office in the neighbourhood, a fact which materially facilitated our plans. i had a long interview with the young woman. she had a sweetheart serving in the army, who had seen a good deal of german methods and had told the girl enough of the sufferings of the conquered french and belgian populations to fill her with an intense hatred of germans and everything german. directly i informed her that she had been working for a naturalised german her indignation knew no bounds, and she willingly gave me a lot of valuable information. she declared, moreover, that she would not remain in the place another day. this, too, was exactly what was wanted. i impressed upon her the necessity of keeping absolutely silent on the subject of her employers' real character, and set about the task of getting her place filled with a nominee of my own. this, of course, could be no other than the resourceful madame gabrielle, who, laying aside, as she often did, her wedding ring, registered her name at the registry office as a french maid. a handsome _douceur_ to the excellent registry keeper and some highly satisfactory references, carefully prepared for the occasion, accomplished what we wanted, and in the course of a week i had the satisfaction of knowing that the easterbrook household was under the close surveillance of one of my smartest assistants, who posed as mademoiselle darbour, and was quite certain to miss no opportunity that might present itself to her. we soon obtained further information about mr easterbrook. he was evidently a wealthy man in reality, as well as appearance, owning, in addition to the lancaster gate house, a big estate in derbyshire, a shooting-box in the highlands, and a villa at cabbe roquebrune, above cap martin, not far from cauvin's villa des fleurs at mentone. moreover, he dabbled in yachting after a fashion, more, i suspected, for purposes of social advertisement than from any love of a sport which makes but a slight appeal to germans. we were, of course, living on the edge of a powder magazine, and the position of madame gabrielle, alone in the very camp of the enemy, was especially perilous. at any moment one or all of us might be recognised by the alert agents of van rosen, and i was beginning to know enough of the true position of mr easterbrook to realise that the desperate men with whom we had to deal would stick at nothing to rid themselves of danger if once they divined our identity and purpose. for madame gabrielle i was especially anxious, and more than once i debated seriously whether i was justified in allowing a woman to run so grave a risk. for aubert and myself, of course, such a question naturally did not arise; risk was a part of our profession, and we accepted it just as we accepted a wet day. however, we were playing for a great stake, and i finally decided to play the game out to a finish. a month passed. the reports i received from madame gabrielle, working inside the house, and from the painstaking aubert, who let nothing outside escape him, were full of interest. mr easterbrook, formerly herr essendine estbruck, native of frankfort, remained entirely unsuspicious that he was under the eye of one of the keenest secret agents in europe. it was important that he should remain in ignorance, and i prepared a little plan which i felt sure would be so completely reassuring to him that it would throw him completely off his guard, and yet put him in such a position that he would find it almost impossible to resist the temptation, carefully arranged by us, to betray the country of his adoption. it so happened that an important post had become vacant in a certain government department dealing with a large number of confidential plans. i found out from madame gabrielle that, as a matter of fact, easterbrook had for a long time been working strenuously to secure a government appointment--honorary, of course, since money was no object to him, except as a means to an end. i have no doubt whatever that his motives were twofold. the first was, by securing official recognition, to remove any suspicion that might cling to him in consequence of his enemy origin; the second, i have just as little doubt, was to secure better opportunities of playing the spy. i made up my mind to oblige him in both particulars, but to arrange the _denouement_ myself. i went to the minister concerned, and revealed my plan. when i had fully explained to him what we knew and how much we suspected he realised the gravity of the situation, and, though my request was entirely irregular, he consented to what i asked. a week later a paragraph in the london papers announced that mr essendine easterbrook had been appointed a controller in a certain department of the admiralty. there were a few cavillings in some quarters, on account of easterbrook's origin, but to the general public the position did not seem to be one of great importance, and little notice was taken of the appointment. as a matter of fact the position was a bogus one, created for the occasion, and everything connected with it had been arranged by the astute special branch with the sole design of entrapping mr essendine easterbrook and the intermediary, whoever it might be, between the german agents in england and jules cauvin. for the wedding card had proved beyond doubt that easterbrook and cauvin were in close communication. chapter nine. the secret of the perfume. mr easterbrook soon found himself comfortably ensconced in a large room, and surrounded by a staff, every single member of which, though he little suspected it, was in the direct employ of the special branch. few suspects have ever been subjected to such microscopic scrutiny. he literally could not make a single movement unobserved. he was constantly shadowed in and out of his office by agents who were relieved every few hours; inside his house madame gabrielle was incessantly on the watch. and in the meantime we prepared for him the trap which proved his undoing. one day mr easterbrook found awaiting his attention a number of copies of an "urgent" and "strictly confidential" memorandum which gave in elaborate detail the plan of a naval operation which for sheer dare-devilry was enough to take one's breath away. needless to say, it was "spoof" from beginning to end. but it was spoof so thoroughly plausible in its conception, and so artistically worked out in its wealth of detail, that it might well have deceived someone far better versed than herr estbruck in naval matters. i had the privilege of going over it with the distinguished naval officers who drew it up, and i can hear to-day the roars of laughter with which it was received by the company of experts gathered to listen to the elaborate joke. of course the men who really knew detected the imposture at once; to the novice the plan looked like the details of a gigantic attack on one of germany's strongest naval bases. now we calculated deliberately that easterbrook, getting hold of the bogus plan, would be unable to resist the temptation to communicate it to germany. to him, we knew, it must appear of stupendous importance. it was too elaborate for him to attempt to memorise the details, and far too long to give him a chance of copying it unobserved. moreover, we decided to convince him, if possible, that he could purloin a copy without risk. now with confidential documents of importance, every single copy must be accounted for. the printing is done under the closest supervision; the exact number of sheets of paper required is issued; every official who receives a copy signs for it and gets a receipt when he parts with it. mr easterbrook had been well drilled in the routine. we had made him especially careful by inducing him on one occasion carelessly to sign for four copies of a document when he only received three, and the trouble we raised about the "missing" copy must have made him determined to count his copies in future. we relied on that to catch him and his associates. early one morning a messenger laid upon mr easterbrook's desk _four_ copies of the naval plans. "please sign for three copies of number a.b., mr easterbrook," said the lad, laying the book before him. a keen-eyed watcher saw mr easterbrook glance at the heading of the document which lay before him. clever though he was, he was unable to repress a start of astonishment as the amazing title, carefully designed for the occasion, caught his eye. a moment later he had recovered himself, counted his copies of the paper, and, glancing at the book, signed for _three_. the bait was swallowed! i must now hark back to madame gabrielle to make clear the chain of events which followed. the sprightly frenchwoman soon found out that beneath an unprepossessing exterior her employer concealed an extremely amorous disposition. exerting the full power of her fascinating personality, she soon began to exercise a considerable influence over the financier, and was able at length to solve the problem of the mysterious perfume. a few hours after the secret "plans" had been laid before him, easterbrook made a clandestine arrangement to dine with madame gabrielle at a restaurant in soho the next evening. "i have to go out of town to-night," he said. "i don't want to write, but if you get by to-morrow's post a plain sheet of paper scented with geranium i shall be there. if it is scented with violet you will know i have been detained and cannot come." so the secret was out at last! the wedding card had been a signal to cauvin that all was well. had it been scented with violet it would have indicated danger. as will be seen, we had little difficulty in guessing the purpose of easterbrook's absence from his house that night! we calculated that, finding he had been debited with three copies of the "plans," whereas he actually received four, easterbrook would calmly pocket one of them and return to the proper department the three for which he had signed. events proved that we were right. in the afternoon, at the usual time, he left the office. three minutes later we ascertained that the fourth copy of the "plans" was not in his desk. he had taken it with him, and it was easy to guess his purpose. from that moment his doom was sealed. we could have arrested him at once, of course, but we wanted to know by what means those plans were to be dispatched to germany. if we could only find that out one finger of the hidden hand would assuredly be lopped off for good. on leaving the office easterbrook made for a public telephone office, where, as it happened, three boxes stood side by side. as he entered the one, an agent of the special branch entered the one farthest from him. the boxes were of the threepence-in-the-slot pattern, and the trifling delay caused by dropping in the three pennies gave the detective his opportunity. ringing up the operator at the exchange, he demanded, in the name of the police, that easterbrook's conversation should be "tapped." the operator promptly "plugged" him on to the line easterbrook was using, so that he was able to listen, quite unknown to easterbrook, to the conversation which followed. "is that north?" easterbrook began. "i want to speak to mr huggon-rose," he went on. "that you, rose? this is easterbrook. will you come down to piccadilly and have some dinner with me? i am just arranging a yachting trip, and perhaps you would like to make one of the party. all right. be at scott's at seven o'clock. good-bye." and he rang off. seven o'clock found easterbrook and huggon-rose dining comfortably at scott's. four men of the special branch, immaculately attired and apparently mere men-about-town, were seated at different tables near them. easterbrook and his guest talked yachting ostentatiously, and many maps and papers were handed backward and forward. _one_ of these, the lynx-eyed watchers noted, passed from easterbrook to huggon-rose _and was not returned_. it was the confidential paper! another link in our chain had been forged! at half-past ten the two conspirators rose to leave. at the door of the restaurant they brushed past a man in seafaring dress, quite obviously a dutch sailor, and, swiftly though it was done, one of our watchers saw a folded paper slip from huggon-rose's hand into that of the dutchman. he made off at once, closely shadowed by two of our men, while easterbrook and huggon-rose walked away together, evidently looking for a taxicab, none too numerous at that hour. just as a cab drew up to the kerb i arrived on the scene. i had been kept closely informed of what was going on and had been waiting in a neighbouring restaurant in order to be present at the arrest of the two plotters. incautiously i approached too near, and in the light of a street-lamp van rosen caught sight of me. he recognised me instantly. with a snarl of rage he turned on me, and his hand shot to his hip-pocket. then he recovered his self-possession and entered the taxi with easterbrook. no doubt he reflected that a shot at me would not help him, and, it should be noted, neither man had any incriminating document on him. the "plans" were in possession of the dutch sailor, and until they were secured we had to hold our hands. but one quarry was safe now. the taxi soon deposited the two men at easterbrook's house, which was immediately closely surrounded. half an hour later madame gabrielle, hatless and showing every sign of a struggle, slipped from a side door. breathlessly she explained that van rosen, catching sight of her as he was going to his room on the first floor, had recognised her at once and had attacked her furiously. why he did not shoot her i never could understand. physically madame gabrielle was a match for him; she was a superb gymnast and in hard training, whereas van rosen had been leading a dissipated life and was in thoroughly poor condition. a brief struggle had ended in madame gabrielle throwing him heavily by a simple wrestling trick, and, knowing that she must get away at all cost, she had rushed down the back stairway and got into the street. a moment or two later a servant left the house and posted some letters in the pillar-box a few yards away. the letters were recovered later, and one of them, a postcard, was found to be addressed to jules cauvin. it was in a feminine handwriting, and bore neither the date nor the address of the writer. it read: "my dear jules,--henri will return home to-morrow. he has immensely enjoyed his visit, and his health has greatly improved. "yours, "marie." innocent enough, but--_the card was perfumed with violets_! clearly enough its purpose was to let cauvin know that danger was in the air. we were expecting every moment the news that the dutch sailor had been arrested with the incriminating documents in his possession. that would have been the signal for the arrest of easterbrook and van rosen. but the arrest was not to be made. far away to the east we heard the low boom of a gun. another and another followed; then came the crash of high explosives, and we realised that an air raid was in progress. nearer and nearer came the sounds of guns and bombs. suddenly i picked up the drone of an aerial motor directly overhead, and a few seconds later came an appalling crash that seemed to shake the very earth. i saw a red blaze flash out over easterbrook's house, and after that everything was a blank. i came to my senses to find myself in charing cross hospital. and when i feebly opened my eyes the first object to catch my sight was armand hecq, seated at my bedside placidly reading a book. hearing my gasp of astonishment, he turned to me. "ah, _mon cher_ gerald, so you are awake at last," he said cheerily. "how are you feeling?" "very shaky," i whispered. "what has happened? ah, yes, i remember now," i said, as a flood of recollections swept over me. "is it all right? have you got van rosen and easterbrook?" "everything is quite satisfactory, my dear gerald," replied hecq. "i will tell you all about it when you are stronger." but, weak though i was, i could not bear the suspense. "tell me at once. monsieur hecq, i beg of you, or i shall never rest." and hecq, choosing the lesser of two evils, decided to unburden himself. "van rosen and easterbrook are both dead," he said. "the bomb which rendered you unconscious struck easterbrook's house and killed them both. mrs easterbrook is terribly injured, but is alive, and will probably recover. madame gabrielle is quite safe, and aubert, who was watching near you, was sheltered from the explosion by a projecting wall and was only badly shaken. he telephoned me at once, and i fortunately caught a train which was just leaving, and here i am. you have been unconscious for a day and a half." "what about the dutch sailor?" i managed to gasp out in my astonishment. "oh," replied hecq, "we got him all right, with the plan in his possession. he has made a clean breast of everything. the plans were to have been photographed down to microscopic size and the films taken over to cauvin sewn into his clothing. two of my men are on their way to arrest cauvin at once." but cauvin proved too quick for us. as the agents of the surete approached his house he must have recognised them and realised that the game was up. directly they intimated to him that he was under arrest he snatched a revolver from his pocket and shot himself before their eyes. i have no doubt the result would have been the same if he had received the violet-scented card, which now, with the bogus invitation to the easterbrook wedding, remains one of my cherished mementoes of one of the most fascinating of the many mysteries i have helped to unravel. thus by the hands of the huns themselves the public were spared an astounding scandal, and the allies were rid of three ingenious scoundrels engaged in a clever and insidious campaign. after easterbrook's death we were able to unravel the whole conspiracy. easterbrook and van rosen were two of the fingers of the hidden hand in england. they operated by means of banking accounts in various names, handling large sums placed freely at their disposal by other wealthy naturalised "britons," who proved in their own persons the truth of the adage coined in by a naturalised hun--"once a german, always a german." most of them were laid by the heels, and now, behind barricades of barbed wire in remote parts of the country, have leisure to repent the day when they matched their cunning against the skill of the international secret service bureau of the allies. chapter ten. the mystery of blind heinrich. "blind heinrich!" without any conscious effort of memory on my part, these words flashed suddenly into my mind, as, six weeks or so after the events just related, i sat lazily in armand hecq's private room in the boulevard des capucines, turning over our latest problem in my mind, while i waited for the astute chief, who was busy investigating a report which had just been brought in by one of his numerous financial clients--in other words, by one of the numerous expert agents whom he kept constantly busy up and down europe, at the task of countering the villainous work of the spy bureau in berlin. "i wonder whether he is mixed up in the affair," i mused; rapidly working out a new train of thought to which the old scoundrel's name had given rise. so intent was i that i did not notice hecq's entrance. his quick eye noticed my absorption. "a penny for your thoughts, _mon cher_ gerald," he laughed. "well," i said with a smile, "i was pretty far away, i admit. the fact is, i was wondering whether blind heinrich is taking any part in the game?" the director of the international secret service of the allies raised his brows and stared at me across the big, littered writing-table. behind him a tape machine was clicking out its message, just as it should in a well-ordered financier's office. he was evidently surprised. "by jove!" he exclaimed in english, which he spoke to perfection. "i never thought of him! my dear gerald, old heinrich is an extremely wily bird; and if he is mixed up in this business we shall have all our work cut out. remember how he wriggled out of our hands in the gould affair, when we thought we had him safely netted?" the gould affair! i should think i did remember it! i took a part in tracing and arresting the spy, frederick adolphus gould, who lived near chatham, and who, a few months before the war, was sent to prison for five years for attempted espionage. the case was a bad one. for years "gould" had posed, like so many of his unscrupulous countrymen, as a good, patriotic john bull englishman, unable to speak german, expressing hatred of germany and the kaiser, and warning us that wax would come. yet, after his arrest, i had gone to germany very much incognito to make inquiries, and found that exceedingly patriotic "englishman" was the son of a certain baron von s--, that he had been born in berlin in , had fought in the franco-german war, and had been awarded the customary iron cross! now one of "gould's" closest friends in england had been a certain norwegian named heinrich kristensten, a half-blind violinist who lived at hampstead. some strange facts came to light in the course of our inquiries, but the afflicted musician forestalled us by very cleverly coming forward and denouncing his whilom friend--not, however, before he saw that gould was quite hopelessly entangled in the net which had been spread for him by the british secret service. his action, of course, was quite in accord with german practice. seeing that the game was up, so far as gould was concerned, he saved himself on the principle that one loss was better than two. his name had leaped spontaneously into my mind in connection with the latest problem upon which we were engaged-- the mysterious manner in which, despite the rigid british censorship, details of the damage done in london by the raiding gothas were so quickly and so accurately transmitted to berlin. that they were so transmitted we knew, for the german papers promptly published them. and obviously, if severely censored matters of this kind were leaking out, there was some channel of information open of which we were unaware. we had to find and close it. now, as is well known, every wireless message which passes from the outer world to berlin, or from berlin to the outer world, is picked up and decoded at our wireless stations. the news was, we knew, not sent by wireless. yet it was clear the wilhelmstrasse got early information, not only as to where the bombs were dropped, but the extent of the damage done, both points on which they could not obtain the slightest information from the english papers. these details were published by the german and swiss papers, and, allowing for berlin's invariable exaggeration of its own prowess, they were remarkably full and accurate. the task before me was to find out how the news was transmitted, and it was one, i confess, which fairly bristled with difficulties. "heinrich, being a neutral, has lately been showing a great interest in the welfare of blinded british soldiers," i remarked to hecq. "if he were a friend of gould's, why should he do this?" "for some reason of his own," said hecq, "possibly to avert suspicion. we know pretty well that he was very deep in it with gould and had received money from him. perhaps you will recollect that he admitted it, explaining that it was a loan, and indeed we found his i.o.u. in gould's desk, made out, no doubt, `to lend artistic verisimilitude to a bald and otherwise unconvincing narrative,' as your gilbert has it. you know he said his daughter had been ill, and that in consequence he was short of money. that was too weak; we knew well enough that heinrich made a good deal out of his fiddle, as his bank balance showed. he was not short of money at all, and i have not the least doubt that the `loan' was for value received in the shape of information or assistance, perhaps both." "yes, i remember now," i said, reflecting deeply. three weeks went by. i was tired and run down, and decided to snatch a fortnight with doris in worcestershire before embarking upon a task which was likely to be arduous, if not actually dangerous. greatly strengthened by my sojourn in delightful worcestershire, i was back in town, keenly interested in the work i had in hand. one evening i had been down to hertford, and was returning by the great eastern railway to liverpool street, when, just before ten o'clock, the train pulled up abruptly at stratford, all lights were instantly extinguished, and i was swept into an excited throng of several hundreds of refugees in the subway beneath the line. there, amid a motley gathering, largely composed of panic-stricken foreign jews, i was compelled to remain for over three hours, listening to the venomous barking of the anti-aircraft guns and the occasional rending, ear-splitting crash of a high explosive bomb. it was the first time i had seen the alien under air-raid conditions, though i had heard a good deal about him; and as i watched the cowardly wretches my whole mind was revolted at the thought that a large proportion of these quivering masses of jelly, for in their fright they were little else, had been welcomed to british citizenship under the imbecile naturalisation system. no one blamed them for being frightened: the englishwomen and children of the working classes, huddled in the shelters, were quite obviously frightened, and small wonder. but if they were frightened, they were brave, and they kept their self-control even when the infernal racket overhead was at its worst. i had seldom seen a better proof of the essential superiority of the briton over the harpies who prey upon him, and as i watched i felt proud that, cosmopolitan as i am, i had good english blood in my veins. at ten o'clock next morning i went to whitehall, where exact of all the damage done by the gothas was placed freely at my disposal. from the secret reports i made certain extracts for future use. five days later. as i sat in my flat in curzon street, my man, burton, brought in copies of the _general anzeiger fur elberfeld-barmen_, the berlin _borsen courier_, and the _tageblatt_, all of which had been sent me by special messenger from whitehall. i opened them, and in both the _general anzeiger_ and the _tageblatt_ were exultant articles on the success of the air raid upon the metropolitan area a few nights before. they were, of course, luridly "written up," but they contained a great deal of perfectly accurate information, as i knew by the secret reports shown to me directly after the raid. how could the enemy know? of course, the blazing accounts of the terror and panic supposed to have been created in london could have been written up anywhere. but how was it that not only were the localities in which the bombs had fallen accurately specified, but in several instances details were given of the exact damage to certain buildings? by no possibility could the latter information have been the result of an effort of teutonic imagination. the enemy _knew_; proof of it was there in cold print. how did the news reach the wilhelmstrasse so quickly? it was certainly not by wireless, for every message was picked up and decoded by our own stations. that the news had not passed through the great german wireless stations of norddeich, at the north of the elbe, or nauen, near berlin, was certain. here was a pretty problem set for solution. as i sat alone in my room that evening, having dined at my club and returned to the enjoyment of slippers, a novel, and a good cigar, i reflected on the task i had in hand. i realised, of course, that my suspicions of blind heinrich might be entirely unfounded, but i had at the moment nothing better to go upon, and i decided that, in view of his known association with gould, whether he was mixed up with the matter we now had in hand or not, a close watch upon him might provide some facts of interest. upon my arrival in london from paris, i had sought out blind heinrich, who was now living in a boarding-house in hereford road, bayswater, close to westbourne grove. in the same house was now living a dainty little woman, a belgian refugee, who was in very straitened circumstances. according to her own story, she had become separated from her husband, a rich merchant of brussels, before going on board a boat at ostend, during the terrible flight from belgium in . since then she had been unable to obtain the slightest information about him, and did not know even whether he was alive or dead. for nearly three years, she related, she had remained in terrible anxiety, which was rapidly wrecking her nerves and her life. as a refugee, a pitiful victim of the catastrophe which had befallen her beloved country, she was existing upon english charity. she called herself madame taymans, and her old address in happier days was in the rue de namur in brussels. but her real name was--gabrielle soyez! few women in the world could so perfectly adapt themselves to the ever-changing demands of the secret service as madame soyez. in her present circumstances she was absolutely at home, for she had been educated in part at a convent near gembloux, and could assume the belgian accent to perfection. it was an easy matter, therefore, for her to pass for what she pretended to be. in hereford road the frenchwoman had established herself on my instruction for the purpose of keeping a watchful eye upon the quiet, long-haired, half-blind violinist, who, to all appearances, was eking out only a meagre existence, and whose clothes were of that shabby-genteel brand which usually betrays respectable poverty. but we knew enough of heinrich's affairs to be convinced that the shabby-genteel role was deliberately assumed for purposes of deception. a splendid musician and a born teacher, heinrich could command his own terms, and, as a matter of fact, he made a good deal of money. more than this, he was well known in high circles of society, where his teaching abilities gave him the _entree_ to a large number of the best houses. and, of course, no one ever suspected that the half-blind old fiddler, crawling from house to house in the aristocratic quarters in which he found most of his pupils, was in reality the alert and dangerous agent of the enemy which subsequent events revealed him to be. chapter eleven. an air raid on london. one night of brilliant moonlight, i had just come in from a visit to a theatre and was glancing through the evening papers before turning in, when my telephone bell rang. on replying, i found the caller was madame gabrielle, and in consequence of the cryptic message she gave me i abandoned the idea of going to bed and remained keenly on the alert. for a full hour nothing occurred. then i heard the air raid warnings for which i had been waiting and soon after the guns, distant at first, but gradually drawing nearer, began to boom out their defiance of the aerial invaders. for nearly two hours the raid continued at brief intervals, as squadron after squadron of gothas came hurtling through the night sky on their mission of hate. as soon as the "all clear" signal was given, i hurried out and made my way rapidly to harrington street, a quiet thoroughfare at the back of cadogan square, with dark, old-fashioned houses, each with the deep basement and flight of steps to the front door so characteristic of a period of architecture which we may hope has passed away for ever. one of these houses was my objective, and i soon found it, for its door was painted in a light shade, quite different from the hue of sombre respectability which characterised all its neighbours in the gloomy street. it was noticeable that while nearly every house in the street showed lights--the inmates had not yet got over their scare and could be heard volubly discussing the alarms and excursions of the night--this particular house was in total darkness and was as silent as the grave. i soon located a deep doorway from which i, myself unseen, could keep a close watch on the dark and silent house, and commenced my vigil. presently a man wearing a long light overcoat turned from the square into harrington street, and, sauntering leisurely along, ascended the steps of the house i was watching, and let himself in with a latchkey. five minutes later a second man passed close to where i was standing-- luckily my doorway was in deep shadow and he did not notice me--and also entered the house. two others followed in quick succession. one of them i instantly recognised by his gait. it was blind heinrich! for four hours i kept surveillance, and during that time no fewer than seven men arrived, each letting himself in with his latchkey. it was evident we had found out the meeting-place of some highly doubtful individuals, whose obvious familiarity with the locality, coupled with the strange hours at which they arrived, indicated quite clearly that some nefarious scheme was afoot. it was evident, too, that the old norwegian belonged to the gang. and i began to feel assured that our suspicions as to his real character were well founded. it would have been difficult to find a better place for the meeting, for harrington street, though readily accessible, led to nowhere in particular, and was as quiet a thoroughfare as any in london. no one would notice the arrival at intervals of the men, policemen rarely visited the street, and after midnight it was entirely deserted save for the occasional arrival home of some belated resident. it was not until five o'clock in the morning that the last man arrived in a taxi, which, however, did not come along the street, but deposited him at the corner of the square. a quarter of an hour later they began to come out singly, at intervals of about five minutes, dispersing in different directions. there was no sign, however, of heinrich kristensten. "well, _mon cher_ gerald," said madame gabrielle, as she sat with me in my flat in curzon street, soon after breakfast the same morning. "you see they receive warning of coming air raids and meet directly after. who are they?" "enemy spies, beyond any possibility of doubt," i replied. "our course is clear now. when the next raid is made we must follow them individually and learn each man's identity. i will make all the arrangements. meanwhile, do you continue as you are and keep an eye on the blind fiddler." madame gabrielle returned to hereford road to continue her watch. for my own part, i set to work, and very soon discovered that the mysterious house in harrington street was unoccupied and was to let furnished. in the guise of a possible tenant i went over it thoroughly, but could see nothing suspicious, except that i ascertained that the caretaker was an old compatriot of heinrich's. the owner, who had left london and was now residing on the south coast, was well known and his loyalty was beyond dispute. it then became evident that the caretaker was cognisant of the secret meeting, if, indeed, he was not closely concerned in the business, whatever it might be, that brought these men together in an empty house at dead of night so soon after a raid, when most honest people would be only too anxious to get to bed as promptly as possible. it was obviously necessary that we should learn all we could about the identity of the men who met in the empty house in harrington street, and i was soon in touch with the special branch, and made all the necessary arrangements for shadowing our suspects. four nights later another raid took place. as soon as the gothas were gone we were all swiftly at our posts. so thoroughly was the house surrounded that a mouse could hardly have gone in or out undetected. yet there was no sign of a watcher, and anyone going to the house would certainly be in blissful ignorance of the fact that he was under the close scrutiny of the keen eyes of the secret service. there is very little clumsy "shadowing" about the special branch! but we watched in vain. no meeting was held, or if it was it was held elsewhere. the blind musician, it is true, left his room in bayswater, but he never reached harrington street. the house remained all night silent and apparently deserted. i wondered whether the gang had by any chance discovered our activities and taken alarm. i was not very deeply concerned about it, apart from the chagrin which the delay caused me. blind heinrich, at any rate, could hardly escape us, and, if the gang had for any reason changed its place of meeting, i had little doubt that we should soon discover it. but who had blundered? i felt certain that it was not madame gabrielle, and i did not think it could be myself. one morning i received a note from the clever little frenchwoman, asking me to take tea with her at hereford road that afternoon, and adding: "i have something to show you." of course i went, and we had tea together in the big drawing-room which she used in common with the other guests in the boarding-house. several of the old ladies who lived in the house were present. just as we had finished our tea, madame exclaimed: "do excuse me, m'sieur! i have forgotten my handkerchief." rising, she left me. when she returned she was carrying a work-bag of blue brocaded silk, which she placed upon her lap as she reseated herself. in her hand also she had an evening paper which she handed to me with a casual remark that i might like to look at it while she got her work ready. i knew well enough that this was for the benefit of the other people in the room, who, as usual, were keenly interested in any friends of a pretty woman, and were scrutinising me pretty carefully. i knew, too, that gabrielle had some further motive in her mind. accordingly, i leaned back in my chair and read the paper diligently. a moment later i noticed madame gabrielle telegraphing me in our "finger morse." "look carefully at the book showing in the mouth of my work-bag," she signalled, "and get a copy at once. it belongs to heinrich, and i have just borrowed it from his room. he may be back at any moment--he has only just gone out--and i must replace it at once." she had casually left the mouth of her work-bag open. it revealed the title-page of an open book, published, as i saw, about seven years before. the title was _royal love letters_. i had never heard of the volume, but i made a note of its title. madame gabrielle, with an excuse, quitted the room for a few moments, taking the book with her in her bag. on her return she began talking pleasantly about general subjects, but she was listening keenly, i could see. soon we heard the front door slam, and a heavy shuffling tread crossed the hall and went up the stairs. "blind heinrich," she telegraphed; "i was only just in time. he is terribly watchful, and would certainly have noticed if the book had not been on the table where he left it. i often wonder whether he is as blind as he pretends to be. you had better go; if he comes in here for tea, it is quite possible he may recognise you." a quarter of an hour later we were walking along westbourne grove together, and gabrielle told me the history of the mysterious book. for several days, she said, she had been following heinrich, who had suddenly developed an amazing interest in second-hand bookstalls. he had gone into shop after shop in various parts of london, asked a single question apparently, and come out again. at length she had managed to overhear him ask at one shop for a copy of _royal love letters_. the shopkeeper had not the volume in stock, and, as the request was such a peculiar one for a man of heinrich's temperament, madame gabrielle determined to run risks and follow him daily. he entered six more shops, making the same request at each, and at length, in a dingy little by-lane in soho, managed, to his evident glee, to get what he wanted, and carried it back to hereford road with obvious satisfaction. "why that particular book, and why so much trouble to get it?" said madame gabrielle. "what do you make of it, mr sant?" i made nothing of it, except that there seemed to be good reasons why i should get a copy at once. if _royal love letters_ interested heinrich kristensten so deeply, it might well be that it would not be wholly without interest for me. my first care was to ring up hecq on the official telephone and give him full particulars respecting heinrich's sudden interest in an obscure and practically unknown volume published and forgotten seven years ago. it was quite clear that this was a hint we could not ignore, but i confess i failed to see how it helped us. but i was soon to learn more; hecq's quick brain had seen a possibility which i had overlooked. at seven next morning, before i was out of bed, my telephone rang, and hecq once more spoke to me. "i have been searching the papers, sant," he said, "and i have found out something that will interest you. listen carefully. in the _petit parisien_ five days ago there was an advertisement for the recovery of a lady's gold trinket. i have it here. i'll read it to you," and he read: _perdus ou trouves_. perdu met. opera breloque or. vialet marigny r. . "yes," i said, "i hear you. but what has that to do with me?" "listen," said hecq. "there is nobody named vialet at that address; we found that out at once. i have had nearly fifty of my people examining every advertisement in the paris papers issued just before heinrich began to display an interest in _royal love letters_. now we have found out that the advertisement i have just read to you conveys in cryptogrammic form the message, `buy _royal love letters_.' it would take too long to explain it, but the paper containing that advertisement would be on sale in london the very day on which, according to madame gabrielle, heinrich began to haunt the second-hand bookstalls on his peculiar quest. rather curious, is it not?" curious it certainly was, and once more i found myself confronted with a further enigma. why on earth should the book be advertised in cryptogrammic form in a french newspaper? how did heinrich come to see the advertisement, and how did he know the key to the code? no doubt the paper had accepted the innocent-looking advertisement without the slightest suspicion that it was anything but the genuine announcement it purported to be. it was impossible to overlook the coincidence between the appearance of the advertisement and blind heinrich's sudden deep interest in a forgotten book. next day i started out in search of a copy of _royal love letters_. of course i failed to get one: it had been out of print for years, as it had been published privately and comparatively few copies had been printed. however, i sent wires to some twenty provincial dealers in second-hand books, and at noon next day had a reply from a dealer in birmingham, offering me a copy for four and sixpence. i wired the money, and next morning received the shabby little volume. little did i realise what a dividend my investment of four shillings and sixpence was going to pay me! on reading the book through, i found it was merely a monograph on the published love letters of various royal personages. it was as dull as the proverbial ditch-water, and i was not surprised at the difficulty both heinrich and myself had experienced in securing copies: the wonder was that any had escaped the fire or the waste-paper basket. but the very fact made heinrich's interest in the book the more suspicious. it conveyed nothing to me, it is true, about gotha raids on london, but did it convey anything to heinrich, or was it the means of conveying anything from him to someone else? i called up madame gabrielle on the 'phone, and after she had arrived and examined the volume, we went out to lunch at the ritz. across the table i told her of the curious advertisement in the _petit parisien_, whereupon she exclaimed: "why, kristensten reads that paper regularly. i often see him with it. he goes down practically every column of it with his big reading-glass!" "that settles two points, anyhow," i said. "the first is that he uses that paper for receiving, and perhaps for sending messages. the second is that he knows the spy-cipher used in drawing up the advertisement. i am beginning to feel that this out-of-print and forgotten book will, if we watch carefully, supply us with a very interesting line to follow." and, ringing up hecq, i told him about the latest development. he was keenly alive to the possibilities of the new situation. chapter twelve. the secret of the ribbon. our new discovery seemed to me so remarkable that i lost no time in impressing upon madame gabrielle the imperative necessity of the closest possible scrutiny of blind heinrich's actions. i was more than anxious that we should not lose sight of him for an instant, and that i should be kept fully informed of his every action. for by this time i was firmly convinced that, through some medium which we had yet to discover, he was in some way keeping up communication with the more active agents of the enemy. and if we could but discover the channel through which the stream of communications flowed, it would not be long, i felt sure, before we had the key to the mystery in our hands. suddenly, and without any obvious reason, heinrich completely changed his habits. hitherto always on the move, he took to remaining indoors all day, hardly ever going out except for a short stroll in the evening. he met no one and apparently spoke scarcely a word to anybody. what his numerous pupils thought of his sudden neglect of them i cannot say. but it was clear enough that something important must have occurred to induce him thus suddenly to abandon what was, professedly at any rate, his sole means of livelihood. i was discussing him--he was almost invariably our sole topic of conversation nowadays--with madame gabrielle as she sat in my room one morning. "i cannot conceive of any reason," i said, "why heinrich should have so suddenly changed the entire routine of his existence. it looks to me as though either something very important has happened or that he is expecting important news. yet he receives no messages; he never gets even a letter or a telegram." "there is only one fact that is peculiar," said the smart frenchwoman. "you know i have been looking after him pretty closely lately. well, whenever he goes out, though he appears to wander about quite aimlessly, he invariably contrives his walk so that it takes him through lembridge square. he never misses." "does he always go the same side of the square?" i asked. she replied in the affirmative, and i decided to have a look round the square for myself at once. that same afternoon found me on the scene of blind heinrich's daily walk. the square itself varied little from hundreds of others in london: it showed every evidence of dreary respectability common to half the squares in london. two things, however, attracted my notice. in the ground-floor window of one house was a big brass cage containing a grey parrot, which was insistently emitting the hideous noises common to the parrot tribe. in a similar window about a dozen houses away was a case containing some old-fashioned wax flowers beneath a glass dome, evidently a survival from the ornamental style peculiar to the early victorian epoch to which, indeed, the whole dreary square seemed to belong. there was nothing to offer a lucid explanation of why blind heinrich should choose such a path for his daily ramble. there were dozens of other far more attractive promenades within easy walking distance. yet here, unless my instinct entirely misled me, was the solution to our riddle. day after day i followed the old fellow's route. i even went so far as to shadow heinrich himself more than once and verified madame gabrielle's observation. no matter which way he started out, he never failed, on either the outward or homeward journey, to pass along that particular side of the square. yet he never spoke to anyone, and i was morally certain that no signal was ever made to him from any of the houses. on the fourth day i noticed a slight fact. the ring on the top of the parrot's cage was tied with a big bow of yellow ribbon. three days later it was altered to dark blue. on the eighth day it had returned to yellow again. why these changes? were they signals? that night enemy aircraft crossed the south-east coast, but their attempts to reach london were defeated by the terrific fire of the anti-aircraft guns and by a swift concentration of our fighting aeroplanes, which broke up several successive squadrons, and sent the raiders hurrying home again. several of my capable assistants then took over the task of finding out all that was known regarding the house in lembridge square. forty-eight hours later i had a full report. i learned that the man in whose room the parrot lived was one of the mysterious band who foregathered to meet kristensten in the empty house in harrington street. he was then dressed as a special constable, a part which, by the way, he had no right whatever to play. he bore the thoroughly english name of mostyn brown, and was in business in the city as the agent of a manchester firm of cotton merchants. apart from the fact of his presence that night in harrington street, nothing that the most exhaustive inquiries revealed suggested in the smallest degree any association with agents of the enemy. to all appearances he was a perfectly respectable city man, in no way different from thousands of others. but--there was a very big but: what was his business in the dead of night in an empty house in the west end in company of a suspected german spy? a few days later the men who were keeping the houses in lembridge square and hereford road under surveillance sent me a strange report, which set me thinking deeply. by some means--whether he suspected he was being watched or whether a lucky chance favoured him, we never knew--blind heinrich managed to elude the unwearying vigilance of madame gabrielle and arrived alone, evidently in a hurry, at westbourne grove. here he hailed a taxi and was driven to waterloo station. there at the booking-office on the loop-line side he had met a short, fat man, to whom, after a brief conversation, he handed a bottle wrapped in white paper. they remained in conversation a few minutes longer and then parted. the fat man was followed to the tube railway and thence to king's cross, where he had bought a ticket for peterborough, and left by the five-thirty express. why peterborough, i wondered? there were certainly no facilities there for anyone engaged in germany's nefarious work. but attached to the report was a snapshot--taken secretly, of course--which showed me at once that the little fat man was apparently a sailor, "camouflaged" hastily in a badly fitting overcoat and a cloth cap. that gave me a further clue. i took down a bradshaw, and, glancing at the train by which the little fat man had travelled, made an interesting discovery. it was the newcastle express. i began to see why the mysterious little man had booked to peterborough. that afternoon i ascertained that the parrot's cage in the house in lembridge square sported a broad ribbon of yellow satin. at midnight i rang up hecq at his house at st germain, and asked him to send aubert the detective over at once. an hour after midnight came another air-raid alarm--the second to coincide with the appearance of the yellow ribbon. now one coincidence of this kind may mean nothing. two begin to be suspicious. a third is convincing. i found my suspicions deepening into certainty. directly the air-raid warning was given, our watchers in harrington street were keenly on the alert, but, though they watched all night, there was no meeting of the mysterious men in the empty house. i guessed the reason. the raiders were again driven back before they could reach the metropolis, and, therefore, there was no news to be gathered for transmission to the authorities in berlin. everything now pointed with increasing certainty to the house in lembridge square as a focus of enemy activity. directly the "all clear" had been sounded over the london area, heinrich left hereford road, and, according to madame gabrielle's report to me, hurried round to the house of the grey parrot. he remained there about half an hour, and then retraced his steps home in the waning moonlight. thus mystery followed mystery. what was the meaning of the various coloured bows on the parrot's cage? for that they had a very definite meaning i no longer doubted. it seemed, indeed, tolerably clear that the yellow ribbon betokened a coming raid. and evidently the half-blind old musician was a close friend of the manufacturers' agent. but who, in reality, was the mysterious mostyn brown, and, if he were indeed an enemy agent, how had he managed to elude the close watch that had been set upon him? it had struck me that the house which sheltered the grey parrot might conceivably conceal a wireless plant of sufficient power to convey a message to a submarine lurking off the coast. such a plant need not be a conspicuous affair. but one of my agents, posing as an official of the metropolitan water board, had been able to negative the suggestion, and i confess i found myself still hopelessly puzzled as to the means by which information of the damage done by the raiding aircraft was so speedily and so accurately conveyed to the enemy. by this time aubert had arrived from paris, and had taken an obscure lodging in chessington street, a dingy thoroughfare off the euston road. by appointment i met him late one night at the corner of grey's inn road and holborn, and, having explained to him briefly what had occurred, told him to hold himself in readiness for instant action. the apparent abandonment of the secret meetings in harrington street was a source of considerable anxiety and chagrin. i was particularly anxious about them. we had several of those who had taken part in the first meeting under close observation, but had learned nothing about them sufficient to justify our taking strong action. most of them, indeed, seemed to be of the same apparently blameless type as mr mostyn brown, and it was evident that if they were indeed enemy agents they had been selected or appointed by a master-hand at the game of espionage. and i wanted badly to gain some more information about them. madame gabrielle was ever on the alert, and soon it appeared from her report that the blind fiddler was expecting another raid. the ribbon bow on the parrot's cage changed to dark blue, and remained so for six days. on the seventh it was replaced by yellow. that night the old man remained in his room reading for hours after all the other inmates had retired. but that night no raid was made. i now began to think that it would be well if i took the mysterious mostyn brown under my own special observation. for a week during the moonless nights i shadowed him closely. i found out that he was a member of a certain third-class city club, frequented by a large number of "pure-blooded englishmen" who happened to bear german names--of course they had been naturalised--and very soon my name appeared on the club books. it was not long before i managed to scrape acquaintance with mostyn brown over a game of billiards. i cultivated his friendship eagerly, and very soon we were on excellent terms. as a matter of fact, i wanted an invitation to his house, and at last i got it. i spent there one of the dullest evenings of my life, an evening, as it happened, entirely wasted. beyond noting that the ribbon on the parrot's cage had again turned to blue, i saw nothing of the slightest interest. the next night, however, i made a discovery. dropping in at the club, i found mostyn brown engaged in a game of billiards with a man whom i knew in the club as harry smith. a bullet-headed, bespectacled person, with hair standing erect as the bristles of a blacking brush, smith looked the typical hun, and i very soon decided in my own mind that heinrich schmidt was probably the name by which he was first known to the world. suddenly a dispute arose about some point in the game, and in a moment words were running high. half a dozen spectators noisily joined in the altercation, and the room was a babel of dispute. i saw my chance. taking mostyn brown's side, i suddenly interjected a sentence in german. apparently hardly noticing the change in his excitement mostyn brown replied in the same language, and his accent told me at once that he was not of british birth. there was no possibility of mistake, for, however well the hun may speak our tongue, he will inevitably betray himself when in a moment of excitement he lapses into his own language. my suspicions of mostyn brown were naturally intensified a hundredfold by this discovery. of course, i redoubled my efforts, and was in daily conference with certain highly placed people in whitehall, whose curiosity was now fully roused, as well as with my own agents, the vivacious madame gabrielle and the slow, but painstaking and relentless, aubert. the watch on the suspects became closer than ever, and i was convinced that, try how he might, none of them could move, practically speaking, without full details of what he was doing reaching me in the course of an hour or two at most. and i was ready to strike hard at the earliest moment when decisive action might seem justified. for the moment, however, there was nothing to be done but watch and wait, tense and expectant, while night by night the moon drew nearer and nearer to the full. thanks to the information i was able to place before the authorities in whitehall, there was little chance of the anti-aircraft defences of london being caught napping, while the secret signal i had discovered--the changing of the coloured ribbon on the parrot's cage at mostyn brown's house in lembridge square--would be almost certain to give us warning of any long-arranged raid in force. apart from the sequel, the worst we had to expect was a sudden dash by a few machines in the event of an unexpected improvement in the weather rendering such a course possible. but with regard to the big raids, involving days of patient preparation, settled weather, and most careful and thorough organisation, we felt tolerably sure that the tell-tale ribbon would give us the warning we wanted. so it proved in the event, and once again the hun's trickiness brought his carefully planned scheme to failure. chapter thirteen. how berlin obtains information. at last the day--or rather the night--which we had been expecting came. the sun had risen in a cloudless sky, and all day long had poured down a fierce flood of heat and light. london was stifling. everyone seemed to be the victim of heat lassitude; tempers were decidedly short, and even the most amiable of people seemed suddenly to have developed raw-edged nerves. added to all this was an uneasy presentiment of danger; "there will be a big raid to-night," was the thought in the back of everyone's mind. in order to avoid arousing mostyn brown's suspicions that his house was being watched, we had given up, apparently, all observation on the place during daylight. but not in reality. in a house on the other side of the square, directly facing that occupied by mostyn brown, i had hired a room on the third floor, and from the window, with the help of powerful field-glasses, we could keep the house under the strictest watch. we had not even to enter the square to reach our tower of vantage, for there was a back entrance from an adjoining street. towards this eyrie i had bent my steps, and on arriving i found aubert in a state of suppressed excitement. "look!" he said, handing me the glasses, and, taking them from him, i levelled them at mostyn brown's room. the ribbon on the parrot's cage had been changed to yellow! but this was not all. the sun shone full on the window of mostyn brown's house and his room was strongly illuminated. the field-glasses showed us that mostyn brown was at home, a most unusual thing in the day-time, and that with him was blind heinrich. how heinrich had got there we could not imagine. aubert had not seen him enter. they were seated on chairs drawn up to the table, and were poring intently over a book, apparently making memoranda on sheets of paper. as we watched, madame gabrielle, habited as a coster girl and carrying a huge basket of flowers, came slowly along the square, past mostyn brown's house and round past the house in which we were seated. i saw her flutter a signal, and, with her arm resting naturally on the side of the basket, she rapidly tapped out a message with her nimble fingers. "heinrich has been with mostyn brown for the past two hours," she spelt out. "he came straight from hereford road and went into the next house from the back." evidently there was some way of communication at the rear of the two houses. i had now no time to waste, and, leaving aubert and madame gabrielle to keep the necessary watch, i hurried off to whitehall, where i was soon in deep talk with the astute and enterprising chief of the london defences, a keen officer who by sheer merit had forced himself to the very front rank in aircraft service. "good!" he said, when i had told him my news. "i think we shall give them a surprise to-night. perhaps you would like to see how we work. sit down for a bit." and he turned to his big table, on which stood a telephone. for the next half-hour i watched him, fascinated with his sure grasp of london's intricate defences, and amazed, though i had thought i knew his capability, at the swiftness and decision with which he issued what to me seemed a veritable jumble of orders. to centre after centre of the aircraft defences he spoke a series of numbers, so bewildering in their speed and complexity that an enemy agent seated in the very room could not have gained a scrap of information. even to me, familiar as i am with almost every branch of code work, it was a veritable revelation. "i think we are ready for them now," he said finally, wiping the perspiration from his face, and i could see that even to him the strain had been severe. how well he had done his work all england was to know the next day, though the public never even suspected the magnitude of his task. there was now nothing to do but wait; our traps were set, and it remained to be seen whether the enemy would walk into them. i made my way to my chambers for a few hours' rest and was soon deeply asleep. at half-past nine burton, my man, roused me. "the first warning has just come in," he said. i dressed swiftly and sat down to snatch a hasty supper, knowing well that it might be many hours before i tasted another meal. it was exactly ten o'clock when the report of the first maroon broke the stillness, and london, with one accord, hastened to cover. ten minutes later the streets were deserted, and a midnight hush reigned supreme. the great city seemed a city of the dead. as we listened a faint, distant boom struck softly on our ears. the strafe had begun! suddenly, far away to the eastward, a searchlight flickered up into the sky; another and another followed in rapid succession, and soon the entire sky was covered and chequered by dozens of wavering pillars of flame, moving to and fro, methodically searching the heavens as though moved by a single hand. far above us i caught the soft purr of an aeroplane, evidently one of our own, for the sound was quite different from the deeper and rougher note of the gothas. suddenly, with a deafening crash, half a dozen guns barked simultaneously, and, looking out, i saw far away, seemingly caught on a pencil of living light, the ethereal butterfly shape of an enemy aircraft. a second later, in quick succession, came the unmistakable sound of bursting bombs. in the midst of the tumult a single tiny light showed for a moment far up in the sky, just outside the ring of shrapnel that was bursting all round the enemy craft, now hopelessly entangled in the beams of a dozen converging searchlights, and, dive and drop as it would, utterly unable to escape from the zone of effulgent radiance in which it seemed to float. instantly every gun was silent! we caught the crackle of a machine-gun far up in the air, and a moment later the enemy machine burst into a lurid sheet of flame, and the blazing mass pitched headlong to earth amid a roar of cheering from watchers, who in thousands had braved all possible danger to see the aerial fight heralded by the outburst of machine-gun fire. it was obvious that one of our sentinel aeroplanes, perched far above the raider, had caught sight of him in the searchlights, and, swooping swift as a hawk on his quarry, had sent the gotha a fiery run to the earth twelve thousand feet below. i learned later that the gotha had fallen in essex, the three occupants calcined to cinders in the flood of blazing petrol. that was the extent of london's excitement for the night. it was not until some hours later that i learnt that no fewer than eight squadrons of gothas, each consisting of four machines, had started out on their errand of murder for london. only a single machine got through, and that now lay a heap of ruins. the rest had been split up by gun fire, caught in the beams of endless searchlights, harried to and fro by a vast concentration of british fighting planes swiftly assembled when the warning of the yellow ribbon had become known, and had been relentlessly chased homeward in utter disorder. their repulse was a triumph brought about by colonel --'s masterly effort at organisation, when i conveyed to him in whitehall the news which had reached me through a simple yellow ribbon tied to a grey parrot's cage! reports soon began to reach me in swift succession from my subordinates in many quarters. hereford road, harrington street, and lembridge square were being carefully watched. madame gabrielle and aubert, the latter dressed in the guise of a seafarer, were on the alert, with dozens of other reliable agents, ready for anything at a moment's notice. suddenly aubert rang me up on the 'phone. i took up the receiver and spoke to him for a few moments. "meet me at the corner of harrington street at five o'clock," i said. we met in the grey light of dawn, and i soon learned that, with anything like reasonable good fortune, we had in our hands the opportunity for a great coup. blind heinrich had gone to the house soon after the "all clear" had been sounded. he had been followed by mostyn brown, again in the uniform of a special constable, and by five other men, one of whom was the little fat man who had previously met kristensten at waterloo. now i had made up my mind that the little fat man was the intermediary by whom the news collected by the other conspirators was conveyed abroad, and it was essential that he should be caught red-handed. fortune had favoured us. he had been the first to leave the house, had walked to the queen's road underground station, and, as we learnt by telephone, had travelled to king's cross. here he was at present, seated in one of the waiting-rooms, evidently intending to travel by an early train. leaving the necessary instructions with regard to the conspirators still in the house in harrington street, i accompanied aubert to king's cross. the little fat man was still there, but just after seven he walked to the booking-office and took a ticket for peterborough. just behind him in the queue of passengers were aubert and myself. when the express pulled out on its fast run to peterborough--the first stopping-place--aubert sat in the same carriage as the little fat man, apparently profoundly asleep. i was in the next compartment, ready for anything that might happen. we were not much surprised when at peterborough the little fat man remained in the train, and so we continued our journey. when tickets were examined, the little man paid excess fare to newcastle, and my hopes of an important capture rose momentarily higher. hour after hour the express raced northward, and in the afternoon we came to smoky newcastle, where we were to be the witnesses of a strange _denouement_. the little fat man, closely followed by aubert and myself, made straight for the docks. here, in haste, he boarded a steamer, one of a service which sailed regularly between newcastle and bergen. he was evidently known, for he was greeted without question by the men about the decks and promptly disappeared below. we followed, with several other passengers, and very soon i sat in the captain's cabin, swiftly explaining to "the owner" what had happened, and my suspicion of the man who had just come on board with a freedom of movement which suggested that he was one of the crew. captain jackson was one of the men who have done so much to make the north sea service a model of everything that is implied in unswerving courage and loyal devotion to duty. a fine, bluff, grey-bearded skipper of the very best type, he cared not a rap for the peril of mines and submarines which dogged him at every yard of his journeys. all he cared for or respected was the admiralty orders which gave him his chart through the ever-shifting mine-fields; with those and his crew he was ready to take his ship across to norway and to defy the huns to do their worst. his face grew grave and iron-stern as he heard my story, and, loyal englishman as he was, he instantly fell in with my suggestion for trapping the scoundrel who was bringing disgrace on the good name of all sailors by his infamous traffic with the agents of the enemy. "george humber is the name he goes by," said captain jackson, referring to the man we had followed from lembridge square. "he says he is a swede and has swedish papers. let your french friend go below and help. i'll see to it." he called up the chief engineer, andrew phail, a dour, hard, bitter scotchman, who had followed the sea for forty years and cared for nothing on earth but it and his beloved engines. if ever a man loved his machines it was phail, and if ever a man was loved and trusted by his subordinates it was he. hard though he was, his crew, with the sure instinct of the sailor, recognised his sterling qualities, and would have followed his lead through the worst storm that ever blew. indeed, the--was emphatically what is known among sailormen as "a happy ship," thanks to the captain and chief engineer, and i was not altogether surprised to learn that humber was the only discordant note among the crew; for some reason the men disliked him, though he did his work well enough. an hour later, having taken our mails on board, we dropped down the tyne bound for norway. i learned from captain jackson that humber had signed on some months before, and had made a number of trips across the north sea. he had been in the habit of travelling to london each time the vessel reached newcastle, and at length this fact had aroused captain jackson's suspicions, and he had made up his mind that this trip should be humber's last. it was, indeed, but the end came in a manner which not even captain jackson's keen wits had anticipated. in the meantime i knew that aubert, a splendid linguist, who could play many parts, from that of an idler in paris to a worker in a munition factory, was somewhere below in the engine-room, certainly not very far from humber, and assuredly very much on the alert. an hour after we left the tyne mouth i was standing with some of the passengers on deck, watching some winking signals as our convoy appeared out of the misty twilight. of what the convoy consisted i could not quite discern, but the captain, before he ascended to his bridge, had said: "our friends will pick us up presently, and they will see us safely across and look out for submarines." the night passed without incident, and the next day proved grey and windy. ever and anon one of our patrolling airships paid us a visit, while three other ships, forming our convoy, stood by, with their deadly guns ever ready to talk in deadly earnest with any submarine that might venture to show her periscope. at ten o'clock that night i was on deck watching a series of strange flashes of light showing in the eastern sky, when a sailor approached, and informed me that the captain wanted to see me in his cabin. i went at once. "look here, mr sant!" the bluff old seaman exclaimed as soon as i had closed the door, which he locked. "i've been rummaging the ship. does this interest you?" and he brought out from the drawer in his table a bottle of medicine. it had apparently been recently bought from a chemist, for it was wrapped up in the usual paper, which was still quite clean and fresh, and sealed in the usual way. "this was found by your french friend concealed in humber's trunk. your man would be up here, only he is watching the fellow below, and as he is supposed to be on duty his absence might rouse suspicions." as captain jackson ended he handed me the bottle. "it does interest me, indeed," i said. "if humber were ill enough to need medicine--and he certainly does not look it--he would hardly have brought this all the way from london without opening it." and i thought of the bottle wrapped in white paper which, on an earlier visit to london, humber had received from blind heinrich at waterloo. "i'll have a look at it, anyhow," i said. my first precaution was to soften the sealing wax with a match, so that i could unwrap the bottle without tearing the paper, and, if necessary, so replace it that no suspicion that it had been tampered with should be aroused. the bottle might prove useless as a clue. in that case we should have to seek further, and to replace the bottle in humber's trunk in such a condition that he must inevitably see that it had been opened would certainly arouse his suspicions and defeat our object. i soon had the paper opened out. the bottle of medicine seemed genuine enough. it bore the label of a well-known west end firm and the name of mr humber. i tasted the contents. "cough mixture" was my comment, and captain jackson at once confirmed me. "humber never had a cough," he remarked reflectively. "now for the paper," i said, and began examining it. it was perfectly blank, and i was experiencing a pang of disappointment when, catching on the paper the reflection of the swinging lamp, i detected in one corner a faint, glistening line. lemon juice, i was confident. under appropriate "treatment" a number of neat figures arranged in groups of three sprang into vivid prominence on the inside of the paper wrapping. they ran: -- -- ; -- -- ; -- -- ; -- -- ; -- -- ; and so on. i swiftly copied out the figures for safety, and handed the original paper to captain jackson, who, on board his own ship, was, of course, the supreme and unquestioned authority, and i wanted his full approval and support to any action that might be necessary. the figures were meaningless as they stood, but i had not forgotten old heinrich's systematic search for that odd volume of _royal love letters_. i had my copy in my bag and fetched it at once. with such an obscure book as the key to the cipher there was no need for any further elaborate precautions, and we hit upon the solution of the difficulty at once. on page the eighth letter on the fifth line was "b;" on page the sixth letter in the thirty-second line was "r"; and in a few minutes i had decoded the word "brixton." going on, i found that the message conveyed the news that number ,--road, brixton, had been wrecked by one of the bombs dropped in the recent raid; that a man, a woman, and two children had been killed. the spots where the other bombs had fallen were accurately described, and it was stated that they had done no damage beyond blowing holes in the roads and bursting gas and water mains. every word was accurate. and the key to the whole problem was the mysterious advertisement for a lost trinket in the _petit parisien_. that simple advertisement, so apparently innocent, had announced to blind heinrich the enemy's change of code! and without the book to which it referred no intelligence on earth could have deciphered the disorderly mass of figures which lay before our eyes! "well, i think we have got them now, captain," i said, "and i am sure the government will be deeply obliged to you for your assistance. but how am i going to get this fellow? if he lands in norway he will be out of our power." "come on deck," said captain jackson, with a laugh. "don't make your mind uneasy about that." i followed him up the companion-way gladder to the deck, now deserted by all save the steersman and the officer on watch. "come up to the bridge with me," said the captain. although it was so near the period of full moon the night was dark, the sky being covered by a dense mass of heavy clouds. try as we would, our eyes could not pierce the gloom, and we could see nothing a few yards from the ship. though we had parted company from the destroyers long before, we were, of course, travelling without lights in view of possible danger, and only the binnacle lamp shed a soft radiance on the ship's compass. i was soon to learn, however, how closely we were watched. captain jackson entered the wheel-house and touched a key. from the masthead above a signal lamp flashed intermittently for a few seconds. instantly from the southward winked an answering gleam, and captain jackson turned to me. "that's a destroyer," he said, "and she is coming up full speed." for the next few minutes signals were exchanged with the racing destroyer which was on our track, and soon i caught sight of the faint glow from her funnels, and then the outline of her low, rakish hull as she came abreast with us. at a signal from captain jackson our engines stopped, and soon we were lying motionless while a boat from the destroyer pulled rapidly across the gap which separated the two vessels. a few minutes later a smart naval officer came on board with four men. we were soon seated in the captain's cabin, and i rapidly gave him an outline of what had happened. his quick intelligence took in the situation at a glance. "i'll take your mr humber back with me," he said, "and you and your man can come along." but we were nearly to lose our man. as the officer and his men entered the engine-room humber caught sight of them. he started, but instantly recovered himself. as the lieutenant spoke to phail, humber watched him closely. i saw aubert move noiselessly but swiftly behind humber, evidently ready for a tussle. a moment later phail beckoned humber to come to him. instantly the spy's hand shot to his jacket pocket, and, as it came out, bringing with it a revolver, aubert sprang. the next instant the revolver was on the floor and aubert had humber in a grip of iron. ten minutes later, with humber securely handcuffed, we were on our way to the destroyer, and were soon thrashing our way at top speed for home. there is little more to tell. humber proved to be a swede named holmboe, and we clearly established the fact that he had been for a long time acting as the travelling agent of the berlin espionage bureau, carrying information to norway for transmission through the german legation in christiania. the conspirators in the house in harrington street were all taken into custody, and we soon had all the threads of their activities in our possession, including the key to the mystery of mr mostyn brown, whose connection with various little affairs of espionage was clearly established. blind heinrich, too, was at length effectively unmasked, and, with the rest of the group, is now safely under lock and key, with ample leisure to repent of the nefarious business upon which they were engaged. on this occasion, at any rate, the secret message failed to reach berlin, and i often laugh when i think of the amazement and anxiety that must have been caused in the enemy's camp at the sudden silence of their emissaries. to-day we can afford to make them a present of the truth! chapter fourteen. the great submarine plot. to be a success as a secret agent a wide knowledge of european hotels is an absolute necessity. you must, indeed, be familiar with the best hotel in every city of any importance, and scarcely less important is the personal acquaintance of the manager; for without his help you will inevitably find in your path a thousand difficulties, small and great, which, with his friendly assistance, melt almost insensibly away. duty and inclination alike have led me to make a special study of hotel life, and i think i may say, without undue egotism, that there are few _maitres d'hotel_ in europe with whom i am not on terms of acquaintance, and even in many cases warm friendship. i was especially fortunate in this respect in the situation in which i found myself one sunny morning in june, . as the clock struck ten i strolled out of a big hotel, which i will call the waldesruhe, in lucerne, and wandered along the shady avenue beside the lake in the direction of the schwanen-platz. luigi battini, the manager of the waldesruhe, was one of my closest personal friends, and i should have stayed at the waldesruhe at any time i was in lucerne quite apart from the particular business which had brought me there on this occasion. luigi was one of those marvellously efficient human machines which appear almost to reach omniscience in everything connected, even remotely, with his profession. he would give his guests, off hand and without the slightest hesitation, minutely detailed directions for the most complicated of journeys without opening a time-table, and invariably his information was correct to the smallest particular. he knew at what stations every dining-car was put on every train within a radius of hundreds of miles, and he impressed upon you, in the far-off pre-war days, to remember that the train left weis for passau twenty minutes earlier this month than the hour mentioned in the time-table. his memory, especially for faces, was prodigious. indeed, it was to this that i owed the beginnings of our friendship. years before luigi had been a waiter at the great buffet at liverpool where passengers from the incoming american boats were in the habit of snatching a hasty meal before joining the train for london. i had arrived in england from new york cold and hungry, and, owing to some delay about my baggage, was unable to get to the restaurant until just before the london express was due to start. i had not realised how long i had been delayed, and had just taken my first mouthful of the soup which luigi had brought me when the bell heralding the immediate departure of the train rang loudly. with a muttered ejaculation of annoyance i hastily threw down on the table the price of my abandoned meal and rushed out, jumped into the train, and a moment later was speeding londonwards, still cold and hungry and in the very worst of tempers. of course i promptly forgot the incident, and it was not until a year later that i was forcibly reminded of it. i had again arrived in liverpool from new york and hurried to the same restaurant for a meal. by some queer chance i made for a table at which luigi was still the waiter. i should not have known him, but he recollected me and our previous meeting. with a profound bow and a smiling flash of his exquisite teeth, luigi said quizzically: "good evening, monsieur. has monsieur returned for his dinner?" i looked at him in blank astonishment for a moment, then burst into a roar of laughter, as i remembered both him and the long-forgotten incident of a year before. the ice was effectually broken between us, and when i left for london i felt i had made a friend of the smiling italian. but it was years before i discovered how deep and loyal a mutual regard had sprung out of a trifling incident. but the best friendships not infrequently owe their origin to some such triviality. time had slipped by since then, and luigi had climbed the ladder until the humble waiter was a power in the great cosmopolitan world of the hotel. but to me, at any rate, he was the luigi of old; to others he might be merely the official head of a perfectly appointed hotel, where arrangements seemed to go by clockwork and no one ever heard of such a thing as failure. always in a frock-coat, whatever the season, whatever the hour of the day; always wearing the diamond pin given him by a travelling monarch; always alert though never obtrusive; known to all his guests, but familiar with hardly any--such was luigi battini. and he was one of hecq's "friends." i had gone to lucerne on purpose to learn something from his lips which he would not risk in the post, and what he had told me half an hour earlier had set me thinking deeply. it entirely confirmed certain information i had been able to gain in london and lisbon. after a long and meditative walk, i seated myself on the _terrasse_ of a cafe overlooking the lovely lake of lucerne, and, with a _bock_ before me, wrote out a telegram as follows: "arthon, paris.--returning london fourteenth.--casentino." having finished my _bock_, i strolled along to the chief telegraph office near the station and dispatched the message. to the uninitiated it conveyed no other meaning than appeared on the surface, but its receipt at the address for which it was destined set various elements of machinery in motion. on the evening of the fourteenth there stepped from the hotel omnibus--a smartly dressed young frenchwoman, carrying a little sable pomeranian dog and followed by a porter with her luggage. luigi met her in the hall, and, with his heels clicked together in his usual attitude of welcome, received her with an exquisite bow. she engaged a room, signed the visitors' book in the usual way, and then allowed battini to conduct her up by the lift. as she passed me our eyes met, but without the slightest sign of recognition. even though the newly arrived guest was none other than my smartest assistant, madame gabrielle soyez. next day, in consequence of a note i sent her, we met in one of the sitting-rooms in the further, and at the present moment unoccupied--wing of the hotel. she then told me that her own sitting-room was next to one occupied by a swedish engineer named oscar engstrom, whom i had watched in lisbon a month before and who was now in switzerland engaged on some mysterious business which we had not been able to fathom. we strongly suspected, however, from various bits of evidence that had reached us, that the man was in the pay of germany at the moment, even if he were not one of the regular german agents. when i entered, madame gabrielle, smartly attired in a tailor-made gown of navy-blue cloth and a very bewitching hat, was standing at the window, with her pet dog beneath her arm, chatting to the immaculate luigi, gazing the while on the blue waters of the lake. i found myself reflecting how typically french she was in every detail-- dainty in face and figure, immaculately dressed, and possessing that indefinably vivacious great charm which seems to be the monopoly of the cultured frenchwoman. she could throw it aside when she chose, such was her wonderful versatility, and assume a mask of dullness and stupidity sufficient to ensure that no one meeting her would give her a second glance. it was a valuable accomplishment, and more than once had carried her safely through a difficult and dangerous situation. to-day, among friends, she was her own sunny self. "ah, monsieur gerald," she cried, springing forward to greet me, "our friend luigi has been telling me some very strange things--eh?" "i have told madame pretty well all i know," said the suave italian, in excellent english; "but it is not much. engstrom has engaged a room for a lady friend--a madame bohman." "swedish also?" i queried, with a smile. "when does our friend expect mr thornton, as he calls himself?" "he is expected any moment," replied luigi; "he has retained his room ever since he left for london." "good!" i said. and we all three sat down and plunged into an intricate discussion of every detail concerning the suspects and our plan of campaign. my instructions to luigi were to keep a constant watch upon the comings and goings of the swedish engineer and his lady friend, while to madame gabrielle fell the task of endeavouring to scrape acquaintance with the latter on her arrival, in order to try to gain from some casual remark-- for we could expect nothing more--a hint of what was in progress. engstrom's lady friend, madame bohman, arrived in due course, and, though she was quite unaware of it, we scrutinised her closely before we gave her a chance of seeing us. i saw at once that she was a complete stranger to me. madame gabrielle did not know her, and luigi, with his faultless memory for faces, declared positively that she had never entered any hotel at which he had been engaged. "a new hand, in all probability," i thought, "but none the less dangerous on that ground if she knows her business." madame bohman was a tall, handsome, fair-haired woman of decidedly distinguished appearance, and, from the scraps of her conversation which we overheard, evidently well educated and well connected. she had the blue eyes and fair hair of the typical swede, but blue eyes and fair hair are not exactly unknown in germany, and, though there was no ostensible reason for it, i found myself wondering whether she was exactly what she professed to be. but the german spy bureau works with any tools that come handy, and, even though madame bohman were the pure-blooded swede she professed to be, there was still no reason why she should not be an enemy agent as well. more than one swedish "neutral" has been detected in that category and paid the penalty! chapter fifteen. the real mr engstrom. three days after madame bohman's arrival, a special messenger brought me from hecq in paris three reports which, when i had read them, reduced me to a condition of blank despair. the first was from the french consul-general at stockholm, who had been instructed to make the closest possible inquiry into the _bona fides_ of the shipbuilding and engineering firm of engstrom and linner, of malmo. his report stated that he had paid a visit to malmo, and as the result of his investigations there and elsewhere he had not the least doubt that they were a first-class firm, and it was a fact of considerable interest that they were employed by the swedish government upon several important contracts. no reason whatever could be suggested for doubting their sterling integrity, and the partners had never shown the slightest trace of pro-german bias, either as a firm or individually. this seemed a complete check to our suspicions. the second report was from aubert, whom i had left in lisbon. dated from the palace hotel, it read: "i have kept constant observation upon the individual, mr thornton, but, with the exception of the fact that he is acquainted with halbmayr, of the koniggratzer-strasse--which, after all, may be quite innocent--i see no reason to suspect him of hostile intent. he has telegraphed several times to lucerne, addressing his messages to the name of syberg at the _poste restante_. you could probably secure sight of one of these; i cannot at this end. he was visited a fortnight ago by a swedish lady named bohman. the latter may be a travelling agent of the enemy, but somehow, after a close vigilance, i feel doubtful. when thornton leaves i shall advise you. it will be best for garcia to follow, as they have not met, and he is here for that purpose." the third report was from a certain very alert english business man named charles johnson-meads, who had offices in fenchurch street, london. it was johnson-meads who, by a curious statement he made to me one evening, in my rooms in curzon street, london, had first aroused my suspicions that a deep plot, in which engstrom and thornton were somehow implicated, was on foot. johnson-meads' report read: "i have strained every effort to learn more of these people and their mysterious movements in london. contrary to my belief, i have now established the fact that engstrom is, after all, the well-known swedish engineer, and not the fraud i believed him to be." this, of course, appeared to be tolerably conclusive, and i was inclined to throw up the whole business at once and return to paris, where other work urgently awaited my attention. it was clear enough from the report of the french consul-general at stockholm that engstrom and linner would not lend their name to any shady proceedings, while johnson-meads' apparent certainty that engstrom was really what he professed to be seemed to cut away the principal basis of suspicion. half an hour later i met madame gabrielle and luigi in the same private room and showed them the three reports, which were as disappointing to them as they were to me. of madame bohman, gabrielle had failed to discover anything which could give reasonable grounds for suspicion. according to her own statement--for the resourceful madame gabrielle had speedily scraped up an hotel acquaintance with her--madame bohman and engstrom were old friends, having known each other for years in stockholm. moreover, it was evident that madame bohman at least knew stockholm well, for madame gabrielle was intimately acquainted with that city, and had no difficulty, by means of apparently artless conversation, in testing the accuracy of madame bohman's knowledge. to all intents and purposes we seemed to be on a wild-goose chase, and i expressed this view. "there is nothing in it," was my verdict. "i think the best thing we can do is to give up wasting our time and get back to paris at once. you know there is the morny affair waiting for me, and hecq is anxious i should take it in hand without delay." "the morny affair" was one of those queer financial scandals which have been so rife in paris during the war. a frenchman, hitherto of unblemished reputation as a patriot, had suddenly come under suspicion of trafficking with the enemy. questions and rumours had been flying thickly in the paris press, as well as in the chamber, and it was urgently important that the unfortunate mr morny--for i, at least, believed he was being slandered by a group of business rivals and political enemies--should be cleared once and for all of suspicions which were rapidly reducing him to a state of complete prostration. how, later, i succeeded in completely vindicating his character, i hope to tell at some future time--at present a full disclosure of the facts might do untold harm. but madame gabrielle, her feminine intuition busily at work, was not to be easily put off. she strongly dissented from my view. "yesterday," she said, "during madame bohman's absence with engstrom at brunner, i took luigi's master-key, and, entering her room, opened her dressing-case and thoroughly searched her papers. it is true i found nothing of interest, save that there were letters from certain friends in london, the addresses of which i have copied. and i found this!" "this" was a blank sheet of notepaper, which she produced, bearing the heading of the palace hotel at lisbon. "you see," she said, "it has been very carefully preserved, for it was enclosed in these two envelopes. i wonder why?" i took the blank paper from her and examined it carefully. i found it to be the ordinary hotel notepaper, exactly similar to that which i myself had used in the hotel writing-room, during my recent visit to the portuguese capital. "well," i said, "i don't see how that proves, or even suggests, anything. we know perfectly well that madame bohman has been to lisbon--she herself makes no secret whatever of the fact, and she may very well have brought away by accident a sheet of the hotel notepaper and a couple of envelopes. it is true she seems friendly with both men, and there is undoubtedly some suspicion. but is it sufficient to justify action on our part, or even to give us good reason for staying here and devoting to a very trivial matter valuable time which at the moment we might be spending to much greater advantage in paris?" luigi raised his dark eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. it was obvious that he was entirely of my way of thinking, and, though he was willing to do anything to help me and to put a spoke in the wheel of the hun plotters--for, like all patriotic italians, he cherished the liveliest hatred for the austro-germans--he was no fonder than i am myself of the profitless task of chasing a will-o'-the-wisp. but the merry, go-ahead little frenchwoman had her suspicions very thoroughly aroused, and i knew well that when this was the case it was not an easy task to allay them. "i do not care, _mon cher_ gerald! there is evil work in progress, somewhere; i am confident. why should thornton be acquainted or have anything to do with our arch-enemy, ernst halbmayr? remember how cleverly he escaped you six months ago in rotterdam!" "but we trapped the woman," i rejoined grimly. "and there was a firing party at versailles." "and there is somebody to be trapped here also," persisted madame gabrielle. "you will surely not give up yet?" while we were still discussing the matter a page-boy brought a telegram. luigi took it from the lad and, dismissing him, handed the message to me. it was from aubert in lisbon, and it conveyed the significant news that this man thornton had left for lucerne, and that garcia was travelling by the same train. "he has just sent a telegram to syberg at the _poste restante_," the message concluded. after this, of course, there could be no question of our abandoning our task. there was evidently something afoot, and just as evidently lucerne was likely to be the scene of some lively incidents. luigi did not lose a second. he rang the bell, and immediately another page-boy appeared. "go at once to the _poste restante_," he said, "and ask for a telegram for syberg. they know you come from me, so there will be no need of a letter. don't forget the name--s-y-b-e-r-g. and make haste." the boy disappeared instantly, and for a quarter of an hour we waited in feverish impatience for his return. when he came back he brought with him the message we wanted. opening it, i read in french, as follows: to syberg, poste restante, lucerne. "received good news from london. meads" (_the man in london whose suspicions had been aroused_) "is now with us, so business can proceed. leaving for lucerne to-night. shall see t. in paris to arrange further details and transit of machinery. thyra" (_the christian name of madame bohman_) "will meet e.h." (_was this ernst halbmayr_?) "at geneva on the th." this message was unsigned, but it confirmed the impression given us by aubert's wire that events were on foot, and at once the three of us plunged with renewed energy into our plan of campaign. "there can be no doubt," i said, "that `e.h.' refers to halbmayr, and probably he is directing the whole of the intricate affair." "very likely," said luigi dryly, "but i do not see that we have much more light on what direction against the british the conspirators, if they really are german agents, intend to work." "true, but that is just what we have to find out," i replied. "from what johnson-meads states, the plot in some way relates to the british submarines. at present i am just as much in the dark as you are. if halbmayr is directing operations you may depend upon it that some really serious coup is intended, for halbmayr never troubles his head about the small affairs. don't forget that next to steinhauer he is the man the koniggratzer-strasse puts most implicit faith in." events were now moving rapidly. i waited with anxiety for the arrival of the man thornton, whom i had never seen, for i was particularly anxious to have a look at him. i suspected very strongly that he was one of the german secret service men masquerading under an assumed name, and i was therefore particularly anxious for an opportunity of identifying him. i argued with myself that if he was mixed up with anything big enough to call for the co-operation of halbmayr he must be one of the "big" men himself, and it was quite possible i might be able to identify him, for personally or through photographs i was well acquainted with most of the leaders of german espionage work. thornton at length reached the waldesruhe, where he was greeted by the urbane luigi with all the evidence of distinguished consideration which made the suave italian so popular with his many patrons. thornton would have passed for an englishman anywhere, both in looks and language. he was perfectly dressed in clothes unmistakably british in cut, and spoke the language to perfection. this, however, was hardly surprising, for, as we learned afterwards, he had lived in london ever since he was fourteen. he had, however, been brought up in circles which were virulently anti-british, and had absorbed to the fullest extent that poisonous hatred of everything english which so frequently displays itself in the hun who has made england his home of convenience. he little suspected that the smiling luigi, who so assiduously attended to his comforts, was one of the secret agents of the allies; that another, in the person of myself, saw his arrival, or that in the turret of the great hotel there was a small secret room containing a powerful wireless set, which i sometimes operated myself. i had to be very careful not to be seen by thornton, for it was quite possible, if my suspicions were well founded, that he might know me. and it was well that i did, for i recognised him instantly as emil brahe, a german agent of whom we had lost sight for some time. he had formerly been engaged on the continent and was well known to our men, though of late years he seemed to have dropped out of active work, and we had lost sight of him altogether. i realised now that we had been cleverly tricked: we had believed him to belong to the berlin branch, while all the time he was living quietly in england, where he did no "business" whatever, and was thus never suspected even by the astute men of the special branch. we had relied much on madame gabrielle's powers to extract information from madame bohman, with whom she was already on excellent terms. the pair often sat chatting in the lounge, smoking each other's cigarettes, and i knew the fair gabrielle was keenly on the alert for any slip by which madame bohman might "give herself away." the swedish woman, however, was far too clever and would betray nothing. shadowing thornton, or brahe, to give him his right name, was manuel garcia, a capable ex-detective of the lisbon police, who was now an agent of the central bureau of counter-espionage in paris. that telegrams were constantly passing between the swedish engineer and some people in lyons and marseilles i knew, and, indeed, i was able to secure copies of some of them. in this way i discovered that these swedes were on very friendly terms with a banker named heurteau, who had carried on business in paris before the war, had afterwards escaped to zurich, and had long been suspected of being one of the paymasters of the spy bureau in berlin. on the morning of the thirteenth, in consequence of what madame gabrielle had told me, i took train to geneva, where i put up at the national. manuel garcia followed by the next train, and early next morning i received a telephone message from madame gabrielle telling me that madame bohman had left the waldesruhe and was due at geneva at four o'clock that afternoon. as a result of this message garcia and i watched the incoming train, and my assistant followed madame bohman in a taxi to a small hotel in the quai de mont blanc. an hour later garcia himself took a cab to the hotel so as to watch for the arrival of halbmayr, the real antagonist with whom our duel was being fought out. halbmayr, a short, stout, bald-headed man, with perfect manners and the air of a _bon viveur_, kept his appointment punctually, arriving from bale the next day about noon. as he knew me well, i was compelled to remain in hiding, but from my window i was able, with a pair of good field-glasses, to watch madame bohman and the german walking together on the promenade du lac, evidently engaged in the closest conversation. garcia, of course, was not far away. the pair remained together for an hour and a half, and i noticed with amusement that the wily halbmayr took particular care to select a seat which stood quite in the open, with no shelter of any kind at hand behind which an eavesdropper might lurk. garcia was thus, of course, effectually kept at a distance, and had no opportunity of gleaning anything from our enemies' conversation. apparently the two, in the course of their earnest conversation, arrived at some definite agreement, for when they at length rose and parted, halbmayr returned direct to the station, where he had left his luggage in the cloak-room, while the swedish woman went back to her hotel, leaving for lucerne an hour later. by the next train i also travelled with garcia to lucerne. immediately on our arrival we all had a consultation, and we were deep in talk when i received a startling message from hecq in paris. it had been sent to him by johnson-meads, who had promised to communicate with me through hecq if any further suspicious matter came under his notice. the message read: "cancel my last message; most urgent i should see you immediately." now johnson-meads' last message had reported him as being assured of the _bona fides_ of engstrom. the "cancellation" of that could only mean one thing--that the engstrom we knew was a fraud, and that for some sinister purpose he was trading on the good name of a perfectly reputable firm of engineers in sweden. an hour later i was on my way to london. i arrived there without incident, and for an hour sat with mr johnson-meads in his office in fenchurch street. "i am afraid you will think me criminally careless, mr sant," he said, "in the matter of my assurance that the man you know as engstrom was what he professed to be. but i was deceived by a curious coincidence, and can only offer as an excuse that i have not had your training in solving problems of this kind. "you will remember what i told you when i met you in curzon street? well, that remains true. where i went wrong was in identifying engstrom with the head of the swedish firm. "it so happened that i have business friends in malmo, and, after our conversation, being still very suspicious, i wrote to them asking for information about engstrom and linner. i soon received a reply, which was in every way satisfactory, and my correspondent mentioned, quite casually, that mr engstrom was actually in london and was staying at the hotel cecil. as i had that very day seen the man we now know as engstrom, that seemed to me to clinch the matter, and perhaps foolishly, i dropped all suspicion. "now for the curious coincidence. a few days ago i was going home by train about six o'clock. the trains, of course, were packed, and i was `strap-hanging.' we had just left king's cross when, owing to steam in the tunnel, our train ran with considerable violence into a train which was standing in the tunnel. "the smash was not serious, but the shock was severe, and i was thrown right on top of a gentleman sitting on a seat close by me. a metal dispatch case he was carrying caught my face and, as you will see, cut it very badly. i was stunned for a moment, and when i came round i found the stranger holding me up. he tied a handkerchief round my face, and very kindly helped me out of the train to a hotel, where he got me some brandy, and i soon recovered. "he had to go on, and as we were about to part he handed me his card. i slipped it into my pocket without looking at it, and went home, very much shaken. it was not until two days later that i looked at it. it read: "engstrom and linner, stockholm. oscar engstrom. "now, mr sant," he went on, "_the mr engstrom who helped me was not the man we both know as engstrom_! he did not resemble him in the slightest degree. i immediately tried to find mr engstrom, but found to my dismay that he had left the hotel cecil and no one knew where he had gone. he was on a holiday tour, and when he tears a few days from business he frequently disappears altogether for a week, in order to get a complete rest from business cares. i have wired malmo, and all they can tell me is that he will not be back for ten days. now what can we do?" i thought deeply for a few moments. obviously i must see the real mr engstrom as soon as possible. but there was no chance of finding him immediately, and in the meantime much might happen. i soon made up my mind. "i shall return to lucerne at once," i said, "and go from there to stockholm in time to meet mr engstrom on his arrival. there is nothing else to be done." two days later i was back in lucerne. "engstrom," his friend thornton, and madame bohman were still there, busy on their plot, whatever it was, and entirely unsuspicious either of the urbane hotel manager or the pretty little frenchwoman who had apparently developed a lively affection for the handsome swedish woman. one day i learned from luigi that, in the course of a couple of hours, engstrom had received three telegrams, and had sent a reply to each of them. of their purport luigi could gain no knowledge. now, i was particularly anxious to get a sight of those telegrams, for obviously they might throw a good deal of light on the business on which engstrom was engaged. i laid my plans accordingly. that same afternoon, with luigi's assistance, i managed to transform myself into a passable imitation of a very unkempt and dirty mechanic, and as soon as the swedish engineer left the hotel, about half-past five--it was his usual habit to go out to take an _aperitif_--i took luigi's master-key, which unlocked all the doors in the hotel, and crept noiselessly to engstrom's room. i was soon inside, and a few minutes later, with the aid of my own skeleton keys, had opened the big leather travelling trunk, and was hastily examining its contents. a number of telegrams had been hastily thrust into the trunk. i had grasped my prize and was just about to shut and relock the trunk, when i heard a sound behind me, and, turning, found myself face to face with oscar engstrom himself. and not only that, but i was looking straight into the barrel of a very serviceable-looking automatic pistol, held without a tremor in engstrom's very capable hands! chapter sixteen. in a tight corner. i was caught red-handed--caught as neatly as any _bona-fide_ burglar who ever picked a lock! i had opened the trunk of a fellow visitor with a skeleton key; i had been caught in the very act of pilfering the contents. indeed, at that very moment i held in my left hand a tiny leather box containing engstrom's diamond tie-pin and studs, while with my right hand i had been delving into his big trunk. never was a capture neater or more complete. and, with the menace of the big revolver in engstrom's hand, and knowing something of my captor, i knew better than to attempt a rush for escape. i should never have reached the door alive! "well, and what does this mean?" harshly demanded the swedish engineer, in bad french, still covering me with his pistol. "and who are you?" had engstrom suspected who i really was, i knew he would have shot me out of hand and chanced all consequences: indeed, he would have had little to fear, for there would have been nothing more than a casual inquiry into the shooting of a thief caught red-handed. moreover, dead men tell no tales, and engstrom would have had no difficulty whatever in excusing himself by some hastily concocted story that i had attacked him as soon as he found me plundering his trunk. my disguise saved me, and it was evident he had no suspicion that i was anything but a common thief. i broke instantly into a torrent of excuses, putting down the little jewel box and the papers with as guilty an air as i could assume. the situation obviously required both tact and cunning, for i realised that i was in a tight corner and that a slip would cost me my life. i pleaded desperate poverty; i was an honest workman driven to evil courses by want; i am afraid i even invented a story of a wholly mythical wife and family in the last stage of starvation. finally, i roundly promised amendment of my ways if he would but let me go. "forgive me this time," i implored. "do forgive me--this will ruin me." "you dog of a thief, i have caught you stealing from my room," was his only reply. "i shall call the manager," and he slammed the door and pressed the electric bell. "send the manager here at once," he commanded the messenger who answered the bell. luigi came immediately, and there was a great scene in which my friend very cleverly worked himself into a state of virtuous indignation at the slur i had cast upon his hotel's high reputation. he assured engstrom that justice should be done forthwith, and actually handed me over to a police officer, and i was at once marched off as a common hotel thief. guess my surprise when, as soon as we had turned the first corner, the officer whispered: "monsieur battini has told me all the circumstances. he did not telephone to the bureau, but called me in out of the street. dash away from me in a few moments when we come to a lonely place, and i will merely pretend to follow you. but, monsieur, get away from lucerne as quickly as possible." i smiled: luigi had shown that he possessed a quick and ready resourcefulness. it was most fortunate that engstrom, finding me with my skeleton keys on the floor, and his jewellery in my hand, had failed to suspect the truth. i slipped away at the first convenient corner, and an hour later was well on my way by the st gothard route to milan, the excellent police officer undertaking to let luigi know whither i had gone. i learned later that, when my "escape" was reported to him, engstrom took the matter very quietly, and, beyond roundly abusing the officer for letting me slip through his fingers, did not propose any further action. as a matter of fact, having lost nothing, he was probably well content that the affair should end thus. i have no doubt that, masquerading in the name of another man, publicity was the last thing he would desire. our problem now was how to deal with engstrom and his associates. obviously to arrest them, even if we had good ground for doing so, would have been to defeat our own object, for we wanted to find out all the details of the plot upon which they were engaged. but, as a matter of fact, they had done nothing up to this moment to bring themselves within the clutches of the law. engstrom, it is true, was posing as someone else, but, so long as he did not attempt to profit by it, this was not a criminal offence. i decided to continue our investigations. reaching milan, i put up at the cavour, where, of course, i was well known. a few hours later i received a long dispatch in cipher from madame gabrielle, and two days later an explicit letter from luigi. i was also able to secure some further information regarding the mysterious engineer and his friends, and this decided me to go to sweden myself and see the real mr engstrom. my journey to malmo was uneventful, and, arriving there, i lost no time in repairing to the yard of messrs. engstrom and linner, the engineers. there, in the private office of the head of the firm, i soon found myself face to face with the principal, mr oscar engstrom. he was a short, dark, alert little man, with charming manners, and i took a liking to him at once. i had not previously decided on my course of action, but after a few minutes' conversation i decided on a policy of complete frankness. as rapidly as possible, i told him the full story of the man who had been using his name in london and on the continent. at first he expressed himself as completely puzzled. he could not, he said, imagine what the object of the gang could be. they could hardly commit the firm to anything which would profit themselves, for no one abroad would act without inquiries. at length i happened to mention that johnson-meads had told me that the man had for disposal something connected with submarines. "with submarines!" he exclaimed in obvious surprise. "why, we have in hand at this moment several submarine inventions, of which we own the patents. two of them are completely secret, and they are in use only by france and britain." this put a new aspect on the affair. "i begin to see now," i said, "why your name has been assumed. have you heard of any attempt to secure the submarine secrets?" "none whatever," replied mr engstrom. "moreover, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible. one of the appliances with which we are concerned is of such importance that, while we make the greater part of it, a vital portion is manufactured in england, and the apparatus is not put together until the whole is actually on the submarine for which it is intended. consequently, unless a thief or spy secured copies of the plans both here and in england he would be powerless to profit by either. i may mention that this arrangement was arrived at with the british admiralty at our express wish and suggestion. i am quite frank with you, mr sant." "one more question, mr engstrom," i added. "you are in a position to know of any important inventions in connection with submarine work. have you heard of any recent invention which would bring it within the bounds of possibility that your double is acting honestly and has really something to sell?" "that is out of the question," returned the engineer decidedly. "unless the invention were german, in which case it would not come out of that country, i think i should certainly have heard something of it. of course, we have rivals in our business, but there is a certain amount of freemasonry even among business rivals. i know all the people who are making submarine parts--there are very few who could or would tackle a big invention. besides, if the man has an honest bargain to drive, why should he assume my name?" this argument was unanswerable. but i confess i was still a long way from guessing just what the bogus engstrom and his friends were plotting. my next visit was to the swedish police in search of information about madame bohman. here, however, i was quite at fault. it was evident she was passing under an assumed name, and i could not succeed in identifying her among the long array of photographs of known german agents laid before me by the chief of the swedish secret police. arriving at bergen, i received, before i sailed for england, a long telegram from madame gabrielle, telling me that engstrom, madame bohman, and thornton had left for paris. fearing that they would immediately recognise her if she followed them, she had telephoned the news to hecq, and that astute official had promised to take the suspects under his own wing for the immediate future, pending my arrival. i proceeded to london, where, to my dismay, i learned that, although madame bohman had arrived in paris with thornton, engstrom was missing. twenty minutes later i was speaking with hecq at st germain over the official telephone. three days later i heard that hecq's men had succeeded in running the elusive engstrom to earth at marseilles, where he was staying at the hotel louvre et paix under the name of jansen, and was constantly meeting a compatriot named tegelmund. the situation at this moment remained a complete puzzle so far as the real objective of the gang was concerned. on the one hand, we had at marseilles the mysterious individual who posed as the swedish engineer, engstrom. on the other, we had his known associates, thornton and madame bohman, in paris. engstrom was living quite openly, with no appearance of concealment, at a good hotel, but he was quite obviously doing nothing and meeting nobody. the other two, however, were just as obviously lying low. they had taken apartments at a very small and not very reputable hotel in the rue royale, and both had changed their names, entering france with new and apparently perfectly genuine swedish passports, issued only a few weeks previously. our next discovery was a staggering surprise. one of our agents, who had been watching madame bohman, came in and reported that, late the previous night, she had left her hotel and walked swiftly to an obscure cafe in the quartier latin. she had entered the place, taken a seat at a table by herself, and called for a glass of wine. while she was drinking it, a man, very untidy and apparently half intoxicated, lurched up to the table and sat down facing her. she took no notice of him whatever, or he of her. calling a waiter, the man ordered a double glass of chianti. our agent, seated at an adjoining table, saw her then glance quickly at the stranger, and a moment later she ordered an absinthe. now, an order for a double glass of chianti is unusual, especially in a disreputable cafe in a low part of paris, and it is hardly customary for women to follow wine with absinthe. our agent was struck by the oddity of the two orders and listened closely. directly the waiter had placed the drinks on the table and left, the man, without even glancing at the woman, muttered something in an undertone which our agent could not catch. it was, however, evidently sufficient, for the woman drank up her absinthe, and, rising, left the cafe. she took no notice whatever of the man, and he paid, to all appearances, as little regard to her. apparently half overcome by drink, he remained at the table, nodding drowsily, for a quarter of an hour. it was a clever bit of acting, but he forgot his eyes! our agent caught a sight of them, and realised at once that the drunkenness was feigned. at length the man got up and lurched towards the door. the police agent at the same moment left by another exit into an adjoining street, and, casually turning the corner in the direction the supposed drunken man had taken, saw him a few yards ahead, walking steadily enough. five minutes later he had overtaken madame bohman, and, walking side by side for a few hundred yards, they had a brief conversation and parted. our agent was in a quandary. he had the strictest instructions not to lose sight of madame bohman, but he was a man of intelligence, and realised that a new factor had appeared on the scene. accordingly, he decided to follow the man, and soon saw him enter a cheap boarding-house, letting himself in with a latchkey. five minutes later we had the news, and a couple of men were at once detailed to take up the watch. madame bohman, we soon ascertained, had gone straight to her hotel. the boarding-house which the mysterious stranger had entered was closely watched all night. the next morning the man came out, and was immediately recognised as none other than halbmayr himself! how he had got into france and paris was a mystery, for the police had no register of his arrival. i may say here that this point was never completely cleared up, but it was very generally believed that he was put ashore by a submarine, and intended leaving in the same way. we now had him safely enough; he could not possibly escape. he was a known spy, and there was ample ground for arresting him. but this would have made mincemeat of our plans, as hecq saw plainly enough. "halbmayr is very dangerous," he declared to me as i sat in his office the same day. "evil work is on foot somewhere, and our friend the german is director of operations. he would not dare to show his face in france after meeting brahe in lisbon unless he were playing for a big coup. but, my dear sant, what is his motive? what is he after? to that question so far we have got no reply whatever. and we _must_ find the answer." i agreed with my chief most cordially. "give him rope," i said, "and see if he does not hang himself. at any rate, he won't escape us this time; we shall get him even if we don't learn his secret. what worries me is that he may have done his nefarious work, and inflicted untold injury on the allies before we nab him. but we must take some chances." "the telegram sent by brahe, or thornton, to engstrom just before the former left lisbon mentioned two things," said my chief. "the first was that johnson-meads was with them--in other words, that his suspicions had been allayed (which we know to be a fact)--and that `t.' was here in paris `to arrange further details and transit of machinery.' what machinery? and who is `t'? `t' must be tegelmund, the man in marseilles. we must look out for him." chapter seventeen. "the plot revealed." within a week the man tegelmund, accompanied by engstrom, arrived in paris and took up his abode in an obscure hotel near the gare du nord. but, though we kept a careful watch upon the pair, engstrom, ever elusive and resourceful, suddenly disappeared! for six days he was absent. then, as suddenly and mysteriously, he appeared again at the hotel. aubert, who had been detailed to watch tegelmund, now reported that the latter had been across to the orleans goods station, inquiring about some heavy cases of goods which had arrived from lisbon. "i have contrived to open one of the cases," he said. "it contains some complicated and apparently delicate machinery, with a small dynamo. apparently it is some sort of wireless plant, but, beyond that, i cannot make head or tail of it." at aubert's suggestion i went late one night to the orleans goods yard. aubert, by methods of persuasion not wholly original, had contrived to make friends with one of the officials, and we had no difficulty in securing access to the great goods shed, now silent and deserted, in which the mysterious cases lay. prising open one end of the topmost case, i inspected the contents as closely as i could with the aid of my pocket flash-lamp. within was what certainly appeared to be a wireless plant of some kind, but it was of a description entirely new to me, and i could not see enough of it to gain any idea of its purpose. of course we dared not risk unpacking it. but we had made a great advance. the big cases could not be secretly moved, and our friend, the goods official, undertook to let us know promptly when he received orders to release them. we waited in patience for a week, but still the cases remained untouched and uncalled for. then came an incident which threw a flood of light on the proceedings of our enemies, though it told us nothing of their real motive; we were to learn that later. one day i was strolling aimlessly along the boulevard des capucines, when i heard my name pronounced in accents of delighted surprise. turning round, i instantly recognised an old friend in the person of captain a--, who was one of the experts attached to the submarine branch of the british admiralty. "my dear sant," he exclaimed joyfully. "who would have thought of meeting you here? i am alone in paris. i know no one and am bored to death. what have you got on hand now? i thought you were in new york." "i certainly didn't expect to meet you here," i replied. "what has brought you over?" "come and have some lunch, and i'll tell you all about it," he replied, and we repaired to an adjoining cafe, where captain a--promptly ordered lunch in a private room. "we've got a new thing on hand in the submarine line," he told me as soon as the waiter had left the room. "you know we have been trying some experiments in german waters lately, and the hun destroyers have been so confoundedly active that our fellows have had to pass a lot of their time sitting on the bottom. as a consequence, some of the crew have suffered terribly for want of fresh air. we have a very good system of purifying the atmosphere, but it is not sufficient owing to the long periods the boats have to stay under water, and a number of men have collapsed and died from suffocation. indeed, one boat only escaped with more than half her crew totally incapacitated." i was keenly on the alert. was i, i wondered, coming to grips at last with our problem? "well," captain a--went on, "we have been offered a new apparatus, which, if half of what the inventor tells us is true, will enable us to give the hun a very bad time. we are assured that by its help a boat can stay under water for five days without the slightest risk." "five days!" i repeated incredulously. "why, it's impossible!" "so i thought," he rejoined, "but when engstrom and linner vouch for anything, you've got to listen." "engstrom and linner!" i gasped. things were getting "warm" indeed. "yes," he replied. "mr engstrom is in paris now with his invention, and we are going to test it off havre." then i sprang my mine. "would you be surprised to learn," i asked, as coolly as i could, "that your mr engstrom is not mr engstrom at all, but a german agent passing under his name?" i have seen a good many badly surprised men in my life, but i never witnessed before or since such a spectacle of hopeless astonishment as captain a--presented when he grasped the full significance of this announcement. he sat staring at me, his mouth wide open, and with dismay written legibly on every line of his countenance. "but, sant," he gasped. "are you sure? mr engstrom came to us in london and told us all about it. he explained that the inventor was a spaniard who would not trust the `neutrality' of the spanish government in the matter, and that he had brought his invention to engstrom's with the idea of getting the best terms from one of the allies." "i have no doubt that the man posing as engstrom came to you," i replied. "but, none the less, he is not engstrom at all." "then what is his game?" countered a--. "he has offered us the fullest test before we adopt his machine, and has not asked for a cent." "that remains to be seen," i answered, "but it bodes no good to the allies. what does he propose?" "he has offered to instal the apparatus on one of our newest types," replied a--, "and she is on her way to havre for the purpose. we are to make any test we like, and, in fact, i am here to see the test carried out. the only condition he makes is that his machinery shall be sealed, and not opened until after the test has proved it to be satisfactory." i began to see light. "did he propose to go with you?" i asked. "no," replied a--, rather ruefully, i fancied. "he said the machinery was so perfect that it would practically run itself from our electric accumulators, and that he would give us an absolutely free hand with it." "i wonder how many of you would have come back?" i said meaningly. a--swore fervently, and i saw by the gleam in his eyes that he was fully awake to the possibilities of the trap into which he had been so nearly led. our task now, barring some unforeseeable contingency, was fairly easy; there was a good prospect of ensnaring our foes in the pit they had so skilfully dug for us. "the matter is up to you now," i told a--. "i'm going to drop out till the very last minute. but i shall be with you then. it is of the utmost importance that we shall do nothing to scare these very wary birds. what is your plan?" "well," said a--, "it seems to me i had better go ahead as if nothing had happened. the arrangement is that engstrom shall take his apparatus to havre and instal it on e . we are then to put to sea for the tests, and are to meet him later and inform him of our decision." "that will do all right," i said. "i shall come on board the submarine before engstrom arrives, and then i think we shall surprise him." a--departed at once to make the final arrangements and i busied myself in sending off some telegrams arranging for the final downfall of the hun plotters. a week later i found myself on board e at havre. the mysterious cases had been sent on, and with them came engstrom, with thornton and tegelmund, who professed to be interested in the venture--the former financially, the latter as the inventor. tegelmund was in high glee at being thus afforded an opportunity of putting his device to a thoroughly satisfactory test. we also had a big surprise in the arrival of halbmayr, who arrived in havre under the name of mennier. that he should have ventured on the scene at all showed how intensely interested he was. engstrom declared that the fitting of the machinery would occupy fully three days, and we, of course, humoured him in every way possible. a-- made himself particularly agreeable, playing the part of host to perfection, and it was evident that the conspirators never even dreamed that their nefarious designs were suspected by the genial naval officer who showed such an enthusiastic interest in the wonderful stories with which they plied him on the merits of their great discovery. the three days went by. four great cases of machinery had been duly shipped on board, and engstrom, thornton, and tegelmund spent many hours daily at their work in the interior of the submarine. of course i could not appear--i should have been recognised at once--but among the crew of the submarine were a couple of the smartest men of the surete, who kept the bogus engineer and his associates under the closest scrutiny. they reported to me that engstrom appeared to be the only one of the three with any great amount of mechanical knowledge, and that, while tegelmund worked assiduously at his machine, the others spent most of their time carefully examining the details of the british vessel, in which they showed the greatest interest. i began to get at last an inkling of the plot! the fourth day dawned--the day of the _denouement_. early in the morning i slipped on board the submarine, and when the two conspirators arrived we made our coup. engstrom, when he came on board with tegelmund, found himself suddenly confronted by the commander, with a stalwart bluejacket standing on either side of him. he was curtly informed that he could not go below. "but you promised!" he shrieked, livid with vexation. "true!" said the commander. "but you call yourself oscar engstrom, of malmo, and i happen to have the real mr engstrom here." the engineer went white to the very lips as mr engstrom, who had come post-haste from stockholm in response to my urgent cable, emerged from behind the conning-tower, closely followed by myself. the false engstrom began a vehement protest, but ceased suddenly, for, glancing round, he saw tegelmund also under guard. the game was up! a few minutes later, with engstrom and tegelmund safely in irons, the admiralty experts who had come over from london began a minute examination of the wonderful "invention." they soon discovered that the cases contained a jumble of wires and odds and ends of mechanical scraps simply thrown together to look complicated, and of no value whatever for the renewal of vitiated air. the real object was only revealed when we had got to the very heart of the amazing collection of rubbish. there, cunningly hidden among much that was superfluous, was a highly efficient electric motor, wonderfully made and controlling a powerful bomb by machinery, set to detonate the explosive after six hours' running. the machinery was to have been operated by the electric batteries of the submarine, and had the e gone to sea and begun the "tests" of the bogus apparatus, not a vestige of the vessel or the crew would have been seen again, and the secret of her loss would have been locked for ever in the depths of the atlantic. but this, we found, was only a part of the plot--perhaps even the least important part. tegelmund, finding himself trapped, turned craven and revealed the whole story. the real object of the spies was to get the fullest possible details of the internal arrangements of a british submarine of the latest type, and how well they had succeeded was shown when we cast our net a little wider. directly engstrom and tegelmund were in custody, an innocent-looking signal flag flew from the masthead of the submarine, and the officials of the surete ashore made their pounce. thornton and halbmayr were seized at once at their hotel, and in their possession we found a wonderful series of drawings in which many of the secrets of the submarine were fully explained. a telegram to paris brought about also the arrest of madame bohman, and a few days later the german agents were safely immured in the convict prison at tours, where they were sent by the sentence of a court-martial summoned immediately to deal with their case. their guilt in this particular case was too clear for any possibility of denial, but i am glad to say that their arrest opened up a way to us to deal the hun secret service a blow from which it has never fully recovered. enormous piles of documents were seized and carefully examined, with the result that numerous associates of thornton in england found themselves in durance vile "for the duration," and so many fingers of the hidden hand were lopped off that the hand itself was badly crippled for many months to come. how the fingers grew and were again cut off i hope to tell at some later date. chapter eighteen. the mysterious cylinders. after over two years of strenuous work without a holiday i found myself at length free, and i found myself one morning busy in my rooms in curzon street making final arrangements for a trip to worcestershire to spend a fortnight with doris and her mother in their lovely country home. i was jaded and fagged, for i do not mind confessing that my work recently had considerably affected me, and i was looking forward with eager anticipation to the delights of a stay in the country. i had not seen doris for some months, though of course we were in constant communication, and i was naturally longing for a sight of her. but i was destined to another disappointment. just as i was finishing my packing the telephone rang. i found the call was from morgan, one of the ablest of the government experts on explosives, and he had a curious story to tell me. when i had listened to what he had to say i realised with a heavy heart that my long-promised holiday must be again postponed. i rang up doris on the telephone and, having broken the news to her, hurried off to morgan's office. i found the expert in a state of utter bewilderment. he was an acknowledged authority on explosives, but a problem had been set before him which had baffled him completely. a few days previously a mysterious explosion had occurred in some public gardens at mile end. while a keeper was clearing away a pile of rubbish he found a curious-looking metal cylinder lying in a flower-bed, and while he was examining it it exploded with a tremendous report, injuring the man so severely that he had to be taken, in a very critical condition, to the east end hospital. a search by the police had a curious result. in other flower-beds a number of similar cylinders were found. they were very tiny, being only about an inch and a half in length and about a quarter of an inch in diameter. they contained a substance which was evidently the explosive. at one end a piece of wire was attached, evidently as a means of exploding them, and at the other end was a strip of soft lead. morgan showed me some of the cylinders, and frankly confessed his ignorance of what they contained. "i thought i knew every explosive in existence," he told me, "but this is something entirely new. it must be tremendously powerful, judging by the size of the cylinders and the effect of the explosion on the unfortunate gardener who found the first one." as i held one of the small cylinders, studying it with great care, an idea came to me. "may i borrow this for a few days?" i asked. "i think i may be able to help you." "certainly," replied morgan; "but be careful. we don't even know how it is exploded." next day i was in paris, and took train to vemeuil l'etang, some thirty miles from the capital, where i called on the manager of a certain well-known factory. when i showed him the little cylinder he examined it with minute attention and carefully withdrew some of the mysterious explosive. this he placed under a microscope and a moment later said: "monsieur is undoubtedly correct! it is some of our product, herbethite, the invention of our chief director, mr herbeth, and the most powerful explosive known to modern science. none has been used in actual work yet, and the only sample that has left our factory is that which was stolen. it is a great secret." "has some been stolen, then?" i asked quickly. "yes. fortunately we discovered the thief--a workman named pasquet--and we thought we had recovered all that had been taken. evidently we were wrong and some of the stuff has got into bad hands. pasquet is awaiting trial by the assize court of the seine." i returned to paris and saw the minister of justice, to whom i made a certain proposal. not without demur, he finally agreed, and i went to the prison armed with authority for a private interview with pasquet. i met the thief in a small room in the governor's quarters of the prison. i found him to be a man of about thirty, quite obviously of the hooligan type, and i soon guessed from his conversation that he had been in the first place the tool of others, who, when they had made use of him, had abandoned him to his fate. he was naturally resentful and vindictive. i told him i had authority to offer him a free pardon, and a reward which would give him a decent start in life if he would give us the fullest information in his power. he was suspicious, however, and it was not until my promise had been confirmed by the governor of the prison himself that he consented to speak. his promise once given, he made a clean breast of everything, and his information was so startling that i could hardly credit it. possibly he saw my incredulity, for he said quietly: "monsieur will find that i am telling the truth. why should i lie? my whole life and liberty are in pawn for my veracity." i admitted that this was reasonable, and promised to, push things forward as quickly as possible. something about the man had appealed to me, and i wondered whether, after all, he might not contain the makings of a decent citizen. my first concern was to send a wire to madame gabrielle, who was in edinburgh, and the following evening she met me in my rooms in curzon street, where i unfolded the whole story to her. "of course, we are not yet on firm ground," i pointed out to her. "pasquet alleges that the real name of his friend shackleton is von schack and that he is a prussian engineer officer. "pasquet first met shackleton in london, and later on shackleton approached him at verneuil with another man, whom he introduced as norman, and they offered to buy some herbethite from him for three thousand francs. pasquet told me that he was very hard up owing to his wife's long illness--i have ascertained that this is quite true--and the temptation proved too much for him. it is only fair to him to remember that, though he looks an abandoned ruffian, he bears a good character as a husband and father, and it seems to be the fact that the only money he spent out of that which he received from shackleton and norman went to purchase necessities and delicacies for his wife. the money really seems to have saved her life. "anyhow, he stole a quantity of the herbethite, which shackleton and norman packed in golden syrup tins and took to england. when pasquet stole a second lot he was discovered, and the dangerous stuff was found at his lodgings and recovered before he could hand it over to the two men, who pretended to be english. "one fact of importance at least is established," i added, "namely, that schack formerly carried on business as a watchmaker at newcastle, and sold his business to an englishman a month before war broke out." for weeks we hunted in vain for shackleton. i visited newcastle, and found that the man to whom he sold the business had later joined the army. this meant a journey to france for me, and i had an interview with the man at a certain brigade headquarters in the somme battle area. "shackleton was undoubtedly a foreigner and i should say probably a german," the watchmaker, now a corporal, told me. "when he left he asked me to forward any letters that might come for him, and gave me the address--`care of soulsby, high street, bristol.'" with that information i went straight from the british front to the great severn port. here i found that soulsby kept a newsagent's shop near bristol bridge, to which letters could be addressed. he did a big business in this way, for the address was very handy for sea-going men. soulsby at first refused to give me the smallest information about his clients, but a sight of my authority opened his mouth, and as soon as he realised that something serious was on foot he was only too willing to help me. "of course, mr sant," he said, "you will understand i have no knowledge whatever of the man. but i know that the bristol channel ports are full of spies, and it is very generally believed that few vessels leave here unknown to the german submarines lurking about the mouth of the channel. if i can help you at all, i shall be delighted." i then learned that shackleton had called about a week before, taking away several letters addressed to him, and that he usually called at intervals of a week or ten days. soulsby promised to let me know at once as soon as he came again, and i wired to the wily aubert to come to bristol and keep observation. within three days, as i walked with my assistant along victoria street towards temple meads, he pointed out a middle-aged, keen-eyed, dark-haired man, who had little of the appearance of a teuton. he looked like a well-dressed, prosperous business man. yet it was he who had induced the unfortunate pasquet to steal the herbethite, and he was certainly engaged in some nefarious and deadly plot. for although the actual volume of the stolen explosive was not great, so tremendous was its power that the quantity in the hands of our foes was sufficient to wreak almost unimaginable havoc in half a dozen cities in england. mr herbeth had looked very grave when he learned from pasquet through me that the amount stolen was enough to fill two of the small cans used to hold golden syrup--about a pint and a half altogether. "i hope monsieur will trace it in time," he said earnestly. "there is enough of it in their possession to destroy half london." we soon found out that shackleton was living in furnished rooms at clifton and had one close friend, who, after some difficulty, we proved to be his accomplice norman. one morning aubert arrived at my hotel and reported that the pair had gone to the station and taken tickets for london. at once i advised madame gabrielle by telephone to be on the platform at paddington and watch them wherever they went. i myself took the next train to london, and, driving to curzon street, awaited her report. but although i sat up until after two o'clock the next morning, she did not arrive and i received no word from her! what contretemps had occurred? i was seriously uneasy, for i had impressed upon her the vitally important nature of our task, and if she failed or met with any mishap we should be in a serious predicament, for we had no trace whatever of any of shackleton's associations in london, and anything might happen before we could run him to earth again among the teeming millions of the metropolis, the safest hiding-place on earth. it was not until six o'clock the next evening that i received, by express messenger, a hastily scrawled note in which madame gabrielle said: "be extremely careful! they have discovered me, and i am being watched, so cannot come near you. great things are in progress. get someone to watch shackleton, who is at the address below. some great plot is in progress--that is certain.--g." without a moment's delay, i slipped round to whitehall, and very soon an expert watcher was at the address given by madame. twelve hours later, i was filled with dismay by a telephone message which told me that neither shackleton nor norman had been to the address given. they had both disappeared! chapter nineteen. spy's letter deciphered. back in curzon street, completely at a loss, i flung myself into a big arm-chair, and over a succession of pipes tried to piece our disconnected facts into a consecutive whole. shackleton, or schack, had moved from newcastle to bristol before the war, and i had little doubt that he had done so by express orders from the koniggratzer-strasse. from this i argued mentally that bristol would almost certainly be the seat of his main activities, and that his early return thither might be looked for with some degree of confidence. added to this, we knew from the frank declaration of a high port official that the bristol channel towns were swarming with spies, and i felt little doubt that they were acting under schack's direction. on the whole, now that we had apparently lost the two men in london, bristol seemed the most promising base for our operations. i decided therefore to return, and, leaving madame at the grosvenor in london, i took aubert with me, together with an english secret agent whom i will call moore. moore took lodgings opposite shackleton's house in bristol and at once opened an unwinking vigilance over the place. for a fortnight, however, there was no sign. in the meantime two letters arrived, addressed to shackleton, at soulsby's. these were opened by the authorities, photographed, and, after being resealed, were delivered in the ordinary way. in one of the letters, which had been posted in london and purported to be an ordinary business transaction, was the statement: "we are having great difficulty with our clients johnson and phillips, so we have placed the matter in the hands of our solicitors for advice." this letter ostensibly came from a firm of estate agents in the harrow road. i made an immediate inquiry, and was not altogether surprised to learn that no such a firm existed. in the meantime i studied the letter on the assumption that it contained a spy cipher, and after some hours' work succeeded in extracting from its apparently innocent contents the following startling message: "_angorania_ will convey troops from montreal on th proximo." this set me at work with furious speed. an inquiry at the port offices showed me that the great liner was at the moment lying at avonmouth, and that she would sail for montreal a week later in order to bring over several thousand canadian troops. shackleton now made what was to me, i confess, a very welcome return to the scene. i had been seriously perturbed by the fear that we had lost him. while he was under my own immediate observation i felt capable of checkmating his designs, but the knowledge that an able enemy agent was at large and uncontrolled, with enough herbethite in his possession to create an appalling disaster, worried me more than i can tell. shackleton appeared on the scene the day after the delivery of the letter we had intercepted and photographed. where he had been in the interval we never learned, but he did not arrive in bristol from london; that was certain, for every train, day and night, was closely watched. evidently the letter meant a good deal to him. he went at once to avonmouth, closely followed by moore. to our intense surprise, he seemed very well known at the docks and was freely admitted everywhere. he walked along the quays for some time, and we noted his obvious interest in the _angorania_, now busily getting ready for her coming trip. we learned later that shackleton had very cleverly wound himself into the confidence of a local shipping agent, and by this means had secured such frequent admission to the docks that his presence there was accepted almost as a matter of course. i now began to feel practically certain that the _angorania_ was the object of the conspirators, and that the herbethite was the means to be adopted to bring about her destruction. but how? madame gabrielle was to solve the question for us. the great liner was timed to leave at six o'clock, and an hour earlier the boat-train had arrived from london, bringing an unusually large assembly of passengers. these included several government officials on their way to canada, a number of highly placed military officers, and the members of two or three important war commissions. some time after the arrival of the train, a shabbily-dressed woman in a battered old hat pushed rudely against me. i turned, and to my amazement recognised madame gabrielle. she was obviously almost at the end of her strength, pallid with fatigue, and with deep circles round her eyes which spoke eloquently of exhaustion. she made me a sign to follow her and slipped away from the crowd, which was hastening to the gangway. directly we reached a quiet space, she gasped out: "norman has booked cabin number on the _angorania_, in the name of nash. i followed him to the shipping office and overheard." a moment later she fainted and fell heavily into my arms. i carried her at once to a waiting-room, and, handing her over without ceremony to the woman in charge, dashed at top speed for the quay where the _angorania_ was lying, now almost ready for departure. not even for the sake of madame gabrielle would i venture a moment's delay. the "last bells" were ringing for the steamer's departure as i rushed on to the quay. as i neared the gangway i saw, to my utter amazement, the man norman stroll leisurely from the ship with the very last of the people who had been on board for the customary farewells. evidently he was not going by the vessel at all. a moment later the gangways were withdrawn and the big liner moved away. norman remained on the quay with the crowd, idly waving a real or pretended farewell to some supposed friend on the crowded decks. i have cursed myself for my stupidity many times since, and even now i shudder at the thought of how nearly the dastardly plot against the liner came to success. the vessel was well under way when the idea flashed into my mind: "he has left the explosive on board!" how i failed to divine this earlier i cannot imagine. i suppose norman's return from the ship threw me temporarily off my guard. but, in any case, there was not a second to be lost. the _angorania_, heading down channel, was gathering speed every moment, bearing somewhere on board enough explosives to sink her in ten seconds with the loss of hundreds of precious lives. boldness was the only course possible. i called a couple of dock police, and, showing them my authority, instructed them to arrest norman at once. before the spy could recover from his surprise, he was safely in custody and relieved of an extremely efficient automatic pistol. and now for the _angorania_. i rushed to the "competent military authority," and briefly laid the facts before a veteran colonel, in whom a life of splendid service to the empire had bred a capacity for swift decision and prompt action. "she won't go far, mr sant," he said cheerily, as he picked up the telephone. a moment later i caught the crackle of wireless, and to my relief read the message: "to q.q." (the _angorania's_ code letters). "heave to immediately and await instructions.--port commandant." a few minutes later a clerk brought in the _angorania's_ acknowledgment. a quarter of an hour after i was aboard a british destroyer, which tore out into the channel, and at thirty-five knots was flying along in the wake of the _angorania_. we soon overhauled the big liner, and as we neared her could see the crowded passengers, evidently puzzled at the unexpected stoppage. as soon as i got on board, i accompanied the captain to his private cabin and told him the facts. sending for the purser, he ordered him to bring on deck at once all the luggage which had come on board in the name of nash. "and carry it carefully," he added, as he told the purser what it contained. by great good fortune, there was only one big trunk in the hold, and it was readily accessible. the rest of nash's luggage was in his cabin. we soon had the lot on board the destroyer, where the torpedo officer rapidly overhauled it. in the big trunk, resting quite unconcealed on the top of a pile of clothes, were two tin canisters labelled "golden syrup." i could not repress a shudder. "i think this is what we want," said the torpedo officer grimly, as he carefully picked up the dangerous canisters. and then he did a brave thing. "if you don't mind, sir," he said to the captain, "i will take them out in a boat and examine them myself." the captain nodded silently, and a few minutes later the ship's dinghy dropped over the side. the torpedo officer took his seat and rowed away alone, the canisters on the after-thwart winking in the blazing sunshine. he was literally taking his life in his hands. we could not let the liner go until we were sure we had got what we wanted, and no one could be sure that the mere lifting of the canister lids would not explode the terrible compound they contained. half a mile away from the ship the rowing-boat came to a stop. through our glasses we saw the torpedo officer deliberately pick up the canisters and without hesitation prise up the patent lids. a moment later he waved to us, and at once commenced to row back to the ship. "all right, let her go; i've got the stuff," he shouted, as soon as he was within earshot, and a tremendous cheer went up from the crew, who in the mysterious "wireless" of the sea had learned what was afoot. a signal fluttered from the bridge of the destroyer. the _angorania_ dipped her pennant in acknowledgment, and soon the great liner was hurling herself through the sea on her interrupted journey. the rest of the story is soon told. the herbethite, we found, was covered with a thin layer of sweets, and at the customs examination of luggage nash had boldly lifted the lids and coolly showed the sweets to the officer. it was done so naturally as to defy any possible suspicion. but in the bottoms of the tins we found two exquisitely made detonators, fashioned in the shape of watches, and timed so as to explode the herbethite some twelve hours after the time fixed for the departure of the ship. these removed, the tins could be handled with comparative safety. we made a clean sweep of the conspirators. no details were ever given to the public, and the stoppage of the big liner was easily explained away to the passengers. we found out that the small cylinder picked up at mile end had been intended for the purpose of blowing up a munitions train in an important tunnel outside london, but the conspirators found the approaches too closely guarded and gave up the project. they were all sent to paris for trial on a charge of stealing herbethite, and were eventually sentenced by court-martial to fifteen years' imprisonment. madame gabrielle, i am glad to say, received a handsome reward from the british government, for our success was entirely due to her. she had followed norman without food or rest or sleep for nearly three days, and was in the last extremity of fatigue when she gave me her final and all-important message. pasquet, i am glad to say, justified the impression i had formed of him, and i had the satisfaction of seeing him develop into a respectable member of society, happy in the society of his wife, now fully restored to health, and again enjoying the confidence of his employers. we were able, through him, to account for all the stolen herbethite, and it was a relief to know that none of the terrible compound remained in the hands of our enemies. chapter twenty. a message from the herrengasse. i have here put into narrative form a number of astonishing facts taken from information read and testimony given at the court-martial subsequently held upon the guilty parties. the facts which i assisted in establishing will, i believe, be found of considerable interest to readers as further revealing the subtle methods of the enemy. for obvious reasons i have been compelled to disguise certain names so as not to bring eternal dishonour upon a great and noble family. "and if i revealed the truth to your dear affectionate husband?" whispered the soft-voiced, well-dressed italian. "what then--eh, elena?" "_madonna mia_! no," cried the dark-haired, handsome young woman, who sat at her tea-table in a great, elegantly furnished salon in one of those old fourteenth-century _palazzi_ close to the port of sarzana, the italian naval station on the adriatic. it was a bright afternoon in the summer of ; sarzana, the old city in ferrara, to which i had gone with madame gabrielle, a lazy, sun-blanched place, with its white houses and green sun-shutters, had of late been electrified into naval activity against those hated tedeschi, those austrians which every italian had been taught to hate at his mother's knee. things were going well with italy. on that day the _corriere_ had published a long dispatch from general cadorna, reporting a smashing defeat of the austrians in the alps, and an advance in the direction of trieste. the whole kingdom of italy, from ravenna to reggio, was in a state of highest enthusiasm, and in sarzana the excited populace were agog in the cafes and in the narrow, old-world streets. that most elegant fourteenth-century salon, with its faded tapestries and fine old portraits, in which the woman was seated with her visitor, was the same great room in which the doge francesco bissolo, of venice, assembled the famous council of ten, when they consulted with malatesta after the battle of padua in . the bissolo palace, the dark, almost prison-like walls of which rose sheer from the canal within a stone's throw of the great naval dockyard, had little changed through five centuries. its exterior was grim and forbidding, with windows barred with iron, its massive doors, which opened upon the narrow mediaeval street, heavily studded with nails and strengthened with iron. within, however, while most of its antique charm had been preserved, it was the acme of luxury and taste, containing many priceless works of art, magnificent tapestries, and the famous collection of ancient arms belonging to its present owner, the marchese guilio michelozzo-alfani, whose pretty young wife was that afternoon giving tea to a visitor. "no!" the woman exclaimed, in a low, intense whisper. "no, carlo, you would never do that. i know that once i treated you badly, and i was your enemy then. but that is long ago. to-day i am your friend. guilio must never know the truth. in his position as admiral of the port it would mean ruin for him if the truth were revealed that i am an austrian, and hence an enemy." "yes. i agree that it would be very awkward for you, my dear elena, if the truth ever leaked out," remarked the thin, sallow-faced, middle-aged man, as he sipped the cup of tea, in english fashion, which she had handed him. about his lips was a strange hardness, even though his friendship was so apparent. "but you alone know, my dear carlo, and you will never give me away. we were old friends in budapest--ah! i wish to forget those days--before i married guilio," she remarked softly, with a bitter smile. "my dear elena, don't think that i've called to threaten you," exclaimed carlo corradini, the well-dressed italian, who lived such a gay existence in rome, and who was so well known in the cosmopolitan life of the corso and the pincio. "why should i? i am here, in sarzana, upon a secret mission--in order to speak with you." "why?" "well,"--as he paused he looked the young wife of the italian admiral full in the face--"well, because, though your country is at war with italy to-day, austria has still friends in italy, just as germany has." "ah! this war is all so horrible," declared the marchesa, with a slight shudder. "you italians hate every austrian with a fierce and deadly hatred." "pardon me, my dear elena, but you austrians hate us just as fiercely," he laughed. "where is guilio?" "at his office. he will not be back until seven. he always goes to the club to take his vermouth there." corradini glanced at the door to make certain it was closed; then, bending across the little table with its splendid silver service, he whispered: "i have a secret message for you--from somebody you know." "a secret message--what?" asked the young marchesa, opening her fine eyes widely. "from the herrengasse, number seven." "from vienna?" she asked, in surprise, for the address he had given her was the bureau of the austro-hungarian council of ministers. he nodded mysteriously, and with a grin said: "from your old friend schreyer." she drew a long breath and went pale for a second. mention of that name recalled to her a remembrance of the past--of the days when she was a dancer at the raimund theatre in vienna, and when count schreyer had, after a brief acquaintance, offered her his hand. but she had disliked him because he was such a cold, harsh bureaucrat, who had at that time occupied a high position at the ministry of the interior, and who possessed, as she once told a friend, "a heart of granite." elena's life-story had been a rather curious one, but, after all, not much out of the commonplace. the daughter of a poor austrian musician in the orchestra at the weiner burger theatre, in vienna, and of an italian mother, she had learned italian from her birth, and on going to italy to fulfil an engagement at the politeama, at livorno, she had posed as an italian, though hitherto she had lived all her life in austria, and had been taught to hate her dead mother's race. as an italian, she had met, and afterwards married, the middle-aged marchese michelozzo-alfani, at that time a vice-admiral of the fleet. for three years prior to the war her life had been quiet and uneventful. the summer she spent out at antignano, on the seashore, three miles from livorno--or leghorn, as the english call it--where they rented a big white villa amid the vines and olives; in spring, on the lake of garda; in autumn, in florence; and winter, in rome. from his early days the marchese had been a most popular naval officer, who had fought in abyssinia and in tripoli, and, being a favourite at the court of the quirinale, promotion had come to him rapidly. before his marriage he had endeavoured to practise economy, in order to redeem the fortunes of his ancient family; but now that his wife elena proved so extravagant, he found himself getting deeper into debt each day. his appointment to sarzana at the outbreak of the war had enabled him to return to the ancestral palace, which had passed from the bissolo family to that of the michelozzo in the sixteenth century, but which had for a good number of years been closed and in the hands of caretakers. his was one of the most important naval commands in italy, and the austrians were viewing that naval base with increased anxiety, it being so very close to both trieste and fiume. admiral michelozzo-alfani was one of the youngest of the officers of his grade in the italian navy. many raids he had made upon austrian ports on the adriatic, and ragusa, zara, sebenico and other places had suffered severe bombardment by his "mosquito" fleet; therefore, at the admiralty in vienna his great activity was being frequently discussed. "i see, my dear elena, you have not forgotten your friend the count," laughed the sallow-faced italian across the table presently. "neither has he forgotten you." "how do you know?" "well, because he spoke to me about you only three weeks ago." "three weeks ago!" echoed the marchesa. "how could you have met?" carlo corradini grinned very mysteriously. "well--i was in vienna three weeks ago--that is all." "you in vienna!" she gasped. "are you, then, a friend of my country?" she asked, in a low, hoarse whisper. "why, of course," he replied. "you are austrian in all but name. i am a born italian, but--well, i am a friend of austria." "a well-paid friend--eh?" "yes, just as you may be--if you will. the count is still your friend, and he greatly admires you. it is his one regret that you preferred the marchese guilio. he is a good fellow is the count. he is now prime favourite with the emperor, and he still remains unmarried. elena, he thinks always of you, and only you." the handsome elena shrugged her shoulders. the man who had called upon her quite unexpectedly she had first met five years ago in budapest. he was then a poor italian composer of music. yet now, in mysterious circumstances, he was, she knew, in possession of ample funds, and lived in an elegant flat close to the piazza colonna in rome. they exchanged glances, whereupon he settled himself to speak more openly to her, and to give her a verbal message from her old admirer at the herrengasse. carlo corradini began by laughing at her patriotic devotion to her husband's country. "of course guilio is a most excellent fellow," he said. "but, alas! he is merely fighting a lost cause. the central powers are bound to win, and it is now for you to assist your own country. schreyer appeals to you. he knows of your difficulty in meeting that last loan which old levitski, the jew, in milan, made to you a year ago, and--" "how does he know that?" she inquired, in quick surprise. "my dear elena, how does austria know so many secrets of her enemies?" he laughed. "schreyer is now head of that department of the secret service which deals with affairs here in italy, and--" "and you, an italian, are one of his agents," she interrupted, in a low, meaning voice. he bowed in the affirmative in silence. then, after a few moments, he remarked, in a strange, meaning tone, his black, penetrating eyes fixed upon her: "i know the secret of your nationality, and your friendship with count schreyer--and you know mine. so, my dear elena, we have nothing to fear from each other. do you understand?" "i don't understand. you surely are not hinting that i should betray my husband's secrets--the naval secrets of italy?" the dark, smooth-tongued man from rome smiled quietly, as he answered: "that, my dear elena, is exactly the message i bear to you from schreyer. it is known that your husband tells you a good deal. you have whispered secrets to your friends, the comtesse landrini, and also the renata pozzi. if to them, then why not to me--eh?" "never!" she cried. "i have married an italian, and i am now italian." "but the money. it will be useful. levitski must be paid in full in eight weeks' time. seventy-two thousand lire. that is the sum, i think? if you fail him this time, he will take his revenge and tell the truth." "he does not know." "but schreyer will tell him." "what?" she gasped, starting from her chair. "has the count told you that?" "well, he has not exactly said so in words," was her visitor's reply. "he only hinted at it, and sent me straight to see you. i had to travel by way of holland and london--quite a long journey." "then you shall tell him that i refuse," she answered. "i will never betray italy, and more especially through guilio, who believes in my patriotism, and never dreams that i am anything but an italian born and bred." "that makes it all the easier. he will never suspect you," remarked the sallow-faced man, with a sinister smile upon his lips. "i tell you," she cried angrily, "i decline to enter into it at all. i--" the door suddenly opened as she spoke, and there entered the admiral, a smart, good-looking, middle-aged man in uniform with decorations, whose appearance was so unexpected that they both started. "decline what, my dear?" he asked sharply. "what is the matter?" "oh, nothing, guilio," she laughed lightly. "you recollect signor corradini, who used to come to see us in livorno?" "why, of course," said the admiral, as the two men bowed to each other. a lie rose readily to her lips, and she said: "well, signor corradini has called in order to try and induce me to take part in the princess di paliano's _tableaux vivants_ at bologna, in aid of the croce-rosso. but i am far too busy with hospital work here in sarzana, so i have declined. "yes, dearest, you are far too busy. i am always afraid elena will overwork herself, my dear corradini. i am nervous lest she should have a breakdown." the woman and her tempter exchanged meaning glances. "everyone knows how intensely patriotic is the marchesa, and we all admire her for her hard work in the cause of charity. my friend the princess, however, asked me to call here and solicit her help, and in consequence i have done so." the admiral thanked him warmly, for the princess di paliano's exertions in war-work were well known throughout italy. elena's husband sipped the tea she handed him, and, after chatting with their visitor for a further half-hour, the admiral suddenly asked: "what are you doing down in rome nowadays?" "oh, of course, we are all working hard. i am secretary in a department in the ministry of war, the department which is in touch with france and england concerning munitions." he spoke the truth. carlo corradini held a very important position in the ministry, even though, as we afterwards discovered, he had in secret long been an enemy agent. this latter fact, guilio michelozzo-alfani never dreamed. like all others, he never imagined that carlo, hating the tedeschi so fiercely as he did, could be in secret their ingenious and unscrupulous friend. the marchese himself was a true-born italian, one of the ancient aristocracy of the north. those who know italy, know quite well the stern and honest patriotism of her sons from count to contadino, and of the fierce, relentless hatred of every austrian. presently the well-dressed civilian functionary rose, clicked his heels, and in the elegant italian manner raised his hostess's hand, and, kissing it, wished her _addio_. the dark eyes of the admiral's young wife met his in that second, and they understood. five minutes later carlo corradini was hurrying along the via vittorio emanuele, the principal street in sarzana, in the grey evening light; then, turning to the left, he gained the passeggio, which faced the adriatic, that long promenade lined with its dusty, wind-swept tamarisks, where by day the _cicale_, harbinger of heat, chirped their monotonous chant. corradini's visit to sarzana proved to be a protracted one. his excuse was that he had been sent from the ministry upon a special mission, and, in consequence, he had preferred to rent a little flat on the passeggio than to live in the albergo stella d'italia. one day, at six o'clock, he met, at a very obscure restaurant called the vapore, a certain countess malipiero, a middle-aged, ugly, but quite wealthy woman, who lived near the santa maria della salute, and who was a great personal friend of the marchesa. the pair dined together at the popular little establishment, eating a simple dish of _paste al pomidoro_, for which the _trattoria_ was noted, a _costoletta_ and a piece of _stracchino_ to follow. but over that simple meal the pair remained in serious consultation, while not far from them sat the good-looking but unobtrusive madame gabrielle soyez, for the pair were already under suspicion, though we had as yet no reliable evidence to justify interference. afterwards the pair walked together as far as the piazza grande, and there parted, the spy of austria smiling as he went along the noisy street towards the sea. chapter twenty one. the admiral's secret. three weeks passed. old sarzana has ever been a city of black conspiracy and clever intrigue. in those glorious days of the venetian republic persons of both sexes who were antagonistic, or in any way obstacles to the carrying-out of the secret plans of the council of ten, were "by accident" secretly poisoned or openly "assassinated," as is shown in the many reports which even to-day repose in the secret archives of the palace of the doges at venice. as mediaeval sarzana was a veritable hot-bed of intrigue in those days when venice ruled the adriatic, so were desperate plots afoot in the yesterday of cadorna's triumphant advance into austria. enemy plots and counter-plots were hatched in those darkened houses upon the silent waterways, or by the open sea. one of them i now reveal for the first time. truth to tell, the marchesa elena had been forced, by the elegant, insidious corradini, to accept traitorous service in the pay of austria. their usual meeting-place was in the old church of st antonio, which at vespers was always crowded by the devout, who, in the days of war, prayed for italy's victory. sarzana had always been one of the most pious cities in italy, and each evening the splendid old cathedral was crowded. and in that crowd the pair met--kneeling side by side to whisper, and again near them knelt madame gabrielle. in all sarzana no woman worked harder at the great war-hospital established in the communal palace than the popular wife of the admiral of the port. the marchese, the most influential and delightful man in sarzana, was, as everyone knew, the author of the many raids upon the enemy which had from time to time been carried out. well known, too, it was, how the "mosquito" fleet of destroyers, piloted by him, had only a month ago entered the great harbour of cattaro, opposite rimini, and had sunk four big austrian battleships at anchor there--four of the biggest ships of austria's navy. about this time the wealthy countess malipiero--who was nowadays elena's most intimate friend, and who was constantly at the admiral's table-- purchased a big sea-going motor-launch, a quiet, harmless old fisherman called beppo, well known in sarzana, being placed as skipper. before the war, the countess had, in secret, been in very poor circumstances, but owing to the death of a relative--so she explained--she had been left a substantial legacy. one evening, as the admiral and his wife were about to finish dinner _tete-a-tete_, the manservant announced that captain vivarini, the second in command, had called and desired to speak with his chief very urgently. "show the captain to the study," said the marchese, as he rose at once and passed along to his cosy little den which overlooked the port. elena, instantly upon the alert, and suspecting that something unusual had happened, waited until the captain had been conducted to her husband's room, and then she crept silently along to the door, where she knew she could overhear the conversation, having listened there several times before. on tiptoe she approached noiselessly over the soft turkey carpet, and, placing her ear to the door, was enabled to hear news. in brief, it was to the effect that one of the newest austrian submarines had been captured intact, with officers and crew, off the point of cortellazo. "the submarine number left fiume only yesterday, according to its commander, whom i have interrogated," the captain reported. "_benissimo_!" exclaimed the admiral, much gratified. "then the enemy will not yet know of its capture. in the meantime we must act. the submarine belongs to fiume, therefore, my dear vivarini, she must return to fiume." "go back?" echoed the captain. "yes. she must sail again to-night with an italian crew," said the admiral. "she will enter fiume harbour flying her own flag, but at the same time she will discharge torpedoes at as many of the vessels of war lying there as she can. you understand?" "_santa vergine_! what a plan," exclaimed the captain enthusiastically. "most excellent, signor marchese." "all must be done in strictest secrecy," said the other, lowering his voice. "not a single word must leak out, for there can be no doubt that there are spies here in sarzana. news of our intentions gets across the adriatic in an astounding manner sometimes. not a syllable must be known, either regarding our capture or our intentions. number must return to-night." "not a whisper," the captain agreed, whereupon the marchesa, a tall, slim figure in a dinner-gown of carnation pink, and wearing a velvet bow of the same shade in her hair, slipped back again to the salon, where she awaited her husband, pretending to read. "well, captain vivarini," she exclaimed, greeting their visitor merrily as the two men entered. "some new development, i suppose, eh?" "yes, marchesa," replied the handsome naval captain, bowing low over her hand with that peculiar italian courtesy. "a little confidential matter," and he laughed. then, after a cigarette and a tiny glass of green certosa, the admiral and the chief of his staff left. as soon as they had gone, elena rushed to her room, slipped off her dining-gown, and, putting on a tweed skirt and blouse, hurried from the house. she slipped along the dark, narrow side street, until suddenly she emerged on to the moonlit promenade, and ascended the dimly lit stone stairs which led to the room occupied by carlo corradini. in response to her ring, the spy of austria at once admitted her. "why, elena! this is a surprise. what has happened?" he asked eagerly. the admiral's wife passed into the little sitting-room, and, without seating herself, revealed hastily what was intended, adding: "i must return home at once or guilio may wonder where i am." "what a plot!" exclaimed the dark-haired traitor. "it does the greatest credit to your husband's ingenuity." then, suddenly reflecting, he said in a strange, hard voice: "if i act successfully your husband himself may be charged with giving away secrets to the enemy. if so, because you love him, you might denounce me, elena." after a second's pause, he added: "i trust no one. not even you. my life is at stake in this affair. therefore, you will swear that, whatever happens, and even if suspicion be cast upon your husband, you will never betray me?" "of course, carlo. am i not austrian? i swear it." the spy took from a table a book covered with shiny black leather, and pressed it very firmly into her hand. it was a copy of the new testament. "kiss it--and swear," he said. in obedience, she acted as he wished, repeating a solemn oath after him. "i trust you, elena," he said fervently, at the same time gallantly kissing the back of the white, slim hand which had held the book. "and i trust you, carlo," she whispered. "trust in me. no suspicion must rest upon anybody. i leave that to your own clever ingenuity." a few moments later she descended the steep stone stairs to hurry home as quickly as she could. arriving at the great _palazzo_, she at once resumed her smart dinner-gown, and, entering the salon half an hour afterwards, sat down to await her husband's return. ere she had done this, however, the motor-launch of the countess malipiero, driven by old beppo, sped out from the harbour on pretence of taking an invitation to one of the lieutenants on board the battleship _italia_, which was lying just within the mole. he slowed up alongside one of the guardships by the boom, and as he did so the great eye of a searchlight was turned full upon him. then, at once recognised by the watchman on duty, he was allowed to pass out to sea. being such a familiar figure, no suspicion had ever been cast upon the stern, patriotic old fellow. sometimes his boat was stopped and examined, but, as he never had anything aboard, it had become a habit with the guardships to allow him to pass unchallenged. when about a mile from the boom, the old fellow drew a map from his pocket, and, having examined it very carefully by the light of a flash-lamp, consulted his compass. then, altering his course, he sped along for nearly two hours in the darkening night, when at last he placed two green lights, one at port and one at bow. he had started at ten, but it was nearly one o'clock in the morning when he began to grow anxious and consult his watch. presently he saw the slight tremor of a searchlight, and, fearing detection by some italian ship, he at once extinguished all his lights, and, pulling up, waited for nearly half an hour. it was a dark, lonely vigil, but, with the aid of another cigar, the crafty old seafarer passed the time until he again ventured to relight his green lamps. scarcely had he done this when, about half a mile away, he saw a tiny light winking in the morse code. he read the familiar signal, and, cutting off his engine, waited until, of a sudden, the low hull of a submarine came up in the darkness, quite close to him. then, adroitly manoeuvring his launch, both the vessel and boat rising and falling in the heavy swell, he drew nearer. "is that beppo?" shouted a voice in italian from the submarine. "yes," shouted the old man. "i have something for you." he took from his pocket a small leather bag-purse, such as men carry, one of those drawn through a ring, tied it upon a tight line, and, standing up, he flung it with a seaman's precision over the conning-tower of the submarine. "all right," shouted the austrian officer, for such he was. "wait a moment till i've read what you have brought." for a few moments he disappeared into the body of the vessel, while beppo hauled in his wet line. then, when the officer reappeared, he shouted: "all right, beppo. no answer. _buona notte e buon viaggio_." that same evening a secret council had been held, presided over by the admiral, when all the details were arranged. the officers and crew of the austrian submarine number were safely under lock and key, and after the council, just before eleven o'clock, the admiral himself visited the captured undersea boat, and inspected it. commander bellini, one of italy's most distinguished submarine officers, had been chosen, together with a picked crew, to attempt the raid, but none were informed, for the marchese was determined this time to keep the secret of his plans. just before midnight a submarine, heavily awash, for the sea was rough, slipped away out of the harbour of sarzana, winked a farewell message, and then, submerging so as not to be seen by other ships, was lost to view. she was the raider, the intention of whose commander was to blow up, or damage seriously, at least half a dozen of the enemy's ships lying off fiume, on the other shore of the adriatic. the italian crew consisted of a picked lot of fine patriotic fellows, who only now knew their desperate mission, and they knew also what their fate must be--either death or capture, when the truth became revealed. after travelling swiftly all night, the periscope revealed at dawn the long, broken austrian coast. then, when within five miles of the entrance to the deep bay of quarnero, at the end of which is situated austria's important harbour, the vessel emerged and ran up her austrian colours. before her, high upon the green point of monte grosso, which guards the entrance to the bay, a signal was made, to which number replied, and then, with her grey hull showing above the surface, she sped unsuspiciously up the channel, past the small wooded islands, and the pretty town of abbazia, into the harbour, where lay fully a dozen war vessels, including three of the enemy's biggest battleships. suddenly, however, just as she was about to discharge a torpedo at a battleship flying the admiral's flag, the thunder of guns rang out from all sides, and number became the target for concentrated fire from all the forts. as the shells hit her she flew to pieces. next second she was seen to be rapidly sinking with all on board, not a soul being able to escape from that rain of death. the submarine had been entrapped, and the raid had ignominiously failed. news of the disaster reached admiral michelozzo-alfani through the naval intelligence department in the afternoon, and he sat in his room astounded. so well kept had been his secret that he felt absolutely positive that, outside those officers who formed his council, nobody had any knowledge of his intention. all of those officers were men above suspicion. that there was a traitor somewhere he was more fully convinced than ever. other minor secrets had been known to the enemy mysteriously from time to time, yet he had been utterly unable to trace the source of the leakage. alone in his office at the port, he sat at his table, his brow resting upon his hands. at noon, unknown to him, his wife had telephoned to the countess malipiero, but was informed by the latter's maid that she had left hurriedly for rome on the previous night, after a visit from her friend, signor corradini. throughout the afternoon she expected carlo to call upon her, and became extremely anxious when he did not put in an appearance. at last, unable to stand the strain longer, she sent her little sewing-maid round to corradini's flat, but the girl returned with the letter to say that, according to the _donna di casa_, the signor had left sarzana hurriedly at ten o'clock the previous night. the hours seemed like years as the guilty woman sat alone in her magnificent, old-world salon, pale, startled, and nervous. upon her left hand she wore a white glove. she had worn it ever since the previous evening, and the reason had greatly perturbed her. at last, at nearly ten o'clock that night, her husband returned, hard-faced and haggard. with him was his chief of staff, captain vivarini, madame gabrielle, and myself. the instant we entered the room she saw that guilio was not his old self. "elena," he said abruptly, in a deep, hard voice, "i have something to say to you, and i have brought vivarini here as witness." "as witness," she echoed, starting to her feet. "of what?" "as witness that you are innocent of the charge made against you, that you, though my wife, are a spy of austria." "a spy," she laughed uneasily, in pretence of ridicule. "have you really taken leave of your senses, guilio?" "i have not. tell me," he demanded, "why are you wearing that glove?" i saw that she held her breath. her face was instantly blanched to the lips. "because last night i scratched my hand," she replied. "please remove it, and allow me to see the scratch." "i refuse," she cried angrily. next instant, at a sign from the marchese, vivarini and i seized her hand, when her husband, roughly tearing off the white kid glove, examined her palm. he stood aghast. "_dio_!" gasped the horrified man. "the brand is here. you, elena, my wife, you are the spy." "guilio," shrieked the unhappy woman, flinging herself frantically upon her knees before him. "forgive me. _santa madonna_! forgive me!" "i may forgive you, elena," replied the admiral, in a low, stern voice, "but italy will never forgive." then, turning abruptly, he left the room, the captain following. but as he passed out two agents of the italian secret police passed in, and a few seconds later the wretched woman found herself under arrest. it was not until her trial by court-martial, in milan, two weeks later, that the marchesa learned, from the evidence given by madame gabrielle and myself, the truth of carlo corradini's terrible vengeance--a long-nurtured grievance that he had held against her ever since those days in budapest, when, on proposing to her, she had laughed him to scorn, and had actually told people of his poverty. he had sworn to be avenged, and truly his vengeance had been both ingenious and complete. on the evening when she had brought to his room the information regarding the captured submarine he had handed her the testament upon which to take her oath of secrecy. upon the shiny black leather cover of that book he had traced with a solution of nitrate of silver, mixed with other chemicals, a geometrical design--a square divided in half, the lower part being left blank, and in the upper portion a "v", above it being traced a small circle. when he had placed the book into her palm it had left an indelible imprint upon her skin, a device which did not show itself until an hour later, when, very naturally, it greatly mystified her. carlo corradini had thus branded the woman he hated, and then, the coup having been made at fiume, he had at once written an anonymous letter to armand hecq, head of the international intelligence bureau, denouncing the admiral's wife as an austrian, who had divulged italy's secret. in support of his allegation, he urged us to search the rooms of carlo corradini, where we should not only find evidence of espionage, but also the actual testament by which the hand of the marchesa had been branded. further, that eighty thousand lire would be found in her possession, that being the price which corradini had paid for the information concerning submarine number . the trial, held in camera, opened at eleven o'clock, and just before three sentence of death was pronounced. an hour later i was present when a firing party was drawn up in the yard of the great san giovanni prison. her eyes were bandaged, and the capital sentence was carried out. truly, carlo corradini was a scoundrel of the worst type, and his revenge was, indeed, a dastardly one. fortunately, however, it reflected upon himself, for, four months later, he and his companion, the countess, were captured, living in obscurity in a small coast village near bari, in the extreme south of italy, where they were hoping to escape to greece. corradini's own anonymous letter proved the most direct evidence against him, and ultimately both paid the same penalty as their victim, in the yard of the prison of san giovanni at milan. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the end. flying the coast skyways or jack ralston's swift patrol by ambrose newcomb author of trackers of the fog pack wings over the rockies sky pilots great chase the sky detectives eagles of the sky the goldsmith publishing co. chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright, the goldsmith publishing co. made in u. s. a. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i by air-line to atlanta ii the cipher letter iii the leech hangs on iv perk has an adventure v their running schedule vi by the skin of their teeth vii on the air-line to charleston viii ships passing in the night ix when the dawn came x ready to strike xi where war once broke out xii when cousins get in touch xiii picking up facts xiv perk gets an earful xv the trial spin xvi all in a day's work xvii spinning the net xviii black water bayou xix the lonely camp xx the mother ship xxi the motor-truck caravan xxii down to business at last xxiii at the rendezvous xxiv perk rides in the ghost boat xxv a well oiled machine xxvi striking out xxvii the luckless speedboat xxviii ready for another blow xxix jethro takes a hand xxx the wind-up--conclusion ------------------------------------------------------------------------ flying the coast skyways chapter by airline to atlanta "big smoke dead ahead, partner!" "i've been expecting to hear you announce that fact, per--i mean wally!" "kinder guess naow it mout be birmingham, eh, what, boss?" "no other--you hit the nail on the head that time, mr. observer." "huh! my _native_ town, which i'm naow agwine to see fur the fust time." "better get out of the habit of making such crazy cracks, brother--what if any one overheard you, and took a notion in his head you might be somebody other than just a down-in-dixie product from alabama,--raised in the north, where you acquired a whiff of the dialect of a canuck--and by name wallace j. corkendell, though generally answering to plain _wally_." "hot-diggetty-dig! that ere smoke cloud sure looks jest like an ole peasoup fog-pack we done got lost in not so far back. by gravy! i doant b'lieve we'll even git one squint at the pesky city as we fly over the same!" "i can easily see where i'm bound to have a lot of fun listening to you trying to talk in three different lingoes, all mixed up in one great mess--yankee, your native brogue; canadian patios, contracted while with the northwest mounted police; and now a pidgin english, such as a southern colored boy might use. i only hope such a mixture doesn't queer the big game we've got laid out ahead for us, whatever its nature proves to be." "i er-_reckons_--_yeou_ says i gotter use that word right along naow, 'cause no alabama white or black boy never does _guess_ anything--i reckons, suh, i'll git a strangle-holt on the way a gen-u-ine cracker keeps up his end o' a talkie--given a little time fo' practice." "that begins to sound like the real stuff, comrade," observed jack; and despite the clamor of engine exhaust, and whirling propellers both of them were able to hear every word uttered, simply because they were wearing their usual earphone attachments, without which they never made a flight. "i'm beginning to feel encouraged to believe you'll come through with flying colors. there, we're directly over birmingham, and going strong to eastward." "huh! i'm right glad yeou done tole me so, suh," perk hastened to reply, doubtless with one of his usual chuckles; "'case all i kin make aout's a black smudge o' smoke ahuggin' the ground, with a few church steeples apokin' a finger through the same. so, there she lies, my own, my native city! ain't it affectin', though, ole pal, acomin' back like this, after many years, an' discoverin' that same thick smoke fog asettled daown on the dear old place? gee whiz! i'm jest awonderin' whether us southern kids ever _did_ have a gen-u-ine ole swimmin'-hole in them _won_-derful days, eh, what?" when they were positively alone, and no danger of crafty eavesdroppers picking up their words, the two cronies were pleased to extract a certain amount of fun out of their assumed characters--for jack ralston of course was also sailing under a _nom-de-guerre_, as well as his best pal--with him the new name was "rodman warrington," and he was supposed to be a rich and eccentric new york city sportsman, weary of the routine of the carrituck sound shooting club to which he belonged, and ardently desirous of exploring the various bays, sounds and twisting rivers along the wild coast of north and south carolina, as well as georgia. "to be sure they did, brother," jack was saying, reassuringly, in reply to the skeptical question propounded by his running mate; "if you stop and think you'll remember how every american boy who grew up and amounted to shucks was always getting a great thrill out of memories of such a meeting-place, where all the boys took occasion to show off in doing stunts with a diving board." "say, naow 'at we've left dear ole birmingham in the rear, haow long 'fore we drop daown on candler field outside atlanta?" "depends on what time we keep making," jack informed him; "we're speeding along at a hundred-and-twenty clip just now, with only two motors working; and if there was any necessity for fetching it up to an even hundred-and-fifty we could easily enough do the same--and then some. i reckon we'll come in sight of candler field in about an hour-and-a-half--the chart tells me it's something like one-fifty miles, as the bee flies, between this southern pittsburgh and the capital of georgia." "meanin' to stop over in atlanta long, partner?" demanded perk; who apparently was not wholly advised of his leader's plans, as far as they were matured, and as usual "wanted to know." "around twenty-four hours, possibly less, buddy," jack explained. "we've an appointment, made for us from headquarters in washington, to meet up with a certain official connected with the secret service, who holds forth in atlanta--from him we'll receive a certain amount of information, and be referred to another party, high in the secrets of the service in charleston. when we jump off from that south carolina city we'll know all we're expected to carry out--what we've been called east to accomplish. there, that's everything in a nutshell; i'm as much in the dark as you, even though i reckon i've figured things out, if a bit hazily, to tell the truth." "we're goin' after some sort o' big game, i er-reckon, partner?" perk speculated, his manner making the remark seem like a question. "no doubt about that, boy--they wouldn't have called for us to fly all the way from san diego, (with two necessary stops to prevent spies from learning as to who we are, and why we're heading east) if it hadn't been that some others in the secret service had played their innings--and fallen asleep at the switch." "hot-diggetty-dig! i'd say that'd be a neat compliment they're givin' us, ole hoss," perk exulted; as enthusiastic as a boy over a christmas present of a brand new shiny pair of club skates. "another thing i'd like to hear tell 'baout, ja--er, mr. warrin'ton, suh." "as what, partner--you'll notice that i'm trying to call you all sorts of chummy names--that's for the purpose of trying to forget i ever knew you as perk, or gabe perkiser. if you do the same there'll be less chance of giving our game away; for if any kind of quick-witted spies should hear us exchanging words they'd remember the real names of the two sky detectives who were playing particular hob with gents who gave uncle sammy the laugh. now, i reckon you're referring to that letter i had just before we lifted out ship at san diego last night." "yeou said it, er-ole pal," replied perk, catching his treacherous tongue just in the nick of time. "i kinder--reckoned it mout acome from the gent over in san diego, who's been aour boss since we started operations 'long the coast." "a fair enough guess, brother," jack told him; "because that's the official who gave us the order to break away, and what to do on the skyway east. there was also some interesting information concerning the job we finished up some weeks back; and i meant to hand that over to you; but somehow failed to connect." "i'm right tickled to hear that, suh--fack is i'd begun to feel they wasn't zactly treatin' us white, not sayin' as haow we'd done the service proud, the way we fetched slim garrabrant back after he'd broke loose from the pen, an' started his ole tricks again."[ ] "oh! they were quite enthusiastic about the success of our work, after others had fallen down on the job--that is, as warm as those cold people at headquarters ever do get, it being against their principles to over praise those working under them, for fear of giving the poor guys the big-head. you can read the letter before i destroy it, brother. the big boss in l. a. also wrote that slippery slim had been safely returned to his former cell in leavenworth, and with an added sentence; so, as they'll watch him closer from now on, there's small chance of our ever running up against him after this." "well, he was a good guy when it came to tacklin' big games, i'll tell the whole world," observed the satisfied perk; who again busied himself with his reliable binoculars, eagerly surveying the checkered landscape a mile or more under the bottom of their fuselage; and which continued to prove of considerable interest to perk, this being actually the first time he had ever passed over that section of the southland, despite his absurd claim to having spent his boyhood days in birmingham, ala. the time drifted along, with their speed undiminished. pine woods, tracts of corn, cotton, tobacco; acres of fruit trees, pecan groves, even sugarcane patches--all these signs of the southland he kept seeing as the miles flew past. "i kinder--er-reckons as haow we've done shot past the dividin' line 'tween alabam 'nd georgia, boss," he presently announced, with a grand air of superior knowledge; "case i jest seen a town squatted on a river, an' painted on the roof o' a house was a name, fo' the benefit o' fliers like weuns--tallapoosa she read, which tells me that must a been the river tallapoosa--all bein' 'cross the line in harlson county, georgia, ('cordin' to my map here.) if that's correct we right naow ain't more'n fifty miles from aour goal--less'n half an hour yet to fly." "you are hot on the trail, comrade," jack assured him. "keep your eyes skinned to pick up another smoke cloud dead ahead, which will be the first sign of our nearing atlanta, the new york city of the south." perk continued to watch and wait, until finally he gave a half suppressed whoop, to add exultantly: "it's a _big_ smoke smudge, all right, buddy; so we're rushing daown on aour goal like a river afire; which pleases a feller called wally okay, yeou bet!" ----- footnote : see "trackers of the fog pack." chapter ii the cipher letter jack did not seem to be at all surprised when his best pal made this abrupt announcement; but then he always kept himself prepared for coming events. "i was expecting to hear you say that, buddy;" he told his mate; "for the past fifty miles on, our string up to date had about run through. i reckon we'll be on foot before many more minutes. get the airport yet--wally?" "sure do, and right naow i kin glimpse a big--looks like our fokker, agoin' to drop daown." "yes, possibly belongs to either of the latest lines using candler field for a base--eastern air transport, for passengers and mail; and southern air fast express--covering the route between los angeles and atlanta--both now-a-days carrying capacity loads, the papers have been saying." "shucks! takes yeou to git things daown pat, big boss," perk went on to comment. "where do we go from here, mister?" "after we've made arrangements for housing our crate," explained jack, good-naturedly--although he had told his chum the same thing at least twice before the present occasion--perk could be so forgetful, he remembered--"we'll make straight for the henry grady hotel, where we'll find a letter in code awaiting us, unless there's been a nasty hitch in the arrangements." "but--yeou said we had to meet up with some gent here, partner?" "that's right, too, wally; but only after i've decoded the letter from headquarters, which is going to put us wise about the nature of our present big adventure. no great hurry to get moving on, as far as i know at present; so it might be we can hang around atlanta a day or more. but both of us will have to play our parts, and fend off any too inquisitive newspaper men. i've learned that the atlanta reporters are keen on picking up every scrap of aviation news possible, so's to make up a story that will go well. we shun that sort of notoriety, don't forget, brother, as the devil does holy water." they were by this time circling candler field, which seemed to be bustling with feverish activity--planes of various types were either landing, or else starting up; while several could now be seen cruising at sublime heights, either being put through their paces by pilots, or what was more likely carrying excursionists in the shape of "sandbags," greenhorn air holiday makers, out to get an experience that would give them a superior advantage over friends who had never as yet gone aloft. jack made an exceptionally clever landing, and then turned over the stick to his mate, as if eager to make it appear that perk was the _real_ article when it came to being the head pilot of the multi-motored cabin fokker, that had not the least sign of a name, nor yet a number to identify it. a number of men came running toward the rather retired spot where jack had purposely come down. leading them was a little whipper-snapper specimen, in a rather loud checkered suit, who gave all the recognized signs of being a hustling, live-wire newspaper man, always on the scent for some unusual happening such as could be turned into a thrilling story,--such keen investigators are to be found at nearly every airport worth while, eager to satisfy the curiosity of the multitude of readers who are developing air mindedness at a rapid rate. "greetings gents;" he started in to say, with a cheerful grin on his sharp features, and holding a pencil in one hand while he had a pad of blank paper all ready in the other. "if you would kindly give me a few facts connected with your identity, where you jumped off, whither bound, and so forth the many readers of my paper would be glad to extend to you a warm welcome to the gate city of the south." jack gravely shook hands with the diligent worker, and obligingly fed him a little cock-and-bull story, giving the names he and perk had recently taken upon themselves, and merely stating they were from texas, bound to atlanta on private business connected with aviation circles. he did this to quiet the news gatherer, until they could dispose of their ship, and get started for the hotel in a taxi to be hired near by. jack knew the breed to a dot, and felt confident the lively chap would fill in enough imaginary details to make an interesting account; so that was that, and he was at liberty to turn to the one in authority with whom arrangements could be made for parking the big fokker in a convenient hangar at so much per diem. of course wise jack had seen to it that never the slightest clue could be discovered by the shrewdest spy, to indicate what these air travelers really had in view--he was quite willing that such a sneaky investigator examine the ship from one end to the other, and welcome--the gravest danger of discovery would lie in some indiscreet remark on the part of perk; but even this did not give jack any considerable worry. they were soon on their way into the heart of wide-awake, bustling atlanta, and presently brought up at the noted hostelry, to which they had been directed to proceed. jack, after dismissing the taxi, followed the hotel attendant who had seized upon the two bags they had with them. he registered without ostentation; and no sooner had the clerk taken a look at their names, when about to assign them a double room on the third floor, than he remarked casually: "a letter waiting for you, mr. warrington," and after shuffling a pack of envelopes swiftly, he handed jack a registered letter, bearing the washington postmark across the stamps. jack carefully deposited the same in an inner pocket; then a minute later they both followed a bellboy into the elevator and ascended. when finally they found themselves behind a closed door perk turned an eager face upon his comrade, as he remarked in a low tone, with a nervous look all around, as though half expecting to discover some eavesdropper peeping out from a closet, or from behind an easy-chair: "she kim okay, seems like, ja--er mr. warrington--then things they're keepin' on the move, an' we're a step closer to aour field o' operations than when we started aout, eh, what, suh?" "lock the door, brother--i'm going to get busy decoding this letter, after which you'll know _everything_. now settle down in that chair, and give me ten minutes of time for the job--possibly a bit more, since i see it's rather a long communication." perk followed these directions out, and continued to watch the other as a terrier might hover over a hole in the kitchen wall, from which he expected a rat to thrust out his nose at any second. jack took a little more time than he had reckoned on; but, being expert at reading the secret cipher code adopted by the government, in the end he had mastered the entire contents of the letter of instructions. "pull over this way a little, partner," he told the feverishly waiting perk. "i want to lower my voice while explaining what it's all about; and we just can't be too careful, since walls sometimes have ears especially in this day of the hidden dictograph. to begin with," he went on to add, "we seem to have guessed fairly well that it was bound to have some connection with the smuggling business along the atlantic seaboard, between norfolk and savannah." perk's grin was enormous at hearing this. "didn't i jest _know_ that'd be aour job?" he chuckled, evidently vastly pleased at having "hit the target in the bull's eye." "ever since we carried on so well daown in floridy along back, i been 'spectin' unc. sam'd root out same kinder game fur us to get busy on onct more." "but this promises to be the biggest adventure we've ever tackled, bar none, brother," jack proceeded to explain. "this letter goes on to tell what an enormous amount of unlawful stuff is being flooded on the country through a powerful syndicate that's said to be backed by some heavy unknown parties with unlimited capital at their control. ours is going to be the task of finding out who they are; and likewise throwing a monkey-wrench into the smoothly running machinery by which they have been cheating the government revenue right along, getting bolder and bolder, so that they virtually snap their fingers under uncle sam's nose." "gee! that sounds fine to me, ole hoss," gurgled perk, rubbing his hands vigorously together as he spoke. "i jest kinder allers did yearn to tackle things sech as had a tough reputation behind 'em. course there's been a wheen o' customs men atryin' to squash this combine--it's allers thataways, seems like!" "yes, looks as if the whole business is running true to form, brother," jack further admitted. "the chief candidly tells me they have been laying all sorts of clever traps for many moons, only to have these skip-by-night lads give them the laugh. he hopes we'll meet up with better luck." "if so be it's a fair question, partner, haow do they reckon this traffic she's bein' kerried on, to slip by the fast customs patrol boats an' land the cargoes safe an' sound?" "that's where the crux of the whole affair seems to come in," jack thrilled the other by saying. "a few craft from bimini have been overhauled, and seized, though as a rule the crew always managed to slip away, jumping overboard close in among the reeds, and disappearing in the brush along the river bank. but these occasional seizures never made even a dent in the immense operations, the chief admits." "how come then, buddy--bet yeou a cookey 'gainst thirty cents they got a line o' flyin' boats doin' the business." "my stars! how wonderfully keen you are about guessing things; for that's just what this letter admits; and now we know why they called on us to get in the game--we seem to have made a big hit with the chief, on account of how we managed to use our wings, and beat the old nick at his own game of high-spy." "ain't it great, though, to know they do 'preciate _somethin'_ we've kerried aout? but what's the idee o' aour headin' fur charleston after we kick aout o' this burgh, eh, partner?" "there are a lot of things to be said and done before we can break into the game; and we'll get fully posted by the government agent in charleston. besides, we've got to handle another kind of ship,--in fact an amphibian, capable of dropping down on water as well as on land, and taking off the same way." "glory be! naow ain't that fine?" perk exclaimed, ecstatically. "i never yet had anythin' to do with them crocodile type o' boats, an' never 'spected to; so this same is a big s'prise, as well as a pleasure--thank the chief fur me whenever yeou're writin', baby." "okay, brother," came the ready answer. "fortunately it happens that i'm somewhat familiar with the handling of that type of boat. besides, we're under orders not to hurry things along at all--to take our own time, and get fully in touch with our new craft before starting on the job for keeps." "air we meanin' to handle this layout all by aour lonesome?" perk questioned. "as a rule, yes; but we are also expected to call upon certain skippers of fleet patrol boats to lend a hand. he's given a list of four rum chasers whose commanders will recognize the signal we give, and place their craft at our disposal as long as we wish; so you see we're to really be in command of a squadron, if the necessity arises. i'm meaning to take down the names of the four customs boats before i destroy this illuminating letter, according to instructions." then jack went on to speak of other things the letter had contained, with the intention of posting perk regarding the immensity of the task being given over to their handling. "he described this wide-stretching conspiracy to smash the coast guard service as a species of octopus, reaching out its myriad of arms, so as to cover the entire coast line--deliveries have been accomplished with almost clock-like regularity, and the custom service is being made a laughing stock among those in the secret. no wonder the chief is feeling hot under the collar; for i reckon there never as yet has been a time like the present, when all the best laid plans of his most skillful and bravest men have gone on the rocks. i've a feeling that if we manage to give this big conspiracy its death blow, there isn't a favor too great for the boss to grant us." "what's bein' kerried in mostly, partner--does he tell us that?" "he mentions expensive liquor, of course, as the principal contraband," jack informed him "but narcotics as well have been coming, in unknown quantities, straight from china, also some country in the balkans, turkey being suspected. then there are diamonds, and other precious stones that carry a heavy duty; laces; expensive havana cigars from cuban factories; and even chinese immigrants, so eager to land in the country of opportunity and dollars they are willing to pay enormous sums for transportation, with a safe landing guaranteed." "the more the merrier, sez i," snapped perk. "yeou was asayin' a bit ago it's b'lieved they done got rafts o' spies pickin' up secrets o' the customs service, so's to trick the boats into startin' aout on false leads, that leaves the landin' places unguarded--mebbe, naow, ole scout, yeou even goes so far as to reckon that slick newspaper gink might be jest sech a peek-a-boo boy, aout to put the kibosh on aour fine game." "you never can tell, buddy; if you meet him again play the deaf and dumb racket, which is the only safe plan." chapter iii the leech hangs on "hot-diggetty-dig! seems like the more we poke into this here business, the warmer it gets!" perk exploded, banking on the safety of their hotel room to keep his language from being heard. "oh! like as not all this is only the opening gun of our new campaign," was his companion's cool comment. "later on, when we find ourselves neck deep in the mixup, you'll be looking back, and smiling at what you're saying now. from present indications i'd say this affair is giving promise of being the biggest case we ever had the nerve to tackle." "the bigger they get the further they falls, partner, doan't make any mistake 'bout that ere fack," said perk, grimly. "huh! sometimes i get to thinkin' what happened up in that hole-in-the-wall outlaw retreat, and i'm awonderin' what ever did come o' that gang after we kicked off with aour prisoner."[ ] "which reminds me i didn't think to tell you _all_ the news that was contained in that letter from los angeles--want to hear it now, brother?" "sure do, mister," snapped perk, greedily; "it'll amuse me while i'm awashin' up here in aour neat little bathroom." jack followed him into the next compartment, evidently so that he could keep his voice down to a low pitch. "something like a week later," he told the listening perk, "they took off in the biggest crate they could commandeer into the service--half a dozen fighting men, heavily armed, and prepared for anything that might come along. good weather favored them, and they came in sight of the valley among the high cliffs in the daytime. "after circling, and lowering their altitude, they could not see the least thing to indicate the presence of a solitary human being; so finally the pilot set them down exactly on the smooth landing field the gang used when working their old wreck of a ship, carrying the packages of counterfeit notes out to distribute the same to different stations; and fetching back assorted supplies, including the best of grub. "the place was abandoned, and looked like an earthquake had struck that particular quarter--the mouth of the pass leading into the wonderful valley was filled thirty feet high with a mass of rocks, thrown down by the tremendous force of the bomb you exploded when we cleared out; and some of the cabins and huts had been knocked to flinders by the men in their rage at being kicked out of their hidden retreat. their old plane too, was scattered all around the field. "the government agents found the plates from which the spurious notes had been printed, and destroyed all but a portion, which they wished to forward to washington for inspection by the chief and his staff. then they amused themselves by climbing to a five hundred foot ceiling, and making a target of the hut where the work had been carried on. our friend in l.a. went on to assure me a clever hit by a bomb had scattered that squatty building we used to watch by the hour, to the four winds; and the printing press too was smashed to useless atoms by the force of the explosion." "bully! bully!" perk was saying, joyously, proudly, through the soap lather he had accumulated on his face; "then we sure did a natty piece o' work up there in that god-forsaken neck o' the woods. seems like life has got _some_ bright spots in the framework arter all, an' ain't jest a dinky fogbelt like i sometimes find myself b'lievin'." "it has its ups and downs we've got to remember, partner," advised sensible jack; "especially along the risky line of business we're engaged in. so we've got to take things as they come, wet weather mixed with sunny days, and just keep on doing our duty as we find it." "huh gue--reckon we gotter jest grin an' bear it," added perk, rubbing his face and neck with the course huck towel, as he loved to do on occasion. "but haow long do we stick here in atlanta tell me, boss?" "for one night only, if things work as i hope they will," said jack, promptly enough, showing that his plan of campaign was beginning to shape up. "mind if i step aout for a little while, partner; i done forgot to lay in some tooth-paste, an' i'm kinder used to havin' a tube o' the same along with me, yeou know, suh?" perk was the possessor of an unusually fine set of teeth, of which he was inordinately proud, as jack had occasion to know full well; so that this request on his part seemed perfectly natural. "certainly not, _wally_," jack told him, purposely emphasizing the name, as if to keep the other from forgetting how necessary it was to be forever on his guard, so as not to be caught napping. "like as not you'll find a drugstore handy to the hotel, and can get what you want easily enough. i'd rather you didn't go far away--a walk might seem like a fine thing; but when it's taken i want to be along, as two pair of eyes and ears might be better than one, to ward off danger." "that's okay, mister," came the cheery reply, as perk stepped over to pick up his hat; "an' it gives me a warm feelin' 'raound my heart to hear yeou say that same--i'm never so happy as when goin' into action, yeou know right well. when i was over in france, helpin' run that sausage balloon we used for observation purposes, it allers gimme a wonderful thrill jest to see six heinie ships takin' off, intendin' to ketch us guys 'fore we could drop to solid earth, an' knock the stuffin' aout o' us with some o' their consarned bombs, which they sure knowed haow to manufacture to beat the frenchies all holler. so-long ja--mr. warrington i'll be back agin in a jiffy." just the same it was fully fifteen minutes before perk again showed up; and jack found himself beginning to worry when the door opened, with perk's grinning face exposed. jack noticed that after the other entered the room his first act was to most carefully _lock the door_; and there was something significant about this action, so foreign to perk's usual carelessness, that the other was forced to believe something or other must have happened while he was out of the hotel, to render perk so solicitous. "got your tooth paste, did you, boy?" he asked. "easy enough," quoth perk, still with that quizzical expression on his sun-tanned, homely face. "found there was a drugstore right handy; an' seein' i was thirsty i jest stopped over to pick up a drink o' soda an' cream. that's where, things begins to happen, yeou see." "oh! they did," echoed jack, raising his eyebrows as he watched the face of the other, and noting how a grave look had succeeded the humorous one. "suppose you tell me what it was came along while you were enjoying your soda?" "well, yeou see, partner," commenced perk; "there happens to be a gink astandin' close by, which i aint paid any 'tention to, bein' wrapped up in my own affairs jest then. i'd raised the glass to take a fust sup when i done heard somebody say, right by my ear seemed like: 'goin' to stay with us in atlanta enny length o' time, mister corkendall, suh?'" perk evidently had a little streak of the dramatic in his composition, for he stopped just then, and eyed his companion eagerly, as if tickled to know his communication had given the usually cool jack a bit of a start. "oh! you don't say, brother?" the other was remarking; "then after all the party at the soda counter wasn't quite a stranger to you seeing he evidently had learned your name?" "darned if i kin make aout partner, haow he ever got wise to the fack, so's to call me mister corkendall." "go on, brother--what did you do then?" demanded jack. "huh! i was a bit flustered, yeou see," explained perk, "'cause i'd got a side squint at his mug; i reckoned i needed 'bout half a minute to git a grip on my senses; so i tilted up my glass, an' swallered a few times; and say it 'peared to me like a thousand things flashed through my poor ole brain like a stroke o' lightnin'." "did you answer him?" demanded jack, frowning. "i sure did," came unhesitating the reply; "'case i jest had to. yeou see, partner, he'd been astandin' thar right along, an' in course he done heard me order my drink; so if i tried to play that dumb trick, as haow yeou tole me, he'd aknown things must a been a bit mixed, an' the fat'd be in the fire. did i do the right thing boss, tell me?" jack smiled amiably again. "that was certainly one time your mother wit _didn't_ fail you, comrade," he told the other. "now, go ahead and let me know what followed; because i've already guessed the man at your elbow must have been that smart aleck newspaper reporter we last saw looking over our ship so suspiciously." ----- footnote : see "trackers of the fog pack." chapter iv perk has an adventure perk might have been observed swelling out his chest somewhat, as though this praise on the part of his ally went straight to his head like rich wine. "i done tole him it was all up to yeou, mister warrington--seein' as haow i was jest a humble air pilot aworkin' fur yeou---we might be in atlanta a hull week, mebbe so, fur all i knowed." "that was another clever thing for you to say, brother," jack assured him, only too ready to praise when praise was due; "it might serve to throw him off the scent; but no matter how long or how short our stay chances to be, i've a hunch we're bound to see more than we want of that nosey chap. like most of his breed he means to find out all he can, either to make a story that will give his readers a fine kick; or on the other hand, if he does happen to be one of that syndicate's paid spies, to learn who and what we really are, and why we're in atlanta, coming out of the west--for i reckon he saw our first approach this same day, and jotted that fact down in his mind." "he done tried hard to start me talkin' 'baout yeour business, so i jest had to tell him as haow yeow was on'y sportin' fo' sport, an' undecided whether to go on daown to hunt black bears in the canebrakes o' ole louisiana; or else strike aout fo' currituck sound on the coast, to git a whack at the wild geese an' swans as kin be shot on the club preserves." "you couldn't have done better any way you tried, brother," warmly commended jack, whacking the other on his back, and causing him to fairly glow with satisfaction. "only i hope he didn't catch on about that three distinct language business i was speaking about not so long ago." perk shook his head briskly in the negative. "i was mighty keerful not to say _too_ much, partner," he continued; "with him afirin' questions at me like the rat-tat-tat o' a machine-gun. so i pays fo' my soda, an' tells the youngster i gotter hurry back to where yeou was awaitin' fo' me to unpack the bags; an' with that i leaves him right whar he was standin', lookin' at me outen them sharp eyes o' hisn like he'd bore into me with a gimlet, so's to know ever'thing i had in my head. that sap is certain sure the mos' uncomfortable bird to run across when yeou got a secret up yeour sleeve, i ever did tackle." "i can well believe you, brother," observed the relieved jack. "chances are you've left him in something of an uncertain frame of mind; but as he's built on the pattern of a bloodhound, he isn't meaning to give up the scent as long as we're within his reach. that forces me to decide on skipping from atlanta as soon as possible, for he's marked 'dangerous--keep out.'" "what's next on the programme, mister?" asked perk, satisfied to have come out of his little adventure with credit, and nothing like reproof from the pal whose good opinion he coveted so much. "i must leave you here for an hour or so, and keep my appointment with mr. justice, although i hardly expect him to give me anything like the full details of the work ahead of us--that must wait until we get to charleston, when everything will be laid before us; together with coast charts issued by the government from surveys carried out by experienced geographers, and which we can rely upon to the fullest extent." "i done reckons then, partner, yeou got yeour plans fixed up in case he is alayin' fo' yeou somewhars, eh, what?" jack chuckled as if amused. "i understand how you're referring to our enterprising young scribe on one of atlanta's lively papers; and especially vigilant in connection with air travel matters at candler field--nothing would please me more than to take him on, and give him a whirl or so. i think i can play my part as a millionaire sportsman to the dot, and give him a mouthful that's apt to set him wondering more than ever. i might even invite him to dine with us, say tomorrow evening at the grady here, when he will be at liberty to ask all the questions he wants about my love for outdoor sports, and so on--that would be a good joke on the slick lad, since we'll be on our way east many hours before that time." "gosh all hemlock! but say, wouldn't that be rich, though; an' what wouldn't i give to be close by, an' hear haow yeou stuffed the duffer," perk went on to gush, surveying his companion with eyes that fairly glowed with sincere admiration. "lock the door, and under no consideration allow any one to enter while i'm away. just say you're tremendously engaged, and can't be disturbed, if that everlasting busybody shows up." "huh! jest trust me to lay the same aout if he gets too fresh," grunted perk with a menacing ring to his voice. "course i wouldn't knock him any what yeoud call physically, only shut him up, an' send him off to mind his own business." "when i come back we can have another little chin, for i promise to keep you fully posted from now on, concerning everything connected with the big game. after that we'll have a full dinner, and decide about pulling out of atlanta while the going is good." "tonight, does yeou mean, partner?" queried perk, craftily. "possibly, yes," came the ready reply. "we'll take a look over the afternoon _journal_, and see what sort of flying weather is offered for the next twelve hours; and if at all favorable we can make our plans accordingly, so as to jump off before midnight. candler field is kept fully lighted nights, with so many ships of all types coming and going, on schedule and otherwise, that there'll be no difficulty about that part of the deal." "huh! which makes me remember i done got a copy o' that same paper when i was in the drugstore," explained perk, pulling it out of his pocket as he spoke; "so i kin be amusin' myself while yeou're gone. i'll suck every bit o' weather information outen the paper, bet yeour boots, so's to be all primed when yeou come back; it'll be suppertime 'baout then, an' right naow i'm feelin' them grippin' pains daown below, sech as allers warns me the fires they need stokin', so's to keep the engine workin' full speed." this arrangement pleased jack perfectly; he realized how perk was apt to be more or less "fidgetty," and it was just as well he had something to read while standing guard over their luggage, so as to keep his mind from other subjects. jack waited outside for a brief space of time, and thus heard the key being duly turned in the lock, which relieved him of any further anxiety concerning the one left behind. perk, left to his own devices, settled down in an easy-chair to make himself comfortable. beginning with the first page he read everything that had any promise of interest, applying himself particularly to such items as covered aviation matters. as is the case in these enlightened days of intense activity in air circles, he came upon a number of brief articles along those lines, all of which he absorbed with deepest interest. then for five or ten minutes he allowed himself to sit there, his mind filled with the magnitude of aerial inventions that had been sprung on the market within the last ten years; and marveled at the vast gap separating the bustling present with those lean years when he was serving his country over in france, attached to the observation corps, with their clumsy sausage balloons that could be let soar at a limited height, and then drawn down by rope and windlass when some enemy threatened their safety. arousing himself presently perk next busied himself in searching the columns of his paper for the latest weather report, especially as concerned the promises for flying craft. eventually he found what he was after, and read the report most eagerly. to his delight it seemed to be favorable throughout the coming night, a fact of considerable importance to all air mail pilots, as well as others who were contemplating going aloft while the night lasted. people passed the door of the room from time to time; and twice perk had an idea some one was fumbling at the lock; but concluded it might have been some tenant of a neighboring room, either going out, or coming in, for at least nothing suspicious followed, and he breathed easy again. the hour had just about slipped by when he caught footsteps he knew right well; as he listened he heard them stop before the locked door; then came a light tap, and he caught jack's voice: "wally, it's me--warrington, you know!" "okay, suh!" sang out the one within, as he stepped over and turned the key. "how about it, partner--anything happened since i left?" jack asked softly, after he had again turned the key in the lock. "not any; suh--an' i ketched the weather report in the dinged paper, which gives us the pleasin' information as haow it's bound to be halfway decent this same night, with wind from the southwest up at three thousand feet ceilin', which makes things look kinder promisin', i'd say, suh." "that settles it then, buddy; we'll get a move on, and climb out before twelve. might as well strike charleston with as little delay as possible, for we'll possibly have to hang around that place some time, tuning up our new crate to know its possibilities. besides, i've a feeling this town wont be big enough to hold both us, and that cub of a reporter, and keep him from whiffing some of our secrets with that inquisitive nose of his." perk grinned. "strikes me, partner, yeou done run up against that nosey critter, same like i done, aint that a fack, suh?" jack drew a card out of his vest pocket and tossed it on the table near which the pair of them were just then seated. "that's the card he pressed into my hand, with the name of his sheet on the same. we've an appointment to dine with him here at the grady tomorrow night, when he will be at liberty to ask as many questions as he pleases, connected with a rich sportsman's love for the game fields." "hot-diggetty-dig!" spluttered perk, fairly aghast; but without waiting for him to say another word jack continued, with a chuckle: "always providing we are still in atlanta at that time. yes, i gave him a nice little run for his money--led him on interesting journeyings, and along pleasant ways. he fell for it all, as far as i could judge; and probably i managed to get the fish well hooked; but they're a slippery bunch, these newspaper chaps, and can give the best detective points, to beat him in the end in solving the great mystery. i'm leery of the whole tribe, partner--you never can tell whether you're stringing them, or they are playing you, giving you line so as to bring you up with a round turn eventually. we shake off atlanta's dust by midnight, brother--and that goes!" chapter v their running schedule "hot-diggetty-dig! what a big snap i shore missed by not bein' jest 'raound the corner, alistenin' while yeou was afeedin' that tall yarn to 'im, what's the name o' that trail hound what builds up thrillin' yarns fo' the readers o' his paper to swaller?" and after taking a look at the card still lying on the table perk continued: "'james douglas keating,' huh! well, jimmy, mebbe so yeou didn't run up 'gainst a buzz saw when yeou tackled aour--er, mr. rodman warrington." "wait and see," cautioned jack; "for all i can tell that lad may have been feeding me some slick medicine when he seemed to fall for my talk so readily. i'm not going to feel dead certain i scotched the busybody until we've left atlanta and candler field well in our wake, with nothing happening to prove a give-away." "yeou would, partner--it'd be jest like yeou to say 'mebbe' till things they got ab-so-lutely certain--never yet knew yeou to jump at conclusions, so i done reckon yeou was really born to be a scientist. when do we eat, i'd like to know; things are agettin' near the danger line with me, right naow, an' there's a 'cry from macedonia, come on an' dine.'" "let's go," jack told him, reaching out for his head covering; for they had both doffed their flying clothes before quitting the ship, and were in ordinary garments that would not cause comment or unusual notice on the streets of any city. over a very bountiful dinner they continued to "talk shop" in low tones. since their table was a bit removed from any other, thanks to jack tipping the head waiter bountifully, with the orchestra playing softly, it seemed almost an impossibility for any hostile ear to catch a single word they uttered. thus perk was put in possession of further valuable information with regard to the probable field of their forthcoming adventure, jack having managed in his customary clever fashion to get hold of reading matter covering the entire romantic coast country between norfolk and savannah. "it seems to be a wonderful section, just teeming with queer people and equally strange sights; and for one i'm a bit eager to look things over. just the same, buddy, neither of us must forget even a minute the main object that's calling us into the coast skyways. we've got a man's size job on our hands, and some mighty smart people, as well as devil-may-care ones, to pack up against, so that a slip is apt to set us back, and for all we know even cost us our lives. i'm saying that not to scare any one, but because i've posted myself on the game, and know to what vile ends some of these dicks would go if they thought men of our trade were holding them under surveillance." "well, so be it, partner doant forgit i've heard the whine o' lead pills close to my ears many a time, so it's an ole story with me!" "when we manage to get in touch with one or more of the swift coast guard patrol boats things will begin to look brighter---as though there might be something doing; but that wont come along for quite some time. we've got to get things down pat, know all about the regular routine movements of those swift airships, and then begin to cut into their number--first one must mysteriously disappear, and then a second, possibly even a third. by that time we'll have certainly thrown a pretty hefty scare into the bunch, and things are bound to slacken, more or less." "speed the day, sez i, partner caint come any too quick to suit me, an' that's no lie either," saying which valorous, fire-eating perk again attacked his supper; for by this time they had reached the dessert stage, and were discussing prime apple pie, with the richest of thick cream to top it off, always one of perk's favorites, when given his choice. it will be noticed that when off duty these minions of the secret service were apt to live like kings, and with reason; for often they had to put up with scanty rations, and poor at that, when far removed from restaurant fare, and forced to live off the country. "first a feast, and then a famine," perk was accustomed to saying when jack mildly reproached him for giving so much thought to what he usually designated as "the eats." perk would have liked very well to have spent an hour or so at some theatre or other, and had even given a few hints about a screen play at the paramount but met with no encouragement from his side partner. "best for us not to make any sort of an exhibit of ourselves while we're in close quarters with that write-up newspaper chap," he told perk, who, realizing that jack meant just what he said, allowed the subject to drop. "kinder gu--er-reckon as haow yeou're 'baout right there, ole hoss," he admitted, with a slight vein of regret in his voice; "course we kin see all the picters we want when we've struck the wind-up o' aour trail--that is, providin' we're still alive, an' kickin' as usual." "that lad has got me guessing, and no mistake," jack added; "in one way i admire such persistence, especially in one of his breed, where there's a big scramble for fresh news stories; but they can make it a whole lot disagreeable for other people in the bargain. makes me think of the leeches that used to pester us by hanging on in the old swimmin' hole of my boyhood days--you just couldn't shake the blood-thirsty varments off, try as you might, they were such stickers." finishing their supper they strolled forth in a leisurely fashion, as if, as perk himself observed in his quaint way: they had "the whole evening at their disposal, with nothing to do but kill time." picking up a late evening paper on the way to their room at the henry grady hotel they settled down to be as comfortable as possible, until the time arrived to make a start. "we'll get a taxi to take us out to candler field," quoth jack, always arranging his plans with meticulous certainty; "then change to our flying togs, and get going as quietly as possible. it's to be hoped that sticking plaster wont be nosing around out there, to see some mail ship start off, or come into the airport--you never can tell about such fly-by-nights, who bob up in the most unexpected places just when you don't want to see them." "huh! yeou said it, partner," perk added, whimsically; "jest like i used to see that queer jack-o'-lantern in the country graveyard foggy nights now here, an' agin over yonder, fur all the world like a ghost huntin' fur its 'ticular stone to climb under agin." jack, having made himself comfortable, commenced glancing over the paper he had picked up, briefly scanning each page as though skimming the news. "haow 'bout the weather reports, buddy?" asked perk, later on, suppressing a big yawn, as though time was hanging somewhat heavily on his hands, being, as he always proudly declared, "a man of action." "just about the same as a while ago--no change in the predictions having come about," he told the other. "like to be no storm agoin' to slap us in the teeth, then, eh, what?" "i don't see where it could come from, it being clear in almost every direction, saving possible rain in south florida; so don't let that bother you in the least, old scout." "an' fog--haow 'bout that same, suh? i opines as haow i sorter detest fog more'n anything i know--'cept mebbe stones in my cherry pie." "no record of any fog over the air-route east," jack informed him; "and you know we mean to follow the flash beacons all the way to greenville, south carolina, where they turn off in the direction of richmond, while we shift more to the southeast by south, and head for charleston. it looks as though we'd have a nice, even flight all the way, and land in our port early tomorrow morning--without trying to make any great speed in the bargain." time passed, and it drew near the hour they had selected for their leaving the hotel. perk was a bit eager to be going, and began to pack his bag as a gentle hint to his running mate. "finish mine while about it, partner," he was told by his comrade; "while i'm down below settling our joint account, and securing a taxi. i'll be back in a short while; and then for business." "yeah! that strikes me where i live, buddy. take yeour time, an' doant come back atellin' me that pesky jimmy's squatted in the hotel lobby, alookin' over everybody as goes aout, er comes in." jack was gone as much as ten minutes, and then opened the door quietly, to have the other snatch a quick inquiring look at his face and say: "ev'rything lovely, an' the goose flyin' high, ole hoss?" "we're going to kick off right away; and so far the coast seems clear." chapter vi by the skin of their teeth once settled down in the taxi perk felt much better. he had been casting suspicious glances this way and that, eying a number of parties, as though he more than half anticipated the slick newspaper man might be hanging around the grady in some clever disguise, bent on tracking them to the aviation field. "huh! kinder guess--ev'rything's okay with us naow--glad jack didn't hear me asayin' that forbidden word, er he'd be kickin' agin. tarnel shame haow a life-long habit do stick to a guy like glue--didn't realize haow things keep acomin' an' agoin' year after year, when yeou git 'customed to doin' the same." perk was muttering this to himself half under his breath as the taxi took off, and immediately headed almost straight toward the quarter where the fast growing candler field lay outside the thickly populated part of atlanta. he was just about to thrust his head out of the open upper part of the door on the left side when jack jerked him violently back. "hey! what in thunder--" "shut up! and lie back!" hissed the other, almost savagely. "gosh-a-mighty! was _he_ hangin' 'raound after all?" gasped the startled perk, who could think of but one reason for the other treating him so unceremoniously. jack had turned, and was trying to see through the dimmed glass--he even rubbed it hastily with his hand as if to better the chances of an observation; but as they whirled around a corner gave it up as next to useless. "it was _that boy_ all right, and making straight for the hotel in the bargain; which proves he'd located our layout okay," he explained to the excited perk. "doant tell me he done spotted us, partner?" "i don't just know," came back the answer, hesitatingly. "i thought i'd yanked you back before he looked our way; but as sure as anything he came to a full stop, and stared after our taxi. for all we know he may be jumping for some kind of conveyance to follow at our heels." "hot-diggetty-dig! but things shore _air_ gettin' some int'restin' like, i'd say, if yeou asked me, boy! an' even if he keeps on agoin' to the grady the night clerk'll tell him as haow we done kicked aout. kinder wish we was a zoomin' long on aour course, an' givin' jimmy the horse laugh. caint yeou git the shover to speed her along a little, ole hoss?" "we're already hitting up the pace as far as safety would advise," jack told him, as they both swayed over to one side, with another corner being taken on the jump. "it'd spill the beans if we had any sort of accident on the way to the ship; better let well enough alone, partner." "huh! the best speed a rackabones o' a taxi kin make seems like crawlin' to any airman used to a hundred miles an hour, an' heaps more'n that," grumbled the never satisfied perk; but just the same it might be noticed that jack did not attempt to urge the chauffeur to increase their speed at the risk of some disaster, such as skidding, when turning a sharp corner. on the way perk amused himself by taking various peeps from the rear, gluing his eye to the dingy glass. since he raised no alarm it might be taken for granted he had made no discovery worth mentioning; and in this manner they presently arrived at the flying field, which they found fully illuminated, as though some ship was about to land, or another take off. this suited them exactly, as it would be of considerable help in bringing about their own departure. jumping out jack paid the driver, and after picking up their bags they hastened in the direction of the hangar in which they had been assured their ship was to be placed. a new field service motor truck was moving past them, evidently bent on servicing some plane about to depart east, west, north or south; which perk eyed with admiration; for he knew what a comfort it was to have one of these up-to-date contraptions swing alongside, and carry out all the necessary operations of fitting a ship out, which in the old days had to be done by hand, with the assistance of field hostlers. "anyhaow, we doant need a single thing to set us on aour way, which is some comfort," he remarked to his mate as they arrived at their destination. while jack was making all arrangements for their big fokker to be taken out of the hangar, and brought in position for taking off, perk continued to look eagerly around him, as usual deeply interested in all that went on in connection with a popular and always growing airport, of which candler field was a shining example. "by gum! if there aint one o' them new-fangled air mail flags, painted on the fuselege o' that southern air fast express ship gettin' ready to pick off; an' say, aint she a beaut though--regulation wings in yellow, with the words 'u. s. air mail', an' the upper an' lower borders marked with red an' blue painted lines. gosh! i'd be some proud naow to be handlin' sech a nifty ship in the service i onct worked by; but no use kickin', what i'm adoin' these days is heaps more important fo' ole uncle sam than jest acarry'n' his letter sacks. an' mebbe that ship means to head back jest where we come from, los angeles, an' san diego, by way o' dallas, texas. haow they keep askippin' all araoun' this wide kentry, day an' night, like grasshoppers on a sunny perairie--the times o' magic have shore come to us folks in the year nineteen thirty-one." other sights greeted his roving eyes as he held himself impatiently in check waiting for jack to give him the word to start. both of them had hurriedly changed their clothes, and were now garbed in their customary working dungarees, stained with innumerable marks of hard service, yet indispensable to those who followed their calling. it certainly did not take long for their ship to be trundled out on to the level field, and brought into position for taking off. there was considerable of a gathering, considering that it was now so late in the night; and perk, giving a stab at the fact, came to the conclusion there was something out of the common being, as he termed it, "pulled off"--possibly the presence of that beautiful emblem of the air mail service on the fuselage of the western bound mail and express matter carrier had to do with the occasion--a sort of honorary christening, so to speak--he was content to let it go at that. jack was still talking with some one he seemed to know, some one who must surely be a fellow pilot, for he was dressed in regulation dingy overalls, and kept hovering near that fine multi-motored curtiss kingbird plane that he, perk, understood belonged to the new fleet of the line to be operated in a short time between atlanta and miami, florida, carrying passengers, the mail, and express between the two airports. thus far there had been no sign of the ubiquitous newspaper man, and perk continued to bolster up his hope this might continue to be the case to the very moment of their departure. it would be a bit exasperating should the fellow suddenly burst upon them, jumping out of a taxi, and tackling jack with a beastly shower of questions that were suited to the ends he had in view of building up a fanciful story that must tickle the palates of the numerous readers of his department on aviation in the paper he served. there, thank their lucky stars, was his companion giving the wished for call for him to stand by, as everything was fixed for immediate departure. in less than three minutes they would be taking the air, and leaving lighted candler field behind them--once that happy event had taken place and they could snap their fingers derisively at any attempt on the part of their determined annoyer to give them trouble. "huh! it's to be hoped the pesky guy doant take a notion to hire a ship, an' try to stick to aour tail, ashoutin' aout his crazy questions like he spected us to done hole up, an' hand him his story on a plate! kinder gu--reckon as haow there aint much danger 'long them lines--it'd be a whole lot too hard fur him to manage. okay, suh, right away!" as perk was supposed to be a pilot in the employ of mr. rodman warrington, of course it was only right for him to be at the throttle of the ship when they took off. accordingly he hastened to settle down in his seat where he could grip the controls, and manipulate things in the dash along the field that would wind up in a swing upwards toward the starry heavens. having given a last hasty inspection of his gadgets, and the numerous dials as arranged on the black dashboard before him, perk called out, the propeller started to roar and spin like lightning; and in that very last second of time, as the ship commenced to leap forward, perk caught a glimpse of the man whom they had believed left in the lurch--no other than jimmy himself! chapter vii on the air-line to charleston jimmy was leaping from a taxi that had come whirling almost up to the spot where their ship was in the act of taking off. perk in that hasty look--when truth to tell he had no business to be taking his eyes away from his course ahead, lest he make a slip that would upset all their calculations--had seen the printer's ink man heading in leaps toward their plane--yes, and sure enough he was holding a pad of paper in one hand, and doubtless a sharpened pencil in the other, a typical up-to-the-minute knight of the press bent on snatching up his facts on the run. then perk--still paying strict attention to his special task--gave a grunt of satisfaction, coupled with derision. to himself he must have been thinking, if not saying, "that's the time we jest made a slick get-away by the skin o' aour teeth--yeou're five seconds too late, jimmy, boy--try some o' yeour tricks on slower game, not we-uns. whoopla! here she goes!" as they were just then about to leave the ground and start their upward climb of course it was absolutely out of the question for the one holding the stick to twist his head around so as to see what their tormentor was doing; but then he felt certain jack must be taking in everything that occurred, and in good time he would be told of each little incident. perk had his instructions, and knew just what he was doing. accordingly, when the ship had reached a comfortable ceiling of say half a thousand feet, he banked, and swung around so as to head toward the southwest. "shore thing," perk was telling himself, in a spirit of pride and astuteness. "sense the gent's is aimin' to git a black bear in them canebrakes o' ole louisiana, we gotter be headin' thataways at the start. hoopla! aint it jest the limit, apullin' the wool over the eyes o' one o' the darnedest sharpest newspaper boys as ever was?" it had been arranged that they were to keep on that course for a brief time, and when sufficient distance had been covered--so that the hum of their exhaust could no longer be heard at candler field--they would change to another quarter, swing around the distant city, pick up the light at stone mountain, and from that point industriously follow the beacons that flashed every ten miles or so all the way to richmond, virginia. jack soon displaced his assistant pilot at the controls, and perk was able to take hold of other special duties, such as were usually left to his direction. one of the very first things he carried out was to attach the harness of the invaluable telephone, that, when connected with their ears allowed of such exchange of views as they saw fit to indulge in; and perk was burning up with eagerness to find out what jack must have seen after they made their start. the big ship was speeding at a merry clip, and before long stone mountain would be reached with the first beacon flashing its welcome light to beckon them on their well marked course. "was that _him_ as i guess--reckoned i done seed, jest as we started to move, hey, partner?" perk demanded; and as jack knew only too well he would have no peace until he handed over such information as he possessed, he lost no time in making answer. "no other, brother--he came in a taxi, and was in such a hurry it's plain to be seen he'd picked up a clew at the hotel that sent him whooping things up, and burning the minutes until he got there at candler field. unfortunately--for jimmy--he dallied a half minute too long, trying to get some lead from that night clerk, and so we slipped one off on him." "yeou doant reckon as haow he'd be so brash as to hire a ship, to try an' sit on aour tail, do yeou, ole hoss?" demanded perk, who had even looked back once or twice, as though such a possibility had begun to bother him. "not a chinaman's chance of such a happening, wally--we've got a clear field ahead of us, and i feel pretty certain that's the last we'll see of our friend jimmy. just the same, leave it to him to concoct a thrilling yarn to feed to his readers to-morrow morning--imagination will supply the missing facts; and i'd like to set eyes on what he hatches up." "me too, partner," echoed perk, greedily; "an' if it's possible while we hang aout araound charleston i'm meanin' to look up all the atlanta papers, and read all the air news they carry." "go to it, partner; but that must be stone mountain over there on our larboard quarter; look sharp, and you'll glimpse a flashing light, for we're about to pick up our first beacon." "bully for that, 'cause afterwards it'll be the softest sailin' ever, with aour course charted aout fur us most all the way." "i'm holding her down a bit," explained jack, "because we'd better stick to the beacons until dawn; after that we can depend on our compass and chart to carry us the rest of the way to charleston." "i get yeou, ole hoss, an' agree with yeou to a hair. no hurry whatever, yeou done tole me the chief sez in his cipher letter o' instructions--slow an' sure, that's agoin' to be aour motto this campaign," and jack must have chuckled to hear the impetuous perk say that, it was so foreign to his customary way of rushing things. the line of beacons was now picked up, and perk could see sometimes as many as three at the same time--the one they were passing over; that left behind shortly before; and still a third faint flash at some distance beyond. they had climbed to a ceiling of some two thousand feet, which might still be increased when passing over such outspurs of the allegheny or smoky range mountains as would be met on the regular air mail course to richmond. as the air seemed unusually free from any vestige of fog, being very clear, of course visibility was prime, which fact added to perk's happiness, he being unduly fond of such favorable weather conditions. such a voluble chap could not keep silent long, when it was so easy to chat with an accommodating companion; and hence presently perk found something else to mention to the working pilot. "i say, partner," he sang out, "tell me who yeour friend was, the pilot i seen yeou talkin' with, an' who sure seemed to be 'quainted with yeou." "knew you had that question up your sleeve, buddy," jack replied, always ready to satisfy any reasonable amount of curiosity on the part of his chum, "yes, he was an old friend of mine, and i expect you've heard me speak of him more than a few times--one of the most adept pilots connected with the curtiss people,--no other than doug davis, who back in twenty-nine won the country's speed race at cleveland, with a record of a hundred-and-ninety miles an hour." "gee whiz! haow i'd liked to amet up with him!" exclaimed perk, showing a trace of keen disappointment in his tone. "i'd have introduced you, partner, only the conditions wouldn't admit it." jack threw out as a bit of apology. "but, say--what if that speed hound, jimmy, happened to learn he was atalkin' with yeou, wouldn't your friend doug be apt to give us away, withaout knowin' the reasons why we wanted to keep shady right naow?" jack gave him the laugh. "not on your life, buddy," he announced, without hesitation; "i managed to let doug know what line i was in, and how just at present i'm a new york millionaire sportsman and aviator, rodman warrington by name, headed toward some shooting-grounds for a whack at big game. he's a lad you could never catch asleep at the switch; and make up your mind our secret's as safe with him as anything could be. jimmy'd have all his trouble for his pains, if he ever tried to pump doug davis, who's as keen as they make them in our line." "but, partner, didn't he introduce yeou to another pilot--i reckon i seen him adoin' that same, an' heow yeou shook hands with the other guy." "yes, but i'd already tipped doug off, and he strung his friend with the story we've hatched up about our meaning to try the shooting in those wonderful canebrakes in louisiana. and that's all he'll ever tell connected with my identity, till the cows come home, or water runs uphill." "an' who did the other chap happen to be, if it's a fair question, suh?" continued perk, who, once he started on an investigating tour, never would let go until he had extracted every particle of information available. "sorry that i didn't catch his name clearly; but doug told me he was connected with the u. s. air reserve corps operations functioning there at candler field," jack explained. he certainly stirred up something when he said that. "well, well, what dye know 'baout that naow," gushed perk, apparently thrilled more or less by what he had just heard. "i've been gettin' wind o' that ere movement, and meanin' to look it up whenever the chanct drifted along." "a most interesting subject, buddy, and one i'd think you'd want to look into, seeing you're a veteran of flying in the great war over in france, and could join without any trouble. from what doug told me, and what i've read concerning the game, the organization is growing stronger every day--made up of men especially fitted to step in and man fighting planes, should any occasion arise, such as another foreign war. right in the southeast district there are something over two-hundred-and-thirty pilot members, who could be mustered by uncle sam in an emergency, just twenty-two of whom belong in atlanta, doug told me." "wheel haow fine that'd be fo' a feller o' my makeup," perk chortled, in glee. "i done gue--reckons, suh, as haow they may have meetin's, an' all that sorter thing--how 'baout it, partner?" "that's one of the necessary things about the air reserve officers corps," continued jack who evidently considered the organization an especially fine thing for the airminded public to support. "all through the winter they meet twice a week in classes, to keep up with modern military and aviation activities; and they get their new up-to-date flying experience by taking off in one of five army training ships kept ready in the new reserve hangar at candler field--these are an oil curtiss falcon regular attack plane; a -b douglass dual control basic training ship, with horsepower engines; and three other primary training ships. all the equipment connected with the fourth corps hangar is at atlanta headquarters,--so doug told me, and he ought to know if any one does." "gee whiz! an' to think o' what i been missin' all this time," moaned poor perk, disconsolately. "mebbe though it wouldn't ever do to apply fo' admission to such a organization, 'jest 'cause we-uns gotter to hid aour light under a bushel, while serving aour uncle sam in his ole secret service. dye know i got half a mind to throw it all up, an' go back to carryin' the air mail, when a guy could show his own face, an' not live under a dark cloud;--but not so long as _yeou_ sticks on the job, partner, i doant break away ever." chapter viii ships passing in the night they were by this time fully embarked on their night flight, perk continued to watch the flash beacons as though they fascinated him, more or less. "what i'd call a big snap, if anybody asked me," he kept telling himself from time to time. "huh! when i was an air-mail pilot fur a short time, things wasn't so dead easy--not a blamed light on earth or in the sky, nawthin' but black stuff every-which-way yeou looked. naow the guy at the stick jest keeps afollerin' a string o' blinkin' 'lectric lights that point aout his course fur him. purty soft, i'd call it, an' no mistake either." when they were passing directly over one beacon that kept blinking at them apparently, with about ten seconds between each flash, he could by turning his head, see a far-away swirling gleam marking the light in their rear; while dead ahead another, equally distant, kept up an enticing flash as though bent on assuring them everything was "all right." "jest one thing still wantin' to make these here air-mail boys right happy," he told himself; "which is a ray to beat the danged fog that mixes things up like fun. when some wise guy finds a way to send a ray o' light through the dirty stuff, so's yeou kin see a mile away as if the air was clear as a bell, then flyin' blind is agoin' to lose all its terrors to the poor pilot. i shorely hopes to see the day that's done." later on perk suddenly made a discovery that gave him a little fresh thrill--there was some sort of queer light almost dead ahead, that he fancied moved more or less; at any rate it was steadily growing brighter, beyond any question. "hot-diggetty-dig!" he muttered, still watching critically, as if hardly able to make up his mind concerning its meaning. "looks mighty like a shootin' star; but then i never did see one that didn't dart daown, like it meant to bury itself in the earth. must be a ship aheadin' this way--mebbe a mail carrier goin' to atlanta to land on the same candler field we jest quitted--yep, that's what it is, with a light in the cabin to keep the passengers from worryin'--sandbags ain't any too joyful when they got to sit in the dark, with the ship hittin' up eighty miles an hour." having thus settled the identity of the strange moving light, perk hastened to inform his mate of the discovery he had made. "ship's agoin' to pass us in the night, buddy," he called through the aid of the indispensable earphones. "yeou kin lamp the light straight ahead naow." "yes, i'd already noticed the same, partner," came steady jack's answer, as if he were not in the least disturbed, or excited by the occurrence. "gee whiz! but i shore hopes we doant meet head on, an' crash," ventured perk, really to coax his chum to express an opinion, and thus reassure him. "no danger of that happening, old scout!" snapped jack; "but i'll veer off to starboard a bit, to make doubly sure against a possible collision. strike up our cabin light, boy, so's to put them on their guard." of course they could not catch the slightest sound to corroborate their opinion, since their own ship was making so much racket. the light came closer and closer; at the same time jack felt positive the other aerial craft must be following his own tactics looking to safety, and steering somewhat to the right, as discretion demanded. perk had snatched up a kerosene lantern and hastily lighted the wick. this he now moved up and down; then swung the same completely around his head, as though he thus meant to give the other pilot a signal in the line of fellowship and aerial courtesy. thus the two ships passed not three hundred feet apart, yet only vaguely seen by watchful eyes. then they were swallowed up in the gloom of the night, the moon being under a passing cloud at the time. "fancy aour meetin' in space," perk was saying, as though rather awed by such a circumstance; "it couldn't happen again in a month o' blue moons, aour comin' to grips thisaway, with millions o' miles all 'raound us, an' nawthin' but chance to guide both pilots." "you're on the wrong track again, partner," jack hastened to tell him. "chance had little to do with this meeting; but that chain of brilliant flash beacons was wholly responsible. just like two trains passing on a double-track railroad line--both airships were following the same marked course, and couldn't hardly miss meeting each other. in these latter days flying has become so systematized that the element of chance has been almost wholly eliminated from the game." that remark kept perk silent for some little time, the subject thus brought up was so vast, so filled with tremendous possibilities, he found himself wrestling with it as the minutes crept on. so, too the night was passing by degrees, with their reliable fokker keeping steadily on its way, putting miles after miles in their wake. perk found himself growing more and more anxious for the first streak of coming dawn to show itself far off in the east, where the sun must be climbing toward the unseen horizon, and daylight making ready to disperse the cohorts of night. still it was always possible for him to make out the next beacon, with the aid of his binoculars, if he happened to be using them, as was often the case. an hour and more after their "rubbing elbows" (as perk termed it,) with the south-bound air-mail plane, once more perk caught a suggestive beam of light ahead that told of yet another aircraft afloat, and advancing swiftly toward them, only at a much lower altitude. "naow i wonder who _that_ guy kin be," he mused, while watching the light grow steadily larger. "some kinder big ship in the bargain; but hardly one o' the mail line, 'cause they doant run 'em in doubles the same way. hi! there, partner, we got a second neighbor, agoin' to pass under us in a minit er so. jest a bit to the left--no danger o' bangin' noses this time, seems like. gettin' to be thickly populated, as the ole pioneer settler said when a new fambly moved in 'baout ten mile off. mebbe we'll live to see the day when the air o' night'll be studded with movin' lights thick as the stars be--looks thataways to me, anyhaow." again he signaled his good wishes with his lantern, showing as much glee as a schoolboy whirling around his first fire spitting roman candle, on the night of the glorious fourth. "gee whiz! looky, partner--they're answerin' me, as shore's yeou're born! this is gettin' somewhere, i'd say; an' i'd give thirty cents to know who that guy might be." "just as well there's no way to exchange cards," sensible jack told the excited one. "never forget for a minute, partner, who and what we are; and how it's a prime part of this business to keep our light hidden under a bushel right along. others flying for sport, or carrying on in commerce, may get a thrill from exchanging names, and hobnobbing with each other; but all that stuff is strictly taboo with men of the secret service." "squelched again!" perk told himself, with one of his chuckles; "an' jest as always happens, jack, he's in the right--i'm forgettin' most too often what goes to make up a successful officer of the government, 'specially in aour line o' trade. guess--i mean i reckons as haow i'll have to subside, and take it aout in thinkin'." perk was certain they must have long since passed over the eastern extremity of georgia, and were even then swinging along with south carolina soil beneath them. yes, and he began to figure that he could detect the faintest possible rim of light commencing to show up far off to the east, as though dawn could not be far away. "huh! aint agoin' to be many more o' them bully flash beacons lightin' us on aour course," he was telling himself. "chances air we'll be bustlin' over aour objective right soon; when it's goodbye to the air-mail route, an' us a turnin' aour noses near due south, headin' fo' charleston on the seaboard, when the real fun is slated to begin. caint come any too quick fo' a boob that answers to the name o' gabe perkiser. yeah! that line is gettin' some broader, right along, which tells the story as plain as print." shortly afterwards he picked up a myriad of gleaming lights, that proclaimed the presence of a city of some magnitude; evidently the first sector of their flight had been reached, with a change in their course indicated. chapter ix when the dawn came "kinder looks like we'd hit civilization again, eh, ole hoss?" with the dawn coming along thus high up above the surface of the earth, it was still night down below, save where numerous electric lights, on the streets, and along the railroad lines, especially within the limits of the yards, dispelled the shadows. some of these were continually shifting; and since jack had dropped down latterly until they were not more than five hundred feet above the level ground, only for their hearing being overwhelmed by the noise of their own speeding ship, they might have easily heard the puffing of switching engines, together with the rumble of many freight cars, possibly the loud whistles of some factory warning its employees it was time for them to be thinking of getting their breakfast, preparatory to another long spell in the cotton mills, or other places of labor. "here's greenville, where we strike off on our own," jack announced, as he made a right turn, and depending entirely upon the needle of the compass, took up a new line of flight--no signalling for switches, puffing of a steam engine for a start, nothing save a turn of the wrist; and without the least friction the airship was heading in the direction of charleston, still far distant as the crow flies. the lights began to grow dim in their rear, and before long the last vestige of the bustling south carolina city faded out of sight. but undoubtedly the dawn was steadily advancing, so that already perk had been able to get fugitive glimpses of the ground they were so steadily passing over. he knew he would be feeling better when able to watch the panorama spread out like a vast chart under the swiftly speeding air craft, with towns, villages, and hamlets following in each other's train; the country itself dotted with innumerable cabins occupied by negro workers of the wide stretching plantations, where cotton, corn, and perhaps tobacco, would appear to be the staple crops harvested. it was indeed worth while watching when daylight came upon the surface of the earth, and the sun could be seen in all his glory by those who had the privilege of an elevated observatory. perk settled himself down for a period of "loafing," having no particular duties needing attention. his main thought was concerned with the fact that they were swiftly passing over south carolina, and getting closer to their main objective, where the remainder of their orders would be handed over to them as per prearranged agreement. he indulged in numerous speculations as to just when and how jack would make his attack upon the entrenched forces of the defiant clique, latterly giving uncle sam so much bother; and persisting in their thus far successful smashing of the patrol boat blockade along the coast, through the agency of numerous swift air smuggling craft--how many there might be perk had no knowledge. well, just wait until he and his best pal got fairly started in the good work, and possibly some of those defiant pilots would be numbered among the "has beens," having mysteriously vanished from the ken of their fellow law-breakers. "i shore doant want to brag," perk told himself, as modestly as he could find the heart to be; "but jest the same i been along with jack more'n a few times, when we run up agin sech gay birds; an' it was allers the same ole story over an' over agin. right naow a good many cells in atlanta, leavenworth, an' a few more penitentiaries air filled by lads what reckoned nawthin' could beat 'em at their pet game; yet there they be, behind stone walls, an' nary one chanct in a thousand to break away. huh! hope hist'ry repeats in this new adventure we're right naow embarkin' on, that's all." such confidence in a comrade bordered on the sublime, yet according to his light perk felt he was justified in believing jack to be at the head of his class--without a peer, yet modest withal, shrinking from praise, and content to let the heroes of unsurpassed air flights, as well as all manner of broken records for speed, endurance, and like exploits, bask in the spotlight, while he was satisfied to do his full duty, and afterwards remain unknown to fame. jack apparently still had a little fear lest something his best pal managed to do, when off his guard, might throw all their labors into the discard. on this account, and because they were now bearing down close to an important point in their schedule, he took occasion to once more delicately hint along such lines. "for perhaps the last time, partner," he went on to say, soberly; "we've both got to get a firm grip on ourselves, and try to actually _live_ the parts we're about to play. let's consider we're actors, with a critical audience in front, watching closely to see if we leave any break back of which our real character may be seen." "huh! i like thataway o' puttin' it, big boss," snorted perk, without the slightest hesitation; although he must have suspected that jack was trying to impress this point particularly on his, perk's mind--"i'll try my darnedest to keep athinkin' a thousand eyes and ears they be on to me, searchin' fo' some knothole in the fence to peep through, an' gimme the laugh straight. go on an' say some more 'long them lines, buddy--i kin stand it okay." "an actor to be a success must have the power, the ability to throw off his own ways and character, to assume whatever queer quirks marking the role of the person he is pretending to be. try and forget you were yankee born, and swap places with a son of dixie, filled with veneration for those heroes in gray, soldiers of lee, jackson, forrest, and all the other leaders of the sacred lost cause. you can do it, i'm dead certain, if you keep your mind steadfastly on that business alone, and forget a lot of other less essential matters." "shore i kin, an' i mean to, partner--yeou wait up an' see haow i'll pull the wool over their eyes--i'm wally corkendall, an' i was borned an' brought up in birmin'ham, where them bully stories o' the colored folks that make yeou laugh like fun keep acomin' from right along. yessuh! i done tole yeou i may be a man o' the world; but dixie is my dwellin'-place, birmin'ham my ole hometown." so jack let it go at that, and indulged in the hope his pal would not fall down in a pinch--it meant a matter of life and death with them, in view of the desperate type of men with whom they would soon be at close grips. chapter x ready to strike up to then everything had been comparatively simple; but the worst was yet to come. they could not do more than guess as to the nature of the dangers and difficulties lying in ambush to trip them up. for aught they knew long weeks, crowded with perils and narrow escapes, would be their portion; with the crowning possibility of final disaster hanging over their heads day and night. it was this uncertainty that made their job all the more attractive and thrilling to the comrades--in particular to perk, whose restless soul seemed never to be content to loll in idleness and safety; but yearned to meet up with all manner of weird scrapes, that for the time being satisfied the burning desire of his feverish blood. perhaps that was his heritage, coming down from those ancestors who settled in new england, at the time america was a british colony; and when dread of indian massacres kept every one's blood keyed up to the extreme; then again it might be perk got it from his contact with the front line trenches in the great war, where he may have been gassed, wounded, and lived the horrible existence that so many of our gallant boys did in the fierce battles of the argonne--himself, he never bothered his head to figure out whence the feeling came--he only knew he had it, and fairly reveled in what he was pleased to term _action_; but which really stood for deadly peril. it can thus be seen how perk was making his life work along the right line for one of his disposition; since it would be difficult indeed to mention any other vocation where a man would do his daily stunt face to face with some calamity. he continued to look down at the checkerboard below, admiring this, grunting his disgust at another spectacle, and many times glancing impatiently at his wrist-watch, as though he could thus hasten the hour and minute when they would be landing at their present destination. jack, on his part, while carrying out his ordinary duties as pilot, was running over in his active mind the various duties that must await their reaching the landing field in charleston. first, after seeing their ship safely stowed away in a convenient hangar--where it would stay until needed again, if ever--he must call at the post office for any letters that might have been sent on--under his assumed name, of course; after which it would be his business to drop in upon the government agent, from whom he would receive further secret instructions, as well as every scrap of information possible, such as would be of assistance in laying out and following up their plan of action. it pleased jack to know how every detail was being carried out with the prime motive of abject secrecy--for instance, he had been instructed _never_ to call at the office of the revenue official, since spies might have it under surveillance, and hold such a swell caller under suspicion--on the contrary the gentleman's private residence had been mentioned as the place of meeting; and the secret cipher of the department must be invariably used should an exchange of letters become necessary. he was to call at the house in the capacity of a distant relative of mr. casper herriott in the city while _en route_ to other places along the atlantic seaboard, especially in the way of shooting grounds; he being a famous sportsman--perk was not only his dependable pilot, but a skillful guide as well, fully acquainted with most of the sporting grounds of the great sounds and bays along north and south carolina shores. jack found himself smiling to remember how his companion had at one time delicately hinted that since the government had been so kind as to supply them with all manner of lovely guns, ammunition, and even shooting clothes and tempting high leather boots, all costing rafts of money, it might be possible for them to better carry out their assumed characters by indulging in a little foray among the canvasback ducks, mallards, and even wild geese--also remarking how it would be much too bad if, having been given the name, they might not also grab a handful of the game! already had jack commenced to take copious notes, mental, as well as written down in his new notebook--in the secret code of course--and he expected to add copiously to this record after he had interviewed mr. herriott, and drank in all that gentleman would have to tell him. besides that he would try to paint a complete chart on his mind, covering the lay of the land along the coast, its innumerable indentations covering the shores of the great sounds, albemarle, pamlico and others--also that section of swamps and morasses lying further south, where he already strongly suspected the main part of their work awaited them. already he had pored for hours over the government geographical coast survey charts, which, with others were contained in the waterproof case aboard the ship, and had proven their worth on a number of previous occasions; but as he could not hope to always have these at hand for reference, jack meant to carry along a mental picture of the entire region, a feat impossible, save to him whom the gods had favored with a wonderfully retentive memory, made next to perfect from long practice. up to then the most that jack knew in connection with his work was that it must mean the shattering of a gigantic conspiracy, backed by a number of wealthy but unscrupulous citizens; who probably depended upon some real or fancied "pull" to get them through in safety if they were ever indicted, which they had every reason was next to impossible. the scope of this league, jack also understood, was almost boundless--all manner of efforts were being put into practice daily, in order to cheat uncle sam out of his "rake-off" upon various dutiable foreign goods--diamonds, other precious stones on which the treasury department levied high sums when imported openly; rich laces; high priced cuban cigars, and a multitude of similar goods mostly small in bulk, that could be easily transported undetected aboard swift airplanes, making secret landings amidst the almost untrodden wilds of that eastern shore! then there must be a continuation of the old smuggling game--that of fetching cargoes of the finest wet goods obtainable at some station of the west indies; only the landing places had been transferred from the vicinity of tampa and miami, when those ports were too heavily policed to admit of taking the desperate chances involved; and were now transplanted to south carolina territory, where they seemed to be working without the slightest molestation, with a daily flood of stuff being safely landed. it was hinted that this powerful rival of the government was going even a step farther--carrying undesirable aliens from cuba across to the land they were so eager to reach, that they paid enormous sums for the privilege of being flown across the stretch of salt water--these were not only chinamen, but italians as well, criminals who had been chased from their own country by the alert fascist authorities as enemies of the realm, and saw in rich america the mecca where they could soon acquire great wealth at easy pickings by eventually becoming beer barons, racketeers, and the like; after passing through a brief school course as ordinary bootleggers, and hi-jackers. "some job, believe me!" jack summed up his reflections by saying, drawing in a long breath at the same time; and then following it all up with a laugh, as though even such a monumental task failed to dismay him. "cap, i kinder reckon we're right smart near charleston, to jedge from thet bank o' smoke lying on ahead. i been keepin' tabs o' the miles we left behind us, an' it shore do tally with the distance marked on yeour map." "i feel certain you're okay when you mention that same, matey," jack assured the other; which commendatory remark caused perk to look as pleased as a child when handed an all-day lollypop to suck on. "hot-diggetty-dig! it makes me happy to know as haow the waitin' game's 'baout all in naow, an' we're agwine--haow's that, buddy--to jump into action, and then more action. me, i'm some hungry, partner; but mebbe it aint wise to take a snack when we're so clost to aour airport, with a landin' comin' along soon, an' real restaurant eats aloomin' up in the bargain." "try to hold your horses for half an hour or more, and i promise that you'll be filled up to the limit, regardless of expense. and now begin to live, breathe, and act as a dixie bred man would do, ready to knock anybody flat who'd be so brash as to say one insulting word about your native southland." "the finest country god ever did make, barrin' none, suh; and don't yeou forgit it; but i kin see the airport a'ready, partner, off to the left a bit." chapter xi where war once broke out shortly afterwards the two adventurers found themselves looking down at as entrancing an air picture as it would be possible to conceive; with charleston harbor stretching out to its furtherest extent before them. "see that island over yonder, partner," said the admiring perk, pointing as he spoke; "i kinder--reckons naow as haow that might be where ole fort sumter stood, durin' the war 'tween the states--yeou knows weuns daown hyah allers speaks o' that little flareup that way, 'stead o' callin' it the civil war." "so i understood, wally, and i'm glad to find out you're so well posted on such facts, as it strengthens your position considerably. when you're in dixie it's just as well to follow the crowd, and do as all true southerners do." it was a charming morning, the air "salubrious," as perk said more than once, and everything seemed favorable to the success of their great undertaking--as far as they had gone, which was not anything to boast of. perk had already pointed out the landing field they were aiming to patronize, and of course the pilot circled the stretch several times, as he began to lose his altitude. there was but little wind, and that favorable for making a successful landing. then, too, a number of men had started to run toward the spot where indications pointed to their touching the ground, so they would not lack for any assistance required. but jack swung a trifle, and made contact shortly ahead of the foremost runner; the gliding, bumping ship gradually came to a complete stop, and both of them had hopped out of their cabin by the time several runners, breathing heavily from their exertions, reached the spot. jack was as suave and smiling as ever, a faculty that always made him "hail fellow well met" with most people. he picked out a party bearing the appearance of one in authority, and who, seeing his friendly nod, hastened up, holding out his hand with real southern warmth. "welcome to charleston, suh," he observed as they clasped hands, evidently understanding that the new arrival was not familiar with the ground, being apparently a stranger to the airport; which in itself was nothing remarkable in these days of fast increasing aviation strides, with new people coming and going on the up-to-date airways almost every day. "my name is warrington, and i am from new york city, down here for the shore shooting. this is my pilot and guide, wally corkendall, from birmingham, alabama. i wish to set my fokker in a safe hangar for an indefinite space of time, for we shall have to make use of an amphibian during our month of sport, as it will be necessary to make many a night's camp on the waters of your wonderful bays and rivers. would you kindly put me in touch with the party who has charge of such arrangements; i should expect to pay a week in advance and continue the same during the time of my stay." that could be easily arranged, since it happened he himself was in charge of all such matters, the gentleman courteously informed his new guest; apparently sizing jack up as a young man of wealth, willing to pay the price, no matter how much it cost, in order to enjoy himself to the utmost. so the ship was properly housed, and jack took pains to observe a lock on the doors, for which one of two keys was handed to him later on, after he had stepped over to the office, and finished arrangements by paying the sum agreed upon. "anything we can do to help make your stay in our city pleasant, suh, you can depend on it we shall be only too delighted to do," said the gentleman, as the taxi which he had ordered came along, to take them to the hotel he had recommended as a quiet restful place, with a genuine old-fashioned southern table known far and wide by travelers, and now being patronized by many air-minded tourists. perk had carried himself most commendably; this was easily done since he never once opened his mouth to say a single word, only grinned amiably whenever the courteous master of ceremonies said anything complimentary. they were speedily booming along toward the adjacent city, with curious perk bobbing his head this way and that, eager to see anything and everything that came in sight. "say, haow fine it seems to know yeou're onct again back in yeour native clime," perk observed, talking rather loud, possibly for the chauffeur to catch, and then again because he was still a bit deaf, after so many hours with the clamor of a running airship ding-donging in his ears much of the time. "talk 'bout yeour beautiful north, in my 'pinion it doant hold a candle to aour sunny south, with its balmy air, the songs o' the mockin'-birds, the merry laughter o' the niggers, an' a thousand other things yeou never do forgit." "oh! you dixie boys are all alike--nothing can ever wean you from your love for cotton fields, tobacco plantations, sugarcane brakes, and all such typical things of the south; but i like to hear you talk that way, wally; it's in the blood, and can't be eradicated." "yes suh, that's what i reckon it shore is," and perk relapsed into silence, possibly to ponder over that last word of jack's, and try to get its true meaning. he was soon deeply interested in what he saw, for charleston is full of wonderful sights, to northern eyes at least--fully on a par with quaint new orleans, and mobile--the iron lattices fronting many old-fashioned houses with double galleries--the churches that date back two hundred years at least, with their burial grounds filled with dingy looking stones and monuments, on which could be found chiseled numerous famous names of families connected with the history of this typical sub-tropical city--and occasional glimpses could be caught of that wonderful bay which is charleston's pride and boast. at the hotel they were speedily ensconced in a double room that boasted two beds--jack usually looked to having things arranged that way when feasible, as perk was a nervous sleeper, and apt to fling his arm across the face of any one alongside. it also afforded them a splendid view from the windows. "i shore do hope, partner, you're reckonin' on aour havin' some fodder 'fore we tackle any business; 'case my tummy it's agrowlin' somethin' fierce; so i jest caint hold aout much longer an' feel peaceable--have a heart, buddy, fo' a guy what was born hungry, and gets thataway five times every day." "that's all right, perk," he was told, with a smile; "here are our bags, and we can fix up a bit, for i feel that a bath would do me a heap of good. suppose we get busy, and by the time we look civilized again it will be twelve, which you remember the clerk told us was when the doors of the diningroom were thrown open." "gee! i only hope i kin hold aout till then," lamented poor perk; "when i lamped the window display o' a boss restaurant while we come along i had a yen to jump aout, an' duck into the same, things looked so tantalizin' like." "i can understand that yearning of yours, brother; but the sooner we get busy the quicker we'll be sitting down with our knees under a table, and ordering a full dinner for two. go to it then, while i take a warm dip." the agony ended eventually, and as it was then a quarter after twelve they decided to go down to the lobby, and partake of the fare which had been cracked up to them as especially fine, as well as indicative of typical southern cooking--perk kept harping on that same string until jack whispered to him he must not overdo the matter. apparently they found everything to their liking, for they remained in the diningroom almost a full hour; and when they came out perk was breathing unusually hard, like a person who has done heroic duty in an effort to show the hotel _chef_ he appreciated his culinary arts. "we'll take things easy in our room for a short while," jack informed his chum, as they ascended by means of the "lift" or elevator. "along about halfpast two i'll call up my friend, and distant relative, mr.--er, oh! yes, mr. casper herriott, and make some arrangement for joining him tonight at his home--i've always been a bit eager to see. just what sort of family my--er second cousin casper might have, and this will be an excellent opportunity to satisfy that--er _yen_, as you would say." "huh! jest so, suh, an' it shore pleases me to see how loyal yeou are to yeour illustrious fambly tree--second cousin is real good, i'd say, suh, mighty good connection." "take it all seriously, partner, even when we're snug in our own room--such things need constant _practice_, and shouldn't be thrown off and on just as the occasion arises; such a habit breeds carelessness, you must know." "jest so, suh, jest so; i takes the hint, okay," gurgled perk. chapter xii when cousins get in touch jack was as good as his word. at exactly half after two he was in touch with the office where the government at washington was ably represented by the gentleman he had been instructed to get in close intercourse with, unbeknown to outsiders. "is this mr. herriott--mr. casper herriott?" he asked, when he heard some one handling the receiver after the house operator had heard his polite request. "it is," came back in firm tones. "_cousin_ casper herriott?" continued jack, a bit mischievously. there came a slight exclamation, then-- "who is it speaking, please?" "rodman warrington, of new york, sir." "ah! just so, mr. warrington; i've been rather expecting to hear from you at any time. glad you arrived safely; was that your ship i chanced to notice hovering over the airport about eleven?" "that was the time we arrived, sir; to meet a warm welcome from your gentlemanly superintendent of the port. he saw to it that our craft was speedily placed in a hangar, where it can remain as long as we happen to be hunting along the coast. i presume, sir, the new amphibian is here, and waiting for me?" "i'm delighted to assure you on that matter--it was brought here six days ago, and you will find it all safe and sound at the same airport where you landed." "what arrangements have you made for my meeting you, er--cousin casper?" continued jack. again he heard what he took to be a chuckle come over the wire, which assured him this mr. herriott at least was a man who appreciated humor, and seemed to be getting considerable enjoyment out of the happening, even though it was meant to all be along the line of strict business. "you have my house address, i presume, cousin?" he thereupon asked. "certainly i have; it was you yourself sent it to me, sir, you remember." jack went on to say. "to be sure--that had quite escaped my memory, owing to a press of business for the department. suppose you come around, say at eight this evening, when i shall be delighted to see you." "you can depend on me to be there; i have often wished i could drop in on you informally, and renew our old ties of friendship." "just so, and on my part i shall be most charmed to have you meet my good wife, and the children also, who have heard me speak of you more than a few times." both of them seemed to be enjoying this little chatter, meant to deceive any possible spy who might be looking for someone to make a business call upon the government agent,--perhaps there might even be such a snake in his office force, some one who had been bought body and soul by the syndicate, which would account for a leakage more than once in the past, calculated to upset certain deeply laid schemes for breaking up the wide-flung conspiracy against uncle sam. "i shall be particularly pleased to meet them, i assure you, cousin," continued jack. "at eight you said, sir?" "yes, and while you are in the city, later on possibly, i'd like you to fetch around that splendid pilot chap you mentioned, i believe, in one of your letters,--let me see, i think you wrote he was a native of birmingham, down in our own alabama close by, a sort of an odd genius, in the bargain, to whom you had become greatly attached." "i see you have been well posted, cousin casper," jack told him, understanding of course how the gentleman must have had a duplicate of the code letter sent on to him, jack; since they were to work in collusion as a team. "yes, i shall try to coax him to come with me later on--you know he's not at all gunshy when in the field, or at the traps, a most excellent shot, and guide; but he doesn't take much stock in society functions, in which he differs somewhat from myself. i'll see you then tonight, cousin." "we'll consider that settled; goodbye, cousin rodman until eight." jack was laughing as he switched off, as though this part of his mission might be looked upon in the light of a good joke rather than anything really serious. but no one knew better than jack what lay behind this pretense--how it was to be taken as only a bluff in order to deceive any argus eyes, or hostile listening ears, that might be employed by the powerful syndicate to further the ends of the smugglers of the carolina coastways. when perk heard what had passed he, too, had his little fit of merriment; but looked serious when jack told him of the warm invitation received concerning his being brought to the home of mr. herriott some time later on. "shore, i'll be glad to go with yeou, partner," he affirmed, taking a big breath at the same time, as though he had succeeded in conquering his prejudice; "'cause i wanter to meet up with this gent, an' hear what he's got to say. his lady, i done reckons, aint agoin'--agwyin' i means--to think much o' a ignorant guy like me; but if he's got _kids_ why i'm allers at home 'long with them. now tell me some more yeou two done talked 'bout." "the real talking will come off tonight when we get in touch, wally; all we did was to make arrangements; and whoever conceived this idea about our pretending to be distant cousins hit on a clever idea, and one that ought to throw any prowling spy off the track--whether in his office force, if they were listening to our little friendly chat, or even among the servants in his home." perk wanted to start out and see something of the city; and while jack on his part would have preferred staying there, and going over his schedule of arrangements once more, he concluded it might be wiser for him to give in and accompany the other on his roving about the city; for truth to tell he still felt a little dubious about perk's ability to play his part naturally at any and all times. accordingly they sallied forth, and securing a taxi had the driver take them to such points of interest as were within his ken. perk was eager to see the noted navy yard, at some distance north of the city, but jack convinced him that could very well keep for another time. "at any rate, brother," he concluded, by stating, "you're going to look down on that same navy yard every time we take off on a flight of exploration, to learn whether the ducks are down from the far north in sufficient numbers to tempt us sportsmen to locate, and build a duck blind." "gee! i kin see where i'm agoin' to enjoy a little shootin' fo' a change, suh," perk went on to say, accompanying his words with one of his wide grins. "aint done much practicin' on wild fowl fo' a heap o' moons, so i done reckon i'll show up kinder poor at fust; but it'll all come back soon's i gits my hand adoin' its cunnin', an' my eye on the job." they were back in the hotel by sundown, with perk trying to guess what he'd like best for his dinner. "wonder if so be they got any sorter dish i used to be fondest of when i was atrapsin' raoun' ole birmin'ham as a gawky kid--somepin naow like stuffed possum with baked sweet yams--haow even the mention o' that lovely dish makes my mouth fair water, an' my eyes glisten like raindrops on the grass. then there's co'nbread, hoe-cake we uster call hit in them days when----" "oh! you'll be sure to pick all your beloved dishes out of the menu, brother wally;" jack interrupted to tell him; "only i hope you keep that appetite of yours in check; what would become of all my well-laid plans for a great kill of ducks and geese if i had to leave you on your back in a charleston hospital here, down with gastro-enteritis, on account of an over indulgence in rich food?" "gosh amighty! doant mention that sort o' thing again, partner; i'll try an' bridle this ferocious appetite o' mine, an' hold her in check, shore i will. gaster--trig--er whatever it was aint agwine to get a grip on _me_, no suh." after dinner had been disposed of they again repaired to their room, perk having an armful of papers with which he meant to pass the time while his chum was chatting with the government agent, and picking up quantities of fresh information to add to what he had already accumulated. jack had him promise faithfully not to think of stepping out of the room, and to also refrain from opening the door to any caller. "we're stacking up against a desperate bunch of dare-devils, don't forget, comrade, who'd hold life cheap--at least any other life but their own--if it had to be snuffed out in order to further their evil ends. in a case like this it's a whole lot better to overrate your enemy, than to think too cheaply of him. have a pleasant time, and i'll be back inside of a few hours. so-long!" chapter xiii picking up facts when jack found himself shaking hands with his newly acquired "second cousin" one keen glance seemed quite enough to tell him mr. casper herriott was a man after his own heart--genial, with a warm handclasp, yet possessing a firm jaw, a keen eye, and all the marks to signify that the government had picked out the right type of business executive when he was placed in his present position of authority at the port of charleston. so, too, did he appreciate the delightful lady who gave him her hand and a wise smile, as though she considered it rather amusing to thus meet a relative of her husband who had bobbed up out of a clear sky, and seemed to be such a worth-while young fellow, just the kind any lady delights to have enter her home, and meet her children. these latter were a boy of about ten and a delightful little miss of perhaps six or seven, so pretty that jack could hardly take his eyes off her bewitching face. he decided that of course they could not have been taken into the secret, and actually believed him to belong to their father's family. for some little time they sat and talked on general topics; the children presently going to bed as though their time had arrived; also expressing the wish that they would see the new relation again very soon--evidently jack had made as favorable an impression on the youngsters as upon their parents. mrs. herriott soon turned the conversation into aviation channels, as though realizing that certain information she had been desirous of obtaining along the line of the new fad might be furnished by this wide-awake young chap, who moreover, she had undoubtedly been told by her husband, was one of the brightest and most successful of the men of the government secret service active roll. jack, being filled with knowledge pertaining to his life calling, the mastery of the air, took extreme pleasure in giving her explanations to her queries that apparently afforded the lady much satisfaction. then along about half-past eight mr. herriott made some plausible excuse for asking his guest to accompany him to his "den," where he wished to ask his professional opinion in connection with a fine new hammerless marlin repeating shotgun, which he had lately purchased, with the intention of later on spending a few days among the mallards and black ducks at a club he had joined. it was indeed a fact that he had such a brand-new gun, which he handed to jack, with a whimsical smile; the other carefully looked it over; tested the hammerless feature; saw that it was a six-shot twelve-bore marlin shotgun, and then gravely handed it back with words of the highest praise, just as though he had been examining a new production of an old friend. "i can well understand how you'll have considerable enjoyment out of that hard-shooting gun, sir," was his warm comment; "i've been out in a sneakbox with one of the same pattern, and found it trustworthy beyond description." "i'll just lock the door so we may not be disturbed by some servant, and then we can have a heart-to-heart confab--cousin rodman!" both of them smiled in unison at the conceit; and then, having fixed the door to his satisfaction, mr. herriott drew his chair alongside the one into the depths of which jack had sunk, following a wave of his host's hand in that direction. "in the start let me acknowledge that i've been a bit keen about meeting you, mr. ralston," he went on to say, warmly; "i've heard certain matters discussed, as far as such are spoken of in our circles, and had conceived a very high opinion of your abilities along the line of the hazardous profession you are following. i chance to know at the same time how well they think of you up above; and that they have shown this by the fact of entrusting such a difficult task to your working out. i am in full sympathy with what you plan to attain, and shall do anything and everything in my power to assist you to a complete success." "i am sure that is most kind of you, sir," jack hastened to say; "and i hope to pick up many valuable points through my association with you, which is so fortunate; because there are still many things i should know better than i do, and which must be mastered before i can venture to make a real start in the game." "it pleases me to hear you say that, since it shows how you appreciate the terrible difficulties, the overshadowing perils, and the enormity of the syndicate you will find yourself up against. it certainly requires a nervy chap to undertake to pit his wit and energies against so powerful a group as these men, of high and low degree, banded together for spoils only, have organized. and now, i presume you have a list of important questions which you wish to fire at me; so we had better be making a start." all of this had been spoken in low tones, that could never have been caught beyond a closed door; besides, mr. herriott had cautioned his good wife to see that such servants as they employed in the house, all colored, and who were supposed to be absolutely reliable, were where they should be at that time of night, and not "snooping" about the halls, or outside near the windows, over which the shades had been drawn so carefully beforehand. accordingly, the way being now open for acquiring more or less information, jack drew out a folded paper, and began to put the first question. these things do not necessitate their being noted here, although to jack they meant a great deal, serving to fasten in concrete form fragments of his view of the situation; and by degrees make a complete whole, thus giving him the grasp he required to accomplish his end. mr. herriott answered slowly, as though anxious to make no mistake that might cost the bold workers unnecessary trouble or risk. he might have been a lawyer on the stand, so studiously did he tell whatever he happened to know of the point jack was trying to have made clear. jack was wonderfully heartened--with such a clean spoken and well informed witness in the chair he could already see things were bound to speed along, and bring him much grist for the mill. when in the end his list of queries was finished, mr. herriott hastened to assure him he stood ready to answer any others that might occur to his new-found friend later on; for jack had already mentioned how he and perk would "stay around," possibly for as long as ten days, or two weeks, there was so much to learn, such great need for him to investigate many regions in that wilderness of swamp and watercourses marking the northward shore line. so far as he had gone in the matter, jack felt much encouraged; although knowing full well by far the worst was yet to come. these preliminaries seemed only in the nature of skirmishes, with the fierce battle in prospect. mr. herriott had told him many things having a distinct bearing on the great adventure; mention of which will be made later on, when jack starts posting his chum. this was only the first of several interviews he expected to hold with the accommodating government representative, as step by step he climbed the heights, and reached the climax just before plunging into the fray, on the principle that it was his duty to "hew close to the line, let the chips fall where they willed." it was after ten when jack arrived at the hotel. feeling particularly dry before ascending to their room, he satisfied his thirst by stepping into the convenient drugstore, and supping a cold cream soda. this was on the principle that if he knew perk--and he had reason to believe he surely did--the other might be expected to shower him with questions of every variety, in his eagerness to learn how their plans were progressing; so that his throat would soon become too dry to keep up the chatter necessary to appease the voracious one. he found perk drowsing in his chair, the evening paper scattered all over the floor, as it had been tossed aside after being perused in search of such items along the line of aviation and government work in suppressing lawless breaks in the customs service and coast patrol, always matters of supreme importance in the eyes of a loyal and industrious secret service man. perk jumped up when the door opened, as if suddenly realizing that after all he had neglected to fasten it as jack had advised. "by gum! if i didn't jest furget 'bout lockin' that door, partner!" perk went on to exclaim, winking very hard as the electric light hit his eyes after his "bit of a nap;" but jack said nothing in reproof, only settled down in a chair, beckoned the other to draw alongside, and calmly remarked: "got an earful for you, brother--lots of interesting things to tell; and you want to make a mental note of each and every one, so's not to forget if the occasion arises. now listen, and be prepared to speak up if you're puzzled." chapter xiv perk gets an earful "go to it, ole hoss; i'm all set!" was the way perk announced the fact that every atom of drowsiness had fled from his eyes, and he was as wide-awake as any hawk that ever darted down on a farmer's chicken pen. accordingly jack started in to tell of the pleasant time he had experienced while spending a couple of hours with mr. casper herriott and his charming family. perk was mildly interested at first, which was saying a good deal, considering how anxious he felt to have the narrator "get down to brass tacks," as he himself would have expressed it; meaning facts intimately connected with the perils and anticipated progress of their present big adventure. when, however, jack reached the point where his host had made him promise to fetch his best pal along at some later date, as he was particularly anxious to meet and know him, perk manifested fresh interest, and even asked several questions, thus learning what mr. herriott had said about having heard more or less concerning his, perk's, good qualities--and eccentricities. "shore," he told jack, soberly. "i'll be glad to meet up with the gent any time yeou see fit to invite me along--mebbe when yeou've sorter got matters hitched to the post, an' we're figgerin' on jumpin' off fo' keeps. i doant know 'baout the lady, since i aint much on talkin' to sech; but i'd jest _love_ to see them kids--got a soft spot in my ole heart fo' awl boys an' gals, 'specially them that aint much--er soperfisticated--hanged if i know haow to git that ere word; but anyway yeou ketch my meanin', partner." then jack began to branch off to other things, with perk sitting there, his eyes never once leaving the face of his chum, drinking in every low-spoken word as though he meant to print the same indelibly on the tablets of his memory--a bit fickle, it must be confessed, when he was caught unawares. one thing followed another, and the interest seemed to increase rather than diminish; until perk was breathing hard, and making a whistling sound between his set teeth, a little habit he had when intensely excited. "i asked about the amphibian that was to be placed at our disposal," jack informed the other later on; "and mr. herriott apologized because, as he said, he understood it had been decided best and safest for all concerned if instead of the wonderful new navy speed boat, one of the latest patterns along that line, as first designed for us, they had sent a much used curtiss falcon; although certain new fangled devices had been attached, such as combination wheels and pontoons, that had been successfully tried out in active service, and were much the worse for wear, but staunch for all that." "gee whiz! that's goin' to tickle a feller named er-wally a heap, let me tell yeou, buddy!" exclaimed perk, with glistening eyes. "allers did hanker to see haow that ere contraption panned aout. what else is there 'baout the boat we'll 'preciate, boss?" "a number of up-to-date things that are apt to come in handy," jack told him; "but remember, pains have been taken to make it appear they've been attached to the flying ship for quite some time--it might look suspicious if they were all _new_, as though placed there for some particular purpose--get the full meaning of that, do you, wally?" "yeah, jest so," the other made answer, a bit hesitatingly, but with growing assurance in his manner; "them bally guys got sharp eyes, an' if so be they happens to have a spy right hyah in charleston town, he'd lamp sech extravagance, an' keep an eye on weuns." "that's the right answer, boy--you said it. well, another fine thing mr. herriott told me, was connected with a suppression of the row made by our exhausts. you know that's been a source of great annoyance to us in times past, when it meant a whole lot if we could get close to our intended quarry without kicking up such a tremendous racket that every living thing inside ten miles must know an airship was somewhere around." "hot-diggetty-dig! air yeou tellin' me they done got that squall muzzled at last--that yeou kin make a grand sneak up on yeour meat withaout them suspectin' a single thing?" "well, they do say it's pretty close to having the noise kept under perfect control," jack went on to state. "whenever you want to stop the staccato sounds from publishing your coming to the entire country, ten miles in every direction, all you have, to do is to press a button, and the muffler gets down to business automatically. even the whirling sound of the propeller has been fairly quieted in the same way." "say, that shore is great news!" perk exclaimed, enthusiastically; "an' i'll be near crazy to see haow she works, aput in practice." "just hold your horses until tomorrow, when we'll go out to the field and take our first flight in the old cabin curtiss falcon ship, to find how she handles. i never had the pleasure of piloting one of that type of ships, and so there'll be a heap for both of us to learn." "shucks! i done handled a amphib many a time, but that was years back, when they didn't near come up to the new kind; an' with all them contraptions attached in the bargain. it's agoin' to be high sport dodgin' 'raound over them swamps an' wild sections o' territory, duckin' daown to settle on some bayou, or mebbe a meanderin' river with a fierce current, sech as i read they got close to the atlantic seaboard--bet yeour boots it is, partner." "i reckon you're right there, buddy; but for the present we mustn't have much thought for amusing ourselves--everything we do should have a decided bearing on the carrying out of our game." "shore thing, boss," agreed perk, not at all dismayed at having cold water thrown on his high hopes; "but if so yeou happens to git a good chance to knock over a brace o' fat mallards, in carryin' aout the duckin' part o' aour program, why, there aint any crime 'baout makin' a nice cookin' fire ashore, be they, and havin' real wild game fo' supper? we gotter eat to live, yeou knows, an' i'm right fond o' duck, when in camp." jack grinned, and shook his head, even though smiling, as if he found his chum's specious argument unanswerable. "we'll leave all that to the future, brother," he told perk; "it isn't always advisable to cross a stream until you come to it." then he went on to reel off still more of the information passed along to him by his late host; and while many things he told may not have seemed as important in perk's eyes as the two just mentioned, nevertheless he tried to pay strict attention, and asked numerous questions, to convince jack he understood all he said. "and before we take off for a spin," jack added, as an after thought; "we must get all the raft of things aboard the amphibian we fetched here to use in our work. there will be other necessary stuff to pick up from time to time, as we advance along our road; for we've got to remember that once we make the grand getaway we'll not see the floodlights or boundary zones of charleston aviation field again until we've won our game; or come back defeated, as others have done before us, men supposed to be as clever as they make them in our particular line." "then we got a big day afore us tomorrow, eh, what, partner?" "looks that way, buddy," jack lost no time in saying; "and on that account i reckon now we'd better call a halt on this talkie, and hit the hay. for one i'm about as sleepy as they make 'em, and ready to crawl between the sheets, leaving tomorrow to look after itself." "meanin' to run up an' see the gov'nor tomorrow, any?" queried perk, as he started to take off his shoes, and suppressing a big yawn while so doing. "i made an arrangement to get over to his house tomorrow night, should i have further questions to put up to him," jack admitted. "then again there's always a chance of some later important news coming in from headquarters, such as we ought to hear about without delay, since it could bring about some sort of change in our plan of campaign." perk grunted, as though he grasped the idea; but was really too tired himself to think of asking more solutions of the possible puzzles as yet bothering his brain. with the coming of dawn they were both astir, for when on duty perk could cut his sleeping portion in two, if it was deemed necessary; while jack had ever been able to get along with a few hours recuperation each night. they went down and enjoyed a fine breakfast, although perk had to be warned again not to founder; since they had a strenuous day ahead, when he needed to be in the best possible condition. consequently he had to deny himself a third helping of sausages and fried eggs; as well as a fourth plate of griddle cakes; dripping with fresh butter and southern syrup. however, he "opined" he would be able to hold out until lunch time; for which he meant to be provided by securing some stuff at a bakery, together with hard-boiled eggs aplenty--trust an old campaigner with vast experience for looking after the "eats" when backed by an abundance of the "long green." when they had laid out a program that covered everything for the day, they took a taxi, and ran out in style to the aviation field. jack assumed the post of running things, as was his right, acting as a wealthy young sportsman, used to doing just about what he pleased, and "letting the world go hang!" he had a little chat with his good friend of the previous day, and they learned that their other ship, the curtiss-falcon, was housed in the same blevins aircraft corporation hangar that now sheltered their big fokker tri-motored craft; which made things doubly comfortable, when they would start changing their possessions from one to the other. jack only waited until some call took the superintendent off, leaving them by themselves, when with perk's help he commenced the job of making the transfer. this had been taken into consideration before they left san diego, and later on in the curtiss-wright hangar at candler field, atlanta; so that everything had been placed in a series of cartons, such as might be tossed overboard when their contents were disposed of--particularly in the case of edibles, and such perishable supplies. these handy cartons would have prevented any one from knowing what they were stocking up with, and in such wise warded off possible suspicions that might have started a string of happenings none too pleasant to contemplate. after this job was completed came the running of the antique curtiss cabin amphibian out of its hangar, and settled in position for the coming takeoff; with perk all agrin, as if he anticipated a glorious cruise. chapter xv the trial spin perk had closely examined a number of things about the amphibian in which they anticipated carrying out the gigantic task committed to their hands by the chief at headquarters; and whom they looked up to as worthy of their utmost respect as an organizer able to consider the utmost details. most of his scrutiny, however, did not have any connection with new gadgets affixed to the black dashboard fronting the pilot's seat; but lay in the direction of the combination of wheels for landing on solid ground, also pontoons for use when seeking to drop down on the water of river, lagoon, or even the sea itself. he spent considerable time in examining the working of this contrivance, which he had reason to fully appreciate--if only it proved all that was claimed for it, which was soon to be settled. then the new-fangled muffler for the engine exhaust was a source of vast attention on perk's part; jack could see him shaking his head incredulously; and from this suspected perk of doubting its efficiency; but then perk happened to be something of a skeptic, and even though he did not come from missouri he usually had to be shown before yielding his doubts. "let's get out of here, and aloft," suggested jack, when he found it was about an hour before noon time. the field just then presented a rather animated appearance, as ships were coming in, and going out; with several taking up parties who were eager to try a first air swing. this just suited jack, for it would keep many curious eyes off their movements; and just then the less notice they drew the better he would be pleased. they picked up a couple of field workers to lend a hand, and hence their rather seedy looking water and air craft was wheeled into position, after it had been serviced while yet in the hangar, a very nice undertaking for one who disliked publicity. "here, wally," jack went on to say, when everything seemed in readiness for their initial jump, "suppose you take hold, seeing you're more accustomed to this type of boat than i am. however i'll soon get acquainted, and then it'll be okay. step in, and grab the stick, partner; nothing to keep us on ground that i know of; and i'm anxious to have a look-in at the waterways where we're hoping for a run of luck with the ducks and geese." much of this of course was for the benefit of the two men in dungarees, for how were jack and his pard to know but that one of them might turn out to be a clever spy in the pay of the never sleeping combine, jealous of their hitherto unsurpassed success in beating the customs, and in a way daring the secret service branch of the federal government to "do its level best to down them"? perk was not in the least averse to taking the place of honor when the amphibian would start its initial flight in their hands. he proved the absolute truth of what he had said about being fairly at home with the ship that belonged to both the land and water contingent; for they made only a short run when contact with the ground was cut off, and like a bird broken away from its brass cage and soaring upward, they started to spiral in the effort to gain altitude. when he had a ceiling of say about five hundred feet or more, perk commenced a wide swing, wishing to circle the city on the seashore, to view it from a different angle than their former experience had given them. "now point her blunt nose into the north, buddy--we're off!" jack bawled in the ear of the pilot, the ear-phones not having as yet been adjusted--all those things came under the line of perk's duty, and would be attended to in due time. they speedily left the good city of charleston behind them, and were passing over the navy-yard; which place perk meant to examine more closely with his glasses on another occasion, when matters would be easier for him. "how does she go?" shouted jack, later on, when they could no longer catch even a fugitive glimpse of the city, saving the cloud of smoke that almost always hung over the high buildings and steeples. "bang up, boss; works like a charm!" yelled perk, happily, as though he was not "caring a continental" just how long jack allowed him to hold the post of honor. "whoever looked after the job o' gettin' this classic old-timer in great shape for this work, he shore knew his onions, i'll say. it's a snap to run this boat, if yeou want to know my 'pinion." "i think i'll take a whirl at the controls, partner!" cried jack; "stay just where you are for a while at least; i can play the game as a back-seat driver. here goes, then." he was pleased to find it no trouble whatever to handle the amphibian as though he knew everything about such craft; after all airships are run pretty much alike; and it depends on the adaptability of the pilot as to whether he can work the same as with his own familiar type of craft--there are some people who are able to master any and all models of automobiles, even though handling them for the first time, especially men mechanically inclined by nature,--and jack happened to belong to that class. "you can go about your duties, wally; i'll work over into the front seat okay, for its an easy job, i reckon. when we make up our minds to dip down and wet the pontoons in some body of water, fresh or salt, i'll let you handle the boat again; though i imagine i could do the thing without much splash if i was put to it. i'll soon get the hang of the trick, you can well believe." "huh! yeou would, mister--it aint much that'd faize yeou, take it from me as knows." after that conversation was such a tremendous effort that it languished until a better opportunity opened up--this would come when jack found it expedient to make a test of the muffler system, with which their boat had been supplied, and which perk was eager to see tried out. to the delight of both fliers the device worked to a charm, most of the deafening racket being abated, even when they going at the fastest speed of which the "has-been" curtiss-falcon was capable of exhibiting--much more than a hundred miles an hour, perk figured. "huh! mebbe naow they call this ship a relic o' the past," he grunted, when the success of the experiment was assured; "but i wanter say right naow there aint amany up-to-the-minute ships as kin run circles 'raound this _tub_, as some wise guy pilot'd call her. see, yeou kin hear ev'ry word i'm asayin' an' yet i aint ahollerin' any to notice. it's a bully invention, an' shows where we're agettin' in this science o' aviation. from what i hears, them ships as is acarryin' smuggled stuff 'long the seaboard aint great at speed, 'cause they don't need to be, their job bein' to carry hefty loads each trip, an' be steady goers. if the chanct ever comes to try this falcon aout agin one o' that dirty bunch, i'm wagerin' we'll overhaul the same hands down, an' no takers." "i hope your prediction proves a true one, brother," jack told him; "for, come to think of it, there's a pretty good chance we may yet be up against a hot chase, either the pursued, or better still, the pursuer; in either case having the speediest craft would be an advantage worth while. yes, that seems to be okay, and a big improvement over all that row we're accustomed to carrying along with us wherever we go." they had been heading up the coast, keeping within sight of the atlantic most of the time; but paying constant attention to inland pictures. of course perk had before then brought his faithful and much beloved glasses out of their nook, and was making frequent use of the same, staring this way and that, sometimes making a noise with his mouth as though grunting his surprise to discover what a clear atmosphere attended their trial flight, and how close up the powerful binocular lens brought far distant objects. "it shore is a big treat jest to be squattin' hyah, suh, an' observin' so much all 'raound us. looks like a mighty tough region daown there, i got to admit; an' if them slick guys air ahidin' their landin' place where them awful swampy tracts lie, we're agoin' to have aour hands right full alocatin' the same, an' gettin' what we come after in the bargain." "don't worry, partner," jack told him, in as smooth a voice as though he could see nothing whatever to cause undue anxiety. "rome, you may remember, wasn't built in a day; there'll be heaps of time to get our little work in; and we were told to take as long as we thought wise--that there was no need of trying to wind things up in a hurry." "that's correct, boss," admitted the easily convinced perk; and then deftly turning the talk in another quarter he went on to add, pointing as he made the remark: "looky yondah, suh, see that neat lit' bayou jest anestlin' there like a private pond. wouldn't it be fine if we could on'y drop daown, an' try aour pontoons on that sheet o' water. doant seem to be a livin' thing araoun' neither, less it might be a 'gator, stickin' his nose up to see if the coast it be clear." jack turned the craft to a severe dip, at which the pleased perk grinned horribly, as if he considered he had made a real "wise-crack." "goin' daown, folks--main floor next--ev'rybody aout then what aint agwine to the basement!" he went on to remark, quaintly; and jack could see how his best pal was earnestly trying to acquire the genuine southern manner of speech, tinctured with a touch of negro dialect. "i'm going to try to make contact myself, brother," announced the confident pilot, as, after several circling movements he headed up against the sea breeze that was blowing from the southeast just then. perk did not appear to feel any concern, such confidence did he have in the other's ability to make landings so soft that an egg would hardly have been crushed by any jumpy motion. jack watched his contact with the water--the big boat dipped, sprang up, came in touch again, and then settled down to making headway, the little wavelets curling away from the bows of the pontoons with a murmurous sound very similar to the gurgling of a running mountain brook. "splendid work, buddy, better'n i could a done it myself, with all the sperience i done had long ago. an' she does work to a charm, sure as yeou're born. we're in bully great luck, all right, to have 'em pick aout sech a dandy ole boat like this, that does her makers credit. i'll tell the world." jack was not planning to stay in that lonely bayou for any length of time; what they were out to pay particular attention to on this their initial trip was the lay of the land; also to familiarize themselves with the working of the amphibian; so presently he again left the water, and arose like a lark. chapter xvi all in a day's work "and i gotter to admit," perk was saying, shortly after they had gained the altitude that gave him a chance to sweep the horizon with his glasses, "even the ole weather sharp stands in aour favor. look at that sky, buddy; did yeou ever in all yeour life set eyes on a clearer stretch--nary a single cloud pokin' its nose in sight; an' to think o' the measly days an' nights i uster spend in the mail-carrier business, asloggin' 'long with a capacity load, and mebbe ice formin' on my wings to beat the band. yeah! this lay o' aourn aint so bad--some o' the time." they swung over much of the territory for fifty miles north of charleston, with jack noting the lay of the land as cleverly as any topography expert charting a region, could display. in that wonderful brain of his he undoubtedly must have been engaged in making a mental chart of the ground; the sinuosities of the streams that ran with such eccentricity toward the nearby ocean; the numerous more or less possible landing-places where both boats from salt water, and those dropping down from the clouds, might find a resting place; where their contraband cargoes could be taken aboard waiting trucks, and be transported to safe havens, despite the utmost vigilance of the customs officers and coast patrol forces to apprehend them. this initial survey of the vast territory open to the expert smugglers, most of it absolutely familiar to those engaged in the illegal traffic, undoubtedly must have impressed the secret service man with the immensity of the task so recently placed upon his shoulders. just the same, the only visible result of this realization lay in a tightening of jack's firm lips, and a fresh gleam in his steady eyes, as though he might be once again dedicating all his energies, his life itself, to the undertaking as yet so young, so untried. "so much for the territory close to charleston," he told his mate, as he turned the nose of his airship once more toward the city; "i've got that down pretty pat for a beginning. the next time we come out it will be to take up the survey about where we left off today, and head further north." "judgin' from what yeou say, partner, i kinder gu--reckons as haow yeou kim to the conclusion they gets their business in further away from dear ole charleston--haow 'bout that, suh?" "possibly so, wally, but from what i've picked up from many sources, i'm already half convinced we'll be apt to rim across the whole works within fifty miles or so of the city, it may be where that swift and crooked yamasaw river skirts the coastways, dodging this way and that, even running backwards sometimes, so when you've been going with the current two hours you find yourself within a biscuit toss of a tree you passed long ago." so in due time they dropped down again on the landing-field close to charleston. one thing perk felt absolutely certain about, which was that his chief was not going to start real operations until he had accomplished the most exacting examination of the entire ground; and felt able to picture in his mind just how the government baiters carried out their extensive smuggling game by sea and air; but when he _did_ strike it would be in a way to start strangling the hitherto successful campaign of the giant combine. they both carried on in a perfectly natural fashion, much of their talk when in the company of any third party being along the line of their intended sport--how they had been able to discover a number of promising secluded ponds and bayous where already thus early in the ducking season a considerable gathering of the feathered game had been noted. perk fell into the humor of the trick, and even boasted of what a vacancy he meant to create in the flocks of ducks and geese before the termination of mr. warrington's vacation caused him to start north once more to his regular "business" of attending board meetings in a bunch of companies where he chanced to be a heavy stockholder, and a director as well. really to perk, who liked a joke as well as the next one, this thing promised no end of fun; every hour of the day found him more deeply interested than before, and eager to push ahead. that night in the sanctity of their room, (speaking even there in low voices as if they more than half believed the very walls might have ears) perk took occasion to mention the remarkable gift his companion had with regard to a retentive memory. "i jest doant see haow yeou kin 'member things like yeou do, ole hoss," he was saying, evidently fishing for light on a subject that had often confounded his intellect. "onct yeou hears a long-winded talk, an' i'll be hanged if yeou can't spin her off word fur word, an' never a single slip-up. haow kin yeou do it, suh, i'd shore like to know?" "it just can't be explained, brother, and that's a fact," jack told him in his smiling way. "all you know is that nature's been kind in giving you such a faculty, and let it go at that. i may seem remarkable to you, in that i've got such a good memory; but there have been others beside whom i'm a regular piker. did you ever hear of blind tom, brother?" "huh! 'pears to me i did--he was some sorter black man, wa'nt he, suh, what could play extra good on the pianner?" "extra good--why, that doesn't mean a tenth of what he could do--one of the greatest natural phenomena ever known in america, or anywhere--he was black as the ace of spades, and unusually homely, so they hated to watch him when he was playing; yet he had the most astounding memory ever heard of--didn't know one note of music from another--just depended on his ears, and that amazing talent that nature had implanted in his, strange uncouth soul." "what could he do, partner, as was so wonderful?" demanded perk, seemingly more or less interested. "of course i never saw or listened to him play, for he was dead long before my time," jack continued; "but i've heard people who had, and i've also read accounts of it in magazine articles, so i'm pretty well posted myself. if you turned your head away, they say you'd have sworn some famous composer was hitting the ivories of the piano, and bringing out the most divine strains ever heard. he could listen just _once_ to some classical and difficult sonata played by an eminent performer, (something blind tom had never heard before in all his life) and then sitting down he would reproduce the whole selection exactly as the famous artist had played it, with never a chord missing. people used to be awed, as though realizing they were in the presence of a miracle!" "gee whiz! it must a been somethin' fierce, boss," was perk's only comment. "you know they say the chinese and japanese are wonderful imitators, and can reproduce any pattern to the minutest detail that is placed before them; but the best of them would be ten classes below that negro genius. so don't think i'm anything but a tyro, brother, with my poor memory. "hot-diggetty-dig! but yeou're good enough to make a poor bucko like me take a seat way back; that's the honest truth, er mr. warrington, suh." as the following day broke with a promise of more clear weather jack decided to waste no time. accordingly they were off again, and speeding toward the north at a pace well over a hundred miles an hour. "gosh-a-mighty! i never'd have reckoned this here ole boat could hit it up so pretty," perk at one time called out, when they had muffled the engine exhaust so effectually that they were well able to converse without raising their voices to a shout. "she muster been built outen a number one stuff to hold together like she's done. if we got through this here job alive, partner, it's gwine to be up to us-uns to write a sweet letter to the company what constructed this here amphibian, an' tell 'em jest haow much we thinks o' aour boat." "possibly we may, partner," the other told him; "but even that might break the secret service rule of keeping identities well covered up, lest you lose some of your effectiveness by getting too familiar. besides, i've got an idea this boat's been reconstructed--that as originally built she wasn't in the amphibian class at all--some gent who owned her must have been fond of the model, and feeling the necessity for having a ship that could land on water, had her altered to suit his wants." "that may well be, suh," perk went on to assert, with one of his nods; "but jest the same they made a mighty good job o' it, i'm asayin', suh. huh! to tell the truth right naow i wouldn't cry much if i never did see aour ole bus, the big fokker, agin; i've fell so turrible hard fo' this hyah ship, built to imitate a duck, what kin swim on the water, rise from the same when yeou wants to git agoin', an' cut ahead at more'n a hundred clean an hour. huh!" when they had reason to believe, (from landmarks taken notice of on the preceding day by perk, as they turned for home) they were covering a fresh stretch of land and water, their vigilance was once more centered upon the task of closely observing every detail, and making more mental notes. during this cruise they discovered next to nothing incriminating--as a rule they found themselves gazing down on a tangled mass of forest growth, with silver threads of water running crisscross here and there; or it might be muddy looking rivers and creeks meandering along in their long march to the sea, covering at least ten miles where a crow would fly the same distance in one mile or possibly less. jack had noted a number of places where the conditions seemed more or less favorable for such secret work as the successful landing of illicit cargoes necessitated; but while the spot seemed everything that could be wished, there was never a sign of its being used for such purposes--no sheds, or even a well-used road leading into the pine woods, such as must be required if heavy truck loads of goods were to be carried off. "it looks as if we'll have to go over that first fifty or sixty miles again, with a fine tooth comb," jack told his comrade, as the afternoon caught them still speeding gaily along, not over three thousand feet above the checkered landscape below. "what we agoin' to do 'baout hit, then, suh?" demanded the puzzled perk. "we shore caint keep startin' aout from charleston every mawnin' like we're adoin' right naow, covering hundreds o' miles, an' hope to git back by daylight." "oh! that needn't trouble us anything to speak of, matey," the other hastened to assure him. "if necessary we'll drop down, and make camp for the night, pick things up in the morning, and take chances of getting back to charleston any old time later on." "say, less do that same tonight, suh," suggested the artful perk, with his most engaging smile; but jack shook his head in the negative. "possibly we may tomorrow; but i've agreed to see mr. herriott tonight, partner." chapter xvii spinning the net again, after jack had paid a visit to the home of mr. herriott he repeated much of what fresh information he had picked up during the evening, some of which he deemed more or less important, as the facts dove-tailed with other details, to make something of a complete structure. "tomorrow we'll hang around the city, as there are a few things i've got down on my list of wanted articles," he observed in conclusion. "besides, i promised him i'd fetch you around so as to make his acquaintance, for he always asks about you." "huh! spose i jest _has_ to get over there some time'r other," perk remarked, as though not particularly eager to go. "but i shore hopes as heow on the follerin' mawnin' we kin start off, an' go so far we'll jest _have_ to make camp in them there dark gloomy lookin' pine woods." "it must depend a whole lot on the kind of weather they dish up for that day," jack informed him. "if it's foggy, and the visibility poor, we might as well hang out here in the city, since we couldn't do any paying business looking into a blank wall of fog, you know, wally boy." "okay--suits me jest as well as things go," the other announced carelessly enough; "i aint acarin' a scrap whether school keeps or not, so long as we gits aour three square meals a day, an' dandy ones at that, real southern style, like i used to have when i was a birmin'ham kid, runnin' raound barefoot with my mates, jest like tom sawyer an' huck finn uster do in them ole mississippi days we done reads 'baout in the books." it was just as well that jack had decided to drop a day in their search for hidden haunts of the smugglers; for when morning came the sky was overcast, and poor visibility seemed to be "on tap" for the entire day. jack went about doing his errands, while perk seemed content to stick to the isolation of their comfortable room, doing some reading of the bundle of well known daily papers he had managed to secure at a shop they passed during the short walk taken in company after breakfast--that, and the waiting to get up an appetite for dinner seemed to be the full extent of perk's ambition, it was plain to be seen--when he had a day off, and the "eats" were so unusually tempting, it pleased perk to act as if a lazy streak had gripped him. "i think i forgot to tell you," jack chanced to tell his comrade as the afternoon began to wane, "that we are invited to dine with mr. herriott and his fine little family tonight. oh! you needn't be so alarmed, partner; we'll simply clean up, and look a bit dressy; you'll soon be on good terms with both him and his charming wife; as to the kids i warrant you fall dead for them at first sight." perk, whose face had at first taken on an expression of sheer dejection, seemed to brighten up at mention of the youngsters; for he even grinned, and started to the bathroom, as if to begin washing up. they arrived in good time, and perk was soon made acquainted with the entire little family--of course under the name and character beneath which he was hiding his own identity at that particular time. just as sagacious jack had surmised would happen, perk was soon feeling quite at home, making "wise-cracks" with the two wideawake youngsters, and even engaging in more or less conversation with his host and mrs. herriott. it chanced that there seemed to be a dearth of news that evening, so they could spend the time after dinner in other ways than "going into a huddle," as perk put it, and having a siege of explanations and surmises. mr. herriott coaxed perk to speak of his early experiences, partly when over in france, during war times, then later on with the mounted police up in northwest canada, and also as one of the early pilots carrying the mails, as far as was done in those bygone days and nights. when perk was once fairly aroused he apparently lost his customary bashfulness, and could tell a story that brought out more than a few laughs because of what queer things he narrated, and his comical way of relating the same, his expressive freckled face all working with imitations of how other men did their talking. "i never sits so comfy in the cabin o' a up-to-date tri-motored airship these here days," he went on to remark, when well started, "with all sorts o' instruments to navigate by, that i doant think 'baout heow we don't fly any more by jest instinct, like we uster do when the wright boys was a perfectin' their fust crude heavier'n air flyin' ship. today, suh, we sits at the controls, an' keeps aour eyes on aour instruments all the time, an' doan't care a red cent what aour wonderful _instincts_ say 'baout it." "i never thought about that fact, wally," mr. herriott hastened to exclaim; "please go on, and tell us something more along that same line. you certainly must have passed through some strange experiences, i'd say." "shucks! but it shore does make me laugh aout loud when i looks back to them early days, an' 'members the funny way we used to find aout whether the silly bus was a movin' up, er daown, to the left, or to the right. the very fust instrument, if yeou could call it that, to ease up on the instinct way o' doin' was invented by one o' them smart wright brothers. say, it was on'y a light piece o' string, tied jest in front o' the pilot's face. when we was a goin' near ten miles an hour, mebbe fifteen at a stretch, we kept an eye on that string right along, an' could tell what the ole ship was adoin', 'cause like it might a been if she floated in the wind straight at aour face we knowed we was keepin' on a level keel--if it went daown a bit why we was climbin' some; if the string struck us in the forehead in course the plane must be droppin'; and same way if it flowed to the right, or the left. an' say, i never did know that early wright invention to kick over the traces, an' fool me any." even jack apparently had never heard about that clever device, however primitive it might seem when placed alongside the wonderful means at present used to ascertain the same things--such as slipping, skidding, turning, climbing, or diving--today the experienced pilot watches the air-speed instrument, his compass, the bank and turn indicator. only by placing entire dependence on the instruments in the cockpit can a pilot fly with any certainty in foggy weather, when it is utterly impossible to see any fixed point, either on the earth below or in the heavens above. and this is only one great change made in both the construction of the airship in these modern days, as well as the helping hand given the pilot through the clever devices by which he is confronted when sitting at the controls. taken in all perk spent a very pleasant evening with the herriotts, and on their part they had a most uproarious time, the children particularly in romping with the jolly chap from the north. it was with considerable eagerness that perk bounded out of bed on the ensuing morning, and rushed to a window to ascertain what the chances were for a promising day in the coast skyways. "okay, partner!" he sang out blithely, after one brief look at the heavens, a portion of which was visible from the hotel window; "agwine to be jest fine, an' never a whiff o' fog aout there on charleston harbor an' bay." "then we'll get busy, and make as early a start as possible," jack announced, also quitting his cot. "an' we doant kim back thisaway tonight, either, i shore reckons, boss," perk went on to add, with a happy ring in his voice; for he did yearn to eat one camp meal, when the chance came along, and no harm might follow their change of a set programme. "that depends on a good many things," jack warned him; "so i wouldn't count too heavily on our stick-it-out idea, if i were you, wally, boy. if all goes well, no accidents happen to our boat, and we get so far away from home along about the middle of the afternoon, why we'll decide then on our doings for the night. you might as well, i suppose, carry a few necessary things along, such as you'd like to eat at a campfire supper--if we think it wise to have any fire, i mean." "oh! please doant throw any gloom on aour trip today, partner; we kin make shore to drop daown in a region where there aint a chinaman's chanct o' a solitary tarheel bein' inside o' ten miles; an' the swamps araoun' makin' it ab-solutely impossible fo' sech to git to aour camp short o' six days anyway, havin' to cut his path through dense thickets; wade sloughs where the pizen water moccasins air thicker'n molasses on a cold mawnin'; with twelve-foot 'gators alayin' in wait to bite off a gink's leg quicker'n yeou could wink an eye. shucks! we jest gotter have that same campfire--withaout the same it'd be like the play o' hanblett with him left aout." jack only grinned, but perk seeing the look on his face, took courage. "there's one thing i haven't touched on as yet, brother, which might just as well be taken up now." jack was telling his comrade, as they sat eating an early breakfast, there being hardly any one besides themselves in the diningroom; so they could talk in low tones, and keeping an eye on the waiters, so as to change the subject should one of them draw near. "huh! somethin' mebbe naow mr. h been atellin' you-all, eh, suh?" "just that, wally; but a matter of the utmost importance, it happens, as you'll soon understand, buddy. it concerns a certain party who's going to have a hand with us in closing the net, and making a big dent in this same syndicate we're up against. his name--bend a bit closer to me--is jethro hicks." "sho! never heard it afore, give yeou my affidavy, partner!" returned perk. "of course not," snapped jack; "neither did i until mr. herriott mentioned the fact last night that he would be waiting whenever we sent out the word--waiting in a certain little bayou which we'd have picked for our hideout--waiting in an old battered powerboat he owns, to take us about in the nest of swamps which we could never navigate otherwise. you get the point, don't you, wally, boy?" "hot-diggetty-dig! jest what i do, suh; queer i never reckoned on haow we'd be able to dodge 'raound in sech crazy places, if left to aourselves. gwine to have a reg'lar pilot--woods guide fo' swamp flittin', i'd call the same! good enough, i say--caint be too many quirks set up fo' knockin' them dead game sports silly, to please me. as it is we gotter to be workin' with four hands each, if we hopes to climb 'em fo' keeps." "i'll tell you more about this same jethro hicks when i get further word through our good friend, who's as interested in the success of our deal as we are ourselves--says he has it on his mind sleeping and waking, which pleases me a whole lot. come, let's be on the move, partner; the chariot awaits us." "then we'll git aboard an' start right away, after i've laid in a few provisions that may keep the hungry wolf from aour door this very night. let's go!" half an hour afterward and they were on their way out to the aviation field in a convenient taxi; where in short order their big amphibian, properly serviced by the field force, was ready for the take-off. chapter xviii black water bayou fortune favored them again, it seemed, not only with regard to the skies, but, probably owing in part to the early hour, there were few persons scattered about the aviation grounds when they took off; and the regular attendants already understood the pair constituted a duck-hunting party, viewing the coast shooting stands with a view to getting in some good sport when finally satisfied as to location. from the beginning they hit up a high pace, fully equal to the best the amphibian had thus far accomplished. being what might be called "ambidextrous"--doubly able to leave by means of water, or solid land, it had not been necessary for them to locate on any river or bay, where they would not have the benefit of field mechanicians, and a movable filling station, as well as shelter in a comfortable hangar. jack had doubtless taken all such matters into consideration when forming his plans, and decided that the good points about staying at the regulation aviation headquarters outweighed the poor ones. they covered the first fifty miles in short order, keeping at some distance further from the sea than on their previous trips, jack having a new hunch, to the effect that possibly the rendezvous of the smugglers after all might be situated deeper inland than he had first suspected. when later on perk announced that he could just make out some city far off on the right, jack pronounced it to undoubtedly be georgetown, which lay at the junction of the pedee and the little pedee. they had flown directly over the same city on their previous trip, showing how far west of their original course they were now working. "we're going to patrol this region most carefully, partner," jack told his best pal, who as usual was handling the binoculars to the best advantage, and calling out any discovery worth while, so as to keep his mate posted. "it has all the earmarks to make it a dandy hidingplace, where these sinister operations could be pulled off, day or night, and no one the wiser. what easier than for a sea-going plane to swoop over or around georgetown, coming from some unknown point east, and then vanishing in the distance, still going west? get that, don't you, wally?" "sounds all to the good with me, suh," the other told him, nodding as he spoke. "i'm atryin' to make aout some queer things daown there; but it's all sech a scramble i jest caint do much. mebbe if we dropped a bit things'd seem different like." "i'm going further west, so as to cover the ground," jack informed him, as though his immediate plans were made up, and he did not care to change; "but later on in the day i reckon we'll be back this way, and possibly make camp for the night. i'd like to find out what sort of doings are taking place nights in this section; chances are we'll pick up some interesting points before striking charleston again." "which same'd please me a heap, mister," quoth perk; who was by now beginning to grow a little weary of what he termed "inaction;" and sighing for more strenuous times to come along, when there would be some real thrills experienced. at noon they partook of a "snack," devouring a few sandwiches, so as to take off the sharp edge of their appetites; perk apologizing to himself for eating so scantily. "if so be we're agwine to dine ashore alongside a gen-u-ine campfire," he went on in his whimsical fashion, "i wanter be in prime condition to do justice to the grub i'm meanin' to sling up fo' jest two gents, known to weuns as mr. rodman warrington, an' er--wally corkendall, of birmin'ham, suh. so take things easy, an' jest forget haow yeou're still hungry, ole man; it's on'y what that lecturer says is a figment o' the imagination, an' so you're not a bit half starved." when about the middle of the afternoon they again arrived in the neighborhood of the sector which had appealed to them both as well worth paying particular attention to, jack signified that he was meaning to do something in the line of lowering their ceiling, and finding out whether there was a chance of their making a successful drop upon the waters of that queer bayou, alongside of which ran a swift and mysterious looking river he figured might be the waccamaw. closer scrutiny convinced both of them that so far as their settling down on the surface of the lonely bayou was concerned, nothing could be seen that would interfere with such an arrangement. jack circled the spot several times, with his exhaust muffled, and even the propeller keeping unusually quiet, as though in full sympathy with their desire for secrecy. "cover every rod of both land and water with your glass, partner," he told perk; "because it means a whole lot to us to make sure that there isn't any chance for hostile eyes to take note of our stopping here. unless i'm away off in my reckoning this same bayou must be the identical place where we are to later on make a rendezvous with that cracker guide, jethro hicks, who knows every foot of these water trails--i understood he hid out in this terrible region for several years when at loggerheads with the authorities, though innocent of any crime. how does the ground look to you, buddy?" "like the ole sam patch, an' that aint no lie either, boss," perk lost no time in telling his mate; "i never did see sech a awful stretch o' mixed land an' water nohaow, nowhere; but jest the same that's zactly what we want, so's to make dead sartin they beant nobody araound hyah calc'lated to bother weuns, that's the way i looks at hit, suh." "quite right too, wally, boy!" snapped jack; "and such being the case here goes to settle down on that black water bayou--i think that was the name mr. herriott gave the slough." "gosh all hemlock! an' it couldn't have a better name, i'm asayin' suh--tough enough lookin' to give anybody a shiver; but as we're itchin' fo' to keep aour comin' secret, it suits aour case to the dot." there was plenty of room in the middle of the mysterious little lagoon for their landing, if such it could be called; and so cleverly did the pilot bring the pontoons of his craft in contact with the surface that hardly the slightest splash followed. jack lost no time in taxiing over to a certain spot that seemed to hold possibilities for the maneuver he intended putting into effect--thick trees hung low over the water, and if only they could manage to push far enough in, the boat would be beautifully camouflaged--hidden under a fringe of branches, and so well disguised as to be discovered only after a close search. "wonderfully fine," was jack's announcement after this had been successfully brought about. "why, it's almost like late evening under this thick canopy; and the bayou itself, surrounded as it is with tall cypress trees, with those long trailing beards of gray spanish moss give it a gruesome look." "urr! jest makes me think o' the ole graveyard i used to run past a goin' home late nights, when i was a country kid up in new england," perk was saying, toning his voice down to almost a whisper. it certainly did have a most funereal appearance, with the breeze making all manner of weird sounds through the tops of the trees, and the festoons of dangling moss waving to and fro like mourning banners; some unseen swamp creatures added to the shivering feeling that had attacked perk by emitting the most gruesome grunts and groans his ears had ever heard. "but it happens to be just what we were hoping to find," jack continued, looking quite pleased at the loneliness of the spot; "small chance of any of those crackers coming in this direction, when they have no business here. i reckon wally, you'll be able to have that jolly campfire your heart's so set on, without its getting us into any trouble." "huh! that all tickles me right smart, boss," chuckled the other, rapidly conquering that sensation bordering on awe, and beginning to look at things in a more sensible light. "kinder gu--reckons as haow there might be mebbe a 'gator or so in sech a slimy place as this same--that is, if sech critters do live as fur north as this south carolina swampy region; anyhaow i ain't agwine to take chances awadin' in them nasty waters, where i kin see snakes aswimmin', and pokin' their heads aout to larn what in sam hill done drapped daown in their private park. gee whiz! this is 'baout as cheerful a hole as the gateway to the lower regions, if yeou asked me what i thought, suh." they soon discovered that they were not to be allowed to take things as easy as perk may have anticipated; for presently both were employed shooing swarms of voracious mosquitoes from their exposed faces and hands. chapter xix the lonely camp "perhaps," suggested jack, tiring of this exercise after a while, "it might be just as well for us to step ashore, so you can get that fire going. a little smoke would be worth while as a smudge to drive these skeets away; they're bent on eating us alive, it seems to me." "jest as yeou sez. mister," perk acquiesced, with alacrity; and in less than three minutes he had managed to jump ashore from the end of the wing that rested on a log close to the bank of the bayou. gathering some loose wood he quickly had a blaze going, and was joined by his comrade, who took particular pains to stand to leeward of the fire, so that clouds of thick smoke would cause the fierce insects to abandon the vicinity. "i suppose that, generally speaking," jack went on to say, "we would be hunting dry wood so as to send up as little smoke as possible, for fear of attracting notice, and bringing unwelcome visitors to our camp; but in this case the chance of detection plays a very small part in the game. we certainly need lots of pungent smoke in order to drive these hordes of nippers away. so go to it, partner, the more the merrier." later on they sat down where the wind would waft some of the smoke in their direction, and being at peace with the world just then found that they could compare notes, and reach certain conclusions. although the sun was still quite some little distance above the horizon, as they figured, (being unable to see anything through that mass of cypress, and hanging moss) it was already commencing to grow dusk back of the camouflaged airship. "i knows as haow it aint time yet," perk finally spoke up, getting to his feet with determination written large upon his face; "but jest the same i caint hold aout any longer--i got to listen to the growlin' daown below-stairs, as sez its past time to stoke the furnace; so sech bein' the case i'm ameanin' to start aour supper, if so be yeou aint no 'jections, suh." "not in the slightest, wally, so get busy as soon as you like," he was told. the other did not wait for a second invitation, but making his way back to the cabin of the amphibian presently returned with both arms full of mysterious packages. after depositing the same upon the ground near the blazing fire, perk made a second trip aboard, and from that time on busied himself in the one occupation of which he seemed never to tire--making preparations to supply a rousing meal, cooked over such a bed of red embers as he delighted to supply. jack was pretty hungry himself, and enjoyed the spread greatly--its memory was likely to long haunt them; and in speaking of the past the time was apt to be set by such phrases as "something like a month after we had that glorious camp supper on black water bayou, remember, partner?" jack sat there working at his maps for some time after they had finished eating; so, too, he made numerous notes, to be conned over and over again, until he could repeat the gist of them all as occasion arose. that was his way of preparing for a campaign; and no masterly tactics of a successful war general could have been an improvement on his programme--to prepare in advance for all manner of possibilities was as natural to jack ralston as it was to breathe; which plan certainly had much to do with the customary success falling to his lot. suddenly both of them caught the distant report of a gunshot; and stared at each other, as though mentally figuring what such a thing might signify. "did you take notice which direction that gunshot seemed to come from, eh, wally?" demanded jack, presently, as no other similar sound followed. "i'd say from over there," perk swiftly replied, pointing toward the south as he spoke. "what dye reckons, suh, it'd mean?" he asked in turn. "oh! nothing that concerns us, i imagine, wally, boy--some chap might have run across a hunting wildcat most likely, and couldn't resist giving him the works. but it settles the direction where that secret landing place may lie, i feel almost certain. that's one of the points i wanted to pick up; and before the night is over we may be able to prove my prediction sound." "yeou doant reckons, suh, they kin see this heah fire aburnin', do yeou?" jack laughed as though the idea had no standing with him. "not in a thousand years, wally; it must be a matter of a mile, perhaps twice that between this spot and from where that gun was fired; you see, the night air heads toward us, and would carry the sound quite a long way." he proved that he felt no uneasiness by continuing the conversation that had been interrupted by the sudden far-off shot; and so perk did not hesitate to toss more fuel on his cheery campfire. they were thinking of turning in aboard the nearby boat, and seeking their necessary rest, when perk, who had unusually keen hearing, sat up and inclined his head to one side as though listening. "jest what she is, for a fack, partner," he went on to state; "an' shore as yeou're born, suh, they aint no muffler aboard _that_ ship, i'll take my affidavy on that same." "it _is_ a ship, no doubt about that, and heading this way out of the east, you want to notice, buddy," jack indicated, as though that mere fact had a deep significance in his eyes. "yeah! that's so," agreed perk, readily falling in with the conceit, as he usually did when jack was the originator of any proposition. "they air acomin' straight from aout on the ocean, where mebbe a steamer is alyin' anchored, an' loadin' its cargo o' contraband on fast blockade runners that come 'longside; also sky-carriers in the bargain, sech as drop daown close by on the sea, an' take on all they kin carry." the faint sounds rapidly increased in vigor until even a novice could have decided it was an airplane making almost directly toward their strange camp on black water bayou. "keep on listening, brother," advised jack; "and then we'll compare notes as to where we heard the last clatter. things couldn't be working more smoothly to suit our plans; and we ought to be pretty well primed by the time we come back here to join up with friend jethro." finally the now loud clatter ceased, which those airmen knew full well meant it had succeeded in effecting an apparently safe landing, whether on land or water they could only surmise. so carefully had they both tried to get the exact locality fixed in their minds that when they came to comparing ideas it was found they agreed almost to a dot; so jack was able by referring to his small compass to make a note of the circumstance, as well as their united conviction. "i kin shut me eyes an' see what a busy bunch is workin' unloadin' that same crate," perk observed, a little later on. "scent's agettin' a little warmer, seems like, partner, when we ketch the racket o' a smuggler plane comin' in from the mother vessel away off shore, beyond the twenty mile danger line." "i'd say it surely was," agreed jack, grinning happily, as if in answer to the joyous look he detected on his partner's sunbaked face. all had by now become as silent as the grave, at least so far as suspicious sounds undoubtedly caused by human agencies; but otherwise things did not happen to be so quiet. from the nearby swamp came a multitude of queer croakings and gurglings, accompanied by harsh cries such as night herons seeking their food, or other birds of similar activities, might make while fishing. "gee whiz!" perk at one time burst forth, "did yeou ever in all yeour life listen to sech queer sounds as them? hark to that splash--sure reckons some roostin' bird must a fallen off its perch, an' if all that flutterin' and squawkin' stands fo' anythin' its got swallowed up in the jaws o' some critter waitin' daown below fo' its supper. glory! i wonder if weuns kin get any sleep with all these heah carryin's on in full blast. jest hear 'em whoopin' it up, will yeou, suh?" however, when the time did come for them to go aboard the boat and seek their cots, by closing the cabin door much of the noise was deadened, and after all perk found little difficulty in getting to sleep. nothing occurred during the night to disturb them, or cause any undue alarm. doubtless that variegated noise kept up through the livelong period of darkness, but it gave them no concern whatever. when perk happened to wake up he believed he could catch a feeble gleam as of daylight outside the cabin; and upon investigating found it to be a fact. he thereupon aroused his companion, and another fine meal was soon in process of preparation over a resurrected fire; to which of course the pair did ample justice, after which they made ready for another flight, and a return to the city. chapter xx the mother ship when jack went over to the home of the affable mr. herriott the following night he had much to tell that gentleman, such as had a bearing on his own campaign. the other heard what he had to say, and then asked a number of pertinent questions that in their way were more or less helpful. "from all you saw and heard, my friend," the other observed later on; "i am absolutely certain you have found a bonanza, and discovered the landing place used mostly by the planes that are carrying such vast quantities of contraband from mother ships to certain central depots, where doubtless motor trucks are able to come over unknown country shell roads, and convey the same to shore cities, possibly even as far north as baltimore and washington. you are getting close to your objective, i have no hesitation in saying; i only hope it all turns out as well and profitably as your daring and skill would warrant." such words from one whom he had come to admire as a "clean shooter," as perk designated their official friend, gave jack much satisfaction. "still, there's no reason for undue haste, you know, sir," he told the other in his calm way. "while i do not want to loaf on the job, at the same time i am against trying to push things to a decision, if by so doing i must take unnecessary chances." "quite right, too, mr. er, warrington," he was told. "it would have been much better for several of your fellows who worked on this affair if they had possessed a share of your caution; two in particular showed signs of getting somewhere but in seeking to make a swoop before the time was fully ripe they queered the whole game, and fell down on the job. i would be willing to prophesy that such will not be the result of your planning." "there was one subject about which i'd be glad to hear something further, mr. herriott," jack went on to mention. "you have only to let me know what it is, and any knowledge i happen to possess in regard to the matter is at your service. now tell me how i can give you any further assistance,--jack." "it's about that cracker guide who's agreed to take us to the secret landing-place of the mob--jethro hicks. do you feel the utmost confidence in his honesty, sir? you can easily understand why i ask, since if it turned out that he himself was in the hire of this gang of law-breakers, things would turn out badly for myself and my friend." "let me reassure you on that score then," came the immediate answer; "i am positively certain jethro will be found as true as steel. i know this from a number of reasons. first of all, i've been acquainted with the man for some years now, and i think i'm safe in saying that he thinks considerable of me as a staunch friend. i had an opportunity once upon a time, to do him a favor, when it seemed as though the whole world had turned against him, and kept him a fugitive from the law, hiding in the swamps and backwoods for some years; and he will never forget the little i was able to do for his family then. that is one reason why he has so greedily taken me up when i asked him to work hand in glove with you." "yet you say he had broken the law--was hiding from arrest apparently--hardly a fact to commend him as an honest man, sir, i'd think." "but jethro was entirely innocent in that nasty affair, as was later on proven without a doubt; he is now walking openly, and without a fear of arrest. on that same fact hangs his chief desire to help you break up this powerful gang of smugglers infesting the seaboard of our state." "how come, mr. herriott?" questioned the surprised as well as deeply interested jack. "listen, and you will, i am sure, understand what i mean," continued the other. "some years ago there was a sort of mountain vendetta existing between the hicks family and two other households in the same neighborhood. it had gone on for a good many years, with occasional outbursts, and some shooting. later on it came about that one particular man named haddock made considerable money since prohibition came in; and still hating the name of hicks found an opportunity to accuse jethro of certain things, building up false evidence on which the young head of a family would undoubtedly have been sent to the pen if he had not hidden out in the swamps. while there this rich man also persecuted his family, and protected by his money could do this without hindrance. "jethro has never forgotten or forgiven those wrongs; and yet unlike many of his class, he does not wish to shoot his hated enemy down in cold blood. but it is more than suspected that john haddock is one of the rich men backing up this big syndicate, for it would come directly in line with the way he managed to accumulate his own fortune in a less extensive way, merely with mountain dew as his stock in trade. "jethro swore to me he knew this to be a _fact_, although he could hardly hope to prove the same unless given an opportunity to raid their headquarters and find positive evidence there. "now you will understand just why he can be depended on--jethro is no law-breaker, and his fierce hatred for john haddock--all the haddock tribe in fact--will make him a faithful assistant for such as you. are you satisfied now, jack?" "unquestionably so, sir; and i thank you very much for telling me this. i'll have a better opinion of jethro, and feel a sympathy for him in his desire to get even with this rich schemer through whom he has suffered so much." more of this confidential talk was indulged in, with jack fortifying such conclusions as he had already reached. and when he got back to the hotel room, to find perk sitting up, reading, but eager to know if anything worth while had happened, he proceeded to further astonish his best pal by giving a verbatim rendering of every item spoken by the united states representative. "so you see, brother, how well we are progressing," he concluded by saying; "and with such an eager helper as this same jethro promises to prove, it looks as if something unexpected was going to strike that powerful illegal combine of smugglers at an early date--don't you feel that way too?" "shore i do, partner, an' here's hopin' it aint agoin' to be so very long naow 'fore we get in aour fust crack. i'm near wild to knock one o' them smugglers' first aid ships to smithereens, with a nice baby bomb i got hid away aboard aour dandy amphibian cruiser." "your hour will strike in due time, wally, boy," said the amused jack, with a fond look at the excited face of his chum. "you've never completely gotten over your boyish ways, brother--anything in the line of excitement, and you fairly itch to be up and doing. i am free to confess, however, that when you _do_ get into a ruction you know how to give a good account of yourself." "thanks, ole hoss, comin' from sech as yeou that's the highest kind o' praise i could ever expect. i sometimes reckon i must abeen in at least one squabble 'fore i was hardly able to toddle 'raound, it comes so nat'ral to me." on the following morning their regular routine was again taken up. they flew up the coast, and turned out to sea, jack wishing to learn whether there was a mother ship lying off the coast, from which all manner of prohibited articles, from aliens, precious stones, narcotics and in great quantity the finest of foreign strong drink, down to the smallest things that had an intrinsic value, were secretly imported into the states minus the heavy duty imposed on their coming. once again his hunch proved a true one, for they discovered a squat steamer hovering about twenty-five miles from the coast, with several fast smuggling power-boats alongside; and as perk reported, a number of men passing weighty sacks over the side of the larger craft. "no need of our going any closer, partner," jack announced, as he banked sharply, and turned the nose of their boat toward the north. "we'll just knock around for a spell, to experience the sensation of slipping along above the great salty sea, something neither of us have had much experience in doing; and in good time we can pass on down again, so as to cover the ground where we expect to get in our heavy work." which same they did, to their own satisfaction; and much to jack's surprise to also discover a second large foreign ship apparently also laden to the gunwales with piles of goods in suspicious looking gunny sacks. "it seems as though it might be high time something was being done to cut this traffic into ribbons, don't you think, wally, boy?" jack asked, as again he made a steep bank, this time heading into the west, toward the distant streak of land which told of the coast of virginia. they struck out for shore, passed as far inland as jack considered tactful, and through his clever work in piloting the airship actually passed directly over black water bayou. chapter xxi a motor-truck caravan "i say, buddy!" they were bobbing in and out of the fleecy drift clouds, just as that other ship had done, almost indistinguishable from the ground, being about two miles up, when jack thus called out. perk had been taking account as to the amount of fuel yet remaining in their tanks, and was amusing himself doing some sort of calculation with a stub of a pencil and a pad of paper. "yeah! what is it, boss?" he sang out, looking over to where his mate sat at the stick, with the exhaust racket of both motors cut-off effectually. "we're just whiffing over that delightful little ghostly bayou you fell in love with; and heading so as to pass above the region from which we heard that unseen ship settle down." "i reckoned that was so, partner; go ahead an' say what's on yeour mind." "there's one thing that so far has escaped our scrutiny," spoke up the pilot, with perk quickly adding: "meanin', i reckons, suh, we aint seen nary a sign o' any sorter vehicle sech as mout be atakin' the stuff to market--is that so, suh?" "good guess, all right, for you, wally, boy," replied jack. "pick up your glasses again, and keep an eye on the ground down below. if by good luck you light on anything suspicious, let me know; because i want to see for myself, as it might help me figure out certain things worth while." "ay! ay! cap; here goes!" perk told him, suiting the action to the words with the greatest eagerness. jack loitered somewhat, not wishing to skip over that prospective battlefield too speedily, lest it fail to reveal some of its most valuable secrets; accordingly he circled while still sticking to the cloud screen, now in and out like a fluttering butterfly amidst the thistle blooms of an old quarry. their aerial steed could not be seen from the far distant surface of the earth, unless one chanced to have a very powerful pair of binoculars similar to the beautiful ones perk was just then handling--the government at least was a generous employer, since the question of price never entered into the purchase of such instruments as were necessary. suddenly perk let out a loud crow. "gimme the stick, gov'nor!" he called out, shoving in behind his mate. "aplenty in sight right naow, i'd say, if yeou asked me. jest peek yeour eye on that ere stretch o' marsh, i take the same to be, clost alongside yonder stretch o' pine woods--must be some sorter corduroy road built through the muck, screened mostly by cypress trees covered with a heap o' trapsin' moss." "i've got it, partner--just as you're saying in the bargain, a corduroy road made of logs laid parallel, and looking a bit new as if it had only been constructed lately, for some special purpose." "see anythin' amovin', boss?" continued the excited perk, eagerly. "not yet," he was told; "but whatever you saw may be hidden behind some patch of dense timber at the moment. ha!" "ketched 'em jest then, did yeou?" "one--two--three motor-trucks in a line, close to each other, and making fair time over that bumpy log-road, considering that they seem to be heavily laden with something covered by dirty tarpaulins." "somethin'--huh! weuns ought to know what kinder stuff, eh, partner?" laughed perk, jubilantly enough. "keep circling around, using these hazy clouds for a screen, whenever possible, brother," urged jack. "i want to get an eyeful of this same picture, because it's going to give me the one thing that was lacking--a knowledge of the way they get the stuff out of such a boggy country without being detected by sharp-eyed revenue men." "but say, boss, didn't we make up aour minds they might have a bunch o' landin'-places, so's to switch aroun' when things begun to get too hot at any one roost?" "yes, and i still believe that way," jack told him, his eyes continuing to be glued to his glasses, as though what he saw fairly fascinated him; "but just the same, they could make use of one main road out of the swamp country." so he kept close tabs until eventually the line of heavily laden trucks had passed from his sight. "you can pick up the course to charleston now, buddy," he told the acting pilot. "i've seen that those trucks are heading north by nor-west, and chances are they mean to make baltimore before they halt for good; though like as not they may have a half-way station for stopping over during part of a day, so as to cover the last and most risky section of their long run by darkness, or moonlight." "an' partner," perk blurted out, as he relinquished the stick to the masterhand of his mate, "do yeou know they's somethin' that's been abotherin' me right smart." "as what, buddy?" asked the other, keeping up his run among the friendly screen of fleecy clouds. "things they seem to come an' go with these here smuggler lads like everything might be part o' a well greased machine--never a click, er a squeak, but movin' 'long with hardly a missfire--jest haowever _do_ they fix it--how kin they know near to the minute when a cargo's acomin' to port, so's to have them trucks and men awaitin' fo' the same." "oh! that's dead easy, partner," jack sang out, as though on his part he felt little doubt. "yeah! seems to me them chaps 'way back in columbus' time said them same words arter the man as diskivered america stood a egg up on end, fust knockin' the small end, and making a rest fo' the same--anything's soft enough arter you been told haow--naow i wanter be shown." "listen then, wally, boy--there isn't the least doubt in my mind but what the gang has an excellent radio station rigged up somewhere along the coast; they can keep in constant touch both with the mother ships we saw anchored twenty miles out, and also with headquarters on shore--down where those three motor-trucks loaded up, after some speed boat ran in here last night. get it now, do you, old pal?" "gosh! seems like us boys gotter be settin' up nights fixin' traps fo' the sharp foxes, they's up to sech big stunts. sometimes i find myself wonderin' haow in sam hill weuns kin beat 'em atall at their pesky games." "well, that's what we're here to put through," jack stated, off-hand like; "and it seems that usually we do come out on top. but even if we succeed in putting their freight air ships, and fast launches out of business, this game of ours can never be called complete until we've managed to discover the location of that powerful sending radio station--and blown it sky-high in the bargain." "bully boy!" cried perk; "an' more power to aour elbow, is what i'm asayin' right naow. big boy. we _kin_ do it, an'--watch aour smoke, that's all." "i begin to think the time for our departure is getting close at hand, pal wally," jack remarked some time later, as they glimpsed the familiar smoke cloud hovering over the city ahead. "if my last talk with our good friend tonight pans out as i feel pretty certain it must, we'll figure on making our big jump some time day after tomorrow. that will give us plenty of time to get everything aboard we expect to need; for once we leave charleston we'll not be likely to see the place again in a hurry." "sure pleases me a heap, suh," perk told him, nodding his head approvingly, as though he might be some species of war-horse scenting the battle-smoke and acrid odor of burnt powder in the breeze, calling him to action. in due time the big amphibian dropped down on the field, and was hurriedly conveyed to its hangar; the two airmen hovering around for a brief time examining certain parts of their ship, to make doubly certain there was nothing amiss. jack did not intend going out on the following day, if things worked as he was now planning; they would fix up a last day program, by following which everything necessary would be carried out in the customary way of such careful adventurers as they had always proven to be. "huh! been a right full day, i'd call hit," was perk's last word, as they started back to the hotel, so as to clean up for supper; after which jack meant to keep an engagement with mr. herriott, who would be apt to have some news of importance to communicate. "taking things as they go, it certainly has, brother," jack told his "side push," as perk often called himself. "we've picked up some facts that plug the vacant holes in my scheme; and i feel confident we're getting close to the big finish." chapter xxii down to business at last when jack came back to the hotel late that night, he found perk lounging in the lobby, and keeping a watchful eye on the main entrance. "got too darned lonesome up in the den, suh," the latter explained, keeping up his character part as an employee of the rich new york sportsman, who was so well liked that he had become a sort of companion, and campmate in fact. "jest couldn't stand it any longer, an' had to come daown hyah, so's to watch the folks, an' pass the time away. gwine up right naow, suh?" "might just as well, for i'm a bit tired; and besides we have some plans to settle on before striking out for the ducking grounds day after tomorrow. got those chilled-shot shells i want to tryout, did you, wally?" "sure did, suh," answered the other, with a wide grin, knowing that this had been spoken because the hotel clerk was close by at the desk, and watching them a bit curiously. "an' i done reckoned as haow i might jest as well fotch 'long double the number o' boxes yeou-all asked me to. they sure slips away right speedy like, suh, when the birds air atradin' good." once behind the closed and locked door, jack started to explain such fresh facts as had come within the circle of his knowledge in the last chat with mr. herriott. "he will make all arrangements with jethro in the morning, so we can expect to find the man waiting at the rendezvous--black water bayou, two nights from now; for i calculate to drop down there just while the twilight holds. that is the main thing we settled; and he assured me there would absolutely be no hitch to that part of the program. when such a man as our good friend gives a promise like that you can depend on it being exactly so." "bet yeour boots that's a fack, partner," perk took occasion to add most fervently, having conceived a great liking for mr. herriott, his charming betterhalf, and the two youngsters with whom he had had such a riotous time on the occasion of his late visit. jack took some object out of his pocket, and holding it between his fingers seemed to blow softly into the same with a certain quavering inflection. the result was an odd quacking sound, several times repeated. "gosh all hemlock!" perk exclaimed, a little too loud for discretion as he himself appeared to realize, since he immediately moderated his voice as he went on to say: "if that ere aint a reg'lar duck-call i'm a rank piker. what dye know 'baout that, if we didn't forgit to supply aourselves with a quacker--two on 'em in fact, one to coax the ducks within gunshot; an' tother fo' wild honkin' geese. takes yeou to think up the small but important things, ole hoss." "well, we may some day have a chance to use this call for the purpose it was intended," stated jack, handing the queer little article with the split and brass tongue crown over to hank for examination; "but i got it for quite another reason. when i put this to my lips, and give a number of loud quacks, it'll be after we're lying there on the surface of black water bayou--as a signal agreed on with jethro. you must remember he has never met us, unfortunately, and this game is too risky for any one to take chances. he'll answer my signal by six quacks in quick succession, and i'll give him another four in reply--then both will have made sure covering the identity of the other." "jest fine as silk, i'd say, suh!" perk assured him, with that look approaching adoration such as came to him most naturally, whenever his pal jack sprang some unusually neat piece of work upon him. perk tested the duck-call several times, blowing softly, so as not to cause any guest, or possibly even a spy, in an adjoining room to wonder what such a series of queer sounds could mean. "huh! been a long time, suh, since i done used one o' these contraptions," he finally advanced. "they do fotch the s'picious birds aswimmin' closer in to the stools--yeou knows i gotter to buy a bunch o' cedar decoys tomorry, 'case no shooter ever goes aout to bag ducks withaout a flock o' the same." "that's down on your list of last supplies to be picked up, i remember, wally. and when i've told you a few more things that come to me tonight we'd better turn in for a good snatch of sleep. no telling how much time we'll be spending keeping wide-awake night after night, once we embark on that part of our big game. in fact, it's possible we'll have to change things around, and do about all of our sleeping daytimes." "suits me right well, suh--so long's i gits fo' hours at a stretch, with a few halfway decent eats thrown in, i doant never kick." less than half an hour later and they were getting ready for a spell of forgetfulness. perk, as he crawled into bed, was muttering something to the effect that there would be only one more occasion when they could treat themselves to the real luxury of a decent bed, with a fine bathroom conveniently close at hand. "but what do it matter with sech a ole campaigner as _me_--anything we kin strike aint agoin' to be one-tenth as bad as when i was over in them stinkin' trenches, up to my knees in water, an' listenin' to hell broke loose all raound, with the heinies throwing shiploads o' shells, an' other devilish explosives--awful pizen gas in the bargain, every-which way--i ain't complainin' o' anything after what happened to me there, no siree, i aint." in the morning they took a leisurely breakfast, and then separated, each of them having a complete list of certain necessary things that had to be attended to. jack had declared it his intention to take-off around midday, for they could once more follow the course now becoming quite familiar--passing out to sea, and from a great height learning whether a mother-ship lay off the coast, with fast speedboats tied up alongside, taking on cargoes--although no attempt would be made looking to coming in to the mouth of some estuary, up which they meant to push under cover of darkness. only one thing could keep them from making their start as planned, and this would be a bad weather report covering the coastal region from brunswick, georgia all the way past hatteras, to the mouth of the delaware. optimistic jack, however, was hoping for the best, since as far as he could see no bad weather appeared on the latest report from headquarters, as given in the charleston papers. much was accomplished during the morning, and both of them brought back various packages that were to be carried in their bags to the field, at the time of taking off. "you looked after those decoys, i expect, brother?" jack queried, as they sat at the lunch table, enjoying all manner of good things appealing to their sound appetites. "better b'lieve i did that same, buddy," the other assured him; "an' a mighty likely lookin' bunch o' stools i picked up. they're sendin' the same to the aviation grounds this afternoon; an' i'm meanin' to run aout so's to stow the wooden ducks away aboard aour ship. i'd give somethin' for a chanct to shoot over them same decoys, yes suh, i sure would." "perhaps fortune will be kind to us, and you may yet have that pleasure, pal wally. no telling but what we may be ordered to hang out around this part of the coast for some time after we've done our job to the queen's taste; and to tell you the truth i'd enjoy a little shooting myself." the afternoon passed, and when the sun sank low in the west, with their coming together again at the hotel, never a single item on either list had been neglected. in the morning jack walked around to the post-office where the latest weather reports could be found, to see if they corresponded with the rosy promises the morning papers contained. he assured perk on returning that they need have no fears about making the start as scheduled; so that perk found his cup of happiness full to the brim, and even running over. they took an early lunch and then went out to the aviation grounds in a taxi as usual. before their ship was trundled out to be set for a start they saw that everything was aboard, and safely stowed away, from the cumbersome decoy flock to the last thing in "chow," as selected by capable perk, about as good a judge with regard to food supplies as could be run across in a day's search. the manager of the aviation field himself was out to shake hands, and give them a parting good-bye. jack, seeing the smile accompanying the words and hearty handclasp, had a faint suspicion that possibly the affable gentleman had guessed something like the truth; but just the same he felt it would never go any further, if he could read good southern faith in a human's eyes. chapter xxiii at the rendezvous the big amphibian, well loaded down, made a creditable take-off, and they were soon mounting up toward cloudland. as on the previous occasion there chanced to be a never ending flock of beautiful white fleecy clouds passing along, with the sun shining most of the time, since the banks of vapor were "light-weight," as perk poetically described them. looking back perk took his last view of charleston, a bit regretfully, since the quaint aspects of the city, connected with oldtime buildings, and other agreeable sights, had somehow gripped his heart. jack again soon headed off the coast, it being his intention, if the conditions were at all favorable, to drop down on the sea, and float there, waiting until the afternoon was well advanced before heading in to the shore. after they had passed for many miles up the coast he picked out a spot--after being warned by the lookout that there were two large vessels standing off beyond the twenty-mile line, undoubtedly mother-ships loaded down with fresh supplies of contraband--where they could lie upon the surface of the water undetected by any one passing far above, or at such a distance away as the foreign ships appeared to lie. jack could not remember having ever known the restless atlantic to remain almost perfectly calm for such a long stretch of time--he felt like taking it as a favorable sign concerning the carrying out of their individual great plan--even the elements were apparently in league to render them assistance, which he took it to be most kind and reassuring on their part. along about three in the afternoon perk, again searching everywhere for some sort of discovery, announced that he had picked out a plane ducking in and out of the white battalions of clouds still passing overhead. "seems like she might be acomin' from that quarter where we got aour hunch the landin' field o' their airships must lie," he went on to say, as though his mind was made up along those lines. "reckon as haow they caint pick weuns off daown hyah, suh, seein' aour wings air abaout the same color as the sea all 'raound this same spot." "not the least chance of such a thing, partner," jack assured him; "i had them colored that way purposely, seeing that we'd be likely to squat down this way when spying on the mother ship further out--not even if they have binoculars aboard, which they undoubtedly must, could any one make us out. heading for that foreign steamship, isn't that cloud chaser?" "straight away, suh, as sure as shootin'. course they reckon on loadin' up with somethin' that's aboard, an' wants to git ashore the wust kind--mebbe a bunch o' chinks it might be; or else some sorter stuff like high-toned laces, cape diamonds, or sech expensive big things as allers come in small packages." "at any rate," jack went on to mention, "they are heading for one of those two foreign boats further out. you say there were several speed boats and launches fast to the sides of the big freighters, when you glimpsed them? strikes me things are breaking about right for our making a start in the big racket tonight--of course depending on jethro's bobbing up all serene." perk followed the course of the airship dipping in and out of the cloud belt, and after quite some time had elapsed made his announcement. "they sure is acomin' daown ashootin', big boss. reckons as haow there must be a good hand at that ere stick, a lad as knows his business okay--there, he's flattened aout, an' takes things some easier, seein' as haow the ship's ready to make contact with the sea. aint this a reg'lar picnic o' a time, when weuns kin jest lay here like a gull afloatin' on the water, an' see haow them smugglin' devils work things. little do they suspect that there's sumpin' hangin' heavy over ther heads, an' liable to crash any ole minit from naow on." it was by now getting close to the time jack figured on making a start. he planned on taking a leaf from the routine methods brought into service by the expert pilots manning the illegal air carriers, passing in and out from mother ship to their secret landing place--by making a high ceiling, and depend on a curtain of lofty clouds to effectually screen their presence while hopping over the danger zone. "time we skipped out of this," he told perk, who emitted a muffled roar which was possibly meant to be an expression akin to applause. the waves were picking up somewhat in the bargain, which may have been one of the reasons why the ever cautious jack wanted to get moving: he did not have any particular yearning for a headlong dash amidst rolling billows, such as might cause considerable trouble, even bring risk in their train should they find themselves compelled to make the venture. however, they made the ascent without great trouble, even if there was a certain amount of splashing done. perk looked pleased when the ship arose from its salt water contact, and began climbing at a steady pace. jack held out for some little time as though meaning to pass inshore far to the north of the point he was really aiming to attain; this he did to hoodwink any one who might chance to see them through strong glasses, and feel a little curious to know who they were, also, what their object could be in carrying on after such a fashion. eventually he turned more into the west; then, after passing over the shore line, faced due southwest, and sped on. finally when perk warned them they were approaching their proposed landing-place jack brought his charge lower until presently, as evening drew on apace, they could be seen sweeping along not five hundred feet above the tops of the tall cypress trees with their queer festoons of trailing spanish moss. then came a glimpse of black water bayou, bordered by the mysterious gloomy looking swamp, from whence had come all those uncouth sounds on the occasion of their stopover some time previously. "huh! mebbe we'll git right 'customed to them awful noises," perk was assuring himself, as their pontoons glided along the smooth surface of the lonely lagoon, and the boat headed directly toward that artificial curtain behind which they had previously pocketed their "windjammer," or as perk sometimes called their craft the "crocodile"--partly because, as he affirmed, such a reptile was the only real amphibian, able to negotiate both land and water in turn, and feeling at home in both. "so far, okay," he observed, softly, after the boat had come to a stop, close to that friendly ambush where they could readily hide their craft should they choose to start forth with jethro aboard his smaller ducking powerboat; "an' naow let's on'y hope the gink shows up on time." "i wouldn't speak of jethro in that sort of way, buddy," remonstrated jack. "it's true he is a southern cracker, without much education; but that i'd call his misfortune and not his fault. mr. herriott says he's a chap with considerable principle, and his one weakness is about the wrongs this bunch of men have done him and his family. he is ready to encounter every risk if only he can show them up, cripple their big business, and possibly send some of the lot to atlanta for a term of years." "i get yeou, partner," said perk, contritely; "shore didn't mean anything by sayin' what i did; an' i'll be glad to shake jethro's flipper whensoever we meet." "i knew you'd feel that way, wally; and it may not be a great many minutes before the chance comes along." "meanin', i take it, boss, he orter show up right soon?" demanded the other. "this is the rendezvous place you know, where we agreed to wait for him," explained jack; "he, may be a bit late getting up here, for his boat is an old one; though mr. herriott did tell me he himself had had it fixed up some, to work a lot smoother--uncle sam stood the racket, too; and you know when _he_ foots a bill nothing is too good to be utilized. we may be surprised when we see that same dinky powerboat." "as haow, partner?" queried perk, his curiosity aroused immediately. "wait and see, brother," jack told him, tantalizingly. "our first duty right now is to poke the nose of our airship back of this dandy natural curtain, where it just couldn't be seen, unless a close search was being made, our plans possibly having been given away. that couldn't happen in a coon's age, we've been so cautious, so secretive, and made no confidents except mr. herriott--and through him necessarily jethro. take hold, and help me swing her along back of the trailing moss and vines." when this had been effected jack again whispered: "listen while i give the signal, partner; if by any chance hostile ears were to catch the quacking of a duck, it could hardly excite the slightest notice; for such a sound often breaks out in the darkness of night down here, since a duck on the water acts as sentry to the sleeping flock. here goes, then:" chapter xxiv perk rides in the ghost boat "quack--quack--quack--quack!" perk chuckled at the clever way jack imitated the outcry of a startled feathered pilgrim from the far north--old shooter as he was, perk felt confident he himself would have been deceived did he not know whence the sounds proceeded. he listened intently, hoping they might not be disappointed in their expectations. there came an answering call from a point close by--it gave perk a positive thrill--then jethro must have already arrived, spurred on by his burning desire to pay his debt of hatred long since over due. jack waited a dozen seconds, after which he again sent out his call, repeating the first one exactly--four quacks. "gee whiz! somepin's amovin' over yonder, matey!" whispered the excited perk, as they peered through openings in the leafy curtain by which the airship was so deftly concealed. "i see it," answered jack, also feeling a thrill of satisfaction, in that their great scheme gave positive indications of being about to start off with a bang. "it's some sort of boat okay--too dark yet to tell just what shape the same may be. there, it's coming out of hiding now." "an' a powerboat in the bargain--jethro's crate, i shore reckons; but hot-diggetty-dig! see haow fast she's a headin' thisaway, yet yeou caint ketch even a ripple, or hear the exhaust one teeny bit. a ghost boat, i'd call her, partner, blamed if i wouldn't." jack chuckled as if amused. "mr. herriott put me wise about that," he explained, softly. "it's one of the big improvements uncle sam brought about in that old craft, in order that it could do the work so much better--and safer. you see, the overboard motor that's been installed in place of the old one is up-to-date, and has its exhaust away down deep, so it can swing along without any of the racket most power-boats kick up. it's used a great deal by fishermen, who troll for game-fish, and would expect but scant captures if their boat kept spluttering away as the old type used to do. get that now, wally?" "jest what i do, ole pal; an' say, aint it won-der-ful what things they're inventin' these days--talk 'bout there bein' nawthin' new under the sun, why, hardly a day slips past that we doant hear or read 'baout stunnin' discoveries. that certain is a happy thought. but here he is, clost to us, pard." "hello! thar!" came in a low, discreet voice, as the oncoming boat slowed up by degrees. "it's okay, jethro--we're on hand as promised!" as jack said this the other gave a low laugh, as though greatly pleased to find his new employer so prompt, and evidently a man of his word. he was soon leaning from his seat in the cockpit of his ancient powerboat, (in which he had for some years been engaged taking parties out from charleston for their fishing, or shooting) and grasping first the extended hand of eager perk, then that of jack ralston. he had been put wise as to their real identity, but warned to meet them under their assumed names, so as to ward off any possible risk of discovery. so it was he lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper as he spoke after the handshake. "ah 'low as how yuh reckoned ah mout be some slow agittin' hyah, suh; but since they fixed up my ole dickey boat, she shore do step along like smoke." "glad to know that, jethro," said jack, to whom the other had turned as if readily recognizing which of the pair must be the leader of the desperate enterprize with which he had committed his fortunes so gladly. "looks like a fine night for us to make a beginning." "jest what hit is, suh; couldn't be no better, ah'd say. an' ah done reckons as how they be some big doin's goin' on over tuh the station ternight." "that sounds good to me, jethro," jack assured him. "fact is, i'm beginning to believe the fates are working in our favor right along, from the way things keep happening. now i'm going to put the work in your hands as far as getting us in touch with these parties goes." "i kinder figgered as how yuh'd do thet same, suh," said the confident jethro, "seein' as how i knows the ground like er book. i aint agoin' tuh let yuh down, suh, bet yuh boots i aint." perk had not tried to break into this brief confab; truth to tell he was engaged just then in keeping "tabs" on jethro's manner of speech, so as to determine how close to the real thing he himself had come when trying to play the part of a genuine birmingham son of dixie. "how are we going to start this racket?" questioned jack. "all get in your boat, and close in on the working station, so we can see with our own eyes just what sort of a show they're putting up." "them's ther ticket, suh," he was promptly told, showing that the guide had formed some sort of a general plan of campaign. "i be'n right up agin the level groun' whar them airships land, an' watched what was happenin' lots o' times. 'taint no great shakes agittin' clost tuh thet workin' bunch, 'case they don't reckon they's a single stranger inside o' ten mile. they'd shore skun me alive if they'd run ontuh me; but i knowed my beans, an' how tuh fool ther best o' 'em." jack liked the way the other talked--it showed that jethro had considerable self-confidence; also that the consuming passion running like hot lava through his veins was not apt to warp his judgment in the least. he could be depended on to keep fairly cool and discreet under any trying condition; and should matters ever come to a showdown, such a man would fight like a south carolina wildcat, of that jack also felt assured. "then we'll leave the ship concealed here back of this screen, and climb aboard with you, jethro," jack told him. "i put it up to you to say when we ought to make a start." "right away'd be ther right thing ter do, suh," came the answer; after both jack and perk had changed to the reconditioned powerboat. "yuh see, it's sum way tuh go, the river's so crooked in places; so i kalc'late things they'll be fair hummin' by ther time we gits thar." "just as you say, jethro; but perhaps we ought to take certain things with us--no telling just how soon we might find a use for the same. wally, climb back, and pass them over to me--you know what i mentioned i'd like to have along." evidently perk had committed the list to memory, for he handed the articles over in rapid succession--guns, along with other things that must have been a rank mystery to the staring jethro, though he made no remark. "that's all, big boss," observed perk, once more changing to the powerboat, and the seat he had just started to warm up. not the ghost of a sound of passing vapor came to perk's strained ears as the boat picked up a certain amount of speed, heading directly for the near-by river, which jack had called the yamasaw. perk could hardly believe there could be such a thing as throttling the noisy clamor he had always associated with the passage of a motorboat, usually heard over the water from a distance of several miles. truly the wizards must be hard at work these days, performing near-miracles right and left--first the aircraft's noisy discharge conquered; and now the humble powerboat reduced to absolute submission. jack quickly noticed that jethro was making no great attempt to force his smoothly working new engine. he could conceive of several good reasons for this caution--in the first place there was no need for haste; then again they would be going with the rapid current while descending the crooked stream; and last of all he could readily understand how there might be a variety of obstacles here and there, blocking their passage--logs, and huge boulders, which would surely cause the boat to founder, should they crash against some snag head-on. on the return journey, whenever they chose to come back, the case must be different, since they would have the current to buck against, and necessarily much more power would be called upon to make decent progress. however, jack was not figuring as to just when that retrograde movement would come about--perk had handed over a variety of things they would require if they chose to linger for a day and another night at least, even to some "eats"--catch perk neglecting _that_ part of the supplies--not if he was in his sane mind, he had told himself with unction. well, here they were gliding along down the river, just as perk had so many times vividly pictured in his mind, with darkness all around them, and only jethro's intimate knowledge of the intricacies of the stream, and its various outjutting snags, standing between themselves and a cold bath. perk thrilled with deepest satisfaction. from this time on he felt assured all sorts of exciting happenings would be the order of the day or night; and no longer would he feel bored by inaction. the war against the desperate smuggler gang was on, and the outcome could not possibly be delayed much longer than forty-eight hours, he felt confident. half an hour and more had now passed since their start on the inland voyage, and several times they found the angry water foaming up around them as if eager to drag the adventurous voyagers down into its unknown depths. but always jethro maintained a perfect grasp on the situation, parrying this rock, and that snag, as though he possessed the eyes of a cat. it was simply amazing how he managed, and perk found himself growing deeper and deeper wrapped up in sincere admiration for one who could display such wonderful skill, such fearless handling of a frail boat in all that turgid, leaping water. finally jethro began to slow up, and the others knew from this that evidently they must be drawing close to the place for which they were aiming. yes, several times when it happened the water was more calm, perk felt positive he caught the faint sound of human voices, as though reckless men might be making merry with some sort of liquid refreshment that loosened their tongues, and made them feel unusually jolly. so, too, did he glimpse signs of growing light, and figured that doubtless fires might be burning, with supper cooking. fed up with a desire to set eyes on what lay so close by, perk counted the minutes as the boat continued to move smoothly along. finally he found that jethro was propelling it by hand, the noiseless engine having stopped its pulsations; and a minute later they lay back of a screen formed of hanging spanish moss and clinging vines, quite as effectual so far as concealment went as the curtain hiding the airship. "git out hyah, suh;" whispered jethro in jack's ear; "rest o' ther way we gotter tuh go afoot." chapter xxv a well oiled machine one thing in particular jack had noticed--this was the fact that shortly before this stop had been made they had left the main stream, and pushed up some smaller subsidiary, although the water seemed to be quite deep. he had found it easy to understand just how speedboats, loaded down to the gunnels with sacks of contraband, were able to come up from the mouth of the yamasaw, and make their passage safe by means of searchlights on board for that particular purpose--since they must invariably choose the night for making their depot, and eluding such searching coast patrol revenue cutters as were on duty in those shore waters. it made jack smile to think how in turn he was heading a swift patrol of the air, inaugurated to sweep this audacious combine from the sea, and break up the powerful syndicate so long defying the government. "it's now got down to brass tacks," he was telling himself, as with perk at his side he carefully followed at the heels of the crawling cracker guide; "and a case of dog eat dog, as perk would call it; so i only hope our canine will act the part of a german police, or shepherd dog, and eat up the other beast, that's all." the closer they drew to the camp of the smugglers the more jethro drew upon his education as a skillful tracker and guide to avoid discovery. perk, taking occasional sly peeps, could make out a number of rough-looking men moving here and there, as though restless; and from this fact he felt confident they must be waiting for the arrival of something that had to do with their presence here in this isolated camp. yes, and presently he also discovered several huge motor trucks parked nearby, the presence of which settled the matter; for he knew positively a laden speedboat must be on the way, probably bucking against the current of the river at that identical minute. if they stood by their guns the best part of the night they might witness a transfer of the contraband from boat to truck; and, if very lucky, even pick up some information regarding the destination of the double load. when finally jethro came to a halt they were really as close to the camp as the lay of the ground on that side would permit, without taking too risky chances for discovery. perk was soon pulling at jack's sleeve as if desirous of attracting his comrade's attention. seeing that the other was so persistent jack inclined his ear as a sign for the other to only speak in the faintest possible whisper, which of course perk only too well knew was absolutely necessary. "looky--over there jest back o' thet tree, an' away from the fires--aint that some sorter crate yeou kin lamp?" "just what it is, a plane, and a whopping big one to boot," jack assured him, when he could find perk's ear. "no seaplane after all, so it can't be used for going out to the mother ship; but flies over the land, taking some sort of stuff to a certain depot--may have fetched a bunch of chinks over from cuba on its last trip. keep still, now, wally, and just watch." the time dragged on until several hours had passed since they arrived at the landing field and camp of those busy bees engaged in hoodwinking uncle sam, and all his efficient coast patrol both on sea and the land. then a throbbing sound reached their ears; at the same time they could notice how the men no longer rough-housed among themselves. on the contrary they began to gather at a small wharf built so that a boat could draw alongside, and let the cargo be transferred to the waiting trucks for further transportation. perk again touched his best pal's arm, to whisper: "boat's a kickin' up agin the current, an' gettin' nigh here," he said. "okay, but put a stopper on your tongue, matey--eyes are all we need right now--maybe ears as well, to pick up anything that's said worth while." thus crushed perk fell back, and concentrated his observation upon the stirring little night drama that would soon be moving along at full speed--a common enough event it must be, judging by the long security from interruption these reckless worthies had enjoyed. the strong glare of a large searchlight down on the waterway grew brighter continually, showing that the approaching boat must be close at hand. presently they were able to make her out, although almost dazzled by the brilliant light up in her bow, rendered necessary by the snags and rocks scattered at intervals all along the yamasaw. no sooner had the boat been warped to the dock than men flocked aboard, and began to tote the heaped-up heavy sacks ashore. there could be not the shadow of a doubt concerning the nature of their contents, for occasionally the eagerly listening trio caught the sound of flint glass striking against a similar clinking object; and when one sack seemed to accidentally come open, jack caught the sheen of the light on a serried row of bottles, all bearing foreign labels. he even saw the man carrying the same swiftly crib a bottle, and conceal it under a friendly strip of wood, as though laying by a means for conviviality at a later hour. taken in all it was a rather tempting spectacle for a pair of secret service bloodhounds to find spread out before their admiring eyes. jack was priming his ears so as to catch any careless words spoken by these men landing the cargo fetched from one of those mother ships standing by off the shore. even a name spoken would be treasured in hopes of it eventually turning the scrutiny of uncle sam's vigilant enforcers of the revenue laws upon some party, who thus far had never once been suspected as allied with this formidable conspiracy. it did not take very long for the numerous workers to clear the decks and hold of the numerous staunch burlap sacks, each of which must have held possibly a full dozen quart bottles. some four stout men, apparently the crews of the two big motortrucks, kept busy loading the stuff aboard their cars. evidently they meant to cover the entire load under some hay that was heaped up close by, possibly fetched for this very purpose, the whole being well tucked down under a dingy looking but stout tarpaulin that could be roped securely by expert hands. yes, it was certainly all very interesting, and instructive as well, but then the three watchers were no novices, all of them having witnessed similar sights many times in the past. at least jack had reason to believe certain things that floated to his ears,--mostly names being mentioned by some of the talkative workers--might prove strong clues, that, being followed up to their logical conclusion, would bring interesting developments later on. this encouraged him very much, as he realized he was now in a position to reap some sort of harvest to pay for the hard work he had been putting in. now that the speed boat had been cleared of its heavy load there were movements aboard looking to a departure. it being already past midnight perhaps the master of the blockade runner--having been duly posted through some obscure means--knew just about where the government vessel from which he had the most to fear would be cruising at that hour; and figured it would be a wise move on his part to gain the high seas as soon as convenient. perk saw these actions with falling spirits--he had been so sure jack meant to begin operations without any delay that to thus let that swift contraband runner get away unscathed was really too bad. so he had to crouch there behind the network of bushes, and see the vessel back away from the rough-looking dock, swing around in the narrow but deep creek, and then disappear down-stream, the light of its glowing reflector gradually dying out as it drew farther away. "huh! nawthin' doin' seems like," perk was telling himself in bitter disappointment. "i'd a given a heap jest to slip one o' my bally time-bombs aboard that ere craft, so she'd bust into flames when far away down the river; but jack, he doant seem ready to hit the fust crack." next the two laden trucks pulled out, and could be heard bumping along the road, to take their chances of getting through without being stopped by either high-jackers or revenue men. "makin' straight fo' that same corduroy road as runs plumb through the marsh; an' headin' due north, too," perk further told himself, seeing that evidently trying to talk with his chum was taboo for the time being, "goin' up to baltimore, i reckon, whar they got a big taste fo' strong stuff, 'specially sech as comes in from abroad--reg'lar goods, with a big kick backin' same. huh!" jack had for some little time been looking earnestly first at the nearest campfire, and then diverting his gaze, seemed to stare over to where the outlaw plane rested. it was as though it might be waiting for some particular event, when possibly it would start off, after taking aboard certain valuables that would come by another airship from some point in the west indies, evading the customs, and giving a rich bonanza to whoever was interested in thus beating the government revenue. "i say, perk," he whispered in the ear of his mate. the other must have sensed something of unusual importance coming, for he displayed considerable eagerness as he moderated his own voice to its very lowest pitch, and made answer: "on deck, suh!" "that plane--i've been noticing how it's left high and dry there," jack was saying, significantly, perk thought. "shore is, suh," the latter went on, invitingly. "i figure that any clever lad might be able to creep close to the same--coming along by that line of bushes you can notice on the side away from the fires, and the big searchlights they use when a ship is taking off at night." "easy--reg'lar snap, i'd say, suh." "i've also figured out that it wouldn't be impossible for any clever lad to creep around from here without being seen, and so get in close grips with that same plane--how?" perk lifted his head a trifle, and appeared to study the conditions, which was not at all surprising since up to that minute it had never once occurred to him there would be any call upon him for such services. "i'd be tickled pink to tackle the job, suh--jest try me!" he finally declared, and at that without even asking why such a dangerous mission should enter into the head of his superior. "can you first of all sneak back to the boat, and pick up that little bottle you filled with gasoline before we left the crocodile?" "easy as all get aout, that's right, suh." "well, make sure you've got plenty of matches that strike without making any snap," warned jack; "because we have a chance to get rid of the first outlaw airship, and so make our initial dent in the ironclad syndicate!" chapter xxvi striking out jack was able to say all he did simply because they were separated from the nearest group of men by considerable distance; moreover, the pack persisted in talking and laughing, as though absolutely free from care, doubtless filled with the belief that their lot was a most enviable one--which apparently was the case. perk kept as tight a rein on his enthusiasm as he possibly could. he understood just what a perilous mission jack was entrusting to his sole care; and how success, or failure, would depend on his ability to measure up to the confidence reposed in him. "jest where am i to meet up with yeou agin, after i finish my job, suh?" he whispered; even trying to carry out his assumed character when there was really no need for such a thing, showing how the habit was apparently getting a pretty stiff grip on perk, it would seem. "when i think it's about time for you to start things going, we'll slip away, so as to be on our road when the fun gets hot and furious; they might begin to scour the whole neighborhood if they suspected some enemy of starting the racket. so look for us where jethro's boat's hidden. hold on, partner--come to think of it, give us a bit of a signal when you're on the job--nothing to attract their attention, you understand--just hold up your red handkerchief; but don't wave it, remember. then three minutes after you've done this--get busy!" "huh! leave that to me, boss--i gotter hunch a'ready jest haow that i kin work the game. so-long!" so matter-of-fact way his leave taking, so informal, that it was plain to be seen perk must be taking things coolly; a fact that pleased his chum vastly, jack told himself as the other crept away, heading along the back trail, and making no more noise than a writhing cotton-mouth moccasin snake might have done. jack and jethro waited as the minutes crept past. the latter being advised in low whispers just what was on the bill of fare, might have been heard to chuckle to himself when he finally understood--possibly he was feeling a bit disappointed because this particular mission had not been turned over to his care; but then he must have realized that he was having a share in everything that was attempted looking to the smashing of the powerful smuggler league, which conviction would give him the degree of satisfaction he craved. jack could not see how the minutes passed--the lack of good light prevented him from calculating from what the dial of his little wrist watch marked; so, having nothing else to do he commenced counting the seconds, and mentally figuring just how far perk might have progressed. now he would probably be creeping along into the density of the heavier growth, following the sinuosities of the path jethro had led them along--later on jack decided the other half of the crocodile's crew would have arrived at the spot where jethro's powerboat was hidden back of the friendly natural screen. he gave perk a certain stretch of time to gather what he had come after; and then in his mind followed him all the way back to the vicinity of the hostile camp. for amusement jack had many a time trained his fancy along such paths as he was now following out; so that really he had become quite an expert in painting similar mind pictures. and now perk must be diligently following up his maneuvers by sneaking along on hands and knees, keeping well out of the sight of those carousing near the blazing fires. when in the nature of things jack finally concluded the other should have reached his objective, he craned his neck, and started to keep close tabs on the motionless airplane. even as he thus looked he discovered a small object that he felt sure could be nothing else than perk's dingy old bandanna, which he so often wore about his neck, cowboy fashion, when on duty aboard their crate. one minute he saw this object, and then it vanished utterly from view. well, that fact rendered his belief more certain--perk was on deck as big as life; and in three minutes more he would have struck home--it was time he and jethro were fading out of the picture--making a silent exit from the scene, and be on their way. so jack touched his companion on the arm, and began to creep off, with the other close after him. they succeeded in passing from the near vicinity of the illumination inside the appointed three minutes, after which jack listened intently as he kept moving, ready to be duly thrilled by an outbreak and commotion announcing the discovery of the blazing crate there on the sloping runway. just as he figured it all turned out--without warning loud yells and whoops rang out, telling that every man-jack in the camp must have suddenly made the tremendous discovery that their waiting plane was wrapped in fiercely devouring flames; for the gasoline which perk had so carefully scattered here and there, would make a wonderful blaze on contact with fire. jack found himself speculating how perk must have managed so as to be on his way, possibly already secure back of the dense thicket, before the fire broke out; but all that could be explained later on. he remembered what the other had said about having a "hunch"; and jack, knowing how fertile his pal was in originating bright schemes, felt certain he had been able to rise to the occasion. he found himself laughing softly as the dreadful clamor rose higher and higher. in imagination he could even see how the startled smuggler crowd must be forced to keep their distance from the costly airship that was being reduced to ashes right before their eyes, with nothing to be done about it, such was the scorching heat accompanying the holocaust. when it was all over, with nothing remaining save the useless engine of the burned plane, doubtless there would follow a perfect hurricane of surmises as to how so mysterious a fire could have started. the most reasonable conclusion naturally would be that some spark from their camp fires might have been wafted toward the airship, and, still retaining its vigor, fallen upon a tiny pool of inflammable gasoline spilled when the tank had been last replenished. let them think what they pleased, it mattered nothing to jack--the one prime object of his self congratulation lay in the fact that their initial blow had been struck, and the contraband carriers of the air reduced by one useful factor. the volume of the shouts was gradually becoming less and less; which fact must have resulted from their placing more distance between themselves and the aroused camp; also through the men ceasing to give voice to their excitement, under the conviction that there was no possible remedy for the disaster--and then again the combine, being swollen with gross profits, could stand such a loss, so easily replaced. in due time jack and jethro approached their goal. it was to be hoped they would find perk already there; or that he must show up soon after they arrived. they lay among the bushes, and waited, jack knowing perk would be apt to give a certain little sound, very like the cheep of a night bird, such as they had frequently used under similar conditions. a few minutes later sure enough he caught the expected signal, which, upon being immediately answered brought a stooping figure reeling into view. jack hastened to reach for his chum's right hand which he wrung with considerable unction. "good old perk--you filled the bill okay, i'm telling you, my pal! that's one ship less for them to use in their business--we've made a small dent in their armor, and let's hope there's plenty more still coming to them." perk, though breathing hard, was also emitting queer sounds that announced his feeling of complete satisfaction. jethro also insisted on giving him a generous handshake, to let him know how tickled he felt over seeing those he hated so fiercely meet with their first loss. "gosh all hemlock! but things did work smooth, let me tell you-all," perk finally gasped, unable to repress his exultant feelings any longer, despite his lack of wind. "say, she whooped things up right stunnin', when the slow match it got its work in--i'd say she did fellers!" "slow-match, did you say, brother?" asked jack, having been given a hint on catching that significant word. "shore thing, ole hoss," perk told him, in high glee. "i amused myself while we was in that charleston hotel, amakin' up a lit twister i calc'lated might pan aout okay; an' she certain did me proud--took most two minutes fo' the spark to creep 'long an' touch things off. whoopee! didn't them bimbos kick up a reg'lar jamboree though, when the hull ship started in one big nest o' fire--nawthin' like a nice sprinklin' o' gas to make things hum." "shake hands again, wally, boy--it takes a cracker-jack like you to think up big things," and jack acted as though he took more genuine pleasure in having perk make such a "bulls-eye" than if he had occupied the spot-light himself. they dropped into the cockpit of the old but rejuvenated powerboat and were soon on their way back to the secreted airship. fortunately they ran across nothing hostile while carefully following the channel of the tortuous river; had another speedboat laden with contraband come along back of them they might have been hard put to hide, since the oncoming craft would of necessity be using a searchlight, so as to buck the villainous current, as well as avoid snags, and half hidden rocks. jack was ready to give full credit to jethro for his wonderful success in locating every such obstacle; once or twice they did happen to run softly up against a submerged tree-trunk; but the pilot had acute hearing, and sensed the fact that they were approaching such a dangerous snag; for he always reduced their speed, and the collision did no harm whatever. it took them double the time to get back to their hiding-place as when going forth, all because of that swift current; but in good order they finally arrived, somewhat weary, but feeling the uplifting ardor accompanying a perilous mission successfully carried out. now they meant to seek rest, and sleep. in the morning they would try and take things easy, having nothing to do while daylight lasted but eat, and doze, looking hopefully forward to making another such sally when darkness again covered the coast lands and waterways. perk must have been very contented with the fine showing he had made in their first assault on the enemy's lines of communication. he followed the example of his chum, lying down on one of the cots belonging to the cabin of the big amphibian--they had arranged blankets on the floor for jethro, after he had positively refused to take one of the cots, saying he was "used tuh knockin' around, an' takin' pot-luck when he felt sleepy"--and just before passing into dreamland himself jack heard his best pal mutter: "huh! fust blood fo' uncle sam's boys, which same is a good sign, i'd say!" chapter xxvii the luckless speedboat the night passed without anything in the nature of an alarm. once when jack chanced to wake up, he could catch the familiar pulsations of a cloud-chaser of an airship passing, at a considerable distance; and as near as he could figure, heading directly toward the rendezvous on the creek, where a descent would be made to the exact spot on which the other craft had so lately been mysteriously incinerated. "i wonder if that turns out to be our next victim," was what the listener said under his breath, as he dropped back to continue his sleep. in the morning it was deemed quite safe for perk to build a cooking fire well back of the rise, so that even though a boat should pass up or down the river curious eyes would not be apt to see anything suspicious. the air, too, was favorable, since it came from a direction to leeward of the water, which would carry such light smoke as arose from the small fire safely away. perk gave himself and two companions a very acceptable breakfast, all things considered. he was possessed of a fair amount of culinary skill; dearly loved to get up a camp meal, and satisfy the yearnings of his always empty stomach; and moreover had selected a number of such viands as would appeal to the taste of three hungry men, reduced to their own cookery. afterwards perk kept himself busy doing a number of things that had some connection with their comfort along the "grub line," as he termed it. jethro seemed content to just take things comfortably; while jack found an abundance of employment in making up his notes. this was carried out in the code language, so that if he had the hard luck to fall into the hands of the enemy they would not be able to discover what all the queer marks really stood for--without a knowledge concerning the key it would seem more or less like the silly scribbling of a child. then, too, jack allowed himself to figure out what would be the nature of their next undertaking, following out their plan for striking telling blows at everything that helped to build up the strategic working of the smuggler ring's illicit business. "it should be tried out if another of those speedboats makes shore while we're hanging around up there," he told himself, after one of these spells of deep thinking; "anything that goes to create a feeling of genuine consternation in that mob comes along our line of action. we've prepared for all those kind of little surprises, and mustn't lose any chance that drifts our way, that's absolutely certain. well, we'll wait and see what turns up to-night." at noon perk once again disappeared back of the screen of brush, vines and dense foliage, to concoct another fragrant and much relished meal. at night they would have to fare on cold stuff, as jack hesitated to risk the glow of a fire so near the river, where some sort of boat might be passing, with a chance of discovery that would spell disaster to all their pet schemes. as the afternoon moved along jack cast uneasy glances up at the sky, where openings in the heavy belt of trees allowed of a fragmentary survey. "seems a little like rain, fellows," he told his mates; whereupon both of the others took a good look, and pronounced their several opinions. jethro, jack found, proved to be one of those natural weather oracles such as may occasionally be run across among the natives in southern sections of the country; and his opinion struck both the others as sound and reasonable. he even in his quaint fashion, and in the lingo of cracker land, explained on what he based his prophecy that, while the clouds might persist there would be no rain fall inside of twelve to twenty hours; although beyond that he was not prepared to say, and felt there was a fair chance the clouds would wet things pretty well before giving way to clear skies again. "mebbe then we kin put in one more good blast 'fore we git housed up here in aour houseboat," perk advanced, as both his opinion and his secret wish. "let's hope so," jack told him, to bolster up his already drooping spirits. "anyhow, if it hasn't started to rain when we're ready to pull out to-night, it's agreed we'll not hold back on account of a little ducking." "yeou sed it, buddy," perk snapped with avidity, accompanying the words with one of his old-time grins, that told of renewed expectation of fresh achievement. so after they had partaken of some cold refreshment to stay their hunger, they completed their preparations for sallying forth to inflict further damage on the enemy, and add to their consternation by all possible measures. their course was identical with that pursued on the former occasion. it was darker than on the previous night, owing no doubt to the curtain of clouds that shut off even the friendly starlight. jethro, however, proved to be equal to his task, and as they made but comparatively slow progress down the swift running stream managed to steer his boat without colliding with the obstacles lying in wait. these bobbed up now to the right, and again to the left--seething little whirlpools, and ugly pointed rocks, but partially out of water--just as in days of old in grecian seas, mariners had to keep clear of scylla and charybdis, two monsters who threatened their craft with destruction,--the whirlpool on one hand, and a cruel-fanged monster rock on the other. they eventually reached the spot for which they aimed, and again was the powerboat screened behind that accommodating natural curtain. then, after a little delay while gathering certain things (the possession of which would save a tedious trip back to the boat, such as had been perk's portion on that other occasion) the trio began their long crawl, with the idea of locating that inviting spot from whence they could view the camp, and yet be out of sight of the rough characters making up the working force of the smugglers. to the dismay of perk there was no airship awaiting action at the spot of the previous night's blaze. evidently the one jack had heard pass over--and of which he had informed both his comrades--must have passed out again to where the mother-ship lay at anchor; or else possibly sped back to some island like the depot at bimini, where another cargo could be taken on. "but they mebbe might slip in some time to-night," perk told himself, in deadly fear that they were to have all their work for nothing, which would certainly have been too bad, and must grieve the honest fellow terribly. as for jack, he chanced to be thinking in quite a different direction. it began to grow somewhat monotonous, just lying there and listening to what hilarious jokes and slangy conversation passed between the rough hired workers, smoking and drinking alongside the comfortable fires. it was now getting along toward midnight, and they had been lying in that cramped condition for several hours. some of the men had thrown themselves down near the fires, as though to pick up some sleep; but sagacious jack noticed an air of expectation among them as a whole, which assured him they anticipated some fresh arrival, whether from the air or the river of course he could not say with certainty. presently he did notice that two of men who appeared to be leaders walked down to the crude wharf, and seemed to be changing things around as though preparing for coming shipments of contraband stuff. "i figure it's going to be a boat," he told himself on seeing this movement--"they've had word of its coming, i reckon through that powerful radio station on the coast, which we're given orders to find, and knock out of business." and a boat it proved to be, for shortly afterwards jack caught a distant sound as of an engine working; and since it did not come from above it must be moving up the stream, having some time before entered at the mouth of the yamasaw. before long they could detect the strong light that bore upstream, to show the pilot where to keep the nose of his craft. later, the speedboat was tied to the dock by a capable hawser, and the labor of taking her heavy cargo ashore began. of course there was nothing that could be done to interfere with the landing of the contraband, and its being loaded on the waiting trucks. their orders had been along different lines--they were to try and hurt the operations of the daring smuggler ring, kill it off if possible; but under no consideration risk the betrayal of their plan of campaign by trying to hinder some of the goods that were landed from reaching their far-away destinations as scheduled. jack, watching closely, soon saw the parties who manned the speedboat seemed in no particular hurry to start back down the river. having delivered their valuable load of wet goods in security, they ran no risk of being seized by a revenue cutter, or contraband-chaser, if dawn should find them close off shore. the two officers were sitting at a rough table chatting with several of the leading smugglers, and drinking something that looked like real champagne; while the balance of the crew had mingled with the campers, and seemed to be taking an hour or so off. jack having kept close tabs on all that went on felt confident there was not a single man aboard the speedboat. his hoped for opportunity was at hand, and no time must be lost. so, having previously notified his mates what he meant to attempt, he now left them, carrying some small bundle along, the nature of which perk understood very well since it was he himself who had hooked up the fire bomb with the time-clockwork that could be set for any minute necessary--and which was now arranged two hours ahead. jack soon found himself alongside the boat; and watching his chance he slipped aboard. he was not over five minutes at work, when he again appeared in the shadows alongside the rough wharf, from whence he readily made the shore. when he a little afterwards rejoined his companions the order must have been given for the crew to get aboard, as the boat was scheduled to take off, perhaps to head for charleston, or georgetown, to pick up needed supplies that were regular, and not in the contraband class. those ashore gave their allies a round of cheers before the vessel vanished down the stream--why not when they surely had not anything to fear in the line of discovery? those sneaking secret service agents had never bothered them seriously ever since the headquarters rendezvous was stationed at this hard to reach point on the twisting, turbulent yamasaw. "we'll hang out here for another hour and more," jack whispered to his two backers. "i'm hoping to pick up some more valuable points from hearing the men chaffing one another--i'd give a lot just to know where that radio sending and receiving station is located, as it would save us considerable trouble in combing the entire coast of south carolina." "yeah," perk was saying, oh! so softly--no one hearing his customary manner of speech would ever imagine he could modulate his voice so wonderfully--"an' i shore reckons we kin see the fine light that's laid aout for fo'th o' july celebration on this late fall night, jest as good up hyah as daown thar." "a heap better, wally," jack assured him. the time passed tediously to active perk. he had listened eagerly as long as the sound of the working engines of the elegant speedboat could be heard down the river; but by degrees they grew fainter, until even keen-eared perk was unable to place them. long afterwards he drew the attention of his mates to what seemed a queer illumination up in the clouded heavens toward the southeast. "huh! kinder seems like sumpin' might be agoin' on over yonder, suh," was what he said in jack's ears; "which i has a most pow'ful notion has to do with aour purty racin' boat what's more'n likely kicked her heels at many a rev'nue cutter that couldn't close in on her nohaow." "you said it that time, wally," jack assured him, feeling a little thrill himself over the probable success of his attempt at wiping out yet another of those swift air and water vehicles engaged in doing the transportation for the wholesale smugglers' combination. some of those in the camp had by this time also taken note of the tell-tale crimson stain on the low-hanging clouds, for they began to watch it in considerable surprise, as well as uneasiness. what had happened on the preceding night was only too fresh in their minds for them to forget the unaccountable nature of the disaster. "gosh! we shore got 'em guessin', partner," perk was saying, softly, after they were once more aboard the old and faithful powerboat, with cat-eyed jethro at the steering wheel, guiding the boat's destinies by sheer intuition and good hearing combined. "looks that way, brother," was the other's terse but eloquent reply. they met with no accident while on their way back to their "location," as perk sometimes referred to the hidden camp, he having been out with companies of hollywood people when making pictures demanding rural surroundings, and consequently picking up a few of their customary designations. they had just managed to get safely aboard the amphibian when the first rain-drop came down; and in less than ten minutes it was pouring; evidently nature herself was in league with jack and his allies to favor their undertakings in a friendly as well as most admirable fashion. chapter xxviii ready for another blow that rain put a damper on their plans, all right, for it kept up intermittently for many hours. to be sure, they were comfortable enough, housed in the cabin of the big amphibian, and with plenty of good "eats" at hand, as well as soft drinks in abundance--what a grand forager that same perk would make if the occasion should ever arrive where it was necessary to "live off the country," as many an invading army has found itself compelled to do. at least neither of his companions had any cause to "knock" the said perk for the least dereliction along the line of supplies--backed by abundant resources in the way of funds, supplied by a generous republic, he always found it a pleasure to lay in stock--and help make way with the same in addition, it must be confessed. when night came there was no clear spot in all the heavens--only a vast gray curtain shrouding everything in gloom. and through the night at regular intervals fresh showers arrived to further moisten things. jack knew there would be nothing doing on the following night, since, even if the persistent clouds did choose to disperse, the ground and bushes would be much too well saturated for them to think of crawling on hands or knees, or "snaking" it along on their stomachs, so close to the hostile camp--they must exercise their patience, and await yet another twenty-four hours. this long stretch of idleness was especially hard on poor perk. from the day of his birth he had always been a "doer," and no shirk; so that when compelled to just "loaf around sucking his thumbs," as he so eloquently described the situation, he felt absolutely dejected. indeed, there were times when jack had to almost use force in the effort to compel his near pal to "hold his horses," and wait for the sky to clear up. perk grumbled, and incessantly poked his head out of the cabin to ascertain if the expected break was yet in sight. so another night gathered its shades about them; but they had seen the sun go down amidst a generous flush, which welcome sign of fair weather in the offing was accepted as most promising. "hot-diggetty-dig!" perk was heard to say time and time again, as he prepared the evening meal; from which service he seemed to extract a meed of comfort; "mebbe naow i aint joyful over the chanct to be doin' somethin' once more. never could keep my head straight when things they kept agoin' ev'ry which way fo' sunday. an' i'm shore all a twist to help knock yet another ship silly--the more the merrier sez i--we gotter to pound it inter the nobs o' them ducks they caint meddle with a buzz saw owned by unc. sam, an' git away with hit. ev'rybody pull up to the table--soup's on." which it was for a fact, since he had heated up a tin of excellent vegetable concoction that helped warm them up--the continual rain having chilled the air, and made things "shivery," as perk kept saying disconsolately enough. it was a long night to every one in the little company. they had dozed so often during the last two days, that nobody felt very much like turning in; and at that slept fitfully; so that never was a dawn welcomed more heartily than daylight on the next morning. the sun soon brought a fresh cheer with it, and as there was not a single cloud in the blue skies it looked as though by evening things would have dried up in a way to please the entire trio, with an opportunity for work at hand. again did perk go over the list of things they would necessarily take along, not intending there should arise any hitch in the plan through want of forethought on his part. the start was made in complete darkness. jack found himself hoping that their luck might stay by them for another spell; and that jethro, who up to that hour had done so exceptionally well, might be able to keep up the good work. it was bound to be a bit more difficult reaching their former hiding place, for several good reasons, jack figured. in the first place the gloom that wrapped such a cloak about them would cause their guide additional trouble, in order to avoid coming into rough collision with one of those ambushing snags, or half concealed rocks. then again by this time they might expect the suspicions of their enemies must have been more or less awakened, making them more watchful, also restless. probably those at the camp rendezvous may have before then been informed concerning the mysterious burning of the speedboat carrier of contraband stuff, while on the way down the yamasaw heading for the sea. that significant fact, coupled with the destruction of the airship within hand-throw of their campfires, would surely begin to awaken certain fears to the extent that some strange series of disasters had overtaken the long run of luck they had been enjoying in landing all their precious cargoes without a single break. jack noticed how their cracker guide kept on his way at a slower speed, and he found himself mentally commending this degree of caution. evidently jethro too, was bent on making certain nothing in the line of an upset to their game could be laid at his door. just after they started the sound of a motor was clearly heard, and somehow every head was immediately lifted toward the heavens; for there could not be any difficulty in realizing the racket came from that quarter, making it clear an airship was passing by. "there she blows, mates!" perk breathed, exultantly. "things air aworkin' agin in aour favor, seems like. go it, ole boy; we got yeour number, and kin fix yeou aout right smart." "lower your voice if you must speak, wally," cautioned jack, apprehensively, since there was no knowing what the darkness concealed from their eyes. "but she's amakin' fo' that same camp, i kinder gu-reckon--aint she, boss?" continued the irrepressible perk. "to be sure," jack told him; "and now please dry up, brother." the clatter died away, from which they fancied the incoming ship must have made a successful landing. in imagination perk could vision what was taking place--the eager workers picking up whatever the pilots of the air carrier tossed out of their spacious cabin, and possibly loading the same on some waiting truck, or at least a speedy automobile, functioned by a capable chauffeur, who had interest in the stake. onward they continued, and all kept going well, from which fact jack figured that thus far the smugglers had not deemed it essential to have videttes posted along the river, in order to keep tabs on what might be going on. to himself jack was deciding that, should they be fortunate enough to make way with yet another cargo carrier on this present night, he would feel it judicious to change his base of attack, and go after that mysterious radio sending station, without which the plans of the lawless crowd would be just about "knocked on the head." "they must be depending absolutely on the information that passes between the mother ship and the shore, to shape all these successful landings," was the way he mentally put it; "and once we put the kibosh on that secret radio shop their hands will be tied; so that the regular force of coast guards, backed by the fast revenue cutters, and speedboats taken over by the government, will be able to keep things down at a low ebb." much depended on whether they would be able to accomplish a third stroke, so as to complete the perplexity, and awaken the concern of the smugglers. jack felt tolerably certain that once they had aroused a lively feeling bordering on _fear_ among those rough men, they would be apt to magnify things, and fancy that the long arm of the law was reaching out with irresistible power, to clutch them with remorseless tenacity, and start them on the road to the penitentiary at atlanta. that was his present goal--if only he might institute a reign of apprehension among them the end would be in sight--from the beginning this had taken its place in his mind as the main object of his crusade; and so it meant a great deal for them to hit again at the enemy without any further delay. arriving at the place where the powerboat was to be secreted they soon found themselves making for the vicinity of the camp, the fires of which served them as a target, such as pilots on a crooked florida river use in order to avoid pitfalls in the shape of snags along their course. when they were once more installed in their customary shelter perk saw with a feeling of vast relief that sure enough another plane was in sight. chapter xxix jethro takes a hand "lookey, jack, it's a crate 'bout like ourn--an amphibian, an' a beaut in the bargain. what great luck, oh boy!" was what perk was whispering into his chum's ear. "i see it--let up on the talk,--we've got to plan quick, for fear the ship takes off again!" jack told him, vexed because his pal seemed unable to bridle his tongue when silence was what they most needed. he could see the two men who had come with the amphibian, since they were still wearing their service togs, and helmets. they seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely with some of the occupants of the main camp; as though in a high humor because of their successful flight, and safe arrival. "what kinder ship be that, partner?" demanded the one who could not be effectually squelched. "i don't know--looks mighty like one of those new multi-motored kingbirds, with a big cabin that might hold a dozen passengers. now please hold your breath, wally, and let me _think_--we've got to work fast for they'll take off any time now." jack having already about decided on their line of action was not long in reaching a conclusion. it was to be the turn of jethro now--he had promised the other he should have his inning, under the conviction that the guide had earned a right to strike one good blow, so as to feel he had thus avenged his family wrongs at the hands of john haddock. a hurried consultation in whispers followed. then jethro backed away, with some object carefully tucked under an arm. when he was beyond the range of their limited observation jack touched perk on the arm. "we're moving our base, brother," he told him most cautiously. "jethro has only a regular bomb to set, and will have to scuttle out of that in something of a hurry. they may start a search, and come this way; so we ought to be on our way to the boat." "shucks! naow aint that jest too bad--yeou're abreakin' my heart, boss--i shore did want to see that ship smashed to flinders," whispered the chagrined perk. "we may yet--i know of another place further back, where it'd be safe for us to stop, and then hurry off after it happens." in this fashion then did jack smother the budding mutiny on perk's part; so they began their retrograde movement, with all their senses on the alert to avoid any hovering danger. from all the indications jack had already guessed the smugglers were on nettles and pins concerning the meaning of the late disasters that had struck their hitherto smooth running machine--they had been turning their heads this way and that, as if uneasy, casting frequent anxious glances toward the big and costly airship (that undoubtedly had only lately become a regular visitor at the rendezvous camp), as if tempted to believe it too might suddenly burst into flames, as though some mysterious and powerful electrical ray were at work, bringing destruction in its wake. arriving at the back refuge mentioned by observing jack, they crouched down and waited for whatever was fated to come to pass. jack himself felt a bit anxious, wondering whether it had been a wise thing to allow inexperienced jethro to handle this last hazard--what if he managed to make a mess of it in spite of his good intentions, and all the teaching he, jack, had given him? on the other hand there was always a possibility that some restless member of the gang suddenly decide to step over, and see if everything was well with the expensive addition to their air force--should such an investigator run smack up against their cracker guide in the act of setting his bomb, the result might be a premature explosion that would prove disasterous to poor jethro, even though it also destroyed the expensive ship. perk was holding his breath with eagerness, only taking an occasional gulph when it became absolutely necessary. jack, too, admitted to feeling his usually well trained nerves tingling with mingled sensations as the minutes crept on and nothing came to pass. then suddenly without the slightest warning it happened--there was a most dazzling illumination, very like a nearby flash of lightning, and accompanied by a frightful explosion that actually almost caused the two watchers to fall flat on their backs. they had a glimpse however, of a vast upheaval, as the new amphibian was cast up skyward in fragments, even the weighty motors being hurled aloft, to speedily come back to earth with dreadful force. every man in the camp had been blown off his feet, and could be seen toppling in all directions. jack clutched perk by the arm, and gave him a tug which the other understood meant they must cut for the boat with another instant's delay. the last thing they glimpsed was the various prostrate figures scrambling to their feet, and naturally hurrying forward, risking being injured by the still falling fragments of what had so recently been a beautiful sample of the very latest up-to-date cabin tri-motored passenger airship, sponsored, if jack had guessed rightly, by one of the foremost building corporations known to the world of aviation. they managed to arrive in safety at their goal, and to jack's great relief found faithful jethro awaiting their coming, full to the brim with joy over the consummation of his scheme for revenge long since over-due. the clamor from the camp was still at high ebb, men shouting all manner of exciting things, as they endeavored to recover their wits enough to try and figure out what it could all mean. once upon the river and the fugitives began to make some sort of speed. no longer did they feel any necessity for using caution, save to avoid the traps formed by those persistent snags, and other obstructions to a safe passage. no one could overtake them, thanks to the speed of the old reconstructed powerboat, as well as the skill of its pilot; and once they reached the hidingplace of their amphibian how easy for them to take to the air, leaving jethro's boat where the plane had been hidden? then for the grand climax to their adventure--finding the secret radio station, and sending it in the wake of the destroyed speedboat, also the two smuggler airships that would no longer carry contraband loads across land and water from nearby foreign islands, or mother ships anchored off the east coast. chapter xxx the wind-up--conclusion they found it easy enough to get up speed with the assistance of the current, and then take off, when a clear streak of water was reached. rising to a fair ceiling jack headed south, and the night flight was on. he let perk take over the controls before a great while, while once again he studied his charts, well marked from previous searchings. so went the long hours, with numerous turnings as the humor urged; for they were now only killing time, and waiting for the dawn to come. no sooner was it light than jack again settled down at the stick, with the ship headed toward his intended goal. he had good reason to believe his information to be correct, and that before many hours they would be able to cash in on the prospect, kill the efficiency of the outlaw radio station to do further injury, and bring the operations of the great smuggler league to a wind-up, which was all the government asked of him. nine o'clock in the morning found them on the coast, and approaching a certain wild district where no man was supposed to have his habitation--even the shanties of the spring fishermen were conspicuous by their absence--the place was so lonely, so isolated, so storm-swept, that the bravest of coast dwellers did not have the nerve to carry on their daily avocation along the line of fishing, or wild-fowl shooting, amidst such desolate surroundings. all of which had made it an ideal spot for an unregistered radio base; and jack believed his hunch was a true one when he decided he would find the end of his trail where he was now heading. a little distance back of the beach, beyond the scrub and dead grass, there had for many years been known to exist a strange looking object, almost falling in ruins now; but which at one time had been a well built tower, more or less fashioned after the type of a coast lighthouse, since it had winding stairs within, and a room at the top, from which a wonderful view of the sea could be obtained. jack knew the brief history of that queer tower--how it had been built long years back by a retired sea captain, whose heart was still faithful to his beloved salt-water; and who, desirous of dying within the sound of the breakers had spent almost his last dollar in having this peculiar tower erected, strong enough with its rocky walls to defy the elements that usually played such rough pranks along this particular stretch of shore. some people of a romantic turn of mind even said the old captain had lost his wife and daughter in a wreck close by that very part of the coast, which fact had been mainly instrumental in his carrying out his queer conceit. after all, he had really died there, being found lifeless by a party of shipwrecked men who chanced to reach land at that place, and anticipated being fed and warmed by some genial light keeper, only to discover but a dead man there. a nephew had seen to his burial, stripped the "observatory" of everything of value, and forsook all else. now the tower was a near-ruin, and in danger of toppling when some unusually severe gale swept the water over the sand ridge, and against the "castle" wall. when perk glimpsed the object of their solicitude far away jack brought his ship down on the beach, and taxied back to where he had reason to believe it would be safe from the highest tide. then they set out to stalk their intended prey, keeping far enough back so as to avoid being detected by any trained eyes from the room in the top of the dead sea captain's lone tower. by noon they had gained enough distance to be able to keep watch on the tower through means of perk's glasses. they soon discovered signs of life about the place, which fact gratified them greatly; surely no rational human being would ever take up his abode in that ramshackle affair unless he had some unusually important reason for so doing, such was its inaccessibility, and lonesome condition, there being not even duck shooting available, while the fishing must be equally _non est_. by one o'clock they were able to figure that there were just two men in the tower, which reckoning allowed the formation of a concrete plan of action. it appeared that just one of these fellows was on duty at a time, the other apparently being free to wander off, if the notion struck him. possibly, too, most of their work came along after night had set in, since business picked up at that hour. "the next time either one steps out to take a little saunter i'll follow in a roundabout way, and nab him when he isn't dreaming of danger. after i've stopped him from giving the alarm, and putting his mate on guard i'll give a signal for you lads to swing around and approach the junk-shop by keeping hidden behind that sand hill. once i get my foot on the steps leading up inside the tower it'll be all over but the shouting. soak that in, both of you boys?" which they said they would; and so jack a little later on, crept off, exercising great care as he picked up his duty to keep hidden from those lookout windows at the summit of the said tower. he managed to take up a position where it was most likely the walker would pass close by, and there he stood, sheltered from view. the chap was amazingly stunned to have something thrust him in the back, and to hear a stern voice say: "not a single word or you're a dead man! we've got the tower surrounded, even if you don't see my men; and the game is played out. you're under arrest for sending out illegal radio calls that are in the interest of coast smugglers and other criminal parties. silence now, or i'll crack you over the head." it was almost what perk would call a "picnic," things fell into their hands so easily. having bound and gagged his prisoner jack made his way back to a point close to the leaning tower, when he gave the promised signal; and was speedily joined by his two mates. after that they all three went cautiously up the winding stairs, and suddenly took the remaining radio man by surprise, by covering him with three guns, and cowing him in the bargain. realizing that the game was queered he did not dare take desperate chances by putting up any resistance; simply grinning, and holding out his hands for jack to slip the bracelets over his wrists. "now," explained jack, "the only thing we want to do is to take some of this stuff along to prove we've demolished the offending radio-sending station; after which it's up to uncle sam to see that this scotched snake doesn't show its head again along the same lines--we will have finished our job in first-class shape, and can take up something else, for to be sure there's work aplenty for us secret service lads." before this was carried out jack secured a fine picture of the old leaning coast tower, as well as its interior, showing the radio sending outfit just as they found it. this being accomplished as positive evidence that could not be successfully disputed, they put aside such material as could be readily transported in the cabin of their amphibian, and then sent the racketty tower high up in the air, to fall in fragments on the beach. after that all of them boarded the ship, and they set out for charleston, to drop jethro--who would sooner or later hear from the two chums, as well as receive a fat reward for the part he had taken in rounding up the smuggler gang, and putting that mischievous radio out of the running--also turning over the two prisoners to the care of mr. herriott, as representative of the legal branch of the government. what became of them jack and perk neither knew nor cared, as other equally thrilling happenings soon came along to occupy their time and attention, to the exclusion of matters that were now "has-beens," hull down in the past. they first of all turned over that admirable amphibian, the remodeled curtiss cabin twin-motored ship, to the authorities; and when they left charleston it was aboard their own familiar plane, the big fokker. in some succeeding volume it may be taken for granted we shall again meet those two interesting aerial soldiers of fortune, jack ralston and perk, doing their perilous stunts in some other field of adventure, the narration of whose exploits may form the basis of the next book in this _sky detective series_. the end. the man with the clubfoot by valentine williams author of "the secret hand," "the yellow streak," "the return of clubfoot," "the orange divan," "clubfoot the avenger" what this story is about "the man with the clubfoot" is one of the most ingenious and sinister secret agents in europe. it is to him that the task is assigned of regaining possession of an indiscreet letter written by the kaiser. desmond okewood, a young british officer with a genius for secret service work, sets out to thwart this man and, incidentally, discover the whereabouts of his brother. he penetrates into germany disguised, and meets with many thrilling adventures before he finally achieves his mission. in "the man with the clubfoot," valentine williams has written a thrilling romance of mystery, love and intrigue, that in every sense of the word may be described as "breathless." chapter i. i seek a bed in rotterdam ii. the cipher with the invoice iii. a visitor in the night iv. destiny knocks at the door v. the lady of the vos in't tuintje vi. i board the berlin train and leave a lame gentleman on the platform vii. in which a silver star acts as a charm viii. i hear of clubfoot and meet his employer ix. i encounter an old acquaintance who leads me to a delightful surprise x. a glass of wine with clubfoot xi. miss mary prendergast risks her reputation xii. his excellency the general is worried xiii. i find achilles in his tent xiv. clubfoot comes to haase's xv. the waiter at the café regina xvi. a hand-clasp by the rhine xvii. francis takes up the narrative xviii. i go on with the story xix. we have a reckoning with clubfoot xx. charlemagne's ride xxi. red tabs explains the man with the clubfoot chapter i i seek a bed in rotterdam the reception clerk looked up from the hotel register and shook his head firmly. "very sorry, saire," he said, "not a bed in ze house." and he closed the book with a snap. outside the rain came down heavens hard. every one who came into the brightly lit hotel vestibule entered with a gush of water. i felt i would rather die than face the wind-swept streets of rotterdam again. i turned once more to the clerk who was now busy at the key-rack. "haven't you really a corner? i wouldn't mind where it was, as it is only for the night. come now..." "very sorry, saire. we have two gentlemen sleeping in ze bathrooms already. if you had reserved..." and he shrugged his shoulders and bent towards a visitor who was demanding his key. i turned away with rage in my heart. what a cursed fool i had been not to wire from groningen! i had fully intended to, but the extraordinary conversation i had had with dicky allerton had put everything else out of my head. at every hotel i had tried it had been the same story--cooman's, the maas, the grand, all were full even to the bathrooms. if i had only wired.... as i passed out into the porch i bethought myself of the porter. a hotel porter had helped me out of a similar plight in breslau once years ago. this porter, with his red, drink-sodden face and tarnished gold braid, did not promise well, so far as a recommendation for a lodging for the night was concerned. still... i suppose it was my mind dwelling on my experience at breslau that made me address the man in german. when one has been familiar with a foreign tongue from one's boyhood, it requires but a very slight mental impulse to drop into it. from such slight beginnings do great enterprises spring. if i had known the immense ramification of adventure that was to spread its roots from that simple question, i verily believe my heart would have failed me and i would have run forth into the night and the rain and roamed the streets till morning. well, i found myself asking the man in german if he knew where i could get a room for the night. he shot a quick glance at me from under his reddened eyelids. "the gentleman would doubtless like a german house?" he queried. you may hardly credit it, but my interview with dicky allerton that afternoon had simply driven the war out of my mind. when one has lived much among foreign peoples, one's mentality slips automatically into their skin. i was now thinking in german--at least so it seems to me when i look back upon that night--and i answered without reflecting. "i don't care where it is as long as i can get somewhere to sleep out of this infernal rain!" "the gentleman can have a good, clean bed at the hotel sixt in the little street they call the vos in't tuintje, on the canal behind the bourse. the proprietress is a good german, jawohl ... frau anna schratt her name is. the gentleman need only say he comes from franz at the bopparder hof." i gave the man a gulden and bade him get me a cab. it was still pouring. as we rattled away over the glistening cobble-stones, my mind travelled back over the startling events of the day. my talk with old dicky had given me such a mental jar that i found it at first wellnigh impossible to concentrate my thoughts. that's the worst of shell-shock. you think you are cured, you feel fit and well, and then suddenly the machinery of your mind checks and halts and creaks. ever since i had left hospital convalescent after being wounded on the somme ("gunshot wound in head and cerebral concussion" the doctors called it), i had trained myself, whenever my brain was _en panne_, to go back to the beginning of things and work slowly up to the present by methodical stages. let's see then--i was "boarded" at millbank and got three months' leave; then i did a month in the little johns' bungalow in cornwall. there i got the letter from dicky allerton, who, before the war, had been in partnership with my brother francis in the motor business at coventry. dicky had been with the naval division at antwerp and was interned with the rest of the crowd when they crossed the dutch frontier in those disastrous days of october, . dicky wrote from groningen, just a line. now that i was on leave, if i were fit to travel, would i come to groningen and see him? "i have had a curious communication which seems to have to do with poor francis," he added. that was all. my brain was still halting, so i turned to francis. here again i had to go back. francis, rejected on all sides for active service, owing to what he scornfully used to call "the shirkers' ailment, varicose veins," had flatly declined to carry on with his motor business after dicky had joined up, although their firm was doing government work. finally, he had vanished into the maw of the war office and all i knew was that he was "something on the intelligence." more than this not even _he_ would tell me, and when he finally disappeared from london, just about the time that i was popping the parapet with my battalion at neuve chapelle, he left me his london chambers as his only address for letters. ah! now it was all coming back--francis' infrequent letters to me about nothing at all, then his will, forwarded to me for safe keeping when i was home on leave last christmas, and after that, silence. not another letter, not a word about him, not a shred of information. he had utterly vanished. i remembered my frantic inquiries, my vain visits to the war office, my perplexity at the imperturbable silence of the various officials i importuned for news of my poor brother. then there was that lunch at the bath club with sonny martin of the heavies and a friend of his, some kind of staff captain in red tabs. i don't think i heard his name, but i know he was at the war office, and presently over our cigars and coffee i laid before him the mysterious facts about my brother's case. "perhaps you knew francis?" i said in conclusion. "yes," he replied, "i know him well." "_know_ him," i repeated, "_know_ him then ... then you think ... you have reason to believe he is still alive...?" red tabs cocked his eye at the gilded cornice of the ceiling and blew a ring from his cigar. but he said nothing. i persisted with my questions but it was of no avail. red tabs only laughed and said: "i know nothing at all except that your brother is a most delightful fellow with all your own love of getting his own way." then sonny martin, who is the perfection of tact and diplomacy--probably on that account he failed for the diplomatic--chipped in with an anecdote about a man who was rating the waiter at an adjoining table, and i held my peace. but as red tabs rose to go, a little later, he held my hand for a minute in his and with that curious look of his, said slowly and with meaning: "when a nation is at war, officers on _active service_ must occasionally disappear, sometimes in their country's interest, sometimes in their own." he emphasised the words "on active service." in a flash my eyes were opened. how blind i had been! francis was in germany. chapter ii the cipher with the invoice red tabs' sphinx-like declaration was no riddle to me. i knew at once that francis must be on secret service in the enemy's country and that country germany. my brother's extraordinary knowledge of the germans, their customs, life and dialects, rendered him ideally suitable for any such perilous mission. francis always had an extraordinary talent for languages: he seemed to acquire them all without any mental effort, but in german he was supreme. during the year that he and i spent at consistorial-rat von mayburg's house at bonn, he rapidly outdistanced me, and though, at the end of our time, i could speak german like a german, francis was able, in addition, to speak bonn and cologne _patois_ like a native of those ancient cities--ay and he could drill a squad of recruits in their own language like the smartest _leutnant_ ever fledged from gross-lichterfelde. he never had any difficulty in passing himself off as a german. well i remember his delight when he was claimed as a fellow rheinländer by a german officer we met, one summer before the war, combining golf with a little useful espionage at cromer. i don't think francis had any ulterior motive in his study of german. he simply found he had this imitative faculty; philology had always interested him, so even after he had gone into the motor trade, he used to amuse himself on business trips to germany by acquiring new dialects. his german imitations were extraordinarily funny. one of his "star turns", was a noisy sitting of the reichstag with speeches by prince bülow and august bebel and "interruptions"; another, a patriotic oration by an old prussian general at a kaiser's birthday dinner. francis had a marvellous faculty not only of _seeming_ german, but even of almost looking like a german, so absolutely was he able to slip into the skin of the part. yet never in my wildest moments had i dreamt that he would try and get into germany in war-time, into that land where every citizen is catalogued and pigeonholed from the cradle. but red tabs' oracular utterance had made everything clear to me. why a mission to germany would be the very thing that francis would give his eyes to be allowed to attempt! francis with his utter disregard of danger, his love of taking risks, his impish delight in taking a rise out of the stodgy hun--why, if there were englishmen brave enough to take chances of that kind, francis would be the first to volunteer. yes, if francis were on a mission anywhere it would be to germany. but what prospect had he of ever returning--with the frontiers closed and ingress and egress practically barred even to pro-german neutrals? many a night in the trenches i had a mental vision of francis, so debonair and so fearless, facing a firing squad of prussian privates. from the day of the luncheon at the bath club to this very afternoon i had had no further inkling of my brother's whereabouts or fate. the authorities at home professed ignorance, as i knew, in duty bound, they would, and i had nothing to hang any theory on to until dicky allerton's letter came. ashcroft at the f.o. fixed up my passports for me and i lost no time in exchanging the white gulls and red cliffs of cornwall for the windmills and trim canals of holland. and now in my breast pocket lay, written on a small piece of cheap foreign notepaper, the tidings i had come to groningen to seek. yet so trivial, so nonsensical, so baffling was the message that i already felt my trip to holland to have been a fruitless errand. i found dicky fat and bursting with health in his quarters at the internment camp. he only knew that francis had disappeared. when i told him of my meeting with red tabs at the bath club, of the latter's words to me at parting and of my own conviction in the matter he whistled, then looked grave. he went straight to the point in his bluff direct way. "i am going to tell you a story first, desmond," he said to me, "then i'll show you a piece of paper. whether the two together fit in with your theory as to poor francis' disappearance will be for you to judge. until now i must confess--i had felt inclined to dismiss the only reference this document appears to make to your brother as a mere coincidence in names, but what you have told me makes things interesting--by jove, it does, though. well, here's the yarn first of all. "your brother and i have had dealings in the past with a dutchman in the motor business at nymwegen, name of van urutius. he has often been over to see us at coventry in the old days and francis has stayed with him at nymwegen once or twice on his way back from germany--nymwegen, you know, is close to the german frontier. old urutius has been very decent to me since i have been in gaol here and has been over several times, generally with a box or two of those nice dutch cigars." "dicky," i broke in on him, "get on with the story. what the devil's all this got to do with francis? the document--" "steady, my boy!" was the imperturbable reply, "let me spin my yarn my own way. i'm coming to the piece of paper.... "well, then, old urutius came to see me ten days ago. all i knew about francis i had told him, namely, that francis had entered the army and was missing. it was no business of the old mynheer if francis was in the intelligence, so i didn't tell him that. van u. is a staunch friend of the english, but you know the saying that if a man doesn't know he can't split. "my old dutch pal, then, turned up here ten days ago. he was bubbling over with excitement. 'mr. allerton' he says, 'i haf a writing, a most mysterious writing--a i think, from francis okewood.' "i sat tight. if there were any revelations coming they were going to be dutch, not british. on that i was resolved. "'i haf received;' the old dutchman went on, from gairemany a parcel of metal shields, plates--what you call 'em--of tin, _hein?_ what i haf to advertise my business. they arrife las' week--i open the parcel myself and on the top is the envelope with the invoice.' "mynheer paused; he has a good sense of the dramatic. "'well', i said, 'did it bite you or say "gott strafe england?" or what?' "van urutius ignored my flippancy and resumed. 'i open the envelope and there in the invoice i find this writing--here!' "and here," said dicky, diving into his pocket, "is the writing!" and he thrust into my eagerly outstretched hand a very thin half-sheet of foreign notepaper, of that kind of cheap glazed notepaper you get in cafes on the continent when you ask for writing materials. three lines of german, written in fluent german characters in purple ink beneath the name and address of mynheer van urutius ... that was all. my heart sank with disappointment and wretchedness as i read the inscription. here is the document: * * * * * herr willem van urutius, automobilgeschäft, nymwegen. _alexandtr-straat_ bis. berlin, iten juli, . o eichenholz! o eichenholz! wie leer sind deine blätter. wie achiles in dem zelte. wo zweie sich zanken erfreut sich der dritte. * * * * * (translation.) mr. willem van urutius, automobile agent, nymwegen. bis _alexander-straat._ berlin, st july, . o oak-tree! o oak-tree, how empty are thy leaves. like achiles in the tent. when two people fall out the third party rejoices. * * * * * i stared at this nonsensical document in silence. my thoughts were almost too bitter for words. at last i spoke. "what's all this rigmarole got to do with francis, dicky?" i asked, vainly trying to suppress the bitterness in my voice. "this looks like a list of copybook maxims for your dutch friend's advertisement cards...." but i returned to the study of the piece of paper. "not so fast, old bird," dicky replied coolly, "let me finish my story. old stick-in-the-mud is a lot shrewder than we think. "'when i read the writing,' he told me, 'i think he is all robbish, but then i ask myself, who shall put robbish in my invoices? and then i read the writing again and once again, and then i see he is a message.'" "stop, dicky!" i cried, "of course, what an ass i am! why _eichenholz_...." "exactly," retorted dicky, "as the old mynheer was the first to see, _eichenholz_ translated into english is 'oak-tree' or 'oak-wood'--in other words, francis." "then, dicky...." i interrupted. "just a minute," said dicky, putting up his hand. "i confess i thought, on first seeing this message or whatever it is, that there must be simply a coincidence of name and that somebody's idle scribbling had found its way into old van u.'s invoice. but now that you have told me that francis may have actually got into germany, then, i must say, it looks as if this might be an attempt of his to communicate with home." "where did the dutchman's packet of stuff come from?" i asked. "from the berlin metal works in steglitz, a suburb of berlin: he has dealt with them for years." "but then what does all the rest of it mean ... all this about achilles and the rest?" "ah, desmond!" was dicky's reply, "that's where you've got not only me, but also mynheer van urutius." "'o oak-wood! o oak-wood, how empty are thy leaves!'.... that sounds like a taunt, don't you think, dicky?" said i. "_or_ a confession of failure from francis ... to let us know that he has done nothing, adding that he is accordingly sulking 'like achilles in his tent.'" "but, see here, richard allerton," i said, "francis would never spell 'achilles' with one 'l' ... now, would he?" "by jove!" said dicky, looking at the paper again, "nobody would but a very uneducated person. i know nothing about german, but tell me, is that the hand of an educated german? is it francis' handwriting?" "certainly, it is an educated hand," i replied, "but i'm dashed if i can say whether it is francis' german handwriting: it can scarcely be because, as i have already remarked, he spells 'achilles' with one 'l.'" then the fog came down over us again. we sat helplessly and gazed at the fateful paper. "there's only one thing for it, dicky," i said finally, "i'll take the blooming thing back to london with me and hand it over to the intelligence. after all, francis may have a code with them. possibly they will see light where we grope in darkness." "desmond," said dicky, giving me his hand, "that's the most sensible suggestion you've made yet. go home and good luck to you. but promise me you'll come back here and tell me if that piece of paper brings the news that dear old francis is alive." so i left dicky but i did not go home. i was not destined to see my home for many a weary week. chapter iii a visitor in the night a volley of invective from the box of the cab--bad language in dutch is fearfully effective--aroused me from my musings. the cab, a small, uncomfortable box with a musty smell, stopped with a jerk that flung me forward. from the outer darkness furious altercation resounded above the plashing of the rain. i peered through the streaming glass of the windows but could distinguish nothing save the yellow blur of a lamp. then a vehicle of some kind seemed to move away in front of us, for i heard the grating of wheels against the kerb, and my cab drew up to the pavement. on alighting, i found myself in a narrow, dark street with high houses on either side. a grimy lamp with the word "hôtel" in half-obliterated characters painted on it hung above my head, announcing that i had arrived at my destination. as i paid off the cabman another cab passed. it was apparently the one with which my jehu had had words, for he turned round and shouted abuse into the night. my cabman departed, leaving me with my bag on the pavement at my feet, gazing at a narrow dirty door, the upper half of which was filled in with frosted glass. i was at last awake to the fact that i, an englishman, was going to spend the night in a german hotel to which i had been specially recommended by a german porter on the understanding that i was a german. i knew that, according to the dutch neutrality regulations, my passport would have to be handed in for inspection by the police and that therefore i could not pass myself off as a german. "bah!" i said to give myself courage, "this is a free country, a neutral country. they may be offensive, they may overcharge you, in a hun hotel, but they can't eat you. besides, any bed in a night like this!" and i pushed open the door. within, the hotel proved to be rather better than its uninviting exterior promised. there was a small vestibule with a little glass cage of an office on one side and beyond it an old-fashioned flight of stairs, with a glass knob on the post at the foot, winding to the upper stories. at the sound of my footsteps on the mosaic flooring, a waiter emerged from a little cubby-hole under the stairs. he had a blue apron girt about his waist, but otherwise he wore the short coat and the dicky and white tie of the continental hotel waiter. his hands were grimy with black marks and so was his apron. he had apparently been cleaning boots. he was a big, fat, blonde man with narrow, cruel little eyes. his hair was cut so short that his head appeared to be shaven. he advanced quickly towards me and asked me in german in a truculent voice what i wanted. i replied in the same language, i wanted a room. he shot a glance at me through his little slits of eyes on hearing my good bonn accent, but his manner did not change. "the hotel is full. the gentleman cannot have a bed here. the proprietress is out at present. i regret...." he spat this all out in the offhand insolent manner of the prussian official. "it was franz, of the bopparder hof, who recommended me to come here," i said. i was not going out again into the rain for a whole army of prussian waiters. "he told me that frau schratt would make me very comfortable," i added. the waiter's manner changed at once. "so, so," he said--quite genially this time--"it was franz who sent the gentleman to us. he is a good friend of the house, is franz. ja, frau schratt is unfortunately out just now, but as soon as the lady returns i will inform her you are here. in the meantime, i will give the gentleman a room." he handed me a candlestick and a key. "so," he grunted, "no. , the third floor." a clock rang out the hour somewhere in the distance. "ten o'clock already," he said. "the gentleman's papers can wait till to-morrow, it is so late. or perhaps the gentleman will give them to the proprietress. she must come any moment." as i mounted the winding staircase i heard him murmur again: "so, so, franz sent him here! ach, der franz!" as soon as i had passed out of sight of the lighted hall i found myself in complete darkness. on each landing a jet of gas, turned down low, flung a dim and flickering light a few yards around. on the third floor i was able to distinguish by the gas rays a small plaque fastened to the wall inscribed with an arrow pointing to the right above the figures: - . i stopped to strike a match to light my candle. the whole hotel seemed wrapped in silence, the only sound the rushing of water in the gutters without. then from the darkness of the narrow corridor that stretched out in front of me, i heard the rattle of a key in a lock. i advanced down the corridor, the pale glimmer of my candle showing me as i passed a succession of yellow doors, each bearing a white porcelain plate inscribed with a number in black. no. was the first room on the right counting from the landing: the even numbers were on the right, the odd on the left: therefore i reckoned on finding my room the last on the left at the end of the corridor. the corridor presently took a sharp turn. as i came round the bend i heard again the sound of a key and then the rattling of a door knob, but the corridor bending again, i could not see the author of the noise until i had turned the corner. i ran right into a man fumbling at a door on the left-hand side of the passage, the last door but one. a mirror at the end of the corridor caught and threw back the reflection of my candle. the man looked up as i approached. he was wearing a soft black felt hat and a black overcoat and on his arm hung an umbrella streaming with rain. his candlestick stood on the floor at his feet. it had apparently just been extinguished, for my nostrils sniffed the odour of burning tallow. "you have a light?" the stranger said in german in a curiously breathless voice. "i have just come upstairs and the wind blew out my candle and i could not get the door open. perhaps you could ..." he broke off gasping and put his hand to his heart. "allow me," i said. the lock of the door was inverted and to open the door you had to insert the key upside-down. i did so and the door opened easily. as it swung back i noticed the number of the room was , next door to mine. "can i be of any assistance to you? are you unwell?" i said, at the same time lifting my candle and scanning the stranger's features. he was a young man with close-cropped black hair, fine dark eyes and an aquiline nose with a deep furrow between the eyebrows. the crispness of his hair and the high cheekbones gave a suggestion of jewish blood. his face was very pale and his lips were blueish. i saw the perspiration glistening on his forehead. "thank you, it is nothing," the man replied in the same breathless voice. "i am only a little out of breath with carrying my bag upstairs. that's all." "you must have arrived just before i did," i said, remembering the cab that had driven away from the hotel as i drove up. "that is so," he answered, pushing open his door as he spoke. he disappeared into the darkness of the room and suddenly the door shut with a slam that re-echoed through the house. as i had calculated, my room was next door to his, the end room of the corridor. it smelt horribly close and musty and the first thing i did was to stride across to the windows and fling them back wide. i found myself looking across a dark and narrow canal, on whose stagnant water loomed large the black shapes of great barges, into the windows of gaunt and weather-stained houses over the way. not a light shone in any window. away in the distance the same clock as i had heard before struck the quarter--a single, clear chime. it was the regular bedroom of the _maison meublée_--worn carpet, discoloured and dingy wallpaper, faded rep curtains and mahogany bedstead with a vast _édredon_, like a giant pincushion. my candle, guttering wildly in the unaccustomed breeze blowing dankly through the chamber, was the sole illuminant. there was neither gas nor electric light laid on. the house had relapsed into quiet. the bedroom had an evil look and this, combined with the dank air from the canal, gave my thoughts a sombre tinge. "well," i said to myself, "you're a nice kind of ass! here you are, a british officer, posing as a brother hun in a cut-throat hun hotel, with a waiter who looks like the official prussian executioner. what's going to happen to you, young feller my lad, when madame comes along and finds you have a british passport? a very pretty kettle of fish, i must say! "and suppose madame takes it into her head to toddle along up here to-night and calls your bluff and summons the gentle hans or fritz or whatever that ruffianly waiter's name is to come upstairs and settle your hash! what sort of a fight are you going to put up in that narrow corridor out there with a hun next door and probably on every side of you, and no exit this end? you don't know a living soul in rotterdam and no one will be a penny the wiser if you vanish off the face of the earth ... at any rate no one on this side of the water." starting to undress, i noticed a little door on the left-hand side of the bed. i found it opened into a small _cabinet de toilette_, a narrow slip of a room with a wash-hand stand and a very dirty window covered with yellow paper. i pulled open this window with great difficulty--it cannot have been opened for years--and found it gave on to a very small and deep interior court, just an air shaft round which the house was built. at the bottom was a tiny paved court not more than five foot square, entirely isolated save on one side where there was a basement window with a flight of steps leading down from the court through an iron grating. from this window a faint yellow streak of light was visible. the air was damp and chill and horrid odours of a dirty kitchen were wafted up the shaft. so i closed the window and set about turning in. i took off my coat and waistcoat, then bethought me of the mysterious document i had received from dicky. once more i looked at those enigmatical words: _o oak-wood! o oak-wood_ (for that much was clear), _how empty are thy leaves. _like achiles_ (with one "l") _in the tent. when two people fall out the third party rejoices._ what did it all mean? had francis fallen out with some confederate who, having had his revenge by denouncing my brother, now took this extraordinary step to announce his victim's fate to the latter's friends? "like achilles in the tent!" why not "in _his_ tent"? surely ... a curious choking noise, the sound of a strangled cough, suddenly broke the profound silence of the house. my heart seemed to stop for a moment. i hardly dared raise my eyes from the paper which i was conning, leaning over the table in my shirt and trousers. the noise continued, a hideous, deep-throated gurgling. then i heard a faint foot-fall in the corridor without. i raised my eyes to the door. someone or something was scratching the panels, furiously, frantically. the door-knob was rattled loudly. the noise broke in raucously upon that horrid gurgling sound without. it snapped the spell that bound me. i moved resolutely towards the door. even as i stepped forward the gurgling resolved itself into a strangled cry. "ach! ich sterbe" were the words i heard. then the door burst open with a crash, there was a swooping rush of wind and rain through the room, the curtains flapped madly from the windows. the candle flared up wildly. then it went out. something fell heavily into the room. chapter iv destiny knocks at the door there are two things at least that modern warfare teaches you, one is to keep cool in an emergency, the other is not to be afraid of a corpse. therefore i was scarcely surprised to find myself standing there in the dark calmly reviewing the extraordinary situation in which i now found myself. that's the curious thing about shell-shock: after it a motor back-firing or a tyre bursting will reduce a man to tears, but in face of danger he will probably find himself in full possession of his wits as long as there is no sudden and violent noise connected with it. brief as the sounds without had been, i was able on reflection to identify that gasping gurgle, that rapid patter of the hands. anyone who has seen a man die quickly knows them. accordingly i surmised that somebody had come to my door at the point of death, probably to seek assistance. then i thought of the man next door, his painful breathlessness, his blueish lips, when i found him wrestling with his key, and i guessed who was my nocturnal visitor lying prone in the dark at my feet. shielding the candle with my hand i rekindled it. then i grappled with the flapping curtains and got the windows shut. then only did i raise my candle until its beams shone down upon the silent figure lying across the threshold of the room. it was the man from no. . he was quite dead. his face was livid and distorted, his eyes glassy between the half-closed lids, while his fingers, still stiffly clutching, showed paint and varnish and dust beneath the nails where he had pawed door and carpet in his death agony. one did not need to be a doctor to see that a heart attack had swiftly and suddenly struck him down. now that i knew the worst i acted with decision. i dragged the body by the shoulders into the room until it lay in the centre of the carpet. then i locked the door. the foreboding of evil that had cast its black shadow over my thoughts from the moment i crossed the threshold of this sinister hotel came over me strongly again. indeed, my position was, to say the least, scarcely enviable. here was i, a british officer with british papers of identity, about to be discovered in a german hotel, into which i had introduced myself under false pretences, at dead of night alone with the corpse of a german or austrian (for such the dead man apparently was)! it was undoubtedly a most awkward fix. i listened. everything in the hotel was silent as the grave. i turned from my gloomy forebodings to look again at the stranger. in his crisp black hair and slightly protuberant cheekbones i traced again the hint of jewish ancestry i had remarked before. now that the man's eyes--his big, thoughtful eyes that had stared at me out of the darkness of the corridor--were closed, he looked far less foreign than before: in fact he might almost have passed as an englishman. he was a young man--about my own age, i judged--(i shall be twenty-eight next birthday) and about my own height, which is five feet ten. there was something about his appearance and build that struck a chord very faintly in my memory. had i seen the fellow before? i remembered now that i had noticed something oddly familiar about him when i first saw him for that brief moment in the corridor. i looked down at him again as he lay on his back on the faded carpet. i brought the candle down closer and scanned his features. he certainly looked less foreign than he did before. he might not be a german after all: more likely a hungarian or a pole, perhaps even a dutchman. his german had been too flawless for a frenchman--for a hungarian, either, for that matter. i leant back on my knees to ease my cramped position. as i did so i caught a glimpse of the stranger's three-quarters face. why! he reminded me of francis a little! there certainly was a suggestion of my brother in the man's appearance. was it the thick black hair, the small dark moustache? was it the well-chiselled mouth? it was rather a hint of francis than a resemblance to him. the stranger was fully dressed. the jacket of his blue serge suit had fallen open and i saw a portfolio in the inner breast pocket. here, i thought, might be a clue to the dead man's identity. i fished out the portfolio, then rapidly ran my fingers over the stranger's other pockets. i left the portfolio to the last. the jacket pockets contained nothing else except a white silk handkerchief unmarked. in the right-hand top pocket of the waistcoat was a neat silver cigarette case, perfectly plain, containing half a dozen cigarettes. i took one out and looked at it. it was a melania, a cigarette i happen to know for they stock them at one of my clubs, the dionysus, and it chances to be the only place in london where you can get the brand. it looked as if my unknown friend had come from london. there was also a plain silver watch of swiss make. in the trousers pocket was some change, a little english silver and coppers, some dutch silver and paper money. in the right-hand trouser pocket was a bunch of keys. that was all. i put the different articles on the floor beside me. then i got up, put the candle on the table, drew the chair up to it and opened the portfolio. in a little pocket of the inner flap were visiting cards. some were simply engraved with the name in small letters: dr. semlin others were more detailed: dr. semlin, brooklyn, n.y. the halewright mfg. co., ltd. there were also half a dozen private cards: dr. semlin, e. rd st., new york. rivington park house. in the packet of cards was a solitary one, larger than the rest, an expensive affair on thick, highly glazed millboard, bearing in gothic characters the name: otto von steinhardt. on this card was written in pencil, above the name: "hotel sixt, vos in't tuintje," and in brackets, thus: "(mme. anna schratt.)" in another pocket of the portfolio was an american passport surmounted by a flaming eagle and sealed with a vast red seal, sending greetings to all and sundry on behalf of henry semlin, a united states citizen, travelling to europe. details in the body of the document set forth that henry semlin was born at brooklyn on st march, , that his hair was black, nose aquiline, chin firm, and that of special marks he had none. the description was good enough to show me that it was undoubtedly the body of henry semlin that lay at my feet. the passport had been issued at washington three months earlier. the only _visa_ it bore was that of the american embassy in london, dated two days previously. with it was a british permit, issued to henry semlin, manufacturer, granting him authority to leave the united kingdom for the purpose of travelling to rotterdam, further a bill for luncheon served on board the dutch royal mail steamer _koningin regentes_ on yesterday's date. in the long and anguishing weeks that followed on that anxious night in the hotel of the vos in't tuintje, i have often wondered to what malicious promptings, to what insane impulse, i owed the idea that suddenly germinated in my brain as i sat fingering the dead man's letter-case in that squalid room. the impulse sprang into my brain like a flash and like a flash i acted on it, though i can hardly believe i meant to pursue it to its logical conclusion until i stood once more outside the door of my room. the examination of the dead man's papers had shown me that he was an american business man, who had just come from london, having but recently proceeded to england from the united states. what puzzled me was why an american manufacturer, seemingly of some substance and decently dressed, should go to a german hotel on the recommendation of a german, from his name, and the style of his visiting card, a man of good family. semlin might, of course, have been, like myself, a traveller benighted in rotterdam, owing his recommendation to the hotel to a german acquaintance in the city. still, americans are cautious folk and i found it rather improbable that this american business man should adventure himself into this evil-looking house with a large sum of money on his person--he had several hundred pounds of money in dutch currency notes in a thick wad in his portfolio. i knew that the british authorities discouraged, as far as they could, neutrals travelling to and fro between england and germany in war-time. possibly semlin wanted to do business in germany on his european trip as well as in england. knowing the attitude of the british authorities, he may well have made his arrangements in holland for getting into germany lest the british police should get wind of his purpose and stop him crossing to rotterdam. but his german was so flawless, with no trace of americanism in voice or accent. and i knew what good use the german intelligence had made of neutral passports in the past. therefore i determined to go next door and have a look at dr. semlin's luggage. in the back of my mind was ever that harebrain resolve, half-formed as yet but none the less firmly rooted in my head. taking up my candle again, i stole out of the room. as i stood in the corridor and turned to lock the bedroom door behind me, the mirror at the end of the passage caught the reflection of my candle. i looked and saw myself in the glass, a white, staring face. i looked again. then i fathomed the riddle that had puzzled me in the dead face of the stranger in my room. it was not the face of francis that his features suggested. it was mine! * * * * * the next moment i found myself in no. . i could see no sign of the key of the room; semlin must have dropped it in his fall, so it behoved me to make haste for fear of any untoward interruption. i had not yet heard eleven strike on the clock. the stranger's hat and overcoat lay on a chair. the hat was from scott's: there was nothing except a pair of leather gloves in the overcoat pockets. a bag, in size something between a small kit-bag and a large handbag, stood open on the table. it contained a few toilet necessaries, a pair of pyjamas, a clean shirt, a pair of slippers, ... nothing of importance and not a scrap of paper of any kind. i went through everything again, looked in the sponge bag, opened the safety razor case, shook out the shirt, and finally took everything out of the bag and stacked the things on the table. at the bottom of the bag i made a strange discovery. the interior of the bag was fitted with that thin yellow canvas-like material with which nearly all cheap bags, like this one was, are lined. at the bottom of the bag an oblong piece of the lining had apparently been torn clean out. the leather of the bag showed through the slit. yet the lining round the edges of the gap showed no fraying, no trace of rough usage. on the contrary, the edges were pasted neatly down on the leather. i lifted the bag and examined it. as i did so i saw lying on the table beside it an oblong of yellow canvas. i picked it up and found the under side stained with paste and the brown of the leather. it was the missing piece of lining and it was stiff with something that crackled inside it. i slit the piece of canvas up one side with my penknife. it contained three long fragments of paper, a thick, expensive, highly glazed paper. top, bottom and left-hand side of each was trim and glossy: the fourth side showed a broken edge as though it had been roughly cut with a knife. the three slips of paper were the halves of three quarto sheets of writing, torn in two, lengthways, from top to bottom. at the top of each slip was part of some kind of crest in gold, what, it was not possible to determine, for the crest had been in the centre of the sheet and the cut had gone right through it. the letter was written in english but the name of the recipient as also the date was on the missing half. somewhere in the silence of the night i heard a door bang. i thrust the slips of paper in their canvas covering into my trousers pocket. i must not be found in that room. with trembling hands i started to put the things back in the bag. those slips of paper, i reflected as i worked, at least rent the veil of mystery enveloping the corpse that lay stiffening in the next room. this, at any rate, was certain: german or american or hyphenate, henry semlin, manufacturer and spy, had voyaged from america to england not for the purposes of trade but to get hold of that mutilated document now reposing in my pocket. why he had only got half the letter and what had happened to the other half was more than i could say ... it sufficed for me to know that its importance to somebody was sufficient to warrant a journey on its behalf from one side to the other of the atlantic. as i opened the bag my fingers encountered a hard substance, as of metal, embedded in the slack of the lining in the joints of the mouth. at first i thought it was a coin, then i felt some kind of clasp or fastening behind it and it seemed to be a brooch. out came my pocket knife again and there lay a small silver star, about as big as a regimental cap badge, embedded in the thin canvas. it bore an inscription. in stencilled letters i read: o g abt. vii. here was dr. semlin's real visiting-card. i held in my hand a badge of the german secret police. you cannot penetrate far behind the scenes in germany without coming across the traces of section seven of the berlin police presidency, the section that is known euphemistically as that of the political police. ostensibly it attends to the safety of the monarch, and of distinguished personages generally, and the numerous suite that used to accompany the kaiser on his visits to england invariably included two or three top-hatted representatives of the section. the ramifications of _abteilung sieben_ are, in reality, much wider. it does such work in connection with the newspapers as is even too dirty for the german foreign office to touch, comprising everything from the launching of personal attacks in obscure blackmailing sheets against inconvenient politicians to the escorting of unpleasantly truthful foreign correspondents to the frontier. it is the obedient handmaiden of the intelligence department of both war office and admiralty in germany, and renders faithful service to the espionage which is constantly maintained on officials, politicians, the clergy and the general public in that land of careful organisation. section seven is a vast subterranean department. always working in the dark, its political complexion is a handy cloak for blacker and more sinister activities. it is frequently entrusted with commissions of which it would be inexpedient for official germany to have cognizance and of which, accordingly, official germany can always safely repudiate when occasion demands. i thrust the pin of the badge into my braces and fastened it there, crammed the rest of the dead man's effects into his bag, stuck his hat upon my head and threw his overcoat on my arm, picked up his bag and crept away. in another minute i was back in my room, my brain aflame with the fire of a great enterprise. here, to my hand, lay the key of that locked land which held the secret of my lost brother. the question i had been asking myself, ever since i had first discovered the dead man's american papers of identity, was this. had i the nerve to avail myself of semlin's american passport to get into germany? the answer to that question lay in the little silver badge. i knew that no german official, whatever his standing, whatever his orders, would refuse passage to the silver star of section seven. it need only be used, too, as a last resource, for i had my papers as a neutral. could i but once set foot in germany, i was quite ready to depend on my wits to see me through. one advantage, i knew, i must forgo. that was the half-letter in its canvas case. if that document was of importance to section seven of the german police, then it was of equal, nay, of greater importance to my country. if i went, that should remain behind in safe keeping. on that i was determined. "never before, since the war began," i told myself, "can any englishman have had such an opportunity vouchsafed to him for getting easily and safely into that jealously guarded land as you have now! you have plenty of money, what with your own and this ..." and i fingered semlin's wad of notes, "and provided you can keep your head sufficiently to remember always that you are a german, once over the frontier you should be able to give the huns the slip and try and follow up the trail of poor francis. "and maybe," i argued further (so easily is one's better judgment defeated when one is young and set on a thing), "maybe in german surroundings, you may get some sense into that mysterious jingle you got from dicky allerton as the sole existing clue to the disappearance of francis." nevertheless, i wavered. the risks were awful. i had to get out of that evil hotel in the guise of dr. semlin, with, as the sole safeguard against exposure, should i fall in with the dead man's employers or friends, that slight and possibly imaginative resemblance between him and me: i had to take such measures as would prevent the fraud from being detected when the body was discovered in the hotel: above all, i had to ascertain, before i could definitely resolve to push on into germany, whether semlin was already known to the people at the hotel or whether--as i surmised to be the case--this was also his first visit to the house in the vos in't tuintje. in any case, i was quite determined in my own mind that the only way to get out of the place with semlin's document without considerable unpleasantness, if not grave danger, would be to transfer his identity and effects to myself and vice versa. when i saw the way a little clearer i could decide whether to take the supreme risk and adventure myself into the enemy's country. whatever i was going to do, there were not many hours of the night left in which to act, and i was determined to be out of that house of ill omen before day dawned. if i could get clear of the hotel and at the same time ascertain that semlin was as much a stranger there as myself, i could decide on my further course of action in the greater freedom of the streets of rotterdam. one thing was certain: the waiter had let the question of semlin's papers stand over until the morning, as he had done in my case, for semlin still had his passport in his possession. after all, if semlin was unknown at the hotel, the waiter had only seen him for the same brief moment as he had seen me. thus i reasoned and argued with myself, but in the meantime i acted. i had nothing compromising in my suit-case, so that caused no difficulty. my british passport and permit and anything bearing any relation to my personality, such as my watch and cigarette case, both of which were engraved with my initials, i transferred to the dead man's pockets. as i bent over the stiff, cold figure with its livid face and clutching fingers, i felt a difficulty which i had hitherto resolutely shirked forcing itself squarely into the forefront of my mind. what was i going to do about the body? at that moment came a low knocking. with a sudden sinking at the heart i remembered i had forgotten to lock the door. chapter v the lady of the vos in't tuintje here was destiny knocking at the door. in that instant my mind was made up. for the moment, at any rate, i had every card in my hands. i would bluff these stodgy huns: i would brazen it out: i would be semlin and go through with it to the bitter end, aye, and if it took me to the very gates of hell. the knocking was repeated. "may one come in?" said a woman's voice in german. i stepped across the corpse and opened the door a foot or so. there stood a woman with a lamp. she was a middle-aged woman with an egg-shaped face, fat and white and puffy, and pale, crafty eyes. she was in her outdoor clothes, with an enormous vulgar-looking hat and an old-fashioned sealskin cape with a high collar. the cape which was glistening with rain was half open, and displayed a vast bosom tightly compressed into a white silk blouse. in one hand she carried an oil lamp. "frau schratt," she said by way of introduction, and raised the lamp to look more closely at me. then i saw her face change. she was looking past me into the room, and i knew that the lamplight was falling full upon the ghastly thing that lay upon the floor. i realized the woman was about to scream, so i seized her by the wrist. she had disgusting hands, fat and podgy and covered with rings. "quiet!" i whispered fiercely in her ear, never relaxing my grip on her wrist. "you will be quiet and come in here, do you understand?" she sought to shrink from me, but i held her fast and drew her into the room. she stood motionless with her lamp, at the head of the corpse. she seemed to have regained her self-possession. the woman was no longer frightened. i felt instinctively that her fears had been all for herself, not for that livid horror sprawling on the floor. when she spoke her manner was almost business-like. "i was told nothing of this," she said. "who is it? what do you want me to do?" of all the sensations of that night, none has left a more unpleasant odour in my memory than the manner of that woman in the chamber of death. her voice was incredibly hard. her dull, basilisk eyes, seeking in mine the answers to her questions, gave me an eerie sensation that makes my blood run cold whenever i think of her. then suddenly her manner, arrogant, insolent, cruel, changed. she became polite. she was obsequious. of the two, the first manner became her vastly better. she looked at me with a curious air, almost with reverence, as it seemed to me. she said, in a purring voice: "ach, so! i did not understand. the gentleman must excuse me." and she purred again: "so!" it was then i noticed that her eyes were fastened upon my chest. i followed their direction. they rested on the silver badge i had stuck in my braces. i understood and held my peace. silence was my only trump until i knew how the land lay. if i left this woman alone, she would tell me all i wanted to know. in fact, she began to speak again. "i expected _you_," she said, "but not... _this_. who is it this time? a frenchman, eh?" i shook my head. "an englishman," i said curtly. her eyes opened in wonder. "ach, nein!" she cried--and you would have said her voice vibrated with pleasure--"an englishman! ei, ei!" if ever a human being licked its chops, that woman did. she wagged her head and repeated to herself: "ei, ei !" adding, as if to explain her surprise, "he is the first we have had. "you brought him here, eh! but why up here? or did der stelze send him?" she fired this string of questions at me without pausing for a reply. she continued: "i was out, but karl told me. there was another came, too: franz sent him." "this is he," i said. "i caught him prying in my room and he died." "ach!" she ejaculated ... and in her voice was all the world of admiration that a german woman feels for brute man.... "the herr englander came into your room and he died. so, so! but one must speak to franz. the man drinks too much. he is always drunk. he makes mistakes. it will not do. i will...." "i wish you to do nothing against franz," i said. "this englishman spoke german well: karl will tell you." "as the gentleman wishes," was the woman's reply in a voice so silky and so servile that i felt my gorge rise. "she looks like a slug!" i said to myself, as she stood there, fat and sleek and horrible. "here are his passport and other papers," i said, bending down and taking them from the dead man's pocket. "he was an english officer, you see?" and i unfolded the little black book stamped with the royal arms. she leant forward and i was all but stifled with the stale odour of the patchouli with which her faded body was drenched. then, making a sheaf of passport and permit, i held them in the flame of the candle. "but we always keep them!" expostulated the hotel-keeper. "this passport must die with the man," i replied firmly. "he must not be traced. i want no awkward enquiries made, you understand. therefore ..." and i flung the burning mass of papers into the grate. "good, good!" said the german and put her lamp down on the table. "there was a telephone message for you," she added, "to say that der stelze will come at eight in the morning to receive what you have brought." the deuce! this was getting awkward. who the devil was stelze? "coming at eight is he?" i said, simply for the sake of saying something. "jawohl!" replied frau schratt. "he was here already this morning. he was nervous, oh! very, and expected you to be here. already two days he is waiting here to go on." "so," i said, "he is going to take ... _it_ on with him, is he?" (i knew where he was "going on" to, well enough: he was going to see that document safe into germany.) there was a malicious ring in the woman's voice when she spoke of stelze. i thought i might profit by this. so i drew her out. "so stelze called to-day and gave you his orders, did he?" i said, "and ... and took charge of things generally, eh?" her little eyes snapped viciously. "ach!" she said, "der stelze is der stelze. he has power; he has authority; he can make and unmake men. but i ... i in my time have broken a dozen better men than he and yet he dares to tell anna schratt that ... that ..." she raised her voice hysterically, but broke off before she could finish the sentence. i saw she thought she had said too much. "he won't play that game with me," i said. strength is the quality that every german, man, woman and child, respects, and strength alone. my safety depended on my showing this ignoble creature that i received orders from no one. "you know what he is. one runs the risk, one takes trouble, one is successful. then he steps in and gathers the laurels. no, i am not going to wait for him." the hotel-keeper sprang to her feet, her faded face all ravaged by the shadow of a great fear. "you wouldn't dare!" she said. "i would," i retorted. "i've done my work and i'll report to head-quarters and to no one else!" my eyes fell upon the body. "now, what are we going to do with this?" i said. "you must help me, frau schratt. this is serious. this must not be found here." she looked up at me in surprise. "that?" she said, and she kicked the body with her foot. "oh, that will be all right with die schratt! 'it must not be found here'" (she mimicked my grave tone). "it will not be found here, young man!" and she chuckled with all the full-bodied good humour of a fat person. "you mean?" "i mean what i mean, young man, and what you mean," she replied. "when they are in a difficulty, when there are complications, when there is any unpleasantness.. like _this_ ... they remember die schratt, 'die fesche anna,' as they called me once, and it is 'gnadige frau' here and 'gnadige frau' there and a diamond bracelet or a pearl ring, if only i will do the little conjuring trick that will smooth everything over. but when all goes well, then i am 'old schratt,' 'old hag,' 'old woman,' and i must take my orders and beg nicely and ... bah!" her words ended in a gulp, which in any other woman would have been a sob. then she added in her hard harlot's voice: "you needn't worry your head about _him,_ there! leave him to me! it's my trade!" at those words, which covered god only knows what horrors of midnight disappearances, of ghoulish rites with packing-case and sack, in the dark cellars of that evil house, i felt that, could i but draw back from the enterprise to which i had so rashly committed myself, i would do so gladly. only then did i begin to realize something of the utter ruthlessness, the cold, calculating ferocity, of the most bitter and most powerful enemy which the british empire has ever had. but it was too late to withdraw now. the die was cast. destiny, knocking at my door, had found me ready to follow, and i was committed to whatever might befall me in my new personality. the german woman turned to go. "der stelze will be here at eight, then," she said. "i suppose the gentleman will take his early morning coffee before." "i shan't be here," i said. "you can tell your friend i've gone." she turned on me like a flash. she was hard as flint again. "nein!" she cried. "you stay here!" "no," i answered with equal force, "not i ..." "... orders are orders and you and i must obey!" "but who is stelze that he should give orders to me?" i cried. "who is...?" she spoke aghast. "... and you yourself," i continued, "were saying ..." "when an order has been given, what you or i think or say is of no account," the woman said. "it is an order: you and i know _whose_ order. let that suffice. you stay here! good night!" with that she was gone. she closed the door behind her; the key rattled in the lock and i realized that i was a prisoner. i heard the woman's footfalls die away down the corridor. that distant clock cleaved the silence of the night with twelve ponderous strokes. then the chimes played a pretty jingling little tune that rang out clearly in the still, rain-washed air. i stood petrified and reflected on my next move. twelve o'clock! i had eight hours' grace before stelze, the man of mystery and might, arrived to unmask me and hand me over to the tender mercies of madame and of karl. before eight o'clock arrived i must--so i summed up my position--be clear of the hotel and in the train for the german frontier--if i could get a train--else i must be out of rotterdam, by that hour. but i must _act_ and act without delay. there was no knowing when that dead man lying on the floor might procure me another visit from madame and her myrmidons. the sooner i was out of that house of death the better. the door was solid; the lock was strong. that i discovered without any trouble. in any case, i reflected, the front-door of the hotel would be barred and bolted at this hour of the night, and i could scarcely dare hope to escape by the front without detection, even if karl were not actually in the entrance hall. there must be a back entrance to the hotel, i thought, for i had seen that the windows of my room opened on to the narrow street lining the canal which ran at the back of the house. escape by the windows was impossible. the front of the house dropped sheer down and there was nothing to give one a foothold. but i remembered the window in the _cabinet de toilette_ giving on to the little air-shaft. that seemed to offer a slender chance of escape. for the second time that night i opened the casement and inhaled the fetid odours arising from the narrow court. all the windows looking, like mine, upon the air-shaft were shrouded in darkness; only a light still burned in the window beneath the grating with the iron stair to the little yard. what was at the foot of the stair i could not descry, but i thought i could recognize the outline of a door. from the window of the _cabinet de toilette_ to the yard the sides of the house, cased in stained and dirty stucco, fell sheer away. measured with the eye the drop from window to the pavement was about fifty feet. with a rope and something to break one's fall, it might, i fancied, be managed.... from that on, things moved swiftly. first with my penknife i ripped the tailor's tab with my name from the inside pocket of my coat and burnt it in the candle; nothing else i had on was marked, for i had had to buy a lot of new garments when i came out of hospital. i took semlin's overcoat, hat and bag into the _cabinet de toilette_ and stood them in readiness by the window. as a precaution against surprise i pushed the massive mahogany bedstead right across the doorway and thus barricaded the entrance to the room. from either side of the fireplace hung two bell-ropes, twisted silk cords of faded crimson with dusty tassels. mounting on the mantelpiece i cut the bell-ropes off short where they joined the wire. testing them i found them apparently solid--at any rate they must serve. i knotted them together. back to the _cabinet de toilette_ i went to find a suitable object to which to fasten my rope. there was nothing in the little room save the washstand, and that was fragile and quite unsuited for the purpose. i noticed that the window was fitted with shutters on the outside fastened back against the wall. they had not been touched for years, i should say, for the iron peg holding them back was heavy with rust and the shutters were covered with dust. i closed the left-hand shutter and found that it fastened solidly to the window-frame by means of massive iron bolts, top and bottom. here was the required support for my rope. the poker thrust though the wooden slips of the shutter held the rope quite solidly. i attached my rope to the poker with an expert knot that i had picked up at a course in tying knots during a preposterously dull week i had spent at the base in france. then i dragged from the bed the gigantic eiderdown pincushion and the two massive pillows, stripping off the pillow-slips lest their whiteness might attract attention whilst they were fulfilling the unusual mission for which i destined them. at the window of the _cabinet de toilette_ i listened a moment. all was silent as the grave. resolutely i pitched out the eiderdown into the dark and dirty air shaft. it sailed gracefully earthwards and settled with a gentle plop on the stones of the tiny yard. the pillows followed. the heavier thud they would have made was deadened by the billowy mass of the _édredon_. semlin's bag went next, and made no sound to speak of; then his overcoat and hat followed suit. i noticed, with a grateful heart, that the eiderdown and pillows covered practically the whole of the flags of the yard. i went back once more to the room and blew out the candle. then, taking a short hold on my silken rope, i clambered out over the window ledge and started to let myself down, hand over hand, into the depths. my two bell-ropes, knotted together, were about twenty feet long, so i had to reckon on a clear drop of something over thirty feet. the poker and shutter held splendidly firm, and i found little difficulty in lowering myself, though i barked my knuckles most unpleasantly on the rough stucco of the wall. as i reached the extremity of my rope i glanced downward. the red splash of the eiderdown, just visible in the light from the adjoining window, seemed to be a horrible distance below me. my spirit failed me. my determination began to ebb. i could never risk it. the rope settled the question for me. it snapped without warning--how it had supported my weight up to then i don't know--and i fell in a heap (and, as it seemed to me at the time, with a most reverberating crash) on to the soft divan i had prepared for my reception. i came down hard, very hard, but old madame's plump eiderdown and pillows certainly helped to break my fall. i dropped square on top of the eiderdown with one knee on a pillow and, though shaken and jarred, i found i had broken no bones. nor did my sense leave me. in a minute i was up on my feet again. i listened. all was still silent. i cast a glance upwards. the window from which i had descended was still dark. i could see the broken bell-ropes dangling from the shutter, and i noted, with a glow of professional pride, that my expert join between the two ropes had not given. the lower rope had parted in the middle .... i crammed semlin's hat on my head, retrieved his bag and overcoat from the corner of the court where they had fallen and the next moment was tiptoeing down the ladder. the iron stair ran down beside the window in which i had seen the light burning. the lower part of the window was screened off by a dirty muslin curtain. through the upper part i caught a glimpse of a sort of scullery with a paraffin lamp standing on a wooden table. the room was empty. from top to bottom the window was protected by heavy iron bars. at the foot of the iron stair stood, as i had anticipated, a door. it was my last chance of escape. it stood a dozen yards from the bottom of the ladder across a dank, little paved area where tins of refuse were standing--a small door with a brass handle. i ducked low as i clambered down the iron ladder so as not to be seen from the window should anyone enter the scullery as i passed. treading very softly i crept across the little area and, as quietly as i could, turned the handle of the door. it turned round easily in my hand, but nothing happened. the door was locked. chapter vi i board the berlin train and leave a lame gentleman on the platform i was caught like a rat in a trap. i could not return by the way i had come and the only egress was closed to me. the area door and window were the only means of escape from the little court. the one was locked, the other barred. i was fairly trapped. all i had to do now was to wait until my absence was discovered and the broken rope found to show them where i was. then they would come down to the area, i should be confronted with the man, stelze, and my goose would be fairly cooked. as quietly as i could i made a complete, thorough, rapid examination of the area. it was a dank, dark place, only lit where the yellow light streamed forth from the scullery. it had a couple of low bays hollowed out of the masonry under the little courtyard, the one filled with wood blocks, the other with broken packingcases, old bottles and like rubbish. i explored these until my hands came in contact with the damp bricks at the back, but in vain. door and window remained the only means of escape. four tall tin refuse tins stood in line in front of these two bays, a fifth was stowed away under the iron stair. they were all nearly full of refuse, so were useless as hiding places. in any case it accorded neither with the part i was playing nor with my sense of the ludicrous to be discovered by the hotel domestics hiding in a refuse bin. i was at my wits' end to know what to do. i had dared so much, all had gone so surprisingly well, that it was heartbreaking to be foiled with liberty almost within my grasp. a great wave of disappointment swept over me until i felt my very heart sicken. then i heard footsteps and hope revived within me. i shrunk back into the darkness of the area behind the refuse bins standing in front of the bay nearest the door. within the house footsteps were approaching the scullery. i heard a door open, then a man's voice singing. he was warbling in a fine mellow baritone that popular german ballad: "das haben die mädchen so gerne die im stübchen und die im _salong."_ the voice hung lovingly and wavered and trilled on that word _"salong"_: the effect was so much to the singer's liking that he sang the stave over again. a bumping and a rattle as of loose objects in an empty box formed the accompaniment to his song. "a cheery fellow!" i said to myself. if only i could see who it was! but i dare not move into that patch of yellow light from which the only view into the scullery was afforded. the singing stopped. again i heard a door open. was he going away? then i saw a thin shaft of light under the area door. the next moment it was flung back and the waiter, karl, appeared, still in his blue apron, a bucket in either hand. he was coming to the refuse bins. pudd'n head wilson's advice came into my mind; "when angry count up to four; when very angry, swear." i was not angry but scared, terribly scared, scared so that i could hear my heart pulsating in great thuds in my ears. nevertheless, i followed the advice of the sage of dawson's landing and counted to myself: one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four; while my heart hammered out: keep cool, keep cool, keep cool! and all the time i remained crouching behind the first two refuse bins nearest the door. the waiter hummed to himself the melody of his little ditty in a deep bourdon as he paused a moment at the door. then he advanced slowly across the area. would he stop at the refuse bins behind which i cowered? no, he passed them. the third? the fourth? no! he walked straight across the area and went to the bin beneath the stairs. i muttered a blessing inwardly on the careful habits of the german who organizes even his refuse into separate tubs. the man had his back to the door. now or never was my chance. i crawled round my friendly garbage tins, reached the area door on tip-toe and stepped softly into the house. as i did so i heard the clank of tin as karl replaced the lid of the tub. a dark passage stretched out in front of me. immediately to my right was the scullery door wide open. i must avoid the scullery at all costs. the man might remain there and i could not risk him driving me before him back to the entrance hall of the hotel. i crept down the dark passage with hands outstretched. presently they fell upon the latch of a door. i pressed it, the door opened inwards into the darkness and i passed through. as i softly closed the door behind me i heard karl's heavy step and the grinding of the key as he locked the area door. i stood in a kind of cupboard in pitch darkness, hardly daring to breathe. once more i heard the man singing his idiotic song. i did not dare look out from my hiding-place, for his voice sounded so near that i feared he might be still in the passage. so i stood and waited. * * * * * i must have stayed there for an hour in the dark. i heard the waiter coming and going in the scullery, listened to his heavy tramp, to his everlasting snatch of song, to the rattle of utensils, as he went about his work. every minute of the time i was tortured by the apprehension that he would come to the cupboard in the passage. it was cold in that damp subterranean place. the cupboard was roomy enough, so i thought i would put on the overcoat i was carrying. as i stretched out my arm, my hand struck hard against some kind of projecting hook in the wall behind me. "damn!" i swore savagely under my breath, but i put out my hand again to find out what had hurt me. my fingers encountered the cold iron of a latch. i pressed it and it gave. a door swung open and i found myself in another little area with a flight of stone steps leading to the street. * * * * * i was in a narrow lane driven between the tall sides of the houses. it was a cul-de-sac. at the open end i could see the glimmer of street lamps. it had stopped raining and the air was fresh and pleasant. carrying my bag i walked briskly down the lane and presently emerged in a quiet thoroughfare traversed by a canal--probably the street, i thought, that i had seen from the windows of my bedroom. the hotel sixt lay to the right of the lane: i struck out to the left and in a few minutes found myself in an open square behind the bourse. there i found a cab-rank with three or four cabs drawn up in line, the horses somnolent, the drivers snoring inside their vehicles. i stirred up the first and bade the driver take me to the café tarnowski. everyone who has been to holland knows the café tarnowski at rotterdam. it is an immense place with hundreds of marble-topped tables tucked away among palms under a vast glazed roof. day or night it never closes: the waiters succeed each other in shifts: day and night the great hall resounds to the cry of orders, the patter of the waiters' feet, the click of dominoes on the marble tables. delicious dutch café au lait, a beefsteak and fried potatoes, most succulent of all dutch dishes, crisp white bread, hot from the midnight baking, and appetizing dutch butter, largely compensated for the thrills of the night. then i sent for some more coffee, black this time, and a railway guide, and lighting a cigarette began to frame my plan of campaign. the train for berlin left rotterdam at seven in the morning. it was now ten minutes past two, so i had plenty of time. from that night onward, i told myself, i was a german, and from that moment i set myself assiduously to _feel_ myself a german as well as enact the part. "it's no use dressing a part," francis used to say to me; "you must _feel_ it as well. if i were going to disguise myself as a berliner, i should not be content to shave my head and wear a bowler hat with a morning coat and get my nails manicured pink. i should begin by persuading myself that i was the lord of creation, that bad manners is a sign of manly strength and that dishonesty is the highest form of diplomacy. then only should i set about getting the costume!" poor old francis! how shrewd he was and how well he knew his berliners! there is nothing like newspapers for giving one an idea of national sentiment. i had not spoken to a german, save to a few terrified german rats, prisoners of war in france, since the beginning of the war and i knew that my knowledge of german thought must be rusty. so i sent the willing waiter for all the german papers and periodicals he could lay his hands on. he returned with stacks of them, _berliner tageblatt, kélnische zeitung, vorwérts;_ the alleged comic papers, _kladderadatsch, lustige blétter_ and _simplicissimus;_ the illustrated press, _leipziger illustrirte zeitung, der weltkrieg im bild,_ and the rest: that remarkable café even took in such less popular publications as harden's _zukunft_ and semi-blackmailing rags like _der roland von berlin._ for two hours i saturated myself with german contemporary thought as expressed in the german press. i deliberately laid my mind open to conviction; i repeated to myself over and over again: "we germans are fighting a defensive war: the scoundrelly grey made the world-war: gott strafe england!" absurd as this proceeding seems to me when i look back upon it, i would not laugh at myself at the time. i must be german, i must feel german, i must think german: on that would my safety in the immediate future depend. i laid aside my reading in the end with a feeling of utter amazement. in every one of these publications, in peace-time so widely dissimilar in conviction and trend, i found the same mentality, the same outlook, the same parrot-like cries. what the _cologne gazette_ shrieked from its editorial columns, the comic (god save the mark) press echoed in foul and hideous caricature. here was organization with a vengeance, the mobilization of national thought, a series of gramophone records fed into a thousand different machines so that each might play the selfsame tune. "you needn't worry about your german mentality," i told myself, "you've got it all here! you've only got to be a parrot like the rest and you'll be as good a hun as hindenburg!" a continental waiter, they say, can get one anything one chooses to ask for at any hour of the day or night. i was about to put this theory to the test. "waiter," i said (of course, in german), "i want a bag, a handbag. do you think you could get me one?" "does the gentleman want it now?" the man replied. "this very minute," i answered. "about that size?"--indicating semlin's. "yes, or smaller if you like: i am not particular." "i will see what can be done." in ten minutes the man was back with a brown leather bag about a size smaller than semlin's. it was not new and he charged me thirty gulden (which is about fifty shillings) for it. i paid with a willing heart and tipped him generously to boot, for i wanted a bag and could not wait till the shops opened without missing the train for germany. i paid my bill and drove off to the central station through the dark streets with my two bags. the clocks were striking six as i entered under the great glass dome of the station hall. i went straight to the booking-office, and bought a first-class ticket, single, to berlin. one never knows what may happen and i had several things to do before the train went. the bookstall was just opening. i purchased a sovereign's worth of books and magazines, english, french and german, and crammed them into the bag i had procured at the café. thus laden i adjourned to the station buffet. there i set about executing a scheme i had evolved for leaving the document which semlin had brought from england in a place of safety, whence it could be recovered without difficulty, should anything happen to me. i knew no one in holland save dicky, and i could not send him the document, for i did not trust the post. for the same reason i would not post the document home to my bank in england: besides, i knew one could not register letters until eight o'clock, by which hour i hoped to be well on my way into germany. no, my bag, conveniently weighted with books and deposited at the station cloak-room, should be my safe. the comparative security of station cloak-rooms as safe deposits has long been recognized by jewel thieves and the like and this means of leaving my document behind in safety seemed to me to be better than any other i could think of. so i dived into my bag and from the piles of literature it contained picked up a book at random. it was a german brochure: _gott strafe england!_ by prof. dr. hugo bischoff, of the university of göttingen. the irony of the thing appealed to my sense of humour. "so be it!" i said. "the worthy professor's fulminations against my country shall have the honour of harbouring the document which is, apparently, of such value to _his_ country!" and i tucked the little canvas case away inside the pages of the pamphlet, stuck the pamphlet deep down among the books and shut the bag. seeing its harmless appearance the cloak-room receipt--i calculated--would, unlike semlin's document, attract no attention if, by any mischance, it fell into wrong hands _en route._ i therefore did not scruple to commit it to the post. before taking my bag of books to the cloak-room i wrote two letters. both were to ashcroft--ashcroft of the foreign office, who got me my passport and permit to come to rotterdam. herbert ashcroft and i were old friends. i addressed the envelopes to his private house in london. the postal censor, i knew, keen though he always is after letters from neutral countries, would leave old herbert's correspondence alone. the first letter was brief. "dear herbert," i wrote, "would you mind looking after the enclosed until you hear from me again? filthy weather here. yours, d.o." this letter was destined to contain the cloak-room receipt. to conceal the importance of an enclosure, it is always a good dodge to send the covering letter under separate cover. "dear herbert," i said in my second letter, "if you don't hear from me within two months of this date regarding the enclosure you will have already received, please send someone, or, preferably, go yourself and collect my luggage at the cloak-room of the rotterdam central station. i know how busy you always are. therefore you will understand my reasons for making this inordinate claim upon your time. yours, d.o." and, by way of a clue, i added, inconsequently enough: _"gott strafe england!"_ i chuckled inwardly at the thought of herbert's face on receiving this preposterous demand that he should abandon his dusty desk in downing street and betake himself across the north sea to fetch my luggage. but he'd go all right. i knew my herbert, dull and dry and conventional, but a most faithful friend. i called a porter at the entrance of the buffet and handing him semlin's bag and overcoat, bade him find me a first-class carriage in the berlin train when it arrived. i would meet him on the platform. then, at the cloak-room opposite, i gave in my bag of books, put the receipt in the first letter and posted it in the letter-box within the station. i went out into the streets with the second letter and posted it in a letter-box let into the wall of a tobacconist's shop in a quiet street a few turnings away. by this arrangement i reckoned herbert would get the letter with the receipt before the covering letter arrived. returning to the railway station i noticed a kind of slop shop which despite the early hour was already open. a fat jew in his shirt-sleeves, his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, stood at the entrance framed in hanging overcoats and bats and boots. i had no umbrella and it struck me that a waterproof of some kind might not be a bad addition to my extremely scanty wardrobe. moreover, i reflected that with the rubber shortage rain-coats must be at a premium in germany. so i followed the bowing son of shem into his dark and dirty shop and emerged presently wearing an appallingly ugly green mackintosh reeking hideously of rubber. it was a shocking garment but i reflected that i was a german and must choose my garb accordingly. outside the shop i nearly ran into a little man who was loafing in the doorway. he was a wizened, scrubby old fellow wearing a dirty peaked cap with a band of tarnished gold. i knew him at once for one of those guides, half tout, half bully, that infest the railway termini of all great continental cities. "want a guide, sir?" the man said in german. i shook my head and hurried on. the man trotted beside me. "want a good, cheap hotel, sir? good, respectable house.... want a ..." "ach! gehen sie zum teufel!" i cried angrily. but the man persisted, running along beside me and reeling off his tout's patter in a wheezing, asthmatic voice. i struck off blindly down the first turning we came to, hoping to be rid of the fellow, but in vain. finally, i stopped and held out a gulden. "take this and go away!" i said. the old fellow waved the coin aside. "danke, danke," he said nonchalantly, looking at the same time to right and left. then he said in a calm english voice, utterly different from his whining accents of a moment before: "you must be a dam' cool hand!" but he didn't bluff me, staggered though i was. i said quickly in german: "what do you want with me? i don't understand you. if you annoy me any more i shall call the police!" again he spoke in english and it was the voice of a well-bred englishman that spoke: "you're either a past master at the game or raving mad. why! the whole station is humming after you! yet you walked out of the buffet and through the whole lot of them without turning a hair. no wonder they never spotted you!" again i answered in german: "ich verstehe nicht!" but he went on in english, without seeming to notice my observation: "hang it all, man, you can't go into germany wearing a regimental tie!" my hand flew to my collar and the blood to my head. what a cursed amateur i was, after all! i had entirely forgotten that i was wearing my regimental colours. i was crimson with vexation but also with a sense of relief. i felt i might trust this man. it would be a sharp german agent who would notice a small detail like that. still i resolved to stick to german: i would trust nobody. but the guide had started his patter again. i saw two workmen approaching. when they had passed, he said, this time in english: "you're quite right to be cautious with a stranger like me, but i want to warn you. why, i've been following you round all the morning. lucky for you it was me and not one of the others...." still i was silent. the little man went on: "for the past half-hour they have been combing that station for you. how you managed to escape them i don't know except that none of them seems to have a very clear idea of your appearance. you don't look very british, i grant you; but i spotted your tie and then i recognized the british officer all right. "no, don't worry to tell me anything about yourself--it is none of my business to know, any more than you will find out anything about me. i know where you are going, for i heard you take your ticket; but you may as well understand that you have as much chance of getting into your train if you walk into the railway hall and up the stairs in the ordinary way as you have of flying across the frontier." "but they can't stop me!" i said. "this isn't germany...." "bah!" said the guide. "you will be jostled, there will be an altercation, a false charge, and you will miss your train! _they_ will attend to the rest! "damn it, man," he went on, "i know what i'm talking about. here, come with me and i'll show you. you have twenty minutes before the train goes. now start the german again!" we went down the street together for all the world like a "mug" in tow of one of those black-guard guides. as we approached the station the guide said in his whining german: "pay attention to me now. i shall leave you here. go to the suburban booking-office--the entrance is in the street to the left of the station hall. go into the first-class waiting-room and look out of the window that gives on to the station hall. there you will see some of the forces mobilized against you. there is a regular cordon of guides--like me--drawn across the entrances to the main-line platforms--unostentatiously, of course. if you look you will see plenty of plain-clothes huns, too...." "guides?" i said. he nodded cheerfully. "looks bad for me, doesn't it? but one gets better results by being one of them. oh! it's all right. in any case you've got to trust me now. "see here! when you have satisfied yourself that i'm correct in what i say, take a platform ticket and walk upstairs to platform no. . on that platform you will find a train. go to the end where the metals run out of the station, where the engine would be coupled on, and get into the last first-class carriage. on no account move from there until you see me. now then, i'll have that gulden!" i gave him the coin. the old fellow looked at it and wagged his head, so i gave him another, whereupon he took off his cap, bowed low and hurried off. in the suburban side waiting-room i peered out of the window on to the station hall. true enough, i saw one, two, four, six guides loafing about the barriers leading to the main-line platforms. there seemed to be a lot of people in the hall and certainly a number of the men possessed that singular taste in dress, those rotundities of contour, by which one may distinguish the german in a crowd. i now had no hesitation in following the guide's instructions to the letter. platform no. was completely deserted as i emerged breathless from the long staircase and i had no difficulty in getting into the last first-class carriage unobserved. i sat down by the window on the far side of the carriage. alongside it ran the brown panels and gold lettering of a german restaurant car. i looked at my watch. it was ten minutes to seven. there was no sign of my mysterious friend. i wondered vaguely, too, what had become of my porter. true, there was nothing of importance in semlin's bag, but a traveller with luggage always commands more confidence than one without. five minutes to seven! still no word from the guide. the minutes ticked away. by jove! i was going to miss the train. but i sat resolutely in my corner. i had put my trust in this man. i would trust him to the last. suddenly his face appeared in the window at my elbow. the door was flung open. "quick!" he whispered in my ear, "follow me." "my things ..." i gasped with one foot on the foot-board of the other train. at the same moment the train began to move. the guide pointed to the carriage into which i had clambered. "the porter ..." i cried from the open door, thinking he had not understood me. the guide pointed towards the carriage again, then tapped himself on the chest with a significant smile. the next moment he had disappeared and i had not even thanked him. the berlin train bumped ponderously out of the station. peering cautiously out of the carriage, i caught a glimpse of the waiter, karl, hurrying down the platform. with him was a swarthy, massively built man who leaned heavily on a stick and limped painfully as he ran. one of his feet, i could see, was misshapen and the sweat was pouring down his face. i would have liked to wave my hand to the pair, but i prudently drew back out of sight of the platform. caution, caution, caution, must henceforward be my watchword. chapter vii in which a silver star acts as a charm i have often remarked in life that there are days when some benevolent deity seems to be guiding one's every action. on such days, do what you will, you cannot go wrong. as the berlin train bumped thunderously over the culverts spanning the canals between the tall, grey houses of rotterdam and rushed out imperiously into the plain of windmills and pollards beyond, i reflected that this must be my good day, so kindly had some fairy godmother shepherded my footsteps since i had left the café. so engrossed had i been, indeed, in the great enterprise on which i was embarked, that my actions throughout the morning had been mainly automatic. yet how uniformly had they tended to protect me! i had bought my ticket in advance; i had given my overcoat and bag to a porter that i now knew to have been my saviour in disguise; i had sallied forth from the station and thus given him an opportunity for safe converse with me. the omens were good: i could trust my luck to-day, i felt, and, greatly comforted, i began to look about me. i found myself, the only occupant, in a first-class carriage. on the window was plastered a notice, in dutch and german, to the effect that the carriage was reserved. suddenly i thought of my bag and overcoat. they were nowhere to be seen. after a little search i found them beneath the seat. in the overcoat pocket was a black tie. i lost no time in taking the hint. if any of you who read this tale should one day notice a ganger on the railway between rotterdam and dordrecht wearing the famous colours of a famous regiment round his neck you will understand how they got there. then, wearied out with the fatigues of my sleepless night, i fell into a deep slumber, my verdant waterproof swathed round me, semlin's overcoat about my knees. * * * * * i was dreaming fitfully of a mad escape from hordes of wildly clutching guides, led by karl the waiter, when the screaming of brakes brought me to my senses. the train was sensibly slackening speed. outside the autumn sun was shining over pleasant brown stretches of moorland bright with heather. the next moment and before i was fully awake we had glided to a standstill at a very spick and span station and the familiar cry of "alles aussteigen!" rang in my ears. we were in germany. the realization fell upon me like a thunderclap. i was in the enemy's country, sailing under false colours, with only the most meagre information about the man whose place i had taken and no plausible tale, such as i had fully intended to have ready, to carry me through the rigorous scrutiny of the frontier police. what was my firm? the halewright manufacturing company. what did we manufacture? i had not the faintest idea. why was i coming to germany at all? again i was at a loss. the clink of iron-shod heels in the corridor and an officer, followed closely by two privates, the white cross of the landwehr in their helmets, stood at the door. "your papers, please," he said curtly but politely. i handed over my american passport. "this has not been viséd," said the officer. with a pang i realized that again i was at fault. of course, the passport should have been stamped at the german consulate at rotterdam. "i had no time," i said boldly. "i am travelling on most important business to berlin. i only reached rotterdam last night, after the consulate was closed." the lieutenant turned to one of his guards. "take the gentleman to the customs hall," he said and went on to the next carriage. the soldier appropriated my overcoat and bag and beckoned me to follow him. outside the platform was railed off. everyone, i noticed, was shepherded into a long narrow pen made with iron hurdles leading to a locked door over which was written: zoll-revision. i was going to take my place in the queue when the soldier prodded me with his elbow. he led me to a side door which opened in the gaunt, bare customs hall with its long row of trestles for the examination of the passengers' luggage. in a corner behind a desk was a large group of officers and subordinate officials, all in the grey-green uniform i knew so well from the life in the trenches. the principal seemed to be an immense man, inordinately gross and fat, with a bloated face and great gold spectacles. he was roaring in a loud, angry voice: "he's not come! there you are! again we shall have all the trouble for nothing!" i thought he looked an extraordinarily bad-tempered individual and i fervently prayed that i should not be brought before him. the doors were flung open. with a rush the hall was invaded with a heterogeneous mob of people huddled pellmell together and driven along before a line of soldiers. for an hour or more babel reigned. officials bawled at the public: the place rang with the sounds of angry altercation. after a furious dispute one man, wildly gesticulating, was dragged away by two soldiers. i never saw such a thorough examination in my life. people's bags were literally turned upside down and every single object pried into and besnuffled. after the customs' examination passengers were passed on to the searching-rooms, the men to one side, the women to the other. i caught sight of a female searcher lolling at a door ... a monstrous and grim female who reminded me of those dreadful bathing women at the seaside in our early youth. the fat official had vanished into an office leading off the customs hall. he was, i surmised, the last instance, for several passengers, including a very respectably dressed old lady, were driven into the side office and were seen no more. during all this scene of confusion no one had taken any notice of me. my guard looked straight in front of him and said never a word. when the hall was all but cleared, a man came to the office door and made a sign to my sentinel. at a table in the office which, despite the sunshine outside, was heated like a greenhouse, i found the fat official. something had evidently upset him, for his brows were clouded with anger and his mastiff-like cheeks were trembling with irritation. he thrust a hand out as i entered. "your papers!" he grunted. i handed over my passport. directly he had examined it, a red flush spread over his cheeks and forehead and he brought his hand down on the table with a crash. the sentry beside me winced perceptibly. "it's not viséd," the fat official screamed in a voice shrill with anger. "it's worthless... what good do you think is this to me?" "excuse me ..." i said in german. "i won't excuse you," he roared. "who are you? what do you want in germany? you've been to london, i see by this passport." "i had no time to get my passport stamped at the consulate at rotterdam," i said. "i arrived there too late in the evening. i could not wait. i am going to berlin on most important business." "that's nothing to do with it," the man shouted. he was working himself up into a fine frenzy. "your passport is not in order. you're not a german. you're an american. we germans know what to think of our american friends, especially those who come from london." a voice outside shouted: "nach berlin alles einsteigen." i said as politely as i could, despite my growing annoyance: "i don't wish to miss my train. my journey to berlin is of the utmost importance. i trust the train can be held back until i have satisfied you of my good faith. i have here a card from herr von steinhardt." i paused to let the name sink in. i was convinced he must be a big bug of some kind in the german service. "i don't care a rap for herr von steinhardt or herr von anybody else," the german cried. then he said curtly to a cringing secretary beside him: "has he been searched?" the secretary cast a frightened look at the sentry. "no, herr major," said the secretary. "well, take him away and strip him and bring me anything you find!" the sentry spun on his heel like an automaton. the moment had come to play my last card, i felt: i could not risk being delayed on the frontier lest stelze and his friends should catch up with me. i was surprised to find that apparently they had not telegraphed to have me stopped. "one moment, herr major," i said. "take him away!" the fat man waved me aside. "i warn you," i continued, "that i am on important business. i can convince you of that, too. only ..." and i looked round the office. "all these must go." to my amazement the fat man's anger vanished utterly. he stared hard at me, then took off his spectacles and polished them with his handkerchief. after this he said nonchalantly: "everybody get outside except this gentleman!" the sentry, who had spun round on his heel again, seemed about to speak: his voice expired before it came out of his mouth: he saluted, spun round again and followed the rest out of the room. when the place was cleared i pulled my left brace out of the armhole of my waistcoat and displayed the silver star. the fat man sprang up. "the herr doktor must excuse me: i am overwhelmed: i had no idea that the herr doktor was not one of these tiresome american spies that are overrunning our country. the herr doktor will understand.... if the herr doktor had but said ..." "herr major," i said, endeavouring to put as much insolence as i could into my voice (that is what a german understands), "i am not in the habit of bleating my business to every fool i meet. now i must go back to the train." "the berlin train has gone, herr doktor, but..." "the berlin train gone?" i said. "but my business brooks no delay. i tell you i must be in berlin to-night!" "there is no question of your taking the ordinary train, herr doktor," the fat man replied smoothly, "but unfortunately the special which i had ready for you has been countermanded. i thought you were not coming again." a special? by jove! i was evidently a personage of note. but a special would never do! where the deuce was it going to take me? "the berlin train was to have been held back until your special was clear," the major went on, "but we must stop her at wesel until you have passed. i will attend to that at once!" he gave some order down the telephone and after a brisk conversation turned to me with a beaming face: "they will stop her at wesel and the special will be ready in twenty-five minutes. but there is no hurry. you have an hour or more to spare. might i offer the herr doktor a glass of beer and a sandwich at our officers' casino here?" well, i was in for it this time. a special bearing me heaven knows whither on unknown business...! perhaps i might be able to extract a little information out of my fat friend if i went with him, so i accepted his invitation with suitable condescension. the major excused himself for an instant and returned with my overcoat and bag. "so!" he cried, "we can leave these here until we come back!" behind him through the open door i saw a group of officials peering curiously into the room. as we walked through their midst, they fell back with precipitation. there was a positive reverence about their manner which i found extremely puzzling. a waggonette, driven by an orderly, stood in the station yard, one of the customs officials, hat in hand, at the door. we drove rapidly through very spick-and-span streets to a little square where the sentry at an iron gate denoted the officers' club. in the anteroom four or five officers in field-grey uniform were lounging. as we entered they sprang to their feet and remained stiffly standing while the major presented them, hauptmann pfahl, oberleutnant meyer ... a string of names. one of the officers had lost an arm, another was very lame, the remainder were obvious dug-outs. "an american gentleman, a good friend of ours," was the form in which the major introduced me to the company. again i found myself mystified by the extraordinary demonstrations of respect with which i was received. germans don't like americans, especially since they took to selling shells to the allies, and i began to think that all these officers must know more about me and my mission than i did myself. a stolid orderly, wearing white gloves, brought beer and some extraordinary nasty-looking sardine sandwiches which, on sampling, i realized to be made of "war bread." while the beer was being poured out i glanced round the room, bare and very simply furnished. terrible chromo-lithographs of the kaiser and the crown prince hung on the walls above a glass filled with war trophies. with a horrible sickness at heart i recognized amongst other emblems a glengarry with a silver badge and a british steel helmet with a gaping hole through the crown. then i remembered i was in the region of the viith corps, which supplies some of our toughest opponents on the western front. conversation was polite and perfunctory. "it is on occasions such as these," said the lame officer, "that one recognizes how our brothers overseas are helping the german cause." "your work must be extraordinarily interesting," observed one of the dug-outs. "all your difficulties are now over," said the major, much in the manner of the chorus of a greek play. "you will be in berlin to-night, where your labours will be doubtless rewarded. american friends of germany are not popular in london, i should imagine!" i murmured: "hardly." "you must possess infinite tact to have aroused no suspicion," said the major. "that depends," i said. "pardon me," replied the major, in whom i began to recognize all the signs of an unmitigated gossip, "i know something of the importance of your mission. i speak amongst ourselves, is it not so, gentlemen? there were special orders about you from the corps command at münster. your special has been waiting for you here for four days. the gentleman who came to meet you has been in a fever of expectation. he had already left the station this morning when ... when i met you, i sent word for him to pick you up here." the plot was thickening. i most certainly was a personage of note. "what part of america do you come from, mr. semlin?" said a voice in perfect english from the corner. the one-armed officer was speaking. "from brooklyn," i said stoutly, though my heart seemed turned to ice with the shock of hearing my own tongue. "you have no accent," the other replied suavely. "some americans," i retorted sententiously, "would regard that as a compliment. not all americans talk through their noses any more than we all chew or spit in public." "i know," said the young man. "i was brought up there!" we were surrounded by smiling faces. this officer who could speak english was evidently regarded as a bit of a wag by his comrades. i seized the opportunity to give them in german a humorous description of my simplicity in explaining to a man brought up in the united states that all americans were not the caricatures depicted in the european comic press. there was a roar of laughter from the room. "ach, dieser schmalz!" guffawed the major, beating his thigh in ecstasy. "kolossal!" echoed one of the dug-outs. the lame man smiled wanly and said it was "incredible how humorous schmalz could be." i had hoped that the conversation might now be carried on again in german. nothing of the kind. the room leant back in its chairs, as if expecting the fun to go on. it did. "you get your clothes in london," the young officer said. he was a trimly built young man, very pale from recent illness, with flaxen hair and a bright, bold blue eye--the eye of a fighter. his left sleeve was empty and was fastened across his tunic, in a button-hole of which was twisted the black and white ribbon of the iron cross. "generally," i answered shortly, "when i go to england. clothes are cheaper in london." "you must have a good ear for languages," schmalz continued; "you speak german like a german and english ..." he paused appreciably, "... like an englishman." i felt horribly nervous. this young man never took his eyes off me: he had been staring at me ever since i had entered the room. his manner was perfectly calm and suave. still i kept my end up very creditably, i think. "and not a bad accomplishment, either," i said, smiling brightly, "if one has to visit london in war-time." schmalz smiled back with perfect courtesy. but he continued to stare relentlessly at me. i felt scared. "what is schmalz jabbering about now?" said one of the dug-outs. i translated for the benefit of the company. my résumé gave the dug-out who had spoken the opportunity for launching out on an interminable anecdote about an ulster he had bought on a holiday at brighton. the story lasted until the white-gloved orderly came and announced that "a gentleman" was there, asking for the herr major. "that'll be your man," exclaimed the major, starting up--i noticed he made no attempt to bring the stranger in. "come, let us go to him!" i stood up and took my leave. schmalz came to the door of the anteroom with us. "you are going to berlin?" he asked. "yes," i replied. "where shall you be staying?" he asked again. "oh, probably at the adlon!" "i myself shall be in berlin next week for my medical examination, and perhaps we may meet again. i should much like to talk more with you about america ... and london. we must have mutual acquaintances." i murmured something about being only too glad, at the same time making a mental note to get out of berlin as soon as i conveniently could. chapter viii i hear of clubfoot and meet his employer as we went down the staircase, the major whispered to me: "i don't think your man wished me to know his name, for he did not introduce himself when he arrived and he does not come to our casino. but i know him for all that: it is the young count von boden, of the uhlans of the guard: his father, the general, is one of the emperor's aides-de-camp: he was, for a time, tutor to the crown prince." a motor-car stood at the door, in it a young man in a grey-blue military great-coat and a flat cap with a pink band round it. he sprang out as we appeared. his manner was most _empressé_. he completely ignored my companion. "i am extremely glad to see you, herr doktor," he said. "you are most anxiously expected. i must present my apologies for not being at the station to welcome you, but, apparently, there was some misunderstanding. the arrangements at the station for your reception seem to have broken down completely ..." and he stared through his monocle at the old major, who flushed with vexation. "if you will step into my car," the young man added, "i will drive you to the station. we need not detain this gentleman any longer." i felt sorry for the old major, who had remained silent under the withering insolence of this young lieutenant, so i shook hands with him cordially and thanked him for his hospitality. he was a jovial old fellow after all. the young count drove himself and chatted amiably as we whirled through the streets. "i must introduce myself," he said: "lieutenant count von boden of the nd uhlans of the guard. i did not wish to say anything before that old chatterbox. i trust you have had a pleasant journey. von steinhardt, of our legation at the hague, was instructed to make all arrangements for your comfort on this side. but i was forgetting, you and he must be old acquaintances, herr doktor!" i said something appropriate about von steinhardt's invariable kindness. inwardly, i noted the explanation of the visiting card in the portfolio in my pocket. at the station we found two orderlies, one with my things, the other with von boden's luggage and fur _pélisse_. the platforms were now deserted save for sentries: all life at this dreary frontier station seemed to die with the passing of the mail train. i could not help noticing, after we had left the car and were strolling up and down the platform waiting for the special, that my companion kept casting furtive glances at my feet. i looked down at my boots: they wanted brushing, certainly, but otherwise i could see nothing wrong with them. they were brown, it is true, and i reflected that the german man about town has a way of regulating his tastes in footgear by the calendar, and that brown boots are seldom worn in germany after september st. our special came in, an engine and tender, a brakesman's van, a single carriage and a guard's van. the stationmaster bid us a most ceremonious adieu, and the guard, cap in hand, helped me into the train. it was a pullman car in which i found myself, with comfortable arm-chairs and small tables. one of the orderlies was laying the table for luncheon, and here, presently, the young count and i ate a meal, which, save for the inevitable "_kriegsbrod_," showed few signs of the stringency of the british blockade. but by this time i had fully realized that, for some unknown reason, no pains were spared to do me honour, so probably the fare was something out of the common. my companion was a bright, amusing fellow and delightfully typical of his class. he had seen a year's service with the cavalry on the eastern front, had been seriously wounded and was now attached to the general staff in berlin in what i judged to be a decorative rather than a useful capacity, for, apart from what he had learnt in his own campaigning he seemed singularly ignorant of the development of the military situation. particularly, his ignorance of conditions on the western front was supreme. he was full to the brim with the most extraordinary fables about the british. he solemnly assured me, for example--on the faith of a friend of his who had seen them--that japanese were fighting with the english in france, dressed as highlanders--his friend had heard these asiatic scotsmen talking japanese, he declared. i thought of the gaelic-speaking battalions of the camerons and could hardly suppress a smile. young von boden was superbly contemptuous of the officers of the obscure and much reduced infantry battalion doing garrison duty at goch, the frontier station we had just left, where--as he was careful to explain to me--he had spent four days of unrelieved boredom, waiting for me. "of course, in war time we are a united army and all that," he observed unsophistically, "but none of these fellows at goch was a fit companion for a dashing cavalry officer. they were a dull lot. i wouldn't go near the casino. i met some of them at the hotel one evening. that was enough for me. why, only one of them knew anything at all about berlin, and that was the lame fellow. now, there is one thing we learn in the cavalry...." but i had ceased to listen. in his irresponsible chatter the boy used a word that struck a harsh note which went jarring through my brain. he had mentioned "the lame fellow," using a german word "der stelze." in a flash i saw before me again that scene in the squalid bedroom in the vos in't tuintje--the candle guttering in the draught, the livid corpse on the floor and that sinister woman crying out: "der stelze has power, he has authority, he can make and unmake men!" the mind has unaccountable lapses. the phrase had slipped out of my german vocabulary. i had not even recognized it until the boy had rapped it out in a context with which i was familiar and then it had come back. with it, it brought that tableau in the dimly lit room, but also another--a picture of a vast and massive man, swarthy and sinister, with a clubfoot, limping heavily after karl, the waiter, on the platform at rotterdam. that, then, was why the young lieutenant had glanced down at my feet at the station at goch, the messenger he had come to meet, the bearer of the document, the man of power and authority, was clubfooted, and i was he! but seeing i was free of any physical deformity, to say nothing of the fact that i in no way resembled the clubfooted man i had seen on the platform at rotterdam, why had the young lieutenant accepted me so readily? i hazarded the reason to be that he had orders to meet a person who had not been further designated to him except that he would arrive by a certain train. the major at the station would be responsible for establishing my _bona fides_. once that officer had turned me over to the emissary, the latter's sole responsibility consisted in conducting me to the unknown goal to which the special train was rapidly bearing us. such are the marvels of discipline! my companion was, indeed, the model of discretion in everything touching myself and my business. curiosity about your neighhour's affairs is a cardinal german failing, yet the count manifested not the slightest desire to learn anything about me or my mission to berlin. you may be sure that i, for my part, did nothing to enlighten him. it was not, indeed, in my power to do so. yet the young man's reserve was so marked that i was convinced he had his orders to avoid the topic. as the train rushed through westphalia, through busy stations with glimpses of sidings full of trucks loaded to the brim, past towns whose very outlines were blurred by the mirk of smoke from a hundred factory chimneys, my thoughts were busy with that swarthy cripple. i had broken away from him with one portion of a highly prized document, yet he had made no attempt to have me arrested at the frontier. clearly, then, he must still look upon me as an ally and must therefore be yet in ignorance of the identity of the dead man lying in my chamber at the hotel sixt. the friendly guide had told me that the party "combing out" the station at rotterdam for me did not appear to know what i looked like. _was it possible, then, that clubfoot did not know semlin by sight?_ the fact that semlin had only recently crossed the atlantic seemed to confirm this supposition. then the document. semlin had half. who had the other half? surely clubfoot.... clubfoot who was to have called at the hotel that morning to receive what i had brought from england. perhaps, after all, my random declaration to the hotel-keeper had not been so far wrong; clubfoot wanted to take the whole document to berlin and reap all the laurels at the cost of half the danger and labour. that would explain his present silence. he suspected semlin of treachery, not to the common cause, but to him! it looked as if i might have a free run until clubfoot could reach berlin. that, unless he also took a special, could not be until the next evening at earliest. but, more redoubtable than a meeting with the man of power and authority, hung over me, an ever-present nightmare, the interview which i felt awaited me at the end of my present journey ... the interview at which i must render an account of my mission. evening was falling as we ran through the inhospitable region of sand and water and pine that engirdles berlin. we glided at diminished speed through the trim suburbs, skirted the city, on whose tall buildings the electric sky-signs were already beginning to twinkle, crashed heavily over a vast network of metals at some great terminus, then tore off again into the gathering darkness. in a little, we slowed down again. we were running through wooded country. from the darkness ahead a lantern waved at us and the train stopped with a jerk at a little wayside station, a tiny box of an affair. a tall, solid figure, wearing a spiked helmet and grey military great-coat, stood in solitary grandeur in the centre of the little platform, the wavering rays of a flickering gas lamp reflected in his brilliantly polished top-boots. "here we are at last!" said my companion. i stepped out to meet my fate. * * * * * the young lieutenant was rigid at the salute before the figure on the platform. i heard the end of a sentence as i alighted "... the gentleman i was to meet, excellency!" the other looked at me. he was a big man with a crimson face. he made no attempt at greeting, but said in a hoarse voice: "have the goodness to come with me. the orderlies will attend to your things." and, with clinking spurs, he strode out through some big kind of anteroom, swathed in wrappings, into a yard beyond, where a big limousine was throbbing gently. he stood aside to let me get in, then mounted himself, followed, rather to my surprise, by the young count, whose responsibility for myself had ended, i imagined, on "delivering the goods." my surprise was of short duration, for once in the car the young uhlan dropped all the formality he had displayed on the platform and addressed the elder officer as "papa." this, then, was old general von boden, of whom the major had spoken, aide-de-camp to the kaiser and formerly tutor to the crown prince. father and son chatted in a desultory fashion across the car, and i took the opportunity of studying the old gentleman. his face was of the most prodigious purple hue, and so highly polished that it continually caught the reflection of the small electric lamp in the roof. huge gold spectacles with glasses so thick that they distorted his eyes, straddled a great beak-like nose. he had doffed his helmet and was mopping his brow, and i saw a high perfectly bald dome-like head, brilliantly polished and almost as red as his face. he was clean shaven and by no means young, for the flesh hung in bags about his face. long years of the habit of command had left their mark in an imperiousness of manner which might easily yield to ruthlessness i judged. "i thought i should have had orders before i left the villa," the general said to his son, "then you could have gone straight there. i suppose he means to see him here: that is why he wanted him brought to the villa. but he's always the same: he never can make up his mind." and he grunted. "perhaps there will be something waiting at home," he added in his hoarse barrack-yard voice. we drove through a white gate into a little drive which brought us up in front of a long, low villa. neither father nor son had opened their lips to me during the drive from the station and i had not ventured to put a question to either of them, but i knew we were in potsdam. the little station in the woods was wild-park, i suspected, the private station used by the emperor on his frequent journeys and situated in the grounds of the new palace. all the officials of the prussian court have villas at potsdam, though why i had been brought there in connection with an affair that must surely rather interest the wilhelm-strasse or the police presidency was more than i could fathom. there was a frightful scene in the hall. without any warning the general turned on the orderly who had opened the door and screamed abuse at him. "camel! ox! sheep's-head!" he roared, his face and shining pate deepening their vermilion hue. "do i give orders that they shall be forgotten? what do you mean? you ass...." he put his white-gloved hands on the man's shoulders and shook him until the fellow's teeth must have rattled in his head. the orderly, white to the lips, hung limp in the old man's grasp, muttering apologies: "ach! exzellenz! exzellenz will excuse me...." it was a revolting spectacle, but it did not make the least impression on the son, who, putting down his cap and great-coat and unhooking his sword, led me into a kind of study. "these orderlies are such thickheads!" he said. "rudi! rudi!" a hoarse, strident voice screamed from the hall. the lieutenant ran out. "you've got to take the fellow to berlin to-night. the message was here all the time--that numskull heinrich forgot it. and we've got to keep the fellow here till then! an outrage, having the house used as a barrack for a rascally detective!" thus much i heard, as the door had been left open. then it closed and i heard no more. as i had heard this much, there was a certain irony in the invitation to dinner subsequently conveyed to me by the young uhlan. there was nothing for it but to accept. i knew i was caught deep in the meshes of prussian discipline, every one had his orders and blindly carried them out, from the garrulous major on the frontier to this preposterous _exzellenz_, this imperial aide-de-camp of potsdam. i was already a tiny cog in a great machine. i should have to revolve or be crushed. his excellency left me in no doubt on this point. when i was ushered into his study, after a much-needed wash and a shave, he received me standing and said point-blank: "your orders are to stay here until ten o'clock to-night, when you will be taken to berlin by lieutenant count von boden. i don't know you, i don't know your business, but i have received certain orders concerning you which i intend to carry out. for that reason you will dine with us here. after you have seen the person to whom you are to be taken to-night, lieutenant count von boden will accompany you to the railway station at spandau, where a special train will be in readiness in which he will conduct you back to the frontier. i wish you clearly to understand that the lieutenant is responsible for seeing these orders carried out and will use all means to that end. have i made myself clear?" the old man's manner was indescribably threatening. "this is the machine we are out to smash," i had said to myself when i saw him savaging his servant in the hall and i repeated the phrase to myself now. but to the general i said: "perfectly, your excellency!" "then let us go to dinner," said the general. it was a nightmare meal. a faded and shrunken female, to whom i was not introduced--some kind of relative who kept house for the general, i supposed--was the only other person present. she never opened her lips save, with eyes glazed with terror, to give some whispered instruction to the orderly anent the general's food or wine. we dined in a depressing room with dark brown wallpaper decorated with dusty stags' antlers, an enormous green-tiled stove dominating everything. the general and his son ate solidly through the courses while the lady pecked furtively at her plate. as for myself i could not eat for sheer fright. every nerve in my body was vibrating at the thought of the evening before me. if i could not avoid the interview, i was resolutely determined to give master von boden the slip rather than return to the frontier empty-handed. i had not braved all these perils to be packed off home without, at least, making an attempt to find francis. besides, i meant if i could to get the other half of that document. there was some quite excellent rhine wine, and i drank plenty of it. so did the general, with the result that, when the veins starting purple from his temples proclaimed that he had eaten to repletion, his temper seemed to have improved. he unbent sufficiently to present me with quite the worst cigar i have ever smoked. i smoked it in silence whilst father and son talked shop. the female had faded away. both men, i found to my surprise, were furious and bitter opponents of hindenburg, as i have since learnt most of the old school of the prussian army are. they spoke little of england: their thoughts seemed to be centred on russia as the arch-enemy. they pinned their faith on falkenhayn and mackensen. they had no words strong enough in their denunciation of hindenburg, whom they always referred to as "the drunkard" ... "der säufer." nor were they sparing of criticism of what they called the kaiser's "weakness" in letting him rise to power. the humming of a car outside broke up our gathering. remembering that i was but a humble servant before this great military luminary, i thanked the general with due servility for his hospitality. then the count and i went out to the car and presently drove forth into the night. we entered berlin from the west, as it seemed to me, but then struck off in a southerly direction and were soon in the commercial quarter of the city, all but deserted at that hour, save for the trams. then i caught a glimpse of lamps reflected in water, and the next moment the car had stopped on a bridge over a canal or river. my companion sprang out and hurried me to a small gate in an iron railing enclosing a vast edifice looming black in the night, while the car moved off into the darkness. the gate was open. half a dozen yards from it was a small, slender tower with a pointed roof jutting out from the corner of the building. in the tower was a door which yielded easily to my companion's vigorous push as a clock somewhere within the building beat a double stroke--half-past ten. the door led into a little vestibule brilliantly lit with electric light. there a man was waiting, a fine, upstanding bearded fellow in a kind of green hunting costume. "so, payer!" said the young uhlan. "here is the gentleman. i shall be at the west entrance afterwards. you will bring him down yourself to the car." "jawohl, herr graf!" answered the man in green, and the lieutenant vanished through the door into the night. a terrifying, an incredible suspicion that had overwhelmed me directly i stepped out of the car now came surging through my brain. that vast, black edifice, that slender tower at the corner--did i not know them? mechanically, i followed the man in green. my suspicions deepened with every step. in a little, they became certainty. up a shallow and winding stair, along a long and broad corridor, hung with rich tapestries, the polished parquet glistening faintly in the dim light, through splendid suites of gilded apartments with old pictures and splendid furniture... here a lackey with powdered hair yawning on a landing, there a sentry in field-grey immobile before a door...i was in the berlin schloss. the castle seemed to sleep. a hushed silence lay over all. everywhere lights were dim, staircases wound down into emptiness, corridors stretched away into dusky solitude. now and then an attendant in evening dress tiptoed past us or an officer vanished round a corner, noiselessly save for a faint clink of spurs. thus we traversed, as it seemed to me, miles of silence and of twilight, and all the time my blood hammered at my temples and my throat grew dry as i thought of the ordeal that stood before me. to whom was i thus bidden, secretly, in the night? we were in a broad and pleasant passage now, panelled in cheerful light brown oak with red hangings. after the desolation of the state apartments, this comfortable corridor had at least the appearance of leading to the habitation of man. a giant trooper in field-grey with a curious silver gorget suspended round his neck by a chain paced up and down the passage, his jackboots making no sound upon the soft, thick carpet with which the floor was covered. the man in green stopped at the door. holding up a warning hand to me, he bent his head and listened. there was a moment of absolute silence. not a sound was to be heard throughout the whole castle. then the man in green knocked softly and was admitted, leaving me outside. a moment later, the door swung open again. a tall, elegant man with grey hair and that indefinite air of good breeding that you find in every man who has spent a life at court, came out hurriedly. he looked pale and harassed. on seeing me, he stopped short. "dr. grundt? where is dr. grundt?" he asked and his eyes dropped to my feet. he started and raised them to my face. the trooper had drifted out of earshot. i could see him, immobile as a statue, standing at the end of the corridor. except for him and us, the passage was deserted. again the elderly man spoke and his voice betrayed his anxiety. "who are you?" he asked almost in a whisper. "what have you done with grundt? why has he not come?" boldly i took the plunge. "i am semlin," i said. "semlin," echoed the other, "--ah yes! the embassy in washington wrote about you--but grundt was to have come...." "listen," i said, "grundt could not come. we had to separate and he sent me on ahead...." "but ... but ..."--the man was stammering now in his anxiety--"... you succeeded?" i nodded. he heaved a sigh of relief. "it will be awkward, very awkward, this change in the arrangements," he said. "you will have to explain everything to him, everything. wait there an instant." he darted back into the room. once more i stood and waited in that silent place, so restful and so still that one felt oneself in a world far removed from the angry strife of nations. and i wondered if my interview--the meeting i had so much dreaded--was at an end. "pst, pst!" the elderly man stood at the open door. he led me through a room, a cosy place, smelling pleasantly of leather furniture, to a door. he opened it, revealing across a narrow threshold another door. on this he knocked. "herein!" cried a voice--a harsh, metallic voice. my companion turned the handle and, opening the door, thrust me into the room. the door closed behind me. i found myself facing the emperor. chapter ix i encounter an old acquaintance who leads me to a delightful surprise he stood in the centre of the room, facing the door, his legs, straddled apart, planted firmly on the ground, one hand behind his back, the other, withered and useless like the rest of the arm, thrust into the side pocket of his tunic. he wore a perfectly plain undress uniform of field-grey, and the unusual simplicity of his dress, coupled with the fact that he was bare-headed, rendered him so unlike his conventional portraits in the full panoply of war that i doubt if i should have recognized him--paradoxical as it may seem--but for the havoc depicted in every lineament of those once so familiar features. only one man in the world to-day could look like that. only one man in the world to-day could show, by the ravage in his face, the appalling weight of responsibility slowly crushing one of the most vigorous and resilient personalities in europe. his figure, erstwhile erect and well-knit, seemed to have shrunk, and his withered arm, unnaturally looped away into his pocket, assumed a prominence that lent something sinister to that forbidding grey and harassed face. his head was sunk forward on his breast. his face, always intensely sallow, almost italian in its olive tint, was livid. all its alertness was gone; the features seemed to have collapsed, and the flesh hung flabbily, bulging in deep pouches under the eyes and in loose folds at the corners of the mouth. his head was grizzled an iron-grey but the hair at the temples was white as driven snow. only his eyes were unchanged. they were the same grey, steely eyes, restless, shifting, unreliable, mirrors of the man's impulsive, wayward and fickle mind. he lowered at me. his brow was furrowed and his eyes flashed malice. in the brief instant in which i gazed at him i thought of a phrase a friend had used after seeing the kaiser in one of his angry moods--"his icy, black look." i was so taken aback at finding myself in the emperor's presence that i forgot my part and remained staring in stupefaction at the apparition. the other was seemingly too busy with his thoughts to notice my forgetfulness, for he spoke at once, imperiously, in the harsh staccato of a command. "what is this i hear?" he said. "why has not grundt come? what are you doing here?" by this time i had elaborated the fable i had begun to tell in the corridor without. i had it ready now: it was thin, but it must suffice. "if your majesty will allow me, i will explain," i said. the emperor was rocking himself to and fro, in nervous irritability, on his feet. his eyes were never steady for an instant: now they searched my face, now they fell to the floor, now they scanned the ceiling. "dr. grundt and i succeeded in our quest, dangerous though it was. as your majesty is aware, the ... the ... the object had been divided...." "yes, yes, i know! go on!" the other said, pausing for a moment in his rocking. "i was to have left england first with my portion. i could not get away. everyone is searched for letters and papers at tilbury. i devised a scheme and we tested it, but it failed." "how? it failed?" the other cried. "with no detriment to the success of our mission, your majesty." "explain! what was your stratagem?" "i cut a piece of the lining from a handbag and in this i wrapped a perfectly harmless letter addressed to an english shipping agent in rotterdam. i then pasted the fragment of the lining back in its place in the bottom of the bag. grundt gave the bag to one of our number as an experiment to see if it would elude the vigilance of the english police." a light of interest was growing in the emperor's manner, banishing his ill-temper. anything novel always appealed to him. "well?" he said. "the ruse was detected, the letter was found and our man was fined twenty pounds at the police court. it was then that dr. grundt decided to send me...." "you've got it with you?" the other exclaimed eagerly. "no, your majesty," i said. "i had no means of bringing it away. dr. grundt, on the other hand ..." and i doubled up my leg and touched my foot. the emperor stared at me and the furrow reappeared between his eyes. then a smile broke out on his face, a warm, attractive smile, like sunshine after rain, and he burst into a regular guffaw. i knew his majesty's weakness for jokes at the expense of the physical deformities of others, but i had scarcely dared to hope that my subtle reference to grundt's clubfoot as a hiding-place for compromising papers would have had such a success. for the kaiser fairly revelled in the idea and laughed loud and long, his sides fairly shaking. "ach, der stelze! excellent! excellent!" he cried. "plessen, come and hear how we've diddled the englander again!" we were in a long room, lofty, with a great window at the far end, where the room seemed to run to the right and left in the shape of a t. from the big writing-desk with its litter of photographs in heavy silver frames, the little bronze busts of the empress, the water-colour sea-scapes and other little touches, i judged this to be the emperor's study. at the monarch's call, a white-haired officer emerged from the further end of the room, that part which was hidden from my view. the kaiser put his hand on his shoulder. "a great joke, plessen!" he said, chuckling. then, to me: "tell it again!" i had warmed to my work now. i gave as drily humorous an account as i could of dr. grundt, fat and massive and podgy, hobbling on board the steamer at tilbury, under the noses of the british police, with the document stowed away in his boot. the kaiser punctuated my story with gusty guffaws, and emphasized the fun of the _dénouement_ by poking the general in the ribs. plessen laughed very heartily, as indeed he was expected to. then he said suavely: "but has the stratagem succeeded, your majesty?" the monarch knit his brow and looked at me. "well, young man, did it work?" "... because," plessen went on, "if so, grundt must be in holland. in that case, why is he not here?" my heart sank within me. above all things, i knew i must keep my countenance. the least sign of embarrassment and i was lost. yet i felt the blood fleeing from my face and i was glad i stood in the shadow. a knock came to the door. the elderly chamberlain who had met me outside appeared. "your majesty will excuse me ... general baron von fischer is there to report...." "presently, presently," was the answer in an irritable tone. "i am engaged just now...." the old courtier paused irresolutely for a moment. "well, what is it; what is it?" "despatches from general head-quarters, your majesty! the general asked me to say the matter was urgent!" the kaiser wakened in an instant. "bring him in!" then, to plessen, he added in a voice from which all mirth had vanished, in accents of gloom: "at this hour, plessen? if things have again gone wrong on the somme!" an officer came in quickly, rigid with a frozen face, helmet on head, portfolio under his arm. the kaiser walked the length of the room to his desk and sat down. plessen and the other followed him. i remained where i was. they seemed to have forgotten all about me. a murmur rose from the desk. the officer was delivering his report. then the kaiser seemed to question him, for i heard his hard, metallic voice: "contalmaison ... trones wood ... heavy losses ... forced back ... terrific artillery fire ..." were words that reached me. the kaiser's voice rose on a high note of irritability. suddenly he dashed the papers on the desk from him and exclaimed: "it is outrageous! i'll break him! not another man shall he have if i must go myself and teach his men their duty!" plessen hurriedly left the desk and came to me. his old face was white and his hands were shaking. "get out of here!" he said to me in a fierce undertone. "wait outside and i will see you later!" still, from the desk, resounded that harsh, strident voice, running on in an ascending scale, pouring forth a foaming torrent of menace. i had often heard of the sudden paroxysms of fury from which the kaiser was said to suffer of recent years, but never in my wildest daydreams did i ever imagine i should assist at one. gladly enough did i exchange the highly charged electrical atmosphere of the imperial study for the repose of the quiet corridor. its perfect tranquillity was as balm to my quivering nerves. of the man in green nothing was to be seen. only the trooper continued his silent vigil. again i acted on impulse. i was wearing my grass-green raincoat, my hat i carried in my hand. i might therefore easily pass for one just leaving the castle. without hesitation, i turned to the left, the way i had come, and plunged once more into the labyrinth of galleries and corridors and landings by which the man in green had led me. i very soon lost myself, so i decided to descend the next staircase i should come to. i followed this plan and went down a broad flight of stairs, at the foot of which i found a night porter, clad in a vast overcoat bedizened with eagles and seated on a stool, reading a newspaper. he stopped me and asked me my business. i told him i was coming from the emperor's private apartments, whereupon he demanded my pass. i showed him my badge which entirely satisfied him, though he muttered something about "new faces" and not having seen me before. i asked him for the way out. he said that at the end of the gallery i should come to the west entrance. i felt i had had a narrow squeak of running into my mentor outside. i told the man i wanted the other entrance ... i had my car there. "you mean the south entrance?" he asked, and proceeded to give me directions which brought me, without further difficulty, out upon the open space in front of the great equestrian statue of the emperor william i. it was a clear, starry night and i heaved a sigh of relief as i saw the schloss-platz glittering in the cold light of the arc lamps. so pressing had been the danger threatening me that the atmosphere of the castle seemed stifling in comparison with the keen night air. a new confidence filled my veins as i strode along, though the perils to which i was advancing were not a whit less than those i had just escaped. for i had burnt my boats. my disappearance from the castle must surely arouse suspicion and it was only a matter of hours for the hue and cry to be raised after me. at best it might be delayed until clubfoot presented himself at the castle. i could not remain in berlin, that was clear. my american passport was not in order, and if i were to fall back upon my silver badge, i should instantly come into contact with the police with all kinds of unwelcome consequences. no, i must get out of berlin at all costs. well away from the capital, i might possibly utilize my silver badge or by its help procure identity papers that would give me a status of some kind. but francis? baffled as i was by that obscure jingle of german, something seemed to tell me that it was a message from my brother. it was dated from berlin, and i felt that the solution of the riddle, if riddle it were, must be found here. i had reached unter den linden. i entered a café and ordered a glass of beer. the place was a blaze of light and dense with a blue cloud of tobacco smoke. a noisy band was crashing out popular tunes and there was a loud buzz of conversation rising from every table. it was all very cheerful and the noise and the bustle did me good after the strain of the night. i drew from my pocket the slip of paper i had had from dicky and fell to scanning it again. i had not been twelve hours in germany, but already i was conscious that, for anyone acting a part, let anything go wrong with his identity papers and he could never leave the country. if he were lucky, he might lie doggo; but there was no other course. supposing, then, that this had happened to francis (as, indeed, red tabs had hinted to me was the case) what course would he adopt? he would try and smuggle out a message announcing his plight. yes, i think that is what i myself would do in similar circumstances. well, i would accept this as a message from francis. now to study it once more. _o eichenholz! o eichenholz! wie leer sind deine blätter. wie achiles in dem zelte. wo zweie sich zanken erfreut sich der dritte._ the message fell into three parts, each consisting of a phrase. the first phrase might certainly be a warning that francis had failed in his mission. _"o okewood! how empty are thy leaves!"_ what, then, of the other two phrases? they were short and simple. whatever message they conveyed, it could not be a lengthy one. nor was it likely that they contained a report of francis' mission to germany, whatever it had been. indeed, it was not conceivable that my brother would send any such report to a dutchman like van urutius, a friendly enough fellow, yet a mere acquaintance and an alien at that. the message carried in those two phrases must be, i felt sure, a personal one, relating to my brother's welfare. what would he desire to say? that he was arrested, that he was going to be shot? possibly, but more probably his idea in sending out word was to explain his silence and also to obtain assistance. my eye recurred continually to the final phrase: "when _two_ people fall out, the _third_ party rejoices." might not these numerals refer to the number of a street? might not in these two phrases be hidden an address at which one might find francis, or at the worst, hear news of him? i sent for the berlin directory. i turned up the streets section and eagerly ran my eye down the columns of the "a's." i did not find what i was looking for, and that was an "achilles-strasse," either with two "l's" or with one. then i tried "eichenholz." there was an "eichenbaum-allee" in the berlin suburb called west-end, but that was all. i tried for a "blätter" or a "blatt-strasse" with an equally negative result. it was discouraging work, but i went back to the paper again. the only other word likely to serve as a street remaining in the puzzle was "zelt." "wie achiles in dem zelte." wearily i opened the directory at the "z's." there, staring me in the face, i found the street called "in den zelten." i had struck the trail at last. in den zelten, i discovered, on referring to the directory again, derived its name "in the tents," from the fact that in earlier days a number of open-air beer-gardens and booths had occupied the site which faces the northern side of the tiergarten. it was not a long street. the directory showed but fifty-six houses, several of which, i noticed, were still beer-gardens. it appeared to be a fashionable thoroughfare, for most of the occupants were titled people. no. , i was interested to see, was still noted as the berlin office of _the times_. the last phrase in the message decidedly gave the number. _two_ must refer to the number of the house: _third_ to the number of the floor, since practically all dwelling-houses in berlin are divided off into flats. as for the "achiles," i gave it up. i looked at my watch. it was twenty past eleven: too late to begin my search that night. then i suddenly realized how utterly exhausted i was. i had been two nights out of bed without sleep, for i had sat up on deck crossing over to holland, and the succession of adventures that had befallen me since i left london had driven all thought of weariness from my mind. but now came the reaction and i felt myself yearning for a hot bath and for a nice comfortable bed. to go to an hotel at that hour of night, without luggage and with an american passport not in order, would be to court disaster. it looked as though i should have to hang about the cafés and night restaurants until morning, investigate the clue of the street called in den zelten, and then get away from berlin as fast as ever i could. but my head was nodding with drowsiness. i must pull myself together. i decided i would have some black coffee, and i raised my eyes to find the waiter. they fell upon the pale face and elegant figure of the one-armed officer i had met at the casino at goch ... the young lieutenant they had called schmalz. he had just entered the café and was standing at the door, looking about him. i felt a sudden pang of uneasiness at the sight of him, for i remembered his cross-examination of me at goch. but i could not escape without paying my bill; besides, he blocked the way. he settled my doubts and fears by walking straight over to my table. "good evening, herr doktor," he said in german, with his pleasant smile. "this indeed is an unexpected pleasure! so you are seeing how we poor germans are amusing ourselves in war-time. you must admit that we do not take our pleasures sadly. you permit me?" without waiting for my reply, he sat down at my table and ordered a glass of beer. "i wish you had appeared sooner," i exclaimed in as friendly a tone as i could muster, "for i am just going. i have had a long and tiring journey and am anxious to go to an hotel." directly i had spoken i realized my blunder. "you have not got an hotel yet?" said schmalz. "why, how curious! nor have i!s as you are a stranger in berlin, you must allow me to appoint myself your guide. let us go to an hotel together, shall we?" i wanted to demur, difficult as it was to find any acceptable excuse, but his manner was so friendly, his offer seemed so sincere, that i felt my resolution wavering. he had a winning personality, this frank, handsome boy. and i was so dog-tired! he perceived my reluctance but also my indecision. "we'll go to any hotel you like," he said brightly. "but you americans are spoilt in the matter of luxurious hotels, i know. still, i tell you we have not much to learn in that line in berlin. suppose we go to the esplanade. it's a fine hotel ... the hamburg american line run it, you know. i am very well known there, quite the _hauskind_ ... my uncle was a captain of one of their liners. they will make us very comfortable: they always give me a little suite, bedroom, sitting-room and bath, very reasonably: i'll make them do the same for you." if i had been less weary--i have often thought since--i would have got up and fled from the café rather than have countenanced any such mad proposal. but i was drunk with sleep heaviness and i snatched at this chance of getting a good night's rest, for i felt that, under the aegis of this young officer, i could count on any passport difficulties at the hotel being postponed until morning. by that time, i meant to be out of the hotel and away on my investigations. so i accepted schmalz's suggestion. "by the way," i said, "i have no luggage. my bag got mislaid somehow at the station and i don't really feel up to going after it to-night." "i will fix you up," the other replied promptly, "and with pyjamas in the american fashion. by the by," he added, lowering his voice, "i thought it better to speak german. english is not heard gladly in berlin just now." "i quite understand," i said. then, to change the subject, which i did not like particularly, i added: "surely, you have been very quick in coming down from the frontier. did you come by train?" "oh, no!" he answered. "i found that the car in which you drove to the station ... it belonged to the gentleman who came to meet you, you know ... was being sent back to berlin by road, so i got the driver to give me a lift." he said this quite airily, with his usual tone of candour. but for a moment i regretted my decision to go to the esplanade with him. what if he knew more than he seemed to know? i dismissed the suspicion from my mind. "bah!" i said to myself, "you are getting jumpy. besides, it is too late to turn back now!" we had a friendly wrangle as to who should pay for the drinks, and it ended in my paying. then, after a long wait, we managed to get a cab, an antique-looking "growler" driven by an octogenarian in a coat of many capes, and drove to the esplanade. it was a regular palace of a place, with a splendid vestibule with walls and pavement of different-hued marbles, with palm trees over-shadowing a little fountain tinkling in a jade basin, with servants in gaudy liveries. the reception clerk overwhelmed me with the cordiality of his welcome to my companion and "the american gentleman," and after a certain amount of coquettish protestations about the difficulty of providing accommodation, allotted us a double suite on the entresol, consisting of two bedrooms with a common sitting-room and bathroom. in his immaculate evening dress, he was a beau brummell among hotel clerks, that man. the luggage of the american gentleman should be fetched in the morning. the gentleman's papers? there was no hurry: the herr leutnant would explain to his friend the forms that had to be filled in: they could be given to the waiter in the morning. would the gentlemen take anything before retiring? a whisky-soda--ah! whisky was getting scarce. no? nothing? he had the honour to wish the gentlemen pleasant repose. we went to the lift in procession, beau brummell in front, then a waiter, then ourselves and the gold-braided hall porter bringing up the rear. one or two people were sitting in the lounge, attended by a platoon of waiters. the whole place gave an impression of wealth and luxury altogether out of keeping with british ideas of the stringency of life in germany under the british blockade. i could not help reflecting to myself mournfully that germany did not seem to feel the pinch very much. at the lift the procession bowed itself away and we went up in charge of the liftman, a gorgeous individual who looked like one of the pope's swiss guards. we reached the centresol in an instant. the lieutenant led the way along the dimly lighted corridor. "here is the sitting-room," he said, opening a door. "this is my room, this the bathroom, and this," he flung open the fourth door, "is your room!" he stood aside to let me pass. the lights in the room were full on. in an arm-chair a big man in an overcoat was sitting. he had a heavy square face and a clubfoot. chapter x a glass of wine with clubfoot i walked boldly into the room. all sense of fear had vanished in a wave of anger that swept over me, anger with myself for letting myself be trapped, anger with my companion for his treachery. schmalz stood at my elbow with a smile full of malice on his face. "there now!" he cried, "you see, you are among friends! am i not thoughtful to have prepared this little surprise for you? see, i have brought you to the one man you have crossed so many hundreds of miles of ocean to see! herr doktor! this is dr. semlin. dr. semlin: dr. grundt." the other had by now heaved his unwieldy frame from the chair. "dr. semlin?" he said, in a perfectly emotionless voice, _une voix blanche_, as the french say, "this is an unexpected pleasure. i never thought we should meet in berlin. i had believed our rendezvous to have been fixed for rotterdam. still, better late than never!" and he extended to me a white, fat hand. "our friend, the herr leutnant," i answered carelessly, "omitted to inform me that he was acquainted with you, as, indeed, he failed to warn me that i should have the pleasure of seeing you here to-night." "we owe that pleasure," clubfoot replied with a smile that displayed a glitter of gold in his teeth, "to a purely fortuitous encounter at the casino at goch, as, indeed, it would appear, i am similarly indebted to chance for the unlooked-for boon of making your personal acquaintance here this evening." he bowed to schmalz as he said this. "but come," he went on, "if i may make bold to offer you the hospitality of your own room, sit down and try a glass of this excellent brauneberger. rhine wine must be scarce where you come from. we have much to tell one another, you and i." again he bared his golden teeth in a smile. "by all means," i said. "but i fear we keep our young friend from his bed. doubtless, you have no secrets from him, but you will agree, herr doktor, that our conversation should best be tête-à-tète." "schmalz, dear friend," clubfoot exclaimed with a sigh of regret, "much as i should like ... i am indeed truly sorry that we should be deprived of your company, but i cannot contest the profound accuracy of our friend's remark. if you could go to the sitting-room for a few minutes...." the young lieutenant flushed angrily. "if you prefer my room to my company ... by all means," he retorted gruffly, "but i think, in the circumstances, that i shall go to bed." and he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, shutting the door with rather more force than was necessary, i thought. clubfoot sighed. "ach! youth! youth!" he cried, "the same impetuous youth that is at this very moment hacking out for germany a world empire amidst the nations in arms. a wonderful race, a race of giants, our german youth, herr doktor ... the mainspring of our great german machine--as they find who resist it. a glass of wine!" the man's speech and manner boded ill for me, i felt. i would have infinitely preferred violent language and open threats to the subtle menace that lay concealed beneath all this suavity. "you smoke?" queried clubfoot. "no!"--he held up his hand to stop me as i was reaching for my cigarette case, "you shall have a cigar--not one of our poor german hamburgers, but a fine havana cigar given me by a member of the english privy council. you stare! aha! i repeat, by a member of the english privy council, to me, the boche, the barbarian, the hun! no hole and corner work for the old doctor. _der stelze_ may be lame, clubfoot may be past his work, but when he travels _en mission_, he travels _en prince_, the man of wealth and substance. there is none too high to do him honour, to listen to his views on poor, misguided germany, the land of thinkers sold into bondage to the militarists! bah! the fools!" he snarled venomously. this man was beginning to interest me. his rapid change of moods was fascinating, now the kindly philosopher, now the teuton braggart, now the hun incorporate. as he limped across the room to fetch his cigar case from the mantelpiece, i studied him. he was a vast man, not so much by reason of his height, which was below the medium, but his bulk, which was enormous. the span of his shoulders was immense, and, though a heavy paunch and a white flabbiness of face spoke of a gross, sedentary life, he was obviously a man of quite unusual strength. his arms particularly were out of all proportion to his stature, being so long that his hands hung down on either side of him when he stood erect, like the paws of some giant ape. altogether, there was something decidedly simian about his appearance his squat nose with hairy, open nostrils, and the general hirsuteness of the man, his bushy eyebrows, the tufts of black hair on his cheekbones and on the backs of his big, spade like hands. and there was that in his eyes, dark and courageous beneath the shaggy brows, that hinted at accesses of ape-like fury, uncontrollable and ferocious. he gave me his cigar which, as he had said, was a good one, and, after a preliminary sip of his wine, began to speak. "i am a plain man, herr doktor," he said, "and i like plain speaking. that is why i am going to speak quite plainly to you. when it became apparent to that person whom it is not necessary to name further greatly desired a certain letter to be recovered, i naturally expected that i, who am a past member in affairs of this order, notably, on behalf of the person concerned, would have been entrusted with the mission. it was i who discovered the author of the theft in an english internment camp; it was i who prevailed upon him to acquiesce in our terms; it was i who finally located the hiding place of the document ... all this, mark you, without setting foot in england." my thoughts flew back again to the three slips of paper in their canvas cover, the divided crest, the big, sprawling, upright handwriting. i should have known that hand. i had seen it often enough on certain photographs which were accorded the place of honour in the drawing room at consistorial-rat von mayburg's at bonn. "i therefore had the prior claim," clubfoot continued, "to be entrusted with the important task of fetching the document and of handing it back to the writer. but the gentleman was in a hurry; the gentleman always is; he could not wait for that old slowcoach of a clubfoot to mature his plans for getting into england, securing the document, and getting out again. "so bernstorff is called into consultation, the head of an embassy that has made the german secret service the laughing-stock of the world, an ambassador that has his private papers filched by a common sneak-thief in the underground railway and is fool enough to send home the most valuable documents by a jackass of a military attaché who lets the whole lot be taken from him by a dunderheaded british customs officer at falmouth! _this_ was the man who was to replace _me!_ "bernstorff is accordingly bidden to despatch one of his trusty servants to england, with all suitable precautions, to do _my_ work. you are chosen, and i will pay you the compliment of saying that you fulfilled your mission in a manner that is singularly out of keeping with the usual method of procedure of that gentleman's emissaries. "but, my dear doktor ... pray fill your glass. that cigar is good, is it not? i thought you would appreciate a good cigar.... as i was saying, you were handicapped from the first. when you reach the place indicated to you in your instructions, you find only half the document. the wily thief has sliced it in two so as to make sure of his money before parting with the goods. they didn't know, of course, that clubfoot, the old slowcoach, who is past his work, was aware of this already, and had made his plans accordingly. but, in the end, they had to send for me. 'the good clubfoot,' 'old chap,' 'sly old fox,' and all the rest of it--would run across to england and secure the other half, while count bernstorff's smart young man from america would wait in rotterdam until herr dr. grundt arrived and handed him the other portion. "but count bernstorff's young man does nothing of the kind. he is one too many for the old fox. he does not wait for him. he runs away, after displaying unusual determination in dealing with a prying englander--whose fate should be a lesson to all who interfere in other people's business--and goes to germany, leaving poor old clubfoot in the lurch. you must admit, herr doktor, that i have been hardly used--by yourself as well as by another person?" my throat was dry with anxiety. what did the man mean by his veiled allusions to "all who interfere in other people's business?" i cleared my throat to speak. clubfoot raised a great hand in deprecation. "no explanation, herr doktor, i beg" (his tone was perfectly unconcerned and friendly), "let me have my say. when i found out that you had left rotterdam--by the way, you must let me congratulate you on the remarkable fertility of resource you displayed in quitting frau schratt's hospitable house--when i found you were gone, i sat down and thought things out. "i reflected that an astute american like yourself (believe me, you are very astute) would probably be accustomed to look at everything from the business standpoint. 'i will also consider the matter from the business standpoint,' i said to myself, and i decided that, in your place, i too would not be content to accept, as sole payment for the danger of my mission, the scarcely generous compensation that count bernstorff allots to his collaborators. no, i should wish to secure a little renown for myself, or, were that not possible, then some monetary gain proportionate with the risks i had run. you see, i have been at pains to put myself wholly in your place. i hope i have not said anything tactless. if so, i can at least acquit myself of any desire to offend." "on the contrary, herr doktor," i replied, "you are the model of tact and diplomacy." his eyes narrowed a little at this. i thought he wouldn't like that word "diplomacy." "another glass of wine? you may safely venture; there is not a headache in a bottle of it. well, herr doktor, since you have followed me so patiently thus far, i will go further. i told you, when i first saw you this evening, that i was delighted at our meeting. that was no mere banality, but the sober truth. for, you see, i am the very person with whom, in the circumstances, you would wish to get in touch. deprived of the honour, rightly belonging to me, of undertaking this mission single-handed and of fulfilling it alone, i find that you can enable me to carry out the mission to a successful conclusion, whilst i, for my part, am able and willing to recompense your services as they deserve and not according to bernstorff's starvation scale. "to make a long story short, herr doktor ... how much?" he brought his remarks to this abrupt anticlimax so suddenly that i was taken aback. the man was watching me intently for all his apparent nonchalance, and i felt more than ever the necessity for being on my guard. if i could only fathom how much he knew. of two things i felt fairly sure: the fellow believed me to be semlin and was under the impression that i still retained my portion of the document. i should have to gain time. the bargain he proposed over my half of the letter might give me an opportunity of doing that. moreover, i must find out whether he really had the other half of the document, and in that case, where he kept it. he broke the silence. "well, herr doktor," he said, "do you want me to start the bidding? you needn't be afraid. i am generous." i leant forward earnestly in my chair. "you have spoken with admirable frankness, herr doktor," i said, "and i will be equally plain, but i will be brief. in the first place, i wish to know that you are the man you profess to be: so far, you must remember, i have only the assurance of our excitable young friend." "your caution is most praiseworthy," said the other, "but i should imagine i carry my name written on my boot." and he lifted his hideous and deformed foot. "that is scarcely sufficient guarantee," i answered, "in a matter of this importance. a detail like that could easily be counterfeited, or otherwise provided for." "my badge," and the man produced from his waistcoat pocket a silver star identical with the one i carried on my braces, but bearing only the letter "g" above the inscription "abt. vii." "that, even," i retorted, "is not conclusive." clubfoot's mind was extraordinarily alert, however gross and heavy his body might be. he paused for a moment in reflection, his hands crossed upon his great paunch. "why not?" he said suddenly, reached out for his cigar-case, beside him on the table, and produced three slips of paper highly glazed and covered with that unforgettable, sprawling hand, a portion of a gilded crest at the top--in short, the missing half of the document i had found in semlin's bag. clubfoot held them out fanwise for me to see, but well out of my reach, and he kept a great, spatulate thumb over the top of the first sheet where the name of the addressee should have been. "i trust you are now convinced, herr doktor," he said, with a smile that bared his teeth, and, putting the pieces together, he folded them across, tucked them away in the cigar-case again, and thrust it into his pocket. i must test the ground further. "has it occurred to you, herr doktor," i asked, "that we have very little time at our disposal? the person whom we serve must be anxiously waiting...." clubfoot laughed and shook his head. "i want that half-letter badly," he said, "but there's no violent hurry. so i fear you must leave that argument out of your presentation of the case, for it has no commercial value. the person you speak of is not in berlin." i had heard something of the kaiser's sudden appearances and disappearances during the war, but i had not thought they could be so well managed as to be kept from the knowledge of one of his own trusted servants, for such i judged clubfoot to be. evidently, he knew nothing of my visit to the castle that evening, and i was for a moment unpatriotic enough to wish i had kept my half of the letter that i might give it to clubfoot now to save the coming exposure. "a thousand dollars!" clubfoot said. i remained silent. "two? three? four thousand? man, you are greedy. well, i will make it five thousand--twenty thousand marks...." "herr doktor," i said, "i don't want your money. i want to be fair with you. when the ... the person we know of sends for you, we will go together. you shall tell the large part you have played in this affair. i only want credit for what i have done, nothing more...." a knock came at the door. the porter entered. "a telegram for the herr doktor," he said, presenting a salver. somewhere near by a band was playing dance music ... one of those rousing, splendidly accented viennese waltzes. there seemed to be a ball on, for through the open door of the room, i heard, mingled with the strains of the music, the sound of feet and the hum of voices. then the door closed, shutting out the outer world again. "you permit me," said grundt curtly, as he broke the seal of the telegram. so as not to seem to observe him, i got up and walked across to the window, and leaned against the warm radiator. "well?" said a voice from the arm-chair. "well?" i echoed. "i have made you my proposal, herr doktor: you have made yours. yours is quite unacceptable. i have told you with great frankness why it is necessary that i should have your portion of the document and the sum i am prepared to pay for it. i set its value at five thousand dollars. i will pay you the money over in cash, here and now, in good german bank-notes, in exchange for those slips of paper." the man's suavity had all but vanished: his voice was harsh and stern. his eyes glittered under his shaggy brows as he looked at me. had i been less agitated, i should have noted this, as a portent of the coming storm, also his great ape's hands picking nervously at the telegram in his lap. "i have already told you," i said firmly, "that i don't want your money. you know my terms!" he rose up from his seat and his figure seemed to tower. "terms?" he cried in a voice that quivered with suppressed passion, "terms? understand that i give orders. i accept terms from no man. we waste time here talking. come, take the money and give me the paper." i shook my head. my brain was clear, but i felt the crisis was coming. i took a good grip with my hands of the marble slab covering the radiator behind me to give me confidence. the slab yielded: mechanically i noted that it was loose. the man in front of me was shaking with rage. "listen!" he said. "i'll give you one more chance. but mark my words well. do you know what happened to the man that stole that document? the english took him out and shot him on account of what was found in his house when they raided it. do you know what happened to the interpreter at the internment camp, who was our go-between, who played us false by cutting the document in half? the english shot _him_ too, on account of what was found in letters that came to him openly through the post? and who settled schulte? and who settled the other man? who contrived the traps that sent them to their doom? it was _i_, grundt, _i_, the cripple, _i_, the clubfoot, that had these traitors despatched as an example to the six thousand of us who serve our emperor and empire in darkness! you dog, i'll smash you!" he was gibbering like an angry ape: his frame was shaking with fury: every hair in the tangle on his face and hands seemed to bristle with his berserker frenzy. but he kept away from me, and i saw that he was still fighting to preserve his self-control. i maintained a bold front. "this may do for your own people," i said contemptuously, "but it doesn't impress me, i'm an american citizen!" he was calmer now, but his eyes glittered dangerously. "an american citizen?" he said in an icy tone. then he fairly hissed at me: "you fool! blind, besotted fool! do you think you can trifle with the might of the german empire? ah! i've played a pretty game with you, you dirty english dog! i've watched you squirming and writhing whilst the stupid german told you his pretty little tale and plied you with his wine and his cigars. you're in our power now, you miserable english hound! do you understand that? now call on your fleet to come and save you! "listen! i'll be frank with you to the last. i've had my suspicions of you from the first, when they telephoned me that you had escaped from the hotel, but i wanted to make _sure_. ever since you have been in this room it has been in my power to push that bell there and send you to spandau, where they rid us of such dirty dogs as you. "but the game amused me. i liked to see the herr englander playing the spy against _me_, the master of them all. do you know, you fool, that old schratt knows english, that she spent years of her harlot's life in london, and that when you allowed her a glimpse of that passport, your own passport, the one you so cleverly burned, she remembered the name? ah! you didn't know that, did you? "shall i tell you what was in that telegram they just brought me? it was from schratt, our faithful schratt, who shall have a bangle for this night's work, to say that the corpse at the hotel has a chain round its neck with an identity disc in the name of semlin. ha! you didn't know that either, did you? "and _you_ would bargain and chaffer with me! _you_ would dictate your terms, you scum! _you_ with your head in a noose, a spy that has failed in his mission, a miserable wretch that i can send to his death with a flip of my little finger! you impudent hound! well, you'll get your deserts this time, captain desmond okewood ... but i'll have that paper first!" roaring "give it to me!" he rushed at me like some frenzied beast of the jungle. the veins stood out at his temples, his hairy nostrils opened and closed as his breath came faster, his long arms shot out and his great paws clutched at my throat. but i was waiting for him. as he came at me, i heard his clubfoot stump once on the polished floor, then, from the radiator behind me, i raised high in my arms the heavy marble slab, and with every ounce of strength in my body brought it crashing down on his head. he fell like a log, the blood oozing sluggishly from his head on to the parquet. i stopped an instant, snatched the cigar-case from the pocket where he had placed it, extracted the document and fled from the room. chapter xi miss mary prendergast risks her reputation the rooms of our suite were intercommunicating so that you could pass from one to the other without going into the corridor at all. schmalz had retired this way, going from my room through the bathroom to his own room. in the excitement of the moment i forgot all about this, else i should not have omitted such an elementary precaution as slipping the bolt of the door communicating between my room and the bathroom. as i stepped out into the corridor, with the crash of that heavy body still ringing in my ears, i thought i caught the sound of a light step in the bathroom; the next moment i heard a door open and then a loud exclamation of horror in the room i had just left. the corridor was dim and deserted. the place seemed uninhabited. no boots stood outside the rooms, and open doors, one after the other, were sufficient indication that the apartments they led to were untenanted. i didn't pause to reason or to plan. on hearing that long drawn out cry of horror, i dashed blindly down the corridor at top speed, followed it round to the right and then, catching sight of a small staircase, rushed up it three steps at a time. as i reached the top i heard a loud cry somewhere on the floor below. then a door banged, there was the sound of running feet and ... silence. i found myself on the next floor in a corridor similar to the one i had just left. like it, it was desolate and dimly lit. like it, it showed room after room silent and empty. agitated as i was, the contrast with the bright and busy vestibule and the throng of uniformed servants below was so marked that it struck me with convincing force. even the hotels, it seemed, were part and parcel of the great german publicity bluff which i had noted in my reading of the german papers at rotterdam. i had no plan in my head, only a wild desire to put as much distance as possible between me and that ape-man in the room below. so, after pausing a moment to listen and draw breath, i started off again. suddenly a door down the corridor, not ten paces away from me, opened and a woman came out. i stopped dead in my headlong course, but it was too late and i found myself confronting her. she was young and very beautiful with masses of thick brown hair clustering round a very white forehead. she was in evening dress, all in white, with an ermine wrap. even as i looked at her i knew her and she knew me. "monica," i whispered. "why! desmond!" she said. a regular hubbub echoed from below. voices were crying out, doors were banging, there was the sound of feet. the girl was speaking, saying in her low and pleasant voice phrases that were vague to me about her surprise, her delight at seeing me. but i did not listen to her. i was straining my ears towards that volume of chaotic noises which came swelling up from below. "monica!" i interrupted swiftly, "have you any place to hide me? this place is dangerous for me.... i must get away. if you can't save me, don't stay here but get away yourself as fast as you can. they're after me and if they catch you with me it will be bad for you!" without a word the girl turned round to the room she had just left. she beckoned to me, then knocked and went in. i followed her. it was a big, pleasant bedroom, elegantly furnished with a soft carpet and silk hangings, and i know not what, with shaded lights and flowers in profusion. sitting up in bed was a stout, placid-looking woman in a pink silk kimono with her hair coquettishly braided in two short pigtails which hung down on either side of her face. monica closed the door softly behind her. "why, monica!" she exclaimed in horror--and her speech was that of the united states--"what on earth ...?" "not a word, mary, but let me explain...." "but for land's sake, monica...." "mary, i want you to help...." "but say, child, a man ... in my bedroom ... at this time o' night...." "oh, shucks, mary! let me talk." the distress of the woman in bed was so comic that i could scarcely help laughing. she had dragged the bed-clothes up till only her eyes could be seen. her pigtails bobbed about in her emotion. "now, mary dear, listen here. you're a friend of mine. this is desmond okewood, another, a very old and dear friend of mine too. well, you know, mary, this isn't a healthy country these times for an english officer. that's what desmond here is. i didn't know he was in germany. i don't know a thing about him except what he's told me and that's that he's in danger and wants me to help him. i met him outside and brought him right in here, as i know you would want me to, wouldn't you, dear?" the lady poked her nose over the top of the bed-clothes. "present the gentleman properly, monica!" she said severely. "captain okewood ... miss mary prendergast," said monica. the lady's head, pigtails and all, now appeared. she appeared to be somewhat mollified. "i can't say i approve of your way of doing things, monica," she observed, but less severely than before, "and i can't think what an english officer wants in my bedroom at ten minutes of two in the morning, but if those deutschers want to find him, perhaps i can understand!" here she smiled affectionately on the beautiful girl at my side. "ah! mary, you're a dear," replied monica. "i knew you'd help us. why, a british officer in germany ... isn't it too thrilling?" she turned to me. "but, des," she said, "what do you want me to do?" i knew i could trust monica and i resolved i would trust her friend too... she looked a white woman all right. and if she was a friend of monica's, her heart would be in the right place. francis and i had known monica all our lives almost. her father had lived for years ... indeed to the day of his death ... in london as the principal european representative of a big american financial house. they had lived next door to us in london and francis and i had known monica from the days when she was a pretty kid in short skirts until she had made her debut and the american ambassadress had presented her at buckingham palace. at various stages of our lives, both francis and i had been in love with her, i believe, but my life in the army had kept me much abroad, so francis had seen most of her and had been the hardest hit. then the father died and monica went travelling abroad in great state, as befits a young heiress, with a prodigiously respectable american chaperon and a retinue of retainers. i never knew the rights of the case between her and francis, but at one of the german embassies abroad--i think in vienna--she met the young count rachwitz, head of one of the great silesian noble houses, and married him. it was not on the usual rock--money--that this german-american marriage was wrecked, for the count was very wealthy himself. i had supposed that the german man's habitual attitude of mind towards women had not suited the girl's independent spirit on hearing that monica, a few years after her marriage, had left her husband and gone to live in america. i had not seen her since she left london, and, though we wrote to one another at intervals, i had not heard from her since the war started and had no idea that she had returned to germany. monica rachwitz was, in fact, the last person i should ever have expected to meet in berlin in war-time. so, as briefly as i could and listening intently throughout for any sounds from the corridor, i gave the two women the story of the disappearance of francis and my journey into germany to look for him. at the mention of my brother's name, i noticed that the girl stiffened and her face grew rigid, but when i told her of my fears for his safety her blue eyes seemed to me to grow dim. i described to them my adventure in the hotel at rotterdam, my reception in the house of general von boden, and my interview at the castle, ending with the experiences of that night, the trap laid for me at the hotel and my encounter with clubfoot in the room below. two things only i kept back: the message from francis and the document. i decided within myself that the fewer people in those secrets the safer they would be. i am afraid, therefore, that my account of my interview with the emperor was a trifle garbled, for i made out that i did not know why i was bidden to the presence and that our conversation was interrupted before i could discover the reason. the two women listened with grave faces. only once did monica interrupt me. it was when i mentioned general von boden. "i know the beast," she said. "but, oh, des!" she exclaimed, "you seem to have fallen right among the top set in this country. they're a bad lot to cross. i fear you are in terrible danger." "i believe you, monica," i answered, dolefully enough. "and that's just where i feel such a beast for throwing myself upon your mercy in this way. but i was pretty desperate when i met you just now and i didn't know where to turn. still, i want you to understand that if you can only get me out of this place i shall not trouble you further. i came to this country on my own responsibility and i'm going through with it alone. i have no intention of implicating anybody else along with me. but i confess i don't believe it is possible to get away from this hotel. they're watching every door by now. besides..." i stopped abruptly. a noise outside caught my listening ear. footsteps were approaching along the corridor. i heard doors open and shut. they were hunting for me, floor by floor, room by room. "open that wardrobe," said a voice from the bed: a firm, business-like voice that was good to hear. "open it and get right in, young man; but don't go mussing up my good dresses whatever you do! and you, monica, quick! switch off those lights all but this one by the bed. good! now go to the door and ask them what they mean by making this noise at this time of night with me ill and all!" i got into the wardrobe and monica shut me in. i heard the bedroom door open, then voices. i waited patiently for five minutes, then the wardrobe door opened again. "come out, des," said monica, "and thank mary prendergast for her cleverness." "what did they say?" i asked. "that reception clerk was along. he was most apologetic--they know me here, you see. he told me how a fellow had made a desperate attack upon a gentleman on the floor below and had got away. they thought he must be hiding somewhere in the hotel. i told him i'd been sitting here for an hour chatting with miss prendergast and that we hadn't heard a sound. they went away then!" "you won't catch any deutschers fooling mary prendergast," said the jovial lady in the bed; "but, children, what next?" monica spoke--quite calmly. she was always perfectly self-possessed. "my brother is stopping with me in our apartment in the bendler-strasse," she said. "you remember gerry, des--he got all smashed up flying, you know, and is practically a cripple. he's been so much better here that i've been trying to get an attendant to look after him, to dress him and so on, but we couldn't find anybody; men are so scarce nowadays! you could come home with me, des, and take this man's place for a day or two ... i'm afraid it couldn't be longer, for one would have to register you with the police--every one has to be registered, you know--and i suppose you have no papers that are any good--now." "you are too kind, monica," i answered, "but you risk too much and i can't accept." "it's no risk for a day or two," she said. "i am a person of consequence in official germany, you know, with my husband a.d.c. to marshal von mackensen: and i can always say i forgot to send in your papers. if they come down upon me afterwards i should say i meant to register you but had to discharge you suddenly ... for drink!" "but how can i get away from here?" i objected. "i guess we can fix that too," she replied. "my car is coming for me at two--it must be that now--i have been at a dance downstairs--one of the radolin girls is getting married to-morrow--it was so deadly dull i ran up here and woke up mary prendergast to talk. you shall be my chauffeur! i know you drive a car! you ought to be able to manage mine ... it's a mercédès." "i can drive any old car," i said, "but i'm blessed ..." "wait there!" cried this remarkable girl, and ran out of the room. for twenty minutes i stood and made small talk with miss prendergast. they were the longest twenty minutes i have ever spent. i was dead tired in any case, but my desperate position kept my thoughts so busy that, for all my endeavours to be polite, i fear my conversation was extremely distraught. "you poor boy!" suddenly said miss mary prendergast, totally ignoring a profound remark i was making regarding mr. wilson's policy, "don't you go on talking to me! sit down on that chair and go to sleep! you look just beat!" i sat down and nodded in the arm-chair. suddenly i was awake. monica stood before me. she drew from under her cape a livery cap and uniform. "put these things on," she said, "and listen carefully. when you leave here, turn to the right and take the little staircase you will find on the right. go down to the bottom, go through the glass doors, and across the room you will find there, to a door in a corner which leads to the ballroom entrance of the hotel. i will give you my ermine wrap to carry. i shall be waiting there. you will help me on with my cloak and escort me to the car. is that clear?" "perfectly." "now, pay attention once more, for i shall not be able to speak to you again. i shall have to give you your directions for finding the way to the bendler-strasse." she did so and added: "drive carefully, whatever you do. if we had a smash and the police intervened, it might be most awkward for you." "but your chauffeur," i said, "what will he do?" "oh, carter," she answered carelessly, "he's tickled to death ... he's american, you see ... he drove me out into the tiergarten just now and took off his livery, then drove me back here, hopped off and went home." "but can you trust him?" i asked anxiously. "like myself," she said. "besides, carter's been to belgium ... he drove count rachwitz, my husband, while he was on duty there. and carter hasn't forgotten what he saw in belgium!" she gave me the key of the garage and further instructions how to put the car up. carter would give me a bed at the garage and would bring me round to the house early in the morning as if i were applying for the job of male attendant for gerry. "i will go down first," monica said, "so as not to keep you waiting. my, but they're rattled downstairs--all the crowd at olga von radolin's dance have got hold of the story and the place is full of policemen. but there'll be no danger if you walk straight up to me in the hall and keep your face turned away from the crowd as much as possible." she kissed miss prendergast and slipped away. what a splendid pair of women they were: so admirably cool and resourceful: they seemed to have thought of everything. "good night, miss prendergast," i said. "you have done me a good turn. i shall never forget it!" and as the only means at my disposal for showing my gratitude, i kissed her hand. she coloured up like a girl. "it's a long time since any one did that to a silly old woman like me," she said musingly. "was it you or your brother," she asked abruptly, "who nearly broke my poor girl's heart?" "i shouldn't like to say," i answered; "but i don't think, speaking personally, that monica ever cared enough about me for me to plead guilty." she sniffed contemptuously. "if that is so," she said, "all i can say is that you seem to have all the brains of your family!" with that i took my leave. * * * * * i reached the ballroom vestibule without meeting a soul. the place was crowded with people, officers in uniform, glittering with decorations, women in evening dress, coachmen, footmen, chauffeurs, waiters. everybody was talking sixteen to the dozen, and there were such dense knots of people that at first i couldn't see monica. two policemen were standing at the swing-doors leading into the street, and with them a civilian who looked like a detective. i caught sight of monica, almost at the detective's elbow, talking to two very elegant-looking officers. i pushed my way across the vestibule, turned my back on the detective and stood impassively beside her. "ah! there you are, carter!" she said. "gute nacht, herr baron! auf wiedersehen, durchlaucht!" the two officers kissed her hand whilst i helped her into her wrap. then i marched straight out of the swing-doors in front of her, looking neither to right nor to left, past the detective and the two policemen. the detective may have looked at me: if so, i didn't perceive it. i had made up my mind not to see him. outside monica took the lead and brought me over to a chocolate-coloured limousine drawn up at the pavement. i noted with dismay that the engine was stopped. that might mean further delay whilst i cranked up. but a friendly chauffeur standing by seized the handle and started the engine whilst i assisted monica into the car, and the next moment we were gliding smoothly over the asphalt under the twinkling arc-lamps. the bendler-strasse is off the tiergarten, not far from the esplanade, and i found my way there without much difficulty. i flatter myself that both monica and i played our parts well, and i am sure nothing could have been more professional than the way i helped her to alight. it was an apartment house and she had the key of the front door, so, after seeing her safely within doors, i returned to the car and drove it round to the garage by a carriage-way leading to the rear of the premises. as i unlocked the double doors of the garage, a man came down a ladder outside the place leading to the upper room. "did it work all right, sir?" he asked. "is that carter?" i said. "sure that's me," came the cheery response. "stand by now and we'll run her in. then i'll show you where you are to sleep!" we stowed the car away and he took me upstairs to his quarters, a bright little room with electric light, a table with a red cloth, a cheerful open fire and two beds. the walls were ornamented with pictures cut from the american sunday supplements, mostly feminine and horsy studies. "it's a bit rough, mister," said carter, "but it's the best i can do. gee! but you look that dawg-gorn tired i guess you could sleep anywheres!" he was a friendly fellow, pleasant-looking in an ugly way, with a button nose and honest eyes. "say, but i like to think of the way we fooled them deutschers," he chuckled. he kept on chuckling to himself whilst i took off my boots and began to undress. "that there is your bed," he said, pointing; "the footman used to sleep there but they grabbed him for the army. there's a pair of mr. gerry's pyjamas for you and you'll find a cup of cocoa down warming by the fire. it's all a bit rough, but it's the best we can do. i guess you want to go to sleep mortal bad, so i'll be going down. the bed's clean... there are clean sheets on it...." "but i won't turn you out of your room," i said. "there are two beds. you must take yours." "don't you fret yourself about me," he answered. "i'll make myself comfortable down in the garage. i don't often see a gentleman in this dawg-gorn country, and when i do i know how to treat him." he wouldn't listen to me, but stumped off down the stairs. as he went i heard him murmuring to himself: "gee! but we surely fooled those deutschers some!" i drank this admirable fellow's cocoa; i warmed myself at his fire. then with a thankful heart i crawled into bed and sank into a deep and dreamless sleep. chapter xii his excellency the general is worried i sat with monica in her boudoir, which, unlike the usual run of german rooms, had an open fireplace in which a cheerful fire was burning. monica, in a ravishing kimono, was perched on the leather railed seat running round the fireplace, one little foot in a satin slipper held out to the blaze. in that pretty room she made a charming picture, which for a moment almost made me forget the manifold dangers besetting me. the doughty carter had acquitted himself nobly of his task. when i awoke, feeling like a giant refreshed, he had the fire blazing merrily in the fireplace, while on the table a delicious breakfast of tea and fried eggs and biscuits was spread. "there ain't no call to mess yourself up inside with that dam' war bread of theirs," he chirped. "miss monica, she lets me have biscuits, same like she has herself. i always calls her miss monica," he explained, "like what they did over at her uncle's place in long island, where i used to work." after breakfast he produced hot water, a safety razor and other toilet requisites, a clean shirt and collar, an overcoat and a stetson hat--all from gerry's wardrobe, i presumed. my boots, too, were beautifully polished, and it was as a new man altogether, fresh in mind and clean in body, that i presented myself, about ten o'clock in the morning, at the front door and demanded the "frau gräfin." by carter's advice i had removed my moustache, and my clean-shaven countenance, together with my black felt hat and dark overcoat, gave me, i think, that appearance of rather dour respectability which one looks for in a male attendant. now monica and i sat and reviewed the situation together. "german servants spend their lives in prying into their masters' affairs," she said, "but we shan't be interrupted here. that door leads into gerry's room: he was asleep when i went in just now. i'll take you into him presently. now tell me about yourself ... and francis!" i told her again, but at greater length, all i knew about francis, his mission into germany, his long silence. "i acted on impulse," i said, "but, believe me, i acted for the best. only, everything seems to have conspired against me. i appear to have walked straight into a mesh of the most appalling complications which reach right up to the throne." "never mind, des," she said, leaning over and putting a little hand on my arm, "it was for francis; you and i would do anything to help him, wouldn't we? ... if he is still alive. impulse is not such a bad thing, after all. if i had acted on impulse once, maybe poor francis would not now be in the fix he is...." and she sighed. "things look black enough, des," she went on. "maybe you and i won't get the chance of another chat like this again and that's why i'm going to tell you something i have never told anybody else. i am only telling you so as you will know that, whatever happens, you will always find in me an ally in your search ... though, tied as i am, i scarcely think i can ever help you much. "your brother wanted me to marry him. i liked him better than anybody else i had ever met ... or have ever met since, for that matter.... daddy was dead, i was absolutely free to please myself, so no difficulties stood in the way. but your brother was proud ... his pride was greater than his love for me, i told him when we parted ... and he wouldn't hear of marriage until he had made himself independent, though i had enough for both of us. he wanted me to wait a year or two until he had got his business started properly, but his pride angered me and i wouldn't. "so we quarrelled and i went abroad with mrs. rushwood. francis never wrote: all i heard about him was an occasional scrap in your letters. mrs. rushwood was crazy about titles, and she ran me round from court to court, always looking for what she called a suitable _pari_ for me. at vienna we met rachwitz ... he was very good looking and very well mannered and seemed to be really fond of me. "well, i gave francis another chance. i wrote him a friendly letter and told him about rachwitz wanting to marry me and asked his advice. he wrote me back a beastly letter, a wicked letter, des. 'any girl who is fool enough to sell herself for a title,' he said, 'richly deserves a german husband.' what do you think of that?" "poor old francis," i said. "he was terribly fond of you, monica!" "well, his letter did it. i married rachwitz ... and have been miserable ever since. i'm not going to bore you with a long story about my matrimonial troubles. no! i'm not going to cry either! i'm not crying! karl is not a bad man, as german men go, and he's a gentleman, but his love affairs and his drunken parties and his attitude of mind towards me ... it was so utterly different to everything i had been used to. then you know, i left him...." "but, monica," i exclaimed, "what are you doing here then?" she sighed wearily. "i'm a german by marriage, des," she said, "you can't get away from that. my husband's country ... my country ... is at war and the wives must play their part, wherever their heart is. karl never asked me to come back, i'll give him the credit for that. i came of my own accord because i felt my place was here. so i go round to needlework parties and sewing bees and red cross matinées and try to be civil to the german women and listen to their boasting and bragging about their army, their hypocrisy about belgium, their vilification of the best friends daddy and i ever had, you english! but doing my duty by my husband does not forbid me to help my friends when they are in danger. that's why you can count on me, des." and she gave me her hand. "i want to be frank with you, too," i said, "so, whatever happens to me, you won't feel i have deceived you about things. i can't say much because my secret is not healthy for anyone to share, and, should they trace any connection between you and me, if they get me, it will be better for you not to have known anything compromising. but i want to tell you this. there is a consideration at stake which is higher than my own safety, higher even than francis'. i don't believe i am afraid to die: if i escape here, i shall probably get killed at the front sooner or later: it is because of this consideration i speak of that i want to get away with my life back to england." monica laughed happily. "why do men always take us women to be fools?" she said. "you're a dangerous man to have around, des, i know that, without worrying my head about any old secret. but you are my friend and francis' brother and i'm going to help you. "now, listen! old von boden was at that party last night: he came in late. rudi von boden, he told me, is going to take despatches to rumania, to mackensen's head-quarters. well, i telephoned the old man this morning and asked him if rudi would take a parcel for me to karl. he said he would and the general is coming here to lunch to-day to fetch it. "von boden is an old beast and runs after every woman he meets. he is by way of being partial to me, if you please, sir. i think i should be able to find out from him what are the latest developments in your case. there's nothing in the paper this morning about the affair at the esplanade. but then, these things are always hushed up." "he'll hardly say much in the circumstances," i objected "after all, the kaiser is involved...." "my dear des, opinion of feminine intelligence in military circles in this country is so low that the women in the army set at court are very often far better informed than the general staff. von boden will tell me all i want to know." what a girl she was! "about your friend, the clubfooted man," she went on, "i'm rather puzzled. he must be a person of considerable importance to be fetched by special train straight into the emperor's private apartments, where very few people ever penetrate, i assure you. but i've never heard of him. he's certainly not a court official. nor is he the head of the political police ... that's henninger, a friend of karl's. still, there are people of great importance working in dark places in this country and i guess clubfoot must be one of them. "now, i think i ought to take you into gerry. i want to speak to you about him, des. i daren't tell him who you are. gerry's not himself. he's been a nervous wreck ever since his accident and i can't trust him. he's a very conventional man and his principles would never hear of me harbouring a ... a ..." "spy?" i suggested. "no, a friend," she corrected. "so you'll just have to be a male nurse, i guess. a german-american would be best, i think, as you'll have to read the german papers to gerry--he doesn't know a word of german. then, you must have a name of some kind...." "frederick meyer," i suggested promptly, "from pittsburg. it'll have to be pittsburg: francis went there for a bit, you know: he wrote me a lot about the place and i've seen pictures of it, too. it's the only american city i know anything about." "let it be meyer from pittsburg, then," smiled monica, "but you've got a terrible english accent, des. i guess we'll have to tell gerry you were years nursing in london before the war." she hesitated a moment, then added: "des, i'm afraid you'll find gerry very trying. he's awfully irritable and ... and very spiteful. so you must be careful not to give yourself away." i had only met the brother once and my recollection of him was of a good looking, rather spoilt young man. he had been brought up entirely in the states by the long island uncle whose great fortune he had inherited. "you'll be quite safe up here for the present," monica went on. "you'll sleep in the little room off gerry's and i'll have your meals served there too. after i have found out from the general how things stand, we'll decide what's to be done next." "i'll be very wary with master gerry," i said. "but, monica, though he has only seen me once, he knows francis pretty well and we are rather alike. do you think he'll recognize me?" "why, desmond, it's years since he saw you. and you're not much like francis with your moustache off. if you're careful, it'll be all right! it isn't for long, either. now we'll go in. come along." as we entered, a petulant voice cried: "is that you, monica? say, am i to be left alone all the morning?" "gerry dear," answered monica very sweetly, "i've been engaging someone to look after you a bit. come here, meyer! this is frederick meyer, gerry!" i should never have recognized the handsome, rather indolent youth i had met in london in the pale man with features drawn with pain who gazed frowningly at me from the bed. "who is he? where did you get him from? does he know german?" he shot a string of questions at monica, who answered them in her sweet, patient way. he was apparently satisfied, for, when monica presently got up to leave us, he threw me an armful of german papers and bade me read to him. i had not sat with him for ten minutes before i realized what an impossible creature the man was. nothing i could do was right. now he didn't want to hear the war news, then it was the report of the reichstag debate that bored him, now i didn't read loud enough, then my voice jarred on him. finally, he snatched the paper out of my hand. "i can't understand half you say," he cried in accents shrill with irritability; "you mouth and mumble like an englishman. you say you are an american?" "yes, sir," i answered meekly, "but i resided for many years in england." "well, it's a good thing you're not there now. those english are just plumb crazy. they'll never whip germany, not if they try for a century. why, look what this country has done in this war? nothing can stand against her! it's organization, that's what it is! the germans lead the world. take their doctors! i have been to every specialist in america about my back and paid them thousands of dollars. and what good did they do me? not a thing. i come to germany, they charge me a quarter of the fees, and i feel a different man already. before tackling the germans, the english ..." thus he ran on. i knew the type well, the american who is hypnotized by german efficiency and thoroughness so completely that he does not see the reverse side of the medal. he exhausted himself on the topic at last and bade me read to him again. "read about the affair at the hotel esplanade last night," he commanded. i had kept an eye open for this very item but, as monica had said, the papers contained no hint of it. i wondered how gerry knew about it. monica would not have told him. "what affair do you mean?" i said. "there is nothing about it in the papers." "of course there is, you fool. what is the use of my hiring you to read the papers to me if you can't find news that's spread all over the place? it's no use giving me the paper ... you know i can't read it! here, josef will know!" a man-servant had come noiselessly into the room with some clothes. gerry turned to him. "josef, where did you see that story you were telling me about an english spy assaulting a man at the esplanade last night?" "dot ain't in de paper, sir. i haf heard dis from de chauffeur of de biedermanns next door. he wass at de hotel himself wid hiss shentleman lars' night at de dance. dey won't put dat in no paper, sir." and the man chuckled. i felt none too comfortable during all this and was glad to be told to read on and be damned. i read to the young american all the morning. he went on exactly like a very badly brought up child. he was fretful and quarrelsome and sometimes abusive, and i had some difficulty in keeping my temper. he continually recurred to my english accent and jeered so offensively and so pointedly at what he called "your english friends" that i began to believe there was some purpose behind his attitude. but it was only part of his invalid's fractiousness, for when the valet, josef, appeared with the luncheon tray, the american seemed anxious to make amends for his behaviour. "i'm afraid i'm a bit trying at times, meyer," he said with a pleasant smile. "but you're a good fellow. go and have your lunch. you needn't come back till four: i always sleep after luncheon. here, have a cigar!" i took the cigar with all humility as beseemed my rôle and followed the valet into an adjoining room, where the table was laid for me. i am keenly sensitive to outside influences, and i felt instinctively distrustful of the man josef. i expect he resented my intrusion into a sphere where his influence had probably been supreme and where he had doubtless managed to secure a good harvest of pickings. he left me to my luncheon and went away. after an excellent lunch, washed down by some first-rate claret, i was enjoying my cigar over a book when josef reappeared again. "the frau gräfin will see you downstairs!" he said. monica received me in a morning-room (the apartment was on two floors). she was very much agitated and had lost all her habitual calm. "des," she said, "von boden has been here!" "well!" i replied eagerly. "i wasn't very successful," she went on "i'm in deep water, des, and that's the truth. i have never seen the old general as he was to-day. he's a frightful bully and tyrant, but even his worst enemy never accused him of cowardice. but, des, to-day the man was cowed. he seemed to be in terror of his life and i had the greatest difficulty in making him say anything at all about your affair. "i made a joking allusion to the escapade at the hotel last night and he said: "'yesterday may prove the ruin of not only my career but that of my son's also. yesterday gained for me as an enemy, madam, a man whom it spells ruin, perhaps death, to offend.' "'you mean the emperor?' i asked. "'the emperor!' he said. 'oh! of course, he's furious. no, i was not speaking of the emperor!' "then he changed the subject and it took me all my tact to get back to it. i asked him if they had caught the author of the attack at the esplanade. he said, no, but it was only a question of time: the fellow couldn't escape. i said i supposed they would offer a reward and publish a description of the assailant all over the country. he told me they would do nothing of the sort. "'the public will hear nothing about the affair,' he said, 'and if you will take my advice, countess, you will forget all about it. in any case, the princess radolin is writing to all her guests at the ball last night to urge them strongly to say nothing about the incident. the employees of the hotel will keep their mouths shut. the interests at stake forbid that there should be any attempt whatsoever made in public to throw light on the affair.' "that is all i could get out of him. but i have something further to tell you. the general went away immediately after lunch. almost as soon as he had gone i was called to the telephone. dr. henninger was there: he is the head of the political police, you know. he gave me the same advice as the general, namely, to forget all about what occurred at the esplanade last night. and then the princess radolin rang me up to say the same thing. she seemed very frightened: she was quite tearful. someone evidently had scared her badly." "monica," i said, "it's quite clear i can't stay here. my dear girl, if i am discovered in your house, there is no knowing what trouble may not come upon you." "if there is any risk," she answered, "it's a risk i am ready to take. you have nowhere to go to in berlin, and if you are caught outside they might find out where you had been hiding and then we should be as badly off as before. no, you stay right on here, and maybe in a day or two i can get you away. i've been thinking something out. "karl has a place near the dutch frontier, schloss bellevue, it is called, close to cleves. it's an old place and has been in the family for generations. karl, however, only uses it as a shooting-box: we had big shoots up there every autumn before the war. "there has been no shooting there for two years now and the place is overstocked with game. the government has been appealing to people with shooting preserves to kill their game and put it on the market, so i had arranged to go up to bellevue this month and see the agent about this. i thought if i could prevail on gerry to come with me, you could accompany him and you might get across the dutch frontier from there. it's only about fifteen miles away from the castle. if i can get a move on gerry, there is no reason why we shouldn't go away in a day or two. in the meantime you'll be quite safe here." i told her i must think it over: she seemed to be risking too much. but i think my mind was already made up. i could not bring destruction on this faithful friend. then i went upstairs again to gerry, who was in as vile a temper as before. his lunch had disagreed with him: he hadn't slept: the room was not hot enough ... these were a few of the complaints he showered at me as soon as i appeared. he was in his most impish and malicious mood. he sent me running hither and thither: he gave me an order and withdrew it in the same breath: my complacency seemed to irritate him, to encourage him to provoke me. at last he came back to his old sore subject, my english accent. "i guess our good american is too homely for a fine english gentleman like you," he said, "but i believe you'll as lief speak as you were taught before you're through with this city. an english accent is not healthy in berlin at present, mister meyer, sir, and you'd best learn to talk like the rest of us if you want to keep on staying in this house. "i'm in no state to be worried just now and i've no notion of having the police in here because some of their dam' plain-clothes men have heard my attendant saying 'charnce' and 'darnce' like any britisher--especially with this english spy running round loose. by the way, you'll have to be registered? has my sister seen about it yet?" i said she was attending to it. "i want to know if she's done it. i'm a helpless cripple and i can't get a thing done for me. have you given her your papers? yes, or no?" this was a bad fix. with all the persistence of the invalid, the man was harping on his latest whim. so i lied. the countess had my papers, i said. instantly he rang the bell and demanded monica and had fretted himself into a fine state by the time she appeared. "what's this i hear, monica?" he cried in his high-pitched, querulous voice. "hasn't meyer been registered with the police yet?" "i'm going to see to it myself in the morning, gerry," she said. "in the morning. in the morning!" he cried, throwing up his hands. "good god, how can you be so shiftless? a law is a law. the man's papers must be sent in to-day ... this instant." monica looked appealingly at me. "i'm afraid i'm to blame, sir," i said. "the fact is, my passport is not quite in order and i shall have to take it to the embassy before i send it to the police." then i saw josef standing by the bed, a salver in his hand. "zom letters, sir," he said to gerry. i wondered how long he had been in the room. gerry waved the letters aside and burst into a regular screaming fit. he wouldn't have things done that way in the house; he wouldn't have unknown foreigners brought in, with the city thick with spies--especially people with an english accent--his nerves wouldn't stand it: monica ought to know better, and so on and so forth. the long and the short of it was that i was ordered to produce my passport immediately. monica was to ring up the embassy to ask them to stretch a point and see to it out of office hours, then josef should take me round to the police. i don't know how we got out of that room. it was monica, with her sweet womanly tact, who managed it. i believe the madman even demanded to see my passport, but monica scraped me through that trap as well. i had left my hat and coat in the entrance hall downstairs. i put on my coat, then went to monica in the morning-room. there was much she wanted to say--i could see it in her eyes--but i think she gathered from my face what i was going to do, so she said nothing. at the door i said aloud, for the benefit of josef, who was on the stairs: "very good, my lady. i will come straight back from the embassy and then go with josef to the police." the next moment i was adrift in berlin. chapter xiii i find achilles in his tent outside darkness had fallen. i had a vague suspicion that the house might be watched, but i found the bendler-strasse quite undisturbed. it ran its quiet, aristocratic length to the tangle of bare branches marking the tiergarten-strasse with not so much as a dog to strike terror into the heart of the amateur spy. even in the tiergarten-strasse, where the jewish millionaires live, there was little traffic and few people about, and i felt singularly unromantic as i walked briskly along the clean pavements towards unter den linden. once more the original object of my journey into germany stood clearly before me. an extraordinary series of adventures had deflected me from my course, but never from my purpose. i realized that i should never feel happy in my mind again if i left germany without being assured as to my brother's fate. and now i was on the threshold either of a great discovery or of an overwhelming disappointment. for the street called in den zelten was my next objective. i knew i might be on the wrong track altogether in my interpretation of what i was pleased to term in my mind the message from francis. if i had read it falsely--if, perhaps, it were not from him at all--then all the hopes i had built on this mad dash into the enemy's country would collapse like a house of cards. then, indeed, i should be in a sorry pass. but my luck was in, i felt. hitherto, i had triumphed over all difficulties. i would trust in my destiny to the last. i had taken the precaution of turning up my overcoat collar and of pulling my hat well down over my eyes, but no one troubled me. i reflected that only clubfoot and schmalz were in a position to recognize me and that, if i steered clear of places like hotels and restaurants and railway stations, where criminals always seem to be caught, i might continue to enjoy comparative immunity. but the trouble was the passport question. that reminded me. i must get rid of semlin's passport. as i walked along i tore it into tiny pieces, dropping each fragment at a good interval from the other. it cost me something to do it, for a passport is always useful to flash in the eyes of the ignorant. but this passport was dangerous. it might denounce me to a man who would not otherwise recognize me. i had some difficulty in finding in den zelten. i had to ask the way, once of a postman and once of a wounded soldier who was limping along with crutches. finally, i found it, a narrowish street running off a corner of the great square in front of the reichstag. no. was the second house on the right. i had no plan. nevertheless, i walked boldly upstairs. there was but one flat on each floor. at the third story i halted, rather out of breath, in front of a door with a small brass plate inscribed with the name "eugen kore." i rang the bell boldly. an elderly man-servant opened the door. "is herr eugen kore at home?" i asked. the man looked at me suspiciously. "has the gentleman an appointment?" he said. "no," i replied. "then the herr will not receive the gentleman," came the answer, and the man made as though to close the door. i had an inspiration. "a moment!" i cried, and i added the word "achilles" in a low voice. the servant opened the door wide to me. "why didn't you say that at once?" he said. "please step in. i will see if the herr can receive you." he led the way through a hall into a sitting-room and left me there. the place was a perfect museum of art treasures, old dutch and italian masters on the walls, some splendid florentine chests, a fine old dresser loaded with ancient pewter. on a mantelshelf was an extraordinary collection of old keys, each with its label. "key of the fortress of spandau, ." "key of the postern gate of the pasha's palace at belgrade, ," "house key from nuremberg, ," were some of the descriptions i read. then a voice behind me said: "ah! you admire my little treasures!" turning, i saw a short, stout man, of a marked jewish appearance, with a bald head, a fat nose, little beady eyes and a large waist. "eugen kore!" he introduced himself with a bow. "meyer!" i replied, in the german fashion. "and what can we do for herr ... meyer?" he asked in oily tones, pausing just long enough before he pronounced the name i gave to let me see that he believed it to be a pseudonym. "i believe you know a friend of mine, whose address i am anxious to find," i said. "ah!" sighed the little jew, "a man of affairs like myself meets so many people that he may be pardoned.... what did you say his name was, this friend of yours?" i thought i would try the effect of the name "eichenholz" upon this enigmatic creature. "eichenholz? eichenholz?" kore repeated. "i seem to know the name ... it seems familiar ... now let me see again.... eichenholz, eichenholz. ..." while he was speaking he unlocked one of the oak cabinets and a safe came to view. opening this, he brought out a ledger and ran his finger down the names. then he shut the book, replaced it, locked the safe and the cabinet, and turned to me again. "yes," he said, "i know the name." his reticence was disconcerting. "can you tell me where i can find him?" i asked. "yes," was the reply. i was getting a trifle nettled. "well, where?" i queried. "this is all very well, young sir," said the jew. "you come in here from nowhere, you introduce yourself as meyer; you ask me 'who?' and 'what?' and 'where?'--questions that, mark you, in my business, may have valuable answers. we private enquiry agents must live, my dear sir, we must eat and drink like other men, and these are hard times, very hard times. i will ask you a question if i may. meyer? who is meyer? everybody in this country is called meyer!" i smiled at this bizarre speech. "this eichenholz, now," i said, "... supposing he were my brother." "he might congratulate himself," kore said, blinking his little lizard eyes. "and he sent me word to call and see you to find out his whereabouts. you seem to like riddles, herr kore.... i will read you one!" and i read him the message from francis ... all but the first two lines. the little jew beamed with delight. "ach! that is bright!" he cried, "oi, oi, oi, but he is smart, this herr eichenholz! who'd have thought of that? brilliant, brilliant!" "as you say, herr kore, enquiry agents must live, and i am quite prepared to pay for the information i require...." i pulled out my portfolio as i spoke. "the matter is quite simple," kore replied. "it is already arranged. the charge is five hundred marks. my client said to me the last time i saw him, 'kore,' he said, 'if one should come asking news of me you will give him the word and he will pay you five hundred marks.'" "the word?" i said. "the word," he repeated. "you must take dutch money," i said. "here you are ... work it out in gulden ... and i'll pay!" he manipulated a stump of pencil on a writing block and i paid him his money. then he said: "boonekamp!" "boonekamp?" i echoed stupidly. "that's the word," the little jew chuckled, laughing at my dumbfounded expression, "and, if you want to know, i understand it as little as you do." "but ... boonekamp," i repeated. "is it a man's name, a place? it sounds dutch. have you no idea? ... come, i'm ready to pay." "perhaps ..." the jew began. "what? perhaps what?" i exclaimed impatiently. "possibly...." "out with it, man!" i cried, "and say what you mean." "perhaps, if i could render to the gentleman the service i rendered to his brother, i might be able to throw light...." "what service did you render to my brother?" i demanded hastily. "i'm in the dark." "has the gentleman no little difficulty perhaps? ... about his military service, about his papers? the gentleman is young and strong ... has he been to the front? was life irksome there? did he ever long for the sweets of home life? did he never envy those who have been medically rejected? the rich men's sons, perhaps, with clever fathers who know how to get what they want?" his little eyes bored into mine like gimlets. i began to understand. "and if i had?" "then all old kore can say is that the gentleman has come to the right shop, as his gracious brother did. how can we serve the gentleman now? what are his requirements? it is a difficult, a dangerous business. it costs money, much money, but it can be arranged ... it can be arranged." "but if you do for me what you did for my brother," i said, "i don't see how that helps to explain this word, this clue to his address!" "my dear sir, i am as much in the dark as you are yourself about the significance of this word. but i can tell you this, your brother, thanks to my intervention, found himself placed in a situation in which he might well have come across this word...." "well?" i said impatiently. "well, if we obliged the gentleman as we obliged his brother, the gentleman might be taken where his brother was taken, the gentleman is young and smart, he might perhaps find a clue ..." "stop talking riddles, for heaven's sake!" i cried in exasperation, "and answer my questions plainly. first, what did you do for my brother?" "your brother had deserted from the front--that is the most difficult class of business we have to deal with--we procured him a _permis de séjour_ for fifteen days and a post in a safe place where no enquiries would be made after him." "and then?" i cried, trembling with curiosity. the jew shrugged his shoulders, waving his hands to and fro in the air. "then he disappeared. i saw him a few days before he went, and he gave me the instructions i have repeated to you for anybody who should come asking for him." "but didn't he tell you where he was going?" "he didn't even tell me he was going, herr. he just vanished." "when was this?" "somewhere about the first week in july ... it was the week of the bad news from france." the message was dated july st, i remembered. "i have a good set of swedish papers," the jew continued, "very respectable timber merchant ... with those one could live in the best hotels and no one say a word. or hungarian papers, a party rejected medically ... very safe those, but perhaps the gentleman doesn't speak hungarian. that would be essential." "i am in the same case as my brother," i said, "i must disappear." "not a deserter, herr?" the jew cringed at the word. "yes," i said. "after all, why not?" "i daren't do this kind of business any more, my dear sir, i really daren't! they are making it too dangerous." "come, come!" i said, "you were boasting just now that you could smooth out any difficulties. you can produce me a very satisfactory passport from somewhere, i am sure!" "passport! out of the question, my dear sir! let once one of my passports go wrong and i am ruined. oh, no! no passports where deserters are concerned! i don't like the business ... it's not safe! at the beginning of the war ... ah! that was different! oi, oi, but they ran from the yser and from ypres! oi, oi, and from verdun! but now the police are more watchful. no! it is not worth it! it would cost you too much money, besides." i thought the miserable cur was trying to raise the price on me, but i was mistaken. he was frightened: the business was genuinely distasteful to him. i tried, as a final attempt to persuade him, an old trick: i showed him my money. he wavered at once, and, after many objections, protesting to the last, he left the room. he returned with a handful of filthy papers. "i oughtn't to do it; i know i shall rue it; but you have overpersuaded me and i liked herr eichenholz, a noble gentleman and free with his money--see here, the papers of a waiter, julius zimmermann, called up with the landwehr but discharged medically unfit, military pay-book and _permis de séjour_ for fifteen days. these papers are only a guarantee in case you come across the police: no questions will be asked where i shall send you." "but a fifteen days' permit!" i said. "what am i to do at the end of that time?" "leave it to me," kore said craftily. "i will get it renewed for you. it will be all right!" "but in the meantime...." i objected. "i place you as waiter with a friend of mine who is kind to poor fellows like yourself. your brother was with him." "but i want to be free to move around." "impossible," the jew answered firmly. "you must get into your part and live quietly in seclusion until the enquiries after you have abated. then we may see as to what is next to be done. there you are, a fine set of papers and a safe, comfortable life far away from the trenches--all snug and secure--cheap (in spite of the danger to me), because you are a lad of spirit and i liked your brother ... ten thousand marks!" i breathed again. once we had reached the haggling stage, i knew the papers would be mine all right. with semlin's money and my own i found i had about £ , but i had no intention of paying out £ straight away. so i beat the fellow down unmercifully and finally secured the lot for marks--£ . but, even after i had paid the fellow his money, i was not done with him. he had his eye on his perquisites. "your clothes will never do," he said; "such richness of apparel, such fine stuff--we must give you others." he rang the bell. the old man-servant appeared. "a waiter's suit--for the linien-strasse!" he said. then he led me into a bedroom where a worn suit of german shoddy was spread out on a sofa. he made me change into it, and then handed me a threadbare green overcoat and a greasy green felt hat. "so!" he said. "now, if you don't shave for a day or two, you will look the part to the life!"--a remark which, while encouraging, was hardly complimentary. he gave me a muffler to tie round my neck and lower part of my face and, with that greasy hat pulled down over my eyes and in those worn and shrunken clothes, i must say i looked a pretty villainous person, the very antithesis of the sleek, well-dressed young fellow that had entered the flat half an hour before. "now, julius," said kore humorously, "come, my lad, and we will seek out together the good situation i have found for you." a horse-cab was at the door and we entered it together. the jew chatted pleasantly as we rattled through the darkness. he complimented me on my ready wit in deciphering francis' message. "how do you like my idea?" he said, "'achilles in his tent'... that is the device of the hidden part of my business--you observe the parallel, do you not?' achilles holding himself aloof from the army and young men like yourself who prefer the gentle pursuits of peace to the sterner profession of war! clients of mine who have enjoyed a classical education have thought very highly of the humour of my device." the cab dropped us at the corner of the friedrich-strasse, which was ablaze with light from end to end, and the linien-strasse, a narrow, squalid thoroughfare of dirty houses and mean shops. the street was all but deserted at that hour save for an occasional policeman, but from cellars with steps leading down from the streets came the jingle of automatic pianos and bursts of merriment to show that the linien-strasse was by no means asleep. before one of these cellar entrances the jew stopped. at the foot of the steep staircase leading down from the street was a glazed door, its panels all glistening with moisture from the heated atmosphere within. kore led the way down, i following. a nauseous wave of hot air, mingled with rank tobacco smoke, smote us full as we opened the door. at first i could see nothing except a very fat man, against a dense curtain of smoke, sitting at a table before an enormous glass goblet of beer. then, as the haze drifted before the draught, i distinguished the outline of a long, low-ceilinged room, with small tables set along either side and a little bar, presided over by a tawdry female with chemically tinted hair, at the end. most of the tables were occupied, and there was almost as much noise as smoke in the place. a woman's voice screamed: "shut the door, can't you, i'm freezing!" i obeyed and, following kore to a table, sat down. a man in his shirt-sleeves, who was pulling beer at the bar, left his beer-engine and, coming across the room to kore, greeted him cordially, and asked him what we would take. kore nudged me with his elbow. "we'll take a boonekamp each, haase," he said. chapter xiv clubfoot comes to haase's kore presently retired to an inner room with the man in shirt-sleeves, whom i judged to be the landlord, and in a little the flaxen-haired lady at the bar beckoned me over and bade me join them. "this is julius zimmermann, the young man i have spoken of," said the jew; then turning to me: "herr haase is willing to take you on as waiter here on my recommendation, julius, see that you do not make me repent of my kindness!" here the man in shirt-sleeves, a great, fat fellow with a bullet head and a huge double chin, chuckled loudly. "kolossal!" he cried. "herr kore loves his joke! ausgezeichnet!" and he wagged his head roguishly at me. on that kore took his leave, promising to look in and see how i was faring in a few days' time. the landlord opened a low door in the corner and revealed a kind of large cupboard, windowless and horribly stale and stuffy, where there were two unsavoury-looking beds. "you will sleep here with otto," said the landlord. pointing to a dirty white apron lying on one of the beds, he bade me take off my overcoat and jacket and put it on. "it was johann's," he said, "but johann won't want it any more. a good lad, johann, but rash. i always said he would come to a bad end." and he laughed noisily. "you can go and help with the waiting now," he went on. "otto will show you what to do!" and so i found myself, within twenty-four hours, spy, male nurse and waiter in turn. i am loth to dwell on the degradation of the days that followed. that cellar tavern was a foul sink of iniquity, and in serving the dregs of humanity that gathered nightly there i felt i had indeed sunk to the lowest depths. the place was a regular thieves' kitchen ... what is called in the hideous yiddish jargon that is the criminal slang of modern germany a "kaschemme." never in my life have i seen such brutish faces as those that leered at me nightly through the smoke haze as i shuffled from table to table in my mean german clothes. gallows' birds, sneak thieves, receivers, bullies, prostitutes and harpies of every description came together every evening in herr haase's beer-cellar. many of the men wore the soiled and faded field-grey of the soldier back from the front, and in looking at their sordid, vulpine faces, inflamed with drink, i felt i could fathom the very soul of belgium's misery. the conversation was all of crime and deeds of violence. the men back from the front told gloatingly of rapine and feastings in lonely belgian villages or dwelt ghoulishly on the horrors of the battlefield, the mounds of decaying corpses, the ghastly mutilations they had seen in the dead. there were tales, too, of "vengeance" wreaked on "the treacherous english." one story, in particular, of the fate of a scottish sergeant ... "der hochländer" they called him in this oft-told tale ... still makes me quiver with impotent rage when i think of it. one evening the name of the hotel esplanade caught my ear. i approached the table and found two flashily dressed bullies and a bedraggled drab from the streets talking in admiration of my exploit. "clubfoot met his match that time," the woman cried. "the dirty dog! but why didn't this english spy make a job of it and kill the scum? pah!" and she spat elegantly into the sawdust on the floor. "i wouldn't be in that fellow's shoes for something," muttered one of the men. "no one ever had the better of clubfoot yet. do you remember meinhardt, franz? he tried to cheat clubfoot, and we know what happened to him!" "they're raking the whole city for this englishman," answered the other man. "vogel, who works for section seven, you know the man i mean, was telling me. they've done every hotel in berlin and the suburbs, but they haven't found him. they raided bauer's in the favoriten-strasse last night. the englishman wasn't there, but they got three or four others they were looking for--fritz and another deserter included. i was nearly there myself!" i was always hearing references of this kind to my exploit. i was never spoken of except in terms of admiration, but the name of clubfoot--der stelze--excited only execration and terror. i lived in daily fear of a raid at haase's. why the place had escaped so long, with all that riff-raff assembled there nightly, i couldn't imagine. it was one of those defects in german organization which puzzle the best of us at times. in the meantime, i was powerless to escape. the first thing haase had done was to take away my papers--to send them to the police, as he explained--but he never gave them back, and when i asked for them he put me off with an excuse. i was a virtual prisoner in the place. on my feet from morning till night, i had indeed few opportunities for going out; but once, during a slack time in the afternoon, when i broached the subject to the landlord, he refused harshly to let me out of his sight. "the street is not healthy for you just now. you would be a danger to yourself and to all of us!" he said. my life in that foul den was a burden to me. the living conditions were unspeakable. otto, a pale and ill-tempered consumptive, compelled, like me, to rise in the darkness of the dawn, never washed, and his companionship in the stuffy hole where we slept was offensive beyond belief. he openly jeered at my early morning journeys out to a narrow, stinking court, where i exulted in the ice-cold water from the pump. and the food! it was only when i saw the mean victuals--the coarse and often tainted horseflesh, the unappetizing war-bread, the coffee substitute, and the rest--that i realized how germany was suffering, though only through her poor as yet, from the british blockade. that thought used to help to overcome the nausea with which i sat down to eat. domestic life at haase's was a hell upon earth. haase himself was a drunken bully, who made advances to every woman he met, and whose complicated intrigues with the feminine portion of his clientèle led to frequent scenes with the fair-haired hebe who presided at the bar and over his household. it was she and otto who fared daily forth to take their places in the long queues that waited for hours with food cards outside the provision shops. these trips seemed to tell upon her temper, which would flash out wrathfully at meal-times, when haase began his inevitable grumbling about the food. as otto took a malicious delight in these family scenes, i was frequently called upon to assume the role of peace-maker. more than once i intervened to save madame from the violence she had called down upon herself by the sharpness of her tongue. she was a poor, faded creature, and the tragedy of it all was that she was in love with this degraded bully. she was grateful to me for my good offices, i think, for, though she hardly ever addressed me, her manner was always friendly. these days of dreary squalor would have been unbearable if it had not been for my elucidation of the word boonekamp, which was said to hold the clue to my brother's address. on the wall in the cubby-hole where i slept was a tattered advertisement card of this _apéritif_--for such is the preparation--proclaiming it to be "germany's best cordial." as i undressed at night, i often used to stare at this placard, wondering what connection boonekamp could possibly have with my brother. i determined to take the first opportunity of examining the card itself. one morning, while otto was out in the queue at the butcher's, i slipped away from the cellar to our sleeping-place and, lighting my candle, took down the card and examined it closely. it was perfectly plain, red letters on a green background in front, white at the back. as i was replacing the card on the nail i saw some writing in pencil on the wall where the card had hung. my heart seemed to stand still with the joy of my discovery. for the writing was in my brother's neat, artistic hand, the words were english, and, best of all, my brother's initials were attached. this is what i read: (facsimile.) . . . "you will find me at the café regina, düsseldorf--f.o." after that i felt i could bear with everything. the message awakened hope that was fast dying in my heart. at least on july th, francis was alive. to that fact i clung as to a sheet-anchor. it gave me courage for the hardest part of all my experiences in germany, those long days of waiting in that den of thieves. for i knew i must be patient. presently, i hoped, i might extract my papers from haase or persuade kore, when he came back, to see me, to give me a permit that would enable me to get to düsseldorf. but the term of my permit was fast running out and the jew never came. there were often moments when i longed to ask haase or one of the others about the time my brother had served in that place. but i feared to draw attention to myself. no one asked any questions of me (questions as to personal antecedents were discouraged at haase's), and, as long as i remained the unpaid, useful drudge i felt that my desire for obscurity would be respected. desultory questions about my predecessors elicited no information about francis. the haase establishment seemed to have had a succession of vague and shadowy retainers. only about johann, whose apron i wore, did otto become communicative. "a stupid fellow!" he declared. "he was well off here. haase liked him, the customers liked him, especially the ladies. but he must fall in love with frau hedwig (the lady at the bar), then he quarrelled with haase and threatened him--you know, about customers who haven't got their papers in order. the next time johann went out, they arrested him. and he was shot at spandau!" "shot?" i exclaimed. "why?" "as a deserter." "but was he a deserter?" "ach! was! but he had a deserter's papers in his pockets ... his own had vanished. ach! it's a bad thing to quarrel with haase!" i made a point of keeping on the right side of the landlord after that. by my unfailing diligence i even managed to secure his grudging approval, though he was always ready to fly into a passion at the least opportunity. one evening about six o'clock a young man, whom i had never seen among our regular customers, came down the stairs from the street and asked for haase, who was asleep on the sofa in the inner room. at the sight of the youth, frau hedwig jumped off her perch behind the bar and vanished. she came back directly and, ignoring me, conducted the young man into the inner room, where he remained for about half an hour. then he reappeared again, accompanied by frau hedwig, and went off. i was shocked by the change in the appearance of the woman. her face was pale, her eyes red with weeping, and her eyes kept wandering towards the door. it was a slack time of the day within and the cellar was free of customers. "you look poorly, frau hedwig," i said. "trouble with haase again?" she looked up at me and shook her head, her eyes brimming over. a tear ran down the rouge on her cheek. "i must speak," she said. "i can't bear this suspense alone. you are a kind young man. you are discreet. julius, there is trouble brewing for us!" "what do you mean?" i asked. a foreboding of evil rose within me. "kore!" she whispered. "kore?" i echoed. "what of him?" she looked fearfully about her. "he was taken yesterday morning," she said. "do you mean arrested?" i exclaimed, unwilling to believe the staggering news. "they entered his apartment early in the morning and seized him in bed. ach! it is dreadful!" and she buried her face in her hands. "but surely," i added soothingly, though with an icy fear at my heart, "there is no need to despair. what is an arrest to-day with all these regulations...." the woman raised her face, pallid beneath its paint, to mine. "kore was shot at moabit prison this morning," she said in a low voice. "that young man brought the news just now." then she added breathlessly, her words pouring out in a torrent: "you don't know what this means to us. haase had dealings with this jew. if they have shot him, it is because they have found out from him all they want to know. that means our ruin, that means that haase will go the same way as the jew. "but haase is stubborn, foolhardy. the messenger warned him that a raid might be expected here at any moment. i have pleaded with him in vain. he believes that kore has split; he believes the police may come, but he says they daren't touch him: he has been too useful to them: he knows too much. ach, i am afraid! i am afraid!" haase's voice sounded from the inner room. "hedwig!" he called. the woman hastily dried her eyes and disappeared through the door. the coast was clear, if i wanted to escape, but where could i go, without a paper or passport, a hunted man? the news of kore's arrest and execution haunted me. of course, the man was in a most perilous trade, and had probably been playing the game for years. but suppose they had tracked me to the house in the street called in den zelten. i crossed the room and opened the door to the street. i had never set foot outside since i had come, and, hopeless as it would be for me to attempt to escape, i thought i might reconnoitre the surroundings of the beer-cellar for the event of flight. i lightly ran up the stairs to the street and nearly cannoned into a man who was lounging in the entrance. we both apologized, but he stared at me hard before he strolled on. then i saw another man sauntering along on the opposite side of the street. further away, at the corner, two men were loitering. every one of them had his eyes fixed on the cellar entrance at which i was standing. i knew they could not see my face, for the street was but dimly lit, and behind me was the dark background of the cellar stairway. i took a grip on my nerves and very deliberately lit a cigarette and smoked it, as if i had come up from below to get a breath of fresh air. i waited a little while and then went down. i was scarcely back in the cellar when haase appeared from the inner room, followed by the woman. he carried himself erect, and his eyes were shining. i didn't like the man, but i must say he looked game. in his hand he carried my papers. "here you are, my lad," he said in quite a friendly tone, "put 'em in your pocket--you may want 'em to-night." i glanced at the papers before i followed his advice. he noted my action and laughed. "they have told you about johann," he said. "never fear, julius, you and i are good friends." the papers were those of julius zimmermann all right. we were having supper at one of the tables in the front room--there were only a couple of customers, as it was so early--when a man, a regular visitor of ours, came down the stairs hurriedly. he went straight over to haase and spoke into his ear. "mind yourself, haase," i heard him say. "do you know who had kore arrested and shot? it was clubfoot. there is more in this than we know. mind yourself and get out! in an hour or so it may be too late." then he scurried away, leaving me dazed. "by god!" said the landlord, bringing a great fist down on the table so that the glasses rang, "they won't touch me. not the devil himself will make me leave this house before they come, if coming they are!" the woman burst into tears, while otto blinked his watery eyes in terror. i sat and looked at my plate, my heart too full for words. it was bitter to have dared so much to get this far and then find the path blocked, as it seemed, by an insuperable barrier. they were after me all right: the mention of clubfoot's name, the swift, stern retribution that had befallen kore, made that certain--and i could do nothing. that cellar was a cul-de-sac, a regular trap, and i knew that if i stirred a foot from the house i should fall into the hands of those men keeping their silent vigil in the street. therefore, i must wait, as calmly as i might, and see what the evening would bring forth. gradually the cellar filled up as people drifted in, but many familiar faces, i noticed, were missing. evidently the ill tidings had spread. once a man looked in for a glass of beer and drifted out again, leaving the door open. as i was closing it, i heard a muffled exclamation and the sound of a scuffle at the head of the stairs. it was so quietly done that nobody below, save myself, knew what had happened. the incident showed me that the watch was well kept. the evening wore on--interminably, as it seemed to me. i darted to and fro from the bar, laden with mugs of beer and glasses of schnaps, incessantly, up and down. but i never failed, whenever there came a pause in the orders, to see that my journey finished somewhere in the neighbourhood of the door. a faint hope was glimmering in my brain. until the end of my life, that interminable evening in the beer-cellar will remain stamped in my memory. i can still see the scene in its every detail, and i know i shall carry the picture with me to the grave; the long, low room with its blackened ceiling, the garish yellow gaslight, the smoke haze, the crowded tables, otto, shuffling hither and hither with his mean and sulky air, frau hedwig, preoccupied at her desk, red-eyed, a graven image of woe, and haase, presiding over the beer-engine, silent, defiant, calm, but watchful every time the door opened. when at last the blow fell, it came suddenly. a trampling of feet on the stairs, a great blowing of whistles ... then the door was burst open just as everybody in the cellar sprang to their feet amid exclamations and oaths from the men and shrill screams from the women. outlined in the doorway stood clubfoot, majestic, authoritative, wearing some kind of little skull-cap, such as duelling students wear, over a black silk handkerchief bound about his head. at the sight of the man the hubbub ceased on the instant. all were still save haase, whose bull-like voice roaring for silence broke on the quiet of the room with the force of an explosion. i was in my corner by the door, pressed back against the coats and hats hanging on the wall. in front of me a frieze of frightened faces screened me from observation. quickly, i slipped off my apron. clubfoot, after casting a cursory glance round the room, strode its length towards the bar where haase stood, a crowd of plain-clothes men and policemen at his heels. then quite suddenly the light went out, plunging the place into darkness. instantly the room was in confusion; women screamed; a voice, which i recognized as clubfoot's, bawled stentorianly for lights ... the moment had come to act. i grabbed a hat and coat from the hall, got into them somehow, and darted to the door. in the dim light shining down the stairs from a street lamp outside, i saw a man at the door. apparently he was guarding it. "back!" he cried, as i stepped up to him. i flashed in his eyes the silver star i held in my hand. "the chief wants lanterns!" i said low in his ear. he grabbed my hand holding the badge and lowered it to the light. "all right, comrade," he replied. "drechsler has a lantern, i think! you'll find him outside!" i rushed up the stairs right into a group of three policemen. "the chief wants drechsler at once with the lantern," i shouted, and showed my star. the three dispersed in different directions calling for drechsler. i walked quickly away. chapter xv the waiter at the cafe regina i calculated that i had at least two hours, at most three, in which to get clear of berlin. however swiftly clubfoot might act, it would take him certainly an hour and a half, i reckoned, from the discovery of my flight from haase's to warn the police at the railway stations to detain me. if i could lay a false trail i might at the worst prolong this period of grace; at the best i might mislead him altogether as to my ultimate destination, which was, of course, düsseldorf. the unknown quantity in my reckonings was the time it would take clubfoot to send out a warning all over germany to detain julius zimmermann, waiter and deserter, wherever and whenever apprehended. at the first turning i came to after leaving haase's, tram-lines ran across the street. a tram was waiting, bound in a southerly direction, where the centre of the city lay. i jumped on to the front platform beside the woman driver. it is fairly dark in front and the conductor cannot see your face as you pay your fare through a trap in the door leading to the interior of the tram. i left the tram at unter den linden and walked down some side streets until i came across a quiet-looking café. there i got a railway guide and set about reviewing my plans. it was ten minutes to twelve. a man in my position would in all probability make for the frontier. so, i judged, clubfoot must calculate, though, i fancied, he must have wondered why i had not long since attempted to escape back to england. düsseldorf was on the main road to holland, and it would certainly be the more prudent course, say, to make for the rhine and travel on to my destination by a rhine steamer. but time was the paramount factor in my case. by leaving immediately--that very night--for düsseldorf i might possibly reach there before the local authorities had had time to receive the warning to be on the look-out for a man answering to my description. if i could leave behind in berlin a really good false clue, it was just possible that clubfoot might follow it up _before_ taking general dispositions to secure my arrest if that clue failed. i decided i must gamble on this hypothesis. the railway guide showed that a train left for düsseldorf from the potsdamer bahnhof--the great railway terminus in the very centre of berlin--at . a.m. that left me roughly three-quarters of an hour to lay my false trail and catch my train. my false trail should lead clubfoot in a totally unexpected direction, i determined, for it is the unexpected that first engages the notice of the alert, detective type of mind. i would also have to select another terminus. why not munich? a large city on the high road to a foreign frontier--switzerland--with authorities whose easy-going ways are proverbial in germany. you leave berlin for munich from the anhalter bahnhof, a terminus which was well suited for my purpose, as it is only a few minutes' drive from the potsdamer station. the railway guide showed there was a train leaving for munich at . a.m.--an express. that would do admirably. munich it should be then. fortunately i had plenty of money. i had taken the precaution of getting kore to change my money into german notes before we left in den zelten ... at a preposterous rate of exchange, be it said. how lost i should have been without semlin's wad of notes! i paid for my coffee and set forth again. it was . as i walked into the hall of the anhalt station. remembering the ruse which the friendly guide at rotterdam had taught me, i began by purchasing a platform ticket. then i looked about for an official upon whom i could suitably impress my identity. presently i espied a pompous-looking fellow in a bright blue uniform and scarlet cap, some kind of junior stationmaster, i thought. i approached him and, raising my hat, politely asked him if he could tell me when there was a train leaving for munich. "the express goes at . ," he said, "but only first and second class, and you'll have to pay the supplementary charge. the slow train is not till . ." i assumed an expression of vexation. "i suppose i must go by the express," i said. "can you tell me where the booking-office is?" the official pointed to a pigeon-hole and i took care to speak loud enough for him to hear me ask for a second-class ticket, single, to munich. i walked upstairs and presented my munich ticket to the collector at the barrier. then i hurried past the main-line platforms over the suburban side, where i gave up my platform ticket and descended again to the street. it was just on the half-hour as i came out of the station. not a cab to be seen! i hastened as fast as my legs would carry me until, breathless and panting, i reached the potsdam terminus. the clock over the station pointed to . . a long queue, composed mostly of soldiers returning to belgium and the front, stood in front of the booking-office. the military were getting their warrants changed for tickets. i chafed at the delay, but it was actually this circumstance which afforded me the chance of getting my ticket for düsseldorf without leaving any clue behind. a big, bearded landsturm man with a kind face was at the pigeon-hole. "i am very late for my train, my friend," i said, "would you get me a third-class single for düsseldorf?" i handed him a twenty-mark note. "right you are," he answered readily. "there," he said, handing me my ticket and a handful of change, "and lucky you are to be going to the rhine. i'm from the rhine myself and now i'm going back to guarding the bridges in belgium!" i thanked him and wished him luck. here at least was a witness who was not likely to trouble me. and with a thankful heart i bolted on to the platform and caught the train. third-class travel in germany is not a hobby to be cultivated if your means allow the luxury of better accommodation. the travelling german has a habit of taking off his boots when he journeys in the train by night--and a carriageful of lower middle-class huns, thus unshod, in the temperature at which railway compartments are habitually kept in germany, is an environment which makes neither for comfort nor for sleep. the atmosphere, indeed, was so unbearable that i spent most of the night in the corridor. here i was able to destroy the papers of julius zimmermann, waiter ... i felt i was in greater danger whilst i had them on me ... and to assure myself that my precious document was in its usual place--in my portfolio. it was then i made the discovery, annihilating at the first shock, that my silver badge had disappeared. i could not remember what i had done with it in the excitement of my escape from haase's. i remembered having it in my hand and showing it to the police at the top of the stairs, but after that my mind was a blank. i could only imagine i must have carried it unconsciously in my hand and then dropped it unwittingly. i looked at the place where it had been clasped on my braces: it was not there and i searched all my pockets for it in vain. i had relied upon it as a stand-by in case there were trouble at the station in düsseldorf. now i found myself defenceless if i were challenged. it was a hard knock, but i consoled myself by the reflection that, by now, clubfoot knew i had this badge ... it would doubtless figure in any description circulated about me. it was a most unpleasant journey. there was some kind of choral society on the train, occupying seven or eight compartments of the third-class coach in which i was travelling. for the first few hours they made night hideous with part-songs, catches and glees chanted with a volume of sound that in that confined place was simply deafening. then the noise abated as one by one the singers dropped off to sleep. presently silence fell, while the train rushed forward in the darkness bearing me towards fresh perils, fresh adventures. * * * * * a gust of fresh air in my face, the trample of feet, loud greetings in guttural german, awoke me with a start. it was broad daylight and through my compartment, to which i had crept in the night, weary with standing, filed the jovial members of the choral society, with bags in their hands and huge cockades in their buttonholes. there was a band on the platform and a huge choir of men who bawled a stentorian-voiced hymn of greeting. "düsseldorf" was the name printed on the station lamps. all the passengers, save the members of the choral society, had left the train, apparently, for every carriage door stood open. i sprang to my feet and let myself go with the stream of men. thus i swept out of the train and right into the midst of the jostling crowd of bandsmen, singers and spectators on the platform. i stood with the new arrivals until the hymn was ended and thus solidly _encadrés_ by the düsseldorfers, we drifted out through the barrier into the station courtyard. there brakes were waiting into which the jolly choristers, guests and hosts, clambered noisily. but i walked straight on into the streets, scarcely able to realize that no one had questioned me, that at last, unhindered, i stood before my goal. düsseldorf is a bright, clean town with a touch of good taste in its public buildings to remind one that this busy, industrial city has found time even while making money to have called into being a school of art of its own. it was a delightful morning with dazzling sunshine and an eager nip in the air that spoke of the swift, deep river that bathes the city walls. i revelled in the clear, cold atmosphere after the foulness of the drinking-den and the stifling heat of the journey. i exulted in the sense of liberty i experienced at having once more eluded the grim clutches of clubfoot. above all, my heart sang within me at the thought of an early meeting with francis. in the mood i was in, i would admit no possibility of disappointment now. francis and i would come together at last. i came upon a public square presently and there facing me was a great, big café, white and new and dazzling, with large plate-glass windows and rows of tables on a covered verandah outside. it was undoubtedly a "_kolossal_" establishment after the best berlin style. so that there might be no mistake about the name it was placarded all over the front of the place in gilt letters three feet high on glass panels--café regina. it was about nine o'clock in the morning and at that early hour i had the place to myself. i felt very small, sitting at a tiny table, with tables on every side of me, stretching away as it were into the _ewigkeit_, in a vast white room with mural paintings of the crassest school of impressionism. i ordered a good, substantial breakfast and whiled away the time while it was coming by glancing at the morning paper which the waiter brought me. my eyes ran down the columns without my heeding what i read, for my thoughts were busy with francis. when did he come to the café? how was he living at düsseldorf? suddenly, i found myself looking at a name i knew ... it was in the personal paragraphs. "lieut.-general count von boden," the paragraph ran, "aide-de-camp to h.m. the emperor, has been placed on the retired list owing to ill-health. general von boden has left for abbazia, where he will take up his permanent residence." there followed the usual biographical notes. of a truth, clubfoot was a power in the land. i ate my breakfast at a table by the open door, and surveyed the busy life of the square where the pigeons circled in the sunshine. a waiter stood on the verandah idly watching the birds as they pecked at the stones. i was struck with the profound melancholy depicted in his face. his cheeks were sunken and he had a pinched look which i had observed in the features of most of the customers at haase's. i set it down to the insufficient feeding which is general among the lower classes in germany to-day. but in addition to this man's wasted appearance, his eyes were hollow, there were deep lines about his mouth and he wore a haggard look that had something strangely pathetic about it. his air of brooding sadness seemed to attract me, and i found my eyes continually wandering back to his face. and then, without warning, through some mysterious whispering of the blood, the truth came to me that this was my brother. i don't know whether it was a passing mood reflected in his face or the shifting lights and shadows in his eyes that lifted the veil. i only know that through those features ravaged by care and suffering and in spite of them i caught a glimpse of the brother i had come to seek. i rattled a spoon on the table and called softly out to the verandah. "_kellner!_" the man turned. i beckoned to him. he came over to my table. he never recognized me, so dull was he with disappointment ... me with my unshaven, unkempt appearance and in my mean german shoddy ... but stood silently, awaiting my bidding. "francis," i said softly ... and i spoke in german ... "francis, don't you know me?" he was magnificent, strong and resourceful in his joy at our meeting as he had been in his months of weary waiting. only his mouth quivered a little as instantly his hands busied themselves with clearing away my breakfast. "jawohl!" he answered in a perfectly emotionless voice. and then he smiled and in a flash the old francis stood before me. "not a word now," he said in german as he cleared away the breakfast. "i am off this afternoon. meet me on the river promenade by the schiller statue at a quarter past two and we'll go for a walk. don't stay here now but come back and lunch in the restaurant ... it's always crowded and pretty safe!" then he called out into the void: "twenty-six wants to pay!" such was my meeting with my brother. chapter xvi a hand-clasp by the rhine that afternoon francis and i walked out along the banks of the swiftly flowing rhine until we were far beyond the city. anxious though i was that he should reveal to me that part of his life which lay hidden beneath those lines of suffering in his face, he made me tell my story first. so i unfolded to him the extraordinary series of adventures that had befallen me since the night i had blundered upon the trail of a great secret in that evil hotel at rotterdam. francis did not once interrupt the flow of my narrative. he listened with the most tense interest but with a growing concern which betrayed itself clearly on his face. at the end of my story, i silently handed to him the half of the stolen letter i had seized from clubfoot at the hotel esplanade. "keep it, francis," i said. "it's safer with a respectable waiter like you than with a hunted outcast like myself!" my brother smiled wanly, but his face assumed the look of grave anxiety with which he had heard my tale. he scrutinized the slips of paper very closely, then tucked them away in a letter-case, which he buttoned up in his hip pocket. "fortune is a strange goddess, des," he said, his weary eyes roving out over the turgid, yellow stream, "and she has been kind to you, though, god knows, you have played a man's part in all this. she has placed in your possession something for which at least five men have died in vain, something that has filled my thoughts, sleeping and waking, for more than half a year. what you have told me throws a good deal of light upon the mystery which i came to this cursed country to elucidate, but it also deepens the darkness which still envelops many points in the affair. "you know there are issues in this game of ours, old man, that stand even higher than the confidence that there has always been between us two. that is why i wrote to you so seldom out in france--i could tell you nothing about my work: that is one of the rules of our game. but now you have broken into the scramble yourself, i feel that we are partners, so i will tell you all i know. "listen, then. some time about the beginning of the year a letter written by a german interned at one of the camps in england was stopped by the camp censor. this german went by the name of schulte: he was arrested at a house in dalston the day after we declared war on germany. there was a good reason for this, for our friend schulte--we don't know his real name--was known to my chief as one of the most daring and successful spies that ever operated in the british isles. "therefore, a sharp eye was kept on his correspondence, and one day this letter was seized. it was, i believe, perfectly harmless to the eye, but the expert to whom it was eventually submitted soon detected a conventional code in the chatty phrases about the daily life of the camp. it proved to be a communication from schulte to a third party relating to a certain letter which, apparently, the writer imagined the third party had a considerable interest in acquiring. for he offered to sell this letter to the third party, mentioning a sum so preposterously high that it attracted the earnest attention of our intelligence people. on half the sum mentioned being paid into the writer's account at a certain bank in london, the letter went on to say, the writer would forward the address at which the object in question would be found." "it was a simple matter to send schulte a letter in return, agreeing to his terms, and to have the payment made, as desired, into the bank he mentioned. his communication in reply to this was duly stopped. the address he gave was that of a house situated on the outskirts of cleves. "we had no idea what this letter was, but its apparent value in the eyes of the shrewd mr. schulte made it highly desirable that we should obtain possession of it without delay. four of us were selected for this dangerous mission of getting into germany and fetching it, by hook or by crook, from the house at cleves where it was deposited. we four were to enter germany by different routes and different means and to converge on cleves (which is quite close to the dutch frontier). "it would take too long to tell you of the very exact organization which we worked out to exclude all risk of failure and the various schemes we evolved for keeping in touch with one another though working separately and in rotation. nor does it matter very much how i got into germany. the fact is that, at my very first attempt to get across the frontier, i realized that some immensely powerful force was working against me. "i managed it, with half a dozen hairbreadth escapes, and i set down my success solely to my knowledge of german and to that old trick of mine of german imitations. but i felt everywhere the influence of this unseen hand, enforcing a meticulous vigilance which it was almost impossible to escape. i was not surprised, therefore, to learn that two of my companions came to grief at the very outset." my brother lowered his voice and looked about him. "do you know what happened to those two gallant fellows?" he said. "jack tracy was found dead on the railway: herbert arbuthnot was discovered hanging in a wood. 'suicide of an unknown individual' was what the german papers called it in each case. but i heard the truth ... never mind how. they were ambushed and slaughtered in cold blood." "and the third man you spoke of?" i asked. "philip brewster? vanished, des ... vanished utterly. i fear he, too, has gone west, poor chap! "of the whole four of us i was the only one to reach our objective. there i drew blank. the letter was not in the hiding-place indicated. i think it never had been or the huns would have got it. i felt all the time that they didn't know exactly where the letter was but that they anticipated our attempt to get it, hence the unceasing vigilance all along the frontier and inside it, too. "they damned nearly got me at cleves: i escaped as by a miracle, and the providential thing for me was that i had never posed as anything but a german, only i varied the type i represented almost from day to day. thus i left no traces behind or they would have had me long since." the sadness in my brother's voice increased and the shadows deepened in his face. "then i tried to get out," he continued. "but it was hopeless from the first. they knew they had one of us left in the net and they closed every outlet. i made two separate attempts to cross the line back into holland, but both failed. the second time i literally had to flee for my life. i went straight to berlin, feeling that a big city, as remote from the frontier as possible, was the only safe hiding-place for me as long as the hue and cry lasted. "i was in a desperate bad way, too, for i had had to abandon the last set of identity papers left to me when i bolted. i landed in berlin with the knowledge that no roof could safely shelter me until i got a fresh lot of papers. "i knew of kore--i had heard of him and his shirkers' and deserters' agency in my travels--and i went straight to him. he sent me to haase's ... this was towards the end of june. it was when i was at haase's that i sent out that message to van urutius that fell into your hands. that happened like this. "i was rather friendly with a chap that frequented haase's, a man employed in the packing department at the metal works at steglitz. he was telling us one night how short-handed they were and what good money packers were earning. i was sick of being cooped up in that stinking cellar, so, more by way of a joke than anything else, i offered to come and lend a hand in the packing department. i thought i might get a chance of escape, as i saw none at haase's. to my surprise, haase, who was sitting at the table, rather fancied the idea and said i could go if i paid him half my wages: i was getting nothing at the beer-cellar. "so i was taken on at steglitz, sleeping at haase's and helping in the beer-cellar in the evenings. one day a package for old van urutius came to me to be made up and suddenly it occurred to me that here was a chance of sending out a message to the outside world. i hoped that old van u., if he tumbled to the 'eichenholz,' would send it to you and that you would pass it on to my chief in london." "then you expected me to come after you?" i said. "no," replied francis promptly, "i did not. but the arrangement was that, if none of us four men had turned up at head-quarters by may th, a fifth man should come in and be at a given rendezvous near the frontier on june th. i went to the place on june th, but he never showed up and, though i waited about for a couple of days, i saw no sign of him. i made my final attempt to get out and it failed, so, when i fled to berlin, i knew that i had cut off all means of communication with home. as a last hope, i dashed off that cipher on the spur of the moment and tucked it into old van u's invoice." "but why 'achilles' with one 'l'?" i asked. "they knew all about kore's agency at head-quarters, but i didn't dare mention kore's name for fear the parcel might be opened. so i purposely spelt 'achilles' with one 'l' to draw attention to the code word, so that they should know where news of me was to be found. it was devilish smart of you to decipher that, des!" francis smiled at me. "i meant to stay quietly in berlin, going daily between haase's and the factory and wait, for a month or two, in case that message got home. but kore began to give trouble. at the beginning of july he came to see me and hinted that the renewal of my _permis de séjour_ would cost money. i paid him, but i realized then that i was absolutely in his power and i had no intention of being blackmailed. so i made use of his cupidity to leave a message for the man who, i hoped, would be coming after me, wrote that line on the wall under the boonekamp poster in that filthy hovel where we slept and came up here after a job i had heard of at the café regina. "and now, des, old man," said my brother, "you know all that i know!" "and clubfoot?" "ah!" said francis, shaking his head, "there i think i recognize the hand that has been against us from the start, though who the man is, and what his power, i, like you, only know from what he told you himself. the germans are clever enough, as we know from their communiqués, to tell the truth when it suits their book. i believe that clubfoot was telling you the truth in what he said about his mission that night at the esplanade. "you and i know now that the kaiser wrote that letter ... we also know that it was addressed to an influential english friend of william ii. you have seen the date ... berlin, july st, ... the eve of the outbreak of the world war. even from this half in my pocket ... and you who have seen both halves of the letter will confirm what i say ... i can imagine what an effect on the international situation this letter would have had if it had reached the man for whom it was destined. but it did not ... why, we don't know. we do know, however, that the emperor is keenly anxious to regain possession of his letter ... you yourself were a witness of his anxiety and you know that he put the matter into the hands of the man clubfoot." "well," i observed thoughtfully, "clubfoot, whoever he is, seems to have made every effort to keep my escapades dark...." "precisely," said francis, "and lucky for you too. otherwise clubfoot would have had you stopped at the frontier. but obviously secrecy is an essential part of his instructions, and he has shown himself willing to risk almost anything rather than call in the aid of the regular police." "but they can always hush these things up!" i objected. "from the public, yes, but not from the court. this letter looks uncommonly like one of william's sudden impulses ... and i fancy anything of the kind would get very little tolerance in germany in war-time." "but who is clubfoot?" i questioned. my brother furrowed his brows anxiously. "des," he said, "i don't know. he is certainly not a regular official of the german intelligence like steinhauer and the others. but i _have_ heard of a clubfooted german on two occasions ... both were dark and mysterious affairs, in both he played a leading role and both ended in the violent death of one of our men." "then tracy and the others...?" i asked. "victims of this man, des, without any doubt," my brother answered. he paused a moment reflectively. "there is a code of honour in our game, old man," he said, "and there are lots of men in the german secret service who live up to it. we give and take plenty of hard knocks in the rough-and-tumble of the chase, but ambush and assassination are barred." he took a deep breath and added: "but the man clubfoot doesn't play the game!" "francis," i said, "i wish i'd known something of this that night i had him at my mercy at the esplanade. he would not have got off with a cracked skull ... with one blow. there would have been another blow for tracy, one for arbuthnot, one for the other man ... until the account was settled and i'd beaten his brains out on the carpet. but if we meet him again, francis, ... as, please god, we shall! ... there will be no code of honour for _him_ ... we'll finish him in cold blood as we'd kill a rat!" my brother thrust out his hand at me and we clasped hands on it. evening was falling and lights were beginning to twinkle from the further bank of the river. we stood for a moment in silence with the river rushing at our feet. then we turned and started to tramp back towards the city. francis linked his arm in mine. "and now, des," he said in his old affectionate way, "tell me some more about monica!" out of that talk germinated in my head the only plan that seemed to offer us a chance of escape. i was quite prepared to believe francis when he declared that the frontier was at present impassable: if the vigilance had been increased before it would be redoubled now that i had again eluded clubfoot. we should, therefore, have to find some cover where we could lie doggo until the excitement passed. you remember that monica told me, the last time i had seen her, that she was shortly going to schloss bellevue, a shooting-box belonging to her husband, to arrange some shoots in connection with the governmental scheme for putting game on the market. monica, you will recollect, had offered to take me with her, and i had fully meant to accompany her but for gerry's unfortunate persistence in the matter of my passport. i now proposed to francis that we should avail ourselves of monica's offer and make for castle bellevue. the place was well suited for our purpose as it lies near cleves, and in its immediate neighbourhood is the reichswald, that great forest which stretches from germany clear across into holland. all through my wanderings, i had kept this forest in the back of my head as a region which must offer facilities for slipping unobserved across the frontier. now i learnt from francis that he had spent months in the vicinity of cleves, and i was not surprised to find, when i outlined this plan to him, that he knew the reichswald pretty well. "it'll be none too easy to get across through the forest," he said doubtfully, "it's very closely patrolled, but i do know of one place where we could lie pretty snug for a day or two waiting for a chance to make a dash. but we have no earthly chance of getting through at present: our clubfooted pal will see to that all right. and i don't much like the idea of going to bellevue either: it will be horribly dangerous for monica!" "i don't think so," i said. "the whole place will be overrun with people, guests, servants, beaters and the like, for these shoots. both you and i know german and we look rough enough: we ought to be able to get an emergency job about the place without embarrassing monica in the least. i don't believe they will ever dream of looking for us so close to this frontier. the only possible trail they can pick up after me in berlin leads to munich. clubfoot is bound to think i am making for the swiss frontier." well, the long and the short of it was that my suggestion was carried, and we resolved to set out for bellevue that very night. my brother declared he would not return to the café: with the present shortage of men, such desertions were by no means uncommon, and if he were to give notice formally it might only lead to embarrassing explanations. so we strolled back to the city in the gathering darkness, bought a map of the rhine and a couple of rucksacks and laid in a small stock of provisions at a great department store, biscuits, chocolates, some hard sausage and two small flasks of rum. then francis took me to a little restaurant where he was known and introduced me to the friendly proprietor, a very jolly old rheinlander, as his brother just out of hospital. i did my country good service, i think, by giving a most harrowing account of the terrible efficiency of the british army on the somme! then we dined and over our meal consulted the map. "by the map," i said, "bellevue should be about fifty miles from here. my idea is that we should walk only at night and lie up during the day, as a room is out of the question for me without any papers. i think we should keep away from the rhine, don't you? as otherwise we shall pass through wesel, which is a fortress, and, consequently, devilish unhealthy for both of us." francis nodded with his mouth full. "at present we can count on about twelve hours of darkness," i continued, "so, leaving a margin for the slight détour we shall make, for rests and for losing the way, i think we ought to be able to reach castle bellevue on the third night from this. if the weather holds up, it won't be too bad, but if it rains, it will be hellish! now, have you any suggestions?" my brother acquiesced, as, indeed, he had in everything i had proposed since we met. poor fellow, he had had a roughish time: he seemed glad to have the direction of affairs taken out of his hands for a bit. at half-past seven that evening, our packs on our backs, we stood on the outskirts of the town where the road branches off to crefeld. in the pocket of the overcoat i had filched from haase's i found an automatic pistol, fully loaded (most of our customers at the beer-cellar went armed). "you've got the document, francis," i said. "you'd better have this, too!" and i passed him the gun. francis waved it aside. "you keep it," he said grimly, "it may serve you instead of a passport." so i slipped the weapon back into my pocket. a cold drop of rain fell upon my face. "oh, hell!" i cried, "it's beginning to rain!" and thus we set out upon our journey. * * * * * it was a nightmare tramp. the rain never ceased. by day we lay in icy misery, chilled to the bone in our sopping clothes, in some dank ditch or wet undergrowth, with aching bones and blistered feet, fearing detection, but fearing, even more, the coming of night and the resumption of our march. yet we stuck to our programme like spartans, and about eight o'clock on the third evening, hobbling painfully along the road that runs from cleves to calcar, we were rewarded by the sight of a long massive building, with turrets at the corners, standing back from the highway behind a tall brick wall. "bellevue!" i said to francis, with pointing finger. we left the road and climbing a wooden palisade, struck out across the fields with the idea of getting into the park from the back. we passed some black and silent farm buildings, went through a gate and into a paddock, on the further side of which ran the wall surrounding the place. somewhere beyond the wall a fire was blazing. we could see the leaping light of the flames and drifting smoke. at the same moment we heard voices, loud voices disputing in german. we crept across the paddock to the wall, i gave francis a back and he hoisted himself to the top and looked over. in a moment he sprang lightly down, a finger to his lips. "soldiers round a fire," he whispered. "there must be troops billeted here. come on ... we'll go further round!" we ran softly along the wall to where it turned to the right and followed it round. presently we came to a small iron gate in the wall. it stood open. we listened. the sound of voices was fainter here. we still saw the reflection of the flames in the sky. otherwise, there was no sign or sound of human life. the gate led into an ornamental garden with the castle at the further end. all the windows were in darkness. we threaded a garden path leading to the house. it brought us in front of a glass door. i turned the handle and it yielded to my grasp. i whispered to francis: "stay where you are! and if you hear me shout, fly for your life!" for, i reflected, the place might be full of troops. if there were any risk it would be better for me to take it since francis, with his identity papers, had a better chance than i of bringing the document into safety. i opened the glass door and found myself in a lobby with a door on the right. i listened again. all was still. i cautiously opened the door and looked in. as i did so the place was suddenly flooded with light and a voice--a voice i had often heard in my dreams--called out imperiously: "stay where you are and put your hands above your head!" clubfoot stood there, a pistol in his great hand pointed at me. "grundt!" i shouted but i did not move. and clubfoot laughed. chapter xvii francis takes up the narrative i saw the lights flash up in the room. i heard desmond cry out: "grundt;" instantly i flung myself flat on my face in the flower bed, lest desmond's shout might have alarmed the soldiers about the fire. but no one came; the gardens remained dark and damp and silent, and i heard no sound from the room in which i knew my brother to be in the clutches of that man. desmond's cry pulled me together. it seemed to arouse me from the lethargy into which i had sunk during all those months of danger and disappointment. it shook me into life. if i was to save him, not a moment was to be lost. clubfoot would act swiftly, i knew. so must i. but first i must find out what the situation was, the meaning of clubfoot's presence in monica's house, of those soldiers in the park. and, above all, was monica herself at the castle? i had noticed a little estaminet place on the road, about a hundred yards before we reached the schloss. i might, at least, be able to pick up something there. accordingly, i stole across the garden, scaled the wall again and reached the road in safety. the estaminet was full of people, brutish-looking peasants swilling neat spirits, cattle drovers and the like. i stood up at the bar and ordered a double noggin of _korn_--a raw spirit made in these parts from potatoes, very potent but at least pure. a man in corduroys and leggings was drinking at the bar, a bluff sort of chap, who readily entered into conversation. a casual question of mine about the game conditions elicited from him the information that he was an under-keeper at the castle. it was a busy time for them, he told me, as four big shoots had been arranged. the first was to take place the next day. there were plenty of birds, and he thought the frau gräfin's guests ought to be satisfied. i asked him if there was a big party staying at the castle. no, he told me, only one gentleman besides the officer billeted there, but a lot of people were coming over for the shoot the next day, the officers from cleves and goch, the chief magistrate from cleves, and a number of farmers from round about. "i expect you will find the soldiers billeted at the castle useful as beaters," i enquired with a purpose. the man assented grudgingly. gamekeepers are first-class grumblers. but the soldiers were not many. for his part he could do without them altogether. they were such terrible poachers to have about the place, he declared. but what they would do for beaters without them, he didn't know ... they were very short of beaters ... that was a fact. "i am staying at cleves," i said, "and i'm out of a job. i am not long from hospital, and they've discharged me from the army. i wouldn't mind earning a few marks as a beater, and i'd like to see the sport. i used to do a bit of shooting myself down on the rhine where i come from." the man shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "that's none of my business, getting the beaters together," he replied. "besides, i shall have the head gamekeeper after me if i go bringing strangers in...." i ordered another drink for both of us, and won the man round without much difficulty. he pouched my five mark note and announced that he would manage it ... the frau gräfin was to see some men who had offered their services as beaters after dinner at the castle that evening. he would take me along. half an hour later i stood, as one of a group of shaggy and bedraggled rustics, in a big stone courtyard outside the main entrance to the castle. the head gamekeeper mustered us with his eye and, bidding us follow him, led the way under a vaulted gateway through a massive door into a small lobby which had apparently been built into the great hall of the castle, for it opened right into it. we found ourselves in a splendid old feudal hall, oak-lined and oak-raftered, with lines of dusty banners just visible in the twilight reigning in the upper part of the vast place. the modern generation had forborne to desecrate the fine old room with electric light, and massive silver candlesticks shed a soft light on the table set at the far end of the hall, where dinner, apparently, was just at an end. three people were sitting at the table, a woman at the head, who, even before i had taken in the details i have just set down, i knew to be monica, though her back was towards me. on one side of the table was a big, heavy man whom i recognized as clubfoot, on the other side a pale slip of a lad in officer's uniform with only one arm ... schmalz, no doubt. a servant said something to monica, who, asking permission of her companions by a gesture, left the table and came across the hall. to my surprise, she was dressed in deepest black with linen cuffs. her face was pale and set, and there was a look of fear and suffering in her eyes that wrung my very heart. i had shuffled into the last place of the row in which the head keeper had ranged us. monica spoke a word or two to each of the men, who shambled off in turn with low obeisances. directly she stopped in front of me i knew she had recognized me--i felt it rather, for she made no sign--though the time i had had in germany had altered my appearance, i dare say, and i must have looked pretty rough with my three days' beard and muddy clothes. "ah!" she said with all her languor _de grande dame_, "you are the man of whom heinrich spoke. you have just come out of hospital, i think?" "beg the frau gräfin's pardon," i mumbled out in the thick patois of the rhine which i had learnt at bonn, "i served with the herr graf in galicia, and i thought maybe the frau gräfin ..." she stopped me with a gesture. "herr doktor!" she called to the dinner-table. by jove! this girl had grit: her pluck was splendid. clubfoot came stumping over, all smiles after his food and smoking a long cigar that smelt delicious. "frau gräfin?" he queried, glancing at me. "this is a man who served under my husband in galicia. he is ill and out of work, and wishes me to help him. i should wish, therefore, to see him in my sitting-room, if you will allow me...." "but, frau gräfin, most certainly. there surely was no need ..." "johann!" monica called the servant i had seen before, "take this man into the sitting-room!" the servant led the way across the hall into a snugly furnished library with a dainty writing-desk and pretty chintz curtains. monica followed and sat down at the desk. "now tell me what you wish to say ..." she began in german as the servant left the room, but almost as soon as he had gone she was on her feet, clasping my hands. "francis!" she whispered in english in a great sob, "oh, francis! what have they done to you to make you look like that?" i gripped her wrist tightly. "frau gräfin," i said in german, still in that hideous patois, "you must be calm." and i whispered in english in her ear: "monica, be brave! and talk german whatever you do." she regained her self-possession at once. "i understand," she answered, sitting down at her desk again; "it is more prudent." and for the rest of the time we spoke in german. "desmond?" i asked. "locked up in grundt's bedroom," she replied. "i met them pushing him along the corridor--it was horrible! grundt won't let him out of his sight. oh, it was madness to have come. if only i could have warned you!" "what is grundt doing here?" i asked. "and those soldiers and that officer?" "my dear," she answered, and her eyes flashed mischief in a sudden change of mood, "i'm in preventive arrest!" "but, monica...." "listen! gerry and that spying man-servant of his made trouble. when des went off that evening and didn't come back, gerry insisted that we should notify the police. he made an awful scene, then the valet chipped in, and from what he said i knew he meant mischief. i didn't dare trust gerry with the truth, so i let him send a note to the police. they came round and asked a lot of questions and went away again, so i thought we'd heard the last of it and came up here. gerry wouldn't come. he's gone off to baden-baden on some new cure. "about a week ago the chief magistrate at cleves, who is an old friend of ours, motored over, and after a lot of talk, blurted out that i was to consider myself under arrest, and that an officer and a detachment of men from goch were coming over to guard the house. the magistrate man would have told me anything i wanted to know, but he knew nothing: he simply carried out his orders. then the lieutenant and his men arrived, and since that time i have been a prisoner in the house and grounds. i was terribly scared about des until grundt arrived suddenly, two nights ago, and i saw at once by his face that des was still at large. but, francis, that clubfoot man came here to catch des ... and he has simply walked into the trap." "and desmond?" i asked. "what is clubfoot going to do about him?" "he was with des for about an hour in his room, and i heard him tell schmalz he would 'try again' after dinner. oh, francis, i am frightened of that man ... not a word has he said to me about my knowing desmond--not a word about my harbouring des in berlin ... but he knows everything, and he watches me the whole time." i glanced through the open door into the hall. the candles still burnt on the dinner-table, where clubfoot and the officer sat conversing in low tones. "i have been here long enough," i said. "but before i go, i want you to answer one or two questions, monica. will you?" "yes, francis," she said, raising her eyes to mine. "what time is the shoot to-morrow?" "at ten o'clock." "are grundt and schmalz going?" "yes." "you too?" "yes." "could you get away back to the house by . ?" "not alone. one of them is always with me out of doors." "could you meet me alone anywhere outside at that time?" "there is a quarry outside a village called quellenburg ... it is on the edge of our preserves ... just off the road. we ought to be as far as that by twelve. if it is necessary, i will try and give them the slip and hide in one of the caves there. then, when you came, if you whistled i could come out." "good. that will do excellently. we will arrange it so. now, another question ... how many soldiers have you here?" "sixteen." "are they all going beating?" "oh, no! only ten of them. the other six and the sergeant remain behind." "have you a car here?" "no, but grundt has one." "how many servants will there be in the house to-morrow?" "only johann, the butler, and the maids ... a woman cook and two girls." "can you contrive to have johann out of the house between and : to-morrow morning?" "yes, i can send him to cleves with a note." "the maids too?" "yes, the maids too." "good. now will you do one thing more--the hardest of all? i want you to send a message to desmond. can you arrange it?" "tell me what your message is, and i may be able to answer you." "i want you to tell him that he must at all costs contrive to keep grundt from going to that shoot to-morrow ... at any rate between ten and twelve. he must manage to let grundt believe that he is going to tell him where grundt may find what he is after ... but he must keep him in suspense during those hours." "and after?" "there will be no after," i said. "i will see that des gets your message," monica replied, "for i will take it myself." "no, monica," i said, "i don't want..." "francis," ...she spoke almost in a whisper ... "my life in this country is over," ... and she touched her widow's weeds.... "karl was killed at predeal three weeks ago.... you know as well as i do that i am involved in this affair as much as you and des ... and i will share the risk if only you will take me away with you ... that is if you ..." she faltered. i heard the chairs scrape in the corner of the hall where the dinner-party was breaking up. "the frau gräfin has only to command," i said. "the frau gräfin knows i have been waiting for years...." clubfoot was crossing towards the open door. "... i never expected to find the frau gräfin so gracious.... i had never hoped that the frau gräfin would be willing to do so much for me ... the frau gräfin has made me very happy." clubfoot stood on the threshold and listened to my halting speech. "you can bring your things in when you come to-morrow ..." monica said. "the keeper will tell you what time you must be here." then she dismissed me, but as i went i heard her say: "herr doktor! can i have a word with you?" chapter xviii i go on with the story i was in the billiard-room of the castle, a dusty place, obviously little used, for it smelt of damp. a fire was burning in the grate, however, and on a table in the corner, which was littered with papers, stood a dispatch box. clubfoot wore a dinner-coat and, as he laughed, his white expanse of shirt-front heaved to the shaking of his deep chest. for a moment, however, i had little thought of him or the ugly-looking browning he held in his fist. my ears were strained for any sound that might betray francis' presence in the garden. but all remained silent as the grave. clubfoot, still chuckling audibly, walked over to me. i thought he was going to shoot me, he came so straight and so fast, but it was only to get behind me and shut the door, driving me, as he did so, farther into the room. the door by which he had entered stood open. without taking his eyes off me or deflecting his weapon from its aim, he called out: "schmalz!" a light step resounded, and the one-armed lieutenant tripped into the room. when he saw me, he stopped dead. then he softly began to circle round me with a mincing step, murmuring to himself: "so! so!" "good evening, dr. semlin!" he said in english. "say, i'm mighty glad to see you! well, okewood, dear old boy, here we are again. what? herr julius zimmermann ..." and he broke into german, "_es freut mich!_" i could have killed him where he stood, maimed though he was, for his fluency in the american and english idiom alone. "search him, schmalz!" commanded clubfoot curtly. schmalz ran the fingers of his one arm over my pockets, flinging my portfolio on the billiard-table towards clubfoot, and the other articles as they came to light ... my pistol, watch, cigarette-case and so forth ... on to a leather lounge against the wall. in his search he brushed me with his severed stump ... ugh, it was horrible! clubfoot had snatched up the portfolio and hastily examined it. he shook the contents out on the billiard-table and examined them carefully. "not there!" he said. "run him upstairs, and we'll strip him," he ordered; "and let not our clever young friend forget that i'm behind him with my little toy!" schmalz gripped me by the collar, spitefully digging his knuckles into my neck, and propelled me out of the room ... almost into the arms of monica. she screamed and, turning, fled away down the passage. clubfoot laughed noisily, but i reflected mournfully that in my present sorry plight, unwashed and unshaven, in filthy clothes, haled along like a common pickpocket, even my own mother would not have recognized me. there was a degrading scene in the bedroom to which they dragged me, where the two men stripped me to the skin and pawed over every single article of clothing i possessed. physically and mentally, i cowered in my nudity before the unwholesome gaze of these two sinister cripples. of all my experiences in germany, i still look back upon that as almost my worst ordeal. of course, they found nothing, search as they might, and presently they flung my clothes back at me and bade me get dressed again, "for you and i, young man," said clubfoot, with his glinting smile, "have got to have a little talk together!" when i was once more clothed-- "you can leave us, schmalz!" commanded clubfoot, "and send up the sergeant when i ring: he shall look after this tricky englishman whilst we are at dinner with our charming hostess." schmalz went out and left us alone. clubfoot lighted a cigar. he smoked in silence for a few minutes. i said nothing, for really there was nothing for me to say. they hadn't got their precious document, and it was not likely they would ever recover it now. i feared greatly that francis in his loyalty might make an attempt to rescue me, but i hoped, whatever he did, he would think first of putting the document in a place of safety. i was more or less resigned to my fate. i was in their hands properly now, and whether they got the document or not, my doom was sealed. "i will pay you the compliment of saying, my dear captain okewood," clubfoot remarked in that urbane voice of his which always made my blood run cold, "that never before in my career have i devoted so much thought to any single individual, in the different cases i have handled, as i have to you. as an individual, you are a paltry thing: it is rather your remarkable good fortune that interests me as a philosopher of sorts.... i assure you it will cause me serious concern to be the instrument of severing your really extraordinary strain of good luck. i don't mind telling you, as man to man, that i have not yet entirely decided in my mind what to do with you now that i've got you!" i shrugged my shoulders. "you've got me, certainly," i replied, "but you would vastly prefer to have what i have not got." "let us not forget to be always content with small mercies," answered the other, smiling with a gleam of his golden teeth,... "that is a favourite maxim of mine. as you truly remark, i would certainly prefer the ... the jewel to the infinitely less precious and ... interesting ... casket. but what i have, i hold. and i have you ... and your accomplice as well." "i have no accomplice," i denied stoutly. "surely you forget our gracious hostess, our most charming countess? was it not thanks to the interest she deigned to take in your safety that i came here? had it not been for that circumstance, i should scarcely have ventured to intrude upon her widowhood...." "her widowhood?" i exclaimed. clubfoot smiled again. "you cannot have followed the newspapers in your ... retreat, my dear captain okewood," he replied, "or surely you would have read the afflicting intelligence that count rachwitz, a.d.c. to field-marshal von mackensen, was killed by a shell that fell into the brigade head-quarters where he was lunching at predeal. ah, yes," he sighed, "our beautiful countess is now a widow, alone ..." he paused, then added, "... and unprotected!" i understood his allusion and went cold with fear. why, monica was involved in this affair as much as i. surely they wouldn't dare to touch her.... clubfoot leaned forward and tapped me on the knee. "you will be sensible, okewood," he said confidentially. "you've lost. you can't save yourself. your life was forfeit from the moment you crossed the threshold of his majesty's private apartments ... but you can save _her_." i shook his huge hand off my leg. "you won't bluff me," i answered roughly. "you daren't touch the countess rachwitz, an american lady, niece of an american ambassador, married into one of your leading families ... no, herr doktor, you must try something else." "do you know why schmalz is here?" he asked patiently, "and those soldiers?... you must have passed through the cordon to come here. your little friend is in preventive arrest. she would be in gaol (she doesn't know it), but that his majesty was unwilling to put this affront on the rachwitz family in their great affliction." "the countess rachwitz has nothing whatever to do with me," ... rather a foolish lie, i thought to myself too late, as i was in her house. but clubfoot remained quite unperturbed. "i shall take you into my confidence, my dear sir," he said, "to show that i know you to be stating an untruth. the countess, on the contrary, is, to use a vulgar phrase, in it up to the neck. thanks to the amazing imbecility of the berlin police, i was not informed of your brief stay at the bendler-strasse, even after they were called in by the invalid american gentleman in the matter of your hasty flight when asked to have your passport put in order. but we are systematic, we germans; we are painstaking; and i set about going through every possible place that might afford you shelter. "in the course of my investigations i came across our mutual friend, herr kore. a perusal of his very business-like ledgers showed me that on the day following your disappearance from the esplanade he had received , marks from a certain e. ... all names in his books were in cipher. under the influence of my winning personality, herr kore told me all he knew; i pursued my investigations and then discovered what the asinine police had omitted to tell me, namely, that on the date in question an alleged american had made a hurried flight from the countess rachwitz's apartment in the bendler-strasse. an admirable fellow ... max or otto, or some name like that ... anyhow, he was valet to madame's invalid brother, was able to fill in all the lacunae, and i was thus enabled to draw up a very strong case against your well-meaning but singularly ill-advised hostess. by this time the lady had left berlin for this charming old-world seat, and i promptly took measures to have her placed in preventive arrest whilst i tracked _you_ down. "you got away again. even jupiter nods, you know, my dear captain okewood, and i frankly admit i overlooked the silver badge which you had in your possession. i must compliment you also on your adroitness in leaving us that false trail to munich. it took me in to the extent that i dispatched an emissary to hunt you down in that delightful capital, but, for myself, i have a certain _flair_ in these matters, and i thought you would sooner or later come to bellevue. you will admit that i showed some perspicacity?" "you're wasting time with all this talk," i said sullenly. clubfoot raised a hand deprecatingly. "i take a pride in my work," he observed half-apologetically. then he added: "you must not forget that your pretty countess is not an american. she is a german. she is also a widow. you may not know the relations that existed between her and her late husband, but they were not, i assure you, of such warmth that the rachwitz family would unduly mourn her loss. do you suppose we care a fig for all the american ambassadors that ever left the states? my dear sir, i observe that you are still lamentably ignorant of the revolution that war brings into international relations. in war, where the national interest is concerned, the individual is nothing. if he or she must be removed, puff! you snuff the offender out. afterwards you can always pay or apologize, or do what is required." i listened in silence; i had no defence to offer in face of this deadly logic, the logic of the stronger man. clubfoot produced a paper from his pocket. "read that!" he said, tossing it over to me. "it is the summons for the countess rachwitz to appear before a court-martial. date blank, you see. you needn't tear it up ... i've got several spare blank forms ... one for you, too!" i felt my courage ebbing and my heart turning to water. i handed him back his paper in silence. the booming of a dinner gong suddenly swelled into the stillness of the room. clubfoot rose and rang the bell. "here's my offer, okewood!" he said. "you shall restore that letter to me in its integrity, and the countess rachwitz shall go free provided she leaves this country and does not return. that's my last word! take the night to sleep on it! i shall come for my answer in the morning." a sergeant in field-grey with a rifle and fixed bayonet stood in the doorway. "i make you responsible for this man, sergeant," said clubfoot, "until i return in an hour or so. food will be sent up for him and you will personally assure yourself that no message is conveyed to him by that or any other means." * * * * * i had washed, i had brushed my clothes, i had dined, and i sat in silence by the table, in the most utter dejection of spirit, i think, into which it is possible for a man to fall. i was so totally crushed by the disappointment of the evening that i don't think i pondered much about my own fate at all. but my thoughts were busy with monica. my life was my own, and i knew i had a lien on my brother's if thereby our mission might be carried through to the end. but had i the right to sacrifice monica? and then the unexpected happened. the door opened, and she came in, schmalz behind her. he dismissed the sergeant with a word of caution to see that the sentries round the house were vigilant, and followed the man out, leaving monica and me alone. the girl stopped the torrent of self-reproach that rose to my lips with a pretty gesture. she was pale, but she held her head as high as ever. "schmalz has given me five minutes alone with you, des," she said, "to plead with you for my life, that you may betray your trust. no, don't speak ... there is no time to waste in words. i have a message for you from francis.... yes, i have seen him here, this very night.... he says you must contrive at all costs to keep grundt from going to the shoot at ten o'clock to-morrow, and to detain him with you from ten to twelve. that is all i know about it.... but francis has planned something, and you and i have got to trust him. now, listen ... i shall tell clubfoot i have pleaded with you and that you show signs of weakening. say nothing to-night, temporize with him when he comes for his answer in the morning, and then send for him at a quarter to ten, when he will be leaving the house with the others. the rest i leave to you. good night, des, and cheer up!"... "but, monica," i cried, "what about you?" she reddened deliciously under her pallor. "des," she replied happily, "we are allies now, we three. if all goes well, i'm coming with you and francis!" with that she was gone. a few minutes after, a couple of soldiers arrived with schmalz and took me downstairs to a dark cellar in the basement, where i was locked in for the night. * * * * * i was dreaming of the front ... again i sniffed the old familiar smells, the scent of fresh earth, the fetid odour of death; again i heard outside the trench the faint rattle of tools, the low whispers of our wiring party; again i saw the very lights soaring skyward and revealing the desolation of the battlefield in their glare. someone was shaking me by the shoulder. it was my servant come to wake me.... i must have fallen asleep. was it stand-to so soon? i sat up and rubbed my eyes and awoke to the anguish of another day. the sergeant stood at the cellar door, framed in the bright morning light. "you are to come upstairs!" he said. he took me to the billiard-room, where clubfoot, sleek and washed and shaved, sat at the writing-table in the sunshine, opening letters and sipping coffee. a clock on a bracket above his head pointed to eight. "you wish to speak to me, i believe," he said carelessly, running his eye over a letter in his hand. "you must give me a little more time, herr doktor," i said. "i was worn out last night and i could not look at things in their proper light. if you could spare me a few hours more...." i put a touch of pleading into my voice, which struck him at once. "i am not unreasonable, my dear captain okewood," he replied, "but you will understand that i am not to be trifled with, so i give you fair warning. i will give you until...." "it is eight o'clock now," i interrupted. "i tell you what, give me until ten. will that do?" clubfoot nodded assent. "take this man upstairs to my bedroom," he ordered the sergeant. "stay with him while he has his breakfast, and bring him back here at ten o'clock. and tell schmidt to leave my car at the door: he needn't wait, as he is to beat: i will drive myself to the shoot." i don't really remember what happened after that. i swallowed some breakfast, but i had no idea what i was eating, and the sergeant, who was a model of prussian discipline, declined with a surly frown to enter into conversation with me. my morale was very low: when i look back upon that morning i think i must have been pretty near the breaking-point. as i sat and waited i heard the house in a turmoil of preparation for the shoot. there was the sound of voices, of heavy boots in the hall, of wheels and horses in the yard without. then the noises died away and all was still. shortly afterwards, the clock pointing to ten, the sergeant escorted me downstairs again to the billiard-room. grundt was still sitting there. a hot wave of anger drove the blood into my cheeks as i looked at him, fat and soft and so triumphant at his victory. the sight of him, however, gave me the tonic i needed. my nerve was shaken badly, but i was determined it must answer to this last strain, to play this uncouth fish for two hours. after that ... if nothing happened ... clubfoot sent the sergeant away. "i can look after him myself now," he said, in a blithe tone that betrayed his conviction of success. so the sergeant saluted and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the passages like the leaden feet of destiny, relentless, inexorable. chapter xix we have a reckoning with clubfoot i looked at clubfoot. i must play him with caution, with method, too. only by acting on a most exact system could i hope to hold him in that room for two hours. i had four points to argue with him and i would devote half an hour to each of them by the clock on the bracket above his head. if only i could keep him confident in his victory, i might hope to prevent him finding out that i was playing with him ... but two hours is a long time ... it would be a near thing. one point in my favour ... my manner gave him the assurance of success from the start. there was nothing counterfeit about my tone of humility, for in truth i was very near despair. i was making this last effort at the bidding of my brother, but i felt it to be a forlorn hope: in my heart of hearts i knew i was down and out. so i went straight to the point and told clubfoot that i was beaten, that he should have his paper. but there were difficulties about the execution of both sides of the bargain. we had deceived one another. what mutual guarantees could we exchange that would give each of us the assurance of fair play? clubfoot settled this point in characteristic fashion. he protested his good faith elaborately, but the gist of his remarks was that he held the cards and that, consequently, it was he who must be trusted, whilst i furnished the guarantee. whilst we were discussing this point the clock chimed the half-hour. i switched the conversation to monica. i was not at all concerned about myself, i said, but i must feel sure in my mind that no ill should befall her. to this clubfoot replied that i might set my mind at ease: the moment the document was in his hands he would give orders for her release: i should be there and might see it done myself. what guarantee was there, i asked, that she would not be detained before she reached the frontier? clubfoot was getting a little restless. with his eye on the clock but in a placid voice he again protested that his word was the sole guarantee he could offer. we discussed this too. my manner was earnest and nervous, i know, and i think he enjoyed playing with me. i told him frankly that his reputation belied his protestations of good faith. at this he laughed and cynically admitted that this was quite possibly the case. "nevertheless, it is i who give the guarantee," he said in a tone that brooked no contradiction. the clock struck eleven. one hour to go! "come, okewood," he added good-naturedly, "we waste time. up to this you've had all the sport, you know. you wouldn't have me miss the first day's shooting i've had this year. where have you got this letter of ours?" he was an extraordinary man. to hear him address me, you would never have supposed that he was sending me to my death. he appeared to have forgotten this detail. it meant so little to him that he probably had. i turned to my third point. he made things very hard for me, i said, but i was the vanquished and must give way. the trouble was that the document was still in two portions and neither half was here. "you indicate where the halves are hidden," said clubfoot promptly. "i will accompany you to the hiding-places and you will hand them to me." "but they are nowhere near here," i replied. "then where are they?" answered clubfoot impatiently. "come, i am waiting and it's getting late!" "it will take several days to recover both portions," i muttered unwillingly. "that does not matter," retorted the other; "there is no particular hurry ... now!" and he smiled grimly. i dared not raise my eyes to the clock, for i felt the german's gaze on me. an intuitive instinct told me that his suspicions had been awakened by my reluctance. i was very nearly at the end of my resources. would the clock never strike? "i tell you frankly, herr doktor," i said in a voice that trembled with anxiety, "i cannot leave the countess unprotected whilst we travel together to the hiding-places of the document. i only feel sure of her safety whilst she is near me...." clubfoot bent his brows at me. "what do you suggest then?" he said very sternly. "you go and recover the two halves at the places i indicate," i stammered out, "and ... and ..." a faint whirr and the silver chime rang out twice. half an hour more! how still the house was! i could hear the clock ticking--no, that thudding must be my heart. my wits failed me, my mind had become a blank, my throat was dry with fear. "i've wasted an hour and a half over you, young man," said clubfoot suddenly, "and it's time that this conversation was brought to a close. i warn you again that i am not to be trifled with. the situation is perfectly clear: it rests with you whether the countess rachwitz goes free or is court-martialled this afternoon at cleves and shot this evening. your suggestion is absurd. i'll be reasonable with you. we will both stay here. i will wire for the two portions of the letter to be fetched at the places you indicate, and as soon as i hold the entire letter in my hands the countess will be driven to the frontier. i will allow her butler here to accompany her and he can return and assure you that she is in safety." he stretched out his hand and pulled a block of telegraph forms towards him. "where shall we find the two halves?" he said. "one is in holland," i murmured. he looked up quickly. "if you dare to play me false...." he broke off when he saw my face. the room was going round with me. my hands felt cold as ice. i was struggling for the mastery over myself, but i felt my body swaying. "ah!" exclaimed clubfoot musingly, "that would be semlin's half.... i might have known.... well, never mind, schmalz can take my car and fetch it. he can be back by to-morrow. where is he to go?" "the other half is in berlin," i said desperately. my voice sounded to me like a third person speaking. "that's simpler," replied clubfoot. "ten minutes to twelve now ... if i wire at once, that half should be here by midnight.... i'll get the message off immediately...." he looked up at me, pencil in hand. it was the end. i had kept faith with francis to the limit of my powers, but now my resistance was broken. he had failed me ... not me, but monica, rather.... i could not save her now. like some nightmare film, the crowded hours of the past few weeks flashed past my eyes, a jostling procession of figures--semlin with his blue lips and livid face, schratt with her bejewelled hands, the jew kore, haase with his bullet head, francis, sadly musing on the café verandah ... and monica, all in white, as i saw her that night at the esplanade ... my thoughts always came back to her, a white and pitiful figure in some dusty courtyard at lamplight facing a row of levelled rifles.... "i am waiting!" clubfoot's voice broke stridently upon the silence. should i tell him the truth now? it was three minutes to the hour. "come! the two addresses!" i would keep faith to the last. "herr doktor!" i faltered. he dashed the pencil down on the table and sprang to his feet. he caught me by the lapels of my coat and shook me in an iron grip. "the addresses, you dog!" he said. the clock whirred faintly. there was a knock at the door. "come in!" roared clubfoot and resumed his seat. the clock was chiming twelve. an officer stepped in briskly and saluted. it was francis!... francis, freshly shaved, his moustache neatly trimmed, a monocle in his eye, in a beautifully waisted grey military overcoat, one white-gloved hand raised in salute to his helmet. "hauptmann von salzmann!" ... he introduced himself, clicking his heels and bowing to clubfoot, who glared at him, frowning at the interruption. he spoke with the clipped, mincing utterance of the typical prussian officer. "i am looking for herr leutnant schmalz," he said. "he is not in," answered clubfoot in a surly voice. "he is out and i am busy ... i do not wish to be disturbed." "as schmalz is out," the officer returned suavely, advancing to the desk, "i must trouble you for an instant, i fear. i have been sent over from goch to inspect the guard here. but i find no guard ... there is not a man in the place." clubfoot angrily heaved his unwieldy bulk from his chair. "gott im himmel!" he cried savagely. "it is incredible that i can never be left in peace. what the devil has the guard got to do with me? will you understand that i have nothing to do with the guard! there is a sergeant somewhere ... curse him for a lazy scoundrel ... i'll ring ..." he never finished the sentence. as he turned his back on my brother to reach the bell in the wall, francis sprang on him from behind, seizing his bull neck in an iron grip and driving his knee at the same moment into that vast expanse of back. the huge german, taken by surprise, crashed over backwards, my brother on top of him. it was so quickly done that, for the instant, i was dumbfounded. "quick, des, the door!" my brother gasped. "lock the door!" the big german was roaring like a bull and plunging wildly under my brother's fingers, his clubfoot beating a thunderous tattoo on the parquet floor. in his fall clubfoot's left arm had been bent under him and was now pinioned to the ground by his great weight. with his free right arm he strove fiercely to force off my brother's fingers as francis fought to get a grip on the man's throat and choke him into silence. i darted to the door. the key was on the inside and i turned it in a trice. as i turned to go to my brother's help my eye caught sight of the butt of my pistol lying where schmalz had thrown it the evening before under my overcoat on the leather lounge. i snatched up the weapon and dropped by my brother's side, crushing clubfoot's right arm to the ground. i thrust the pistol in his face. "stop that noise!" i commanded. the german obeyed. "better search him, francis," i said to my brother. "he probably has a browning on him somewhere." francis went through the man's pockets, reaching up and putting each article as it came to light on the desk above him. from an inner breast pocket he extracted the browning. he glanced at it: the magazine was full with a cartridge in the breech. "hadn't we better truss him up?" francis said to me. "no," i said. i was still kneeling on the german's arm. he seemed exhausted. his head had fallen back upon the ground. "let me up, curse you!" he choked. "no!" i said again and francis turned and looked at me. each of us knew what was in the other's mind, my brother and i. we were thinking of a hand-clasp we had exchanged on the banks of the rhine. i was about to speak but francis checked me. he was trembling all over. i could feel his elbow quiver where it touched mine. "no, des, please ..." he pleaded, "let me ... this is my show...." then, in a voice that vibrated with suppressed passion, he spoke swiftly to clubfoot. "take a good look at me, grundt," he said sternly. "you don't know me, do you? i am francis okewood, brother of the man who has brought you to your fall. you don't know me, but you knew some of my friends, i think. jack tracy? do you remember him? and herbert arbuthnot? ah, you knew him, too. and philip brewster? you remember him as well, do you? no need to ask you what happened to poor philip!" the man on the floor answered nothing, but i saw the colour very slowly fade from his cheeks. my brother spoke again. "there were four of us after that letter, as you knew, grundt, and three of us are dead. but you never got me. i was the fourth man, the unknown quantity in all your elaborate calculations ... and it seems to me i spoiled your reckoning ... i and this brother of mine ... an amateur at the game, grundt!" still clubfoot was silent, but i noticed a bead of perspiration tremble on his forehead, then trickle down his ashen cheeks and drop splashing to the floor. francis continued in the same deep, relentless voice. "i never thought i should have to soil my hands by ridding the world of a man like you, grundt, but it has come to it and you have to die. i'd have killed you in hot blood when i first came in but for jack and herbert and the others ... for their sake you had to know who is your executioner." my brother raised the pistol. as he did so the man on the floor, by a tremendous effort of strength, rose erect to his knees, flinging me headlong. then there was a hot burst of flame close to my cheek as i lay on the floor, a deafening report, a thud and a sickening gurgle. something twitched a little on the ground and then lay still. we rose to our feet together. "des," said my brother unsteadily, "it seems rather like murder." "no, francis," i whispered back, "it was justice!" chapter xx charlemagne's ride the hands of the clock pointed to a quarter past twelve. funny, how my eyes kept coming back to that clock! there was a smell of warm gunpowder in the room, and the autumn sunshine, struggling feebly through the window, caught the blue edges of a little haze of smoke that hung lazily in the air by the desk in the corner. how close the room was! and how that clock face seemed to stare at me! i felt very sick.... lord! what a draught! a gust of icy air was raging in my face. the room was still swaying to and fro.... i was in the front seat of a car beside francis, who was driving. we were fairly flying along a broad and empty road, the tall poplars with which it was lined scudding away into the vanishing landscape as we whizzed by. the surface was terrible, and the car pitched this way and that as we tore along. but francis had her well in hand. he sat at the wheel, very cool and deliberate and very grave, still in his officer's uniform, and his eyes had a cold glint that told me he was keyed up to top pitch. we slackened speed a fraction to negotiate a turn off to the right down a side road. we seemed to take that corner on two wheels. a thin church spire protruded from the trees in the centre of the group of houses which we were approaching so furiously. the village was all but deserted: everybody seemed to be indoors at their midday meal, but francis slowed down and ran along the dirty street at a demure pace. the village passed, he jammed down the accelerator and once more the car sprang forward. the country was flat as a pancake, but presently the fields fell away a bit from the road with boulders and patches of gorse here and there. the next moment we were slackening speed. we drew up by a rough track which led off the road and vanished into a tangle of stunted trees and scrub growing across the yellow face of a sand-pit. francis motioned me to get out, and then sprang to the ground himself, leaving the engine throbbing. his face was grey and set. "stay here!" he whispered to me. "you've got your pistol? good. if anybody attempts to interfere with you, shoot!" he dashed into the tangle and was swallowed up. i heard a whistle, and a whistle in answer, and a minute later he appeared again helping monica through the thick undergrowth. monica looked as pretty as a picture in her dark green shooting suit and her muffler. she was as excited as a child at its first play. "a car!" she exclaimed. "oh, francis, i'll sit beside you!" my brother glanced at his watch. "twenty to one!" he murmured. he had a hunted look on his face. monica saw it and it sobered her. they got up in front, and i sat in the body of the car. "hang on to that!" said francis, handing me over a leather case. i recognized it at a glance. it was clubfoot's dispatch-box. francis was thorough in everything. once more we dashed out along the desolate country roads. we saw hardly a soul. houses were few and far between and, save for an occasional greybeard hoeing in the wet fields or an old woman hobbling along the road, the countryside seemed dead. in the cold air the engine ran splendidly, and francis got every ounce of horse-power out of it. on we rushed, the wind in our ears, the cold air in our faces, until we found ourselves racing along an avenue of old trees that led straight as an arrow right into the heart of the forest. it was as silent as the grave: the air was dank and chill and the trees dripped sorrowfully into the brimming ruts of the road. we whizzed past many tracks leading into the depths of the forest, but it was not until the car had eaten up some five kilometres of the main road that francis slowed to a halt. he consulted a map he pulled from his pocket, then glanced at his watch with puckered brow. "i had hoped to take the car into the forest," he said, "but the roads are so soft we shan't get a yard. still we can but try." we went forward again, very slowly, to where a track ran off to the left. it was badly ploughed up, and the ruts were fully a foot deep. monica and i got out to lighten the car, and francis ran her in. but he hadn't gone five yards before the car was bogged up to the axles. "we'll have to leave it," he said, jumping out. "it's ten minutes to two ... we haven't a second to lose." he pulled a cloth cap from the pocket of his military overcoat, then stripped off the coat, showing his ordinary clothes underneath, and very shiny black field-boots up to his knees. he put his helmet in the overcoat and made a roll of it, tucking it under his arm, and then donned his cap. "now," he said, "we'll have to run for it, monica, i'm afraid: we must reach our cover while the light lasts or i shan't be able to find it and it will be dark in these woods in about two hours from now. are you ready?" we struck off the track into the forest. there was not much undergrowth, and the trees were not planted very close, so our way was not impeded. we jogged on over a carpet of wet leaves, stumbling over the roots of the trees, tearing our clothes on the brambles, bringing down showers of raindrops from the branches of pine or fir we brushed on our headlong course. now a squirrel bolted up his tree, now a rabbit frisked back into his hole, now a soft-eyed deer crashed away into the bushes on our approach. the place was so still that it gave me confidence. there was not a trace of man now that we were away from the marks of his carts on the tracks, and i began to feel, in the presence of the stately, silent trees, that at last i was safe from the menace that had hung over me for so long. we rested frequently, breathless and panting, a hand to the side. monica was a marvel of endurance. her boots were sopping, her skirt wet to the waist, her face was scratched, and her hair was coming down, but she never complained. francis was seemingly tireless and was always the one to lead the way when we started afresh. it was heavy going, for at every step our feet sank deep in the leaves. the forest was undulating with deep hollows and steep banks, which tried us a good deal. it soon became evident that we could not keep up the pace. monica was tiring visibly, and i had had about enough; francis, too, seemed done up. we slackened to a walk. we were toiling painfully up on of these steep banks when francis, who was leading, held up his hand. "charlemagne's ride!" he whispered as we came up. we looked down from the top of the bank and saw below us a broad forest glade, canopied by the thick branches of the ancient trees that met overhead, and leading up a slope, narrowing as it went, to a path that lost itself among the shadows that were falling fast upon the forest. francis clambered down the bank and we followed. twilight reigned below in the glade under the lofty roof of branches and our feet rustled softly as we trod the leaves underfoot. it was a ghostly place, and monica clutched my arm as we went quickly after francis, who, striding rapidly ahead, threatened to be swallowed up in the shadows of the autumn evening. he led us up the slope and along the narrow path. a path struck off it, and he took it. it led us into a thicker part of the forest than we had yet struck, where there were great boulders protruding from the dripping bushes, and brambles grew so thick that in places they obscured the track. the forest sloped up again, and in front of us was a steep bank, its sides dotted with great rocks and a tangle of brambles and undergrowth. francis stooped between two boulders at the foot of the slope, then turning and beckoning us to follow, disappeared. monica went in after him, and i came last. we were in a kind of narrow entrance, scooped out of the earth between the rocks, and it led down to a broad chamber, which had apparently been dug beneath some of the boulders, for, stretching out my hand, i found the roof was rock and damp to the touch. francis and monica were standing in this chamber as i came down. directly i entered i knew why they stood so still. a glimmer of light came from the farther end of the cave and a strange sound, a sort of strangled sobbing, reached our ears. i crept forward in the dark in the direction of the light. my outstretched hands came upon a low opening. i stooped and, crawling round a rock, saw another chamber illuminated by a guttering candle stuck by its wax to the earthen wall. on the floor a man was lying, sobbing as though his heart would break. he was wearing some kind of military great-coat with a yellow stripe running down the back. "pst!" i called to him, drawing my pistol from my pocket. as i did so, francis behind me touched my arm to let me know he was there. "pst!" i called again louder. the man swung round on to his knees with a sudden, frightened spring. when he saw my pistol, he jerked his hands above his head. dirty and unshaven, with the tears all wet on his face, he looked a woe-begone and tragic figure. "kamerad! kamerad!" he muttered stupidly at me. "napoo! kaput! englander!" i gazed at the stranger, hardly able to believe my ears. that trench jargon in this place! "are you english?" i asked him. at the sound of my voice he stared about him wildly. "ay, i be english, zur," he replied with a strong west country burr, "god help me!" and, heedless of me and my pistol, he covered his face with his hands and burst into a wild fit of sobbing again, rocking himself to and fro in his grief. "go back to monica!" i whispered to francis. "i'll see to this fellow!" i managed to pacify him presently. habit is a tenacious ruler and, grotesque figures though we were, the "zur" he had addressed to me brought out the officer in me. i talked to him as i would have done to one of my own men, and he quietened down at last and looked up at me. he was only a lad--i could tell that by the clearness of his skin and the brightness of his eyes--but his face was wan and wasted, and at the first glance he looked like a man of forty. under his great-coat, which was german, he was clad in filthy rags which once had been a khaki uniform, as the cut--and nothing else--revealed. he told me his simple story in his soft somersetshire accent, just the plain tale of the fate that has overtaken thousands of our fellow-countrymen since the war began. his name was maggs, sapper ebenezer maggs, of the royal engineers, and he was captured near mons in august, , when out laying a line with a party. with a long train of british prisoners--"zum of 'em was terrible bad, zur, dying, as you might say"--he had been marched off to a town and paraded to the railway station through streets thronged with jeering german soldiery. in cattle trucks, the fit, the wounded, the dying and the dead herded together, without food or water, they had made their journey into germany with hostile mobs at every station, once the frontier was past, brutal men and shrieking women, to whom not even the dying were sacred. it was a terrible tale, that lost nothing of its horror from the simple, unadorned style of this west country farmer's son. he had been one of the ragged, emaciated band of british prisoners of war who had shivered through that first long winter in the starvation camp of friedrichsfeld, near wesel. for two years he had endured the filthy food, the neglect, the harsh treatment, then a resourceful belgian friend, whom he called john, in happier days a contraband runner on this very frontier, had shown him a means to escape. five days before they had left the camp and separated, agreeing to meet at charlemagne's ride in the forest and try to force the frontier together. "john" had never come. for twenty-four hours maggs had waited in vain, then his courage had forsaken him, and he had crept to that hole in his grief. i went and fetched francis and monica. maggs shrunk back as they came in. "i bean't fit cumpany for no lady, zur," he whispered to me, "i be that durty, fair crawling i be ... we couldn't keep clean nohow in that camp!" all the good soldier's horror of dirt was in his voice. "that's all right, maggs," i answered soothingly, "she'll understand!" we sat down on the floor in the light of sapper maggs' candle, and francis and i reviewed our situation. the cave we were in ... an old smuggler's _cache_ ... was where francis had spent several days during his different attempts to get across the frontier. the border line was only about a quarter of a mile distant and ran right through the forest. there was no live-wire fencing in the forest, such as the germans have erected along the frontier between holland and belgium. the frontier was guarded by patrols. these patrols were posted four men to every two hundred yards along the line through the forest, so that two men, patrolling in pairs, covered a hundred yards apiece. it was now half-past five in the evening. we both agreed that we should certainly make the attempt to cross the frontier that night. francis nudged me, indicating the sapper with his eyes. "maggs," i said, "we are all in a bad way, but our case is more desperate than yours. i shall not tell you more than this, that, if we are caught, any of us three, we shall be shot, and anyone caught with us will fare the same. if you will take my advice, you will leave us and start off by yourself: the worst that can happen to you is to be sent back to your camp. you will be punished for running away, but you won't lose your life!" sapper maggs shook his yellow head. "i'll stay," he answered stolidly; "it's more cumfortable-like for us four to 'old together, and it's a better protection for the lady. i bean't afear'd of no gers, i bean't! i'll go along o' yew officers and the lady, if yew don't mind, zur!" so it was settled, and we four agreed to unite forces. before we set out francis wanted to go and reconnoitre. i thought he had done more than his share that day, and said so. but francis insisted. "i know my way blindfold about the forest, old man" he said "it'll be far safer for me than for you. i'll leave you the map and mark the route you are to follow, so that you can find the way if anything happens to me. if i'm not back by midnight, you ought certainly not to wait any longer, but make the attempt by yourselves." my brother handed me back the document and went over the route we were to follow on the map. then he deposited his bundle in the cave and declared himself ready. "and don't forget old clubfoot's box," he said by way of a parting injunction. monica took him out to the entrance of our refuge. she was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief when she returned. to divert her thoughts, i questioned her about the events that had led to my rescue, and she told me how, at francis' request, she had got all the servants out of the castle on different pretexts. it was francis who had got rid of the soldiers remaining as a guard. "you remember the captain of köpenick trick," she said. "well, francis played it off on the sergeant and those six men. he slept at cleves, had himself trimmed up at the barber's, bought those field-boots he is wearing, and stole that helmet and great-coat off the pegs in the passage at schmidt's café, where the officers always go and drink beer after morning parade. then he drove out to the castle--he knew that the place would be deserted once the shoot had started--and told the sergeant he had been sent from goch to inspect the guard. i think he is just splendid! he inspected the men and cursed everybody up and down, and sent the sergeant out to the paddock with orders to drill them for two hours. francis was telling me all about it as we came along. he says that if you can get hold of a uniform and hector a german enough, he will never call your bluff. can you beat it?" the hours dragged wearily on. we had no food, and maggs, who had eaten the last of his provisions twenty-four hours before--the british soldier is a bad hoarder--soon consumed the last of my cigarettes. it was past ten o'clock when i heard a step outside. the next moment francis came in, white and breathless. "they're beating the forest for us," he panted. "the place is full of men. i had to crawl the whole way there and back, and i'm soaked to the skin." i pointed to monica, who was fast asleep, and he lowered his voice. "des," he said, "i've hoped as long as i dared, but now i believe the game's up. they're beating the forest in a great circle, soldiers and police and customs men. if we set out at once we can reach the frontier before they get here, but what's the use of that ... every patrol is on the look-out for us ... the forest seems ablaze with torches." "we must try it, francis," i said. "we haven't a dog's chance if we stay here!" "i think you're right," he answered. "well, here's the plan. there's a deep ravine that runs clear across the frontier. i spent an hour in it. they've built a plank bridge across the top just this side of the line, and the patrol comes to the ravine about every three minutes. it is practically impossible to get out of sight and sound along that ravine in three minutes, but ..." "unless we could drar the patrol's attention away!" said sapper maggs. but francis ignored the interruption. "... we can at least try it. come on, we must be starting! thank god, there's no moon; it's as dark as the devil outside!" we roused up monica and groped our way out of the cave into the black and dripping forest. somewhere in the distance a faint glare reddened the sky. from time to time i thought i heard a shout, but it sounded far away. we crawled stealthily forward, francis in front, then monica, maggs and i last. in a few minutes we were wet through, and our hands, blue and dead with cold, were scratched and torn. our progress was interminably slow. every few yards francis raised his hand and we stopped. at last we reached the gloomy glade where, as francis had told us, according to popular belief, the wraith of charlemagne was still seen on the night of st. hubert's day galloping along with his ghostly followers of the chase. the rustling of leaves caught our ears; instantly we all lay prone behind a bank. a group of men came swinging along the glade. one of them was singing an ancient german soldier song: "die vöglein im walde sie singen so schön in der heimat, in der heimat, da gibt's ein wiederseh'n." "the relief patrol!" i whispered to francis, as soon as they were past. "the other lot they relieve will be back this way in a minute. we must get across quickly." my brother stood erect, and tiptoed swiftly across charlemagne's ride, and we followed. we must have crawled for an hour before we came to the ravine. it was a deep, narrow ditch with steep sides, full of undergrowth and brambles. now we could hear distinctly the voices of men all around us, as it seemed, and to right and to left and in front we caught at intervals glimpses of red flames through the trees. we could only proceed at a snail's pace lest the continual rustle of our footsteps should betray us. so each advanced a few paces in turn; then we all paused, and then the next one went forward. we could no longer crawl; the undergrowth was too thick for that; we had to go forward bent double. we had progressed like this for fully half an hour when francis, who was in front as usual, beckoned us to lie down. we all lay motionless among the brambles. then a voice somewhere above us said in german: "and i'll have a man at the plank here, sergeant: he can watch the ravine." another voice answered: "very good, herr leutnant, but in that case the patrols to right and left need not cross the plank each time; they can turn when they come to the ravine guard." the voices died away in a murmur. i craned my neck aloft. it was so dark, i could see nothing save the fretwork of branches against the night sky. i whispered to francis, who was just in front of me: "unless we make a dash for it now that man will hear us rustling along!" francis held up a finger. i heard a heavy footstep along the bank above us. "too late!" my brother whispered back. "do you hear the patrols?" footsteps crashing through the undergrowth resounded on the right and left. "cold work!" said a voice. "bitter!" came the answer, just above our heads. "seen anything?" "nothing!" the rustling began again on the right, and died away. "they're closing in on the left!" another voice this time. "heard anything, you?" from the voice above us. "not a thing!" the rustling broke out once more on the left, and gradually became lost in the distance. silence. i felt a hot breath in my ear. sapper maggs stood by my side. "there be a feller a-watching for us up there?" he whispered. i nodded. "if us could drar his 'tention away, yew could slip by, next time the patrols is past, couldn't 'ee?" again i nodded. "it'd be worse for yew than for me, supposin' yew'd be ca-art, that's what t'other officer said, warn't it?" and once more i nodded. the hot whisper came again. "i'll drar 'un off for ee, zur, nex' time the patrols pass. when i holler, yew and the others, yew run. thirty-one forty-three sapper maggs, r.e., from chewton mendip ... that's me... maybe yew'll let us have a bit o' writing to the camp." i stretched out my hand in the darkness to stop him. he had gone. i leant forward and whispered to francis: "when you hear a shout, we make a dash for it!" i felt him look at me in surprise--it was too dark to see his face. "right!" he whispered back. now to the left we heard voices shouting and saw torches gleaming red among the trees. to right and rear answering shouts resounded. again the patrols met at the plank above our heads, and again their departing footsteps rustled in the leaves. the murmur of voices grew nearer. we could faintly smell the burning resin of the torches. then a wild yell rent the forest. the voice above us shouted "halt!" but the echo was lost in the deafening report of a rifle. francis caught monica by the wrist and dragged her forward. we went plunging and crashing through the tangle of the ravine. we heard a second shot and a third, commands were shouted, the red glare deepened in the sky.... monica collapsed quite suddenly at my feet. she never uttered a sound, but fell prone, her face as white as paper. without a word we picked her up between us and went on, stumbling, gasping, coughing, our clothes rent and torn, the blood oozing from the deep scratches on our faces and hands. at length our strength gave out. we laid monica down in the ravine and drew the under growth over her, then we crawled in under the brambles exhausted, beat. dawn was streaking the sky with lemon when a dog jumped sniffing down into our hiding-place. francis and monica were asleep. a man stood at the top of the ravine looking down on us. he carried a gun over his shoulder. "have you had an accident?" he said kindly. he spoke in dutch. chapter xxi red tabs explains from the argyllshire hills winter has stolen down upon us in the night. behind him he has left his white mantle, and it now lies outspread from the topmost mountain peaks to the softly lapping tide at the black edges of the loch. yet as i sit adding the last words to this plain account of a curious episode in my life, the wintry scene dissolves before my eyes, and i see again that dawn in the forest ... francis and monica, sleeping side by side, like the babes in the wood, half covered with leaves, the eager, panting retriever, and myself, poor, ragged scarecrow, staring openmouthed at the dutchman whose kindly enquiry has just revealed to me the wondrous truth ... that we are safe across the frontier. what a disproportionate view one takes of events in which one is the principal actor! the great issues vanish away, the little things loom out large. when i look back on that morning i encounter in my memory no recollection of extravagant demonstrations of joy at our delivery, no hysteria, no heroics. but i find a fragrant remembrance of a glorious hot bath and an epic breakfast in the house of that kindly dutchman, followed by a whirlwind burst of hospitality on our arrival at the house of van urutius, which was not more than ten miles from the fringe of the forest. madame van urutius took charge of monica, who was promptly sent to bed, whilst francis and i went straight on to rotterdam, where we had an interview at the british consulate, with the result that we were able to catch the steamer for england the next day. as the result of various telegrams which francis dispatched from rotterdam, a car was waiting for us on our arrival at fenchurch street the next evening. in it we drove off for an interview with my brother's chief. francis insisted that i should hand over personally the portion of the document in our possession. "you got hold of it, des," he said, "and it's only fair that you should get all the credit. i have clubfoot's dispatch-box to show as the result of my trip. it's only a pity we could not have got the other half out of the cloak-room at rotterdam." we were shown straight in to the chief. i was rather taken aback by the easy calm of his manner in receiving us. "how are you, okewood?" he said, nodding to francis. "this your brother? how d'ye do?" he gave me his hand and was silent. there was a distinct pause. feeling distinctly embarrassed, i lugged out my portfolio, extracted the three slips of paper and laid them on the desk before the chief. "i've brought you something," i said lamely. he picked up the slips of paper and looked at them for a moment. then he lifted a cardboard folder from the desk in front of him, opened it and displayed the other half of the kaiser's letter, the fragment i had believed to be reposing in a bag at rotterdam railway station. he placed the two fragments side by side. they fitted exactly. then he closed the folder, carried it across the room to a safe and locked it up. coming back, he held out his two hands to us, giving the right to me, the left to francis. "you have done very well," he said. "good boys! good boys!" "but that other half ..." i began. "your friend ashcroft is by no means such a fool as he looks," the chief chuckled. "he did a wise thing. he brought your two letters to me. i saw to the rest. so, when your brother's telegram arrived from rotterdam, i got the other half of the letter out of the safe; i thought i'd be ready for you, you see!" "but how did you know we had the remaining portion of the letter?" i asked. the chief chuckled again. "my young men don't wire for cars to meet 'em at the station when they have failed," he replied. "now, tell me all about it!" so i told him my whole story from the beginning. when i had finished, he said: "you appear to have a very fine natural disposition for our game, okewood. it seems a pity to waste it in regimental work ..." i broke in hastily. "i've got a few weeks' sick leave left," i said, "and after that i was looking forward to going back to the front for a rest. this sort of thing is too exciting for me!" "well, well," answered the chief, "we'll see about that afterwards. in the meantime, we shall not forget what you have done ... and i shall see that it is not forgotten elsewhere." on that we left him. it was only outside that i remembered that he had told me nothing of what i was burning to know about the origin and disappearance of the kaiser's letter. it was my old friend, red tabs, whom i met on one of our many visits to mysterious but obviously important officials, that finally cleared up for me the many obscure points in this adventure of mine. when he saw me he burst out laughing. "'pon my soul," he grinned, "you seem to be able to act on a hint, don't you?" then he told me the story of the kaiser's letter. "there is no need to speak of the contents of this amazing letter," he began, "for you are probably more familiar with them than i am. the date alone will suffice ... july st, ... it explains a great deal. the last day of july was the moment when the peace of europe was literally trembling in the balance. you know the emperor's wayward, capricious nature, his eagerness for fame and military glory, his morbid terror of the unknown. in that fateful last week of july he was torn between opposing forces. on the one side was ranged the whole of the prussian military party, led by the crown prince and the emperor's own immediate entourage; on the other, the record of prosperity which years of peace had conferred on his realms. he had to choose between his own megalomania craving for military laurels, on the one hand, and, on the other, that place in history as the prince of peace for which, in his gentler moments, he has so often hankered. "the kaiser is a man of moods. he sat down and penned this letter in a fit of despondency and indecision, when the vision of peace seemed fairer to him than the spectre of war. god knows what violent emotion impelled him to write this extraordinary appeal to his english friend, an appeal which, if published, would convict him of the deepest treachery to his ally, but he wrote the letter and forthwith dispatched it to london. he did not make use of the regular courier: he sent the letter by a man of his own choosing, who had special instructions to hand the letter in person to prince lichnowski, the german ambassador. lichnowski was to deliver the missive personally to its destined recipient. "almost as soon as the letter was away, the kaiser seems to have realised what he had done, to have repented of his action. attempts to stop the messenger before he reached the coast appear to have failed. at any rate, we know that all through july st and august st lichnowski, in london, was bombarded with dispatches ordering him to send the messenger with the letter back to berlin as soon as he reached the embassy. "the courier never got as far as carlton house terrace. someone in the war party at the court of berlin got wind of the fateful letter and sent word to someone in the german embassy in london--the prussian jingoes were well represented there by kühlmann and others of his ilk--to intercept the letter. "the letter was intercepted. how it was done and by whom we have never found out, but lichnowski never saw that letter. nor did the courier leave london. with the imperial letter still in possession, apparently, he went to a house at dalston, where he was arrested on the day after we declared war on germany. "this courier went by the name of schulte. we did not know him at the time to be travelling on the emperor's business, but we knew him very well as one of the most daring and successful spies that germany had ever employed in this country. one of our people picked him up quite by chance on his arrival in london, and shadowed him to dalston, where we promptly laid him by the heels when war broke out. "schulte was interned. you have heard how one of his letters, stopped by the camp censor, put us on the track of the intercepted letter, and you know the steps we took to obtain possession of the document. but we were misled ... not by schulte, but through the treachery of a man in whom he confided, the interpreter at the internment camp. "to this man schulte entrusted the famous letter, telling him to send it by an underground route to a certain address at cleves, and promising him in return a commission of twenty-five per cent on the price to be paid for the letter. the interpreter took the letter, but did not do as he was bid. on the contrary, he wrote to the go-between, with whom schulte had been in correspondence (probably clubfoot), and announced that he knew where the letter was and was prepared to sell it, only the purchaser would have to come to england and fetch it. "well, to make a long story short, the interpreter made a deal with the huns, and this dr. semlin was sent to england from washington, where he had been working for bernstorff, to fetch the letter at the address in london indicated by the interpreter. in the meantime, we had got after the interpreter, who, like schulte, had been in the espionage business all his life, and he was arrested. "we know what semlin found when he reached london. the wily interpreter had sliced the letter in two, so as to make sure of his money, meaning, no doubt, to hand over the other portion as soon as the price had been paid. but by the time semlin got to london the interpreter was jugged and semlin had to report that he had only got half the letter. the rest you know ... how grundt was sent for, how he came to this country and retrieved the other portion. don't ask me how he set about it: i don't know, and we never found out even where the interpreter deposited the second half or how grundt discovered its hiding-place. but he executed his mission and got clear away with the goods. the rest of the tale you know better than i do!" "but clubfoot," i asked, "who is he?" "there are many who have asked that question," red tabs replied gravely, "and some have not waited long for their answer. the man was known by name and reputation to very few, by sight to even fewer, yet i doubt if any man of his time wielded greater power in secret than he. officially, he was nothing, he didn't exist; but in the dark places, where his ways were laid, he watched and plotted and spied for his master, the tool of the imperial spite as he was the instrument of the imperial vengeance. "a man like the kaiser," my friend continued, "monarch though he is, has many enemies naturally, and makes many more. head of the army, head of the navy, head of the church, head of the state--undisputed, autocratic head--he is confronted at every turn by personal issues woven and intertwined with political questions. it was in this sphere, where the personal is grafted on the political, that clubfoot reigned supreme ... here and in another sphere, where german william is not only monarch, but also a very ordinary man. "there are phases in every man's life, okewood, which hardly bear the light of day. in an autocracy, however, such phases are generally inextricably entangled with political questions. it was in these dark places that clubfoot flourished ... he and his men ... 'the g gang' we called them, from the letter 'g' (signifying _garde_ or _guard_) on their secret-service badges. "clubfoot was answerable to no one save to the emperor alone. his work was of so delicate, so confidential a nature, that he rendered an account of his services only to his imperial master. there was none to stay his hand, to check him in his courses, save only this neurotic, capricious cripple who is always open to flattery...." red tabs thought for a minute and then went on. "no one may catalogue," he said, "the crimes that clubfoot committed, the infamies he had to his account. not even the kaiser himself, i dare say, knows the manner in which his orders to this black-guard were executed--orders rapped out often enough, i swear, in a fit of petulance, a gust of passion, and forgotten the next moment in the excitement of some fresh sensation. "i know a little of clubfoot's record, of innocent lives wrecked, of careers ruined, of sudden disappearances, of violent deaths. when you and your brother put it across der stelze, okewood, you settled a long outstanding account we had against him, but you also rendered his fellow-huns a signal service." i thought of the comments i had heard on clubfoot among the customers at haase's, and i felt that red tabs had hit the right nail on the head again. "by the way?" said red tabs, as i rose to go, "would you care to see clubfoot's epitaph? i kept it for you." he handed me a german newspaper--the _berliner tageblatt_, i think it was--with a paragraph marked in red pencil. i read: "we regret to report the sudden death from apoplexy of dr. adolf grundt, an inspector of secondary schools. the deceased was closely connected for many years with a number of charitable institutions enjoying the patronage of the emperor. his majesty frequently consulted dr. grundt regarding the distribution of the sums allocated annually from the privy purse for benevolent objects." "pretty fair specimen of prussian cynicism?" laughed red tabs. but i held my head ... the game was too deep for me. * * * * * every week a hamper of good things is dispatched to sapper ebenezer maggs, british prisoner of war, gefangenen-lager, friedrichsfeld bei wesel. i have been in communication with his people, and since his flight from the camp they have not had a line from him. they will let me know at once if they hear, but i am restless and anxious about him. i dare not write lest i compromise him: i dare not make official enquiry as to his safety for the same reason. if he survived those shots in the dark, he is certainly undergoing punishment, and in that case he would be deprived of the privilege of writing or receiving letters.... but the weeks slip by and no message comes to me from chewton mendip. almost daily i wonder if the gallant lad survived that night to return to the misery of the starvation camp, or whether, out of the darkness of the forest, his brave soul soared free, achieving its final release from the sufferings of this world.... poor sapper maggs! francis and monica are honeymooning on the riviera. gerry, i am sure, would have refused to attend the wedding, only he wasn't asked. francis is getting a billet on the intelligence out in france when his leave is up. i have got my step, antedated back to the day i went into germany. francis has been told that something is coming to him and me in the new year's honours. i don't worry much. i am going back to the front on christmas eve. the end the return of clubfoot by valentine williams. whilst spending a holiday in a small central american republic, desmond okewood, of the secret service, learns from a dying beach-comber of a hidden treasure. with the assistance of a millionaire, he sets out for cock island, in the pacific. to his astonishment he discovers that the man with the clubfoot, whom he had regarded as dead, has anticipated him. it is obvious to okewood that his old enemy is also in search of the hidden gold, and there ensues a thrilling sequence of adventures, in which the millionaire's pretty niece takes a prominent part. okewood has the cipher, and the man with the clubfoot determines to secure it, for without that cipher it is impossible to discover the hiding-place of the treasure; but there is something that the man with the clubfoot does not know, whereas okewood does. the spy of the rebellion [illustration: _frontispiece._ p. . _allan pinkerton and general mcclellan in private consultation._] the spy of the rebellion; being a true history of the spy system of the united states army during the late rebellion. revealing many secrets of the war hitherto not made public. _compiled from official reports_ prepared for president lincoln, general mcclellan and the provost-marshal-general. by allan pinkerton, who (under the nom-de-plume of major e. j. allen) was chief of the united states secret service. _with numerous illustrations._ introduction by patrick bass university of nebraska press lincoln and london introduction copyright © by the university of nebraska press all rights reserved manufactured in the united states of america first bison book printing: most recent printing indicated by the last digit below: library of congress cataloging-in-publication data pinkerton, allan, - . the spy of the rebellion: being a true history of the spy system of the united states army during the late rebellion, revealing many secrets of the war hitherto not made public / by allan pinkerton: introduction by patrick bass. p. cm. "compiled from official reports prepared for president lincoln, general mcclellan, and the provost-marshal-general." reprint. originally published: hartford, conn.: m. a. winter & hatch, . isbn - - - (alk. paper) isbn - - - (pbk.) . united states--history--civil war, - --secret service. . united states--history--civil war, - --personal narratives. . pinkerton, allan, - . i. title. e .p . ' --dc - cip reprinted from the edition published by m. a. winter & hatch, hartford, connecticut. an appendix, "rebel forces before richmond," has been omitted from this bison book edition. contents. _introduction_ _preface_ chapter i. page _an unwritten page of history.--a political resumé.--abraham lincoln is elected president._ chapter ii. _opposition to mr. lincoln's inauguration.--a plot to assassinate him.--the journey from springfield, illinois._ chapter iii. _the conspirators at work.--detectives on their trail.--webster as a soldier._ chapter iv. _the conspirators in council.--my operative joins the conspiracy._ chapter v. _the presidential party arrives in philadelphia.--independence hall.--the departure from harrisburg.--telegraph wires cut.--through the lines of treason.--safe arrival at washington._ chapter vi. _my connection with the rebellion.--timothy webster accepts a mission._ chapter vii. _webster on his way to the capital.--wrecked trains and broken bridges.--an adventure with a cavalryman.--a rebel emissary.--president lincoln and timothy webster_. chapter viii. _timothy webster in washington.--the return to philadelphia.--i go to the capital.--an important letter_. chapter ix. _an adventure in pittsburg.--a mob at bay.--an explanation.--good feeling restored._ chapter x. _general mcclellan in command of ohio.--i am engaged for the war.--the secret service.--a consultation.--webster starts for rebeldom._ chapter xi. _webster fraternizes with the rebel officers.--a secession hat.--a visit to a rebel camp.--"the committee of safety."--a friendly stranger.--a warning.--the escape._ chapter xii. _i take a trip to the south.--danger in memphis.--a timely warning.--a persistent barber.--an unfortunate memory.--return to cincinnati._ chapter xiii. _east and west virginia.--seceding from secession.--my scouts in virginia.--a rebel captain entertains "my lord."--an old justice dines with royalty.--a lucky adventure.--a runaway horse.--a rescue._ chapter xiv. _the rebels attempt to occupy west virginia.--general mcclellan ordered to drive them out.--early battles.--the federals victorious.--west virginia freed from rebel soldiers._ chapter xv. _general mcclellan is called to washington, and placed in command of the armies after the battle of bull run.--the secret service department.--its duties and responsibilities._ chapter xvi. _a female traitor.--suspicious correspondence.--a close watch under difficulties.--i am arrested.--exposure of the treason of a trusted officer.--a disgraced captain._ chapter xvii. _timothy webster in baltimore.--an encounter with a fire-eater.--webster defends himself.--treason rampant in the monumental city._ chapter xviii. _webster makes a journey to the south.--a secret organization.--the "knights of liberty."--webster becomes a member.--a sudden intrusion of the military.--the conspiracy broken up._ chapter xix. _suspicions in washington.--"uncle gallus."--property searched.--a rebel family sent south.--webster starts for richmond._ chapter xx. _the spy at richmond.--earthworks around the rebel capital.--an unexpected meeting.--pistols for two.--a reconciliation.--safe return to washington._ chapter xxi. _again in baltimore.--a warning.--the spy is arrested.--and escapes._ chapter xxii. _webster and scobell.--a negro as a spy.--a traitor deserts from the army.--he carries dispatches to the rebels.--which fail of their destination.--an attack in the woods.--"the loyal league."--slaves as patriots._ chapter xxiii. _a negro spy.--passage on a steam-packet.--lyrical melodies.--scobell deserts the ship.--his tramps through rebeldom._ chapter xxiv. _a perilous ride.--a suspicious peddler.--uncle gallus again.--scobell investigating.--doubts and suspicions._ chapter xxv. _the journey resumed.--a midnight pursuit.--a brave woman.--a deadly encounter.--scobell defends himself.--death of a rebel spy._ chapter xxvi. _a woman's discoveries.--an infernal machine.--the shipping in danger.--discovery and destruction of the submarine battery._ chapter xxvii. _"stuttering dave."--his tramp through the rebel lines.--an ammunition train.--"dave's" plan succeeds in its destruction.--a man who stuttered and "had fits."_ chapter xxviii. _another trip to richmond.--a rebel general taken in.--curtis makes valuable acquaintances.--"the subterranean headquarters."_ chapter xxix. _a virginia home.--unwelcome visitors.--mr. harcourt arrested and released.--dan mccowan makes forcible love to mary harcourt.--the girl in peril.--a timely rescue.--the villain punished._ chapter xxx. _curtis again on his travels.--a loving episode.--dan mccowan again turns up.--the capture of curtis.--a fight for life.--and escape.--a bit of matrimony._ chapter xxxi. _mcclellan and his enemies.--the peninsula campaign.--the rebel forces before richmond.--the union forces outnumbered by the enemy, and their commander hampered by superiors.--an honest opinion._ chapter xxxii. _webster's expedition.--his gallantry.--a stormy passage.--a mysterious package.--treason discovered and punished._ chapter xxxiii. _activity in washington.--webster's journey through the south.--his return to the capital._ chapter xxxiv. _webster's last mission.--anxiety at his long absence.--no tidings of the faithful scout.--operatives sent in search of him.--webster ill in richmond._ chapter xxxv. _mcclellan and the government.--lewis and scully arrested as spies.--an attempted escape.--trial and conviction.--condemned to die.--before the gallows their mouths are opened._ chapter xxxvi. _webster arrested as a spy.--a woman's devotion, and a patriot's heroism.--webster is convicted.--the execution.--a martyr's grave._ chapter xxxvii. _the defeat of general pope at the second battle of manassas.--mcclellan again called to the command.--the battle of antietam.--a union victory.--a few thoughts about the union commander.--mcclellan's removal from command, and his farewell address._ chapter xxxviii. _general burnside in command.--my connection with the secret service severed.--reflections upon important events.--conclusion._ _appendix._ list of illustrations. page allan pinkerton and general mcclellan in private consultation. _frontispiece_ the oath to assassinate the president. swearing in of howard. lincoln raising the old flag. the departure for washington. safe arrival. attempt to capture webster. a visit to a rebel camp. timely warning. the barber's recognition. an english lord and a rebel captain. captured by the guards. an encounter with a fire-eater. a sudden intrusion of the military. the spy is arrested. escape of the spy. scobell engaged as deck-hand on a steamboat. death of a rebel spy. timely interruption to a love scene. webster's gallant bravery. webster discovers a mysterious package. the prisoners recaptured. webster's death warrant. a narrow escape. preface. nearly a score of years have passed since the occurrence of the events related in the following pages. the "rebellion," with its bloody scenes, has ended, and the country is at peace. the grass is waving green and beautiful over many southern fields that once ran with human blood, as the contending forces met in the deadly encounter. the birds are carolling sweetly in the air, which then was laden with the clarion notes of the trumpet; the fierce, wild yell of assaulting soldiery; the booming of cannon, and the groans of the wounded and dying. the merchant, the mechanic, and the husbandman have returned to the pursuits which they followed before the dark clouds of war had overshadowed this fair land, and they shouldered their muskets in defense of the union. from the desolation and the ravages of war, the country has emerged into the sunshine of abiding peace, and now, in the evening twilight, the gray-haired veterans gather around their family hearthstones to repeat the stories of bravery and devotion associated with those trying hours of their country's history. in the twilight of my days i have been tempted to the recitals which follow, and in relating my experiences as the chief of the secret service of the government during the rebellion, i have been governed by a desire to acquaint the public with the movements of those brave men who rendered invaluable service to their country, although they never wore a uniform or carried a musket. working quietly, and frequently under disguises, their assistance to the union commanders was of incalculable advantage, and many acts of courage and daring were performed by these men which, until now, have never been revealed. indeed, as to my own _nom-de-plume_, "e. j. allen," many of the officers of the army and officials of the government, with whom i was in constant communication, never knew me by any other name, and the majority of them are to this day in ignorance of the fact that e. j. allen, late chief of the secret service, and allan pinkerton are one and the same person. during the progress of the struggle, and the years which have since elapsed, many of my old acquaintances, who held important positions in the army and in governmental departments, have passed away from earth. some of them falling in the heat of battle, in the courageous discharge of duty, while others, passing through the fiery ordeal, have died amid the comforts and the charms of home. president lincoln, edwin m. stanton, william h. seward and salmon p. chase, all giants in their day, have departed from the sphere of their usefulness, and have gone to their long home. soldiers and civilians, generals and privates, with whom i was connected, and their name is legion, have taken up their journey to "that bourne from whence no traveler e'er returns." in detailing the various events which follow, i have been careful to offer nothing but that which actually transpired. i have avoided giving expression to any thoughts or feelings of antagonism to the south, because the time for such utterances has passed. indeed, except for the existence of slavery, i always cherished a warm affection for the southern people. but this institution of human bondage always received my most earnest opposition. believing it to be a curse to the american nation, and an evidence of barbarism, no efforts of mine were ever spared in behalf of the slave, and to-day i have not a single regret for the course i then pursued. many times before the war, when i was associated with those philanthrophic spirits who controlled the so-called "underground railroad," i have assisted in securing safety and freedom for the fugitive slave, no matter at what hour, under what circumstances, or at what cost, the act was to be performed. john brown, the white-haired abolitionist of kansas fame, was my bosom friend; and more than one dark night has found us working earnestly together in behalf of the fleeing bondman, who was striving for his liberty. after his gallant effort at harper's ferry, and while he was confined in a virginia prison, my efforts in his behalf were unceasing; and had it not been for the excessive watchfulness of those having him in charge, the pages of american history would never have been stained with a record of his execution. as it is, though his fate may have been in accordance with the decrees of the laws then existing, i can recall with all the old enthusiasm that i then experienced, the thundering effect of thousands of our brave "boys in blue," joining in that electric war cry, the refrain of which was: "john brown's body lies mouldering in the grave, but his soul goes marching along," while they hurried in solid phalanx to meet the enemy upon the field of battle. in the preliminary chapters, i have detailed with accuracy the facts connected with the conspiracy to assassinate abraham lincoln, when he was first elected to the presidency. the part i took in discovering the existence of that plot and the efforts of my men in ferreting out the prime movers of that murderous compact, are told for the first time in these pages, and the correctness of their relation is undoubted; though in the dark days that followed, the bullet of the assassin removed the martyred president, while engaged in the fulfillment of his mission. i cannot repress a sense of pride in the fact, that at the commencement of his glorious career i had averted the blow that was aimed at his honest, manly heart. in the events which transpired during the years and , i took an active part. from the early days of april until after the battle of antietam had been fought and won, i was connected with the military operations of the government. in washington i acted under the directions of the secretaries of war, and colonel andrew porter, the provost-marshal; and in the field, i was under the immediate direction of general george b. mcclellan. my relations with the various departments were always of the most cordial and confidential character. to particularize in this matter is almost impossible; but i cannot refrain from mentioning, in the highest terms of respect and friendship, colonel thomas a. scott of pennsylvania. in the early days of the nation's peril, he occupied the position of assistant secretary of war. in him i always found a warm friend and advocate, and in many emergencies his prompt and intelligent action was most potent in accomplishing good results in that era of confusion, of doubt and hesitation. of my service with the military department while in active duty, little needs to be said here. from the time of his commission by governor dennison of ohio, to the day when he was relieved, after his splendid victory at antietam, i followed the fortunes of general mcclellan. never doubting his ability or his loyalty--always possessing his confidence and esteem, i am at this time proud and honored in ranking him foremost among my invaluable friends. when secret enemies were endeavoring to prejudice the mind of the president against his chosen commander; when wily politicians were seeking to belittle him in the estimation of the people, and when jealous minded officers were ignorantly criticising his plans of campaign, general mcclellan pursued his course with unflinching courage and with a devotion to his country unsurpassed by any who have succeeded him, and upon whose brows are entwined the laurels of the conqueror. his marvelous reorganization of the army, the enthusiasm with which his presence invariably inspired the soldiers under his command, and the grand battles which he fought against enemies in front and in rear, have all passed into history--and to-day the intelligent and unprejudiced reader finds in a calm and dispassionate review of his career, an ample and overwhelming justification of his course as a loyal and capable commander-in-chief. self-constituted critics, whose avenues of information were limited and unreliable, have attempted to prove that the force opposed to general mcclellan was much less than was really the case; and upon this hypothesis have been led into unjust and undeserved censure of the commanding general. from my own experience, i _know_ to the contrary. my system of obtaining knowledge upon this point was so thorough and complete, my sources of information were so varied, that there could be no serious mistake in the estimates which i then made and reported to general mcclellan. from every available field the facts were gleaned. from prisoners of war, contrabands, loyal southerners, deserters, blockade-runners and from actual observations by trustworthy scouts, my estimates were made, and to-day i affirm as strongly as i then did, that the force opposed to general mcclellan before richmond approximated nearer to , men, than they did to the numerous estimates of irresponsible historians who have placed the strength of the rebel forces at that time below , men. in this connection i must refer also to the valuable assistance rendered both general mcclellan and myself by that indefatigable aid-de-camp colonel key. though he no longer mingles with the things of earth, the memory of his devotion and his intelligent services to the cause of the union is imperishable. no truer, braver man ever drew a sword than did this noble and efficient staff officer, now deceased. of timothy webster, who so ably assisted me in my various and delicate duties, and whose life was sacrificed for the cause he held so dear, i have only words of warmest commendation. brave, honest and intelligent, he entered into the contest to perform his whole duty, and right nobly did he fulfill his pledge. no danger was too great, no trust too responsible, no mission too delicate for him to attempt, and though executed as a spy in a richmond prison, his name shall ever be cherished with honor and friendship by those who knew his worth, and who appreciated the unswerving devotion of a loyal heart. no dishonor can ever attach to the memory of a patriot who died in the service of his country. the events narrated have all occurred. the record is a truthful one. although not so complete as i could wish, they must serve the purpose for which they are intended. in the disastrous fire which swept over chicago in , my records were mainly destroyed, and to this fact must be attributed the failure to more elaborately detail the multitudinous operations of my men. with the able assistance of mr. george h. bangs, my efficient general superintendent, "we did what we could," and the approbation of our commanding officers attest the efficiency of our efforts. after leaving the service, the conduct of the war passed into other hands. other men were chosen to the command of the armies, and other sources of information were resorted to. succeeding battles have been fought, defeats have been sustained, victories have been achieved, and the war is happily ended. the slave is free, and in the enjoyment of the rights of citizenship. the country is at peace, her prosperity is assured, and now that passion and prejudice have died away, and honest judgments are given of the events that have transpired, i leave to the impartial reader, and historian, the question whether the course i pursued, and the general whom i loved and faithfully served, are deserving of censure, or are entitled to the praises of a free and enlightened people. allan pinkerton. the spy of the rebellion. chapter i. "_an unwritten page of history."--a political resumé.--mr. lincoln is elected president._ many years have elapsed since the occurrence of the events which i am about to relate. years that have been full of mighty import to the nation. a bitter, prolonged and bloody war has laid its desolating hands upon a once united country. for years the roar of cannon and the clash of steel reverberated through the bright valleys and the towering hills of the fruitful south. in those years when brother arose against his brother, when ties of kindred and association were broken asunder like frail reeds, glorious deeds were wrought and grand results have been accomplished. america has taught the world a lesson of bravery and endurance; the shackles have been stricken from the slave; an error of a century has been crushed, and freedom is now no longer an empty name, but a beautiful and enduring realism. to-day peace spreads her broad, sheltering arms over a reunited and enlightened nation. the roll of the drum and the tramp of armed men are now no longer heard. north and south have again clasped hands in a renewal of friendship and in a perpetuity of union. but a short time ago a republican president elected by but a slight majority of the voters of this great community, left his peaceful home in the west and journeyed to the capital of the nation, to take the oath of office and to assume the high duties of a chief magistrate. as he passed through the towns and cities upon his route a general plaudit of welcome was his greeting, even noted political foes joining in the demonstrations. his road was arched with banners and his path was strewn with flowers. everywhere he found an enthusiasm of welcome, a universal prayer for success, and the triumphal train entered the capital amid the ovations of the populace, which reached almost a climax of patriotic and effervescing joy. twenty years ago witnessed a different condition of affairs. the political horizon was dark and obscured. the low mutterings of the storm that was soon to sweep over our country, and to deluge our fair land with fratricidal blood, were distinctly heard. sectional differences were developing into widespread dissensions. cherished institutions were threatened with dissolution, and political antagonism had aroused a contented people into a frenzy of hate. on the twenty-second of may, , an american senator was assaulted in the senate-house by a political opponent for daring to give utterance to opinions that were hostile to the slave-holding interests of the south. later in the same year a republican candidate, with professed anti-slavery views, was nominated for the presidency, and although defeated, gave evidence of such political strength that southern leaders became alarmed. at this time the hon. stephen a. douglas was a prominent leader of the democratic party, but through his opposition to what was known as the lecompton bill, he incurred the displeasure of his political friends of the south, who vainly endeavored to enact such legislation as would practically lead to his retirement from the party. in the famous contest between abraham lincoln and stephen a. douglas for the united states senatorship from illinois took place, and during its progress absorbed public attention throughout the country. the two candidates indulged in open discussions of questions of public policy, which were remarkable for their brilliancy and for the force and vigor with which their different views were uttered. it was during this canvass that mr. lincoln made the forcible and revolutionizing declaration that: "_the union cannot permanently endure half slave and half free._" mr. lincoln was defeated, however, and mr. douglas was returned to the senate, much against the wishes of those democrats who desired the unlimited extension of the institution of slavery. in the following year occurred the slave insurrection in virginia, under the leadership of that bold abolitionist, john brown. the movement was frustrated, however, and john brown, after a judicial trial for his offense, was sentenced to be hung. up to the day of his execution he remained firm in the belief that he had but performed his duty toward enslaved humanity, and he died avowing the justice of his cause and the hope of its ultimate success. all of these occurrences tended to engender a spirit of fierce opposition in the minds of the southern leaders. the growing sentiment of abolitionism throughout the north, and the manifest disposition to prevent its increase or extension, aroused the advocates of slavery to a degree of alarm, which led to the commission of many actions, both absurd and unjustifiable. the year of opened upon a scene of political agitation which threatened to disrupt long united associations, and to erect sectional barriers which appeared almost impossible to overcome. in april, , the democratic national convention assembled in charleston, south carolina, for the purpose of nominating a candidate for the presidency. during its session loud and angry debates occurred, in which the southern element endeavored to obtain a strong indorsement of the institution of slavery, and of the right to carry slaves into the territories of the united states. they were met by the more conservative portion of the party, who desired to leave the question to be decided by the states themselves. after a prolonged discussion the majority of the southern states withdrew their delegates from the convention, and the remainder proceeded to ballot for a candidate of their choice. after a protracted sitting, during which several ballots were taken and no decided result obtained, the convention adjourned, to meet in the city of baltimore on the eighteenth day of june succeeding. stephen a. douglas, of illinois, received a large percentage of the votes that were cast, but failed to obtain a sufficient number to secure his nomination. the withdrawing delegates organized a rival convention, but, without transacting any business of a decisive character, also adjourned, to meet in baltimore at a date nearly coincident with that of the regular body. on the nineteenth day of may, the constitutional union (being the old american) party held their convention in the city of baltimore, and nominated john bell, of tennessee, for president, and edward everett, of massachusetts, for the vice-presidency. the republican convention was held on the sixteenth day of may, in the city of chicago, and upon the third ballot nominated abraham lincoln, of illinois, for the office of president, and hannibal hamlin, of maine, for the second office. this convention also adopted a platform very pronounced upon the subject of slavery, and which was calculated to give but little encouragement to the extension or perpetuity of the slave-holding power. on the eighteenth day of june the regular democratic convention assembled, pursuant to adjournment, in the city of baltimore, and named stephen a. douglas, of illinois, and herschel v. johnson, of georgia, as their standard-bearers in the political conflict that was to ensue. on the twenty-eighth day of the same month the seceding delegates met in the same city, and after pronouncing their ultra views upon the question of slavery, nominated john c. breckinridge, of kentucky (then the vice-president of the country), and general joseph lane, of oregon, as the candidates of their choice. the lines of battle were now drawn, and from that time until the election, in november, a fierce contest was waged between the opposing parties. never before in the history of parties was a canvass conducted with more bitterness or with a greater amount of vituperation. the whole country was engrossed with the gigantic struggle. business interests, questions of finance and of international import were all made subservient to the absorbing consideration of the election of a national president. the southern "fire-eaters," as they were called, fully realized their inability to elect the candidates they had named, but strove with all their power to prevent the success of the regular democratic nominees, and when at last the day of election came, and the votes were counted, it was found that the republican party had been victorious and that abraham lincoln had been elected. in many portions of the south this result was hailed with joyful enthusiasm. the anti-slavery proclivities of the successful party was instantly made a plausible pretext for secession and the withdrawal of the slave-holding states from the union was boldly advocated. the same power that threatened in , in the words of governor wise of virginia: "that if fremont had been elected, he would have marched at the head of twenty thousand men to washington, and taken possession of the capital, preventing by force fremont's inauguration at that place"--was again aroused, and an open opposition to the republican inauguration was for a time considered. the absorbing and exciting question in the south was: "would the south submit to a black republican president and a black republican congress?" and the answer to the question was a loud and decisive negative. among the bolder advocates of secession the election of mr. lincoln was regarded with pleasure, and meetings were held in charleston, rejoicing in the triumph of the republican party. secession and disunion were loudly advocated, and the slave oligarchy of south carolina regarded this event as the opportunity to achieve her long-cherished purpose of breaking up the union, and forming a new confederacy, founded upon the peculiar ideas of the south. says horace greeley: "men thronged the streets, talking, laughing, cheering, like mariners long becalmed upon a hateful, treacherous sea, when a sudden breeze had swiftly wafted them within sight of their looked for haven, or like a seedy prodigal, just raised to affluence by the death of some far-off, unknown relative, and whose sense of decency is not strong enough to repress his exultation." open threats were made to withdraw at once from the union, and these demonstrations seemed to find sympathy among other nations than our own, and soon foreign intrigue was hand and glove with domestic treason, in the attempt to sap the foundations of our government, and seeking peculiar advantages from its overthrow. it is unnecessary to detail the various phases of this great agitation, which, firing the southern heart with the frenzy of disunion, finally led to the secession of the southern states. various compromises were attempted, but all failed of beneficial result. the "masterly inactivity" of the administration contributed in no small degree to the accomplishment of this object, and in the end the southern confederacy was organized and jefferson davis was elected as its president. the palmetto waved over the custom-house and post-office at charleston; government forts and arsenals were seized by the volunteers to the southern cause, and on february , , the federal mint and custom-house at new orleans were taken possession of by the secessionists. the removal of major anderson from fort moultrie to the more secure stronghold of fort sumter, in charleston harbor, had been accomplished, and as yet no measures had been taken by the government to prevent further demonstrations of a warlike character on the part of the southern confederacy. the administration remained passive and inert, while every effort was being made to calm the public fears of hostilities, and the organization of an open revolt. the city of baltimore was, at this time, a slave-holding city, and the spirit of slavery was nowhere else more rampant and ferocious. the mercantile and social aristocracy of that city had been sedulously and persistently plied, by the conspirators for disunion, with artful and tempting suggestions of her future greatness and advancement as the chief city of the new government. if a confederacy composed of the fifteen slave-holding states was organized, baltimore, it was urged, would naturally be the chief city of the new republic. in time it would become the rival of new york, and occupy to the confederacy the same relations which new york does to the union, and would be the great ship-building, shipping, importing and commercial emporium. these glittering prophecies had not been uttered without effect. the ambition of the aristocracy was aroused. already they saw the ocean whitened with her sails, and the broad domain of maryland adorned with the palaces reared from her ample and ever-expanding profits. under these hallucinations, their minds were corrupted, and they seemed eager to rush into treason. being a border state, maryland occupied a position of particular importance. emissaries were sent to her from south carolina and elsewhere, and no effort was spared to secure her co-operation in these revolutionary movements. it is to be regretted that they were too successful, and the result was that the majority of the wealthier classes and those in office were soon in sympathy with the rebellion, and the spirit of domestic treason, for a time, swept like a tornado over the state. added to the wealthier classes was the mob element of the city of baltimore--reckless and unscrupulous, as mobs generally are--and this portion of her community were avowedly in full accord with the prospective movement, and ready to do the bidding of the slave power. between these, however, there existed a great middle class, who were loyally and peacefully inclined. but this class, large as it was, had hitherto been divided in their political opinions, and had as yet arrived at no common and definite understanding with regard to the novel circumstances of the country and the events which seemed to be visibly impending. the government of the city of baltimore was under the control of that branch of the democracy who supported breckinridge, and who had attained power under a popular cry for reform, and it was soon learned that these leaders were deep in the counsels of the secessionists. the newspaper press was no small factor of this excitement--their utterances had much to do in leading public opinion, and though their efforts "to fire the southern heart," many were led to sanction the deeds of violence and outrage which were contemplated. especial efforts had been made to render mr. lincoln personally odious and contemptible, and his election formed the pretexts of these reckless conspirators, who had long been plotting the overthrow of the union. no falsehood was too gross, no statement too exaggerated, to be used for that purpose, and so zealously did these misguided men labor in the cause of disunion, and so systematically concerted was their action, that the mass of the people of the slave states were made to believe that this pure, patient, humane, christian statesman was a monster whose vices and passions made him odious, and whose political beliefs made him an object of just abhorrence. this was the condition of affairs at the dawning of the year . [illustration: a council of war.] chapter ii. _opposition to mr. lincoln's inauguration.--a plot to assassinate him.--the journey from springfield._ with the opening of the new year, the political condition evinced alarming symptoms. as the day of the inauguration of the new president drew near, the excitement became intense. loud threats were made that mr. lincoln should never be permitted to take the oath of office, and the hostility of the south manifested itself in such a manner as to excite the fears of those who desired the peaceful solution of the important question of continued union. the events about to be related have been for a long time shrouded in a veil of mystery. while many are aware that a plot existed at this time to assassinate the president-elect upon his contemplated journey to the capital, but few have any knowledge of the mode by which the conspiracy was detected, or the means employed to prevent the accomplishment of that murderous design. considerations which affected the personal safety of those who actively participated in this detection, precluded a disclosure at the time, but that such a conspiracy existed no doubt can be entertained. now, however, that the dark clouds have passed away, and the bright sunshine of an enduring peace is throwing its beneficent rays over a united country, the truth may be disclosed, and a desire to peruse a hidden page of history may now be gratified. early in the year i was at my headquarters in the city of chicago, attending to the manifold duties of my profession. i had, of course, perused the daily journals which contained the reports of doings of the malcontents of the south, but in common with others, i entertained no serious fears of an open rebellion, and was disposed to regard the whole matter as of trivial importance. the same tones had been listened to before, and although the disunionists had hitherto never taken such aggressive steps, i was inclined to believe that with the incoming of the new administration, determined or conciliatory measures would be adopted, and that secession and rebellion would be either averted or summarily crushed. at this time i received a letter from mr. samuel h. felton, the president of "the philadelphia, wilmington and baltimore railroad," requesting my presence in philadelphia upon a matter of great importance. from his communication it appeared that rumors were afloat as to the intention of the roughs and secessionists of maryland to injure the road of which he was the president. from what had already been learned, it was feared that their designs were to prevent travel upon the road either by destroying the ferry-boats which then carried the trains across the susquehanna river at havre de grace or by demolishing the railroad bridges over the gunpowder river and other streams. this road was the great connecting link between the metropolis of the country and the capital of the nation, and it was of the utmost importance that no interruption should be permitted to the free communication between washington and the great cities of the north and west. this letter at once aroused me to a realization of the danger that threatened the country, and i determined to render whatever assistance was in my power towards preventing the successful operation of these ill-advised and dangerous men. i lost no time, therefore, in making my arrangements, and soon after receiving mr. felton's communication, in company with four members of my force was upon the train speeding towards philadelphia. upon arriving in that city, i went directly to the office of mr. felton and obtained from him all the information he possessed of the movements and designs of the maryland secessionists. i also had a consultation with mr. h. f. kenney, the superintendent of the road, with reference to a plan of operation which i proposed, and which was considered would result in obtaining the information so much to be desired. i resolved to locate my men at the various towns along the road, selecting such places where, it was believed, disaffection existed. with a view, therefore, of acquiring the facts necessary for an intelligent prosecution of the inquiry, i took passage on one of the trains of the road, intending to see for myself how affairs stood, and to distribute my men in such a manner as to me seemed best. at the city of wilmington, in delaware, i found evidences of a great political excitement, but nothing that indicated a hostile disposition or which led me to believe that any danger was to be apprehended at this place. nothing that savored of organization was apparent, and i was therefore compelled to look further for the existence of any antagonism to the railroad or any desire to prevent the running of their trains. at perryville i found the same excitable condition of affairs, but nothing of a more aggressive character than at wilmington. men indulged in fierce arguments, in which both sides were forcibly represented, but aside from this i discovered no cause for apprehension, and no occasion for active detective work as yet. at havre de grace, however, the lines were more clearly drawn and the popular feeling much more bitter. it was at this point that the boats which carried the trains crossed the susquehanna river, and where serious damage might be done to the company, should the ferries be destroyed. i therefore left one man at this place, with instructions to become acquainted with such men as he might, on observation, consider suspicious, and to endeavor to obtain from them, by association, a knowledge of their intentions. at perrymansville, in maryland, the feeling was considerably more intense. under the influence of bad men the secession movement had gained many supporters and sympathizers. loud threats were uttered against the railroad company, and it was boastfully asserted that "no d--d abolitionist should be allowed to pass through the town alive." i have always found it a truism that "a barking dog never bites," and although i had but little fear that these blatant talkers would perform any dangerous deeds, i considered it best to be fully posted as to their movements, in order to prevent a catastrophe, if possible. i accordingly directed timothy webster, a daring and discreet man upon my force, to locate himself at this point, and to carefully note everything that transpired which had any relation to attempted violence or a disposition to resort to aggressive measures. as i neared the city of baltimore the opposition to the government and the sympathy with secession was manifestly more intense. at magnolia, particularly, i observed a very dangerous feeling, and among men of all classes the general sentiment was in favor of resistance and force. another operative, john seaford, was accordingly left at this place, with instructions similar to those which had been given to the others. i then proceeded on to baltimore, and there i found the greatest amount of excitement that i had yet experienced. i took quarters at the howard house, and proceeded to inquire closely and carefully into the political situation. i soon found that the fears of the railroad officials were not wholly without foundation. the opposition to mr. lincoln's inauguration was most violent and bitter, and a few days' sojourn in this city convinced me that great danger was to be apprehended, and that the sentiment of disunion was far more widespread and deeply rooted than i had before imagined. the police force of the city was under the control of marshal george p. kane, and was almost entirely composed of men with disunion proclivities. their leader was pronouncedly in favor of secession, and by his orders the broadest license was given to disorderly persons and to the dissemination of insurrectionary information. this individual was subsequently arrested, and, after a brief sojourn in fort mchenry, fled in to the more congenial associations of richmond. from the knowledge i gained of the situation in baltimore, i resolved to establish my headquarters in that city. i accordingly engaged a building situated on south street, and in a position where i could receive prompt reports from all quarters of the metropolis. i also sent for an additional force of men, whom i distributed among the people of all grades and conditions of life. the building i had selected was admirably adapted for my purpose, and was so constructed that entrance could be gained to it from all four sides, through alleyways that led in from neighboring streets. day by day, the reports of my men contained many important revelations of the designs of the opposition, and as a matter of additional precaution, i advised mr. felton to employ a small number of men to guard the various bridges and ferries, who could be warned in time to resist attack should such be made. the chief opposition seemed to be to the inauguration of president lincoln, and the plan of the conspirators was to excite and exasperate the popular feeling against the president-elect to the utmost, and so successfully had this been done that a majority of the wealthier classes, with few exceptions--those in office--and the mob element in general were in full accord in their desire to prevent the inauguration from taking place. on the eleventh day of february, mr. lincoln, with a few of his personal friends, left his quiet home in springfield to enter upon that tempestuous political career which eventually carried him to a martyr's grave. among the party who accompanied the president were norman b. judd, esq., col. ward h. lamon, judge davis, col. sumner, a brave and impetuous officer, major hunter, capt. john pope, col. ellsworth, whose heroic death took place shortly afterwards, and john g. nicolay, the president's private secretary. as the president was about leaving his home, the people turned out en masse to bid him farewell, and to them mr. lincoln addressed the following pathetic words of parting: "my friends: no one who has never been placed in a like position can understand my feelings at this hour, nor the oppressive sadness i feel at this parting. for more than a quarter of a century i have lived among you, and during all that time i have received nothing but kindness at your hands. here i have lived from youth until now i am an old man; here the most sacred ties of earth were assumed; here all my children were born, and here one of them lies buried. to you, dear friends, i owe all that i have, and all that i am. all the strange checkered past seems now to crowd upon my mind. to-day i leave you. i go to assume a task more difficult than that which devolved upon washington. unless the great god who assisted him shall be with me and aid me, i must fail; but if the same omniscient mind and almighty arm that directed and protected him shall guide and support me, i shall not fail--i shall succeed. let us all pray that the god of our fathers may not forsake us now. to him i commend you all. permit me to ask that with equal sincerity and faith you will invoke his wisdom and guidance for me. with these few words i must leave you, for how long i know not. friends, one and all, i must bid you an affectionate farewell." how touchingly simple and earnest seem these words. a strange and almost weird presentiment of grief and suffering give his utterances a pathos that becomes profoundly impressive when linked with subsequent events. how prophetic too--full of tears and fraught with the prescience of a future terrible and bloody war--they bear yet an echo like that of the voice that sounded in the ear of halleck's dying hero--for surely in their tones are heard the thanks of millions yet to be. how more than prophetic they seemed when, four years later, "a funeral train, covered with the emblems of splendid mourning, rolled into the same city, bearing a corpse whose obsequies were being celebrated in every part of the civilized world." from springfield the passage was a perfect continuous ovation. cities and towns, villages and hamlets, vied with each other in testifying their devotion to union and their determination to uphold the chief magistrate in the great trial before him. immense crowds surrounded the stations at which the special train halted, and in the cities of indianapolis, cincinnati, columbus, pittsburg, cleveland, erie, buffalo, albany, new york, trenton, newark, philadelphia and harrisburg, public demonstrations of an imposing character were given in his honor, and vast concourses of people assembled to greet him. everywhere he was received and honored as the chief of a free people, and in reply to complimentary addresses which he day by day received, the president endeavored to utter cheering words, and indicated a disbelief in any bloody issue of our domestic complications. on the day prior to the departure of mr. lincoln from his home, i received a letter from the master mechanic of the railroad, of which the following is an extract: "i am informed that a son of a distinguished citizen of maryland said that he had taken an oath with others to assassinate mr. lincoln before he gets to washington, and they may attempt to do it while he is passing over our road. i think you had better look after this man, if possible. this information is perfectly reliable. i have nothing more to say at this time, but will try to see you in a few days." this communication was confirmatory of reports of an indefinite character which had reached me prior to this, and the information was far too important to be disregarded. i determined, therefore, to probe the matter to the bottom, and obtaining the authority of mr. felton for such action, i immediately set about the discovery of the existence of the conspiracy and the intention of its organization, and then, if coolness, courage and skill could save the life of mr. lincoln, and prevent the revolution which would inevitably follow his violent death, i felt sure of accomplishing it. my plans were soon perfected, and they were to have several of my men, together with myself, announced as residents of charleston and new orleans, and by assuming to be secessionists of the most ultra type, to secure entrance into their secret societies and military organizations, and thus become possessed of their secret designs. in looking over the qualifications of the members of my corps i found two men admirably adapted to the object i had in view. they were both young and both fully able to assume and successfully carry out the character of a hot-blooded, fiery secessionist. one of these men, whom i shall call joseph howard, was a young man of fine personal appearance, and of insinuating manners. he was of french descent, and in his youth had been carefully educated for a jesuit priest, but finding the vocation distasteful to him, he had abandoned it. added to his collegiate studies, he possessed the advantage of extensive foreign travel, and the ability to speak, with great facility, several foreign languages. he had a thorough knowledge of the south, its localities, prejudices, customs and leading men, which had been derived from several years residence in new orleans and other southern cities, and was gifted with the power of adaptation to persons whom they wish to influence, so popularly attributed to the jesuits. howard was instructed to assume the character of an extreme secessionist, to obtain quarters at one of the first-class hotels, and register his name, with residence at new orleans. this was done because he was well acquainted with the city, having resided there for a long time, and was consequently enabled to talk familiarly of prominent individuals of that city whom he had met. the other man whom i selected for this important work was timothy webster. he was a man of great physical strength and endurance, skilled in all athletic sports, and a good shot. possessed of a strong will and a courage that knew no fear, he was the very man to operate upon the middle and lower classes who composed the disunion element. his subsequent career as a union spy--one of the most perilous and thankless positions--and his ignominious death at richmond, at the hands of the rebels, have passed into history, but no historian will ever relate the thousand perils through which he passed in the service of his country; of his boldness and ingenuity in acquiring information that was of incalculable value to the union officers, nor of his wonderful fertility of invention, which frequently enabled him to escape from dangers which would have appalled a less brave or less devoted man. arrested at last, he was condemned as a spy, and on the thirtieth day of april, , he was executed in the city of richmond, by order of jefferson davis. even then he would have succeeded in effecting a well-devised plan of escape, had he not been rendered incapable of movement by reason of a prostrating sickness. his name is unknown to fame, but fewer hearts beat truer to the union, and fewer arms performed more devoted service in its cause, and a record of his daring and romantic adventures as a union spy, would certainly equal, if not surpass, those of the harvey birch of cooper. it was not long before i received undoubted evidence of the existence of a systematized organization whose avowed object was to assist the rebellious states, but which was in reality formed to compass the death of the president, and thus accomplish the separation of the states. i learned also that a branch of this conspiracy existed at perrymansville, under the guise of a company of cavalry, who met frequently and drilled regularly. leaving harwood to operate in baltimore with the others, i dispatched timothy webster back to perrymansville, and in twenty-four hours thereafter he had enrolled himself as a member of the company, and was recognized as a hail fellow among his rebel associates. chapter iii. _the conspirators at work.--detectives on their trail.--webster as a soldier._ every day reports would be brought to me from the numerous men i had detailed along the line of the railroad, and regularly on alternate days i would make the journey from baltimore to philadelphia for consultation with the officers of the company. at every visit which i made to the suspected localities, i could not fail to notice an increase in the excitement and the indications of a disposition to open revolt became more evident. everywhere the ruling principle seemed to be opposition to the new administration and a decided inclination to aid the confederacy. as the daily papers, which chronicled the events which occurred upon the journey of mr. lincoln towards washington, or the desperate movements of the southern ringleaders, were perused by the people, or were read aloud in tavern or store, they would be greeted by alternate expressions of hate and malignity for the abolitionist and wild cheers for the rebellion. this feeling, too, was largely increased by the visits which prominent villagers would make to baltimore, and who, upon their return, would relate marvelous stories of what they had seen and heard of the courage, the unity and the determination of the southern people. everything calculated to inflame the popular mind was seized upon, and the wonderful spirit of invention which these men evinced was simply astonishing. as a consequence, the ignorant residents of these villages and towns, having no authoritative information of their own, relied implicitly upon the exaggerated statements and untruthful reports of their leaders, and were kept in a condition of excitement that made them ready tools of their unscrupulous and better-informed managers. as far as could be learned, however, no definite plan of action had been arranged, and no public outbreak had as yet occurred. barnum's hotel, in baltimore, appeared to be the favorite resort of the southern element. the visitors from all portions of the south located at this house, and in the evenings the corridors and parlors would be thronged by the tall, lank forms of the long-haired gentlemen who represented the aristocracy of the slave-holding interests. their conversations were loud and unrestrained, and any one bold enough or sufficiently indiscreet to venture an opinion contrary to the righteousness of their cause, would soon find himself in an unenviable position and frequently the subject of violence. as this hotel was so largely patronized by the so-called "fire-eaters," i instructed howard to go there in order to secure quarters and to ingratiate himself with these extremists. it was not long after this, that, joining a company of gentlemen who were loudly declaiming against the ruling powers of the country, he entered into their discussion, and by blatant expressions of the most rebellious nature, he was warmly welcomed by the coterie and instantly made one of their number. hailing as he did from new orleans, his residence was a ready passport to their favor and confidence, and his fine personal appearance, gentlemanly address and the fervor of his utterances soon won the favor of those with whom he associated. to a general inquiry he stated that private affairs of a financial nature required his presence in baltimore, but as his acquaintance with the trustworthy emissaries of rebeldom increased, he quietly insinuated that affairs of a national character were far more dear to him than individual interests or private concerns. by continued intercourse with these men, he greatly increased the circle of his acquaintances, and soon became a welcome guest at the residences of many of the first families of that refined and aristocratic city. here his accomplishments appeared to the best advantage. his romantic disposition and the ease of his manner captivated many of the susceptible hearts of the beautiful baltimore belles, whose eyes grew brighter in his presence, and who listened enraptured to the poetic utterances which were whispered into their ears under the witching spell of music and moonlit nature. he gradually neared the circle of which marshal george p. kane appeared to be the leader, and in a short time he had succeeded in entirely winning his confidence, and from this gentleman howard acquired many important items of information. the entire police force of the city--officers and men--were in full sympathy with the rebellion, and it became apparent to him that a strict watch was kept over every man who expressed northern opinions, or who was not identified with the cause which they had espoused. to all of these arrangements howard signified his hearty indorsement, and by every means in his power he sought to convince the leaders of his full sympathy with their efforts and his resolve to take a leading part in the struggle that seemed to be impending. accepting the invitation of mr. kane, he one evening accompanied that gentleman to a meeting of one of the secret societies that then existed, the first one he had succeeded in gaining entrance to. arriving at the place of assembly, he was surprised at the many familiar faces which greeted him. men whose aristocratic doors had opened to his entrance and whose social positions were unquestioned; young men who traced their lineage through several generations, and whose wealth and intelligence gave them a social status of no ordinary character, were found in full accord and upon perfect equality with tradesmen, artificers, and even with those whose vocation was decidedly doubtful, and some of whom had heard the key of a prison lock turned upon them for offenses committed in days gone by. the leader and president of this society was a captain fernandina, who was known as one of the most active of the conspirators. this individual at one time occupied the exalted position of a barber at barnum's hotel, but treason and conspiracy had elevated him to the station of a military captain whose orders were to be obeyed, and a leader whose mandates compelled respect. he was an italian or of italian descent, and having lived in the south for a number of years he was thoroughly impressed with the idea of southern wrongs, and that the election of mr. lincoln was an outrage which must not be tamely submitted to by the high-toned and chivalrous people of the south. he was an enthusiast and fanatic, a dangerous man in any crisis, and particularly so in the one now impending, which threatened a civil war and all its direful consequences. educated with italian ideas and possessed of the temperament of his people, he openly justified the use of the stiletto, and fiercely advocated assassination as the means of preventing the president-elect from taking his seat in the executive chair. he was also the captain of a military company which drilled regularly and whose members were believed to fully indorse the views of their chief. at this meeting fernandina delivered an address which, for its treasonable nature and its violent opposition to all laws, human or divine, has scarcely a parallel. he boldly advocated the doctrine of state rights; he fiercely denounced the party who had succeeded in obtaining power; he inveighed in violent language against the policy of the so-called abolitionists, and his arraignment of mr. lincoln was most vile and repulsive. as these words fell from his lips the excitement became intense. faces were eagerly turned towards him, eyes glistened with the fires of hate, and hands were clenched as though each one present was imbued with the same feelings which animated their sanguinary leader. as he proceeded, overcome by the violence of his emotions, he drew from his breast a long, glittering knife, and waving it aloft, exclaimed: "this hireling lincoln shall never, never be president. my life is of no consequence in a cause like this, and i am willing to give it for his. as orsini gave his life for italy, i am ready to die for the rights of the south and to crush out the abolitionist." as he stood before them, his black eyes flashing with excitement, his sallow face pale and colorless and his long hair brushed fiercely back from his low forehead, he seemed a fitting representative of so desperate a cause, and his influence over the assemblage was wonderful to behold. loud cheers and wild clapping of hands greeted his utterances, and all seemed in perfect accord with his declared intentions. there could be no mistaking the fact, that the object of these men was dangerous, and that they had fully determined to oppose and prevent the inauguration of mr. lincoln, but the exact plan of operation had not as yet been agreed upon. upon these facts being conveyed to me by howard on the following morning, i resolved to interview this desperate leader of the conspiracy myself, and endeavor to learn from him further particulars of their movements and designs. in the immediate vicinity of barnum's hotel at that time there was a famous restaurant, popularly known as "guy's," and this place was much frequented by the secessionists who were in the city. fernandina spent much of his time there, either in drinking or in consultation with his numerous political friends, who all seemed to regard him as an important personage, and one who was eventually to perform giant service in the cause. [illustration: "_he must die, and if necessary we will die together!_" p. ] howard having effecting an introduction to fernandina, and convinced him of his devotion to the interests of the south, i experienced no difficulty in obtaining the desired interview. about three o'clock on the following afternoon howard and myself carelessly entered the saloon, and were gratified to perceive that fernandina was also there, accompanied by several members of the military company which he commanded. walking directly up to these gentlemen, howard introduced me as a resident of georgia, who was an earnest worker in the cause of secession, and whose sympathy and discretion could be implicitly relied upon. fernandina cordially grasped my hand, and we all retired to a private saloon, where, after ordering the necessary drinks and cigars, the conversation became general, and to me, absorbingly interesting. the question of assassinating the president was freely discussed, and captain fernandina expressed himself vehemently in its favor. some one in the party remarked: "are there no other means of saving the south except by assassination?" "no," replied fernandina; "as well might you attempt to move the washington monument yonder with your breath, as to change our purpose. he must die--and die he shall. and," he continued, turning to captain trichot, a fellow-conspirator who stood near, "if necessary, we will die together." "there seems to be no other way," interposed howard, "and while bloodshed is to be regretted, it will be done in a noble cause." fernandina gazed approvingly at howard, and then added: "yes, the cause is a noble one, and on that day every captain will prove himself a hero. with the first shot the chief traitor, lincoln, will die, then all maryland will be with us, and the south will be forever free." "but," said i, "have all the plans been matured, and are there no fears of failure? a misstep in so important a direction would be fatal to the south and ought to be well considered." "our plans are fully arranged," answered the captain, "and they cannot fail; and," he added, with a wicked gleam in his eyes--"if i alone must strike the blow, i shall not hesitate or shrink from the task. lincoln shall certainly not depart from this city alive." "yes," added captain trichot, "it is determined that this g--d d--d lincoln shall never pass through here alive, and no d--d abolitionist shall ever set foot upon southern soil except to find a grave." "but about the authorities"--i asked--"is there no danger to be apprehended from them?" "oh, no," said the captain, assuringly, "they are all with us. i have seen col. kane, the chief marshal of police, and he is all right. in a week from to-day the north shall want another president, for lincoln will be a corpse." all the company gave approving responses to these threats, with but one exception, and he remained silent, with a doubtful, troubled expression upon his face. this young man was one of the fast "bloods" of the city, who proudly wore upon his breast a gold palmetto badge, and who was a lieutenant in the palmetto guards, a secret military organization of baltimore, and i determined to select this man for the purpose of obtaining the information i so much desired; and as the company shortly afterwards broke up, howard and myself accompanied lieutenant hill from the saloon. hill soon proved a pliant tool in our hands. being of a weak nature and having been reared in the lap of luxury, he had entered into this movement more from a temporary burst of enthusiasm and because it was fashionable, than from any other cause. now that matters began to assume such a warlike attitude, he was inclined to hesitate before the affair had gone too far, but still he seemed to be enamored with the glory of the undertaking. by my directions howard, the ardent secessionist from louisiana, and hill, of the palmetto guards, became bosom friends and inseparable companions. they drank together, and visited theaters and places of amusement in each other's company. by reason of his high social position hill was enabled to introduce his friend to the leading families and into the most aristocratic clubs and societies of which the city boasted, and howard made many valuable acquaintances through the influence of this rebellious scion of baltimore aristocracy. finally the young man was induced to open to his companion the secrets of the plot to assassinate the president. it was evident, however, that hill was playing his part in the conspiracy with great reluctance, and one day he said to howard: "what a pity it is that this glorious union must be destroyed all on account of that monster lincoln." from hill it was learned that the plans of the conspirators were first to excite and exasperate the popular feeling against mr. lincoln to the utmost, and thus far this had been successfully accompanied. from the published programme mr. lincoln was to reach baltimore from harrisburg by the northern central railroad on the twenty-third day of february, now but a few days distant. he would, therefore, reach the city about the middle of the day. a vast crowd would meet him at the calvert street depot, at which point it was expected that he would enter an open carriage and ride nearly half a mile to the washington depot. here it was arranged that but a small force of policemen should be stationed, and as the president arrived a disturbance would be created which would attract the attention of these guardians of the peace, and this accomplished, it would be an easy task for a determined man to shoot the president, and, aided by his companions, succeed in making his escape. agents of the conspirators had been dispatched to all the principal northern cities, to watch the movements of the presidential party, and ready to telegraph to baltimore any change of route or delay in arrival. a cipher had been agreed upon between them, so that the conspirators could communicate with each other without the possibility of detection, and everything seemed to be satisfactorily arranged except to depute one of their number to commit the fatal deed. this was to be determined by ballot, and as yet no one knew upon whom might devolve the bloody task. meanwhile, the idea of assassination was preying heavily upon the mind of the lieutenant of the palmetto guards; he grew sad and melancholy, and plunged still deeper into dissipation. howard had now become a necessity to him and they were scarcely ever separated. under the influence of the master spirit, the disposition of hill underwent wonderful changes. at times, he would be thoughtful and morose, and then would suddenly break out into enthusiastic rhapsodies. his sleep became tormented with dreams in which he saw himself the martyr to a glorious cause and the savior of his country. at such times he would address himself to howard, in the most extravagant language. "i am destined to die," said he one day, "shrouded with glory. i shall immortalize myself by plunging a knife into lincoln's heart." howard endeavored to calm his transports, but without avail. raising himself to his full height, he exclaimed: "rome had her brutus, why should not we? i swear to you, howard, if it falls to me i will kill lincoln before he reaches the washington depot, not that i love lincoln less, but my country more." as the day drew nearer for the arrival of the president, he became more nervous and excited, and would more frequently indulge in extravagant expressions, which would have been regarded as absurd, but for the fact that he was but one of a large number of fanatics, who seriously entertained the same ideas of murder, and his expressions but the reflex of others, more determined. timothy webster was still at perrymansville, and by this time had fully identified himself with the rebel cause, and the company of cavalry of which he was a member. on several occasions he had given undoubted indications of his loyalty and devotion to the south, and was generally looked upon as a man who could be trusted. he became quite intimate with the officers of the company, and succeeded in gaining their entire confidence. as yet, however, he had learned but little of the important movement which we believed was in contemplation, as all conversations upon that subject appeared to be between the officers of the company, at their secret meetings, to which he had not been able as yet to gain an entrance. at length one morning, after the usual daily drill, and when the company had been dismissed, the captain addressed webster and requested him to be present at his house that evening, as he desired to consult with him upon important affairs, at the same time cautioning him to say nothing to any one concerning the matter. promptly at the time appointed webster presented himself at the residence of the captain, and was ushered into a room upon the upper floor, where there were several men already assembled. the curtains had been drawn close, and heavy quilts had been hung over the windows, which effectually prevented any one from the outside from discovering a light in the room. on his entrance he was introduced to the gentlemen present, three of whom were unknown to him, who were members of the secret league from baltimore, and who were evidently impressed with the solemnity and importance of their undertaking. they greeted webster cordially, however, and made room for him at the table around which they were sitting. a few minutes satisfied webster as to the nature of the meeting, and that it was a conclave of the conspirators, who had met to discuss a plan of action. intensely eager as he was to acquire all possible information, he was obliged to restrain his impetuosity and to listen calmly to the developments that were made. from what transpired that evening there could be no doubt of the desperation of the men engaged in the conspiracy, or of the widespread interest which was taken in their movements. the plans for the assassination of the president had been fully matured, and only needed the selection of the person to perform the deed, in order to carry them into effect. in the meantime, however, other important measures required attention and consideration. if the affair stopped simply with the assassination of the president, but little, if any, good would be accomplished. the north would rise as one man to avenge the death of their leader, and they would only hasten a disaster they were anxious to avoid. it was necessary, therefore, that the work should be thoroughly done, and the plan suggested was as follows: as soon as the deed had been accomplished in baltimore, the news was to be telegraphed along the line of the road, and immediately upon the reception of this intelligence the telegraph wires were to be cut, the railroad bridges destroyed and the tracks torn up, in order to prevent for some time any information being conveyed to the cities of the north, or the passage of any northern men towards the capital. wild as the scheme was, it found instant favor with the reckless men assembled together, and all signified their hearty assent to the propositions and offered their aid in successfully carrying them out. among the most earnest in their protestations was timothy webster, and as he announced his intention to perform his duty in the affair he was warmly congratulated. matters were evidently getting warm, and but little time was left for action. [illustration: "warming up."] chapter iv. _the conspirators in council.--my operative joins the conspiracy._ i had already written to mr. norman b. judd as the party reached cincinnati, informing him that i had reason to believe that there was a plot on foot to murder the president on his passage through baltimore, and promising to advise him further as the party progressed eastward. this information mr. judd did not divulge to any one, fearing to occasion undue anxiety or unnecessary alarm, and knowing that i was upon the ground and could be depended upon to act at the proper time. when the party reached buffalo another note from me awaited mr. judd, informing him of the accumulation of evidence, but conveying no particulars. the party were now journeying towards new york city, and i determined to learn all that there was to learn before many hours. previous to this, in addition to the men engaged in baltimore, i had sent for mrs. kate warne, the lady superintendent of my agency. this lady had arrived several days before, and had already made remarkable progress in cultivating the acquaintance of the wives and daughters of the conspirators. mrs. warne was eminently fitted for this task. of rather a commanding person, with clear-cut, expressive features, and with an ease of manner that was quite captivating at times, she was calculated to make a favorable impression at once. she was of northern birth, but in order to vouch for her southern opinions, she represented herself as from montgomery, alabama, a locality with which she was perfectly familiar, from her connection with the detection of the robbery of the adams express company, at that place. her experience in that case, which is fully detailed in "the expressman and the detective," fully qualified her for the task of representing herself as a resident of the south. she was a brilliant conversationalist when so disposed, and could be quite vivacious, but she also understood that rarer quality in womankind, the art of being silent. the information she received was invaluable, but as yet the meetings of the chief conspirators had not been entered. mrs. warne displayed upon her breast, as did many of the ladies of baltimore, the black and white cockade, which had been temporarily adopted as the emblem of secession, and many hints were dropped in her presence which found their way to my ears, and were of great benefit to me. as i have said, the presidential party were in buffalo, and i had resolved upon prompt and decisive measures to discover the inward workings of the conspirators. accordingly i obtained an interview with howard, and gave him such instructions as i deemed necessary under the circumstances. he was to insist upon hill taking him to the meeting at which the ballots were to be drawn, and where he, too, would have an opportunity to immortalize himself, and then, that being accomplished, the rest would be easy and all further danger would be over. accordingly, that day howard broached the matter to hill in a manner which convinced him of his earnestness, and the young lieutenant promised his utmost efforts to secure his admission. at five o'clock in the afternoon they again met, and hill joyfully informed his companion that his request had been granted, and that, upon his vouching for the fidelity of his friend, he had succeeded in obtaining permission for him to enter their society. that evening howard accompanied his friend hill to the rendezvous of the league, and as they entered the darkened chamber, they found many of the conspirators already assembled. the members were strangely silent, and an ominous awe seemed to pervade the entire assembly. about twenty men comprised the number, but many entered afterward. after a few preliminary movements, howard was conducted to the station of the president of the assembly and duly sworn, the members gathering around him in a circle as this was being done. [illustration: "_howard was conducted to the station of the president, and duly sworn._" p. .] having passed through the required formula, howard was warmly taken by the hand by his associates, many of whom he had met in the polite circles of society. after quiet had been restored, the president, who was none other than captain fernandina, arose, and in a dramatic manner detailed the particulars of the plot. it had been fully determined that the assassination should take place at the calvert street depot. a vast crowd of secessionists were to assemble at that place to await the arrival of the train with mr. lincoln. they would appear early and fill the narrow streets and passages immediately surrounding it. no attempt at secrecy was made of the fact that the marshal of police was conversant with their plans, and that he would detail but a small force of policemen to attend the arrival, and nominally clear and protect a passage for mr. lincoln and his suite. nor was the fact disguised that these policemen were in active sympathy with the movement. george p. kane's animus was fully shown when he was subsequently arrested by general banks, and afterwards became an officer in the rebel army. when the train entered the depot, and mr. lincoln attempted to pass through the narrow passage leading to the streets, a party already delegated were to engage in a conflict on the outside, and then the policemen were to rush away to quell the disturbance. at this moment--the police being entirely withdrawn--mr. lincoln would find himself surrounded by a dense, excited and hostile crowd, all hustling and jamming against him, and then the fatal blow was to be struck. a swift steamer was to be stationed in chesapeake bay, with a boat awaiting upon the shore, ready to take the assassin on board as soon as the deed was done, and convey him to a southern port, where he would be received with acclamations of joy and honored as a hero. the question to be decided this evening was: "who should do the deed?" "who should assume the task of liberating the nation of the foul presence of the abolitionist leader?" for this purpose the meeting had been called to-night, and to-night the important decision was to be reached. it was finally determined that ballots should be prepared and placed in a box arranged for that purpose, and that the person who drew a _red_ ballot should perform the duty of assassination. in order that none should know who drew the fatal ballot, except he who did so, the room was rendered still darker, and every one was pledged to secrecy as to the color of the ballot he drew. the leaders, however, had determined that their plans should not fail, and doubting the courage of some of their number, instead of placing but _one red ballot_ in the box, they placed _eight_ of the designated color, and these eight ballots were drawn--each man who drew them believing that upon him, his courage, strength and devotion, depended the cause of the south--each supposing that he alone was charged with the execution of the deed. after the ballots had been drawn the president again addressed the assembly. he violently assailed the enemies of the south, and in glowing words pointed out the glory that awaited the man who would prove himself the hero upon this great occasion, and finally, amid much restrained enthusiasm, the meeting adjourned, and their duties had thus far been accomplished. my time for action had now arrived; my plans had been perfected and i resolved to act at once. taking mrs. warne with me i reached new york city on the same day that the presidential party arrived there, and leaving mrs. warne to perfect arrangements, i proceeded at once to philadelphia. that evening mrs. warne repaired to the astor house and requested an interview with mr. judd. her request being granted, mrs. warne informed that gentleman, that, fearing to trust the mail in so important a matter, she had been delegated by me to arrange for a personal interview, at which all the proofs relating to the conspiracy could be submitted to him. it was suggested that immediately after the arrival of the party in philadelphia, i should inform mr. judd of my plans for an interview, and that he would be governed accordingly. while they were conversing, col. e. s. sandford, president of the american telegraph company, called, and was introduced by mrs. warne to mr. judd. this gentleman had been made fully acquainted with what i had learned, and had promised all the assistance within his power, and he accordingly tendered to mr. judd his own personal service and the unlimited use of the telegraph lines under his control, for any communications he might desire to make. on arriving at philadelphia, i proceeded directly to the office of mr. felton, and acquainted him with all the information i had received, of the designs of the conspirators with regard to mr. lincoln, and of their intention to destroy the railroad should their plot be successful. the situation was truly alarming, and cautious measures were absolutely necessary. it was therefore resolved to obtain an interview with mr. lincoln, submit the facts to him, and be governed by his suggestions, whatever they might be. this interview took place on the th day of february, and mr. lincoln was expected to arrive on the following day. great preparations had been made for his reception, and the military, of which philadelphia was justly proud, were to escort the president-elect from the depot to the continental hotel, where quarters had been engaged for him, and where he would receive the congratulations of the people. chapter v. _the presidential party arrives in philadelphia.--independence hall.--the departure from harrisburg.--telegraph wires cut.--through the lines of treason and safe arrival at washington._ the twenty-first dawned bright and sunny, and the streets were alive with the eager populace, all anxious to do honor to the new president, and to witness the scenes attendant upon his reception. in due time the train containing the party arrived, and after an informal welcome they took carriages, and, escorted by the troops, the procession took up the line of march for the hotel. vast crowds lined the sidewalks and the enthusiasm of the people was unbounded. the president graciously acknowledged their courtesies as he passed along. on each side of the carriage in which mr. lincoln was seated, accompanied by mr. judd, was a file of policemen, whose duty it was to prevent the mass of people from pressing too closely to the vehicle. as the procession reached the corner of broad and chestnut streets, a young man approached the file of policemen and endeavored to attract the attention of the occupants of the carriage. finding this impossible, he boldly plunged through the ranks of the officers, and coming to the side of the carriage, he handed to mr. judd a slip of paper, on which was written: "_st. louis hotel, ask for j. h. hutchinson._" this young man was mr. george h. burns, an attaché of the american telegraph company and confidential agent of e. s. sandford, esq., who acted as my messenger, and who afterwards distinguished himself for his courage and daring in the rebellion. it is needless to add that j. h. hutchinson was the name i had assumed in registering at the hotel, in order to avoid any suspicion or curiosity in case any emissary of the conspirators should ascertain my real name and thus be warned of the discovery of their scheme. shortly after the arrival of mr. lincoln at the continental, mr. judd was announced at the st. louis hotel as desiring to see me. mr. felton was with me at the time, and in a few minutes mr. judd made his appearance. more than an hour was occupied in going over the proofs which i produced of the existence of the conspiracy, at the end of which time mr. judd expressed himself fully convinced that the plot was a reality, and that prompt measures were required to secure the safety of the president. "my advice is," said i, after i had succeeded in convincing mr. judd that my information was reliable, "that mr. lincoln shall proceed to washington this evening by the eleven o'clock train, and then once safe at the capital, general scott and his soldiery will afford him ample protection." "i fear very much that mr. lincoln will not accede to this," replied mr. judd; "but as the president is an old acquaintance and friend of yours and has had occasion before this to test your reliability and prudence, suppose you accompany me to the continental hotel, and we can then lay this information before him in person and abide by his decision." this idea was at once adopted and we proceeded to the hotel. here we found the entrances blocked up by a surging multitude which effectually prevented our admission, and we were obliged to enter by the rear of the building through a door used by the servants. on reaching the room occupied by mr. judd that gentleman summoned mr. nicolay, the president's private secretary, and dispatched him with a note requesting the presence of mr. lincoln upon a matter of urgent importance. the president at that time was in one of the large parlors surrounded by a number of ladies and gentlemen, all eager to extend to him the hospitalities of the city and to express their good wishes for the success of his administration. upon receiving the message, however, he at once excused himself, and forcing his way through the crowd came directly to us. up to this time mr. lincoln had been kept in entire ignorance of any threatened danger, and as he listened to the facts that were now presented to him, a shade of sadness fell upon his face. he seemed loth to credit the statement, and could scarce believe it possible that such a conspiracy could exist. slowly he went over the points presented, questioning me minutely the while, but at length finding it impossible to discredit the truthfulness of what i stated to him, he yielded a reluctant credence to the facts. after he had been fully made acquainted with the startling disclosures, mr. judd submitted to him the plan proposed by me, that he should leave philadelphia for washington that evening. "but," added mr. judd, "the proofs that have just been laid before you cannot be published, as it will involve the lives of several devoted men now on mr. pinkerton's force, especially that of timothy webster, who is now serving in a rebel cavalry company under drill at perrymansville in maryland." mr. lincoln at once acknowledged the correctness of this view, but appeared at a loss as to what course to pursue. "you will therefore perceive"--continued mr. judd--"that if you follow the course suggested--that of proceeding to washington to-night--you will necessarily be subjected to the scoffs and sneers of your enemies, and the disapproval of your friends who cannot be made to believe in the existence of so desperate a plot." "i fully appreciate these suggestions," replied mr. lincoln, "and i can stand anything that is necessary, but," he added rising to his feet, "i cannot go to-night. i have promised to raise the flag over independence hall to-morrow morning, and to visit the legislature at harrisburg in the afternoon--beyond that i have no engagements. any plan that may be adopted that will enable me to fulfill these promises i will accede to, and you can inform me what is concluded upon to-morrow." saying which mr. lincoln left the room and joined the people in the parlor. during the entire interview, he had not evinced the slightest evidence of agitation or fear. calm and self-possessed, his only sentiments appeared to be those of profound regret, that the southern sympathizers could be so far led away by the excitement of the hour, as to consider his death a necessity for the furtherance of their cause. from his manner, it was deemed useless to attempt to induce him to alter his mind, and after a few minutes' further conversation, which was participated in by mr. sandford, who had entered the room, i left for the purpose of finding thomas a. scott, esq., the vice-president of the pennsylvania central railroad, in order to make arrangements for the carrying out of a plan which had occurred to me, and which would enable mr. lincoln to fulfill his engagements. i was unable, however, to find mr. scott, but succeeded in reaching mr. g. c. franciscus, the general manager of the road, and at twelve o'clock that night, in company with that gentleman and mr. sandford, we called again upon mr. judd. at this meeting a full discussion of the entire matter was had between us, and after all possible contingencies had been considered, the following programme was agreed upon. after the formal reception at harrisburg had taken place, a special train, consisting of a baggage-car and one passenger-coach, should leave there at six o'clock p. m. to carry mr. lincoln and one companion back to philadelphia; this train was to be under the immediate control of mr. franciscus and mr. enoch lewis, the general superintendent. in order to avoid the possibility of accident, the track was to be cleared of everything between harrisburg and philadelphia from half-past five o'clock until after the passage of the special train. mr. felton was to detain the eleven o'clock p. m. baltimore train until the arrival of the special train from harrisburg, mrs. warne in the meantime engaging berths in the sleeping-car bound for baltimore. [illustration: "_mr. lincoln raising the flag on independence hall._" p. ] i was to remain in philadelphia in order that no accident might occur in conveying the president from one depot to another, and mr. judd was to manage the affair at harrisburg. everything that could be suggested in relation to this matter was fully considered, and having at length perfected our plans, the party separated at half-past four o'clock in the morning, fully prepared to carry out the programme agreed upon. at six o'clock on the morning of the d, a vast concourse of people assembled in front of independence hall on chestnut street, and at precisely the hour appointed, mr. lincoln made his appearance. with his own hands he drew to the top of the staff surmounting the edifice a beautiful new american flag, and as its stripes and stars floated out gracefully to the breeze, the air was rent with the shouts of the multitude and the music of the band. mr. lincoln's speech upon this occasion was the most impressive and characteristic of any which he had delivered upon his journey to the capital, while a tinge of sadness pervaded his remarks, never noticed before, and which were occasioned no doubt by the revelations of the preceding night. he gave a most eloquent expression to the emotions and associations which were suggested by the day and by the historic old hall where he then stood. he declared that all his political sentiments were drawn from the inspired utterances of those who had sat within the walls of that ancient edifice. he alluded most feelingly to the dangers and toils and sufferings of those who had adopted and made good the declaration of independence--a declaration which gave promise that "in due time the weight would be lifted from the shoulders of all men." conscious of the dangers that threatened his country, and feeling also that those dangers originated in opposition to the principles enunciated in the declaration of independence, knowing that his own life was even then threatened because of his devotion to liberty, and that his way to the national capital was beset by assassins, he did not hesitate to declare boldly and fearlessly "that he would rather be assassinated on the spot than surrender those principles" so dear to him. after these proceedings, mr. lincoln was driven back to the continental hotel, and sending for mr. judd, he introduced him to mr. frederick h. seward, a son of the late william h. seward, who was in the room with the president. mr. lincoln then informed mr. judd that mr. seward had been sent from washington by his father and general scott to warn him of the danger of passing through baltimore, and to urge him to come direct to washington. from whom this information was originally obtained did not appear, but the facts were deemed of sufficient moment to be brought to the ears of the president, and hence mr. seward's visit to philadelphia. mr. lincoln evinced no further hesitancy in the matter, and signified his readiness to do whatever was required of him. mr. judd then directed mr. seward to inform his father that all had been arranged, and that, so far as human foresight could predict, mr. lincoln would be in washington before the evening of the following day, and cautioned him to preserve the utmost secrecy in regard to the matter. no particulars were given and none were asked. at the time appointed mr. lincoln started for harrisburg, and i busied myself with the preparations that were necessary to successfully carry our plans into operation. from reports which i received from baltimore, the excitement in that city had grown more intense, and the arrival of the president was awaited with the most feverish impatience. the common and accepted belief was that mr. lincoln would journey from harrisburg to baltimore over the northern central railroad, and the plans of the conspirators were arranged accordingly. it became a matter of the utmost importance, therefore, that no intimation of our movements should reach that city. i had no doubt but that trusty agents of the conspirators were following the presidential party, and after the absence of mr. lincoln had been discovered, the telegraph would be put into active operation to apprise the movers of this scheme of the change that had been made. to effectually prevent this i determined that the telegraph wires which connected harrisburg with her neighboring cities should be so "fixed" as to render communication impossible. to arrange this matter capt. burns was sent to the office of the american telegraph company, and obtaining from mr. h. e. thayer, the manager of the company, a competent and trustworthy man for the purpose, departed for harrisburg, in order to carry out the proposed measures. mr. thayer, in the meantime, was to remain in the office during the night, in order to intercept any dispatches that might be sent over the wires from any point between harrisburg and baltimore, and to immediately deliver any messages that might be sent to me. mr. w. p. westervelt, the superintendent, and mr. andrew wynne, the line-man of the telegraph company, were delegated to harrisburg to "fix" the wires leading from that place in such a manner as to prevent any communication from passing over them, and to report to capt. burns upon their arrival. after the train containing mr. lincoln and his party had left philadelphia, mr. judd sought the first favorable opportunity of conversing with mr. lincoln alone, and fully detailed to him the plan that had been agreed upon, all of which met with the hearty approval of the president, who signified a cheerful willingness to adapt himself to the novel circumstances. it was evident, from the manner of several of the gentlemen of the party, that they suspected something was transpiring of which they had not been advised, but they all very judiciously refrained from asking any questions. mr. judd, however, who felt the responsibility of his position, finally suggested to mr. lincoln the propriety and advisability of informing them of what had taken place, and of consulting with them upon the proper carrying out of the contemplated journey. to this mr. lincoln yielded a ready assent, adding, with an amused smile: "i suppose they will laugh at us, judd, but i think you had better get them together." it was therefore arranged that after the reception at the state house had taken place, and before they sat down to dinner, the matter should be fully laid before the following gentlemen of the party: judge david davis, col. sumner, major david hunter, capt. john pope and ward h. lamon, esq. mr. lincoln arrived at harrisburg at noon, and was introduced to the people from the balcony of the jones house, where an address was delivered by gov. andrew g. curtin, whose fame became widespread during the dark days of the rebellion that followed, as the "war governor of pennsylvania." from the hotel the party proceeded to the house of representatives, where he was welcomed by the speaker, to which he replied in a few well-chosen words. after a short time spent in congratulations and hand-shaking they returned to the hotel, and the gentlemen who have been previously named were invited (in company with the governor) to confer with the president in the parlor. at this meeting the information of the discovery of the plot to assassinate the president was laid before them, and also the details of the proposed journey to washington. after the matter had been fully explained, a great diversity of opinion manifested itself among the gentlemen present, and some warm discussion was indulged in. finally, judge davis, who had expressed no opinion upon the subject as yet, addressed the president, saying: "well, mr. lincoln, what is your own judgment upon this matter?" "i have thought over this matter considerably since i went over the ground with mr. pinkerton last night," answered mr. lincoln, "and the appearance of mr. frederick seward, with warning from another source, confirms my belief in mr. pinkerton's statement; therefore, unless there are some other reasons than a fear of ridicule, i am disposed to carry out mr. judd's plan." judge davis turned to the others, and said: "that settles the matter, gentlemen." "so be it," exclaimed col. sumner. "it is against my judgment, but i have undertaken to go to washington with mr. lincoln, and i shall do it." mr. judd endeavored in vain to convince the gallant old soldier that every additional person only added to the risk, but the fiery spirit of the veteran was aroused and debate was useless. having arranged the matter thus satisfactorily the party, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, repaired to the dining-room for dinner. all the preliminaries had now been successfully arranged. the special train, ostensibly to take the officers of the railroad company back to philadelphia, was waiting upon a side track just outside of the town. the telegraph operators had performed their work admirably. walking out of the city nearly two miles, mr. wynne climbed the poles and placing fine copper ground wires upon the regular lines, the city was soon entirely isolated from her neighbors. no message could possibly be sent from harrisburg, and the capital of pennsylvania was cut off temporarily from the rest of the world. the preparations in philadelphia had also been fully made. mrs. warne had succeeded in engaging the rear half of a sleeping-car for the accommodation of her invalid brother, and that portion of the car was to be entirely separated from the rest by a curtain, so arranged that no one in the forward part of the car would be aware of the occupants of the same coach. in order to detain the baltimore train until the arrival of mr. lincoln, the conductor was directed not to start his train until he received personal instructions to that effect from mr. h. f. kinney, the superintendent, who would hand him an important parcel, which president felton desired should be delivered early on the following morning to mr. e. j. allen at willard's hotel, in washington. (e. j. allen was the nom-de-plume i generally used when on detective operations.) at a quarter to six o'clock everything was in readiness. a carriage was in waiting at the side entrance of the hotel, and the entire party were still at the table. a message was delivered to the president by mr. nicolay, and upon receiving it, he immediately arose, and, accompanied by mr. curtin, mr. lamon and mr. judd, he left the dining-room. mr. lincoln exchanged his dinner dress for a traveling suit, and soon returned with a shawl upon his arm and a soft felt hat protruding from his coat pocket. the halls, stairways and pavement were filled with a mass of people, who, seeing the president in company with the governor, at once imagined that they were going to the executive mansion, where a reception was to be held in the evening. mr. judd whispered to mr. lamon to proceed in advance, adding: "as soon as mr. lincoln is in the carriage, drive off." as the party, consisting of mr. lincoln, governor curtin, and mr. lamon, entered the carriage, col. sumner attempted to follow them, but mr. judd gently put his hand upon the old gentleman's shoulder, and as he turned quickly around to inquire what was wanted, the carriage was driven rapidly away. [illustration: "_the party, consisting of mr. lincoln, governor curtin and mr. lamon, entered the carriage._" p. .] thus far everything had passed off admirably, and in a short time mr. lincoln was upon the special train, accompanied only by mr. lamon and the railroad officials, and speeding along toward philadelphia. without accident the party arrived at the quaker city shortly after ten o'clock, where i was waiting with a carriage, in company with mr. kinney. without a word mr. lincoln, mr. lamon and myself entered the vehicle, while mr. kinney seated himself alongside of the driver, and we proceeded directly to the depot of the philadelphia, wilmington and baltimore railroad. driving up to the sidewalk on carpenter street, and in the shadow of a tall fence, the carriage was stopped and the party alighted. as we approached the train, mrs. warne came forward, and, familiarly greeting the president as her brother, we entered the sleeping-car by the rear door without unnecessary delay, and without any one being aware of the distinguished passenger who had arrived. a carefully inclosed package, which resembled a formidable official document, but which contained only some neatly folded daily papers, was placed in the hands of the unsuspecting conductor--the whistle sounded, and soon the train was in motion, whirling on towards the capital of the nation. so carefully had all our movements been conducted, that no one in philadelphia saw mr. lincoln enter the car, and no one on the train, except his own immediate party--not even the conductor, knew of his presence, and the president, feeling fatigued from the labors and the journeys of the day, at once retired to his berth. in order to prevent the possibility of accident, i had arranged with my men a series of signals along the road. it was barely possible that the work of destroying the railroad might be attempted by some reckless individuals, or that a suspicion of our movements might be entertained by the conspirators, and therefore, the utmost caution must be observed. as the train approached havre de grace, i went to the rear platform of the car, and as the train passed on a bright light flashed suddenly upon my gaze and was as quickly extinguished, and then i knew that thus far all was well. from this point all the way to baltimore, at every bridge-crossing these lights flashed, and their rays carried the comforting assurance "all's well!" we reached baltimore at about half-past three o'clock in the morning, and as the train rumbled into the depot an officer of the road entered the car and whispered in my ear the welcome words "all's well!" the city was in profound repose as we passed through. darkness and silence reigned over all. perhaps, at this moment, however, the reckless conspirators were astir perfecting their plans for a tragedy as infamous as any which has ever disgraced a free country--perhaps even now the holders of the _red_ ballots were nerving themselves for their part in the dreadful work, or were tossing restlessly upon sleepless couches. be that as it may, our presence in baltimore was entirely unsuspected, and as the sleeping-car in which we were, was drawn by horses through the streets from the philadelphia, wilmington and baltimore depot, until we reached the washington station, no sign of life was apparent in the great slumbering city. at the depot, however, a number of people were gathered, awaiting the arrival and departure of the various trains, and here the usual bustle and activity were manifested. we were compelled to remain here fully two hours, owing to the detention of the train from the west, and during that time, mr. lincoln remained quietly in his berth, joking with rare good humor with those around him. ever and anon some snatches of rebel harmony would reach our ears, as they were rather discordantly sung by the waiting passengers in and around the depot. "my maryland" and "dixie" appeared to be the favorites, and once, after an intoxicated individual had roared through one stanza of the latter song, mr. lincoln turned quietly and rather sadly to me and said: "no doubt there will be a great time in dixie by and by." how prophetic his words were, the succeeding years too fully proved. at length the train arrived and we proceeded on our way, arriving in washington about six o'clock in the morning. mr. lincoln wrapped his traveling shawl about his shoulders, and in company with mr. lamon, started to leave the car. i followed close behind, and on the platform found two of my men awaiting our arrival. a great many people were gathered about the depot, but mr. lincoln entirely escaped recognition, until as we were about leaving the depot, mr. washburne, of illinois, came up and cordially shook him by the hand. the surprise of this gentleman was unbounded, and many of those standing around, observing his movements, and the tall form of mr. lincoln exciting curiosity, i feared that danger might result in case he was recognized at this time. i accordingly went up to them hurriedly, and pressing between them whispered rather loudly: "no talking here!" mr. washburne gazed inquiringly at me, and was about to resent my interference, when mr. lincoln interposed: "that is mr. pinkerton, and everything is all right." thus satisfied, mr. washburne quickly led the way to a carriage in waiting outside, where we met mr. seward, who warmly greeted the president, and then the party were rapidly driven down pennsylvania avenue to willard's hotel--i following closely behind them with my men, in another vehicle. [illustration: "_the safe arrival at washington._" p. .] on his arrival at the hotel mr. lincoln was warmly greeted by his friends, who were rejoiced at his safe arrival, and leaving him in the hands of those whose fealty was undoubted, i withdrew, and engaged temporary quarters at another hotel. during the forenoon i received a note from mr. lincoln requesting an interview, and received his warm expressions of thankfulness for the part i had performed in securing his safety, after which, finding that my object had been fully accomplished, i took the train and returned to baltimore. here i found the utmost excitement prevailing. the news of the safe arrival of mr. lincoln had already reached there, and a general sentiment of rage and disappointment pervaded the entire circle of conspirators and secessionists. i lost no time in securing an interview with howard, and learned from him the particulars attendant upon the discovery that mr. lincoln had outwitted his enemies and was now safely quartered in washington. finding that their plans had been discovered, and fearing that the vengeance of the government would overtake them, the leading conspirators had suddenly disappeared. all their courage and bravado was gone, and now, like the miserable cowards that they were, they had sought safety in flight. a curious episode occurred at harrisburg immediately after the departure of mr. lincoln from that city. two newspaper correspondents connected with prominent new york journals had accompanied the party from springfield, and had faithfully noted the incidents which had occurred upon the journey. as soon as the train which carried mr. lincoln away from harrisburg was on its way, a gentlemanly individual, _well-known to me_, went to the room occupied by these journalists, and found them engaged in preparations to witness the further proceedings of the presidential party. the visitor quickly informed the gentlemen that mr. lincoln had left the city and was now flying over the road in the direction of washington, which he would no doubt reach in the morning. this was the signal for renewed activity, and both gentlemen hastily arose, and, grasping their hats, started for the door. their visitor however, was too quick for them, and standing before the door with a revolver in each hand, he addressed them: "you cannot leave this room, gentlemen, without my permission!" "what does this mean?" inquired one of the surprised gentlemen, blinking through his spectacles. "it means that you cannot leave this room until the safety of mr. lincoln justifies it," calmly replied the other. "i want to telegraph to the _herald_," said the second correspondent--"what is the use of obtaining news if we cannot utilize it?" "you cannot utilize anything at present, gentlemen. the telegraph will not be of any service to you, for the wires are all down, and harrisburg will be separated from the rest of the world for some hours yet." "when do you propose to let us out?" humbly asked one. "well, i'll tell you, gentlemen. if you will sit down calmly, and bide your time and mine, i will make matters interesting for you, by informing you all about this flank movement on the baltimoreans." their indignation and fright subsided at once, and they quietly sat down. refreshments were sent for, and soon the nimble pencils of the reporters were rapidly jotting down as much of the information as was deemed advisable to be made public at that time. after they had heard all, they prepared their dispatches for new york, both correspondents writing long and interesting accounts of the affair. when daylight dawned, and the gladsome tidings had been received that mr. lincoln was safe, these knights of the quill were liberated, and, rushing to the telegraph offices, which were now in running order again, the news was transmitted to new york and in less than an hour the types were being set which would convey to the public the startling news of the discovered conspiracy, and the manner in which the conspirators had been outwitted. as the later train arrived at baltimore, i went to the depot and found the remaining members of the president's party, who also brought mrs. lincoln with them. mr. judd was jubilant at the success of the adventure, but col. sumner had not yet recovered his good humor. i have no doubt, however, that mr. lincoln succeeded in placating his irascible friend, and i know that in the bloody scenes which followed col. sumner bore an honorable and courageous part. thus ends the narration of this important episode in one of the most interesting epochs of the country's history, and a truthful record has been given. exaggerated stories and unauthorized statements have been freely made with regard to this journey of mr. lincoln. the caricaturist has attempted to throw ridicule upon the great man who now sleeps in a martyr's grave. a silly story of his being disguised in a scotch cap and plaid obtained a temporary currency, but the fact remains that mr. lincoln, as a gentleman, and in the company of gentlemen, successfully passed through the camp of the conspirators and reached in safety the capital of the country. now the war is ended. peace reigns throughout the borders of the great republic. and when, during the last dying throes of the rebellion, this great man was stricken down by the hand of an assassin, north and south alike united in lamenting his death, and in execrating the damnable deed and its reckless perpetrators. i had informed mr. lincoln in philadelphia that i would answer with my life for his safe arrival in washington, and i had redeemed my pledge. [illustration: a camp song.] chapter vi. _my connection with the rebellion.--timothy webster accepts a mission._ my connection with the "great rebellion" of began almost from the inception of that gigantic struggle. during the days that intervened between the inauguration of abraham lincoln and the memorable th day of april, , treason was busy in the south, and secession resolved itself into an accomplished fact. scarcely had the reverberating tones of the guns upon the batteries in charleston harbor died away upon the air, than i was called into the service of the military branch of the government. at that time i was engaged in the energetic practice of my profession as a detective, which, large as it was, and constantly increasing, required a personal supervision, which absorbed my undivided attention. when, however, it became evident that a conflict was unavoidable, i soon found my services were needed, and putting aside all considerations of a private or business nature, i yielded a ready and cheerful response to the call, and during my connection with what was afterwards known as the secret service of the government, i rendered every assistance that lay in my power to further the cause of union, and to serve the country of my adoption. the month of april, , was an important one in the history of the country. whatever fears and apprehensions had filled the minds of the northern people as to the solution of the great political questions then pending, a resort to arms had, until that time, been regarded as not likely to occur. a people who had been reared amid the blessings of a long and undisturbed peace, and whose lives, under this benign influence, had been prosperous and happy, they were almost entirely unprepared for a serious contest or a warlike struggle. many times before the political horizon had grown dark and threatening, but the storm had subsided almost instantly, under that wise yielding of obedience to law and to the will of majorities, which it was hoped would now exercise its power for the preservation and continuance of amity. when, therefore, on the th of april, the attack upon fort sumter in charleston harbor was made, the northern people were almost startled by surprise. though entirely unprepared for such an event, it was clearly demonstrated to all that war could now no longer be honorably avoided. it was now too late to inquire into original causes of the contest; it remained only for the loyal heart to resent the insult to a nation's flag, and to sustain the government in upholding its constitution and in enforcing its laws. this act fired the patriotic heart and solidified the patriotic ranks, and, with the crumbling of the walls upon fort sumter, were shattered all the hopes previously entertained of a peaceful solution of the problems which were then before the country. i have very little doubt that the assault upon fort sumter was ordered by the rebel government, under the fallacious hope and groundless belief that it would not provoke immediate or widespread civil war. the southern leaders were well aware of the fact that the frontier could not be entirely stripped of regulars, and assuming, or pretending to, that the existing laws contained no provision authorizing a call of the militia, they inferred that it would be difficult for the new administration to obtain at once legislation of a coercive character. then, too, they relied, in a great measure, upon a friendly feeling toward the south from their late political associates in the north; but in this their reckoning was at fault, and the roar of beauregard's guns in charleston harbor cleared up the political horizon as if by magic. there could no longer be any doubt as to the position and intentions of the confederates. seven disloyal states, with all their machinery of a separate government, stood behind those batteries, and the cool deliberation of the assault gave evidence of plan, of purpose and of confidence. what had been believed to be a mere conspiracy for the gaining of certain political ends, now gave way to a revolution, which menaced the perpetuity of the government and which required the armed force of the government to combat and subdue. the news of the assault upon sumter reached washington on saturday, the th day of april, and on the following day, sunday though it was, president lincoln assembled his cabinet to discuss the duty of the hour, and on monday morning a proclamation was issued, calling forth an army of seventy-five thousand men, for objects entirely lawful and constitutional. the effect of this proclamation upon the people of the north was almost electrical, and the heart of the whole nation throbbed with its patriotic emotions as that of a single individual. the general sentiment appeared to be in entire accord with the utterance of stephen a. douglas, a live-long democrat, that "every man must be for the united states, or against it; there can be no neutrals in this war--only patriots and traitors." more than double the number of men that were required tendered their services, and before the lapse of forty-eight hours armed companies and regiments of volunteers were in motion toward the expected border of conflict. nor was there exhibited that division of northern sentiment that had been so boastfully predicted by the southern leaders, and all men, of every belief, democrats and republicans, conservatives and radicals, natives and foreigners, from maine to oregon, responded to the call, and came to the defense of the constitution, the government and the union. at this time the position of maryland was rather a precarious one. there could be no doubt that the unionists were greatly in the majority, but it was also true that there was a large and influential minority of her people in favor of secession. here, as elsewhere, conspiracy had been at work for months, and many of the prominent political leaders were in full accord with the rebel government. the legislature was believed to be unreliable, and treason had obtained so firm a foothold in the populous city of baltimore, that a secret recruiting office was sending enlisted men to charleston. the venomous germ of treason, once planted, grew in magnitude and virulence, until it finally culminated in the infamous riot of april th, when the blood of the citizen soldiery of massachusetts was first shed in defense of the union. a spirit of opposition to the passage of northern troops through the city, on their way to the seat of government, had been engendered among the "rough" element of baltimore, and the excitement reached its climax upon the arrival of the sixth massachusetts regiment, which was the first to answer the call for troops. when their presence became known the traitorous element could no longer be restrained, and while the men were passing quietly through the city, on their way from one railroad station to another, they were murderously attacked by a reckless, howling mob, which resulted in bloodshed and carnage, and some of the most fiendish outrages were perpetrated that ever blackened a page of american history. the crowning act of disloyalty, and one which threatened the most serious consequences to the government, was committed about midnight of the same day. a secret order was issued by the mayor and police officers to burn the nearest bridges on the railroads leading into baltimore from the free states, and parties, under the command of the police authorities were dispatched to execute the order. before daylight the following morning, the bridges at melvale, relay house and cockeysville, on the harrisburg road and over the bush and gunpowder rivers and harris creek, were completely destroyed by fire, thus effectually severing railroad communication with the north. the telegraph wires leading to and from the capital were also cut, completely shutting off washington, and the government from the loyal northern states. these acts, committed by the orders of the very men who that morning had risked their lives in defending the soldiers of the union, are sufficient to show the rapid and overmastering influence of revolutionary madness. of course, the news of these outrages spread far and wide over the country, and while they aroused universal indignation, they nevertheless were the occasion of grave fears for the safety of the capital. it was on the st of april, two days after the occurrence of these events that my services were required. several gentlemen of prominence in chicago, intimate friends of president lincoln, and men of influence and intelligence in the state, desired to communicate with the president upon questions connected with the existing condition of affairs, and applied to me for the purpose of having letters and dispatches conveyed directly to washington by the hands of a trusty messenger. i at once accepted the duty, and selected a man for its performance. experience proved that i was not mistaken in my selection, and as the messenger chosen for this duty is to bear an important part in the event, which i am about to relate, a description of him will at once acquaint the reader with his personal appearance. he was a tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking man of about forty years of age. in height he was about five feet ten inches; his brown hair, which was brushed carelessly back from a broad, high forehead, surmounted a face of a character to at once attract attention. there was such a decided mixture of sternness and amiability, of innate force and gentle feelings, of frankness and resolution stamped upon his features, that he instinctively impressed the beholder at a glance. the deep gray eyes could twinkle and sparkle with good humor, or they would grow dark and menacing, and seem to flash under the influence of anger. the mouth, almost concealed by the heavy brown mustaches which he wore, and the square, firm chin evinced a firmness that was unmistakable. his nose, large and well-formed, and the prominent cheek bones all seemed in perfect harmony with the bold spirit which leaped from the eyes, and the strong will that lurked about the set lips. in figure, he was rather stout, but his shoulders were so broad, his feet and hands so shapely, and the lithe limbs so well formed, that he did not appear of as full habit as he really was. a casual observer on meeting this man would almost immediately and insensibly be impressed with the conviction that he was a man who could be trusted; that any duty devolving upon him would be sacredly kept; and as he stood before me on this sunny afternoon in april, i felt that i could implicitly rely upon him in any emergency in which he might be placed, and to perform any service for which he might be selected. this man was timothy webster, a faithful officer, a true friend, and an ardent patriot. i had known this man for years. he had been in my employ for a long time, and had been engaged upon operations of a varied and diverse nature, consequently i knew precisely what his capabilities were, and how entirely he could be trusted. though not a man of great enlightenment, he was gifted with a large amount of natural shrewdness, which enabled him to successfully meet any emergency which might arise. from his association with people in the various walks of life, he had acquired that habit of easy adaptation which made him appear, and feel, perfectly at home in almost any society, whether in the drawing-room or the tavern, in the marts of trade, or laboring at the plow. from my knowledge of timothy webster, and my confidence in his wisdom and reliability, i had chosen him to be the bearer of the dispatches to mr. lincoln. i therefore called him into my office and explained to him the nature of the duties he was to perform, the possible dangers he would encounter, and the importance of the trust that was to be reposed in him, and when i had concluded, i asked: "timothy, knowing what you do of the task before you, will you undertake its performance?" "i understand all perfectly," he replied, drawing himself up to his full height, while his eyes flashed with a patriotic fire, "i know that my country demands my services, and that, if it shall cost me my life, i am ready to perform my full duty." the preparations for his departure did not occupy a very long time; the services of miss kate warne, my female superintendent, were requested, and in a few minutes the important dispatches, some twelve in number, were securely sewed between the linings of his coat collar, and in the body of his waistcoat, and timothy webster was on his way to the capital of the country. [illustration: a colored contraband] chapter vii. _webster on his way to the capital.--wrecked trains and broken bridges.--an adventure with a cavalryman.--rebel emissary.--president lincoln and timothy webster._ everywhere along the route the greatest excitement prevailed, and the people were in a state of wildest commotion. a rumor had spread throughout the country that the government, indignant at the riotous conduct of the baltimoreans, had ordered the guns of fort mchenry to fire upon the city, that the bombardment was now going on, and that half the town was reduced to ashes. this rumor was false, as webster learned on arriving in philadelphia, although even in the staid old quaker city there was manifest a degree of excitement scarcely to be expected in a community so sedate and easy-going as philadelphians usually are. leaving the train at philadelphia, webster made his way through the crowded streets to the center of the city. he deemed it best to take counsel with some of the railroad and express officials, with whom he was very well acquainted, by reason of his connection with the discovery of the conspiracy to assassinate president lincoln in baltimore in the month of february immediately preceding. at that time webster had been enrolled as a member of a volunteer company of cavalry at perrymansville, in maryland, and, gaining the confidence of his officers, had assisted in discovering the plans of the conspirators, and partly through his efforts, i had been successful in frustrating their murderous designs. this operation had brought him in close association with several gentlemen who were connected with the railroad and express companies, whose travel lay between philadelphia and the now riotous and isolated city of baltimore. as he was walking leisurely down chestnut street he was accosted by mr. dunn, a gentleman who was connected with a leading express company in the city, and who was now upon his return from a visit to the philadelphia, wilmington and baltimore depot. after an interchange of salutations, webster inquired of mr. dunn the condition of affairs in and around baltimore. "very bad, indeed," replied that gentleman; "the bridges are all down, and the tracks have been torn up all along the road from perrysville to baltimore. the telegraph-wires have been cut, and no communications have been received from baltimore or washington except through couriers. the roads are guarded with soldiery, whose sympathies are with the rebellion, and it is almost impossible for any one who cannot identify himself as a southern man to pass the guards who are stationed along the highways." "it does not look very favorable for my reaching washington to-morrow, then?" said webster, inquiringly. "no, sir. i am afraid that you will find it difficult, if not dangerous, to attempt such a journey, particularly by the way of baltimore; and perhaps you had better delay your departure until it can be more safely accomplished," said mr. dunn. "it may be as you say," replied webster, "but i left chicago for washington, and my line of travel was laid out through baltimore. i will obey my orders to the letter, and i will arrive in washington to-morrow night, or lose my life in attempting it!" "i see that you are determined to go," said mr. dunn, "and further argument would be of no avail; but i assure you, that you cannot travel further by rail than perrysville; you may succeed in getting across the river to havre de grace, but after that you will have to rely entirely upon yourself." "never fear for me," replied webster, with a smile, "i will get through all right, i feel confident. i will have but little time now to catch the train, mr. dunn, and if you will be kind enough to telegraph to mr. pinkerton according to my directions, i will esteem it a great favor." "certainly, webster; anything i can do for you, or mr. pinkerton, will be done cheerfully." writing out a message, informing me of his arrival in philadelphia and of his intentions, he requested mr. dunn to forward the same, and then, bidding that gentleman good-bye, he made his way to the baltimore depot, and was soon on the road to that city. as the train went speeding along upon its journey, webster had ample time for the consideration of his plans. he was pretty well acquainted with the country between havre de grace and baltimore, and had no fear of losing his way, even if the journey must be made by foot. he was impressed, however, with the necessity of using the utmost caution. while he did not fear for his own personal safety--for fear was an element entirely unknown to him--he realized the importance of his mission too well to rashly imperil its success by any useless exposure, or unnecessary risk. to reach washington, however, he was determined, and to accomplish that object no danger would be too great, no hardship too severe. he nevertheless felt that he must rely solely upon himself, that he would have no one to advise him, and his own discretion and wisdom would have to be depended upon under all circumstances. arriving at the perrysville station, he found that the train could go no further, and that, to reach havre de grace, upon the opposite side of the susquehanna river, the passengers would be required to take small boats and be rowed over, after which each man must make his way as best he could. as the boat touched the land webster sprang ashore, and, going directly to the hotel, inquired for the landlord. he found that gentleman engaged in earnest conversation with an individual who at once instinctively awakened the suspicions of my operative. this gentleman was a tall, fine-looking man, with the erect carriage and self-reliant air of the soldier, but there was something in the nervousness of his manner, and in the furtive glances of his eyes, which convinced webster that he was concealing something and would bear watching. approaching the spot where the two men were conversing, webster at once addressed the landlord in a hearty manner. "landlord, i must get to baltimore to-day. how am i going to do it?" "i do not know," replied the hotel-keeper, "this gentleman is anxious to do the same thing, but i am afraid i cannot help either of you." the gentleman thus referred to turned to webster, saying: "yes, i am very anxious to get through. i am a bearer of dispatches to the british consul at washington, and it is of the utmost importance that they should be delivered at once." while he was speaking a man drove up to the front of the hotel with a fine, strong team of horses attached to a covered road wagon, and throwing the reins across the back of his horses, leaped lightly to the ground. "here is a man who can help you," said the landlord, as the new-comer entered the room; and then he called out: "harris, come here!" the driver of the team came over to where the three men were standing, and the landlord at once made known to him the wishes of webster and the messenger of the british consul. "harris, these gentlemen want to get to baltimore to-day. do you think you can manage it for them?" the man addressed as harris gazed at webster and his companion in a scrutinizing manner, and finally, apparently satisfied with his investigation, signified his willingness to make the attempt, provided the price he demanded, which was fifty dollars, was agreed to. both men assented to the payment of the sum named, and after dinner had been partaken of, the two men took their seats in the vehicle, the driver cracked his whip, and they were upon their way. "i cannot promise to take you through to baltimore," remarked the driver, after they had started; "i was stopped twice on the road yesterday, and i may not be able to pass the guards to-day." "do the best you can," said webster, good-naturedly, "and we will take the risk of a safe arrival." webster then turned to his companion, who had remained silent and watchful ever since they had set out, and endeavored to engage him in conversation. the bearer of dispatches, however, was very little inclined to be sociable, and webster had great difficulty in breaking through the reserve which he resolved to maintain. the further they journeyed, the more webster became convinced that this man was not what he assumed to be, but he vailed his suspicions carefully, and appeared as frank and cordial in his manner as though they were brothers. nothing worthy of note transpired upon the route until the party arrived at the outskirts of perrymansville, which had been the scene of webster's first experience in military service, and where, a few months before, he had been a member of a company of cavalry. they were trotting along quietly, and as the day was balmy and bright the ride was quite an enjoyable one, and for a moment the detective forgot the grave duties which he had undertaken and the dangers that might surround him, and gave himself up to the full enjoyment of the scenes around him. his pleasant reflections were short-lived, however, for just as they were entering the town they saw a mounted cavalryman approaching, who, as he reached the carriage, commanded them to halt. the driver suddenly pulled up his horses, and then the soldier, in a tone of authority: "who are you, and where are you going?" "we are residents of baltimore," answered webster, not at all dismayed by the stern appearance and manner of his soldierly interlocutor, "and we are endeavoring to get home." "you will have to go with me," replied the soldier, decisively, "you can't go any further without permission." here was a detention as unwelcome as it was unexpected, but webster had recognized the uniform worn by the soldier as that of the very company of cavalry he had previously been a member of, and a duplicate of one in which he had previously arrayed himself. the man who had accosted him, however, was unknown to him, and he could, therefore, do nothing but submit quietly to his orders and await a favorable operation of circumstances. as webster glanced casually at his companion, the british messenger, he was surprised at the change which was apparent in the expression of his features. instead of the calm, dignified air of watchful repose which he had observed before, his face had grown pale, and there was such an unmistakable evidence of fear about the man, that webster's suspicions were confirmed, and come what might he resolved to ascertain the nature of his business before they parted company. they had traveled but a short distance under the escort of their guard when they met another man dressed in a similar uniform, and evidently a member of the same company, and as webster gazed at the new-comer he experienced a sensation of relief and joy, for in him he recognized an old companion in arms. as this man approached nearer, webster called out from the carriage, in a cheery voice: "hello, taylor! how are you?" thus suddenly accosted, the soldier rode up to the vehicle, and after a momentary glance at the features of the detective, he reached forth his hand and cordially saluted him. "why, webster, how do you do? the boys said you would not come back, now that the war had commenced, but i knew better, and i am glad to see you." the face of the reputed englishman cleared in an instant, as he found that his companion was among friends, and this effect was not lost upon webster, who had been furtively observing him. he turned his attention, however, to the soldier who had addressed him. "oh, yes," he replied, "i have come back; and my friend here and i are anxious to get to baltimore as soon as possible." "that will be all right," said the soldier; and then, turning to his comrade, he said: "these men are all right, you will permit them to pass." after a few minutes spent in a pleasant conversation, the soldier handed to webster a pass which would prevent further interruption to their journey, and with a mutual pull at a flask with which webster had provided himself before starting, the parties separated, and they proceeded on their way. this little incident produced a marked change in the demeanor of webster's companion, and on being informed that the soldiers were southerners, and not federals, he seemed quite relieved. by the time they were approaching the suburbs of baltimore the stranger had grown exceedingly communicative, and upon webster hinting to him that he also was engaged in the cause of the south, he without hesitation informed my operative that he was similarly employed, and that he was at present carrying dispatches to prominent southern sympathizers then residing in washington. as he communicated this important item of information webster grasped him warmly by the hand, and greeted him as a fellow-patriot, after which, with rare good humor, they cemented their acquaintance and confidence with a friendly draught from the spirit bottle. several times on their journey they were halted by the guards along the roads, but the talismanic pass obtained at perrymansville avoided all questioning, and gained for the travelers a safe passage to their destination. arriving safely at the outskirts of baltimore, the two men left the carriage, and walking a short distance, they entered a street car, and were driven to a retired hotel, where webster had frequently stopped when in the city on former occasions. here they engaged quarters for the night, and webster's companion had by this time formed such an attachment for his fellow-traveler that communicating rooms were engaged, and after partaking of a hearty repast, the two men lighted their cigars and strolled out through the city. there were still many evidences of the riotous affrays which had but lately taken place. the people were in a feverish state of excitement, the drinking saloons and the corridors of the hotels were filled with crowds of excited men, each of whom seemed to vie with the other in giving loud expressions of their opinions, and of denouncing the attempt of the government to transport armed troops through the streets of a peaceful city. ever mindful of the important duty devolving upon him, webster wisely forebore to engage in any conversation with those whom he met, and among the number of the most outspoken of the southern sympathizers were many whom he had previously met, and to whom he was known as an adherent of the south. at an early hour he and his newly found companion returned to their hotel, and shortly afterward retired for the night. arising early on the following morning, they found the same difficulty was to be encountered that had been successfully overcome at the commencement of their journey. the railroads between baltimore and washington had also been torn up, so as to render the running of the trains an impossibility. this fact necessitated the procuring of a team that would convey them to the capital; but this time webster's acquaintance with the proprietors of the hotel, and several of the permanent guests of the house, enabled them without difficulty or delay to secure a pair of horses and a road wagon, with a trusty driver, who guaranteed to carry them to washington for the same amount which had been paid upon the other portion of their journey, and at an early hour they were upon the road to the seat of government. meantime webster had been seriously considering his course of action with regard to his fellow-passenger. that he was an agent of the confederacy he had already admitted, and that he was the bearer of dispatches to prominent sympathizers with the south who were now living in washington, was also well known to the detective. how, therefore, to arrange his plans, so that these papers would be intercepted and the ambassador detained without arousing his suspicion? it must be accomplished so that no delay should result to his own journey, as he had resolved that his dispatches must be delivered that day. just before starting out an idea occurred to him, and requesting the driver to wait a few minutes, as he had forgotten something in his room, he re-entered the hotel, and going to the room they had occupied the evening before, he hurriedly wrote a note which he folded up and placed in his pocket. the note was as follows: "to whom it may concern: "my companion is an emissary of the confederacy, carrying dispatches to southern sympathizers in washington. apprehend him, but do so discreetly and without compromising me. t. w." he then descended the stairs, and entering the wagon, they were driven away towards washington. the day was exceedingly warm, and the horses, unused to long journeys, early began to show signs of weakness, but they kept on without incident, save an occasional question from a passer-by as to their destination, and about noon arrived at a hotel known as the "twelve-mile house," so called from its being located at that distance from washington. here the party halted for dinner, and while engaged at their repast webster noticed at an opposite table a friend of years ago, who wore the uniform of a lieutenant of infantry. fortunately, however, the officer did not appear to recognize him, and during the progress of the dinner webster kept his face hidden as much as possible from his new-found friend. as the lieutenant ceased eating and arose from the table, webster, who also had about completed the bill of fare, arose, and excusing himself to the driver and his companion, passed out into the hallway and met the officer face to face. cordial greetings were interchanged, and in a few minutes webster had detailed to his friend the circumstances attending his meeting with the so-called british messenger, and his suspicions concerning them. it was not long before a plan had been arranged for the carrying out of the project of arresting the pseudo englishman without occasioning the slightest suspicion to fall upon timothy webster, and shortly afterwards the lieutenant mounted his horse and rode off in the direction of washington. after smoking their after-dinner cigars, webster and his companion again resumed their journey. by this time they had become thoroughly acquainted, and they enlivened their drive with many a pleasing anecdote of experience or of invention, until they came in sight of washington city. here a difficulty awaited them, apparently unexpected by both travelers. a lieutenant at the head of eight men emerged from a house by the wayside, and in a voice of authority directed the driver to stop his horses, after which he advanced to the vehicle and saluted the occupants with the utmost courtesy, saying: "gentlemen, i am sorry to discommode you, but i have orders to intercept all persons entering the city, and hold them until they can satisfactorily account for themselves. you will be kind enough to consider yourselves under arrest and follow me." blank astonishment was depicted on the countenances of both webster and his companion, but realizing that to parley would be useless, the two men dismounted and followed the lieutenant and his men into the building, which proved to be a military guard-house. here they were separated and conducted to different apartments, where they were securely locked in, webster's companion standing outside of the door of the room in which webster was placed, and after witnessing the operation which confined webster a prisoner, he was conducted to the room assigned to him, and the key was turned upon him. in a few minutes afterwards webster was quietly released by the lieutenant who had effected his arrest, and who was none other than the friend to whom he had given the information. in less than half an hour thereafter my detective was ascending the steps of the white house, inquiring for his excellency, the president of the united states. having also been provided with a letter to the president's private secretary, mr. nicolay, webster was soon ushered into the presence of mr. lincoln, to whom he made known the nature of his business, and taking off his coat and vest, he removed the dispatches and letters, and handed them to the president, who had been silently watching his movements with a great deal of amused interest. "you have brought quite a mail with you, mr. webster," said the president, "more, perhaps, than it would be quite safe to attempt to carry another time." "yes, sir," replied webster. "i don't think i would like to carry so much through baltimore another time." the president carefully looked over the papers he had just received, and finding that they required more consideration than could be given to them at that time, he turned to webster and said: "mr. webster, i have a cabinet conference this evening, and i will not be able to give these matters my attention until to-morrow. come to me at ten o'clock and i will see you at that time." again thanking the detective for the service he had so successfully rendered, he bade him good evening, and webster sought his hotel, thoroughly exhausted with his journey, and soon after he was sound asleep. the next morning, on repairing to the white house, he was at once admitted, and the president greeted him with marked evidences of cordiality. "mr. webster, you have rendered the country an invaluable service. the bearer of dispatches who was arrested last evening by your efforts, proved, as you suspected, to be an emissary of the south, and the letters found upon him disclose a state of affairs here in washington quite alarming. several prominent families here are discovered to be in regular communication with the southern leaders, and are furnishing them with every item of information. until this time we had only a suspicion of this, but suspicion has now resolved itself into a certainty. you have performed your duty well, and before many days there will be an account demanded of some of these people which they are far from expecting." "i am glad to be of any service," replied webster; "and i have done nothing more than my duty. if you have any further commands for me, mr. president, i am ready to obey them." "very well," said the president; "take these telegrams, and when you have reached a point where communication is possible, send them to general mcclellan, at columbus, ohio; they are important and must be sent without delay. also telegraph to mr. pinkerton to come to washington at once; his services are, i think, greatly needed by the government at this time." rolling up the papers which he received, webster placed them in the center of a hollow cane, which he carried; then, replacing the handle, and promising to attend faithfully to the duties assigned him, he left the executive mansion. chapter viii. _timothy webster in washington.--the return to philadelphia.--i go to the capital.--an important letter._ after leaving the white house, timothy webster went immediately in quest of a conveyance that would enable him to reach baltimore without unnecessary delay. he expected to encounter greater difficulties in obtaining what he desired here in washington than he had met with in baltimore, for the reason that in the capital he was a comparative stranger, while in the latter city he had numerous friends, who believed him to be in sympathy with the confederacy, and whose assistance he could rely upon on that account. his only hope, therefore, lay in his being able to find some friendly baltimorean, upon whose influence he could depend to procure him a mode of conveyance for his return. having arrived late on the preceding evening and being terribly fatigued by the journey he had made, webster had retired almost immediately after he reached his hotel, and consequently he was surprised at the busy scenes which greeted him now. the capital was swarming with soldiers and civilians. regiments continually arriving and were being assigned to quarters and positions around the city, and the streets were filled with eager and excited multitudes. the position which maryland had assumed was vehemently discussed everywhere, and the riotous conduct of the baltimoreans was loudly denounced by northern men, and secretly applauded by those whose sympathies were with the cause of the south. the prompt action of general butler, with his regiment of massachusetts soldiers, who followed quickly after the sixth, in going by boat directly to annapolis, in order to reach washington without hindrance or delay, and his patriotic and determined response to those in authority, who sought to induce him to change his plans for reaching the capital, were everywhere warmly commended. there could be no doubt that the north was thoroughly aroused, and were dreadfully in earnest in their determination to suppress a rebellion which they believed to be causeless, unlawful and threatening the future of a great country. as webster walked along pennsylvania avenue, carefully scanning the faces of every one he met in the hope of discovering some one whom he knew and who might be of service to him, he recognized the driver who had brought him from baltimore on the day before, and who started in astonishment at finding the man whom he had last seen a prisoner in the hands of united states troops now walking the streets free and unattended. this man was accompanied by three others, with two of whom webster was slightly acquainted, and he at once advanced toward them and greeted them cordially. "why, webster, is that you?" inquired the foremost of the party, a well-known "sympathizer" of the name of john maull. "we heard you had been taken prisoner--how did you get out so soon?" "that is easily accounted for," said webster, with a laugh; "i was simply arrested on suspicion, and when they could find nothing about me that was at all suspicious, they were compelled to let me go." "this country is coming upon strange times," remarked a sallow-faced baltimorean who boasted of having been one of the most prominent of the rioters a few days before, "when a man can be arrested in this way and have no means of redress." "that is very true," replied webster, "but we will have a decided change before long, or i am very much mistaken. 'uncle jeff' means business, and there will be long faces in washington before many days." "give me your hand, old boy," exclaimed maull heartily, "you are of the right stripe; but don't talk so loud; let us go around the corner to a quiet little place where we can talk without danger." the party repaired to a drinking saloon, in a retired neighborhood, and on entering it they were greeted warmly by several parties who were standing before the bar. webster was immediately introduced to these gentlemen, and it was not long before he had firmly established himself in their good opinions as a devoted friend of the south. the conversation soon became general, and the most extravagant ideas were expressed with regard to the wonderful achievements that were expected of the southern soldiers, and no doubt was entertained that the yankees, as they called the northern men, would be quickly vanquished by the chivalrous armies of the "sunny south." to all of these suggestions webster yielded a ready assent, and not one among the number was more pronounced in his belief in the needs of the southern cause than was my trusty operative, who, in the cane he flourished so conspicuously, carried important dispatches from the president of the united states to a general in command of northern soldiers. all the time, however, he was growing very restive under the enforced delay in his journey, and seeking a favorable opportunity during a lull in the conversation, he turned to the driver of the wagon and inquired of him when he was going to return to baltimore. "not for a day or two, at least," replied the man. "that is very bad," said webster. "i must get there this evening; it is of the utmost importance that i should do so." at this one of the party approached webster and informed him that he was going back that day and had engaged a conveyance for that purpose, and as there was room enough for two, he would be most happy to have his company. webster at once accepted the invitation, and having thus relieved his anxiety upon the point of reaching baltimore, he joined heartily in the conversation that was going on around him. no one, to have heard him, would doubt for a moment his loyalty to the south, or his firm belief in the eventual triumph of her armies. after remaining in the saloon for some time, webster noticed that the men were becoming intoxicated, and fearing that they would become noisy and probably get into trouble, he suggested to the gentleman with whom he was to drive to baltimore the propriety of leaving the rest to their enjoyment while they arranged matters for their departure. his advice was at once accepted, and the two men bade their associates farewell and repaired to the hotel, where they had their dinner, and about two o'clock they were upon their journey. webster's fears were proven to be well-founded, for as they were passing the locality where they had spent the morning, they saw their former companions between a file of soldiers, and there was little doubt that they had allowed their libations to overcome their judgments, and that they would be allowed to recover their reason in a guard-house. the journey was made without event, the carriage and driver being apparently very well known along the route, and webster arrived in baltimore late that evening. he was desirous of pushing on without delay, as it was important that the dispatches which he carried should be forwarded at once, and he therefore went immediately to the hotel he had occupied when he first arrived in the city. requesting the landlord to use his best efforts to procure him a conveyance to havre de grace, he sat down to his supper, and did ample justice to a plenteous repast. when he had finished the landlord entered the room and informed him that he had succeeded in providing a team for his service, but that grave doubts were entertained whether he would succeed in reaching his destination. expressing his willingness to assume any responsibility of that kind, webster bade his entertainer good-bye, and entering the wagon, he started upon his midnight journey to havre de grace. again fortune favored him, and although repeatedly halted, he was able to give such a straightforward account of himself that they were allowed to proceed, and he arrived in havre de grace in time for breakfast. crossing the river, he went directly to the headquarters of colonel dare, who was in charge of the union troops at perrysville, and requested that officer to forward the telegram to general mcclellan at once. this the colonel promised to do, and in a few minutes the important message was flying over the wires to its destination at columbus, ohio, and the president's request for my appearance at washington followed soon after, and was received by me in due time. recognizing the importance of the call, i lost no time in answering the dispatch of mr. lincoln, and started at once on my journey to washington, accompanied only by a trusty member of my force. before leaving i left orders that should i fail to meet with webster upon the way he should be directed to await my return in the city of pittsburg. on my arrival at perrysville i found that a mode of communication had been hurriedly established with washington, by means of a boat which sailed down the chesapeake bay and landed their passengers at annapolis, from which point the railroad travel to washington was uninterrupted. arriving at the capital i found a condition of affairs at once peculiar and embarrassing, and the city contained a strange admixture of humanity, both patriotic and dangerous. here were gathered the rulers of the nation and those who were seeking its destruction. the streets were filled with soldiers, armed and eager for the fray; officers and orderlies were seen galloping from place to place; the tramp of armed men was heard on every side, and strains of martial music filled the air. here, too, lurked the secret enemy, who was conveying beyond the lines the coveted information of every movement made or contemplated. men who formerly occupied places of dignity, power and trust were now regarded as objects of suspicion, whose loyalty was impeached and whose actions it was necessary to watch. aristocratic ladies, who had previously opened the doors of their luxurious residences to those high in office and who had hospitably entertained the dignitaries of the land, were now believed to be in sympathy with the attempt to overthrow the country, and engaged in clandestine correspondence with southern leaders. the criminal classes poured in from all quarters, and almost every avenue of society was penetrated by these lawless and unscrupulous hordes. an adequate idea can be formed of the transformation which had been effected within a few short weeks in this city of national government. on the day following my arrival i wended my way to the white house and sought an interview with the president. around the executive mansion everything was in a state of activity and bustle. messengers were running frantically hither and thither; officers in uniform were gathered in clusters, engaged in animated discussions of contemplated military operations; department clerks were bustling about, and added to these was a crowd of visitors, all anxious, like myself, to obtain an interview with the chief executive. i was not required to wait an unusual length of time, and i was soon ushered into the presence of mr. lincoln, who greeted me cordially and introduced me to the several members of the cabinet who were engaged with him. i was at once informed that the object in sending for me was that the authorities had for some time entertained the idea of organizing a secret-service department of the government, with the view of ascertaining the social, political and patriotic status of the numerous suspected persons in and around the city. as yet, no definite plans had been adopted, and i was requested to detail my views upon the subject, in order that the matter might be intelligently considered, and such action taken as would lead to definite and satisfactory results. i accordingly stated to them the ideas which i entertained upon the subject, as fully and concisely as i was able to do at the time, and, after i had concluded, i took my departure, with the understanding that i would receive further communications from them in a few days. it was very evident to me, however, that in the confusion and excitement which were necessarily incident to the novel and perplexing condition of affairs then existing, that anything approaching to a systematized organization or operation would be for a time impossible. the necessity for war had come so suddenly upon a peaceful community that there had been as yet but little time for thorough preparation or system. the raising of a large army, with all the various contingencies of uniforming, arming and drilling; the furnishing of supplies, and the assigning of quarters, were occupying the attention of the rulers of the government, and i felt confident that i would be required to wait a longer time than i could then conveniently spare from my business, ere i would be favored with any definite instructions from those in authority. this opinion was fully confirmed, after several unsuccessful attempts to obtain satisfying particulars from the heads of several of the departments, and leaving my address with the secretary of the president, i returned to philadelphia. i had directed, prior to leaving chicago, that all important communications addressed to me should be forwarded to that city, and on my arrival there i found a number of letters which required immediate attention. among the number was the following, which had been somewhat delayed in its transmission. "columbus, ohio, april , . "allan pinkerton, esq., "dear sir:-- "i wish to see you with the least possible delay, to make arrangements with you of an important nature. i will be either here or in cincinnati for the next few days--here to-morrow--cincinnati next day. in this city you will find me at the capitol, at cincinnati at my residence. "if you telegraph me, better use your first name alone. let no one know that you come to see me, and keep as quiet as possible. "very truly yours, "geo. b. mcclellan, "maj. gen'l comd'g ohio vols. this letter at once decided me. anxious as i was to serve the country in this, the hour of her need, i sought the first opportunity for active duty that presented itself, and i left philadelphia at once, in order to comply with the instructions contained in this message of gen. mcclellan. [illustration: storming a fort.] chapter ix. _an adventure in pittsburg.--a mob at bay.--an explanation.--good-feeling restored._ several influences operated in my mind to induce me to respond at once to this letter, and some of them of a directly personal nature. i had been acquainted with general mcclellan for a long time before this, and had been intimately associated with him while engaged upon various important operations connected with the illinois central and the ohio and mississippi railroads, of the latter of which he was then president. from the friendship and esteem i entertained for him growing out of my relations with him in those matters, both as an individual and as an executive officer, i felt the more anxious to enter into his service, now that he had assumed the command of a military department, and was about to take an active part in the impending struggle. at philadelphia i ascertained that timothy webster had already departed for pittsburg, according to previous instructions, and hastily telegraphing to the general that i would instantly respond to his letter in person, i took the first train leading westward and was soon upon my way. timothy webster, meanwhile, had proceeded on his journey from perrysville, and arrived without accident or adventure in philadelphia. he immediately repaired to the office of mr. dunn, who informed him that he had just received a dispatch for him from chicago. webster hastily opened the message and found my directions for him to await my return at the city of pittsburg. remaining in the quaker city until the following day, he took the western train and in due time arrived at his destination. on inquiring at the telegraph office in pittsburg he received another message to the same effect as the first one, and he therefore engaged quarters at a hotel, patiently awaiting my coming. on the second day after his arrival in the smoky city, which was sunday, he again went to the telegraph office, where he received information that i would probably arrive there in the course of that day. returning to the hotel, webster entered the bar-room, and while he was being attended to two men came in, apparently engaged in excited conversation. they advanced to the bar and requested drinks. the excitement in the city, attendant upon the news from baltimore, had not abated in the least since webster had passed through several days before, and these two men were discussing the action of the government in regard to this matter. one of them, an excitable, empty-headed fellow, was cursing the president and general scott, in very loud tones and in unmeasured terms, for not burning the city of baltimore to ashes, and thus teaching the rebels a lesson they would be apt to remember. the remonstrances of his friend seemed only to excite him still more, and webster, feeling desirous of avoiding any controversy at that time, started to leave the saloon, when the angry disputant turned to him, and arrogantly demanded his opinion of the matter. "i think," said webster, "that the president and general scott understand their duties much better than i can inform them, and i suppose they do not wish to destroy the property of many who are true to the government." "that is all nonsense," replied the other, sharply, "there is not a single union man in the whole city." "i think you are mistaken," said webster, coolly. "i am sure there are thousands of them there." this answer seemed to infuriate the man, and striding up to webster, he asked, with an air of impertinence: "are you a southern man?" "no, sir, i was born in new york," was the reply. "what is your name?" impudently demanded the fellow. "you will find my name upon the register of the hotel, if you desire it, and as i do not wish to have any further controversy with you, i bid you good morning," replied webster, still remaining cool and unruffled. by this time a crowd of about twenty men had gathered about them, and as webster turned to leave the room, one of them demanded to know the contents of the telegram he had just received. this demand, added to the previous suggestion that webster was a southern man, was sufficient to excite the entire crowd, who had been living upon excitement for more than a week, and they began to press around him in a threatening manner, one of them calling out: "i believe he is a d--d spy; let us see what he has got!" webster broke loose from those nearest to him, and retreating backwards toward the door, exclaimed, in a determined voice: "gentlemen, i am no spy, and if any of you attempt to trouble me further, some of you will assuredly get hurt!" at this the crowd grew boisterous and violent, and several called out, "hang him!" "hang the spy!" while some of them made a rush toward where he stood. drawing his revolver, webster faced his angry assailants, who drew back involuntarily when they saw that he was both well armed and undismayed. "gentlemen, we have had enough of this nonsense. you can talk about hanging me, and perhaps there are enough of you to do it, but, by god, the first one that attempts to put his hands upon me is a dead man!" matters began to look serious. it seemed evident that these excited people were determined to resort to violence, and that there would be bloodshed in consequence. webster, whose relations with the government were of so intensely loyal a character, was filled with regret at having allowed himself to become a party to a conversation which would lead to such serious consequences. he was resolved, however, to maintain his position. to show signs of weakness, therefore, would be dangerous, if not fatal, to him, and he stood bravely in front of the angry mob, who had drawn back at the sight of the revolver which was leveled so menacingly at them. only for a moment, however, did the crowd stand awed and irresolute--one moment of silence, in which every man appeared to be deciding for himself his course of action. then one tall, stalwart man stepped from their midst, and waving his hand toward his companions, he cried out: "come on, he is only one against twenty, and we will take him dead, or alive!" the crowd took a few steps in advance, and webster had braced himself to receive their attack, when suddenly, close beside him stood a form, and a loud voice called out: "stop, gentlemen, where you are! this man is no traitor, and i will defend him with my life!" and the muzzles of two revolvers ranged themselves beside that presented by the suspected, but undismayed detective. [illustration: "_stop, gentlemen, where you are._" p. .] involuntarily the crowd stood still at this unexpected arrival of reinforcements, and webster, who had recognized the voice, looked up in surprise and relief at this unlooked-for, though timely, assistance. i had arrived just in the nick of time, and i was resolved to defend my undaunted operative to the last. at this moment the proprietor of the hotel entered the saloon, and in a calm voice and quiet manner attempted to subdue the angry feelings of the bystanders. "gentlemen," said he, "there need be no trouble about this matter; mr. webster can fully explain his position, and i think the best plan would be for you all to repair to the office of the mayor, where any explanation can be given." "i am perfectly willing to do that," said i; "i know this man, and will answer for him under any circumstances; we will accompany you to the office of the mayor at once, and i think i can convince him that he is no spy." this proposition was eagerly accepted by some, and reluctantly by others, and finally the entire party marched out of the hotel on their way to the office of the chief magistrate of the city; webster and myself walking together. the crowd increased as we went on, and frequent calls were still made to "hang the traitor," but no further attempts were made to molest us, and we reached the office without any event of a troublesome nature occurring. the noise of the crowd attracted the attention of the chief of police, who, during the temporary absence of the mayor, was in charge of affairs of this nature, and he came to the door to ascertain the occasion of the tumult. as the crowd, with webster and myself in the van, reached the steps which led up to the municipal office, i at once recognized the chief of police, having been connected with him some time before in the detection of some burglars from the city of pittsburg, and that officer was not slow to identify me as the detective, who had frequently enabled him to secure the desperate criminals whom the law had at various times pursued. as we reached the platform where the officer was standing, i stretched forth my hand, which the chief cordially grasped. "why, mr. pinkerton, what are you doing here?" inquired the chief, with some surprise. "i have come to defend one of my men, whom these people insist upon hanging as a rebel spy, but who is loyal to the core," i answered, laughingly. "i will take care of that," replied the chief, "and your word is sufficient for me," at the same time extending his disengaged hand and warmly greeting webster, who stood beside me. as the crowd noticed the evident acquaintance and good-feeling that existed between the reputed spy and their chief of police, they drew back instinctively, while some of them looked as if they were not insensible to a feeling of shame. the chief realized the state of affairs at once, and turning to the now crestfallen and subdued gathering, he addressed them: "gentlemen, i will be responsible for the loyalty and integrity of these gentlemen, and you will instantly disperse." the leaders of this assault on webster looked terribly ashamed of themselves when they found how ridiculously they had been acting, and as the door of the chief's office closed on our retreating figures, they slowly and silently retired. in an hour afterwards, when webster and i returned to the hotel, we found the gentlemen who a short time before were anxious to hang him, awaiting our arrival, and we received from them their heartfelt apologies for their hasty and inconsiderate conduct, all of which were received with a spirit of good nature that won the regards of all present, and when the time of our departure arrived, they accompanied us to the depot in a body, and cheered us lustily as the train slowly moved away. thus an adventure, which promised to be very serious in its results, terminated in a manner satisfactory to all, and webster and myself, instead of being lynched by a pittsburg mob, departed in safety on our journey, and arrived in cincinnati upon the following day, prepared to receive from general mcclellan such instructions as were deemed necessary by him for the furtherance of the cause in which he was engaged. [illustration: betrayed by his boots.] chapter x. _general mcclellan in command of ohio.--i am engaged for the war.--the secret service.--a consultation.--webster starts for rebeldom._ at the outbreak of the rebellion many difficulties were encountered which the people and their leaders were ill-prepared to surmount, and many expedients were resorted to in order to equip and officer the troops as they arrived. the state of ohio, the militia of which general mcclellan had been called upon to command by governor dennison, was no exception to this rule; but that gentleman realized the importance of calling some one to the command of the volunteers, upon whose knowledge, judgment and experience he could place implicit reliance. he therefore turned to captain mcclellan, who was a graduate of west point, and had been a captain in the regular army, but who had for some years past been devoting himself to the management of a prominent railroad enterprise in the state. the governor at once sent a communication to the general government, requesting that mcclellan should be restored to his old rank in the army, and that the duty of organizing the ohio volunteers should be assigned to him. to this request no answer was received, and it was afterwards learned that the governor's letter, owing to the interruption of communications with washington from all points, had not reached its destination. failing, therefore, to receive any reply from the general government, and being thus forced to rely upon his own resources, governor dennison at once summoned mcclellan to columbus, where the latter applied himself earnestly to the work of organizing the numerous volunteer regiments which offered their services to the country. the state laws were changed in such a manner as to allow the governor to select commanding officers for these volunteers outside of the members of the state militia, and very soon afterward the ohio troops were commanded by thoroughly competent men, who had made military movements the subject of scientific study. on the third day of may a "department of the ohio" was formed, consisting of the combined forces of ohio, indiana and illinois, and this department, by order of general scott, was placed under the command of general mcclellan. the ohio troops, as they arrived, were mainly located at camp dennison, which was situated in a valley about sixteen miles northwesterly from the city of cincinnati. this was the largest and the chief camp in the state, and here the volunteers received that thorough instruction and training so essential in preparing for the rigors of war. as i have stated, my personal acquaintance with george b. mcclellan had, from its earliest incipiency, been of the most agreeable and amicable nature, and when i called at his house in ludlow street, as i did immediately upon my arrival in cincinnati, i was received with genuine cordiality. after we were closeted together i explained fully to him the character of the business that had called me to washington, and how the complication of affairs at the seat of government necessitated so much delay that i had found it imperative upon me to leave without arriving at any definite understanding with the president. the general had already been advised of his elevation in rank, and among other things desired to consult with me in relation to his affairs at the war department. i need not stop to give the details of that interview. his object in sending for me was to secure my aid and co-operation in the organization of a secret service for his department, and finding me more than willing to do all in my power to help along the cause of the union, he immediately laid before me all his plans. our business was settled. it arranged that i should assume full management and control of this new branch of the service, and that i should at once enter upon the discharge of the multifarious duties attending so responsible a position. the general then informed me that he would write to general scott for permission to organize this department under his own personal supervision; and he also agreed to submit the project to governor dennison, of ohio, with a request to that gentleman to solicit the co-operation of the governors of illinois, indiana, michigan and wisconsin, in sustaining the organization. to this arrangement i gave a ready assent, and we then entered upon the discussion of affairs requiring immediate attention. several measures, more or less important, had suggested themselves to my mind while the general was talking, and in the course of the conversation which followed, i presented them for his consideration. it was a relief to me to find that at the outset there was no clash of opinion between us, and i felt confident that there was not likely to be any in the future. for several days my time was principally taken up in private consultations with general mcclellan, in laying out a line of operations, by which i was to assist in making arrangements for bringing my own force into active duty at the earliest possible hour. i rented a suite of rooms and fitted up an office in cincinnati, where i called about me some of the most capable and trustworthy detectives in my employ, and impressed upon them the great importance of the tasks that were about to be imposed upon them. the general informed me that he would like observations made within the rebel lines, and i resolved to at once send some scouts into the disaffected region lying south of us, for the purpose of obtaining information concerning the numbers, equipments, movements and intentions of the enemy, as well as to ascertain the general feeling of the southern people in regard to the war. i fully realized the delicacy of this business, and the necessity of conducting it with the greatest care, caution and secrecy. none but good, true, reliable men could be detailed for such service, and knowing this, i made my selections accordingly; my thoughts reverting first of all to timothy webster. within six hours after the commander had expressed his wishes to me, timothy webster was on his way to louisville, with instructions to proceed southward from that city to memphis, stopping at bowling green and clarkesville on the way. in webster's case it was not necessary to devote much time to instructions, except as to his line of travel, for he was a man who understood the whole meaning of a mission like this, and one who would perform his duty with that faithfulness and ability by which he had fairly earned the confidence i now reposed in him. within a few days i also sent out other scouts, singly and in pairs, on the different routes that had been carefully prepared for them, and in a short time quite a number of my best operatives were engaged upon more or less difficult and dangerous tasks, all tending to the same end. in organizing and controlling this secret service, i endeavored to conceal my own individual identity so far as my friends and the public were concerned. the new field of usefulness into which i had ventured was designed to be a secret one in every respect, and for obvious reasons i was induced to lay aside the name of allan pinkerton--a name so well known that it had grown to be a sort of synonym for detective. i accordingly adopted the less suggestive one of e. j. allen; a _nom de guerre_ which i retained during the entire period of my connection with the war. this precautionary measure was first proposed by the general himself, and in assenting to it i carried out his views as well as my own. this ruse to conceal my identity was a successful one. my true name was known only to general mcclellan, and those of my force who were in my employ before the breaking out of the rebellion, and by them it was sacredly kept. indeed, i doubt if mcclellan has ever divulged it to this day, if i may judge by the frequent occurrence of such incidents as the following: a short time since, while on a visit to my new york agency, i chanced to meet one of my old army friends, general fitz-john porter. he recognized me, gave me a hearty greeting, and proceeded to address me as major allen, after the custom of by-gone days. i permitted the conversation to go on for some time, and then said: "are you not aware, general, that the name of e. j. allen, which i used during the war, was a fictitious one?" he looked at me, as if to satisfy himself that i was not jesting, and then exclaimed: "fictitious! you are not in earnest, major?" i assured him that i was never more so. "why, i never suspected such a thing. what, then, is your true name?" "allan pinkerton," i replied. "allan pinkerton!" he ejaculated. his astonishment knew no bounds, and he declared it was the first intimation he had ever had that allan pinkerton and major allen were one and the same person. it was on the thirteenth of may that timothy webster left cincinnati on his trip southward. he arrived at louisville, ky., late in the night, and remained there until the following day, when he pursued his course into the heart of that self-satisfied state which only desired to be "let alone." it is not my purpose to give in detail all the events of webster's journey, as there was much that would only prove tedious at this late day, though at that time regarded as of the utmost importance to the country. shrewd, wide-awake, and keen as a blood-hound on the scent, he allowed nothing to escape him, but quietly jotted down every item of intelligence that could possibly be of advantage to the union army, and picked up many important points, which would have escaped the notice of a man of less detective experience and ability. he stopped a day or two at bowling green, ky., and then proceeded on to clarkesville, tenn. he made friends of all he met, and cleverly ingratiated himself into the good graces of those whom he believed might be of service to him. he was a "hail, fellow! well met," "a prince of good fellows," a genial, jovial, convivial spirit, with an inexhaustible fund of anecdote and amusing reminiscences, and a wonderful faculty for making everybody like him. he partook of soldiers' fare in the rebel camp, shook hands warmly with raw recruits, joked and laughed with petty officers, became familiar with colonels and captains, and talked profoundly with brigadier-generals. he was apparently an enthusiastic and determined rebel, and in a few cunningly-worded sentences he would rouse the stagnant blood of his hearers till it fairly boiled with virtuous indignation against yankees in general, and "abe linkin" in particular. webster's talent in sustaining a _role_ of this kind amounted to positive genius, and it was this that forced me to admire the man as sincerely as i prized his services. naturally, he was of a quiet, reserved disposition, seldom speaking unless spoken to, and never betraying emotion or excitement under any pressure of circumstances. his face always wore that calm, imperturbable expression denoting a well-balanced mind and a thorough self-control, while the immobile countenance and close-set lips showed that he was naturally as inscrutable as the sphinx. many of his associates were of the opinion that he was cold and unfeeling, but _i_ knew there could be no greater mistake than this; _i_ knew that a manlier, nobler heart never existed than that which beat within the broad breast of timothy webster; and i knew that, reserved and modest as he was, he was never wanting in courtesy, never derelict in his duty, never behind his fellows in acts of kindness and mercy. it was when he was detailed for such operations as the one in question that his disposition underwent a complete metamorphosis. then his reserve vanished, and he became the chatty, entertaining boon companion, the hero of the card-table, the story-teller of the bar-room, or the lion of the social gathering, as the exigencies of the case might require. he could go into a strange place and in one day surround himself with warm friends, who would end by telling him all he desired to know. in a life-time of varied detective experience, i have never met one who could more readily and agreeably adapt himself to circumstances. webster represented himself as a resident of baltimore, and gave graphic accounts of the recent troubles in that city; of the unpleasant position in which the "friends of the cause" were placed by the proximity and oppression of northern troops, and of the outraged feelings of the populace when the "lincoln hirelings" marched through the streets of the monumental city. his eyes seemed to flash with indignation during the recital, and it would have been difficult indeed to induce his audience to believe that he was acting a part, or that his heart was not with the south. on the morning of his departure from clarkesville quite a number of soldiers and citizens, who had become attached to him during his brief sojourn with them, accompanied him to the depot, shook him warmly by the hand at parting, and earnestly wished him god-speed. he told them all that he hoped to see them again soon, and waved them a smiling adieu from the platform of the car, as the train whirled him away toward memphis. as the train stopped on the east bank of the tennessee river, and the passengers swarmed out of the cars, webster noticed a man take the conductor aside and engage in earnest conversation with him for a few moments. this man was a dark-complexioned, sharp-visaged, long-haired individual, clad in civilian's garb, and wearing a broad-brimmed hat. there was an air of mystery about him which attracted more than a passing glance from the scout, and caused the latter to keep an eye on him thereafter. the passengers were obliged to cross the river in a ferry-boat. the train going south was in waiting on the other side, and its conductor stood on the bank alone, making entries in his memorandum-book. as soon as the boat touched the land the man with the long hair and broad-brimmed hat sprang ashore and approached the conductor, to whom he began to talk in the same hurried, nervous manner that he had done to the one on the other side. as the time for starting approached, the mysterious stranger and the conductor walked toward the train together, conversing excitedly as they went. "there's something up," thought webster, as he boarded the train. "perhaps that fellow is on the look-out for new-comers like myself; but we'll see whether he is sharp enough to catch a weasel asleep." for the first twenty miles after leaving the tennessee river, the road lay through an uncultivated region of swamps and heavy timber. at every station along the route uniformed men, heavy guns, car-loads of muskets and ammunition were seen, indicating general and active preparations for war, while the secession flag was flying in the breeze, and the music of fife and drum was frequently borne to the ear. at humboldt, where the train arrived at four o'clock in the afternoon, they were delayed for some time, and webster improved the opportunity to look around him and to procure his dinner. the man with the broad-brimmed hat seated himself almost opposite webster at table, who noticed that his restless, inquisitive eyes were kept busy scrutinizing every face that came within range of his vision. he did not address himself to any one during the progress of the repast, and after hurriedly satisfying his own appetite, he walked out upon the platform of the depot, where he stood intently watching the other passengers as they returned to the train. webster, as he crossed the platform, instinctively felt that those searching eyes were riveted upon him as if they would pierce him through, but he did not evince the slightest degree of trepidation or uneasiness under the ordeal. assuming an air of quiet unconsciousness, he sauntered past the man without seeming to notice him, and entered the smoking-car, coolly lighted a cigar, drew a nashville newspaper from his pocket, and settled himself to his reading. he saw no more of the mysterious stranger during the remainder of the journey, but on alighting from the train at the memphis depot, the first object that met his gaze was the wearer of the broad-brimmed hat. arriving in memphis at nine o'clock in the evening, webster went directly to the worsham house, where he intended to stay while in the city. while registering his name he observed a military officer in full uniform standing at his elbow, watching him closely as he wrote. several other new arrivals placed their signatures after webster, and he then noticed that the officer was engaged in making a copy of names and addresses on a piece of paper. while watching this proceeding, his attention was distracted by some one hastily entering the hotel office. it was his mysterious fellow-traveler, who, stepping into the center of the room, glanced quickly around, apparently looking for some particular face. the search was evidently successful, for, walking up to one of the men who had just arrived on the train from the north, he tapped him on the shoulder and beckoned him. after a few moments' conversation, during which the new-comer appeared to be both surprised and frightened, the two left the hotel together and walked up the street arm in arm. two citizens who were lounging near the door had been interested spectators of this incident, and webster heard one of them inquire: "what does that mean?" "it means that the stranger is under arrest," replied his companion. "under arrest? and who is the man who arrested him?" "oh, he is a member of the safety committee." "but what crime has the stranger committed, that he should thus be taken into custody?" "nothing, perhaps; but the fact that he is a stranger from the north, is sufficient to mark him as an object of suspicion." "isn't that a little severe?" "severe? it's a necessity in these times. for my part, i am in for hanging every northern man who comes here, unless he can give the most satisfactory proof that he is not a spy." the rest of the conversation did not reach webster's ear, and, being much fatigued by his day's journey, he soon retired, to seek that much needed rest which slumber only could afford. he rose at an early hour in the morning, feeling much refreshed. on entering the dining-room he found it crowded with guests, the majority of whom wore the uniform and shoulder-straps of confederate officers. the conversation around the table was upon the all-absorbing theme which at that time was uppermost in every mind, and the scout was both amused and edified by what he heard. he did not long remain a silent listener, but taking his cue at the proper moment he entered easily and naturally into the conversation himself, and his pleasing address and intelligent observations commanded at once the respectful attention of those around him. after breakfast webster determined to ascertain whether or not he was under the surveillance of the vigilance committee, and he accordingly left the hotel, and wended his way toward the post-office. he had not proceeded far when he noticed a man who appeared to be following him on the opposite side of the street. desiring to satisfy himself upon this point he walked on for several blocks, and then dropped into a saloon. remaining there a sufficient length of time for the man to pass from view, in case he did not stop in his onward course, he emerged from the saloon and retraced his steps toward the hotel. as he did so he noticed the stranger on the other side of the street, dogging him as before. this left no doubt in his mind that he was being shadowed, and he resolved to be guarded in his movements, to refrain from writing any reports or making any notes that could possibly betray him. he returned to the office and bar-room of the worsham hotel, and spent an hour or two reading and smoking. while thus occupied, three military officers entered and stood near the bar engaged in animated conversation. webster sauntered toward them, and heard one of the trio--a man whom the others addressed as "doctor"--remark emphatically: "yes, gentlemen, that is a true principle. it will not do to let a man set foot on kentucky soil until the northern troops disregard the neutrality of that state." catching the drift of the conversation, webster stepped forward and said: "i beg pardon, sir; will you permit me to ask one question?" the three officers turned toward him, with expressions of mild surprise in their faces, and the doctor replied: "certainly, sir; certainly." "do you suppose," added webster, "that kentucky will allow the northern army to march through the state without showing fight?" "not by a jug-full," was the prompt response. "the moment the northern army crosses the ohio river, kentucky will rise in arms and take sides with the south." "if she doesn't," said webster, with much apparent warmth, "she will prove herself unworthy of the respect of any true southern men!" the doctor's face brightened up, and he laid his hand approvingly on the scout's shoulder. "may i ask where you are from?" "i was born in kentucky and reared in maryland," was the quiet reply, "and i am now direct from baltimore." "baltimore!" ejaculated the whole trio in chorus; and the next moment were all shaking hands in the most vigorous fashion. "baltimore!" repeated the doctor, his face red with his recent exertion. "my friend, we are always glad to meet a baltimorean, for we know there is many a true man in that city who would help us if he could. may i ask your name, sir?" "webster--timothy webster." "a devilish good name. mine is burton. my friends all call me doctor burton. allow me to introduce you to colonel dalgetty and to captain stanley of the arkansas rifles." the introduction was cordially acknowledged on both sides, and webster then said: "gentlemen, i was about to call for a drink when i heard you speak of kentucky. i am happy to know that there is still hopes for that state. will you drink her health with me?" and in the clinking of the glasses, and the quaffing of their favorite beverages, the new link of friendship was forged. [illustration: run down by cavalry.] chapter xi. _webster fraternizes with the rebel officers.--a secession hat.--a visit to a rebel camp.--"the committee of safety."--a friendly stranger.--a warning.--the escape._ webster's new friends were men whom he believed he could use to good advantage, and he determined to improve the chance that had thrown him in contact with them. he found them not only very well informed, but disposed to be communicative, and he therefore applied the "pumping" process with all the skill at his command. he experienced no difficulty in making this mode of operation effectual, for these officers were exceedingly willing to air their knowledge for the benefit of their baltimore friend, and enjoyed his frequent expressions of agreeable surprise at the extent of the preparations made by the people of the south to defend their rights. dr. burton was the most conspicuous one of the group, from his very pompousness. he wore a superfluity of gorgeous gold lace on his uniform, and assumed the dignity of a major-general. he was a flabby-faced, bulbous-eyed individual, with a wonderful stomach for harboring liquor, and that unceasing flow of spirits arising from a magnified sense of his own importance. it was evident, even upon a short acquaintance, that the doctor found his chief entertainment in listening to himself talk, a species of recreation in which he indulged with great regularity, sharing the pleasure with as many others as would grant him a hearing. in webster he found an attentive auditor, which so flattered his vanity that he at once formed a strong attachment for my operative, and placed himself on familiar and confidential terms with him. "webster, we've got to do some hard fighting in these parts, and that before we are many days older," said the doctor, with a wise shake of the head. "i think you are right," conceded the scout. "we must fight it out. from what you have told me, however, i am sure the lincoln troops will find you fully prepared to give them a warm reception here." "that they will, sir; that they will!" was the emphatic rejoinder. "we have one full regiment and four or five companies besides, at camp rector, and general pillow has thirty-seven hundred men at the camp in the rear of fort harris, which is a little above us on this side of the river. we expect to move with him, and if there is an attack made upon us every man in the town will instantly become a soldier." "have you arms enough for all of them?" "arms? let the yankees count on our not having arms, and they will meet with a surprise party. in two hours' notice we can have from eight to ten thousand men ready to march." "no doubt of it, doctor; but how do you expect to get two hours' notice?" "lord bless you, webster, we have men watching the movements of the yankees at cairo, and the minute they make a move we are notified. then our signal gun is fired, and every man is mustered." "a good arrangement, truly," said the detective quietly. "you look as if you could do some hard fighting yourself, mr. webster," remarked colonel dalgetty. the detective smiled. "i have been fighting against great odds for the past two months in baltimore. the last battle i fought was to get away from there with my life." "yes, and we are confounded glad to receive you here," exclaimed the enthusiastic doctor, shaking webster by the hand for the twentieth time. "come, gentlemen, we must have another drink. step up and nominate your 'pizen.'" the glasses were filled, and some one proposed the toast: "death to the yankees!" under his breath, however, the detective muttered, "confusion to the rebels!" and drained his glass. the toast was no sooner drank than lieutenant stanley, who was evidently beginning to feel the influence of the liquor he had drank, took off his uniform hat and put it on webster's head. [illustration: "_now, my dear fellow, you can consider yourself perfectly at home!_" p. .] "excuse me, mr. webster," he said, "i merely wish to see how you look in one of our hats." then stepping back, he added: "by the gods, nothing could be more becoming! my dear fellow, you must have one by all means, if you stay among us." webster endeavored laughingly to object, but they all refused to accept "no" for an answer. so, finding it impossible to resist, he went with them to a neighboring hat store. "fit a hat to mr. webster's head--a hat just like mine," said dr. burton, to the proprietor; then turning to the scout, he added: "we will have you a cord and tassel of blue, as that will show that you are true to the cause, although you do not belong to the military." the hatter produced a secession chapeau of the kind and size required, and webster at once put it on, much to the delight of the doctor, who slapped webster familiarly on the shoulder, with the exclamation: "now, my dear fellow, you can consider yourself at home!" "perfectly at home," echoed colonel dalgetty. "henceforward you are one of us," put in the lieutenant. webster thanked them cordially for their kindness, and promised to wear it in preference to any other. as they stepped outside of the store, however, all thoughts of the new hat were temporarily driven from his mind, for, standing on the sidewalk, within a few yards of the store door, and looking directly at him, was the identical individual whom he had noticed on the train, who had arrested the northern stranger the night before. the gaze which this vigilant agent of the safety committee now bent upon webster was full of dark suspicion, but after one swift glance at him the detective turned away with an air of perfect composure and unconcern, and walked off between his companions. to say that he felt some uneasiness at this evidence that he was still being closely followed, would be only to tell the truth. his first impulse was to speak to his companions about it, but a second thought decided him not to mention the matter to any one, nor to betray by word or act that he had the slightest hint of a suspicion that he was being watched. the three officers introduced webster to a large number of soldiers and citizens, and before the day was over he had quite an extended circle of acquaintance in memphis. dr. burton, who had conceived a fancy for him, as sudden as it was pronounced, assumed a sort of paternal control over webster, hovering about him with an air of protection and solicitude, and drawing the scout's arm through his when they walked together. that afternoon, webster, desiring to be alone for awhile, hired one of the hackmen at the door of the hotel to drive him three or four miles into the country. he went down the river road, and as it was a beautiful day, he enjoyed himself admiring the picturesque scenery along the way. just below the town, on the bank of the river, he found a small encampment of soldiers with a battery, who were on the lookout for boats coming up the river, and during his ride he saw several encampments of the same nature. after spending several hours inspecting the fortifications along the river, webster returned to the hotel, which he reached about dark. the next day doctor burton and several of his military friends sought out the detective, and urged him to go with them to camp rector. "gentlemen, i am at your service," said webster, earnestly. "i think i would enjoy a visit to your camp to-day above all things." they went to the levee, and at ten o'clock were on the boat, steaming up the river toward mound city, where camp rector was located. a distance of some six or seven miles, passing on their way up, various objects of interest, among them fort harris, which was merely an embankment thrown up, to answer the purpose. arriving at mound city, the party disembarked and walked to the hotel. after dinner the party visited the camp-ground, a distance of about one-fourth of a mile from the hotel, and here dr. burton and the other officers took much pride in showing webster around. they talked volubly about the unexampled bravery of the confederate soldier; had much to say on the subject of southern chivalry as opposed to northern braggadocio; told how well they were prepared to meet the onslaught of the enemy; and found a special delight in exhibiting to the visitor a portion of general bragg's artillery, which they had in the camp. after that they seated themselves around a table in one of the larger tents, to rest and enjoy the grateful shade, as it was a warm and sunny afternoon. while engaged in the most bombastic utterances of their prowess, and of the wonderful exploits that might be expected of the southern army, their conversation was interrupted by a shadow falling across the strip of sunlight that streamed in through the opening of the tent. every one around the table glanced up, and there at the entrance stood the man with the broad-brimmed hat! the intruder did not tarry a moment, but turned and walked away. evidently he had stopped only to look in; but in that single instant he had shot a keen, and apparently satisfactory, glance at timothy webster, which was fortunately not observed by any one save the detective himself. "that fellow is one of the safety committee," said dr. burton, filling his glass. "he appears to be looking for some one," remarked lieutenant stanley. "reckon he is," answered the doctor. "he's always looking for some one. and, by-the-bye, those chaps are doing a heap of good for the cause just now. a northern man stands no show for his life in these parts if the safety committee spots him. they hang 'em on suspicion." "that's right," said webster, coolly. "i believe in hanging every northern man that comes prowling around. they don't deserve a trial, for they have no right here anyway." but cool and collected as webster outwardly appeared, it must be admitted that he was inwardly ill at ease. there was now no longer the shadow of a doubt in his mind that this long-haired agent of the safety committee was following him and watching his every movement, and that any attempt on his part to return to the north would betray him and cause his arrest. "the only reason i have not already been arrested," mused the scout, "is because they are not sure whether i came from the north or not. they merely _suspect_, and are watching me to see if i undertake to return northward. such an act would confirm their suspicions, and i would be arrested and probably put to death as a spy. it stands me in hand to give them the slip before i take the back track." after spending a very pleasant day at the camp, he returned to memphis on the latest boat that night, informing dr. burton that he was going to chattanooga to look up a brother whom he had not seen in twelve years. "you'll come back?" said the doctor, as he wrung his hand. "oh, certainly," was the cheerful response. "i'll be with you again before long." colonel gaines, of the artillery, who heard this conversation, now grasped the scout's hand. "webster, you'd make a good soldier," he said, bluntly. "hang me if i wouldn't like to have you on my force." webster smiled good-naturedly. "i have some family business to attend to before i could think of entering the army. after that i may remind you of your remark." "all right," said the colonel, "any time that you are ready, come; i will make room for you." on his way down the river webster found, to his relief, that the man with the broad-brimmed hat was not aboard the boats. he now had a hope of being able to give his shadow the slip by leaving memphis on early train in the morning. arriving in sight of their destination, the passengers on the ferry-boat were surprised to see that the levee was crowded with people. shortly after, they learned that this unusual gathering was caused by the capture of the steamboat "prince of wales" by the rebels. webster went to the worsham hotel, where he spent the night, and at five o'clock in the morning, after making a few preparations, and dispatching an early breakfast, he repaired to the depot. arriving there he looked carefully about on all sides, but saw no one who seemed to take any interest in his movements. "so far, so good," he muttered, as he boarded the train; and the next minute he was leaving the scene of his most recent exploits with the speed of the wind. he was himself too shrewd and cunning to feel absolutely sure that he was not followed. his own experience in the art of "shadowing" told him he had not yet escaped the vigilant eyes of the safety committee, but he resolved to elude them if it was possible to do so. innumerable troops were being transported at this time, and the train was crowded with soldiers. webster amused himself by making the acquaintance of the officers, and skillfully drawing on their fund of information, until the train arrived at grand junction, where he decided to change cars for jackson, tennessee. accordingly, he abandoned the chattanooga cars and boarded the north-bound train, which was in waiting at the junction, and again he was whirled away across the verdure-clad country, this time toward the "land of the free." but no sooner was the train well under way than something which came under webster's observation removed from his mind all doubt as to whether he would be permitted to pursue his journey unmolested. he occupied a seat in the forward part of the car, and on turning carelessly away from the window after gazing out upon the landscape for awhile, he was somewhat surprised at seeing an individual standing on the front platform of the car, looking in through the glass door. it was a person whose face and figure had already become quite familiar to him, being no other than the man who had so persistently followed him for the past few days. "he seems determined not to let me get away," thought the scout; but neither in his face nor manner did he betray any of the disappointment he felt. he noticed that his pursuer was not alone this time, but was accompanied by another person--an ill-looking man of herculean proportions--with whom he conversed in an earnest, confidential way. when the train arrived at jackson, webster stepped out upon the platform of the depot, and the two agents of the safety committee did the same. the conductor stood near by, and webster spoke to him in a tone which he meant his shadows to hear, asking: "how soon will there be a train for humboldt?" "in twenty minutes," replied the conductor. "do you know anything about the hotels there?" inquired the scout. "i've got to stop two or three days in the town, and it's a strange place to me." the conductor recommended him to a good house convenient to the depot, and thanking him for the information, webster turned away. he had spoken in a tone that he knew must have been distinctly heard by his enemies, and he hoped this bit of stratagem would have the desired effect. he boarded the train for humboldt, and the brace of shadows promptly followed him, taking seats in the same car. while the train was speeding on its way, webster was aroused from a reverie by the voice of a woman saying: "pardon me, sir; may i occupy a portion of this seat?" he looked up; a tall, very respectable looking lady was standing in the aisle, and he saw in an instant that she was the person who had addressed him. "certainly, madam, certainly;" he replied; and quickly made room for her. she sat down beside him, and then, to his great surprise, she began to talk to him in a low, earnest tone, without once turning her face toward him. "you are going to humboldt?" she inquired. "i am," he answered, surprised at the question. "you are a northern man?" "madam!" a suspicion flashed, lightning-like, across his mind. "believe me, i am not an enemy," the lady went on, "i have been sitting in the rear part of this car i heard two men talking, and have reason to believe they were speaking about you. they said they would stop at the same hotel with you in humboldt, and keep a close watch over you, and if you attempt to go northward they will arrest you, take you back to memphis, and deal with you as they would with any northern spy. i advise you to be very careful, sir, for your life depends upon it." the train by this time was approaching humboldt, and the lady arose and disappeared before the astonished detective could tender his thanks for the warning. she was destined to remain an utter stranger to him for all time to come, for he never heard of her afterwards. as they entered the depot, webster passed out at the rear end of the car, and he noticed, with a smile of satisfaction, that his attendant shadows were making their way out at the front. as he stepped from the car he noticed a pile of baggage near him, and quickly stepping behind this, he watched the movements of the two men. apparently fully satisfied that their game would be safely bagged at the hotel, they left the depot and walked rapidly away in the direction of the public-house. his ruse worked to a charm. a violent shower happened to be passing over at this time, and it was only natural for the two "safety" men to suppose that webster had stopped to seek shelter in the depot for a few minutes. the express train from memphis was soon due, and as it came dashing in "on time," webster jumped aboard, and was on his way toward louisville, smiling in his sleeve as he thought of those two crafty foxes, whose cunning had overreached themselves, patiently awaiting his arrival at the hotel in humboldt. before crossing the kentucky line, webster put his rebel hat out of sight, and once more donned the one he had worn from the north. the remainder of his journey was made without incident, and in due time he arrived in cincinnati, and reported to me. [illustration: a hot lunch.] chapter xii. _i take a trip to the south.--danger in memphis.--a timely warning.--a persistent barber.--an unfortunate memory.--return to cincinnati._ timothy webster had scarcely departed upon his trip to memphis, when i was summoned for consultation with general mcclellan. upon repairing to his office, which i did immediately on receiving his message, i found him awaiting my arrival, and in a few minutes i was informed of his wishes. he was desirous of ascertaining, as definitely as possible, the general feeling of the people residing south of the ohio river, in kentucky, tennessee, mississippi and louisiana, and requested that measures be at once taken to carry out his purposes. it was essentially necessary at the outset to become acquainted with all the facts that might be of importance hereafter, and no time offered such opportunities for investigations of this nature as the present, while the war movement was in its incipiency, and before the lines between the opposing forces had been so closely drawn as to render traveling in the disaffected district unsafe, if not utterly impossible. as this mission was of a character that required coolness and tact, as well as courage, and as most of my men had been detailed for duties in other sections of the rebellious country, i concluded to make the journey myself, and at once stated my intention to the general, who received it with every evidence of satisfaction and approval. "the very thing i should have proposed, major," said he; "and if you will undertake this matter, i have no fears of a failure, and every confidence in obtaining important developments." my action had been prompted by two impelling reasons. the first was the absence of the men whom i had thus far engaged, and who, as i have before stated, had been detailed upon missions of investigations in various parts of the south and west, and the other was a desire to see for myself the actual condition of affairs as they existed at that time. i have invariably found that a personal knowledge is far more satisfactory than that gleamed from others, and whenever it was possible, i have endeavored to acquire my information by such means. another advantage to be derived from a personal observation was that i would be necessarily forced to rely in many matters to which it would be impossible for me to devote my personal attention. having arranged everything to my satisfaction, in order that my absence would occasion no disarrangement in the proper conduct of the investigations already commenced, i left my office in the charge of mr. george h. bangs, my general superintendent, and started upon my journey, intending to be as rapid in my movements as circumstances would permit, and to return at as early a date as i could, consistently with the proper performance of the duties intrusted to me. my first objective point was the city of louisville, in kentucky. the position of this state at the present time was a peculiar one. her governor, if not a southern conspirator, was, if his own language was to be relied upon, both in opinion and expectation, a disunionist. he had at first remonstrated against the action of the cotton states, but after that action had been taken, he was unqualifiedly opposed to coercing them back to obedience, and in addition to this, he had endeavored to excite his own people to a resistance to the principles and policy of the party in power. the people, however, did not sustain his views, and while the popular sentiment was deeply pro-slavery, and while her commerce bound her strongly to the south, the patriotic example and teachings of henry clay had impressed upon them a reverence and love for union higher and purer than any mere pressing interests or selfish advantage. at louisville, therefore, i found a degree of excitement prevailing that was naturally to be expected from the unsettled condition of public affairs. the governor had refused to comply with the president's call for troops, and the state had been in a state of hopeless bewilderment and conflict of opinion in consequence. a strong minority, arrogating to themselves an undue importance, were endeavoring, by self-assertion and misapplied zeal, to carry the state into the secession fold, but thus far they had made no substantial progress against an overwhelming undercurrent of union sentiment. failing in this, their energies were now devoted to an effort to place the state in a neutral attitude, which would prevent her from taking a decided stand upon the question of supporting the union. thus far they had been temporarily successful, and on the th day of may the house of representatives passed resolutions declaring that kentucky "should during the contest occupy the position of strict neutrality." this was the existing condition of affairs when i arrived in louisville, and which i found prevalent throughout all the sections of the state i passed. representing myself as a southern man, a resident of georgia, i had no difficulty in engaging in conversation with the prominent men of both elements, and i decided then, from my own observations, that kentucky would not cast her fortunes with the south, but that, after the bubble of unnatural excitement had burst and expended itself, the loyal heart would be touched, and "old kaintuck" would eventually keep step to the music of the union. results proved that i was not mistaken, and not many weeks elapsed before union camps were established within her domain, and the broad-shouldered kentuckians were swearing allegiance to the old flag, and, shouldering their muskets, entered into the contest with a determination to support the government. passing on undisturbed, but everywhere on the alert, and making copious notes of everything that transpired, that i considered at all material to the furtherance of the loyal cause, i reached bowling green. at this place i found a very decided union sentiment, the stars and stripes were floating from the various buildings, and the union men were largely in the majority. there was one great cause for disquietude, however, which was very manifest even to a casual observer. many residents of bowling green and the vicinity were slave owners, and the impression had become general throughout the negro communities that the opening of the war naturally and inevitably involved their freedom, an opinion, however, without sure foundation, at that time, but which was eventually to be justified by subsequent events. the slaves had heard their masters discussing the various questions which naturally grew out of a conflict of this chance character, and in which it was generally admitted, that emancipation must follow the commencement and continuance of hostilities between the two sections. it was not surprising therefore, that this opinion should spread among the entire colored element, or that it should be greedily accepted by these down-trodden blacks as the harbinger of a freedom for which they had been praying. in conversation with one of the leading men of bowling green, i was thoroughly impressed with the importance of this phase of circumstances. "mr. allen," said he, "you have no idea of the danger we are apprehending from the blacks. we know that the moment that lincoln sends his abolition soldiers among our niggers, they will break out and murder all before them. why, sir," continued he, "we cannot sleep sound at nights for fear of the niggers. they think lincoln is going to set them free." "why," i interrupted, "what can they know about lincoln?" "they know too much about him," he replied; "there has been so much talk about this matter all through the state, that the niggers know as much about it as we do." "you should not talk before your niggers; it is not safe, and i never do it." as i never owned a negro this was perfectly true. "i know we should not, but it is too late now; they know as much as we do, and too much for our safety or peace of mind. why, sir, we are compelled to mount guard at nights ourselves for mutual protection, and though there has been no outbreak as yet, and i believe that this is the only thing that keeps them in check." "it would be a good plan," said i, anxious to preserve my reputation as a southern pro-slavery man, "to take all the men and boys over fifteen years of age and sell them south." "that's the devil of it," he replied, "we cannot do that; it was tried only last week, and a nigger that i was offered $ , for last year, i could not sell at any price." already, it seemed, the fruits of the slavery agitation were being made apparent. the very institution for which these misguided men were periling their lives, and sacrificing their fortunes, was threatened with demolition; and the slaves who had so long and so often felt the lash of their masters, were now becoming a source of fear to the very men who had heretofore held them in such utter subjection. this state of affairs i found to be prevalent all over the country which i visited. bright visions of freedom danced before the eyes of the slaves, and they awaited anxiously the dawning of the day, when the coming of the soldiers of the north would strike from their limbs the shackles they had worn so long. in the after years of this bloody struggle, many deeds of self-sacrifice were performed by these slaves, when, resisting the dazzling opportunities to obtain their coveted liberty, they cast their lot with the families of their old masters, whose male members were fighting to continue their bondage. many cases could be cited where, but for the faithful labors and devotion of the despised slave, the families of many of the proud aristocrats would have starved. but the faithful heart of the negro ever beat warmly for those whom he had served so long, and disregarding the tempting allurements of freedom, he devoted himself to the service and to the maintenance of those who had regarded him as so much merchandise, or simply as a beast of burden. at bowling green i purchased a splendid bay horse, whose swiftness and powers of endurance i felt assured could be relied upon, intending to make the rest of my journey on horseback. by this means i would be the better able to control my movements than if i were compelled to depend upon the railroads for transportation. i would also be enabled to stop at any place where i might find the necessity, or a favorable opportunity for observation. i had no cause to regret the purchase i had made, for right nobly did the spirited animal which i had selected perform the arduous duties that were imposed upon him. day after day he would be urged forward, and under his flying feet the distance sped away almost imperceptibly, and each morning found my charger rested and refreshed, and ready for the day's journey, be the weather fair or foul, or the roads easy or rugged. i reached nashville, tennessee, in due season, and resolved to devote several days to my investigations. here the disunion element was more united and outspoken, but even here, i detected evidences of a union sentiment which was none the less profound, because of the danger which its utterances would have incurred. there could be no doubt that this state had resolved to cast her fortunes with the confederacy, and the rebel general pillow had been for some time engaged in fortifying the city of memphis. at nashville i met a number of officers of the rebel army, all of whom were full of enthusiasm, and whose bombastic utterances in view of the eventual results, seem at this time almost too absurd to be repeated. here also i came in contact with an army surgeon, whose head was full of wild _quixotic_ schemes for destroying the northern armies by other processes than that of legitimate warfare. one of his plans i remember was to fill a commissary wagon with whisky, in which had been previously mixed a generous quantity of strychnine. the wagon was then to be broken and abandoned and left upon the road so as to fall into the hands of the union soldiers. of course, the liquor would be consumed by the finders, and the valiant doctor, with evident satisfaction to himself, but to the equally evident disgust of his companions, loudly vaunted his death-dealing and barbarous scheme. this brave warrior, however, i learned afterward, had fled in terror at the first fire, and was afterwards dishonorably dismissed from the service he was so well calculated to disgrace. so far as i was afterward able to learn, this grand project for wholesale slaughter, of the valorous doctor, received no sympathy or support from his more honorable associates, and the soldiers were enabled to drink their whiskey untainted with any other poisonous influences than is naturally a part of its composition. leaving nashville, i spurred on in the direction of memphis, and in due time reached the city, which now presented a far different aspect than when i visited it only a few years before. then the country was at peace. the war cloud had not burst with all its fury over a happy land, and the people were quietly pursuing their avocations. i was engaged in a detective operation which required my presence in the city, and had been in consultation with some of the express company's officials, for whom i was attempting to discover the perpetrators of a robbery of one of their safes. turning a corner i came upon a scene that stirred my feelings to the utmost. it was the market square, and the merchandise disposed of were human beings. there was the auction-block and the slave-pen. men, women and children were being knocked down to the highest bidder. wives were sold away from their husbands, and children from their parents. old and young were submitted to the vulgar speculators in flesh and blood, and their value was approximated by their apparent age, strength and healthfulness. my blood boiled in my veins as i witnessed, for the first time, the heart-rendering scenes which i had only heard or read of before. the cold cruelty of the buyers and abject misery of the sold, filled me with a spirit of opposition to this vile traffic that gave me renewed strength to fulfill my duty as an active abolitionist, and to labor earnestly in the cause of emancipation. i shall never forget the events of that day, and i can recall the feeling of intense satisfaction which i experienced on my second visit, when even then, i could see the dawning of that liberty for which i had labored, and i knew that the day of emancipation could not be far distant. then the fair fame of independent america would no longer be blackened by the pressure of the slave or the master, but all men under the protection of the starry banner would be free and equal under the law. now the streets were filled with soldiers, some of them fully armed and equipped, and others provided with but ordinary clothing, and furnished with such inefficient arms as they had brought with them from their homes. a most motley gathering they were, and their awkward and irregular evolutions at this time gave but little promise of the splendid army of which they were destined in the near future to form so important a part. the work of fortifying the city had been progressing in earnest; earthworks had been thrown up all along the banks of the mississippi, and batteries were already in position, whose guns frowned threateningly upon the river. here to be known or suspected as a union man was to merit certain death, and to advocate any theory of compromise between the two sections was to be exiled from the city. here rebeldom was rampant and defiant, and i had some difficulty in evading the suspicions of the watchful and alert southron, who regarded all strange civilians with doubtful scrutiny, and whose "committee of safety" were ever on the _qui vive_ to detect those whose actions savored in the least of a leaning towards the north. fearlessly, however, i mingled with these men, and as i lost no opportunity in pronouncing my views upon the righteousness of the cause of secession, and of my belief in its certain triumph, i obtained a ready passport to the favor and confidence of the most prominent of their leaders. i talked unreservedly with the private soldier and the general officer, with the merchant and the citizen, and by all was regarded as a stanch southern man, whose interests and sympathies were wedded to rebellion. general pillow was in command at this point, and almost every citizen was enrolled as a soldier, whose services would be cheerfully and promptly rendered whenever the call should be made upon them. even this redoubtable chieftain was not proof against my blandishments, and he little dreamed when on one occasion he quietly sipped his brandy and water with me, that he was giving valuable information to his sworn foe, and one to whom every idea gained was an advantage to the government he was attempting to destroy. it is needless to relate the valuable items of information which i was enabled to glean upon this journey--information which in later days was of vast importance to the union commanders, but which at this time would only burden a narrative of the events which they so ably assisted to successful results. here, as in many other places, i found that my best source of information was the colored men, who were employed in various capacities of a military nature which entailed hard labor. the slaves, without reserve, were sent by their masters to perform the manual labor of building earthworks and fortifications, in driving the teams and in transporting cannon and ammunition, and, led by my natural and deep-seated regard for these sable bondsmen, i mingled freely with them, and found them ever ready to answer questions and to furnish me with every fact which i desired to possess. here and there i found an unassuming white man whose heart was still with the cause of the union, but whose active sympathy could not at this time be of service to the country, as he dared not utter a voice in defense of his opinions. from all these sources, however, i was successful in posting myself fully in regard to the movements and intentions of the rebel authorities and officers, and, as i believed, had also succeeded in concealing my identity. [illustration: "_fo' god, massa allen, ye'll be a dead man in de mo'nin'!_" p. .] on the third evening of my sojourn in memphis, however, my dreams of fancied security were suddenly dispelled, and i was brought face to face with the reality of danger. i had retired early to my room, according to my general custom, and had scarcely been seated when i was disturbed by a faint but quick and distinct knocking at my door. i arose hastily, as it was something unusual for me to receive visitors after i had retired, and throwing open the door, i was somewhat surprised to see, standing before me, in a state of unmistakable excitement, the colored porter of the hotel. before i had time to question him, he sprang into the room and closed the door behind him. his countenance evinced a degree of terror that immediately filled me with alarm. his eyes were fixed wildly upon me, his lips were quivering, and his knees trembled under him, as though unable to sustain the weight of his body. indeed, so frightened was he, that he appeared to be struggling forcibly to do so. "what is the matter, jem?" i inquired, in as calm a tone as i could assume, and with a view of reassuring him. "what has happened to frighten you so?" "'fore god, massa allen," ejaculated the black, succeeding by a great effort in finding his voice, "you done can't sleep in this housn to-night, ef ye do, ye'll be a dead man before morning." as may be imagined, this information was not of a very agreeable nature, indefinite as it was; i felt assured that my informant could be relied on that something had occurred to endanger my safety, and i became impatient to learn what he knew. "out with it, jem," said i, "and let me know what it is all about." i spoke cheerfully and confidently, and the coolness of my manner had the effect of restoring the equilibrium of my sable friend, and, recovering himself with an effort, he began to explain: "i tell you what it is, massa allen, and i'se gwan to tell it mighty quick. ye see, de general hab got a lot of spies up de river at cairo, a watching of the linkum sogers, and one o' dem fellows jes came in as you were going up stairs. de berry minit dat he seed you he said to de man what was wid him, 'dat man is 'spicious; i seed him in cincinnati two weeks ago, and he ain't down here for no good,' and he started right off for de general, to tell him all about it. i kem right up heah, massa, and you must git away as fast as ye can." this was too important to be ignored. i had no desire to be captured at that time, and i had no doubt of the correctness of the porter's story. i resolved to act at once upon the suggestion, and to make good my escape before it was too late. my admonitory friend was fearfully in earnest about getting me away, and he quickly volunteered to procure my horse, which i had quartered in close proximity to the hotel, and to furnish me with a guide who would see me safely through the lines and outside of the city. bidding jem make all possible haste in his movements, i gathered together my few belongings, and in a few minutes i descended the stairs and made my exit through the rear of the house. through the faithfulness of jem, and the careful guidance of the watchful negro he had provided me with, i was soon riding away from threatened danger and ere morning broke i had proceeded far upon my way. how much service these faithful blacks had been to me, i did not fully learn until some time afterwards, when i was informed by timothy webster, who arrived in memphis following my departure, and who thus learned the full particulars of the exhausting pursuit of one of lincoln's spies, who had mysteriously disappeared from the chief hotel, while a guard was being detailed to effect his arrest. i met the faithful jem several years later, when he had worked his way as a refugee from his native state and entered the union lines in virginia, and he was soon afterwards attached to my force, where he proved his devotion in a manner that was quite convincing. my faithful steed, who had become thoroughly rested after his long journey, bore me safely through this danger, and in due time i entered the state of mississippi. here rebellion and disunion were the order of the day, and a widespread determination existed to fight the cause of the south to the bitter end. stopping one night at grenada, i pushed on my way to jackson, and here i resolved to remain a day or two, in order to make a thorough investigation of the place and its surroundings. putting up my horse, i engaged quarters for myself at the principal hotel in the city, and feeling very much fatigued with my long journey, i retired early to my room and passed a long night in refreshing sleep. in the morning i arose about five o'clock, as is my general custom. i was feeling in excellent health and spirits; my journey had thus far been fully as successful as i could have desired; and safely concealed about my person i had items of value that would amply repay me for the fatigues i had undergone and the dangers i had passed. i had plans of the roads, a description of the country, a pretty correct estimate of the troops and their various locations and conditions, and altogether i felt very well satisfied with myself and with the results of my mission. as i descended the stairs, i noticed a fine soldierly officer standing in the doorway, and after bidding him a hearty good-morning, i invited him to accompany me to the saloon of the hotel, where we mutually indulged in a decoction as is the universal custom in southern cities. after i had obtained my breakfast, it occurred to me that, before attempting any active measures for the day, i owed it to myself to procure the services of a barber for a much-needed shave. i had been traveling for a number of days, and my face had been a stranger to a razor for a long time, and i concluded i would be more presentable if i consulted a tonsorial artist. this was an unfortunate idea, and i soon had occasion to regret having entertained it for a moment. i would have been far more contented if i had bestowed no thoughts upon my grizzled beard, and allowed nature to take its course with my hirsute appendage. entirely unconscious, however, of what was in store for me, i entered the well-fitted saloon of the hotel, and patiently waited my turn to submit myself to the deft fingers of the knight of the razor. in response to the universal and well-understood call of "next!" i took my seat in the luxuriously upholstered chair, and in a few minutes my face was covered with the foamy lather applied by the dapper little german into whose hands i had fallen. i noticed when i sat down that the man wore a puzzled and speculative look, as though he was struggling with some vexing lapse of memory, and as he drew the keen edge of the razor across my face, his eyes were fixed intensely upon my features. his manner annoyed me considerably, and i was at a loss to account for his strange demeanor. whatever ideas i may have entertained with regard to this singular action were, however, soon set at rest, only to give place to a feeling of unrestful anger. he had just cleared one side of my face of its stubby growth of hair, when a smile irradiated his face, and with a look of self-satisfied recognition and pride, he addressed me: "vy, how do you do, mr. bingerdon?" had a thunderbolt fallen at my feet i could not have been more perfectly amazed, and for a moment i could scarcely tell whether i was afoot or on horseback. i devoutly wished that i was anywhere than with this dutch barber, whose memory was so uncomfortably retentive. i had been too accustomed to sudden surprises, however, to lose my self-control, and i replied to him, with an unmoved face and as stern a voice as i could command: "i am not mr. bingerdon, and i don't know the man." "oh yes, your name is bingerdon, and you leev in geecago." the face of the german was so good-natured, and he appeared quite delighted at recognizing me, but for myself i was feeling very uncomfortable indeed. i did not know the man, nor what he knew of me. i knew, however, that he was perfectly right about my identity, and i knew also that it would be very dangerous for his knowledge to become general. "i tell you i don't know the man you are speaking of," said i, sternly. [illustration: "_if you say another word to me, i'll whip you on the spot._" p. .] "oy, mr. bingerdon," he replied, in a grieved tone, "i know you well. don't you mind me shaving you in the sherman house in geecago, you was a customer of mine." the pertinacity of the man was simply exasperating, and fearing that his memory would be likely to get me into trouble, as several people were listening to our conversation, i resolved to end the difficulty at once. jerking the towel from around my neck and wiping the lather from the unshaved portion of my face, i leapt from the chair, exclaiming angrily: "i tell you i know nothing of you mr. bingerdon, or any other d----d yankee abolitionist, and if you say another word to me upon this subject, i'll whip you on the spot!" the barber presented a most ridiculous appearance; he was utterly frightened at my manner, and yet so convinced was he that i was the man he took me for, that he appeared more amazed at my denial, than at my threats of violence. meanwhile, the occupants of the saloon began to crowd around us, and several came in from the adjoining rooms. turning to them with well-simulated anger, i told them the story i had invented; i lived near augusta, georgia; never was in chicago, did not know mr. pinkerton or any of his gang. then i denounced the discomfited barber in round terms, and finished by inviting the entire crowd to take a drink with me. this they all did with alacrity, and by the time they had drained their glasses, every one of the party were strong adherents of mine. we then returned to the barber-shop, and so thoroughly was the crowd convinced of my truthfulness, that they were eager to punish the innocent occasion of my anger. one impetuous individual wanted to hang him on sight, and his proposition was received with general favor; but finding i had succeeded in evading detection for myself, i interfered in the poor fellow's behalf and he was finally let off. after another drink all round i managed to get away from the party, and it was not long before i was upon my horse, and traveling away from the possibility of a recurrence of such an accidental discovery. i procured a razor and shaving materials, and performed that operation for myself, as i did not care to excite curiosity by exhibiting my half-shaved face to any more inquisitive barbers. a few miles outside of the town i sold my horse, and concluding that i had obtained as much information as was desirable at that time, and as i had already been absent from headquarters longer than i had intended, i made my way back to cincinnati by a circuitous route, and reached there in safety, well pleased with my work, and quite rejoiced to find that general mcclellan was fully satisfied with what i had learned. chapter xiii. _east and west virginia.--seceding from secession.--my scouts in virginia.--a rebel captain entertains "my lord."--an old justice dines with royalty.--a lucky adventure.--a runaway horse.--a rescue._ at this time the condition of affairs in the state of virginia--the "old dominion," as it was generally denominated--presented a most perplexing and vexatious problem. the antagonistic position of the two sections of that state demanded early consideration and prompt action on the part of the federal government, both in protecting the loyal people in the western section, and of preserving their territory to the union cause. within the borders of this commonwealth there existed two elements, directly opposed to each other, and both equally pronounced in the declaration of their political opinions. the lines of demarkation between these diverse communities were the allegheny mountains, which extended through the very middle of the state, from north-east to south-west, and divided her territory into two divisions, slightly unequal in size, but evidently different in topographical features and personal characteristics. from the nature of its earlier settlement, and by reason of climate, soil and situation, eastern virginia remained the region of large plantations, with a heavy slave population, and of profitable agriculture, especially in the production of tobacco. west virginia, on the contrary, having been first settled by hunters, pioneers, lumbermen and miners, possessed little in common with her more wealthy and aristocratic neighbors beyond the mountains. they made their homes in the wilds of the woods, and among the rocky formations, under which was hidden the wealth they were seeking to develop, and in time this western country became the seat of a busy manufacturing industry, with a diversified agriculture for local consumption, while the east was largely given up to the production of great staples for export. as a natural result, the population and wealth of the eastern portion, which was thus made to stand in the relation of a mere tributary province to her grasping neighbor, who selfishly absorbed the general taxes for local advantage. the slave interest also entered largely into the creation and continuance of this antagonistic feeling. according to a census, which had been recently taken, it was ascertained that eastern virginia held but a few thousands. it was not a matter of surprise, therefore that secessionism should be rampant in the east, and that a union sentiment should almost universally prevail in the west. as the institution of slavery was more or less the cause of the war, here, as in other parts of the south, secession reared its most formidable front where the slave interest predominated, and treason was more alert in the centers of accumulated wealth and family pride, whose foundations were laid by the suffering and the toil of the african bondsmen. the war had been waged to defend the "divine institution," and it was scarcely to be expected that such a cause would be valiantly championed by men whose self-reliance and personal independence had endeared to them the rights of free and honorable manhood. when the convention of virginia met to consider the question of secession, the slave-holding dignitaries were somewhat startled by the logical, but novel, declaration of one of the western members, that "the right of revolution can be exercised as well by a portion of the citizens of a state against their state government, as it can be exercised by the whole people of a state against their federal government." this was followed by another, more pointed and revolutionary, "that any change in the relation virginia now sustains to the federal government, against the wishes of even a respectable minority of her people, would be sufficient to justify them in changing their relation to the state government by separating themselves from that section of the state that had thus wantonly disregarded their interests and defied their will." the convention, however, denying the pertinency of this logic, passed its secret ordinance of secession on the th day of april, and within a week popular movements were on foot in the various towns and counties of western virginia, to effect a division of the state. the people united in a unanimous protest against the efforts of the slave-holding aristocrats to carry them into a cotton confederacy, and a determination to "secede from secession," was manifested everywhere. the loyal determination was rapidly followed by popular organization, an appeal for assistance was made to the government at washington, who promised them countenance and support, and on the th day of may, delegates from twenty-five counties of west virginia met at wheeling, to devise such action as would enable them to fully and finally repudiate the treasonable revolt of east virginia. many circumstances favored their position. the state of ohio, immediately adjoining, was organizing her military force of volunteers, and western virginia was, not long after, attached to the department of the ohio under command of general mcclellan. the blockade of washington, and other events, had operated to keep the western troops on the ohio line, and the unionists of west virginia found a protecting military force at once in their immediate vicinity, with a commanding officer who was instructed to give them every encouragement and support. meanwhile, governor letcher, of virginia, ignoring the attitude assumed by the people of the west, had issued his proclamation calling for the organization of the state militia, and including western virginia in the call. prompted by a spirit of arrogance or over-confidence, he at an early day dispatched officers to that locality to collect and organize the militia of western virginia. owing to the sparsity of the population, and the hilly and mountainous situation of the country, there were but two principal localities or lines of travel, where a concentration of forces could be best effected--one of these being the line of the baltimore and ohio railroad, and the other the valley of the great kanawha river. in these districts governor letcher sent his recruiting agents, but they soon returned reports of a very discouraging character. the rebel emissaries found the feeling very bitter: that union organizations existed in most of the counties, and that while fragments of rebel companies were here and there springing up, it was very evident that no local force sufficient to hold the country, would respond to the confederate appeal, while the close proximity of union forces at several points along the ohio, pointed to a short tenure of confederate authority. this information was not at all cheering to the rebel governor of the state, and he determined to maintain his authority in the disaffected districts with armed forces from the eastern portion of the state. to accomplish this, he detailed a few available companies from staunton to march toward beverly, from which point they could menace and overawe the town of grafton, the junction of the main stem of the baltimore and ohio railroad, with its branches extending to parkersburg and wheeling. the inhabitants showed more alacrity, however, to take up arms for the government than for governor letcher or general lee. a union western virginia regiment, under the command of colonel kelley, began to gather recruits rapidly at wheeling, while the rebel camps between beverly and grafton were comparatively deserted, and colonel porterfield, who had been sent under orders of governor letcher, found his efforts at recruiting decidedly unsuccessful. on the rd day of may the state voted upon the ordinance of secession, and east virginia, under complete military domination, accepted the ordinance, while west virginia, comparatively free, voted to reject the idea of secession. immediately after the result was ascertained, the rebel troops became aggressive, and colonel porterfield dispatched several of his companies to burn the bridge on the baltimore & ohio railroad. the appearance of these troops was quickly brought to the notice of the federal authorities at washington. on the th day of may the secretary of war and general scott telegraphed this information to general mcclellan, and inquired "whether its influence could not be counteracted." general mcclellan at once replied in the affirmative, and this was the sole order he received from washington regarding a campaign in virginia. on the th, the general ordered two regiments to cross the river at wheeling, and two others at parkersburg. they were to move forward simultaneously by the branch railroads from each of these points to their junction at grafton. the burnt bridges were restored in their passage, and after a most brilliant strategic movement, porterfield was completely surprised, and the rebels were forced to disperse, in utter rout and confusion. this complete success of the first dash at the enemy had the most inspiriting effect upon the union troops, and also encouraged and fortified the western virginia unionists, in their determination to break away from the east and to form a new state. this movement was successfully accomplished, and early in july they elected two united states senators, who were admitted to, and took part in the national legislature. governor pierpont, who was head of this provisional state government, organized at wheeling, made a formal application to the united states for aid to suppress the rebellion and protect the people against domestic violence. general mcclellan, in furtherance of this object, ordered additional forces into the state from his department. in order to act intelligently in the matter, it was necessary that some definite information should be derived respecting the country which was now to be protected, and from which it was necessary the invading rebels should be driven. for this purpose the general desired that i should dispatch several of my men, who, by assuming various and unsuspicious characters, would be able to travel over the country, obtain a correct idea of its topography, ascertain the exact position and designs of the secessionists. for this duty i selected a man named price lewis, who had just returned from a trip to the south, and whom i had reason to be satisfied was equal to the task. i resolved, therefore, that he should be one of the party to make this journey, together with several others who were delegated for the same purpose. in order to afford variety to the professions of my operatives, and because of his fitness for the character, i decided that price lewis should represent himself as an englishman traveling for pleasure, believing that he would thus escape a close scrutiny or a rigid examination, should he, by any accident, fall into the hands of the rebels. procuring a comfortable-looking road-wagon and a pair of strong gray horses, which were both substantial-looking and good roadsters, i stocked the vehicle with such articles of necessity and luxury as would enable them to subsist themselves if necessary, and at the same time give the appearance of truth to such professions as the sight-seeing englishman might feel authorized to make. i provided him also with a number of english certificates of various kinds, and i also supplied him with english money which could be readily exchanged for such currency that would best suit his purposes in the several localities which he would be required to visit. lewis wore a full beard, and this was trimmed in the most approved english fashion, and when fully equipped for his journey he presented the appearance of a thorough well-to-do englishman, who might even be suspected of having "blue blood" in his veins. in order that he might the more fully sustain the new character he was about to assume, and to give an added dignity to his position, i concluded to send with him a member of my force who would act in the capacity of coachman, groom and body servant, as occasion should demand. the man whom i selected for this role was a jolly, good-natured, and fearless yankee named samuel bridgeman, a quick, sharp-witted young man, who had been in my employment some time, and who had on several occasions proved himself worthy of trust and confidence in matters that required tact as well as boldness, and good sense as well as keen wit. calling sam into my office, i explained to him fully the nature of the duties he would be required to perform, and when i had concluded i saw by the merry twinkle in his eyes, and from the readiness with which he caught at my suggestions, that he thoroughly understood and had decided to carry out his part of the programme to the very letter. in addition to these, i arranged a route for two other men of my force. they were to travel through the valley of the great kanawha river, and to observe carefully everything that came under their notice, which might be of importance in perfecting a military campaign, in case the rebels should attempt hostile measures, or that general mcclellan might find it necessary to promptly clear that portion of virginia from the presence of secession troops. these two men were to travel ostensibly as farm laborers, and their verdant appearance was made to fully conform to such avocations. everything being in readiness, the two parties were started, and we will follow their movements separately, as they were to travel by different routes. price lewis, the pseudo englishman, and sam bridgeman, who made quite a smart-looking valet in his new costume, transferred their horses, wagon and stores on board the trim little steamer "cricket," at cincinnati, intending to travel along the ohio river, and effect a landing at guyandotte, in western virginia, at which point they were to disembark and pursue their journey overland through the country. i accompanied lewis to the wharf, and after everything had been satisfactorily arranged, i bade him good-bye, and the little steamer sailed away up the river. there were the usual number of miscellaneous passengers upon the boat, and added to these were a number of union officers, who had been dispatched upon various missions throughout that portion of the state of ohio. these men left the steamer as their points of destination were reached, and after they had departed, several of the passengers who had hitherto remained silent, became very talkative. they began in a cautious manner to express their opinions, with a view of eliciting some knowledge of the sympathies of their fellow-travelers in the important struggle that was now impending. lewis had maintained a quiet, dignified reserve, which, while it did not forbid any friendly approaches from his fellow-passengers, at the same time rendered them more respectful, and prevented undue familiarity. sam bridgeman contributed materially to this result; his deference to "my lord" was very natural, and the respect with which he received his commands convinced the passengers at once that the english-looking gentleman was a man of some importance. the passengers all appeared to be union men, and while they expressed their regrets that the war had commenced, they regarded their separation from eastern virginia, with undisguised satisfaction. at midnight, on the second evening, the boat landed at guyandotte, and samuel, with a great deal of importance, attended to the transfer of his master and the equipage from the boat to the wharf. here they found a number of men in uniform, who were ascertained to be representatives of the "home guard," and in a few minutes bridgeman had secured the services of two of them, to assist him in safely landing their effects. this being satisfactorily accomplished, he, apparently in a sly manner, treated them to a drop of good whisky, which formed part of the stores they had been provided with. stopping at the hotel over night, they continued their journey on the following morning. they drove leisurely along, and at about ten o'clock they stopped at a farm-house to rest their horses. they remained here until nearly three o'clock in the afternoon, conversing with the old farmer, who seemed to be much pained at the condition of affairs, but who had two sons who had joined the rebel army. they renewed their journey in the afternoon, and in about two hours reached the little village of colemouth, where there was a rebel encampment. on passing this they were halted by the guard, who inquired their business and destination. lewis told him he was an englishman, accompanied only by his servant, and that he was traveling through the country for pleasure. the guard informed them that he could not let them pass, and asked lewis to go with him to the captain's headquarters, which was located in a large stone house, a few hundred yards distant. my operative willingly consented, and leaving sam in charge of his carriage, he accompanied the soldier to the officer's quarters. he was ushered into a large and well-furnished apartment on the second floor, and in a few minutes the captain came in. [illustration: _an english lord and a rebel captain._ p. .] he greeted my operative pleasantly, and informed him that he regretted the necessity of detaining him, but orders had to be obeyed. lewis related in substance what he had already stated to the guard, which statement the captain unhesitatingly received, and after a pleasant conversation, he invited the detective to accept the hospitality of the camp. an english gentleman traveling for pleasure was not to be treated with discourtesy, and upon lewis' accepting of his invitation, a soldier was dispatched to bring the horses and carriage and their impatient driver into camp. supper was ordered, and in a short time the captain and his guest were discussing a repast which was far more appetizing than soldiers' fare usually is. during the meal sam stood behind the chair of lewis, and awaited upon him in the most approved fashion, replying invariably with a deferential, "yes, my lord." after full justice had been done to the repast, price directed bridgeman to bring in from the carriage a couple of bottles of champagne, and by the time the hour of retiring had arrived the detective had succeeded in impressing his entertainer with a very exalted opinion of his rank and standing when at home. lewis, being an englishman by birth, was very well posted about english affairs, and he entertained his host with several very well invented anecdotes of the crimea, in which he was supposed to have taken an active part, and his intimacy with lord raglan, the commander of the british army, gained for him the unbounded admiration and respect of the doughty captain. from this officer lewis learned that there were a number of troops in charleston, but a few miles distant, and that general wise, who was then in command, had arrived there that day. after a refreshing sleep and a bounteous breakfast, lewis informed the captain that he would continue his journey toward charleston, and endeavor to obtain an interview with general wise. the captain cordially recommended him to do so, and furnished him with passports which would carry him without question or delay upon the road. as they were about taking their leave the captain put into lewis' hands an unsealed letter, at the same time remarking with great earnestness: "my lord, i beg of you to accept the inclosed letter of introduction to general wise; as i am personally acquainted with him, this letter may be of some service to you, and i should be only too happy if it will be so." "thank you," replied lewis, "but you have been far too kind already, and believe me i shall always recall my entertainment at your hands with pleasure." the valiant captain was not aware that he had been furnishing very valuable information to his gentlemanly visitor, and that while he was unsuspectingly answering his well-directed questions, his servant, the quiet sam bridgeman, was unobservedly making notes of all that he heard in relation to the situation of affairs and with regard to the probable movements of the rebel troops. a rather ridiculous incident occurred to our two travelers after leaving the camp. they had proceeded but a short distance upon their way, when one of the horses they were driving cast a shoe, which made it necessary for them to stop at a little village and secure the services of a blacksmith. driving up to the hotel, lewis alighted from the wagon, while bridgeman drove to the blacksmith-shop in order to have his horse attended to. as lewis ascended the steps of the hotel he noticed a tall, rather commanding-looking gentleman seated upon the porch, who was evidently scrutinizing his appearance, very carefully. the stranger was a man about sixty years of age, but remarkably well preserved, and the lines on his face scarcely gave but little indication of his years. there was an air of seeming importance about him which impressed lewis with the fact that he must be one of the dignitaries of the place, and as he approached him he very politely raised his hat and saluted him. the old gentleman returned the salutation with an inquiring gaze, and lewis, in order to pave the way to his acquaintance, invited him to partake of a drink, which was cordially accepted. in a few minutes, under its influence, the two men were conversing with all the freedom of old friends. lewis ascertained that his companion was a justice of the peace, an office of some importance in that locality, and that the old gentleman was disposed to give to his judicial position all the dignity which a personal appreciation of his standing demanded. in a quiet manner, lewis at once gave the justice to understand his appreciating the honor he had received in meeting him, and by a few well-administered flatteries, succeeded in completely winning the kind regards of the old gentleman. their pleasant conversation was progressing with very favorable success, when sam bridgeman drove up with the team, having succeeded in finding a smithy and in having the lost shoe replaced. with a deferential, semi-military salute, he addressed lewis: "we are all ready, my lord." at the mention of the title the old fellow jumped to his feet in blank amazement, and in the most obsequious manner, and with an air of humility, that, compared with his bombastic tone of a few moments before, was perfectly ridiculous. jerking off his hat and placing it under his left arm, he advanced, and said: "if my lord would do me the honor to accept my poor hospitality, i would only be too happy to have the pleasure of his company for dinner; my house is only a short distance off, on the road to charleston, and will detain you no longer than to rest and feed your horses, and partake of a true southern meal." lewis hesitated a moment, and then remembering that he had represented himself as traveling purely for pleasure, he did not see how he could avoid accepting his kind invitation. "i have heard, sir, of the hospitable character of the southern gentlemen, and i assure you i shall be most happy to avail myself of your kindness." the old justice could not conceal his pleasure at the prospect of entertaining a "live lord" in his own house, and with evident delight he accepted a seat in lewis' carriage. he directed the way to his dwelling, which stood back from the road, surrounded by a grove of lofty pines, and then invited his guest within; intrusting the care of the team to the care of sam and one of the servants, they entered the house, and were soon engaged in discussing the situation of affairs, both north and south. lewis informed the old justice that his name was henry tracy, of oxford, england, and that his object was to reach charleston, but that he was not aware that the country was so unsettled, or he would not have ventured on this trip. he then related his adventure of the day before, and commented favorably on the gentlemanly bearing of the captain, and the manner in which he had been treated. they indulged in pleasant conversation, on various topics, until dinner was announced. when they had done justice to an excellent repast, they repaired to a shaded porch in the rear of the house, and lewis instructed sam to bring out a bottle of champagne and a bottle of brandy. these, as already intimated, had been labeled with foreign wrappers, so that the deception was complete. the brandy was a very ordinary article, and the wine of an inferior quality, but the old gentlemen went into ecstasies over it, and under its mellowing influence, he became familiar and confidential, and gave to my shrewd operative much valuable information. finally the justice grew profusely demonstrative, and leaning across the table, he said: "my lord, i have never tasted such brandy as you carry in all my life, i have a couple of warm friends outside whom i have taken the liberty to send for, and whom i know will be delighted to see you, and still more pleased to taste this excellent liquor." "certainly," replied lewis, "bring them in; i shall be happy to meet them." lewis supposed, of course, that the two men whom he had referred were planters and neighbors, but imagine his surprise when the justice returned, accompanied by the blacksmith and cobbler of the village. after being introduced to "my lord tracy," lewis invited them to take a glass with them, and with evident pleasure, yet with visible embarrassment, they accepted the invitation and seated themselves at the table. it was now that the old gentleman grew loquacious; he was loud and profuse in his praises of the brandy; he asserted again and again, that it had never been his good fortune to taste such liquor, in which encomiums the blacksmith and cobbler heartily joined. as the afternoon wore away, and the present supply was exhausted, sam was dispatched after another bottle, and the social meeting continued until evening. lewis was careful as to the amount he drank, and intensely enjoyed the whole affair. the idea of the blacksmith and cobbler hobnobbing with an english lord, struck him as being so ridiculously funny, that he laughed again and again at the absurdity of the situation. often during the evening he laughed immoderately, at what they supposed their own jokes and wit, when he was really thinking of the ridiculous comedy in which he was playing the leading part. when the hour for retiring arrived, the old man begged as a special favor that he would be allowed to keep one of the empty bottles, as a memento of the occasion of his lordship's dining with him, and to remind him of the pleasure he had enjoyed of drinking some rare old imported brandy (made in cincinnati). the blacksmith and cobbler also looked so longingly at the empty bottles before them, that lewis could scarcely refrain from laughing heartily, as he graciously complied with their request for a souvenir of the occasion. the evident satisfaction with which they appropriated a bottle apiece, as they started for home, and their hearty thanks as they bid him good-night, was heartily echoed by the old justice, who carefully laid his bottle away as a sacred relic of a never-to-be-forgotten event. while the party were enjoying themselves on the porch, sam bridgeman had been using his time well among the servants, and had gleaned much valuable information from them. they remained over night with the old gentleman, and on the following morning, after bidding him a kind farewell, they started on their journey. lewis did not forget, however, before leaving, to take a parting glass with his host, who seemed very reluctant to have them depart. they continued on their way towards charleston, traveling but slowly, as the roads were heavy from the recent rains. about noon they arrived at a farm-house, to which they had been recommended by their host of the night before. here they stopped for dinner, and after refreshing themselves, they again went on. the afternoon was warm and pleasant, and their journey lay through a beautiful stretch of country. driving quietly along, they beguiled the time admiring the beautiful scenery spread before them, and in pleasant converse. their enjoyment was, however, suddenly interrupted by the sound of loud voices and the clattering of horses' hoofs immediately behind him. quickly turning around, the cause of this unusual excitement was at once apparent. a fine black horse, covered with foam, was tearing down the turnpike at break-neck speed, and evidently running away. upon his back was seated a young lady, who bravely held her seat, and who was vainly attempting to restrain the unmanageable animal. some distance behind were a party of ladies and gentlemen on horseback, all spurring their horses to the utmost, as if with the intention of overtaking the flying steed in front of them. intense fear was depicted upon the countenances of those in the rear, and not without reason, for the situation of the young lady was dangerous indeed. quick as a flash, my operatives realized the situation of affairs, and the necessity for prompt action. without uttering a word, sam bridgeman turned his horses directly across the road, intending by that means to stop the mad course of the fiery charger approaching them. as he did so, lewis sprang from the wagon, and with the utmost coolness advanced to meet the approaching horse. on came the frightened animal at a speed that threatened every moment to hurl the brave girl from her seat, until he approached nearly to the point at which my operatives had stationed themselves, and then, evidently perceiving the obstructions in his path, he momentarily slackened pace. in that instant lewis sprang forward, and grasping the bridle firmly with a strong hand, he forced the frightened animal back upon his haunches. the danger was passed. the horse, feeling the iron grip upon the bridle, and recognizing the voice of authority, stood still and trembling in every joint, his reeking sides heaving, and his eyes flashing fire. the young lady, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, fell back in the saddle, and would have fallen but that sam bridgeman, hastening to the relief of his companion, was fortunately in time to catch the fainting figure in his arms. extricating her quickly from the saddle, he set her gently on the ground, and as he did so the fair head fell forward on his shoulder, and she lost consciousness. by this time lewis had succeeded in quieting the excited animal, and had fastened him to a tree by the wayside, and as he turned to the assistance of bridgeman, the companions of the unconscious girl rode up. hastily dismounting, they rushed to her aid, and in a few minutes, under their ministrations, the dark eyes were opened, and the girl gazed wonderingly around. after being assisted to her feet, she gratefully expressed her thankfulness to the men who had probably saved her life, in which she was warmly joined by the remainder of the party. sam bridgeman received these grateful expressions with an air of modest confusion, which was indeed laughable, and then said: "it ain't no use thanking me, miss, it was my lord here, that stopped the animal." at the words "my lord," a look of curiosity came over the faces of the new-comers, and lewis stepped gracefully forward and introduced himself. "i am glad, ladies and gentlemen, to have been of service to this young lady, and permit me to introduce myself as henry tracy, of oxford, england, now traveling in america." the three gentlemen who were of the riding party grasped the hand of their new-made english acquaintance, and in a few words introduced him to the ladies who accompanied them, all of whom were seemingly delighted to make the acquaintance of a gentleman who had been addressed by his servant as "my lord." this adventure proved to be a most fortunate one for my two operatives. the gentlemen, upon introducing themselves, were discovered to be connected with the rebel army, and to be recruiting officers sent by governor letcher to organize such rebel volunteers as were to be gathered in western virginia. by them lewis was cordially invited to join their company to charleston, which he as cordially accepted. suggesting that as the young lady, who had scarcely recovered from the accident, might not feel able to ride her horse into town, he politely offered her a seat in his carriage, which offer was gratefully accepted, and attaching the runaway horse to the rear of the vehicle, the party proceeded on their way to charleston, at which point they arrived without further event or accident. the young lady whom lewis had so providentially rescued was the only daughter of judge beveridge, one of the wealthiest and most influential men in the state, and upon conducting her to her home, the detective was received with the warmest emotions by the overjoyed father. lewis was pressed to make the house of the judge his home during his stay, but gratefully declining the invitation, he took up his quarters at the hotel, where he could more readily extend his acquaintance, and where his movements would be more free. the young officers whom he had met upon the road had their quarters at the hotel at which lewis had stopped, and under their friendly guidance no one thought of questioning his truthfulness, or impeaching his professions. by this means he was enabled to acquire a wonderful amount of information, both of value and importance to the cause of the north, all of which was duly reported to me at headquarters, and by me communicated directly to general mcclellan. chapter xiv. _the rebels attempt to occupy west virginia.--general mcclellan ordered to drive them out.--early battle.--the federals victorious.--west virginia freed from rebel soldiers._ recognizing the importance of holding west virginia, and of preventing the union forces from penetrating through the mountains in the direction of staunton, the rebel authorities had sent two new commanders into that region. ex-governor wise was dispatched to the kanawha valley, and general garnett, formerly a major in the federal army, was sent to beverly to attempt to gather up and reorganize the remnants of colonel porterfield's scattered command, and to adopt immediate measures to reinforce them. general wise having been assigned to the kanawha valley, was expected to arrive at charleston on the day following the appearance of my operatives, and the city was in a state of subdued excitement in anticipation of his coming. in the evening, lewis, in company with the officers whom he had met in the morning, proceeded to the residence of judge beveridge, where he was cordially received by that gentleman and his charming daughter, who had now thoroughly recovered from the effects of her dangerous ride. with rare grace she greeted my operative, and her expressions of thankfulness were couched in such delicate language, that the pretended englishman felt a strange fluttering in his breast, which was as novel to him as it was delicious. he passed a very delightful evening, and by his knowledge of english affairs, and his unqualified approval of the cause of the south, added to the fact that he was believed to be a gentleman of rank and fortune, he succeeded in materially increasing the high opinion which had previously been entertained regarding him. the next morning general wise arrived, and his appearance was hailed with delight by the disunion element of the city, while those whose sympathies were with the north looked with apprehension and disfavor upon the demonstrations that were being made in his honor. at the first opportune moment, price lewis, with the assistance of his new-found friends, the rebel officers, succeeded in obtaining an introduction to the ancient-looking individual whose career had been marked by such exciting events, and who was so prominent a figure in the tragedy that was now being enacted. he was a small, intelligent-looking man, whose age appeared to be nearly seventy years, and whose emaciated appearance gave every token that he had not long to live. his eyes shone with the brilliancy of youth, and the fires of ambition seemed to be burning brightly in his breast. perhaps no other man in the south had contributed in so great a degree to hasten the folly of secession, and certainly none rejoiced more heartily at its final realization. by his eloquence, and the magnetic power of his presence, he had led the ignorant classes of the state to firm belief in the justice of his cause, and by his teachings he had imbued them with a firm conviction that they were acting for their own best interests, and for the furtherance of the southern supremacy and success. stern and determined, he allowed nothing to stand between him and the accomplishment of his purposes. but a few months before, he had ordered the execution of john brown, who, with a mere handful of men, had attempted to strike a blow in behalf of the slave. this ardent abolitionist attacked and captured harper's ferry, a government arsenal, by overpowering the men who were stationed at that place, but the authorities had been called upon, and then, yielding to superior numbers, he was compelled to surrender. in this encounter the majority of his men were slain, and john brown, with six of his associates, was taken prisoner. this occurred on the th day of october, , and on the d day of december, after a hurried trial, the prisoners were ordered by governor wise to be publicly hanged. the sentence was duly carried into effect, and the action of john brown was used by the secession advocates to inflame the minds of the southern people against the north. now that secession had become an established fact, it was a matter of question whether the leaders of the southern cause would not, in the end, strike a far more forcible blow in favor of the emancipation of the slave, than did the impetuous old man who gave up his life at the behest of the southern leaders. the general had been previously informed of the presence of lewis in the hotel, and of his adventure on the day previous, consequently, when he was presented to the new commander, he was received with warm cordiality. the general inquired particularly into his history, and his present movements, all of which were replied to by lewis in a dignified and satisfactory manner. under the influence of lewis' good-nature the general became social and familiar, and invited him to dine with him in his apartments. leaving no opportunity that offered, the detective took advantage of every available suggestion, and the result was he became fully posted upon everything that was of importance, and was enabled to render such an account of his labors as was satisfactory in the extreme. sam bridgeman, too, had not been idle, but mingling freely with the soldiers, he had succeeded in learning much of the conditions of the country that was of immense advantage in the after events of the campaign in western virginia. they remained in charleston about eight days, and then, taking leave of the many friends they had made, they made their way safely back to cincinnati and reported. the other two men whom i had dispatched upon the same mission traveled by rail across the state of ohio and reached the west virginia line at point pleasant. here they began their investigations, and passing unquestioned they roamed through the country, passing eastward as far as lynchburg. thence, they made a detour to the south, and journeyed as far as chattanooga and nashville, in tennessee, and thence to louisville, ky. throughout their entire pilgrimage they were ever on the alert to acquire knowledge, and the immense amount of information which they gathered would only prove tedious to both myself and the reader. it is enough to say that they performed their duty in a manner creditable to themselves and valuable to the cause they represented, and i will simply summarize the situation. general garnett had posted himself in the pass at laurel hill, with an additional force at beverly, while another detachment, under col. pegram, had established himself in the pass at rich mountain. here he had intended to fortify himself and to await a favorable opportunity for breaking the railroad. he found affairs upon his arrival in a miserable condition; the troops were disorganized and without discipline, arms or ammunition, and general lee immediately sent him re-enforcements. this was the condition of affairs, when, early in july, general mcclellan resolved to take the offensive and drive the rebels from west virginia. in this campaign he received material aid and assistance from that brave officer general rosecrans, who by superhuman exertions penetrated the pathless forest cutting and climbing his way to the very crest of rich mountain. this movement, difficult as it was, to the south of the rebels, was a complete surprise to the enemy, who was expecting their arrival from the north. they made a gallant resistance, however, but the union forces had such an advantage that the contest was quickly decided. the rebel forces were driven from their breast-works and were compelled to take refuge in thickets or the mountains. their confusion was deplorable, and their defeat unmistakable. this victory placed the enemy in a very precarious position. mcclellan was in his front and rosecrans in secure possession of the road behind him, and pegram, realizing the danger that threatened him, returned to his camp and, hastily spiking his guns, he abandoned all his stores and equipments, and endeavored to escape by marching northward along the mountain, intending, if possible, to join garnett at laurel hill. for the time being, he was successful in eluding the federal commanders, and after a most laborious march of eighteen hours, found himself within three miles of leedsville. here he was doomed to disappointment, for he learned that garnett had also retreated, and that a strong union column was in close pursuit. thus he was again caught between two union armies, and despairing of effecting his escape, he sent a proposal to general mcclellan, offering a total surrender of his command. the union general accepted the proposition, and on the following day the half-famished rebel fugitives laid down their arms and became prisoners of war, only too glad to receive once more comfortable quarters and hunger-appeasing rations. the fugitives who had escaped from the battle of rich mountain carried the news of that disaster to beverly, and to general garnett, at laurel hill, and an immediate retreat was ordered. but he was closely pressed by the advancing union armies, and when general garnett reached leedsville, he heard that general mcclellan was at beverly, thus cutting off effectually his further passage southward. he now resolved upon the desperate attempt of turning to the north and reaching st. george and west union by a rough and difficult mountain road, during which his troops naturally became very much scattered and disorganized. although he was nearly fifteen hours in advance of his pursuers, they gained rapidly upon him, and notwithstanding every effort was made by the rebels to impede his progress by felling trees in the narrow mountain defiles, the union advance overtook the rebel wagon-train at carrick's ford, one of the crossings of cheat river, about twenty-six miles north-west of laurel hill. here garnett resolved to risk an encounter, and facing about his troops, he took a position on a favorable and precipitous elevation on the river bank, and planting his guns so as to command the ford and the approaching road, he prepared to defend his retreat. a brisk engagement at once ensued, and after a sharp contest the rebel lines broke and fled, abandoning one of their guns. retreat and pursuit were once more commenced, and at the next ford, a quarter of a mile further on, during a desultory skirmish fire between small parties of sharpshooters, general garnett was killed. here the federal pursuit was discontinued, and the rebels left in the hands of the victors their entire baggage train, one gun, two stands of colors and fifty prisoners. estimated according to mere numbers, these battles of rich mountain and carrick's ford appear somewhat insignificant in contrast with the great battles of the rebellion, which occurred during the succeeding three years. hundreds of engagements of greater magnitude, and attended with much more serious loss of life, followed these encounters, and decided the mighty problem of northern success, but this early skirmish with the rebels on rich mountain, and this rout of garnett's rear-guard at carrick's ford, were speedily followed by great political and military results, which exercised a powerful influence upon the after-conduct of the war. they closed a campaign, dispersed a rebel army, which had for a long time been harassing a state whose sympathies were with the union, and they permanently pushed back the military frontier to the borders of rebellious territory. now, is it too much to say that the brilliant success which attended this first aggressive movement of general mcclellan had a marked effect upon the public mind? that they gave a general impression of his military skill is not to be doubted, and he was from that time the hero of the hour. certain it is that a train of circumstances started from these achievements which eventually led to his being called to washington after the reverses at manassas and bull run, and made him, on the first day of november following, the general-in-chief of all the armies of the united states. it is not necessary for me to follow the subsequent operations in west virginia, as my duties were connected with general mcclellan and his campaigns in that district ended with the death of general garnett and the dispersion of his army. about a week afterwards he was called to a new field of duty at washington city, and it is not my purpose to touch upon events in which i took no part. it is enough to say that, with somewhat fluctuating changes, the rebels were gradually forced back from the great kanawha valley, and the eventual result left west virginia in possession of the federal troops, her own inherent loyalty having contributed largely in producing this condition. the union sentiment of the people was everywhere made manifest, and the new state government was consolidated and heartily sustained, ending in her ultimate admission as a separate member of the federal union in june, . chapter xv. _general mcclellan is called to washington and placed in command of the armies, after the battle of bull run.--the secret service department.--its duties and responsibilities._ as i am not attempting to write a history of the civil war, but merely relating, as best i can, the leading incidents connected with my labors in the secret service, i shall not dwell upon the details of the military movements of the war, except as they are necessarily connected with my own movements. it is necessary, however, to make cursory mention of that remarkable chain of circumstances which followed general mcclellan's campaign in west virginia, resulting in entire and unexpected change of circumstances to him, and a consequent enlargement of my own field of operations. therefore, without pausing to describe the various movements and enterprises in west virginia during the remainder of the year , or detailing the campaign of the three months' volunteers under general patterson, and their bloodless victory at harper's ferry, i will pass on to other scenes and events which lead directly to the turning-point in my story. patriotism in the north was excited to such a pitch that the people were impatient of delay, and eager to strike a decisive blow--a blow that would at once annihilate treason and wipe out the insult to a nation's flag, and maintain a nation's honor. the resounding echoes of the rebel guns that had done their work of destruction on sumter's walls, were still vibrating in the air. the confederate seat of government had been transferred from montgomery to richmond, immediately after virginia's indorsement of the secession ordinance, and this enthronement of rebellion so close to the very stronghold of freedom, caused patriotic resentment to blaze up with fresh intensity. in the month of june a determined movement against manassas was resolved upon at washington. as a preliminary step to the advancement upon the rebel capital, general scott gave patterson orders to offer johnston battle, or detain him in the shenandoah valley by other demonstrations, in order that his army might not unite with beauregard's and defeat the movement. but patterson failed to perform the task assigned to him, and his failure lost to the union cause the first great battle of the war. general beauregard was in possession of manassas with six thousand men, and this force was being very materially increased by the arrival of reinforcements from time to time; but notwithstanding this fact, it was believed that every chance of success would be provided for by the strength of the union army at the capital, if only johnston could be held in check for a few days. delay in starting this expedition against the enemy's works was unavoidable, and it was not until the afternoon of the th of july that the march of mcdowell's army commenced. even then the progress was painfully slow, owing to inexperience and lack of discipline on the part of the troops. manassas junction was defended by about two thousand rebels, with fourteen or fifteen heavy guns, while at bull run, some three miles east of manassas, was stationed beauregard's main army, over twenty thousand strong, posted at the various fords of the stream, in a line fully eight miles long. mcdowell, as a strategic movement to conceal his real purpose, directed his march upon centreville, at which place tyler's division arrived on the morning of july th, to find that it had been evacuated by the rebels, who were all behind bull run. from centreville, which is situated on a hill, tyler and his men had a view of the whole valley spread out before them, with manassas on the high plateau beyond. it has been hinted that tyler was inspired with over confidence by the utter absence of opposition to his advance, and was thus betrayed into the indiscretion of a further advance and an experimental assault. this provoked a skirmish, which speedly culminated in the battle of blackburn's ford, the result of which was much loss and demoralization. two more days elapsed before the great fight occurred. those two days were occupied by the engineers in efforts to find an unfortified ford over bull run, which was accomplished in time to permit mcdowell to call his officers together on saturday night, and announce to them his plan of battle for the following day. this brought the main contest on sunday, july st, and before daylight on the morning of that eventful day, both armies were up and astir, each intending to take the initiative. there was much unnecessary confusion and delay, mingled with undue excitement and impetuosity, showing that everything was raw and awkward on both sides. perhaps no troops ever engaged in warfare with as little knowledge of the privations, hardships and dangers of soldier-life, as did the union and confederate armies on this bloody field. the day passed; the shades of evening fell, and the battle of bull run had been fought and lost! victory had perched itself on the rebel banners, and the union army was in full retreat towards washington. the engagement had been well contested, and fought with equal courage and persistence by both sides, and the result was quite as unexpected to the confederates as to the federals. but johnston had not been kept out of the fray, as it was calculated he would be. his army had been permitted to arrive on the battle-field in the nick of time to take a decisive part in the famous conflict, and to turn the fortunes of the day at a moment when the signs of victory were all in favor of the federal troops. totally unconscious of the fact that they had been fighting johnston all day, the union soldiers had not once lost confidence in themselves, and fully believed that they must win; but when a fresh assault from a new quarter convinced them that johnston's forces had arrived, the realization and acknowledgment of coming defeat pervaded the whole army, and the quick instinct of retreat was aroused. they believed that success had now become hopeless, and nothing could change this belief, or check or control the impulse of flight, once started. the day was lost; the evidence of a great disaster became suddenly overwhelming to the non-combatants in the rear; the retreating brigades, and the nearer approach of cannonade and musketry soon confirmed the worst fears of a terrible defeat and a hot pursuit; and then began that insane scramble and stampede for safety. the sights and scenes encountered on the way to fairfax court-house will never be effaced from the memory of those who witnessed it. the story of that memorable retreat has been told over and over again; of the mad flight of civilians, in carriages and on horseback, lashing their steeds to the top of their speed; of soldiers of all regiments mingled confusedly together, some in complete uniform, others stripped of everything but trousers, shirts and shoes, and all foot-sore, haggard and half-starved; of arms, clothing and other valuables abandoned, that the progress of the runaways might not be impeded by such incumbrances; of vehicles, and even ambulances, bearing wounded men, left standing in the road, while the frightened teamsters rode away like the wind, on horses unhitched or cut out of their harness; of army wagons emptied of their loads and filled with stragglers, thundering along the crowded highway; of the dash and clatter of artillery carriages; of confusion, panic, demoralization and headlong hurry everywhere along the route. by midnight, mounted officers and civilians began to arrive in washington; but not until the next day, when the rain was pouring down in torrents--that dreadful, drenching rain that continued for thirty-six hours, with but slight intermission--did the poor, hungry, fagged-out soldiers commence straggling in. that they were promptly and properly fed by the people, rich and poor, who threw open their doors and gave what they could to alleviate the suffering of these brave but unfortunate men, speaks volumes for the unselfish generosity of the loyal families of the capital during that period. it was while this discouraging state of affairs existed that general mcclellan was called to washington, to assume control of the lately defeated troops, general rosecrans having succeeded him in the command of the army of the west. considering his recent success in west virginia, and the military skill and judgment there displayed by him, it is but natural that mcclellan should have been selected to re-create the army, which was destined to defend the capital for the next three years. his arrival in washington, on the th of july, was hailed with genuine delight by officers and citizens, for at that date he held the esteem and confidence and admiration of all loyal people. it was an immense responsibility which devolved upon him, but he accepted it cheerfully, and took up his task with that energy, tact and perseverance which precluded all possibility of failure. when first called to the command, he found a mere collection of regiments, undisciplined, undrilled and dispirited, cowering on the banks of the potomac, and with only such material to work upon, he soon organized, equipped, and trained with rare skill, that grand body of troops, which he afterwards led in the campaign of the peninsula. the war was but just commenced, at a time when most people thought it would be over. the "ninety days" theory was completely exploded. those who had flattered themselves that the conflict would be "sharp and short"--that a single victorious and glorious campaign would crush the rebellion--were now undeceived. my own hopes had controlled my judgment on this subject, and made me visionary. i had hoped for myself to be able speedily to return to congenial pursuits and my domestic circle, and that a speedy collapse of their frenzy would save the southern people from the inevitable ruin which must result from a protracted war. i had hoped for my country, that the spectacle she now presented to the world--exciting the derision of her enemies, and the melancholy pity of her friends--would soon be changed by the "returning good sense of the people," as it was so easily and egotistically phrased by many individuals at that time. above all, i had hoped for the oppressed and shackled race of the south, that the downfall of slavery would be early accomplished, and their freedom permanently established. being myself an old line abolitionist, and by no means the least active or energetic of those who had controlled and operated the famous "underground railroad," i had the anti-slavery cause very much at heart, and would never have been satisfied until that gigantic curse was effectually removed. indeed, during the whole time that i labored for the cause of the union, the dearest object i had in view was the abolition of the most cruel system of oppression that ever cursed any people--an oppression long ago so justly characterized by john wesley as "the sum of all villainy"--in comparison with which egyptian bondage appeared simply burdensome. all these hopes were dissipated by the results of the late campaign. the war had developed into a reality to estimate. "the federal union--it must and shall be preserved!" was the sentiment that now prevailed, and all realized that the time for doubt and hesitation had gone by. there was no mistaking the duty of every loyal heart--the republic must be saved at whatever cost. as i have previously stated, my connection with general mcclellan was not interrupted by this change in his position. by my own preference, as well as at his request, i accompanied him to washington, and cast my lot with those who were rallying there to protect and defend the government of the united states. among the first things the general did, after being assigned to the command of the troops around that city, was to organize a secret service force, under my management and control. i was to have such strength of force as i might require; my headquarters were for the time located in washington. it was arranged that whenever the army moved i was to go forward with the general, so that i might always be in close communication with him. my corps was to be continually occupied in procuring, from all possible sources, information regarding the strength, positions and movements of the enemy. all spies, "contrabands," deserters, refugees and prisoners of war, coming into our lines from the front, were to be carefully examined by me, and their statements taken in writing. this was the first real organization of the secret service. how much benefit was rendered to the country by this branch of the army will probably never be known--the destruction of nearly all my papers in the great fire of chicago preventing their full publication--but that our operations were of immense practical value to the union commander is a fact attested to by every one connected with the leading movements of our forces. it was about this time that the city of washington was placed under martial law--a measure deemed necessary to correct the serious evils which existed, and to restore order in the city. colonel andrew porter, of the sixteenth united states infantry, was appointed provost-marshal, and under his command was placed all the available infantry, a battery, and a squadron of cavalry. in addition to these, the assistance of a detective police force was deemed indispensable, and in answering this requirement i found work enough to keep myself and entire corps busy during our stay in washington. a better understanding of my position and the nature of my duties at this time may be gained from the following extracts from a letter which i addressed to general mcclellan when the organization of this department was yet in its incipiency. "general: "in accordance with your expressed desire, i beg leave to submit to you my views with regard to the duties of my detective police force, should the services of the same be required by the government. "in order to promote the efficiency of such a force, it is highly necessary that its existence should be known to as few persons as possible. it is an admitted and self-evident fact that the movements of the various departments of the government, civil and military, are closely watched, and it is beyond a doubt that from some source the rebels have received early, and to them, valuable notice of the intended actions of the government. i am also led to believe that the rebels have spies who are in the employment of this government, or who possess facilities for acquiring information from the civil and military authorities, or bureaus, and that this information is imparted to others, and transmitted, within a very short time, to the rebel government. many of the parties thus leagued with the enemy are said to be persons of wealth and position. "in operating with my detective force, i shall endeavor to test all suspected persons in various ways. i shall seek access to their houses, clubs, and places of resort, managing that among the members of my force shall be ostensible representatives of every grade of society, from the highest to the most menial. some shall have the _entree_ to the gilded salon of the suspected aristocratic traitors, and be their honored guests, while others will act in the capacity of valets, or domestics of various kinds, and try the efficacy of such relations with the household to gain evidence. other suspected ones will be tracked by the 'shadow' detective, who will follow their every foot-step, and note their every action. "i also propose to employ a division of my force for the discovery of any secret traitorous organization which may be in existence; and if any such society is discovered, i will have my operatives become members of the same, with a view to ascertaining the means employed in transmitting messages through the lines, and also for the purpose of learning, if possible, the plans of the rebels. all strangers arriving in the city, whose associations or acts may lay them open to suspicion, will be subjected to a strict surveillance. * * * * * "another and more dangerous feature of the service contemplated to be rendered to the government by my detectives, is that of entering the rebel lines, and endeavoring to obtain accurate information of the nature of their defences, the number of troops under their command at various points, etc. "in order to give efficiency to this movement, operations should be commenced in baltimore as well as at washington. * * * * * "considering the amount of labor to be done and the necessity of immediate action on my part, in case these plans are to be carried out, i purpose concentrating my entire detective force of _both sexes_ into this work. * * * * * "the amount of force necessary to carry out such an undertaking as i have indicated, will necessarily be very large, and the assumption of disguises and characters by my operatives, will be a very important item in itself," etc., etc., etc. my views were carried out just as they were set forth in this letter, and i was soon hard at work in my efforts to "regulate" the district of columbia. it was too true that a great majority of the local police were disloyal, and could not be depended upon to faithfully discharge their duties to the government that employed them; therefore, in addition to my other work, i exerted myself to the utmost in aiding the municipal authorities to reorganize and discipline the police of the district. many personal incidents worthy of note occurred during this period, but there was one which i recall at this moment with a laugh at my own expense--an incident in which i was reluctantly compelled to occupy the wrong side of a guard-house over night, and instead of capturing a prisoner became a prisoner myself. [illustration: guard-house prisoners.] chapter xvi. _a female traitor.--suspicious correspondence.--a close watch under difficulties.--i am arrested.--exposure of the treason of a trusted officer.--a disgraced captain._ during the earlier stages of the rebellion, a number of southern sympathizers were domiciled in the city of washington, and among the number were many ladies of refinement and wealth, from the south, who had been leaders of fashion and of society in the brilliant days of previous administrations. many of these ladies were extremely fascinating in their manners, and being gifted with great personal beauty and with rare conversational qualities, they had gathered around them a brilliant circle of acquaintances, to whom they dispensed regal hospitalities and most delicate courtesies. when the war broke out, these ladies thoroughly identified themselves with the cause of the south, and upon all occasions were unreserved in the expression of opinions favorable to the rebels, and of fervent hopefulness for the eventual success of the disunionists. but little attention was paid to these _grand dames_ of the old regime, as it was not deemed possible that any danger could result from the utterances of non-combatant females, nor was it considered chivalrous that resolute measures should be adopted toward those of the weaker sex. that this policy was a mistaken one was soon fully proved, and when it was discovered that these fine ladies were secretly giving information to the enemy, it was deemed of great importance that such means should be adopted as would prevent their treasonable actions from being made valuable to the opponents of the government, and who were seeking its overthrow. from information received from reliable sources, it was shown that the rebel authorities were as fully conversant with the plans of the union commanders as they were themselves. that they knew of the position of every regiment and brigade, and the contemplated movements of the commanders, and the time of proposed action, far in advance of any publicity being given to them, and when the utmost secrecy was the only true passport to victory. indeed, it was openly boasted that the secret information given to the rebel generals had been mainly the cause of the defeat of our armies at bull run and manassas. upon these facts being fully proven, the government resolved to effectually prevent a continuance of these practices, and that if they were persisted in, the guilty parties should either be confined or exiled to the more congenial climate of dixie. my department was in its infancy when the event occurred which i am about to relate. i had secured a house in washington, and had gathered around me a number of resolute, trustworthy men and discreet women, who were devoted to the cause of their country, but were scarcely in such a condition as to move properly or with any systematized regularity. i had not been many days in the city when one afternoon i was called upon by the hon. thomas a. scott, of pennsylvania, who was then acting as the assistant-secretary of war, who desired my services in watching a lady whose movements had excited suspicion, and who, it was believed, was engaged in corresponding with the rebel authorities, and furnishing them with much valuable information. this lady was mrs. rose greenhow, a southern woman of pronounced rebel proclivities, and who had been unsparing in her denunciation of the "abolition north," and who had openly declared that "instead of loving and worshiping the old flag of the stars and stripes," she saw "in it only the symbol of murder, plunder, oppression and shame." mrs. greenhow had occupied a prominent position in the social circles of the capital, and was personally acquainted with all of the leading men of the country, many of whom had partaken of her hospitality and had enjoyed a social intercourse that was both pleasurable and fascinating. she had now become an avowed hater of the union, and it was feared, from her previous association with officers in the army, that she was using her talents in procuring information from them which would be immediately communicated to the rebel government at richmond. the residence of mrs. greenhow was situated at the corner of thirteenth and i streets--quite a fashionable quarter of the city, and within a short distance of the white house. the building, while not at all imposing in appearance, was large, roomy, and was furnished with every consideration for wealth and tasteful refinement. it was a two-story and basement brick building, the parlors of which were elevated several feet above the ground, and entrance was obtained by ascending a flight of steps in the center of the edifice. this lady was a widow, her husband having died some years before, and being possessed of considerable means, and mingling with the highest circles of washington society, her home was the resort of most of the prominent people of the city. the instructions of the secretary of war were, that a strict watch should be kept upon this house, and that every person entering or leaving the same should come under the close surveillance of my men, who should endeavor to ascertain who they were, and if they attempted in any manner to communicate with any suspicious persons. i was to report to him daily, and to continue my espionage until i received definite and official orders for its discontinuance. my further instructions were, that in case any of the visitors of mrs. greenhow should attempt to pass the lines of our troops, they should be arrested at once, and a rigorous search of their persons instituted, in order that nothing should be allowed to pass through without a thorough examination by the secretary of war or mr. scott. after the departure of the secretary i took with me two of my men, and proceeded to the vicinity of the residence of mrs. greenhow. i was then quite a stranger in washington, and localities were not as familiar to me as they afterward became, and i therefore preferred to reconnoiter by daylight, to depending upon a survey after nightfall. the entire day had been dark, gloomy and threatening; clouds had been gathering in the heavens, and everything indicated the imminence of a severe storm. as i left my headquarters, a slight shower of rain was falling, which i knew was but the precursor of a storm more violent. on arriving at the designated locality i found everything to be as they had already been described to me. the inside shutters to the windows were closed, and no sign was apparent that the house was occupied, and after carefully noting the situation and the exposed condition of the premises, i left the two men within a convenient distance of the place, and returned for the additional aid which i thought might be needed. selecting three of my most discreet men, i again repaired to the scene of operations. we had not proceeded far, when the storm burst upon us in all its fury. the wind blew strong and chill, and the rain fell in deluging torrents. umbrellas were a useless commodity, and, unprotected, we were compelled to breast the elements, which now were warring with terrible violence. arriving at mrs. greenhow's, under cover of the darkness i posted my men in such positions as i thought would be most advantageous for our purpose, and then calling in the two whom i had left there during the afternoon, i approached to within a short distance of the house. the darkness and storm, while decidedly uncomfortable, were of some benefit to us, as but few people were abroad, and these paid no attention to passing events, seeming to be only too anxious to reach their destination and to escape the pitiless rain. the blinds at the windows were still closed, but a light was observed in two rooms upon the parlor floor, and i knew that the house was occupied. of course i could see nothing within, as my view was entirely obstructed by the closed blinds, and, at length, becoming impatient at this unprofitable and unsatisfactory waiting, i determined to obtain a glimpse, at least, of the interior, and to ascertain, if possible, some knowledge of its occupants. the parlor windows, through which the lights were gleaming, were too high from the ground to permit me to see within, and summoning the two men who were awaiting instructions i made use of their strong, broad shoulders in a manner quite novel to me, and quite ludicrous, no doubt, to a passer-by who did not understand the situation. ranging the two men side by side under the broad windows in front of the house, i removed my boots and was soon standing upon their shoulders and elevated sufficiently high to enable me to accomplish the object i had in view. i was now on a level with the windows, and noiselessly raising the sash and turning the slats of the blinds i obtained a full view of the interior of the room. the furniture was rich and luxurious, valuable pictures hung upon the walls, and several pieces of statuary and various articles of artistic ornamentation were arranged about the apartment, but to my disappointment, it was unoccupied. i was about to give expression to my chagrin at this discovery, when a warning "sh!" from one of my sturdy supporters induced me to be silent. some one was approaching the house, and hastily clambering down from my perch, we hid ourselves under the stoop which led up to the front door. scarcely had we ensconced ourselves in this convenient shelter when we heard the footsteps of the new-comer, and to our satisfaction, he stopped in front of the house, and ascending the steps rang the bell and in a short time was admitted. by this time we were drenched to the skin--the rain had fallen in copious showers and during all the time we had been exposed to its dampening influences--but paying but little heed to this, we again took our position in front of the window, and i was soon remounted upon the shoulders of my operatives, prepared to take notes of what transpired. as the visitor entered the parlor and seated himself awaiting the appearance of the lady of the house, i immediately recognized him as an officer of the regular army, whom i had met that day for the first time. he was a captain of infantry and was in command of one of the stations of the provost-marshal, and not desiring to divulge the real name of the gentleman, who has since died, i will call him captain ellison. he was a tall, handsome man of a commanding figure and about forty years of age. he had removed his cloak, and as he sat there in his blue uniform, and in the full glare of the gaslight, he looked a veritable ideal soldier. as i watched him closely, however, i noticed that there was a troubled, restless look upon his face; he appeared ill at ease and shifted nervously upon his chair, as though impatient for the entrance of his hostess. in a few moments mrs. greenhow entered and cordially greeted her visitor, who acknowledged her salutations with a courtly bow, while his face lighted up with pleasure as he gazed upon her. just at this moment i again received a warning from my supporters, and hastily jumping to the ground, we hid ourselves until the pedestrians had passed out of sight and hearing. when i resumed my station the captain and mrs. greenhow were seated at a table in the rear part of the room, and their conversation was carried on in such low tones that, in consequence of the storm that was still raging, i could not catch but fragmentary sentences. at last, however, accustoming myself to the noise, i heard enough to convince me that this trusted officer was then and there engaged in betraying his country, and furnishing to his treasonably-inclined companion such information regarding the disposition of our troops as he possessed. presently, he took from an inner pocket of his coat a map which, as he held it up before the light, i imagined that i could identify as a plan of the fortifications in and around washington, and which also designated a contemplated plan of attack. my blood boiled with indignation as i witnessed this scene, and i longed to rush into the room and strangle the miscreant where he sat, but i dared not utter a word, and was compelled to stand by, with the rain pouring down upon me, and silently witness this traitorous proceeding. after watching their movements for some time, during which they would frequently refer to the map before them, as though pointing out particular points or positions, i was again compelled to hide myself under the shelter of the convenient stoop, and when i resumed my position the room was empty. the delectable couple had disappeared. i waited impatiently for more than an hour, taking occasional glimpses into the room and watching for their re-appearance. at the end of that time they re-entered the parlor arm in arm, and again took their seats. again came the warning voice, and again i hastily descended, and as the retreating figures disappeared in the distance, i could hear the front door open and the step of the traitor captain above me. with a whispered good-night, and something that sounded very much like a kiss, he descended the steps, and then, without paying any attention to the fact that i was without shoes, i started in pursuit of him, and through the blinding mist and pelting storms kept him in view as he rapidly walked away. it was then about half-past twelve o'clock, and the storm evinced no sign of a discontinuance. i was not sufficiently acquainted with the city at that time to tell in what direction he was going, but i determined to ascertain his destination before i left him. i was compelled to keep pretty close to him, owing to the darkness of the night, and several times i was afraid that he would hear the footsteps of the man who accompanied me--mine i was confident would not be detected as, in my drenched stockings, i crept along as stealthily as a cat. twice, i imagined that he turned around as though suspecting he was followed, but as he did not stop i reassured myself and plodded on. i could not, however, disabuse my mind of the fear that i had been seen, i could not relax my vigilance, and i resolved to take my chances of discovery. i knew who my man was, at all events, and now i must ascertain where he was going. as we reached the corner of pennsylvania avenue and fifteenth street i imagined that i saw a revolver glistening in his hand, but it was too dark for me to determine that fact with any degree of certainty. at this point he passed a guard on duty, and quickly passed into a building immediately in advance of me. this movement was so unexpected, that i had no time to turn back, and i was so close to him that it would have been very unwise to have done so, but i was more surprised when, as i reached the building into which the captain had disappeared, i was suddenly confronted by four armed soldiers, who rushed suddenly out upon me, with fixed bayonets pointed at my breast. "halt, or i fire!" called out the officer of the guard. [illustration: "_halt, or i fire!_" p. .] realizing that an attempt at resistance or escape would be both foolish and useless, i attempted to make an explanation. all to no purpose, however. i informed them that i had been out late and had lost my way, but they refused to listen, and ordered my companion and myself to march at once into the guard-house. i endeavored to make the best of my misfortune, and entering the building we seated ourselves and awaited developments. after waiting for about half an hour, i was informed that my presence was required by the captain; and the guard conducted me up-stairs to his room. as i entered, i found myself face to face with captain ellison, who was pacing excitedly up and down the floor; stopping immediately in front of me, he glared fiercely at me for some minutes without uttering a word. i was a sorry figure to look at, and as i surveyed my weather-soaked and mud-stained garments, and my bare feet, i could scarcely repress a laugh, although i was deeply angered at the sudden and unexpected turn affairs had taken. "what is your name?" imperatively inquired the captain, after he had fully recovered himself, and had taken his seat at a table which stood in the room. "e. j. allen," i replied. "what is your business?" "i have nothing further to say," i coolly replied, "and i decline to answer any further questions." "ah!" said the captain, "so you are not going to speak. very well, sir, we will see what time will bring forth." he endeavored to impress me with his importance and played restlessly with the handles of two revolvers that lay before him on the table, but i saw too plainly through his bravado, and i knew that the scoundrel was really alarmed. finding that he could not compel me to answer his questions, he turned to the sergeant and ordered: "take this man to the guard-house, but allow no one whatever to converse with him; we will attend further to his case in the morning." i made a profound bow to the discomfited officer as i departed, to which he replied with an oath, and then i was conducted down-stairs and placed among the other prisoners. i found myself in a mixed and incongruous assembly indeed. most of my fellow-prisoners were stupidly drunk, and lay about the floor like logs; others were laughing and singing, while some were indulging in wild threats against the men who arrested them. here i found my companion, who, representing himself as a southern man had already become acquainted with two secessionists, who were laughing and talking about what they would have to tell when they obtained their release. he soon ingratiated himself with these men, and before daylight had obtained from them a revelation of certain matters that subsequently proved of great value to us in our operations. as for myself, my feelings can better be imagined than described. inwardly chafing against the unfortunate and disagreeable position in which i found myself, i was deeply concerned regarding the situation of affairs at the residence of mrs. greenhow. i had given no definite orders to my men, and they would be doubtful as to what course to pursue until they heard from me, and here was i a prisoner in the hands of the man against whom i had grave charges to prefer, and whom i had detected in treasonable correspondence. added to this, my wet garments and the cold atmosphere of the room in which i was confined, affected me with a degree of chilliness that was distressing in the utmost. i shook like an aspen, and my teeth for a time chattered like castanets. it may be imagined that the hilarity of my fellow-prisoners had but little charm for me, until at length one of the guards very kindly brought me a blanket and an overcoat, which i wrapped about me, and soon began to feel more comfortable. despite the aggravating circumstances under which i suffered, i could not refrain from smiling at the ridiculous appearance i must have presented as i stood before the irate captain who had caused my arrest. my hat was battered down over my face, and my clothing was spattered with mud from head to foot, and were dripping with water as i stood there. one might more readily imagine that i had been fished out of the potomac than that i was the chief of the secret service of the government, in the performance of duty. by the captain's orders i was prevented from conversing with my fellow-prisoners, so i turned my attention to the guard. my chief desire was to apprise mr. scott of my captivity, as early as possible, in order that my release could be effected without unnecessary delay, and i therefore applied myself to the entertainment of my jailer. the soldier who had charge of me i soon found to be a jolly, kind-hearted fellow, and i amused him immensely by relating some ridiculous anecdotes which i had heard, and before the time came for him to be relieved i had entirely won his favor. seizing a favorable opportunity i asked him if he would deliver a note for me after his time for standing guard had expired, at the same time offering to repay him for his trouble. to this he readily assented, and by the dim light afforded us i managed to scribble a few hasty lines to the assistant secretary of war, informing him of my imprisonment, and requesting him to order my release as soon as possible, and in a manner which would not excite the suspicion of captain ellison. at about six o'clock the guards were changed, and my messenger departed upon his mission. he was fortunate enough to find the servants of mr. scott astir, and informing them that his message was of extreme public importance, he had it delivered to the secretary in his chamber at once. at seven o'clock the guard returned, and coming to the door, he conversed a few minutes with the soldier who had succeeded him, when i called out: "how is the weather outside?" "all right, sir!" replied the man, with a sly wink, and then i knew that my note had been safely delivered, and my liberation simply a question of time. at about half-past eight o'clock the sergeant of the guard came to the door with a paper in his hand, and called out: "e. j. allen and william ascot!" ascot was the name of my operative who had been arrested with me, and with whom i had not exchanged a word since i had been imprisoned. we responded to our names, and following the sergeant, were again taken to the room occupied by captain ellison. "the secretary of war has been informed of your arrest, and you will be conducted to him at once, and then we shall see whether you will remain silent any longer." the manner of the captain was imperious and commanding, and i laughed to myself as i thought of the possible result of our interview with the secretary. the captain led the way, and in the company of four soldiers, we left the place, arriving in a few minutes at the residence of mr. scott. he was awaiting our arrival, and as we entered the room he ordered the guard to release me, and directed me to accompany him to his room. i followed him immediately, and as the door closed behind us, he burst into a hearty laugh at my uncouth and unkempt appearance. i was a sorry spectacle indeed, and as i surveyed myself in the mirror, i joined in his merriment, for a more realistic picture of a "drowned rat" i never beheld. i at once detailed what had transpired on the preceding night, and as i related the interview which i had witnessed between captain ellison and mrs. greenhow, his brow became clouded, and starting to his feet, he paced the room rapidly and excitedly. "mrs. greenhow must be attended to. she is becoming a dangerous character. you will therefore maintain your watch upon her, and should she be detected in attempting to convey any information outside of the lines, she must be arrested at once. and now we will attend to captain ellison." tapping a bell which stood upon his table, he ordered: "request captain ellison to come here." as the captain made his appearance, he seemed to be very ill at ease, and gazed searchingly at mr. scott and myself, as though he suspected something was wrong. "captain," said mr. scott, addressing him, "will you give me the particulars of the arrest of this man?" pointing to me. the captain answered that he had gone to visit some friends, who resided in the outskirts of the city, in the evening, and on returning at a late hour, he had noticed that he was being followed, and supposing me to be a foot-pad or a burglar, had ordered my arrest. "did you see any one last evening who is inimical to the cause of the government?" the captain became flushed and nervous under this direct question. he darted a quick glance at me, and after hesitating for some moments he answered in a faltering voice: "no, sir; i have seen no person of that character." "are you quite sure of that?" sternly inquired mr. scott. "i am, sir." "in that case, captain, you will please consider yourself under arrest, and you will at once surrender your sword to captain mehaffy." the captain was completely unmanned as these words fell from the lips of the secretary, and sinking into a chair, he buried his face in his hands, seemingly overcome by his emotions. but little remains to be told. captain ellison was arrested, and a search among his effects discovered sufficient evidence to prove that he was engaged in furnishing information to the enemy, and he was confined for more than a year in fort mchenry. he was finally released but broken in spirit and in health, and fully realizing the disgrace he had brought upon himself, he died shortly afterward. after leaving the residence of mr. scott, i took a carriage and went directly to my headquarters, and dispatched new men to relieve those who had been on duty all night, and who had been so anxious for my safety that they had sent several times to make inquiries, and who were unable to account for my absence. they had, i was rejoiced to learn, taken care to recover my shoes, which i was afraid would be found by some one connected with the house, and thus lead to the suspicion that the premises were the object of espionage. we continued our watching of the premises, and during its continuance a number of prominent gentlemen were received by the fascinating widow, and among the number were several earnest and sincere senators and representatives, whose loyalty was above question, and who were, perhaps, in entire ignorance of the lady's true character. almost every evening one particular individual was observed to call at the house, and his visits invariably were of long duration. he was therefore made the object of especial attention by me, and in a short time i succeeded in learning his true character, and the nature of the business which he followed. ostensibly an attorney, i ascertained that he was undoubtedly engaged in the vocation of a southern spy, and that he had a number of men and women under him by whom the information was forwarded to the rebel authorities. this gentleman, therefore, found himself, in a very few days, a prisoner of war. about eight days after this, orders were given for the arrest of mrs. greenhow herself. she was confined in her own house, and all her papers were seized and handed over to the custody of the department of war. the intention of the government was to treat her as humanely and considerately as possible, but disdaining all offers of kindness or courtesy, the lady was discovered on several occasions attempting to send messages to her rebel friends, and finally her removal to the old capitol prison was ordered, and she was conveyed there, where she was imprisoned for several months. after this she was conveyed across the lines, and reached in safety the rebel capital, where she was greeted by the more congenial spirits of rebeldom. mrs. greenhow afterwards went to europe, in some trustworthy capacity for the confederacy, and while there was noted for her bitter animosity to the union, and her vituperation of northern men and measures, but retribution may be said to have followed her, and some time subsequent to this, having returned again to the south, she made her way to charleston, s. c., from thence she took passage upon a blockade-runner, upon some secret mission for the confederacy. her person was loaded down with gold, which was packed in a belt close to her body. after passing fort sumter, a severe storm arose, and the little vessel began to pitch and roll in the angry waters, which swept in huge waves over her deck. mrs. greenhow was, i was since informed, washed over-board, and the weight upon her person carried her down and she was lost. no trace of her was ever afterwards discovered. [illustration: a female spy.] chapter xvii. _timothy webster in baltimore.--an encounter with a fire-eater.--webster defends himself.--treason rampant in the monumental city._ the city of baltimore at this time was also under military rule. it was garrisoned by united states troops, commanded successively by butler, banks and dix, for the purpose of enforcing respect and obedience to the laws, and of presenting any violations of order within its limits, by the malignant and traitorous element of the people. marshal kane, the chief of police, as well as the active members of the police commissioners, were arrested and held in custody at fort mchenry, because of the alleged encouragement and protection which were given to those unlawful combinations of men who were secretly aiding in numerous ways the people at war with the government. general banks appointed a provost-marshal for the proper execution of the laws, in conjunction with the subordinate officers of the police department. this condition of things was of course a direct result of the great riot of the th of april, and the intention was to curb those mutinous spirits, whose passions otherwise would have led them into committing all sorts of crimes and outrages against the government. notwithstanding these measures, however, the disturbing element was not by any means passive and inert, although appearances may have warranted such a conclusion. secret bands of conspirators were still in existence, and were working assiduously for the advancement of the southern cause. by direction of general mcclellan, i sent several of my best operatives to baltimore, chief among whom was timothy webster, with whom the others were to co-operate whenever their assistance were required by him. the principal object in this was to enable webster to associate with the secessionists of that city, and by becoming familiar and popular with them, to pave his way for an early trip into the rebel lines. during his residence in baltimore he was directed to represent himself as a gentleman of means and leisure, and to enable him the better to carry out this idea, i provided him with a span of fine horses and a carriage, for his own pleasure. he made his home at miller's hotel, lived in good style, and in his own irresistible way he set about establishing himself in the good graces of a large number of people, of that class whose confidence it was desirable to obtain. this task was made comparatively easy by the fact that he already had numerous acquaintances in the city, who introduced him about with great enthusiasm, representing him to be--as they really believed he was--a gentleman whose whole heart and soul was in the cause of the south. thus, by easy stages, he soon reached the distinction of being the center and principal figure of an admiring crowd. before a week had elapsed he had become a quietly-recognized leader in the clique with which he associated, and soon regarded as a man of superior judgment and power in all matters relating to political and state affairs. during fair weather he would frequently drive out with one or more of his friends, and his handsome equipage became well known on the streets, and at the race-course. he was introduced into the houses of many warm sympathizers with the south, and by his agreeable and fascinating manners he became a favorite with the female members of the family. through all, he was apparently an earnest and consistent advocate of southern rights, never overdoing the matter by any exhibition of strained excitement or loud avowals, but always conversing on the subject with an air of calm conviction, using the strongest arguments he could invent in support of his pretended views. in compliance with the request of many of his southern friends, he and john scully, another of my operatives, went to a photograph gallery one day and had their pictures taken, holding a large confederate flag between them, while webster wore the rebel hat which the doughty dr. burton had presented to him in memphis. during all this time webster was gathering information from every quarter concerning the secret plots and movements of the disloyal citizens, and promptly conveying it to me, and for this purpose he made frequent trips to washington for verbal instructions, and to report in person the success of his operations. sometimes he would be accompanied by one or more of his intimate associates, and these occasions were not without profit, for when thus accompanied, although necessarily prevented from reaching my office, he was enabled to increase his acquaintance with the traitorous element of washington, and finally was enabled to unmask several guilty ones whose loyalty had never been impeached or suspected. once, on returning to baltimore, after a longer absence than usual, his friends greeted him warmly. "by jove, webster, we had begun to think you were in trouble," one of them exclaimed. "no danger of that," was the laughing response. "i have no intention of being trapped before i fulfill my mission. i have some valuable work to do for the southern confederacy before the yankees can get the upper hand of me." they were in a saloon--a favorite rendezvous of these men--and webster was in the midst of his crowd. he was telling them about some imaginary "points" which he had picked up in washington, and assuring them he would in some manner transmit the information he had received to the rebel commanders before he was a week older. while thus entertaining his hearers, his attention was attracted by a man who entered the saloon with a swaggering gait, his hands in his pockets, and his hat tipped over one side of his head. he knew this man as a ruffian and bully of the worst stripe, bill zigler, and one of the ringleaders of the mob that had attacked the union troops on the th of april; consequently, he entertained a wholesome contempt for the fellow, and avoided him as much as possible. he was much surprised when the new-comer stopped in the middle of the room, and exclaimed, gruffly: "hello, webster! you're _here_, are you? by g--d, i've been looking for you!" webster turned toward him a look of surprised inquiry. "did you speak to me, sir?" he asked, quietly. "yes, i spoke to you, sir!" mimicked bill zigler, in a bullying voice. "i say i've been lookin' for you, and when i've spoke my piece i reckon this town will be too hot to hold you many hours longer." "i don't understand you," protested webster. "ha! ha! ha!" laughed the ruffian, a glitter of triumph and hatred in his eyes. "you've been playin' it fine on the boys here for the last three weeks, but d--n you, i'll spoil your little game!" "what do you mean?" demanded webster, his anger beginning to rise. "you speak in riddles." "i'll tell you what i mean!" blustered the bully. "gentlemen," turning toward the crowd, and pointing his finger toward the detective; "that man is leagued with the yankees, and comes among you as a spy." there was a general start of astonishment, and webster himself was dumfounded. "oh, nonsense, zigler," spoke up one of the men, after a death-like silence of several moments. "you must be drunk to make such an assertion as that. there is not a better southern man in baltimore than mr. webster." "i am as sober as the soberest man here," declared zigler; "and i reckon i know what i am talking about. i saw that fellow in washington yesterday." "i can well believe that you saw me in washington yesterday," said webster, quietly, "for i certainly was there. i have just been telling these gentlemen what i saw and heard while there." "maybe you have, but i'll bet ten dollars you didn't tell 'em that you had a conversation with the _chief of the detective force_ while you were there!" webster, it must be admitted, was wholly unprepared for this, but he realized in an instant that the bully's insinuation must be denied and overcome. with an assumption of uncontrollable rage he cried out "you are a liar and a scoundrel!" [illustration: "_the man reeled half way across the room, and fell prostrate between two tables._" p. .] "i am, eh?" hissed zigler through his clenched teeth, and before any one could make a movement to restrain him he sprang furiously toward webster. quick as was this movement, however, webster was prepared for him. like a flash of lightning his fist flew straight out from the shoulder, striking the ruffian between the eyes, with a force that would have felled an ox. the man reeled half-way across the room, and fell prostrate between two tables. with a roar like that of a baffled beast, zigler gathered himself up and rushed at webster, flourishing above his head a murderous-looking knife. but, as if by magic, a revolver appeared in the detective's hand, the muzzle of which covered his adversary's heart. "stop!" cried webster, in a tone of stern command. "hold your distance, you miserable cur, or your blood will be upon your own head!" zigler involuntarily recoiled. the frowning muzzle of the pistol, the unmistakable meaning of those words, and the deadly purpose expressed in the cold, calm face before him, were too much even for his boasted bravery. he turned pale and drew back, muttering and growling. "coward!" exclaimed webster, "if i served you right i would shoot you down like a dog; and i am afraid i can't resist the temptation to do so anyway, if you don't immediately leave the room. go! and in future be careful who you accuse of being in league with the accursed yankees." by this time a number of the other men had recovered from their astonishment, and they immediately joined their threats to those of webster, commanding zigler to leave the saloon at once, if he desired to "save his bacon." zigler did not dare to disobey. sullenly putting up his knife, and muttering curses on the whole crowd, he slunk out, stopping at the door long enough to glance back at webster, with the exclamation: "i'll fix you yet, d--n you!" when he was gone, webster said: "i cannot conceive what that fellow has against me, that he should try to defame my character by such an accusation." several of the men broke into a derisive laugh. "i'd as soon suspect jeff davis of being a yankee spy," said one, with a boisterous guffaw. "lord, webster," spoke up another, "you needn't calculate that anything that fellow can say is going to injure you with the people here." "i reckon zigler is mad because you won't clique in with him and his gang," said a third. "nobody takes any stock in him. it would have been considered a good riddance if your pistol had gone off while it covered his heart. bah! he isn't worth a thought. come, boys, let's licker." and the affair ended in a witty cross-fire of jokes, frequent explosions of hearty laughter, and numerous bumpers of sparkling wine. so far from proving disastrous to webster or his mission, this little episode with bill zigler rather elevated him in the estimation of his companions. the neat knock-down with which he had met the bully's unprovoked assault; his air of virtuous indignation in resenting the imputation of disloyalty to the south, and the manner in which he had defeated and put to flight a man who was much feared among his fellows, only won for him new laurels, and caused him to be regarded as brave as he was loyal. his intimate acquaintances reposed such firm faith in him, that not one of them entertained for a moment the thought that there might possibly be a grain of justice in zigler's accusation. one morning, not long after this little episode, webster left his hotel to walk down town, when he noticed that there was some unusual excitement on the streets. on every corner on baltimore street, from the exchange office, large numbers of men were standing in groups, evidently absorbed in some particular topic of conversation. while wondering what all this meant, the detective was accosted by a man named sam sloan, one of the most faithful of his adherents. "webster, i was just going up to see you. have you heard the news?" "i have heard nothing, sam," was the reply. "is there a new sensation this morning?" "another of lincoln's outrages," said sloan, with an indignant oath. "major brown, ross winans, and several others were arrested last night, and taken to fort mchenry." "what for?" "for no other purpose, i suppose, than to break up the election, which is to take place next month." "but how can that interfere with the election?" "by making us all afraid to go to the polls, or speak our minds." the two walked down the street together, and dropped into a drug store, which was known as one of the resorts of the unterrified. there they found a number of men conversing somewhat excitedly. the proprietor, a mr. rogers, turned toward the new-comers and said: "good morning, mr. webster; we were just talking over last night's proceedings." "it beats anything i ever heard of," said webster, warmly. "but what can we do?" "nothing just now," returned rogers; "but i think there will soon be a time when we will have a chance to do something. in the meantime, gentlemen, we must make up our minds to say nothing. we have all been too free with our tongues. hereafter, we must keep mum, or we will all get into fort mchenry." "we must just lay low, and wait till jeff crosses the potomac," said one of the loungers. "if we only had arms," said webster, musingly. "arms!" echoed rogers; "why, sir, we have from five to six thousand stand of arms right here in baltimore." "that may be true," said webster, "but nobody seems to know where they are." "i am satisfied they will turn up at the right time," said rogers. "marshal kane, before he was arrested, put them in the hands of men who will take good care of them until they are wanted." "and let us hope they will be wanted inside of two weeks," put in sloan. "we can afford to be quiet now, boys, but when the southern army comes this way, we'll rise ten thousand strong, and help take washington." the opinion seemed to have fixed itself in the minds of nearly all the southern sympathizers in the city, that in a very brief space of time, three or four weeks at the utmost limit, baltimore would be occupied by rebel soldiers, and jeff davis would be there in person. "one thing is certain," said webster, firmly. "if this thing goes on much longer, there will be a general uprising one of these days, and the streets of baltimore will run with blood a thousand times worse than they did on the th of april." "you are right, there," said rogers; "but for heaven's sake don't let any one outside of your circle hear you use that expression, or you will be the next one in limbo." "if they want me, now is their time," replied the detective, with a smile, "for i have made up my mind to undertake a journey down into southern maryland and virginia, at an early day." "the devil you have! you will find that a difficult and dangerous undertaking." "nevertheless, i shall attempt it. i find that if i can make the trip successfully i may be of service to some of our people here, by carrying letters and messages to their friends and relatives, with whom they are unable to communicate in any other way." webster made this intention known to all of his associates, and gave them to understand that he desired to sell his horses and carriage before leaving. the sale was accomplished in a manner that seemed legitimate enough to all, though it was a mere pretense. one of my operatives, whom i sent to baltimore for that purpose, made a sham purchase of the team and turned it over to me in washington. chapter xviii. _webster makes a journey to the south.--a secret organization.--the "knights of liberty."--webster becomes a member.--a sudden intrusion of the military.--the conspiracy broken up._ in accordance with my instructions, webster commenced his tour through southern maryland, on thursday, september th. he was accompanied by john scully, who had been assisting him in his baltimore operations, and they followed a line of travel which i laid out for them. taking passage on the steamboat "mary washington," they baffled the officers who stopped them by showing a pass issued by the provost-marshal of baltimore, and were soon steaming down the chesapeake toward fair haven, which was their pretended destination. arriving at that point they went ashore, and proceeded to the village of friendship. from there they worked their way south-west to prince frederick, then across the big patuxent to bendict, from which place they proceeded to charlotte hall, and thence on foot to leonardtown, a distance of twenty miles. at the last-named place they found wm. h. scott, another of my operatives, awaiting them, and were accompanied by him during the remainder of the journey. a number of messages, written and verbal, which had been intrusted to webster by his baltimore associates, were delivered at various points on the route, thus enabling them to form the acquaintance of certain secessionists who were men of prominence and influence in their respective neighborhoods, and who in turn provided them with letters of introduction to others of like ilk further on. through this medium they secured attention and hospitality wherever they stopped, and had the advantage of valuable advice and assistance in the matter of pursuing their journey safely. they represented themselves to be rebel sympathizers on their way to the potomac, for the purpose of finding a safe place where goods could be shipped across the river into virginia. they were frequently cautioned to be very careful, as there were union soldiers stationed all along the river, and people whose hearts were with the south were not permitted to express their sentiments with impunity. they penetrated as far as a point called allen's fresh, and deciding that they had gained all the information that could be picked up in that part of the country, they returned to washington and reported to me. when webster re-appeared on the streets of baltimore, after completing this trip, he was more than ever lionized by his numerous friends who were in the secret of his southern journey, and its supposed object. by endangering his life in the southern cause, as it was believed he had done, he had made himself a hero in the eyes of the traitors who were attached to him. "are you still keeping mum?" he asked, as he stood in the center of a group at dickinson's billiard hall, adjoining the exchange. "those who have any regard for their personal safety are doing so," replied rogers; "and i think the majority of the boys have learned that lesson. baltimore is comparatively quiet now. only one man has been arrested since you left, and we have hopes that he will be released." "who is he?" "a man from washington. he was fool enough to think he could talk as he pleased in baltimore." "by the way," remarked some one present, "webster must join our----" "sh," cautioned dave dickinson, the proprietor of the billiard room. "have you no more sense than to reveal yourself _here_? remember that your lips are sealed by an oath on that subject." there was a moment's silence; webster looked from one to another, and noticed that an air of mystery had settled upon every countenance present. "what's this?" he demanded with a laugh. "is it a conspiracy to betray me into the hands of the enemy?" "not exactly," replied dickinson, whose laugh was echoed by the crowd. "sloan, you will give mr. webster his cue when a favorable opportunity occurs. we want him with us, by all means." webster's curiosity was satisfied an hour later, when he and sam sloan walked toward miller's hotel together. "the fact is," said sam, in a guarded tone, "since you went away we've formed a secret organization." "a secret organization?" "yes; and we have held several meetings." "is it a success?" "a perfect success. some of the best in town are among our members. we may be forced to keep silent, but, by heaven! they can't compel us to remain idle. we are well organized, and we mean undying opposition to a tyrannical government. i tell you, webster, _we will not down_!" "never!" responded webster, copying the boastful tone and bearing of his companion. "it does not lie in the power of these white-livered yankees to make slaves of southern men! i should like to become a member of your society, sloan." "they all want you," said sloan, eagerly. "they passed a resolution to that effect at the last meeting. they want the benefit of your counsel and influence." "what is your society called?" "the knights of liberty." "when will your next meeting be held?" "to-night." "so soon?" "and you are expected to attend. have you any objections?" "none whatever. but how will i get there?" "i am delegated to be your escort," replied sloan. "what is your hour of meeting?" "twelve o'clock." "ah, a midnight affair. all right, sam; you'll find me waiting for you at the hotel." here they separated. webster realized that quite an important period in his baltimore experience was opening up before him, and that all his detective skill would probably be called into play to foil a band of conspirators. how to thwart the schemes of these knights of liberty, whose purpose, as he understood, was to assist in the overthrow of the government of the united states, was now the question to be solved. he did not, however, attempt to form any plans at this time, but waited for such developments as he had no doubt would be made that night. he resolved to learn the nature of the plots that were in existence, before he commenced counterplotting. promptly at eleven o'clock sam sloan put in an appearance at the hotel, and he and webster proceeded toward the place of meeting. the night was dark and stormy, just the right sort of night, webster thought, for the concocting of hellish plots and the performance of evil deeds. "that night, a chiel might understand, the deil had business on his hand." the stars were hidden from view by masses of flying clouds; the wind whistled shrilly through the trees and spires; while the deep, threatening murmurs of distant thunder were accompanied by fitful flashes of lightning, which illumined the scene with a weird, quivering light. few shops were open in the localities through which they passed. occasionally a light was seen struggling through the screened window of a saloon, and the sound of midnight orgies within indicated that business had not been suspended there; but elsewhere all was dark and still. sloan led the way to a remote quarter of the city, and into a street which bore a particularly bad reputation. here he stopped, and said: "i must blindfold you, webster, before proceeding further. this is a rule of the order which cannot, under any circumstances, be departed from." webster submitted quietly, while a thick bandage was placed over his eyes and securely fastened. then sloan took him by the arm and led him forward. blindfolded as he was, he knew that they turned suddenly into an alleyway, and he also knew when they passed through a gate, which sloan closed behind them. he rightly conjectured that they were now in a sort of paved court, in the rear of a building. "come this way and make no noise," whispered sloan. the next moment the latter knocked on a door with a low, peculiar rap, that was like a signal. immediately a guarded voice on the inside was heard: "are you white?" "down with the blacks!" responded sloan. nothing more was said. a chain clanked inside, a bolt shot back, and the door creaked on its hinges as it swung open. webster was led through, and he and his conductor began to ascend a flight of stairs, so thickly carpeted that they emitted no sound from the footsteps upon them. at the head of the stairs they were again accosted: "halt! who comes there?" "long live jeff davis," muttered sloan. passing on through another door, they found themselves in a small, square apartment, although, so far as webster was concerned, there was no ocular proof of this. there seemed to be several persons here, and a voice, that was evidently meant to be tragical and impressive, demanded: "whom have we here?" "most noble chief," said sloan, humbly, "i have a friend in charge, who wishes to become a worthy member of this league." "his name?" "timothy webster." "have the objects of the league been fully explained to him?" "they have." the gruff-voiced speaker then said: "mr. webster, is it your desire to become a member of this knightly band?" "it is," responded the detective, firmly. there was a sound as of a number of swords leaping from their scabbards, and the clank and ring of the steel as the blades seemed to meet above his head. then the grand chief continued: "you will now kneel upon one knee, and place your right hand upon your heart, while i administer to you the binding obligation of our brotherhood." webster did as he was directed, and in this attitude repeated the following oath, as it was dictated to him: "i, timothy webster, citizen of baltimore, having been informed of the objects of this association, and being in full accord with the cause which it seeks to advance, do solemnly declare and affirm, upon my sacred honor, that i will keep forever secret all that i may see or hear, in consequence of being a member of this league; that i will implicitly obey all orders, and faithfully discharge all duties assigned to me, no matter of what nature or character they may be; and that life or death will be held subordinate to the success and advancement of the cause of the confederacy and the defeat of the bloody tyrants who are striving to rule by oppression and terrorism. should i fail in the proper performance of any task imposed upon me, or should i prove unfaithful to the obligations i have here assumed, may i suffer the severest penalty for treason and cowardice, as well as the odium and contempt of my brother knights." the swords clanked again as they were returned to their scabbards, and the new-made member, having taken the oath, was commanded to rise. he did so in silence, and the bandage was removed from his eyes. at first the light of the room almost blinded him, but his eyes soon became accustomed to the change, and he looked about him with some curiosity. he found that he was in the presence of seven stalwart men, besides sloan, all of whom wore swords at their sides, dark cloaks drooping from their shoulders, and black masks upon their faces. the masks, however, were now removed, and webster discovered, to his relief, that they were all familiar to him. "mr. webster," said the chief, dropping his tragic tone of voice, "without further ceremony, i pronounce you a knight of liberty. i greet you heartily;" and then, extending his hand--"come with me." as they emerged into the main council-chamber, webster quietly examined his surroundings. it was a spacious apartment, very plain in its appointments, with a low ceiling and bare walls, and furnished with chairs arranged in rows around the room. at the head of the hall was a low platform on which were tables and chairs. behind these, on the wall, were suspended two confederate flags, artistically draped, above which were the initials "k. of l." some forty men were already assembled, and others were quietly dropping in at intervals. webster noticed that all these men were from the better class of citizen secessionists, and that the low, rowdy element was not represented. they were mostly men who had not thus far been suspected of disloyalty to the union cause. the grand chief and other officers now took their positions on the platform, and webster was assigned to a seat where he could observe all that was said or done. presently a clock in the room struck twelve. instantly all the doors opening into the chamber were securely locked, and the secret conclave was in session. the grand chief rose and opened the meeting in regular form; and again, after the secretary had read the journal, made an address of some length. at the conclusion of his remarks, some one arose and said: "most worthy chief, i believe we can now claim mr. webster as a member of this body. i understand that he has just returned from an interesting and somewhat dangerous mission, and i now move that he be invited to address this meeting relative to his experiences during the journey he has just completed." webster, taken by surprise, undertook to combat the proposition, but the motion was unanimously concurred in, and no excuses were accepted. he therefore yielded good-naturedly, and mounting the platform, he proceeded to relate some of the particulars of his trip to the potomac. he made the recital as entertaining and agreeable as possible, and although his statements did not always possess the merit of being strictly true, they were such as could not fail to meet the approval of his hearers, and were therefore received with great favor. concluding with a well-timed panegyric on the "faithful" of baltimore, he resumed his seat amid the congratulations of his many admiring friends. after this, the regular business of the meeting was taken up, in which webster took no other part than that of a close listener and observer. motions were made, resolutions were adopted, and various duties assigned to volunteer committees. the proceedings grew more and more interesting to the detective as they progressed, and it was not long before he began to feel considerable surprise, if not alarm, at the unexpected revelations which were made. it became evident to him that these conspirators had by some means succeeded in placing themselves in direct communication with the confederate leaders, and that a gigantic plot was now in preparation to make a united and irresistible movement against washington. nearly ten thousand baltimoreans, it was alleged, were prepared to rise in arms at a moment's notice, and join the rebel army, whenever such a movement might seem feasible. it appeared, also, that the baltimoreans were not alone in this plot against the government, but that branches of their organization existed in a number of the outlying towns, and that the secessionists of the entire state were working harmoniously together for the accomplishment of one great purpose. there was no lack of arms, for these had already been secured, but their place of concealment was known only to a few and they were not to be brought to light until they should be needed. the main portion of the plot seemed to be well matured, and was most perfect in its details. the arrival of the rebel army in maryland was expected in a very short time, as they had the promises of the southern commanders themselves that they would soon cross the potomac. their coming was to be the signal for a simultaneous uprising of all the secessionists in the western and southern portions of the state, who were to unite in a movement that could scarcely fail to carry everything before it. there were also deep-laid schemes by which the federals were to be kept in ignorance of the real designs of the confederates, until too late to avert the blow. the extent of the conspiracy rather startled webster, although some of the projects sounded rather visionary, and he made up his mind to consult with me at once. accordingly, the very next day, he proceeded to washington, and was closeted with me for several hours. as soon as he had explained the situation, i devised a plan of procedure, and gave him full instructions as to the manner in which he should proceed. the great object, of course, was to break up the organization, and defeat the conspiracy in a manner that would not compromise webster; but it was not deemed prudent to go about this with any inordinate haste. i advised webster to continue attending the meetings, in the character of an active conspirator; to learn all he could, and report to me as often as possible. in the meantime, i would send him two other operatives, and he was to secure their admission into the secret society, as members thereof. in a week or two the final act in the little drama would be introduced by first making a confidant of mr. mcphail, the deputy provost-marshal of baltimore, and then confronting the conspirators with a company of armed soldiers. webster returned to baltimore with a clear understanding of the course he was to pursue, and he followed that course with the untiring zeal with which he performed every duty assigned to him. he attended the midnight meetings regularly, and gained much information concerning the plans and movements of the southern commanders, which proved of incalculable value to the government. the two operatives soon contrived to join the society, not through webster's recommendation, as that was to be avoided, if possible, but by making the acquaintances of men whom he pointed out to them, and representing themselves as secessionists who were capable of keeping their own counsel. this done, the rest was comparatively easy. by the rules of the society, no one could enter the secret chamber of the conspirators without passing two guards, and giving sundry pass-words. these guards were appointed by the chief from those who volunteered for the positions. at stated periods, new pass-words were arranged, by which every man was required to answer the questions of the guards, and any one who failed to commit these to memory sufficiently to satisfy these sentinels that he was a member of the society, found himself barred out of the meeting. our plan worked to perfection. there came a night when my two operatives were on duty, as guards, they having volunteered their services at the last preceding meeting. this was the night set apart for the surprise. it had been announced that webster would speak that night, and it had been arranged with the guards, that a certain part in his speech should be taken as the signal for the grand finale that had been decided upon. the hour of midnight approached. the old building in which the secret conclaves were held was shrouded in silence and darkness. at intervals one or more dark figures might have been seen to enter the covered archway leading thereto, and pass through the gate into the narrow court. then, one at a time, they approached a certain door, and after a signal rap, and a low, muttered conversation with the guards, they passed in and ascended the dimly-lighted stairs. another brief dialogue with the inside guard, and they entered the council-chamber, where they dropped their mysterious manner, and were ready to answer to their names at the calling of the roll. the clock struck twelve. the sound rang through the apartment in solemn, measured tones, and as the twelfth stroke was still vibrating in the air, all the doors, even those communicating with the ante-rooms, were promptly locked, no one being admitted after that hour. the meeting was opened after the regular form, and the business disposed of without interruption. when the time which was set apart for addresses arrived, webster was called upon for his speech. he ascended the platform with a serious expression on his face, and after thanking his fellow-knights for the honor conferred upon him, he launched forth into a stirring address, the treasonable nature of which was calculated to fire the southern blood of his hearers, and to add much to his own popularity. as the speaker appeared to warm up with his subject he lifted his voice and exclaimed: "the dissolution of the union is one of the inevitable necessities of lincoln's election, and it will be our mission to strike directly at the heart of the abolition party, and bury its foul carcass beneath the smoking ruins of washington city!" this was the signal. the words had no sooner passed the lips of the speaker, than a startling noise, like that of a battering-ram being applied to one of the ante-room doors, cut short the speech, and caused every man present to spring to his feet in astonishment and alarm. bang! bang! bang! sounded the heavy blows. the door burst open with a crash, and a stream of blue-coated soldiers, all fully armed, came pouring into the council-chamber, and quickly deployed around three sides of the room, effectually cutting off the retreat of the inmates before they could make a movement. [illustration: "_the door burst open and a stream of blue coated soldiers came pouring in._" p ] the sudden and unexpected appearance of these intruders had a paralyzing effect upon the conspirators. had so many ghosts confronted them they could not have been more surprised. horrified consternation was depicted on every blanched face; startled eyes looked wildly around for some avenue of escape, and exclamations of terror or baffled rage broke from many white lips. some of the most desperate seemed for a moment to entertain thoughts of breaking through the line of soldiers and reaching the door, but no such mad attempt was made. mcphail stepped forward with a revolver in each hand, and in a low, thrilling voice, said: "gentlemen, you are our prisoners. i advise you to give in gracefully. we are too many for you." his advice did not go unheeded. they surrendered as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, and resigned themselves to the custody of their armed foes. the chamber in which they had maliciously plotted the overthrow of the government became the scene of their own downfall, and it was with dejected countenances that they submitted to the inevitable, and permitted themselves to be marched in a body before the provost-marshal. it was not observed, however, until they were being removed, that timothy webster had somehow contrived to make good his escape. the leading spirits of this conspiracy--those who did the actual plotting, and who were known to be the arch traitors and prime movers in the secret enterprise--were taken to fort mchenry. the rest, after taking the oath of allegiance, were released. my two operatives disappeared from baltimore immediately after this occurrence, as well they might, for of course the suspicion of the defeated conspirators fastened upon them at once. as they did not show themselves in that city again, however, they never were made the victims of the terrible vengeance which some of their late associates swore to bring down upon their luckless heads at the first opportunity. as for webster, instead of being suspected of any complicity in the betrayal, he was congratulated upon his fortunate and remarkable escape from the fate which befell his unfortunate brother knights. with the defeat of the "knights of liberty" in baltimore, ended the existence of the branch lodges all over the state. the organization, which had so carefully planned the destruction of the union at a single blow, was completely broken up. the conspirators, taking warning by the fate of their leaders, became mute and inactive, and although skilled detectives were sent to all outlying towns, no new signs of an uprising were discovered. chapter xix. _suspicions in washington.--"uncle gallus."--property searched.--a rebel family sent south.--webster starts for richmond._ aside from the operations of timothy webster and his assistants in baltimore, there was work enough to do in washington to keep myself and all the members of my large force constantly employed. innumerable persons, suspected of treasonable designs, were closely shadowed; whole families became objects of distrust, and fell under the watchful eye of my department; while the ungracious task of searching the homes of people who stood upon the highest round of the social ladder became of frequent occurrence. among the latter class were the wife and family of ex-governor morton, of florida, who at this time were sojourning in washington. mrs. morton was known to be in sympathy with the south, and the unceasing vigilance of my men soon developed the fact that she was in secret communication with certain officials of the rebel government, to whom she was giving information concerning affairs at the north. she was a lady of eminent respectability and refinement, and much esteemed by all who knew her, but this did not render it less advisable, under the circumstances, to have all her movements watched, and her house constantly shadowed by detectives. her pleasant residence at no. "i" street, was therefore placed under strict surveillance, and its inmates followed whenever they went out for a walk or drive, while all visitors at the house were invariably shadowed when they went away. there was an old negro servant, known as uncle gallus, who went to and from the house oftener than any one else, on errands for the family. finally one of my operatives drew the old fellow into conversation, and found him so cheerful and communicative, and so firm in his loyalty to the northern cause, that when the fact was reported to me, i concluded to talk with uncle gallus myself. accordingly, i gave orders to have him brought to my office, if it could be done without opposition on his part. the friendship i bore for the colored race, and my long experience as an underground railroad conductor, had given me such an insight into the character of the negro, that i believed i could gain his confidence and good-will if i should meet him. uncle gallus came to my office quite willingly. he was a powerfully-built darky, though evidently well advanced in years, as attested by the bleached appearance of his wool and eyebrows. his skin was as black and shone as bright as polished ebony, and it took but little provocation to set him on a broad grin, which displayed two unbroken rows of glistening ivory. this interesting specimen appeared before me one afternoon, when timothy webster was with me in my office. we had just finished a discussion concerning some delicate point in webster's baltimore operations, and had lapsed into a desultory conversation. my sable visitor stood bowing and scraping, and turning his hat round and round in his hands, till i bid him be seated. "your name is gallus?" i said. "yes, sah," he replied, his mouth stretched from ear to ear. "folks done got so dey call me _uncle_ gallus nowadays." "you have been a slave all your life, i understand?" "yes, massa, eber sence i war knee-high to a hopper-grass. i'se done a mighty sight o' wu'k, too, 'kase i wus allus as big an stout as a sixty-dollah bull, an' i could stan' mo' hard-fisted labor dan any o' de udder niggahs on de plantation. but sence i been wid massa morton i ain't had nuffin' to do skursely, an' it seems as ef i'se gwine to git pow'ful lazy fur de want o' wu'k. h'yah! h'yah!" "what is your native state, uncle gallus?" "ole virginny, sah." he held his head a little higher, and sat a trifle more erect as he said this, showing that inordinate pride in his state which i had so often noticed in other virginia slaves, as well as in virginia masters. i asked him if the mortons had offered him his freedom since the breaking out of the war. he shook his head and gravely replied: "dey hain't been nuffin' said to dis pusson on dat 'ar subjick, but i knows dey'd gimme my freedom in less'n twenty-fo' hours ef i done ax 'em fur it." "then you don't want to be free?" "oh, yes, i does, massa; yes, i does, fur sho'. but massa linkum an' de yankee boys am gwine ter fetch dat aroun' all right by'm-bye. bress your soul an' body, i can't b'ar fur to run away from missus an' ole massa, 'kase dey's been so good an' kyind to me; an' i'se done tuk an oath dat i won't leave 'em till dey gimme leaf. when missus goes back down souf i'se gwine ter go wid her, ef she don't tole me to stay heah. it won't be long, nohow, 'kase de time am soon comin' when de darkies will all be free." "your mistress intends to return to the south, then?" "yes, sah; we'll soon be off now, ef de good lo'd will let us. massa, he's in richmond, an' he hab done sent fur de family." "is mrs. morton in communication with her husband?" "spec' she is, sah. she writes letters, an' _gits_ letters. she has ter be sorter keerful like, for dese 'yah yankees is got eyes like a cat, an' kin see fru a stun wall in de dark." "do you know whether your mistress writes to any one besides her husband?" uncle gallus leaned back in his chair, and looked at me somewhat suspiciously, the whites of his eyes shining like polished china. "'deed, sah, i doesn't know whedder she dusdo, or whedder she doant," he said, hesitatingly. "please, massa, doant ax dis chile any mo' questions. my missus is de bes' woman in de wu'ld, and nebber didn't do nuffin' wrong in all her bawn days. ole gallus wouldn't say nuffin' to bring trubble on her for fifteen cents," he added, earnestly. i quieted the fears of the faithful old man by assuring him that i meant no harm to his mistress, and that i had no doubt she was the good lady he represented her to be. satisfied with the result of my investigations, i permitted uncle gallus to depart, first charging him, however, to say nothing to any one concerning my interview with him. he promised secrecy, and bowed himself out with all his teeth visible, saying, as he went: "fo' de lawd, gemmen, i'se hopin an' prayin' de no'thun folks will be de top dog in dis wrastle, an' ef eber dis niggah hes a chance to gib yu'uns a helpin' han', yu' kin bet a hoss agin' a coon-skin he'll do it; but i hope an' trus' my missus not be boddered." nevertheless, i had learned enough to bring me to the decision, that mrs. morton's house must be searched, and under orders of the secretary of war, i sent three of my men to no. "i" street, to perform this unpleasant task. the operatives chosen to make the search were w. h. scott, john scully, and pryce lewis. mrs. morton received them very civilly, and told them they were at liberty to make a thorough search of the premises, which they immediately proceeded to do. they had instructions to read all letters that were found, but to keep only those that were of a treasonable nature, and in no case to destroy any property or leave anything in a disordered condition. these instructions were obeyed to the letter. boxes that were packed ready for shipment were all carefully repacked and closed after they had been examined by my men, and when the operatives departed, they left no traces of their search behind them. their polite and considerate conduct won for them the good will, not only of mrs. morton herself, but also of her daughter and two sons, who expressed themselves as being agreeably surprised, for they had been informed that the men from the provost-marshal's office were a set of ruffians, who did not scruple to break up boxes, and litter the house with their contents, and that their conduct towards ladies was insulting in the extreme. they even went so far as to assure the operatives, that if any of them should ever be taken prisoner and brought to richmond, they would do all in their power to secure kind treatment for them. among the letters that were found, two of them were from ex-governor morton, to his son and daughter, requesting them to come to him at richmond; but nothing of a criminating character was discovered, and the family were not subjected to further annoyance. some two weeks afterwards, when john scully boarded a train for baltimore, whither i had sent him with a message to webster, he chanced to meet mrs. morton and family in the car which he entered. they were departing from washington, having been required to leave the north, by the authorities, who furnished them a safe passport to richmond, and they were accompanied by the faithful uncle gallus. they recognized scully, and greeted him with cordial courtesy, the eldest son rising in his seat to shake hands with him. they told him that on arriving at baltimore, they were to take a flag-of-truce boat to fortress monroe, from which point they would continue their journey to richmond. scully as a matter of policy, gave them distinctly to understand that he had quitted the government service and was returning to his home in the north. this little experience with the morton family was trifling enough in itself, and was only one of many similar episodes with which i and my force were connected during those troublous times; but i have been thus particular in detailing it because it has an important bearing upon other events which afterwards occurred. it was about a month after the incident above mentioned, that timothy webster completed his preparations for making his first trip into virginia and through the rebel lines. a large number of baltimoreans had intrusted him with letters to their friends and relatives in the south, and he had assured them that their messages would be delivered safely and answers brought back in due time. he left baltimore on the th of october, and proceeded southward along the "eastern shore" of virginia, seeking a convenient place to cross over to the mainland or "western shore." he arrived at eastville, the county seat of northampton county, on tuesday, october d, where he found that he could effect a crossing with the assistance of a man named marshall, who made a business of smuggling passengers and mails through the lines. he was compelled, however, to remain at eastville several days, waiting for marshall and his boat to come over from the other side, his trips being delayed on account of the bright moonlight nights, as the boatman did not dare to run the gantlet of the federal guns, unless covered by darkness. some two or three months before, this man, marshall, had owned a sloop, which he had used successfully in running the federal blockade. one night he was caught in a calm near the western shore, and was run-down by a gunboat. his sloop was captured, and he narrowly escaped capture by deserting his vessel and reaching the shore in a smaller boat. since that time marshall had been pursuing his vocation with a sort of canoe, or "dugout," thirty-one feet in length and five feet in width, carrying three sails--main, fore and jib. his route was from gloucester point, york river, to eastville, and his business was to transfer from one side of the bay to the other the confederate mail and passengers, and sometimes a small cargo of merchandise. marshall being an expert pilot and a thorough seaman, was frequently employed by the masters of sloops and schooners to pilot them past certain points, they giving him the privilege of putting his passengers and mail-bags aboard the vessel without charge. it was his invariable custom to place a stone or other heavy substance in his mail-bag before starting, for the purpose of sinking it in case of being pressed by the gunboats. it was on a dark evening that webster left cherrystone lighthouse in marshall's canoe, to make the voyage across the chesapeake. there were thirteen passengers, all told. eight of these were marylanders, mostly from baltimore, every one of whom announced his intention of enlisting in the confederate army or navy upon his arrival at richmond. on starting, marshall rowed off a short distance from the light-house, and rested on his oars for some time, taking observations to ascertain if the bay was clear of hostile craft. the night was scarcely dark enough for safety; the clouds were thin and scattered, and the stars were peeping through the dark, ragged curtain overhead. the wind was blowing strongly from the east, and the water was exceedingly rough. resolving, however, to make the effort, marshall hoisted his sails, and as they rapidly filled, the little vessel sprung forward like a thing of life. it fairly skimmed over the waves, its sharp prow cutting the water and dashing up clouds of spray that caused the men to turn up their coat-collars and pull their hats down closer upon their heads. all conversation was forbidden, lest their voices should betray them to the enemy. with sealed lips and motionless forms, they might have been so many dark phantoms speeding before the wind on some supernatural mission. webster, by his own wish, had been put upon the look-out by the captain of the boat, and he keenly watched for signs of danger. when they had traveled nearly half the distance across the bay, he spied a point of light to leeward, and at once called marshall's attention to it. "it is a gunboat with a light on her bows," said the latter. "let her come. she can't catch us, for with oar present headway we are not to be overhauled by any boat on this water." the canoe was headed due west for about fourteen miles, then south-west by west for ten or twelve miles, then due west again to gloucester point. the entire run was made in three and a half hours, the sailing distance being about thirty miles. on nearing gloucester point, they were hailed by a sentinel, with the usual challenge: "who comes there?" the blockade-runner sent back the answer: "marshall--mail boat!" "stand, marshall, and give the countersign!" "no countersign," was the reply. the sentinel then called out: "sergeant of the guard, post no. !" and another voice, further away, cried: "who's there?" "marshall, with mail boat and passengers." "sentinel, let them pass." a few minutes later the passengers disembarked, and found themselves in a rebel camp. webster, with others, went to marshall's shanty--a rude, wooden structure, which that worthy had built on the point for the accommodation of his passengers--and there the remainder of the night was spent in the refreshing companionship of morpheus. on the following morning webster was up and astir at an early hour. he ascertained that the encampment at gloucester point consisted of two regiments of infantry, two companies of cavalry, and one field battery of six guns, all under the command of col. charles h. crump. the entrenchments comprised an area of about fifteen acres, and the main breastwork on the beach consisted of a heavy earth-bank, walled on the inside with split pine logs set up on end. about the center of this breastwork was a sixty-four-pound gun, mounted on a high carriage, which traversed in a circle commanding a sweep of the whole land side of the entrenchments, where there was a clean field of about seven hundred acres bounded by timber on the north and york river on the south. general magruder had command of this division of the army, including the forces at gloucester point, yorktown and all the peninsula bounded by the james and york rivers, extending down to fortress monroe. the division embraced thirty-three regiments of infantry and cavalry. webster called at colonel crump's headquarters and obtained from that officer a pass to richmond, not only for himself, but for several others who had crossed the bay with him. at about the hour of noon on saturday, the th, the party were ferried across the river to yorktown, in a small boat. the landing at yorktown was in front of a hill which rose with a gentle slope some twenty-five feet above the beach, on the top of which, in front of the town, was an earthwork mounting six or eight guns. from this point the party proceeded in a south-westerly direction, across the peninsula, to grove wharf, on james river. the distance was about ten miles, and was accomplished without difficulty or delay. on their arrival at grove wharf, however, they were disappointed to learn that no boat was to leave there for richmond until the following monday. there was no help for it, and with a rueful attempt at resignation, they took quarters at a neighboring farm-house, where they waited and rested. chapter xx. _the spy at richmond.--earthworks around the rebel capital.--an unexpected meeting.--pistols for two.--a reconciliation.--safe return to washington._ on monday morning webster left grove wharf, on the regular steam packet, for richmond, where he arrived on the evening of the same day. here he separated from his companions and made his way alone to the spotswood hotel, where he registered, and proceeded to make himself at home. he was now in the rebel capital, surrounded on all sides by the enemies of his country, with no friends to whom he could apply in case of danger, and burdened with a mission, upon the successful performance of which his life depended. it was a mission, too, requiring such delicate and skillful labor, that a man less iron-nerved would have trembled at the very contemplation of it; but webster, whose courage and self-command never deserted him in the most trying moments of his life, coolly reviewed the situation and laid his plans in a systematic manner for future operations. the next day, he busied himself about the city, delivering his letters, forming acquaintances, and paving the way for an interview with the secretary of war, his object being to obtain from that high official, if possible, a pass to manassas and winchester. he was informed by general jones, post-adjutant to general winder, the provost-marshal at richmond, and commander of the forces there, that no interview could be obtained with the secretary of war, except upon business especially connected with the military department, as they were daily expecting an attack from the federal army of the potomac, and the secretary was wholly engaged with officers of the army. among the acquaintances which webster formed, was a young man by the name of william campbell, originally a baltimorean, to whom he brought a letter of introduction from the father of the young man. campbell treated my operative with the utmost friendliness and courtesy, and invited him to a drive during the afternoon. the invitation was accepted, and as the weather was all that could be desired, they enjoyed a very pleasant afternoon. they visited the environs for the purpose of viewing the defenses, and webster noted the fact that there were seventeen very superior earthwork batteries around the town, forming a rude semicircle with either end resting on the james river. the entrenchments around each of these batteries were from twelve to fourteen feet wide at the top, and about ten feet deep. some of the batteries were designed for six guns and some for sixteen. they were nearly all completed at this time, and the work upon them had been done exclusively by negro slaves. in most cases they were mounted with their full complement of guns, varying in caliber, from thirty-two to sixty-four pounds. the land around richmond consists of hills and valleys, and the batteries were planted on the most elevated and commanding points. the heaviest of these commanded the turnpikes and railroads which formed the approaches from manassas and fredericksburg. after visiting the batteries, webster went with campbell to the ordnance department, where he was introduced to several persons who had charge of the ordnance stores, and from whom he elicited much valuable information. among other things, he was informed by the colonel in charge, that the "bermuda," an english vessel which had recently run the blockade, had brought over for the confederate government twelve thousand enfield rifles, a large supply of cavalry swords and a number of rifled cannon; and that, upon trial, the rifled cannon were found to be more accurate than any of their brass pieces. on the following day webster concluded to make another inspection of the earthworks around the city. he went alone and on foot this time, as he desired to make some notes and calculations, which he was unable to do in the presence of others without running an unnecessary risk. it was a fine, brisk morning, the air was slightly tinged with the coolness of approaching winter, and the spy occupied the entire forenoon in strolling leisurely from point to point, apparently with the single object of idling away a few leisure hours. now he passed some men engaged in planting a cannon on one of the redoubts, and again he saw a group of slaves busily at work with pickaxes and shovels, but no one seemed to pay any attention to him. about noon he came upon a scene, which, though characteristic of the time and place, was rather a novel sight to a northern man, and he stopped to view it with considerable interest. in a sunny spot near the river bank about a dozen negro laborers were gathered, their surroundings showing that they had just left off work for the enjoyment of their allotted hour of rest, at noon. having finished their mid-day repast, they were now filling their time by indulging in a species of amusement peculiar to their race. on a pine log sat a jolly-looking old negro, whose hair was white as snow and whose face was black as ebony, grinning, and rolling his head from side to side, while he patted "juba" with great energy and skill, on his knees, chest and head. the other darkies were dancing to the "music," and apparently enjoying the sport to an unlimited degree. the detective was amused at the spectacle, but this feeling gave way to one of surprise and curiosity, as he looked more intently at the white-haired old man who was acting as _musician_. there was something strikingly familiar in those black, smiling features. surely this was not the first time he had seen that face, or witnessed that tremendous grin. where had he met this darky before? suddenly his recollection was quickened. the person in question was none other than uncle gallus, the servant of ex-governor morton, whom he had seen in my office at washington, on the day that i had questioned him about his mistress. this fact was clear enough to webster, but somewhat surprising, withal. he remembered that uncle gallus had, on that occasion, represented the mortons as very indulgent slave-owners, who never permitted him to perform any hard labor; yet here he was, in the role of a common workman, employed upon the fortifications around richmond. whatever had caused this change, however, it did not appear to weigh heavily upon the old darky, for at this moment he was in the very ecstasy of delight, as he patted inspiration into the nimble feet of his companions. the other darkies danced until their faces shone with perspiration, and the manner in which their loose-jointed limbs swung and wriggled, suggested the idea that those members were hung on pivots. they leaped and vaulted, and flung their heels in the airs, as if they were so many jumping-jacks and uncle gallus was pulling the string. the latter hummed snatches of plantation melodies as he warmed up to his work, and finally he sung a series of characteristic verses, of which the following are a sample: "did you ebber see a woodchuck lookin' at a coon-fight? linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye; did you ebber see a niggah gal dancin' in de moonlight? glory, glory, glory hallelujerum! "possum up a gum-stump, chawin' slippery-ellum, linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye; nigga's in de market an' massa tryin' to sell 'em-- glory, glory, glory hallelujerum! "secesh in richmon'--de yankee boys has treed 'em-- linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye; all de little pickaninnies gwine to git dar freedom-- glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!" suddenly the merriment of the blacks was interrupted in a most unexpected manner. some tall bushes that covered the top of a slight elevation near by were suddenly parted, and a man, wearing the uniform of a lieutenant in the confederate army, leaped down among the astonished revelers. in a towering rage, he turned upon uncle gallus and shouted: "shut your head, you d----d old villain, or i'll fill your black hide with lead!" and he flourished a cocked revolver in the face of the terrified negro. "afo' god, massa, we didn't mean no harm, we's jes passin' away de time," said uncle gallus, in a frightened voice. "well, then," said the officer, with an oath, "be a little more careful in the future about the kind of songs you sing, or i'll have every d----d one of you bucked and gagged, and whipped within an inch of your lives." replacing his weapon, and turning on his heel, he was striding angrily away when he came face to face with webster. the recognition was mutual and instantaneous between the two men. as quick as a flash webster had his revolver cocked and pointed at the head of the blustering confederate. "bill zigler, what are you doing here? you move at your peril." "i'd kill you, curse you, but you've got the drop on me now, as you had once before. but my time will come, you d----d yankee spy!" "look here, bill!" said webster, anxious, if possible, to disarm at once and forever the suspicions of his enemy, "what is the use of our being continually at daggers' points? you were foolish enough to insult me in baltimore by impeaching my loyalty to the south, and i resented it, as any man would. if you repeat the vile slander, i'll do the same thing. if, however, you have anything personal against me, and must fight, i'll put up my weapon and meet you hand to hand." zigler looked at the speaker a moment, and then advancing and extending his hand, said: "webster, put up your pistol; i guess i've made a d----d fool of myself. i did think you were a spy, but i knock under; i don't want to be an enemy to such a friend to the cause as i now believe you to be." lowering his revolver, webster good-naturedly received the friendly overtures of his former foe. "i thought you would come to your senses at last; but when did you come down here?" "oh, i've been here several weeks. i enlisted in baltimore and came down as a lieutenant," answered zigler. "but where are you from?" he continued, "and what is the news from the monumental city?" "i am just from that city," replied webster, "and have brought a number of letters for parties here and at manassas. i expect to go to the junction to-morrow, if i succeed in getting a pass." "who do you want to see there?" "well, i want to see john bowen," replied webster, naming a particular friend of zigler's, whom he knew was at manassas. "i understand he is down with typhoid fever, and will no doubt be glad to hear from home." this straightforward story completely disarmed the suspicions of the bully as to webster's true character, and finding that he had time to spare he invited the scout to his quarters. thus the quarrel was settled between these two men, and the superior tact and coolness of webster had succeeded in making a friend of a man who might have seriously interfered with his operations, and probably have jeopardized his life. as they were leaving the place, webster cast a look at the group of negroes, whose mirth had been so suddenly interrupted, and he noticed that they were regarding the lieutenant with looks of sullen anger. he was, however, considerably relieved to find that uncle gallus had not recognized him, and that as far as the aged negro was concerned, he had nothing to fear. he accompanied zigler to his quarters, where they chatted pleasantly for an hour, after which webster returned to his hotel, a much wiser man than when he first started out upon his walk. as he sauntered quietly back to the city, he felt quite elated at the success of his management of zigler, whom he had made a fast friend. after supper, in company with mr. campbell, he strolled about the city for a short time, when his companion excused himself, and webster pursued his way alone. he was walking along utah street, apparently deeply absorbed in his own meditations, when he heard a voice behind him. "hole on dar, massa!" turning around, he was surprised to see uncle gallus, approaching him as rapidly as his stiffened limbs would permit. "well, uncle," said webster, as the old man caught up to him--"did you speak to me?" "you'se de man dat i 'dressed, sah--done you know me?" said the old fellow, peering anxiously in the face of the detective. "no, i don't remember you," said webster, determined to ascertain whether the old darky did know him; "where have you ever seen me?" "in washington, sah," replied uncle gallus; "don' you remember you saw me at majah allen's, when i was dah libin wid missus morton?" webster looked at the negro a moment, and then, feeling assured of the friendliness of his interlocutor, he said: "your face does seem familiar to me; what is your name?" "dey calls me uncle gallus, sah," answered the old fellow. "oh, yes," said webster, "now i remember you." "golly, massa," grinned uncle gallus, "wen i seed you gib it to bill zigler dis mo'nin', i dun knowed you right away, but i wouldn't say nuffin' for de world, fo' i knowed you was a pullin' de wool ober his eyes." knowing full well that he had nothing to fear from uncle gallus, he talked with him good-naturedly on various topics, and in the course of the conversation he learned that he was no longer with mrs. morton, having been disposed of by her, some time before, and that he was now being used by the confederate government to work upon the fortifications. not deeming it advisable to remain long in conversation with the old darky on the streets, he told him that he would see him in a day or two, and placing a coin in the old man's hand, he bade him good-night. the next morning mr. campbell and webster visited general jones, and obtained the sought-for passes to manassas, for which place he left early in the forenoon. on his arrival there, he learned that john bowen, for whom he had a letter, had been taken to richmond, but having several other messages to deliver to parties of prominence there, he busied himself during the day in forming acquaintances, and in acquiring knowledge. from manassas he went to centreville, where he remained a few days, and from thence to warrington, and finally back again to richmond, where he delivered his remaining letters. here he formed the acquaintance of a man by the name of price, who was engaged in running the blockade, and who was making arrangements to return to baltimore, to purchase a fresh supply of goods. together they went to the office of the provost-marshal, where they obtained the necessary passes to insure their safe journey through the rebel lines. leaving richmond, they went to fredericksburg, where he stayed long enough to visit all the places of interest around that city, and in company with mr. price they went on to brooks station, the headquarters of general holmes, with whom price was intimately acquainted. after remaining several days, he left his companion, making his way to yorktown and gloucester point, and from thence to washington, where he reported to me. this first visit of timothy webster to richmond was highly successful. not only had he made many friends in that city, who would be of service to him on subsequent trips, but the information he derived was exceedingly valuable. he was able to report very correctly the number and strength of the fortifications around the rebel capital, to estimate the number of troops and their sources of supplies, and also the forts between that city and manassas junction. his notes of the topography of the country were of the greatest value, and he received the warmest thanks of the commanding general, for what he had thus far been able to accomplish. chapter xxi. _again in baltimore.--a warning.--the spy is arrested, and escapes._ after the return of timothy webster from richmond and manassas, i deemed it best that he should again visit baltimore and mingle once more with his rebel friends in that city. since the summary collapse of the knights of liberty the majority of them had been remarkably quiet, and no indications were apparent that they contemplated any further proceedings of a treasonable nature. it will be remembered that on the night that the secret meeting was disturbed, webster managed in some unaccountable manner to escape, and that he had disappeared almost immediately afterwards. as no suspicion existed as yet of his having been concerned in the affair, and as his prolonged absence might give rise to doubts of his loyalty, i concluded that it was best for him to again show himself among his old associates, and account for his escape in a manner that would appear truthful and straightforward. he accordingly took the train, and after arriving in baltimore, he went directly to miller's hotel. here he found several of his friends, and their greetings were most cordial and hearty. in a few moments others of the party had been notified, and came thronging in to welcome him and to congratulate him upon his escape and present safety. eager inquiries were made as to the manner in which he had so successfully eluded the soldiers, and how he had spent the time since the occurrence of that event. in reply webster gave a satisfactory and highly interesting account of his movements, all of which was heartily enjoyed by his listening friends. gratified beyond expression at the pleasant condition of affairs, he became quite jolly, and the balance of the evening was spent in convivial and social enjoyment. on the following morning he started out in search of his old friend sam sloan, for whom he had a letter from his brother, who was in the rebel army, and stationed at centreville. having also a number of letters for other baltimoreans, he desired to secure sloan's services in their proper and safe delivery. sam looked in astonishment as webster blandly approached him, and after an effusive greeting he remarked earnestly: "webster, you'll have to be mighty careful now, or you will be arrested yet. we are watched night and day--the least suspicious move we make is reported at once--and if repeated, the first thing the offender knows he finds himself in the guard-house." "well," replied webster, laughingly, "i'll have to take my chances with the rest of you." "i know your grit, webster," said sloan, "but by all means be careful. i was arrested myself since you went away." "the deuce you were!" ejaculated webster. "how did that occur?" "well, i went over to washington to transact a little business, and while there i met some of the boys, and we had a little 'time.' i don't know what i did, but when i started to come home, the provost-marshal arrested me, and i had to take the oath of allegiance before i could get away." "you don't tell me that you took the oath, sam?" "yes, i did," laughed sam. "i would take twenty oaths before i would be locked up;" and then he added: "i tell you, we are all spotted here in this city, and who is doing it we can't find out." "what makes you think that?" inquired webster, doubtfully. "many things. why, only the other day i was taken before lieutenant watts, who has charge of the station-house, and the questions he put to me about the gang, convinced me that he knew a great deal more than was good for us." "did he ask anything about me?" queried webster. "no," replied sam, "and if he had i wouldn't have told him anything, you may be sure." "i can readily believe that," said the detective, "but if it is so dangerous here, how am i going to deliver these letters?" "i can help you there," said sloan, after a moment's consideration; "john earl, richardson and i will see that they are delivered, and that will keep you from incurring suspicion." "that will do," said webster, "and you can tell the people you see to write their answers at once, and inclose them in two envelopes, one directed to their friend, and the other to john hart, at miller's hotel." "i understand; but who is this john hart you mention--can we trust him?" "i think so," replied the detective, laughing heartily; "his other name is timothy webster." "by jove, webster, you're a good one; i begin to think myself that there isn't so much danger of your getting caught after all." this being satisfactorily arranged, the two men started in search of john earl and richardson, who both agreed to assist in the delivery of the letters which webster had brought with him from the south. they all went to the room occupied by the detective at the hotel, and after a friendly drink, the letters were properly assorted, and each man was given his particular portion. they were instructed to request answers from those only in whose friendship they could implicitly rely, and to take in person any that were prepared at the time. in the afternoon, webster called on mr. campbell, the father of the young man who had accompanied him on his trip from richmond to manassas junction. the old gentleman was rejoiced to hear from his son, and after a few minutes' conversation webster discovered that he was quite as bitter a secessionist as any one he had met, although he was quite aged and not very active. he informed the detective that he had once made a very handsome horse-bit for general mcclellan, and that he was now making one for general johnston, which he would like webster to take with him when he next went to richmond, and deliver it to the general in person. "have everything ready," said the detective, "and i will see that it reaches its destination in safety." returning to the hotel, he went in to supper, and after a hearty repast seated himself in the reading-room to await the return of his mail-carriers. while carelessly glancing over the columns of a daily paper, he was approached by a gentleman, who stepped in front of him, exclaiming heartily: "why, mr. webster, how do you do? i am glad to see you; when did you get back to baltimore?" looking up hastily from his paper, webster recognized the speaker as mr. price, the blockade runner whom he had met in richmond, and with whom he had traveled some distance through the rebel country. their greeting was most cordial, and the return of john earl and sam sloan found the two men engaged in animated conversation. from price, webster learned that a large amount of goods had been purchased by several wealthy gentlemen of baltimore, who had adopted a very novel manner of transporting them into rebeldom, without danger from federal pickets or gunboats. their plan was to ship the goods upon a vessel bound for europe and ostensibly the goods were intended for the same destination. in addition to this a small boat was purchased, which was to be taken in tow by the steamer. by an arrangement with the captain the vessel was to stand in as close as possible to the mouth of york river, when the small boat was to be brought alongside, then the goods were to be transferred to it, and the owners were to pull up the river to yorktown, effect a safe landing, and the rest would be an easy task. webster complimented his companion on the shrewdness displayed in this suggestion, and that evening he wrote to me, conveying full particulars of the proposed blockade-running. it is needless to say that this little plan, shrewd as it was, failed of execution. men were at once placed upon the track of these merchants, and a more surprised coterie never existed than were these gentlemen, when their goods, carefully labeled for a foreign port, were seized by the government, and their conveyance to the south effectually stopped. an examination of the goods fully confirmed the correctness of webster's information, and this venture, at least, was a losing speculation to those who had engaged in it. after mr. price had taken his departure, john earl called webster aside, and informed him that a gentleman desired to send a draft for a large amount of money to richmond, and that he had insisted on placing it in the hands of john hart himself. "do you know this man, and that he is all right?" asked webster. "no," replied earl, "i know nothing about him except that he is vouched for by three parties who are true, and they say he is all right." "i don't like this idea," said webster, doubtfully; "i guess you had better tell this man that you will deliver it safely for him, and then you can hand it to me." "i did suggest that, but he said his orders were to intrust it to no one but john hart himself." after considering for some time, webster finally concluded to see the individual in person. he was satisfied that no harm could come to him if the man was a federal detective, as, by application to the authorities or to me he could readily extricate himself from any difficulty, and if he was a rebel, he would incur no risk whatever. "very well," he said, after he had fully deliberated the question, "you can bring him to my room and then we will see what is to be done. meanwhile i will take a short walk and smoke a cigar." on his return he found john earl awaiting him. "the gentleman is up-stairs in my room," said earl; "will you go up now and see him?" webster signified his willingness, and the two men ascended the stairs. as they entered the room the stranger arose to greet them, and webster scrutinized him carefully. the result of his scrutiny was decidedly unsatisfactory. the new-comer was a tall, well-formed man, of about forty years of age. his hair was dark, and he wore long side-whiskers of the same color. in appearance he was what would be ordinarily considered a handsome man, but there was a look of quiet curiosity about the eyes, and a peculiar curl about the mouth, which struck webster very unpleasantly, and caused him to instinctively regret having accorded him the interview which he desired. "mr. hart," said the stranger, pleasantly, after they had been formally introduced to each other, "i have a letter here, inclosing a draft, which i am desirous of having safely delivered to my sister-in-law in richmond. you will find the address upon the envelope inside. can you attend to this?" "i guess so," replied webster. "i can try, at all events." webster could not overcome a feeling of unrest and suspicion, as he conversed with the man, and he felt considerably relieved when, after expressing his thanks, he took his departure. the next morning webster was astir early, and after partaking of a hearty breakfast, he thought he would pay another visit to mr. bowen. leaving the hotel, he walked rapidly down the street in the direction of the old man's residence. he had not proceeded far when, on turning around, he noticed that his friend of the night before was walking upon the opposite side of the street, and but a short distance behind him. finding that he was observed, the man crossed the street, and after bidding webster a very cordial good-morning, said: "mr. hart, as we are walking in the same direction, if you have no objection, we will walk together." webster assented, and for a short distance they journeyed along, indulging in a very constrained conversation. webster felt assured that the man had been following him, and that his apparent friendliness was assumed. desiring to rid himself of his unwelcome and uncomfortable companion, he was upon the point of expressing himself very forcibly, when he was startled by the stranger grasping him firmly by the arm, and ejaculating: "john hart, you are my prisoner!" had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet he could not have been more surprised, but recovering himself quickly, he wrenched himself from the grasp of the man. "what do you mean, sir?" he asked. [illustration: "_john hart, you are my prisoner._" p. .] "just what i have said," replied the other, coolly; "there is no occasion for any controversy upon the question, and as you are directly in front of the station-house, resistance would be worse than useless." the cool manner in which these words were spoken exasperated webster beyond control, but he saw that there were two soldiers standing guard in the doorway, and he realized at once that any attempt at escape would be foolhardy in the extreme. he therefore submitted quietly, and suffered himself to be led into the building, where an officer was seated at a table, examining the reports of the previous day. the recognition between the lieutenant and webster's captor appeared to be mutual, and, indeed, the presence of my operative did not seem to be an unlooked-for event. "lieutenant, this is mr. hart," said the stranger. "all right," replied that officer, "we will take good care of him." after a short consultation, held in a tone too low for webster to hear, the stranger took his leave, and the officer turned to the detective: "come with me, sir; your case will be attended to in the course of the day." "lieutenant, i would like to speak to you a moment, now that we are alone," said webster, desirous of ending the matter, and of enabling the lieutenant to ascertain his true character. "i have no time to talk with rebels," said the officer, shortly, and then calling to the turnkey, he directed him to place webster in a cell. deeply resenting the treatment of the officer, but feeling that opposition would only aggravate his annoyance, webster followed the man, internally vowing vengeance against the fellow who had instigated his arrest. he was anxious to express himself forcibly to the officer in charge, but he considered that he would probably do the same thing under the same circumstances. the lieutenant believed him to be a rebel, and as such his treatment was harsh and impolite, and after debating the matter in his mind he came to the conclusion that he was not much to blame after all. he was desirous, however, of communicating with some one who could intercede for him, and by that means secure his release, and he resolved to make friends with his jailer as the best possible way of obtaining what he wanted. shortly after he had been incarcerated, he heard the voices of sam sloan and john earl, who had been informed of his arrest and had come to see him. their request was denied, however, and they expressed themselves in very loud tones against the injustice they were compelled to submit to. all to no avail, however, and they reluctantly took their leave. the turnkey coming along the corridor at this time, webster called to him, and requested his attention for a few moments. the man was about sixty years of age, and had a very benignant countenance, which webster argued was a good omen for the work of propitiation which he had in hand. "will you tell the lieutenant that i would like to speak with him," asked webster. "it's no use," said the old man, with a shake of the head; "the lieutenant says he won't have anything to say to you, until your case is reported to headquarters this evening." "well, then," smiled webster, "i suppose i will have to wait his pleasure; but can't a fellow get a little whisky and cigar? i'll make it worth your while if you can help me in that particular." the old man laughed, and said he would see what could be done, as webster slipped a bill into his hand. he disappeared, and after about a half hour, he returned and slipped a small bundle through the grated door, admonishing webster to be careful about exposing himself to the other prisoners within view. "all right," said webster, "you keep the change, old man, for your trouble." in the afternoon another officer, accompanied by four men, came to his cell, and requested his appearance at the office. here he was carefully searched, and upon his person were found some letters addressed to himself; a pass from col. cramp, and about seventy dollars in money. they were about to take these from him, when webster inquired: "who was the man who arrested me this morning?" "his name is mcphail, and he belongs to the secret service," was the reply. at the mention of the name, webster started in surprise. he had heard of him as connected with my force, and knew that everything would soon be all right. "well," said webster, "will you be kind enough to send for mr. mcphail, and ask him to telegraph to major allen, and inquire if tim is all right?" "what major allen is that?" asked the officer. "of the secret service," replied webster. "mcphail will know all about him; and you will learn that i am no rebel, in a very short time." "we will do what you request," said the officer, "and if you are all right, we will be glad to find it out." thanking the officer for his kindness, webster was conducted back to his cell to await developments. about ten o'clock that night, the officer again made his appearance. "john hart, come here." webster presented himself before the iron grating of his cell. "is your name john hart?" "no, sir, my name is timothy webster." "well, my orders are for a man named hart, who is to be taken to fort mchenry." [illustration: "_webster leaped from the wagon while it was in motion._" p. .] something in the tone of the man's voice, and in the twinkle of his eye, told webster that everything was understood, so he answered at once: "very well, i am the man!" "come with me, then." they conducted him to the street, where he saw a covered wagon in waiting. they all got in and then in a loud voice the officer gave the order: "drive direct to fort mchenry pier!" after they had started, the officer explained to webster that it had been arranged, in order to prevent suspicion, that he should be allowed to jump from the wagon as it was driven along, and after a pretended pursuit, he would make his escape to his rebel friends with whom he should remain quietly for a few days, and then return to washington and report to me. these directions he implicitly followed; and seizing a favorable opportunity, he leaped from the wagon and rapidly made his way in the direction of the city. going directly to sam sloan's, he knocked loudly at the door. after a few minutes a window was raised and a voice inquired angrily: "who are you, and what do you want?" "it is i--webster--sam, come down and open the door." the window was shut, with an oath of joyful surprise, and in a twinkling, the door was opened, and sloan pulled webster into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. "great g--d, webster, how did you manage to get away from the yanks?" "let me get warm, and i'll tell you," replied webster, with a laugh. "come up stairs," said sloan heartily, "and we'll have something to drink." after refreshing themselves, webster related the manner of his escape, carefully concealing the action of the officer, and the fact that he had been peaceably permitted to leave the vehicle--and when he had concluded, sloan's admiration was unbounded. promising to secrete him until he could safely get away, they all went to bed, and slept soundly. early the next morning sloan left the house, and after an absence of an hour or two returned, bringing with him several of webster's trusty friends, among whom was john earl, who was decidedly crestfallen at the thought of having been instrumental in leading webster into such danger by introducing the strange man to him, without learning more about his character for loyalty to the cause. they were all overjoyed at his escape, and spent the afternoon in a jollification over his safe return. the newspapers contained full particulars of the affair, and when they were brought before him webster could not restrain his laughter at their contents, as he read: "escape of a state prisoner.[a] "it was rumored yesterday that the man webster, who was arrested, stopping at the hotel of messrs. mcgee, upon the charge of being concerned in the regular transportation of letters between baltimore and the seceded states, had succeeded in making his escape. it is learned upon the best authority that during a late hour of the night he was removed from the western police station and placed in a carriage under the charge of a special detective officer. the wagon was driven towards fort mchenry, he having been previously ordered to that post, but while the vehicle was in motion, and when within a short distance of their destination, he gave a sudden bound from his seat, and before the officer could seize him, he was beyond his grasp. it is not known which direction he took, but he will scarcely be able to escape from the city. he is a citizen of kentucky, but left there in the early part of april, and since that time has been residing in baltimore." in another paper he read: [b]"we have learned from an entirely reliable source that mr. webster was arrested in endeavoring to procure replies to a number of letters which he had delivered from marylanders now residing in virginia to friends at home. a fact which, in view of the hazards of such an attempt, should content the unfortunate exiles from maryland with the gratification of communication with their friends there and without the reciprocal joy of hearing from the latter in return. we have reason to believe that webster is beyond the reach of the yankees." remaining with his friends until after midnight on the second day, he made his way to the train, and at . in the morning started for washington, where he arrived about seven o'clock, and reported at my headquarters. it may seem strange that webster was arrested by one of my men, and that my intervention was necessary to effect his release, but a few words will serve as an explanation. mcphail, the operative who had caused webster's arrest, had never seen that gentleman, and was entirely ignorant of his true character. under such circumstances he very naturally was led to suspect him as a rebel spy, and to lay the trap for his capture. the delicate and important duties which had been assigned to webster were such, that i deemed it advisable to inform but very few of my men of his immediate connection with me, hence the arrest, as far as mcphail was concerned, was a _bona fide_ revelation of what he believed to be a dangerous crime. as it was, the arrest did no harm, but rather enabled webster to cement more closely the bonds of friendship which existed between himself and those with whom he had previously associated. footnotes: [a] the above is from the _baltimore american_ of november , . [b] the above is taken from the _gazette_ of november , . chapter xxii. _webster and scobell.--a negro as a spy.--a traitor deserts from the army.--he carries dispatches to the rebels, which fail of their destination.--an attack in the woods.--"the loyal league."--slaves as patriots._ on the first day of november, , general mcclellan was made the commander-in-chief of all the armies of the united states. immediately on assuming this important position, the general turned his attention to the entire field of operations, regarding the army of the potomac as a branch, though the most important one, of the armies under his command. reliable information regarding the location and strength of the enemy was the most desirable thing to be obtained at present, and although webster had been performing giant labor in this direction, his operations comprised but a minor portion of the work that devolved upon me. numerous men of various callings and abilities were traveling through the south, gathering items of news wherever possible, and reporting the same as accurately and as rapidly as they were enabled to do so. so numerous were the methods which i employed in promoting the successful operations of the secret service, that it is possible within the limits of the present volume to enumerate but very few of the many events which occurred. among the many men thus employed, was a negro by the name of john scobell, and the manner in which his duties were performed, was always a source of satisfaction to me and apparently of gratification to himself. from the commencement of the war, i had found the negroes of invaluable assistance, and i never hesitated to employ them when, after investigation, i found them to be intelligent and trustworthy. as i have previously stated, all refugees, deserters and contrabands coming through our lines were turned over to me for a thorough examination and for such future disposition as i should recommend. john scobell came to me in this manner. one morning i was seated in my quarters, preparing for the business of the day, when the officer of the guard announced the appearance of a number of contrabands. ordering them to be brought in, the pumping process was commenced, and before noon many stray pieces of information had been gathered, which, by accumulation of evidence, were highly valuable. among the number i had especially noticed the young man who had given his name as john scobell. he had a manly and intelligent bearing, and his straightforward answers to the many questions propounded to him, at once impressed me very favorably. he informed me that he had formerly been a slave in the state of mississippi, but had journeyed to virginia with his master, whose name he bore. his master was a scotchman, and but a few weeks before had given him and his wife their freedom. the young woman had obtained employment in richmond, while he had made his way to the union lines, where, encountering the federal pickets, he had been brought to headquarters, and thence to me. he gave an intelligent account of his travels through the country, and appeared to be well informed as to the localities through which he passed, and of the roads and streams round about. i immediately decided to attach him to my headquarters, with the view of eventually using him in the capacity of a scout, should he prove equal to the task. for two weeks i employed him in various capacities of minor importance, but those in which secrecy and loyalty were essential qualifications, and his performance of these duties was all that could be desired. at the end of that time i resolved to send him into the south, and test his ability for active duty. calling him into my quarters, i gave him the necessary directions, and dispatched him, in company with timothy webster, on a trip to virginia. their line of travel was laid out through centreville, manassas, dumfries, and the upper and lower accoquan. john scobell i found was a remarkably gifted man for one of his race. he could read and write, and was as full of music as the feathered songsters that warbled in the tropical groves of his own sunny home. in addition to what seemed an almost inexhaustible stock of negro plantation melodies he had also a charming variety of scotch ballads, which he sang with a voice of remarkable power and sweetness. during the evenings his singing was the chief feature of the impromptu entertainments that were resorted to in order to while away the tedious hours before retiring, and he soon became a universal favorite. possessing the talents which he did, i felt sure, that he had only to assume the character of the light-hearted, happy darky and no one would suspect the cool-headed, vigilant detective, in the rollicking negro whose only aim in life appeared to be to get enough to eat, and a comfortable place to toast his shins. it was arranged that the two men should travel together until they arrived at leonardstown, when they were to separate, webster proceeding on to richmond by way of fredericksburg, while scobell was to make his way to the rebel camp at dumfries, and then up as far as centreville. proceeding by stage to leonardstown they parted company, each one depending upon his own exertions to get across the river. although they had traveled in the same coach, they paid no attention to each other, nor gave any indication of a previous acquaintance. at leonardstown webster went to a hotel, kept by a mr. miller, who was a bitter secessionist, and had known my operative for some time. his greeting was cordial, and his enthusiasm over his escape from the officers at baltimore, an account of which he had read in the paper, was quite overpowering. while they were conversing together a tall, dark-whiskered man came into the room, and after a quick, nervous glance at webster, requested to see the land lord in another room. as they departed, webster bestowed a searching look upon the new-comer and was at once impressed with the familiarity of his features. he recollected that while he was coming down on the stage, this man came riding rapidly behind them, seated in a buggy and driven by a young negro. they made several ineffectual attempts to pass the stage, and finally succeeded in doing so, and disappearing from view. webster had forgotten all about him, until his sudden appearance at the hotel and his suspicious actions attracted his attention. after the lapse of a few minutes the two men again entered, and the stranger immediately took his departure. filled with curiosity as to the identity of the man, webster carelessly observed to the landlord: "that fellow seemed a little nervous, doesn't he?" "yes," replied the landlord, "and he has cause to be; he is a deserter from the yanks." "was he an officer?" "he says he was a surgeon, and had served in the regular army on the pacific coast for a number of years. his family are southerners, and he says he concluded to throw up his commission and join our side." "which way is he going?" "he wants to get to richmond as soon as he can. he will be back shortly and i'll introduce you to him; perhaps you can give him a helping hand." "i'll do what i can," replied webster, with a mental reservation. "what is his name?" "he gave me his name as doctor gurley: he brought a letter from a friend of mine in washington, and i believe he is carrying some messages to mr. benjamin, the secretary of war, which he is very anxious to deliver as early as possible." "well, we may be fellow-travelers if he turns up in time to go over with me," said webster, who was already attempting to devise some plan for intercepting the delivery of the dispatches which the titled deserter was carrying. "i have made all arrangements," replied the landlord, "and will send you both down to-morrow in time to get the boat." "all right," said webster; "and now, as i have a little time before dinner, i will take a short walk to give me an appetite." webster was intent upon finding john scobell, if possible. he had formed a plan for getting possession of the dispatches, and he required the services of his colored companion in order to perfect it. keeping a sharp look-out about him, he strode on in the direction of the negro quarters, where he felt reasonably sure of meeting with the man he was in search of. as chance would have it, when within a short distance of the locality, he saw, to his intense delight, scobell approaching him from the opposite direction. in a few words, he developed his plan to the intelligent darky, and from the broad grin which overspread his countenance, it was evident that he not only fully understood, but highly relished, the propositions that had been made. it was arranged, that scobell should be in the neighborhood of the hotel during the afternoon, and that webster should endeavor to point out to him the deserting surgeon, after which scobell was to perform the duty which webster had delegated to him. that afternoon, the doctor, who was stopping with some friends, a short distance out of town, made his appearance at the hotel, and mr. miller, having first assured him of my operative's loyalty, introduced the two men to each other. by reason of webster's familiarity with the country, and his evident and hearty desire to serve his new-found friend, he soon won the kindly regards of the doctor, who prolonged his visit until nearly dark. at length, promising to meet webster on the morrow, and with a parting beverage, the doctor started to go. webster accompanied him to the door, and with apparent good-feeling, bade him good-evening. as webster re-entered the hotel, he noticed with satisfaction that scobell was on hand, and had posted himself in a secluded position, where, unobserved himself, he could watch the hotel, and notice what transpired. "there is going to be a shower, and the doctor will have to walk fast to escape it," said webster, as he entered the bar-room. he had been engaged in friendly conversation with mr. miller for about an hour, when they heard the hurried stamping of feet outside; in a few moments, the door was thrown suddenly open, and the deserting doctor stood before them. the appearance of the doctor was most rueful. he was without his hat; his clothing was disarranged, and torn and soiled; his face was of a death-like paleness, while his lips trembled as if with fear. webster and the landlord sprang to their feet, and rushed toward the man, who was very near falling from exhaustion. "what has happened!" inquired webster, in a tone of solicitude. "i've been attacked and robbed!" ejaculated the doctor, weakly. the landlord poured out a glass of spirits, which he gave to the demoralized doctor, and after swallowing it, he seemed to regain his strength. after he had been sufficiently restored, he related his story. after leaving the hotel, he had started to walk toward the house where he was stopping. it becoming quite cloudy, and fearing a storm, he had hastened his pace in order to avoid the rain. suddenly, as he was passing through a small patch of woods, he was stealthily approached from behind, by some one, who struck him a fearful blow on the back of the head. he was completely stunned and fell to the ground. when he recovered consciousness, he found that he had been thoroughly searched, and that his dispatches to the secretary of war had been taken. nothing else about his person was disturbed, and the attack had evidently been made by somebody who was aware of the fact that he had them in his possession. the doctor's anxiety about his loss was pitiable in the extreme, but webster could scarcely repress a smile of satisfaction, at the success which scobell had achieved in capturing the precious documents. "never mind," said webster, soothingly. "the loss of the papers won't amount to much; when we arrive in richmond you can communicate verbally the nature of the papers you have lost." "that's the devil of it," blurted out the doctor. "i don't know their contents; they were intrusted to me by men who are working in the interest of the south, and as they were sealed, i have no more idea than you have what they contained." this piece of information was an additional source of satisfaction to webster, who had thus effectually prevented their transmission to the rebel government. he sympathized with the doctor, however, most sincerely, and although that individual was decidedly crestfallen at the turn of affairs, under webster's ministrations he recovered some of his spirits, and finding that he was not seriously injured, he again started for his lodgings. he took the precaution, this time, to carry his revolver in his hand, and to keep a sharp look-out as he journeyed along. miller, the landlord, was somewhat alarmed at this adventure, but webster endeavored to reassure him as best he could. he suggested that the attack was probably made by some one who was in the interest of the south, but who was fearful that, as the doctor had deserted from the northern army, he might not be as true to the good cause as he should be. however this may be, miller's fears soon disappeared, and by nine o'clock he had recovered his usual good-humor, and set about making his arrangements for the morrow. feeling anxious to learn from scobell, webster lighted a cigar and strolled out into the street. he walked slowly along, and after he had gone some distance from the hotel he turned around, and saw following him, at some distance behind, a figure which he instantly recognized as scobell's. he therefore went on until he came to the outskirts of the town, and then awaited the arrival of his companion. scobell came up with a broad grin on his countenance, and extending his hand, said: "here dey is, mister webster. dey is all right, an' i reckon de doctor don't know what hurt him by dis time." webster took the packet from the outstretched hand of the black man, and complimented him warmly upon his success. scobell seemed quite elated over his exploit, and it was with some difficulty that webster could restrain him from breaking out into loud laughter. scobell informed webster that he had already made arrangements for forwarding the documents to me, provided they met with the approval of the scout. he suggested that they be intrusted to an intelligent and loyal colored man, who was to start for washington on the following morning, and whose honor and truthfulness could be implicitly relied upon. "i should like to see this man first," said webster, when scobell had concluded. "werry well; cum along of me," answered scobell. "i'll show you sumfin you neber seed afore, i reckon." "go ahead, then," directed the scout. proceeding together a short distance, when the black stopped before a dilapidated building that had evidently not been used for some time. it was a low, two-story structure, the windows of which were boarded up, and no sign of life was visible from without. "come this way," said scobell, in a low voice, taking webster by the hand and through a low door, on which he rapped three times. webster had scarcely time to give vent to his astonishment by a low whistle, when the door was noiselessly opened. they entered without challenge and found themselves in utter darkness, while webster could hear the bolts and bars being replaced upon the door. listening intently, he thought he could hear voices overhead, and a noise as of the shuffling of feet. presently he heard a shrill whistle from his conductor, which was replied to from above with the query: "who comes?" "friends of uncle abe!" was the reply. "what do you desire?" "light and liberty!" came the response. immediately a trap-door overhead was opened, revealing a dimly-lighted room, and a rope-ladder was let down before them. "mister webster, you go up first," said scobell, "and i will follow you." webster took hold of the ropes and, ascending easily, found himself in a dimly lighted room and surrounded by a body of negroes, numbering about forty. some of them were young men who had barely attained their majority, while others were middle-aged, with a goodly number whose heads were as white as snow. the room in which they were assembled was quite large and entirely destitute of furniture. an upturned barrel, with an american flag draped over it, served as the desk of the president, and his seat was made of a box, which had once been used in packing merchandise for shipment. it was not long before webster realized that he was in a lodge of "the loyal league," composed almost exclusively of colored men, and whose branches extended over the entire south. the trap-door being closed behind them, webster was introduced to the assembly by john scobell, who had already identified himself with the institution. his welcome was most cordial and hearty. shortly after they had become quiet, the president, a tall, well-formed negro, about thirty-five years of age, took his position, and in a deep, full voice, addressed the meeting. he detailed the operations of the various lodges which he had visited, and gave an encouraging account of the good work that was being done by the colored men throughout the country. he was listened to intently, and when he had finished he was greeted with numerous remarks of approval and indorsement. scobell had meanwhile disclosed the nature and objects of the "loyal league." although as yet prevented from taking up arms in defense of their rights, these colored men had banded themselves together to further the cause of freedom, to succor the escaping slave, and to furnish information to loyal commanders of the movements of the rebels, as far as they could be ascertained. the president of the league, scobell said, was about undertaking a trip to washington, and he was the person who had been selected to carry the packet to me. webster conversed with him for some time after he had spoken, and finding him reliable and willing to undertake the task about to be imposed upon him, he signified his willingness to trust him with the delivery of the dispatches. writing a hasty description of the manner in which they had been obtained, he safely sewed the package and his letter in the lining of the messenger's coat, and fully instructed him as to how the papers should be delivered. webster was called upon before the meeting adjourned, and he replied in a few words of encouragement and compliment, which elicited the most sincere tokens of appreciation from his sable auditors. after thanking the colored men for their kindness to him, webster and scobell descended from the improvised lodge-room, and webster made his way back to the hotel, feeling quite relieved as to the safety of the dispatches, and fully confident that they would reach their destination in safety. he shortly afterwards retired to rest, fully satisfied with the day's work, and slept soundly until morning. the trusty messenger arrived in washington in due time, and i received from his hands the papers intrusted to him. they were of a highly important nature, and conveyed information to the rebel authorities which would have been very dangerous had they reached their legitimate destination. as it was, through webster's sagacity, scobell's physical power, and the exertions of the president of the "loyal league," the traitor surgeon was prevented from assisting the cause of treason and rebellion, and as a bearer of dispatches, his first venture was far from being successful. [illustration: a hot chase.] chapter xxiii. _a negro spy.--passage on a steam packet.--lyrical melodies.--scobell deserts the ship.--his tramps through rebeldom._ the next afternoon, webster and doctor gurley started for their point of debarkation. the medical deserter was exceedingly downcast about the loss of valuable papers, although he had entirely recovered from the physical effects of his attack. he indulged in curses, loud and deep, upon the perpetrator of the theft, and speculated with grave seriousness as to the effect of their loss. webster, who felt that he could be liberal in dealing out his sympathy, was profuse in his expressions of regret and condolence, though i am afraid, that an observer who was acquainted with the facts of the case, would have detected a sly twinkle of merriment in his eyes, that belied his words. they were driven to a farm-house, situated on a little creek that ran in from the bay, where they were met by a man named james gough, to whom webster had a letter of introduction from mr. miller at the hotel. after reading the letter, mr. gough invited the travelers to enter, and informed them that the boat would attempt to cross the bay that night, if the weather would permit. after partaking of a bountiful supper, the party repaired to the landing, and although there were indications of a storm, the captain, who was in waiting, determined to make an effort to get across. a large amount of merchandise had already been placed on board, and soon after the arrival of webster and the doctor, who were to be the only passengers, they put off. their trip was made in safety, and by midnight they reached the virginia side. here they went to the house of a mr. woodward, who was a partner with mr. gough, in shipping goods into the rebel country, and who took charge of the cargo that came over with our travelers in the boat. remaining at the house of mr. woodward during the night, on the following morning they went to tappahannock, where they boarded a packet for fredericksburg. here they met a colonel prickett, who was an old acquaintance of doctor gurley, and from the general conversation that ensued, webster obtained material information of the location of the rebel forces. that evening they proceeded to richmond, and webster, parting with his traveling companion, set about delivering some letters which he had brought with him. finding that several of his friends, from whom he had hoped to receive information, were absent from the city, and that it would be impossible to do much good service, he resolved to return to washington. he went to the office of the secretary of war, and, obtaining a pass to norfolk, he returned by that route, taking notes by the wayside, and arrived in washington in due time. john scobell remained in leonardstown a few days after webster's departure, mingling with the colored people of that locality, and posting himself upon several points that would be of benefit to him further on. the desire for freedom, and the expectation that the result of the war would determine that question, had now become universal among the colored men of the south. although as yet debarred from taking up arms in defense of their rights, their efforts in behalf of the northern troops were freely given when opportunity offered, and consequently, scobell made hosts of friends among the black-skinned people, who advised him cheerfully and were profuse in their offers of assistance. during the time that he remained in leonardstown scobell made his home with an old negro who was an active member of the league, and who had conceived a wonderful friendship for my bright and intelligent colored operative. uncle turner, as he was called, was a genuine virginia darky, who, having been reared as a house servant, had been enabled to acquire more than the average amount of intelligence, and obtaining his freedom, had settled himself in leonardstown, where he obtained a livelihood by performing a variety of duties for the people in the town. here, with his aged wife, a fat, good-natured negress, he lived in comparative comfort, and a more thorough abolitionist never existed than was uncle turner. through this old negro, scobell had made arrangements with a young colored man to set him across the river in a skiff, and after spending the day among his new-found friends, and amply provided with a substantial lunch from aunt judy, scobell made his way to the river bank, where he found his man waiting for him, carefully concealed among some bushes that grew along the shore. after remunerating the boatman, and bidding him a hearty farewell, scobell started up the river. his first plan was to walk as far as dumfries, and from that point commence his operations among the rebel camps, but after reflection, he concluded to make his way to the rappahannock, and endeavor to work his way on one of the river boats as far as fredericksburg, which would save him a walk of some fifty miles and materially expedite his journey. he accordingly set out for the river and, walking briskly, he found himself about noon at leestown, a small landing-place on the rappahannock. feeling somewhat fatigued by his long tramp, he remained over night, and early on the following morning repaired to the wharf, where he was in hopes of finding a boat on which he could secure his passage. he had not long to wait, for shortly after his arrival the packet boat "virginia" steamed up to the landing, and soon the men were engaged in putting on board a quantity of miscellaneous freight, that was destined for fredericksburg. finding that there was plenty of work to do, scobell stepped quickly on board and seeking the captain politely asked permission to work his passage. the captain, who was a kind and genial man at heart, although he carefully veiled these characteristics under a rough exterior, and a bluff and impetuous demeanor, listened to the request, and being in want of some extra help, turned to scobell and said: "you black rascal, what do you want at fredericksburg? come now, no lies, or i'll throw you into the river!" "i done tell no lies, massa cap'n," replied scobell, with a broad grin overspreading his face, "but i've bin back in de kentry to see some ob my folks dar, and i dun got no money fur ter git back." "so you want me to take you to fredericksburg, do you?" ejaculated the captain, good-naturedly. "well, go below and tell the cook to put you to work!" scobell was about to express his thanks, when the captain blurted out: "clear out, d--n you! i've no time for talk now." scobell hurried below, and seeking out the cook was soon busily engaged at work; before he had been very long employed he made a friend of his sable instructor, and was as merry as a cricket. the run to fredericksburg was about twelve hours, but owing to shoal water they were obliged to stop at coulter's wharf to wait for the rising of the tide. in the evening the negro hands gathered on the deck around the smoke-stack, and with the stars twinkling overhead, they made the shores ring with their mirthful melodies. among the party was an old negro, who had spent almost his entire life upon the river, and who was an excellent performer on the banjo, and he accompanied the singers with his instrument. "nelly gray," "bob ridley," "way down upon de swanee river," and a host of the most popular songs of the day were rendered in a style that elicited the heartiest applause from the delighted passengers. the climax of enjoyment was reached, however, when my scobell, in his splendid baritone, and accompanied by the old negro and his banjo, sang that sweet old scottish ballad: "maxwelton's braes are bonny, where early fa's the dew." the applause which greeted him upon its conclusion was most hearty and enthusiastic, and when he gave them "a man's a man for a' that," the passengers crowded around him and began to ply him with eager questions as to his knowledge of the music of the beloved bard of scotia. the idea of a darky singing scotch ballads, and with such true emotional pathos and sweetness, was such a novelty to them that all were anxious to learn where he had heard them. scobell briefly and modestly informed them that he had been raised by a gentleman who was a native of scotland, who was himself a good singer, and that his master had taught him the music he loved so well. the captain, who was also a scotchman, and who had listened to the melodies with the tears trickling over his rubicund nose, now stepped forward and said heartily: "look here, young fellow, i need an extra man on this boat, and i'll give you forty dollars a month to work for me. the work is light--now what do you say?" here was a dilemma entirely unexpected. scobell had not only sung himself into the good graces of the passengers, but of the rough old captain also. it was plain that this offer came from the very heart of the old salt, who was as deeply touched by the melodies as was any one else, and he wanted to secure scobell's services as much for the songs he could sing as for the work he could do. scobell bowed his thanks to the captain, and said: "i'm werry much obliged to yer cap'n; i'se bin lookin' fur a job ebber since i left ole mississippi, an' i'll do my best to please you, sure." "all right," replied the captain. "it's time to turn in now, so go below and tell the mate to take your time; your pay will commence from to-day." [illustration: "_the work isn't hard. now, what do you say._" p. .] all hands went below, where scobell duly reported to the mate, a bunk was assigned to him and he was made one of the crew of the steam-packet "virginia." this was a rather different turn of affairs than he had expected, but he had done the best he could under the circumstances, and regretting that he was compelled to deceive the honest old captain, he turned in for the night and slept soundly. when he awoke the next morning, the boat was in motion, and he knew that he was on his way to fredericksburg. how to get away was the next question to be decided, but he resolved to await the operation of events and adopt any chance that afforded for getting away. in due time the boat landed at her destination and soon all was bustle and confusion in discharging the freight. scobell assisted manfully in landing the cargo, and earned the encomiums of the captain for his diligent labor. learning that the boat would not start on her return trip until the next morning, he requested permission to go on shore until they were prepared to start. this was readily granted by the unsuspecting and really good-natured captain, who also gave him a small sum of money to defray his expenses, and cautioned him to report on time or the boat would start without him. scobell promised to be punctual, and then took his leave. it is not necessary to state that the "virginia" on her down trip went without the ballad-singing negro, for by the time she was ready to put off, he was on his way to dumfries and the accoquan. carefully noting everything that came in his way he traveled through dumfries, accoquan, manassas and centreville, and after spending nearly ten days in these localities he finally made his way to leesburg, and thence down the potomac to washington. his experiences on this trip were quite numerous and varied, and only a lack of space prevents their narration. sometimes, as a vender of delicacies through the camps, a laborer on the earthworks at manassas, or a cook at centreville, he made his way uninterruptedly until he obtained the desired information and successfully accomplished the object of his mission. his return to washington was accomplished in safety and his full and concise report fully justified me in the selection i had made of a good, reliable and intelligent operative. chapter xxiv. _a perilous ride.--a suspicious peddler.--uncle gallus again.--scobell investigating.--doubts and suspicions._ it was on a beautiful morning in the early part of the month of april, , when a lady, mounted upon a handsome and spirited black horse, and accompanied by a young and intelligent-looking negro, also excellently mounted, rode out of the city of richmond, apparently for the purpose of enjoying a morning ride. provided with the necessary passports, they experienced no difficulty in passing the guards, and after a short ride found themselves in the open country beyond the city. the lady was young, handsome and apparently about twenty-five years of age. her complexion was fresh and rosy as the morning, her hair fell in flowing tresses of gold, while her eyes, which were of a clear and deep blue, were quick and searching in their glances. she appeared careless and entirely at ease, but a close observer would have noticed a compression of the small lips, and a fixedness in the sparkling eyes that told of a purpose to be accomplished, and that her present journey was not wholly one of pleasure. after leaving the city the colored attendant spurred to her side, and then, putting spurs to their horses, they broke into a swift canter. their road lay along the river bank, which here led in a south-easterly direction. turning to the negro at her side, the lady remarked: "now, john, we have a ride of ten miles before us, and we must be at glendale as early as possible." "all right, missus," rejoined her sable companion, "dese hosses will take us through in good shape, i know." they followed the course of the stream, whose waters glistened in the rays of the morning's sun like polished silver. on either side the road was fringed with a growth of cottonwood trees, that cast a grateful shade along their path, while the cool breezes of the rippling river rendered their ride a most delightful one indeed. but as they sped along the most casual observer would have noticed from the expression of their faces that their ride was being undertaken for other purposes than pleasure. the riders pressed on, scarcely slackening their speed until in the near distance could be seen the tall spire of the single church in the pleasant little village of glendale. they now drew rein and brought their smoking steeds to a slow walk, and riding leisurely onward, they stopped before a neat little inn located on the outskirts of the town. an old, white-headed negro took their horses and led them away, while the landlady, a neat and tidy-looking matron, wearing widow's weeds, met the lady at the door, and cordially welcomed her into the house. "here, jennie," she called to her daughter, a trim little girl of twelve years, "show this lady to her room." following the little girl, the lady was conducted into a cool and pleasant little parlor, with windows opening upon the garden, and through which came the fragrant breath of roses in full bloom. scobell accompanied the old man with the horses into the stable-yard, where he assisted in caring for the heated animals. "i dun spose you's on de way to yu'ktown?" queried the old darky, who was rubbing vigorously away upon the limbs of the glossy black horse. after waiting a short time, and hearing no response, he added: "what'd you say? dis yer hoss is fidgettin' aroun' so i didn't har you." "i didn't say anything," responded his companion good-naturedly, but in a tone that plainly indicated his intention not to submit himself to the pumping process at the hands of his garrulous friend. "i tought you hearn what i dun axed you," replied the old man, a little taken aback by the cool demeanor of his new acquaintance. scobell, however, industriously worked away at his own horse and said nothing. "well," said the old darky after another pause, and apparently communing with himself--"it am a fac' dat now an den you meets people dat ain't got de cibbleness to answer a question--nor de grit to tell a feller 'tain't nun o' his business; but dey jes let on like dey didn't har wat you sed--wen all de time dey kin har jes as well as i kin." still there was no satisfactory response, and at last the old man blurted out again: "now i dun spec' it am nun ob uncle gallus's bizness were dese folks am a goin', but jemima! i didn't tink it any harm to ax. folks dat knows uncle gallus aint afeared tu tell him nuffin, coz dey knows he dun got a mitey close head when it am needcessary." the old man was none other than the veritable old uncle gallus, whose experience in the south seemed to be very different from the easy life he had led as the house servant of mrs. morton. how he came into this position i am unable to say, but here he was, and the same smile of good-nature irradiated his face, as when his way of life was pleasant, and his duties lighter. perhaps, it would be as well to state here, that the two persons already mentioned were mrs. carrie lawton, a female operative on my force, and john scobell, who has figured before in these pages. these two persons had been for a time employed in richmond, and were now endeavoring to effect their journey north. after finishing the last remark, uncle gallus straightened himself up and stood erect, with the air of a man who had been unjustly injured, and who was disposed to vindicate himself now and there. "i tell you, uncle," finally replied scobell, "there are times when one must be careful what you say, and who you say it to." "dat am a fac'!" ejaculated the old man. "now, if i knowed you was all right," scobell continued, "i might talk, but 'tain't smart to tell your business to strangers." "dat am a fac', young man," observed uncle gallus, shaking his head with a knowing look; "but den i spose you's a friend to uncle abe, ain't you now?" he queried. "and if i am," said scobell, "what do you want?" "light and liberty," replied the old man impressively, "and fo' de l'ud i b'lieve de day am nigh when it am a comin'." at these words, scobell stepped forward and said in a low voice: "do you belong to the league?" "i does," answered uncle gallus; "i dun jined it in dis berry place." "how often do you meet?" inquired scobell. "we meets ebery two weeks, down at uncle dicky bassett's--he libs on de bluff ob de ribber 'bout a mile furder down de road to'rds wilson's landin'." "how far is it to wilson's landing?" asked scobell, who, finding that uncle gallus was a member of the league, was now no longer loth to talk with him. "a little grain de rise ob twenty mile," replied the old man. "about sundown, then," said scobell, "these horses must be saddled and ready for the missus and me, for we must be at the landing before midnight." "all right," rejoined uncle gallus, "dey'll be ready when yu want 'em." "see heah now, is yure name john?" suddenly asked the old man, as if an idea had just occurred to him. "yes, that's what they call me." "an' you cum frum richmun' dis mo'nin?" scobell nodded. "an' dat young leddy am gwine to meet somebody, mebbe her husband, at de landin'?" "yes," said scobell; "but how do you know these things? has anybody been here to see you?" "yah! yah!" chuckled the old man. "i dun tole you dat folks as knowed uncle gallus dun often come ter see him. i dun knowed you all de time, when you fust come--in fac', i was 'spectin' you and de missus all de mawnin'." "was the landlady looking for us too?" inquired scobell. "she knowed you was a comin'," replied uncle gallus; "dah was a gem'man heah las' night, as talked about you to her, an' lef' a note fur de lady." "is the landlady all right?" asked scobell. "true to de core," affirmed uncle gallus emphatically; "more'n one poor feller as 'scaped from richmun' hes foun' a good bed an' supper at de 'glen house.'" "well," said my operative, "you can finish your work here; i have an errand or two for the missus, and i must go and attend to them before dinner." so saying, he started for the house, leaving uncle gallus to water and feed the horses, which had now sufficiently cooled, and were enjoying their needed rest. scobell's errand was simply to take a stroll about the village in order to ascertain whether there was any indication of their having been followed by anyone from richmond. he strolled about the village, noting carefully every one whom he met, and, feeling comparatively secure, started to return to the hotel. turning the corner of a street he came suddenly face to face with a peddler, who addressed him in a rich irish brogue and inquired the way to the tavern. scobell gave him the required information and stood watching the fellow as he ambled off in the direction indicated. there was something in the appearance of this man that attracted the attention and excited the suspicions of my observant operative. he resolved to keep an eye upon his movements and endeavor to discover, if possible, whether the man was a genuine peddler, or a spy, who had adopted that disguise to conceal his true character. in the few words that passed between them scobell had noticed that while the man's hair was a fiery red his eyebrows and lashes appeared of a dark brown color, and his face was altogether of too florid a hue to be natural. these observations were sufficient to put scobell upon the alert at once, and convinced him that the man was not what he appeared to be. following slowly he watched him until he reached the hotel and entered the bar-room, where, laying aside his pack, he ordered his dinner. scobell entered the room immediately behind him, and passing through it, he made his way to the kitchen, where the landlady was superintending the preparations for a most savory dinner. calling her aside, he informed her of the peddler's arrival and of his suspicions regarding him, cautioning her to convey the news to his missus before they met at the table. in a few minutes dinner was announced, and the boarders, to the number of fifteen, including mrs. lawton and the peddler, with the landlady at the head, gathered around the long table in the low, old-fashioned dining-room. the lively clatter of the knives and forks soon attested the vigor with which they attacked the viands set before them. the peddler ate his meal in silence, undisturbed by the general conversation going on around him, and mrs. lawton noticed that he was keenly watching her whenever an opportunity occurred to do so, as he thought, unobserved. she, however, affected entire unconsciousness of the scrutiny she was subjected to, and kept up an animated conversation with the landlady upon various trivial topics until the meal was finished. scobell, who temporarily acted as an attendant at the table, lost no opportunity to carefully watch the movements of the peddler, and his searching glances, directed towards mrs. lawton, fully convinced him that his previous suspicions were well founded. mrs. lawton returned to her room, not a little disturbed at the peddler's strange behavior, and having no doubt that the stranger was a spy, she determined to discover if she was the object of his visit, or whether his appearance bore any relation to her presence at the hotel. she accordingly sent for scobell, and together they decided that he should carefully watch the movements of the peddler, and if nothing of a suspicious nature transpired, they would renew their journey after nightfall. scobell immediately left the room, and as he entered the bar-room he noticed that the peddler was settling his score, preparatory to taking his departure. he remarked to the landlady, with the same rich brogue which scobell had observed, that business was dull, and that he would have to walk to richmond. "all right, my fine fellow," muttered my operative, "we'll see whether you are going to richmond or not." the peddler lighted a short-stemmed clay pipe, and swinging his pack over his shoulder, set off at a rapid pace on the road to richmond. scobell hastened to the stable and, procuring a pole and line that he had observed there in the morning, started off in the direction which the peddler had taken, but taking a shorter cut to the river, which would enable him to reach the road about a mile below the village and in advance of the peddler. sauntering along until he had gained the shelter of a belt of timber to his left, he then increased his pace until he was almost abreast of the peddler, though entirely concealed from view. he was now satisfied that with a little effort he could keep his man in sight, and he concluded not to pass him, as he had at first intended, but to follow him until he saw him on his way to the rebel capital. when they were about three miles from the village, the peddler suddenly left the road and turned into the woods, leading directly to the banks of the river, which at this point were remarkably high and steep. this movement was entirely unexpected by my operative, and his only recourse was to drop hastily behind a tree to prevent being seen. he was not discovered, however, although the peddler, after entering the timber, gazed carefully around him, as if to see whether he was being followed. apparently satisfied with his survey he resumed his walk, in happy ignorance of the fact that a pair of gleaming eyes were not far distant, noting his every movement. waiting until he had gone a sufficient distance to render it safe, scobell rose slowly from the ground and stealthily followed his footsteps until the peddler paused at the edge of the bluff, which ran down into the river. here he tightened the strap of his pack, and after another hasty glance behind him, he began the descent of the bluff, with the aid of the stout stick which he carried with him. the bank was almost perpendicular, and was covered with a heavy undergrowth of young timber and brush, which made the journey rather a hazardous undertaking. "wonder if he's going to swim to richmond with that pack on his shoulders," said scobell to himself, as he wonderingly watched these strange movements of the peddler. fully determined to see the end of this mysterious maneuver, but recognizing the necessity of exercising the utmost caution in his advance, scobell slowly and noiselessly made his way to the spot where the peddler had vanished as completely from his view as if he had sunk into the bowels of the earth. advancing to within a few feet of the edge of the bluff, he threw himself upon his hands and knees, and drew himself forward until he could overlook the steep descent. he could see nothing of the peddler, however, for the dense growth of bushes completely obstructed his view, but he could readily discern the marks of footprints in the soft soil, which had been made by him in his descent to the bottom. here was a dilemma. he had lost his man, and he dared not follow directly after him, as the peddler might be lying in ambush, and an encounter might be fatal. after a few moments' consideration, he concluded to walk along the bluff a short distance and endeavor to find another path by which he might descend, and thus avoid the peddler, if he was waiting to surprise him. about a hundred yards further on he came upon a well-beaten path, and here he began his descent. everything was as quiet as the grave around him, and he reached the base of the cliff in safety, but without seeing anything of the man he was after. passing up along the lane by the river a short distance, he discovered a narrow path leading in the direction which the peddler had taken, and showing the mark of recent footprints. passing cautiously along this path a short distance, he saw that the high bluffs were gradually giving to more level banks, and that a little further on the stream made a sharp detour to the right, and swept out into the open and level country. in the bend of the river, and on the same side, he noticed a small cabin, half hidden by a clump of trees. surmising that the peddler had entered this cabin, he resolved to hide himself and watch for a few minutes, hoping that the man would soon make his appearance. he had scarcely taken a position where he could unobservedly note all that was going on, when a man, whom he at once recognized as the peddler, made his appearance at the door, and stood anxiously gazing around, as though expecting some one. he still maintained his disguise, and appeared to be alone. returning into the cabin, and after a few minutes, to the surprise of scobell, another individual made his appearance. this new-comer, while about the same size as the peddler, was a very different-looking person indeed, for instead of the red hair and florid complexion, he noticed that this man had a closely-cropped head of black hair, while his complexion was dark and swarthy. "so there's a pair of you!" thought scobell. the fellow, after apparently satisfying himself that the coast was clear, proceeded to a small stable that stood in the rear of the cabin, and almost on the edge of the river bank. scobell thought he heard the faint whinny of a horse, and shortly afterwards the man, mounted on a dark iron-gray horse, appeared, and made his way over the hill and out into the direction of the river road. it instantly flashed across scobell's mind that this man was no other than his peddler, and without hesitation he approached the cabin and knocked loudly at the door. there was no response, and after a moment's hesitation he lifted the latch and entered. as he had conjectured, the cabin was empty. [illustration: "good-morning."] chapter xxv. _the journey resumed.--a midnight pursuit.--a brave woman.--a deadly encounter.--scobell defends himself.--death of a rebel spy._ while these events were occurring, general mcclellan was advancing up the peninsula towards richmond. yorktown had surrendered, the battle of williamsburg had been fought, and the army was advancing to the chickahominy. mrs. lawton and john scobell had been for some weeks in richmond, during which time they had obtained much important information, mrs. lawton taking the role of a southern lady from corinth, mississippi, and scobell acting as her servant. having determined to leave richmond, they were on their way to join the union forces, which, under general mcclellan, had their headquarters on the chickahominy at a point about ten miles from wilson's landing. here, according to previous arrangement, they were to meet mr. lawton, who was also one of my operatives, and from that point were to proceed to the union camp. the landlady of the glen house was a staunch friend to the federals, and had on more than one occasion rendered valuable service to my operatives, especially to hugh lawton. it was therefore at his suggestion that his wife and scobell adopted the plan they did to leave richmond and to reach our lines. as uncle gallus had stated, a man had stopped at the tavern the night before and had informed mrs. braxton, the landlady, that these parties would take that route from richmond--and had left a note to be delivered to mrs. lawton, which contained instructions of her future line of travel. the trip from glendale was one attended with great risk, as the country, on that side of the river, was filled with the scouts of both armies, and if captured by the rebel scouts or pickets, the chances were that detection would be followed by serious consequences. among my female operatives, however, none were clearer-headed or more resolute than mrs. lawton, who prior to this time had been a most efficient worker and had been remarkably successful on her trips into the lines of the enemy. in each case she had escaped with rare good fortune. when scobell entered the structure which the stranger had left, he found that it comprised but a single room, and immediately proceeded to make a thorough examination of its interior. a small fire-place on one side, which showed no signs of having been recently used, and a number of benches, were scattered about. in the corner of the room he saw the pack and several articles that had been worn by the peddler, which left no further room for doubt in his mind as to the character of the individual he had been watching for so long a time. he accordingly set out for glendale, where he arrived just as the sun was sinking behind the western horizon. he narrated the particulars of his chase to mrs. lawton, who was convinced that the peddler was a rebel spy; but the question was--was he upon their track? did he suspect them? and if so, by what means had he discovered who they were and what their destination was? without attempting to settle these questions, however, they concluded to set out at once for the landing. the horses were brought to the door by uncle gallus, who was closely questioned as to whether a horseman answering the description given by scobell had passed through the village that afternoon, did not remember having seen such a person. believing that possibly the man might really have gone on to richmond they concluded to start that night and hazard the consequences. both of them were well armed and were therefore fully prepared to defend themselves, unless attacked by numbers. they rode swiftly along at the free and sweeping gallop for which the southern saddle-horses are so famous, and feeling quite secure, they conversed pleasantly together on their way. "i guess we will get through all right, notwithstanding our fears to the contrary," said mrs. lawton. "i dunno about that," replied scobell; "we're not through with our journey yet, and there's plenty of time for trouble yet. perhaps we had better walk the horses a spell." "that is a good suggestion," assented mrs. lawton, "we will walk them a mile or two, and then we will be enabled to go the faster." "i tell you, missus," said scobell, "i wish we was at the landin'; somehow i feel that there is yet danger ahead." "what makes you think so?" inquired mrs. lawton. "well, i am afraid that confounded peddler will turn up before we get through." "why, i can manage him myself," laughed mrs. lawton, "and if that is all you fear, we are perfectly safe." "now you're pokin' fun at me, missus; but you'll find that i can fight if i get the chance, and i was thinking more of you than of myself." "well, there's an old saying, john, don't cross a bridge until you reach it; so we won't borrow trouble until it comes." their journey now lay through a richly cultivated district; on either side were fine farms, whose growing crops had not yet been touched by the ravages of war, and the country, under the soft light of the moon presented a scene of rare beauty. away to the left ran the river, now bathed in a flood of silvery light, which, emerging from a belt of woods, pursued its winding way until again lost to view in the woods that were sharply outlined at a distance. to their right the country was broken and hilly, and the landscape presented a rugged and picturesque appearance in marked contrast to the evidences of cultivation upon the other side. the night was soft and balmy, and the silence was only broken by the sound of the horses' hoofs as they slowly trotted along. it seemed difficult to believe that war was abroad in the land, and that even now, while in the enjoyment of apparent safety, danger was lurking on every hand. their horses being now sufficiently rested, they again pressed forward at a rapid pace until they were about five miles from the landing which was their point of destination. there mrs. lawton's husband was to meet her and the balance of the journey, to the union camp would be free from danger, as the federal pickets were posted across the river. they were now approaching a patch of timber, through which they would be compelled to pass, and an instinctive feeling of dread came over both of them as they drew near to it. the trees grew close together, shutting out the light of the moon, and rendering the road extremely dark and gloomy. "just the place for an ambuscade," said mrs. lawton shiveringly; "draw your pistols, john, and be ready in case of attack." scobell silently did as he was directed, and riding close together, they entered the wood. the darkness was so great, that they could distinguish objects but a short distance ahead of them. they passed safely through the wood, however, and as they emerged from the darkness, they congratulated themselves upon their good fortune, and began to think that they were unduly alarming themselves. their comforting reflections were of short duration, however, for scarcely had they left the wood, than they perceived four horsemen approaching them at a swift gallop. what to do now was a question to be decided promptly. to turn and retreat would certainly insure their capture, as the woods were just behind, and they were afraid to travel through them on a run--so they resolved to bravely continue their way, and trust to chance for their safe deliverance, should the new-comers prove to be foes. a few hurried words were exchanged between them, as they arranged that each should select a man and fire on the instant they were challenged, and then they were to dash ahead, hoping by this bold and unexpected move to disconcert their assailants by killing or disabling two of their number, and thus effect their escape. as the advancing party came closer, they divided, two going on each side of the road, leaving a space between them for our travelers to pass through. they were now close enough for my operatives to discover that two of them wore the uniform of confederate gray, with heavy sabres at their sides, while the others were apparently in citizens' clothes. scobell, who had been intently regarding them, now exclaimed: "'fore god, missus, that one on your side is the peddler!" he had scarcely uttered these words, when one of the men called out: "halt, and throw up your hands!" they were now nearly face to face with each other, and in a flash two sharp reports rang out on the still night air, and two of the men reeled and fell from their saddles. "at 'em!" hissed scobell, through his clenched teeth, as he plunged the spurs into his steed. the two animals sprang forward, like arrows from the string, and in a moment they had dashed past the others, who seemed dazed at the suddenness of their actions, and before they recovered themselves, my operatives were speeding like the wind some distance away. "lay low to your saddle!" cried scobell to his companion, "and turn your horse as far to the side of the road as you can," at the same time turning his own animal close to the fence that ran along the roadside. his directions were immediately followed by mrs. lawton, who retained a wonderful control over herself and the beast she rode. it was evident that their enemies had not been expecting such a result to their demand, and they sat for a time like statues; then, as if suddenly recollecting themselves, they wheeled their horses, and, discharging their revolvers in rapid succession, started in swift pursuit. "they'll never get us now," said scobell, "unless their horses are made of better stuff than i think they are." the race now became an exciting one; the pursuers having emptied their weapons, without doing any harm to the escaping pair, did not take time to reload, but urged their horses to their utmost speed. they soon discovered that their horses were no match for those of the fugitives, and their curses were loud enough to be heard by both scobell and his companion, as in spite of all their efforts they found themselves unable to lessen the distance between them. scobell several times ventured a look over his shoulder, to note the progress of their pursuers, and on each occasion, finding them still lagging behind, he uttered some encouraging remark to mrs. lawton, who was straining every nerve in the attempt to escape. while indulging in one of these hasty observations, and forgetting for a moment the management of his horse, the animal suddenly swerved from the road, as if frightened at some object in advance of them, and, stumbling, fell heavily to the ground, throwing scobell over his head and into the ditch. [illustration: "_with a scream of anguish, the one nearest to him threw up his hands and fell heavily to the ground._" p. .] scrambling quickly to his feet, the negro shouted to his companion: "go ahead, don't mind me; save yourself!" he then turned his attention to his horse, which had now recovered his feet, and stood panting and trembling in every nerve both from fright and excessive exertion. listening intently, he could hear the clatter of hoofs of the horse rode by mrs. lawton, in the distance, while coming closer every instant was the noise of the approaching horsemen. they had discovered his misfortune, and were now shouting and yelling with triumph at the possibility of capturing at least one of the party. there was no time for mounting, even if his horse was unhurt, and scobell determined to make a bold stand and sell his life dearly, while he would assuredly prevent the capture of mrs. lawton. leading his horse to the side of the road, he placed himself behind him, and resting his trusty weapon across the saddle, he awaited the coming of the approaching horsemen. he calmly waited until the two men were within a few yards of him, and then, taking as good aim as the light of the moon enabled him to do, he fired. the horseman nearest him uttered a scream of anguish, and, throwing up both hands, toppled from the saddle and fell upon the ground, while his frightened horse, with a snort of terror, wheeled around and dashed off in the direction from whence he had come. the remaining man stopped his horse with a jerk that drew him back upon his haunches, and then, turning swiftly around, set off in the opposite direction, while the bullets from scobell's weapon whistled in dangerously close proximity to his ears. scobell, seeing that three of the pursuers were either dead or badly wounded, proceeded to reload his weapon, and was preparing to remount his horse and follow after mrs. lawton, when he heard the tramp of horses' feet coming from the direction in which she had gone. from the noise they made, he was convinced that the approaching party numbered at least a score, and that they were riding at a sweeping gallop. a bend in the road, however, hid them from his view, and he was unable to determine whether they were friends or foes. in an instant later they swept into full sight, and, to his intense relief, he discovered that they were union cavalrymen, and that mrs. lawton and her husband were at their head. "hello, john!" exclaimed lawton, as they came up, "are you hurt?" "no," replied scobell. "what has become of your assailants?" "two of them we left a mile or two back, one is lying there in the road and the other, so far as i know, is making tracks for richmond," answered scobell. "you are a brave fellow, scobell," said the captain of the squad, coming forward. "you were lucky in escaping their bullets, and still more so that you didn't break your neck when your horse fell with you, at the speed you were going." "he fell on his head, i reckon," ventured one of the soldiers, waggishly, "which accounts for his not being hurt." "that's so," replied scobell, in all seriousness, "i landed right square on my head in that ditch." a roar of laughter followed this remark, and scobell added, good-naturedly: "it might have killed one of you fellows, but it didn't even give me the headache. i am glad, though, it wasn't the missus' horse, or things might have turned out different." the captain now cut short the conversation by ordering four of the party to pursue the flying rebel, and, if possible, effect his capture, while the rest proceeded to hunt up those that had been injured. the man whom scobell had shot last was soon found; he was dead, the ball having entered his skull. riding back to the spot where the first encounter took place, they discovered the dead body of the peddler, or spy, who had met his doom from the bullet of mrs. lawton, while his companion, with a shattered arm, was sitting up, and nearly faint from loss of blood, and suffering intense pain. having captured two of the horses ridden by the party, and bandaging the shattered arm as well as they were able, the wounded man was placed on one of the animals and under an escort they were conveyed to the union lines. two shallow graves were hastily dug, and in them were placed the bodies of the two dead men. the party sent after the escaped soldier soon returned, reporting that he had obtained too much the start of them to be overtaken, and they were compelled to give up the chase. the entire party then returned to the landing, and in the morning my operatives were put across the river, where they reported in due time at headquarters, where they detailed fully the information which they had gleaned in the rebel capital. it was subsequently learned that the peddler was a rebel spy, and for some time past had been visiting the union camps gathering information, which he had no doubt conveyed to the rebels. on his person were found papers which fully confirmed this, and that they failed to reach their destination on account of his death, was a fortunate occurrence for the union cause. how he had discovered the character of my operatives is a mystery yet unsolved, as his wounded companion, when examined the next day, stated that he had met him that night for the first time, and had at his request accompanied him in the trip which had ended so disastrously. he further stated that his party belonged to a band of independent scouts, which had but lately been attached to lee's army, and were assigned to gen. stuart's cavalry. mr. and mrs. lawton and scobell soon afterwards returned to washington, where they were allowed to rest themselves for a time before being again called upon. [illustration: a dead shot.] chapter xxvi. _a woman's discoveries.--an infernal machine.--the shipping in danger.--discovery and destruction of the submarine battery._ the destiny of nations, history tells us, sometimes turns upon the most trivial things. rome was once saved by the gabbling of a flock of geese, whose cries awoke a sentinel sleeping at his post, just in time to give the alarm and enable the roman soldiers to successfully repel the attack of an invading foe. a certain exiled and fugitive king took courage from watching a spider build its web, recovered his kingdom, and a crown that had been wrested from him by the misfortune of war. darius, made king of persia by the neighing of a horse--and in our own day historians agree, that had it not been for the opportune appearance of the "monitor" when the rebel iron-clad "merrimac" steamed out of hampton roads in march, , the destruction of the union might have been an accomplished fact. for had not that formidable battery met her match in the "yankee cheese-box," as the "monitor" was derisively called, she might have cleared the water of union sloops of war, raised the blockade, opened the way by river to washington, shelled the national capital and turned the fortunes of war decidedly in favor of the south. this battle was an important epoch in the history of nations, and demonstrated to the world the formidable character of iron-clad war vessels, hitherto unknown; and placed the united states on record as having produced the most invincible navy in the world. in addition to the "merrimac," the south, early in , had devised a great many ingenious machines in the shape of torpedoes and submarine batteries, that were designed for the purpose of blowing up the union vessels that blockaded the southern ports. it was through the efforts of one of my operatives that the existence of one of these submarine batteries was discovered, and that, too, just in the nick of time to save the federal blockading fleet at the mouth of the james river from probable destruction. it was in the early part of november, , that i dispatched one of my lady operatives to richmond and the south, for the especial purpose of ascertaining as much information as possible about these torpedoes and infernal machines, which i had good reason to believe were constructed at the rebel capital. the tredegar iron works, the largest factory of the kind in the south, were located at this place, and since the commencement of hostilities had been manufacturing cannon and all kinds of shot and shell for the confederacy. the lady whom i selected for this task was mrs. e. h. baker; she had been in my employ for years, and at one time had resided in richmond, although, prior to the war, she had removed to the north, where she had since dwelt. this lady, fortunately enough, was well acquainted with a captain atwater and his family, who resided in richmond, and after undertaking the mission, she wrote to them from chicago, apparently, stating that notwithstanding the conflict between the two sections of the country, she designed to pay a visit to them and renew the acquaintance of years ago. she accordingly started, and after a circuitous journey, arrived in richmond on the th day of the month. the captain and his family received her most hospitably, and requested her to make her home with them during her stay in that city. captain atwater, although holding a commission in the rebel army, was at heart a union man, and secretly rejoiced at the news of a federal victory. he soon expressed his views to my operative so clearly and forcibly, that she believed, if he could do so, without jeopardy, he would join the union troops, and fight for the cause that really had his heartiest wishes for success. while mrs. baker did not reveal to him her connection with the secret service of the united states, she took no pains to conceal from him her real sentiments, and in their confidential conversations, was quite free in expressing her desire for a speedy union triumph. the captain was firm in his belief that the south was wrong, and that the masses had been led into the war by designing and ambitious politicians, and that she must eventually fail. moreover, he said, that, while born in a slave-holding state, he believed the institution to be wicked and cruel, and that the south should have given up her slaves rather than have gone out of the union. loyal as he was, the captain understood the southern people thoroughly, and he felt sure that they would fight long and stubbornly, rather than yield to the blacks the boon of freedom. many days thus passed in quiet enjoyment and in these stolen discussions upon the important topics of the day. mrs. baker found herself very comfortably situated beneath the captain's hospitable roof, and nearly a week was passed in viewing richmond and the strange sights it then afforded. on every hand she saw preparations for war, and at every street she turned, she was confronted with armed soldiers, whose measured tread kept time to the music of fife and drum. in company with the captain, she also visited the earthworks and fortifications around richmond, and gained many valuable points of information in regard to their number and extent. as yet, however, she had been unable to discover anything concerning the special object of her mission, and feeling the necessity of accomplishing something in that direction, she resolved to act. she had now established herself so firmly in the estimation of those with whom she associated, that she believed she could with safety turn her inquiries in the direction that would lead to the knowledge she desired to gain. accordingly, one evening at the tea-table she remarked, incidentally, that she desired very much to visit the tredegar iron works. "why, certainly," replied the captain; "i will be most happy to go with you to-morrow." "that will be delightful," said mrs. baker, enthusiastically. "but stay a moment," said the captain, musingly, "i am afraid i will not be able to go to-morrow, as i have to go down the river to witness a test of a submarine battery." "why couldn't i go, too?" demurely asked my operative. "i am sure i should enjoy it very much; that is, if there is no danger connected with it." "oh, there is no danger, whatever, and there will, doubtless, be a number of ladies present, and you can go if you wish to." "i should most certainly wish to," laughingly answered mrs. baker. "very well," said the captain; "if you and mrs. atwater will be ready by nine o'clock, we will have ample time to reach the place, which is some few miles below the city." the ladies were both much pleased with this arrangement, and expressed themselves in extravagant terms of thankfulness for a trip which, no doubt, would be exceedingly pleasant. the captain then proceeded to explain to them the nature of the battery which was to be experimented with on the morrow. he explained the object to be obtained by this battery, which was to break up the blockading fleet at the mouth of the james river, and thus give the south an outlet to the sea. the next day they started in a carriage for the scene of the exhibition, which was located about ten miles below the city. arriving at the appointed spot, they found quite a large number of military men, many of them accompanied by ladies, assembled to witness the testing of the machine, from which so much was expected. a large scow had been towed into the middle of the river, and the submarine vessel was to approach it and attach a magazine, containing nearly half a bushel of powder, to which was attached several deadly projectiles, and this was to be fired by a peculiarly constructed fuse, connected by a long wire coiled on board the submarine vessel. at a given signal the boat was sunk into the river, about half a mile below the scow, and shortly afterwards it began to make its way under the water towards it. the only visible sign of its existence was a large float that rested on the surface of the water, and which was connected with the vessel below, designed to supply the men that operated it with air. this float was painted a dark green, to imitate the color of the water, and could only be noticed by the most careful observer. as my operative listened to a full explanation of the machine and its workings, she could scarcely control her emotions of fear for the safety of the federal boats, in the event of its successful operation, and provided the government was not speedily warned of its existence. it was learned that this vessel was but a small working model of a much larger one, that was now nearly completed, and would be finished in about two weeks, and would then be taken to the mouth of the james river, to operate on the war vessels guarding that port. they had obtained an excellent position, where they had a full view of the river, and with the aid of a strong field-glass they could distinctly watch the large "float," which indicated the approach of the vessel. "how do the men who operate the machine manage to attach the magazine to the vessel they design to destroy?" asked mrs. baker. "two or three men, who operate the boat," replied the captain, "are provided with submarine diving armor, which enables them to work under the water and attach the magazine to the ship intended to be blown up. they then have only to quickly move away to a safe distance, fire their fuse, and the work is done." the captain also informed her, that the object was to break the blockade and allow the steamers "patrick henry" and "thomas jefferson" out to sea, these vessels being loaded with cotton and bound for england. while they were talking, my operative was closely watching, by the aid of her glass, the movements of the boat, and she now noticed that having approached to within a few rods of the scow, it stopped, and the water "float" which indicated its position remained motionless. after remaining in this position for a few minutes, it slowly began to recede from the scow, in the direction from whence it came. it moved steadily away some hundreds of yards, and mrs. baker was wondering at the seemingly long delay, when suddenly, and without any previous warning whatever, there was a terrific explosion, and the scow seemed lifted bodily out of the water and thrown high into the air. her destruction was complete, and there was no longer any doubt that the submarine battery could be used with deadly and telling effect on the ships constituting the federal blockading squadron. those who witnessed the experiment were, of course, much elated over the efficient work of destruction which had been accomplished, and even captain atwater, in his enthusiasm as a soldier, forgot temporarily his real feelings, in his undisguised admiration of the ingenuity of the invention and the effectiveness of its operation. mrs. baker, however, looked on with a heavy heart as she reflected upon the terrible consequences of the workings of this machine, and at once felt the urgent necessity of taking steps to inform me what she had witnessed. unless something was done in this direction, she felt confident that the federal ships would be destroyed, the blockade forever ended, and untold disaster would attend the union cause. after their return home that evening, she made copious notes of what she had learned and witnessed, which she safely secreted about her person. the next day, in company with the captain, she visited the tredegar iron works, and inspected the boat that was being built. it was truly a formidable-looking engine of destruction. the next day, being sunday, she remained at the residence of the captain, and on monday morning, having procured a pass, she bade farewell to her host and his amiable spouse, and left richmond for fredericksburg. from thence she made her way to washington by the way of leonardstown, and lost no time in reporting to me the success of her trip. she had made a hasty, though quite comprehensive, sketch of the vessel, which sketch is still in my possession, and which showed the position under the surface of the water, and explained its workings. i immediately laid my information before general mcclellan and the secretary of the navy, who at once transmitted the intelligence to the commanders of the squadron, instructing them to keep a sharp lookout for the "water-colored surface float," and to drag the water for the purpose of securing possession of the air tubes connecting the float with the vessel below. nothing was heard from this for about three weeks, but about that time i was informed that one of the vessels of the blockading fleet off the mouth of the james river had discovered the float, and putting out her drag-rope, had caught the air-tubes and thus effectually disabled the vessel from doing any harm, and no doubt drowning all who were on board of her. this incident, and the peculiarity of the machine, was duly discussed in the newspapers at that time, who stated that "by a mere accident the federal fleet off james river had been saved from destruction"--but i knew much better, and that the real credit of the discovery was due to a lady of my own force. the efficient manner in which this work was performed was of great service to the nation, and sustained the reputation of the secret service department, as being an important adjunct in aiding the government in its efforts to suppress the rebellion. chapter xxvii. _"stuttering dave."--his tramp through the rebel lines.--an ammunition train.--"dave's" plan succeeds in its destruction.--a man who stuttered and "had fits."_ one morning, while the army was on the advance up the peninsula, i was strolling about the camp, when i encountered a group of soldiers gathered around one of their number, who appeared to be entertaining them immensely with his droll anecdotes and dry witticisms. approaching closer, i became one of the crowd that surrounded the narrator, and listened to an amusing incident admirably told, which had happened to him a day or two before while out with a scouting party. he was a man about thirty years of age, of medium height, strongly and compactly built, and with a good, firm, intelligent face, over which he had the most perfect control. so perfect was his command over his facial expression that he could make his hearers roar with laughter, while he, to use a homely phrase, would "never crack a smile." i noticed on joining the little crowd that had gathered around him, that the fellow stuttered amazingly, which fact, together with his imperturbable gravity, seemed to be the secret of his always having a good audience about him to listen to his stories and to enjoy his droll humor. i was struck with the man's appearance at first sight and at once concluded that, unless i was much deceived in him, he was a man whom i could use to good advantage, and i determined to ascertain who he was and where he belonged. turning to a soldier at my side, i inquired the man's name. looking at me as though surprised at my ignorance, he answered: "why, that's 'stuttering dave,' the drollest, smartest man in this regiment, and one of the best fellows you ever met." "what regiment does he belong to?" i asked. "to the twenty-first new york," said the soldier, "but ever since i have known him, he has been with a scouting party. he used to live in virginia before the war, and is well acquainted about here." that day i called upon the colonel of the regiment to which the man belonged, and informed him of my wishes, which, if agreeable to him, i would ask him to send "stuttering dave" to my quarters. shortly after sundown he came, and to my astonishment, i found that his stuttering propensity had entirely disappeared, and that he conversed with me with surprising ease and intelligence, and a quiet earnestness that betokened a solid and well-informed man. the fact was that stuttering with him was only a favorite amusement, and so naturally was it simulated, that no one would suspect he was shamming or that he was anything else but a confirmed stutterer of the most incorrigible type. in the interview which followed he signified his willingness to enter the secret service, and a day or two later he was detailed to my force. here he served with such ability and credit that he was shortly discharged from his regiment altogether, and for the rest of the war was one of my most faithful and valued operatives. a few days after this interview, david graham, for that was his real name, otherwise known as "stuttering dave," set out under my instructions, on a trip within the rebel lines. as he was about leaving my tent, he shook hands with me, and said in his dry manner: "g-g-go-good-by, m-m-m-major, i'm g-g-g-oin to have s-s-some fun before i g-g-get home, if i d-d-don't i'm a g-g-goat, that's all." cautioning him against allowing his propensity for "fun" to get him into trouble, i accompanied him to the edge of the camp, and saw him set out in the direction of the confederate forces. graham had adopted the disguise of a peddler of notions, and carried in his pack a goodly supply of buttons, needles, thread, pins and such a trifling articles as he knew would be in great demand by the soldiers. discarding his uniform, and dressed in a suit of butternut jean, with a broad-brimmed hat, a stout stick, and a pack across his shoulder, he appeared a veritable tramping peddler. no one, to have seen him, would have imagined that he was an emissary of the secret service, and they would little have suspected that the stuttering, harmless-looking fellow who was hawking his wares, knew aught about military affairs, or the plans and movements of an army. it was in the fast deepening twilight of a beautiful evening, and but a few days after he had left the union lines, that a party of rebel soldiers, weary and hungry with the toilsome march of the day, were resting around a camp-fire, engaged in the preparations of their evening meal. while thus employed, they were approached by a strange-looking individual, who walked right into their midst, and without ceremony, flung down his pack and seated himself among them. "b-b-boys," said he, "i'm most d-d-darned hungry, w-w-w-what do you s-s-say to givin' me a b-b-b-bite to eat; d-d-dang my buttons, i'm willin' to p-p-pay for it in t-t-trade or cash." "how did you manage to get inside the camp?" inquired one, who seemed to be the leader of the mess. "f-f-f-followed my legs, and they b-b-b-brought me right in," replied stuttering dave, as he coolly produced a short-stemmed, dirty-looking pipe, which he deliberately filled, and then lighted with a coal from the glowing embers at his feet. "what have you got to sell?" asked a soldier at his side. "o, n-n-needles, p-p-pins, thread, b-b-buttons and n-n-notions." "did you come from the yanks?" now asked the man who had first addressed him. "d-d-d-am the yanks!" ejaculated dave, "i d-d-don't know anything about 'em. ain't them your s-s-sentiments?" he added, nudging the fellow who sat nearest to him. his companion evidently did not relish this sly poke, for he growled: "i, for one, am gettin' most thunderin' tired of runnin' around the country, and nothin' would suit me better than for us to stop long enough to giv' 'em a good lickin'." "you l-licked 'em like the d-d-devil at williamsburgh, d-d-d-didn't you?" said dave. the fellow looked at him in surprise, but failed to detect any evidence of an intended sarcasm in the immovable gravity of his face, so mentally concluding that the peddler was a fool and one of nature's own at that, he dropped the conversation. by this time the meal was ready, and dave, being invited to join them, gladly assented, and fell to with an appetite that showed how thoroughly he enjoyed the repast. supper over, the party spent the evening in chatting and telling yarns. the detective opened his pack, and displaying his goods, soon disposed of quite a large quantity, in return for which he demanded, and would take, nothing but silver or gold. when "taps" were called, he turned in with the party, and placing his pack under his head for a pillow, he soon slept soundly, until reveille in the early morning aroused him from his slumbers. having eaten his breakfast, he sauntered through the camp, taking keen notice of the number of troops, and finding out all he could concerning their intended plans and movements. during the day, he did a thriving business with his small stock of notions, and was everywhere followed by a crowd, who were attracted by his droll humor and witty sayings. on one of these occasions, and while he was driving some lively bargains with the soldiers that were gathered around him, he was approached by an officer, who slapped him familiarly on the shoulder and exclaimed: "here, my good fellow, we can use men like you; hadn't you better enlist with us? you can do your country a great deal more good than you are doing, tramping around the country selling needles and pins." the detective turned around, and seeing who it was addressing him, replied: "c-captain, i d-d-don't think you would want me; i t-t-tried t-to enlist s-s-s-sometime ago, b-b-b-but the d-d-doctor said, m-my f-f-fits and stuttering b-b-being so b-b-bad, he c-c-couldn't p-p-pass me." "are you subject to fits?" the officer now asked, as a sympathetic look came over his face. "had 'em ever s-s-since i was t-t-ten years old," replied dave, "have 'em every f-f-full of the m-m-moon." "where do you live?" interrupted the officer. "on t-t-the other s-s-side of the river," he answered. "what is your name?" "they c-c-call me st-st-stuttering dave," replied the detective, with an idiotic grin. the officer now turned and walked away, feeling no longer any interest in the fellow, except to pity his condition; and thoroughly satisfied that there was no harm in him, and that he was utterly unfit for a soldier. well pleased to have shaken off the curious officer as easily as he had, dave now turned again to the soldiers and resumed his occupation of dickering with the crowd about him; having concluded his business here, he ambled off to another part of the grounds where a large quantity of ammunition was stored in the wagons. instantly, an idea occurred to him which he resolved to carry out if possible. it was to undertake the dangerous feat of firing the ammunition, and depriving his enemies of that much destructive material at all events. he lost all interest in disposing of his goods for a time, and proceeded to make a careful examination of the grounds about the wagons, and formed his plans for carrying out his project that very night. he soon decided that by laying a train of powder from the wagons and running it to a safe distance, he could readily set fire to it, and make his escape in the confusion that would follow. at midnight, therefore, he stole around to the wagons and quietly commenced his work. he had taken the precaution that afternoon, to supply himself with a quantity of powder fuses, by rolling the powder up loosely in long strips of rags. placing these in position to connect with the ammunition in the wagons, and laying his train from one to another, the next thing was to lay a long train, that would enable him after firing it to get out of harm's way before the explosion occurred. having completed his arrangements, he now took himself off, to wait until the whole camp should be quietly wrapped in slumber, before he started his "fireworks," as he called them. about midnight, had the sentinel on guard at the wagons containing the ammunition been awake, and looking sharply about him, instead of dozing at his post, he might have observed a man stealthily steal up to the stores, and silently and quickly disappear into the woods beyond. fortunately, however, for our friend, and the enterprise he had on hand, he only snored quietly and peacefully against a neighboring tree, little dreaming of the surprise that was in store for him. a few minutes later, a long, quick flash of light darted along the ground, which was immediately followed by a loud, stunning report, and the murky darkness was illumined with a brilliant, flaming light, and great volumes of smoke. instantly the entire camp was aroused, and the half-dressed and fully-frightened soldiers came rushing to the scene, which was now only a scattered pile of burning ruins. how it occurred, no one knew, or could tell aught about it, and wild conjectures were freely indulged in as to the probable cause of the disaster. in the meantime, the only man in the world who could tell anything about the affair, was traveling as fast as his legs could carry him in the direction of the union camp. in a few days he made his appearance at my headquarters, and related the success of his journey. i could not refrain from laughing heartily at his peculiar and independent system of warfare, but advised him to be more careful in the future as to how he tampered with the stores of the enemy. i was not disappointed as to the ability of the man, however, and for months he served me faithfully and well, needing but little instruction, and always performing his work to the entire satisfaction of every one. he at times adopted various disguises, but generally depended upon his own natural shrewdness, and his natural adaptiveness for the role of an itinerant peddler to carry him through successfully. he was always fortunate in his trips, and, so far as i knew, his identity was never discovered, and in the peddler who stuttered and "sometimes had fits," the rebels never recognized an emissary of the secret service. [illustration: shot by a cannon-ball.] chapter xxviii. _another trip to richmond.--a rebel general taken in.--curtis makes valuable acquaintances.--"the subterranean headquarters."_ early in , it becoming necessary to obtain more fully the plans and intentions of the enemy, and their numbers around richmond, i in april of that year dispatched one of my keenest and shrewdest operatives on this important mission. the man selected for this delicate and dangerous work was george curtis, a young man about twenty-five years of age, tall, well-formed, with dark complexion, clear gray eyes, and possessing handsome, intelligent features. he was one of those men rarely met, who was by nature a detective; cool-headed, brave and determined, with ready wit and sagacious mind, he was especially qualified for efficient work in that important branch, the secret service. he was a native of new york, and had at the opening of the war enlisted in an infantry regiment from that state. learning of his desire to enter the secret service, i had procured his discharge from his regiment, and he was detailed on my force, where he served until the close of the war. it was a beautiful april morning when, with his instructions carefully treasured in memory, for he dared take no written ones, he left my office on "i" street, in washington, and set out on his perilous trip. i had previously made arrangements that he should accompany general mcclellan down the river on his boat, the "commodore," and on which he had established his headquarters, to fortress monroe, and landing there, make his way to richmond. the morning of the first, he left washington, and the next day he arrived at old point comfort, and landed under the frowning walls of the old fort. he remained here until the morning of the second day after his arrival, where he was provided with a horse, and set across the river and proceeded on his way towards the rebel capital. he had now a journey of near seventy miles before him, through a country filled with enemies to the cause he espoused, and from whom, should his true character and mission become known, he might expect anything but kind treatment at their hands. his object in crossing the james at this point was to place himself in less danger from suspicion as a spy, and to better enable him to learn the sentiment of the people, as well as to gain accurate knowledge of the condition of the country as to roads, bridges, streams, etc., all of which information is of essential importance for the general of an invading army to know. he, therefore, on horseback, and apparently as a man traveling for pleasure and recreation, proceeded on his way up the valley of the river and towards the objective point of his journey, the rebel capital. nothing worthy of note occurred during the day; he stopped at noon at a house by the wayside, and obtained dinner for himself and horse. in a conversation with his host, who was a well-to-do old farmer, he apparently in a careless manner betrayed the fact that he himself followed the same occupation, that he lived on the river in the county of norfolk, below, and was on his way to visit among friends at petersburgh. it was towards evening that he neared the outskirts of the city, when he suddenly encountered the rebel pickets, stationed outside the town, who halted him and demanded to know his name and business. "my name is curtis," replied the operative, "and i am from norfolk; my business i will state to your commander when i am taken to him." without further ceremony he was turned over to the officer of the guard, who sent him under escort to general hill, the general in command. "whom have you here?" queried the general, as in the company of his escort the detective was led into his presence. "a man who says he is from norfolk," replied the guard, "but who refuses to tell his business to any one but yourself." "you may retire," said the general, and the escort immediately left the room. "now," he exclaimed, turning to curtis, "what is your business? please be as brief as possible, as i am very busy." "well, to come to the point at once," replied the detective; "in the first place, then, i spoke falsely to your pickets when i told them i was from norfolk. my name is curtis, and i am from washington. as to my business, i deal in what the yankees are pleased to term contraband goods; yet i don't see how gun-caps, ammunition of all kinds, and quinine should be considered contraband, for the simple reason that i, as a dealer, find a better market south than north for my goods. my desire," he continued, "is to get through to richmond, where i hope to be able to effect contracts, with secretary benjamin, to furnish my goods to the confederate government." "how did you get through the union lines?" asked the general, still, evidently, a little suspicious of the sincerity of the detective's story. "i came down on the 'commodore,' general mcclellan's boat, three days ago," he answered, "was set across the river there, procured a horse from a friend, and here i am." "do you know anything of mcclellan's plans for an advance?" asked the general. "i can tell you nothing about them," answered curtis, "as everything is kept secret from even his own staff, i am told." the general mused, thoughtfully, a moment, and then said: "i will give you a pass to richmond, and you can proceed on your way in the morning." "thank you, general," exclaimed the detective, "i assure you the cause shall suffer no loss by any efforts of mine. i shall, in all probability, return by this way, in a few weeks at farthest, when, if i can be of any service to you, you have only to command me." "by the way," said the general, "i have some letters to parties in richmond, which ought to go at once. if you will do me the favor to deliver them i shall be obliged to you." "i shall be happy to serve you, general, and will take pleasure in seeing that your letters reach their destination all right." "very well, then; call at my quarters in the morning, before you start, and i will have them ready for you, and will give you also your pass to richmond." curtis thanked him again, and, bidding him good-night, repaired to the hotel, and secured for himself and horse supper and lodging for the night. after he had partaken of a hearty meal, and provided himself with an excellent cigar, he sauntered out on to the veranda of the hotel, and, taking a comfortable seat, prepared to enjoy his fragrant weed, and amuse himself with listening to the conversation of those around him. he soon discovered that the war, and the prospects for a speedy victory for the south, were the subjects under discussion, and he listened with much interest to the ideas advanced, and the confidence that marked their assertions of the superiority of the southern troops over the northern mudsills, as they termed the federalists. "you may depend on it, that general johnson will not permit the yanks to approach any closer to richmond than they now are, without contesting every inch of the ground as they advance," remarked one gentleman of the party near which he was sitting. "no," emphatically rejoined another, "when they take richmond, it will be when they have annihilated the southern people, when not a thousand able-bodied men are left on southern soil to rally to its defense." "well, i am satisfied," remarked another, "that right here is to be the contest, that is to decide this matter one way or the other." "if the yankees take richmond, the south may as well surrender at once; if however they fail, as they are extremely liable to do, _they_, on the other hand, may as well withdraw their forces and acknowledge our independence." "if i am not greatly mistaken," now ventured my operative, "in the spirit of the southern people, they will, to use a common phrase, 'fight to the bitter end.' and yet," he continued, "to the thoughtful observer, it is not pleasant to contemplate the spectacle of brother arrayed against brother, as they are in this war. i tell you, gentlemen," he added, "that while i am a southern man, it grieves me to see our land so rent with strife and bloodshed and that the north has made it necessary for a resort to arms to settle a matter that should have been amicably adjusted." at this juncture, the party was joined by a new-comer, who had evidently just left the supper-room, as he carried an unlighted cigar in one hand, while with the other he was picking his teeth, with the manner of a man who had just eaten a hearty meal and who had enjoyed it. he was a man past the middle age, hair generously sprinkled with gray, and with a face, that while bronzed by exposure to the weather, was keenly intelligent, not unhandsome, and strongly expressive of force and decision of character. he seated himself and soon joined in the conversation, with that freedom and _nonchalance_ that characterizes the experienced yet courteous traveler, who has seen the world and is familiar with its ways. "we shall hear of some pretty hard fighting, shortly, i imagine," finally observed the stranger; "mcclellan has arrived at fortress monroe, and will no doubt commence hostilities at once." "and we shall also hear of his army getting badly whipped," put in one of the party. "well," rejoined the stranger, "that may be true; but, after all, the real contest will be before richmond; the fighting that may occur now will only be the strategic moves preceding the final struggle. lee and johnson," he continued, "are not yet ready for mcclellan to advance upon richmond, and they will see to it that it is put in the best possible condition of defense before he succeeds in reaching it." at this, my operative, who had taken little part in the conversation, except as an attentive listener, now arose and laughingly said: "gentlemen, i guess we are all of one mind on this subject, let's adjourn down below and interview the bar-keeper; i don't profess to be a judge of military matters, but when it comes to a good article of whisky, i claim to be posted." the party, numbering near a dozen gentlemen about him, good-humoredly took the interruption and laughingly followed the detective, who now led the way to the bar-room. they filled glasses all around and curtis proposed the rather ambiguous toast, "may the right prevail, and death and confusion, attend its enemies"--ambiguous in that it as much represented his real sentiments as it also met the approval of his secession friends. after the party had drank, they separated, agreeing to meet later in the evening; curtis was himself starting for a stroll about the town, when the stranger, who had last joined the party on the veranda approached him and said: "i have just drank the toast you proposed, and judging from it and your conversation up stairs, i take you to be, at least, a friend to the south, if indeed you are not a southern man. i should like much to have your company for a short stroll about the city; my name," he added, "is leroy, and i hail from baltimore." "i shall be glad to accompany you, mr. leroy," said my operative, heartily: "i was just thinking of going for a walk alone, but i assure you i shall be only too glad to have a companion. and since you have so kindly told me your name, i may as well tell you, that mine is george curtis, and i am from washington. but before we start," he added, "let us have a fresh cigar." he then ordered the cigars and they started for their walk. they had not proceeded far, before his new companion revealed the fact, that he also was in the contraband trade, and singularly enough, was on his way to richmond on precisely the same business my operative had represented himself as engaged. of course, curtis reciprocated the confidence of his new-found friend, and with such results, that he not only returned from his walk much better posted on how to get goods through to richmond, but actually returned a partner in an enterprize to furnish their goods in large quantities to the confederate government, provided they could succeed in making satisfactory arrangements with mr. benjamin, the secretary of war. they returned to the hotel, where they had a long talk, completing their plans. it was arranged that my operative should leave his horse at petersburg, and in the morning, they would proceed on their way to richmond by rail. on the following morning he arose early, and after breakfast, proceeded to call on general hill at his quarters and obtained his pass, also the letters he was to carry for him to parties in richmond. they then took a train for the rebel capital, and by noon found themselves in that city. the day following his arrival, in company with leroy, he called on mr. benjamin and succeeded in closing contracts to furnish large quantities of their goods to his government, and at prices that were highly satisfactory to mr. leroy, who jovially remarked, as they left the secretary's presence, that if they only had good luck, their fortunes were made. curtis, however, felt highly gratified over the result of the interview, more from the reflection of the aid it would give him in prosecuting the real object of his visit, than from any financial benefit he expected to derive from it. he had received a pass from the secretary that would enable him to pass in and out of richmond at his pleasure, a most important privilege, and one that really removed all practical hindrances, and left him free to more fully accomplish his work. he had not been in the city a week before he discovered that through some source, the rebels had almost daily news from the front, concerning the movements and plans of the union troops. this he now determined to ferret out, and the next day, he in a careless manner, inquired of his friend leroy, how it was, they obtained news so promptly from the front. "why," replied his friend, laughingly, "haven't you heard of the subterranean headquarters?" "i confess i have not," replied the detective. "then come along with me," said leroy. "i ought to have told you about this before, as it is intimately connected with our business." he then led the way to the very hotel at which they were stopping, and conducted curtis to a large and elegantly furnished room on the third floor, and in which were seated a number of gentlemen--some reading, while others were engaged in writing at little tables that were ranged about the room. "here," said he, laughing, "are the subterranean headquarters, although they are above the top of the ground instead of beneath it. i need not tell you," he added, "that the name is given as much to mislead as for any other purpose." they then took seats at one end of the room where they were alone, and he proceeded with his explanation: "first," he said, "you must know that this is a bureau of intelligence, and is managed partly by the government and partly by wealthy merchants here and at baltimore; besides being used in getting information concerning the movements of the federal troops, it is also used by the merchants in getting our goods through from baltimore. we employ," he continued, "nearly fifty persons, some of whom are constantly in the field carrying dispatches, gaining and bringing in information from the yankee lines. these persons are all under the control of a chief at their head, and are all known to that man yonder," pointing to a gentleman seated at a desk at the opposite end of the room. "strange as it may seem to you," he continued, "right here in this hotel, we have the most exclusive privacy. you noticed that man standing in the hall when we came in, the same one now sitting at the desk?" curtis nodded, and he proceeded: "well, he knew me, and consequently he knew you were all right. had you come alone, that door would have been closed, and would not have opened, had you tried it. now," he said, "i will call him here and introduce you." touching a small bell that stood on the table, the gentleman, to whom he had alluded, instantly answered its summons and crossed the room to where they were sitting. "mr. wallace," said leroy, "this is my friend and partner, mr. curtis." the two men bowed and shook hands, and wallace seating himself proved to be a pleasant and well-informed gentleman. in the course of the conversation, leroy asked, "what is the latest news from the front, mr. wallace?" "we have nothing as yet to-day," he answered, "but yesterday it was reported that mcclellan had laid siege to yorktown; the chances are, that we shall hear of a battle, in a few days at farthest." during the interview, curtis learned also, that the persons operating for this bureau had confederates, both at baltimore and at washington; these, he determined to discover, if possible, in addition to the information already gained. to this end, he made himself very agreeable to mr. wallace, and in the course of the conversation, expressed his willingness to do what he could in aiding the force, and remarked that he should be passing back and forth, between washington and richmond, and could doubtless be of service. mr. wallace thanked him heartily, and gave him a small plain badge of peculiar shape, that would at any time, if shown, admit him to the headquarters, and then taking him about the room, he introduced him to the gentlemen present, and after a short conversation with his new friends, he in company with leroy took his departure, and together they went down to dinner. that evening, as he was sitting in the bar-room of the hotel, one of the men he had met up-stairs in the forenoon, came to him and told him that in a day or two, he was to start for yorktown with important dispatches for general magruder, but that owing, to sickness in his family, he did not want to leave home, unless it was impossible for him to get some one he could trust to undertake the task for him. he then asked curtis if he would object to making the trip for him. the detective thought a moment, and told him he would give him an answer in the morning. the two men then indulged in a friendly glass, after which they separated. the man had no sooner gone, than curtis made up his mind to take the dispatches, not to general magruder, but to me at washington. accordingly, the next morning he informed his friend he would undertake the task for him, as he intended returning to baltimore at any rate. the next morning found him, with the dispatches carefully secreted about his person, at the depot, ready to take the first train for petersburgh. here he arrived about noon, and proceeded to call on general hill. after procuring his dinner at the hotel, he ordered his horse and started on his long ride for the union camp, where he delivered his dispatches to mr. bangs, the superintendent of my headquarters in the field, and forwarded copies of the same to me at washington, together with a full account of his trip and information he had gained; not forgetting a full statement of his discovery of the "subterranean headquarters," and his enlistment as a member of its force of spies and agents, employed in transmitting intelligence of the movements and plans of the union troops. chapter xxix. _a virginia home.--unwelcome visitors.--mr. harcourt arrested and released.--dan mccowan makes forcible love to mary harcourt.--the girl in peril.--a timely rescue.--the villain punished._ the important information brought to my notice by operative curtis, on his return from richmond, concerning the character and working of the "subterranean headquarters," at once determined me on a plan of using the same body of men, or rather the information they carried, for the benefit of the union forces, instead of allowing them to use it in the interests of the confederates. to accomplish this, i detailed several members of my force, both at washington and baltimore, to co-operate with curtis, whom i intended now should become an active agent of the rebels in carrying dispatches to and from richmond. the plan was, in short, that all dispatches entrusted to him should be accurately copied, the copies to be delivered to his confederates, and the originals forwarded to their destination. in war, as in a game of chess, if you know the moves of your adversary in advance, it is then an easy matter to shape your own plans, and make your moves accordingly, and, of course, always to your own decided advantage. so in this case, i concluded that if the information intended for the rebels could first be had by us, after that, they were welcome to all the benefit they might derive from them. in a few days, then, having completed my arrangements, curtis started to richmond, by the way of wilson's landing and glendale, he having decided that, provided as he was with his pass from the secretary, it would be perfectly safe, and at the same time a much shorter route than by the way of petersburgh. leaving him for the present, then, to make his way to richmond as best he can, we will turn our attention to other persons and to other scenes. the interior of a comfortable farm-house, the place, and early evening the time. the family are gathered around the tea-table, and are discussing earnestly the war, and the chances of the success of the northern troops. the family consisted of five persons: the husband and wife, both traveling down the western slope of life, a young and beautiful daughter, apparently about twenty years of age, and two younger children, a boy and girl, aged, respectively, fourteen and twelve years. these latter are listening attentively to the conversation going on about them, and anon interjecting some childish observation, or asking some question commensurate with the quaint views and ideas of childish years. "well," finally observed the old gentleman, "it is hard that one dare not speak their own sentiments in a country like this; my grandfather fought in the revolution, my father in the war of , and i, myself, took a hand in the brush with mexico; but i never dreamed of seeing the day when a man dared not speak his honest convictions, for fear of having his roof burnt from over his head, and, worse than all, endanger even his own life, and those dearest to him." "i have always told you, william," replied his good wife, "that the day would come when this fearful curse of slavery would have to be wiped out in blood, and you all know now that i prophesied truly. and," she added, "as for me, i have no fears for the result. _our_ only mistake has been in casting our lot and settling in the south, and in the very presence of an evil we could not avert." "true, mother," rejoined her husband, "but you know i have ever been outspoken against slavery, and its attendant curses. i also flatter myself that i have had some influence in mitigating, at least, the condition of not a few of the black race. you remember colonel singleton liberated his slaves at the very outset of this war." "and was compelled to flee to the north to save his own life," answered his wife; "and had we been wise, we would have gone to a country more congenial to our views, and while we could have done so with safety. i am afraid," she continued, "if it becomes known that our son has joined the union army, serious trouble may befall us at the hands of men who have long desired an excuse for arresting you and confiscating your property; if, indeed, they would be content with sparing your life." "if i were younger," said the old gentleman, "i would defy them to do their worst; and, as it is, my only fears are for my family, not for myself. still," he added, "my neighbors are all friendly, and the majority of them, though thinking differently from me on these questions, are under obligations to me, so that i feel i have but little to fear at their hands. as to our boy, who has gone to fight for the old flag, i am proud of him; i fought for it, so did my fathers before me, and i would disown the child who would refuse, if necessary, to lay down his life in its defense." and here, fired with the sentiments he had just uttered, he arose from the table in an agitated manner and began to pace the floor. "ah," he continued, "i love that old flag, and old as i am, would fight for it yet." going to a case that stood in a corner of the room, he took from a shelf a beautiful silken banner, and holding it aloft, he exclaimed, with great earnestness, "there is the flag i fight under--the flag of the union and of the country our fathers fought to save." "father," exclaimed his eldest daughter, "you forget yourself in your enthusiasm; even now some one may be outside listening; you forget that dan mccowan and his desperate gang may be in the vicinity and give us a call at any moment." scarcely had the warning fell from her lips, when there came a loud knocking at the door, followed by a few vigorous and well-directed blows that threatened to take it from its hinges. the whole family started up in alarm, and while one snatched the flag from the old gentleman and hastily deposited it in its hiding-place, another answered the summons from without. the old man himself, while not frightened, was somewhat disconcerted by the noise, and remained standing in the center of the room, when the door was suddenly burst open, revealing a body of confederate soldiers headed by a villainous-looking fellow, their leader, who now entered the room, and approaching him, said: "mr. harcourt, i have orders to place you under arrest, so you will prepare to accompany us to glendale at once!" "what crime have i committed?" demanded the old man, now perfectly calm, "that you dare enter my house in this manner!" "you will know that soon enough," replied the officer; "so hustle on your duds, as we must be going. bill," he commanded, turning to a fellow near him, "you will search the house and take possession of anything contraband or treasonable that you can find." this order was exactly what his followers wanted, as it meant really an order to plunder the house and appropriate to their own use whatever articles of value they found and that pleased them to take. as none of the family had offered the slightest resistance, the unwelcome intruders had conducted themselves, so far, very orderly. mrs. harcourt, a kind and matronly-looking woman, with a firmness and self-control, that under the circumstances was admirable, bustled about the room, getting together a small bundle of clothing for her husband to take with him on his enforced journey to glendale; and anon, while doing this, spoke soothing words of comfort and encouragement to the younger children, who, white and speechless with terror, were crouching in the darkest corner of the room. the eldest daughter, at a sign from her father, accompanied the two men detailed to search the premises, and proceeded with them from room to room, as they rummaged chests and drawers, appropriating various little articles to their own use, in spite of the indignant protest of the spirited girl at such barefaced robbery. finally, with much reluctance, she was compelled to admit them to her own room, and to witness their ruthless handling of the contents of a small trunk, in which were various little articles, trinkets and mementoes, worthless to any one else, but, of course, priceless to her. but what she most prized among them, and which caused her the most alarm should they be discovered, was a small packet of letters from her brother already mentioned as serving in the union army, and a small locket containing his miniature. judge of her dismay were one of the men picked up the letters, and with a laugh exclaimed: "these are from your feller, i suppose;" and then, observing the locket, he opened it and with a leer on his face, said: "and this is his picture, i reckon, eh?" "yes," said the girl eagerly uttering, or rather echoing, the falsehood. "yes," she repeated, "please don't take them, as they are of no account to any one but myself." "all right," said the fellow, good-naturedly, "i guess you can have them;" as he handed them to her. she eagerly seized them, trembling at the narrow escape they had had from falling into the possession of those, who knowing their contents, would have given her poor old father much trouble indeed. having completed their search, and finding nothing that could be considered of a treasonable character, they returned to the room below, and reported to their captain the result of their search. he then ordered his men to retire to the outside, where he followed them, and after consulting a short time, he returned to the house and brusquely informed mr. harcourt that as he had found nothing to convict him of treason against the confederate government, he might go this time, but to be d--d careful in the future, or he would get him yet. he then slammed the door behind him, rejoined his companions who mounted their horses and rode slowly away. satisfied that they had left, the family ventured to express their congratulations at the departure of their unwelcome visitors, and at once set to work rearranging the disordered room. they, however, felt that this was only the commencement of their prosecutions, and they well knew that another time, the chances were that they would not escape so easily; for should it become known that their son was in the federal army, they could no longer hope to live in peace and safety. the men who had visited them on this occasion, were evidently strangers in the neighborhood, and were, no doubt, a scouting or foraging party, who had stopped more from a want of having anything else to do, than from a desire to do them any injury. they, however, knew, that from those in their own vicinity, there was much more to be feared; and of one person in particular, they stood in especial dread. that person was dan mccowan, the man whose name was mentioned by mary harcourt, in her warning to her father, only a moment before the soldiers, had entered their dwelling. dan mccowan was a man who for years had pursued the detestable calling of a negro-hunter. he was about thirty-five years of age, tall, of an ungainly form, and slightly stoop-shouldered; his hair and eyes were dark, and his complexion as swarthy as an indian. his features, naturally coarse and repulsive, were rendered still more so, by being bronzed and hardened by long-continued exposure to the weather. his only associates and his most intimate friends appeared to be his blood-hounds, which he used in hunting and bringing back to their masters, the poor negroes who were seeking to escape from a life of continued toil and bondage. the following unique hand-bill, which he used to post up in various places over the country, will serve to show the nature of his business, and also the vast amount of intelligence necessary to carry it on. no tis. the undersind taiks this methed of makkin it none that he has got the best nigger hounds in the state, and is always redy to ketch runaway niggers at the best rates. my hounds is well trained, and i heve hed yeres experience. my rates is dollurs per hed if ketched in the beate where the master lives; dollurs in the coonty, and dollurs out of the coonty. dan mccowan. n. b. planters should taik panes to let me know, while the niggers tracks is fresh, if they want quick work and a good job. it is scarcely necessary to say that his services were frequently employed to catch and bring back the poor runaways, and more than once had the harcourt family been awakened in the night by his hounds, as they made the woods echo with their baying. often had they pictured to themselves the terror of the poor wretches, over whose trail, with unerring scent, swept the monsters, who would tear them limb from limb, and whose only choice was death at their hands or the old life of labor and the lash. mr. harcourt was a strong anti-slavery man. holding these views, he had ever spoken consistently against slavery. he was also a man of deeds, as well as words, for many a poor fugitive had been assisted by him on his long and perilous journey northward in search of friends and the freedom he craved. owing to these proclivities, and to the fact that he had never taken pains to conceal his views, a mutual antipathy had long existed between mr. harcourt and dan mccowan, the nigger-hunter. while the latter had no direct proofs, yet he had long suspected mr. harcourt of being a friend to, and a sympathizer with the very runaways whom it was his business to catch and return to the bondage they were endeavoring to escape from. notwithstanding his dislike for the father, however, the fellow had conceived a violent attachment for mary harcourt, his daughter, and for a year past had greatly annoyed not only the poor girl herself, but the whole family, by his uncouth attentions. finally, mr. harcourt told him plainly that his attentions to his daughter were extremely distasteful to her, and added a polite, yet firm request, that he cease his troublesome visits. mary, who was a young lady of sweet and lovely disposition, possessing both intelligence and refinement, shrank from the fellow as she should from a viper in her path; while his odious attempts to lavish his unsought affections upon her so disgusted and frightened her that she always avoided his presence. dan mccowan, however, was just the man, when thwarted in his plans, to at once take steps for revenge. for some time he had kept a close espionage of the house and the movements of its inmates. he had somehow obtained possession of the knowledge that young harcourt was in the union army, and he determined to use this in his well-laid plans to persecute the poor girl, who had been so unfortunate as to have been the object of his passion. on the day following the incidents just related, mary, who had been spending the afternoon with a neighbor's family, towards evening was returning to her home, when she was suddenly and most unexpectedly confronted by dan mccowan. so startled was she by this unlooked-for meeting, that she involuntarily gave a slight scream, as she recognized who it was that stood before her. "i see as how i have skeered you right smart now," said the fellow, grinning in her face with a wicked leer. "your father told me as how he would be much obliged to me if i would stop my visits to his house, which, bein' a gentleman, i was bound to do, and as i had a little something to say to you, i thought this would be the time to say it." the girl, who had now somewhat recovered her composure, yet fully realizing the character of the man with whom she had to deal, stood quietly looking him full in the face, and said, in a tone that betrayed her contempt, "i suppose i must listen to you, sir, but be brief, as it is getting late, and my folks will be uneasy at my long absence." "well, miss harcourt," he replied, "i will come to the point at once. you have a brother, who has been away from home fur some time. do you know where he is?" mary was silent, and he muttered, half to himself, "i thought so; the whole family are traitors. no more than is to be expected from these d--d abolitionists. i can tell you where he is," he continued; "he is on the other side, and fighting against the south." "and what if he is in the federal army? he is fighting for the government you and yours are seeking to destroy," answered the spirited girl. "it don't matter much to me which side he fights on; but suppose i tell it around, that he is fighting with the yankees, do you think it would matter to you then?" [illustration: "_while she was struggling in his grasp, he was startled by a violent clutch upon his collar from behind._" p. .] "my brother is his own man," replied mary, "and he alone is responsible for his acts; surely they would not harm my father and us for that; and surely you would not tell what you know, to injure us?" "that depends on you, miss mary," the fellow replied, now approaching closer, and attempting to take her hand. "what do you mean, you scoundrel?" demanded the girl, drawing back, while the fire flashed from her eyes. "don't offer to touch me, dan mccowan, or i'll----" "what would you do, now?" he exclaimed; and, before she was aware of his intentions, he had sprang quickly forward, seized her about the waist, and placed one hand over her mouth, but not until she had given one long and piercing call for help. the fellow's base designs were evident, and that he would have been successful there is no doubt; but help, fortunately, was at hand. while he was yet struggling with the girl, he felt a violent clutch on his collar, from behind, and before he could see from whence it came he was thrown violently to the ground, and was writhing under the well-directed kicks, which were most lavishly bestowed upon him by the new-comer, who was no less a personage than my operative george curtis. the girl had sank to the ground almost fainting from fright, but so enraged was curtis at the scene he had witnessed, that he continued to shower his kicks on the miserable wretch, who roared and begged for mercy, until the girl interposed, and begged him, for her sake, not to kill him, but to desist, and let him go. at this my operative ceased, more, however, from mere lack of breath than from a feeling that the fellow had been sufficiently punished, and allowed him to regain his feet. "you contemptible, cowardly brute," he exclaimed, as mccowan arose; "i have a mind to finish you, while i have my hand in. miss," he continued, turning to the girl, "i am happy to have arrived in time to be of service to you. i do not know anything about this difficulty, but from what i saw, i concluded that i had not time to make any inquiries." "i am very grateful to you, sir, for what you have done in saving me from that villain. look out!" she exclaimed, "he has a pistol." curtis turned his head in time to see the fellow in the act of drawing a revolver. quicker than a flash, his own weapon was in his hands, and covering the man, he said, coolly: "drop your hands, you hell-hound, or i will blow you to atoms in a second." the fellow saw that he was foiled, and dropped his hands at his sides. curtis advanced and disarmed him; then, stepping back a pace, he said: "go now while i am in the humor to let you; another move like that, and i will shoot you as i would a dog." mccowan reluctantly obeyed, and slunk away muttering threats of vengeance. my operative, however, paid no attention to him now, but turned to the young lady who proceeded to relate the circumstance of her meeting with mccowan, from which his timely interference had saved her, and ended by a cordial invitation, blushingly given, that he would accompany her home, and spend the night under her father's roof. as he was anxious to find a lodging-place for the night, at any rate, the detective gratefully accepted the invitation, feeling such an interest in this really beautiful girl that he could not resist the desire to cultivate further the acquaintance, so strangely begun. he hastily brought his horse from where he had left him by the roadside, and leading him by the bridle, walked by the side of his companion until they reached the house. as they strolled along, mary frankly told him the secret of mccowan's attack, and proceeded to explain the man's character, and the detestable nature of the business in which he was engaged. by this time, they had reached her father's house, where they were met at the gate by the old gentleman himself, who was alarmed and anxious at his daughter's absence so far beyond her usual time for return. "father," said the girl, "this is"--here she paused, visibly embarrassed, and gazed timidly into the face of the detective. "pardon me," said curtis hastily, seeing the cause of her confusion; "my name is george curtis; we have been so busy talking that i had not thought of names." she then introduced them, and briefly related to her father the cause of her detention, and her adventure with mccowan, not forgetting to mention the part my operative had played in her timely rescue from the villain's hands. the old man thanked him again and again, and so profusely, that curtis begged that he would not mention it, as he had done nothing more than any gentleman, under the same circumstances, would have done, gone to the lady's rescue at her call for help. his horse was ordered to be taken to the barn, and he himself was soon seated in the house, receiving the tearful thanks of good mrs. harcourt, and the object of the admiring gaze of mary's younger brother and sister, who regarded him as a hero, and a person who had no small claim on their affection and esteem. chapter xxx. _curtis again on his travels.--a loving episode.--dan mccowan again turns up.--the capture of curtis.--a fight for life, and escape.--a bit of matrimony._ the next day, my operative took his leave of the harcourt family, and continued on his way to richmond. he, however, gave them his promise, that he would visit them again before long, a promise he was in no wise loath to keep, as mary had joined her request to that of her father, that he should not fail to give them a call, when he was in their vicinity. the truth was my operative, who was a very excellent young man, and, notwithstanding his calling, susceptible to the charms of the fair sex, was not a little smitten by the fair mary, whom he had met under circumstances that would have caused even a less romantic person than himself to have fallen in love with her at once. on the other hand, the girl's feelings of gratitude and admiration for the young man, who had rescued her from mccowan's clutches, were those almost akin to love; but with true maidenly modesty, she simply treated him with that delicate courtesy that, while it showed plainly her high regard for him, yet it in no way overstepped the bounds of strict propriety. it was evident, however, that she regarded him as one who certainly had strong claims upon her friendship and esteem. bidding them good-bye, then, curtis took leave of the family, whom he had known but a single night, yet who, in that brief space, had grown to be like old acquaintances; and his regret on leaving them, was very much like that in parting from old and intimate friends. taking the route by glendale, he, towards evening, arrived at richmond, without any event worthy of notice, and put up at miller's hotel. a few weeks later found him on his return to the army of the potomac, and in his possession important dispatches that he had obtained in the rebel capital. as he left richmond, the news reached that city of the evacuation of yorktown by the rebels, and their retreat up the peninsula towards williamsburgh. the effect of these tidings was anything but encouraging to those who had hoped that a final and decisive battle would have been fought at yorktown, and the further advance of the union troops effectually checked. mcclellan's vigorous preparations, however, for a protracted siege, had decided the rebels that it would be useless to risk a battle here, and they consequently determined to evacuate the place, which they did on the fifth of may, and by noon of the same day mcclellan's army had broken camp and was in full pursuit. with such celerity did he make his movements, and so closely did he press the confederates, that on the following day they were compelled to make a stand, and here was fought the battle of williamsburgh, in which the rebels were defeated, and continued their retreat towards richmond. the army of the potomac now continued its advance, with all the rapidity the terrible condition of the roads would permit, having for its base of supplies the york river, until two weeks later it rested between the pamunkey and the chickahominy. it was at this stage of affairs on the peninsula, that curtis was on his return trip from richmond. with his passes in his pocket, his dispatches securely concealed about him, and his trusty horse as his only companion, he set out for his long ride to wilson's landing, and the headquarters of the union army. it was his purpose to stop by the way long enough to at least inquire after the health of the harcourt family, and learn how they had fared during his absence. so, pushing rapidly ahead, towards the close of what had been a beautiful day in may, he, near nightfall, found himself at farmer harcourt's door, where he was most cordially welcomed. his jaded horse was led to the barn to be watered and fed, while he was soon resting his tired limbs in an easy chair, while waiting a tempting supper that was almost ready for an appetite keenly whetted by his long and hard day's ride. his object now, was to stop long enough to rest himself and horse, and then push on by night and endeavor to reach the federal lines by daybreak. mr. harcourt informed him that they had not been molested by mccowan since his former visit, and that it was reported that he had formed a band of guerrillas, and at their head was pillaging and robbing the people in an adjoining county. "he is an unscrupulous villain," observed the old gentleman, "and i confess i stand in no little dread that he may pay us a visit at any time, in which case, if we escape with our lives, we may consider ourselves fortunate. i have," he added, "fully made up my mind to take my family, leave my home here, and, if possible, go north, where a man of my way of thinking can live in security and peace. if i were younger, i would enlist, myself, but my fighting days are past." "i trust you may soon be able to get away from here," said curtis; "and as the union army is now advancing up the peninsula, you can, i think, with little danger, make your way into its lines." he then informed him of the evacuation of yorktown, and of the retreat of the confederates, and advised him to hasten his arrangements to go north, while this opportunity afforded him a way to do so with safety. after the evening meal was over the family seated themselves on a pleasant little porch, that ran along one side of the old-fashioned house, facing the west, and in the deepening twilight they sat and talked over the trying times, and united in their wishes for a speedy termination of the fratricidal conflict. thus the evening passed until near ten o'clock, when my operative informed his friends that he must take his departure, as he was determined, if possible, to reach the union lines by daybreak. the whole family urged him to pass the night with them; but finding him bent on going, his horse was ordered to the door, and he prepared to take his leave. he shook hands with the good farmer and his wife, and looked anxiously around for mary; surely she would bid him good-bye before he went away, but she was nowhere to be seen. he even lingered a few moments, hoping she would return; she did not, however, put in an appearance; so, leaving his regards for her with her parents, he mounted his horse, and with a heavy heart rode along down the long, narrow lane that led from the house to the main road. he could not understand why the girl should have absented herself just as he was taking his leave; could it be that he had in any way offended her, that she should avoid him on purpose? revolving the matter in his mind, and feeling that hereafter he would take pains to avoid the harcourt mansion, he now approached the terminus of the lane, still buried in thought, when his horse, becoming frightened, shied slightly to one side; hastily raising his eyes, he saw, to his amazement, the object of his thoughts standing by the roadside. he checked his horse, and, in a tone that betrayed his astonishment, exclaimed, "you here, miss mary!" "yes," she answered, evidently a little confused, "i wanted to see you a little while alone. i trust you will pardon me for adopting the means i have to secure a short talk with you." by this time curtis had dismounted, and was standing at her side. "well, what is it, miss harcourt? i am happy to be at your service in any way in my power." "thank you," she answered, hastily, "you have placed me under obligations to you, but i venture to-night to ask one favor more." "it is granted already," said curtis. thanking him again, she proceeded: "you know my brother is in the union army, and i have not heard from him for several weeks; i wish you would try to get this letter to him, and, if it is not asking too much," she added, hesitatingly, "will you kindly bring me his reply, or at least some word that i may know he is safe and well?" curtis took the letter from her hands, and, depositing it safely in an inside pocket of his coat, he said "i will do my best to deliver the letter, and, should i not return soon with an answer, you may know something unavoidable has detained me." as he stood there, gazing earnestly into the sweet face of his fair companion, a sudden purpose to then and there declare his love for her came into his mind. with him, to resolve was to act; extending his hand, he took hers in a friendly clasp, and said: "miss harcourt, i am going to bid you good-bye, with the hope of seeing you again very soon; but i will not conceal from you the fact, that, in the fortunes of war, it is possible that we may never meet again. under these circumstances, then, i make bold to tell you to-night something that, ordinarily, i would not mention until your longer acquaintance with me would make it appear more proper, at least so far as society rules are concerned. "miss harcourt," he continued, still holding the hand that now lay passively in his, "in the short time i have known you i have learned to love you, and i am confident time only will strengthen that love. i do not ask your answer now; when we meet again, if we do, you can tell me my fate. if your answer then should be nay, i will try to bear it like a man, respecting you none the less even if i fail to win the love i would so highly prize. good-bye, darling!" and lightly pressing her hand to his lips, he threw himself into his saddle, and giving his noble animal the rein, dashed away, leaving miss harcourt standing in a half-dazed manner, straining her eyes after his figure, that in the pale moonlight was rapidly disappearing from her view. curtis now set off for the headquarters of the union army. our friend pushed on, and shortly after midnight arrived at the landing, and from here faced about to the east, and in the direction of williamsburgh, where the union army, victorious in the battle just fought, were encamped. he now slackened his speed somewhat, to rest his jaded steed, and, dropping the reins, allowed him to take a moderate walk, while he himself fell into a deep reverie over the events of his trip. on this occasion he had been very successful in his work in the rebel capital, and had, so far, effectually escaped any suspicion as a spy. considering the watchful vigilance that at this time was maintained by the rebels, curtis had indeed done well; and it was with feelings of thorough satisfaction that now, near the close of his arduous journey, and when he felt reasonably secure from being molested, that he relaxed somewhat his usual vigilance, and allowed himself and animal a much needed rest. he was not, however, destined to get through so easily as he had anticipated. as he entered a small clump of timber, and while he was unsuspecting any danger at this nearness to the union camp, two mounted men suddenly made their appearance from the side of the road, and from where they had been concealed in the bushes, and, holding their cocked weapons at his head, commanded him to halt. at the same instant, men came pouring in from both sides of the woods, that here skirted his path, and almost before he could realize his situation, or who were his assailants, he was overpowered, taken from his horse, and securely bound. he soon discovered his captors were a band of guerillas, who had been quartered in the grove, and he had by the merest chance stumbled right into their midst. while he was quickly debating in his mind his chances for escape, and his probable fate at their hands, he was led into the presence of the captain of the band, who, with a few of his followers, had evidently been sleeping about a camp-fire that had now burned low, leaving only a bed of glowing embers, that cast a faint light on the swarthy faces of the rough-looking men that now grouped yawningly about it awaiting his coming. "who have you here," asked the captain, as the party escorting curtis came up. "don't know, capten," laconically answered one of the men; "we jest now found him and handed him in here without askin' him enny questions; but here he is, you can talk to him yourself." curtis was now unbound, and led forward, and stood facing the captain. as their eyes met, the recognition was mutual and instantaneous; in the man that stood before him, my operative recognized no less a personage than dan mccowan, the man whom he had so unmercifully drubbed on a former occasion, which has already been described. at the same moment, mccowan saw who it was that had so unexpectedly fallen into his hands, and with a wicked laugh and a horrible oath, he sprang forward, and clutching him by the throat, exclaimed: "by g--d, i have been looking for you for some time; it is my turn now." it was evident that the fellow in his rage meant murder; but curtis, who was both brave and cool, besides being strong and active, wrenched loose from his grip, and springing hastily backward, he dealt him, with the rapidity of lightning, a powerful blow between the eyes, that felled him like an ox. then, before the lookers-on could scarcely realize what had taken place, he leaped over the form of the prostrate man, and disappeared in the darkness of the wood. the captain by this time regained his feet, and showering curses upon his men for a pack of cowardly idiots, started off in pursuit, followed by a half a score of his fellows, who now, in order to conciliate their enraged leader, determined to retake the detective at all hazards. fortunately for curtis, he had been allowed to retain his weapons, and being fleet of foot, he had but little to fear. he soon succeeded in eluding his pursuers, and, shortly after daylight, found his way into the union camp. he then reported to me with his dispatches from richmond, and related his adventures here recorded. i ought to state, however, that he did not, at that time, inform me of his proposal to miss harcourt; but after remaining with me until the close of the war, during which time he made many trips to and fro between richmond and the headquarters of the federal army, after the struggle was ended and we both had retired to the life of a citizen, he, as a salesman in a business house in chicago, i to my business as a detective in the same city, then it was he related the story of his courtship, and the manner in which he wooed and won the woman who was then, and still is, his wife. as for the harcourt family, they made their way to the north, by the aid of my operative and young harcourt, and the courtship between curtis and the daughter was kept up until the close of the war, when they were married. i will also say, that they are still living happily together, surrounded by an interesting family of children, who with childlike eagerness clamber on their papa's knees to hear him tell them stories of the war, and his adventures before they were even born, a period that to them seems ages and ages ago. dan mccowan was killed in an attack that his party, led by him, made on a band of our scouts, shortly after the occurrence of the incidents described in this chapter. i would fain have dwelt longer on the work of young curtis, and noted more minutely the importance of his labors in the secret service, but a lack of space and time compel me here to drop him with the passing comment, that he was an excellent operative, and that he so faithfully and efficiently did his work, that the subterranean headquarters, with its corps of operatives, never did the union cause any practical harm, but a great deal of good, in furnishing intelligence of the movements and intentions of the rebel forces. [illustration: night on the battle-field.] chapter xxxi. _mcclellan and his enemies.--the peninsula campaign.--the rebel forces before richmond.--the union forces outnumbered by the enemy, and their commander hampered by superiors.--an honest opinion._ it is not my purpose to attempt to detail the various movements of the army, to describe the battles which were fought, or to chronicle the victories and defeats which were achieved and sustained by the brave soldiers who fought under the flag of the union. that duty belongs to the historian; mine simply to relate the experiences of my own men in the delicate, dangerous and laborious duties which devolved upon them. far less is it my desire to enter into a discussion upon the various subjects that have, since that fratricidal conflict, engrossed the attention of the student of history. i trust, however, that i may be pardoned, if, for a time, i depart from the main narrative and devote a brief space to the consideration of that much discussed subject, the campaign of the peninsula. i make no pretension whatever to being a military scholar, nor in any sense a military man, but my connection with the government during the war, and participation in the movements of the army of the potomac, together with my long and intimate acquaintance with its commander, general mcclellan, may entitle me to a brief expression of my own views of that campaign. i may be pardoned, also, if i attempt to ascribe to their proper source, some of the causes which contributed largely to the disasters that attended it. there can be no doubt of the fact, that the young commander-in-chief was subjected to the persecutions of the most malignant political intriguers, who feared that his growing popularity would result in political exaltation. taking advantage of the fact, therefore, that general mcclellan was an avowed democrat, a scheming cabal was working to weaken his influence with the people by vague insinuations against his loyalty to the union cause. to further that end, his plans, so carefully and intelligently matured, for the speedy crushing of the rebellion, were either totally disregarded by an unfriendly cabinet, or were so frequently thwarted, that to successfully carry them out was an utter impossibility. as i have always been a faithful adherent of the maxim, "speak the truth, though the heavens fall," and believing it to be a doctrine, that if practically carried, will right all wrongs, uphold the innocent, administer censure where deserved, and praise where it is due, i have invariably attempted to form my judgment of my fellow-men upon their own intrinsic merits. whatever may have been his faults as a man, his mistakes as a general, he was throughout unflinchingly loyal to the cause of the north. with him it was but one sentiment, and one ambition--to whip the rebels into subjection--and manfully did he perform his duty toward the accomplishment of that object. much of the censure which has been heaped upon him and his conduct as commander of the army of the potomac, is due to a hasty and inconsiderate judgment of the man and his motives, or the result of direct prejudice and ill-will. in the eyes of his critics his great fault lay in what they considered his inexcusable delay in moving against the enemy in the spring of , after, as they supposed, he had ample time to prepare his army for the field. from this point began the open and unfriendly criticisms which were designed to excite an impatient people, who did not, and could not, understand why active operations were not at once begun. this delay was adroitly used by scheming politicians to cast the shadow of disloyalty upon a man, who never for one moment entertained a disloyal thought, nor performed a single action which he did not believe would redound to the credit and honor of the union troops, and of the government which he served. my acquaintance with general mcclellan began before the war, and when he was the vice-president of the illinois central railroad. that corporation had, on frequent occasions, employed my services in various operations affecting their interests, and in this way i first met and became associated with the general. from this date began my warm regard for the man, which, during the many years that have passed, has known no diminution. i knew the man so well, and my confidence in his integrity and patriotism was so thorough, that a doubt of his loyalty never entered my mind. many of my old-line abolition friends went so far as to reproach me for my steadfast adherence to mcclellan, and accused me of abandoning my principles. i, however, knew my own ground, and held it. i knew that the general was not an abolitionist, but that he was not a patriot i could not believe for a moment. i have always thought, and my opinion remains unchanged to this day, that had he been left free to carry out his plans in the peninsula campaign, the army of the potomac would have escaped the disasters that befell it; richmond would have been reduced, and occupied by the federal troops; and victory instead of defeat would have crowned their heroic efforts from the river to the rebel seat of government. "how do you account for general mcclellan's 'masterly inactivity' during all these months that his army lay at washington?" is asked. ah, there is the mistake. it was anything but inactivity, and it is beginning to be pretty generally understood now what he was doing at that time. more than one writer on the campaigns of the civil war, has taken occasion to say that the splendid achievements of the army of the potomac at subsequent periods, and under other commanders, were mainly due to the careful drilling and the rigid discipline inculcated under mcclellan. at the time he was called to the command of the army it was nothing better than a band of disorganized men, who had not recovered from the defeat of bull run, and whatever efficiency it attained, was accomplished by the indefatigable efforts of general mcclellan and the officers under his command. the south, at the outbreak, was far better prepared for war than the north. for months preceding the election of mr. lincoln the people of the south were secretly preparing for a struggle. they had even then determined, if beaten by the ballot, to resort to the bayonet, and to decide upon the battle-field the questions which they failed to settle by fair discussion and honest legislation in the national congress. the people of the north, on the contrary, being so long accustomed to submit to the expressed will of the majority, apprehended no danger. while they were keenly alive to the important nature of the issues presented in the campaign, they did not dream that the new party, if successful, would have a gigantic civil war on its hands as the result of its triumph in a contest peaceably decided by the silent yet all-powerful ballot. resting in this fancied security from danger, the war was a surprise, for which they were but illy prepared. i need not detail the situation of affairs when the news flashed over the wires that fort sumter was fired upon. suffice it do say, that the south was up in arms, in full preparation almost, before the north could realize that war was at hand. the first great battle of the war was fought, and the union troops suffered a most humiliating defeat, falling back in disordered crowds upon washington, and at this time general mcclellan took command and brought order out of chaos. the community did not seem to consider, or to understand, that it was necessary to spend so much time in drilling the troops and making elaborate preparations for the field. but the commanding officer was too good a general to imitate the impetuous actions of his predecessors, and to make an aggressive campaign with raw and undisciplined troops. it was in consequence of this, that months were spent in the patient and persistent task of properly organizing, drilling and equipping his men for the field, and in the spring of , when the army did move, in the language of the general, it was one "from which much was to be expected." unfortunately, however, at the very outset, the general and the president had each matured a plan for the conduct of the war, and, in many respects, these were diametrically opposed to each other. at this point the question might be asked, whose plan should have been followed? by the constitution, the president is the commander-in-chief of all the armies and the navy of the united states, and is, of course, _ex-officio_, the highest military authority in the land. "but if a president disclaims all knowledge of military affairs," as president lincoln did, "it then becomes a question how far he should defer the conduct of a war to his appointed commander-in-chief, who is supposed to be chosen on account of his skill and sagacity in military matters, and upon his presumed fitness for the position." in president lincoln's hesitation between the advice of his generals in the field, and the views urged by his cabinet lay the foundation of many of the blunders and mistakes of the war, the trouble being, as one writer affirms, that "instead of one mind, there were many minds influencing the management of military affairs." as the result of this there was a lack of concert and action between the two heads of the military department, and at the critical period of the campaign, mcdowell's forces were held at washington when mcclellan expected him to re-enforce the army of the potomac. notwithstanding all that has been said and written upon this subject, i have no hesitation in expressing the opinion, that had not the president and his advisors, stood in such ungrounded fear for the safety of washington, and had not withheld mcdowell's forces at a time when their absence was a most serious blow to the plans of general mcclellan, the close of the year would have seen the rebellion crushed, and the war ended. at the commencement of the campaign i had an interview with general mcclellan, and he expressed the utmost confidence in his ability, provided his plans were fully supported and carried out, to gain the objective point of the war, and to accomplish the reduction of the rebel capital. my force of operatives had been diligently at work in procuring what information that was possible of attainment, of the numbers of the enemy, and with such success that in march i was able to report the approximate strength of the rebel army at , men, apportioned about as follows: at manassas, centerville and vicinity, , " brooks' station, dumfries, &c., , " leesburg, , in the shenandoah valley, , ------- total, , in gaining this important information, timothy webster, pryce lewis, john scobell and a host of other efficient members of my force, some of whom have already been mentioned in these pages, deserve especial credit for their sleepless energy in prosecuting the work that had been assigned to them. on the th of april the forward movement was made, and the siege of yorktown was begun. the result of this siege the student of history already knows, a simple detention of the army of the potomac, until the enemy could occupy and fortify richmond. here is where mcclellan suffered from the detention of mcdowell at washington--he had prepared a plan with mcdowell as one of its principal actors, and with that force withdrawn, the general's intentions were not only radically interfered with, but seriously deranged. during this time the rebel army was being daily reinforced and strengthened, until, by june th, its numbers were swelled to nearly , effective men. mcclellan, on the contrary, starting as he did, with a smaller army than he thought was necessary to cope with the enemy, found himself, when before their fortifications, after being deprived of mcdowell's division, with an army of less than , effective troops. another element in this campaign must not be lost sight of. the navy, whose co-operation and assistance had been promised and relied upon, was unable to aid him at all. can it be wondered at, therefore, that his plans, however well laid, and whatever their merits, viewed from a military stand-point, or the stand-point of common sense, failed in their execution. one writer, in speaking of the treatment of general mcclellan, has well said: "a general of high spirit and sensitive soul might have found in the government's action the occasion for sending in his resignation; but general mcclellan continued in command, accepted the situation, and endeavored to make the best of it." and still another has said, although inclined to be partial and unfair, in his account of the battles of antietam and fredericksburg: "his capacity and energy as an organizer are universally recognized. he was an excellent strategist, and, in many respects, an excellent soldier. he did not use his own troops with sufficient promptness and vigor to achieve great and decisive results, but he was oftener successful than unsuccessful with them; and he so conducted affairs that they never suffered heavily without inflicting heavy loss upon their adversaries. it may appear a strange statement to follow the other matter which this volume contains, but it is none the less true, that there are strong grounds for believing that he was the best commander the army of the potomac ever had." concluding a comparison, that redounds much to the credit of general mcclellan, both as a soldier and a patriot, the same writer says: "a growing familiarity with his history as a soldier, increases the disposition to regard him with respect and gratitude, and to believe, while recognizing the limitations of his nature, that his failure to accomplish more was partly his misfortune, and not altogether his fault." general mcclellan knew much better than some of his self-appointed critics the numbers and strength of the enemy. he knew from the reports of the secret service that the general estimate of the rebel army at, and around richmond, was far below their real numbers. my shrewd and daring operatives, men and women trained for the work, moved in and out among the rebel troops at all times and places. from actual observation they gathered the location, character and strength of their fortifications, and from actual count the estimates were made of the numerical strength of the opposing army. suffice it to say, that i knew of my own knowledge, and general mcclellan knew from the reports i laid before him, the fearful odds against which he had to contend in the bravely fought but disastrous campaign of the peninsula.[c] footnotes: [c] see detailed statement in appendix. chapter xxxii. _webster's expedition.--his gallantry.--a stormy passage.--a mysterious package.--treason discovered and punished._ it was christmas morning, in washington, and the bells were ringing merrily throughout the city. the sun was just peeping over the hills, and lighting up the winter landscape with a beauty and brilliancy that would defy the skill of an artist. washington was alive with soldiers. throughout the city the military was the predominating element, and for miles around the country was dotted with the white tents that marked the encampments of the country's defenders. thousands of muskets gleamed in the morning light, as with the rattle of the drum or the shrill blast of the bugle, the _reveille_ awoke the hills and valleys from the death-like silence and slumber of the night. the union army was encamped around the capital, and general mcclellan was in command. for months the process of drilling and disciplining the volunteer troops had been going on under his watchful eye and masterful hand, and the "army of the potomac" was rapidly approaching a degree of efficiency that was eminently calculated to make them formidable adversaries to their reckless and determined enemies. this morning, at my headquarters on i street, timothy webster was engaged in completing his arrangements for another extended journey into rebeldom. by this time he had succeeded in thoroughly ingratiating himself into the favor of the rebel authorities, and at the war department in richmond he was regarded as a trusted emissary of the confederate government. upon the trips which he had previously made he had carried numerous letters from northern residents to their secessionist relatives in the south, and then, upon returning, he had delivered communications from southern people to individuals north of the line. of course these letters and communications, before being delivered to the parties to whom they were addressed, were first submitted to the inspection of trusted employees of my office, and anything which tended to convey information of the movements and intentions of the southern leaders was carefully noted, and the federal authorities duly notified. by this means a double purpose was served. webster not only won the entire confidence of the southern authorities, but he was very frequently the bearer of important dispatches, whose contents were often valuable to the northern leaders. after finishing his preparations, webster came into my room, where mr. bangs and i were seated, and announcing his readiness to start, inquired if i had any further orders for him. "i am ready now, major," said he, cheerily, "have you any further commands?" "no, webster," said i, "i believe everything has been carefully arranged, and i have no commands to give except for you to take good care of yourself." "i'll try to do that," he replied with a laugh, and then, tapping his breast lightly, where his letters were sewed into the lining of his waistcoat, "i will take care of my mail too." with a warm clasp of the hand, and a hearty good-bye, webster went out into the bright sunlight and frosty air of a winter's morning, and was soon lost to view. procuring a conveyance, webster left washington, passing the guards without difficulty, and made his way toward leonardstown, in maryland. this journey was accomplished without event or accident, and early on the following morning, he drove up before the hotel, and was warmly greeted by john moore, the landlord of the hostelry at that place. this moore was a strong secessionist at heart, although openly professing to be a union man, and regarding webster as a southern emissary his greeting was always cordial, and his hospitality unstinted. the air was cold and frosty, and riding all night in a stagecoach, which was far from being weather-proof, webster was chilled through when the stage stopped before the comfortable inn of john moore. very soon, however, a jug of steaming punch, and the genial warmth from a fire of crackling logs in the large open fire-place, were instrumental in loosening the stiffened joints of my tired operative, and contributing materially to his comfort. "well, john," said webster at length, "what is the prospect for crossing the river to-night?" "we can't cross here at all any more, webster," replied moore, with an oath; "the damned yankees are too sharp for us." "is there no way of getting over about here at all?" asked webster, somewhat troubled at the unexpected information. "there's a way for some people," replied moore with a laugh, and a significant wink, "and i guess you are included in the number." "all right," said webster, immeasurably relieved, "but how do we manage it?" "well," replied moore, "you will have to go up to cob neck, and then i will see that you are taken care of." cob neck is a point of land extending out from the main shore, about fourteen miles distant from leonardstown, and was very well adapted for the purpose in view. on each side of the point, or neck, there was a wide bay or inlet where a boat could put out, and the ground, which was soft and marshy, was completely covered with a growth of pine thickets and underbrush, which prevented the placing of vigilant pickets at this point. being perfectly acquainted with the locality named, webster had no fears of being able to get safely across the potomac into virginia, and then continuing his way to the rebel capital. "by the way," said moore, "i have a favor to ask of you, webster." "well," replied webster, "anything i can do will be cheerfully done for you, moore." "i know that, webster," said moore, heartily, "and there is no one in the world i would rather oblige than you. the fact is, i have got two ladies here, who are wives of army officers, now stationed in richmond, they have been living north for some time, and are anxious to get to their husbands; they have three children with them, and i want you to take charge of the party, and see them safely on their way." "i'll do that with pleasure," replied webster, "and i'll take good care of them, too." that night, about nine o'clock, a close-covered carriage was driven away from the hotel, in the direction of cob neck. john moore and timothy webster sat on the driver's seat, while within were the families of the rebel officers, who had been placed in my operative's charge. reaching their destination in safety, the party alighted, and walking out to the end of the point, moore uttered a shrill whistle, which was immediately answered in the same manner. soon they heard the splashing of oars, and in a few minutes a boat was discernable through the darkness, and the voice of a man called out: "here i am, cap'n! on time, as ye see." "all right, tom," replied moore, "i've got a party here that you must take good care of." "very well, cap'n, i'll do the best i can, but i'm afraid the wind ain't right for landin' on t'other side." "well," said moore, "you must do your best, and i guess you will get over all right." the night was dark and cold, the wind was blowing sharp and chill, and heavy clouds were shifting overhead. the river was running swiftly, and was of that inky blackness that invariably presages a storm. the wind through the low pines was sighing like a human being in distress, and the ladies gazed fearfully and shudderingly at the dark waters and the frail craft which was to carry them to the opposite shore. webster uttered words of courage and assurance to the shrinking ladies, and assisted in comfortably bestowing them in the boat, and then, with a parting salutation to john moore, the boat pushed off from the shore. after getting clear of the land they hoisted sail, and were soon flying rapidly over the water, before the driving wind. as the wind was against them, they were obliged to make short and frequent tacks, and thus their approach to the opposite shore was accomplished by slow and labored degrees. the ladies were huddled together in the stern, clasping their frightened children nervously in their arms, while webster, active and alert, rendered such assistance in managing the boat as was in his power. "the storm's coming!" shouted the boatman, after a long silence, "and the women had better cover up." the storm came, sure enough. a blinding rain, icy cold, which beat pitilessly down upon the unprotected voyagers, while the little vessel rocked to and fro at the mercy of the dashing waves. the wind suddenly changed, the frail yacht gave a sudden lurch, and in a twinkling the keel of the boat was heard scraping upon the bottom of the river, and they were aground. they had been blown out of their course, and had drifted into the shallow water, a mile below their landing place, and within a hundred feet of the shore. without a moment's hesitation, webster bade the boatman lower his sail, and then, jumping into the water, which was waist deep, and as cold as ice, he took two of the children in his strong arms, and carried them safely to the river-bank. returning again, he assisted in carrying the ladies and the remaining child ashore, although he was so chilled that his lips were blue and his knees knocked together with the cold. the nearest place of shelter was a mile away, but unmindful of the cold and the pelting storm, webster cheered his companions by his hearty words, and bidding the boatman take care of one of the children, he picked up another, and the weary party set out to walk through the icy rain to the little hut, whose welcome light was gleaming in the distance. [illustration: "_webster took two of the children in his strong arms, and carried them safely to the bank._" p. ] thanks to a flask of good brandy, which webster fortunately had with him, the ladies were strengthened and sustained sufficiently to make the journey; and when they arrived at last at the comfortable cabin, their words of gratitude to webster were heartily and unstintingly uttered. after warming themselves before the fire, and drying their drenched and dripping garments as far as practicable, the ladies retired to another room, leaving webster, who, overcome with fatigue, was obliged to sleep in his wet clothing in the room to which they were first admitted. unmindful of himself, however, his only solicitude was for the ladies who had been placed in his charge, and after they had been comfortably disposed of, he prepared to take his own much-needed rest. he spread a blanket before the roaring blaze, and was about to stretch his weary limbs upon it, when he noticed, lying upon the floor, a short distance from him, a small packet, wrapped in oiled-cloth, and tied with red tape. it had evidently been dropped by one of the ladies, and its loss had escaped her notice. picking it up, he examined it carefully by the light of the fire, and to his surprise he found that it was directed to mr. benjamin, the rebel secretary of war. as "all things are fair in love and war," timothy lost no time in secreting the precious document about his own person. he had no objection at all to assisting two ladies to reach their husbands, even if they were enemies; but he objected decidedly to lend his aid to the forwarding of dangerous information to those who were fighting against the cause he held so dear. his conscience, therefore, gave him but little uneasiness as he pocketed the mysterious little packet, and with the resolve to discover its contents on the morrow, he stretched himself before the burning logs, and was soon sound asleep. the next morning, when he arose, his clothing was dry, but he experienced acute pains in his limbs, and a sense of weariness, that boded no good to his physical condition. ignoring his own ailments, however, he busied himself in securing the comfort of his charges, and after a hearty breakfast, the party set out upon their trip to richmond. they traveled for several miles in an ox-cart, and then by team, to a place called hop yard wharf, on the rappahannock river. here the party embarked on a steamboat, and traveled as far as fredericksburg, where webster was obliged to remain for two days, owing to an acute attack of rheumatism, which was caused by his exposure in behalf of the ladies, whose safety he had undertaken to insure. at this time he received a striking illustration of the gratitude which one earns by the performance of a kindly act of self-sacrifice. no sooner had the boat landed at fredericksburg, than these ladies expressed their impatient desire to push on directly to the rebel capital. notwithstanding webster's precarious condition, the danger in leaving him alone, and the fact that his sufferings had been occasioned by his efforts in their behalf, these high-toned southern dames, intent only upon their selfish pleasures, left him to his own resources, and without displaying the slightest interest in his welfare they went their way, and webster, unable to move himself, was obliged to depend upon the services of absolute strangers, for that care and attention of which he stood in so much need. [illustration: _webster discovers a mysterious package._ p. .] it was while he was detained at fredericksburg, that he seized the opportunity of examining the package, which had come into his possession in the little cabin at monroe's creek. removing the enfolding wrappers, he discovered that the contents of the bundle were complete maps of the country surrounding washington, with a correct statement of the number and location of the federal troops. several items of information were also conveyed, in regard to the probable intentions of the union commanders in the coming spring. from the nature of this information, it was evident that a trusted officer of the federal government was unfaithful to his duty, and was assisting the enemies of the country. webster congratulated himself upon the lucky chance which had thrown this little packet in his way, and he resolved to forward the same to me at the first opportunity that occurred. on the second day, though suffering severely, he was able to resume his journey, and taking the train at fredericksburg he was soon approaching the city of richmond. immediately upon his arrival, he repaired to the office of the secretary of war, and delivered the letters which he had brought with him from the north, and which were to be forwarded to their various addresses by the confederate authorities. mr. benjamin warmly congratulated webster upon his success in passing through the union lines, and for the information which he brought. he furnished him with passports, which would enable him to journey unrestricted and unquestioned throughout the southern dominions, and requested a further interview at a later day. leaving the war department, he went to the monumental hotel, where he engaged a room for himself, and where he found mrs. lawton, who had remained in the city during his absence. mrs. lawton informed webster that she had just received a visit from mr. stanton, another of my operatives, who had arrived in richmond from nashville, tenn., and that he was going to attempt to leave for washington that night. this was a lucky chance, and webster resolved to see stanton, and entrust to him the conveyance of the packet that had so fortunately come into his hands. knowing the places at which he would be most apt to be found, he made a tour of the city, and was at length fortunate enough to discover the man he was in search of. selecting a secluded place, webster confided his package to stanton, instructing him to deliver it to no one but myself under any circumstances, and then, feeling the need of rest, he went back to the hotel, and shortly afterward retired to bed. the next day he was unable to move. his sufferings were excruciating, and for weeks he was compelled to endure the agonies of an acute attack of inflammatory rheumatism, which confined him a prisoner to his bed. leaving webster at the monumental hotel, we will return to the movements of my operative, who had been delegated to deliver the package which webster had found. mr. stanton arrived safely in washington, and after rendering a report of his own observations upon his journey from nashville to washington, he produced this packet of webster's, a careful examination of its contents revealed to me the author of the treasonable communications. his name was james howard, a native of the south, and he was a clerk in the provost-marshal's office. i had frequently seen his handwriting, and knew it perfectly. there could be no possibility of mistake about this, and i lost no time in laying before the commanding officer, the proof of the suspected man's guilt. howard was confronted with the evidence against him, and finding it impossible to deny the truth, he confessed his treason, and implicated several others in the conspiracy. before the shades of night had fallen over the tented city, james howard, and his treasonable confederates, were placed within the enfolding walls of the old capital prison, and behind iron bars were left to meditate upon the heavy price they had paid for an attempt to betray their country. [illustration: "hail columbia!"] chapter xxxiii. _activity in washington.--webster's journey through the south.--his return to the capital._ during the month of january, , i was actively engaged in the city of washington. with a part of my force, i was acting in conjunction with general andrew porter, the provost-marshal of the district, while the remaining portion was assisting general mcclellan in obtaining reliable information about the topography of the southern country, and of the number and disposition of the southern troops. almost every day witnessed some incident of importance to the national cause, and my time was fully occupied with the numerous and responsible duties which necessarily devolved upon me. mr. george h. bangs, who is now the general superintendent of my agencies, was detailed to the headquarters of the army, while i remained in charge of my office on "i" street, although i was kept fully informed by daily reports of whatever transpired at both places. as may readily be imagined, my office was no sinecure. many times i was obliged to deprive myself of needed rest and sleep, engaged in laborious duties from early morn far into the waking hours of the succeeding day, and for weeks scarcely obtaining a peaceful night's slumber. the capital was filled with suspicious personages, with southern spies, and their northern allies, and frequently officers of the government, holding elevated positions, would be discovered in secret, but active correspondence with the rebel authorities. arrests were numerous, and the searching of suspected premises of almost daily occurrence, while the large number of men employed by me required constant and unceasing personal surveillance. in the army it was astonishing what rapid progress had been made in drilling and disciplining the large, and, for the most part, untried force of soldiery. the commanding general was engaged in perfecting his plans for a campaign against richmond, and in order to do this intelligently, much information was required of the condition of the country through which the army must pass, and of the number of the enemy he would be likely to encounter. the obstacles that must be overcome, the defenses which would impede his passage, and all the minutia of warlike particularities, were mainly left to be discovered by the men in the secret service department, of which i was the authorized leader, and responsible head. engaged in these duties the month of january passed away. numerous operatives had been dispatched into the hostile country before us, and had made their examinations, and returned, conveying to me and to the commanding general items of valuable information which could have been obtained in no other way. we will now follow the movements of timothy webster, whom we left in richmond struggling with his old and relentless enemy, the rheumatism. after a painful confinement to his bed for nearly a week, he was at last able to move about once more, and in a few days thereafter was strong enough to undertake a journey which he had been contemplating for some time. in company with one of the largest contractors for the rebel government, he left richmond for nashville, tennessee. mr. campbell, the contractor, was engaged in the purchase of leather and desirous of purchasing directly from the tanner, instead of depending upon the dealers, who might not be able to supply him in such quantities as he required. traveling with this gentleman, and armed as he was, with an all powerful passport from the secretary of war, webster would have every opportunity for making his observations without incurring the slightest suspicion. during this journey he traveled through knoxville, chattanooga and nashville, in tennessee, then to bowling green, in kentucky, and then, on his return, he passed through manassas and centreville, carefully noting in his passage through the country the number and condition of the various troops, the number and extent of batteries and fortifications, and eliciting an amount of information that seemed wonderful for one man to accomplish. he made the acquaintance of commanding officers, and conversed unreservedly with them upon the various matters connected with their divisions, and their movements, present and perspective. he carefully examined the fortifications that had been erected, and the number of guns they contained. he talked with the private soldier and the civilian, and in fact, on his return to richmond, was as well informed with regard to the military resources of the enemy as were the generals themselves. rejoiced at his success, and carefully noting what he had witnessed, webster prepared to return north. visiting the war department and the office of the provost-marshal, he received from mr. benjamin and general winder a large number of letters and several important commissions, which were to be delivered and attended to after he should arrive in washington and baltimore. leaving richmond, he safely passed the pickets and outposts of both federals and rebels, and reported to me. his trip had been a most important and successful one, and the information he brought was most invaluable. webster seemed as well pleased at his success as were either general mcclellan or myself, and after a short rest announced himself as quite prepared to make another journey to the south, whenever his services should be required. chapter xxxiv. _webster's last mission.--anxiety at his long absence.--no tidings of the faithful scout.--operatives sent in search of him.--webster ill in richmond._ in the latter part of january, , another packet of rebel mail matter had accumulated, and the various articles, which webster had agreed to purchase for the residents of richmond and vicinity, were ready for delivery, and webster prepared himself for another journey into the south. while in washington he had not experienced any painful reminders of his old disease, and he was impatient to be actively employed once more. accordingly, everything was arranged for his trip, and early one bright winter's morning he came, as was his custom, to bid me farewell. i often recall, and with an emotion that i cannot control, the appearance of timothy webster, as i saw him that day. brave, strong and manly, he stood before me. the merry twinkle in his eyes seemed to belie the sternness of the set lips, which were even now curved with a smile of good humor. no trace of fear or hesitancy was apparent in his manner. he seemed to be animated solely by an earnest desire to serve his country to the best of his ability. he well knew, as did i, that his journey lay through a hostile country; that danger was lurking everywhere around him, and that if his true character was discovered, the consequences would, no doubt, prove fatal to him. notwithstanding this, there was no quivering of the compact muscles, the hand that grasped mine was as firm as iron, and the brave heart that throbbed in his bosom was insensible alike to a thought of shrinking, or a desire to evade, the responsibility that devolved upon him. after a few words of necessary caution and with good wishes for his welfare and safe return, timothy webster took his departure, and went his way. i did not know then that i had looked upon his face and manly form for the last time, and no hint or warning of his subsequent fate came to me as i sat watching his retreating figure. but to this day, i can picture him with sentiments of pride, in his valor and services, and regrets, deep and heartfelt, for the brave man who but a few months afterwards laid down his life for his country. for some time previous to this journey of webster's, mrs. lawton had been located at leonardstown, where she had assiduously cultivated the acquaintance of the most important people in that locality, whose sympathies were with the southern cause, and whose assistance to webster and herself would be valuable in time of need. among this number was a man whose name was washington gough, a wealthy secessionist, who was one of the most active in his efforts to assist the southern blockade-runners in crossing over into virginia, and in eluding the watchfulness of the federal pickets. through her acquaintance with this man, mrs. lawton was enabled to acquire much valuable information from those who sought the aid of mr. gough in obtaining the facilities for reaching the rebel lines in safety. with gough, webster was a prime favorite, and so thoroughly had my operative ingratiated himself into the favorable opinion of this rebel gentleman, that any service which would be required would be performed without question or delay. mrs. lawton was invited to make the house of gough her home, while in leonardstown, and by her charms of manner and conversation proved a powerful ally to webster in the discovery of important secrets relating to the movements and intentions of the enemy. webster's footing with the rebel authorities was also firmly established, and every one of them with whom he came in contact yielded to the magic of his blandishments and was disposed to serve him whenever possible. an event which happened about this time fully justified this assertion. it appeared that during webster's absence from leonardstown, a gentleman by the name of camilear had crossed over the river, and although a noted secessionist in his own immediate vicinity, was not known to any one upon the other side of the water. he was accordingly arrested and placed in confinement. the appeals of his friends and relatives were unavailing in securing his release, and the captive chafed terribly under the burden of his captivity. at length, on webster's appearance, the matter was presented to him, and he was entreated by camilear's relatives to intercede in his behalf. he promised to do so, and indited a letter to the officer who had the prisoner in charge, requesting his release, and giving assurances of the man's fealty to the confederate government. in a few days the prisoner was returned to his home, and was informed by the officer, that only the protestations made by webster had been sufficient to accomplish his release. from the highest to the lowest, the confidence in webster was universal. on this last mentioned trip webster decided to take mrs. lawton with him, and having obtained my sanction to his proposition, he journeyed to leonardstown and communicated his wishes to the lady, who was nothing loath to accompany him. they accordingly made their preparations, and in the darkness of the night they made their way to the river-bank where an oyster boat was in waiting to cross the river. mrs. lawton wore an overcoat and felt hat belonging to webster, and to a casual observer appeared very masculine in her habiliments. the river was entirely clear of vessels, and the journey was made in perfect safety. as they neared the opposite bank the moon shone out brightly, and revealed the "pungy" to the rebel pickets, who were known by webster, and from whom he expected no interference or opposition. the lights on shore revealed the stations of these pickets, and as they were expecting his return webster called out loudly: "pickets! pickets!!" there was no response to this call, and to his dismay the lights were suddenly extinguished. the boatman was greatly frightened at this proceeding, and was in momentary dread of being fired upon; but webster reassured him, and continued his loud, but ineffectual calls for the guard. finding it impossible to attract the attention of those who should have been upon the lookout for him, webster assisted the boatman in landing their trunks, after which the "pungy" was pushed off from the shore, and soon afterwards disappeared in the darkness. webster and his companion wandered about for more than an hour, and it was nearly midnight when they came to a farm house, where their approach was heralded by the loud barking of numerous dogs, who were aroused by the unwonted presence of human beings, and were disposed to resent their approach. the noise of the dogs brought the farmer to his door, who demanded, in no very gentle terms, to know who they were, and what had brought them there at that unseasonable hour. in a few words webster explained the situation, and the genial farmer bade them welcome, and safely bestowed them for the night. they had scarcely retired, when they were aroused by a loud knocking at the door, which was discovered to have been made by the pickets from the adjoining camp, who demanded to know who the new-comers were, and stated that they had been ordered to bring them immediately before an officer of the guard, two miles away. "why didn't you tell them that, when they called out to you before?" inquired the farmer, in a contemptuous tone. "well we did not know who they were," answered the leader of the party, "and we did not think it was safe." "oho! you were afraid of them, were you, and ran away?" at this point, webster, who had heard the conversation, made his appearance at the door, and demanded to know what was wanted. the leader of the guard again explained his mission, and demanded that webster should accompany him to the camp. "tell your commander that i will not stir from this house until morning. my name is timothy webster. i am in the employ of the confederacy, and if you had answered my call, there would have been no difficulty." finding that webster was determined, the men went away, and left the household to their repose. the next morning webster reported at the camp, and requested to see major beale, the officer in command. he was informed, that this gentleman was stationed twenty miles away, and upon telegraphing to him, the answer was returned: "let webster go where he pleases." the day was cold and stormy, and the roads were in a wretched condition, but notwithstanding this webster pushed on to fredericksburg, and after delivering some letters and merchandise which he had brought for residents there, he pushed on to richmond. taking up their quarters at the hotel, they resolved to wait until the following day before commencing their operations. during the night, however, webster's malady returned, and he suffered terribly from his old enemy, the rheumatism. in the morning he was helpless, and unable to move. from this time, i heard nothing further from him directly, and for weeks was utterly ignorant of his movements or condition. i began to grow alarmed. hitherto, his visits had not occupied more than three or four weeks, and he had always succeeded in escaping suspicion, and evading being detained by either force through which he would necessarily be obliged to pass. as the days and weeks passed, and brought no tidings from him, my apprehensions became so strong that i resolved to send one or two of my men to the rebel capital, in order to ascertain the cause of his unusual and long-continued absence. my anxiety was equally shared by general mcclellan, with whom webster was a great favorite, and who placed the utmost reliance upon his reports. one evening, early in february, the general called upon me, and advised the sending of one messenger, or two, for the sole purpose of hunting up webster, or discovering some trace of him. i informed him that i had already considered the necessity of some such action, and was upon the point of submitting the matter for his approval. finding the general thus fully in accord with the proposition, i at once selected two of my men for this important mission. after mature consideration, i decided upon despatching price lewis and john scully upon this delicate quest. my reasons for this selection, were that both scully and lewis had been connected with other operations in baltimore, in company with webster, and had thus been enabled to form the acquaintance of a great number of secessionists in that city, some of whom had gone south, while others, who remained at home, had influential friends in richmond. during these operations, both lewis and scully had pretended the most earnest and sincere sympathy for the cause of the confederacy, and were known as ardent secessionists. this, i concluded, would materially assist them after reaching richmond, particularly if they should be fortunate enough to meet any of their old baltimore associates. they had also been engaged upon various investigations through the southern states, and especially in western virginia, where they had rendered good service in the early campaigns in that section of the country. i had, therefore, no doubt of their ability to perform the task assigned to them, and felt perfectly satisfied that they would perform their duties to the best of that ability. requesting their presence in my private office, i broached the matter to them, and submitted the question of their undertaking this task to their own election. upon operations of this kind, where there was danger to be incurred, where a man literally took his life into his own hands, and where death might be the result of detection, i invariably placed the question upon its merits, before the person selected for the mission, and then allowed him to decide for himself, whether he would voluntarily undertake its accomplishment. i did this for various reasons. in the first place, i felt very loath to peremptorily order a man upon an enterprize where there was every possibility of danger, for in the event of fatal result, i should be disposed to reproach myself for thus endangering the lives of those under my command. it is true, that under their terms of service, and by virtue of the authority vested in me, i had the undoubted right to issue such order; but i always preferred that my men should voluntarily, and without urging, signify their willingness to undertake hazardous missions. again, i have invariably found, that the ready and cheerful officer performs the most acceptable service, and that the absence of fear or hesitation are sure passports to success; while on the other hand, should there be timidity or unwillingness, or a disposition to avoid danger, success is rarely, if ever, attained. it is but just, however, to state that during my entire connection with the secret service of the government, i never found any of my men disinclined to undertake an operation that was delegated to them; but on the contrary, i always experienced the utmost cheerfulness and ready support from those who so valiantly served under my orders. nor was i disappointed in the present instance. on presenting the case, with all its attendant dangers, to price lewis and john scully, both of them signified, without the slightest hesitation, their voluntary desire to go to richmond, and to make the inquiries, which were considered of so much importance by both general mcclellan and myself. but few instructions, and very little preparation, were required for this journey, and in the afternoon both men were prepared to start. i did not deem it advisable to provide them with any goods, as was sometimes the case, in order to furnish an excuse for their blockade-running experiences, for the reason that their journey would be much delayed, owing to the impassability of many of the roads. i did, however, cause a letter to be written, apparently by a rebel spy, then in washington, and which was directed to webster. this letter introduced the two men to webster as friends of the south, and informed him that his old route back was no longer a safe one, owing to the presence of federal troops in that locality, and advising him to select some other and less hazardous one on his return to washington. i did this to guard against their being suspected and detained after reaching the rebel lines, as, upon presenting this, they would at once be known as southern emissaries, and given safe conduct to the capital. provided with this letter, and with full verbal instructions as to their manner of proceeding, they started from washington late on the evening of the th of february. as an additional safeguard, i sent along with them an operative by the name of william h. scott, who was well acquainted with the various federal commanders, and who was to see them safely across the potomac river. the three men departed in good spirits, and, though fully conscious of the danger before them, thoroughly resolved to successfully accomplish what they had undertaken. prior to despatching these men, i had some misgivings that there might be still remaining in richmond some of those families who, while residing in washington, had been suspected of sympathizing with, or furthering the cause of the confederacy, and whose papers had been seized, and themselves transported beyond the lines. among the most noted of these were the families of mrs. phillips, of south carolina, and of mrs. ex-gov. morton, of florida, who had been residing in richmond for a short time. to satisfy myself upon this point, i made extensive inquiries from deserters, refugees and contrabands, and learned, from a variety of sources, that mrs. phillips had gone to charleston, and that mrs. morton and her family had departed for their home in florida. believing my information to be reliable, i felt reassured, and then the men were selected. while these men were making their way to richmond, webster was suffering excruciating pain, confined to his bed, and unable to move. during all this time, he was carefully attended and nursed by my resident operative, mrs. hattie lawton, and through the long, weary days and sleepless nights, no patient ever had more careful nursing, or more tender consideration than did timothy webster, from the brave true-hearted woman who had dedicated her life and her services to the cause of her country and its noble defenders. this was the state of affairs on the last day of january, and when the information which webster had gained would have been of vast importance and benefit to the cause of the union, but which, lying an agonized invalid in a richmond hotel, he was unable to communicate to those who were anxiously awaiting his return. and now, leaving webster at richmond, and with price lewis and john scully on their way to the rebel capital, we will return to washington, and watch the events which were transpiring at the capital. [illustration: exchange of prisoners.] chapter xxxv. _mcclellan and the government.--lewis and scully arrested as spies.--an attempted escape.--trial and conviction.--condemned to die.--before the gallows their mouths are opened._ the month of february added its slowly passing days to those that had preceded it, and as yet no tidings were received from timothy webster, or from those who had gone in search of him. w. h. scott had returned, and reported that they had safely passed over the potomac river, and landed upon rebel soil, but further than this, i had no information that tended to allay my anxieties, or to give assurance of their safety. in the meantime, the troops around washington had not been idle. reconnoissances had been made from time to time, by the advance-guard of the army, and skirmishes with the enemy were of frequent occurrence. these movements were of great importance, not so much from the actual results of victories attained, as for the education which it imparted to the troops, in accustoming them to the presence of their foes, and giving them confidence while under fire. general mcclellan had completed his plans for the investment of the rebel capital, and the public mind was in a state of feverish anxiety and expectation for the forward movement of the troops. the popular cry of "on to richmond," was echoed from lip to lip throughout the entire country. every one, except those who knew and realized the danger and difficulties to be encountered and overcome, were filled with an enthusiasm which only regarded results and never considered the cost of their accomplishment. extravagant ideas of a struggle which should be "short, sharp and decisive," were the only ones entertained by the great army of "stay at homes," and the question of caution, foresight and sagacity was left to the consideration of those who must brave the dangers of the field, and face the deadly fire of their determined enemies. added to this a feeling of dissatisfaction began to display itself in high circles at washington. the delay, which general mcclellan wisely deemed necessary for the perfect equipment and education of his army, was being used as a pretext by those who envied the young commander, to detract from his reputation, and to impair the confidence which a united people had reposed in his loyalty and ability. the president was besieged by importunate cavillers the burden of whose refrain was the defamation of the hero of west virginia, and it is not surprising, however much to be regretted, that mr. lincoln gradually permitted their clamors to disturb him, and eventually partook of some of the distrust with which they endeavored to impress him. from a legitimate and wise desire to prevent an untimely divulgence of his plans, general mcclellan had, up to this time, kept his ideas and opinions to himself and confined his military discussions to but a few of his immediate officers, and those whom he had known and trusted for years. this manner of proceeding was not to the taste of some of the leading men in high places at that time, who deemed themselves as competent to confer with and advise the commanding general, as those whom he had chosen. in order to soothe their wounded self-pride they had recourse to a species of revenge not admirable, to say the least. they plied the ears of the president with comments derogatory to mcclellan, and with innumerable suggestions of pet schemes of their own conception, which would, in their opinion, undoubtedly end the war with surprising alacrity. the result of these onslaughts was, that mcclellan was required by mr. lincoln to unfold his own carefully arranged plans to a council of generals, for their consideration and approval. to this "wicked and ignorant clamor" he was obliged to yield, and it is not to be wondered at, that his proposed movements were betrayed, and that not long afterwards he was subjected to the mortification of having his army divided into corps, against his wishes, and their commanders appointed without consulting him, and without his knowledge. subsequently he was compelled to submit to having the conduct of the war in virginia placed in charge of inexperienced, irresponsible and jealous-minded officers, whose antipathy to him was as well known as it was unceasing and violent. notwithstanding all this, the general pursued his way. his army was organized, his plans prepared. the defense of washington was provided for, as he thought, in the most complete manner possible, and in command of a noble army, which had grown up under his immediate guidance and control, the brave commander started upon his campaign. during the month of march, , the forward movement was commenced. by divisions the army was transported from alexandria to their point of destination upon the peninsula, and on the first day of april, general mcclellan embarked, with his headquarters, on the steamer "commodore," reaching fort monroe on the afternoon of the following day. at this point we will leave the army, to follow the movements of my operatives, and detail their experiences in the rebel capital, although the facts were not reported to me until a long time after their actual occurrence. price lewis and john scully reached the city of richmond without accident or delay, and at once established themselves in the exchange hotel, where they remained quietly for the night. the next morning they started out to search for timothy webster, and for the purpose of obtaining reliable information of him they went to the office of the _richmond enquirer_, for the proprietors of which webster had frequently carried letters, and purchased goods while in the north. here they were informed that webster was confined to his bed at the monumental hotel. repairing at once to the place where they were directed, they were shown to webster's room, and here they found the brave fellow, lying a weak and helpless invalid, attended by mrs. lawton, whose attentions to him were unremitting. there was also in the room, a mr. pierce, a warm southern friend, whose friendship for webster was of long standing, and whose visits to the sick man were of daily occurrence. the recognition between them was a most formal and undemonstrative one, and no one would have suspected that they were engaged in the same vocation, and acting under the same authority. during the short interview that ensued, webster was fretful and ill at ease. knowing the sentiments of the people as he did, and associated as intimately as he was with the most prominent of the confederate authorities, he was fearful that the precipitate and unheralded appearance of his companions might lead to their being suspected, as well as to attaching suspicion to himself. the few words of conversation, therefore, that ensued, were marked by a constraint which was uncomfortable to all parties, and the visit was of short duration. when they called again upon webster, they found with him a rebel officer from the provost-marshal's office, who was a friend of webster, and who visited him frequently. webster introduced his two friends to captain mccubbin, for that was the man's name, and after a few minutes, that officer inquired: "have you gentlemen reported at general winder's office?" "no, sir," replied lewis, "we did not think it was necessary, having fully reported to major beale, and received his permission to travel." "it _is_ necessary for you to report to the provost-marshal here, and i now give you _official_ notice of the fact," said mccubbin, laughingly. "very well," returned lewis, "we will do so as early as possible." "any time within a day or two will answer," said the officer. webster watched the rebel captain carefully while he was speaking, and he thought he detected beneath his careless, laughing demeanor, an element of suspicion, which he did not like, and more than ever he deplored the fact that my men had visited him so soon, or had appeared to be acquaintances of his. however, the mistake had been made, if mistake it was, and he resolved to give the matter as little concern as possible, trusting that his anxiety was ill-founded, and that all would be right in the end. on the following morning my two operatives presented themselves at the office of the provost-marshal, and meeting captain mccubbin there, they were soon introduced to general winder, who occupied that position in the rebel capital. after they had been formally introduced to general winder, that officer made very minute inquiries, as to the antecedents and the business of the two men before him, although no word was mentioned, that led either of them to believe that they were suspected of being other than they seemed. they informed the marshal that they were natives of england and ireland, that scully had been in america nearly three years, while lewis had arrived only eighteen months before; that one of them had been connected with a prominent dry-goods house in new york city, and the other represented a london publishing firm, whose office was located in the same city. they also stated that in baltimore they had become acquainted with w. h. scott, who had informed them of great opportunities for making money by smuggling goods into the confederacy, and that this visit had been made to afford them the knowledge requisite to embarking in such an enterprize. they had agreed to deliver the letter, which mr. scott gave them, to mr. webster, which they had done, and further than this their intimacy with either gentlemen did not extend. this interview was conducted in a very pleasant manner by general winder, and after they had fully answered all the questions which had been propounded to them, they took their leave, being politely invited by the general to call upon him whenever convenient. congratulating themselves upon the fortunate outcome of a visit which they had looked forward to with more or less solicitude, they repaired to webster's room to give him an account of what had transpired. they had not been seated very long, when a detective from the marshal's office made his appearance, and after apologizing for his visit, inquired from what parts of england and ireland the two men had come; stating also, that general winder desired the information. after this man had left, webster turned to his companions and in as firm a voice as he could command, said: "get away from richmond immediately! there is danger brewing. you are certainly suspected, and it may go very hard with all of us, unless you leave the city at once!" "why do you think so?" inquired scully, in a skeptical tone. "we certainly cannot be suspected, and i am confident that you are alarming yourself unnecessarily." a spasm of pain prevented webster from replying immediately; but when the agony had somewhat subsided, he answered: "i tell you that man never would have come here with that question unless there was something wrong. you must, indeed, get away, or the consequences will be serious." scarcely had he uttered these words, when there came a sharp rap at the door, which, upon being opened, revealed the forms of two men, one of them being george cluckner, a detective officer attached to the provost-marshal's office, and the other no less a personage than chase morton, a son of ex-governor morton, of florida, whose house in washington my operatives had at one time assisted in searching. the consternation of lewis and scully may well be imagined, and the latter, without uttering a word, walked rapidly towards the open doorway and disappeared, leaving lewis, filled with astonishment and apprehension, to pass the ordeal of an introduction. the salutations between them were, as may be conjectured, not of a very cordial character; and after the merest form of politeness, lewis bade webster good-evening, and left the room. at the top of the landing he found scully awaiting him, and they were about to descend the stairs, felicitating themselves upon having escaped a threatened danger, when the door of webster's room was opened, and the confederate detective again stood before them. "are your names lewis and scully?" he inquired. "yes, sir," answered lewis, promptly, resolved to put as bold a face upon the matter as possible. "then," said the officer, "i have orders to convey you to general winder's office." there was no help for it, and they signified their readiness to accompany him at once, intending to make an effort to escape when they reached the street. this hope, however, was dashed to the ground; for, as they descended the stairs, they found three other officers awaiting their appearance, who immediately took them in charge, and accompanied them to the provost-marshal's office. several times, during their journey, lewis noticed, with increasing apprehension, that the gaze of young chase morton was riveted fixedly upon them, and he had no doubt whatever that they had been recognized, and would certainly be apprehended. this prospect was far from being a cheerful one; but they mustered up all their latent courage, and conversed good-humoredly with their escort, as they walked briskly along. arriving at the general's headquarters, they learned that that functionary was absent upon some urgent business, but would shortly return, and had left orders that they should await his appearance. lewis and scully were accordingly admitted to a private room, and requested to make themselves comfortable until general winder should desire their presence. the door closed upon the retreating forms of their escort, and left them in a most uncomfortable condition of mind indeed. there was now no doubt of the correctness of webster's suspicions, and they bitterly regretted their haste in visiting him, and also not having taken his advice at once. however, this was no time for regrets, and they resolved to firmly adhere to their original statements, and await the disposition of their case by general winder. while they were conversing together, the door was opened, and young morton entered the room, accompanied by an officer. stepping directly up to price lewis, he addressed him: "don't you remember me?" "i do not," responded lewis; "i do not remember to have seen you at any time before to-day." he looked unflinchingly into the eyes that met his, and the determined tones of his voice betrayed no trace of the emotions that were raging within his bosom. "don't you remember," continued young morton, "coming to my mother's house, in washington, as an agent of the secret service of the federal government, and making a thorough search of our premises and its contents?" "you are mistaken, sir," replied lewis, firmly. "i know nothing of what you are alluding to." "i am not mistaken," said the young southerner, "and you are the man!" "perhaps this gentleman will say that he recollects me, next," said scully, resolved to be as bold as possible, under the circumstances. chase morton gazed at him a few moments and then answered, decidedly: "yes sir, i recollect you also; you were one of the men who assisted in searching my mother's residence." both men insisted strongly upon their ignorance of any such proceeding, and indignantly repudiated the charges that had been made against them. at this juncture general winder came in, and walking up to lewis he greeted him cordially, warmly shaking him by the hand, saying: "how do you do, mr. lewis, and how is mr. seward?" "i do not know what you mean," replied lewis. "perhaps not," said winder, with a disagreeable smile, "but i am inclined to think that you know a great deal more than you are willing to admit." "i do not understand you." "very well," said the provost-marshal, "you will understand me, and all in good time. do you know gentlemen, i suspected you were all wrong from the start, and you were not keen enough to impose your story upon me? george," he added, turning to one of his men, "go to the hotel, and get the baggage belonging to these gentlemen. we will see if that will throw any further light upon their true character." the officer departed, and during his absence, general winder plied them with questions about their mission; their knowledge of timothy webster; their visit to richmond, and in fact about everything imaginable, and all of them showing conclusively that he believed them to be spies, and unworthy of credence. their satchels were finally brought in, and a rigid examination failed to discover anything to justify his suspicions, and winder finally left the room, angrily ordering them to remain where they were, and directing his officers and chase morton to accompany him. a few minutes elapsed after their departure, during which the loud voice of winder could be heard, angrily declaiming against the two men; he then came back again, and addressing my operatives said: "gentlemen, your stories don't agree with what i know about you, and we will give you time to think the matter over;" then turning to his deputy he commanded, "take them away!" "where to?" inquired the officer. "to henrico jail," was winder's response. they were then conducted to the jail and placed in a room in which six others were confined, where the officers left them to their meditations, which, as may be imagined, were far from pleasant. not knowing what might be in store for them, and fearing that their presence in richmond might result in danger to webster, they resolved to say nothing whatever, and to adhere strictly to the story originally told by them, and then to abide by the consequences, no matter how serious they might be. during the afternoon of the following day, an officer accompanied by an elder son of mr. morton made their appearance at the jail, and he, too, identified the two men, as being concerned in searching his mother's residence in washington, and endeavored to recall several incidents which had taken place on that occasion. to all of his statements, however, price and scully made emphatic denials, and vehemently asserted their entire ignorance of anything connected with the mortons, or their relations to the federal government. finding it impossible to obtain any admission from the two prisoners, they took their departure, and left the confined detectives to their own unpleasant reflections. for three days they remained in their place of confinement, and during that time no word came from the marshals office or from any one concerning their disposition or future movements. it seemed as though the authorities had been content with simply placing them in durance vile, and then had dismissed them from their minds. this was the most favorable view they were able to take of the case, and they were solacing themselves with the fallacious hope of having escaped a fate which they dreaded, and also with the belief that webster, their friend and companion, would not be associated with their presence in richmond, and that their discovery would not operate to his injury. on the fourth day, however, an attaché of the marshal's office came to the jail, and calling for john scully informed him that his presence was required by general winder. scully prepared himself for the visit, and taking leave of his companion followed the officer. he did not return that night, and for days afterwards lewis was in ignorance of what had become of him, or what fate he was to expect at the hands of these minions of disloyalty and secession. lewis, meanwhile, had become acquainted with his fellow prisoners, all of whom were in a state of anxiety as to what measure of punishment would be meted out to them, and all nearly crazed with the uncertainty of their impending fate. for days they had been concocting a plan of escape, and finding lewis disposed to make an effort to be released from his confinement, they developed their plans to him, and requested his aid in the accomplishment of their purpose. lewis hailed with delight a proposition that promised to enable them to exchange the damp and noisome air of a prison for the free breath of nature, and the dark hours of captivity for the freedom and liberty he longed for, and he became an energetic and careful coadjutor of those who suffered with him the degrading position of being imprisoned by a government which they despised, and by which their lives were menaced. the part of the jail in which they were confined was separated from the main building, and contained four cells, two upon the ground floor and two immediately above them. these cells were reached through a corridor from the yard outside, and secured by two doors; one a heavy iron one fastened on the inside, and the other a stout wooden barricade, the lock of which was placed on the outside of the building. it was the custom of the old man, who acted as the jailer, to allow the prisoners a half hour's walk in the yard during the early evening, and then, locking them up safely again, he would leave them alone in the building, while he went to his home, several blocks distant. one of the men had managed to secrete a file about his person, and with this they succeeded in making a saw out of a knife. these were the only implements which they had to work with. notwithstanding the meagerness of their implements, but a few days had elapsed before the bolts on every cell-door were sawed through so that they only required a few minutes' labor to detach them from their fastenings altogether. it is impossible to detail the hours of feverish anxiety, of tireless energy, and of momentary fear of detection, through which these men passed while engaged in their difficult and dangerous work--or to depict their joy, when at last their labor was completed, and they awaited the time of carrying their plans into execution. the outside door was now the only barrier between them and their coveted freedom, and various plans were suggested to overcome this obstacle. at length one was decided upon which promised to secure the object of their desires. in one corner of the yard in which they took their daily exercise, there was a large pile of ashes and garbage, which had been accumulating for a long time. it was resolved that one of their number should be buried under this rubbish, while several of the other prisoners engaged the old jailer in animated conversation. the man selected for this purpose was a good, brave fellow, who was formerly a sailor, and had lately been a member of an artillery company from new york. his name was charles stanton, and he had come into the south upon his own inclination, and for the quixotic purpose of obtaining command of a gunboat of the confederacy, and then attempting to run it through to the union lines. he had, however, been suspected, and remanded to prison, where he had remained without a trial, and without hope of release, for several months. the prisoners were all turned out for their usual exercise in the yard, on the evening which had been agreed upon; and in accordance with their arranged plan, several of the prisoners surrounded the old turnkey, and engaged him in an earnest discussion, while others set actively to work to dig the grave of stanton in the ashes. in order that he might not be unbearably uncomfortable, his body only was covered with the contents of the ash-heap, while his head and shoulders were concealed from view by some straw, which one of the men brought from his cell for that purpose. in the jail, at this time, there were a number of negroes, who had been captured while attempting to make their way to the north, and although these faithful blacks were aware of the attempted escape, and knew full well that they were not included in the movement, their efforts were none the less active in behalf of the white men who were struggling for liberty. they had been informed of the attempted escape, from the first, and had kept the matter a profound secret, at the same time rendering such service as they were capable of to the whites. everything worked to their entire satisfaction. the turnkey was unsuspicious; the grave was made without discovery, and stanton was carefully concealed. in a few minutes afterwards the call for retiring was heard, and the men, with throbbing hearts, rushed in a mass toward the door of the corridor. this was done in order to escape the counting of their number, in case the old man should attempt to do so. they passed quickly into their cells, and were not required to be counted. thus far, all had been done as successfully as could be hoped for, or expected; no suspicions were excited, nor was their missing comrade called for. it had been the custom of the old man to make a tour of the cells after the prisoners had retired, to see if they were all there before he went away for the night. in order to overcome this possibility of detection, a figure had been made of straw, stuffed into the garments of the men, and laid upon the bed, in order to look as much like a human being as possible. this precaution proved to be a good one, for just before the time of closing up the prison arrived, the glimmer of the old turnkey's lantern was seen in the corridor, and shortly after, his face appeared at the door, as he eagerly scanned the occupants of the various cells. apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, the jailer went his way, the heavy outside doors were closed and locked, and the retreating footsteps of the old man could be distinctly heard. the critical moment had at last arrived, and they awaited in breathless silence the appearance of stanton. fortune favored them in a peculiar manner this evening. as the old man was passing the pile of ashes under which stanton was concealed, he noticed the unusual appearance of the straw. stopping for a moment, he drew a match from his pocket, lighted it, and then walked toward the heap as though with the intention of setting fire to it. the match fortunately was extinguished by a blast of wind, and after searching in his pocket for another match, but finding none, he slowly turned, and walked out of the gate, locking it securely behind him. stanton's feelings, under this ordeal, may be imagined. if the old man had succeeded in igniting the straw, under which he was concealed, detection would have followed instantly, and no doubt serious injury would have been inflicted upon the brave fellow, who had willingly suffered the discomforts of his unpleasant confinement for the purpose of assisting his comrades to escape. no sooner had the gate closed upon the jailor, than he crawled nimbly out from his place of concealment, and hastily made his way to the door. he at once began his operations upon the lock. the appearance of stanton at the door was the signal for the others, and in less than an hour the locks upon the cell doors had been removed. stanton had wrested the lock from the outside door, and only the iron inside one was now to be overcome. this barrier resisted all their efforts, and it was at last decided that the lock must be removed by main force. this was a proceeding which necessitated a great deal of noise, and they were in an agony of apprehension lest their clamor should attract the attention of people passing on the outside, and thus lead to their detection. to prevent this, the colored men, without any solicitation or instruction, came to the rescue in a very important, though unexpected manner. they commenced to sing in concert, at the top of their voices, snatches of plantation and camp-meeting melodies, which effectually drowned the sound of their blows, and enabled them to work without fear of detection. the lock at last yielded to their combined efforts, and the men issued silently forth into the darkness of the night, breathing once more the stimulating atmosphere of hope and promised liberty. only the wall around the prison yard was now to be surmounted, and with the aid of some old planks that were lying around, they succeeded in reaching the top, after which they noiselessly dropped themselves to the ground. although this wall was very high, they all reached _terra firma_ in safety, and with one impulse breathed a prayer of thankfulness for the success which had thus far attended their efforts. silently, and walking in couples, at long distances apart, they started out to leave the city. the sky was clear, and the moon was shining brightly overhead. the stars were twinkling merrily, as though enjoying the success which had attended these brave, patient men, in their labor and toil of days and weeks. this was on the eighteenth day of march, and martial law had been proclaimed some time previously. it was now nearly eight o'clock, and by the provisions of the law any one found upon the streets after nine o'clock, must be in possession of a pass, or be liable to arrest. great haste was therefore necessary, in order to leave the city before that hour. with only the stars for their guide, they set out in a northerly direction. not one of the men was acquainted with the country, and their journey was all the more perilous on that account. by midnight they had reached the chickahominy, having succeeded, by the greatest good fortune, in escaping any one who was disposed to make inquiries or to molest them in any manner whatever. across this swamp their way led through quagmires and deep pools, and was dangerous in the extreme. sometimes waist deep in the soft mud and water, and scrambling over slipping places which furnished insecure footholds, and threatened instant danger from falling back into the pools through which they had made their way. their journey was full of hardship and suffering. the air was cold and frosty, and their wet garments clung to them like ice; their limbs trembled; their teeth chattered with the cold, and their condition was really a pitiable one indeed. at length they reached the woods upon the opposite side. here they were obliged to stop and rest, completely exhausted. some of the hardier of the party removed their dripping garments, and attempted to wring the water from them; while others, unable to stand the chilling air any longer, built a fire, around which they gathered in the effort to warm their bodies and to dry their water-soaked clothing. they rested for about two hours, and then pushed on again until daylight, when they sought the shelter of the woods and laid down, hoping to get some sleep after their laborious and fatiguing journey of the preceding night. sleep, however, was impossible; their clothing was wet, and the air was cold. their sufferings became intense, and at length, finding it impossible to endure the freezing atmosphere longer, they determined to build a fire, regardless of the consequences. proceeding further into the wood, they gathered some boughs, and soon the cheerful blaze afforded them sufficient heat to dry their frozen clothing and to warm their benumbed and freezing bodies. thus passed the day, and when darkness came on again they resumed their journey. already they began to experience the pangs of hunger. they had eaten nothing since the evening before, and had walked many weary miles. they were foot-sore and tired and hungry. they had provided themselves with the remnants of the corn cake which had been served for their supper on the previous evening, but these had become thoroughly soaked with water on their journey through the swamps, and had crumbled to pieces. notwithstanding their pitiable condition, their strong wills and brave hearts sustained them, and they plodded on. the night was intensely dark; the stars were obscured, and a pall of inky blackness hung over them, which rendered their journey exceedingly hazardous, as they could not see the way before them, and were unable to tell in which direction they were traveling. they had not proceeded far when the storm broke, and a drenching torrent of rain descended. the wind whistled and howled through the trees, and for hours the tempest raged with relentless fury. seeking the shelter of the woods again, they crouched close to the trunks of the trees, and vainly attempted to screen themselves from the deluge. it was of no avail, however; the leafless timber afforded them no protection, and during the continuance of the storm the poor, tired and almost exhausted fugitives were exposed to the pitiless blast. shivering with cold, their teeth chattering, their garments drenched through to their quivering skin, they knelt or crouched upon the ground, and when daylight dawned, and the storm at last cleared away, they were almost too weak to help themselves. price lewis looked around him as the faint streaks of sunrise illumined the horizon, and to his dismay saw that nearly all of his late companions had disappeared, and that only three others beside himself remained. with the greatest difficulty they succeeded in building a fire, and were just preparing to enjoy its comforting warmth, when they were alarmed by the sound of the hasty tramping of feet, and in a moment they were surrounded by a number of confederate soldiers, who commanded them to surrender at once. this sudden and unexpected appearance was a crushing blow to their hopes. they submitted without a word; and although bowed to the ground with disappointment, they experienced a sensation almost amounting to relief, at the prospect of receiving the care and attention which even enemies would give to those in such distress as were these poor fugitives. limping along, they were marched to an out-building, connected with a farm-house near by, when, to their surprise, they saw the remainder of their party, who had been captured by another band of soldiers, huddled together in one corner of the room. the soldiers were touched with pity, as they beheld the forlorn condition of the men whom they had secured, and in a short time they had provided them with a repast, which the famished fugitives devoured with a rapidity which gave ample testimony of their long and painful abstinence. after dispatching this meal they were conveyed directly back to richmond, and returned to their old quarters in henrico jail. on their arrival each man was placed in a separate cell, and doubly ironed, to prevent a repetition of their efforts to escape. [illustration: _the prisoners re-captured._] while price lewis had been engaged in this unsuccessful attempt to gain his liberty, john scully had been undergoing a far different experience. a court-martial had been hurriedly convened, where he was fully identified by every member of the morton family as the man who had searched their premises in the city of washington, and had, after a very summary trial, been convicted and remanded back to prison to await his sentence. on the second day after the return of price lewis he was conducted before a court-martial, and in a remarkably short space of time was accorded a trial, if trial it could be called, and his conviction followed as quickly as did that of john scully. they had been charged with being alien enemies, and at one time acting in the service of the federal government in washington. in addition to this, they were charged with loitering around the fortifications at richmond and taking plans of the same. notwithstanding the fact that no witness could be procured who would swear to having seen them in such localities, or engaged in any such occupation, the members of the court-martial, with singular unanimity, found them guilty of the second charge, with as much haste, and as manifest an air of solemnity, as they did of the first. the next day they were each informed of their sentence, which was that they should be hung by the neck, as spies, and that their execution should take place in one week from the day of the communication of the information to them. this sentence was a heavy blow to the two prisoners; and from the character of the men by whom they were surrounded, they felt that hope was useless. the spirit of animosity manifested toward them by the court, the indecent haste with which their trial had been conducted, and the rapidity with which their sentence had followed their conviction, gave them no reasons for hoping for clemency, or that they would be able to escape the dreadful fate which now was impending over them. the conduct of the various members of the morton family in betraying my operatives to the authorities, and in appearing as accusing witnesses against them, in face of their promises, long ago made, to befriend them if possible, was an act which did not reflect very favorably upon their regard for truth, or their appreciation of delicate treatment when they themselves were suspected of treachery. lewis and scully had never seen each other from the time when the latter was removed from the cell a few days after their first imprisonment, and each was unconscious of the other's fate or of the state of their feelings under the fatal sentence which hung over them both. after their conviction they had both been sent to a prison called castle godwin, and had been placed in irons, and in separate cells. during the first two days that elapsed after their conviction, they were visited by judge crump, who conducted the trial, and by several members of general winder's staff, all of whom endeavored to obtain some admissions from the two prisoners which would justify their action in condemning them to death. all with no avail, however; the two men stoutly insisted upon their original story, except so far as to admit that they had searched the premises of mrs. morton, but each man was firm in stating that he had become disgusted with the service, and had left it very soon after that act had been committed. on the day after their sentence had been communicated to them, a letter was brought to lewis, from the commandant of the post, stating that scully was suffering with a serious illness, and having requested that lewis be allowed to visit him, the privilege had been granted. on entering the cell where scully was confined, lewis found his fellow-prisoner in a very depressed condition of mind, although his physical infirmities had been assumed in order to secure an interview with his partner in misfortune. after discussing their situation as philosophically as possible under the circumstances, seeking for some ray of hope and finding none, they were at last compelled to the belief that their doom was sealed, and that their only plan was to bear up manfully to the end. scully, who was a roman catholic, desired the services of a priestly comforter, to whom he could make such statements as would relieve his mind in the coming trial, and made known this wish to lewis. "you will not tell him what you know of webster, and his connection with this matter, will you?" said lewis, fearful that webster might be betrayed. "i don't know what i will tell him," answered scully; "i have not decided what to say, nor do i know what i will be commanded to relate." "for god's sake, scully, don't say anything about webster; we can meet our fate like men, but to mention his name now, would be wrong indeed." "i tell you," said scully, "i don't know what i am going to say. i don't want to do wrong, but i cannot tell what i may have to do yet." lewis argued with his companion long and earnestly upon this matter, and when at last the priest arrived, and scully followed him to another cell, the warning admonitions of his fellow-prisoner were ringing in his ears. what transpired during that secret meeting between the condemned spy and his father-confessor, lewis did not know, but when he was conducted to his own cell, late that night, he saw a man and woman closely guarded, in the lower hall, and his heart grew heavy and cold as his imagination conjured up the direful fate which a confession from his imprisoned comrade would bring to the faithful patriot webster, who lay suffering and anxious upon his bed of pain. after a long and restless night, in which he tossed uneasily upon his hard prison bed, vainly attempting to court the rest-giving slumber of which he stood so much in need, lewis arose from his couch, feverish and unrefreshed, as the first faint rays of the morning sun penetrated his damp and dingy cell. his mind was in a state of confusion, and his heart was filled with fear. what had been done he knew not, and yet those guarded figures of the night before were ever in his mind. could it be that they were webster and his faithful attendant mrs. lawton? he shrank involuntarily from this thought; and yet, strive as he would, it recurred to him, with increased force, and with more convincing power, after each attempt to drive it from him. in a little while, the prison was astir. the guards were making their accustomed rounds, breakfast was served, and another day, with all its solemn activity, and its bustle so death-like and subdued, had begun. unable to partake of the scanty meal that was set before him, lewis impatiently awaited the hour when he would be permitted to visit his fellow-prisoner whom he had left upon the eve of consulting with his spiritual adviser, and, if possible, learn the result of his interview with the priest. about ten o'clock the turnkey appeared, and he was conducted to scully's cell. as he entered the dimly-lighted room, he noticed that the face of the man whom he had left the night before, had undergone a wonderful change. his cheeks were sunken and pale; his eyes had a strange, wild expression, and the shadows under the lids were dark and heavy. his hair was unkempt, and his lips trembled with the emotions which he was struggling to repress. whatever events had transpired since he had seen him last, it was evident that their effect upon scully had been terrible and agonizing. he had been unable to sleep, and the tortures of his mind had been almost unbearable. his greeting to lewis showed a degree of restraint which had been unknown before, and for a moment he seemed unable to speak. at length he grew calmer, and related to his friend the events of the preceding night, and the influences that had been brought to bear upon him. the promise of freedom; his loving family at home; the certainty of an ignoble death if he refused; the degradation of the impending scaffold; and the promise that his admissions should result in injury to no one, all combined against his weak condition of both mind and body, and at last, yielding to the influences which he could not control, he had told his story, and had given a truthful account of all his movements. who can blame this man? who, that has stood before the frowning scaffold, and with a free world before him, can utter words of censure? only those who have suffered as he did, prostrated as he was, can know the terrible agony through which he passed ere the fatal words were forced from his trembling lips. for myself, i have no judgment to utter. now, as when the news was first communicated to me, i cannot express an unjust sentence. john scully and his companion were not heroic martyrs. what then? they were simply men who, after having performed many brave acts of loyalty and duty to their country, failed in a moment of grand and great self-sacrifice. i cannot apologize for them--i cannot judge them. their trial was a severe one, and they were in sore distress. if they succumbed to a controlling emergency, it was because of a lack of the heroic elements of humanity; and who, in our day, can claim their possession in the very face of death and dishonor? let us hasten over these unpleasant and disastrous events. finding that the worst had occurred, and that further concealment was of no avail, lewis, too, opened his mouth. he was again visited by the rebel authorities, and at last he, too, added his voice to that of scully, and made a revelation of his true character, and of the nature of his mission to richmond. the next day they were respited. they had escaped an ignominious death, but, perhaps, in their lonely cells they suffered a death in life, beside which an actual demise might have seemed a blessing. leaving them to their reflections, we turn again to timothy webster. chapter xxxvi. _webster arrested as a spy.--a woman's devotion and a patriot's heroism.--webster is convicted.--the execution.--a martyr's grave._ after the departure of lewis and scully from webster's room, where they were so closely followed by the confederate detective and chase morton, my trusty operative heard nothing of them for some time. fearing to make inquiries concerning them, lest he should compromise them still further, as well as bring himself under the suspicion of the rebel authorities, he maintained a strict silence with regard to the movements of his companions. several days of anxious suspense followed, which, to one in webster's critical condition, were fraught with agonizing doubts and heartfelt fears for the ultimate safety of himself and his friends. resolving, however, to utter no word which would compromise them, he bore the solicitude with unmurmuring firmness. only to the heroic woman, who so faithfully nursed him, did he unburden his mind of the weight of care which oppressed him, and her words of womanly friendship and encouragement were the only influences which supported him through the trying ordeal. one day, mrs. lawton came into his room--as was her custom--but this time there was a gravity about her manner, which, to webster's quick perceptions, boded no good. finding him receiving some friendly visitors, the lady withdrew, and repressing his impatience as well as he was able to do, webster dispatched his friends as quickly as politeness, and a due consideration for their kindly regard, would permit. when they had disappeared, mrs. lawton again entered the room. "you have news for me," said webster, impatiently; "what is it?" "be calm, my dear friend," said the devoted little woman; "what i have to tell, calls for the utmost calmness." "tell me what it is," said webster; "i will be as calm as you could wish, but do not, i pray you, keep me in suspense." "well," replied mrs. lawton, "i learned this morning that lewis and scully have been arrested and taken to henrico jail." "when did this occur?" asked the invalid, a great weight pressing upon his heart. "the very day they were here last," answered the woman. "then all is lost," exclaimed the sick man. "i feared as much; and now the time has come i will meet it manfully; however," he continued, "it will be only a short time before i will share the same fate." "why do you think so?" anxiously inquired mrs. lawton. "surely they cannot connect you with these men." "i do not know why i think so, but i am as confident that i will be brought into this matter as though the officers were already here to arrest me." while he yet spoke, there came a knock at the chamber door, which, on being opened, revealed the form of captain mccubbin. as he entered the room he gazed furtively around, and his salutation to webster was very different from the cordiality which had marked his previous visits. "good morning, webster," said he, as he took the offered chair, and for the first time since they had known each other neglecting to shake the invalid by the hand. "this is bad news about lewis and scully, isn't it?" "what is it?" inquired webster, apparently receiving the information for the first time. "they have been arrested as spies, are confined in prison, and general winder wants that letter which they brought to you from the north." there was something so cold and imperious in the officer's tones, which confirmed webster's fears for his own safety; but without evincing the slightest alarm, he cheerfully made reply: "i am sorry to hear this news, and trust that they will be able to exonerate themselves from the charge. anything, however, that general winder wants from me will be cheerfully given. mrs. lawton, will you get the letter, and hand it to captain mccubbin." there was no tremor of the voice, and the watchful confederate looked in vain for any evidence of fear in the face of the man, who, stricken by disease as he was, still showed the bravery of a lion, and gazed unflinchingly at him. though the hand of fate was upon him, webster never lost his heroic courage, and bore the scrutiny of the officer without the quiver of a muscle. captain mccubbin received the letter, and almost immediately withdrew. as he closed the door behind him, webster turned to his faithful companion, and, in a low, solemn voice, said: "that letter has sealed my fate!" from this point, webster's physical condition seemed to improve, and although depressed with fears for the fate of his companions, he gradually became stronger, and was at length able to leave his bed and move about his room. the visits of his numerous friends had now almost ceased. from general winder's officers, with whom he had previously been so intimate, he heard nothing, nor did they make inquiries about his health, as had been their custom. of the many friends in private life, who had surrounded him, only two remained. these were mr. pierce and mr. campbell, with whom webster had traveled for some time, and his family. this dropping away of old friends, and the breaking up of old associations, was significant to webster of impending danger. it must be that he, too, was suspected, and that the favor of the rebel authorities had been withdrawn. day by day, during his convalescence, did the brave little woman who had nursed him back to life, endeavor to encourage him to a hopeful view of his situation, and to impress him with her own sanguine trust for a favorable outcome from this present dilemma. webster listened to the bright promises of his devoted companion, but he was too profoundly aware of the danger that threatened him to permit himself to hope that the result to him would be a beneficial one. after he was able to leave his bed, he accepted the pressing invitation of mr. campbell, and was removed to the residence of that gentleman, where he would be more quiet, and where he could receive that care and attention which could not be afforded him in a hotel. the kindness of mr. campbell and his family was heartfelt and unceasing. they did everything in their power to make him comfortable, and their courtesy to mrs. lawton was as marked and genuine, as was their regard and care for timothy webster. webster had been domiciled at the house of mr. campbell but two days, when one of winder's men came to know if webster was sufficiently recovered to go out, as his presence was imperatively demanded at the court room, as a witness in the trial of john scully. the officer further stated that the evidence of webster had been solicited by scully himself. finding him unable still to leave the house, the officer stated that arrangements would be made by which his testimony could be taken in his room. on the second day after the appearance of the officer, the court-martial adjourned to campbell's house, and scully accompanied them. seating themselves around the bedside of the invalid, the court was formally opened, and webster was requested to state what he knew of the antecedents of the accused. though very weak, and speaking with considerable difficulty, webster made his statement. he said that he had known john scully from april, , to the time of his arrest. that the prisoner was in baltimore when he first met him, and was always in the company of known secessionists, and was considered by them to be a good friend to the south. so far as he had any knowledge of the accused he was what he assumed to be, and that his appearance in richmond was a surprise to him. he was not known to be in the employ of the government, and webster had never met him under any circumstances which would indicate that fact. this was all that he could say, and although closely questioned by the president of the court, and the attorneys present, he insisted that his knowledge of john scully was confined to what he had already stated. finding it impossible to obtain any further information upon this subject from the sick man, the court, in a body, left the room, and departed from the house. mrs. lawton, who had been compelled to retire on the entrance of the confederate authorities, and who had been in a wild state of excitement and apprehension during their visit, instantly repaired to webster's room. when she entered the chamber, she found that the brave man, after the exciting experiences through which he had been compelled to pass, had fainted. his strength of will, which had supported him through the investigation, had given way, and he lay, limp and inanimate, upon the bed. several days of anxiety and solicitude now passed. unable to learn any tidings of his unfortunate comrades, webster tortured himself with all manner of vague fears and doubts as to their probable fate, all of which had their effect in retarding his recovery, and keeping him confined to his room. at last, after days of weary and anxious waiting, the newspapers were brought in one morning, and the information of the conviction of lewis and scully was duly chronicled. the same paper also announced the day upon which their death was so speedily to follow. this filled the cup of webster's misery to overflowing, and, sinking upon a chair, he wept like a child. refusing to be comforted, although mrs. lawton exerted herself to the utmost, webster paced the room, half frantic with his grief, at the horrible fate which had overtaken his friends. slowly the day passed, and when the shadows of evening were falling webster was at last induced to lie down, and attempt to snatch a few hours sleep. he was soon slumbering quietly, although ever and anon he would start nervously and utter an inarticulate moan, as though his mind was still troubled with the sad events of the day. while he lay thus, attended by mrs. lawton, mr. campbell suddenly entered the room, with a look of fear upon his face, which filled mrs. lawton with alarm. "what is the matter?" she hurriedly ejaculated. "one of winder's men is below, and i fear his presence indicates misfortune for webster," was the reply. "who is it?" "cashmeyer," answered mr. campbell. "he inquired for webster, and says he must see him at once." webster, disturbed by this conversation, was awake in an instant and inquired what was wanted. "cashmeyer has called, and wishes to see you," said mr. campbell. "let him come up at once," replied webster, in the hope that he might bring some tidings of lewis and scully. mr. campbell departed, and in a few moments returned with the confederate officer. cashmeyer's salutation was cold and formal, and without any preliminary he addressed webster. "i have a painful duty to perform, mr. webster. i am directed by general winder to arrest you, and convey you at once to castle godwin." as he spoke, two soldiers appeared at the doorway. "you cannot wish to take him away in this condition, and at this hour of the night," said mrs. lawton. "such an action would be his death, and would be the worst of inhumanity." webster stood silent and unmoved. he did not utter a word, but gazed fixedly at the officer, whose visits heretofore had been those of sympathy and condolence. "i cannot help it," said cashmeyer, "my orders are to take him dead, or alive, and those orders i must obey." "then," said mrs. lawton, "i will go too. he needs care and attention, without it he will die, and no one can nurse him so well as i." cashmeyer gazed at the brave little woman for a moment, and a shade of pity came over his face. "i am sorry to inform you, that my orders are to arrest you also, and to search your trunks." "this is infamous," exclaimed webster; "what can winder mean by arresting this woman, and what am i charged with that renders your orders necessary?" "webster," answered cashmeyer, "as god is my witness, i do not know; i only know what my orders are, and that i must obey them." without further parley, webster and mrs. lawton prepared to accompany their guards, and cashmeyer, demanding their keys, commenced a search of their trunks, which resulted in his finding nothing that would criminate his prisoners. a carriage was procured, and webster was assisted into it, while mrs. lawton, under the escort of cashmeyer was compelled to walk. it was quite late when they arrived at the prison, and as price lewis was ascending to his cell, webster and his faithful female companion entered the gloomy portals of the jail. general winder was present when they arrived, and after a hurried examination webster was remanded to a room, in which a number of union prisoners were already confined, and the atmosphere of which was reeking with filth and disease. as he entered the room, pale and emaciated, and scarcely able to walk, the prisoners gathered around, in silent pity for his forlorn condition. "my god!" exclaimed one of their number, "they will send the dead here next." mrs. lawton was conducted before the general, but she stoutly declined to answer a single question that was propounded to her. this so enraged the valiant officer that he ordered her to be taken away at once. she was then conducted to a room in which another lady was confined, and left for the night. as midnight tolled its solemn hour over the city, and the tramp of armed men resounded through the streets, the noises within the prison died away. an awful and impressive silence brooded over the place. the dim light in the corridor shone faintly upon four miserable human beings, who tossed restlessly upon sleepless couches through the long, weary watches of the night. who can tell the thoughts that thronged through their brains, as the slow moving hours advanced toward the dawn? the brave woman who had been cruelly deprived of her privilege to administer to the needs of her suffering friend. the heroic webster, wasted by disease, weakened by his long and painful illness, but still brave and defiant. price lewis and john scully, tortured with the thoughts of their impending fate, and harassed with reflections of a more agonizing nature, which we may not analyse. the trial of webster was ordered for an early day. with a haste that was inhuman, the provost-marshal made his preparations for the farce of an investigation. it seemed as though he was fearful that his victim would die, ere he could wreak his vengeance upon him. the court was convened, and, owing to webster's weakened condition, their sessions were held in the jail. for three long, weary weeks did the investigation drag its slow length along, although it was apparent that those who tried him had already decided upon his fate. numerous witnesses were examined, and testimony was admitted which would have been excluded by any righteous tribunal whose ideas of justice were not obscured by an insane desire for revenge. price lewis and john scully were compelled to give their evidence; and although they attempted to do their utmost to lessen the effect of their testimony, it bore heavily against the poor prisoner, who sat pale and emaciated before them, and whose heart never failed him through the long and tedious ordeal. what webster's feelings must have been during this harrowing experience is unknown to any one. what thoughts were rushing through his brain, as the damaging statements fell from the lips of his late associates, were never revealed by him. no murmurs escaped his lips, no words of censure or blame against the men whose evidence cost him his life, were ever uttered. a heroic calmness, born of the very despair which oppressed him from the first, was manifest throughout the long, weary investigation. indeed so manfully had he borne himself, so completely had he controlled his feelings, that his physical health perceptibly improved, so much so that the tribunal removed their sittings to the court-house, and webster was able to be in daily attendance. webster had secured able counsel for his defence, and they did all that was possible for man to do. although they were rebels, their efforts in behalf of the accused spy were such, that if pleadings could have availed him aught, his fate would have been averted. it was not to be, however; the trial came to an end at last. a verdict of guilty followed quickly upon the heels of the partial and antagonistic charge of the judge, and timothy webster was convicted of being a spy in the employ of the federal authorities. not even then did the brave spirit break down. firm and heroic he received the fatal verdict, and the satisfaction of his enemies was robbed of its value by the unflinching deportment of their victim. after the trial, he was remanded to a cell, and closely watched. but a little time elapsed, and then came the warrant for his execution. an officer appeared in the cell, the paper was produced, and the faithful, brave, true-hearted man was condemned to be hung on the twenty-ninth day of april, but ten days after the approval of his sentence. [illustration: _the death warrant._ p. .] * * * * * the union army was before yorktown. mcclellan had already sustained two serious disappointments, and both of them at the hands of the government at washington. in the first place, on his arrival at fort monroe, he had ascertained that the promised assistance of the navy could not be relied upon in the least, and that their efficient co-operation with him would be an utter impossibility. this interference with his plans might have been overcome, although the loss of the naval support was a serious misfortune to him; but a more surprising and disheartening act of the authorities was yet in store for him. a few days later, he was thunderstruck at the unexpected information that general mcdowell's entire corps, upon whose assistance he had confidently relied, was detached from his command, and had been ordered to remain in front of washington, for the protection of the capital, which was erroneously believed to be in imminent danger of capture by the rebels. these events rendered a scientific siege of yorktown a necessity; and while engaged in this laborious work, i was in constant consultation with the commanding general. numerous scouts had been sent out through the rebel country, and the secret service department was taxed to its utmost. george h. bangs was busily engaged in examining the rebel deserters and prisoners, southern refugees and contrabands, who were either captured or came willingly into camp, and in preparing daily reports of our movements, which were required to be made to the general in command. i had accompanied mcclellan upon this campaign, and gave my untiring personal supervision to the management of the large corps of men and women, white and black, then engaged in obtaining information. during all this time, not a word had been received of my missing operatives. tortured by the uncertainty of their fate, i passed many an anxious hour. at length all doubts were set at rest, and a dreadful certainty manifested itself to my mind. a newspaper, published in richmond, was received by me, and in hastily perusing its contents, with a view of acquiring such military information as it contained, my eye alighted upon a small paragraph, which filled me with dread and sorrow. this paragraph was the simple announcement that price lewis and john scully had been arrested as spies in the rebel capital, and had been sentenced to be hung on the th day of april. i cannot detail the effect which this announcement produced upon me. for a moment i sat almost stupefied, and unable to move. my blood seemed to freeze in my veins--my heart stood still--i was speechless. by degrees i was able to exercise a strong command over myself. i then sought my immediate associates, and communicated the fatal news to them. their consternation and grief were equal to my own. every man seemed to be impressed with the solemnity of the fate of their comrades. what was to be done? how to intercede in their behalf? i rushed to the tent of general mcclellan, and relating the news to him, besought his aid in this direful extremity. his sympathy and sorrow were as acute as though the men had been joined to him by ties of blood. anxiously we discussed the situation, in the vain attempt to seek some mode of obtaining their release, and all without definite or satisfactory conclusion. all that night i paced the camp, unable to sleep--unable almost to think intelligently; and when morning dawned i was as far from devising any practical plan of relief as when i first received the information. i telegraphed to captain milward, harbor-master at fortress monroe, and in charge of the flag-of-truce boat for exchanging prisoners, asking him to endeavor to ascertain from the richmond papers, or from any other source, anything definite as to the fate of my unfortunate operatives. several messages were received from that officer, containing various statements of the case, and finally came the crushing intelligence that lewis and scully had been respited, after having given information which implicated timothy webster, whom the rebels now regarded as the chief spy of the three. this was the crowning burden of all, and i was almost prostrated by the blow. hurried consultations were held, every conceivable plan was suggested and discussed, which would avail in the slightest degree to avert so terrible a fate from the faithful patriot who now was in such deadly danger. i suggested that general mcclellan should send, by flag-of-truce boat, such a demand as would, if possible, save their lives; but to this the general demurred, fearing, and justly too, that such a course might be productive of more injury than good--that it would be a tacit acknowledgment of their real character as spies, and they would be hung without further delay. it was at last decided that i should go to washington, accompanied by colonel key, an eminent patriot, and an efficient member of general mcclellan's staff. we were to confer with the president and the members of the cabinet, lay the matter before them, and petition for the official interposition of the government in their behalf. with colonel key, i started for washington, about the middle of april. the interest of that officer was scarcely second to my own, and he was fully determined to exert every energy of his manly, sympathetic nature in the work of saving their lives, if possible. the journey to washington was quickly made. mr. lincoln was readily seen, and he, too, filled with sympathy for the unfortunate men, promised to call a special session of the cabinet to consider the case, that evening. in the meantime, colonel key and i occupied ourselves in visiting the various heads of the departments, in order to prepare them, before evening arrived, for energetic and speedy action. we felt that no time was to be lost; if, indeed, it was not already too late to avert their dreadful doom. secretary stanton, whom, among others, we saw, expressed in strong terms his willingness to assist webster to the extent of the resources of the government, but he was but little disposed to assist the others, who, he alleged, had "betrayed their companion to save their own lives." in the evening the cabinet was convened, and, after a full discussion of the matter, it was decided that the only thing that could be done, was to authorize the secretary of war to communicate with the rebel authorities upon the subject. he was directed to authorize general wool to send by flag-of-truce boat, or by telegraph, a message to jefferson davis, representing that the course pursued by the federal government toward rebel spies had heretofore been lenient and forbearing; that in many cases such persons had been released after a short confinement, and that in no instance had any one so charged been tried for his life, or sentenced to death. the message concluded with the decided intimation that if the rebel government proceeded to carry their sentence of death into execution, the federal government would initiate a system of retaliation which would amply revenge the death of the men now held. receiving a copy of these instructions, colonel key and myself, feeling that we had exhausted the power of the government in this matter, returned at once to fortress monroe. we arrived there on the d day of april. general wool was immediately found, and without a moment's delay, he caused the required dispatches to be forwarded, by way of norfolk, through general huger, who was then in command of that place, with the urgent request that he would instantly transmit it by telegraph to the richmond authorities. this, i learned, was done as had been requested, and i learned further, that it reached the officers of the rebel government, and received their consideration in time to have been of avail, had there been one spark of manly sympathy animating the breasts of those who were the leaders of a vile conspiracy to destroy the noblest government under the blue canopy of heaven. feeling that all had now been done that was possible to save the lives of my men, and believing that the hate and malignity of the rebel officers would not carry them to such a murderous extent as this, i awaited the result of our mission with painful solicitude. * * * * * after the day of execution had been fixed, mrs. lawton was permitted to visit webster in the room to which he had been assigned. during all the time that the trial had been in progress, they had never been allowed to communicate with each other, and the noble little woman had been compelled to suffer in silence, while webster was undergoing the painful experiences of the investigation, which had resulted in his being condemned to be hung as a spy. the meeting between webster and mrs. lawton was a most affecting one. tears filled the eyes of the faithful woman, as she gazed at the pale and emaciated form of the heroic patriot. their hands were clasped in a warm pressure, and her words of heartfelt sympathy and grief were choked by the sobs which shook her frame. even in the excess of his despair, webster's fortitude never for a moment forsook him. he bore the burdens which had been imposed upon him with a courage and firmness that impressed all who witnessed it. under mrs. lawton's direction, the room in which he was confined was soon made cheerful and clean; with her own hands she prepared for him such delicacies as he needed most, and her words of comfort were of great effect in soothing his mind, and in preparing him for the dreadful fate which he was called upon to meet. nor did mrs. lawton stop here. she sought an interview with jefferson davis, but, finding him engaged with general lee, she obtained the privilege of visiting the wife of the confederate president. with mrs. davis she pleaded long and earnestly in behalf of the condemned man. besought her by every holy tie of her own life to intercede for the pardon of the poor invalid, whose life hung by so slender a thread. all in vain, however. while fully sympathizing with the fate of the unfortunate man, mrs. davis declined to interfere in matters of state, and mrs. lawton left the house utterly hopeless of being able to avert the dreadful fate which impended over webster. the hours flew swiftly by, and the day of execution drew near, and still a ray of hope glistened through the gloom which surrounded him. if mcclellan only succeeded in capturing richmond all would be well. but as the days passed, and this result seemed further from accomplishment than ever, even that flickering ember of hope died out, and he prepared to meet his fate like a man. one thing, however, impressed the doomed man more than anything else--the thought of being hung. any other mode of punishment would have been accepted with joy, but to be hanged like a murderer, was a disgrace which he could not bear to think about. on the day before his execution, he requested a visit from general winder, and that officer, evidently expecting a revelation from the lips of his victim, soon made his appearance at the prison. as he entered the cell where webster was reclining upon his couch, he roughly accosted him: "webster you have sent for me; what is it that you desire?" "general winder," replied webster, "i have sent for you to make an appeal to your manhood; my fate is sealed. i know that too well--i am to die, and i wish to die like a man. i know there is no hope for mercy, but, sir, i beseech you to permit me to be shot, not be hanged like a common felon,--anything but that." "i am afraid that cannot be done," said winder, coldly. "it is not much to ask," pleaded webster; "i am to die, and am prepared, but, sir, for god's sake let me not die like this; change but the manner of my death, and no murmur shall escape my lips." "i cannot alter the sentence that has been ordered." mrs. lawton, who was present, and unable further to restrain herself, exclaimed: "general, as a woman i appeal to you--you have the power, and can exercise it. do not, i pray you, condemn this brave man to the odium of a felon's death. think of his family, and his suffering. let the manliness of your own heart plead for him. it is not much that he asks. he does not sue for pardon. he seeks not to escape your judgment, harsh and cruel as it is. he only prays to be allowed to die like a brave man in the service of his country. you certainly can lose nothing by granting this request, therefore, in the name of justice and humanity, let him be shot instead of the dreadful death you have ordained for him." while she was speaking, the hard lines about the rebel's mouth grew still more harsh and rigid. he did not attempt to interrupt her, but when she had finished, he turned coolly upon his heel, and, as he reached the door he said: "his request and yours must be denied. he hangs to-morrow." "then," ejaculated the undaunted woman, "he will die like a man, and his death will be upon your head,--a living curse until your own dark hour shall come!" without deigning to notice them further, he passed out of the cell, violently closing the door behind him. the shadows of the night came down over the prison. the last night on earth to a brave man who had met death in a hundred forms ere this. how many times the gaunt, repulsive form of the fatal scaffold, appeared to the vision of the condemned man, as he sat firm and rigid in his dark cell, we may not know. how many times he lived over again the bright scenes of his past life! the happy, careless days of childhood, when the fond eyes of a loving mother beamed upon him in his sportive gambols. his school days, the lessons conned by the evening lamp in the dear old home of long ago. the merry days of youth, which glided away amid scenes of mirth and jollity. the first dawnings of the passion of his life, when a soft hand nestled lovingly in his, and earnest eyes, full of love and trust, seemed to speak a world of affection. then the stirring scenes of active life, he a man among men battling with the world, performing his daily duties, mingling honorably with his fellows, and upheld by a pride of honor and self-respect. his sacrifices for his country in the dark hour of her peril. the lonely marches, the weary burdens, the unflinching steadfastness of his fealty to his government. the long nights of storm and danger, the varying episodes of pleasure and of pain, conflicts with enemies, and happy hours with friendly companions--all these thoughts came upon him with a distinctness which brought their actual presence near. now he was listening to the sweet lullaby of his mother's voice, now he stood in the hall of the "sons of liberty," in the midst of affrighted conspirators and blue-coated soldiers--anon he strayed by a purling stream, with a loved one upon his arm--and again he breasted the dashing waters and the deluging storm on the bay, as he rescued the women and children from the stranded boat. so vivid were these pictures of his mind that he lived again a hundred scenes of his past life, partook of a hundred pleasures, shared in a hundred sorrows. suddenly in the midst of some thrilling vision of by-gone days, the flickering of his lamp or the tread of the sentry outside would recall him from a delightful reverie to the dark and dreadful present. then gloomy and despondent thoughts would come to him. he would picture minutely the scenes of the morrow, the rude platform, the dangling noose, the armed soldiers, the hideous black cap, the springing of the gallows trap. then, unable to bear the agony of his thoughts, he would start to his feet, press his hands to his ears, as if to drown the fearful sounds, and pace rapidly the narrow cell. mrs. lawton never left him; ever alert to his needs, ever ready with sustaining words, although her own brave, tender heart was breaking, she did her utmost to strengthen and sustain him. gradually he became calmer. the slow moving hours passed on, and he resolutely performed the last duties that devolved upon him. messages were confided to his unwavering nurse for the dear friends at home; expressions of love and regard for his kindred, and unswerving breathings of devotion to his country. "tell major allen that i met my fate like a man. thank him for his many acts of kindness to me. i have done my duty, and i can meet death with a brave heart and a clear conscience." the first faint streaks of the early dawn came in through the grated window; the sun was rising in the heavens, brightly and gloriously lighting up a day that should have been shrouded in gloom. its beams illumined the little chamber, where webster lay calm and wakeful, his hands clasped by the woman who had so nobly shared his captivity. a silence had fallen upon them. each was busy with thoughts which lips could not utter, and the death-like stillness was undisturbed save by the tramp of the guards in the corridor. suddenly there came the sound of hurried footsteps. they paused before the door. the heavy bolts were shot back, and in the doorway stood cap. alexander, the officer in charge. the little clock that ticked upon the wall noted a quarter past five o'clock. "come, webster, it is time to go." there was no sympathy in the rough voice which uttered these words. "to go where?" inquired webster, starting up in surprise. "to the fair grounds," was the laconic reply. "surely not at this hour," pleaded the condemned man; "the earliest moment named in my death-warrant is six o'clock, and you certainly will not require me to go before that." "it is the order of general winder, and i must obey," answered alexander. "you must prepare yourself at once." without another word webster arose from his bed, and began his preparations. not a tremor was apparent, and his hand was as steady and firm as iron. when he had fully arranged his toilet, he turned to mrs. lawton, and taking both her hands in his he murmured: "good-bye, dear friend; we shall never meet again on earth. god bless you, and your kindness to me. i will be brave, and die like a man. farewell, forever!" then turning to captain alexander, who stood unmoved near the door, he said: "i am ready!" as they went out through the door, a piercing shriek rent the air, and mrs. lawton fell prostrate to the floor. arriving at the entrance to the prison, they found a company of cavalry drawn up before them, and a carriage, procured by mrs. lawton, awaiting their appearance. webster crossed the pavement with unfaltering step and entered the vehicle, the order to march was given, and the procession started for the scene of execution. at camp lee, the scene was one of bustle and excitement. soldiers were moving about in companies, and in small detachments. eager spectators were there, curious to watch the proceedings, and the streets leading to the grounds were lined with people whose prevailing emotion seemed to be that of idle curiosity. on arriving at the camp, webster was conducted into a small room, on the ground floor of one of the buildings, and was left alone with the clergyman who had been requested to accompany him. thus he remained for several hours. at ten minutes past eleven, the carriage was drawn up before the door, and webster appeared leaning upon the arm of the jailer, and attended by his spiritual adviser. the doomed man wore a look of calm composure. his face was pale, and the feebleness of his condition was manifest in his tottering walk; but his eye was clear and steady and not a muscle of his face betrayed his emotion. they reached the scaffold, which was erected on the north side of the parade ground. slowly and painfully he ascended to the platform. amid a breathless silence, he stood for a moment and gazed about him. the bright blue sky overhead, the muskets of the soldiers glistening in the rays of the sun, the white, eager faces which surrounded him. his last look on earth. though much exhausted by his long illness, he stood alone and firmly whilst his arms were tied behind him and his feet were bound together. the black cap was placed over his head, and then followed a moment of solemn stillness. the entire assembly seemingly ceased to breathe. the signal was given, the trap was sprung, and, with a dreadful, sickening thud, webster fell from the gibbet to the ground beneath. the hang-man's knot had slipped, and the man, bound hand and foot, lay in a confused heap, limp and motionless, before the gathered throng. he was lifted up and carried to the scaffold. "i suffer a double death," came from the lips of the dying man as he was again placed upon the readjusted trap. the rope was again placed around his neck, this time so tight as to be excruciatingly painful. "you will choke me to death this time," came in gurgling tones from within the enveloping hood. in a second the trap was again sprung, and the brave patriot was swinging in the air, between heaven and earth. rebel vengeance was at last satisfied, the appetite for human blood was sated. treason had done its worst, and the loyal spy was dead. early in the afternoon, captain alexander returned to the prison, and informed mrs. lawton that all was over. he found her deathly pale, but now firm, and giving no other outward sign of the agony of the past few hours. "may i see him before he is taken away?" she asked. "there is no objection to that." accompanying the officer, she went to the room in which the body lay, incased in a metallic coffin which mrs. lawton had procured. his face was not discolored in the least, and the features indicated the same roman firmness which he exhibited when he left the prison. he died as he had lived--a brave man. several rebel officers stood around the coffin. turning suddenly upon them, and facing captain alexander, mrs. lawton, in a burst of passion, exclaimed: "murderers! this is your work. if there is vengeance or retribution in this world, you will feel it before you die!" as if stung to the quick by this accusation, captain alexander stepped up to the coffin, and laying his hand upon webster's cold, white forehead, said: "as sure as there is a god in heaven, i am innocent of this deed. i did nothing to bring this about, and simply obeyed my orders in removing him from the prison to the place of execution." application was made to general winder for the privilege of sending webster's body to the north, where it might be buried by his friends; but this the rebel officer peremptorily refused. a petition was then made that it be allowed to be placed in the vault in richmond, with no better success. not content with heaping ignominy upon him while living, the fiend was determined that even in death the patriot should be the subject of odium and contempt. in the dead hour of the night, he ordered the remains to be carried away, and buried in an obscure corner of the pauper's burying-ground. farewell, brave spirit! i knew thee well. brave, tender and true; thou hast suffered in a glorious cause, and died a martyr's death. thy memory will long be green in the hearts of thy friends. when treason is execrated, and rebellion is scorned and despised, the tears of weeping friends will bedew the sod which rests above the martyred spy of the rebellion--timothy webster. after the war was over, and peace once more reigned throughout the land, i procured his body, and it now lies in the soil of a loyal state--the shrine of the patriot--the resting-place of a hero. but little more remains to be told. after weary months of captivity, mrs. lawton, price lewis and john scully, were sent to the north, where their stories were told, and from whose lips i learned the particulars i have narrated. chapter xxxvii. _the defeat of general pope at the second battle of manassas.--mcclellan again called to the command.--the battle of antietam.--a union victory.--a few thoughts about the union commander.--mcclellan's removal from command and his farewell address._ on the second day of september, , the following order was issued: "war department, adj't.-gen.'s office, "washington, sept. , . "major-general mcclellan will have command of the fortifications of washington, and of all the troops for the defense of the capital. "by order of "e. d. townsend, "maj.-gen. halleck. ass't. adj't.-gen." at this time the federal troops, under general pope, were retreating in great disorder from the disastrous defeat in the virginia campaign, and the roads leading to washington were, for the second time during the war, filled with stragglers from the ranks, making their way to the capital. it will be remembered that while mcclellan and the main eastern army were in the peninsula, the divisions of mcdowell, fremont and banks were, by orders of the government, held near washington, for the protection of the national capital. on the th day of july, these forces were consolidated as the army of virginia, and placed under the command of general pope. this army was guarding the line of the rapidan. soon after the retreat of the union army under general mcclellan, the confederates, in august, , began to move towards washington. stonewall jackson, leading the advance of the southern army, attacked banks' force at cedar mountain, on the th day of august. banks, however, was able to hold jackson in check for some time; but the main body of the rebels arriving, banks was compelled to retreat. lee now pressed heavily upon pope, who retreated northward from every position then held by him. when this movement became known to the authorities, general mcclellan was ordered to hastily ship the army of the potomac back to washington, and so persistent was general halleck in his orders to that effect, that at the second battle of manassas mcclellan found himself completely stripped of his army--literally without a command--and compelled to submit to the mortification of listening to the roar of the battle from afar, and without being allowed to participate in its conflicts. some idea of his feelings may be learned from a dispatch sent by him to general halleck at this time: "i cannot express to you the pain and mortification i have experienced to-day, in listening to the distant sound of the fighting of my men. as i can be of no further use here, i respectfully ask that if there is a probability of the conflict being renewed to-morrow, i may be permitted to go to the scene of battle with my staff, merely to be with my own men, if nothing more; they will fight none the worse for my being with them. if it is not deemed best to intrust me with the command even of my own army, i simply ask to be permitted to share their fate upon the field of battle." these appeals, however, were utterly disregarded. gen. pope was to command the army, and to do the fighting, and in the end the contemptuous superiors of the heroic commander suffered a crushing defeat in the bloodiest battle of this campaign. the second battle of manassas was a most disastrous one, and on august - pope's army was utterly defeated. lee was now pressing forward, flushed with victory, and threatening washington. on the st of september the battle of chantilly was fought, and in which those brave generals, kearney and stevens, lost their lives. learning by bitter experience the culpable folly of ignoring the genius and bravery of mcclellan, and with the rebel army besieging the capital, general halleck, in the excess of fear, was forced to again call for the services of the gallant commander of the army of the potomac, and general mcclellan was once more placed in command of an army defeated and demoralized by the incompetency of its generals. the broken army of pope was now united with that of the army of the potomac, and the army of virginia ceased to exist as a separate organization. with the intense enthusiasm of the soldiers for mcclellan, he soon brought order out of chaos, and in an incredibly short space of time he faced them about, in orderly columns, and started to repel the invading army of lee, who was now crossing the potomac. from reports made by my operatives at this time, it was ascertained that lee had abandoned, if, indeed, he ever seriously entertained the idea of advancing directly upon the capital, and was now contemplating carrying the campaign into maryland. longstreet's division had left richmond about the th day of august for gordonsville, marching to orange court-house, he fell back to gordonsville. jackson fell back at the same time, and they both participated in the battle of manassas, and in the fighting that followed. jackson then crossed the river into maryland, before longstreet, who crossed a few days later, at or near edwards' ferry. on the th day of september, my operatives, who were watching the movement of the rebel army, reported that lee had his headquarters on the aldie turnpike, near dranesville; while jackson was near fairfax court-house. on the th, it was understood that the rebels had moved their entire army into virginia, and it was presumed that his objective point was baltimore. general mcclellan left washington on the th day of september, and established his headquarters at rockville, having first made all arrangements for the defense of washington, and placing general banks in command of the troops at that place. by this time it was known that the mass of the rebel army had passed up the south side of the potomac river, in the direction of leesburg, and that a part of the army had crossed the river into maryland. the uncertainty of lee's intentions greatly distracted the authorities at washington for the safety of that city, and they were fearful that he would make a feint towards pennsylvania, and then suddenly seize the opportunity to attack the capital. some writers have animadverted freely upon the alleged "slowness" of mcclellan's movements up the potomac, and his "delay" in offering battle to lee before the latter had time to unite his army and occupy the strong position he held at antietam; but they persistently ignore the fact that the dispatches from the commander-in-chief at washington, to mcclellan in the field, from the th to the th of september, were filled with cautions against a too hasty advance, and the consequent impropriety of exposing washington to an attack. indeed, it seems evident to me, when i regard the career of the army of the potomac, that had those in power in washington been less concerned for their own safety, and trusted more to the skill and sagacity of the general in the field to direct its movements, the history of that army would have been widely different from what it is. the campaign of the peninsula terminated disastrously to the union arms, and it was mainly due to this real or assumed fear of the authorities for the safety of washington. it is not presuming too much to say, that mcclellan knew far better than those at washington the movements and intentions of the enemy, and that he was apprised of them sooner; but it is equally true that a certain element in the cabinet was unfriendly to the secret service branch of the army, and, with characteristic stubbornness, placed but little reliance upon the information obtained from this source. for instance, general halleck was of the opinion, on the evening of the day before antietam, that lee's whole force had crossed the river, and so telegraphed mcclellan, when the fact was that the rebel army was actually in our front, and ready for the battle that so speedily followed. still, the importance of moving with extreme caution was kept constantly in view, and the army was moved so that it extended from the railroad to the potomac river, the extreme left flank resting on that stream. on the twelfth of september, a portion of the right wing of the army entered frederick, md., and on the following day the main body of the right and the center wings arrived, only to find that the enemy had marched out of the place two days before, taking the roads to boonesboro' and harper's ferry. lee had left a force to dispute the possession of the passes, through which the roads across south mountain ran, while he had dispatched jackson to effect the capture of harper's ferry. in these plans he was partially frustrated, for, while jackson succeeded in capturing harper's ferry, mcclellan drove the rebel troops from the passes, after short but vigorous engagements at south mountain, on september th, but failed in his efforts to relieve harper's ferry, and that place was surrendered on the following day. immediately following the actions at south mountain, lee, being closely pressed by mcclellan, turned at bay in the beautiful valley of the antietam. here he resolved to endeavor to hold his position until he could concentrate his army. his forces at this time numbered about forty thousand men. on the sixteenth, he was reinforced by jackson's gallant corps, numbering about five thousand men, which, together with other reinforcements, received during the day, swelled his numbers to fifty thousand men, which, in the language of one of their own writers, constituted "the very flower of the army of northern virginia." our own forces did not exceed eighty-five thousand men, and it is but correct to say that not seventy thousand were actually engaged on the day of the great battle. my own judgment is, that at no time during the fight was the confederate army ever confronted by a force outnumbering their own. confederate writers have sought to make it appear that lee, at antietam, fought and practically defeated a force in excess of his own in the ratio of three to one. this assertion is proven to be a glaring error, for the facts are that the odds were less than three to two, even in point of actual numerical strength present, while, all things considered, these were reduced until the two armies faced each other on the morning of antietam pretty evenly opposed, and with no decided advantage in favor of either contestant. to explain: taking it for granted that mcclellan had eighty-seven thousand men at roll-call on the morning of the seventeenth, it is now known that the battle was mainly fought by the first, second, ninth and twelfth corps, while the fifth and sixth corps and the cavalry division were scarcely used at all. in addition to this, it should be remembered that ours was the attacking force; that the enemy occupied a chosen position, and therefore, in this view of the situation, the odds were by no means great in favor of the federal troops. [illustration: "_my horse was shot under me while crossing the stream._" p. ] on the morning of the sixteenth, being then at headquarters, and desiring to learn from personal observation something of the position of the enemy, i accompanied a party of cavalry sent out to reconnoitre across the antietam. here it was discovered that the enemy had changed the position of some of their batteries, while their left and center were upon and in front of the sharpsburg and hagerstown turnpike, and their extreme left rested upon the wooded heights near the cross-roads to the north. while returning from this reconnoitering expedition, fire was opened upon us from a masked battery upon the hill, and my horse, a beautiful sorrel, that had carried me for months, and to which i was much attached, was shot from under me while i was crossing the stream. several of the men who accompanied me were seriously wounded, and i narrowly escaped with my life. the next morning, at early dawn, the battle commenced, and raged with unabated fury until nightfall, when the rebels withdrew, and our soldiers slept that night upon a dearly won, yet decisively victorious field. mcclellan determined not to renew the attack upon the following day, for which his critics have censured him severely; yet, i am satisfied, that not a few writers, who have fought, _on paper_, the battle of antietam, just as it should have been fought in their own estimation, have not, in a single instance, given the subject more painful and anxious thought than did the general himself, during all that night, while his weary troops lay resting on their arms, on a field covered with their own and their enemy's dead. no better reasons can be assigned, and, indeed, none better need be given for the course he pursued, than he, himself, has stated in his own report of that battle. he says: "i am aware of the fact, that, under ordinary circumstances, a general is expected to risk a battle if he has a reasonable prospect of success; but at this critical juncture, i should have had a narrow view of the condition of the country, had i been willing to hazard another battle with less than an absolute assurance of success. at that moment, virginia lost, washington menaced, maryland invaded, the national cause could afford no risks of defeat. one battle lost, and almost all would have been lost. lee's army might then have marched as it pleased on baltimore, washington, philadelphia or new york. it could have levied its supplies from a fertile and undevastated country, extorted tribute from wealthy and populous cities, and nowhere east of the alleghanies was there another organized force able to arrest its march." the day after the battle, however, general mcclellan gave orders for a renewal of the attack on the morning of the nineteenth; but when morning dawned, it was discovered that the rebels had suddenly abandoned their position and retreated across the river, leaving nearly three thousand of their unburied dead on the late field of battle. thirteen guns, thirty-nine colors, upwards of fifteen thousand stand of small arms, and more than six thousand prisoners, were taken in the battles of south mountain, crampton's gap and antietam, while not a single gun or color was lost by our troops in any of these encounters. the battle of antietam, in its effects, was a brilliant and decisive victory for the union arms, as it was a terrible blow to the south, who had expected much from lee's sudden and daring invasion of a loyal state; and their losses, from the time they first invaded maryland until the end of the battle of antietam, were in the neighborhood of thirty thousand men. whatever, therefore, has been said by unfriendly critics, concerning general mcclellan's achievements, they must be regarded by the intelligent and fair-minded student of history, as far from being failures. nor were they merely the achievements of an ordinary man. it is an easy, and no doubt a tempting task, nearly twenty years after a battle has occurred, and with the knowledge and materials now at hand, for writers to fight this battle over again, and point out alleged blunders here and there, and in their vivid, and not always truthful, imaginations conduct affairs as they should have been conducted. it may be safely asserted, that no general in the history of the nation was ever so shamefully treated by his government, as was general mcclellan. with a brave and noble devotion, and with a self-sacrificing love for his country and her flag, he fearlessly offered his life and his services in sustaining the honor of the one, and the perpetuity of the other. reviewing his career from the date of his taking command of all the armies, down to the close of the battle of antietam, he received the bitter opposition of the cabinet, and the ill-concealed enmity of the politicians; and scarcely had he been called to this important position, than his enemies began working to effect his downfall. with such persistence and success did they devote themselves to their task, that by the time he had his army of the potomac ready for the field, they had practically deposed him as the commander-in-chief. his plans of the campaign were required to be submitted to a body of twelve of his subordinates for approval, and this ridiculous proceeding ended in their adoption by a vote of eight to four. the next day the enemy abandoned manassas, a move which was the result of direct treason, or, at least, criminal indiscretion on the part of some member of that commission, either directly or indirectly. after his plans were adopted, and their execution commenced, he was hampered and distressed by orders from his superiors at washington, conflicting with his own well formed ideas and deranging his carefully prepared plans in the field. he, however, bore all these things patiently, and at all times faithfully endeavored to do the very best, under the adverse circumstances which surrounded him. he, however, at all times, had the courage to speak his convictions, knowing the purity of his own actions, notwithstanding the fact that he was frequently called upon to execute orders that his own better judgment convinced him were conceived in ignorance or malice, and which could but do harm to him and to the cause he loved. on july , , we find him writing to the president his views on the conduct of the war. he said: "in carrying out any system of policy which you may form, you will require a commander-in-chief of the army, one who possesses your confidence, understands your views, and who is competent to execute your orders by directing the military forces of the nation to the accomplishment of the objects by you proposed. i do not ask that place for myself, i am willing to serve you in such position as you may assign me, and i will do so as faithfully as ever subordinate served superior. i may be on the brink of eternity, and as i hope for forgiveness from my maker, i have written this letter from sincerity towards you, and from love for my country." through all his correspondence, while in the field, with his superiors, there breathed a spirit of earnest and sincere devotion to country; and rarely was he tempted to utter words which proved how sorely he was tried and how much he resented the interference of incompetent authority. when pushed beyond all control by the foolish, unfriendly and unjust course of those at washington, and when their interference had caused the failure of his plans, he wrote to secretary of war stanton, "you have done your best to sacrifice this army," and even then the words were written more in a tone of regret than of anger. nearly a month later, when the order was issued for the withdrawal of the army of the potomac before richmond, under the full force of his convictions, he uttered a manly protest against such action, and entreated that the order might be rescinded. "all points," said he, "of secondary importance elsewhere should be abandoned, and every available man brought here. a decided victory here and the strength of the rebellion is crushed, it matters not what partial reverses we may meet with elsewhere. _here is the true defense of washington; it is here, on the banks of the james, that the fate of the union should be decided._ clear in my convictions of right, strong in the consciousness that i have ever been and still am actuated by love of my country,... i do now, what i never did in my life before, i entreat that this order may be rescinded." how true these words were, and how prophetic their scope, may be proven by the words of general sheridan several years later. when grant was compelled at last to adopt the very plans of mcclellan, thus giving as practical a vindication of that general as could be desired, sheridan sent a message to grant, but a little while before the surrender, urging him to come with all the force he could command in pursuit of lee, saying, "_here is the end of the rebellion._" a fit corollary to mcclellan's dispatch from james river to halleck: "_here, directly in front of this army, is the heart of the rebellion._" no general in this country, or in any other, was more universally beloved and admired by his troops, and no commander ever returned that affection with more warmth than did mcclellan. troops that under other commanders suffered defeat after defeat, until dismayed and discouraged they fled to washington, followed by a pursuing and exultant enemy, were in a few days, by his magical influence over them, again transformed into brave and hopeful soldiers, ready to follow anywhere their trusted commander might lead. it is a strange fact, but a fact, nevertheless, that the army of the potomac received all its good words, words of cheer and encouragement, from mcclellan alone. those in power at the capital were painfully blind to its sufferings on the toilsome march, or its deeds of valor on the bloody field. after the battle of antietam, and after the army of the potomac had driven lee from maryland, general mcclellan telegraphed his chief as follows: "i have the honor to report that maryland is entirely freed from the presence of the enemy, who has been driven across the potomac. no fears need now be entertained for the safety of pennsylvania; i shall at once occupy harper's ferry." two days later, receiving no word of acknowledgement for his troops, whom he felt had earned them from the commander-in-chief, he, in a telegram of september th, said: "i regret that you have not yet found leisure to say one word in commendation of the recent achievements of this army or even to allude to them." before this, he had taken occasion to remind general halleck of the fact that the army deserved some credit for its labors, and appreciated any acknowledgment of the same which the commander-in-chief might make. on august th, , and after the fighting before richmond, he wrote to general halleck as follows: "please say a kind word to my army, that i can repeat to them in general orders, in regard to their conduct at yorktown, williamsburg, west point, hanover court-house, and on the chickahominy, as well as in regard to the seven days, and the recent retreat. no one has ever said anything to cheer them but myself. say nothing about me; merely give my men and officers credit for what they have done. it will do you much good, and strengthen you much with them, if you issue a handsome order to them in regard to what they have accomplished. they deserve it." is it any wonder, then, that the army exhibited such splendid enthusiasm for their leader, when they, above all others, were fully acquainted with his character as a man and a general? self was his last and least consideration. always mindful of the comfort of his men, yet inculcating, by his splendid discipline, the essential requisites of the true soldier, he led his troops through the campaigns of the peninsula and of maryland, achieving a record that was a credit to him, his army, and the nation, and is an enduring monument to the faithful devotion and the gallant services of the army of the potomac. i cannot close this chapter in more fitting words than those used by general mcclellan, in his brief and affectionate farewell to his officers and men, after the battle of antietam, when, having won a victory at a critical period, he was, as a reward, relieved from his command. "november th, . "officers and soldiers of the army of the potomac: "an order of the president devolves upon major-general burnside the command of this army. in parting from you i cannot express the love and gratitude i bear you. as an army, you have grown up under my care. in you i have never found doubt or coldness. the battles you have fought under my command will proudly live in our nation's history. the glory you have achieved, our mutual perils and fatigues, the graves of our comrades fallen in battle and by disease, the broken forms of those whom wounds and sickness have disabled--the strongest associations which can exist among men--unite us still by an indissoluble tie. we shall ever be comrades in supporting the constitution of our country and the nationality of its people." chapter xxxviii. _general burnside in command.--my connection with the secret service severed.--reflections upon important events.--conclusion._ on the evening of the seventh of november, following the battle of antietam, general mcclellan was removed from the command of the army of the potomac. after having spent weeks in the laborious effort of reorganizing his forces, which had been severely shattered and weakened by the hard marching and the still harder fighting in the recent battles with lee, the brave commander, upon the eve of an important forward movement was deprived of his noble army. general burnside was named as his successor. again had the political cabal at washington succeeded in their opposition to the noble commander of the army of the potomac, and this time effectually. mcclellan's tardiness was the alleged cause of his removal. no one in authority seemed to consider for a moment the necessity, which was apparent to their immediate commander, of affording the federal troops an opportunity to recuperate from their exhausted condition. the serious losses sustained at south mountain, crampton's gap, and antietam had left the army badly disorganized, and the privations and hardships to which they had been subjected, rendered a delay, for the purpose of allowing the worn and weary soldiers time to rest and recuperate, an absolute necessity. in the language of mcclellan, "the army had need of rest." after the terrible experiences of battles and marches, with scarcely an interval of repose, which they had gone through from the time of leaving the peninsula; the return to washington; the defeat in virginia; the victory at south mountain, and again at antietam, it was not surprising that they were, in a large degree, destitute of the absolute necessities for effective duty. shoes were worn out; blankets were lost; clothing was in rags; the army was unfit for duty, and time for rest and equipment was absolutely necessary. mcclellan at once notified the authorities of the condition of his troops, and made the necessary requisitions on the proper departments for the needed supplies. for some unaccountable reason--unaccountable to this day--the supplies ordered were so slow in reaching the men, that when, on the seventh of october, the command came for him to cross the river into virginia, and give battle to the enemy, a compliance with the order was practically impossible. then, too, re-enforcements were needed. in ordering the advance, the president, through the general-in-chief, had submitted two plans, of which mcclellan could take his choice. one was to advance up the valley of the shenandoah with reenforcements of fifteen thousand troops, the other was to cross the river between the enemy and washington, in which case he was to be reenforced with thirty thousand men. mcclellan's first inclination was to adopt the movement up the shenandoah valley, believing, that, if he crossed the river into virginia, lee would be enabled to promptly prevent success in that direction by at once throwing his army into maryland. owing, however, to the delay of the supplies in reaching the army, it was nearly the end of october before the troops were ready to move. about the twenty-sixth, the army commenced to cross at harper's ferry, and by the sixth of november the advance upon the enemy was begun. on the night of the seventh, therefore, when the order came relieving him from the command, mcclellan's advance guard was actually engaged with the enemy. i had already learned that longstreet was immediately in our front, near culpepper, while jackson and hill's forces were near chester's and thornton's gap, west of the blue ridge. mcclellan had formed the plan of attempting to divide the enemy, with the hope of forcing him to battle, when it was believed, an easy victory would be achieved. at this juncture, however, and when the army was in an excellent condition to fight a great battle, when officers and men were enthusiastic in their hopes of being able soon to strike an effective blow, mcclellan was removed, and stanton had, at last, accomplished his revenge. not only this, but he had also secured the failure of, what was undoubtedly destined to be, a great and decisively victorious campaign. mcclellan's plan on discovering the position of the enemy's forces, was to strike in between culpepper court house and little washington, hoping by this means to separate the rebel army, or at least to force their retreat to gordonsville, and then advance upon richmond, either by way of fredericksburg or the peninsula. burnside, on assuming the command, submitted a plan of his own, which was to make a feint of doing, what mcclellan really intended to do, before adopting the move upon fredericksburg or the peninsula, and then to advance from fredericksburg. this plan, however, did not meet the approval of general halleck. that general had a long conference with burnside, at warrenton. here their various plans were discussed, without either agreeing to the plan of the other, and the matter was finally referred to the president for his decision. after a further delay of several days, mr. lincoln adopted burnside's plan, and the advance was ordered. the success of this plan depended upon the immediate possession of fredericksburg by the federal army. the intelligent student knows full well that this was not even _attempted_ until lee had ample time to heavily re-enforce the rebel army already there. the subsequent results show burnside's delay to have been fatal to his success. there was a time when he could certainly have taken fredericksburg, with but little loss; but that time was passed when he permitted the enemy to fully garrison the place, and make ample provision for its defense with an army of nearly ninety thousand men. at this time, however, my connection with the army of the potomac, and with the military concerns of the government, ceased. upon the removal of general mcclellan, i declined to act any further in the capacity in which i had previously served, although strongly urged to do so by both president lincoln and the secretary of war, edwin m. stanton. from my earliest manhood, i had been an ardent and active abolitionist, and i have endeavored to demonstrate this fact throughout these pages. my deep admiration, therefore, for general mcclellan, was the result of my knowledge, of my intimate acquaintance with him, and a consequent high regard, based upon his innate and intrinsic qualities, both as a man and a soldier, and not from any political affinity whatever. refusing longer to continue with the army under its new commander, i was afterwards employed by the government in the work of investigating the numerous claims that were presented against the united states. while acting in this capacity, i was instrumental in unearthing a vast number of fraudulent claims, and, in bringing to justice a large number of men who were engaged in the base attempt to swindle and defraud the nation in the dark hours of her need and peril. in the spring of , i was transferred to the department of the mississippi, under general canby, and my headquarters were located at new orleans. here i was engaged in looking after cotton claims, and the frauds which were sought to be perpetrated against the government in that region of the country. in , i severed my connection with the "secret service of the united states," and returned to chicago, where i have since been engaged in the active prosecution of my profession as a detective. very often, as i sit in the twilight, my mind reverts back to those stirring scenes of by-gone days; to those years of war and its consequent hardships, and i recall with pleasure my own connection with the suppression of the rebellion. my subsequent life has been none the less happy because of my having assisted, as best as i could, in putting down that gigantic act of attempted disunion, and in upholding the flag of our fathers. more than all do i rejoice in the freedom it brought to nearly half a million of people, who, prior to that time, had been held in inhuman bondage,--striking the shackles from their bruised limbs, and placing them before the law free and independent. my task is done. in a few brief pages i have attempted to depict the work of years. the war is over, the rebellion has been crushed, peace and plenty are everywhere apparent. the flag of the union floats from every port in the united states, the slave is free, the south is recovering from the ravages of war, and the stories of those stirring times seem now like the legends of an olden time. * * * * * one more scene remains, and i will then draw the curtain. it is a sabbath morning, the air is fragrant with blossom and flower, the birds are carolling sweetly a requiem for the dead. around us, sleeping the sleep that knows no waking, lie the forms of those whom we knew and loved. we are in the "city of the dead." the wind sighs through the waving branches of the trees, with a mournful melody, suggestive of the place. near by is the bustling city, but here we are surrounded only by the mute, though eloquent testimonies of man's eternal rest. here beneath a drooping willow let us pause awhile. flowers are blooming over a mound of earth, saturating the atmosphere with a grateful aroma. let us lean over while we read what is inscribed upon the marble tablet. sacred to the memory of timothy webster, who was executed as a spy, by the rebels, in richmond, va., april , , after gallant service in the war of the rebellion. he sealed his fidelity and devotion to his country with his blood. alike to him are the heats of summer, or the snows of winter. peacefully and quietly he sleeps. the spy of the rebellion is at rest. appendix. the hardships and privations of a detective's life every person who may have survived the experience has undoubtedly a lively recollection of the wild groups of people which the building of the union and central pacific railroads brought together from all directions, and from all causes. there were millions upon millions of dollars to be expended; and as the points of construction neared each other, and the twin bands of iron crept along the earth's surface like two huge serpents, spanning mighty rivers, penetrating vast mountains, and trailing through majestic forests, creeping slowly but surely towards each other, there was always the greatest dread at the most advanced points, which, like the heads of serpents, always contained danger and death; and the vast cities of a day that then sprang into existence, and melted away like school-children's snow-houses, were the points where such wild scenes were enacted as will probably never again occur in the history of railroad building. everything contributed to make these places typical of babelic confusion, or pandemoniac contention. foreigners were told of the exhaustless work, and the exhaustless wealth, of this new country which was being so rapidly developed, and they came; men--brave men, too--who had been on the wrong side during the late irritation, and who had lost all, having staked all on the result of the war, saw a possible opportunity of retrieving their fortunes rapidly, and they came; the big-headed youth of the village whose smattering of books at the academy, or the seminary, had enlarged his brain and contracted his sense so that he was too good for the common duties and everyday drudgeries which, with patience, lead to success, learned of the glory and grandeur of that new land, and he came; the speculating shirk and the peculating clerk came; the almond-eyed sons of the orient in herds--herds of quick-witted, patient, plodding beings who could be beaten, starved, even murdered--came; the forger, the bruiser, the counterfeiter, the gambler, the garroter, the prostitute, the robber, and the murderer, each and every, came; there was adventure for the adventurous, gold for the thief, waiting throats for the murderer; while the few respectable people quickly became discouraged, and fell into the general looseness of habits that the loose life engendered, and gradually grew reckless as the most reckless, or quickly acquiesced in the wild orgies or startling crimes which were of common occurrence. in fact, as in the human system, when any portion of it becomes diseased and all the poison in the blood flows to it, further corrupting and diseasing it until arrested by a gradual purification of the whole body, or by some severe treatment, so from every portion of the country flowed these streams of morally corrupt people, until nearly every town west of missouri, or east of the mountains, along these lines, became a terror to honest people, and continued so until an irresistible conflict compelled a moral revulsion, sometimes so sweeping and violent as to cause an application of that unwritten, though often exceedingly just law, the execution of which leaves offenders dangling to limbs of trees, lamp-posts, and other convenient points of suspension. as a rule, in these places, every man, whatever his business and condition, was thoroughly armed, the question of self-defense being a paramount one, from the fact that laws which governed older communities were completely a dead letter; and the law of might, in a few instances made somewhat respectable by a faint outline of ruffianly honor, alone prevailed, until advancing civilization and altered conditions brought about a better state of society; so that in these reckless crowds which pushed after the constantly changing termini of the approaching roads, any instrument of bloodshed was considered valuable, and stores where arms and ammunition could be secured did quite as large a trade as those devoted to any other branch of business; while so outrageous was the price extorted for these instruments of aggression or defense, that they have often been known to sell for their weight in gold; and just as, during the war, the army was followed by enterprising traders who turned many an honest penny trafficking at the heels of the weary soldiers, so the same class of people were not slow to take advantage of such opportunities for gigantic profits which, though often lessened by the many risks run in such trading, were still heavy enough to prove peculiarly attractive. as a consequence, there were many firms engaged in this particular business, but probably the heaviest was that of kuhn brothers, who were reported to be worth upwards of one hundred thousand dollars, which had principally been made along the line of the road, and who, with headquarters at cheyenne, had established various "stores" at different points as the union pacific was pushed on, always keeping the largest stock at the most advanced point, and withdrawing stocks from the paper cities which had been left behind, though only in those towns which had not been altogether destroyed by the periodical exodus occasioned by each change of terminus. for this reason the firms were obliged to entrust their business to the honesty of many different employés, who were subject to the vitiating influences and temptations, which were unusual and severe under the circumstances already mentioned, while the distances between the points, and the scarcity of secure means of safely keeping the large sums of money which would occasionally unavoidably accrue at certain points, left kuhn brothers, in many instances, really dependent on those dependent on them. in this condition of affairs, and after a slight defalcation had occurred at one of their smaller stores in the spring of , the firm were seeking a man whom they could place in actual charge of one or two of their establishments at the larger towns, and give a sort of general supervision over the others, when the senior member of the firm, being in laramie, casually met a young gentleman, who happened to be able to do him so great a favor that the incident led to a close friendship and ultimate business relations, eventually resulting in this narrative of facts. it was a pleasant may evening, and mr. kuhn had decided to returned to cheyenne in order to secure a proper man for the superintendency nearer home. he was to have left laramie for the east at a late hour of the evening and, being at a loss how to pass the intervening time, strolled out from the hotel with no particular destination in view and his mind fully occupied with the cares of his business, only occasionally noticing some peculiarity or strange sight more than usually striking among the thousands of weird things, to which his frontier business had compelled him to become accustomed, when suddenly he found himself in front of a mammoth dance-house, and, yielding to a momentary impulse of curiosity, turned into the place with the stream of gamblers, adventurers, greasers, and, in fact, everybody respectable or otherwise, who, so far from civilization, found such a place peculiarly attractive. the dance-house was a sort of hell's bazaar, if the term may be allowed--and it is certainly the one most befitting it--and was really no "house" at all, being merely a very large board enclosure covered with a gigantic tent or series of tents, bedecked with flags and gaudy streamers. the entrance fee to this elegant place of amusement was one dollar, and you had only paid an initiatory fee when you had gained admission. on either side as you entered were immense bars, built of the roughest of boards, where every kind of liquid poison was dispensed at the moderate sum of twenty-five cents a drink, five-cent cigars selling at the same price, and the united efforts of a half-dozen murderous looking bar-tenders at each side were required to assuage the thirst of the quite as murderous looking crowd that swayed back and forth within the space evidently prepared for that purpose. beyond this point, and to either side, as also down the center for some distance, could be found almost every known game of chance, dealt, of course, "by the house," while surrounding the lay-outs were every description of men crazed with drink, flushed with success, or deathly pale from sudden ruin; while everywhere the revolver or the bowie intimated with what terrible swiftness and certainty any trifling dispute, rankling grudge, or violent insult would be settled, one way or the other, and to be marked by the mere pitching of an inanimate form into the street! after these attractions came a stout partition which had evidently been found necessary, for beyond it there was the strikingly strange heaven of a mushroom city--a vast department where there were music and women; and it seemed that the "management" of this grand robbers' roost had shrewdly calculated on the fact that if a poor fool had not been swindled out of every dollar he might have had before he reached this point, those two elements, all powerful for good or evil the world over, would wring the last penny from him. here was another but a finer bar, where more time was taken to prepare a drink and drug a man with some show of artistic excellence, and where a half dollar was changed for a single measure of poison; women,--shrewd, devilish women who could shoot or cut, if occasion required, with the nicety and effect of a man,--"steering" every person giving token of having money in his possession to the more genteelly gotten up "lay-outs," and acting in the same capacity, only with far more successful results, as the ordinary "ropers-in" of any large city; a wild, discordant orchestra that would have been hooted out of the lowest of the "varieties" east of the missouri; but in this place, and to these ears, so long unused to the music of the far-away homes beyond the mississippi, producing the very perfection of enchanting harmonies; but above all, and the crowning attraction before which every other thing paled and dwindled to insignificance, a score of abandoned women, dancing and ogling with every manner of man, robbing them while embracing, cheering and drinking with them, and in every way bedeviling them; the whole forming a scene viler than imagination or the pen of man can conceive or picture; grouping of wild orgies and terrible debaucheries, such as would put lucifer to a blush, and compel a revolution in the lowest depths of hades. kuhn had strolled through the place, and now, out of compliment to general custom, purchased a cigar and was just turning to depart, when he suddenly found himself being hustled back and forth among several hard-looking fellows, who, evidently knowing his business, and surmising that he carried large sums of money upon his person, had determined to provoke him to resistance; when there would, according to the social codes then in existence at laramie, have been a just cause for either robbing and beating him, or murdering him outright and robbing him afterwards; when a tall, finely-formed man suddenly stepped into the crowd, and in a very decided tone of voice said: "i say, gentlemen, that won't do. you must stand back!" then taking the terror-stricken ammunition dealer by the coat collar with his left hand, but keeping his right hand free for quick use and certain work, if necessary, he trotted him through the now excited throng and out into the open air, hastily telling him to "cut for the hotel," which were quite unnecessary instructions, as he made for that point at as lively a gait as his rather dumpy legs could carry him. the person who had thus prevented the merchant's being robbed, and had also possibly saved his life, was a tall, comely young man of about twenty-eight years of age, and with a complexion as fair as a woman's, pleasant, though determined, blue eyes, and a long, reddish, luxuriant beard, all of which, with a decidedly military cut to his gray, woollen garments, and long fair hair falling upon his shoulders--the whole crowned, or rather slouched over, by a white hat of extraordinary width of brim, gave him the appearance of an ex-confederate officer, and right good fellow, as the term goes, perfectly capable of caring for himself wherever his fortune, or misfortune, might lead him, which proved the case as he turned and confronted the desperadoes, who had immediately followed him in a threatening manner, and whom he stood ready to receive with a navy revolver half as long as his arm, mysteriously whipped from some hiding-place, in each steady hand. a critical examination of the man as he stood there, and a very casual survey of him, for that matter, would have instantly suggested the fact to an ordinary observer that a very cool man at the rear ends of two navy revolvers huge enough to have been mounted for light-artillery service, was something well calculated to check the mounting ambition on the part of most anybody to punish him for the character of the interference shown; and the leader of the gang contented himself with remarking, "see here, captain harry, if it wasn't you, there'd be a reck'ning here; lively, too, i'm tellin' ye!" "well, but it _is_ me; and so there won't be any reck'ning. will there, now, eh?" the ruffians made no answer, but sullenly returned to the dance-house, when captain harry, as he had been called, rammed the two huge revolvers into his boot legs, which action displayed a smaller weapon of the same kind upon each hip; after which he nodded a pleasant "good-night" to the bystanders, and walked away leisurely in the direction mr. kuhn had taken, pleasantly whistling "the bonnie blue flag," or "the star spangled banner," as best suited him. the moment that mr. kuhn's protector appeared at the hotel, the former gentleman expressed his liveliest thanks for the opportune assistance he had been rendered, and introduced himself to the captain, who already knew of him, and who in return gave his name as "harry g. taylor, the man from somewhere," as he himself expressed it with a pleasant laugh. it was easy to be seen that there was a stroke of business in mr. kuhn's eye, which his escape from the dance-house had suggested, as he told taylor that he had intended to return to cheyenne that night; but he further stated that as he had so unexpectedly been befriended, he should certainly be obliged to remain another day in order to secure a further acquaintance with the man to whom he already owed so much. mr. kuhn then produced some choice cigars, and the gentlemen secured a retired place upon the hotel-porch, at once entering into a general conversation, which, from the merchant's evident unusual curiosity, and taylor's quite as evident good-humored, devil-may-care disposition, caused it to drift into the captain's account of himself. he told mr. kuhn that his family resided at that time in philadelphia, where they had moved after his father had failed in business at raleigh, n. c., but had taken so honorable a name with him to the former city that he had been able to retrieve his fortunes to some extent. the captain was born at raleigh, and had received his education in the south, and, being unable to share in his father's regard for the north, even as a portion of the country best adapted for doing business, sought out some of his old college friends in louisville, atlanta, and new orleans, who had been able to secure him a fine business position at atlanta, where by care and economy in , though but a mere boy yet, he had accumulated property that would have satisfied many a man twenty years his senior. being impulsive, and a warm admirer of southern institutions, he was one of the first men to join the confederate army at atlanta, and fought in a georgia regiment under johnson and hood during the entire war, at jonesville and rough-and-ready station seeing the smoke ascend above the ruins of the once beautiful city, and realizing that the most of his earthly possessions had disappeared when the flames died away. having been promoted to a captaincy, he had fought as bravely as he could against the "blue-coats," like a man, acknowledging their bravery as well as that of his comrades; and at the close of the war, which of course terminated disadvantageously to his interests, he had sold his lots at atlanta for whatever he could get for them, and with thousands of others in like circumstances, had come west and taken his chances at retrieving his fortunes. this was told in a frank, straightforward way, which seemed to completely captivate mr. kuhn, for he at once spoke to taylor concerning his business in laramie, and bluntly asked him, in the event of mutual and satisfactory references being exchanged, whether he would accept the engagement as superintendent of his business over that portion of the road, and take actual charge of the store in that place, and the one about to be established at benton city. the result of the evening's interview was the engagement of taylor by the firm at a large salary; his immediately taking supervision of the business without bonds or any security whatever; and for a time his management and habits were so able and irreproachable that, with the gratitude for his protection of mr. kuhn at laramie still fresh and sincere, the firm felt that they had been most fortunate in their selection of an utter stranger, and were in every way gratified with the turn events had taken. ii. during the early morning of a blustering december day of the same year, i was quite annoyed by the persistence of a gentleman to see me, on what he insisted, in the business office of my chicago agency, on terming "important business." it was not later than half-past eight o'clock; and, as i have made it a life-long practice to get at business at an early hour, get ahead of it, and keep ahead of it during the day, i was elbow-deep in the mass of letters, telegrams, and communications of a different nature, which, in my business, invariably accumulates during the night, and felt anxious to wade through it before taking up any other matter. the gentleman, who gave the name of kuhn, seemed very anxious to see me, however; and letting drop the statements that he greatly desired to take the morning train for cheyenne, where he resided; might not be able to be in chicago again for some time; felt very desirous of seeing me personally; and would require but a few moments to explain his business, which he agreed to make explicit; i concluded to drop everything else and see him. on being ushered into my private apartments, he at once hastily gave me an outline of the facts related in the previous chapter, adding a new series of incidents which occasioned his visit, and to the effect that the firm had made the necessary arrangements for increasing their business under their new superintendent, having added largely to their stock at laramie, and placed about twenty thousand dollars' worth of goods at benton city. according to the agreement, he was required to forward money whenever the sales had reached a stated sum at each point, and was given authority to take charge of goods or moneys on hand at any of the less important stations, when convinced that things were being run loosely, or whenever it in any way appeared for the interests of the firm for him to do so. it will be seen that under this arrangement, which was in every respect injudicious, no security having been given by taylor, he immediately became possessed of great responsibility, as well as power; but appeared to appreciate the unusual confidence reposed in him, and conducted the business of kuhn brothers with unusual profit to them and credit to himself. matters progressed in this way for some time, when suddenly, about the first of october, the firm at cheyenne began to receive dispatches from different employees along the road, inquiring when taylor was to return from cheyenne, and intimating that business was greatly suffering from his absence. the members of the firm were astonished. they knew nothing of taylor's being in cheyenne. on the contrary, their last advices from him were to the effect that he should be at their city on the tenth of that month, with large collections; and the announcement was accompanied with glowing accounts of the prosperity of their business under his careful management. after the startling intelligence of taylor's unaccountable absence, a member of the firm immediately left for laramie, benton city, and other points, to ascertain the true condition of affairs, still unable to believe that the handsome, chivalrous captain had wronged them, and that everything would be found right upon examination of matters which was immediately and searchingly entered upon; but the first glance at affairs showed conclusively that they had been swindled, and it was soon discovered that he had gathered together at the stores under his own charge, and at different points along the line, under various pretexts, fully fourteen thousand dollars, and had been given two weeks in which to escape. mr. kuhn did not desire to give the case into my hands on that morning; but explained that he had returned from a fruitless trip to philadelphia in search of his former superintendent, and had been advised by a telegram from his brothers to lay the case before me and request my advice about the matter; at the same time securing information about the probable pecuniary outlay necessary for further prosecution of the search, and such other items of information as would enable him to counsel with the remainder of the firm concerning the case, and be able to give the case into my hands, should they decide to do so, without further delay. this was given him; and i, in turn, secured from mr. kuhn all the information possible concerning taylor, which was scant indeed, as they had seen very little of him, could give but a very general description of the man, and here they had injudiciously given him over two months' start, during which time he might have safely got to the other side of the world. only one item of information had been developed by which a clue to his whereabouts could by any possibility be imagined. he had often spoken to mr. kuhn in the most glowing terms of life in both texas and mexico, as he had passed, so he had said, a portion of a year in that part of america, since the close of the war, and in connection with the subject, he had stated that he should have remained there had he been supplied with sufficient capital to have enabled him to begin business. this was all; and i dismissed the swindled merchant with little encouragement as to the result of a chase for a thief who had got so much the advantage, or, rather, intimated to him that though i had no doubts of being able to eventually catch him, it would be rather a poor investment for the firm to expend the amount of money which might be necessary to effect his capture, unless, in looking into the matter further, i should be able to see opportunities for securing much better knowledge as to his present whereabouts, or clues which could be made to lead to them. with this not very cheering assurance, mr. kuhn returned to cheyenne. not hearing from the firm for several days, i finally dismissed the matter entirely from mind; but on arriving at the agency one morning, i received instructions from the cheyenne firm to proceed in the matter, and with all expedition possible endeavor to cage the flown bird for them. i at once detailed william a. pinkerton, my eldest son, and at present assistant superintendent of my chicago agency, to proceed to cheyenne, and look over the ground thoroughly there, and also, if necessary, to proceed along the line of the union pacific, and, after ascertaining who were taylor's friends and companions, work up a trail through them, which would eventually bring him down. the latter course was not necessary to be followed, however, as on arriving at cheyenne, with some little information gleaned from the firm, he was able to ascertain that a young lawyer there named la grange, also originally from the south, had been a quite intimate friend of taylor's--so much so, in fact, that la grange had for the last six months regularly corresponded with the captain's sister, who had been described to him as not only an exceedingly beautiful woman, but as also a lady possessed of unusual accomplishments and amiability. my son "cultivated" la grange largely, but could secure but little information through him. he seemed to know nothing further concerning either taylor or his family, save that he had incidentally met him along the line of the union pacific; they had naturally taken a sort of liking to each other, and in that way became friends in much the same manner that most friendships were made in that country. he further recollected that he had always directed his letters to a certain post-office box, instead of to a street number; but seemed perfectly mystified concerning the action of the brother. he had just returned from a three months' absence in kentucky, and it was the first intimation he had had of the captain's crime. la grange also said that as he had been very busy, he had not written to miss lizzie (evidently referring to the sister), nor had he received any communication from her during that time. he had had a photograph of harry, taken in full-dress uniform while stationed at atlanta, which had been copied in philadelphia, but a thorough search among his papers failed to reveal it. this was all that my son could secure, as la grange, evidently suspecting that, in his surprise at taylor's crime, he might say something to compromise himself and endanger taylor or wound his beautiful sister, to whom he seemed greatly attached, positively refused to have anything further to say concerning the matter; and with what information he had, william returned to the hotel in a brown study, determined to take time to exhaust the material at cheyenne before proceeding on the proposed trip along the union pacific. after summing up and arranging the points he had got hold of, he telegraphed me fully, adding his own impression that taylor was in texas, but expressing a doubt as to whether he had better proceed along the union pacific for more information, or go on to philadelphia at once, and in some way secure information of the family as to their son's whereabouts. on the receipt of this telegram, which arrived in chicago about noon, i at once resolved upon a little strategy, being myself satisfied that taylor had proceeded, _viâ_ st. louis and new orleans into either texas or mexico, and was then engaged under his own or an assumed name, in some business agreeable to his taste, as formerly explained to mr. kuhn, and immediately telegraphed to my son: "keep la grange busied all day so he cannot write, or mail letters. study la grange's language and modes of expression. get la grange's and taylor's handwriting, signatures, and miss taylor's address, and come next train." agreeable to these instructions, he secured several letters from taylor to kuhn brothers, concerning business matters, with the last one, containing the announcement that he would be in cheyenne on the tenth of october with collections; and immediately sent by a messenger a courteous note to la grange, desiring an outline of taylor's life so far as he might feel justified in giving it, and requesting an answer, which was politely but firmly given in the negative over adolph la grange's own signature, which completed a portion of his work neatly. the balance was more difficult. he ordered a sleigh, and after settling his hotel bill, but reserving his room for the night, at once drove to la grange's office, where he in person thanked him for his courteous letter, even if he did not feel justified in giving him the information desired. a little complimentary conversation ensued during which time my son's quick eyes noticed in the lawyer's waste-basket an envelope evidently discarded on account of its soiled appearance, addressed to "miss lizzie taylor, post-office box ----, philadelphia," which on the first opportunity he appropriated. the next move was to _prevent_ la grange's mailing any letter, as it was evident he had written several, including one to taylor's sister, which were only waiting to be mailed. seeing that he had made a pleasant impression upon la grange, who appreciated the courtesy of the call under the circumstances, and informing him that he had decided to make no further inquiries there, but was to proceed west on the following morning, he prevailed upon him to take a ride in his company about the city and its environs. in leaving his office, la grange hesitated a moment as if deciding the propriety of taking the letters with him, or returning for them after the sleigh-ride; but evidently decided to do the latter, as he left them, much to my son's relief. the drive was prolonged as much as possible, and the outlying forts visited, where, having letters of introduction from myself to several army-officers stationed there, both he and his companion were so hospitably treated that the afternoon slipped away quickly, and the two returned to town evidently in high spirits. la grange felt compelled to reciprocate as far as in his power, and billiards, with frequent drinks for the lawyer and a liberal supply of water for the detective, were in order until within a half hour of the eastern bound train time, when la grange succumbed to an accumulation of good-fellowship, and on his own suggestion, as he "wash rising y'n'g 'torny y'know!" accepted the hospitalities of my son's room, at the rawlins house, where he left him sweetly sleeping at a rate which would prevent the mailing of the letters he had left locked in his office for at least two days to come; as "rising young attorneys," as a rule, sober off in a carefully graduated diminishing scale of excesses of quite similar construction to the original. on the arrival of my son in chicago, i immediately caused to be written a letter addressed to miss lizzie taylor, at her post-office box in philadelphia, of which the following is a copy: "sherman house, chicago, jan. . "miss taylor, "my dear friend:--you know of my intended absence from cheyenne in the south. during that trip, i really never had the time when i could write you so fully as i desired, and even now i am only able to send you a few words. i am _en route_ to washington on business, and have now to ask you to send the street and number of your father's house, even if it is not a magnificent one, as you have told me, to my address, at the girard house, in your city, on receipt of this, as i shall be in washington but one day, and would wish to see both you and your people without delay. i not only greatly wish to see you for _selfish reasons_, which our long and pleasant correspondence will suggest to you as both reasonable and natural, but there are other good reasons, which you all will readily understand when i tell you that i met _him_ accidentally just before my return to cheyenne, and that i have a communication of a personal nature to deliver. while not upholding him in the step he has taken, i cannot forget that i am his friend, and he your brother. "in great haste, "your true friend, "adolph la g----, "p.s.--i leave here for the east this morning. please answer on immediate receipt. a. l." this was posted on the eastern-bound train not an hour after my son's arrival from the west; and another note was written upon the back of an envelope which had passed through the mail, and had got a very much used appearance, and ran thus: "father of lizzie: "treat adolph well, you can trust him. give him one of the 'photos' taken at atlanta in my full-dress uniform; keep one other of the same for yourselves; but destroy all the rest. have been so hurried and worried that i don't remember whether i have said anything about photographs before. but this is a matter of _imperative necessity_. adolph will explain how he met me. "good-by, "h. ----" it was impossible to detect any difference between this handwriting and that of captain taylor's in his business correspondence to kuhn brothers; and, armed with this document, with the assistance of the epistolary self-introduction which had preceded it, i directed my son to leave for philadelphia that evening, secure admission to taylor's residence and the family's confidence, agreeable to the appointment made by mail, and thus not only secure the man's photograph, but other information that would be definite. on arrival at philadelphia, he secured the services of an operative from my agency in that city, to follow any member of the taylor family who might call for the letter, to their residence, in the event of an answer not being received at his hotel in due time from the one assumed to have been sent from the hotel in chicago from la grange, who found taylor's home, an unpretentious house on locust street, while my son remained at the hotel, fully expecting the coveted invitation to visit the captain's beautiful sister, which arrived at his hotel only a half day after he did, and strongly urged him to call at his convenience. he was satisfied from this that our theory regarding his being in texas, or mexico, was correct; that the family had not the slightest suspicion of his identity, and that, wherever captain taylor might be, communication with his people had been very infrequent, and that, with what he would be able to invent after being received at taylor's house, he could secure at least sufficient information to put him upon his son's trail. not desiring to play upon their feelings and friendship as another person any longer than necessary, however, he sent word by a messenger, not daring to trust his own handwriting, that he would call that evening, though necessarily at a late hour; and, accordingly, that evening, about nine o'clock, found him at the door of a pleasant locust street cottage, ringing for admission. a tall, handsome young woman greeted him at the door, and accordingly bade him enter, saying pleasantly, as she ushered him into the cozy little parlor, that she was miss lizzie taylor, and presumed he was mr. la grange, with whom she had had so long and so pleasant a correspondence; and of whom "poor harry," as she said with a shade of sadness and tenderness in her voice, had so often written, before he had made his terrible mistake, and become a wanderer. after hastily satisfying her that he was the genuine la grange, and profusely apologizing for his not having written for so long a time previous to his arrival at chicago, from cheyenne, he took up the thread she had dropped, as quickly as possible, and said that he felt sure that harry would retrieve himself soon, and return the money, as he had no bad habits, and everything would be all right again. "but yet, mr. la grange," she continued, "it makes me shudder whenever i think of all my brothers being away off there on the rio grande, among those terrible people!" "but, you must remember," he replied, encouragingly, "they are strong men, and can well defend themselves under any circumstances." "harry is strong and brave, i know," answered miss taylor, rather admiringly; "but brother robert is not fit for such a life. why, he is but a boy yet." "ah, a younger brother?" he thought, making a mental note of it, in order to assist in shaping his conversation after which he said aloud: "i almost forgot to give you this note;" and he took the piece of envelope out of his note-book, as if it had been sacredly guarded, and handed it to her. miss taylor read the hastily written lines with evident emotion; and after studying a moment, as if endeavoring to reconcile matters, while her face was being searchingly read by an experienced detective, she rose, and, apologizing to him for the absence of her father, who was in new york, on business, and of her mother, who was confined to her apartment, a confirmed invalid, she asked to be excused so as to show the note to her mother. the instant the door closed, my son had seized the album, which he had located during the preceding conversation; and rapidly turned its leaves to assure himself that he was not treading on dangerous ground. he found a half-a-dozen different styles of pictures of the captain, including three of the copies taken in philadelphia of the original atlanta picture, and felt reassured beyond measure at the lucky turn things had taken. he would have abstracted one of these, but it was impossible, and had barely time to return the album to the table, and himself to his seat, when he heard the woman's step along the hall, and in a moment more she entered the room. iii. giving the door a little impulsive slam, as she closed it, miss taylor at once came to where my son was sitting upon the sofa, and seated herself beside him. she said that her mother was anxious beyond measure to learn how and where he had met harry, how he was looking, and what he had said. the imagination and resources of the able detective are fully equal to those of the most brilliant newspaper reporters, and a pleasant and plausible fiction was invented, how he (as la grange, of course), having taken a run from louisville down to new orleans, by boat, was just landing at the levee, when he suddenly came across harry, who had hastily told him all; how great had been his transgression, how deeply he had regretted it; but that now he was situated in his business matters so that, if let alone, he would be able to return to kuhn brothers every dollar which he had taken, and have a fine business left; how it had been necessary for him to come to new orleans on imperative business, and that he should not come east of the mississippi again under any circumstances. he further said, that harry seemed hopeful; that he had stated that his younger brother robert was well and enjoying the frontier life; and that, further than that, he had no time or disposition to talk, as he was on the very eve of departure for texas, only having time to write the little note concerning the photographs. miss taylor excused herself for a moment to convey the truthful intelligence to her anxious mother; and on her return suggested that they go through the album together at once, and attend to the photographs, an invitation which was accepted with unusual readiness. every gentleman who has had the experience, and there are few who have not, know that looking over an album with a beautiful woman who has some interest in her companion, is a wonderfully pleasant diversion. in this instance it was doubly pleasant, for it meant success to my son, whose zeal is as untiring as my own when once on the trail of a criminal. "i wonder why," asked miss taylor, as if wondering as much about mr. la grange as about any other subject; "i wonder why harry desires those photographs destroyed?" he was turning the leaves for her and, as la grange, of course, had a perfect right to take plenty of time to explain the matter soothingly and sympathetically. "but do those horrid detectives track a man out and run him down, when, if he were let alone, he might recover from his misfortune, and right the wrong he has done?" mr. la grange remarked that he had heard that some of them were very much lacking in sentiment and sensibility, and would go right forward through the very fire itself to trace the whereabouts of a criminal; and all those little things helped, he could assure her. she began to see how it was, she said; but suddenly firing up, she shook her pretty fist at some imaginary person, exclaiming: "oh, i could kill the man who would thus dog my brother harry." and then, after a little april shower of tears, quite like any other woman's way of showing how very desperate they can be under certain circumstances, began slowly taking the captain's pictures from the album, commenting upon them, and then handing them to the bogus la grange to burn, who would occasionally step to the fire-place for that purpose, where he would quickly substitute miscellaneous business cards, which answered the purpose excellently. an hour or two was passed with miss taylor in conversation upon various topics which might lead the really estimable young lady to divulge all she knew about the captain, or concerning his whereabouts and business, which was certainly not much. it appeared that, immediately after the embezzlement, and while at st. louis, taylor had telegraphed to his brother robert to meet him at new orleans at a certain time, as he was going into business in that section, and should need his services, for which he would be able to pay him handsomely; the brothers had met there and had proceeded to some other point; the captain claiming that it would be injudicious to make that fact known, as he had also sent a full and complete confession to his parents of his embezzlement from kuhn brothers, which he had directed them to burn, and which he finished by requesting his family not to write to either himself or his brother for some time to come; or at least until he should indicate to them that it would be safe to do so; and under no circumstances to give any person an iota of information concerning himself or his brother. my son left miss taylor's hospitable home with a pang of regret for the deception which had seemed necessary in this case; for whatever may be the opinion of the public regarding the matter, a detective has often quite as large and compassionate a soul as men of other and apparently more high-toned professions. so long as intelligent crime is the result of a high standard of mental culture and a low standard of moral conscience--conditions which now exist and have for some years existed--intelligent minds must be trained to battle criminals with their own weapons; and these two questions, of speedy detection of crime and swift punishment of criminals will be found quite as essential to a preservation of law and society as lofty arguments or high moral dissertations on the right or wrong of the expediencies necessary to bring wrong-doers to immediate and certain justice. as soon as i had received a full telegraphic report of the success of the philadelphia experiment, i directed him to proceed to louisville, where he would be met by operative keating, from chicago, who would bring letters of introduction from myself to colonel wood, commanding the first infantry at new orleans; captain white, chief of the detective force of that city; general canby, commanding the department of texas, at austin; col. hunt, chief quartermaster of the department of texas, and other army officers, requesting them to render my son and his assistant any aid in their power should the necessity for such assistance arise; the requisition from governor foulke, of dakotah territory, for henry g. taylor, upon governor pease, of texas, and general instructions concerning his conduct of the search for the handsome captain after he had got beyond mail and telegraphic communication. i was sending him into a country which was at that time in many portions utterly unsafe for the securing of a criminal should the pursuer's mission become known, so as to allow the person desired time to apprise his friends of his danger, or give him even an opportunity to rally any number of acquaintances for defense; for the reason that, as texas had become a sort of refuge for ruffians, they became clannish through the general peril of being pursued each experienced; and would, as a rule, on the slightest provocation, assist in the rescue of any person under arrest, not knowing how soon it might be their turn to cry for help; but i have invariably sent my sons into danger with the same expectation that they would do their duty regardless of consequences, as i have had when sending other men's sons into danger. happily i have never mistaken their metal; and, in this instance, felt sure that i could rely upon him to exercise both discretion and intrepidity in exigencies to which his long experience and careful training have at all times made him equal. the two detectives met in louisville, and at once proceeded to new orleans, where they arrived early in the morning of the th of january, , and were driven to the st. charles hotel. no time was lost; and while my son presented his letters to different parties, and made cautious inquiries regarding the recent appearance in new orleans of taylor, keating, in the character of a provincial merchant, investigated as far as possible the business houses dealing in stock, leather, or wool, as to whether any such person had made arrangement for consignments from the interior or seaport texan cities. no trace of their man was found, however, until my son was able to get at the register of the st. charles hotel for the preceding three months, which was attended with some difficulty, on account of the crowded condition of things at that house; and any detective, or other expert, will understand how much time and patience are required to discover one signature from among ten thousand, when that one may be an assumed name, and perhaps five hundred of the ten thousand be so similar to the one sought, that a disinterested person could scarcely be convinced it was really not the person's handwriting desired; but after a good deal of trouble and searching, the names of "h. g. taylor & clerk," were discovered on the last half line at the bottom of a page under date of november th, , which, by constant wear and thumbing in turning pages, had been nearly defaced, but which, in his handwriting, beyond a doubt told the story of their presence. further inquiry of the clerk on duty at that time, and with his memory refreshed by a glance at taylor's photographs, developed the facts that he had certainly been at the st. charles on the date shown by the register, and that he was accompanied by a young man about nineteen years of age, who was recognized as taylor's clerk. the peculiar register then kept at the st. charles hotel in new orleans was also instrumental in assisting the detectives. it gave the guest's name, residence, hour of arrival, and hour of departure, with name of conveyance at arrival and departure, in the following manner: _h. g. taylor and clerk, | mobile, | m. | ped. dec. | a. m. | 'bus._ this told anybody curious about the matter that h. g. taylor and clerk, assuming to reside in mobile, arrived at the st. charles hotel, new orleans, at noon on saturday, the thirtieth day of november, , either afoot or by some mode of conveyance unknown to the clerk of the house, and that they left the house in an omnibus at seven o'clock on the morning of the third day following. naturally the next inquiries were directed to ascertaining to what boat or railroad lines omnibuses could be ordered at that hour of the morning; if to different ones, then to discover who had driven the particular omnibus which conveyed taylor and his brother from the hotel; and then make an effort to learn to what point they had been conveyed. this, however, proved less difficult than had been feared; for it was found that on the morning in question the omnibus had gone from the hotel to but one point, and that was to the ferry connecting with berwick bay route, by the new orleans and opelousas railroad and the gulf, to galveston, although a large number of passengers had been booked, and it was impossible to ascertain whether taylor and his brother had actually gone that route or not, though everything was in favor of that presumption. the death of general rosseau had caused quite a commotion in new orleans, and it seemed a pretty hard matter to get anything further of a definite character in that place; and i therefore instructed my son and detective keating to proceed slowly to galveston, stopping at brashear city, where taylor might have diverged,--supposing he had taken that route with the other passengers from new orleans,--and to particularly search passenger lists aboard any lines of boats, and all hotel registers, before arriving at galveston, so as to have the work done thoroughly nearest the base of operation; as i knew that for any party to get on the wrong scent in that vast state, thinly settled as it was, with no means of quickly conveying needful intelligence, was to enter upon both a needless waste of money for my patrons, and an objectless and wearying struggle against insurmountable obstacles for my detectives, whom, whatever may be said to the contrary, i have never in a single instance needlessly or injudiciously exposed to privation or danger. in brashear conductors of trains were applied to; the hotel and omnibus men were questioned, the postmaster was appealed to, and even the passenger-lists of the boats which had been in port, and to which they were able to gain access for a period of three months, had been searched in vain. every trace of the man seemed lost; and i was appealed to for a decision as to whether they should proceed to galveston by boat, with the presumption that taylor had taken passage under an assumed name, or take a few days' trip up along the line of the new orleans and opelousas railroad and seek for information of their man at different points through central louisiana. i decided on the former course, and they accordingly embarked from brashear immediately after the receipt of my telegram of instructions, on the handsome steamer "josephine," the only boat whose books they had had no opportunity of examining; and, having received my telegram but a few minutes before the steamer left, were obliged to do some lively running to reach it; for, in anticipation of a message from me to take that route, my son had directed keating to settle the hotel bill, and with both valises in hand wait at a convenient corner, where, should william receive a dispatch from me of the character expected, within a certain time, they might yet make the boat. everything transpiring as my son had hoped, they were just in time, after a lively run, to be hauled up the gang-plank by two stalwart negroes, and were soon steaming down the bay and thence out to sea. iv. as the two ascended to the cabin they were congratulated by the officers of the boat and many of the passengers on their graceful and expeditious boarding of the steamer; and being something of objects of interest on account of the little incident, they concluded not to lose the opportunity to blend the good feeling evoked into a thoroughly pleasant impression, and consequently took the shortest way to accomplish that desired end by at once walking up to the bar where the assembled gentlemen, to a man, apparently in compliance to general custom, seemed to understand that they had been invited before a word had been uttered by either of the detectives, so that when my son asked, "gentlemen, won't you join us?" it was an entirely superfluous request; for on either side, behind, and extending a solid phalanx beyond, the "gentlemen" had already joined and were describing the particular liquor that in their minds would do honor to the occasion in the most lively and familiar manner possible, and interspersing their demands upon the leisurely bar-keeper with such remarks as "gen'lemen had narrow 'scape;" "gen'lemen made a right smart run of it;" "gen'lemen not down from norlens (new orleans), reckon come down opelousas route," and other similar comments; but invariably prefacing each and every remark with the stereotyped word "gen'lemen," which men were, without exception, assumed to be in that country at that time, at least in conversation; as any neglect to preface a remark with the word laid one liable to become immediately engaged in a discussion regarding the propriety of the use of the term, behind navy revolvers, rifles, double-barreled shot-guns, or any other available pointed or forcible means of argument. after the thirst of the crowd, which upon a gulf-coasting steamer is something terrible to contemplate, had been in a measure assuaged, my son excused himself, and with keating repaired to the office, remarking to the clerk: "i presume you would like to transact a little business with us now?" "any time to suit your convenience," returned the clerk, but getting at his books with an alacrity which showed that he would be a little more willing to attend to the matter of fares then than at any other time. william handed him an amount of money large enough to pay for both the fares of himself and keating from brashear to galveston; and, while the clerk was making change, said, by way of getting into conversation with him, "i'm afraid we're on a fool's errand out here." the clerk counted out the change, inked his pen to take the names, and then elevating his eyebrows, although not speaking a word, plainly asked, "ah, how's that?" "well, you see," replied the detective, "we're hunting a man that's had right good luck." "he can't be in these parts," replied the clerk, with a slightly satirical smile. "names?" he then asked. "james a. hicks and patrick mallory." "where from?" "pittsburg." "which is which?" asked the clerk, in a business tone of voice. "i am hicks, and that pretty smart-looking irishman by the baggage-room is mallory," was the reply. "your age and weight?" asked the clerk mechanically, at the same time looking at my son keenly, and getting the rest of his description at a glance. these questions were properly answered, and as the clerk was noting them he asked, "might i ask what was the gentleman's good luck?" "certainly; he has fallen heir to a coal mine in pennsylvania, and we are endeavoring to hunt him up for the executors of the estate." "ah?" said the clerk, driving away with his pen; "will you be so good as to ask mr. mallory to step this way?" my son stepped up to keating and remarked aloud, "mr. mallory, mr. mallory, the clerk would like to see you;" and then as keating stepped to his side, remarked as if for his better information, "he knows your name is patrick mallory and that we are from pittsburg, hunting taylor, so he can come home and enjoy the property the old man left him; but he wants your entire description." "quite so," said the quick-witted irishman, dryly. "you've got me, now," said keating, winking familiarly at the clerk, "when we came over we went under; and so many of us was lost that those saved wasn't worth mendin' as to age, ye see; but concerning heft, why i'd not fear to say i'd turn an honest scale at a hundred an' sixty." the clerk smiled, but concluded not to ask mr. mallory from pittsburg any more questions. as soon as he had made his notes, however, william told him that he had examined the lists of all other boats plying between brashear and galveston save those of the "josephine," and requested him to look through them, concluding by describing taylor, and stating that he might register either as h. g. taylor and clerk, or under an assumed name, as he was somewhat erratic, and through family troubles, not necessary to explain, he had got into a habit of occasionally traveling _incognito_. the clerk readily complied with his request, scanning the pages closely, and repeating the name musingly as if endeavoring to recall where he had heard it. by the time he had got on with the examination of a few pages, william had selected a photograph of taylor, and on showing it to the clerk the latter seemed to have a certain recollection of having seen him, but a very uncertain recollection as to where, or under what circumstances. he went on repeating the name, however, turning back the pages with his right hand and tracing the names back and forth with the index finger of his left hand, occasionally looking at the photograph as if to assist in forcing a definite recollection, but without any result for so long a time that messrs. hill and mallory of pittsburg became satisfied that their last hope before arriving at galveston was gone, when suddenly the clerk carelessly placed the picture beside a certain name and in a manner very similar to a dry-goods clerk on securing a successful "match," in two pieces of cloth, quietly remarked: "yes, can't be mistaken. there you are; i've got him." "then _we've_ got him!" exclaimed my son, in the excess of his gratification, shaking the hand of mr. mallory, from pittsburg. "it's a joy," said the latter, beaming. "think of the immense property!" continued my son. "and the surprise to his friends!" murmured keating. "the surprise to himself, i should say," interrupted the clerk. "quite so," said mr. keating. it appeared that taylor and his brother had missed one or two boats at brashear from some cause, but had finally taken passage on the "josephine," november th; and as the detectives had not been able to ascertain whether the "josephine" had carried the fugitives or not, on account of her being belated by adverse weather, and was now returning to galveston, after having had barely time to touch at brashear, they had felt that perhaps they might be upon the wrong trail, which, with unknown adventures before them, had been peculiarly discouraging; so that now, when they ascertained that his apprehension was only a question of time and careful work, they could not repress their gratification. nothing further worthy of note transpired on the voyage from brashear to galveston, save that the trip was a pretty rough one, and they finally arrived in the latter city, hopeful and encouraged, notwithstanding the unusually dismal weather, which seemed to consist of one disconnected but never-ending storm, the "oldest inhabitants" of the place contending with great earnestness that "it 'peared like's they'd never had nothin' like it befoah!" arriving in galveston early sunday morning, they went to the exchange hotel, and after breakfast set about examining the hotel registers of the place, ascertaining that taylor and brother had been in the city, stopped a day or two, and then, so far as could be learned, had gone on to houston. they were satisfied he had made no special efforts to cover his tracks, although he had not made himself at all conspicuous, as the difficulty encountered in getting those who would be most likely to recollect him, to recollect him at all, clearly showed; and it was quite evident that he had not anticipated pursuit, at least of any nature which he could not easily compromise, and intended going into some legitimate business under his own name, and with his brother's assistance. before he could be arrested in texas, however, it would be necessary to secure governor pease's warrant, which obliged a long, tedious trip to austin, the capital of the state; nearly the whole distance having to be done by stage, which at that time seemed a forbidding piece of work, as it had rained every day of the year, so far; and it might be a question of helping the stage through rather than being helped through by it. besides this, according to my son's reports, which gave a true description of things in texas at that time, everything beyond houston had to be paid for in gold, as sectional sentiment and counterfeiting had pronounced a ban upon greenbacks, and not only in gold, but at exorbitant prices; hotel rates being five dollars per day; single meals from one to two dollars; railroad fares eight cents per mile, and stage rates nearly double that amount; with no assurance that you would ever reach a destination you had paid to be conveyed to; all attended by various kinds of danger, among which was the pleasant reflection that you might be called upon at any time to contribute to the benefit of that noble relic of chivalry, the ku klux klan, who at that day were particularly busy in texas. all of these pleasant considerations made the departure from galveston for austin, in a pickwickian sense, unusually agreeable. at houston they discovered from different persons, including the postmaster, that taylor had been there, but had made inquiries about points further up country; and the general impression was that he had gone on, though at brenham, the terminus of the railroad, where they arrived monday evening, they could find no trace of him. the next morning, when my son arose and looked on the vast sea of mud,--a filthy, black earth below; a dirty, black sky above; with nothing but driving rain and wintry gusts between; while the lackadaisical texans slouched about with their hands in their pockets, with only energy enough to procure tobacco or "licker;" their sallow faces, down-at-the-heels, snuff-dipping wives desolately appearing at the doors and windows, only to retire again with a woe-begone expression of suspended animation in their leathery faces,--he fully realized the force of the remark attributed to general sheridan, and more expressive than polite: "if i owned texas and hell, i would live in hell and sell texas!" the stage was crowded, however, and the dreary conveyance splashed and crunched on until noon, when dinner was taken at wilson's ranche, a long, low, rambling, tumbledown structure, which, like its owner, who had at one time been a "general" of something, and now retained the thriving title out of compliment to his departed glory, had gone to a genteel decay with a lazy ease worthy of its master's copy. the dinner was one long to be remembered by the detectives, as it was their first genuine texan dinner, and consisted merely of fat boiled pork, and hot bread of the consistence of putty cakes of the same dimensions, which, when broken open after a mighty effort, disclosed various articles of household furniture, such as clay pipes, old knife handles, and various other invoices, probably playfully dumped into the flour barrel by some one of the half-score of tow-headed, half-clad children, which the "general" and his buxom helpmeet had seen fit to provide for torturing another generation with rare texan dinners at a dollar a plate. it was an all-day's labor getting to la grange, but thirty-five miles from brenham, where they arrived at ten o'clock, tired and exhausted from the day's banging about in the stage and out of it, for they were obliged to walk many times in order to rest the jaded horses so that they could get through to la grange at all; but before retiring made all the inquiries necessary to develop the fact that their man had not been at that point. the next day, wednesday, was rather more trying than the previous one. two miles out of town the stage got "bogged," and the entire load of passengers were obliged to get out and walk through three miles of swamps, the stage finally sticking fast, necessitating prying it out with rails. after this slough of despond was passed, the colorado river had to be forded three times, and then came a "dry run," which now, with every other ravine or depression, had became a "wet run," and was "a booming" as the drunken driver termed it between oaths. there was at least four feet of water in the dry run, and the horses balking, the buckskin argument was applied to them so forcibly that they gave a sudden start, and broke the pole off short, which further complicated matters. my son, being on the box, sprang to the assistance of the driver, and stepping down upon the stub of the pole, quickly unhitched the wheel horses, so that the stage could not be overturned, and then disengaged the head team, finally appropriating a heavy wheel horse, with which he rode back to keating, who was perched upon a rear wheel to keep out of the water, which was rushing and seething below, sweeping through the bottom of the stage, and at every moment seeming to have lifted the vehicle preparatory to sweeping it away like feathers, and also holding on to the baggage, which he had got safely upon the roof of the stage; and, taking him aboard his improvised ferry, after securing the valises, rode to the muddy shore, forming with his companions about as fine a picture of despairing "carpet-baggers" as the south has ever on any occasion been able to produce. the bedraggled passengers ascertained that the next town, webberville, was several miles distant, and that there was no house nearer, save on the other side of the rapidly rising stream; and as night had come on, the best thing that could be done was to penetrate the woods, build a rousing fire, and shiver and shiver through as long, wet and weary a night as was ever experienced. there was never a more longed-for morning than the next one, and the moment that the sickly light came feebly through the mist and rain, and straggled into the dense cottonwood trees, where the discouraged passengers had a sort of fervent out-doors prayer-meeting, they started forward for webberville, hungry, drenched, and so benumbed as to be scarcely able to walk. it was five miles into town, but one mile of that distance stretched over a quagmire known and described in that section as "hell's half-acre;" and the truthful inhabitants of webberville related of this delectable ground that during the rainy season its powers of absorption were so great that it would even retain the gigantic texan mosquito, should it happen to take a seat there. this bog was impassable to the travelers, who finally bartered with the owner of a hog wagon to be carried over the marsh for a silver half dollar each. this was far better than remaining on the other side, and they finally trudged into the town more dead than alive. fortunately for the detectives, the brother of ex-governor lubbock, of texas, was one of the party, and as they had all become so thoroughly acquainted, as common misery will quickly make travelers, he took my son and keating to the residence of colonel banks, a merchant of webberville, whose good wife never rested until she had provided the party with a splendid meal, something with which to wash it down, and beds which seemed to them all to have been composed of down. after they had a good rest, the passengers for austin were got together, and explained the situation of things. the creek the other side of webberville was a mighty river. the driver thought he could possibly get the stage across, but was certain he could not do so with any passengers or baggage to make it drag more heavily; but he thought that if once on the other side, they might get to austin the same day. william was anxious to push ahead, and looking about town discovered a rather venturesome negro who owned a monstrous mule, and at once entered into negotiations with him for the transfer of the party and baggage, sink or swim. so when the stage arrived at the creek, the baggage was unloaded, and the stage successfully forded the stream. but as the water covered so broad an expanse, was so deep and rapid, and altogether presented such a forbidding appearance, the passengers refused to try the mule experiment unless william, who had proposed the mode of transfer, and had secured the novel ferry, which stood with the grinning negro upon its back ready for passengers, would first cross the rubicon to demonstrate the convenience and safety of the passage. so, handing the captain one of the valises, he mounted the mule, which after a few whirls, a little "bucking," several suspicious sidewise movements, and a shouted "ya-a-oop, da, dani-el!--done quit dis heyah foolishness!" plunged into the current without further ceremony. the passengers saw that dani-el and his master were up to a thing or two in that section of the country; and after seeing keating cross the stream in safety also, they one by one ventured upon the transfer, which was finished without accident, but with a good deal of merriment; and the colored clown paid even beyond his contract price, the stage was enabled to go lumbering on to austin, where it arrived at a late hour of the same day. v. rain, drizzle and mist; mist, drizzle and rain. it seemed all that the country was capable of producing; and the same preface to the befogged condition of the english chancery courts used by dickens, in his introduction to "bleak house," with a few of the localisms expunged, would have fitly applied to the condition of things in texas, which afterward culminated in a flood which swept everything before it. in austin--though the seat of the state government and the headquarters of the military department of texas, full of legislators, lobbyists, officers and soldiers, everything had the appearance of having been through a washing that had lasted an age, and had been prematurely wrung out to dry, but had been caught on the lines by an eternal rain day. involuntarily, with the spatters and dashes of rain and the morning wind, longfellow's "rainy day" came drifting into the mind, and the lines: "the day is cold and dark and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary; the vine still clings to the mouldering wall, while at very gust the dead leaves fall. and the day is dark and dreary!" were never more appropriate than when applied to any portion of texas during the months of january and february, . the very first man my son met in the office of the hotel, the next morning, was a member of the legislature from besar county, who, hearing his inquiries of the clerk concerning taylor, informed him that he had been introduced to him in san antonio a few weeks previous; that he was in company with a much younger man whom he represented as his brother, and that he had ostensibly come to san antonio to make some inquiries concerning the hide and wool trade; but whether with an idea of settling at that point, or whether he could yet be found in san antonio, he was unable to state. in any event this was cheering news; for it assured my detectives that their long and weary search would not prove unavailing; and william directed keating to make himself useful about the different hotels and hide and stock dealers,--as it is a detective's business to work all the time, and the slightest cessation of vigilance after the beginning of an operation might at the most unexpected moment cause the beginning of a series of circumstances eventually permitting a criminal's escape,--while he himself sought out general potter, who escorted him to general canby's headquarters, where he was most cordially received, and not only given an order for military aid, should it be required, but general canby himself went with him to the capitol and introduced him to governor pease, vouching for the reliability of any statement made in connection with the business which had brought him so far from home; as, while i had charge of the secret service of the government, during the war, with myself and sons had had an intimate acquaintance with, and personal friendship for him. governor pease frankly stated to william that the affidavits were rather weak, and that should some of the "shysters" of that state, who did a thriving business in _habeas corpus_ releases, get an inkling of his business and the nature of the papers, they might give him a deal of trouble, even if they did not get his man away from him eventually. he said he would make the requisition as strong as possible, however, and expressed his hope that the reputation for ingenuity in devising and executing expedients possessed by pinkerton's men would be more than sustained in this instance; and general canby terminated the interview by giving the document approval over his own signature. my son thanked them both for their kindness, and withdrew, only too anxious to get to where his man was before any information that he was being sought for should reach him, and either scare him beyond the rio grande, or enable him to act on the defensive, as only a man can act who has plenty of money, plenty of friends, and, as we already knew, a great plenty of bravery on his own account. soon after he had returned to the hotel, keating came in with undoubted information that taylor had a permanent residence at or near corpus christi; that either he or his brother owned a sheep ranche near the coast, not far from that city, while the other dealt in hides and wool there; and that one or the other penetrated into the interior as far as san antonio, soliciting consignments. my son at once concluded that it was the captain who had done the dealing, as well as stealing, and whose money and business ability had been brought to bear upon the trading at corpus christi, and upon the ranche in the country near it; the brother, though probably entirely innocent of complicity in the robbery, or even a knowledge of the source from whence the money had come, only being used for a convenient repository for his ill-gotten funds in case of kuhn brothers following him before he was ready to meet them. he therefore decided to get through to corpus christi in the very shortest time in which the trip could be made _viâ_ new braunfels, san antonio, victoria, and port lavaca, hoping that he might be able to pick him up along some portion of that route, as it was quite evident he made frequent trips in that direction; and, at whatever point he might be started, should he seem to be going much farther into the interior,--which would be improbable, as san antonio at that time was quite a frontier city,--arrest him at once, and hurry him back to galveston along the route he was already familiar with; but, should he be going toward the coast, to let him take his own course, keeping him well in hand until he had reached corpus christi or some other seaport city, and, waiting a favorable opportunity, arrest him and get him aboard a boat before he could recover from the surprise. not a half hour before they left austin, he fortunately met judge davis of corpus christi, who was there attending some political convention, and who gave him a letter to his law partner at home, should his services in any way be needed, as i had been of some service to him on a previous occasion; so that when my two detectives left austin on the seventeenth of january, they felt perfectly satisfied of ultimate success, though the same terrible experiences as to staging were again encountered. it required the entire day to traverse the few miles between austin and blanco creek, where they secured a sort of a supper; the onion creek and its branches having been waded and forded numberless times. at manchell springs, the stage pole being again broken, they were only able to proceed after improvising a tongue out of a sapling, chopped from the roadside with a very dull hatchet. at blanco springs a good rest was taken, and the driver, having the day's experience in his mind, objected to going further that night; but the detectives insisted that they had paid their money to be taken to a certain destination, and, as they had shown a disposition to more than earn their passage besides, no excuse for their detention should be offered. after a good deal of grumbling, fresh horses were got out, a new pole put in the stage, and the procession again took up its weary march over the then most horrible of roads, crossing the innumerable brooks and runs which now pushed torrents into york's creek. all night long they slushed and splashed, and tramped and cursed; though the rain had ceased for a time, there was but little light from the sky, which seemed full of black heavy clouds ready to burst asunder, to again drench them and swell the torrents afresh. my son, keating, and a man sent along from blanco creek, "took turns," trudging along ahead of the lead-team, and, with lanterns, picked out the way. often they would be misled where the ground was so bad as to almost defy a passage over it, when the patient animals behind them, steaming from the toil of straining along with nothing but an empty coach, would stop, as if guided by a keener instinct, where they would quietly remain until the united search of the three men had discovered the road, when the intelligent creatures docilely plodded along again. and so, through seemingly bottomless quagmires; over corduroys, where the shaky ends of timbers, struck by a horse's hoof, would mercilessly splash those walking beside the useless vehicle, or, suddenly relieved from the weight of the ponderous wheel, would fly upwards to heave gallons of slime upon the coach; laboring around the bases of far-extending mounds of sandy loam; descending into unexpected and sometimes dangerous depressions, along creeks, and plunging into streams, where drift and changing, sandy bottoms always made it a question whether the coach could ever be got across; they marched only as sherman taught soldiers to march, or as honest detectives will crowd all obstacles between themselves and their duty, and came with the gray of the morning to the beautiful, forest-shaded guadaloupe. fording this river without nearly the trouble presented at some of the petty runs and creeks which had been passed, they came to new braunfels with the sun, which had shown itself for the first time since their arrival in texas, and which also shone upon the first city which had shown any of that wide-awake "go-aheaditiveness" and thrift so common to nearly all northern cities. the reason that new braunfels differed so materially from the ordinary texan towns lay in the fact that it was almost exclusively settled by germans; and it was a welcome sight to the detectives to be able to enter a place where, from suburb to center, up and down long, finely-shaded avenues, it was plain to be seen that the most had been made of everything. from the pleasantest cottage of the extreme suburb, and past the more pretentious residences,--every home being provided with an exterior bake-oven, the same as in germany, pennsylvania, or portions of wisconsin and minnesota, to the shops, stores, hotels and public buildings, every yard, in many instances, fenced with stone gleaned and cleaned from the soil, and, for that matter, every spot upon which the eye rested showed that thrift and not whisky-drinking ruled that place; and that fact alone entitles the little german city to respectable elevation from the obscurity which has heretofore surrounded it. as nothing at this point could be learned regarding taylor, though leaving the town and its extraordinary attractions with some reluctance, they immediately proceeded to san antonio, the roads to which place were quite passable, and arrived at that city friday afternoon. i had telegraphed to colonel lee, of san antonio, to hold himself in readiness to assist my son and keating, on the score of personal friendship, whenever they might arrive there, not knowing, from the terrible condition of the roads, at what time it would be possible for them to reach that point, and he, being ignorant from what direction they might come, where they might stay, or under what name they might register, had caused an advertisement to be inserted in the san antonio _herald_, of which the following is a copy: personal.--whenever the son of a. p., of chicago, may arrive in san antonio, he will learn of something to his advantage by calling upon lieut.-col. lee, at the mengler house. keating's sharp eyes first saw the item at the supper table of the mengler house, where they were stopping, and they both learned, by listening to the conversation about them, that the colonel was sitting at the same table. after supper william made himself known to colonel lee without attracting attention, the latter kindly offering him any help needed, after which inquiries of a guarded character were instituted for the object of their search. the landlord of the mengler house stated that taylor had called upon him about three weeks before to inquire for letters; but as he was stopping elsewhere but little attention had been paid to him or his questions; all of which william had reason to believe absolutely true, on account of the strong corroborative testimony which would lie in the statement of any landlord that no civility was shown to a man who quartered at any hostelry save his own. the next morning he called upon chief of police, h. d. bonnet, who extended every imaginable courtesy, went with him to the offices of the different stage-lines, and assisted in examining their lists for some time previous with a view to ascertaining what direction taylor had taken when he left san antonio; introduced him to the mayor and chief marshal, and even went with him on an extended tour through the old mexican quarter of the town; but no other information was secured save through the german landlady of a hotel, who was as positive as her limited knowledge of the english language would allow her to be, that taylor had stopped at her house without registering at all, and had gone directly from san antonio to port lavaca or corpus christi on horseback, which, after all, in the exceptional condition of the weather that year in texas, seemed quite probable. it was evident nothing was to be gained by remaining any longer at san antonio, and was quite as plain that all possible expedition should be used in getting on to the coast. as if the fates were ordained perverse, the moment the two left san antonio a steady drenching rain again began to fall, and as the stage was crowded, the discomfort of those within could not very well be increased. about twelve miles from san antonio the driver succeeded in tipping over the stage, and giving the occupants "an elegant mud varnish all over," as operative keating aptly expressed it. the driver remarked that he was "going up the new road," but some of the more profane passengers swore that, if so, he was hunting it three feet under the old one. on arriving at lavernia station the dismal announcement was made by the lean, long stage agent, who seemed to have never done anything from time immemorial save sit in the door of his tumbledown hovel to make dismal announcement that "the cibolo (pronounced there 'c'uillou') is just a scootin' and a rippin' up its banks like a mad buffler bull! ye'll all be back to stay at my tavern all night." it was the contemplation of this man's pure cussedness, as he sat there doting on the big bills he would charge when the cibolo should drive back a stage load of hungry travelers, that nerved them to push on at all hazards and attempt a crossing at some point where the cibolo "scooted and ripped up its banks" with less ardor than across the regular route to victoria; but on reaching southerland springs, seven miles distant, it was found that it would be necessary to wait until thursday morning, when they might possibly make a passage, as the stream was running down to within something like ordinary bounds very fast. thursday afternoon came before an attempt to ford the stream was made, when the driver agreed to land the passengers in the middle of the stream on an immense fallen tree, from which point they could reach the other side, when they might be able to get the empty stage across also. the trial was made, and was successful so far as landing the passengers was concerned, but while this was being done the wheels of the coach sank deeper and deeper into the mucky bed of the stream, and though but a few minutes had elapsed, the strange action of the water had caused deposits to form about the coach so rapidly that it became firmly imbedded, and could not be moved by the four horses attached. at this juncture an old farmer came along, who carried the evidences of some of his propensities strongly marked in his face, which was a thin one, like his conscience, but with bright tips on his cheek bones and as red a nose as ever the devil-artist in alcohol tipped with crimson. no importunities or amount of money could prevail on him to assist the discouraged travelers with his fine mule train; but a pint of good whiskey, to be delivered the moment the stage had been drawn from its peril, with a small drink by way of retainer, accomplished what would not have been done in any other manner, and set the travelers joyfully on their way again. they journeyed on at a snail's pace until one o'clock friday morning, when they arrived at kelly's ranche, kept by bill kelly, uncle of the "taylor boys," notorious for their connection with the ku klux and various other gangs of villainous desperadoes. the family were unceremoniously awakened, and at once good-humoredly proceeded to provide the ravenous passengers with something to eat; after which they made a "shake-down" on the floor, into which substitute for a bed everybody turned, and slept late into the morning, awakening stiff in every joint and scarcely able for that day's journey, which, with its complement of accidents and delays, took them safely over esteto creek and into yorktown early in the evening, where the detectives secured certain information that taylor had been in corpus christi the week previous, and was undoubtedly there at that time, as texas by this time had become a net-work of resistless streams, almost impassible quagmires and far-reaching lagoons. vi. late the next morning they left yorktown, having taken on a passenger of no less importance than ex-confederate governor owens, of arizona. he was a pleasant, voluble old fellow, and my son at once fell in with his ways, and treated him so courteously that it perhaps averted a greater disaster than had at any previous time occurred. governor owens was largely engaged in the rio grande trade of supplying frontier points with provisions and merchandise, and was just on his way to indianola, on the coast, where he was to meet his mexican freighters, comprising thirty wagons and carts, of all characters and descriptions, driven by the inevitable lazy greaser. even as late as the same period, - , a vast amount of freighting was done between st. paul, minnesota, and fort garry, manitoba, in the famed red river carts, driven by the inevitable, lazy half-breed. william, knowing the position held by governor owens during a portion of the war, and realizing that an ex-office-holder will never lose his tenderness for the political regime which made him titled, assumed to be a mississippian, from vicksburg, with an irish acquaintance, on a trip of inspection through texas, and, so far, terribly disappointed with the state. during those periods when, owing to the depth of the mud, the passengers were obliged to walk, they would fall behind or walk ahead of the stage, when they would chat pleasantly upon general subjects. on one of these occasions governor owens eyed his companion sharply a moment, and then asked: "can i trust you, sir?" "certainly." "on the word and honor of a gentleman?" "yes, and an honest man, too," william answered. "i believe you; thank you. you know stages are robbed out this way?" "i do." "did you ever see it done?" "no; nor have i any desire to be around on such an occasion," he replied, laughing. "i reckon you hadn't better, either," said the governor earnestly. "it wouldn't make so much difference if they would do the work a trifle genteelly, in a gentlemanly way; but the fact is, we have low fellows along our texas stage-lines. they have no regard for a man's family. why," he continued, warmly, "they'll just pop out from behind the trees, or up through some clumps of bushes, ram a double barreled shot-gun, loaded to the muzzle with slugs and things, into the coach from both sides at once, and just blaze away--all that are not killed outright are scared to death. there's nothing fair about it!" william expressed his curiosity to know if the drivers were ever killed. "drivers? never, sir, never. why, those ruffians are too smart for that. let it be known that they have begun killing drivers, and there isn't a stage company in texas that could send a coach past the first timber. they couldn't afford to kill stage-drivers, for the moment they began it, that would be the end of staging." my son expressed his thanks at learning so much of the business principles of these land pirates, and the old gentleman continued: "you see, it takes a peculiar kind of a driver for a texas coach. you want one, first, that can drink right smart of whiskey, for the water isn't good along some of these branches. you want one that can swear a hoss's head square off, too. he's got to be a coward, or he would help put this robbing down; and yet, he has got to be rather brave to drive right along up to a spot where he knows he is to see his passengers butchered! and that," continued the governor, earnestly, "is just what i want to talk to you about, as i feel sure that i can trust you." the governor then explained to him that a certain member of the ku klux, whom he was sorry to say was too intimate with those roadside plunderers, had informed him that morning, just as he was leaving yorktown, that preparations had been made to rob their stage at a point between clinton and mission valley; and that he very much desired some organization among the passengers for defense, as he himself had upwards of thirty thousand dollars, to be paid out at indianola, for goods, and to his freighters for wages. on the receipt of this alarming intelligence, my son took the responsibility of informing the rest of the passengers what might possibly be expected; and, as governor owens had six fine carbines, which he was also taking down to indianola for the protection of his freighters on the rio grand, preparatory to any attack that might be made. about six miles from mission valley the stage route traversed a low piece of bottom-lands covered with timber, and a considerable growth of underbrush. a corduroy road had been built through the place, and as the coach was obliged to be driven slowly across it, the locality offered particularly fine inducements for a robbery of the character described by the governor; so that the precaution was taken of walking along with the coach, three on either side, with carbines ready for instant use. just before entering the timber, two men were seen prowling about, and, evidently fearing their actions might cause suspicion and frustrate the plan they had in view, made a great effort to appear to be two respectable hunters in search of only wild game; and, before leaving the timber at the other side, two more persons were seen, who, evidently, not having been given any signal, had come as near to the stage as they dared, to ascertain for themselves why their comrades had failed in their calculations; but skulked away after seeing the force which grimly trudged along, guarding the empty vehicle, into which the passengers were glad enough to climb when the danger was gone by, and be carried with sound bodies and whole pockets to the supper which had been some time in waiting when they reached mission valley. dinner the next day was taken at victoria, from which city william and keating expected to be able to go by railroad to port lavaca, only twenty-eight miles distant. they were doomed to disappointment in this, as the railroad had been abandoned since the war, either the union or confederate soldiers having taken it up bodily and turned it upside down, like a gigantic furrow, from victoria to the sea. after many years somebody had come along and turned it back; but to this day the steam-engine has never thundered over it again; the most that has ever been done having been to drag an occasional freight car over the road by the not peculiarly thrilling application of mule power; and so it was said a hand-car, worked by a gang of negroes, was used for transporting passengers, the trips being made back and forth whenever a load could be got, and not before. as they were obliged to remain for this new mode of conveyance, their time was entirely unoccupied, and they could not but have leisure to make something of a study of texan life, as it then existed; and on sunday afternoon were witnesses to one of those little episodes which sometimes make extremely lively certain periods that would otherwise remain humdrum and ordinary. the bar-room of the hotel had been crowded all day, and a good deal of liquor had been drunk, while there had also been a large amount of money lost and won over cards, so that there was that feverish, explosive condition of things which always follows large winnings or losses at games of chance, although there had as yet been no disturbance of a serious character. at one of the little gaming tables, john foster, county clerk of victoria county, and another person, named lew phillips, who had been one of the andersonville prison-keepers during the war, but had drifted out to victoria and had secured charge of a large livery-stable there, were engaged at a game of poker, when foster was heard to quietly say: "see here, lew phillips, you stole that card!" "you're a liar!" was retorted, with an oath. the two men were up over the card-table in a twinkling, looking at each other, and both very white. "apologize!" demanded foster, still quiet, but with a terrible earnestness in his voice. "i don't do that sort of business, you white-livered coward!" shouted phillips. without another look or word, the two parted, one passing out one door and the other out of another, while the crowd in the hotel canvassed the matter as coolly as though there had been no difficulty worth mentioning, while a few quietly laid wagers on who would get the first shot. in about fifteen minutes more, foster was seen returning with a double-barreled shot-gun, and phillips, who had a wooden leg, came stumping up another street, with an immense navy revolver in his hand. it was noticeable that the space between the advancing men was made very clear, so that nothing should interfere with their sociability. in a moment more, phillips had fired at foster, and evidently hit him; for, as he was bringing his gun to his shoulder, his aim had been badly disturbed, and before he had time to fire, phillips had fired again and wounded his man the second time. foster now leaned against a porch column, desperately resolved to get a good aim,--his antagonist, all the while advancing, attempted to fire again, but missed this time, the cap refusing to communicate the deadly flash to the chamber of the revolver,--then there was a blinding flash from foster's gun, accompanied by a thunderous report, and the two men fell almost instantaneously. foster had discharged both barrels of his weapon, heavily loaded with buck-shot, at phillips, the entire charge having entered his wooden leg, and sent him spinning to the ground, like the sudden jerk and whirl of a nearly spent top, the recoil of the gun also "kicking" foster flat as a tennessee "poor white's" corn pone. the "gentlemen" who had been looking on and quietly criticising the little by-play, now rushed forward and surrounded the combatants, the anxiety of each of whom was to be assured of the other's death; or, in case of his being alive, to have some one to be the immediate bearer of tender regards and profuse expressions of friendship; thus terminating satisfactorily to all parties what the chivalrous inhabitants of victoria informed my detectives was called a "stag duel," the most common and effective method known for settling the little difficulties liable at any time to occur among gentlemen, the only conditions imposed by custom being that neither party shall offer to shoot in a crowded room, or be allowed to fire at his opponent unless he is also prepared, when other citizens who may be using the streets at those times withdraw from them as rapidly as consistent with the proprieties, when the occasion is immediately made interesting to the participants, who advance and fire upon each other as rapidly as a liberal practice in this and other "codes" of taking human life will permit. as the next sensation to a "stag duel" in victoria was the arrival of the "train" from lavaca, in the shape of the hand-car manned by four burly negroes, who with the original superintendent of the road had formed a soulless corporation with which nothing could compete, it was not long before the detectives had secured seats with four other passengers, making ten persons in all, to be conveyed twenty-eight miles on a broken-down hand-car over probably the most villainous excuse for a railroad ever known. the fare was six dollars in gold for each passenger, which might seem to have a shade of exorbitance about it when it was considered that the accommodations consisted of two very insecure seats, constructed over the wheels, upon each of which three persons might cling with a constant expectation of being jolted off by the unevenness of the road, or of falling off from sheer fatigue in endeavor to cling to the ramshackle boards beneath them. "all abo'd!" shouted the negro conductor, with all the style and unction of the diamond-pinned aristocrat of a new york central train; and then, as the "train" started out of victoria the passengers and the admiring lookers-on were greeted with the following song, tuned to the "ra-ta-tat" of the wheels upon the rails, and sturdily sung, or chanted rather, by the jolly but powerful crew: "heave ho! away we go-- winds may wait, or de winds may blow! heave ho! away we go-- for to cotch de gals at lavac--o!" in the sense that this mode of traveling had the charm of novelty and the thrilling attraction of danger combined, it was a success. there was freshness and variety about it, too; for, whenever one of the negroes had "done gin out," the conductor would call for volunteers from among the passengers, and give the demand a peculiar emphasis by the remark, "takes brawn 'n sinyew to pump dis hy'r train into 'vacca; 'n de' lo'd never did make no men out o' cl'ar iron 'n steel!" the argument was so forcible that some one would work with the negroes while the "clean done gone" man and brother rested and meditated upon "catchin' the gals of 'vacca!" which the song brought out so feelingly. besides this, new interest would be added to the excursion whenever the wind was favorable; for, stopping the car, a mast, to which a sort of "mutton-leg sail," as they termed it, would be attached; the conductor would brace himself and would lengthen or shorten the sail as was most judicious, and then the hand-car ship would speed along the billowy tract like a majestic thing of life for a mile or two, when the party were again forced into a realizing sense of the plodding nature of the means of transit, which, after all, at times became monotonous. on one of these occasions of momentary fair sailing and enthusiasm, they were also favored with a down grade of quite a stretch; and, as everybody was happy at the wonderful rate of speed acquired, while the negroes were singing snatches of songs in the gayest manner possible, a "spread" of the track let the car upon the ties, from which it leaped at one bound into the swamp, completely immersing several of its occupants in the muddy slime. no damage was done, however, as the spot where everything and everybody alighted was too soft to cause anything to be broken; and after righting the car, and repairing the disaster as much as possible, william and keating safely arrived in lavaca early in the afternoon, were at once driven to indianola, where they cleaned up, including a most welcome bathing and shaving, at the magnolia house; embarked on a little schooner carrying the government mail down the coast; were becalmed in aranzas bay, and late during the night of the twenty-seventh of january the light from a quaint seaport city danced along the waves of its beautiful harbor, and welcomed the worn-out but indefatigable detectives to corpus christi. vii. going ashore, the two proceeded to a sort of hotel or boarding-house on the beach, where they found judge carpenter, formerly of chicago, who had become district judge there, and who, on learning my son's name, inquired if he were not a relative of allan pinkerton the detective. he replied that he was very _distantly_ related, which was a literal truth at that time, when the judge, claiming an acquaintance, proffered any assistance which might be desired, whatever his business. the courtesy was courteously accepted, but no questions were asked concerning taylor. after breakfast the next morning, they strolled up-town with judge carpenter, when passing a mr. buckley's store, keating, while catching step, took occasion to nudge my son, who carelessly looked into the place, as any stranger might, and there saw the object of his long search pleasantly chatting with one of the clerks; but they walked on quietly with the judge as far as the post-office, when he kindly introduced them to another mr. taylor, the postmaster. after a few moments' pleasant conversation, william asked the postmaster if he could direct him to ex-sheriff john mclane's residence. it proved to be but a block distant, but on inquiring there, it was ascertained that he was absent at his store, farther down-town. he was the only person in that city, besides keating, whom my son felt that he could trust, as i had not only previously rendered him service, but also held him in the light of a friend; and he had already been requested by me to render him any service in his power, should william pass that way, so that he knew the first thing he should do was to go to him, explain his business fully and secure his immediate advice and assistance. finding him, he told him that he did not feel justified in arresting taylor unless the mail-boat in which he had arrived was, in some way, detained for an hour. mclane said he would attend to that, and brought captain reinhart to the store, but not telling him why the delay was desired, arranged for the same, and at once hunted up sheriff benson, to whom my son delivered the warrant and demanded the prisoner. benson at first hesitated, expressing the utmost surprise, as taylor was a fellow-boarder, and he could not realize, so he said, that he was other than a brave and chivalrous gentleman, and began to question the validity of the requisition, but william told him that there was the order of governor pease approved by general canby, and that he did not propose to be dallied with or imposed upon in any manner. seeing that my son had come too far and undergone too many hardships to be trifled with, he went with him to buckley's store, where they found taylor, who was given into the detectives' hands, though utterly astounded and completely unnerved at the idea that the strong hand of the law was upon him. in this condition, and before he could collect his scattered senses and decide to make a legal resistance, which would have caused my son a vast amount of trouble, if indeed it had not resulted in the liberation of the elegant swindler, he was placed on board the schooner. after they had left corpus christi behind, william began a system of soothing argument, with the end in view of convincing taylor, who was now becoming nervous and restless, and evidently ashamed of being carried away so ingloriously, that it would be the best thing for himself, his brother, and even his people in philadelphia, to go along quietly, without creating any disturbance, as, should he do so, he would treat him like a gentleman in every instance; but should he give him any trouble whatever he would be obliged to put him in irons, and not only treat him like a criminal, but would serve him roughly in every particular. taylor saw that he was in my power, and that i had put two men after him who would have gone to cape horn for him, and that his only chance of escape lay in strategy. he had the perfect freedom of the boat, and, when he desired, chatted with the captain and the crew, who were not apprised by my son of the character of his new companion, and everything was done to make him comfortable. at first he kept entirely to himself, but of a sudden his manner changed entirely, and he became particularly pleasant, especially to the captain of the boat; and as they were nearing the little barren saluria island, at the entrance to matagorda bay, william accidentally overheard the captain say to taylor, "the tide is high enough, and i will be able to run close to the island." this caused him to have no particular suspicion of taylor, as the remark might equally apply to a hundred other subjects besides the one to which it did; but in a few moments after, he noticed the schooner, which had hugged the island pretty closely, now suddenly take a still closer tack, and rapidly neared the barren coast. feeling alarmed lest the helmsman was not attending to his duty, my son yelled: "captain, what under heaven do you mean? don't you see that in another moment you'll have us beached?" he had scarcely uttered the words when taylor was seen to spring into the waves, and then disappear, and the boat at the same moment stood off from the island, as if in obedience to the warning my son had given. the truth flashed into his mind in an instant: here, after this hard, unremitting toil, the discomforts, the annoyances, the dangers, everything through which they had been obliged to pass, after their hopes for success, and after they had earned it--if two men ever had earned success--just when they were beginning to feel the pleasure of work well done, and be able to experience the genuine satisfaction it is to any man who is honest enough to acknowledge it, in securing the regard of the public for assisting in its protection, the commendation of one's employer for good sturdy care for his interests, and the self-respect one gains in doing one's duty, even if it has led him a hard life of it,--they were to be cheated and outwitted. half crazed, my son, with anger and indignation, and a perfect flood of humiliating thoughts filled his brain in the first great question, "what was to be done?" his first impulse was to plunge in after him, and in pursuance of that impulse he had freed himself of his boots and coat, when, seeing taylor rise to the surface and make but little headway against the tide, which was ebbing strongly, he call to the captain to round to, and began firing with considerable rapidity, so as to strike the water within a few feet of the man who was so unsuccessfully struggling against the tide, but whom he could not blame for making so brave and desperate an effort to free himself. he was provided with two magnificent english trenter revolvers, which will carry a half-ounce ball a fourth of a mile with absolute accuracy; and as he could use it with great precision he could easily have killed the man in the water. both the captain and taylor were terribly scared, and as taylor held up his hand, and yelled--"i surrender!" the balls were cutting into the water all about him savagely, and the captain shouted, "for god's sake, don't kill the man! don't you see i'm rounding to?" keating, who had been almost worn out from the texas trip, had been sleeping in a bunk below, and who had been roused by william's firing and the strange motion of the schooner, now came on deck rather thinly clad, and the two detectives covered taylor with their revolvers; while the captain, himself at the wheel, handled the schooner so that it was only necessary for him to keep himself above water in order to float with the tide against the side of the boat, when my son, rather too indignant to be particularly tender, grabbed him by the hair and his luxuriant whiskers, drew him aboard, and soundly kicked him into the cabin, where he began crying from excitement and fright, even going to such depths of discouragement that he begged for a revolver with which to kill himself, which being handed him by my son for that purpose, he very properly refused, and was put to bed for the purpose of drying his clothes like a truant school-boy. it was my son's intention to take the steamer at indianola for galveston immediately upon arriving at the former place; but on account of a heavy "norther," which had blown all day friday, the steamer had been obliged to put out to sea, and the party were consequently compelled to put up at the magnolia house, and wait there until the following monday; and it required all the detective's shrewdness to keep taylor quiet, as he had learned from some source that the creation of wyoming territory, which occurred a short time before his capture, had caused cheyenne to be a city of quite a different territory than when the requisition was issued, which would have amounted to so grave a technical flaw that the requisition would not have held against a _habeas corpus_. court had just set at the place, and indianola was full of lawyers, hungry as vultures for just such a rich case; but by constant persuasions, partial promises, leading to a hope, at least, that a compromise might be effected at new orleans, and dark hints of irons, and that, should his brother come on there and create any disturbance he would be immediately arrested as accessory both before and after the crime; with constant drives out into the country, rambles down the sea-shore, and every pretext known to the mind of the ingenious detective, everything was managed successfully; a receipt for nearly two thousand dollars in specie secured; the turning over of the money to taylor's brother stopped; and taylor himself taken to new orleans without an attempt at rescue; and receiving a dispatch there from me to the effect that a compromise could not be for a moment considered, the party left that city thursday, february th, arriving in cheyenne six days later, my son accounting for his prisoner to the authorities into whose hands the case then passed; the last being seen of "harry g. taylor, the man from somewhere," being behind the bars of the guard-house at fort russell, where he had been placed for safe-keeping previous to his trial;--and i have related these facts, not so much to show any startling phase of crime, as to give the public a single illustration, out of thousands upon my records, of how men must overcome every known obstacle while leading the hard life of the detective. the end. okewood of the secret service by valentine williams (pseud. douglas valentine) contents i. the deputy turn ii. captain strangwise entertains a guest iii. mr. mackwayte meets an old friend iv. major okewood encounters a new type v. the murder at seven kings vi. "name o'barney" vii. nur-el-din viii. the white paper package ix. metamorphosis x. d. o. r. a. is baffled xi. credentials xii. at the mill house xiii. what shakespeare's comedies revealed xiv. barbara takes a hand xv. mr. bellward is called to the telephone xvi. the star of poland xvii. mr. bellward arranges a bridge evening xviii. the gathering of the spies xix. the uninvited guest xx. the odd man xxi. the black velvet toque xxii. what the cellar revealed xxiii. mrs. malplaquet goes down to the cellar xxiv. the two deserters xxv. to mrs. malplaquet's xxvi. the man in the summer house xxvii. the red lacquer room xxviii. an offer from strangwise xxix. dot and dash xxx. hohenlinden trench xxxi. the , pound kit chapter i. the deputy turn mr. arthur mackwayte slipped noiselessly into the dining-room and took his place at the table. he always moved quietly, a look of gentle deprecation on his face as much as to say: "really, you know, i can't help being here: if you will just overlook me this time, by and by you won't notice i'm there at all!" that was how he went through life, a shy, retiring little man, quiet as a mouse, gentle as a dove, modesty personified. that is, at least, how mr. arthur mackwayte struck his friends in private life. once a week, however, he fairly screamed at the public from the advertisement columns of "the referee": "mackwayte, in his celebrated kerbstone sketches. wit! pathos! tragedy!!! the epitome of london life. universally acclaimed as the greatest portrayer of london characters since the late chas. dickens. in tremendous demand for public dinners. the popular favorite. a few dates still vacant. , laleham villas, seven kings. 'phone" and so on. but only professionally did mr. mackwayte thus blow his own trumpet, and then in print alone. for the rest, he had nothing great about him but his heart. a long and bitter struggle for existence had left no hardness in his smooth-shaven flexible face, only wrinkles. his eyes were gray and keen and honest, his mouth as tender as a woman's. his daughter, barbara, was already at table pouring out the tea--high tea is still an institution in music-hall circles. mr. mackwayte always gazed on this tall, handsome daughter of his with amazement as the great miracle of his life. he looked at her now fondly and thought how.... how distinguished, yes, that was the word, she looked in the trim blue serge suit in which she went daily to her work at the war office. "rations a bit slender to-night, daddy," she said, handing him his cup of tea, "only sardines and bread and butter and cheese. our meatless day, eh?" "it'll do very well for me, barbara, my dear," he answered in his gentle voice, "there have been times when your old dad was glad enough to get a cup of tea and a bite of bread and butter for his supper. and there's many a one worse off than we are today!" "any luck at the agent's, daddy?" mr. mackwayte shook his head. "these revues are fair killing the trade, my dear, and that's a fact. they don't want art to-day, only rag-time and legs and all that. our people are being cruelly hit by it and that's a fact. why, who do you think i ran into at harris' this morning? why, barney who used to work with the great charles, you know, my dear. for years he drew his ten pound a week regular. yet there he was, looking for a job the same as the rest of us. poor fellow, he was down on his luck!" barbara looked up quickly. "daddy, you lent him money...." mr. mackwayte looked extremely uncomfortable. "only a trifle, my dear, just a few shillings.... to take him over the week-end.... he's getting something.... he'll repay me, i feel sure...." "it's too bad of you, daddy," his daughter said severely. "i gave you that ten shillings to buy yourself a bottle of whiskey. you know he won't pay you back. that barney's a bad egg!" "things are going bad with the profession," replied mr. mackwayte. "they don't seem to want any of us old stagers today, barbara!" "now, daddy, you know i don't allow you to talk like that. why, you are only just finished working.... the samuel circuit, too!" barbara looked up at the old man quickly. "only, four weeks' trial, my dear.... they didn't want me, else they would have given me the full forty weeks. no, i expect i am getting past my work. but it's hard on you child...." barbara sprang up and placed her hand across her father's mouth. "i won't have you talk like that, mac"--that was her pet name for him--"you've worked hard all your life and now it's my turn. men have had it all their own way before this war came along: now women are going to have a look in. presently' when i get to be supervisor of my section and they raise my pay again, you will be able to refuse all offers of work. you can go down to harris with a big cigar in your mouth and patronize him, daddy..." the telephone standing on the desk in the corner of the cheap little room tingled out sharply. barbara rose and went across to the desk. mr. mackwayte thought how singularly graceful she looked as she stood, very slim, looking at him whimsically across the dinner-table, the receiver in her hand. then a strange thing happened. barbara quickly put the receiver down on the desk and clasped her hands together, her eyes opened wide in amazement. "daddy," she cried, "it's the palaceum... the manager's office... they want you urgently! oh, daddy, i believe it is an engagement!" mr. mackwayte rose to his feet in agitation, a touch of color creeping into his gray cheeks. "nonsense, my dear!" he answered, "at this time of night! why, it's past eight... their first house is just finishing... they don't go engaging people at this time of day... they've got other things to think of!" he went over to the desk and picked up the receiver. "mackwayte speaking!" he said, with a touch of stage majesty in his voice. instantly a voice broke in on the other end of the wire, a perfect torrent of words. "mackwayte? ah! i'm glad i caught you at home. got your props there? good. hickie of hickie and flanagan broke his ankle during their turn at the first house just now, and i want you to take their place at the second house. your turn's at . : it's a quarter past eight now: i'll have a car for you at your place at ten to nine sharp. bring your band parts and lighting directions with you... don't forget! you get twenty minutes, on! right! goodbye!" "the palaceum want me to deputize for hickie and flanagan, my dear," he said a little tremulously' " . ... the second house... it's... it's very unexpected!" barbara ran up and throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him. "how splendid!" she exclaimed, "the palaceum, daddy! you've never had an engagement like this before... the biggest hall in london...!! "only for a night, my dear"' said mr. mackwayte modestly. "but if they like you, daddy, if it goes down... what will you give them, daddy?" mr. mackwayte scratched his chin. "it's the biggest theatre in london"' he mused, "it'll have to be broad effects... and they'll want something slap up modern, my dear, i'm thinking..." "no, no, daddy" his daughter broke in vehemently "they want the best. this is a london audience, remember, not a half-baked provincial house. this is london, mac, not wigan! and londoners love their london! you'll give 'em the old london horse bus driver, the sporting cabby, and i believe you'll have time to squeeze in the hot potato man..." "well, like your poor dear mother, i expect you know what's the best i've got" replied mr. mackwayte, "but it'll be a bit awkward with a strange dresser... i can't get hold of potter at this time, of night... and a stranger is sure to mix up my wigs and things..." "why, daddy, i'm going with you to put out your things..." "but a lady clerk in the war office, barbara... a government official, as you might say... go behind at a music-hall... it don't seem proper right, my dear!" "nonsense, mac. where is your theatre? come along. we'll have to try and get a taxi!" "they're sending a car at ten to nine, my dear!" "good gracious! what swells we are! and it's half-past eight already! who is on the bill with you?" "my dear, i haven't an idea... i'm not very well up in the london programmes' i'm afraid... but it is sure to be a good programme. the palaceum is the only house that's had the courage to break away from this rotten revue craze!" barbara was in the hall now, her arms plunged to the shoulder in a great basket trunk that smelt faintly of cocoa-butter. right and left she flung coats and hats and trousers and band parts, selecting with a sure eye the properties which mr. mackwayte would require for the sketches he would play that evening. in the middle of it all the throbbing of a car echoed down the quiet road outside. then there came a ring at the front door. * * * * * * at half-past nine that night, barbara found herself standing beside her father in the wings of the vast palaceum stage. just at her back was the little screened-off recess where mr. mackwayte was to make the quick changes that came in the course of his turn. here, since her arrival in the theatre, barbara had been busy laying out coats and hats and rigs and grease-paints on the little table below the mirror with its two brilliant electric bulbs, whilst mr. mackwayte was in his dressing-room upstairs changing into his first costume. now, old mackwayte stood at her elbow in his rig-out as an old london bus-driver in the identical, characteristic clothes which he had worn for this turn for the past years. he was far too old a hand to show any nervousness he might feel at the ordeal before him. he was chatting in undertones in his gentle, confidential way to the stage manager. all around them was that curious preoccupied stillness hush of the power-house which makes the false world of the stage so singularly unreal by contrast when watched from the back. the house was packed from floor to ceiling, for the palaceum's policy of breaking away from revue and going back to mr. mackwayte called "straight vaudeville" was triumphantly justifying itself. standing in the wings, barbara could almost feel the electric current running between the audience and the comedian who, with the quiet deliberation of the finished artist, was going through his business on the stage. as he made each of his carefully studied points, he paused, confident of the vast rustle of laughter swelling into a hurricane of applause which never failed to come from the towering tiers of humanity before him, stretching away into the roof where the limelights blazed and spluttered. save for the low murmur of voices at her side, the silence behind the scenes was absolute. no one was idle. everyone was at his post, his attention concentrated on that diminutive little figure in the ridiculous clothes which the spot-lights tracked about the stage. it was the high-water mark of modern music-hall development. the perfect smoothness of the organization gave barbara a great feeling of contentment for she knew how happy her father must be. everyone had been so kind to him. "i shall feel a stranger amongst the top-liners of today, my dear," he had said to her in the car on their way to the hall. she had had no answer ready for she had feared he spoke the truth. yet everyone they had met had tried to show them that arthur mackwayte was not forgotten. the stage-door keeper had known him in the days of the old aquarium and welcomed him by name. the comedian who preceded mr. mackwayte and who was on the stage at that moment had said, "hullo, mac! come to give us young 'uns some tips?" and even now the stage manager was talking over old days with her father. "you had a rough but good schooling, mac," he was saying, "but, by jove, it gave us finished artists. if you saw the penny reading line that comes trying to get a job here... and gets it, by gad!... it'd make you sick. i tell you i have my work cut out staving them off! it's a pretty good show this week, though, and i've given you a good place, mac... you're in front of nur-el-din!" "nur-el-din?" repeated mr. mackwayte' "what is it, fletcher? a conjurer?" "good lord' man' where have you been living?" replied fletcher. "nur-el-din is the greatest vaudeville proposition since lottie collins. conjurer! that's what she is, too, by jove! she's the newest thing in oriental dancers... spaniard or something... wonderful clothes, what there is of 'em... and jewelry... wait till you see her!" "dear me"' said mr. mackwayte' "i'm afraid i'm a bit behind the times. has she been appearing here long?" "first appearance in london, old man' and she's made good from the word 'go!' she's been in paris and all over the continent, and america, too, i believe, but she had to come to me to soar to the top of the bill. i saw at once where she belonged! she's a real artiste, temperament, style and all that sort of thing and a damn good producer into the bargain! but the worst devil that ever escaped out of hell never had a wickeder temper! she and i fight all the time! not a show, but she doesn't keep the stage waiting! but i won! i won't have her prima donna tricks in this theatre and so i've told her! hullo, georgie's he's finishing..." the great curtain switched down suddenly, drowning a cascade of applause, and a bundle of old clothes, twitching nerves, liquid perspiration and grease paint hopped off the stage into the centre of the group. an electric bell trilled, the limelights shut off, with a jerk that made the eyes ache, a back-cloth soared aloft and another glided down into its place, the comedian took two, three, four calls, then vanished into a horde of dim figures scuttling about in the gloom. an electric bell trilled again and deep silence fell once more, broken only by the hissing of the lights. "you ought to stop behind after your turn and see her, mac," the stage manager's voice went on evenly. "all right, jackson! on you go, mac!" barbara felt her heart jump. now for it, daddy! the great curtain mounted majestically and arthur mackwayte, deputy turn, stumped serenely on to the stage. chapter ii. captain strangwise entertains a guest it was the slack hour at the nineveh hotel. the last groups about the tea-tables in the palm court had broken up, the tzigane orchestra had stacked its instruments together on its little platform and gone home, and a gentle calm rested over the great hotel as the forerunner of the coming dinner storm. the pre-dinner hour is the uncomfortable hour of the modern hotel de luxe. the rooms seem uncomfortably hot, the evening paper palls, it is too early to dress for dinner, so one sits yawning over the fire, longing for a fireside of one's own. at least that is how it strikes one from the bachelor standpoint, and that is how it appeared to affect a man who was sitting hunched up in a big arm-chair in the vestibule of the nineveh hotel on this winter afternoon. his posture spoke of utter boredom. he sprawled full length in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his, eyes half-closed, various editions of evening papers strewn about the ground at his feet. he was a tall, well-groomed man, and his lithe, athletic figure looked very well in its neat uniform. a pretty little woman who sat at one of the writing desks in the vestibule glanced at him more than once. he was the sort of man that women look at with interest. he had a long, shrewd, narrow head, the hair dark and close-cropped, a big, bold, aquiline nose, and a firm masterful chin, dominated by a determined line of mouth emphasised by a thin line of moustache. he would have been very handsome but for his eyes, which, the woman decided as she glanced at him, were set rather too close together. she thought she would prefer him as he was now, with his eyes glittering in the fire-light through their long lashes. but what was most apparent was the magnificent physical fitness of the man. his was the frame of the pioneer, the man of the earth's open spaces and uncharted wilds. he looked as hard as nails, and the woman murmured to herself, as she went on with her note, "on leave from the front." presently, the man stirred, stretched himself and finally sat up. then he started, sprang to his feet, and strode easily across the vestibule to the reception desk. an officer was standing there in a worn uniform, a very shabby kit-bag by his side, a dirty old burberry over his arm. "okewood!" said the young man and touched the other on the shoulder, "isn't it desmond okewood? by jove, i am glad to see you!" the new-comer turned quickly. "why, hullo," he said, "if it isn't maurice strangwise! but, good heavens, man, surely i saw your name in the casualty list... missing, wasn't it?" "yep!" replied the other smiling, "that's so! it's a long story and it'll keep! but tell me about yourself... this," he kicked the kit-bag with the toe of his boot, "looks like a little leave! just in from france?" he smiled again, baring his firm, white teeth, and looking at him desmond suddenly remembered, as one recalls a trifle, his trick of smiling. it was a frank enough smile but... well, some people smile too much. "got in just now by the leave train," answered desmond. "how much leave have you got?" asked strangwise. "well," said the other, "it's a funny thing, but i don't know!" "say, are they giving unlimited leave over there now?" desmond laughed. "hardly," he replied. "but the war office just applied for me to come over and here i am! what they want me for, whether it's to advise the war council or to act as quartermaster to the jewish battalion i can't tell you! i shan't know until tomorrow morning! in the meantime i'm going to forget the war for this evening!" "what are you going to do to-night?" asked strangwise. desmond began to check off on his fingers. "firstly, i'm going to fill the biggest bath in this hotel with hot water, get the biggest piece of pears' soap in london, and jump in: then, if my tailor hasn't betrayed me, i'm going to put on dress clothes, and whilst i am dressing summon julien (if he's maitre d'hotel here) to a conference, then i'm going to eat the best dinner that this pub can provide. then..." strangwise interrupted him. "the bath is on you, if you like," he said, "but the dinner's on me and a show afterwards. i'm at a loose end, old man, and so are you, so we'll hit up together! we'll dine in the restaurant here . , and julien shall come up to your room so that you can order the dinner. is it a go?" "rather," laughed desmond, "i'll eat your dinner, maurice, and you shall tell me how you managed to break out of the casualty list into the nineveh hotel. but what do all these anxious-looking gentry want?" the two officers turned to confront a group of four men who were surveying them closely. one of them, a fat, comfortable looking party with grizzled hair, on seeing desmond, walked up to him. "hullo!" said desmond, "it's tommy spencer! how are you, spencer? what's the betting in fleet street on the war lasting another five years? have you come to interview me?" the tubby little man beamed and shook hands effusively. "glad to see you looking so well, major," he said, "it's your friend we want..." "what? strangwise? here, maurice, come meet my friend tommy spencer of the "daily record," whom i haven't seen since we went on manoeuvres together down at aldershot! captain strangwise, tommy spencer! now, then, fire away; spencer!" strangwise smiled and shook his head. "i'm very pleased to know your friend, desmond," he said, "but, you know, i can't talk! i had the strictest orders from the war office... it's on account of the other fellows, you know..." desmond looked blankly at him. then he--turned to spencer. "you must let me into this, spencer," he said, "what's old maurice been up to? has he been cashiered for wearing shoes or what?" spencer's manner became a trifle formal. "captain strangwise has escaped from a prisoners' of war camp in germany, major," he said, "we've been trying to get hold of him for days! he's the talk of london!" desmond turned like a shot. "maurice!" he cried, "'pon my soul, i'm going to have an interesting evening... why, of course, you are just the sort of fellow to do a thing like that. but, spencer, you know, it won't do... fellows are never allowed to talk to the newspaper men about matters of this kind. and if you're a good fellow, spencer, you won't even say that you have seen strangwise here... you'll only get him into trouble!" the little man looked rather rueful. "oh, of course, major, if you put it that way," he said. "... and you'll use your influence to make those other fellows with you drop it, will you, spencer? and then come along to the bar and we'll have a drink for old times' sake!" spencer seemed doubtful about the success of his representations to his colleagues but he obediently trotted away. apparently, he succeeded in his mission for presently he joined the two officers alone in the american bar. "i haven't seen strangwise for six months, spencer," said desmond over his second cocktail. "seeing him reminds me how astonishing it is the way fellows drop apart in war. old maurice was attached to the brigade of which i am the brigade major as gunner officer, and we lived together for the best part of three months, wasn't it, maurice? then he goes back to his battery and the next thing i hear of him is that he is missing. and then i'm damned if he doesn't turn up here!" spencer cocked an eye at strangwise over his martini. "i'd like to hear your story, despite the restrictions," he said. strangwise looked a trifle embarrassed. "maybe i'll tell you one day," he replied in his quiet way, "though, honestly, there's precious little to tell..." desmond marked his confusion and respected him for it. he rushed in to the rescue. "spencer," he said abruptly, "what's worth seeing in london? we are going to a show to-night. i want to be amused, mark you, not elevated!" "nur-el-din at the palaceum," replied the reporter. "by jove, we'll go there," said desmond, turning to maurice. "have you ever seen her? i'm told she's perfectly marvelous..." "it's an extraordinarily artistic turn," said spencer, "and they're doing wonderful business at the palaceum. you'd better go and see the show soon, though, for they tell me the lady is leaving the programme." "no!" exclaimed strangwise so suddenly that desmond turned round and stared at him. "i thought she was there for months yet..." "they don't want her to go," answered spencer, "she's a perfect gold-mine to them but i gather the lady is difficult... in fact, to put it bluntly she's making such a damn nuisance of herself with her artistic temperament that they can't get on with her at all." "do you know this lady of the artistic temperament, maurice?" asked desmond. strangwise hesitated a moment. "i met her in canada a few years ago," he said slowly, "she was a very small star then. she's a very handsome and attractive girl, in spite of our friend's unfavorable verdict. there's something curiously real about her dancing, too, that you don't find in this sort of show as a rule!" he stopped a moment, then added abruptly: "we'll go along to the palaceum to-night, if you like, desmond," and desmond joyfully acquiesced. to one who has been living for weeks in an ill-ventilated pill-box on the passchendaele ridge, the lights and music and color of a music-hall seem as a foretaste of paradise. and that was what desmond okewood thought as a few hours later he found himself with maurice strangwise in the stalls of the vast palaceum auditorium. in the unwonted luxury of evening clothes he felt clean and comfortable, and the cigar he way smoking was the climax of one of julien's most esoteric efforts. the cards on either side of the proscenium opening bore the words: "deputy turn." on the stage was a gnarled old man with ruddy cheeks and a muffler, a seedy top hat on his head, a coaching whip in his hand, the old horse bus-driver of london in his habit as he had lived. the old fellow stood there and just talked to the audience of a fine sporting class of men that petrol has driven from the streets, without exaggerated humor or pathos. desmond, himself a born cockney, at once fell under the actor's spell and found all memories of the front slipping away from him as the old london street characters succeeded one another on the stage. then the orchestra blared out, the curtain descended, and the house broke into a great flutter of applause. desmond, luxuriating in his comfortable stall puffed at his cigar and fell into a pleasant reverie. he was contrasting the ghastly nightmare of mud and horrors from which he had only just emerged with the scene of elegance, of civilization; around him. suddenly, his attention became riveted on the stage. the atmosphere of the theatre had changed. always quick at picking up "influences," desmond instantly sensed a new mood in the throngs around him. a presence was in the theatre, an instinct-awakening, a material influence. the great audience was strangely hushed. the air was heavy with the tent of incense. the stringed instruments and oboes in the orchestra were wandering into [updater's note: a line appears to be missing from the source here] rhythmic dropped. maurice touched his elbow. "there she is!" he said. desmond felt inclined to shake him off roughly. the interruption jarred on him. for he was looking at this strangely beautiful girl with her skin showing very brown beneath a wonderful silver tiara-like headdress, and in the broad interstices of a cloth-of-silver robe with short, stiffly wired-out skirt. she was seated, an idol, on a glittering black throne, at her feet with their tapering dyed nails a fantastically attired throng of worshipers. the idol stirred into life, the music of the orchestra died away. then a tom-tom began to beat its nervous pulse-stirring throb, the strident notes of a reed-pipe joined in and the dancer, raised on her toes on the dais, began to sway languorously to and fro. and so she swayed and swayed with sinuously curving limbs while the drums throbbed out faster with ever-shortening beats, with now and then a clash of brazen cymbals that was torture to overwrought nerves. the dancer was the perfection of grace. her figure was lithe and supple as a boy's. there was a suggestion of fire and strength and agility about her that made one think of a panther as she postured there against a background of barbaric color. the grace of her movements, the exquisite blending of the colors on the stage, the skillful grouping of the throng of worshipers, made up a picture which held the audience spellbound and in silence until the curtain dropped. desmond turned to find strangwise standing up. "i thought of just running round behind the scenes for a few minutes," he said carelessly. "what, to see nur-el-din? by jove, i'm coming, too!" promptly exclaimed desmond. strangwise demurred. he didn't quite know if he could take him: there might be difficulties: another time... but desmond got up resolutely. "i'll be damned if you leave me behind, maurice," he laughed, "of course i'm coming, too! she's the most delightful creature i've ever set eyes on!" and so it ended by them going through the pass-door together. chapter iii. mr. mackwayte meets an old friend that night nur-el-din kept the stage waiting for five minutes. it was a climax of a long series of similar unpardonable crimes in the music-hall code. the result was that mr. mackwayte, after taking four enthusiastic "curtains," stepped off the stage into a perfect pandemonium. he found fletcher, the stage manager, livid with rage, surrounded by the greater part of the large suite with which the dancer traveled. there was madame's maid, a trim frenchwoman, madame's business manager, a fat, voluble italian, madame's secretary, an olive-skinned south american youth in an evening coat with velvet collar, and madame's principal male dancer in a scanty egyptian dress with grotesquely painted face. they were all talking at the same time, and at intervals fletcher muttered hotly: "this time she leaves the bill or i walk out of the theatre!" then a clear voice cried: "me voila!" and a dainty apparition in an ermine wrap tripped into the centre of the group, tapped the manager lightly on the shoulder and said: "allons! i am ready!" mr. mackwayte's face creased its mask of paint into a thousand wrinkles. for, on seeing him, the dancer's face lighted up, and, running to him with hands outstretched, she cried: "tiens! monsieur arthur!" while he ejaculated: "why, it's little marcelle!" but now the stage manager interposed. he whisked madame's wrap off her with one hand and with the other, firmly propelled her on to the stage. she let him have his way with a merry smile, dark eyes and white teeth flashing, but as she went she said to mr. mackwayte: "my friend, wait for me! et puis nous causerons! we will 'ave a talk, nest-ce pas?" "a very old friend of mine, my dear," mr. mackwayte said to barbara when, dressed in his street clothes, he rejoined her in the wings where she stood watching nur-el-din dancing. "she was an acrobat in the seven duponts, a turn that earned big money in the old days. it must be... let's see... getting on for twenty years since i last set eyes on her. she was a pretty kid in those days! god bless my soul! little marcelle a big star! it's really most amazing!" directly she was off the stage, nur-el-din came straight to mr. mackwayte, pushing aside her maid who was waiting with her wrap. "my friend," she cooed in her pretty broken english, "i am so glad, so glad to see you. and this is your girl... ah! she 'as your eyes, monsieur arthur, your nice english gray eyes! such a big girl... ah! but she make me feel old!" she laughed, a pretty gurgling laugh, throwing back her head so that the diamond collar she was wearing heaved and flashed. "but you will come to my room, hein?" she went on. "marie, my wrap!" and she led the way to the lift. nur-el-din's spacious dressing-room seemed to be full of people and flowers. all her little court was assembled amid a perfect bower of hot-house blooms and plants. head and shoulders above everybody else in the room towered the figure of an officer in uniform, with him another palpable englishman in evening dress. desmond okewood thought he had never seen anything in his life more charming than the picture the dancer made as she came into the room. her wrap had fallen open and beneath the broad bars of her cloth-of-silver dress her bosom yet rose and fell after the exertions of her dance. a jet black curl had strayed out from beneath her lofty silver head-dress, and she thrust it back in its place with one little brown bejeweled hand whilst she extended the other to strangwise. "tiens, mon capitaine!" she said. desmond was watching her closely, fascinated by her beauty, but noticed an unwilling, almost a hostile tone, in her voice. strangwise was speaking in his deep voice. "marcelle," he said, "i've brought a friend who is anxious to meet you. major desmond okewood! he and i soldiered together in france!" the dancer turned her big black eyes full on desmond as she held out her hand to him. "old friends, new friends," she cried, clapping, her hands like a child, "i love friends. captaine, here is a very old friend," she said to strangwise as mr. mackwayte and barbara came into the rooms, "monsieur arthur mackwayte and 'is daughter. i 'ave know monsieur arthur almos' all my life. and, mademoiselle, permit me? i introduce le captaine strangwise and 'is friend... what is the name? ah, major okewood!" nur-el-din sank into a bergere chair beside her great mirror. "there are too many in this room," she cried, "there is no air! lazarro, ramiro, all of you, go outside, my friends!" as madame's entourage surged out, strangwise said: "i hear you are leaving the palaceum, marcelle!" he spoke so low that mr. mackwayte and barbara, who were talking to desmond, did not hear. marcelle, taking off her heavy head-dress, answered quickly: "who told you that?" "never mind," replied strangwise. "but you never told me you were going. why didn't you?" his voice was stern and hard now, very different from his usual quiet and mellow tones. but he was smiling. marcelle cast a glance over her shoulder. barbara was looking round the room and caught the reflection of the dancer's face in a mirror hanging on the wall. to her intense astonishment, she saw a look of despair, almost of terror, in nur-el-din's dark eyes. it was like the frightened stare of some hunted beast. barbara was so much taken aback that she instinctively glanced over her shoulder at the door, thinking that the dancer had seen something there to frighten her. but the door was shut. when barbara looked into the mirror again, she saw only the reflection of nur-el-din's pretty neck and shoulders. the dancer was talking again in low tones to strangwise. but barbara swiftly forgot that glimpse of the dancer's face in the glass. for she was very happy. happiness, like high spirits, is eminently contagious, and the two men at her side were supremely content. her father's eyes were shining with his little success of the evening: on the way upstairs fletcher had held out hopes to him of a long engagement at the palaceum while as for the other, he was radiant with the excitement of his first night in town after long months of campaigning. he was thinking that his leave had started most propitiously. after a man has been isolated for months amongst muddy masculinity, the homeliest woman will find favor in his eyes. and to neither of these women, in whose presence he so unexpectedly found himself within a few hours of landing in england, could the epithet "homely" be applied. each represented a distinct type of beauty in herself, and desmond, as he chatted with barbara, was mentally contrasting the two women. barbara, tall and slim and very healthy, with her braided brown hair, creamy complexion and gray eyes, was essentially english. she was the typical woman of england, of england of the broad green valleys and rolling downs and snuggling hamlets, of england of the white cliffs gnawed by the restless ocean. the other was equally essentially a woman of the south. her dark eyes, her upper lip just baring her firm white teeth, spoke of hot latin or gypsy blood surging in her veins. hers was the beauty of the east, sensuous, arresting, conjuring up pictures of warm, perfumed nights, the thrumming of guitars, a great yellow moon hanging low behind the palms. "barbara!" called nur-el-din from the dressing table. mr. mackwayte had joined her there and was chatting to strangwise. "you will stay and talk to me while i change n'est-ce pas? your papa and these gentlemen are going to drink a whiskey-soda with that animal fletcher... quel homme terrible... and you shall join them presently." the men went out, leaving barbara alone with the dancer. barbara noticed how tired nur-el-din was looking. heir pretty, childish ways seemed to have evaporated with her high spirits. her face was heavy and listless. there were lines round heir eyes, and her mouth had a hard, drawn look. "child," she said, "give me, please, my peignoir... it is behind the door,... and, i will get this paint off my face!" barbara fetched the wrapper and sat down beside the dancer. but nur-el-din did not move. she seemed to be thinking. barbara saw the hunted look she had already observed in her that evening creeping over her face again. "it is a hard life; this life of ours, a life of change, ma petite! a great artiste has no country, no home, no fireside! for the past five years i have been roaming about the world! often i think i will settle down, but the life holds me!" she took up from her dressing-table a little oblong plain silver box. "i want to ask you a favor, ma petite barbara!" she said. "this little box is a family possession of mine: i have had it for many years. the world is so disturbed to-day that life is not safe for anybody who travels as much as i do! you have a home, a safe home with your dear father! he was telling me about it! will you take this little box and keep it safely for me until... until... the war is over... until i ask you for it?" "yes, of course," said barbara, "if you wish it, though, what with these air raids, i don't know that london is particularly safe, either." "ah! that is good of you," cried nur-el-din, "anyhow, the little box is safer with you than with me. see, i will wrap it up and seal it, and then you will take it home with you, n'est-ce pas?" she opened a drawer and swiftly hunting among its contents produced a sheet, of white paper, and some sealing-wax. she wrapped the box in the paper and sealed it up, stamping the seals with a camel signet ring she drew off her finger. then she handed the package to barbara. there was a knock at the door. the maid, noiselessly arranging madame's dresses in the corner opened it. "you will take care of it well for me," the dancer said to barbara, and her voice vibrated with a surprising eagerness, "you will guard it preciously until i come for it..." she laughed and added carelessly: "because it is a family treasure, a life mascotte of mine, hein?" then they heard strangwise's deep voice outside. nur-el-din started. "le captaine is there, madame," said the french maid, "'e say monsieur mackwayte ask for mademoiselle!" the dancer thrust a little hand from the folds of her silken kimono. "au revoir, ma petite," she said, "we shall meet again. you will come and see me, nest-ce pas? and say nothing to anybody about..." she pointed to barbara's bag where the little package was reposing, "it shall be a secret between us, hein? promise me this, mon enfant!" "of course, i promise, if you like!" said barbara, wonderingly. at half-past eight the next morning desmond okewood found himself in the ante-room of the chief of the secret service in a cross and puzzled mood. the telephone at his bedside had roused him at a.m. from the first sleep he had had in a real bed for two months. in a drowsy voice he had protested that he had an appointment at the war office at o'clock, but a curt voice had bidden him dress himself and come to the chief forthwith. here he was, accordingly, breakfastless, his chin smarting from a hasty shave. what the devil did the chief want with him anyhow? he wasn't in the secret service, though his brother, francis, was. a voice broke in upon his angry musing. "come in, okewood!" it said. the chief stood at the door of his room, a broad-shouldered figure in a plain jacket suit. desmond had met him before. he knew him for a man of many questions but of few confidences, yet his recollection of him was of a suave, imperturbable personality. to-day, however, the chief seemed strangely preoccupied. there was a deep line between his bushy eyebrows as he bent them at desmond, motioning him to a chair. when he spoke, his manner was very curt. "what time did you part from the mackwaytes at the theatre last night?" desmond was dumbfounded. how on earth did the chief know about his visit to the palaceum? still, he was used to the omniscience of the british intelligence, so he answered promptly: "it was latish, sir; about midnight, i think!" "they went home to seven kings alone!" "yes, sir, in a taxi!" desmond replied. the chief contemplated his blotting-pad gloomily. desmond knew it for a trick of his when worried. "did you have a good night?" he said to desmond, suddenly. "yes," he said, not in the least understanding the drift of the question. "... though i didn't mean to get up quite so early!" the chief ignored this sally. "nothing out of the ordinary happened during the night, i suppose?" he asked again. desmond shook his head. "nothing that i know of, sir," he said. "seen strangwise this morning?" desmond gasped for breath. so the chief knew about him meeting strangwise, too! "no, sir!" a clerk put his head in at the door. "well, matthews!" "captain strangwise will be along very shortly, sir," he said. the chief looked up quickly. "ah, he's all right then! good." "and, sir," matthews added, "scotland yard telephoned to say that the doctor is with miss mackwayte now." desmond started up. "is miss mackwayte ill?" he exclaimed. the chief answered slowly, as matthews withdrew: "mr. mackwayte was found murdered at his house early this morning!" chapter iv. major okewood encounters a new type there is a sinister ring about the word "murder," which reacts upon even the most hardened sensibility. edgar allan poe, who was a master of the suggestive use of words, realized this when he called the greatest detective story ever written "the murders in the rue morgue." from the very beginning of the war, desmond had seen death in all its forms but that word "murdered," spoken with slow emphasis in the quiet room, gave him an ugly chill feeling round the heart that he had never experienced on the battlefield. "murdered!" desmond repeated dully and sat down. he felt stunned. he was not thinking of the gentle old man cruelly done to death or of the pretty barbara prostrate with grief. he was overawed by the curious fatality that had plucked him from the horrors of flanders only to plunge him into a tragedy at home. "yes," said the chief bluntly, "by a burglar apparently--the house was ransacked!" "chief," he broke out, "you must explain. i'm all at sea! why did you send for me? what have you got to do with criminal cases, anyway? surely, this is a scotland yard matter!" the chief shook his head. "i sent for you in default of your brother, okewood!" he said. "you once refused an offer of mine to take you into my service, but this time i had to have you, so i got the war office to wire..." "then my appointment for ten o'clock to-day was with you?" desmond exclaimed in astonishment. the chief nodded. "it was," he said curtly. "but," protested desmond feebly, "did you know about this murder beforehand!" the chief threw back his head and laughed. "my dear fellow," he said; "i'm not quite so deep as all that. i haven't second sight, you know!" "you've got something devilish like it, sir!" said desmond. "how on earth did you know that i was at the palaceum last night?" the chief smiled grimly. "oh, that's very simple," he said. "shall i tell you some more about yourself? you sat..." he glanced down at the desk in front of him,"... in stall e and, after nur-el-din's turn, strangwise took you round and introduced you to the lady. in her dressing-room you met mr. mackwayte and his daughter. after that..." "but," desmond interrupted quickly, "i must have been followed by one of your men. still, i can't see why my movements should interest the secret service, sir!" the chief remained silent for a moment. then he said: "fate often unexpectedly takes a hand in this game of ours, okewood. i sent for you to come back from france but old man destiny wouldn't leave it at that. almost as soon as you landed he switched you straight on to a trail that i have been patiently following up for months past. that trail is..." the telephone on the desk rang sharply. "whose trail?" desmond could not forbear to ask as the chief took off the receiver. "just a minute," the chief said. then he spoke into the telephone: "marigold? yes. really? very well, i'll come straight along now... i'll be with you in twenty minutes. good-bye!" he put down the receiver and rose to his feet. "okewood," he cried gaily, "what do you say to a little detective work? that was marigold of the criminal investigation department... he's down at seven kings handling this murder case. i asked him to let me know when it would be convenient for me to come along and have a look round, and he wants me to go now. two heads are better than one. you'd better come along!" he pressed a button on the desk. the swift and silent matthews appeared. "matthews," he said, "when captain strangwise comes, please tell him i've been called away and ask him to call back here at two o'clock to see me." he paused and laid a lean finger reflectively along his nose. "are you lunching anywhere, okewood?" he 'said. desmond shook his head. "then you will lunch with me, eh? right. come along and we'll try to find the way to seven kings." the two men threaded the busy corridors to the lift which deposited them at the main entrance. a few minutes later the chief was dexterously guiding his vauxhall car through the crowded traffic of the strand, desmond beside him on the front seat. desmond was completely fogged in his mind. he couldn't see light anywhere. he asked himself in vain what possible connection could exist between this murder in an obscure quarter of london and the man at his side who, he knew, held in his firm hands lines that stretched to the uttermost ends of the earth? what kind of an affair was this, seemingly so commonplace that could take the chief's attention from the hundred urgent matters of national security that occupied him? the chief seemed absorbed in his driving and desmond felt it would be useless to attempt to draw him out. they wended their way through the city and out into the squalid length of the mile end road. then the chief began to talk. "i hate driving through the city," he exclaimed, "but i always think it's good for the nerves. still, i have a feeling that i shall smash this old car up some day. that friend of yours, strangwise, now he's a remarkable man! do you know his story?" "about his escape from germany?" asked desmond. the chief nodded. "he told me something about it at dinner last night," said desmond, "but he's such a modest chap he doesn't seem to like talking about it!" "he must have a cool nerve," replied the chief, "he doesn't know a word of german, except a few scraps he picked up in camp. yet, after he got free, he made his way alone from somewhere in hanover clear to the dutch frontier. and i tell you he kept his eyes and ears open!" "was he able to tell you anything good" asked desmond. "the man's just full of information. he couldn't take a note of any kind, of course, but he seems to have a wonderful memory. he was able to give us the names of almost every unit of troops he came across." he stopped to skirt a tram, then added suddenly: "do you know him well, okewood?" "yes, i think i do," said desmond. "i lived with him for about three months in france, and we got on top-hole together. he's a man absolutely without fear." "yes," agreed the chief. "but what about his judgment? would you call him a well-balanced fellow? or is he one of these harum-scarum soldier of fortune sort of chaps?" "i should say he was devilish shrewd," replied the other. "strangwise is a very able fellow and a fine soldier. the brigadier thought a lot of him. there's very little about artillery work that strangwise doesn't know. our brigadier's a good judge, too... he was a gunner himself once, you know." "i'm glad to hear you say that," answered the chief, "because there are some things he has told us, about the movements of troops, particularly, that don't agree in the least with our own intelligence reports. i am an old enough hand at my job to know that very often one man may be right where fifty independent witnesses are dead wrong. yet our reports from germany have been wonderfully accurate on the whole." he stopped. "tell me," he asked suddenly, "is strangwise a liar, do you think?" desmond laughed. the question was so very unexpected. "let me explain what i mean," said the chief. "there is a type of man who is quite incapable of telling the plain, unvarnished truth. that type of fellow might have the most extraordinary adventure happen to him and yet be unable to let it stand on its merits. when he narrates it, he trims it up with all kinds of embroidery. is strangwise that type?" desmond thought a moment. "your silence is very eloquent," said the chief drily. desmond laughed. "it's not the silence of consent," he said, "but if you want me to be quite frank about strangwise, chief, i don't mind telling you i don't like him overmuch. we were very intimate in france. we were in some very tight corners together and he never let me down. he showed himself to be a very fine fellow, indeed. there are points about him i admire immensely. i love his fine physique, his manliness. i'm sure he's got great strength of character, too. it's because i admire all this about him that i think perhaps it's just jealousy on my part when i feel..." "what?" said the chief. "well," said desmond slowly, "i feel myself trying to like something below the surface in the man. and then i am balked. there seems to be something abysmally deep behind the facade, if you know what i mean. if i think about it much, it seems to me that there is too much surface about strangwise and not enough foundation! and he smiles... well, rather often, doesn't he?" "i know what you mean," said the chief. "i always tell my young men to be wary when a man smiles too much. smiles are sometimes camouflage, to cover up something that mustn't be seen underneath! strangwise is a canadian, isn't he?" "i think so," answered desmond, "anyhow, he has lived there. but he got his commission over here. he came over some time in , i believe, and joined up." "ah, here we are!" cried the chief, steering the car down a turning marked "laleham villas." laleham villas proved to be an immensely long terrace of small two-story houses, each one exactly like the other, the only difference between them lying in the color of the front doors and the arrangement of the small strip of garden in front of each. the houses stretched away on either side in a vista of smoke-discolored yellow brick. the road was perfectly straight and, in the dull yellow atmosphere of the winter morning, unspeakably depressing. the abode of small clerks and employees, laleham villas had rendered up, an hour before, its daily tribute of humanity to the city-bound trains of the great eastern railway. the mackwayte's house was plainly indicated, about yards down on the right-hand side, by a knot of errand boys and bareheaded women grouped on the side-walk. a large, phlegmatic policeman stood at the gate. "you'll like marigold," said the chief to desmond as they got out of the car, "quite a remarkable man and very sound at his work!" british officers don't number detective inspectors among their habitual acquaintances, and the man that came out of the house to meet them was actually the first detective that desmond had ever met. ever since the chief had mentioned his name, desmond had been wondering whether mr. marigold would be lean and pale and bewildering like mr. sherlock holmes or breezy and wiry like the detectives in american crook plays. the man before him did not bear the faintest resemblance to either type. he was a well-set up, broad-shouldered person of about forty-five, very carefully dressed in a blue serge suit and black overcoat, with a large, even-tempered countenance, which sloped into a high forehead. the neatly brushed but thinning locks carefully arranged across the top of the head testified to the fact that mr. marigold had sacrificed most of his hair to the vicissitudes of his profession. when it is added that the detective had a small, yellow moustache and a pleasant, cultivated voice, there remains nothing further to say about mr. marigold's external appearance. but there was something so patent about the man, his air of reserve, his careful courtesy, his shrewd eyes, that desmond at once recognized him for a type, a cast from a certain specific mould. all services shape men to their own fashion. there is the type of guardsman, the type of airman, the type of naval officer. and desmond decided that mr. marigold must be the type of detective, though, as i have said, he was totally unacquainted with the genus. "major okewood, marigold," said the chief, "a friend of mine!" mr. marigold mustered desmond in one swift, comprehensive look. "i won't give you my hand, major," the detective said, looking down at desmond's proffered one, "for i'm in a filthy mess and no error. but won't you come in, sir?" he said to the chief and led the way across the mosaic tile pathway to the front door which stood open. "i don't think this is anything in your line, sir," said mr. marigold to the chief as the three men entered the house, "it's nothing but just a common burglary. the old man evidently heard a noise and coming down, surprised the burglar who lost his head and killed him. the only novel thing about the whole case is that the old party was shot with a pistol and not bludgeoned, as is usually the case in affairs of this kind. and i shouldn't have thought that the man who did it was the sort that carries a gun..." "then you know who did it?" asked the chief quietly. "i think i can safely say i do, sir," said mr. marigold with the reluctant air of one who seldom admits anything to be a fact, "i think i can go as far as that! and we've got our man under lock and key!" "that's a smart piece of work, marigold," said the chief. "no, sir," replied the other, "you could hardly call it that. he just walked into the arms of a constable over there near goodmayes station with the swag on him. he's an old hand... we've known him for a receiver for years! "who is it?" asked the chief, "not one of my little friends, i suppose, eh, marigold!" "dear me, no, sir," answered mr. marigold, chuckling, "it's one of old mackwayte's music-hall pals, name o' barney!" chapter v. the murder at seven kings "this is mrs. chugg, sir," said mr. marigold, "the charwoman who found the body!" the chief and desmond stood at the detective's side in the mackwaytes' little dining-room. the room was in considerable disorder. there was a litter of paper, empty bottles, overturned cruets and other debris on the floor, evidence of the thoroughness with which the burglar had overhauled the cheap fumed oak sideboard which stood against the wall with doors and drawers open. in the corner, the little roll-top desk showed a great gash in the wood round the lock where it had been forced. the remains of a meal still stood on the table. mrs. chugg, a diminutive, white-haired, bespectacled woman in a rusty black cape and skirt, was enthroned in the midst of this scene of desolation. she sat in an armchair by the fire, her hands in her lap, obviously supremely content with the position of importance she enjoyed. at the sound of mr. marigold's voice, she bobbed up and regarded the newcomers with the air of a tragedy queen. "yus mister," she said with the slow deliberation of one who thoroughly enjoys repeating an oft-told tale, "i found the pore man and a horrid turn it give me, too, i declare! i come in early this morning a-purpose to turn out these two rooms, the dining-room and the droring-room, same as i always do of a saturday, along of the lidy's horders and wishes. i come in 'ere fust, to pull up the blinds and that, and d'reckly i switches on the light 'burglars!' i sez to meself, 'burglars! that's wot it is!' seeing the nasty mess the place was in. up i nips to miss mackwayte's room on the first floor and in i bursts. 'miss,' sez i, 'miss, there's been burglars in the house!' and then i sees the pore lamb all tied up there on 'er blessed bed! lor, mister, the turn it give me and i ain't telling you no lies! she was strapped up that tight with a towel crammed in 'er mouth she couldn't 'ardly dror 'er breath! i undid 'er pretty quick and the fust thing she sez w'en i gets the towl out of her mouth, the pore dear, is 'mrs. chugg,' she sez all of a tremble as you might say, 'mrs. chugg' sez she, 'my father! my father!' sez she. with that up she jumps but she 'adn't put foot to the floor w'en down she drops! it was along of 'er being tied up orl that time, dyer see, mister! i gets 'er back on the bed. 'you lie still, miss,' says i, 'and i'll pop in and tell your pa to come in to you!' well; i went to the old genelmun's room. empty!" mrs. chugg paused to give her narrative dramatic effect. "and where did you find mr. mackwayte?" asked the chief in such a placid voice that mrs. chugg cast an indignant glance at him. "i was jes' going downstairs to see if 'e was in the kitching or out at the back," she continued, unheeding the interruption, "when there on the landing i sees a foot asticking out from under the curting. i pulls back the curting and oh, lor! oh, dear, oh, dear, the pore genelmun, 'im as never did a bad turn to no one!" "come, come, mrs. chugg!" said the detective. the charwoman wiped her eyes and resumed. "'e was a-lying on his back in 'is dressing-gown, 'is face all burnt black, like, and a fair smother o' blood. under 'is hed there was a pool o' blood, mister, yer may believe me or not..." mr. marigold cut in decisively. "do you wish to see the body, sir?" the detective asked the chief, "they're upstairs photographing it!" the chief nodded. he and desmond followed the detective upstairs, whilst mrs. chugg resentfully resumed her seat by the fire. on her face was the look of one who has cast pearls before swine. "any finger-prints?" asked the chief in the hall. "oh, no," he said, "barney's far too old a hand for that sort o' thing!" the landing proved to be a small space, covered with oilcloth and raised by a step from the bend made by the staircase leading to the first story. on the left-hand side was a window looking on a narrow passage separating the mackwayte house from its neighbors and leading to the back-door. by the window stood a small wicker-work table with a plant on it. at the back of the landing was a partition, glazed half-way up and a door--obviously the bath-room. the curtain had been looped right over its brass rod. the body lay on its back at the foot of the table, arms flung outward, one leg doubled up, the other with the foot just jutting out over the step leading down to the staircase. the head pointed towards the bath-room door. over the right eye the skin of the face was blackened in a great patch and there was a large blue swelling, like a bruise, in the centre. there was a good deal of blood on the face which obscured the hole made by the entrance of the bullet. the eyes were half-closed. a big camera, pointed downwards, was mounted on a high double ladder straddling the body and was operated by a young man in a bowler hat who went on with his work without taking the slightest notice of the detective and his companions. "close range," murmured desmond, after glancing at the dead man's face, "a large calibre automatic pistol, i should think!" "why do you think it was a large calibre pistol, major?" asked mr. marigold attentively. "i've seen plenty of men killed at close range by revolver and rifle bullets out at the front," replied desmond, "but i never saw a man's face messed up like this. in a raid once i shot a german at point blank range with my revolver, the ordinary army issue pattern, and i looked him over after. but it wasn't anything like this. the only thing i've seen approaching it was one of our sergeants who was killed out on patrol by a hun officer who put his gun right in our man's face. that sergeant was pretty badly marked, but..." he shook his head. then he added, addressing the detective: "let's see the gun! have you got it?" mr. marigold shook his head. "he hadn't got it on him," he answered, "he swears he never had a gun. i expect he chucked it away somewhere. it'll be our business to find it for him!" he smiled rather grimly, then added: "perhaps you'd care to have a look at miss mackwayte's room, sir!" "is miss mackwayte there" asked the chief. "i got her out of this quick," replied mr. marigold, "she's had a bad shock, poor girl, though she gave her evidence clearly enough for all that... as far as it goes and that's not much. some friends near by have taken her in! the doctor has given her some bromide and says she's got to be kept quiet..." "what's her story!" queried the chief. "she can't throw much light on the business. she and her father reached home from the theatre about a quarter past twelve, had a bit of supper in the dining-room and went up to bed before one o'clock. miss mackwayte saw her father go into his room, which is next to hers, and shut the door. the next thing she knows is that she woke up suddenly with some kind of a loud noise in her ears... that was the report of the pistol, i've no doubt... she thought for a minute it was an air raid. then suddenly a hand was pressed over her mouth, something was crammed into her mouth and she was firmly strapped down to the bed." "did she see the man?" asked desmond. "she didn't see anything from first to last," answered the detective, "as far as she is concerned it might have been a woman or a black man who trussed her up. it was quite dark in her bedroom and this burglar fellow, after binding and gagging her, fastened a bandage across her eyes into the bargain. she says she heard him moving about her room and then creep out very softly. the next thing she knew was mrs. chugg arriving at her bedside this morning." "what time did this attack take place?" asked the chief. "she has no idea," answered the detective. "she couldn't see her watch and they haven't got a striking clock in the house." "but can she make no guess!" "well, she says she thinks it was several hours before mrs. chugg arrived in the morning... as much as three hours, she thinks!" "and what time did mrs. chugg arrive!" "at half-past six!" "about mackwayte... how long was he dead when they found him? what does the doctor say?" "about three hours approximately, but you know, they can't always tell to an hour or so!" "well," said the chief slowly, "it looks as if one might figure the murder as having been committed some time between and . a.m." "my idea exactly," said mr. marigold. "shall we go upstairs?" he conducted the chief and desmond up the short flight of stairs to the first story. he pushed open the first door he came to. "mackwayte's room, on the back," he said, "bed slept in, as you see, old gentleman's clothes on a chair--obviously he was disturbed by some noise made by the burglar and came out to see what was doing! and here," he indicated a door adjoining, "is miss mackwayte's room, on the front; as you observe. they don't use the two rooms on the second floor, except for box-rooms... one's full of old mackwayte's theatre trunks and stuff. they keep no servant; mrs. chugg comes in each morning and stays all day. she goes away after supper every evening." desmond found himself looking into a plainly furnished but dainty bedroom with white furniture and a good deal of chintz about. there were some photographs and pictures hanging on the walls. the room was spotlessly clean and very tidy. desmond remarked on this, asking if the police had put the room straight. mr. marigold looked quite shocked. "oh, no, everything is just as it was when mrs. chugg found miss mackwayte this morning. there's miss mackwayte's gloves and handbag on the toilet-table just as she left 'em last night. i wouldn't let her touch her clothes even. she went over to mrs. appleby's in her dressing-gown, in a taxi." "then master burglar didn't burgle this room?" asked the chief. "nothing touched, not even the girl's money," replied marigold. "then why did he come up here at all?" asked desmond. "obviously, the old gentleman disturbed him," was the detective's reply. "barney got scared and shot the old gentleman, then came up here to make sure that the daughter would not give him away before he could make his escape. he must have known the report of the gun would wake her up." "but are there no clues or finger-prints or anything of that kind here, marigold?" asked the chief. "not a finger-print anywhere," responded the other, "men like barney are born wise to the fingerprint business, sir." he dipped a finger and thumb into his waistcoat pocket. "clues? well, i've got one little souvenir here which i daresay a writer of detective stories would make a good bit of." he held in his hand a piece of paper folded flat. he unfolded it and disclosed a loop of dark hair. "there!" he said mockingly, straightening out the hair and holding it up in the light. "that's calculated to set one's thoughts running all over the place, isn't it? that piece of hair was caught in the buckle of one of the straps with which miss mackwayte was bound to the bed. miss mackwayte, i would point out, has brown hair. whose hair do you think that is?" desmond looked closely at the strand of hair in the detective's fingers. it was long and fine and glossy and jetblack. the chief laughed and shook his head. "haven't an idea, marigold," he answered, "barney's, i should imagine, that is, if he goes about with black ringlets falling round his shoulders." "barney?" echoed the detective. "barney's as bald as i am. besides, if you saw his sheet, you'd realize that he has got into the habit of wearing his hair short!" he carefully rolled the strand of hair up, replaced it in its paper and stowed it in his waistcoat pocket. "it just shows how easily one is misled in a matter of this kind," he went on. "supposing barney hadn't got himself nabbed, supposing i hadn't been able to find out from miss mackwayte her movements on the night previous to the murder, that strand of hair might have led me on a fine wild goose chase!" "but, damn it, marigold," exclaimed the chief, laughing, "you haven't told us whose hair it is?" "why, nur-el-din's, of course!" the smile froze on the chief's lips, the laughter died out of his eyes. desmond was amazed at the change in the man. the languid interest he had taken in the different details of the crime vanished. something seemed to tighten up suddenly in his face and manner. "why nur-el-din?" he asked curtly. mr. marigold glanced quickly at him. desmond remarked that the detective was sensible of the change too. "simply because miss mackwayte spent some time in the dancer's dressing-room last night, sir," he replied quietly, "she probably sat at her dressing-table and picked up this hair in hers or in her veil or something and it dropped on the bed where one of master barney's buckles caught it up." he spoke carelessly but desmond noticed that he kept a watchful eye on the other. the chief did not answer. he seemed to have relapsed into the preoccupied mood in which desmond had found him that morning. "i was going to suggest, sir," said mr. marigold diffidently, "if you had the time, you might care to look in at the yard, and see the prisoner. i don't mind telling you that he is swearing by all the tribes of judah that he's innocent of the murder of old mackwayte. he's got an amazing yarn... perhaps you'd like to hear it!" mr. marigold suddenly began to interest desmond. his proposal was put forward so modestly that one would have thought the last thing he believed possible was that the chief should acquiesce in his suggestion. yet desmond had the feeling that the detective was far from being so disinterested as he wished to seem. it struck desmond that the case was more complicated than mr. marigold admitted and that the detective knew it. had mr. marigold discovered that the chief knew a great deal more about this mysterious affair than the detective knew himself? and was not his attitude of having already solved the problem of the murder, his treatment of the chief as a dilettante criminologist simply an elaborate pose, to extract from the chief information which had not been proffered? the chief glanced at his watch. "right," he said, "i think i'd like to go along." "i have a good deal to do here still," observed mr. marigold, "so, if you don't mind, i won't accompany you. but perhaps, sir, you would like to see me this afternoon?" the chief swung round on his heel and fairly searched mr. marigold with a glance from beneath his bushy eyebrows. the detective returned his gaze with an expression of supreme innocence. "why, marigold," answered the chief, "i believe i should. six o'clock suit you?" "certainly, sir," said mr. marigold. desmond stood by the door, vastly amused by this duel of wits. the chief and mr. marigold made a move towards the door, desmond turned to open it and came face to face with a large framed photograph of the chief hanging on the wall of miss mackwayte's bedroom. "why, chief," he cried, "you never told me you knew miss mackwayte!" the chief professed to be very taken aback by this question. "dear me, didn't i, okewood?" he answered with eyes laughing, "she's my secretary!" chapter vi. "name o'barney" "miss mackwayte telephoned to ask if i could go and see, her," said the chief to desmond as they motored back to white hall, "marigold gave me the message just as we were coming out. she asked if i could come this afternoon. i'm going to send you in my place, okewood. i've got a conference with the head of the french intelligence at three, and the lord knows when i shall get away. i've a notion that you and miss mackwayte will work very well together." "certainly," said desmond, "she struck me as being a very charming and clever girl. now i know the source of your information about my movements last night!" "that you certainly don't!" answered the chief promptly, "if i thought you did duff and no. should be sacked on the spot!" "then it wasn't miss mackwayte who told you?" "i haven't seen or heard from miss mackwayte since she left my office yesterday evening. you were followed!" "but why?" "i'll tell you all about it at, lunch!" bated once more, desmond retired into his shell. by this he was convinced of the utter impossibility of making the chief vouchsafe any information except voluntarily. mr. marigold had evidently announced their coming to scotland yard, for a very urbane and delightful official met them at the entrance and conducted them to a room where the prisoner was already awaiting them in charge of a plain clothes man. there the official excused himself and retired, leaving them alone with the prisoner and his escort. barney proved to be a squat, podgy, middle-aged jew of the familiar east end polish or russian type. he had little black beady eyes, a round fat white face, and a broad squabby mongol nose. his clothes were exceedingly seedy, and the police had confiscated his collar and tie. this absence of neckwear, coupled with the fact that the lower part of his face was sprouting with a heavy growth of beard, gave him a peculiarly villainous appearance: he was seated on a chair, his head sunk on his breast. his eyes were hollow, and his face overspread with a horrible sickly greenish pallor, the hue of the last stage of fear. his hands, resting on his knees, twisted and fiddled continually. every now and then convulsive shudders shook him. the man was quite obviously on the verge of a collapse. as the chief and desmond advanced into the room, the jew looked up in panic. then he sprang to his feet with a scream and flung himself on his knees, crying: "ah, no! don't take me away! i ain't done no 'arm, gentlemen! s'welp me, gentlemen, i ain't a murderer! i swear..." "get him up!" said the chief in disgust, "and, look here, can't you give him a drink? i want to speak to him. he's not fit to talk rationally in this state!" the detective pushed a bell in the wall, a policeman answered it, and presently the prisoner was handed a stiff glass of whiskey and water. after barney had swallowed it, the chief said: "now, look here, my man, i want you to tell me exactly what happened last night. no fairy tales, remember! i know what you told the police, and if i catch you spinning me any yarns on to it, well, it'll only be the worse for you. i don't mind telling you, you're in a pretty bad mess!" the prisoner put down the glass wearily and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. though the room was bitterly cold, the perspiration stood out in beads on his brow. "i have told the trewth, sir," he said hoarsely, "and it goes against me, don't it? hafen't i not gif myself op to the policeman? couldn't i not haf drop the svag and ron away? for sure! and vy didn't i not do it? for vy, because of vot i seen in that house. i've 'ad my bit of trobble mit the police and vy should i tell them how i vos op to a game last night if i vas not a-telling the trewth, eh! i've been on the crook, gentlemen, i say it, ja, but i ain't no murderer, god choke me i ain't! "i've earned gut monney in my time on the 'alls but life is very 'ardt, and i've been alvays hongry these days. yesterday i meet old mac wot i used to meet about the 'alls i vos workin' along o' my boss... at the agent's it vos were i vos lookin' for a shop! the perfesh always makes a splash about its salaries, gentlemen, and mac 'e vos telling me vot a lot o' monney he make on the samuel circuit and 'ow 'e 'ad it at home all ready to put into var savings certif'kits. i never done a job like this von before, gentlemen, but i vos hardt pushed for money, s'welp me i vos! "i left it till late last night because of these air raids... i vanted to be sure that ole mac and 'is daughter should be asleep. i god in from the back of the louse, oi, oi, bot it vos dead easy! through the scollery vindow. i cleared op a bagful of stuff in the dining-room... there vosn't, anything vorth snatching outer the parlor... and sixty-five quid out of an old cigar-box in the desk. the police 'as got it... i give it all back! i say i haf stolen, but murder? no!" he paused. "go on," said the chief. the prisoner looked about him in a frightened way. "i vos jus' thinking i had better be getting avay, he continued in his hoarse, gutteral voice, 'ven snick.!... i hears a key in the front door. i vos, standing by the staircase... i had no time to get out by the vay i had kom so i vent opstairs to the landing vere there vos a curtain. i shlip behind the curtain and vait! i dare not look out but i listen, i listen.. i hear some one go into the dining-room and move about. i open the curtain a little way... so!... because i think i vill shlip downstairs vile the other party is in the dining-room... and there i sees ole mac in his dressing-gown just coming down from the first floor. the same moment i hear a step in the front hall. "i see ole mac start but he does not stop. he kom right downstairs, and i step back behind the curtain ontil i find a door vich i push. i dare not svitch on my light but presently i feel the cold edge of a bath with my hands. i stay there and vait. oi, oi, oi, how shall you belief vot i tell?" he broke off trembling. "go on, barney," said the detective, "can't you see the gentlemen are waiting?" the jew resumed, his voice sinking almost to a whisper. "it vos quite dark behind the curtain but from the bathroom, through the open door, i could just see ole mac standing with his back to me, a-holding the curtain. he must haf shlip in there to watch the other who vos komming opstairs. then... then... i hear a step on the stair... a little, soft step... then ole mac he open the curtain and cry 'who are you?' bang! the... the... other on the stairs he fire a shot. i see the red flash and i smell the... the powder not? the other, he does not vait... he just go on opstairs and ole mac is lying there on his back with the blood a-trickling out on the oil-cloth. and i, vith my bag on my back, i creep downstair and out by the back again, and i ron and ron and then i valks. gott! how i haf walked! i vos so frightened! and then, at last, i go to a policeman and gif 'myself op!" barney stopped. the tears burst from his eyes and laying his grimy face on his arm, he sobbed. the detective patted him on the back. "pull yourself together, man!" he said encouragingly. "this man on the stairs," queried the chief, "did you see him?" "ach was!" replied the prisoner, turning a tearstained face towards him, "i haf seen nothing, except old mac's back vich vos right in vront of me, it vos so dark!" "but couldn't you see the other person at all, not even the outline" persisted the chief. the prisoner made a gesture of despair. "it vos so dark, i say! nothing haf i seen! i haf heard only his step!" "what sort of step? was it heavy or light or what? did this person seem in a hurry?" "a little light tread... so! won, two! won, two!, and qvick like 'e think 'e sneak opstairs vithout nobody seeing!" "did he make much noise" "ach was! hardly at all... the tread, 'e vos so light like a woman's..." "like a woman's, eh!", repeated the chief, as if talking to himself, "why do you think that?" "because for vy it vos so gentle! the' staircase, she haf not sqveak as she haf sqveak when i haf creep away!" the chief turned to the plain clothes man. "you can take him away now, officer," he said. barney sprang up trembling. "not back to the cell," he cried imploringly, "i cannot be alone. oh, gentlemen, you vill speak for me! i haf not had trobble vith the police this long time! my vife's cousin, he is an elder of the shool he vill tell you 'ow poor ve haf been..." but the chief crossed the room to the door and the detective hustled the prisoner away. then the official whom they had seen before came in. "glad i caught you," he said. "i thought you would care to see the post mortem report. the doctor has just handed it in." the chief waved him off. "i don't think there's any doubt about the cause of death," he replied, "we saw the body ourselves..." "quite so," replied the other, "but there is something interesting about this report all the same. they were able to extract the bullet!" "oh," said the chief, "that ought to tell us something!" "it does," answered the official. "we've submitted it to our small arms expert, and he pronounces it to be a bullet fired by an automatic pistol of unusually large calibre." the chief looked at desmond. "you were right there," he said. "and," the official went on, "our man says, further, that, as far as he knows, there is only one type of automatic pistol that fires a bullet as big as this one!" "and that is?" asked the chief. "an improved pattern of the german mauser pistol," was the other's startling reply. the chief tapped a cigarette meditatively on the back of his hand. "okewood," he said, "you are the very model of discretion. i have put your reticence to a pretty severe test this morning, and you have stood it very well. but i can see that you are bristling with questions like a porcupine with quills. zero hour has arrived. you may fire away!" they were sitting in the smoking-room of the united service club. "the senior," as men call it, is the very parliament of britain's professional navy and army. even in these days when war has flung wide the portals of the two services to all-comers, it retains a touch of rigidity. famous generals and admirals look down from the lofty walls in silent testimony of wars that have been. of the war that is, you will hear in every cluster of men round the little tables. every day in the hour after luncheon battles are fought over again, personalities criticized, and decisions weighed with all the vigorous freedom of ward-room or the mess ante-room. and so to-day, as he sat in his padded leather chair, surveying the chief's quizzing face across the little table where their coffee was steaming, desmond felt the oddness of the contrast between the direct, matter-of-fact personalities all around them, and the extraordinary web of intrigue which seemed to have spun itself round the little house at seven kings. before he answered the chief's question, he studied him for a moment under cover of lighting a cigarette. how very little, to be sure, escaped that swift and silent mind! at luncheon the chief had scrupulously avoided making, the slightest allusion to the thoughts with which desmond's mind was seething. instead he had told, with the gusto of the born raconteur, a string of extremely droll yarns about "double crosses," that is, obliging gentlemen who will spy for both sides simultaneously, he had come into contact with during his long and varied career. desmond had played up to him and repressed the questions which kept rising to his lips. hence the chief's unexpected tribute to him in the smoking room. "well," said desmond slowly, "there are one or two things i should like to know. what am i here for? why did you have me followed last night? how did you know, before we ever went to seven kings, that barney did not murder old mackwayte? and lastly..." he paused, fearing to be rash; then he risked it: "and lastly, nur-el-din?" the chief leant back in his chair and laughed. "i'm sure you feel much better now," he said. then his face grew grave and he added: "your last question answers all the others!" "meaning nur-el-din?" asked desmond. the chief nodded. "nur-el-din," he repeated. "that's why you're here, that's why i had you followed last night, that's why i..." he hesitated for the word, "let's say, presumed (one knows for certain so little in our work) that our friend barney had nothing to do with the violent death of poor old mackwayte. nur-el-din in the center, the kernel, the hub of everything!" the chief leant across the table and desmond pulled his chair closer. "there's only one other man in the world can handle this job, except you," he began, "and that's your brother francis. do you know where he is, okewood?" "he wrote to me last from athens," answered desmond, "but that must be nearly two months ago." the chief laughed. "his present address is not athens," he said, "if you want to know, he's serving on a german staff somewhere at the back of jerusalem the golden. frankly, i know you don't care about our work, and i did my best to get your brother. he has had his instructions and as soon as he can get away he will. that was not soon enough for me. it had to be him or you. so i sent for you." he stopped and cleared his throat. desmond stared at him. he could hardly believe his eyes. this quiet, deliberate man was actually embarrassed. "okewood," the chief went on, "you know i like plain speaking, and therefore you won't make the mistake of thinking i'm trying to flatter you." desmond made a gesture. "wait a moment and hear me out," the chief went on. "what is required for this job is a man of great courage and steady nerve. yes, we have plenty of fellows like that. but the man i am looking for must, in addition to possessing those qualities, know german and the germans thoroughly, and when i say thoroughly i mean to the very core so that, if needs be, he may be a german, think german, act german. i have men in my service who know german perfectly and can get themselves up to look the part to the life. but they have never been put to the real, the searching test. not one of them has done what you and your brother successfully accomplished. the first time i came across you, you had just come out of germany after fetching your brother away. to have lived for weeks in germany in wartime and to have got clear away is a feat which shows that both you and he can be trusted to make a success of one of the most difficult and critical missions i have ever had to propose. francis is not here. that's why i want you." the chief paused as if weighing something in his mind. "it's not the custom of either service, okewood," he said, "to send a man to certain death. you're not in this creepy, crawly business of ours. you're a pukka soldier and keen on your job. so i want you to know that you are free to turn down this offer of mine here and now, and go back to france without my thinking a bit the worse of you." "would you tell me something about it?" asked desmond. "i'm sorry i can't," replied the other. "there must be only two men in this secret, myself and the fellow who undertakes the mission. of course, it's not certain death. if you take this thing on, you'll have a sporting chance for your life, but that's all. it's going to be a desperate game played against a desperate opponent. now do you understand why i didn't want you to think i was flattering you? you've got your head screwed on right, i know, but i should hate to feel afterwards, if anything went wrong, that you thought i had buttered you up in order to entice you into taking the job on!" desmond took two or three deep puffs of his cigarette and dropped it into the ash-tray. "i'll see you!" he said. the chief grinned with delight. "by jove!" he exclaimed, "i knew you were my man!" chapter vii. nur-el-din the love of romance is merely the nobler form of curiosity. and there was something in desmond okewood's anglo-irish parentage that made him fiercely inquisitive after adventure. in him two men were constantly warring, the irishman, eager for romance yet too indolent to go out in search of it, and the englishman, cautious yet intensely vital withal, courting danger for danger's sake. all his ill-humor of the morning at being snatched away from his work in france had evaporated. in the chief he now saw only the magician who was about to unlock to him the realms of adventure. desmond's eyes shone with excitement as the other, obviously simmering with satisfaction, lit another cigarette and began to speak. "the british public, okewood," he said, hitching his chair closer, "would like to see espionage in this country rendered impossible. such an ideal state of things is, unfortunately out of the question. quite on the contrary, this country of ours is honeycombed with spies. so it will ever be, as long as we have to work with natural means: at present we have no caps of invisibility or magician's carpets available. "as we cannot hope to kill the danger, we do our best to scotch it. personally, my modest ambition is to make espionage as difficult as possible for the enemy by knowing as many as possible of his agents and their channels of communication, and by keeping him happy with small results, to prevent him from finding out the really important things, the disclosure of which would inevitably compromise our national safety." he paused and desmond nodded. "the extent of our business," the chief resumed, "is so large, the issues at stake so vital, that we at the top have to ignore the non-essentials and stick to the essentials. by the nonessentials i mean the little potty spies, actuated by sheer hunger or mere officiousness, the neutral busybody who makes a tip-and-run dash into england, the starving waiter, miserably underpaid by some thieving rogue in a neutral country--or the frank swindler who sends back to the fatherland and is duly paid for long reports about british naval movements which he has concocted without setting foot outside his bloomsbury lodgings. "these folk are dealt with somehow and every now and then one of 'em gets shot, just to show that we aren't asleep, don't you know? but spasmodic reports we can afford to ignore. what we are death on is anything like a regular news service from this country to germany; and to keep up this steady flow of reliable information is the perpetual striving of the men who run the german secret service. "these fellows, my dear okewood, move in darkness. very often we have to grope after 'em in darkness, too. they don't get shot, or hardly ever; they are far too clever for that. between us and them it is a never-ending series of move and countermove, check and counter-check. very often we only know of their activities by enemy action based on their reports. then there is another leak to be caulked, another rat-hole to be nailed up, and so the game goes on. hitherto i think i may say we have managed to hold our own!" the chief stopped to light another cigarette. then he resumed but in a lower voice. "during the past month, okewood," he said, "a new organization has cropped up. the objective of every spy operating in this country is, as you may have surmised, naval matters, the movements of the fleet, the military transports, and the food convoys. this new organization has proved itself more efficient than any of its predecessors. it specializes in the movement of troops to france, and in the journeys of the hospital ships across the channel. its information is very prompt and extremely accurate, as we know too well. there have been some very disquieting incidents in which, for once in a way, luck has been on our side, but as long as this gang can work in the dark there is the danger of a grave catastrophe. with its thousands of miles of sea to patrol, the navy has to take a chance sometimes, you know! well, on two occasions lately, when chances were taken, the hun knew we were taking a chance, and what is more, when and where we were taking it!" the chief broke off, then looking desmond squarely in the eyes, said: "this is the organization that you're going to beak up!" desmond raised his eyebrows. "who is at the head of it?" he asked quietly. the chief, smiled a little bitterly. "by george!" he cried, slapping his thigh, "you've rung the bell in one. okewood, i'm not a rich man, but i would gladly give a year's pay to be able to answer that question. to be perfectly frank with you, i don't know who is at the back of this crowd, but..." his mouth set in a grim line, "i'm going to know!" he added whimsically: "what's more, you're going to find out for me!" desmond smiled at the note of assurance in his voice. "i suppose you've got something to go on?" he asked. "there's nur-el-din, for instance. what about her?" "that young person," replied the chief, "is to be your particular study. if she is not the center of the whole conspiracy, she is, at any rate, in the thick of it. it will be part of your job to ascertain the exact role she is playing." "but what is there against her?" queried desmond. "what is there against her? the bad company she keeps is against her. 'tell me who your friends are and i'll tell you who you are' is a maxim that we have to go on in our profession, okewood. you have met the lady. did you see any of her entourage? her business manager, a fat italian who calls himself lazarro, did you notice him? would you be surprised to hear that lazarro alias sacchetti alias le tardenois is a very notorious international spy who after working in the italian secret service in the pay of the germans was unmasked and kicked out of italy... that was before the war? this pleasant gentleman subsequently did five years in the french penal settlements in new caledonia for robbery with violence at aix-les-bains... oh, we know a whole lot about him! and this woman's other friends! do you know, for instance, where she often spends the week-end? at the country-place of one bryan mowbury, whose name used to be bernhard marburg, a very old hand indeed in the german secret service. she has identified herself right and left with the german espionage service in this country. one day she lunches with a woman spy, whose lover was caught and shot by the french. then she goes out motoring with..." "but why in heaven's name are all these people allowed to run loose?" broke in desmond. "do you mean to say you can't arrest them?" "arrest 'em? arrest 'em? of course, we can arrest 'em. but what's the use? they're all small fry, and we have to keep out a few lines baited with minnows to catch the tritons. none of 'em can do any harm: we watch 'em much too closely for that. once you've located your spy, the battle's won. it's when he--or it may be a she--is running loose, that i get peeved!" the chief sprang impatiently to his feet and strode across the smoking-room, which was all but empty by this time, to get a match from a table. he resumed his seat with a grunt of exasperation. "i can't see light, okewood!" he sighed, shaking his head. "but is this all you've got against nur-el-din?" asked desmond. "no," answered the other slowly, "it isn't. if it were, i need not have called you in. we would have interned or deported her. no, we've traced back to her a line leading straight from the only member of the new organization we have been able to lay by the heels." "then you've made an arrest?" the chief nodded. "a fortnight ago... a respectable, retired english business man, by name of basil bellward... taken with the goods on him, as the saying is..." "an englishman, by jove!" "it's hardly correct to call him an englishman, though he's posed as an english business man for so long that one is almost justified in doing so. as a matter of fact, the fellow is a german named wolfgang bruhl and it is my belief that he was planted in this country at least a dozen years ago solely for the purpose of furnishing him with good, respectable credentials for an emergency like this." "but surely if you found evidence of his connection with this gang of spies, it should be easy to get a clue to the rest of the crowd?" "not so easy as you think," the chief replied. "the man who organized this system of espionage is a master at his craft. he has been careful to seal both ends of every connection, that is to say, though we found evidence of master bellward-bruhl being in possession of highly confidential information relating to the movements of troops, we discovered nothing to show whence he received it or how or where he was going to forward it. but we did find a direct thread leading straight back to nur-el-din." "really," said desmond, "that rather complicates things for her, doesn't it?" "it was in the shape of a letter of introduction, in french, without date or address, warmly recommending the dancer to our friend, bellward." "who is this letter from?" "it is simply signed 'p.', but you shall see it for yourself when you get the other documents in the case." "but surely, sir, such a letter might be presented in perfectly good faith..." "it might, but not this one. this letter, as an expert has ascertained beyond all doubt, is written on german manufactured note-paper of a very superior quality;, the writing is stiff and angular and not french: and lastly, the french in which it is phrased, while correct, is unusually pompous and elaborate." "then..." "the letter was, in all probability, written by a german!" there was a moment's silence. desmond was thinking despairingly of the seeming hopelessness of untangling this intricate webwork of tangled threads. "and this murder, sir," he began. the chief shrugged his shoulders. "the motive, okewood, i am searching for the motive. i can see none except the highly improbable one of miss mackwayte being my confidential secretary. in that case why murder the father, a harmless old man who didn't even know that his daughter is in my service, why kill him, i ask you, and spare the girl? on the other hand, i believe the man barney's story, and can see that marigold does, too. when i first heard the news of the murder over the telephone this morning, i had a kind of intuition that we should discover in it a thread leading back to this mesh of espionage. is it merely a coincidence that a hair, resembling nur-el-din's, is found adhering to the straps with which barbara mackwayte was bound? i can't think so... and yet..." "but do you believe then, that nur-el-din murdered-old mackwayte? my dear chief, the idea is preposterous..." the chief rose from his chair with a sigh. "nothing is preposterous in our work, okewood," he replied. "but it's . , and my french colleague hates to be kept waiting." "i thought you were seeing strangwise, at two?" asked desmond. "i put him off until six o'clock," replied the chief, "he knows nur-el-din, and he may be able to give marigold some pointers about this affair. you're off to see miss mackwayte now, i suppose. you know where she's staying? good. well, i'll say good-bye, okewood. i shan't see you again..." "you won't see me again? how do you mean, sir?" "because you're going back to france!" "going back to france? when?" "by the leave-boat to-night!" desmond smiled resignedly. "my dear chief," he said, "you must be more explicit. what am i going back to france for?" "why, now i come to think of it," replied the chief, "i never told you. you're going back to france to be killed, of course!" "to be killed!" desmond looked blankly at the other's blandly smiling face. "two or three days from now," said the chief, "you will be killed in action in france. i thought of making it a shell. but we'll have it a machine gun bullet if you like. whichever you prefer; it's all the same to me!" he laughed at the dawn of enlightenment in desmond's eyes. "i see," said desmond. "i hope you don't mind," the chief went on more seriously, "but i know you have no people to consider except your brother and his wife. she's in america, and francis can't possibly hear about it. so you needn't worry on that score. or do you?" desmond laughed. "no-o-o!" he said slowly, "but i'm rather young to die. is it absolutely necessary for me to disappear?" "absolutely!" responded the chief firmly. "but how will we manage it?" asked desmond. "catch the leave-boat to-night and don't worry. you will receive your instructions in due course." "but when shall i see you again?" the chief chuckled. "depends entirely on yourself, okewood," he retorted. "when you're through with your job, i expect. in the meantime, miss mackwayte will act between us. on that point also you will be fully instructed. and now i must fly!" "but i say, sir," desmond interposed hastily. "you haven't told me what i am to do. what part am i to play in this business anyway?" "to-morrow," said the chief, buttoning up his coat, "you become mr. basil bellward!" chapter viii. the white paper package a taxi was waiting in pall mall outside the club and desmond hailed it, though secretly wondering what the driver would think of taking him out to seven kings. rather to his surprise, the man was quite affable, took the address of the house where barbara was staying with her friends and bade desmond "hop in." presently, for the second time that day, he was heading for the mile end road. as they zigzagged in and out of the traffic, desmond's thoughts were busy with the extraordinary mission entrusted to him. so he was to sink his own identity and don that of an anglo-german business man, his appearance, accent, habits, everything. the difficulties of the task positively made him cold with fear. the man must have relations, friends, business acquaintances who would be sufficiently familiar with his appearance and manner to penetrate, at any rate in the long run, the most effective disguise. what did bellward look like? where did lie live? how was he, desmond, to disguise himself to resemble him? and, above all, when this knotty problem of make-up had been settled, how was he to proceed? what should be his first step to pick out from among all the millions of london's teeming populace the one obscure individual who headed and directed this gang of spies? why hadn't he asked the chief all these questions? what an annoying man the chief was to deal with to be sure! all said and done, what had he actually told desmond? that there was a german secret service organization spying on the movements of troops to france, that this man, basil bellward, who had been arrested, was one of the gang and that the dancer, nur-el-din, was in some way implicated in the affair! and that was the extent of his confidence! on the top of all this fog of obscurity rested the dense cloud surrounding the murder of old mackwayte with the unexplained, the fantastic, clue of that single hair pointing back to nur-el-din. desmond consoled himself finally by saying that he would be able too get some light on his mission from barbara mackwayte, whom he judged to be in the chief's confidence. but here he was doomed to disappointment. barbara could tell him practically nothing save what he already knew, that they were to work together in this affair. like him, she was waiting for her instructions. barbara received him in a neat little suburban drawing-room in the house of her friends, who lived a few streets away from the mackwaytes. she was wearing a plainly-made black crepe de chine dress which served to accentuate the extreme pallor of her face, the only outward indication of the great shock she had sustained. she was perfectly calm and collected, otherwise, and she stopped desmond who would have murmured some phrases of condolence. "ah, no, please," she said, "i don't think i can speak about it yet." she pulled a chair over for him and began to talk about the chief. "there's not the least need for you to worry," she said with a little woeful smile, like a sun-ray piercing a rain-cloud, "if the chief says 'go back to france and wait for instructions,' you may be sure that everything is arranged, and you will receive your orders in due course. so shall i. that's the chief all over. until you know him, you think he loves mystery for mystery's sake. it isn't that at all. he just doesn't trust us. he trusts nobody!" "but that hardly seems fair to us..." began desmond. "it's merely a precaution," replied barbara, "the chief takes no risks. i've not the least doubt that he has decided to tell you nothing whatsoever about your part until you are firmly settled in your new role. i'm perfectly certain that every detail of your part has already been worked out." "oh, that's not possible," said desmond. "why, he didn't know until an hour ago that i was going to take on this job." barbara laughed. "the chief has taught me a lot about judging men by their looks," she said: "personally, if i'd been in the chief's places i should have gone ahead without consulting you, too." the girl spoke with such directness that there was not the least suggestion of a compliment in her remark, but desmond blushed to the roots of his hair. barbara noticed it and added hastily: "i'm not trying to pay you a compliment: i'm just judging by your type. i believe i can always tell the man that will take on any job, however dangerous, and carry it through to the end." desmond blushed more furiously than ever. he made haste to divert the conversation into a safer channel. "well," he said slowly, "seeing that you and i were intended to work together, it seems to me to be a most extraordinary coincidence our meeting like that last night..." "it was more than a coincidence," said barbara, shaking her dark brown head. "forty-eight hours ago i'd never heard of you, then the chief gave me a telegram to send to your divisional general summoning you home, after that he told me that we were to work together, and a few hours later i run into you in nur-el-din's dressing-room..." she broke off suddenly, her gray eyes big with fear. she darted across the room to an ormolu table on which her handbag was lying. with astonishment, desmond watched her unceremoniously spill out the contents on to the table and rake hastily amongst the collection of articles which a pretty girl carries round in her bag. presently she raised herself erect and turning, faced the officer. she was trembling as though with cold and when she spoke, her voice was low and husky. "gone!" she whispered. "have you lost anything" desmond asked anxiously. "how could i have forgotten it?" she went on as though he had not spoken, "how could i have forgotten it? nearly twelve hours wasted, and it explains everything. what will the chief think of me!" slowly she sank down on the sofa where she had been sitting, then, without any warning, dropped her head into her hands and burst into tears. desmond went over to her. "please don't cry," he said gently, "you have borne up so bravely against this terrible blow; you must try and not let it overwhelm you." all her business-like calm had disappeared now she was that most distracting of all pictures of woman, a pretty girl overwhelmed with grief. she crouched curled upon the sofa, with shoulders heaving, sobbing as though her heart would break. "perhaps you would like me to leave you?" desmond asked. "let me ring for your friends... i am sure you would rather be alone!" she raised a tear-stained face to his, her long lashes glittering. "no, no," she said, "don't go, don't go! i want your help. this is such a dark and dreadful business, more than i ever realized. oh, my poor daddy, my poor daddy!" again she hid her face in her hands and cried whilst desmond stood erect by her aide, compassionate but very helpless. after a little, she dabbed her eyes with a tiny square of cambric, and sitting up, surveyed the other. "i must go to the chief at once," she said, "it is most urgent. would you ring and ask the maid to telephone for a taxi?" "i have one outside," answered desmond. "but won't you tell me what has happened?" "why," said barbara, "it has only just dawned on me why our house was broken into last night and poor daddy so cruelly murdered! whoever robbed the house did not come after our poor little bits of silver or daddy's savings in the desk in the dining room. they came after something that i had!" "and what was that" asked desmond. then barbara told him of her talk with nur-el-din in the dancer's dressing-room on the previous evening and of the package which nur-el-din had entrusted to her care. "this terrible business put it completely out of my head," said barbara. "in the presence of the police this morning, i looked over my bedroom and even searched my hand-bag which the police sent back to me this afternoon without finding that the burglars had stolen anything. it was only just now, when we were talking about our meeting in nur-el-din's room last night, that her little package suddenly flashed across my mind. and then i looked through my handbag again and convinced myself that it was not there." "but are you sure the police haven't taken it?" "absolutely certain," was the reply. "i remember perfectly what was in my hand-bag this morning when i went through it, and the same things are on that table over there now." "do you know what was in this package!" said desmond. "just a small silver box, oblong and quite plain, about so big," she indicated the size with her hands, "about as large as a cigarette-box. nur-el-din said it was a treasured family possession of hers, and she was afraid of losing it as she traveled about so much. she asked me to say nothing about it and to keep it until the war was over or until she asked me for it." "then," said desmond, "this clears nur-el-din!" "what do you mean," said barbara, looking up. "simply that she wouldn't have broken into your place and killed your father in order to recover her own package..." "but why on earth should nur-el-din be suspected of such a thing?" "have you heard nothing about this young lady from the chief?" "nothing. i had not thought anything about her until daddy discovered an old friend in her last night and introduced me." the chief's infernal caution again! thought desmond, secretly admiring the care with which that remarkable man, in his own phrase, "sealed both ends of every connection." "if i'm to work with this girl," said desmond to himself, "i'm going to have all the cards on the table here and now," so forthwith he told her of the chief's suspicions of the dancer, the letter recommending her to bellward found when the cheese merchant had been arrested, and lastly of the black hair which had been discovered on the thongs with which barbara had been fastened. "and now," desmond concluded, "the very next thing we must do is to go to the chief and tell him about this package of nur-el-din's that is missing." barbara interposed quickly. "it's no use your coming," she said. "the chief won't see you. when he has sent a man on his mission, he refuses to see him again until the work has been done. if he wishes to send for you or communicate with you, he will. but it's useless for you to try and see him yourself. you can drop me at the office!" desmond was inclined to agree with her on this point and said so. "there is one thing especially that puzzles me, miss mackwayte," desmond observed as they drove westward again, "and that is, how anyone could have known about your having this box of nur-el-din's. was there anybody else in the room when she gave you the package?" "no," said barbara, "i don't think so. wait a minute, though, nur-el-din's maid must have come in very shortly after for i remember the opened the door when captain strangwise came to tell me daddy was waiting to take me home." "do you remember if nur-el-din actually mentioned the package in the presence of the maid!" "as far as i can recollect just as the maid opened the door to captain strangwise, nur-el-din was impressing on me again to take great care of the package. i don't think she actually mentioned the box but i remember her pointing at my bag where i had put the package." "the maid didn't see nur-el-din give you the box?" "no, i'm sure of that. the room was empty save for us two. it was only just before captain strangwise knocked that i noticed marie arranging nur-el-din's dresses. she must have come in afterwards without my seeing her." "well then, this girl, marie, didn't see the dancer give you the box but she heard her refer to it. is that right?" "yes, and, of course, captain strangwise..." "what about him?" "he must have heard what nur-el-din was saying, too!" desmond rubbed his chin. "i say, you aren't going to implicate old strangwise, too, are you?" he asked. barbara did not reflect his smile. "he seems to know nur-el-din pretty well," she said, "and i'll tell you something else, that woman's afraid of your friend, the captain!" "what do you mean?" asked desmond. "i was watching her in the glass last night as he was talking to her while you and i and daddy were chatting in the corner. i don't know what he said to her, but she glanced over her shoulder with a look of terror in her eyes. i was watching her face in the glass. she looked positively hunted!" the taxi stopped. desmond jumped out and helped his companion to alight. "au revoir." she said to him, "never fear, you and i will meet very soon again!" with that she was gone. desmond looked at his watch. it pointed to a quarter to six. "now i wonder what time the leave-train starts tonight," he said aloud, one foot on the sideboard of the taxi. "at . , sir," said a voice. "desmond glanced round him. then he saw it was the taxi-driver who had spoken. " . , eh?" said desmond. "from victoria, i suppose?" "yes, sir," said the taxi-man. "by jove, i haven't much time," ejaculated the officer "and there are some things i want to get before i go back across the channel. and i shall have to see the railway transport officer about my pass." "that's all right, sir," said the taxi-man, "i have your papers here"; he handed desmond a couple of slips of paper which he took from his coat-pocket; "those will take you back to france all right, i think you'll find!" desmond looked at the papers: they were quite in order and correctly filled up with his name, rank and regiment, and date. the taxi-man cut short any further question by saying: "if you'll get into the cab again, sir, i'll drive you where you want to go, and then wait while you have your dinner and take you to the station. by the way, your dinner's ordered too!" "but who the devil are you?" asked desmond in amazement. "on special service, the same as you, sir!" said the man with a grin and desmond understood. really, the chief was extremely thorough. they went to the stores in the haymarket, to fortnum and mason's, and lastly, to a small, grubby shop at the back of mayfair where desmond and his brother had bought their cigarettes for years past. desmond purchased a hundred of their favored brand, the dionysus, as a reserve for his journey back to france, and stood chatting over old times with the fat, oily-faced greek manager as the latter tied up his cigarettes into a clean white paper parcel, neatly sealed up with red sealing wax. then desmond drove back to the nineveh hotel where he left his taxi-driving colleague in the courtyard on the understanding that at . the taxi would be waiting to drive him to the station. desmond went straight upstairs to his room to put his kit together. in the strong, firmly woven web spread by the chief, he felt as helpless as a fly caught in a spider's mesh. he had no idea of what his plans were. he only knew that he was going back to france, and that it was his business to get on the leave-boat that night. as he passed along the thickly carpeted, silent corridor to his room, he saw the door of strangwise's room standing ajar. he pushed open the door and walked in unceremoniously. a suitcase stood open on the floor with strangwise bending over it. at his elbow was a table crowded with various parcels, a case of razors, different articles of kit, and some books. desmond halted at the door, his box of cigarettes dangling from his finger. "hullo, maurice," he said, "are you off, too?" strangwise spun round sharply. the blood had rushed to his face, staining it with a dark, angry flush. "my god, how you startled me!" he exclaimed rather testily. "i never heard you come in!" he turned rather abruptly and went on with his packing. he struck desmond as being rather annoyed at the intrusion; the latter had never seen him out of temper before. "sorry if i butted in," said desmond, sliding his box of cigarettes off his finger on to the littered table and sitting down on a chair. "i came in to say good-bye. i'm going back to france to-night!" maurice looked round quickly. he appeared to be quite his old self again and was all smiles now. "so soon?" he said. "why, i thought you were getting a job at the war office!" desmond shook his head. "not good enough," he replied, "it's back to the sandbags for mine. but where are you off to?" "got a bit of leave; the intelligence folk seem to be through with me at last, so they've given me six weeks!" "going to the country" asked desmond. strangwise nodded. "yep," he said, "down to essex to see if i can get a few duck or snipe on the fens. i wish you were coming with me!" "so do i, old man," echoed desmond heartily. then he added in a serious voice: "by the way, i haven't seen you since last night. what a shocking affair this is about old mackwayte, isn't it? are there any developments, do you know?" strangwise very deliberately fished a cigarette out of his case which was lying open on the table and lit it before replying. "a very dark affair," he said, blowing out a cloud of smoke and flicking the match into the grate. "you are discreet, i know, okewood. the intelligence people had me up this morning... to take my evidence..." strangwise's surmise about desmond's discretion was perfectly correct. with desmond okewood discretion was second nature, and therefore he answered with feigned surprise: "your evidence about what? about our meeting the mackwaytes last night?" after he had spoken he realized he had blundered. surely, after all, the chief would have told strangwise about their investigations at seven kings. still... "no," replied strangwise, "but about nur-el-din!" the chief had kept his own counsel about their morning's work. desmond was glad now that he had dissimulated. "you see, i know her pretty well," strangwise continued, "between ourselves, i got rather struck on the lady when she was touring in canada some years ago, and in fact i spent so much more money than i could afford on her that i had to discontinue the acquaintance. then i met her here when i got away from germany a month ago; she was lonely, so i took her about a bit. okewood, i'm afraid i was rather indiscreet." "how do you mean?" desmond asked innocently. "well," said strangwise slowly, contemplating the end of his cigarette, "it appears that the lady is involved in certain activities which considerably interest our intelligence. but there, i mustn't say any more!" "but how on earth is nur-el-what's her name concerned in this murder, maurice?" strangwise shrugged his shoulders. "ah, you'd better ask the police. but i tell you she'll be getting into trouble if she's not careful!" throughout this conversation desmond seemed to hear in his ears barbara's words: "that woman's afraid of your friend!" he divined that for some reason or other, strangwise wanted to create a bad impression in his mind about the dancer. he scanned maurice's face narrowly. its impenetrability was absolute. there was nothing to be gleaned from those careless, smiling features. "well," said desmond, getting up, "nous verrons. i shall have to make a bolt for it now if i don't want to miss my train. good-bye, maurice, and i hope you'll get some birds!" "thanks, old man. au revoir, and take care of yourself. my salaams to the general!". they shook hands warmly, then desmond grabbed his box of cigarettes in its neat white wrapper with the bold red seals and hurried off to his room. strangwise stood for a moment gazing after him. he was no longer the frank, smiling companion of a minute before. his mouth was set hard and his chin stuck out at a defiant angle. he bent over the table and picked up a white paper package sealed with bold red seals. he poised it for a moment in his hands while a flicker of a smile stole into the narrow eyes and played for an instant round the thin lips. then, with a quick movement, he thrust the little package into the side pocket of his tunic and buttoned the flap. whistling a little tune, he went on with his packing. chapter ix. metamorphosis it was a clear, cold night. a knife-edge icy wind blew from the north-east and kept the lanyards dismally flapping on the flag-mast over the customs house. the leave train lay in the station within a biscuit's throw of the quayside and the black, blank channel beyond, a long line of cheerfully illuminated windows that to those returning from leave seemed as the last link with home. the corporal of military police, who stood at the gangway examining the passes, stopped desmond okewood as the latter held out his pass into the rays of the man's lantern. "there was a message for you, sir," said the corporal. "the captain of the staff boat would h-esteem it a favor, sir, if you would kindly go to his cabin immediately on h-arriving on board, sir!" "very good, corporal!" answered the officer and passed up the gang plank, enviously regarded by the press of brass-hats and red-tabs who, for the most part, had a cramped berth below or cold quarters on deck to look forward to. a seaman directed desmond to the captain's cabin. it was built out just behind the bridge, a snug, cheery room with bright chintz curtains over the carefully screened portholes, a couple of comfortable benches with leather seats along the walls, a small bunk, and in the middle of the floor a table set out with a bottle of whiskey, a siphon and some glasses together with a box of cigars. the captain was sitting there chatting to the pilot, a short, enormously broad man with a magenta face and prodigious hands which were folded round a smoking glass of toddy. "pick 'em up? rescue 'em?" the pilot ejaculated, as desmond walked in, "i'd let 'em sink, every man jack o' them, the outrageous murderin' scoundrels. i don't like to hear you a-talking of such nonsense, cap'en!" on desmond's entrance the captain broke off the conversation. he proved to be a trimly-built man of about fifty with a grizzled beard, and an air of quiet efficiency which is not uncommonly found in seamen. the pilot drained his glass and, scrambling to his feet, nodded to desmond and stumped out into the cold night air. "jawin' about the u boats!" said the captain, with a jerk of his head towards the cabin door, "i don't know what the feelings of your men in the trenches are towards fritz, major, but i tell you that no german will dare set foot in any coast port of the united kingdom in my life-time or yours, either! accommodation's a bit narrow on board. i thought maybe you'd care to spend the night up here!" "any orders about me?" asked desmond. the captain went a shade deeper mahogany in the face. "oh no," he replied, with an elaborate assumption of innocence. "but won't you mix yourself a drink? and try one of my cigars, a present from a skipper friend of mine who sailed into tilbury from manila last week." desmond sat in the snug cabin, puffing a most excellent cigar and sipping his whiskey and soda while, amid much shouting of seamen and screaming of windlasses, the staff boat got clear. presently they were gliding past long low moles and black, inhospitable lighthouses, threading their way through the dark shapes of war craft of all kinds into the open channel. there was a good deal of swell, but the sea was calm, and the vessel soon steadied down to regular rise and fall. they had been steaming for nearly an hour when, through the open door of the cabin, desmond saw a seaman approach the captain on the bridge. he handed the skipper a folded paper. "from the wireless operator, sir!" desmond heard him say. the skipper scanned it. then the engine telegraph rang sharply, there was the sound of churning water, and the vessel slowed down. the next moment the captain appeared at the door of the cabin. "i'm afraid we're going to lose you, major," he said pleasantly, "a destroyer is coming up to take you off. there was a wireless from the admiral about you." "where are they going to take me, do you know?" asked desmond. the captain shook his head. "i haven't an idea. i've only got to hand you over!" he grinned and added: "where's your kit?" "in the hold, i expect!" answered desmond. "the porter at victoria told me not to worry about it, and that i should find it on the other side. and, oh damn it!--i've got a hundred cigarettes in my kit, too! i bought them specially for the journey!" "well, take some of my cigars," said the skipper hospitably, "for your traps'll have to go to france this trip, major. there's no time to get 'em up now. i'll pass the word to the military landing officer over there about 'em, if you like. he'll take care of 'em for you. now will you come with me?" desmond scrambled into his coat and followed the captain down the steps to the deck. a little distance away from the vessel, the long shape of a destroyer was dimly visible tossing to and fro in the heavy swell. a ladder had been let down over the side of the steamer, and at its foot a boat, manned by a number of heavily swathed and muffled forms, was pitching. a few officers stood by the rail watching the scene with interest. the skipper adroitly piloted desmond past them and fairly thrust him out on to the ladder. desmond took the hint and with a hasty "good night" to the friendly captain, staggered down the swaying ladder and was helped into the boat. the boat shoved off, the bell of the engine telegraph on the steamer resounded sharply, and the vessel resumed her interrupted voyage whilst the rowing boat was headed towards the destroyer. on board the latter vessel an officer met desmond at the rail and piloted him to the ward-room. almost before they got there, the destroyer was under way. the officer who had welcomed him proved to be the second in command, a joyous person who did the honors of the tiny ward-room with the aplomb of a commander in a super-dreadnought. he mixed desmond a drink and immediately started to converse about life at the front without giving the other a chance of asking whither they were bound. the suspense was not of long duration, however, for in about half an hour's time, the destroyer slowed down and desmond's host vanished. when he reappeared, it was to summon desmond on deck. they lay aside a mole by some steps cut in the solid concrete. here desmond's host took leave of him. "there should be a car waiting for you up there," he said. there on top of the mole, exposed to the keen blast of the wind, a large limousine was standing. a chauffeur, who looked blue with cold, got down from his seat as desmond emerged from the stairs and touched his cap. "major okewood?" he asked. "that's my name!" said desmond. "if you'll get in, sir, we'll start at once!" the man replied. befogged and bewildered, desmond entered the car, which cautiously proceeded along the breakwater, with glimpses of black water and an occasional dim light on either hand. they bumped over the railway-lines and rough cobblestones of a dockyard, glided through a slumbering town, and so gradually drew out into the open country where the car gathered speed and fairly raced along the white, winding road. desmond had not the faintest idea of their whereabouts or ultimate destination. he was fairly embarked on the great adventure now, and he was philosophically content to let fate have its way with him. he found himself wondering rather indolently what the future had in store. the car slowed down and the chauffeur switched the headlights on. their blinding glare revealed some white gate-posts at the entrance of a quiet country station. desmond looked at his watch. it was half-past one. the car stopped at the entrance to the booking-office where a man in an overcoat and bowler was waiting. "this way, major, please," said the man in the bowler, and led the way into the dark and silent station. at the platform a short train consisting of an engine, a pullman car and a brakesman's van stood, the engine under steam. by the glare from the furnace desmond recognized his companion. it was matthews, the chief's confidential clerk. matthews held open the door of the pullman for desmond and followed him into the carriage. a gruff voice in the night shouted: "all right, charley!" a light was waved to and fro, and the special pulled out of the echoing station into the darkness beyond. in the corner of, the pullman a table was laid for supper. there was a cold chicken, a salad, and a bottle of claret. on another table was a large tin box and a mirror with a couple of electric lights before it. at this table was seated a small man with gray hair studying a large number of photographs. "if you will have your supper, major okewood, sir," said matthews, "mr. crook here will get to work. we've not got too much time." the sea air had made desmond ravenously hungry. he sat down promptly and proceeded to demolish the chicken and make havoc of the salad. also he did full justice to the very excellent st. estephe. as he ate he studied matthews, who was one of those undefinable englishmen one meets in tubes and 'buses, who might be anything from a rate collector to a rat catcher. he had sandy hair plastered limply across his forehead, a small moustache, and a pair of watery blue eyes. mr. crook, who continued his study of his assortment of photographs without taking the slightest notice of desmond, was a much more alert looking individual, with a shock of iron gray hair brushed back and a small pointed beard. "matthew's," said desmond as he supped, "would it be indiscreet to ask where we are?" "in kent, major," replied matthews. "what station was that we started from?" "faversham." "and where are we going, might i inquire?" "to cannon street, sir!" "and from there?" mr. matthews coughed discreetly. "i can't really say, sir, i'm sure! a car will meet you there and i can go home to bed." the ends sealed again! thought desmond. what a man of caution, the chief! "and this gentleman here, matthews?" asked desmond, lighting one of the skipper's cigars. "that, sir, is mr. crook, who does any little jobs we require in the way of make-up. our expert on resemblances, if i may put it that way, sir, for we really do very little in the way of disguises. mr. crook is an observer of what i may call people's points, sir, their facial appearance, their little peculiarities of manner, of speech, of gait. whenever there is any question of a disguise, mr. crook is called in to advise as to the possibilities of success. i believe i am correct in saying, crook, that you have been engaged on the major here for some time. isn't it so?" crook looked up a minute from his table. "that's right," he said shortly, and resumed his occupation of examining the photographs. "and what's your opinion about this disguise of mine?" desmond asked him. "i can make a good job of you, major," said the expert, "and so i reported to the chief. you'll want to do your hair a bit different and let your beard grow, and then, if you pay attention to the lessons i shall give you, in a week or two, you'll be this chap here," and he tapped the photograph in his hand, "to the life." so saying he handed desmond the photograph. it was the portrait of a man about forty years of age, of rather a pronounced continental type, with a short brown beard, a straight, rather well-shaped nose and gold-rimmed spectacles. his hair was cut en brosse, and he was rather full about the throat and neck. without a word, desmond stretched out his hand and gathered up a sheaf of other photos, police photos of mr. basil bellward, front face and profile seen from right and left, all these poses shown on the same picture, some snapshots and various camera studies. desmond shook his head in despair. he was utterly unable to detect the slightest resemblance between himself and this rather commonplace looking type of business man. "now if you'd just step into the compartment at the end of the pullman, major," said crook, "you'll find some civilian clothes laid out. would you mind putting them on? you needn't trouble about the collar and tie, or coat and waistcoat for the moment. then we'll get along with the work." the train rushed swaying on through the darkness. desmond was back in the pullman car in a few minutes arrayed in a pair of dark gray tweed trousers, a white shirt and black boots and socks. a cut-away coat and waistcoat of the same tweed stuff, a black bowler hat of rather an old-fashioned and staid pattern, and a black overcoat with a velvet collar, he left in the compartment where he changed. he found that crook had opened his tin box and set out a great array of grease paints, wigs, twists of tow of various colors, and a number of pots and phials of washes and unguents together with a whole battery of fine paint brushes. in his hand he held a pair of barber's clippers and the tips of a comb and a pair of scissors protruded from his vest pocket. crook whisked a barber's wrap round desmond and proceeded, with clippers and scissors, to crop and trim his crisp black hair. "tst-tst" he clicked with his tongue. "i didn't realize your hair was so dark, major. it'll want a dash of henna to lighten it." the man worked with incredible swiftness. his touch was light and sure, and desmond, looking at his reflection in the glass, wondered to see what fine; delicate hands this odd little expert possessed. matthews sat and smoked in silence and watched the operation, whilst the special ran on steadily londonwards. when the clipping was done, crook smeared some stuff on a towel and wrapped it round desmond's head. "that'll brighten your hair up a lot, sir. now for a crepe beard just to try the effect. we've got to deliver you at cannon street ready for the job, mr. matthews and me, but you won't want to worry with this nasty messy beard once you get indoors. you can grow your own beard, and i'll pop in and henna it a bit for you every now and then." there was the smart of spirit gum on desmond's cheeks and crook gently applied a strip of tow to his face. he had taken the mirror away so that desmond could no longer see the effect of the gradual metamorphosis. "a mirror only confuses me," said the expert, breathing hard as he delicately adjusted the false beard, "i've got this picture firm in my head, and i want to get it transferred to your face. somehow a mirror puts me right off. it's the reality i want." as he grew more absorbed in his work, he ceased to speak altogether. he finished the beard, trimmed the eyebrows, applied a dash of henna with a brush, leaning backwards continually to survey the effect. he sketched in a wrinkle or two round the eyes with a pencil, wiped them out, then put them in again. then he fumbled in his tin box, and produced two thin slices of grey rubber. "sorry," he said, "i'm afraid you'll have to wear these inside your cheeks to give the effect of roundness. you've got an oval face and the other man has a round one. i can get the fullness of the throat by giving you a very low collar, rather open and a size too large for you." desmond obediently slipped the two slices of rubber into his mouth and tucked them away on either side of his upper row of teeth. they were not particularly uncomfortable to wear. "there's your specs," said crook, handing him a spectacle case, "and there's the collar. now if you'll put on the rest of the duds, we'll have a look at you, sir." desmond went out and donned the vest and coat and overcoat, and, thus arrayed, returned to the pullman, hat in hand. crook called out to him as he entered "not so springy in the step, sir, if you please. remember you're forty-three years of age with a continental upbringing. you'll have to walk like a german, toes well turned out and down on the heel every time. so, that's better. now, have a look at yourself!" he turned and touched a blind. a curtain rolled up with a click, disclosing a full length mirror immediately opposite desmond. desmond recoiled in astonishment. he could scarcely credit his own eyes. the glass must be bewitched, he thought for a moment, quite overwhelmed by the suddenness of the shock. for instead of the young face set on a slight athletic body that the glass was wont to show him, he saw a square, rather solid man in ugly, heavy clothes, with a brown silky beard and gold spectacles. the disguise was baffling in its completeness. the little wizard, who had effected this change and who now stood by, bashfully twisting his fingers about, had transformed youth into middle age. and the bewildering thing was that the success of the disguise did not lie so much in the external adjuncts, the false beard, the pencilled wrinkles, as in the hideous collar, the thick padded clothes, in short, in the general appearance. for the first time since his talk with the chief at the united service club, desmond felt his heart grow light within him. if such miracles were possible, then he could surmount the other difficulties as well. "crook," he said, "i think you've done wonders. what do you say, matthews?" "i've seen a lot of mr. crook's work in my day, sir," answered the clerk, "but nothing better than this. it's a masterpiece, crook, that's what it is." "i'm fairly well satisfied," the expert murmured modestly, "and i must say the major carries it off very well. but how goes the enemy, matthews?" "it's half past two," replied, the latter, "we should reach cannon street by three. she's running well up to time, i think." "we've got time for a bit of a rehearsal," said crook. "just watch me, will you please, major, and i'll try and give you an impression of our friend. i've been studying him at brixton for the past twelve days, day and night almost, you might say, and i think i can convey an idea of his manner and walk. the walk is a very important point. now, here is mr. bellward meeting one of his friends. mr. matthews, you will be the friend!" then followed one of the most extraordinary performances that desmond had ever witnessed. by some trick of the actor's art, the shriveled figure of the expert seemed to swell out and thicken, while his low, gentle voice deepened into a full, metallic baritone. of accent in his speech there was none, but desmond's ear, trained to foreigners' english, could detect a slight continental intonation, a little roll of the "r's," an unfamiliar sound about those open "o's" of the english tongue, which are so fatal a trap for foreigners speaking our language. as he watched crook, desmond glanced from time to time at the photograph of bellward which he had picked up from the table. he had an intuition that bellward behaved and spoke just as the man before him. then, at crook's suggestion, desmond assumed the role of bellward. the expert interrupted him continually. "the hands, major, the hands, you must not keep them down at your sides. that is military! you must move them when you speak! so and so!" or again: "you speak too fast. too... too youthfully, if you understand me, sir. you are a man of middle age. life has no further secrets for you. you are poised and getting a trifle ponderous. now try again!" but the train was slackening speed. they were running between black masses of squalid houses. as the special thumped over the bridge across the river, mr. crook gathered up his paints and brushes and photographs and arranged them neatly in his black tin box. to desmond he said: "i shall be coming along to give you some more lessons very soon, major. i wish you could see bellward for yourself: you are very apt at this game, and it would save us much time. but i fear that's impossible." even before the special had drawn up alongside the platform at cannon street, crook and matthews swung themselves out and disappeared. when the train stopped, a young man in a bowler hat presented himself at the door of the pullman. "the car is there, mr. bellward, sir!" he said, helping desmond to alight. desmond, preparing to assume his new role, was about to leave the carriage when a sudden thought struck him. what about his uniform strewn about the compartment where he had changed? he ran back. the compartment was empty. not a trace remained of the remarkable scenes of their night journey. "this is for you," said the young man, handing desmond a note as they walked down the platform. outside the station a motor-car with its noisy throbbing awoke the echoes of the darkened and empty courtyard. desmond waited until he was being whirled over the smooth asphalt of the city streets before he opened the letter. he found a note and a small key inside the envelope. "on reaching the house to which you will be conveyed," the note said, "you will remain indoors until further orders. you can devote your time to studying the papers you will find in the desk beside the bed. for the present you need not fear detection as long as you do not leave the house." then followed a few rough jottings obviously for his guidance. "housekeeper, martha, half blind, stupid; odd man, john hill, mostly invisible, no risk from either. you are confined to house with heavy chill. do not go out until you get the word." the last sentence was twice underlined. the night was now pitch-dark. heavy clouds had come up and obscured the stars and a drizzle of rain was falling. the car went forward at a good pace and desmond, after one or two ineffectual attempts to make out where they were going, was lulled by the steady motion into a deep sleep. he was dreaming fitfully of the tossing channel as he had seen it but a few hours before when he came to his senses with a start. he felt a cold draught of air on his face and his feet were dead with cold. a figure stood at the open door of the car. it was the chauffeur. "here we are, sir," he said. desmond stiffly descended to the ground. it was so dark that he could distinguish nothing, but he felt the grit of gravel under his feet and he heard the melancholy gurgle of running water. he took a step forward and groped his way into a little porch smelling horribly of mustiness and damp. as he did so, he heard a whirr behind him and the car began to glide off. desmond shouted after the chauffeur. now that he stood on the very threshold of his adventure, he wanted to cling desperately to this last link with his old self. but the chauffeur did not or would not hear, and presently the sound of the engine died away, leaving desmond to the darkness, the sad splashing of distant water and his own thoughts. and then, for one brief moment, all his courage seemed to ooze out of him. if he had followed his instinct, he would have turned and fled into the night, away from that damp and silent house, away from the ceaseless splashing of waters, back to the warmth and lights of civilization. but his sense of humor, which is very often better than courage, came to his rescue. "i suppose i ought to be in the devil of a rage," he said to himself, "being kept waiting like this outside my own house! where the deuce is my housekeeper? by gad, i'll ring the place down!" the conceit amused him, and he advanced further into the musty porch hoping to find a bell. but as he did so his ear caught the distant sound of shuffling feet. the shuffle of feet drew nearer and presently a beam of light shone out from under the door. a quavering voice called out: "here i am, mr. bellward, here i am, sir!" then a bolt was drawn back, a key turned, and the door swung slowly back, revealing an old woman, swathed in a long shawl and holding high in her hand a lamp as she peered out into the darkness. "good evening, martha," said desmond, and stepped into the house. save for martha's lamp, the lobby was in darkness, but light was streaming into the hall from the half open door of a room leading off it at the far end. while martha, wheezing asthmatically, bolted the front door, desmond went towards the room where the light was and walked in. it was a small sitting-room, lined with bookshelves, illuminated by an oil lamp which stood on a little table beside a chintz-covered settee which had been drawn up in front of the dying fire. on the settee nur-el-din was lying asleep. chapter x. d. o. r. a. is baffled when barbara reached the chief's ante-room she found it full of people. mr. marigold was there, chatting with captain strangwise who seemed to be just taking his leave; there was a short, fat, jewish-looking man, very resplendently dressed with a large diamond pin in his cravat and a small, insignificant looking gentleman with a gray moustache and the red rosette of the legion of honor in his button-hole. matthews came out of the chief's room as barbara entered the outer office. "miss mackwayte," he said, "we are all so shocked and so very, sorry..." "mr. matthews," she said hastily in a low voice, "never mind about that now. i must see the chief at once. it is most urgent." matthews gesticulated with his arm round the room. "all these people, excepting the officer there, are waiting to see him, miss, and he's got a dinner engagement at eight..." "it is urgent, mr. matthews, i tell you. if you won't take my name in, i shall go in myself!" "miss mackwayte, i daren't interrupt him now. do you know who's with him...?" strangwise crossed the room to where barbara was standing. "i can guess what brings you here, miss mackwayte," he said gently. "i hope you will allow me to express my condolences...?" the girl shrank back, almost imperceptibly, yet strangwise, whose eyes were fixed on her pale face, noticed the spontaneous recoil. the sunshine seemed to fade out of his debonair countenance, and for a moment barbara mackwayte saw maurice strangwise as very few people had ever seen him, stern and cold and hard, without a vestige of his constant smile. but the shadow lifted as quickly as it had fallen. his face had resumed its habitually engaging expression as he murmured: "believe me, i am truly sorry for you!" "thank you, thank you!" barbara said hastily and brushed past him. she walked straight across the room to the door of the chief's room, turned the handle and walked in. the room was in darkness save for an electric reading lamp on the desk which threw a beam of light on the faces of two men thrust close together in eager conversation. one was the chief, the other a face that barbara knew well from the illustrated papers. at the sound of the door opening, the chief sprang to his feet. "oh, it's miss mackwayte," he said, and added something in a low voice to the other man who had risen to his feet. "my dear," he continued aloud to barbara, "i will see you immediately; we must not be disturbed now. matthews should have told you." "chief," cried barbara, her hands clasped convulsively together, "you must hear me now. what i have to say cannot wait. oh, you must hear me!" the chief looked as embarrassed as a man usually looks when he is appealed to in a busy moment by an extremely attractive girl. "miss mackwayte," he said firmly but with great courtesy, "you must wait outside. i know how unnerved you are by all that you have gone through, but i am engaged just now. i shall be free presently." "it is about my father, chief," barbara said in a trembling voice, "i have found out what they came to get!" "ah!" said the chief and the other man simultaneously. "we had better hear what she has to say!" said the other man, "but won't you introduce me first?" "this is sir bristowe marr, the first sea lord," said the chief, bringing up a chair for barbara, "miss mackwayte, my secretary, admiral!" then in a low impassioned voice barbara told her tale of the package entrusted to her by nur-el-din and its disappearance from her bedroom on the night of the murder. as she proceeded a deep furrow appeared between the chief's bushy eyebrows and he stared absently at the blotting-pad in front of him. when the girl had finished her story, the chief said: "lambelet ought to hear this, sir: he's the head of the french intelligence, you know. he's outside now. shall we have him in? miss mackwayte shall tell her story, and you can then hear what lambelet has to say about this versatile young dancer." without waiting for further permission, he pressed a bell on the desk and presently matthews ushered in the small man with the legion of honor whom barbara had seen in the ante-room. the chief introduced the frenchman and in a few words explained the situation to him. then he turned to barbara: "colonel lambelet speaks english perfectly," he said, "so fire away and don't be nervous!" when she had finished, the chief said, addressing lambelet: "what do you make of it, colonel?" the little frenchman made an expressive gesture. "madame has become aware of the interest you have been taking in her movements, mon cher. she seized the opportunity of this meeting with the daughter of her old friend to get rid of something compromising, a code or something of the kind, qui sait? perhaps this robbery and its attendant murder was only an elaborate device to pass on some particularly important report of the movements of your ships... qui sait?" "then you are convinced in your own mind, colonel, that this woman is a spy?" the clear-cut voice of the first sea lord rang out of the darkness of the room outside the circle of light on the desk. "mais certainement!" replied the frenchman quietly. "listen and you shall hear! by birth she is a pole, from warsaw, of good, perhaps, even, of noble family. i cannot tell you, for her real name we have not been able to ascertain... parbleu, it is impossible, with the boches at warsaw, hein? we know, however, that at a very early age, under the name of la petite marcelle, she was a member of a troupe of acrobats who called themselves the seven duponts. with this troupe she toured all over europe. bien! about ten years ago, she went out to new york as a singer, under the name of marcelle blondinet, and appeared at various second-class theatres in the united states and canada. then we lose track of her for some years until , the year before the war, when the famous oriental dancer, nur-el-din, who has made a grand success by the splendor of her dresses in america and canada, appears at brussels, scores a triumph and buys a fine mansion in the outskirts of the capital. she produces herself at paris, bordeaux, lyons, marseilles, madrid, milan and rome, but her home in brussels, always she returns there, your understand me, hein? la petite marcelle of the seven duponts, marcelle blondinet of the cafe chantant, has blossomed out into a star of the first importance." the colonel paused and cleared his throat. "to buy a mansion in brussels, to run a large and splendid troupe, requires money. it is the men who pay for these things, you would say. quite right, but listen who were the friends of madame nur-el-din. bischoffsberg, the german millionaire of antwerp, von wurzburg, of berne... ah ha! you know that gentleman, mon cher?" he turned, chuckling, to the chief who nodded his acquiescence; "prince meddelin of the german embassy in paris and administrator of the german secret service funds in france, and so on and so on. i will not fatigue you with the list. the direct evidence is coming now. "when the war broke out in august, , madame, after finishing her summer season in brussels, was resting in her brussels mansion. what becomes of her? she vanishes." "she told samuel, the fellow who runs the palaceum, that she escaped from brussels!" interposed the chief. the frenchman threw his hands above his head. "escaped, escaped? ah, oui, par exemple, in a german staff car. as i have told my colleague here," he went on, addressing the admiral, "she escaped to metz, the headquarters of the army group commanded by the... the... how do you say? the prince imperial?" "the crown prince," rectified the chief. "ah, oui,--the crown prince. messieurs, we have absolute testimony that this woman lived for nearly two years either in metz or berlin, and further, that at metz, the crown prince was a constant visitor at her house. she was one of the ladies who nearly precipitated a definite rupture between the crown prince and his wife. mon admiral," he went on, addressing the first sea lord again, "that this woman should be at large is a direct menace to the security of this country and of mine. it is only this morning that i at length received from paris the facts which i have just laid before you. it is for you to order your action accordingly!" the little frenchman folded his arms pompously and gazed at the ceiling. "how does she explain her movements prior to her coming to this country" the first sea lord asked the chief. for an answer the chief pressed the bell. "samuel, who engaged her, is outside. you shall hear her story from him," he said. samuel entered, exuding business acumen, prosperity, geniality. he nodded brightly to the chief and stood expectant. "ah, mr. samuel," said the chief, "i wanted to see you about nur-el-din. you remember our former conversation on the subject. where did she say she went to when she escaped to brussels?" "first to ostend," replied the music-hall proprietor, "and then, when the general exodus took place from there, to her mother's country place near lyons, a village called sermoise-aux-roses." "and what did she say her mother's name was?" "madame blondinet, sir!" the frenchman rapped smartly on a little pocketbook which he had produced and now held open in his hand. "there, is a madame blondinet who has a large farm near sermoise-aux-roses," he said, "and she has a daughter called marcelle, who went to america." "why then...?" began the first sea lord. "attendez un instant!" the colonel held up a plump hand. "unfortunately for madame nur-el-din, this marcelle blondinet spent the whole of her childhood, in fact, the whole of her life until she was nineteen years of age, on her mother's farm at a time when this marcelle blondinet was touring europe with the seven duponts. the evidence is absolute. mademoiselle here heard the dancer herself confirm it last night!" "thank you, mr. samuel," said the chief, "we shan't require you any more. but i'm afraid your nur-el-din will have to break her contract with you." "she's done that already, sir!" said samuel ruefully. the chief sprang to his feet excitedly. "broken it already?" he cried. "what do you mean? explain yourself! don't stand there staring at me!" mr. samuel looked startled out of his life. "there was a bit of a row between her and the stage manager last night about her keeping the stage waiting again," he said; "and after lunch today she rang up to say she would not appear at the palaceum to-night or any more at all! it's very upsetting for us; and i don't mind telling you, gentlemen, that i've been to my solicitors about it..." "and why the blazes didn't you come and tell me?" demanded the chief furiously. "well, sir, i thought it was only a bit of pique on her part, and i hoped to be able to talk the lady round. i know what these stars are!" "you've seen her then?" the chief snapped out. "no, i haven't!" mr. samuel lamented. "i've been twice to the nineveh--that's where she's stopping--and each time she was out!" the chief dismissed him curtly. when the door had closed behind him, the chief said to the first sea lord: "this is where d.o.r.a. steps in, i think, sir!" "decidedly!" replied the admiral. "will you take the necessary steps?" the chief nodded and pressed the bell. matthews appeared. "anything from the nineveh?" he asked. "the lady has not returned, sir!" "anything from gordon and duff?" "no, sir, nothing all day!" the telephone on the desk whirred. the chief lifted the receiver. "yes. oh, it's you, gordon? no, you can say it now: this is a private line." he listened at the receiver for a couple of minutes. the room was very still. "all right, come to the office at once!" the chief hung up the receiver and turned to the admiral. "she's given us the slip for the moment!" he said. "that was gordon speaking. he and duff have been shadowing our lady friend out of doors for days. she left the hotel on foot after lunch this afternoon with my two fellows in her wake. there was a bit of a crush on the pavement near charing cross and duff was pushed into the roadway and run over by a motor-'bus. in the confusion gordon lost the trail. he's wasted all this time trying to pick it up again instead of reporting to me at once." "zut!" cried the frenchman. chapter xi. credentials the sight of nur-el-din filled desmond with alarm. for a moment his mind was overshadowed by the dread of detection. he had forgotten all about mr. crook's handiwork in the train, and his immediate fear was that the dancer would awake and recognize him. but then he caught sight of his face in the mirror over the mantelpiece. the grave bearded man staring oddly at him out of the glass gave him a shock until he realized the metamorphosis that had taken place in his personality. the realization served instantly to still his apprehension. nur-el-din lay on her side, one hand under her face which was turned away from the fire. she was wearing a big black musquash coat, and over her feet she had flung a tweed overcoat, apparently one of mr. bellward's from the hatstand in the hall. her hat, a very dainty little affair of plain black velvet, was skewered with a couple of jewelled hatpins to the upholstery of the settee. desmond watched her for a moment. her face looked drawn and tired now that her eyelids, with their long sweeping black lashes, were closed, shutting off the extraordinary luminosity of her eyes. as he stood silently contemplating her, she stirred and moaned in her sleep and muttered some word three or four times to herself. desmond was conscious of a great feeling of compassion for this strangely beautiful creature. knowing as he did of the hundred-eyed monster of the british secret service that was watching her, he found himself thinking how frail, how helpless, how unprotected she looked, lying there in the flickering light of the fire. a step resounded behind him and old martha shuffled into the room, carefully shading the lamp she still carried so that its rays should not fall on the face of the sleeper. "i don't know as i've done right, sir," she mumbled, "letting the pore lady wait here for you like this, but i couldn't hardly help it, sir! she says as how she must see you, and seeing as how your first tellygram said you was coming at half-past nine, i lets her stop on!" "when did she arrive" asked desmond softly. "about six o'clock," answered the old, woman. "walked all the way up from wentfield station, too, sir, and that cold she was when she arrived here, fair blue with the cold she was, pore dear. d'reckly she open her lips, i sees she's a furrin' lady, sir. she asks after you and i tells her as how you are away and won't be back till this evening. 'oh!' she says, i then i wait!' and in she comes without so much as with your leave or by your leave. she told me as how you knew her, sir, and were expecting to see her, most important, she said it was, so i hots her up a bit o' dinner. i hopes as how i didn't do wrong, mr. bellward, sir!" "oh, no, martha, not at all!" desmond replied--at random. he was sorely perplexed as to his next move. obviously the girl could not stay in the house. what on earth did she want with him? and could he, at any rate, get at the desk and read the papers of which the note spoke and which, he did not doubt, were the dossier of the bellward case, before she awoke? they might, at least, throw some light on his relations with the dancer. "she had her dinner here by the fire," old martha resumed her narrative, "and about a quarter past nine comes your second tellygram, sir, saying as how you could not arrive till five o'clock in the morning." desmond glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. the hands pointed to a quarter past five! he had lost all count of the time in his peregrinations of the night. "i comes in here and tells the young lady as how you wouldn't be back last night, sir," the old woman continued, "and she says, 'oh,' she says, 'then, where shall i go?' she says. 'why don't you go home, my dear?' says i, 'and pop round and see the master in the morning,' i says, thinking the pore young lady lives about here. and then she tells me as how she come all the way from lunnon and walked up from the station. as well you know, sir, the last train up leaves wentfield station at five minutes to nine, and so the pore young lady couldn't get back that night. so here she had to stop. i got the spare room ready for her and lit a nice fire and all, but she wouldn't go to bed not until she had seen you. i do hope as how i've not done wrong, sir. i says to mr. hill, i says..." desmond held up his hand to restrain her toothless babble. nur-el-din had stirred and was sitting up, rubbing her eyes. then she caught sight of desmond and scrambled rather unsteadily to her feet. "monsieur bellward?" she said in french, "oh, how glad i am to see you!" "all right, martha," said desmond, "see that the spare room is ready for this lady, and don't go to bed just yet. i shall want you to take this lady to her room." the old woman hobbled away, leaving the two alone. as soon as the door had closed behind her, nur-el-din exclaimed: "you know me; hein!" desmond bowed in the most correct continental manner. "who does not know the charming nur-el-din?" he replied. "no!" nur-el-din commanded with flashing eyes, "no, not that name! i am madame le bon, you, understand, a belgian refugee, from termonde!" rather taken aback by her imperious manner, desmond bowed again but said nothing. "i received your letter," the dancer resumed, "but i did not answer it as i did not require your assistance. but now i wish your help. it is unfortunate that you were absent from home at the very time i counted upon your aid." she flashed a glance at him as though awaiting an apology. "i am extremely sorry," said desmond, "if i had but known..." nur-el-din nodded carelessly. "i wish to pass the night here," she went on, "in fact, i may be here for several days. they are becoming inconvenient in london, you understand." "but the theatre, your professional engagements?" "bah, i have left the theatre. i have had enough of these stupid english people... they know nothing of art!" desmond reflected a moment. nur-el-din's manner was most perplexing. what on earth could induce her to adopt this tone of condescension towards him? it nettled him. he resolved to try and find out on what it was based. "i am only too happy to be of assistance to you," he said, "especially in view of the letter of introduction you sent me, but i must tell you plainly that what you ask is impossible." "impossible?" repeated nur-el-din, stamping her feet. "impossible? do you know what you are saying?" "perfectly," replied desmond negligently. "obviously, you must stay here for the rest of the night since you cannot return to london until the trains start running, but to stay here indefinitely as you propose to do is out of the question. people would talk!" "then it is your business to see that they don't!" "your letter of introduction came from one whom i am always anxious to oblige," desmond went on. "but the service he is authorized to claim from me does not entitle him to jeopardize my other activities." he drew a breath. it was a long shot. would it draw her? it did. nur-el-din fumbled in her bag, produced a leather pocket-book and from it produced a slip of paper folded in two. "read that!" she cried, "and then you shall apologize!" desmond took the paper. it was a sheet torn from a book of german military field messages. "meldedienst" (message service) was printed in german at the top and there were blanks to be filled in for the date, hour and place, and at the bottom a printed form of acknowledgment for the recipient to sign. in a large ostentatious, upright german handwriting was written what follows: "to all whom it may concern. "the lady who is the bearer of this, whose description is set out overleaf, is entitled to the full respect and assistance of the german forces on land and sea and in the air, wherever it may be. her person and property are inviolate. "given at our headquarters at metz "friedrich wilhelm "kronprinz des "deutschen reiches." across the signature was the impress of a green stamp, lozenge-shaped, inscribed "headquarters of the fifth army, general staff, st september, ." on the back of the slip was a detailed description of nur-el-din. desmond bowed and handed the paper back to its owner. "madame must accept my humble excuses," he murmured, hardly knowing what he was saying, so great was his surprise, "my house and services are at madame's disposal!" "the other letter was from count plettenbach, the prince's a.d.c., whom i think you know!" added the dancer in a mollified voice as she replaced the slip of paper in its pocketbook and stowed it away in her hand-bag. then, looking up archly at desmond, she said: "am i so distasteful, then, to have in your house?" she made a charming picture. her heavy fur coat had fallen open, disclosing her full round throat, very brown against the v-shaped opening of her white silk blouse. her mouth was a perfect cupid's bow, the upper lip slightly drawn up over her dazzlingly white teeth. before desmond could answer her question, if answer were needed, her mood had swiftly changed again. she put her hand out, a little brown hand, and laying it on his shoulder, looked up appealingly into his eyes. "you will protect me," she said in a low voice, "i cannot bear this hunted life. from this side, from that, they, are closing in on me, and i am frightened, so very frightened. promise you will keep me from harm!" desmond gazed down into her warm, expressive eyes helplessly. what she asked was impossible, he knew, but he was a soldier, not a policeman, he told himself, and under his breath he cursed the chief for landing him in such a predicament. to nur-el-din he said gently: "tell me what has happened to frighten you. who is hunting you? is it the police?" she withdrew her hand with a gesture of contempt. "bah!" she said bitterly. "i am not afraid of the police." then she sank into a reverie, her gaze fixed on the dying embers of the fire. "all my life has been a struggle," she went on, after a moment, "first with hunger, then with men, then the police. i am used to a hard life. no, it is not the police!" "who is it, then" asked desmond, completely nonplused. nur-el-din let her eyes rest on his face for a moment. "you have honest eyes," she said, "your eyes are not german... pardon me, i would not insult your race... i mean they are different from the rest of you. one day, perhaps, those eyes of yours may persuade me to answer your question. but i don't know you well enough yet!" she broke off abruptly, shaking her head. "i am tired," she sighed and all her haughty manner returned, "let the old woman show me to my room. i will take dejeuner with you at one o'clock." desmond bowed and stepping out into the hall, called the housekeeper. old martha shuffled off with the girl, leaving desmond staring with vacant eyes into the fire. he was conscious of a feeling of exultation, despite his utter weariness and craving for sleep. this girl, with her queenly ways, her swiftly changing moods, her broad gusts of passion, interested him enormously. if she were the quarry, why, then, the chase were worth while! but the end? for a brief moment, he had a vision of that frail, clinging figure swaying up against some blank wall before a file of levelled rifles. then again he seemed to see old mackwayte lying dead on the landing of the house at seven kings. had this frail girl done this unspeakable deed? to send her to the gallows or before a firing-squad--was this to be the end of his mission? and the still, small voice of conscience answered: "yes! that is what you have come here to do!" old martha came shuffling down the staircase. desmond called to her, remembering that he did not yet know where his bedroom was. "will you light me up to my room, martha?" he said, "i want to be sure that the sheets are not damp!" so saying he extinguished the lamp on the table and followed the old woman upstairs. chapter xii. at the mill house clad in a suit of mr. basil bellward's pyjamas of elaborate blue-flowered silk, desmond lay propped up in bed in mr. bellward's luxuriously fitted bedroom, sipping his morning coffee, and studying with absorbed interest a sheet of blue foolscap. a number of papers lay strewn about the eiderdown quilt. at the head of the bed a handsome sheraton bureau stood open. as the french say, mr. bellward had refused himself nothing. his bedroom was most tastefully furnished. the furniture was mahogany, every piece carefully chosen, and the chintz of curtains and upholstery was bright and attractive. a most elaborate mahogany wardrobe was fitted into the wall, and desmond, investigating it, had found it to contain a very large assortment of clothes of every description, all new or nearly so, and bearing the name of a famous tailor of cork street. folding doors, resembling a cupboard, disclosed, when open, a marble basin with hot water laid on, while a curtained door in the corner of the room gave access to a white tiled bathroom. mr. bellward, desmond had reflected after his tour of the room on his arrival, evidently laid weight on his personal comfort; for the contrast between the cheerful comfort of his bedroom and the musty gloom of the rooms downstairs was very marked. a bright log fire hissed on the open hearth and the room was pleasantly warm. old martha's coffee was excellent, and desmond, very snug in mr. bellward's comfortable bed, noted with regret that the clock on the mantel-shelf marked a quarter to twelve. but then he thought of the tete-a-tete luncheon that awaited him at one o'clock and his face cleared. he didn't mind getting up so much after all. he fell again to the perusal of the documents which he had found, as indicated in the note from headquarters, in the desk by the bed. they were enclosed in two envelopes, one large, the other small, both without any superscription. the large envelope enclosed mr. bellward's dossier which consisted of a fairly detailed account of his private life, movements, habits and friends, and an account of his arrest. the small envelope contained desmond's eagerly expected orders. desmond examined the papers in the large envelope first. from them he ascertained that the house in which he found himself was called the mill house, and was situated two and a half miles from the station of wentfield on the great eastern railway in essex. mr. bellward had taken the place some eight years before, having moved there from the surrey hills, but had been wont to spend not more than two months in the year there. for the rest of the time he traveled abroad, usually passing the winter months on the riviera, and the spring in switzerland or italy. the war had brought about a change in his habits, and harrogate, buxton and bath had taken the place of the continental resorts which he had frequented in peace time. when in residence at the mill house, mr. bellward had gone up to london nearly every morning, either walking or going by motor-cycle to the station, and not returning until dinner-time in the evening. sometimes he passed the night in london, and on such occasions slept at a small hotel in jermyn street. his dossier included, a long and carefully compiled list of the people he knew in london, mostly men of the rich business set, stockbrokers, manufacturers, solicitors, and the like. against every name was set a note of the exact degree of intimacy existing between bellward and the man in question, and any other information that might serve bellward's impersonator in good stead. desmond laid this list aside for the moment, intending to study it more closely at his leisure. of intercourse with his neighbors in, the country, mr. bellward apparently had none. the mill house stood in a lonely part of the country, remote from the more thickly populated centres of brentwood and romford, on the edge of a wide tract of inhospitable marshland, known as morstead fen, intersected by those wide deep ditches which in this part of the world are known as dykes. at this stage in the report there was a note to the effect that the rector of wentfield had called twice at the mill house but had not found mr. bellward at home, and that his visits had not been returned. there were also some opinions apparently culled locally regarding the tenant of the mill house, set out something in this wise:-- "landlord of the red lion, wentfield: the gentleman has never been to the red lion, but sometimes orders my ford car and always pays regularly. "the stationmaster at wentfield: a gentleman who keeps himself to himself but very liberal with his money. "sir marsham dykes, of the chase, stanning: a damned unsociable churlish fellow. "mr. tracy wentfield, of the channings, home green: a very rude man. he slammed the front door of the house in my face when i went to ask him for a contribution to our cottage hospital. it is not my habit to repeat idle gossip, but they do say he is a heavy drinker." there was a lot more of this sort of thing, and desmond turned from it with a smile to take up the account of bellward's arrest. it appeared that, about a fortnight before, on the eve of the departure for france of a very large draft of troops, a telegram was handed in at the east strand telegraph office addressed to bellward. this telegram ran thus: "bellward, bellward hotel, jermyn street. "shipping to you friday , please advise correspondents. "mortimer." the authorities were unable to deliver this telegram as no such an hotel as the hotel bellward was found to exist in jermyn street. an examination of the address showed clearly that the sender had absent mindedly repeated the addressee's name in writing the name of the hotel. an advice was therefore addressed to the sender, mortimer, at the address he had given on the back of the form, according to the regulations, to inform him that his telegram had not been delivered. it was then discovered that the address given by mortimer was fictitious. suspicion being thus aroused, the telegram was forwarded to the postal censor's department whence it reached the intelligence authorities who promptly spotted the connection between the wording of the telegram and the imminent departure of the drafts, more especially as the dates tallied. thereupon, mr. bellward was hunted up and ultimately traced by his correspondence to the mill house. he was not found there, but was eventually encountered at his london hotel, and requested to appear before the authorities with a view to throwing some light on mortimer. under cross-examination bellward flatly denied any knowledge of mortimer, and declared that a mistake had been made. he cited various well known city men to speak for his bona-fides and protested violently against the action of the authorities in doubting his word. it was ultimately elicited that bellward was of german birth and had never been naturalized, and he was detained in custody while a search was made at the mill house. the search was conducted with great discretion, old martha being got out of the way before the detectives arrived and a careful watch being kept to avoid any chance of interruption. the search had the most fruitful results. hidden in a secret drawer of the sheraton desk in bellward's bedroom, was found a most elaborate analysis of the movements of the transports to france, extremely accurate and right up to date. there was absolutely no indication, however, as to whence bellward received his reports, and how or to whom he forwarded them. it was surmised that mortimer was his informant, but an exhaustive search of the post office files of telegrams despatched showed no trace of any other telegram from mortimer to bellward save the one in the possession of the authorities. as for mortimer, he remained a complete enigma. that, summarised, was the gist of the story of bellward's arrest. the report laid great stress on the fact that no one outside half a dozen intelligence men had any knowledge (a) of bellward being an unnaturalized german, (b) of his arrest. desmond's orders, which he reserved to the last were short and to the point. they consisted of five numbered clauses. " . you will have a free hand. the surveillance of the house was withdrawn on your arrival and will not be renewed. " . you will not leave the house until further orders. " . you will keep careful note of any communication that may be made to you, whether verbal or in writing, of whatever nature it is. when you have anything to be forwarded, ring up slanning on the telephone and give bellward's name. you will hand your report to the first person calling at the house thereafter asking for the letter for mr. elias. " . if help is urgently required, ring up stanning and ask for mr. elias. assistance will be with you within minutes after. this expedient must only be used in the last extremity. " . memorize these documents and burn the lot before you leave the house." "handy fellow, mr. elias," was desmond's commentary, as he sprang out of bed and made for the bathroom. at a quarter to one he was ready dressed, feeling very scratchy and uncomfortable about the beard which he had not dared to remove owing to nur-el-din's presence in the house. before he left the bedroom, he paused a moment at the desk, the documents of the bellward case in his hands. he had a singularly retentive memory, and he was loth to have these compromising papers in the house whilst nur-el-din was there. he took a quick decision and pitched the whole lot into the fire, retaining only the annotated list of mr. bellward's friends. this he placed in his pocket-book and, after watching the rest of the papers crumble away into ashes, went downstairs to lunch. nur-el-din was in the drawing-room, a long room with two high windows which gave on a neglected looking garden. a foaming, churning brook wound its way through the garden, among stunted bushes and dripping willows, obviously the mill-race from which the house took its name. the drawing-room was a bare, inhospitable room, studded here and there with uncomfortable looking early victorian armchairs swathed in dust-proof cloths. a fire was making an unsuccessful attempt to burn in the open grate. nur-el-din turned as he entered the room. she was wearing a gray cloth tailor-made with a white silk, blouse and a short skirt showing a pair of very natty brown boots. by contrast with her ugly surroundings she looked fresh and dainty. her eyes were bright and her face as smooth and unwrinkled as a child's. "bon jour," she cried gaily, "ah! but i am 'ungry! it is the air of the country! i love so the country!" "i hope you slept well, madame!" said desmond solicitously, looking admiringly at her trim figure. "like a dead man," she replied with a little laugh, translating the french idiom. "shall we make a leetle promenade after the dejeuner? and you shall show me your pretty english country, voulez-vous? you see, i am dressed for le footing!" she lifted a little brown foot. they had a delightful luncheon together. old martha, who proved to be quite a passable cook, waited on them. there was some excellent burgundy and a carafe of old brandy with the coffee. nur-el-din was in her most gracious and captivating mood. she had dropped all her arrogance of their last interview and seemed to lay herself out to please. she had a keen sense of humor and entertained desmond vastly by her anecdotes of her stage career, some not a little risque, but narrated with the greatest bon-homie. but, strongly attracted as he was to the girl, desmond did not let himself lose sight of his ultimate object. he let her run on as gaily as she might but steadily, relentlessly he swung the conversation round to her last engagement at the palaceum. he wanted to see if she would make any reference to the murder at seven kings. if he could only bring in old mackwayte's name, he knew that the dancer must allude to the tragedy. then the unexpected happened. the girl introduced the old comedian's name herself. "the only pleasant memory i shall preserve of the palaceum," she said in french, "is my meeting with an old comrade of my youth. imagine, i had not seen him for nearly twenty years. monsieur mackwayte, his name is, we used to call him monsieur arthur in the old days when i was the child acrobat of the dupont troupe. such a charming fellow; and not a bit changed! he was doing a deputy turn at the palaceum on the last night i appeared there! and he introduced me to his daughter! une belle anglaise! i shall hope to see my old friend again when i go back to london!" desmond stared at her. if this were acting, the most hardened criminal could not have carried it off better. he searched the girl's face. it was frank and innocent. she ran on about mackwayte in the old days, his kindliness to everyone, his pretty wife, without a shadow of an attempt to avoid an unpleasant topic. desmond began to believe that not only did the girl have nothing to do with the tragedy but that actually she knew nothing about it. "did you see the newspapers yesterday?" he asked suddenly. "my friend," said nur-el-din, shaking her curls at him. "i never read your english papers. there is nothing but the war in them. and this war!" she gave a little shudder and was silent. at this moment old martha, who had left them over their coffee and cigarettes, came into the room. "there's a gentleman called to see you, sir!" she said to desmond. desmond started violently. he was scarcely used to his new role as yet. "who is it, martha?" he said, mastering his agitation. "mr. mortimer!" mumbled the old woman in her tired voice, "at least that's what he said his name was. the gentleman hadn't got a card!" nur-el-din sprang up from her chair so vehemently that she upset her coffee. "don't let him come in!" she cried in french. "did you say i was in?" desmond asked the old housekeeper, who was staring at the dancer. "why, yes, sir," the woman answered. desmond made a gesture of vexation. "where is this mr. mortimer?" he asked "in the library, sir!" "tell him i will be with him at once." martha hobbled away and desmond turned to the girl. "you heard what my housekeeper said? the man is here. i shall have to see him." nur-el-din, white to the lips, stood by the table, nervously twisting a little handkerchief. "non, non," she said rapidly, "you must not see him. he has come to find me. ah! if he should find out what i have done... you will not give me up to this man?" "you need not see him," desmond expostulated gently, "i will say you are not here! who is this mortimer that he should seek to do you harm?" "my friend," said the dancer sadly, "he is my evil genius. if i had dreamt that you knew him i would never have sought refuge in your house." "but i've never set eyes on the man in my life!" exclaimed desmond. the dancer shook her head mournfully at him. "very few of you have, my friend," she replied, "but you are all under his orders, nest-ce pas?" desmond's heart leaped. was mortimer's the guiding hand of this network of conspiracy? "i've trusted you, monsieur," nur-el-din continued in a pleading voice, "you will respect the laws of hospitality, and hide me from this man. you will not give me up! promise it, my friend?" desmond felt strangely moved. was this a callous murderess, a hired spy, who, with her great eyes brimming over with tears, entreated his protection so simply, so appealingly? "i promise i will not give you up to him, mademoiselle!" he said and hated himself in the same breath for the part he had to play. then he left her still standing by the table, lost in thought. desmond walked through the hall to the room in which he had found nur-el-din asleep on his arrival. his nerves were strung up tight for the impending encounter with this mortimer, whoever, whatever he was. desmond did not hesitate on the threshold of the room. he quietly opened the door and walked in. a man in a black and white check suit with white gaiters stood on the hearthrug, his hands tucked behind his back. he had a curiously young-old appearance, such as is found in professors and scientists of a certain type. this suggestion was probably heightened by the very strong spectacles he wore, which magnified his eyes until they looked like large colored marbles. he had a heavy curling moustache resembling that affected by the late lord randolph churchill. there was a good deal of mud on his boots, showing that he had come on foot. the two men measured one another in a brief but courteous glance. desmond wondered what on earth this man's profession was. he was quite unable to place him. "mr. bellward?" said mortimer, in a pleasant cultivated voice, "i am pleased to have this opportunity of meeting you personally." desmond bowed and muttered something conventional. mortimer had put out his hand but desmond could not nerve himself to take it. instead he pushed forward a chair. "thanks," said mortimer sitting down heavily, "i've had quite a walk across the fen. it's pleasant out but damp! i suppose you didn't get my letter?" "which letter was that" asked desmond. "why the one asking you to let me know when you would be back so that we might meet at last!" desmond shook his head. "no," he said, "i didn't get that one. it must have gone astray. as a matter of fact," he added, "i only got back this morning." "oh, well then, i am fortunate in my visit," said mortimer. "did everything go off all right?" "oh, yes," desmond hastened to say, not knowing what he was talking about, "everything went off all right." "i don't in the least grudge you the holiday," the other observed, "one should always be careful to pay the last respects to the dead. it makes a good impression. that is so important in some countries!" he beamed at desmond through his spectacles. "was there anything left in your absence?" he asked, "no, there would be nothing; i suppose!" desmond took a firm resolution. he must know what the man was driving at. "i don't know what you mean," he said bluntly. "god bless my soul!" ejaculated mortimer turning round to stare at him through his grotesque glasses. and then he said very deliberately in german: "war niemand da?" desmond stood up promptly. "what do you want with me?" he asked quietly, "and why do you speak german in my house?" mortimer gazed at him blankly. "excellence, most excellent," he gasped. "i love prudence. my friend, where are your eyes?" he put a large, firm hand up and touched the upper edge of the left lapel of his jacket. desmond followed his gesture with his eyes and saw the other's first finger resting on the shiny glass head of a black pin. almost instinctively desmond imitated the gesture. his fingers came into contact with a glassheaded pin similarly embedded in the upper edge of the lapel of his own coat. then he understood. this must be the distinguishing badge of this confraternity of spies. it was a clever idea, for the black pin was practically invisible, unless one looked for it, and even if seen, would give rise to no suspicions. it had obviously escaped the notice of the chief and his merry men, and desmond made a mental resolve to rub this omission well into his superior on the first opportunity. he felt he owed the chief one. mr. mortimer cleared his throat, as though to indicate the conclusion of the episode. desmond sat down on the settee. "nothing came while i was away!" he said. "now that you are back," mortimer remarked, polishing his glasses with a bandanna handkerchief, "the service will be resumed. i have come to see you, mr. bellward," he went on, turning to desmond, "contrary to my usual practice, mainly because i wished to confirm by personal observation the very favorable opinion i had formed of your ability from our correspondence. you have already demonstrated your discretion to me. if you continue to show that your prudence is on a level with your zeal, believe i shall not prove myself ungrateful." so saying he settled his glasses on his nose again. the action woke desmond from a brown study. during the operation of wiping his spectacles, mr. mortimer had given desmond a glimpse of his eyes in their natural state without the protection of those distorting glasses. to his intense surprise desmond had seen, instead of the weak, blinking eyes of extreme myopia, a pair of keen piercing eyes with the clear whites of perfect health. those blue eyes, set rather close together, seemed dimly familiar. someone, somewhere, had once looked at him like that. "you are too kind," murmured desmond, grappling for the thread of the conversation. mortimer did not apparently notice his absentmindedness. "everything has run smoothly," he resumed, "on the lines on which we have been working hitherto, but more important work lies before us. i have found it necessary to select a quiet rendezvous where i might have an opportunity of conferring in person with my associates. the first of these conferences will take place very shortly. i count upon your attendance, bellward!" "i shall not fail you," replied desmond. "but where is this rendezvous of yours, might i ask?" mortimer shot a quick glance at him. "you shall know in good time," he answered drily. then he added: "do you mind if i have a few words with nur-el-din before i go!" the unexpected question caught desmond off his guard. "nur-el-din?" he stammered feebly. "she is staying with you, i believe," said mortimer pleasantly. desmond shook his head. "there must be some mistake," he averred stoutly, "of course i know who you mean, but i have never met the lady. she is not here. what led you to suppose she was?" but even as he spoke, his eyes fell on a black object which lay near his arm stretched out along the back of the settee. it was a little velvet hat, skewered to the upholstery of the settee by a couple of jewelled hat-pins. a couple of gaudy cushions lay between it and mortimer's range of vision from the chair in which the latter was sitting. if only mortimer had not spotted it already! desmond's presence of mind did not desert him. on the pretext of settling himself more comfortably he edged up another cushion until it rested upon the other two, thus effectively screening the hat from mortimer's view even when he should get up. "i wish she were here," desmond added, smiling, "one could not have a more delightful companion to share one's solitude, i imagine." "the lady has disappeared from london under rather suspicious circumstances;" mortimer said, letting his grotesque eyes rest for a moment on desmond's face, "to be quite frank with you, my dear fellow, she has been indiscreet, and the police are after her." "you don't say!" cried desmond. "indeed, it is a fact," replied the other, "i wish she would take you as her model, my dear bellward. you are the pattern of prudence, are you not?" he paused perceptibly and desmond held his breath. "she has very few reputable friends," mortimer continued presently, "under a cloud as she is, she could hardly frequent the company of her old associates, mowbury and lazarro and mrs. malplaquet, you doubtless know whom i mean. i know she has a very strong recommendation to you, so i naturally thought--well, no matter!" he rose and extended his hand. "au revoir, bellward," he said, "you shall hear from me very soon. you've got a snug little place here, i must say, and everything in charming taste. i like your pretty cushions." the blood flew to desmond's face and he bent down, on pretense of examining the cushions, to hide his confusion. "they aren't bad," he said, "i got them at harrod's!" he accompanied mortimer to the front door and watched him disappear down the short drive and turn out of the gate into the road. then feeling strangely ill at ease, he went back to join nur-el-din in the dining-room. but only the housekeeper was there, clearing the table. "if you're looking for the young lady, sir," said old martha, "she's gone out!" "oh!" said desmond, with a shade of disappointment in his voice, "will she be back for tea?" "she's not coming back at all," answered the old woman, "she told me to tell you she could not stop, sir. and she wouldn't let me disturb you, neither, sir." "but did she leave no note or anything for me?" asked desmond. "no, sir," answered old martha as she folded up the cloth. gone! desmond stared gloomily out at the sopping garden with an uneasy feeling that he had failed in his duty. chapter xiii. what shakespeare's comedies revealed in a very depressed frame of mind, desmond turned into the library. as he crossed the hall, he noticed how cheerless the house was. again there came to him that odor of mustiness--of all smells the most eerie and drear--which he had noticed on his arrival. somehow, as long as nur-el-din had been there, he had not remarked the appalling loneliness of the place. a big log fire was blazing cheerfully in the grate, throwing out a bright glow into the room which, despite the early hour, was already wreathed in shadows. wearily desmond pulled a big armchair up to the blaze and sat down. he told himself that he must devote every minute of his spare time to going over in his mind the particulars he had memorized of mr. bellward's habits and acquaintanceships. he took the list of bellward's friends from his pocket-book. but this afternoon he found it difficult to concentrate his attention. his gaze kept wandering back to the fire, in whose glowing depths he fancied he could see a perfect oval face with pleading eyes and dazzling teeth looking appealingly at him. nur-el-din! what an entrancing creature she was! what passion lurked in those black eyes of hers, in her moods, swiftly changing from gusts of fierce imperiousness to gentle airs of feminine charm! what a frail little thing she was to have fought her way alone up the ladder from the lowest rung to the very top! she must have character and grit, desmond decided, for he was a young man who adored efficiency: to him efficiency spelled success. but a spy needs grit, he reflected, and nur-el-din had many qualities which would enable her to win the confidence of men. hadn't she half-captivated him, the would-be spy-catcher, already? desmond laughed ruefully to himself. indeed, he mused, things looked that way. what would the chief say if he could see his prize young man, his white-headed boy, sitting sentimentalizing by the fire over a woman who was, by her own confession, practically an accredited german agent? desmond thrust his chin out and shook himself together. he would put the feminine side of nur-el-din out of his head. he must think of her henceforth only as a member of the band that was spotting targets for those sneaking, callous brutes of u-boat commanders. he went back to the study of the list of mr. bellward's friends. but he found it impossible to focus his mind upon it. do what he would, he could not rid himself of the sensation that he had failed at the very outset of his mission. he was, indeed, he told himself, the veriest tyro at the game. here he had had under his hand in turn nur-el-din and mortimer (who, he made no doubt, was the leader of the gang which was so sorely troubling the chief), and he had let both get away without eliciting from either even as much as their address. by the use of a little tact, he had counted on penetrating something of the mystery enveloping the dancer and her relationship with the gang; for he thought he divined that nur-el-din was inclined to make him her confidant. with the information thus procured, he had hoped to get on to the track of the leader of the band. but that ugly brute; mortimer, with his goggle eyes, had spoiled everything. his appearance had taken desmond completely by surprise: to tell the truth, it had thrown our young man rather off his guard. "if only i might have had a little longer acquaintance with my part," he reflected bitterly as he sat by the fire, "i should have been better able to deal with that pompous ass!" afterwards, when thinking over the opening events of this extraordinary episode of his career, desmond rather wondered why he had not followed mortimer out of the house that afternoon and tracked him down to his hiding place. but, as a matter of fact, the idea did not occur to him at the time. his orders were positive not to leave the house, and he never even thought of breaking them--at any rate, not then. his orders, also, it is true, were to report to headquarters any communication that might be made to him; but these instructions, at least as far as nur-el-din's and mortimer's visits were concerned, he resolved to ignore. for one thing, he felt angry with the chief who, he argued rather irrationally, ought to have foreseen and prevented mortimer thus taking him by surprise. the chief liked secrets--well, for a change, he should be kept in the dark and the laugh would be on desmond's side. for a few minutes after mortimer's departure, desmond had felt strongly inclined to go to the telephone which stood on the desk in the library and ring up mr. elias, as he should have done, but he resisted this impulse. now, thinking things over in the firelight, he was glad he had refrained. he would ferret out for himself the exact part that nur-el-din and mortimer were playing in this band of spies. nothing definite had come of his interviews with them as yet. it would be time enough to communicate with headquarters when he had something positive to report. then desmond thrust the paper he had been studying back in his pocket-book and jumped up. he felt that the inaction was stifling him. he determined to go for a walk round the garden. that, at least, was in the spirit of his orders. remembering that he was supposed to be suffering from a chill he donned a heavy ulster of bellward's which was hanging in the hall and wound a muffler round his neck. then cramming a soft cap on his head (he noted with satisfaction that bellward's hats fitted him remarkably well) he opened the front door and stepped outside. the rain had stopped, but the whole atmosphere reeked of moisture. angry-looking, dirty-brown clouds chased each other across the lowering sky, and there was a constant sound of water, trickling and gurgling and splashing, in his ears. an untidy-looking lawn with a few unkempt and overgrown rhododendron bushes dotted here and there ran its length in front of the house and terminated in an iron railing which separated the grounds from a little wood. a badly water-logged drive, green with grass in places, ran past the lawn in a couple of short bends to the front gate. on the other side the drive was bordered by what had once been a kitchen garden but was now a howling wilderness of dead leaves, mud and gravel with withered bushes and half a dozen black, bare and dripping apple trees set about at intervals. at the side of the house the kitchen garden stopped and was joined by a flower garden--at least so desmond judged it to have been by a half ruined pergola which he had noticed from the drawing-room windows. through the garden ran the mill-race which poured out of the grounds through a field and under a little bridge spanning the road outside. desmond followed the drive as far as the front gate. the surrounding country was as flat as a pancake, and in almost every field lay great glistening patches of water where the land had been flooded by the incessant rain. the road on which the house was built ran away on the left to the mist-shrouded horizon without another building of any kind in sight. desmond surmised that morstead fen lay in the direction in which he was looking. to the right, desmond caught a glimpse of a ghostly spire sticking out of some trees and guessed that this was wentfield church. in front of him the distant roar of a passing train showed where the great eastern railway line lay. more depressed than ever by the utter desolation of the scene, desmond turned to retrace his steps to the house. noticing a path traversing the kitchen garden, he followed it. it led to the back of the house, to the door of a kind of lean-to shed. the latch yielded on being pressed and desmond entered the place. he found himself in a fair-sized shed, very well and solidly built of pitch-pine, with a glazed window looking out on the garden, a table and a couple of chairs, and a large cupboard which occupied the whole of one side of the wall of the house against which the shed was built. in a corner of the shed stood a very good-looking douglas motor-cycle, and on a nail on the wall hung a set of motor-cyclist's overalls. a few petrol cans, some full, some empty, stood against the wall. desmond examined the machine. it was in excellent condition, beautifully clean, the tank half full of spirits. a little dry sand on the tires showed that it had been used fairly recently. "old man bellward's motor-bike that he goes to the station on," desmond noted mentally. "but what's in the big cupboard, i wonder? tools, i expect!" then he caught sight of a deep drawer in the table. it was half-open and he saw that it contained various tools and spare parts, neatly arranged, each one in its appointed place. he went over to the cupboard and tried it. it was locked. desmond had little respect for mr. bellward's property so he went over to the tool drawer and selected a stout chisel with which to burst the lock of the cupboard. but the cupboard was of oak, very solidly built, and he tried in vain to get a purchase for his implement. he leant his left hand against the edge of the cupboard whilst with his right he jabbed valiantly with the chisel. then an extraordinary thing happened. the whole cupboard noiselessly swung outwards while desmond, falling forward, caught his forehead a resounding bang against the edge of the recess in which it moved. he picked himself up in a very savage frame of mind--a severe blow on the head is not the ideal cure for hypochondria--but the flow of objurgatives froze on his lips. for he found himself looking into mr. bellward's library. he stepped into the room to see how the cupboard looked from the other side. he found that a whole section of bookshelves had swung back with the cupboard, in other words that the cupboard in the toolshed and the section of bookshelves were apparently all of one piece. he carefully examined the walls on either side of the recess in the library to see how the mechanism worked. the bookshelves were open, made of mahogany, the sides elaborately carved with leaves and flowers. desmond ran his hand down the perpendicular section immediately on the right of the recess. about halfway down--to be exact, it was in line with the fifth shelf from the floor--his fingers encountered a little knob which gave under pressure--the heart of a flower which released the section of bookshelves. going back to the shed, desmond examined the place against which his hand had rested as he sought to force the lock of the cupboard. as he expected, he found a similar catch let into the surface of the oak, but so cunningly inlaid that it could scarce be detected with the naked eye. before proceeding further with his investigations, desmond softly turned the lock of the library door. he also shot forward a bolt he found on the inside of the door of the shed. he did not want to be interrupted by the housekeeper or the odd man. then he went back to the library and pulled the cupboard to behind him. it moved quite easily into place. he wanted to have a look at the bookshelves; for he was curious to know whether the cupboard was actually all of one piece with the section of bookshelves as it seemed to be. he was prepared to find that the books were merely library dummies, but no! he tried half a dozen shelves at random, and every book he pulled out was real. desmond was not easily baffled, and he determined to scrutinize every shelf, of this particular section in turn. with the aid of one of those step-ladders folding into a chair which you sometimes see in libraries, he examined the topmost shelves but without result. he took down in turn macaulay's history of england, a handsome edition of the works of swift, and a set of moliere without getting any nearer the end of his quest. the fourth shelf from the top was devoted to a library edition of shakespeare, large books bound in red morocco. desmond, who, by this time was getting cramp in the arms from stretching upwards and had made his hands black with dust, pulled out a couple of volumes at hazard from the set and found them real books like the rest. "oh, damn!" he exclaimed, and had half a mind to abandon the search and have a go with hammer and chisel at the cupboard in the shed. by this time it was almost dusk in the library, and desmond, before abandoning the search, struck a match to have a final rapid glance over the shelves. the light showed him a curious flatness about the backs of the last six volumes of shakespeare. he dropped the match and laid hold of a volume of the comedies. it resisted. he tugged. still it would not come. exerting all his strength, he pulled, the gilt-lettered backs of the last six volumes came away in his hands in one piece and he crashed off the ladder to the ground. this time he did not swear. he picked himself up quickly, lit the lamp on the table by the window, and brought it over to the bookcase. where shakespeare's comedies had stood was now a gaping void with a small key stuck in a lock, above a brass handle. desmond mounted on the steps again and eagerly turned the key. then he grasped the handle and puled, the section of bookshelves swung back like a door, and he found himself face to face with a great stack of petrol cans. they lay in orderly piles stretching from the floor to the top of the bookshelves near the railing, several tiers deep. at a rough computation there must have been several hundred cans in the recess. and they were all full. in a flash desmond realized what his discovery signified. the motor-cycle in the shed without was the connecting link between bellward and the man with whom he was co-operating in the organization. under pretext of reading late in his library bellward would send old martha to bed, and once the house was quiet, sally forth by his secret exit and meet his confederate. even when he was supposed to be sleeping in london he could still use the mill house for a rendezvous, entering and leaving by the secret door, and no one a bit the wiser. in that desolate part of essex, the roads are practically deserted after dark. bellward could come and go much as he pleased on his motor-cycle. were he stopped, he always had the excuse ready that he was going to--or returning from the station. the few petrol cans that desmond had seen openly displayed in the shed without seemed to show that bellward received a small quantity of spirit from the petrol board to take him to and from the railway. the cache, so elaborately concealed, however, pointed to long journeys. did bellward undertake these trips to fetch news or to transmit it? and who was his confederate? whom did he go to meet? not mortimer; for he had only, corresponded with bellward. nor was it nur-el-din; for she had never met bellward, either. who was it, then? chapter xiv. barbara takes a hand "no luck, mr. marigold," said the assistant provost marshal, "i'm sorry, but there it is! we've made every possible inquiry about this private... er..." he glanced at the buff-colored leave pass in his hand, "... this gunner barling, but we can't trace him so far. he should have gone back to france the afternoon before the day on which you found his pass. but he hasn't rejoined his unit. he's been posted as an absentee, and the police have been warned. i'm afraid we can't do any more than that!" the detective looked at the officer with mild reproach in his eyes. "dear, dear," he replied, "and i made sure you'd be able to trace him with that pass!" he clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head. "dear, dear!" he said again. "what's the feller been up to?" asked the a.p.m. detectives have a horror of leading questions, and mr. marigold shrank visibly before the directness of the other's inquiry. before replying, however, he measured the officer with his calm, shrewd eye. mr. marigold was not above breaking his own rules of etiquette if thereby he might gain a useful ally. "well, captain beardiston," he answered slowly, "i'll tell you because i think that you may be able to help me a little bit. it's part of your work to look after deserters and absentees and those sort o' folk, isn't it?" the a.p.m. groaned. "part of my work?" he repeated, "it seems to be my whole life ever since i came back from the front." "if you want to know what this young fellow has been up to," said mr. marigold in his even voice, "it's murder, if i'm not mistaken!" "murder?" echoed the other in surprise. "why, not the seven kings murder, surely?" the detective gave a brisk nod. "that's it," he replied, "i'm in charge of that case, if you follow me. i found that pass in the front garden of the mackwayte's house in laleham villas, half trodden into the earth of the flower-bed by a heavy boot, a service boot, studded with nails. there had been a lot of rain in the night, and it had washed the mosaic-tiled pathway up to the front door almost clean. when i was having a look round the garden, i picked up this pass, and then i spotted the trace of service boots, a bit faint, on the beds. you know the way the nails are set in the issue boots?" the officer nodded: "i ought to know that foot-print," he said. "it's all over the roads in northern france." "we made inquiries through you," the detective resumed, "and when i found that this gunner barling, the owner of the pass, was missing, well, you will admit, it looked a bit suspicious." "still, you know," the a.p.m. objected, "this man appears to have the most excellent character. he's got a clean sheet; he's never gone absent before. and he's been out with his battery almost since the beginning of the war." "i'm not making any charge against him as yet," answered the detective, picking up his hat, "but it would interest me very much, very much indeed, captain beardiston, to have five minutes' chat with this gunner. and so i ask you to keep a sharp lookout for a man answering to his description, and if you come across him, freeze on to him hard, and give me a ring on the telephone." "right you are," said the officer, "i'll hold him for you, mr. marigold. but i hope your suspicions are not well-founded." for a brief moment the detective became a human being. "and so do i, if you want to know," he said. "one can forgive those lads who are fighting out there almost anything. i've got a boy in france myself!" a little sigh escaped him, and then mr. marigold remembered "the yard." "i'll bid you good-day!" he added in his most official voice and took his leave. he walked down the steps by the duke of york's column and through the horse guards into whitehall, seemingly busy with his own thoughts. a sprucely dressed gentleman who was engaged in the exciting and lucrative sport of war profiteering turned color and hastily swerved out towards the park as he saw the detective crossing the horse guards' parade. he was unpleasantly reminded of making the acquaintance of mr. marigold over a bucketshop a few years ago with the result that he had vanished from the eye of his friends for eighteen months. he congratulated himself on thinking that mr. marigold had not seen him, but he would have recognized his mistake could he but have caught sight of the detective's face. a little smile flitted across mr. marigold's lips and he murmured to himself: "our old friend is looking very prosperous just now. i wonder what he's up to?" mr. marigold didn't miss much. the detective made his way to the chief's office. barbara mackwayte, in a simple black frock with white linen collar and cuffs, was at her old place in the ante-room. a week had elapsed since the murder, and the day before, mr. marigold knew, the mortal remains of poor old mackwayte had been laid to rest. he was rather surprised to see the girl back at work so soon. she did not speak to him as she showed him into the chief, but there was a question lurking in her gray eyes. mr. marigold looked at her and gravely shook his head. "nothing fresh," he said. the chief was unusually exuberant. mr. marigold found him surrounded, as was his wont, by papers, and a fearsome collection of telephone receivers. he listened in silence to mr. marigold's account of his failure to trace barling. "marigold," he said, when the other had finished, "we must undoubtedly lay hold of this fellow. let's see now... ah! i have it!" he scribbled a few lines on a writing-pad and tossed it across to the detective. "if your friend's innocent," he chuckled, "that'll fetch him to a dead certainty. if he murdered mackwayte, of course he won't respond. read it out and let's hear how it sounds!" the chief leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette while the detective read out: "if gunner barling, etcetera, etcetera, will communicate with messrs. blank and blank, solicitors, he will hear of something to his advantage. difficulties with the military can be arranged." "but i say, sir," objected mr. marigold, "the military authorities will hardly stand for that last, will they?" "won't they, by jove" retorted the chief grimly. "they will if i tell 'em to. no official soullessness for me; thank you! and now, marigold, just ask matthews to fill in barling's regimental number and all that and the name and address of the solicitors who do this kind of thing for us. and tell him we'll insert the ad. daily until further notice in the mail, chronicle, daily news, sketch, mirror, evening news..." "and star," put in mr. marigold who had radical tendencies. "the star, too, by all means. that ought to cover the extent of your pal's newspaper reading, i fancy, eh, marigold! right!" he held out a hand in farewell. but mr. marigold stood his ground. he was rather a slow mover, and there were a lot of things he wanted to discuss with the chief. "i was very sorry to see poor major okewood in the casualty list this morning, sir," he said. "i was going to ask you..." "ah, terrible, terrible!" said the chief. then he added: "just tell miss mackwayte i want her as you go out, will you?" the detective was used to surprises but the chief still bowled him out occasionally. before he knew what he was doing, mr. marigold found himself in the ante-room doing as he was bid. as soon as her father's funeral was over; barbara had insisted on returning to work. the whole ghastly business of the murder and the inquest that followed seemed to her like a bad dream which haunted her day and night. by tacit consent no one in the office had made any further allusion, to the tragedy. she had just slipped back into her little niche, prompt, punctual, efficient as ever. "no, it's not for the letters," the chief said to her as she came in with her notebook and pencil. "i'm going to give you a little trip down to the country this afternoon, miss mackwayte... to, essex... the mill house, wentfield... you know whom it is you are to see, eh? i'm getting a little restless as we've had no reports since he arrived there. i had hoped, by this, to have been able to put him on the track of nur-el-din, but, for the moment, it looks as if we had lost the scent. but you can tell our friend all we know about the lady's antecedents--what we had from my french colleague the other day, you know? let him have all the particulars about this barling case--you know about that, don't you? good, and, see here, try and find out from our mutual friend what he intends doing. i don't want to rush him... don't let him think that... but i should rather like to discover whether he has formed any plan. and now you get along. there's a good train about three which gets you down to wentfield in just under the hour. take care of yourself! see you in the morning!" pressing a bell with one hand and lifting up a telephone receiver with the other, the chief immersed himself again in his work. he appeared to have forgotten miss mackwayte's very existence. at a quarter to five that evening, barbara unlatched the front gate of the mill house and walked up the drive. she had come on foot from the station and the exercise had done her good. it had been a deliciously soft balmy afternoon, but with the fall of dusk a heavy mist had come creeping up from the sodden, low-lying fields and was spreading out over the neglected garden of mr. bellward's villa as barbara entered the avenue. the damp gloom of the place, however, depressed her not at all. she exulted in the change of scene and the fresh air; besides, she knew that the presence of desmond okewood would dispel the vague fears that had hung over her incessantly ever since her father's murder. she had only met him twice, she told herself when this thought occurred to her, but there was something bracing and dependable about him that was just the tonic she wanted. a porter at the station, who was very intelligent as country porters go, had told her the way to the mill house. the way was not easy to find for there were various turns to make but, with the aid of such landmarks as an occasional inn, a pond or a barn, given her by the friendly porter, barbara reached her destination. under the porch she pulled the handle of the bell, all dank and glistening with moisture, and heard it tinkle loudly somewhere within the house. how lonely the place was, thought barbara with a little shiver! the fog was growing thicker every minute and now seemed suspended like a vast curtain between her and the drive. somewhere in the distance she heard the hollow gurgling of a stream. otherwise, there was no sound. she rang the bell again rather nervously and waited. in her bag she had a little torch-light (for she was a practical young person), and taking it out, she flashed it on the door. it presented a stolid, impenetrable oaken front. she stepped out into the fog and scanned the windows which were already almost lost to view. they were dark and forbidding. again she tugged at the bell. again, with a groaning of wires, responded the hollow tinkle. then silence fell once more. barbara began to get alarmed. what had happened to major okewood? she had understood that there was no question of his leaving the house until the chief gave him the word. where, then, was he? he was not the man to disobey an order. rather than believe that, she would think that something untoward had befallen him. had there been foul play here, too? a sudden panic seized her. she grasped the bell and tugged and tugged until she could tug no more. the bell jangled and pealed and clattered reverberatingly from the gloomy house, and then, with a jarring of wires, relapsed into silence. barbara beat on the door with her hands, for there was no knocker; but all remained still within. only the dank mist swirled in ever denser about her as she stood beneath the dripping porch. "this won't do!" said barbara, pulling herself together. "i mustn't get frightened, whatever i do! major okewood is very well capable of defending himself. what's happened is that the man has been called away and the servants have taken advantage of his absence to go out! barbara, my dear, you'll just have to foot it back to the station without your tea!" she turned her back on the door and torch in hand, plunged resolutely into the fog-bank. the mist was bewilderingly thick. still, by going slow and always keeping the gravel under her feet, she reached the front gate and turned out on the road. here the mist was worse than ever. she had not taken four paces before she had lost all sense of her direction. the gate, the railways, were gone. she was groping in a clinging pall of fog. her torch was worse than useless. it only illuminated swirling swathes of mist and confused her, so she switched it out. in vain she looked about her, trying to pick up some landmark to guide her. there was no light, no tree, no house visible, nothing but the dank, ghostly mist. to some temperaments, nature has no terrors. barbara, to whose imagination an empty house at dusk had suggested all kinds of unimaginable fears, was not in the least frightened by the fog. she only hoped devoutly that a motor-car or a trap would not come along behind and run her down for she was obliged to keep to the road; the hard surface beneath her feet was her only guide. she smiled over her predicament as she made her way along. she frequently found herself going off the road, more than once into patches of water, with the result that in a few minutes her feet were sopping. still she forged ahead, with many vain halts to reconnoitre while the fog, instead of lifting, seemed to thicken with every step she took. by this time she knew she was completely lost. coming from the station there had been, she remembered, a cross-roads with a sign-board set up on a grass patch, about a quarter of a mile from the mill house. she expected every minute to come upon this fork; again and again she swerved out to the left from her line of march groping for the sign-post with her hands but she never encountered it. few sounds came to break in upon the oppressive silence of the mist. once or twice barbara heard a train roaring along in the distance and, at one of her halts, her ear caught the high rising note of a motor engine a long way off. except for these occasional reminders of the proximity of human beings, she felt she must be on a desert island instead of less than two score miles from london. her wrist watch showed her that she had walked for an hour when she heard a dog barking somewhere on the left of the road. presently, she saw a blurred patch of radiance apparently on the ground in front of her. so deceptive are lights seen through a fog that she was quite taken aback suddenly to come upon a long low house with a great beam of light streaming out of the door. the house was approached by a little bridge across a broad ditch. by the bridge stood a tall, massive post upon which a sign squeaked softly as it swayed to and fro. the inn was built round three sides of a square, the left-hand side being the house itself, the centre, the kitchen, and the right-hand side a tumble-down stable and some sheds. the welcome blaze of light coming from the open door was very welcome to barbara after her, long journey through the mist. she dragged her wet and weary feet across the little bridge and went up to the inn-door. she stood for a moment at the entrance dazzled by the effect of the light on her eyes, which were smarting with the fog. she found herself looking into a long, narrow, taproom, smelling of stale beer and tobacco fumes, and lit by oil lamps suspended in wire frames from the raftered ceiling. the windows were curtained in cheerful red rep and the place was pleasantly warmed by a stove in one corner. by the stove was a small door apparently leading into the bar, for beside it was a window through which barbara caught a glimpse of beer-engines and rows of bottles. opposite the doorway in which she stood was another door leading probably to the back of the house. down the centre of the room ran a long table. the tap-room was empty when barbara entered but as she sat down at the table, the door opposite opened, and a short, foreign-looking woman came out. she stepped dead on seeing the girl: her face seemed familiar to barbara. "good evening" said the latter, "i've lost my way in the fog and i'm very wet. do you think i could have my shoes and stockings dried and get some tea? i..." "a moment! i go to tell meester rass," said the woman with a very marked foreign accent and in a frightened kind of voice and slipped out by the way she came. "where have i met that woman before?" barbara asked herself, as she crossed to tile stove to get warm. the woman's face seemed to be connected in her mind with something unpleasant, something she wanted to forget. then a light dawned on her. why, it was... a shrill cry broke in upon her meditations, a harsh scream of rage. barbara turned quickly and saw nur-el-din standing in the centre of the room. she was transfigured with passion. her whole body quivered, her nostrils were dilated, her eyes flashed fire, and she pointed an accusing finger at barbara. "ah! miserable!" she cried in a voice strangled with rage, "ah! miserable! te voile enrol." a cold chill struck at barbara's heart. wherever she went, the hideous spectre of the tragedy of her father seemed to follow her. and now nur-el-din had come to upbraid her with losing the treasure she had entrusted to her. "nur-el-din," the girl faltered in a voice broken with tears. "where is it i where is the silver box i gave into your charge? answer me. mais reponds, donc, canaille!" the dancer stamped furiously with her foot and advanced menacingly on barbara. an undersized; yellow-faced man came quickly out of the small door leading from the bar and stood an instant, a helpless witness of the scene, as men are when women quarrel. nur-el-din rapped out an order to him in a tongue which was unknown to barbara. it sounded something like russian. the man turned and locked the door of the bar, then stepped swiftly across the room and bolted the outer door. barbara recognized the threat that the action implied and it served to steady her nerves. she shrank back no longer but drew herself up and waited calmly for the dancer to reach her. "the box you gave me," said barbara very quietly, "was stolen from me by the person who... who murdered my father!" nur-el-din burst into a peal of malicious laughter. "and you?" she cried, "you are 'ere to sell it back to me, hein, or to get your blood money from your accomplice? which is it?" on this barbara's self-control abandoned her. "oh, how dare you! how dare you!" she exclaimed, bursting into tears, "when that wretched box you made me take was the means of my losing the dearest friend i ever had!" nur-el-din thrust her face, distorted with passion, into barbara's. she spoke in rapid french, in a low, menacing voice. "do you think this play-acting will deceive me? do you think i don't know the value of the treasure i was fool enough to entrust to your safe keeping? grand dieu! i must have been mad not to have remembered that no woman could resist the price that they were willing to pay for it! and to think what i have risked for it! is all my sacrifice to have been in vain?" her voice rose to a note of pleading and the tears started from her eyes. her mood changed. she began to wheedle. "come, ma petite, you will help me recover my little box, n'est-ce pas? you will find me generous. and i am rich, i have great savings. i can..." barbara put up her hands and pushed the dancer away from her. "after what you have said to me to-night," she said, "i wouldn't give you back your box even if i had it." she turned to the man. "will you tell me the way to the nearest station" she went on, "and kindly open that door!" the man looked interrogatively at nur-el-din who spoke a few words rapidly in the language she had used before. then she cried to barbara: "you stay here until you tell me what you have done with the box!" barbara had turned to the dancer when the latter spoke so that she did not notice that the man had moved stealthily towards her. before she could struggle or cry out, a hand as big as a spade was clapped over her mouth, she was seized in an iron grip and half-dragged, half-carried out of the taproom through the small door opposite the front entrance. the door slammed behind them and barbara found herself in darkness. she was pushed round a corner and down a flight of stairs into some kind of cellar which smelt of damp straw. here the grip on her mouth was released for a second but before she could utter more than a muffled cry the man thrust a handkerchief into her mouth and effectually gagged her. then he tied her hands and feet together with some narrow ropes that cut her wrists horribly. he seemed to be able to see in the dark for, though the place was black as pitch, he worked swiftly and skillfully. barbara felt herself lifted and deposited on a bundle of straw. in a little she heard the man's heavy foot-step on the stair, there was a crash as of a trap-door falling to, the noise of a bolt. then barbara fainted. chapter xv. mr. bellward is called to the telephone a knocking at the door of the library aroused desmond from his cogitations. he hastened to replace the volumes of shakespeare on their shelf and restore all to its former appearance. then he went to the door and opened it. old martha stood in the hall. "if you please, sir," she wheezed, "the doctor's come!" "oh," said desmond, rather puzzled, "what doctor?" "it's not dr. haines from the village, mr. bellward, sir," said the housekeeper, "it's a genel'man from lunnon!" then desmond remembered crook's promise to look him up and guessed it must be he. he bade martha show the doctor in and bring tea for two. desmond's surmise was right. the old woman ushered in crook, looking the very pattern of medical respectability, with harley street written all over him from the crown of his glossy top-hat to the neat brown spats on his feet. in his hand he carried a small black bag. "well," he said, surveying desmond, "and how do we find ourselves to-day? these chills are nasty things to shake off, my dear sir!" "oh, stow that!" growled desmond, who was in little mood for joking. "voice inclined to be laryngeal," said crook putting down his hat and bag on a chair, "we shall have to take care of our bronchial tubes! we are not so young as we were!" "you can drop all that mumming, crook!" snapped desmond irascibly. "voice rotten," replied crook calmly surveying him through his pince-nez. "really, major--i should say, mr. bellward--you must take more pains than that. you are talking to me exactly as though i were a british tommy. tut, tut, this will never do, sir! you must talk thicker, more guttural-like, and open the vowels well." he had dropped his jesting manner altogether and spoke with the deep earnestness of the expert airing his pet topic. he was so serious that desmond burst out laughing. it must be said, however, that he laughed as much like a german as he knew how. this appeared to mollify crook who, nevertheless, read him a long lecture against ever, for a moment, even when alone, quitting the role he was playing. desmond took it in good part; for he knew the soundness of the other's advice. then old martha brought tea, and over the cups and saucers crook gave desmond a budget of news. he told of the warrant issued for the arrest of nur-el-din and of the search being made for her. desmond heard the news of nur-el-din's disappearance from london with some consternation. he began to realize that his failure to detain nur-el-din that afternoon might have incalculable consequences. sunk in thought, he let crook run on. he was wondering whether he ought to give him a message for the chief, telling him of nur-el-din's visit and of her flight on the arrival of mortimer. now, desmond had a good deal of pride, and like most proud people, he was inclined to be obstinate. to confess to the chief that he had let both nur-el-din and mortimer slip through his fingers was more than he could face. he could not bear to think that the chief might believe him capable of failure, and take independent measures to guard against possible mistakes. also, in his heart of hearts, desmond was angry with the chief. he thought the latter had acted precipitately in getting out a warrant for nur-el-din's arrest before he, desmond, had had time to get into the skin of his part. so desmond heard crook out and made no comment. when the other asked him if he had anything to tell the chief, he shook his head. he was not to know then the consequences which his disobedience of orders was destined to have. if he had realized what the result of his obstinacy would be, he would not have hesitated to send a full report by crook--and this story might never have been written! but if youth followed reason instead of impulse, the world would stand still. desmond was still at an age at which a man is willing to take on anything and anybody, and he was confident of bringing his mission to a successful conclusion without any extraneous aid. so crook, after changing desmond's make-up and giving him a further rehearsal of his role, packed up his pots and paints and brushes in his black bag and returned to london with "nothing to report" as the communiques say. he repeated his visit every day for the next four days. crook's arrival each afternoon was the only break in the monotony of a life which was rapidly becoming unbearable to desmond's mercurial temperament. he found himself looking forward to the wizened little man's visits and for want of better employment, he threw himself wholeheartedly into the study of his role under the expert's able direction. desmond's beard had sprouted wonderfully, and crook assured him that, by about the end of the week, the tow substitute, which desmond found a most unmitigated nuisance, would be no longer necessary. he also showed his pupil how to paint in the few deft lines about the eyes which completed the resemblance between bellward and his impersonator. the time hung terribly heavily on desmond's hands. he had long since memorized and destroyed the list of mr. bellward's friends. every morning he spent at least an hour before the mirror in his bedroom working up the role. with every day he felt more confident of himself; with every day he grew more anxious to go to london, and, taking the bull by the horns, boldly visit one of mr. bellward's acquaintances and test the effect of his disguise. but no orders came from headquarters to release him from his confinement. moreover, no word arrived from nur-el-din nor did mortimer send any message or call again at the mill house. the silence of the two conspirators made desmond uneasy. suppose mortimer, who, he felt sure, had caught him out lying about nur-el-din's presence in the house at the time of his visit, had grown suspicious! what if nur-el-din had succeeded in making good her escape to the continent? he had had his chance of laying hold of both suspects and he had failed. would that chance come again? desmond doubted it. every morning he awoke long before the dawn and lay awake until daylight, his mind racked by these apprehensions. he chafed bitterly at his inaction and he plied crook with questions as to whether he had any orders for him. each time crook replied in the negative. in the library desmond found an ordnance map of essex. his military training had given him a good schooling in the use of maps, and he spent many hours studying the section of the country about the mill house, seeking to impress it upon his mind against future emergencies. he was surprised to find how remote the mill house lay from other habitations. between it and wentfield station, once wentfield village was passed, there were only a few lonely farms; but to the south there was an absolutely uninhabited tract of fen traversed by the road running past the front gate of the mill house. the mill house was duly marked on the map; with a little blue line showing the millrace which desmond traced to its junction with one of the broad dykes intersecting morstead fen. the only inhabited house to the south of the bellward villa appeared to be a lonely public house situated on the far edge of the fen, a couple of hundred yards away from the road. it was called "the dyke inn." one afternoon--it was the fifth day after desmond's arrival at bellward's--mr. crook announced that this was to be his last visit. "i go abroad to-night, mr. bellward," he said (he always insisted on addressing desmond by his assumed name), "a little job o' work in switzerland; at berne, to be precise. urgent, you might call it, and really, sir, you've made so much progress that i think i can safely leave you. and i was to say that you will be able to go out very soon now." "good!" exclaimed desmond, rubbing his hands together. "and you think i'll do, crook, eh?" crook rubbed his nose meditatively. "i'll be quite frank with you, mr. bellward," he said: "with a superficial acquaintance, even with an intimate friend, if he's as unobservant as most people are, you'll pass muster. but i shouldn't like to guarantee anything if you were to meet, say, mrs. bellward, if the gentleman has got a wife, or his mother. keep out of a strong light; don't show your profile more than you can help, and remember that a woman is a heap more observant than a man. "that's my advice to you, sir. and now i'll take my leave! you won't want that tow beard any more after to-day." that night desmond slept well and did not awake until the sunshine was streaming in between the venetian blinds in his bedroom. he felt keen and vigorous, and he had an odd feeling that something was going to happen to him that day. it was a delicious morning, the air as balmy as spring. as he brushed his hair in front of the window, desmond saw the peewits running about in the sunshine on the fields by the road. he made an excellent breakfast and then, lighting a pipe, opened the times which lay folded by his plate. he turned first, as was his daily habit, to the casualty list. there it was! under the names of the "killed in action," he read: "okewood, major d. j. p.," followed by the name of his regiment. it gave him an odd little shock, though he had looked for the announcement every day; but the feeling of surprise was quickly followed by one of relief. that brief line in the casualty list meant the severing of all the old ties until he had hunted down his quarry. now he was ready to start. he spent the morning in the garden. here, for the first time, he met mr. hill, the odd man, who, on seeing him, became intensely busy picking up handfuls of leaves and conveying them to a fire which was smouldering in a corner. desmond essayed to enter into conversation with him but the man was so impenetrably deaf that desmond, tiring of bawling, "it's a fine day!" in mr. hill's ear, left him and strolled over to the shed where the motor-cycle was stored. here he amused himself for more than an hour in taking the machine to pieces and putting it together again. he satisfied himself that the bike was in working order and filled up the tank. he had an idea that this means of conveyance might come in useful. the day was so mild that he lunched by the open window with the sunshine casting rainbows on the tablecloth through the wine-glasses. he was just finishing his coffee when the housekeeper came in and told him he was wanted on the telephone. desmond sprang from his chair with alacrity. his marching orders at last! he thought, as he hurried across the hall to the library. "hullo!" he cried as he picked up the receiver. "is that mr. bellward?" answered a nasal voice. "bellward speaking!" said desmond, wondering who had called him up. the voice was a man's but it was not the abrupt clear tones of the chief nor yet mr. matthews' careful accents. "madame le bon wishes to see you!" madame le bon? thought desmond. why, that was the name that nur-el-din had given him. "i am madame le bon, a belgian refugee," she had said. "do you know whom i mean?" the voice continued. "certainly," replied desmond. "you will come alone. otherwise, madame will not see you. you understand? if you do not come alone, you will waste your time!" "where are you speaking from?" desmond asked. "if you will turn to the left on leaving your front gate," the voice resumed, "and follow the road, a messenger will meet you and take you to the lady." "but..." desmond began. "will you come at once? and alone?" the nasal voice broke in sharply. desmond took a moment's thought. to go was to disobey orders; not to go was to risk losing a second chance of meeting nur-el-din. to telephone to stanning for assistance would bring a hornets' nest about his ears; yet he might only see the dancer if he went alone. he lost no time in making up his mind. the chief must allow him latitude for meeting emergencies of this kind. he would go. "i will come at once," said desmond. "good," said the voice and the communication ceased. somewhere aloft there sits a sweet little cherub whose especial job is to look after the headstrong. it was doubtless this emissary of providence that leant down from his celestial seat and whispered in desmond's ear that it would be delightful to walk out across the fen on this sunny afternoon. desmond was in the act of debating whether he would not take the motor-bike, but the cherub's winning way clinched it and he plumped for walking. in the hall he met the housekeeper who told him she wanted to go into stanning to do some shopping that afternoon. desmond told her that he himself was going out and would not be back for tea. then, picking a stout blackthorn out of the hallstand, he strode down the drive and out into the road. it was still beautifully fine, but already the golden sunshine was waning and there were little wisps and curls of mist stealing low along the fields. desmond turned to the left, on leaving the mill house, as he was bid and saw the road running like a khaki ribbon before him into the misty distance. swinging his stick, he strode on rapidly. the road was neglected, broken and flinty and very soft. after he had gone about a mile it narrowed to pursue its way between two broad ditches lined with pollard willows and brimful of brown peaty water. by this time he judged, from his recollection of the map, that he must be on morstead fen. an interminable waste of sodden, emerald green fields, intersected by ditches, stretched away on either hand. he had walked for half an hour when he made out in the distance a clump of trees standing apart and seemingly in the middle of the fields. then in the foreground he descried a gate. a figure was standing by it. as he approached the gate he saw it was a small boy. on remarking the stranger, the urchin opened the gate and without looking to right or left led off down the road towards the clump of trees: desmond followed at his leisure. as they neared the trees, the low red roof of a house detached itself. by this time the sun was sinking in a smear of red across a delicately tinted sky. its dying rays held some glittering object high up on the side of the house. at first desmond thought it was a window, but presently the light went out, kindled again and once more vanished. it was too small for a window, desmond decided, and then, turning the matter over in his mind, as observant people are accustomed to do even with trifles, he suddenly realized that the light he had seen was the reflection of the sun on a telescope or glasses. they were now within a few hundred yards of the house. the road had made a right angle turn to the left, but the diminutive guide had quitted it and struck out along a very muddy cart track. shading his eyes, desmond gazed at the house and presently got a glimpse of a figure at a window surveying the road through a pair of field glasses. even as he looked, the figure bobbed down and did not reappear. "they want to be sure i'm alone," thought desmond, and congratulated himself on having had the strength of mind to break his orders. the cart-track led up to a little bridge over a ditch. by the bridge stood a tall pole, on the top of which was a blue and gold painted sign-board inscribed, "the dyke inn by j. rass." the urchin led him across the bridge and up to the door of the inn. an undersized, yellow-faced man, wearing neither collar nor tie, came to the door as they approached. although of short stature, he was immensely broad with singularly long arms. altogether he had something of the figure of a gorilla, desmond thought on looking at him. the man put a finger up and touched his forelock. "madame le bon is upstairs waiting for you!" he said in a nasal voice which desmond recognized as that he had heard on the telephone. "please to follow me!" he led the way across a long low tap-room through a door and past the open trap-door of a cellar to a staircase. on the first landing, lit by a window looking out on a dreary expanse of fen, he halted desmond. "that's her room," he said, pointing to a door opposite the head of the staircase, half a dozen steps up, and so saying, the yellow-faced man walked quickly downstairs and left him. desmond heard his feet echo on the staircase and the door of the tap-room slam. he hesitated a moment. what if this were a trap? suppose mortimer, growing suspicious, had made use of nur-el-din to lure him to an ambush in this lonely place? why the devil hadn't he brought a revolver with him? then desmond's irish blood came to his rescue. he gave his head a little shake, took a firm hold of his stick which was a stoutish sort of cudgel and striding boldly up to the door indicated, tapped. "entrez!" said a pretty voice that made desmond's heart flutter. chapter xvi. the star of poland the room in which desmond found nur-el-din was obviously the parlor of the house. everything in it spoke of that dreary period in art, the middle years of the reign of victoria the good. the wall-paper, much mildewed in places, was an ugly shade of green and there were dusty and faded red curtains at the windows and draping the fireplace. down one side of the room ran a hideous mahogany sideboard, almost as big as a railway station buffet, with a very dirty tablecloth. the chairs were of mahogany, upholstered in worn black horsehair and there were two pairs of fly-blown steel engravings of the largest size on the wall. in the centre of the apartment stood a small round table, covered with a much stained red tablecloth and there was a door in the corner. the dainty beauty of nur-el-din made a very forlorn picture amid the unmatched savagery of this english interior. the dancer, who was wearing the same becoming gray tweed suit in which desmond had last seen her, was sitting sorrowfully at the table when desmond entered. at the sight of him she sprang up and ran to meet him with outstretched hands. "ah!" she cried, "comme je suis heureuse de vous voir! it is good of you to come!" and then, without any warning, she burst into tears and putting her hands on the man's shoulders, hid her head against his chest and sobbed bitterly. desmond took one of her hands, small and soft and warm, and gently disengaged her. his mind was working clearly and rapidly. he felt sure of himself, sure of his disguise; if this were an exhibition of woman's wiles, it would find him proof; on that he was resolved. yet, dissolved in tears as she was, with her long lashes glistening and her mouth twitching pitifully, the dancer seemed to touch a chord deep down in his heart. "come, come," said desmond gutturally, with a touch of bonhomie in his voice in keeping with his ample girth, "you mustn't give way like this, my child! what's amiss? come, sit down here and tell me what's the matter." he made her resume her seat by the table and pulled up one of the horsehair chairs for himself. nur-el-din wiped her eyes on a tiny lace handkerchief, but continued to sob and shudder at intervals. "marie, my maid," she said in french in a broken voice, "joined me here to-day. she has told me of this dreadful murder!" desmond stiffened to attention. his mind swiftly reverted to the last woman he had seen cry, to barbara mackwayte discovering the loss of the package entrusted to her charge by the woman who sat before him. "what murder?" he asked, striving to banish any trace of interest from his voice. he loathed the part he had to play. the dancer's distress struck him as genuine. "the murder of monsieur mackwayte," said nur-el-din, and her tears broke forth anew. "i have read of this in the newspapers," said desmond. "i remember you told me he was a friend of yours." briefly, with many sobs, the dancer told him of the silver box which she had entrusted to barbara mackwayte's charge. "and now," she sobbed, "it is lost and all my sacrifice, all my precautions, have been in vain!" "but how?" asked desmond. "why should you think this box should have been taken? from what i remember reading of this case in the english newspapers there was a burglary at the house, but the thief has been arrested and the property restored. you have only to ask this miss--what was the name? ah! yes, mackwayte for your box and she will restore it!" "no, no!" nur-el-din answered wearily, "you don't understand. this was no burglary. the man who murdered monsieur arthur murdered him to get my silver box." "but," objected desmond, "a silver box! what value has a trifling object like that? my dear young lady, murder is not done for a silver box!" "no, no," nur-el-din repeated, "you don't understand! you don't know what that box contained!" then she relapsed into silence, plucking idly at the shred of cambric she held between her fingers. already dusk was falling and the room was full of shadows. the golden radiance of the afternoon had died and eerie wraiths of fog were peering-in at the window. desmond held his peace. he felt he was on the threshold of a confession that might rend the veil of mystery surrounding the murder at seven kings. he stared fixedly at the ugly red tablecloth, conscious that the big eyes of the girl were searching his face. "you have honest eyes," she said presently. "i told you that once before... that night we met at your house... do you remember? your eyes are english. but you are a german, hein?" "my mother was irish," said desmond and felt a momentary relief that, for once, he had been able to speak the truth. "i want a friend," the girl resumed wearily, "someone that i can trust. but i look around and i find no one. you serve the german empire, do you not?" desmond bowed. "but not the house of hohenzollern?" the girl cried, her voice trembling with passion. "i am not of the emperor's personal service, if that is what you mean, madame," desmond returned coldly. "then, since you are not altogether an iron prussian," nur-el-din resumed eagerly, "you can differentiate. you can understand that there is a difference between working for the cause of germany and for the personal business of her princes." "but certainly," answered desmond, "i am not an errand boy nor yet a detective. i regard myself as a german officer doing his duty on the front. we have many fronts besides the western and the eastern. england is one. "ah," exclaimed the girl, clasping her hands together and looking at him with enraptured eyes, "i see you understand! my friend, i am much tempted to make a confidant of you!" desmond looked at her but did not speak. again he felt that silence was now his only role. he tried hard to fix his mind on his duty; but the man in him was occupied with the woman who looked so appealingly at him. "... but if i do," the girl went on and her voice was hurried and anxious, "you must swear to me that you will respect my confidence, that you will not betray me to the others and that you will, if need be, protect me." seeing that desmond remained silent, she hastened to add: "believe me, what i ask you to do is not in opposition to your duty. my friend, for all my surroundings, i am not what i seem. fate has drawn me into the system of which you form part; but, believe me, i know nothing of the service to which you and mortimer and the rest belong!" she spoke with painful earnestness and in a tone so mournful that desmond felt himself profoundly moved. "if only she is not acting!" he thought, and sought to shake himself free from the spell which this girl seemed able to cast about him at will. "promise me that you will respect my confidence and help me!" she said and held out her hand. desmond's big hand closed about hers and he felt an odd thrill of sympathy with her as their hands met. "i promise!" he said and murmured to himself something very like a prayer that he might not be called upon to redeem his word. she let her eyes rest for a moment on his. "be careful!" she urged warningly, while the ghost of a smile flitted across her face. "very soon i may call upon you to make good your words!" "i promise!" he repeated--and his eyes never left hers. "then," she cried passionately, "find out who has stolen for the crown prince the star of poland at the price of the life of a harmless old man!" "the star of poland!" repeated desmond. "what is the star of poland?" the girl drew herself up proudly and there was a certain dignity about her manner as she answered. "i am a pole," she said, "and to us poles, the star of poland has stood for centuries as a pledge of the restoration of our long-lost kingdom. it was the principal jewel of the polish coronation sword which vanished many hundreds of years ago--in the thirteenth century, one of my compatriots once told me--and it was one of the most treasured national possessions in the chateau of our great king, john sobieski at villanoff, outside warsaw. my friend, i am not religious, and since my childhood i have renounced the ancient faith of my fathers, but, when i think of the extraordinary chain of circumstances by which this treasure came into my possession, i almost believe that god has chosen me to restore this gem to the king of an independent poland. "four years ago i was in the united states, a very humble dancer in vaudeville of the third or fourth class. when i was appearing at columbus, ohio, i met a german, a man who had been an officer in the prussian guard but had come to grief and had been forced to emigrate. "this man's name was hans von schornbeek. like so many german officers who go to america, in his time he had been everything--waiter, lift-man, engine-driver and heaven knows what else, but when i met him he was apparently well-off. it was only later on that i knew he was one of your principal secret agents in america. "he praised my talents highly and offered to furnish the capital to start me as an oriental dancer with a large company of my own. there was only one condition attaching to his offer, a condition, ma foi! which was not disagreeable to me. it was that, after six months tour in the states and canada, i should go to brussels and settle down there in a house that herr von schornbeek would present me with. "mon ami, in those days, i understood nothing at all of diplomacy. i knew only that i was often hungry and that i had a little talent which, were it given a chance, might keep me from want. herr von schornbeek fulfilled his promises to me. i had my company, i did my tour of america and canada with great success and finally i came to europe and made my debut at brussels. "i knew brussels already from the old days. as a half-starved, unhappy child with a troupe of acrobats, i had often appeared there. but now i came to brussels as a conqueror. a beautiful villa in the suburb of laeken was ready to receive me and i found that a large credit had been opened in my name at one of the principal banks so that i could keep open house. "i think i scarcely realized then the role that i was destined to fill by the german secret service. in all my life before, i had never been happy, i had never ceased to struggle for my bare existence, i had never had pretty clothes to wear, and motor-cars and servants of my own." she paused and glanced around her. the room was almost dark; the fog outside hung like a veil before the window. "light the lamp!" she begged, "i do not like the dark!" desmond struck a match and kindled an oil lamp, which stood on the sideboard. "ah! my friend," the girl resumed. "i took my fill of life with both hands. the year was . now i know that i was one of the german agents for the penetration of belgium in preparation of what was coming. my mission was to make friends among the belgians and the french and the cosmopolitan society of brussels generally, and invite them to my house where your people were waiting to deal with them. "my pretty villa became the rendezvous for half the rascals of europe, men and women, who used to meet there with all kinds of mysterious germans. sometimes there was a scandal. once a belgian colonel was found shot in the billiard-room; they said it was suicide and the thing was hushed up, but dame! now that i know what i know... "enfin! i shut my eyes to it all... it was none of my business... and i revelled in my robes, my dancing, my new life of luxury! "and then the war came. i was at laeken, resting after a visit to rome. there was a lot of talk about the war amongst the people who came to my house, but i did not see how it could affect me, an artiste, and i never read the newspapers. my german friends assured me that, in a little while, the german army would be at brussels; that, if i remained quietly at home, all would be well. they were very elated and confident, these german friends of mine. and rightly; for within a few weeks the germans entered the city and a general quartered himself in my villa. it was he who brought the crown prince to see me. "mon cher, you know this young man and his reputation. i am not excusing myself; but all my life had been spent up to then in the bas-fonds of society. i had never known what it was to be courted and admired by one who had the world at his feet. parbleu! one does not meet a future emperor every day! "enfin! the prince carried me with him back to metz, where he had his headquarters. he was very epris with me, but you know his temperament! no woman can hold him for more than a few weeks, vain and weak and arrogant as he is. but pardon! i was forgetting that you are a good german. i fear i offend your susceptibilities..." desmond laughed drily. "madame," he said, "i hope i have preserved sufficient liberty of judgment to have formed my own opinion about our future sovereign. most germans have..." "alors," she broke in fiercely, her voice shaking with passion, "you know what an ignoble canaille is this young man, without even enough decency of feeling to respect the troops of whom he has demanded such bloody sacrifices. at metz we were near enough to the fighting to realize the blood and tears of this war. but the prince thought of nothing, but his own amusement. to live as he did, within sound of the guns, with parties every night, women and dancing and roulette and champagne suppers--bah! c'etait trop fort! it awakened in me the love of country which lies dormant in all of us. i wanted to help my country, lest i might sink as low as he..." "one day the prince brought a young officer friend of his to dine with me. this officer had come from the eastern front and had been present at the capture of warsaw. after dinner he took a leather case out of his pocket and said to the prince: 'i have brought your imperial highness a little souvenir from poland!' as he spoke he touched a spring and the case flew open, displaying an enormous diamond, nearly as big as the great orloff diamond which i have seen at petrograd, surrounded by five other brilliants, the whole set like a star. "'the star of poland,' said the young officer (the prince called him 'erich;' i never heard his full name), 'it comes from the long-lost coronation sword of the polish kings. i took it for your imperial highness from the chateau of john sobieski at villanoff. "i could not take my eyes off the gem. as the prince held it down under the lamp to study it, it shone like an electric light. i had met many of my fellow countrymen in america and i had often heard of this jewel, famous in our unhappy history. "the prince, who was gay with champagne, laughed and said: "'these lousy poles will have no further use for this pretty trinket, thanks to our stout german blows, will they, erich?' "and his friend replied: "'we'll give them a nice new german constitution instead, your imperial highness!' "the prince, as i have said, was very merry that night. he let me take the jewel from its case and hold it in my hands. then i fastened it in my hair before the mirror and turned to show myself to the prince and his companion. "'donnerwetter! said willie. 'it looks wonderful in your hair, marcelle!' "then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he cried: "'erich! what do you say, marcelle is a pole. she shall have the star of poland and wear it in memory of me!' "the other thought this a famous idea, and so the jewel passed into my hands. that same evening i resolved that it should be a sacred duty on my part to keep it in safety until i could hand it back to the lawful sovereign of an independent poland. "i was very unhappy at metz until the star of poland came to comfort me. when i was alone, i used to take it from its case and feast my eyes upon it. i made many attempts to get away, but the prince would never let me go, though he had long since tired of me and i was merely one of his harem of women. pfui!" she gave an exclamation of disgust. "it was the crown princess who eventually came to my rescue," she continued. "long-suffering wife as she is, the stories that came to her ears from metz were such that she went to the emperor and declared that she would insist upon a divorce. there was a great scandal. the prince's headquarters were moved and at length i got my release. "i had no money. this was a detail which the prince overlooked. but i wanted to resume my stage work, so, with great difficulty, through the influence of the prince, i obtained a passport to holland and from there got across to england. "i had hoped to turn my back once and for all on my connection with the prince. but your german secret service had been warned about me. the imperial authorities were obviously afraid that i might tell tales out of school. scarcely had i arrived in london when a man who called himself bryan mowbury, but who looked and spoke like a german, came to see me and said he had been instructed to 'look after me.' what that meant, i was soon to discover. in a very few days i found that i was under the supervision of your secret service here. in fact, mowbury gave me to understand that any indiscretion on my part as to my stay at metz would result in my immediate denunciation to the english police as a spy. "my friend, i had no alternative. i am not german; i am not english; i am a pole. i have good friends in germany, i have good friends in england, and their quarrels are not mine. i held my peace about the past and submitted to the incessant watch which mowbury and his friends kept on my movements. "and then one day i had a letter. it was from count plettenbach, the crown prince's aide-de-camp, as i knew by the hand-writing, for it was signed with an assumed name. in this letter the count, 'on behalf of a mutual friend,' as he put it, requested me to hand back to a certain mr. mortimer, his accredited representative, 'erich's present.' there were cogent reasons, it was added, for this unusual request. "i sent no reply to that letter, although an address in switzerland was given to which an answer might be despatched. i was resolved, come what may, not to part with the star of poland. when mortimer came, five days later, i told him the jewel was not mine to hand over, that it was part of the regalia of poland and that i would never give it up. "mortimer replied that the german and austrian governments had decided to restore the independence of poland, that probably an austrian archduke would be made king and that it was essential that the star of poland should be restored in order to include it in the regalia for the coronation. but i knew what this austro-german kingdom of poland was to be, a serf state with not a shadow of that liberty for which every pole is longing. since i have been in england, i have kept in touch with the polish political organizations in this country. rass, as he calls himself, the landlord of this inn, is one of the most prominent of the polish leaders in england. "mortimer reasoned with me in vain and finally went away empty-handed. but he did not abandon hope. four successive attempts were made to get the jewel away from me. twice my apartments at the nineveh hotel were rifled; once my dressing-room at the theatre was entered and searched whilst i was on the stage. but i wore the jewel day and night in a little bag suspended by a chain from my neck and they never got it from me. "two days before i came down to your house--it was the day before the murder--i was hustled by a group of men as i came out of the theatre. fortunately the stage-door keeper came up unexpectedly and the men made off. but the encounter frightened me, and i resolved to break my contract with the palaceum and bury myself down here in the country. "but somehow mortimer learnt of my intention. the next night--it was the night of the murder--he came to the theatre and warned me against trying to elude his vigilance by flight. i have never forgotten his words. "'i can afford to wait,' he said, 'for i shall get what i want: i always do. but you have chosen to set yourself against me and you will bitterly repent it!" as though the recollection proved too much for her, nur-el-din broke off her narrative and covered her face with her hands. "and do you think that mortimer did this murder?" asked desmond gently. wearily the girl raised her head. "either he or one of his accomplices, of whom this girl is one!" she answered. "but why not have put the jewel in a bank or one of the safe deposits? surely it was risky to have entrusted it to a girl of whom you knew nothing?" "my friend,", said the dancer, "i was desperate. mortimer sees and knows all. this unexpected meeting with the daughter of my old friend seemed at the moment like a heaven-sent chance to place the jewel, unknown to him, in safe hands. i felt that as long as i carried it on me, my life was in constant danger. it was only to-day, when i heard of the murder, that it dawned on me how indiscreet i had been. i might have guessed, since miss mackwayte knew mortimer--" "miss mackwayte knows mortimer?" echoed desmond in stupefaction. "but certainly," replied nur-el-din. "was it not i myself--" she broke off suddenly with terror in her eyes. "ah, no!" she whispered. "it is enough. already i have said too much..." desmond was about to speak when the door opened and a foreign-looking maid, whom desmond remembered to have seen in the dancer's dressing-room, came in. she went swiftly to her mistress and whispered something in her ear. the dancer sprang to her feet. "a little moment... you will excuse me..." she cried to desmond and ran from the room. the maid followed her, leaving desmond alone. presently, the sound of nur-el-din's voice raised high in anger struck on his ears. he stole softly to the door and opened it. before him lay the staircase deserted. he tiptoed down the stairs to the first landing and listened. the murmur of voices reached him indistinctly from the room below. then he heard nur-el-din crying out again in anger. he craned his ear over the well of the staircase, turning his face to the window which stood on the landing. the window gave on a small yard with a gate over which a lamp was suspended and beyond it the fen now swathed in fog. the dancer's maid stood beneath the lamp in earnest conversation with a man in rough shooting clothes who held a gun under his arm. as desmond looked the man turned his head so that the rays of the lamp fell full upon his face. to his unspeakable consternation and amazement, desmond recognized strangwise. chapter xvii. mr. bellward arranges a bridge evening oblivious of the voices in the room below, desmond stood with his face pressed against the glass of the window. was strangwise staying at "the dyke inn"? nothing was more probable; for the latter had told him that he was going to spend his leave shooting in essex, and morstead fen must abound in snipe and duck. but he and strangwise must not meet. desmond was chary of submitting his disguise to the other's keen, shrewd eyes. strangwise knew nur-el-din: indeed, the dancer might have come to the inn to be with him. if he recognized desmond and imparted his suspicions to the dancer, the game world be up; on the other hand, desmond could not take him aside and disclose his identity; for that would be breaking faith with the chief. there was nothing for it, he decided, but flight. yet how could he get away unobserved? there was no exit from the staircase by the door into the tap-room where nur-el-din was, and to go through the tap-room was to risk coming face to face with strangwise. so desmond remained where he was by the window and watched. presently, the woman turned and began to cross the yard, strangwise, carrying his gun, following her. desmond waited until he heard a door open somewhere below and then he acted. beside the window ran an old lead water-pipe which drained the roof above his head. on a level with the sill of the landing below, this pipe took a sharp turn to the left and ran diagonally down to a tall covered-in water-butt that stood on the flat roof of an outhouse in the little yard. desmond raised the window very gently and tested the pipe with his hand. it seemed rather insecure and shook under his pressure. with his eye he measured the distance from the sill to the pipe; it was about four feet. desmond reckoned that, if the pipe would hold, by getting out of the window and hanging on to the sill, he might, by a pendulum-like motion, gain sufficient impulse to swing his legs across the diagonally-running pipe, then transfer his hands and so slide down to the outhouse roof. he wasted no time in debating the chances of the pipe collapsing under his weight. all his life it had been his practice to take a risk, for such is the irish temperament--if the object to be attained in any way justified it; and he was determined to avoid at all costs the chance of a meeting with strangwise. the latter had probably read the name of okewood in that morning's casualty list, but desmond felt more than ever that he distrusted the man, and his continued presence in the neighborhood of nur-el-din gravely preoccupied him. he stood a moment by the open window and listened. the murmur of voices went on in the taproom, but from another part of the house he heard a deep laugh and knew it to be strangwise's. trusting to providence that the roof of the outhouse would be out of sight of the yard door, desmond swung his right leg over the window-sill and followed it with the other, turning his back on the yard. the next moment he was dangling over the side of the house. then from the yard below he heard strangwise call: "rufus! rufus!" a heavy footstep sounded on the flags. desmond remained perfectly still. the strain on his arms was tremendous. if strangwise should go as far as the gate, so as to get clear of the yard, he must infallibly see that figure clinging to the window-sill. "where the devil is that doggy" said strangwise. then he whistled, and called again: "rufus! rufus!" desmond made a supreme effort to support the strain on his muscles. the veins stood out at his temples and he felt the blood singing in his ears. another minute and he knew he must drop. he no longer had the power to swing himself up to the window ledge again. a bark rang out in the courtyard, followed by the patter of feet. desmond heard strangwise speak to the dog and reenter the house. then silence fell again. with a tremendous effort desmond swung his legs athwart the pipe, gripped it with his right hand, then his left, and very gently commenced to let himself down. the pipe quivered beneath his weight, but it held fast and in a minute he was standing on the roof of the outhouse, cautiously peering through the dank fog that hung about the yard. screening himself from view behind the tall waterbutt, he reconnoitred the back of the inn. the upper part of the house was shrouded in darkness, but a broad beam of light from a half-open door and a tall window on the ground floor cleft the pall of fog. the window showed a snug little bar with strangwise standing by the counter, a glass in his hand. as desmond watched him, he heard a muffled scream from somewhere within the house. strangwise heard it too, for desmond saw him put his glass down on the bar and raise his head sharply. there followed a dull crash from the interior of the inn and the next moment the yellow-faced man, whom desmond judged to be rass, stepped into the circle of light inside the window. he said something to strangwise with thumb jerked behind him, whereupon the latter clapped him, as though in approval, on the shoulder, and both hurried out together. puzzled though he was by the scene he had just witnessed, desmond did not dare to tarry longer. the roof of the outhouse was only some ten feet from the ground, an easy drop. he let himself noiselessly down and landing on his feet without mishap, darted out of the yard gate. as he did so, he heard the inn door open and strangwise's voice cry out: "who's that?" but desmond heeded not. he dashed out upon the fen. before he had gone a dozen paces the fog had swallowed up inn and all. out of the white pall behind him he heard confused shouts as he skirted swiftly round the house and reached the road. once he had gained the freedom of the highway; desmond breathed again. the dense fog that enveloped him, the hard road beneath his feet, gave him a sense of security that he had missed as long as he was in the atmosphere of that lonely, sinister place. he struck out at a good pace for home, intent upon one thing, namely, to send an immediate summons for help to surround the dyke inn and all within it. nur-el-din, it was clear, whether a spy or no (and desmond believed her story), was the only person who could throw any light on the mysterious circumstances surrounding old mackwayte's murder. besides, her arrest would safeguard her against further machinations on the part of mortimer, though desmond suspected that the latter, now that he had secured the jewel, would leave the dancer in peace. as for strangwise, it would be for him to explain as best he could his continued association with a woman for whose arrest a warrant had been issued. desmond let himself in with his key. the housekeeper had returned and was laying the dinner-table. in the library the curtains were drawn and a fire burned brightly in the grate. the room looked very snug and cosy by contrast with the raw weather outside. desmond shut and locked the door and then went to the telephone at the desk. "ring up stanning"--he repeated his instructions to himself "and ask for mr. elias. assistance'll be with you within fifteen minutes afterwards." by the clock on the mantelpiece it was a quarter to seven. if aid arrived promptly, with a car they could be at the dyke inn by a quarter past seven. the telephone gave no sign of life. desmond impatiently jerked the receiver hook up and down. this time, at least, he would not fail, he told himself. before he went to bed that night nur-el-din, her maid, rass, and if needs be, strangwise (who needed a lesson to teach him discretion), should be in custody. still no reply. "hullo! hullo!" cried desmond, depressing the hook repeatedly. "hullo, exchange!" but there was no answer. then it struck desmond that the line was dead: his ear detected none of that busy whirr which is heard in the telephone when one is waiting to get a number. he spent five minutes in vain attempts to obtain a reply, then abandoned the endeavor in disgust. "i shall have to take the motor-bike and go over to stunning," he said to himself, "how i shall find my way there in this fog, the lord only knows! and i don't know whom to apply to when i get there. the police-station, i suppose!" he unlocked the door and rang for martha. "i have to go over to stunning, martha," he said, "i will try and be back for dinner at eight!" he had no intention of accompanying the party to the dyke inn. he must preserve his incognito until mortimer, the main quarry, had been run down. he filled his case from the box of cigarettes on the table and thrust a box of matches into his pocket to light his head-lamp. then, taking a cap from the hat-stand, he opened the front door. even as he did so a big open car slowed down throbbing outside the porch. a man sprang out and advanced into the light streaming from the front door into the eddying mist. it was mortimer. "fortune," thought desmond, "has broken her rule. she has given me a second chance!" "well met, bellward!" cried mortimer, blinking at the other through his thick glasses. "tut, tut! what a night! you were never going out, i swear." already desmond had decided in his mind the course of action he would pursue. for the moment he must let the party at the dyke inn slide in favor of the bigger catch. he must slip away later and have another try at the telephone and if it were still out of order, he must endeavor to overpower mortimer and then go for assistance himself. on a night like this it was useless to think of employing a half-blind old dolt like martha to take a message. as for the odd man, he lived at wakefield, and went away at dusk every evening. so desmond muttered some plausible lie about wanting to have a look at the weather and cordially invited mortimer in. "you will stay for dinner" he said. "gladly," replied the other, sinking with aunt into the settee. "and i should be glad if we might dine early." desmond raised his eyebrows. "... because," mortimer resumed, "i have ventured to ask a few friends round here to... to have an evening at bridge. doubtless, you have cards, eh?" desmond pointed to a card-table standing in the corner with several packs of cards and markers. then he rang and told the housekeeper that they would dine as soon as possible. "the coming fortnight," said mortimer, tucking his napkin into his collar as they sat at the dinner table, "is pregnant with great events. no less than ten divisions are, i understand, to be transferred to the other side. i have waited to communicate with you until i had confirmation of this report. but now that the matter has been decided, it only remains for us to perfect our arrangements for communicating these plans to our friends beyond the north sea. therefore, i thought a friendly bridge evening at the hospitable home of our dear colleague bellward would be in place." he smiled affably and bent over his soup-plate. "i shall be delighted to receive our friends," desmond replied, "a glass of sherry?" "thank you," said mortimer. "i shall have to provide a few refreshments," said desmond. "may i ask how many guests i may expect?" mortimer reckoned on his fingers. "let's see," he answered, "there's max, that's one, and madame malplaquet, that's two. no. and behrend makes four and myself, five!" "and madame nur-el-din?" queried desmond innocently, but inwardly quaking at his rashness. mortimer genially shook a finger at him. "sly dog!" he chuckled, "you're one too many for me in that quarter, i see! i know all about your tete-a-tete with our charming young friend this afternoon!" desmond felt the blood rush to his face. he thought of nur-el-din's words: "mortimer sees and knows all." he picked up his sherry glass and drained it to cover his confusion. "... it was hardly gallant of you to bolt so suddenly and leave the lady!" mortimer added. how much did this uncanny creature know? without waiting for him to reply, mortimer went on. "i suppose she told you a long story of my persecution, eh, bellward? you needn't shake your head. i taxed her with it and she admitted as much." "i had no idea that you were staying at the dyke inn!" said desmond at a venture. "my friend," replied mortimer, lowering his voice, "your fair charmer is showing a decided inclination to make a nuisance of herself. i have had to keep an eye on her. it's been a very serious inconvenience to my plans, i can assure you. but you haven't answered my question. what sent you away in such a hurry this afternoon? and in so romantic a fashion? by the window, was it not?" through sheer apprehension, desmond was now keyed up to a kind of desperate audacity. the truth is sometimes a very effective weapon in the game of bluff, and desmond determined to employ it. "i saw someone i didn't want to meet," he replied. "ah!" said mortimer, "who was that, i wonder? the dyke inn could hardly be described as a frequented resort, i imagine!" the entry of old martha to change the plates prevented desmond from replying. he used the brief respite to review the situation. he would tell mortimer the truth. they were man to man now and he cared nothing even if the other should discover the fraud that had been practised upon him. come what might, mortimer, dead or alive, should be delivered up to justice that night. the housekeeper left the room and desmond spoke. "i saw an officer i knew in the courtyard," he said. "oh, strangwise, i suppose!" said mortimer carelessly. "there's nothing to fear from him, bellward. he's of the beef and beer and no brains stamp of british officer. but how do you know strangwise?" "i met him at the nineveh hotel in town one night," replied desmond. "i don't care about meeting officers, however, and that's a fact!" mortimer looked at him keenly for a brief instant. "what prudence!" he cried. "bellward, you are the very model of what a secret agent should be! this pheasant is delicious!" he turned the conversation into a different channel but desmond could not forget that brief searching look. his mind was in a turmoil of half-digested facts, of semi-completed deductions. he wanted to go away somewhere alone and think out this mystery and disentangle each separate web of this baffling skein of intrigue. he must focus his attention on mortimer and nur-el-din. if mortimer and strangwise were both staying at the dyke inn, then they were probably acquainted. strangwise knew nur-el-din, too, knew her well; for desmond remembered how familiarly they had conversed together that night in the dancer's dressing-room at the palaceum. strangwise knew barbara mackwayte also. nur-el-din had introduced them, desmond remembered, on that fateful night when he had accompanied strangwise to the palaceum. strange, how he was beginning to encounter the man strangwise at every turn in this sinister affair. and then, with a shock that struck him like a blow in the face, desmond recalled barbara's parting words to him in the taxi. he remembered how she had told him of seeing nur-el-din's face in the mirror as the dancer was talking to strangwise that night at the palaceum, and of the look of terror in the girl's eyes. nur-el-din was terrified of mortimer; for so much she had admitted to desmond that very afternoon; she was terrified of strangwise, too, it seemed, of this strangwise who, like mortimer, kept appearing at every stage of this bewildering affair. what confession had been on nur-el-din's lips when she had broken off that afternoon with the cry: "already i have said too much!" thereafter desmond's eyes were never long absent from mortimer's face, scrutinizing each feature in turn, the eyes, set rather close together, grotesquely shielded by the thick spectacles, the narrow cheeks, the rather cynical mouth half hidden by the heavy, drooping moustache, the broad forehead broken by a long lock of dark hair brushed out flat in a downward direction from an untidy, unkempt crop. they talked no more of strangwise or of nur-el-din. the rest of dinner was passed in conversation of a general order in which mr. mortimer showed himself to great advantage. he appeared to be a widely traveled, well-read man, with a fund of dry, often rather grim humor. and all the time desmond watched, watched, unobtrusively but unceasingly, looking out for something he was confident of detecting through the suave, immobile mask of this brilliant conversationalist. skillfully, almost imperceptibly, desmond edged the talk on to the war. in this domain, too, mortimer showed himself a man of broad views, of big, comprehensive ideas. towards the strategy and tactics of the two sides, he adopted the attitude of an impartial onlooker, but in his comments he proved himself to have a thorough grasp of the military situation. he talked freely and ably of such things as tanks, the limited objective in the attack and the decentralization of responsibility in the field. encouraged by his volubility, for he was a man who delighted in conversation, desmond gradually gave the talk a personal turn. but willing as mortimer showed himself to discuss the war generally, about his personal share he was as mute as a fish. try as he would desmond could get nothing out of him. again and again, he brought the conversation round to personal topics; but every time his companion contrived to switch it back to general lines. at last desmond risked a direct question. by this time a pint of pommery and greno was tingling in his veins and he felt he didn't care if the roof fell in. "ever since nur-el-din told me you were of the crown prince's personal service," he said, "i have been devoured with curiosity to know what you were doing before you came to england. were you at metz with his imperial highness? did you see the assault at verdun? were you present at the capture of the fort of douaumont?" mortimer shook his head, laughing, and held up a deprecating hand. "professional discretion, my dear fellow, professional discretion!" he retorted. "you know what it is!" then lowering his voice, he added: "between ourselves the less said about my connection with master willie the better. our colleagues are already restless at what they consider my neglect of my professional work. they attribute it to the wiles of nur-el-din. they may if they like and i don't propose to disillusion them. you understand, bellward?" his voice was commanding and he bent his brows at desmond, who hastened to protest that his discretion in the matter would be absolute. when they had had their coffee and mortimer was contentedly puffing one of bellward's excellent double coronas, desmond rose from the table. "if you will excuse me a minute," he said, "i will just go across to the library and see if my housekeeper has put all in order for our guests!" instantly mortimer got up from the table. "by all means," he said, and emptied his glass of brandy, "so, i will come with you!" mortimer meant to stick to him, thought desmond; that was evident. then an idea struck him. why should he not telephone in mortimer's presence? to ask for mr. elias was in no way incriminating and if help came promptly, mortimer could be secured and the other spies pounced upon in their turn as they arrived. therefore, as soon as they reached the library, desmond walked over to the desk and picked up the telephone receiver from its hook. "excuse me," he said to mortimer, "i had forgotten i had to ring up stanning!" "oh, dear," said mortimer from his place on the hearth rug where he was warming his coat tails in front of the fire, "isn't that unfortunate? i wish i had known! tut, tut, how annoying for you!" the telephone seemed quite dead. "i don't understand!" said desmond to mortimer. "what's annoying?" "the telephone, my dear bellward,"--mortimer spoke in a pompous voice--"the telephone is the symbol of the age in which we live, the age of publicity but also of indiscretion. it is almost as indiscreet to have a telephone in your house as to keep a diary. therefore, in view of our little party here this evening, to prevent us from being disturbed in any way, i took the liberty of... of severing the connection... temporarily, mind you, only temporarily; it shall be restored as soon as we break up. i have some small acquaintance with electrical engineering." desmond was silent. disappointment had deprived him for the moment of the power of speech. it was to be man to man then, after all. if he was to secure mortimer and the rest of the gang that night, he must do it on his own. he could not hope for aid. the prospect did not affright him. if mortimer could have seen the other's eyes at that moment he might have remarked a light dancing in them that was not solely of messrs. pommery and greno's manufacture. "if i had known you wanted to use the instrument, my dear fellow," mortimer continued in his bland voice, "i should certainly have waited until you had done your business!" "pray don't mention it," replied desmond, "you do well to be prudent, mr. mortimer!" mortimer shot a sudden glance at him. desmond met it with a frank, easy smile. "i'm a devil for prudence myself!" he observed brightly. chapter xviii. the gathering of the spies action, or the promise of action, always acted on desmond okewood like a nerve tonic. his visit to the inn, followed by the fencing with mortimer at dinner, had galvanized his nerves jaded with the inaction of the preceding days. he averted his eyes from the future, he put the past resolutely away. he bent his whole attention on the problem immediately before him--how to carry off the role of bellward in front of four strangers, one of whom, at least, he thought, must know the man he was impersonating; how to extract as much information as possible about the gang and its organization before uncovering his hand; finally, how to overpower the four men and the one woman when the moment had come to strike. mortimer and he were in the library. by desmond's direction old martha had put out two bridge tables and cards. a tantalus stand with siphons and glasses, an assortment of different colored liqueurs in handsome cut-glass carafes and some plates of sandwiches stood on a side-table. at mortimer's suggestion desmond had told the housekeeper that, once the guests had arrived, she might go to bed. the library was very still. there was no sound except for the solemn ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece or the occasional rustle of the evening paper in mortimer's hand as he stood in front of the fire. desmond was sitting on the settee, tranquilly smoking, studying mortimer and thinking out the problem before him. he measured mortimer with his eye. the latter was a bigger man than desmond in every way and desmond suspected that he was even stronger than he looked. desmond wondered whether he should try and overpower him then and there. the other was almost certain to carry a revolver, he thought, while he was unarmed. failure, he knew, would ruin everything. the gang would disperse to the four winds of heaven while as for mr. bellward--well, he would certainly be "for it," as the soldiers say. no, he must hold his hand until the meeting had taken place. this was the first conference that mortimer had summoned, and desmond intended to see that it should be the last. but first he meant to find out all there was to know about the working of the gang. he resolved to wait and see what the evening would bring forth. the telephone was "a washout": the motor-cycle was now his only chance to summon aid for he knew it was hopeless to think of tackling single-handed odds of four to one (to say nothing of the lady in the case). it must be his business to make an opportunity to slip away on the motor-bike to stanning. ten minutes to get there, five minutes to deliver his message at the police station (if the chief's people made their headquarters there), and ten minutes to get back if they had a car. could he leave the meeting for minutes without arousing suspicions? he doubted it; but it must be. there was no other way. and then with a shock that made him cold with fear he remembered mortimer's motor-car. if, during his absence, anything occurred to arouse their suspicions, the whole crowd could pile into the car and be away long before desmond could be back with help. the fog had lifted and it was a clear night outside. the car would have to be got rid of before he left the house, that was all about it. but how? a means to that end must also be discovered as the evening progressed. by the way, what had mortimer done with his car? a very faint throbbing somewhere outside answered desmond's unspoken question. mortimer flung aside his paper. "isn't that a car?" he asked, "that'll be they. i sent max to wentfield station to meet our friends!" there was the sound of voices, of bustle in the hall. then the door opened and a man came in. desmond had a brief moment of acute suspense. was he supposed to know him? he was a short, ugly fellow with immensely broad shoulders, a heavy puffy face, a gross, broad nose, and a tooth-brush moustache. he might have been a butcher to look at. in the top edge of his coat lapel, he wore a small black pin with a glass head. "well, max," said mortimer. "have you brought them all?" the man was mustering desmond with a suspicious, unfriendly stare. "my friend, bellward!" said mortimer, clapping desmond on the shoulder. "you've heard of bellward, max!" and to desmond's surprise he made some passes in the air. the man's mien underwent a curious change. he became cringing; almost overawed. "reelly," he grunted, "reelly now! you don't siy! glad to know yer, mister, i'm shore!" he spoke with a vile snuffing cockney accent, and thrust out his hand to desmond. then he added to mortimer: "there's three on 'em. that's the count, ain't it? i lef' the car outside on the drive!" at this moment two more of the guests entered: one was a tall, emaciated looking man of about fifty who seemed to be in the last stages of consumption; the other a slightly built young fellow with a shock of black hair brushed back and an olive complexion. he wore pince-nez and looked like a russian revolutionary. they, too, wore the badge of the brotherhood--the black pin in the coat lapel. "goot efening, mr. mortimer," said the tall man in a guttural voice, "this is behrend"--he indicated the young man by his side--"you haft not meet him no?" then, leaving behrend to shake hands with mortimer, he literally rushed at desmond and shook him by the hand exactly as though he were working a pump handle. "my tear pellward," he cried, "it is a hondred year since i haf see you, not? and how are the powers!" he lowered his voice and gazed mysteriously at him. desmond, at a loss what to make of this extraordinary individual, answered at random: "the powers? still fighting, i believe!" the tall man stared open-mouthed at him for a moment. then, clapping his hands together, he burst into a high-pitched cackle of laughter. "a joke," he yelled, "a mos' excellent joke! i must tell this to minna. my vriend, i haf not mean the great powers." he looked dramatically about him, then whispered: "i mean, the oggult!" desmond, who was now quite out of his depth, wagged his head solemnly at the other as though to indicate that, his occult powers were something not to be lightly mentioned. he had no fear of the tall man, at any rate. he placed him as a very ordinary german, a common type in the fatherland, simple-minded, pedantic, inquisitive, and a prodigious bore withal but dangerous, for of this stuff german discipline kneads militarists. but the door opened again to admit the last of the guests. a woman entered. desmond was immediately struck by the contrast she presented to the others, mortimer with his goggle eyes and untidy hair, max, gross and bestial, behrend, oriental and shifty, and the scarecrow figure of the tall man. despite her age, which must have been nearly sixty, she still retained traces of beauty. her features were very regular, and she had a pair of piercing black eyes of undimmed brightness. her gray hair was tastefully arranged, and she wore a becoming black velvet gown with a black lace scarf thrown across the shoulders. a white silk rose was fastened to her bodice by a large black pin with a glass head. directly she appeared, the tall man shouted to her in german. "sag' mal, minna..." he began. mortimer turned on him savagely. "hold your tongue, no. ," he cried, "are you mad? what the devil do you mean by it? you know the rules!" by way of reply, "no. " broke into a regular frenzy of coughing which left him gasping for breath. "pardon! i haf' forgot!" he wheezed out between the spasms. the woman went over to mortimer and put out tier gloved hand. "i am mrs. malplaquet," she said in a pleasant voice. "and you are mr. mortimer, i think!" mortimer bowed low over her hand. "madame, i am charmed to meet one of whom i have heard nothing but praise," he said. "verry pretty!" replied mrs. malplaquet smiling. "they tell me you have a great way with the ladies, my dear sir!" "but," she went on, "i am neglecting our host, my dear mr. bellward. how are you, my friend? how well you are looking... so young... so fresh! i declare you seem to have got five years younger!" the keen black eyes searched desmond's face. he felt horribly uncomfortable. the woman's eyes were like gimlets boring right into him. he suddenly felt that his disguise was a poor one. he remembered crook's warning to be wary of women, and he inwardly quailed. "i am so glad to meet you again!" he murmured. he didn't like mrs. malplaquet's eyes. they assorted strangely with the rest of her gentle and refined appearance. they were hard and cruel, those black eyes. thy put him in mind of a snake. "it is so long since i've seen you," she said, "that positively your voice seems to have changed." "that's because i have a cold," said desmond. "fiddlesticks!" retorted the lady, "the timbre is quite different! bellward, i believe you're in love! don't tell me you've been running after that hank of hair that mortimer is so devoted to!" she glanced in mortimer's direction, but that gentleman was engaged in earnest conversation with behrend and the tall man. "whom do you meant" asked desmond. "where are your eyes, man?" rapped out mrs. malplaquet. "the dancer woman, of course, nur-el-what-do-you-call-it. there's the devil of a row brewing about the way our friend over there is neglecting us to run after the minx. they're getting sharp in this country, bellward--i've lived here for forty years so i know what i'm talking about--and we can't afford to play any tricks. mortimer will finish by bringing destruction on every one of us. and i shall tell him so tonight. and so will no. ! and so will young behrend! you ought to hear behrend about it!" mrs. malplaquet began to interest desmond. she was obviously a woman of refinement, and he was surprised to find her in this odd company. by dint of careful questioning, he ascertained the fact that she lived in london, at a house on campden hill. she seemed to know a good many officers, particularly naval men. "i've been keeping my eyes open as i promised, bellward," she said, "and i believe i've got hold of a likely subject for you--a submarine commander he is, and very psychic. when will you come and meet him at my house?" mortimer's voice, rising above the buzz of conversation, checked his reply. "if you will all sit down," he said, "we'll get down to business." despite all distractions, desmond had been watching for this summons. he had marked down for himself a chair close to the door. for this he now made, after escorting mrs. malplaquet to the settee where she sat down beside behrend. max took the armchair on the left of the fireplace; while no. perched himself grotesquely on a high music-stool, his long legs curled round the foot. mortimer stood in his former position on the hearth, his back to the fire. a very odd-looking band! desmond commented to himself but he thought he could detect in each of the spies a certain ruthless fanaticism which experience taught him to respect as highly dangerous. and they all had hard eyes! when they were seated, mortimer said: "about the th of this month the british admiralty will begin the work of shipping to france ten divisions of american troops now training in this country. the most extraordinary precautions are being taken to complete this huge undertaking with success. it seems to me that the moment has come for us to demonstrate the efficiency of our new organization." he looked round at his audience but no one said a word. desmond felt very distinctly that there was a hostile atmosphere against mortimer in that room. "i asked you to come here to-night," mortimer went on, "to discuss the plans for sending prompt and accurate information regarding the movements of these transports to the other side. i warn you that this time our mode of procedure will have to be radically different from the methods we have pursued on former occasions. to expend our energies in collecting information at half a dozen different ports of war will be waste of time. the direction of the whole of this enterprise lies in the hands of one man at the admiralty." behrend, who had struck desmond as a rather taciturn young man, shook his head dubiously. "that makes things very difficult," he remarked. "wait," replied mortimer. "i agree, it is very difficult, the more so as i have reason to believe that the authorities have discovered the existence of our organization." mrs. malplaquet and behrend turned to one another simultaneously. "what did i say?" said behrend. "i told you so," said the lady. "therefore," mortimer resumed, "our former activities on the coast will practically be paralyzed. we shall have to confine our operations to london while max and mr. behrend here will be entrusted with the task of getting the news out to our submarines." no. broke in excitedly. "vork in london, vork in london!" he cried. "it is too dangerous, my vriend. vot do i know of london? portsmouth" (he called it portsmouse), "sout'ampton, the isle of vight... good... it is my province. but, london... it is senseless!" mortimer turned his gig-lamps on the interrupter. "you will take your orders from me as before," he said quietly. behrend adjusted his pince-nez. "no. is perfectly right," he remarked, "he knows his territory, and he should be allowed to work there." "you, too," mortimer observed in the same calm tone as before, "will take your orders from me!" with a quick gesture the young man dashed his long black hair out of his eyes. "maybe," he replied, "but only as long as i feel sure that your orders are worth following. "do you dare..." began mortimer, shouting. "... at present," the other continued, as though mortimer had not spoken. "i don't feel at all sure that they are." the atmosphere was getting a trifle heated, thought desmond. if he judged mortimer aright, he was not the man to let himself be dictated to by anybody. he was wondering how the scene would end when suddenly something caught his eye that took his mind right away from the events going forward in the room. opposite him, across the library, was a french window across which the curtains had been drawn. one of the curtains, however, had got looped up on a chair so that there was a gap at the bottom of the window showing the pane. in this gap was a face pressed up against the glass. to his astonishment desmond recognized the weather-beaten features of the odd man, mr. john hill. the face remained there only for a brief instant. the next moment it was gone and desmond's attention was once more claimed by the progress of the conference. "do i understand that you refuse to serve under me any longer?" mortimer was saying to behrend, who had risen from the settee and stood facing him. "as long as you continue to behave as you are doing at present," replied the other, "you may understand that!" mortimer made a quick dive for his pocket. in an instant max had jumped at him and caught his arm. "don't be a fool!" he cried, "for gawd's sake, put it away, carn't yer? d 'you want the 'ole ruddy plice abart our ears?" "i'll have no disobedience of orders," roared mortimer, struggling with the other. in his fist he had a big automatic pistol. it was a prodigious weapon, the largest pistol that desmond had ever seen. "he threatened him, he threatened him!" screamed no. jumping about on his stool. "take it away from him, max, for heaven's sake!" cried the lady. everybody was talking at once. the noise was so loud that desmond wondered whether old martha would hear the din. he sat in his chair by the door, a silent witness of the scene. then suddenly, at the height of the hubbub, he heard the faint humming of a motor-car. it lasted for perhaps thirty seconds, then gradually died away. "what did it mean?" he asked himself. the only living being he knew of outside was john hill, the odd man, whose face he had just seen; the only car was mortimer's. had the odd man gone off in mortimer's car? he was thankful to note that, in the din, none save him seemed to have heard the car. by this time mortimer had put up his pistol and mrs. malplaquet was speaking. her remarks were effective and very much to the point. she upbraided mortimer with his long and mysterious absences which she attributed to his infatuation for nur-el-din and complained bitterly of the dancer's imprudence in consorting openly with notorious folk like lazarro and bryan mowbury. "i went to the girl myself," she said, "and begged her to be more circumspect. but madame would not listen to advice; madame was doubtless sure of her position with our revered leader, and thought she could reject the friendly counsel of one old enough to be her mother. behrend and max and no. there--all of us--are absolutely agreed that we are not going on with this sort of thing any longer. if you are to remain in charge of our organization, mr. mortimer, we want to know where you are to be found and how you spend your time. in short, we want to be sure that you are not playing a game that most of us have at different times played on subordinate agents... i mean, that when the crisis comes, we fall into the trap and you walk away. you had better realize once and for all that we are too old hands for that sort of trick." here max took up the thread. "mrs. malplaquet had put it very strite, so she 'ad, and wot he wanted to know was what mortimer 'ad to siy?" mortimer was very suave in his reply; a bad sign, thought desmond, for it indicated that he was not sure of himself. he was rather vague, spoke about a vitally important mission that he had had to fulfil but which he had now brought to a successful conclusion, so that he was at length free to devote his whole attention once more to the great task in hand. behrend brought his fist crashing down on the arm of the settee. "words, words," he cried, "it won't do for me. isn't there a man in the room besides me? you, bellward, or you, max, or you, no. ? haven't you got any guts any of you? are you going to sit here and listen to the soft soap of a fellow who has probably sent better men than himself to their death with tripe of this kind? it may do for you, but by the lord, it won't do for me!" mortimer cleared his throat uneasily. "our host is silent," said mrs. malplaquet, "what does mr. bellward think about it?" desmond spoke up promptly. "i think it would be very interesting to hear something further about this mission of mortimer's," he observed: mortimer cast him a glance of bitter malice. "well," he said, after a pause, "you force my hand. i shall tell you of this mission of mine and i shall show you the evidence, because it seems essential in the interests of our organization. but i assure you i shall not forget this want of confidence you have shown in me; and i shall see that you don't forget it, either!" as he spoke, he glared fiercely at desmond through his glasses. "let's hear about the precious mission," jeered behrend, "let's see the evidence. the threats'll keep!" then mortimer told them of how the star of poland came into nur-el-din's possession, and of the crown prince's embarrassment when the german authorities claimed it for the regalia of the new kingdom of poland. "the crown prince," he said, "summoned me to him in person and gave me the order to make my way to england immediately and recover the gem at all costs and by any means. did i whine or snivel about being sent to my death as some of you were doing just now? no! that is not the way of the prussian guard..." "the prussian guard?" cried no. in an awed voice. "are you also of the prussian guard, comrade?" he had risen from his seat and there was something almost of majesty about his thin, ungainly figure as he drew himself to his full height. "ay, comrade, i was," replied mortimer. "then," cried no. , "you are..." "no names, comrade," warned mortimer, "no names, i beg!" "no names, no names!" repeated the other and relapsed into his seat in a reverie. "how i got to england," mortimer continued, "matters nothing; how i fulfilled my mission is neither here nor there. but i recovered the gem and the proof..." he thrust a hand into the inner pocket of his coat and plucked out a white paper package sealed up with broad red seals. desmond held his breath. it was the white paper package, exactly as barbara had described. "look at it well, behrend," said mortimer, holding it up for the young man to see, "it cost me a man's life to get that. if it had sent twenty men to their death, i should have had it just the same!" mrs. malplaquet clapped her hands, her eyes shining. "bravo, bravo!" she exclaimed, "that's the spirit! that's the way to talk, mortimer!" "cut it out," snarled behrend, "and let's see the goods!" all had left their seats and were gathered in a group about mortimer as he began to break the gleaming red wag seals. one by one he burst them, the white paper slipped off and disclosed... a box of cigarettes. mortimer stood gazing in stupefaction at the gaudy green and gold lettering of the box. then, running his thumb-nail swiftly along the edge of the box, he broke the paper wrapping, the box burst open and a shower of cigarettes fell to the ground. "so that's your star of poland, is it?" cried behrend in a mocking voice. "wot 'ave yer done wiv' the sparklers, eh?" demanded max, catching mortimer roughly by the arm. but mortimer stood, aimlessly shaking the empty box in front of him, as though to convince himself that the gem was not there. behrend fell on his knees and raked the pile of cigarettes over and over with his fingers. "nothing there!" he shouted angrily, springing to his feet. "it's all bluff! he's bluffing to the end! see, he doesn't even attempt to find his famous jewel! he knows it isn't there!" but mortimer paid no heed. he was staring straight in front of him, a strangely woe-begone figure with his thatch of untidy hair and round goggle eyes. then the cigarette box fell to the floor with a crash as mortimer's hands dropped, with, a hopeless gesture, to his sides. "barbara mackwayte!" he whispered in a low voice, not seeming to realize that he was speaking aloud, "so that's what she wanted with nur-el-din!" desmond was standing at mortimer's elbow and caught the whisper. as he heard mortimer speak barbara's name, he had a sudden premonition that his own unmasking was imminent, though he understood as little of the purport of the other's remark as of the pile of cigarettes lying on the carpet. as mortimer turned to look at him, desmond nerved himself to meet the latter's gaze. but mortimer's face wore the look of a desperate man. there was no recognition in his eyes. not so with desmond. perhaps the bitterness of his disappointment had made mortimer careless, perhaps the way in which he had pronounced barbara's name struck a familiar chord in desmond's memory. the unkempt hair brushed down across the forehead, the thick glasses, the heavy moustache still formed together an impenetrable mask which desmond's eyes failed to pierce. but now he recalled the voice. as mortimer looked at him, the truth dawned on desmond and he knew that the man standing beside him was maurice strangwise, his comrade-in-arms in france. at that very moment a loud crash rang through the room, a cold blast of damp air came rushing in and the lamp on the table flared up wildly, flickered an instant and went out, leaving the room in darkness save for the glow of the fire. a deep voice cried: "may i ask what you are all doing in my house?" the secret door of the bookshelves had swung back and there, framed in the gaping void, desmond saw the dark figure of a man. chapter xix. the uninvited guest there are moments in life when the need for prompt action is so urgent that thought, decision and action must be as one operation of the brain. in the general consternation following on the dramatic appearance of this uninvited guest, desmond had a brief respite in which to think over his position. should he make a dash for it or stay where he was and await developments? without a second's hesitation; he decided on the latter course. with the overpowering odds against him it was more than doubtful whether he could ever reach the library door. besides, to go was to abandon absolutely all hope of capturing the gang; for his flight would warn the conspirators that the game was up. on the other hand, the new-comer might be an ally, perhaps an emissary of the chief's. the strange behavior of the odd man had shown that something was afoot outside of which those in the library were unaware. was the uninvited guest the deus ex machina who was to help him, desmond, out of his present perilous fix? meanwhile the stranger had stepped into the room, drawing the secret door to behind him. desmond heard his heavy step and the dull thud of the partition swinging into place. the sound seemed to break the spell that hung over the room. mortimer was the first to recover his presence of mind. crying out to no. to lock the door leading into the hall, he fumbled for a moment at the table. desmond caught the noise of a match being scratched and the next moment the library was again bathed in the soft radiance of the lamp. picking up the light, mortimer strode across to the stranger. "what do you want here" he demanded fiercely, "and who the devil..." he broke off without completing his sentence, drawing back in amazement. for the rays of the lamp fell upon the pale face of a stoutish, bearded man, veering towards middle age standing in front of mortimer. and the face was the face of the stoutish, bearded man, veering towards middle age, who stood in the shadow a few paces behind mortimer. each man was a complete replica of the other, save that the face of the new arrival was thin and haggard with that yellowish tinge which comes from long confinement. as mortimer staggered back, the uninvited guest recoiled in his turn. he was staring fixedly across the room at his double who met his gaze firmly, erect, tense, silent. the others looked in sheer stupefaction from one to the other of the two mr. bellwards. for nearly a minute the only sound in the room was the deep ticking of the clock, counting away the seconds separating him from eternity, desmond thought. it was mrs. malplaquet who broke the silence. suddenly her nerves snapped under the strain, and she screamed aloud. "a--ah!" she cried, "look! there are two of them! no, no, it can't be!" and she sank half fainting on the sofa. behrend whipped out a pistol from his hip pocket and thrust it in mortimer's face. "is this another of your infernal surprise packets?" he demanded fiercely. all the spies seemed on a sudden to be armed, desmond noted, all, that is, save mrs. malplaquet who lay cowering on the settee. mortimer had pulled out his super-mauser; no. , who was guarding the door, had a revolver in his hand, and behrend, as has been stated, was threatening mortimer with his browning. now max advanced threateningly into the room, a long seaman's knife in his hand.. "put that blarsted shooting-iron awiy!" he snarled at mortimer, "and tell us wot's the little gime, will yer! come on, egpline!" with absolute self-possession mortimer turned from the stranger to desmond. "i think it is up to the twins to explain," he said almost nonchalantly, "suppose we hear what this gentleman, who arrived so surprisingly through the book-shelves, has to say?" though threatened with danger from two sides, from the gang and possibly, as far as he knew, from the stranger, mortimer was perfectly calm. desmond never admired maurice strangwise more than in that moment. all eyes now turned questioningly towards the new arrival. as for desmond he drew back as far as he dared into the shadow. he knew he was in the direst peril; but he was not afraid for himself. he was crushed to the ground by the sickening feeling that he was going to be beaten, that the gang were going to slip through his fingers after all... and he was powerless to prevent it. he guessed at once what had happened. bellward must have escaped from custody; for there was no disguise about this pale, flustered creature who had the cowed look of a hunted man in his eyes. he must have come to the mill house to get his motorcycle; for he surely would have known that the villa would be the first place to which the police would follow him up. desmond saw a little ray of hope. if--it was a very big if--bellward's flight were discovered promptly, the police might be expected to reach the mill house very soon behind him. bellward must have come straight there; for he had not even taken the very elementary precaution of shaving off his beard. that made desmond think that he must have escaped some time that evening after the barbers' shops were closed. with thumping heart, with bated breath, he waited for what was to come. in a very little while, he told himself, the truth must come out. his only chance was to try and bluff his way out of this appalling dilemma and above all, at all costs--this was the essential fact which, he told himself, he must keep steadfastly before his eyes--not to lose sight of mortimer whatever happened. bellward's voice--and its tones showed desmond what an accomplished mime crook had been--broke the silence. "i have nothing to explain," he said, turning from the sofa where he had been exchanging a few words in an undertone with mrs. malplaquet, "this is my house. that is sufficient explanation for my presence here, i imagine. but i confess i am curious to know what this person"--he indicated desmond--"is doing in my clothes, if i mistake not, giving what i take to be a very successful impersonation of myself." then desmond stepped boldly out of the shadow into the circle of light thrown by the lamp. "i don't know what you all think," he said firmly, "but it seems to me singularly unwise for us to stand here gossiping when there is a stranger amongst us. i fail to understand the motive of this gentleman in breaking into my house by my private door, wearing my clothes, if i am to believe my eyes; but i clearly realize the danger of admitting strangers to a gathering of this kind." "quite right," agreed behrend, nodding his head in assent. "you have had one singular surprise to-night already," desmond resumed, "in the matter of the jewel which our respected leader was about to show us: if you recollect, our friend was only prevented from giving us the explanation which he certainly owed us over his little hoax by the arrival, the most timely arrival, of his confederate..." "confederate?" shouted mortimer, "what the devil do you mean by that?" "yes, confederate," desmond repeated. "max, behrend, mrs. malplaquet, all of you, look at this wretched fellow"--he pointed a finger of scorn at bellward--"trembling with fright at the role that has been thrust upon him, to force his way into our midst, to give his accomplice the tip to clear out before the police arrive." "stop!" exclaimed mortimer, raising his pistol. behrend caught his hand. "we'll hear you in a minute!" he said. "let him finish!" said mrs. malplaquet, and there was a certain ominous quietness in her tone that startled desmond. as for bellward, he remained silent, with arms folded, listening very intently. "doubtless, this double of mine," continued desmond in a mocking voice, "is the bearer of the star of poland, the wonderful jewel which has required our beloved leader to devote so much of his time to a certain charming lady. bah! are you going to let a man like this," and he pointed to mortimer disdainfully with his hand, "a man who puts you in the fighting line while he amuses himself in the rear, are you going to let this false friend, this bogus spy, cheat you like this? my friends, my advice to you, if you don't want to have another and yet more disagreeable surprise, is to make sure that this impudent imposter is not here for the purpose of selling us all!" he raised his voice until it rang through the room, at the same time looking round the group at the faces of the spies to see how his harangue had worked upon their feelings. max and behrend, he could see, were on his side; no. was obviously, undecided; mortimer and bellward were, of course, against him; mrs. malplaquet sat with her hands in her lap, her eyes cast down, giving no sign. "it's high time..." mortimer began violently but mrs. malplaquet put up her hand and checked him. "better hear bellward!" she said softly. "i know nothing of what has been taking place in my absence," he said, "either here or outside. i only know that i escaped from the escort that was taking me back from scotland yard to brixton prison this evening and that the police are hard on my track. i have delayed too long as, it is. every one of us in this room, with the exception of the traitor who is amongst us"--he pointed a finger in denunciation at desmond--"is in the most imminent peril as long as we stay here. the rest of you can please yourselves. i'm off!" he turned and pressed the spring. the book shelves swung open. behrend sprang forward. "not so fast," he cried. "you don't leave this room until we know who you are!" and he covered him with his pistol. "fool!" exclaimed bellward who had stopped on the threshold of the secret door, "do you want to trap the lot of us! tell him, minna," he said to mrs. malplaquet, "and for heaven's sake, let us be gone!" mrs. malplaquet stood up. "this is basil bellward," she said, "see, he's wearing the ring i gave him, a gold snake with emerald eyes! and now," she cried, raising her voice shrilly, "before we go, kill that man!" and she pointed at desmond. bellward had seized her by the arm and was dragging her through the opening in the shed when a shrill whistle resounded from the garden. without any warning mortimer swung round and fired point-blank at desmond. but desmond had stooped to spring at the other and the bullet went over his head. with ears singing from the deafening report of the pistol in the confined space, with the acrid smell of cordite in his nostrils, desmond leapt at mortimer's throat, hoping to bear him to the ground before he could shoot again. as he sprang he heard the crash of glass and a loud report. someone cried out sharply "oh!" as though in surprise and fell prone between him and his quarry; then he stumbled and at the same time received a crashing blow on the head. without a sound he dropped to the ground across a body that twitched a little and then lay still. * * * * * somewhere in the far, far distance desmond heard a woman crying--long drawn-out wailing lamentations on a high, quavering note. he had a dull, hard pain in his head which felt curiously stiff. drowsily he listened for a time to the woman's sobbing, so tired, so curiously faint that he scarcely cared to wonder what it signified. but at last it grated on him by its insistency and he opened his eyes to learn the cause of it. his bewildered gaze fell upon what seemed to him a gigantic, ogre-like face, as huge, as grotesque, as a pantomime mask. beside it was a light, a brilliant light, that hurt his eyes. then a voice, as faint as a voice on a long distance telephone, said: "well, how are you feeling?" the voice was so remote that desmond paid no attention to it. but he was rather surprised to hear a voice reply, a voice that came from his own lips, curiously enough: "fine!" so he opened his eyes again to ascertain the meaning of this phenomenon. this time the ogre-like face came into focus, and desmond saw a man with a tumbler in his hand bending over him. "that's right," said the man, looking very intently at him, "feel a bit better, eh? got a bit of a crack, what? just take a mouthful of brandy... i've got it here!" desmond obediently swallowed the contents of the glass that the other held to his lips. he was feeling horribly weak, and very cold. his collar and shirt were unbuttoned, and his neck and shoulders were sopping wet with water. on his ears still fell the wailing of the woman. "corporal," said the man bending over him, "just go and tell that old hag to hold her noise! she'll have to go out of the house if she can't be quiet!" desmond opened his eyes again. he was lying on the settee in the library. a tall figure in khaki, who had been stirring the fire with his boot, turned at the doctor's summons and left the room. on the table the lamp was still burning but its rays were neutralized by the glare of a crimson dawn which desmond could see flushing the sky through the shattered panes of the french window. in the centre of the floor lay a long object covered by a tablecloth, beside it a table overturned with a litter of broken glass strewn about the carpet. the woman's sobbing ceased. the corporal came back into the room. "she'll be quiet now, sir," he said, "i told her to get you and the gentlemen a cup o' tea." then, to desmond, he said: "nasty ding you got, sir! my word, i thought they'd done for you when i come in at the winder!" the telephone on the desk tingled sharply. the door opened at the same moment and a shabby little old man with sandy side whiskers and moleskin trousers came briskly in. his appearance had a curious effect on the patient on the settee. despite the doctor's restraining hand, he struggled into a sitting position, staring in bewilderment at the shabby old man who had gone straight to the telephone and lifted the receiver. and well might desmond stare; for here was mr. john hill, the odd man, talking on the telephone. and his voice... "well?" said the man at the telephone, curtly. "yes, speaking. you've got her, eh? good. what's that? well, that's something. no trace of the others? damn!" he slammed down the receiver and turned to face the settee. "francis!" cried desmond. and then he did a thing highly unbecoming in a field officer. he burst into tears. chapter xx. the odd man desmond and francis okewood sat in the dining-room of the mill house finishing an excellent breakfast of ham and eggs and coffee which old martha had prepared for them. francis was still wearing mr. john hill's greasy jacket and moleskins, but the removal of the sandy whiskers and a remarkable wig, consisting of a bald pate with a fringe of reddish hair, had gone far to restore him to the semblance of his former self. desmond was feeling a good deal better. his head had escaped the full force of the smashing blow dealt at him by strangwise with the butt of his pistol. he had instinctively put up his arm to defend his face and the thickly padded sleeve of bellward's jacket had broken the force of the blow. desmond had avoided a fractured skull at the price of an appalling bruise on the right forearm and a nasty laceration of the scalp. francis had resolutely declined to enlighten him as to the events of the night until both had breakfasted. after despatching the corporal of military police to hurry the housekeeper on with the breakfast, francis had taken his brother straight to the dining-room, refusing to let him ask the questions which thronged his brain until they had eaten and drunk. only when all the ham and eggs had disappeared, did francis, lighting one of mr. bellward's cigars, consent to satisfy his brother's curiosity. "it was only yesterday morning," he said, "that i landed at folkstone from the continent. how i got the chief's message recalling me and how i made my escape through the turkish lines to allenby's headquarters is a long story which will keep. the chief had a car waiting for me at folkstone and i reached london in time to lunch with him. we had a long talk and he gave me carte blanche to jump into this business now, when and where i thought i could best help you." desmond smiled bitterly. "the chief couldn't trust me to make good on my own, i suppose," he said. "the chief had a very good idea of the character of the people you had to deal with, des.," retorted francis, "and he was a trifle apprehensive that the role you were playing might lead to complications, supposing the gang were to see through your impersonation. he's a wonderful man, that, des., and he was dead right--as he always is." "but how?" asked desmond. "did the crowd spot me?" "no," answered the other; "but it was your disguise which was responsible for the escape of strangwise--" "what?" cried desmond. "he's escaped after all!" francis nodded. "yes," he said, "got clear away and left no trace. wait a minute and you shall hear! when i have told my story, you shall tell yours and between us, we'll piece things together! "well, when i left the chief yesterday, i came down here. the description of mr. john hill, your odd man, rather tickled my fancy. i wanted badly to get at you for a quiet chat and it seemed to me that if i could borrow mr. hill's appearance for a few hours now and then i might gain access to you without rousing any suspicion. you see, i knew that old hill left here about dusk every afternoon, so i guessed the coast would be clear. "clarkson's fitted me out with the duds and the make-up and i got down to wentfield by half-past six. the fog was so infernally thick that it took me more than an hour to get here on foot. it must have been close on eight o'clock when i pushed open your front gate. i thought of going boldly into the kitchen and asking for you, but, fortunately, i decided to have a preliminary prowl round the place. through a chink in the curtains of the library i saw you and a stranger talking together. the stranger was quite unknown to me; but one thing about him i spotted right off. i saw that he was disguised; so i decided to hang about a bit and await developments. "i loafed around in the fog for about half an hour. then i heard a car coming up the drive. i hid myself in the rhododendron bush opposite the front door and saw two men and a woman get out. they hurried into the house, so that i didn't have a chance of seeing their faces. but i got a good, glimpse of the chauffeur as he bent down to turn out the headlights. and, yes, i knew him!" "max, they called him," said desmond. "his name was mirsky when last i saw him," answered francis, "and mine was apfelbaum, if you want to know. he was a german agent in russia and as ruthless and unscrupulous a rascal as you'll find anywhere in the german service. i must say i never thought he'd have the nerve to show his face in this country, though i believe he's a whitechapel jew born and bred. however, there he was and the sight of his ugly mug told me that something was doing. but like a fool i decided to hang on a bit and watch, instead of going right off in that car and fetching help from stanning." "it was just as well you waited," said desmond, "for if you'd gone off at once they must have heard the car and the fat would have been in the fire straight away!" and he told francis of the loud dispute among the confederates in the library, the noise of which had effectually covered the sound of the departing ear. francis laughed. "from my observation post outside," he said, "i could only see you, des, and that blackguard, mug, as you two were sitting opposite the window. i couldn't see more than the feet of the others. but your face told me the loud voices which reached me even outside meant that a crisis of some sort was approaching, so i thought it was time to be up and doing. so i sneaked round to the front of the house, got the engine of the car going and started off down the drive. "i had the very devil of a job to get to stanning. ever since you've been down here, the chief has had special men on duty day and night at the police-station there. i didn't dare stop to light the head-lamps and as a result the first thing i did was to charge the front gate and get the back wheel so thoroughly jammed that it took me the best part of twenty minutes to get the blooming car clear. when at last i got to the station, i found that matthews, the chief's man, you know, had just arrived by car from london with a lot of plain-clothes men and some military police. he was in the very devil of a stew. he told me that bellward had escaped, that the chief was out of town for the night and ungetatable, and that he (matthews) had come down on his own to prevent the gaff being blown on you and also to recapture mr. bellward if he should be mad enough to make for his old quarters. "i told matthews of the situation up at the mill house. neither of us was able to understand why you had not telephoned for assistance--we only discovered later that the telephone had been disconnected--but i went bail that you were up against a very stiff proposition. i told matthews that, by surrounding the house, we might capture the whole gang. "matthews is a cautious cuss and he wanted a good deal of persuading, so we lost a lot of time. in the end, he wouldn't take my advice to rush every available man to the scene, but only consented to take two plainclothes men and two military police. he was so precious afraid of upsetting your arrangements. the chief, it appears, had warned everybody against doing that. so we all piled into the car and i drove them back to the mill house. "this time i left the car at the front gate and we went up to the house on foot. we had arranged that matthews and one of the military police, both armed, should stay and guard the car, while the two plainclothes men and the other military policeman, the corporal here, should accompany me to the house. matthews believed my yarn that we were only going to 'investigate.' what i intended to do in reality was to round up the whole blessed lot. "i put one of the plain-clothes men on the front door and the other round at the back of the house. their orders were to stop anybody who came out and at the same time to whistle for assistance. the corporal and i went to our old observation post outside the library window. "the moment i glanced into the room i knew that matters had reached a climax. i saw you--looking pretty blue, old man--facing that woman who seemed to be denouncing you. max stood beside you with a pistol, and beside him was our friend, mortimer, with a regular whopper of an automatic. before i had time to move, the plain-clothes man at the back of the house whistled. he had found the secret door with bellward and the woman coming out of it. "then i saw mortimer fire point-blank at you. i had my gun out in a second, but i was afraid of shooting, for fear of hitting you as you went for the other man. "but the corporal at my side wasn't worrying much about you. just as you jumped he put up his gun and let fly at mortimer with a sense of discrimination which does him infinite credit. he missed mortimer, but plugged max plumb through the forehead and my old friend dropped in his tracks right between you and the other fellow. on that we hacked our way through the french window. the corporal found time to have another shot and laid out a tall, odd-looking man..." "no. ," elucidated desmond. "... when we got inside we found him dead across the threshold of the door leading into the hall. behrend we caught hiding in a brush cupboard by the back stairs. as for the others--" "gone?" queried desmond with a sudden sinking at his heart. francis nodded. "we didn't waste any time getting through that window," he said, "but the catch was stiff and the broken glass was deuced unpleasant. still, we were too late. you were laid out on the floor; mortimer, bellward and the lady had made their lucky escape. and the secret door showed us how they had gone..." "but i thought you had a man posted at the back?" "would you believe it? when the shooting began, the infernal idiot must rush round to our assistance, so, of course, mortimer and co., nipping out by the secret door, got clear away down the drive. but that is not the worst. matthews gave them the car!" "no!" said desmond incredulously. "he did, though," answered francis. "mind you, mortimer had had the presence of mind to throw off his disguise. he presented himself to matthews as strangwise. matthews knows strangwise quite well: he has often seen him with the chief. "'my god, captain strangwise,' says matthews, as the trio appeared, 'what's happened?' "'you're wanted up at the house immediately, matthews,' says strangwise quite excitedly. 'we're to take the car and go for assistance.' "matthews had a look at strangwise's companions, and seeing bellward, of course, takes him for you. as for the lady, she had a black lace muffler wound about her face. "'miss mackwayte's coming with us, matthews,' strangwise says, seeing matthews look at the lady. that removed the last of any lurking suspicions that old matthews might have had. he left the military policeman at the gate and tore off like mad up the drive while strangwise and the others jumped into the car and were away before you could say 'knife.' the military, policeman actually cranked up the car for them! "when matthews burst into the library with the story of you and strangwise and miss mackwayte having gone off for help in our only car, i knew we had been sold. you were there, knocked out of time on the floor, in your disguise as bellward, so i knew that the man with strangwise was the real bellward and i consequently deduced that strangwise was mortimer and consequently the very man we had to catch. "we were done brown. if we had had a little more time to think things out, we should have found that motor-bike and i would have gone after the trio myself. but my first idea was to summon aid. i tried to telephone without success and then we found the wire cut outside. then i had the idea of pumping behrend. i found him quite chatty and furious against mortimer, whom he accused of having sold them. he told us that the party would be sure to make for the dyke inn, as nur-el-din was there. "by this time strangwise and his party had got at least an hour clear start of us. i had set a man to repair the telephone and in the meantime was thinking of sending another on foot to stanning to fetch one of our cars. then i found the motor-bike and despatched one of the military policemen on it to stanning. "in about half an hour's time he was back with a car in which were gordon and harrison and some more military police. i put matthews in charge of the party and sent them off to the dyke inn, though i felt pretty sure we were too late to catch the trio. that was really the reason i stayed behind; besides, i wanted to look after you. i got a turn when i saw you spread out all over the carpet, old man, i can tell you." desmond, who had listened with the most eager attention, did not speak for a minute. the sense of failure was strong upon him. how he had bungled it all! "look here," he said presently in a dazed voice, "you said just now that matthews mistook mrs. malplaquet for miss mackwayte. why should matthews think that miss mackwayte was down here? did she come down with you?" francis looked at him quickly. "that crack on the head makes you forget things," he said. "don't you remember miss mackwayte coming down here to see you yesterday afternoon matthews thought she had stayed on..." desmond shook his head. "she's not been here," he replied. "i'm quite positive about that!" francis sprang to his feet. "surely you must be mistaken," he said in tones of concern. "the chief sent her down yesterday afternoon on purpose to see you. she reached wentfield station all right; because the porter told matthews that she asked him the way to the mill house." an ominous foreboding struck chill at desmond's heart. he held his throbbing head for an instant. someone had mentioned barbara that night in the library but who was it? and what had he said? ah! of course, it was strangwise. "so that's what she wanted with nur-el-din!" he had said. desmond felt it all coming back to him now. briefly he told francis of his absence from the mill house in response to the summons from nur-el-din, of his interview with the dancer and her story of the star of poland, of his hurried return just in time to meet mortimer, and of mortimer's enigmatical reference to the dancer in the library that night. fancis looked graver and graver as the story proceeded. desmond noted it and reproached himself most bitterly with his initial failure to inform the chief of the visits of nur-el-din and mortimer to the mill house. when he had finished speaking, he did not look at francis, but gazed mournfully out of the window into the chilly drizzle of a sad winter's day. "i don't like the look of it at all, des," said his brother shaking his head, "but first we must make sure that there has been no misunderstanding about miss mackwayte. you say your housekeeper was already here when you came back from the dyke inn. she may have seen her. let's have old martha in!" between fright, bewilderment and indignation at the invasion of the house, old martha was, if anything, deafer and more stupid than usual. after much interrogation they had to be satisfied with her repeated assertion that "she 'adn't seen no young lady" and allowed her to hobble back to her kitchen. the two brothers stared at one another blankly. francis was the first to speak. his eyes were shining and his manner was rather tense. "des," he asked; "what do you make of it? from what strangwise let fall in the library here tonight, it seems probable that miss mackwayte, instead of coming here to see you as she was told--or she may have called during your absence--went to the dyke inn and saw nur-el-din. the muffed cry you heard at the inn suggests foul play to me and that suspicion is deepened in my mind by the fact that matthews found nur-el-din at the dyke inn, as he reported to me by telephone just now; but he says nothing about miss mackwayte. des, i fear the worst for that poor girl if she has fallen into the hands of that gang!" desmond remained silent for a moment. he was trying to piece things together as best as his aching head would allow. both nur-el-din and strangwise were after the jewel. nur-el-din believed that afternoon that strangwise had it, while strangwise, on discovering his loss, had seemed to suggest that barbara mackwayte had recovered it. "either strangwise or nur-el-din, perhaps both of them," said desmond, "must know what has become of miss mackwayte." and he explained his reasoning to francis. his brother nodded quickly. "then nur-el-din shall tell us," he answered sternly. "they've arrested her?" asked desmond with a sudden pang. "yes," said francis curtly. but too late to prevent a crime being committed. when matthews and his party arrived, they found nur-el-din in the very act of leaving the inn. the landlord, rass, was lying dead on the floor of the tap-room with a bullet through the temple. that looks to me, des, as though nur-el-din had recovered the jewel!" "but rass is a compatriot of hers," desmond objected. "but he was also an inconvenient witness of her dealings with strangwise," retorted francis. "if either nur-el-din or strangwise have regained possession of the star of poland, des, i fear the worst for barbara mackwayte. come in!" the corporal stood, saluting, at the door. "mr. matthews on the telephone, sir!" francis hurried away, leaving desmond to his thoughts, which were not of the most agreeable. had he been wrong in thinking nur-el-din a victim? was he, after all, nothing but a credulous fool who had been hoodwinked by a pretty woman's play-acting? and had he sacrificed barbara mackwayte to his obstinacy and his credulousness? francis burst suddenly into the room. "des," he cried, "they've found miss mackwayte's hat on the floor of the tap-room... it is stained with blood..." desmond felt himself growing pale: "and the girl herself," he asked thickly, "what of her?" francis shook his head. "vanished," he replied gravely. "vanished utterly. desmond," he added, "we must go over to the dyke inn at once!" chapter xxi. the black velvet toque across morsted fen the day was breaking red and sullen. the brimming dykes, fringed with bare pollards, and the long sheets of water spread out across the lush meadows, threw back the fiery radiance of the sky from their gleaming surface. the tall poplars about the dyke inn stood out hard and clear in the ruddy light; beyond them the fen, stretched away to the flaming horizon gloomy and flat and desolate, with nothing higher than the stunted pollards visible against the lurid background. upon the absolute silence of the scene there presently broke the steady humming of a car. a great light, paled by the dawn, came bobbing and sweeping, along the road that skirted the fen's edge. a big open car drew up by the track and branched, off to the inn. its four occupants consulted together for an instant and then alighted. three of them were in plain clothes; the other was a soldier. the driver was also in khaki. "they're astir, mr. matthews," said one, of the plain clothes men, pointing towards the house, "see, there's a light in the inn!" they followed the direction of his finger and saw a beam of yellow light gleaming from among the trees. "get your guns out, boys!" said matthews. "give them a chance to put their hands up, and if they don't obey, shoot!" very swiftly but very quietly, the four men picked their way over the miry track to the little bridge leading to the yard in front of the inn. the light they had remarked shone from the inn door, a feeble, flickering light as of an expiring candle. matthews, who was leading, halted and listened. everything was quite still. above their head the inn sign groaned uneasily as it was stirred by the fresh morning breeze. "you, gordon," whispered matthews to the man behind him--they had advanced in indian file--"take bates and go round to the back. harrison will go in by the front with me." even as he spoke a faint noise came from the interior of the house. the four men stood stock-still and listened. in the absolute stillness of the early morning, the sound fell distinctly on their ears. it was a step--a light step--descending the stairs. gordon and the soldier detached themselves from the party as matthews and the other plain clothes man crossed the bridge swiftly and went up to the inn door. hardly had matthews got his foot on the stone step of the threshold than, a piercing shriek resounded from the room quite close at hand. the next minute a flying figure burst out of the door and fell headlong into the arms of matthews who was all but overbalanced by the force of the impact. he closed with the figure and grappled it firmly. his arms encountered a frail, light body, shaking from head to foot, enveloped in a cloak of some soft, thick material. "it's a woman!" cried matthews. "it's nur-el-din!" exclaimed his companion in the same breath, seizing the woman by the arm. the dancer made no attempt to escape. she stood with bowed head, trembling violently, in a cowering, almost a crouching posture. harrison, who had the woman by the arm, had turned her head so that he could see her face. she was deathly pale and her black eyes were wide open, the pupils dilated. her teeth were chattering in her head. she seemed incapable of speech or motion. "nur-el-din?" exclaimed matthews in accents of triumph. "bring her in, harrison, and let's have a look at her!" but the woman recoiled in terror. she arched her body stiff, like a child in a passion, and strained every muscle to remain where she was cowering by the inn-door. "come on, my girl," said the man not unkindly, "don't you 'ear wot the guv'nor sez! in you go!" then the girl screamed aloud. "no, no!" she cried, "not in that house! for the love of god, don't take me back into that room! ah! for pity's sake, let me stay outside! take me to prison but not, not into that house again!" she half fell on her knees in the mire, pleading, entreating, her body shaken by sobs. then harrison, who was an ex-guardsman and a six-footer at that, plucked her off her feet and carried her, still struggling, still imploring with piteous cries, over the threshold into the house: matthews followed behind. the shutters of the tap-room were still closed. only a strip of the dirty floor, strewn with sawdust, was illuminated by a bar of reddish light from the daybreak outside. on the table a candle, burnt down to the socket of its brass candlestick, flared and puttered in a riot of running wag. half in the bar of daylight from outside, half in the darkness beyond the open door, against which the flickering candlelight struggled feebly, lay the body of a yellow-faced, undersized man with a bullet wound through the temple. without effort harrison deposited his light burden on her feet by the table. instantly, the girl fled, like some frightened animal of the woods, to the farthest corner of the room. here she dropped sobbing on her knees, rocking herself to and fro in a sort of paroxysm of hysteria. harrison moved quickly round the table after her; but he was checked by a cry from matthews who was kneeling by the body. "let her be," said matthews, "she's scared of this and no wonder! come here a minute, harrison, and see if you know, this chap!" harrison crossed the room and looked down at the still figure. he whistled softly. "my word!" he said, "but he copped it all right, sir! ay, i know him well enough! he's rass, the landlord of this pub, that's who he is, as harmless a sort of chap as ever was! who did it, d'you think, sir?" matthews, who had been going through the dead man's pockets, now rose to his feet. "nothing worth writing home about there," he said half aloud. then to harrison, he added: "that's what we've got to discover... hullo, who's this?" the door leading from the bar to the tap-room was thrust open. gordon put his head in. "i left bates on guard outside, sir," he said in answer to an interrogatory glance from matthews, "i've been all over the ground floor and there's not a soul here..." he checked himself suddenly. "god bless my soul!" he exclaimed, his eyes on the figure crouching in the corner, "you don't mean to say you've got her? a pretty dance she led dug and myself! well, sir, it looks to me like a good night's work!". matthews smiled a self-satisfied smile. "i fancy the chief will be pleased," he said, "though the rest of 'em seem to have given us the slip. gordon, you might take a look upstairs--that door in the corner leads to the upper rooms, i fancy whilst i'm telephoning to mr. okewood. he must know about this without delay. you, harrison, keep an eye on the girl!" he went through the door leading into the bar, and they heard him speaking on the telephone which hung on the wall behind the counter. he returned presently with a white tablecloth which he threw over the prostrate figure on the floor. then he turned to the dancer. "stand up," he said sternly, "i want to speak to you." nur-el-din cast a frightened glance over her shoulder at the floor beside the table where rass lay. on seeing the white pall that hid him from view, she became somewhat reassured. she rose unsteadily to her feet and stood facing matthews. "in virtue of the powers conferred upon me by the defence of the realm acts, i arrest you for espionage... matthews rolled off in glib, official gabble the formula of arrest ending with the usual caution that anything the prisoner might say might be used against her at her trial. then he said to harrison: "better put them on her, harrison!" the plain clothes man took a pace forward and touched the dancer's slender wrists, there was a click and she was handcuffed. "now take her in there," said matthews pointing to the bar. "there's no exit except by this room. and don't take your eyes off her. you understand? mr. okewood will be along presently with a female searcher." "sir!" said the plain clothes man with military precision and touched the dancer on the shoulder. without a word she turned and followed him into the bar. gordon entered by the door at the end of the room. "i'd like you to have a look upstairs, sir," he said to matthews, "there's not a soul in the house, but somebody has been locked up in one of the rooms. the door is still locked but one of the panels has been forced out. i think you ought to see it!" the two men passed out of the tap-room together, and mounted the stairs. on the landing matthews paused a moment to glance out of the window on to the bleak and inhospitable fen which was almost obscured from view by a heavy drizzle of rain. "brr!" said mr. matthews, "what a horrible place!" looking up the staircase from the landing, they could see that one of the panels of the door facing the head of the stairs had been pressed out and lay on the ground. they passed up the stairs and matthews, putting one arm and his head through the opening, found himself gazing into that selfsame ugly sitting room where desmond had talked with nur-el-din. a couple of vigorous heaves burst the fastening of the door. the sitting-room was in the wildest confusion. the doors of the sideboard stood wide with its contents scattered higgledy-piggledy on the carpet. a chest of drawers in the corner had been ransacked, some of the drawers having been taken bodily out and emptied on the floor. the door leading to the inner room stood open and showed that a similar search had been conducted there as well. the inner room proved to be a bare white-washed place, very plainly furnished as a bedroom. on the floor stood a small attache case, and beside it a little heap of miscellaneous articles such as a woman would take away with her for a weekend, a crepe-de-chine nightdress, a dainty pair of bedroom slippers and some silver-mounted toilet fittings. from these things matthews judged that this had been nur-el-din's bedroom. the two men spent a long time going through the litter with which the floor in the bedroom and sitting room was strewed. but their labors were vain, and they turned their attention to the remaining rooms, of which there were three. the first room they visited, adjoining nur-el-din's bedroom, was scarcely better than an attic. it contained in the way of furniture little else than a truckle-bed, a washstand, a table and a chair. women's clothes were hanging on hooks behind the door. the place looked like a servant's bedroom. they pursued their search. across the corridor two rooms stood side by side. one proved to be rass's. his clothes lay about the room, and on a table in the corner, where writing materials stood, were various letters and bills made out in his name. the other room had also been occupied; for the bed was made and turned back for the night and there were clean towels on the washstand. but there was no clue as to its occupant save for a double-barreled gun which stood in the corner. it had evidently been recently used; for fresh earth was adhering to the stock and the barrel, though otherwise clean, showed traces of freshly-burnt powder. there being nothing further to glean upstairs, the two men went down to the tap-room again. as matthews came through the door leading from the staircase his eye caught a dark object which lay on the floor under the long table. he fished it out with his stick. it was a small black velvet toque with a band of white and black silk flowers round it. in one part the white flowers were besmeared with a dark brown stain. matthews stared at the little hat in his hand with puckered brows. then he called to gordon. "do you know that hat?" he asked, holding it up for the man to see. gordon shook his head. "i might have seen it," he replied, "but i don't take much account of such things, mr. matthews, being a married man..." "tut, tut," fussed matthews, "i think you have seen it. come, think of the office for a minute!" "of the office?" repeated gordon. then he exclaimed suddenly: "miss mackwayte!" "exactly," answered matthews, "it's her hat, i recall it perfectly. she wore it very often to the office. look at the blood on it!" he put the hat down on the table and ran into the bar where nur-el-din sat immobile on her chair, wrapped in a big overcoat of some soft blanket cloth in dark green, her chin sunk on her breast. matthews called up the mill house and asked for francis okewood. when he mentioned the finding of barbara mackwayte's hat, the dancer raised her head and cast a frightened glance at matthews. but she said nothing and when matthews turned from the telephone to go back to the tap-room she had resumed her former listless attitude. matthews and gordon made a thorough search of the kitchen and back premises without finding anything of note. they had just finished when the sound of a car outside attracted their attention. on the road beyond the little bridge outside the inn francis and desmond okewood were standing, helping a woman to alight. francis was still wearing his scarecrow-like apparel, while desmond, with his beard and pale face and bandaged head, looked singularly unlike the trim brigade major who had come home on leave only a week or so before. matthews went out to meet them and, addressing the woman--a brisk-looking person--as mrs. butterworth, informed her that it was shocking weather. then he led the way into the inn. the first thing that desmond saw was the little toque with the brown stain on its flowered band lying on the table. francis picked it up, turned it over and laid it down again. "where did you find it?" he asked matthews. the latter informed him of the circumstances of the discovery. then francis, sending the searcher in to nur-el-din in the bar, pointed to the body on the floor. "let's have a look at that!" he said. matthews removed the covering and the three men gazed at the set face of the dead man. there was a clean bullet wound in the right temple. matthews showed the papers he had taken off the body and exchanged a few, words in a low tone with francis. there is something about the presence of death which impels respect whatever the circumstances. five minutes later mrs. butterworth came out of the bar. in her hands she held a miscellaneous assortment of articles, a small gold chain purse, a pair of gloves, a gold cigarette case, a tiny handkerchief, and a long blue envelope. she put all the articles down on the tables save the envelope which she handed to francis. "this was in the lining of her overcoat, sir," she said. francis took the envelope and broke the seal. he drew out half a dozen sheets of thin paper, folded lengthwise. leisurely he unfolded them, but he had hardly glanced at the topmost sheet than he turned to the next and the next until he had run through the whole bunch. desmond, peering over his shoulder, caught a glimpse of rows of figures, very neatly set out in a round hand and knew that he was looking at a message in cipher code. the door at the end of the tap-room was flung open and a soldier came in quickly. he stopped irresolute on seeing the group. "well, bates," said matthews. "there's a woman lying dead in the cellar back yonder," said the man, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "the cellar?" cried matthews. "yes, sir... i think you must ha' overlooked it." francis, desmond and matthews exchanged a brief glance. a name was on the lips of each one of them but none dared speak it. then, leaving harrison and mrs. butterworth with nur-el-din, the three men followed the soldier and hurriedly quitted the room. chapter xxii. what the cellar revealed on opening the door at the farther end of the tap-room they saw before them a trap-door standing wide with a shallow flight of wooden steps leading to the darkness below. bates pointed with his foot to a square of linoleum which lay on one side. "that was covering the trap," he said, "i wouldn't ha' noticed nothing out of the ordinary myself only i slipped, see, and kicked this bit o' ilecloth away and there was the ring of the trap staring me in the face, as you might say. show us a light here, gordon!" gordon handed him an electric torch. he flashed it down the stair. it fell upon something like a heap of black clothes huddled up at the foot of the ladder. "is it miss mackwayte?" whispered francis to his brother. "i've never seen her, you know!" "i can't tell," desmond whispered back, "until i see her face." he advanced to descend the ladder but matthews was before him. producing an electric torch from his pocket, matthews slipped down the stair with gordon close behind. there was a pause, so tense that it seemed an eternity to desmond, as he waited half-way down the ladder with the musty smell of the cellar in his nostrils. then matthews cried: "it's not her!" "let me look!" gordon broke in. then desmond heard him exclaim. "it's nur-el-din's french maid! it's marie... she's been stabbed in the back!" desmond suddenly felt rather sick. this progress from one deed of violence to another revolted him. the others crowded into the cellar; but he did not follow them. he remained at the top of the trap, leaning against the wall, trying to collect his thoughts. barbara mackwayte was now his sole preoccupation. if anything had happened to her,--it was through his fault alone; for he began to feel sure she must have come to the mill house in his absence. what then had become of her? the blood-stained toque pointed to foul play. but if they had murdered her, what had they done with the body? his thoughts flew back to his interview with nur-el-din upstairs on the previous afternoon. he remembered the entrance of the maid and the dancer's hurried exit. might not marie have come to tell her that barbara mackwayte was below asking for her? it was very shortly after this interruption that, crouching on the roof of the shed, he had heard that muffled cry from the house and seen rass enter the bar and speak with strangwise. he had seen, too, the maid, marie, in earnest conversation with strangwise by the back gate on the fen. had both marie and rass been in league with strangwise against the dancer? and had nur-el-din discovered their treachery? his mind refused to follow these deductions to their logical sequence; for, black as things looked against nur-el-din, he could not bring himself to believe her a murderess. but now there were footsteps on the ladder. they were all coming out of the cellar again. as soon as francis saw desmond's face, he caught his brother by the arm and said: "the open air for you, my boy! you look as if you'd seen a ghost! i should have remembered all you've gone through!" he walked him quickly through the tap-room and out through the inn door into the yard. the rain had ceased and the sun was making a brave attempt to shine through the clouds. the cold air did desmond good and after a turn or two in the yard, arm in arm with francis, he felt considerably better. "where is miss mackwayte?" he asked. "des," said his brother, "i don't know and i don't want to cross-examine nur-el-din in there until i have reasoned out some theory which will fit miss mackwayte in her place in this horrible affair. the men have gone to search the outhouses and precincts of the inn to see if they can find any traces of her body, but i don't think they will find anything. i believe that miss mackwayte is alive." "alive?" said desmond. "the blood on that toque of hers might have been rass's. there is a good deal of blood on the floor. you see, i still think miss mackwayte's safety depends on that jewel not being recovered by either strangwise or nur-el-din. strangwise, we know, has lost the jewel and there is no trace of it here: moreover, we know that, as late as yesterday afternoon, nur-el-din did not have it. therefore, she cannot have sent it away! i am inclined to believe, too, that strangwise, before going over to the mill house last night, carried off miss mackwayte somewhere with the aid of rass and marie, who were evidently his accomplices, in order to find out from her where the jewel is concealed..." "but miss mackwayte cannot know what has become of it," objected desmond. "maybe not," retorted his brother, "but both strangwise and nur-el-din know that the jewel was originally entrusted to her charge. nur-el-din did not, it is true, tell miss mackwayte what the silver box contained but the latter may have found out, at least the dancer might suppose so; while strangwise might think the same. therefore, both strangwise and nur-el-din had an interest in detaining miss mackwayte, and i think strangwise forestalled the dancer. when nur-el-din discovered it, both rass and her maid paid the penalty of their betrayal." they walked once up and down the yard before desmond replied. "francis," he said, "you remember nur-el-din's story--i told it to you just as i had it from her." "perfectly," answered his brother. "well," desmond went on deliberately, "i think that story gives us the right measure of nur-el-din's, character. she may be vain, she may be without morals, she may be weak, she may be an adventuress, but she's not a murderess. if anything, she's a victim!" francis laughed shortly. "victim be damned!" he cried. "man alive," he went on, "how can you talk such nonsense in face of the evidence, with this bloody-minded woman's victims hardly cold yet? but, horrible as these murders are, the private squabbles of this gang of spies represent neither your interest nor mine in this case. for us the fact remains that nur-el-din, besides being a monster of iniquity, is the heart and soul and vitals of the whole conspiracy!" jaded and nervous, desmond felt a quick sting of resentment at his brother's tone. why should francis thus lay down the law to him about nur-el-din? francis knew nothing of the girl or her antecedents while he, desmond, flattered himself that he had at least located the place she occupied in this dark conspiracy. and he cried out vehemently: "you're talking like a fool! i grant you that nur-el-din has been mixed up with this spy crowd; but she herself stands absolutely apart from the organization..." "half a minute!" put in francis, "aren't you forgetting that blue envelope we took off her just now?" "what about it?" asked desmond sharply. "merely this; the cipher is in five figure groups, addressed to a four figure group and signed by a six figure group..." "well?" "that happens to be the current secret code of the german great general staff. if you were to tap a german staff message out in france to-day, ten to one it would be in that code. curious coincidence, isn't it?" when one is angry, to be baffled in argument does not have a sedative effect as a rule. if we were all philosophers it might; but being merely human beings, cold reason acts on the inflamed temperament as a red rag is said to affect a bull. desmond, sick with the sense of failure and his anxiety about barbara, was in no mood to listen to reason. the cold logic of his brother infuriated him mainly because desmond knew that francis was right. "i don't care a damn for the evidence," vociferated desmond; "it may look black against nur-el-din; i daresay it does; but i have met and talked to this girl and i tell you again that she is not a principal in this affair but a victim!" "you talk as if you were in love with the woman!" francis said mockingly. desmond went rather white. "if pity is a form of love," he replied in a low voice, "then i am, for god knows i never pitied any woman as i pity nur-el-din! only you, i suppose," he added bitterly, "are too much of the policeman, francis, to appreciate anything like that!" hot tempers run in families and francis flared up on the instant. "i may be a policeman, as you say," he retorted, "but i've got enough sense of my duty, i hope, not to allow sentimentality to interfere with my orders!" it was a shrewd thrust and it caught desmond on the raw. "i'm sick of arguing here," he said hotly, "if you're so mighty clever, you'd better shoot nur-el-din first and arrest strangwise afterwards. then you'll find out which of us two is right!" he turned on his heel and started for the little bridge leading out onto the fen. francis stood still a moment watching him, then ran after him. he caught up with desmond as the latter reached the bridge. "desmond!" he said, pleadingly. "oh, go to hell!" retorted the other savagely, whereupon francis turned his back on him and walked back to the inn. a car had stopped by the bridge and a man was getting out of it as desmond moved towards the fen. the next moment he found himself face to face with the chief. the chief's face was hard and cold and stern. there was a furrow between his eyes which deepened when he recognized desmond. "well," he said curtly, "and where is my secretary?" "i don't know," desmond faltered. "why are you here, then?" came back in that hard, uncompromising voice. desmond was about to reply; but the other checked him. "i know all you have to say," he resumed, "but no excuse you can offer can explain away the disappearance of miss mackwayte. your orders were formal to remain at home. you saw fit to disobey them and thereby, maybe, sent miss mackwayte to her death. no!" he added, seeing that desmond was about to expostulate, "i want to hear nothing from you. however obscure the circumstances of miss mackwayte's disappearance may be, one fact is perfectly clear, namely, that she went to the mill house, as she was ordered and you were not there. for no man or woman in my service ever dares to disobey an order i have given." "chief..." desmond broke in, but again that inexorable voice interposed. "i will hear nothing from you," said the chief, "it is a rule of mine never to interfere with my men in their work or to see them until their mission has been successfully completed. when you have found miss mackwayte i will hear you but not before!" desmond drew himself up. "in that case, sir," he said stiffly, "i will bid you good morning. and i trust you will hear from me very soon again!" he walked over to one of the cars waiting outside the inn, spoke a word to the driver and got in. the driver started the engine and presently the car was bumping slowly along the muddy track to the main road. the chief stood looking after him. "well," he murmured to himself. "i soaked it into him pretty hard; but he took it like a brick. i do believe he'll find her yet!" he shook his head sagely and continued on his way across the yard. chapter xxiii. mrs. malplaquet goes down to the cellar in the age of chivalry woman must have been built of sterner stuff than the girl of to-day. at least, we read in medieval romance of fair ladies who, after being knocked down by a masterful suitor and carried off across his saddle bow thirty or forty miles, are yet able to appear, cold but radiantly beautiful, at the midnight wedding and the subsequent marriage feast. but this is a romance of the present day, the age of nerves and high velocity. barbara mackwayte, strong and plucky as she was, after being half throttled and violently thrown into the cellar of the dyke inn, suddenly gave way under the strain and conveniently evaded facing the difficulties of her position by fainting clear away. the precise moment when she came out of her swoon she never knew. the cellar was dark; but it was nothing compared to the darkness enveloping her mind. she lay there on the damp and mouldy straw, hardly able, scarcely wanting, to move, overwhelmed by the extraordinary adventure which had befallen her. was this to be the end of the pleasant trip into the country on which she had embarked so readily only a few hours before? she tried to remember that within twenty miles of her were policemen and taxis and lights and all the attributes of our present day civilization; but her thoughts always returned, with increasing horror, to that undersized yellow-faced man in the room above, to the face of nur-el-din, dark and distorted with passion. a light shining down the cellar stairs drew her attention to the entrance. the woman she had already seen and in whom she now recognized marie, the dancer's maid, was descending, a tray in her hand. she placed the tray on the ground without a word, then went up the stairs again and fetched the lamp. she put the lamp down by the tray and, stooping, cut the ropes that fastened barbara's hands and feet. "so, mademoiselle," she said, drawing herself erect with a grunt, "your supper: some tea and meat!" she pulled a dirty deal box from a corner of the cellar and put the tray upon it. then she rose to her feet and sat down. the maid watched barbara narrowly while she ate a piece of bread and drank the tea. "at least," thought barbara to herself, "they don't mean to starve me!" the tea was hot and strong; and it did her good. it seemed to clear her faculties, too; for her brain began to busy itself with the problem of escaping from her extraordinary situation. "mademoiselle was a leetle too clevaire," said the maid with an evil leer,--"she would rob madame, would she? she would play the espionne, hein? eh bien, ma petite, you stay 'ere ontil you say what you lave done wiz ze box of madame!" "why do you say i have stolen the box?" protested barbara, "when i tell you i know nothing of it. it was stolen from me by the man who killed my father. more than that i don't know. you don't surely think i would conspire to kill" her voice trembled--"my father, to get possession of this silver box that means nothing to me!" marie laughed cynically. "ma foi," she cried, "when one is a spy, one will stop at nothing! but tiens, here is madame!" nur-el-din picked her way carefully down the steps, the yellow-faced man behind her. he had a pistol in his hand. the dancer said something in french to her maid who picked up the tray and departed. "now, mademoiselle," said nur-el-din, "you see this pistol. rass here will use it if you make any attempt to escape. you understand me, hein? i come to give you a las' chance to say where you 'ave my box..." barbara looked at the dancer defiantly. "i've told you already i know nothing about it. you, if any one, should be better able to say what has become of it..." "quoi?" exclaimed nur-el-din in genuine surprise, "comment?" "because," said barbara, "a long black hair--one of your hairs--was found adhering to the straps with which i was fastened!" "tiens!" said the dancer, her black eyes wide with surprise, "tiens!" she was silent for a minute, lost in thought. the man, rass, suddenly cocked his ear towards the staircase and said something to nur-el-din in the same foreign tongue which barbara had heard them employ before. the dancer made a gesture, bidding him to be silent. "he was at my dressing-table that night;" she murmured in french, as though to herself, "then it was he who did it!" she spoke rapidly to barbara. "this man who tied you up... you didn't see him?" barbara shook her head. "i could see nothing; i don't even know that it was a man. he seized me so suddenly that in the dark i could distinguish nothing... it might have been a woman... yourself, for instance, for all i know!" nur-el-din clasped her hands together. "it was he, himself, then," she whispered, "i might have known. yet he has not got it here!" heavy footsteps resounded in the room above. rass cried out something swiftly to the dancer, thrust the pistol into her hands, and dashed up the ladder. the next moment there was a loud report followed by the thud of a heavy body falling. somewhere in the rooms above a woman screamed. nur-el-din's hands flew to her face and the pistol crashed to the ground. two men appeared at the head of the cellar stairs. one was strangwise, in uniform, the other was bellward. "they're both here!" said strangwise over his shoulder to bellward. "ah, thank god, you've come!" cried barbara, running to the foot of the ladder. strangwise brushed past her and caught nur-el-din by the arm. "run her upstairs," he said quickly to bellward who had followed behind him, "and lock her in her room. i've seen to the rest. you, miss mackwayte," he added to barbara, "you will come with us!" barbara was staring in fascination at bellward. she had never believed that any disguise could be so baffling, so complete; major okewood, she thought, looked like a different man. but bellward had grasped the dancer by the two arms and forced her up the stairs in front of him. nur-el-din seemed too overcome with terror to utter a sound. "oh, don't be so rough with her, major okewood!" entreated barbara, "you'll hurt her!" she had her back turned to strangwise so she missed the very remarkable change that came over his features at her words. "okewood," he whispered but too low for the girl to distinguish the words, "okewood? i might have guessed! i might have guessed!" then he touched barbara lightly on the shoulder. "come," he said, "we must be getting upstairs. we have much to do!" he gently impelled her towards the ladder up which bellward and nur-el-din had already disappeared. at the top, he took the lead and conducted barbara into the taproom. a single candle stood on the table, throwing a wan light into the room. rass lay on his back in the centre of the floor, one hand doubled up under him, one knee slightly drawn up. barbara started back in horror. "is he... is he..." she stammered, pointing at the limp still form. strangwise nodded. "a spy!" he said gravely, "we were well rid of him. go over there in the corner where you won't see it. stay!" he added, seeing how pale the girl had become, "you shall have some brandy!" he produced a flask and measured her out, a portion in the cup. suddenly, the door leading from the bar opened and a woman came into the room. her black velvet dress, her gray hair and general air of distinction made her a bizarre figure in that squalid room lit by the guttering candle. "time we were off!" she said to strangwise, "bellward's just coming down!" "there's the maid..." began strangwise, looking meaningly at barbara. the woman in black velvet cast a questioning glance at him. strangwise nodded. "i'll do it," said the woman promptly, "if you'll call her down!" strangwise went to the other door of the tap-room and called: "marie!" there was a step outside and the maid came in, pale and trembling. "your mistress wants you; she is downstairs in the cellar," he said pleasantly. marie hesitated an instant and surveyed the group. "non, non," she said nervously, "je n'veux pas descendre!" strangwise smiled, showing his teeth. "no need to be frightened, ma fille," he replied. "madame here will go down with you!" and he pointed to the woman in black velvet. this seemed to reassure the maid and she walked across the room to the door, the woman following her. as the latter passed strangwise he whispered a word in her ear. "no, no," answered the other, "i prefer my own way," and she showed him something concealed in her hand. the two women quitted the room together, leaving strangwise and barbara alone with the thing on the floor. strangwise picked up a military great-coat which was hanging over the back of a chair and put it on, buttoning it all the way up the front and turning up the collar about the neck. then he crammed a cap on his head and stood listening intently. a high, gurgling scream, abruptly checked, came through the open door at the farther end of the room. barbara sprang up from the chair into which she had sunk. "what was that" she asked, whispering. strangwise did not reply. he was still listening, a tall, well set-up figure in the long khaki great-coat. "but those two women are alone in the cellar," exclaimed barbara, "they are being murdered! ah! what was that?" a gentle thud resounded from below. a man came in through the door leading from the bar: he had a fat, smooth-shaven face, heavily jowled. "all ready, bellward?" asked strangwise carelessly. barbara stared at the man thus addressed. she saw that he was wearing the same clothes as the man who had come down into the cellar with strangwise but the beard was gone. and the man she saw before her was not desmond okewood. without waiting to reason out the metamorphosis, she ran towards bellward. "they're murdering those two women down in the cellar," she cried, "oh, what has happened? won't you go down and see?" bellward shook her off roughly. "neat work!" said strangwise. "she's a wonder with the knife!" agreed the other. barbara stamped her foot. "if neither of you men have the courage to go down," she cried, "then i'll go alone! as for you, captain strangwise, a british officer..." she never finished the sentence. strangwise caught her by the shoulder and thrust the cold barrel of a pistol in her face. "stay where you are!" he commanded. "and if you scream i shoot!" barbara was silent, dumb with horror and bewilderment, rather than with fear. a light shone through the open door at the end of the tap-room and the woman in black velvet appeared, carrying a lamp in her hand she was breathing rather hard and her carefully arranged gray hair was a little untidy; but she was quite calm and self-possessed. "we haven't a moment to lose!" she said, putting the lamp down on the table and blowing it out. "bellward, give me my cloak!" bellward advanced with a fur cloak and wrapped it about her shoulders. "you are the perfect artiste, minna," he said. "practise makes perfect!" replied mrs. malplaquet archly. strangwise had flung open the door leading to the front yard. a big limousine stood outside. "come on," he said impatiently, "don't stand there gossiping you two!" then barbara revolted. "i'll not go!" she exclaimed, "you can do what you like but i'll stay where i am! murderers..." "oh," said strangwise wearily, "bring her along, bellward!" bellward and the woman seized the girl one by each arm and dragged her to the car. strangwise had the door open and between them they thrust her in. bellward and the woman mounted after her while strangwise, after starting the engine, sprang into the driving-seat outside. with a low hum the big car glided forth into the cold, starry night. from the upper floor of the dyke inn came the sound of a woman's terrified sobs. below there reigned the silence of death. chapter xxiv. the two deserters desmond drove to wentfield station in an angry and defiant mood. he was incensed against francis, incensed against the chief, yet, if the truth were told, most of all incensed against himself. not that he admitted it for a moment. he told himself that he was very hardly used. he had undergone considerable danger in the course of discharging a mission which was none of his seeking, and he had met with nothing but taunts from his brother and abuse from the chief. "i wash my hands of the whole thing," desmond declared, as he paced the platform at wentfield waiting for his train. "as francis is so precious cocksure about it all, let him carry on in my place! he's welcome to the chief's wiggings! the chief won't get me to do his dirty work again in a hurry! that's flat!" yet all the while the little gimlet that men call conscience was patiently drilling its way through the wall of obduracy behind which desmond's wounded pride had taken cover. rail as he would against his hard treatment at the hands of the chief, he knew perfectly well that he could never wash his hands of his mission until barbara mackwayte had been brought back into safety. this thought kept thrusting itself forward into the foreground of his mind; and he had to focus his attention steadfastly on his grievances to push it back again. but we puny mortals are all puppets in the hands of fate. even as the train was bearing desmond, thus rebellious, londonwards, destiny was already pulling the strings which was to force the "quitter" back into the path he had forsaken. for this purpose fate had donned the disguise of a dirty-faced man in a greasy old suit and a spotted handkerchief in lieu of collar... but of him presently. on arriving at liverpool street, desmond, painfully conscious of his unkempt appearance, took a taxi to a turkish bath in the west end. there his first care was to submit himself to the hands of the barber who, after a glance at his client's bandaged head, muddy clothes and shaggy beard, coughed ominously and relapsed into a most unbarber-like reserve. desmond heard the cough and caught the look of commiseration on the man's face. "i rather think i want a shave!" he said, weakly. "i rather think you do, sir!" replied the man, busy with his lather. "... had a nasty accident," murmured desmond, "i fell down and cut my head..." "we're used to that here, sir," answered the barber, "but the bath'll make you as right as, rain. w'y we 'ad a genel'man in 'ere, only lars' week it was, as 'adn't been 'ome for five days and nights and the coat mos tore off 'is back along with a bit of turn-up 'e'd 'at one o' them night clubs. and drunk i... w'y 'e went to bite the rubber, so they wos tellin' me! but, bless you, 'e 'ad a nice shave and a couple of hours in the bath and a bit of a nap; we got him his clothes as was tore mended up fine for 'im and 'e went 'ome as sober as a judge and as fresh as a daisy!" desmond had it in his mind to protest against this material interpretation of his disreputable state; but the sight in the mirror of his ignominiously scrubby and battered appearance silenced him. the barber's explanation was as good as any, seeing that he himself could give no satisfactory account of the circumstances which had reduced him to his sorry pass. so desmond held his peace though he felt constrained to reject the barber's offer of a pick-me-up. from the shaving saloon, desmond sent a messenger out for some clothes, and for the next three hours amused himself by exhausting the resources of the turkish bath. finally, about the hour of noon, he found himself, considerably refreshed, swathed in towel, reposing on a couch, a cup of coffee at his elbow and that morning's daily telegraph spread out before him. advertisements, so the experts say, are printed on the front and back of newspapers in order to catch the eye of the indolent, on the chance that having exhausted the news, they may glance idly over the front and back of the paper before laying it aside. so desmond, before he even troubled to open his paper, let his gaze wander down the second column of the front page whence issue daily those anguishing appeals, mysterious messages, heart-rending entreaties and barefaced begging advertisements which give this column its characteristic name. there his eye fell on an advertisement couched in the following terms: "if gunner martin barling, th battery, r.f.c., will communicate with messrs. mills & cheyne, solicitors bedford row, w. c., he will hear of something to his advantage. difficulties with the military can be arranged." desmond read this advertisement over once and then, starting at the beginning, read it over again. gunner barling... the name conjured up a picture of a jolly, sun-burned man, always very spick and span, talking the strange lingo of our professional army gleaned from india, aden, malta and the rock, the type of british soldier that put the retreat from mons into the history books for all time. advertisements like this; desmond reflected dreamily, meant legacies as a rule; he was glad of it, for the sake of barling whom he hadn't seen since the far-away days of aldershot before the war. "buzzer" barling was the brother of one private henry barling who had been desmond's soldier-servant. he derived the nickname of "buzzer" from the fact that he was a signaller. as the vicissitudes of service had separated the two brothers for many years, they had profited by the accident of finding themselves at the same station to see as much of one another as possible, and desmond had frequently come across the gunner at his quarters in barracks. henry barling had gone out to france with desmond but a sniper in the wood at villers cotterets had deprived desmond of the best servant and the truest friend he had ever had. now here was henry's brother cropping up again. desmond hoped that "buzzer" barling would see the advertisement, and half asleep, formed a mental resolve to cut out the notice and send it to the gunner who, he felt glad to think, was still alive. the rather curiously worded reference to difficulties with the military must mean, desmond thought, that leave could be obtained for martin barling to come home and collect his legacy. at this point the daily telegraph fell to the ground and desmond went off to sleep. when he awoke, the afternoon hush had fallen upon the bath. he seemed to be the only occupant of the cubicles. his clothes which had arrived from the shop during his slumbers, were very neatly laid out on a couch opposite him. he dressed himself leisurely. the barber was quite right. the bath had made a new man of him. save for a large bump on the back of his head he was none the worse for strangwise's savage blow. the attendant having packed bellward's apparel in the suit-case in which desmond's clothes had come from the club, desmond left the suit-case in the man's charge and strolled out into the soft air of a perfect afternoon. he had discarded his bandage and in his well fitting blue suit and brown boots he was not recognizable as the scrubby wretch who had entered the bath six hours before. desmond strolled idly along the crowded streets in the sunshine. he was rather at a loss as to what his next move should be. now that his mental freshness was somewhat restored, his thoughts began to busy themselves again with the disappearance of barbara mackwayte. he was conscious of a guilty feeling towards barbara. it was not so much the blame he laid upon himself for not being at the mill house to meet her when she came as the sense that he had been unfaithful to the cause of her murdered father. now that he was away from nur-el-din with her pleading eyes and pretty gestures, desmond's thoughts turned again to barbara mackwayte. as he walked along piccadilly, he found himself contrasting the two women as he had contrasted them that night he had met them in nur-el-din's dressing room at the palaceum. and, with a sense of shame; he became aware of how much he had succumbed to the dancer's purely sensual influence; for away from her he found he could regain his independence of thought and action. the thought of barbara in the hands of that woman with the cruel eyes or a victim to the ruthlessness of strangwise made desmond cold with apprehension. if they believed the girl knew where the jewel had disappeared to, they would stop at nothing to force a confession from her; desmond was convinced of that. but what had become of the trio? in vain he cast about him for a clue. as far as he knew, the only london address that strangwise had was the nineveh; and he was as little likely to return there as bellward was to make his way to his little hotel in jermyn street. there remained mrs. malplaquet who, he remembered, had told him of her house at campden hill. for the moment, desmond decided, he must put both strangwise and bellward out of his calculations. the only direction in which he could start his inquiries after barbara mackwayte pointed towards campden hill and mrs. malplaquet. the delightful weather suggested to his mind the idea of walking out to campden hill to pursue his investigations on the spot. so he made his way across the park into kensington gardens heading for the pleasant glades of notting hill. in the bayswater road he turned into a postoffice and consulted the london directory. he very quickly convinced himself that among the hundreds of thousands of names compiled by mr. kelly's indefatigable industry mrs. malplaquet's was not to be found. neither did the street directory show her as the tenant of any of the houses on campden hill. i don't know that there is a more pleasant residential quarter of london than the quiet streets and gardens that straggle over this airy height. the very steepness of the slopes leading up from the kensington high street on the one side and from holland park avenue on the other effectually preserves the atmosphere of old-world languor which envelops this retired spot. the hill, with its approaches so steep as to suggest to the imaginative the pathway winding up some rock-bound fastness of the highlands, successfully defies organ-grinders and motor-buses and other aspirants to the membership in the great society for the propagation of street noises. as you near the summit, the quiet becomes more pronounced until you might fancy yourself a thousand leagues, instead of as many yards, removed from the busy commerce of kensington or the rather strident activity of notting hill. so various in size and condition are the houses that it is as though they had broken away from the heterogeneous rabble of bricks and mortar that makes up the royal borough of kensington, and run up in a crowd to the summit of the hill to look down contemptuously upon their less fortunate brethren in the plain. on campden hill there are houses to suit all purses and all tastes from the vulgar mansion with its private garden to the little one-story stable that art (which flourishes in these parts) and ten shillings worth of paint has converted into a cottage. for half an hour desmond wandered in a desultory fashion along the quiet roads of natty houses with brightly painted doors and shining brass knockers. he had no definite objective; but he hoped rather vaguely to pick up some clue that might lead him to mrs. malplaquet's. he walked slowly along surveying the houses and scrutinizing the faces of the passers-by who were few and far between, yet without coming any nearer the end of his search. it was now growing dusk. enthroned on the summit of the hill the water-tower stood out hard and clear against the evening sky. desmond, who had lost his bearings somewhat in the course of his wanderings, came to a full stop irresolutely, where two streets crossed, thinking that he would retrace his footsteps to the main-road on the chance of picking up a taxi to take him back to town. he chose one of the streets at random; but it proved to be a crescent and brought him back practically to the spot he had started from. thereupon, he took the other and followed it up, ignoring various side-turnings which he feared might be pitfalls like the last: but the second road was as bad as the first. it was a cul de sac and brought desmond face to face with a blank wall. he turned and looked about him for somebody of whom to ask the way. but the street was entirely deserted. he seemed to be on the very summit of the hill; for all the roads were a-tilt. though the evening was falling fast, no light appeared in any of the houses and the street lamps were yet unlit. save for the distant bourdon of the traffic which rose to his ears like the beating of the surf, the breeze rustling the bushes in the gardens was the only sound. desmond started to walk back slowly the way he had come. presently, his eyes caught the gleam of a light from above a front door. when he drew level with it, he saw that a gas-jet was burning in the fanlight over the entrance to a neat little two-story house which stood by itself in a diminutive garden. as by this time he was thoroughly sick of wandering aimlessly about, he went up to the neat little house and rang the bell. a maid-servant in a cap and apron who seemed to be drawn to the scale of the house, such an insignificant little person she was, opened the door. "oh, sir," she exclaimed when she saw him, "was it about the rooms?" and she pointed up at the fan-light where, for the first time, desmond noticed a printed card with the inscription-: "furnished rooms to let." the servant's unexpected question put an idea into desmond's head. he could not return to the club, he reflected, since he was supposed to be killed in action. why not take a room in this house in the heart of the enemy's country and spend some days on the watch for mrs. malplaquet or for any clue that might lead him to her? so desmond answered, yes, it was about the rooms he had come. promising that she would tell "the missus," the little servant showed him into a tiny sitting-room, very clean and bright, with blue cretonne curtains and a blue carpet and an engraving of "king cophetua and the beggar maid" over the mantelpiece. directly you came into the room, everything in it got up and shouted "tottenham court road." then the door opened and, with a great tinkling and rustling, a stoutish, brisk-looking woman sailed in. the tinkling proceeded from the large amount of cheap jewelry with which she was adorned; the rustling from a black and shiny glace silk dress. with every movement she made the large drops she wore in her ears chinked and were answered by a melodious chime from the charm bangles she had on her wrists. she measured desmond in a short glance and his appearance seemed to please her for she smiled as she said in rather a mincing voice: "my (she pronounced it 'may') maid said you wished to see the rooms!" desmond intimated that such was his desire. "pray be seated," said the little woman: "you will understand, i'm sure, that ay am not in the habit of taking in paying guests, but may husband being at the front, ay have a bedroom and this sitting-room free and ay thought..." she stopped and looked sharply at desmond. "you are an officer, i think" she asked. desmond bowed. "may husband is also an officer," replied the woman, "captain viljohn-smythe; you may have met him. no? of course, had you not been of commissioned rank, ay should not..." she trailed off vaguely. desmond inquired her terms and surprised her somewhat by accepting them on the spot. "but you have not seen the bedroom!" protested mrs. viljohn-smythe. "i will take it on trust," desmond replied, "and here," he added, pulling out his note-case, "is a week's rent in advance. i'll go along now and fetch my things. by the way," he went on, "i know some people here at campden hill but very foolishly, i've mislaid the address. malplaquet... mrs. malplaquet. do you happen to know her house?" "ay know most of the naice people living round about here," replied the lady, "but for the moment, ay cannot recollect... was it one of the larger houses on the hill, do you know?" "i'm afraid i don't know," said desmond. "you see, i've lost the address!" "quayte!" returned mrs. viljohn-smythe. "ay can't say ay know the name!" she added. however, she consented to consult the handmaiden, who answered to the name of gladays, as to mrs. malplaquet's address, but she was as ignorant as her mistress. promising to return in the course of the evening with his things and having received exact instructions as to the shortest way to holland park avenue, desmond took his leave. he felt that he had embarked on a wild goose chase; for, even if the fugitives had made their way to mrs. malplaquet's (which was more than doubtful) he imagined they would take care to lie very low so that his chances of coming across any of them were of the most meager. following the directions he had received, he made his way easily back to the main road. he halted under a street-lamp to catch the eye of any passing taxi which might happen to be disengaged. a dirty faced man in a greasy old suit and a spotted handkerchief knotted about his throat came slouching along the pavement, keeping close to the wall. on catching sight of desmond's face by the light of the lamp, he stopped irresolutely and then advanced slowly towards him. "excuse me, sir!" he said falteringly. desmond looked round at the sound of the man's voice and seeing a typical street loafer, asked the fellow to get him a taxi. "it is captain okewood," said the loafer, "you don't remember me, sir?" desmond looked at the dirty, rather haggard face with its unshaven chin and shook his head. "i don't think i do," he answered, "though you seem to know my name!" the vagrant fumbled in his pocket for a minute and extracting a scrap of paper, unfolded it and held it out to desmond. "that's me, sir!" he said, "and, oh, sir! if you would kindly help me with a word of good advice, just for old times' sake, i'd be very grateful!" desmond took the scrap of paper which the man tendered and held it so as to catch the rays of the lamp. it was a fragment torn from a newspaper. he had hardly set eyes on the cutting than he stretched out his hand to the vagrant. "why, gunner barling," he cried, "i didn't know you! how on earth do you come to be in this state?" the man looked shamefacedly down on the ground. "i'm a deserter, sir!" he said in a low voice. "are you, by george?" replied desmond, "and now i come to think of it, so am i!" chapter xxv. to mrs. malplaquet's clasping barbara's wrist in a bony grip, mrs. malplaquet sat at the girl's side in the back seat of the limousine whilst bellward placed himself on the seat opposite. the car was powerfully engined; and, once the cart track up to the inn was passed and the main road reached, strangwise opened her out. by the track leading to the inn the high road made a right angle turn to the right. this turn they took, leaving the mill house away in the distance to the left of them, and, after skirting the fen for some way and threading a maze of side roads, presently debouched on a straight, broad road. dazed and shaken by her experiences, barbara lost all count of time, but after running for some time through the open country in the gray light of dawn, they reached the edge of those long tentacles of bricks and mortar which london thrusts out from her on every side. the outer fringes of the metropolis were still sleeping as the great car roared by. the snug "high streets," the red brick "parades" and "broadways," with their lines of houses with blinds drawn, seemed to have their eyes shut, so blank, so somnolent was their aspect. with their lamps alight, the first trams were gliding out to begin the new day, as the big car swiftly traversed the eastern suburbs of london. to barbara, who had had her home at seven kings, there was something familiar about the streets as they flickered by; but her powers of observation were dulled, so great was the sense of helplessness that weighed her down. high-booted scavengers with curious snake-like lengths of hose on little trolleys were sluicing the asphalt as the limousine snorted past the mansion house into poultney and cheapside. the light was growing clearer now; the tube stations were open and from time to time a motor-bus whizzed by. barbara stirred restlessly and mrs. malplaquet's grip on her wrist tightened. "where are you taking me?" the girl said. mrs. malplaquet spoke a single word. "bellward!" she said in a gentle voice; but it was a voice of command. bellward leaned forward. "look at me, miss mackwayte!" he said. there was a curious insistence in his voice that made barbara obey. she struggled for a moment against the impulse to do his bidding; for some agency within her told her to resist the summons. but an irresistible force seemed to draw her eyes to his. bellward did not move. he simply leaned forward a little, his hands on his knees, and looked at her. barbara could not see his eyes, for the light in the car was still dim, but inch by inch they captured hers. she looked at the black outline of his head and instantly was conscious of a wave of magnetic power that transmitted itself from his will to hers. she would have cried out, have struggled, have sought to break away; but that invisible dance held her as in a vice. a little gasp broke from her lips; but that was all. "so!" said bellward with the little sigh of a man who has just accomplished some bodily effort, "so! you will keep quiet now and do as i tell you. you understand?" no reply came from the girl. she had thrust her head forward and was gazing fixedly at the man. bellward leaned towards the girl until his stubbly hair actually touched her soft brown curls. he was gazing intently at her eyes. he was apparently well satisfied with his inspection, for he gave a sigh of satisfaction and turned to mrs. malplaquet. "she'll give no more trouble now!" he remarked airily. "ah! bellward," sighed mrs. malplaquet, "you're incomparable! what an undefeatable combination you and i would have made if we'd met twenty years sooner!" and she threw him a coquettish glance. "ah, indeed!" returned bellward pensively. "but a night like this makes me feel twenty years older, minna. he's a daredevil, this strangwise. imagine going back to that infernal inn when the police might have broken in on us any minute. but he is a determined chap. he doesn't seem to know what it is to be beaten. he wanted to make sure that nur-el-din had not recovered the jewel from him, though he declares that it has never left him day or night since he got possession of it. he fairly made hay of her room back at the inn there." "well," said mrs. malplaquet rather spitefully, "he seems to be beaten this time. he hasn't found his precious star of poland." "no," answered the man reflectively, "but i think he will!" mrs. malplaquet laughed shrilly. "and how, may i ask? from what strangwise told me himself, the thing has utterly vanished. and he doesn't seem to have any clue as to who has taken it!" "perhaps not," replied bellward, who appeared to have a high opinion of strangwise, "but, like all germans, our friend is thorough. if he does not see the direct road, he proceeds by a process of elimination until he hits upon it. he did not expect to find the jewel in nur-el-din's room; he told me as much himself, but he searched because he is thorough in everything. do you know why he really went back to the dyke inn?" "why?" asked mrs. malplaquet. "to secure our young friend here," answered bellward with a glance at barbara. mrs. malplaquet made a little grimace to bid him to be prudent in what he said before the girl. "bah!" the man laughed, "you understand nothing of what we are saying, do you?" he said, addressing barbara. the girl moved uneasily. "i understand nothing of what you are saying," she replied in a strained voice. "this girl was the last person to have the jewel before strangwise," bellward said, continuing his conversation with mrs. malplaquet, "and she is employed at the headquarters of the secret service. strangwise was satisfied that nobody connected him with the theft of the silver box which nur-el-din gave to this girl until our young lady here appeared at the dyke inn yesterday afternoon. nur-el-din played his game for him by detaining the girl. strangwise believes--and i must say i agree with him--that probably two persons know where the star of poland is. one is this girl..." "the other being the late mr. bellward?" queried mrs. malplaquet. "precisely. the late mr. bellward or major desmond okewood!" said bellward. "between him and this girl here i think we ought to be able to recover strangwise's lost property for him!" "but you haven't got okewood yet!" observed the lady in a mocking voice. the man looked evilly at her, his heavy, fat chin set square. "but we shall get him, never fear. with a little bird-lime as attractive as this--" he broke off and jerked his head in the direction of barbara. "... i shall do the rest!" he added. "ah!" mrs. malplaquet drew a deep sigh of admiration. "that's a clever idea. he is so _rusé_, this strangwise. you are quite right, bellward, he never admits himself beaten. and he never is! but tell me," she added, "what about nur-el-din? they'll nab her, eh?" "unless our british friends are even more inefficient than i believe them to be, they most certainly will," he replied. "and then?" bellward shrugged his shoulders and spread wide his hands. "a little morning ceremony at the tower," he answered, "unless these idiotic english are too sentimental to execute a woman..." the car was running down the long slope to paddington station. it drew up at the entrance to the booking office, and strangwise, springing from the driver's seat, flung open the door. "come on!" he cried, "we must look sharp or we'll miss our train!" he dragged a couple of bags off the roof and led the way into the station. in the booking-hall he inquired of a porter what time the express left for bath, then went to the ticket office and took four first-class tickets to that place. meanwhile, the car remained standing empty in the carriageway. strangwise led his little party up some stairs and across a long bridge, down some stairs and up some stairs again, emerging, finally, at the bakerloo tube station. there he despatched bellward to fetch a taxi. taxis are rare in the early hours of the morning in war-time and bellward was gone fully twenty minutes. strangwise fidgeted continually, drawing out his watch repeatedly and casting many anxious glances this way and that. his nervous demeanor began to affect mrs. malplaquet, who had linked her arm affectionately in barbara's. the girl remained absolutely apathetic. indeed, she seemed almost as one in a trance. "aren't we going to bath?" at length demanded mrs. malplaquet of strangwise. "don't ask questions!" snapped the latter. "but the car?" asked the lady. "hold your tongue!" commanded the officer; and mrs. malplaquet obeyed. then mr. bellward returned with the news that he had at last got a taxi. strangwise turned to bellward. "can minna and the girl go to campden hill alone?" he asked. "or will the girl try and break away, do you think?" bellward held up his hand to enjoin silence. "you will go along with mrs. malplaquet," he said to barbara in his low purring voice, "you will stay with her until i come. you understand?" "i will go with mrs. malplaquet!" the girl replied in the same dull tone as before. "upon my word," exclaimed mrs. malplaquet, "you might have told me that we were going to my own place..." but strangwise shut her up. "bellward and i will come on by tube... it is safer," he said, "hurry, hurry! we must all be under cover by eight o'clock... we have no time to lose!" chapter xxvi. the man in the summer-house the hour of the theatre rush was long since over and its passing had transformed the taxi-drivers from haughty autocrats to humble suppliants. one taxi after another crawled slowly past the street corner where desmond had stood for over an hour in deep converse with gunner barling, but neither flaunting flag nor appealingly uplifted finger attracted the slightest attention from the athletic-looking man who was so earnestly engaged in talk with a tramp. but at last the conversation was over; the two men separated and the next taxi passing thereafter picked up a fare. at nine o'clock the next morning desmond appeared for breakfast in his sitting-room at santona road; for such was the name of the street in which his new rooms were situated. when he had finished his meal, he summoned gladys and informed her that he would be glad to speak to mrs. viljohn-smythe. that lady having duly answered the summons, desmond asked whether, in consideration of terms to be mutually agreed upon, she could accommodate his soldier servant. he explained that the last-named was of the most exemplary character and threw out a hint of the value of a batman for such tasks as the cleaning of the family boots and the polishing of brass or silver. the landlady made no objections and half an hour later a clean and respectable-looking man arrived whom desmond with difficulty recognized as the wretched vagrant of the previous evening. this was, indeed, the gunner barling he used to know, with his smooth-shaven chin and neat brown moustache waxed at the ends and characteristic "quiff" decorating his brow. and so desmond and his man installed themselves at santona road. the house was clean and comfortable, and mrs. viljohn-smythe, for all her "refaynement," as she would have called it, proved herself a warm-hearted, motherly soul. desmond had a small but comfortably furnished bedroom at the top of the house, on the second floor, with a window which commanded a view of the diminutive garden and the back of a row of large houses standing on the lower slopes of the hill. so precipitous was the fall of the ground, indeed, that desmond could look right into the garden of the house backing on mrs. viljohn-smythe's. this garden had a patch of well-kept green sward in the centre with a plaster nymph in the middle, while in one corner stood a kind of large summer-house or pavilion built on a slight eminence, with a window looking into mrs. viljohn-smythe's' back garden. in accordance with a plan of action he had laid down in his mind, desmond took all his meals at his rooms. the rest of the day he devoted to walking about the streets of campden hill and setting on foot discreet inquiries after mrs. malplaquet amongst the local tradespeople. for three or four days he carried out this arrangement without the slightest success. he dogged the footsteps of more than one gray-haired lady of distinguished appearance without lighting upon his quarry. he bestowed largesse on the constable on point duty, on the milkman and the baker's young lady; but none of them had ever heard of mrs. malplaquet or recognized her from desmond's description. on the morning of the fourth day desmond returned to lunch, dispirited and heart-sick. he had half a mind to abandon his quest altogether and to go and make his peace with the chief and ask to be sent back to france. he ate his lunch and then, feeling that it would be useless to resume his aimless patrol of the streets, lit a cigar and strolled out into the little back-garden. it was a fine, warm afternoon, and already the crocuses were thrusting their heads out of the neat flower-beds as if to ascertain whether the spring had really arrived. there was, indeed, a pleasant vernal scent in the air. "a fine day!" said a voice. desmond looked up. at the open window of the summerhouse of the garden backing on mrs. viljohn-smythe's, his elbows resting on the pitch-pine frame, was a middle-aged man. a cigarette was in his mouth and from his hands dangled a newspaper. he had a smooth-shaven, heavily-jowled face and a large pair of tortoise-shell spectacles on his nose. desmond remembered to have seen the man already looking out of a window opposite his on one of the upper floors of the house. in reply to a casual inquiry, mrs. viljohn-smythe had informed him that the house was a nursing home kept by a dr. radcombe, a nerve specialist. "it is quite like spring!" replied desmond, wondering if this were the doctor. doctors get about a good deal and dr. radcombe might be able to tell him something about mrs. malplaquet. "i think we have seen one another in the mornings sometimes," said the heavily-fowled man, "though i have noticed that you are an earlier riser than i am. but when one is an invalid--" "you are one of dr. radcombe's patients, then!" said desmond. "i am," returned the other, "a great man, that, my dear sir. i doubt if there is his equal for diagnosis in the kingdom." "he has lived here for some years, i suppose?" "oh yes!" answered the man, "in fact, he is one of the oldest and most-respected residents of kensington, i believe!" "i am rather anxious to find some friends of mine who live about here," desmond remarked, quick to seize his opportunity, "i wonder whether your doctor could help me..." "i'm sure he could," the man replied, "the doctor knows everybody..." "the name--" began desmond, but the other checked him. "please don't ask me to burden my memory with names," he protested. "i am here for a complete rest from over-work, and loss of memory is one of my symptoms. but look here; why not come over the wall and step inside the house with me? dr. radcombe is there and will, i am sure, be delighted to give you any assistance in his power!" desmond hesitated. "really," he said, "it seems rather unconventional. perhaps the doctor would object..." "object" said the heavily-fowled man, "tut, tut, not at all. come on, i'll give you a hand up!" he thrust out a large, white hand. desmond was about to grasp it when he saw gleaming on the third finger a gold snake ring with emerald eyes--the ring that mrs. malplaquet had given bellward. he was about to draw back but the man was too quick for him. owing to the slope of the ground the window of the summer-house was on a level with desmond's throat. the man's two hands shot out simultaneously. one grasped desmond's wrist in a steel grip whilst the other fastened itself about the young man's throat, squeezing the very breath out of his body. it was done so quickly that he had no time to struggle, no time to shout. as bellward seized him, another arm was shot out of the window. desmond felt himself gripped by the collar and lifted, by a most amazing effort of strength, bodily over the wall. his brain swimming with the pressure on his throat, he struggled but feebly to recover his freedom. however, as desmond was dropped heavily on to the grass on the other side of the wall, bellward's grip relaxed just for a second and in that instant desmond made one desperate bid for liberty. he fell in a crouching position and, as he felt bellward loosen his hold for a second with the jerk of his victim's fall, desmond straightened himself up suddenly, catching his assailant a violent blow with his head on the point of the chin. bellward fell back with a crash on to the timber flooring of the pavilion. desmond heard his head strike the boards with a thud, heard a muttered curse. he found himself standing in a narrow lane, less than three feet wide, which ran between the garden wall and the summer-house; for the pavilion, erected on a slight knoll surrounded by turf, was not built against the wall as is usually the case with these structures. in this narrow space desmond stood irresolute for the merest fraction of a second. it was not longer; for, directly after bellward had crashed backwards, desmond heard a light step reverberate within the planks of the summerhouse. his most obvious course was to scramble back over the wall again into safety, in all thankfulness at having escaped so violent an attack. but he reflected that bellward was here and that surely meant that the others were not far off. in that instant as he heard the stealthy footstep cross the floor of the summer-house, desmond resolved he would not leave the garden until he had ascertained whether barbara mackwayte was there. desmond decided that he would stay where he was until he no longer heard that footstep on the planks within; for then the person inside the summer-house would have reached the grass at the door. desmond remembered the arm which had shot out beside bellward at the window and swung him so easily off his feet. he knew only one man capable of achieving that very respectable muscular performance; for desmond weighed every ounce of twelve stone. that man was maurice strangwise. as soon as the creaking of the timbers within ceased, desmond moved to the left following the outer wall of the pavilion. on the soft green sward his feet made no sound. presently he came to a window which was let in the side of the summerhouse opposite the window from which bellward had grappled with him. raising his eyes to the level of the sill, desmond took a cautious peep. he caught a glimpse of the face of maurice strangwise, brows knit, nostrils dilated, the very picture of venomous, watchful rancor. strangwise had halted and was now looking back over the wall into mrs. viljohn-smythe's back garden. was it possible, desmond wondered, that he could believe that desmond had scrambled back over the wall? strangwise remained motionless, his back now fully turned to desmond, peering into the other garden. the garden in which the summer-house stood was oblong in shape and more than twice as broad as it was long. the pavilion was not more than forty yards from the back entrance of the house. desmond weighed in his mind the possibility of being able to dash across those forty yards, the turf deadening the sound of his feet, before strangwise turned round again. the entrance to the back of the house was through a door in the side of the house, to which two or three wrought-iron steps gave access. once he had gained the steps desmond calculated that the side of the house would shelter him from strangwise's view. he turned these things over in his mind in the twinkling of an eye; for all his life he had been used to quick decision and quick action. to cover those forty yards across the open in one bound was, he decided, too much to risk; for he must at all costs gain access to the house and discover, if possible, whether barbara mackwayte were confined within, before he was caught. then his eye fell on the plaster nymph in the middle of the grass. she was a stoutly-built female, life-size, standing upon a solid-looking pedestal fully four feet broad. desmond measured the distance separating him from the nymph. it was not more than twenty yards at the outside and the pedestal would conceal him from the eyes of strangwise if the latter should turn round before he had made his second bound and reached the steps at the side of the house. he peeped through the window again. strangwise stood in his old attitude gazing over the garden wall. then desmond acted. taking long strides on the points of his toes, he gained the statue and crouched down behind it. even as he started, he heard a loud grunt from the inside of the summerhouse and from his cover behind the nymph saw strangwise turn quickly and enter the summerhouse. on that desmond sprang to his feet again, heedless of whether he was seen from the house, ran lightly across the grass and reached the steps at the side of the house. the door stood ajar. he stood still on the top step and listened for a moment. the house was wrapped in silence. not a sign of life came from within. but now he heard voices from the garden and they were the voices of two angry men, raised in altercation. as he listened, they drew nearer. desmond tarried no longer. he preferred the unknown perils which that silent house portended to the real danger advancing from the garden. he softly pushed the door open and slipped into the house. chapter xxvii. the red lacquer room the side-door led into a little white passage with a green baize door at the end. a staircase, which from its white-washed treads, desmond judged to be the back stairs, gave on the passage. calculating that the men in the garden would be certain to use the main staircase, desmond took the back stairs which, on the first landing, brought him face to face with a green baize door, similar in every respect to that on the floor below. he pushed this door open and listened. hearing nothing he passed on through it. he found himself in a broad corridor on to which gave the main staircase from below and its continuation to the upper floors. three rooms opened on to this corridor, a large drawing-room, a small study and what was obviously the doctor's consulting room, from the operating table and the array of instruments set out in glass cases. the rooms were empty and desmond was about to return to the back stairs and proceed to the next floor when his attention was caught by a series of framed photographs with which the walls of the corridor were lined. these were groups of doctors taken at various medical congresses. you will find such photographs in many doctors' houses. below each group were neatly printed the names of the persons therein represented. anxious to see what manner of man was this doctor radcombe in whose house spies were apparently at liberty to consort with impunity, desmond looked for his name. there it was--dr. a. j. radcombe. but, on looking at the figure above the printed line, what was his astonishment to recognize the angular features and drooping moustache of "no. "! there was no possible mistake about it. the photographs were excellent and desmond had no difficulty in identifying the eccentric-looking german in each of them. so this was mrs. malplaquet's house, was it? a nursing-home run by "no. ," who in addition to being a spy, would seem to have been a nerve specialist as well. in this guise, no doubt, he had made trips to the south of england which had gained for him that intimate acquaintance with portsmouth and southsea of which he had boasted at the gathering in the library. in this capacity, moreover, he had probably met bellward whose "oggult" powers, to which "no. " had alluded, seem to point to mesmerism and kindred practices in which german neurasthenic research has made such immense progress. pondering over his surprising discovery, desmond pursued his way to the floor above. here, too, was a green baize door which opened on to a corridor. desmond walked quickly along it, glancing in, as he passed, at the open doors of two or three bedrooms. just beyond where the staircase crossed the corridor were two doors, both of which were closed. the one was a white door and might have been a bathroom; the other was enameled a brilliant, glossy red. the second floor was as silent and deserted as the corridor below. but just as desmond passed the head of the main staircase he heard the sound of voices. he glanced cautiously down the well of the stairs and saw strangwise and bellward talking together. bellward was on the stairs while strangwise stood in the corridor. "it's our last chance," strangwise was saying. "no, no," bellward replied heatedly, "i tell you it is madness. we must not delay a minute. for heaven's sake, leave the girl alone and let's save ourselves." "what?" cried strangwise, "and abandon minna!" "minna is well able to look after herself," answered bellward in a sulky voice, "it's a question of sauve qui peut now... every man for himself!" "no!" said strangwise firmly, "we'll wait for minna, bellward. you exaggerate the danger. i tell you i was at the garden wall within a few seconds of our friend laying you out, and i saw no sign of him in his garden. it was a physical impossibility for him to have got over the wall and back into the house in the time. and in his garden there's nowhere to hide. it's as bare as the sahara!" "but, good heavens!" cried bellward, throwing his hands excitedly above his head, "the man can't dissolve into thin air. he's gone back to the house, i tell you, and the police will be here at any minute. you know he's not in our garden; for you searched every nook and corner of it yourself. okewood may be too clever for you, strangwise; but he's not a magician!" "no," said strangwise sternly, "he is not." and he added in a low voice: "that's why i am convinced that he is in this house!" desmond felt his heart thump against his ribs. bellward seemed surprised for he cried quickly: "what? here?" strangwise nodded. "you stand here gossiping with that man loose in the house?" exclaimed bellward vehemently, "why the next thing we know the fellow will escape us again!" "oh, no, he won't" retorted the other. "every window on the ground floor is barred... this is a home for neurasthenics, you know, and that is sometimes a polite word for a lunatic, my friend... and the doors, both front and back are locked. the keys are here!" desmond heard a jingle as strangwise slapped his pocket. "all the same," the latter went on, "it is as well to be prepared for a sudden change of quarters. that's why i want you to finish off the girl at once. come along, we'll start now..." "no, no!" declared bellward. "i'm far too upset. you seem to think you can turn me on and off like you do the gas!" "well, as you like," said strangwise, "but the sooner we clear up this thing the better. i'm going to see if our clever young friend has taken refuge in the servants' quarters upstairs. he's not on this floor, that's certain!" desmond drew back in terror. he heard the green baize door on the floor below swing back as strangwise went out to the back stairs and bellward's heavy step ascended the main staircase. there was something so horribly sinister in that firm, creaking tread as it mounted towards him that for the moment he lost his head. he looked round wildly for a place of concealment; but the corridor was bare. facing him was the red enamel door. boldly he turned the handle and walked in, softly closing the door behind him. it was as though he had stepped into another world. the room in which he found himself was a study in vivid red emphasized by black. red and black; these were the only colors in the room. the curtains, which were of black silk, were drawn, though it was not yet dark outside, and from the ceiling was suspended a lamp in the shape of a great scarlet bowl which cast an eerie red light on one of the most bizarre apartments that desmond had ever seen. it was a lacquer room in the chinese style, popularized by the craze for barbaric decoration introduced by bakst and the russian ballet into england. the walls were enameled the same brilliant glossy red as the door and hung at intervals with panels of magnificent black and gold lacquer work. the table which ran down the centre of the room was of scarlet and gold lacquer like the fantastically designed chairs and the rest of the furniture. the heavy carpet was black. desmond did not take in all these details at once; for his attention was immediately directed to a high-backed armchair covered in black satin which stood with its back to the door. he stared at this chair; for, peeping out above the back, making a splash of deep golden brown against the black sheen of the upholstery, was a mass of curls... barbara mackwayte's hair. as he advanced towards the girl, she moaned in a high, whimpering voice: "no, no, not again! let me sleep! please, please, leave me alone!" desmond sprang to her side. "barbara!" he cried and never noticed that he called her by her christian name. barbara mackwayte sat in the big black armchair, facing the black-curtained window. her face was pale and drawn, and there were black circles under her eyes. there was a listless yet highly-strung look about her that you see in people who habitually take drugs. she heeded not the sound of his voice. it was as though he had not spoken. she only continued to moan and mutter, moving her body about uneasily as a child does when its sleep is disturbed by nightmares. then, to his inexpressible horror, desmond saw that her feet were bound with straps to the legs of the chair. her arms were similarly tethered to the arms of the chair, but her hands had been left free. "barbara!" said desmond softly, "you know me! i'm desmond okewood! i've come to take you home!" the word "home" seemed to catch the girl's attention; for now she turned her head and looked at the young man. the expression in her eyes, wide and staring, was horrible; for it was the look of a tortured animal. desmond was bending to unbind the straps that fastened barbara's arms when he heard a step outside the door. the curtains in front of the window were just beside him. they were long and reached to the floor. without a second's hesitation he slipped behind them and found himself in the recess of a shallow bow window. the bow window was in three parts and the central part was open wide at the bottom. it gave on a little balcony which was in reality the roof of a bow window of one of the rooms on the floor below. desmond promptly scrambled out of the window and letting himself drop on to the balcony crouched down blow the sill. a door opened in the room he had just left. he heard steps moving about and cupboards opened and shut. then, there was the sound of curtains being drawn back and a voice said just above him: "he's not here! i tell you the fellow's not in the house! now perhaps you'll believe me!" the balcony was fairly deep and it was growing dusk; but desmond could scarcely hope to escape detection if bellward, for he had recognized his voice, should think of leaning out of the window and looking down upon the balcony. with his coat collar turned up to hide the treacherous white of his linen, desmond pressed himself as close as possible against the side of the house and waited for the joyful cry that would proclaim that he had been discovered. there was no possible means of escape; for the balcony stood at an angle of the house with no windows or water-pipes anywhere within reach, to give him a foothold, looking out on an inhospitable and gloomy area. whether bellward, who appeared bent only on getting away from the house without delay, examined the balcony or not, desmond did not know; but after the agony of suspense had endured for what seemed to him an hour, he heard strangwise say: "it's no good, bellward! i'm not satisfied! and until i am satisfied that okewood is not here, i don't leave this house. and that's that!" bellward swore savagely. "we've searched the garden and not found him: we've ransacked the house from top to bottom without result. the fellow's not here; but by god, he'll be here presently with a bunch of police, and then it'll be too late! for the last time, strangwise, will you clear out?" there was a moment's pause. then desmond heard strangwise's clear, calm voice. "there's a balcony there... below the window, i mean." "i've looked," replied bellward, "and he's not there. you can see for yourself!" the moment of discovery had arrived. to desmond the strain seemed unbearable and to alleviate it, he began to count, as one counts to woo sleep. one! two! three! four! he heard a grating noise as the window was pushed further up. five! six! seven! eight! "strange!" strangwise muttered the word just above desmond's head. then, to his inexpressible relief, he heard the other add: "he's not there!" and desmond realized that the depth of the balcony had saved him. short of getting out of the window, as he had done, the others could not see him. the two men returned to the room and silence fell once more. outside on the damp balcony in the growing darkness desmond was fighting down the impulse to rush in and stake all in one desperate attempt to rescue the girl from her persecutors. but he was learning caution; and he knew he must bide his time. some five minutes elapsed during which desmond could detect no definite sound from the red lacquer room except the occasional low murmur of voices. then, suddenly, there came a high, quavering cry from the girl. desmond raised himself quickly erect, his ear turned so as to catch every sound from the room. the girl wailed again, a plaintive, tortured cry that seemed to issue forth unwillingly from her. "my god!" said desmond to himself, "i can't stand this!" his head was level with the sill of the window which was fortunately broad. getting a good grip on the rough cement with his hands, he hoisted himself up on to the sill, by the sheer force of his arms alone, sat poised there for an instant, then very lightly and without any noise, clambered through the window and into the room. even as he did so, the girl cried out again. "i can't! i can't!" she wailed. every nerve in desmond's body was tingling with rage. the blood was hotly throbbing against his temples and he was literally quivering all over with fury. but he held himself in check. this time he must not fail. both those men were armed, he knew. what chance could he, unarmed as he was, have against them? he must wait, wait, that they might not escape their punishment. steadying the black silk curtains with his hands, he looked through the narrow chink where the two panels met. and this was what he saw. barbara mackwayte was still in the chair; but they had unfastened her arms though her feet were still bound. she had half-risen from her seat. her body was thrust forward in a strained, unnatural attitude; her eyes were wide open and staring; and there was a little foam on her lips. there was something hideously deformed, horribly unlife-like about her. though her eyes were open, her look was the look of the blind; and, like the blind, she held her head a little on one side as though eager not to miss the slightest sound. bellward stood beside her, his face turned in profile to desmond. his eyes were dilated and the sweat stood out in great beads on his forehead and trickled in broad lanes of moisture down his heavy cheeks. he was half-facing the girl and every time he bent towards her, she tugged and strained at her bonds as though to follow him. "you say he has been here. where is he? where is he? you shall tell me where he is." bellward was speaking in a strange, vibrating voice. every question appeared to be a tremendous nervous effort. desmond, who was keenly sensitive to matters psychic, could almost feel the magnetic power radiating from the man. in the weird red light of the room, he could see the veins standing out like whipcords on the back of bellward's hands. "tell me where he is? i command you!" the girl wailed out again in agony and writhed in her bonds. her voice rose to a high, gurgling scream. "there!" she cried, pointing with eyes staring, lips parted, straight at the curtains behind which desmond stood. chapter xxviii. an offer from strangwise desmond sprang for the window; but it was too late. strangwise who had not missed a syllable of the interrogatory was at the curtains in a flash. as he plucked the hangings back, desmond made a rush for him; but strangwise, wary as ever, kept his head and, drawing back, jabbed his great automatic almost in the other's face. and then desmond knew the game was up. barbara had collapsed in her chair. her face was of an ivory pallor and she seemed to have fallen back into the characteristic hypnotic trance. as for bellward, he had dropped on to a sofa, a loose mass, exhausted but missing nothing of what was going forward, though, for the moment, he seemed too spent to take any active part in the proceedings. in the meantime strangwise, his white, even teeth bared in a quiet smile, was very steadily looking at his prisoner. "well, desmond," he said at last, "here's a pleasant surprise! i thought you were dead!" desmond said nothing. he was not a coward as men go; but he was feeling horribly afraid just then. the deviltry of the scene he had just witnessed had fairly unmanned him. the red and black setting of the room had a suggestion of oriental cruelty in its very garishness. desmond looked from strangwise, cool and smiling, to bellward, gross and beastly, and from the two men to barbara, wan and still and defenceless. and he was afraid. then bellward scrambled clumsily to his feet, plucking a revolver from his inside pocket as he did so. "you sneaking rascal," he snarled, "we'll teach you to play your dirty tricks on us!" he raised the pistol; but strangwise stepped between the man and his victim. "kill him!" cried bellward, "and let's be rid of him once and for all!" "what" said strangwise. "kill desmond? ah, no, my friend, i don't think so!" and he added drily: "at least not quite yet!" "but you must be mad," exclaimed bellward, toying impatiently with his weapon, "you let him escape through your fingers before! i know his type. a man like him is only safe when he's dead. and if you won't..." "now, bellward," said strangwise not budging but looking the other calmly in the eye, "you're getting excited, you know." but bellward muttered thickly: "kill him! that's all i ask. and let's get out of here! i tell you it isn't safe! minna can shift for herself!" he added sulkily. "as she has always done!" said a voice at the door. mrs. malplaquet stood there, a very distinguished looking figure in black with a handsome set of furs. "but who's this?" she asked, catching sight of desmond, as she flashed her beady black eyes round the group. of barbara she took not the slightest notice. desmond remarked it and her indifference shocked him profoundly. "of course, you don't recognize him!" said strangwise. "this is major desmond okewood, more recently known as mr. basil bellward!" the woman evinced no surprise. "so!" she said, "i thought we'd end by getting him. well, strangwise, what are we waiting for? is our friend to live for ever?" "that's what i want to know!" bellowed bellward savagely. "i have not finished with our friend here!" observed strangwise. "no, no," cried mrs. malplaquet quickly, strangwise, "you've had your lesson. you've lost the jewel and you're not likely to get it back unless you think that this young man has come here with it on him. do you want to lose your life, the lives of all of us, as well? come, come, the fellow's no earthly good to us! and he's a menace to us all as long as he's alive!" "minna," said strangwise, "you must trust me. besides..." he leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. "now," he resumed aloud, "you shall take bellward downstairs and leave me to have a little chat with our friend here." to bellward he added: "minna will tell you what i said. but first," he pointed to barbara who remained apparently lifeless in her chair, "bring her round. and then i think she'd better go to bed." "but what about the treatment to-night" asked mrs. malplaquet. strangwise smiled mysteriously. "i'm not sure that any further treatment will be required," he said. in the meantime, bellward had leaned over the girl and with a few passes of his hand had brought her back to consciousness. she sat up, one hand pressed to her face, and looked about her in a dazed fashion. on recognizing desmond she gave a little cry. "take her away!" commanded strangwise. bellward had unfastened the ropes binding her feet, and he and mrs. malplaquet between them half-dragged, half-lifted the girl (for she was scarcely able to walk) from the room. when the door had closed behind them, strangwise pointed to a chair and pulled out his cigarette case. "sit down, desmond," he said, "and let's talk. will you smoke?" he held out his case. a cigarette was the one thing for which desmond craved. he took one and lit it. strangwise sat down on the other side of a curiously carved ebony table, his big automatic before him. "i guess you're sharp enough to know when you're beaten, desmond," he said. "you've put up a good fight and until this afternoon you were one up on me. i'll grant you that. and i don't mind admitting that you've busted up my little organization--for the present at any rate. but i'm on top now and you're in our power, old man." "well," replied desmond shortly, "what are you going to do about it?" "i'm going to utilize my advantage to the best i know how," retorted strangwise, snapping the words, "that's good strategy, isn't it, desmond? that's what hamley and all the military writers teach, isn't it? and i'm going to be frank with you. i suppose you realize that your life hung by a thread in this very room only a minute ago. do you know why i intervened to save you?" desmond smiled. all his habitual serenity was coming back to him. he found it hard to realize that this old brother officer of his, blowing rings of cigarette smoke at him across the table, was an enemy. "i don't suppose it was because of the love you bear me," replied desmond. and he rubbed the bump on his head. strangwise noted the action and smiled. "listen here," he resumed, planking his hands down on the table and leaning forward, "i'm ready and anxious to quit this spying business. it was only a side line with me anyway. my main object in coming to this country was to recover possession of that diamond star. once i've got it back, i'm through with england..." "but not with the army," desmond broke in, "thank god, we've got a swift way with traitors in this country!" "quite so," returned the other, "but you see, my friend, the army hasn't got me. and i have got you! but let us drop talking platitudes," he went on. "i'm no great hand at driving a bargain, desmond--few army men are, you know--so i won't even attempt to chaffer with you. i shall tell you straight out what i am ready to offer. you were given the job of breaking up this organization, weren't you?" desmond was silent. he was beginning to wonder what strangwise was driving at. "oh, you needn't trouble to deny it. i never spotted you, i admit, even when the real bellward turned up: that idea of putting your name in the casualty list as 'killed' was a masterstroke; for i never looked to find you alive and trying to put it across me. but to return to what i was saying--your job was to smash my little system, and if you pull it off, it's a feather in your cap. well, you've killed two of my people and you've arrested the ringleader." "meaning behrend?" asked desmond. "behrend be hanged! i mean nur-el-din!" "nur-el-din was not the ringleader," said desmond, "as well you know, strangwise!" "your employers evidently don't share your views, desmond," he replied, "all the documents were found on nur-el-din!" "bah!" retorted desmond, "and what of it? mightn't they have been planted on her in order to get her arrested to draw the suspicion away from the real criminal, yourself?" strangwise laughed a low, mellow laugh. "you're devilish hard to convince," he remarked. "perhaps you'll change your mind about it when i tell you that nur-el-din was sentenced to death by a general court-martial yesterday afternoon." the blow struck desmond straight between the eyes. the execution of spies followed hard on their conviction, he knew. was he too late? "has... has she... has the sentence already been carried out?" he asked hoarsely. strangwise shrugged his shoulders. "my information didn't go as far as that!" he replied. "but i expect so. they don't waste much time over these matters, old man! you see, then," he continued, "you've got the ringleader, and you shall have the other two members of the organization and save your own life into the bargain if you will be reasonable and treat with me." desmond looked straight at him; and strangwise averted his eyes. "let me get this right," said desmond slowly. "you let me go free--of course, i take it that my liberty includes the release of miss mackwayte as well--and in addition, you hand over to me your two accomplices, bellward and the malplaquet woman. that is your offer, isn't it? well, what do you want from me in exchange?" "the star of poland!" said strangwise in a low voice. "but," desmond began. he was going to add "i haven't got it," but checked himself in time. why should he show his hand? strangwise broke in excitedly. "man," he cried, "it was grandly done. when first i discovered the gem, i opened the package in which the silver box was wrapped and took the jewel from its case to make sure that it was there. then i sealed it up again, silver box and all, with the firm intention that no other hand should break the seals but the hand of his imperial highness the crown prince when i reported to him that i had fulfilled my mission. so you will understand that i was loth to open it to satisfy those blockheads that evening at the mill house. "i carried the package on me night and day and i could hardly believe my eyes when i discovered that a box of cigarettes had been substituted for the silver casket containing the jewel. i then suspected that barbara mackwayte, in collusion with nur-el-din, whom she had visited at the dyke inn that evening, had played this trick on me. but before i escaped from the mill house i picked up one of the cigarettes which fell from the box when i broke the seals. ah! there you made a slip, desmond. when i looked at the cigarette i found it was a 'dionysus'--your own particular brand--why, i have smoked dozens of them with you in france. the sight of the familiar name reminded me of you and then i remembered your unexpected visit to me at the nineveh when i was packing up to go away on leave the evening you were going back to france. i remembered that i had put the package with the jewel on my table for a moment when i was changing my tunic. your appearance drove it out of my head for the time, and you utilized the chance to substitute a similar package for mine. it was clever, desmond, 'pon my word it was a stroke of genius, a master coup which in my country would have placed you at the very top of the tree in the great general staff!" desmond listened to this story in amazement. he did not attempt to speculate on the different course events would have taken had he but known that the mysterious jewel which had cost old mackwayte his life, had been in his, desmond's, possession from the very day on which he had assumed the guise and habiliments of mr. bellward. he was racking his brains to think what he had done with the box of cigarettes he had purchased at the dionysus shop on the afternoon of the day he had taken the leave train back to france. he remembered perfectly buying the cigarettes for the journey. but he didn't have them on the journey; for the captain of the leave boat had given him some cigars as desmond had nothing to smoke. and then with a flash he remembered. he had packed the cigarettes in his kit--his kit which had gone over to france in the hold of the leave boat? and to think that there was a , pound jewel in charge of the m.l.o. at a french port! the idea tickled desmond's sense of humor and he smiled. "come," cried strangwise, "you've heard my terms. this jewel, this star of poland, it is nothing to you or your government. you restore it to me and i won't even ask you for a safe conduct back to germany. i'll just slide out and it will be as if i had never been to england at all. as for my organization, you, desmond okewood, have blown it sky-high!" he stretched out his hand to desmond as though he expected the other to produce the gem from his pocket. but desmond rose to his feet and struck the hand contemptuously on one side. the smile had vanished from his face. "are you sure that is all you have to say to me?" he asked. strangwise had stood up as well. "why, yes!" he said, "i think so!" "well, then," said desmond firmly, "just listen to me for a moment! here's my answer. you've lost the jewel for good and all, and you will never get it back. your offer to betray your accomplices to me in exchange for the star of poland is an empty one; for your accomplices will be arrested with you. and lastly i give you my word that i shall make it my personal duty to see that you are not shot by clean-handed british soldiers, but strung up by the neck by the common hangman--as the murderer that you are!" strangwise's face underwent an extraordinary change. his suavity vanished, his easy smile disappeared and he looked balefully across the table as the other fearlessly confronted him. "if you are a german, as you seem to be," desmond went on, "then i tell you i shall never have guessed it until this interview between us. but a man who can murder a defenceless old man and torture a young girl and then propose to sell his pals to a british officer at the price of that officer's honor can only be a hun! and you seem to be a pretty fine specimen of your race!" strangwise mastered his rising passion by an obvious effort; but his face was evil as he spoke. "i put that malplaquet woman off by appealing to her avarice," he said, "i've promised her and bellward a thousand pounds apiece as their share of my reward for recovering the jewel. i only have to say the word, okewood, and your number's up! and you may as well know that bellward will try his hand on you before he kills you. if that girl had known where the star of poland was, bellward would have had it out of her! three times a day he's put her into the hypnotic sleep. i warn you, you won't like the interrogatory!" the door flew open and bellward came in. he went eagerly to strangwise. "well, have you got it!" he demanded. "have you anything further to say, desmond?" asked strangwise. "perhaps you would care to reconsider your decisions?" desmond shook his head. "you've had my answer!" he said doggedly. "then, my friend," said strangwise to bellward, "after dinner you shall try your hand on this obstinate fool. but first we'll take him upstairs." he was close beside desmond and as he finished speaking he suddenly caught him by the throat and forced him back into the chair to which barbara had been tethered. to struggle was useless, and desmond suffered them to bind his arms and feet to the arms and legs of the chair. then the two men picked him up, chair and all, and bore him from the room upstairs to the third floor. there they carried him into a dark room where they left him, turning the key in the lock as they went away. chapter xxix. dot and dash for a long time after the retreating footsteps of strangwise and bellward had died away, desmond sat listless, preoccupied with his thoughts. they were somber enough. the sinister atmosphere of the house, weighing upon him, seemed to deepen his depression. about his own position he was not concerned at all. this is not an example of unselfishness it is simply an instance of the force of discipline which trains a man to reckon the cause as everything and himself as naught. and desmond was haunted by the awful conviction that he had at length reached the end of his tether and that nothing could now redeem the ignominious failure he had made of his mission. he had sacrificed barbara mackwayte; he had sacrificed nur-el-din; he had not even been clever enough to save his own skin. and strangwise, spy and murderer, had escaped and was now free to reorganize his band after he had put barbara and desmond out of the way. the thought was so unbearable that it stung desmond into action. strangwise should not get the better of him, he resolved, and he had yet this brief interval of being alone in which he might devise some scheme to rescue barbara and secure the arrest of strangwise and his accomplices. but how? he raised his head and looked round the room. the curtains had not been drawn and enough light came into the room from the outside to enable him to distinguish the outlines of the furniture. it was a bedroom, furnished in rather a massive style, with some kind of thick, soft carpet into, which the feet sank. desmond tested his bonds. he was very skillfully tied up. he fancied that with a little manipulation he might contrive to loosen the rope round his right arm, for one of the knots had caught in the folds of his coat. the thongs round his left arm and two legs were, however, so tight that he thought he had but little chance of ridding himself of them, even should he get his right arm free; for the knots were tied at the back under the seat of the chair in such a way that he could not reach them. he, therefore, resigned himself to conducting operations in the highly ridiculous posture in which he found himself, that is to say, with a large arm-chair attached to him, rather like a snail with its house on its back. after a certain amount of maneuvering he discovered that, by means of a kind of slow, lumbering crawl, he was able to move across the ground. it might have proved a noisy business on a parquet floor; but desmond moved only a foot or two at a time and the pile carpet deadened the sound. they had deposited him in his chair in the centre of the room near the big brass bedstead. after ten minutes' painful crawling he had reached the toilet table which stood in front of the window with a couple of electric candles on either side of the mirror. he moved the toilet table to one side, then bumped steadily across the carpet until he had reached the window. and then he gave a little gasp of surprise. he found himself looking straight at the window of his own bedroom at mrs. viljohn-smythe's. there was no mistaking it. the electric light was burning and the curtains had not yet been drawn. he could see the black and pink eiderdown on his bed and the black lining of the chintz curtains. then he remembered the slope of the hill. he must be in the room from which he had seen bellward looking out. the sight of the natty bedroom across the way moved desmond strangely. it seemed to bring home to him for the first time the extraordinary position in which he found himself, a prisoner in a perfectly respectable suburban house in a perfectly respectable quarter of london, in imminent danger of a violent death. he wouldn't give in without a struggle. safety stared him in the face, separated only by a hundred yards of grass and shrub and wall. he instinctively gripped the arms of the chair to raise himself to get a better view from the window, forgetting he was bound. the ropes cut his arms cruelly and brought him back to earth. he tested again the thongs fastening his right arm. yes! they were undoubtedly looser than the others. he pulled and tugged and writhed and strained. once in his struggles he crashed into the toilet table and all but upset one of the electric candles which slid to the table's very brink and was saved, as by a miracle, from falling to the floor. he resumed his efforts, but with less violence. it was in vain. though the ropes about his right arm were fairly loose, the wrist was solidly fastened to the chair, and do what he would, he could not wrest it free. he clawed desperately with his fingers and thumb, but all in vain. in the midst of his struggles he was arrested by the sound of whistling. somebody in the distance outside was whistling, clearly and musically, a quaint, jingling sort of jig that struck familiarly on desmond's ear. somehow it reminded him of the front. it brought with it dim memory of the awakening to the early morning chill of a nissen hut, the smell of damp earth, the whirr of aircraft soaring through the morning sky, the squeak of flutes, the roll of drums... why, it was the grand reveille, that ancient military air which every soldier knows. he stopped struggling and peered cautiously out into the dusk. the time for darkening the windows must be at hand, he thought, for in most of the houses the blinds were already drawn. here and there, however, an oblong of yellow light showed up against the dark mass of the houses on the upper slopes of the hill. the curtains of his bedroom at mrs. viljohn-smythe's were not yet drawn and the light still burned brightly above the bed. the whistling continued with occasional interruptions as though the whistler were about some work or other. and then suddenly "buzzer" barling, holding something in one hand and rubbing violently with the other, stepped into the patch of light between the window and the bed in desmond's bedroom. desmond's heart leaped within him. here was assistance close at hand. mechanically he sought to raise his hand to open the window, but an agonising twinge reminded him of his thongs. he swiftly reviewed in his mind the means of attracting the attention of the soldier opposite. whatever he was going to do, he must do quickly; for the fact that people were beginning to darken their windows showed that it must be close on half-past six, and about seven o'clock, barling, after putting out desmond's things, was accustomed to go out for the evening. should he shout? should he try and break the window? desmond rejected both these suggestions. while it was doubtful whether barling would hear the noise or, if he heard it, connect it with desmond, it was certain that strangwise and bellward would do both and be upon desmond without a moment's delay. then desmond's eye fell upon the electric candle which had slid to the very edge of the table. it was mounted in a heavy brass candle-stick and the switch was in the pedestal, jutting out over the edge of the table in the position in which the candle now stood. the candle was clear of the mirror and there was nothing between it and the window. desmond's brain took all this in at a glance. that glance showed him that providence was being good to him. a couple of jerks of the chair brought him alongside the table. its edge was practically level with the arms of the chair so that, by getting into the right position, he was able to manipulate the switch with his fingers. and then, thanking god and the army council for the recent signalling course he had attended, he depressed the switch with a quick, snapping movement and jerked it up again, sending out the dots and dashes of the morse code. "b-a-r-l-i-n-g" he spelt out, slowly and laboriously, it is true; for he was not an expert. as he worked the switch, he looked across at the illuminated window of the room in which barling stood, with bent head, earnestly engaged upon his polishing. "b-a-r-l-i-n-g-ack-ack-ack-b-a-r-l-i-n-g-ack-ack-ack" the light flickered up and down in long and short flashes. still "buzzer" barling trilled away at the "grand reveille" nor raised his eyes from his work. desmond varied the call: "o-k-e-w-o-o-d t-o b-a-r-l-i-n-g" he flashed. he repeated the call twice and was spelling it out for the third time when desmond saw the "buzzer" raise his head. the whistling broke off short. "o-k-e-w-o-o-d t-o b-a-r-l-i-n-g" flickered the light. the next moment the bedroom opposite was plunged in darkness. immediately afterwards the light began to flash with bewildering rapidity. but desmond recognized the call. "i am ready to take your message," it said. "s-t-r-a-n-g-w-i-s-e h-a-s g-o-t m-e ack-ack-ack," desmond flashed back, "f-e-t-c-h h-e-l-p a-t o-n-c-e ack-ack-ack: d-o-n-t r-e-p-l-y; ack-ack-ack; s-e-n-d o-n-e d-o-t o-n-e d-a-s-h t-o s-h-o-w y-o-u u-n-d-e-r-s-t-a-n-d ack-ack-ack!" for he was afraid lest the light flashing from the house opposite might attract the attention of the men downstairs. he was very slow and he made many mistakes, so that it was with bated breath that, after sending his message, he watched the window opposite for the reply. it came quickly. a short flash and a long one followed at once. after that the room remained in darkness. with a sigh of relief desmond, as quietly as possible, manoeuvred the dressing-table back into place and then jerked the chair across the carpet to the position where strangwise and bellward had left him in the middle of the floor: it was here that the two men found him, apparently asleep, when they came up half-an-hour later. they carried him down to the red lacquer room again. "well, desmond!" said strangwise, when their burden had been deposited on the floor under the crimson lamp. "well, maurice?" answered the other. strangwise noticed that desmond had addressed him by his christian name for the first time since he had been in the house and his voice was more friendly when he spoke again. "i see you're going to be sensible, old man," he said. "believe me, it's the only thing for you to do. you're going to give up the star of poland, aren't you?" "oh, no, maurice, i'm not," replied desmond in a frank, even voice. "i've told you what i'm going to do. i'm going to hand you over to the people at pentonville to hang as a murderer. and i shouldn't be at all surprised if they didn't run up old bellward there alongside of you!" strangwise shook his head at him. "you are very ill-advised to reject my offer, desmond," he said, "for it simply means that i can do nothing more for you. our friend bellward now assumes the direction of affairs. i don't think you can realize what you are letting yourself in for. you appear to have been dabbling in intelligence work. perhaps it would interest you to hear something about this, our latest german method for extracting accurate information from reluctant or untruthful witnesses. bellward, perhaps you would enlighten him." bellward smiled grimly. "it is a blend," he explained glibly, "of that extreme form of cross-examination which the americans call 'the third degree' and hypnotic treatment. many people, as you are doubtless aware, are less responsive to hypnotic influence than others. an intensified course of the third degree and lack of sleep renders such refractory natures extraordinarily susceptible to mesmeric treatment. it prepares the ground as it were!" bellward coughed and looked at desmond over his tortoise-shell spectacles which he had put on again. "the method has had its best results when practised on women," he resumed. "our people in holland have found it very successful in the case of female spies who come across the belgian frontier. but some women--miss barbara, for example--seem to have greater powers of resistance than others. we had to employ a rather drastic form of the third degree for her, didn't we, strangwise?" he laughed waggishly. "and you'll be none too easy either," he added. "you beasts," cried desmond, "but just you wait, your turn will come!" "yours first, however," chuckled bellward. "i rather fancy you will think us beasts by the time we have done with you, my young friend!" then he turned to strangwise. "where's minna?" he asked. "with the girl." "is the girl sleeping?" strangwise nodded. "she wanted it," he replied, "no sleep for four days... i tell you it takes some constitution to hold out against that!" "well," said bellward, rubbing the palms of his hands together, "as we're not likely to be disturbed, i think we'll make a start!" he advanced a pace to where desmond sat trussed up, hand and foot, in his chair. bellward's eyes were large and luminous, and as desmond glanced rather nervously at the face of the man approaching him, he was struck by the compelling power they seemed to emit. desmond bent his head to avoid the insistent gaze. but in a couple of quick strides bellward was at his side and stooping down, had thrust his face right into his victim's. bellward's face was so close that desmond felt his warm breath on his cheek whilst those burning eyes seemed to stab through his closed eyelids and steadily, stealthily, draw his gaze. resolutely desmond held his head, averted. all kinds of queer ideas were racing through his brain, fragments of nursery rhymes, scenes from his regimental life in india, memories of the front, which he had deliberately summoned up to keep his attention distracted from those merciless eyes, like twin search-lights pitilessly playing on his face. bellward could easily have taken desmond by the chin and forced his face up until his eyes came level with the other's. but he offered no violence of any kind. he remained in his stooping position, his face thrust forward, so perfectly still that desmond began to be tormented by a desire to risk a rapid peep just to see what the mesmerist was doing. he put the temptation aside. he must keep his eyes shut, he told himself. but the desire increased, intensified by the strong attraction radiating from bellward, and finally desmond succumbed. he opened his eyes to dart a quick glance at bellward and found the other's staring eyes, with pupils distended, fixed on his. and desmond felt his resistance ebb. he tried to avert his gaze; but it was too late. that basilisk glare held him fast. with every faculty of his mind he fought against the influence which was slowly, irresistibly, shackling his brain. he laughed, he shouted defiance at bellward and strangwise, he sang snatches of songs. but bellward never moved a muscle. he seemed to be in a kind of cataleptic trance, so rigid his body, so unswerving his stare. the lights in the room seemed to be growing dim. bellward's eyeballs gleamed redly in the dull crimson light flooding the room. desmond felt himself longing for some violent shock that would disturb the hideous stillness of the house. his own voice was sounding dull and blunted in his ears. what was the use of struggling further? he might as well give up... a loud crash, the sound of a door slamming, reechoed through the house. the room shook. the noise brought desmond back to his senses and at the same time the chain binding him to bellward snapped. for bellward started and raised his head and strangwise sprang to the door. then desmond heard the door burst open, there was the deafening report of a pistol, followed by another, and bellward crashed forward on his knees with a sobbing grunt. as desmond had his back to the door he could see nothing of what was taking place, but some kind of violent struggle was going on; for he heard the smash of glass as a piece of furniture was upset. then suddenly the room seemed full of people. the thongs binding his hands and feet fell to the ground. "buzzer" barling stood at his side. chapter xxx. hohenlinden trench a man broke quickly away from the throng of people pressing into the room. it was francis. the chief and mr. marigold were close at his heels. "des," cried francis, "ah! thank god! you are all right!" desmond looked in a dazed fashion from one to the other. the rapid transition from the hush of the room to the scene of confusion going on around him had left him bewildered. his glance traveled from the faces of the men gathered round his chair to the floor. the sight of bellward, very still, hunched up with his face immersed in the thick black carpet, seemed to recall something to his mind. "barbara!" he murmured in a strained voice. "she's all right!" replied his brother, "we found her on the bed in a room on the floor below sleeping the sleep of the just. the woman's vanished, though. i'm afraid she got away! but who's this?" he pointed to "buzzer" barling who stood stiffly at attention beside desmond's chair. "ay, who are you, young fellow" repeated mr. marigold coming up close to the soldier. "ask him!" said desmond, raising his arm, "he knows!" the group around the door had broken up. strangwise, his wrists handcuffed together, his hair dishevelled and his collar torn, stood there between two plain clothes men. and at him desmond pointed. strangwise was staring at the straight, square figure of the gunner, awkwardly attired in one of desmond's old suits. berling's frank, honest eyes returned the other's gaze unflinchingly. but strangwise was obviously taken aback, though only for the moment. the flush that mounted to his cheek quickly died down, leaving him as cool and impassive as ever. "do you know this man!" the chief, asked sternly, addressing strangwise. "certainly," retorted strangwise, "it's gunner barling, one of the brigade signallers!" mr. marigold gave a keen glance at the soldier. "so you're barling, eh?" he muttered as though talking to himself, "ah! this is getting interesting!" "yes," said desmond, "this is gunner barling. have a good look at him, strangwise. it is he who summoned these gentlemen to my assistance. it is he who's going to tell them who and what you are!" turning to the chief he added with a touch of formality: "may gunner barling tell his story, sir?" "by all means," replied the chief. "i am all attention. but first let this fellow be removed." and beckoning to two of his men; he pointed to the body of bellward. "is he dead" asked desmond. the chief shook his head. "he drew a bead on one of my men as we came in," he answered, "and got a bullet through the chest for his pains. we'll have to cure him of this gunshot wound so as to get him ready to receive another!" he laughed a grim dry laugh at his little joke. "now, barling," said desmond, when bellward had been borne away, "i want you to tell these gentlemen the story of the raid on the hohenlinden trench." barling glanced rather self-consciously about him. but the look of intense, almost nervous watchfulness on the face of maurice strangwise seemed to reassure him. and when he spoke, he spoke straight at strangwise. "well," he said, "major okewood here, what i used to know along of my brother being his servant, says as how you gentlemen'll make it all right about my stoppin' absent if i tells you what i know about this orficer. tell it i will and gladly; for it was all along of him that i spoiled a clean sheet of eighteen years' service, gentlemen. "when we was down arras way a few months ago the infantry was a-goin' to do a raid, see? and the captain here was sent along of the infantry party to jine up a lineback to the 'tillery brigade headquarters. well, he took me and another chap, name o' macdonald--bombardier he was--along with him as signallers. "this was a daylight raid, d'ye see, gentlemen? our chaps went over at four o'clock in the afternoon. they was to enter a sort o' bulge in the german front line wot they called hohenlinden trench, bomb the gers. out o' that, push on to the support line and clear out that and then come back. the rocket to fetch 'em home was to go up forty minutes after they started. "well, me and mac--that's the bombardier--went over with th' officer here just behind the raiding party. o' course fritz knew we was comin' for it was broad daylight, and that clear you could see for miles over the flats. first thing we knew fritz had put down a roarin', tearin' barrage, and we hadn't gone not twenty yards before ole mac. cops one right on the nut; about took his head off, it did. so me and the captain we goes on alone and drops all nice and comfortable in the trench, and i starts getting my line jined up. "it was a longish job but i got the brigade line goin' at last. our chaps had cleared out the front line and was off down the communication trenches to the support. what with machine-guns rattlin' and bombs a-goin' off down the trench and fritz's barrage all over the shop the row was that awful we had to buzz every single word. "there was a bit of a house like, a goodish way in front, x farm, they called it, and presently the brigade tells the captain, who was buzzin' to them, to register b battery on to the farm. "'i can't see the farm nohow from here,' sez the captain. i could see it as plain as plain, and i pointed it out to him. but no! he couldn't see it. "'i'll crawl out of the trench a bit, gunner,' sez he to me, 'you sit tight,' he sez, 'i'll let you know when to follow!" "with that he up and out o' the trench leavin' me and the instruments behind all among the dead gers., and our lads had killed a tidy few. it was pretty lonely round about were i was; for our chaps had all gone on and was bombin' the gers., like they was a lot o' rabbits, up and down the support line. "i followed the captain with me eye, gentlemen, and i'm blessed if he didn't walk straight across the open and over the support trench. then he drops into a bit of a shell-hole and i lost sight of him. well, i waited and waited and no sign of th' orficer. the rocket goes up and our lads begin to come back with half a dozen huns runnin' in front of them with their hands up. some of the chaps as they passed me wanted to know if i was a-goin' to stay there all night! and the brigade buzzin' like mad to talk to the captain. "i sat in that blessed trench till everybody had cleared out. then, seeing as how not even the docket had brought th' orficer back, i sez to myself as how he must ha' stopped one. so i gets out of the trench and starts crawling across the top towards the place where i see the captain disappear. as i got near the support line the ground went up a little and then dropped, so i got a bit of a view on to the ground ahead. and then i sees the captain here!" buzzer barling stopped. all had listened to his story with the deepest interest, especially strangwise, who never took his eyes off the gunner's brown face. some men are born story-tellers and there was a rugged picturesqueness about barling's simple narrative which conjured up in the minds of his hearers the picture of the lonely signaller cowering in the abandoned trench among the freshly slain, waiting for the officer who never came back. "it's not a nice thing to have to say about an orficer," the gunner presently continued, "and so help me god, gentlemen, i kep' my mouth shut about it until... until..." he broke off and looked quickly at desmond. "keep that until the end, barling," said desmond, "finish about the raid now!" "well, as i was sayin', gentlemen, i was up on a bit of hillock near fritz's support line when i sees the captain here. he was settin' all comfortable in a shell-hole, his glasses in his hand, chattin' quite friendly like with two of the gers. orficers, i reckoned they was, along o' the silver lace on their collars. one was wearin' one o' them coal-scuttle helmets, t'other a little flat cap with a shiny peak. and the captain here was a-pointin' at our lines and a-wavin' his hand about like he was a-tellin' the two fritzes all about it, and the chap in the coal-scuttle hat was a-writin' it all down in a book." barling paused. he was rather flushed and his eyes burned brightly in his weather-beaten face. "eighteen year i done in the royal regiment," he went on, and his voice trembled a little, "and me father a battery sergeant-major before me, and i never thought to see one of our orficers go over to the enemy. fritz was beginnin' to come back to his front line: i could see their coal-scuttle hats a-bobbin' up and down the communication trenches, so i crawled back the way i come and made a bolt for our lines. "i meant to go straight to the b.c. post and report wot i seen to the major. but i hadn't the heart to, gentlemen, when i was up against it. it was an awful charge to bring against an orficer, d'you see? i told myself i didn't know but what the captain hadn't been taken prisoner and was makin' the best of it, w'en i see him, stuffin' the fritzes up with a lot o' lies. and so i jes' reported as how th' orficer 'ad crawled out of the trench and never come back. and then this here murder happened..." mr. marigold turned to the chief. "if you remember, sir," he said, "i found this man's leave paper in the front garden of the mackwayte's house at laleham villas, seven kings, the day after the murder. there are one or two questions i should like to put..." "no need to arsk any questions," said barling. "i'll tell you the whole story meself, mister. i was on leave at the time, due to go back to france the next afternoon. i'd been out spending the evenin' at my niece's wot's married and livin' out seven kings way. me and her man wot works on the line kept it up a bit late what with yarnin' about the front an' that and it must a' been nigh on three o'clock w'en i left him to walk back to the union jack club where i had a bed. "there's a corfee-stall near their road and the night bein' crool damp i thought as how a nice cup o' corfee'd warm me up afore i went back to the waterloo bridge road. i had me cup o' corfee and was jes' a-payin' the chap what has the pitch w'en a fellow passes by right in the light o' the lamp on the stall. it was th' orficer here, in plain clothes--shabby-like he was dressed--but i knew him at once. "'our orficers don't walk about these parts after midnight dressed like tramps,' i sez to meself, and rememberin' what i seen at the hohenlinden trench i follows him..." "just a minute!" the chief's voice broke in upon the narrative. "didn't you know, barling, hadn't you heard, about captain strangwise's escape from a german prisoners of war camp?" "no, sir!" replied the gunner. "there was a good deal about it in the papers." "i've not got much eddication, sir," said barling, "that's w'y i never took the stripe and i don't take much account of the newspapers an' that's a fact!" "well, go on!" the chief bade him. "it was pretty dark in the streets and i follered him along without his seeing me into the main-road and then down a turnin'..." "laleham villas," prompted mr. marigold. "i wasn't payin' much attention to were he was leadin' me," said barling, "what i wanted to find out was what he was up to! presently he turned in at a gate. i was closer up than i meant to be, and he swung in so sudden that i had to drop quick and crouch behind the masonry of the front garden wall. my leave pass must a' dropped out o' my pocket and through the railin's into the garden. "well, the front door must a' been on the jar for th' orficer here just pushes it open and walks in, goin' very soft like. i crep' in the front gate and got as far as the door w'ich was a-standin' half open. i could 'ear the stair creakin' under 'im and i was just wonderin' whether i should go into the house w'en i hears a bang and wi' that someone comes aflyin' down the stairs, dodges through the front hall and out at the back. i see him come scramblin' over the back gate and was a-goin' to stop him thinkin' it was th' orficer here w'en i sees it is a tubby little chap, not big like the captain. and then it come over me quite sudden-like that burglary and murder had been done in the house and wot would i say if a p'liceman come along? so i slipped off and went as hard as i could go back to the old union jack club. "the next mornin' i found i'd lost me leave paper. i was afraid to go and report it in case it had been picked up, and they'd run me in for this murder job. that's how i come to desert, gentlemen, and spoilt a eighteen years' conduct sheet without a entry over this murderin' spy here!" gunner barling broke off abruptly as though he had committed himself to a stronger opinion than discipline would allow. it was the chief who broke the silence following the termination of the gunner's story. "strangwise," he said, "hadn't you better tell us who you are?" "he's an officer of the prussian guard," desmond said, "and he was sent over here by the german secret service organization in the united states to get a commission in the british army. when a good man was wanted to recover the star of poland for the crown prince, the secret service people in berlin sent word to strangwise (who was then serving with the gunners in france) to get himself captured. the german military authorities duly reported him a prisoner of war and then let him 'escape' as' the easiest and least suspicious means of getting him back to london!" the chief smiled genially. "that's a dashed clever idea," he observed shrewdly, "'pon my word, that's bright! that's very bright! i should like to compliment the man who thought of that!" "then you may address your compliments to me, chief," said strangwise. the chief turned and looked at him. "i've met many of your people in my time, strangwise," he said, "but i don't know you! who are you?" strangwise laughed. "ask nur-el-din," he said, "that is to say, if you haven't shot her yet!" "and if we have?" asked the chief. desmond sprang tip. "it isn't possible!" he cried. "why, the woman's a victim, not a principal! chief..." "what if we have?" asked the chief again. a curious change had come over the prisoner. his jaunty air had left him and there was an apprehensive look in his eyes. "i would have saved her if i could have," strangwise said, "but she played me false over the jewel. she imperiled the success of my mission. you english have no idea of discipline. to us prussian officers an order stands above everything else. there is nothing we would not sacrifice to obey our orders. and my order was to recover the star of poland for his imperial highness the crown prince, lieutenant colonel in the regiment to which i have the honor to belong, the first regiment of prussian foot guards. but nur-el-din plotted with our friend here and with that little fool upstairs to upset my plans, and i had no mercy on her. i planted those documents in her dress--or rather bellward did--to draw suspicion away from me. i thought you english would be too flabby to execute a woman; but i reckoned on you putting the girl away for some years to come. i would have shot her as i shot rass if..." his voice trembled and he was silent. "if what?" asked the chief. "if she hadn't been my wife," said strangwise. chapter xxxi. the , kit it was a clear, crisp morning with a sparkle of frost on jetty and breakwater. the english channel stretched flashing like a living sheet of glass to the filmy line marking the coast of france, as serene and beautiful in its calm as it is savage and cruel in its anger. it was high tide; but only a gentle murmur came from the little waves that idly beat upon the shore in front of the bungalow. a girl lay in a deck chair on the verandah, well wrapped up against the eager air. but the fresh breeze would not be denied and, foiled by the nurse's vigilance of its intents against the patient, it revenged itself by blowing havoc among the soft brown curls which peeped out from under the girl's hat. she turned to the man at her side. "look!" she said, and pointed seawards with her finger. a convoy of vessels was standing out to sea framed in the smoke-blurs of the escorting destroyers. ugly, weatherbeaten craft were the steamers with trails of smoke blown out in the breeze behind them. they rode the sea's highway with confidence, putting their trust in the unseen power that swept the road clear for them. "transports, aren't they?" asked the man. but he scarcely looked at the transports. he was watching the gleam of the sun on the girl's brown hair and contrasting the deep gray of her eyes with the ever-changing hues of the sea. "yes," replied the girl. "it's the third day they've gone across! by this time next week there'll be ten fresh divisions in france. how secure they look steaming along! and to think they owe it all to you!" the man laughed and flushed up. "from the strictly professional standpoint the less said about me the better," he said. "what nonsense you talk!" cried the girl. "when the chief was down to see me yesterday, he spoke of nothing but you. 'they beat him, but he won out!' he said, 'they shook him off but he went back and found 'em!' he told me it was a case of grit versus violence--and grit won. in all the time i've known the chief, i've never heard him talk so much about one man before. do you know," barbara went on, looking up at desmond, "i think you've made the chief feel a little bit ashamed of himself. and that i may tell you is a most extraordinary achievement!" "do you think you're strong enough to hear some news?" asked desmond after a pause. "of course," replied the girl. "but i think i can guess it. it's about strangwise, isn't it?" desmond nodded. "he was shot yesterday morning," he replied. "i'm glad they did it in france. i was terrified lest they should want me to go to it." "why?" asked the girl with a suspicion of indignation in her voice, "he deserved no mercy." "no," replied desmond slowly, "he was a bad fellow--a prussian through and through. he murdered your poor father, he shot rass, he instigated the killing of the maid, marie, he was prepared to sacrifice his own wife even, to this prussian god of militarism which takes the very soul out of a man's body and puts it into the hands of his superior officer. and yet, and yet, when one has soldiered with a man, barbara, and roughed it with him and been shelled and shot at with him, there seems to be a bond of sympathy between you and him for ever after. and he was a brave man, barbara, cruel and unscrupulous, i admit, but there was no fear in him, and i can't help admiring courage. i seem to think of him as two men--the man i soldiered with and the heartless brute who watched while that beast bellward..." he broke off as a spasm of pain crossed the girl's face. "i shall remember the one and forget the other," he concluded simply. "tell me," said the girl suddenly, "who was strangwise?" "after he was arrested and just before they were going to take him off," desmond said, "he asked to be allowed to say a word privately to the chief. we were all sent away and he told the chief his real name. he thought he was going to be hanged, you see, and while he never shrank from any crime in the fulfilment of his mission, he was terrified of a shameful death. he begged the chief to see that his real name was not revealed for the disgrace that his execution would bring upon his family. curiously prussian attitude of mind, isn't it?" "and what did the chief say?" "i don't know; but he was mighty short with him, i expect." "and what was strangwise's real name?" "when he told us that nur-el-din was his wife, i knew at once who he was. his name is hans von schornbeek. he was in the prussian foot guards, was turned out for some reason or other and went to america where, after a pretty rough time, he was taken on by the german secret service organization. he was working for them when he met nur-el-din. they were married out there and, realizing the possibilities of using her as a decoy in the secret service, he sent her to brussels where the huns were very busy getting ready for war. he treated her abominably; but the girl was fond of him in her way and even when she was in fear of her life from this man she never revealed to me the fact that he was hans von schornbeek and her husband." barbara sat musing for a while, her eyes on the restless sea. "how strange it is," she said, "to think that they are all dispersed now... and the transports are sailing securely to france. two were killed at the mill house, behrend committed suicide in prison, bellward died in hospital, mrs. malplaquet has disappeared, and now strangwise has gone. there only remains..." she cast a quick glance at desmond but he was gazing seaward at the smoke of the transports smudging the horizon. "what are they going to do with nur-el-din?" she asked rather abruptly. "didn't the chief tell you?" said desmond. "he only asked me what i had to say in the matter as i had had to suffer at her hands. but i told him i left the matter entirely to him. i said i took your point of view that nur-el-din was the victim of her husband..." "that was generous of you, barbara," desmond said gently. she sighed. "daddy knew her as a little girl," she answered, "and he was so pleased to see her again that night. she never had a chance. i hope she'll get one now!" "they're going to intern her, i believe," said desmond, "until the end of the war; they could do nothing else, you know. but she will be well looked after, and i think she will be safer in our charge than if she were allowed to remain at liberty. the german secret service has had a bad knock, you know. somebody has got to pay for it!" "i know," the girl whispered, "and it frightens me." "you poor child!" said desmond, "you've had a rough time. but it's all over now. and that reminds me, barney is coming up for sentence to-day; they charged him with murder originally; but marigold kept on getting him remanded until they were able to alter the charge to one of burglary. he'll probably get two years' hard labor, marigold says." "poor barney!" said barbara, "i wish they would let him go free. all these weeks the mystery of poor daddy's death has so weighed upon my mind that now it has been cleared up i feel as though one day i might be happy again. and i want everybody to be happy, too!" "barbara," said desmond and took her hand. barbara calmly withdrew it from his grasp and brushed an imaginary curl out of her eye. "any news of your hundred thousand pound kit?" she asked, by way of turning the conversation. "by jove," said desmond, "there was a letter from cox's at the club this morning but i was so rushed to catch my train that i shoved it in my pocket and forgot all about it. i wrote and asked them weeks ago to get my kit back from france. here we are!" he pulled a letter out of his pocket, slit open the envelope and took out a printed form. barbara, propping herself up with one hand on his shoulder, leaned over him to read the communication. this is what she read. "we are advised," the form ran, "that a wolseley valise forwarded to you on the th inst. from france has been lost by enemy action. we are enclosing a compensation form which..." but neither troubled to read further. "gone to the bottom, by jove!" cried desmond. "but isn't it strange," he went on, "to think of the star of poland lying out there on the bed of the channel? well, i'm not so sure that it isn't the best place for it. it won't create any further trouble in this world at least!" "poor nur-el-din!" sighed the girl. they sat awhile in silence together and watched the gulls circling unceasingly above the receding tide. "you're leaving here to-morrow then?" said desmond presently. barbara nodded "and going back to your work with the chief?" barbara nodded again. "it's not good enough," cried desmond. "this is no job for a girl like you, barbara. the strain is too much; the risks are too great. besides, there's something i wanted to say..." barbara stopped him. "don't say it!" she bade him. "but you don't know what i was going to say!" he protested. barbara smiled a little happy smile. "barbara..." desmond began. her hand still rested on his shoulder and he put his hand over hers. for a brief moment she let him have his way. then she withdrew her hand. "desmond," she said, looking at him with kindly eyes, "we both have work to do..." "we have," replied the man somberly, "and mine's at the front!" the girl shook her head. "no!" she said. "henceforward it's where the chief sends you!" desmond set his jaw obstinately. "i may have been a secret service agent by accident," he answered, "but i'm a soldier by trade. my place is in the fighting-line!" "the secret service has its fighting-line, too," barbara replied, "though the war correspondents don't write about it. it never gets a mention in despatches, and victoria crosses don't come its way. the newspapers don't publish its casualty list, though you and i know that it's a long one. a man slips quietly away and never comes back, and after a certain lapse of time we just mark him off the books and there's an end of it. but it's a great service; and you've made your mark in it. the chief wants men like you. you'll have to stay!" desmond was about to speak; but the girl stopped him. "what do you and i matter," she asked, "when the whole future of england is at stake! if you are to give of your best to this silent game of ours, you must be free with no responsibilities and no ties, with nothing that will ever make you hesitate to take a supreme risk. and i never met a man that dared more freely than you!" "oh, please..." said desmond and got up. he stood gazing seawards for a while. then he glanced at his watch. "i must be going back to london," he said. "i have to see the chief at four this afternoon. and you know why!" the girl nodded. "what will you tell him?" she asked. "will you accept his offer to remain on in the secret service?" desmond looked at her ruefully. "you're so eloquent about it," he said slowly, "that i think i must!" smiling, she gave him her hand. desmond held it for an instant in his. then, without another word, he turned and strode off towards the winding white road that led to the station. barbara watched him until a turn in the road hid him from her sight. then she pulled out her handkerchief. "good heavens, girl!" she said to herself, "i believe you're crying!" [illustration: "if you are around here when we begin the job, you will find out all about that."] the boy spy a substantially true record of secret service during the war of the rebellion. a correct account of events witnessed by a soldier attached to headquarters the only practical history of war telegraphers in the field--a full account of the mysteries of signaling by flags, torches, and rockets--thrilling scenes of battles, captures and escapes by major j. o. kerbey chicago. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn st. copyright by j. o. kerbey. - - - . preface. the following unpretending narrative of some of the actual experiences of a boy in the war of the rebellion is fraternally dedicated to my comrades of the g. a. r. part of these adventures were recorded in the press of the country at the time of their occurrence, and more recently, in detached and crude form, in different papers. through the kindly interest of many friends, and especially that of my relative and comrade, col. j. h. madden, of danville, illinois, the revised and collated story is now offered to the public and corrected from the original notes and mss. yours in f. c. & l., the author. contents. [transcriber's note: chapter xviii was duplicated in the text. the table of contents has been changed to reflect the chapter numbers given in the text.] chapter. page i. introductory ii. on duty as a spy at the rebel capital, montgomery, alabama--living in same hotel with jeff davis and his cabinet--conspirators from washington interviewed--bounty offered by confederates before a gun was fired--fort sumter and fort pickens iii. pensacola, florida--in rebel lines--fort pickens--admiral porter and the navy iv. crossing the bay to fort pickens, etc. v. rebel newspapers--on admiral porter's ship vi. admiral porter saves the boy's life--interview with the rebel flag-of-truce officers, who claim him for a victim--scenes on board a man-of-war--return home by sea--reception in new york--telegraph acquaintances--new york papers record the adventure in full page vii. reporting to the secretary of war, at washington--ordered on another scout to virginia--in patterson's army, in virginia, before the battle of bull run viii. a night's scout in johnston's army--rebel signals--visitors from the union army headquarters report to rebel headquarters--general j. e. johnston's escape to beauregard reported to general patterson--fitz-john porter responsible for the first battle of bull run, as he was cashiered for that of the second bull run--an important contribution to the war history of the time--the story since confirmed by the _century_ historians of lincoln, secretaries nicolay and hay ix. reporting to general bank's headquarters for duty--the life of jeff davis threatened--captured at harper's ferry--interesting personal letters corroborating the supposed death of the "boy spy" x. at beauregard's headquarters--on duty at manassas xi. important documents intercepted at manassas, which established the fact that the rebel army had no intention, and were not able to advance after manassas--the rebel army demoralized by success, and twenty-five per cent. absent from epidemic--on the field after the battle--observation inside rebel camps--talking with richmond by wire--captured by rebel picket in sight of the signal lights at georgetown college xii. another escape, etc. xiii. one more escape--"yanking" the telegraph wires--"on to richmond!"--a close shave xiv. on to richmond--a night of terror--a ghastly find in the woods--attacked by bloodhounds--other miraculous escapes--first visit to fredericksburg--a collection taken up in a church in virginia for the "boy spy"--arrives in richmond xv. sick in richmond--concealed by a colored boy and unable to move--an original cipher letter sent through the blockade to washington that tells the whole story in a few words--meeting with maryland refugees--the "boy spy" serenaded--"maryland, my maryland"--jeff davis' office and home--a visit to union prisoners at libby prison, etc. xvi. richmond--hollywood--jeff davis--breckinridge--extra billy smith--mayor, governor, etc. xvii. richmond--a close shave xviii. richmond on an autumn morning--a group of good looking soldiers--jeff davis passes by--the battle of ball's bluff--richmond newspapers xviii. a narrow escape--recognized by texas friends at a richmond theatre--personnel of the maryland battery--refugees from ireland--camp lee, near richmond--our captain--lieutenant claiborne, of mississippi--our section drills--horses for our use in town and adjoining county--visits of ladies--capitola--popularity of refugees--the entertainment for marylanders--tableau--jeff davis strikes the chains from the enslaved maryland beauty xix. richmond, fall --daily visits to the war office, mechanics hall--evenings devoted to visits in town--mixed up with maryland ladies--fort pickens opens fire on pensacola batteries--general winder, of maryland--jeff davis inaugurated president--shake hands with jeff davis xx. one sunday in richmond--jeff davis' and general lee's homes and church--recognized at libby prison--visit to texas camp--a "difficulty" renewed--thrilling experience--a night in richmond with texas boys xxi. maryland "refugees"--coercing into the union in east tennessee "refugees"--parson brownlow interviewed--a happy experience with maggie craig--the battle of mill spring--first union victory as seen from inside the rebel army xxii. cruelty of general ledbetter--another narrow escape--ordered to cumberland gap--a wearisome journey--arrived at the gap--the stolen letter--alone in the darkness--the north star--day dawn xxiii. return home from cumberland gap--meeting with parson brownlow on his trip to washington xxiv. arrival at washington--meets hon. john covode--j. w. forney and senators--testimony before committee on the conduct of the war--remarkable interviews with secretary stanton--a visit to mr. lincoln, at washington--the telegraph corps--again ordered to the front, at fredericksburg, virginia xxv. geno--fredericksburg--a chapter of war history not in _the century_ papers xxvi. a scout to richmond develops important information--no force in front of mcdowell to prevent his co-operating with mcclellan--the secretary of war responsible for the failure of the peninsula campaign--our spy as a war correspondent antagonizes the war department by criticism in the papers--is arrested on a technicality and sent a special prisoner to old capitol by the secretary of war's orders xxvii. old capitol prison--belle boyd, the rebel spy, a companion and friend--a disguised english duke--interesting scenes and experiences in this famous state prison--planning to escape disguised as a contraband--released on parole by order of the secretary of war xxviii. fired out of old capitol prison--"don't come here again!"--my friend the jew sutler--out in a new rig--at the canterbury theatre xxix. life at headquarters army of potomac--some startling revelations as to the "true inwardness," not to say cussedness, of our high union officials--interesting descriptions of family life at headquarters--"signals"--ciphers--again volunteering for secret service inside the rebel army--a remarkable statement about burnside and hooker--introduction to general meade--a night on the rappahannock interviewing rebel pickets xxx. conspiracies among union generals and northern politicians--the defense of that unappreciated army, the cavalry--hooker and dead cavalrymen--stoneman's celebrated raid to richmond truthfully described, and its failure to capture richmond accounted for--a chapter on the "secret service" not referred to in official reports or current war history xxxi. farewell to fredericksburg--general pleasonton--cavalry fighting at brandy and aldie--looking after stuart's rebel cavalry--a couple of close calls--chased by mosby's guerrillas--with custer in frederick, md., the day before the battle, flirting with the girls xxxii. sent to find general buford--a hasty ride--the battle of gettysburg--cemetery ridge--general doubleday--general hancock--the second day of the battle xxxiii. closing chapter illustrations. page. "if you are around here when we begin the job, you will find out all about that." _frontispiece._ a close call at gettysburg "ah! sketching, are you?" an interview with parson brownlow "are you union, or confederate?" "bill, ain't he the fellow?" cavalry picket on the rappahannock "colonel mosby's soldiers, i reckon, sir?" cumberland gap--this was enough for me geno was not only the prettiest, but the sweetest girl i ever saw "get up here, you damned old traitor." "halt!" he seemed to have forgotten all about dressing himself i'd cut him and feed the pieces to the sharks i had stepped onto the decaying body of--_a man_! in an instant he put the point of his sword against my breast in old capitol prison--disguised as a contraband in old capitol prison--i admit that i broke down completely i was being "toted" back to the rebel army i whispered to him as i went past: "norfolk is taken." i "yanked," or by a dexterous "twist of the wrist," i was able to break the wire landing kerslop over the side onto the ground miss mamie wells ministering to the wounded [transcriber's note: this illustration is not found in the text.] on a scout to richmond recognized by texans at richmond theatre refusing in her very decided manner to walk under "that flag" tail piece--to the boy spy tapping the telegraph wire--"are the yanks in fredericksburg?" "thank god, i'm safe among my friends." the sergeant kindly gave him the steel "to father: i am safe; are all well at home?" we hastily dressed and ran back from the bank you always say _down_ here, and that you're going to go up home the boy spy. chapter i. introductory. a successful scout, or spy, is like a great poet in one respect: he is born, not made--subject to the requisition of the military genius of the time. that i was not born to be hanged is a self-evident proposition. whether i was a successful scout or not, the reader of these pages must determine. it was my good fortune to have first seen the light under the shadow of one of the spurs of the blue ridge mountains, in the beautiful cumberland valley, in the state of pennsylvania, near mason and dixon's line. this same locality is distinguished as the birthplace of president james buchanan, and also that of thomas a. scott, president of the pennsylvania railroad and its system, under whom i served. mr. scott used to say he had leased this position for ninety-nine years with twice the salary of the president of the united states. my grandfather, who had been an officer in the royal navy, of great britain, served in the same ships with lord nelson, had after the manner of his class kept a record of his remarkable and thrilling services in the british navy during the wars of that period. the discovery of this, grandfather's diary--amongst other war papers--after his death, i may say, here, accounts in a manner for the spirit of adventure in my disposition. i come by it naturally, and following the precedent, submit this unpretending narrative, as another grandfather's diary. it appears that during the embargo declared during the war between the united states and england in , my grandfather was caught ashore, as it were, in america. his brother, george, was in the service of the east india company, as a judge advocate, and lived on the island of ceylon at that time. desiring to reach this brother, by getting a vessel at new orleans, he started to walk overland, through a hostile country, to the headwaters of the ohio and mississippi valley at pittsburgh, where he could get a canoe or boat. it is a singular coincidence that this young english officer, in his scouting through an enemy's country, traversed substantially the very same ground--winchester, va., harper's ferry, fredericksburg, etc.--that i, his youthful grandson, tramped over as a scout in another war half a century later. it was while on this journey that he was taken sick, and during a long illness he was nursed back to life by my grandmother, whom he subsequently married, and there located as an american citizen. he became the school-master of the community, and in course of time, thomas a. scott was one of his brightest but most troublesome scholars. in the process of this evolution, i became a messenger boy and student of telegraphy in the office of colonel thos. a. scott, who was then superintendent of railways at pittsburgh. in the same office, as a private clerk and telegrapher, was mr. andrew carnegie, now widely known as a capitalist. "andy," as this distinguished philanthropist was then familiarly known, and myself were "boys together," and the reader is permitted to refer to him for--as he recently assured me, in his laughing and hearty manner--that he would give me a good endorsement, as one of his wild boys. under mr. andrew carnegie's instruction i soon became a proficient operator, and when but a boy very easily read a telegraph instrument by sound, which in those days was considered an extraordinary acquirement. through mr. scott's kindly interest in myself, i had been promoted rapidly in railway work, and before leaving pittsburgh was chief or division operator. this gave me very large responsibilities, for a boy of my age, as the road then had but one track, and close watch had to be kept of the various trains moving in the same or opposite directions. it became a habit of colonel scott, on receiving news of any accident to a train or bridge along the road, to have an engine fired up and be off at once, with me along provided with a pocket instrument and a little coil of copper wire. it seems now to me that such trips usually began at night. arrived at the place of wreck, i would at once shin up a telegraph pole, get the wire down, cut it, and establish a "field station" at once, the nearest rail fence and a convenient bowlder furnishing desk and office seat, where i worked while colonel scott remained in charge of the work. he was thus at once put in direct communication with every train and station on the road, and in as full personal control as if in his comfortable pittsburgh office. such work perfected me in field-telegraphing. at times, when a burned or broken bridge or a wrecked train delayed traffic, trains would accumulate at the point, and the noises of escaping steam from the engines, the progressing work, and the babel of voices about me, made it utterly impossible to hear any sound from my little magnet, or pocket instrument. i then discovered, by sheer necessity, that i could read the messages coming, by watching the movement of the armature of the magnet. the vibrations of a telegraph armature are so slight as to be scarcely perceptible to the naked eye, yet a break, or the separating of the points of contact, are necessary to make the proper signals. further experiences developed the phenomena that when sound and sight failed i could read still by the sense of feeling, by holding my finger-tips gently against the armature and noting its pulsations. i thus became by practice not only proficient, but expert in telegraphy. telegraphers know, though the general public may not, that messages can be sent by touching together the ends of a cut telegraph wire, and can be received by holding the ends to the tongue. my tongue, however, has always been too sensitive to take that kind of "subtle fluid." telegraphers have many methods of secret communication with each other: rattling teaspoons or tapping knives and forks at the table, or the apparently aimless "devil's tattoo" of the fingers on the table or armchair are common methods, and i have heard of one in a tight corner who _winked_ out a message appealing for help. it might be well to avoid playing poker at a table where two telegraphers are chums, for it is possible that one might learn when to stay in a little longer for the raise and make a pot a little bigger. when colonel thos. a. scott became assistant secretary of war he called into his service the railroaders and telegraphers whom he knew would be serviceable and faithful to the government. i record here the statement that the first to reach washington upon secretary cameron's call, was mr. scott and his pennsylvania railroaders and telegraphers, who rebuilt and operated the destroyed baltimore & ohio railways and telegraphs, that enabled the first troops to reach the capitol. it was on account of my supposed qualification as a telegrapher that i was subsequently detailed to enter the rebel lines and intercept their telegraphic communication at their headquarters. on one occasion, mentioned further on in this narrative, i was lounging near the old wooden shanty near general beauregard's headquarters at manassas junction. i easily read important dispatches to and from richmond and elsewhere, and repeated the operation hour after hour, several days and nights. it was unfortunately the case, however, that i then had no means of rapid communication with washington to transmit the information gained, although in later years of the war it would have been easy, as i was then a signal officer in the army of the potomac, and might have utilized some retired tree-top and signaled over the heads of the enemy to our own lines. this is rather anticipating my story, and, as uncle rufus hatch once said, when i was acting as his private secretary, and he would become a little mixed in dictating letters to me, "we must preserve the sequence." it is more than likely that i was too young in those days to properly appreciate the advantages of the rapid advancement i had gained in position and salary, especially as the latter enabled me to make a fool of myself; and here comes in my "first love story," which i tell, because it had much to do with the adventures of which this narrative treats. "i loved a maid, and she was wondrous fair to see," and i will designate her as no. , to distinguish this from numerous other such affairs--on both sides of the lines. this affair, which served to further train me for the duties that lay before me, resulted in a visit, during the winter before the war broke out, to western texas, where a wealthy bachelor uncle had a well-stocked plantation, between san antonio and austin. there i became associated with the young sons of the best texas families, and acquired the ability--i had nearly written agility--to ride a bucking broncho and become an expert shot with a colt's revolver. my experience as a rather fresh young pennsylvania boy among the young southern hot-bloods would make too long a chapter here, but suffice it to say that a youthful tendency to give my opinion on political questions, without regard to probable consequences, kept me in constant hot water after president lincoln's election. among the young men with whom i associated, through my uncle's standing and influence, was a grandson of the famous colonel davy crockett, with whom i became involved in a difficulty, and, greatly to the astonishment of the "boys," i promptly accepted his challenge to a pistol fight. some of our older and more sensible friends quickly put an end to the affair. when my uncle (who was absent at austin at the time) returned, he furnished me with a pocketful of gold double-eagles and shipped me off by stage to galveston, whence i crossed the gulf to new orleans and came up the mississippi to my home. immediately preceding the inauguration of mr. lincoln, following closely upon my return from texas, i came on to washington city. the purpose of this visit being solely a desire to gratify an aroused curiosity, by witnessing the sights and incidents consequent upon the impending change of the administration, about which there was much interest and excitement. as i had plenty of time, but not much money, to spend, i looked about for a cheap hotel, and was directed to the st. charles, which was then, as now, located on the corner of third and pennsylvania avenues. here i became domiciled, for the time being, and it so happened that i was seated at the same table in the hotel with senator andy johnson, of tennessee, who was living there, and perhaps through this accidental circumstance it came about that i was so soon to be engaged in the government's service. mr. johnson, it will be remembered, had obtained some distinction by his vigorous defense of the union, in the senate, at a time when nearly all the rest of the southern senators were either openly or secretly plotting treason. in my youthful enthusiasm for the cause of the union, which had become strengthened by the southern associations of the preceding months, i naturally gave to mr. johnson my earliest admiration and sympathy. one day, while walking up pennsylvania avenue, i was surprised to see standing in front of brown's, now the metropolitan hotel, a certain gentleman, earnestly engaged in conversation with senator wigfall, whom i had known in texas as one of the prominent state officials under the then existing administration of governor sam. houston. this gentleman, whose name i withhold, because he is living to-day and is well-known throughout texas, was also at that time a business associate and a personal friend of the texas uncle before referred to. i was pleasantly recognized, and at once introduced to senator wigfall as the "nephew of my uncle." mr. wigfall's dogmatic manner impressed me unfavorably, being so unlike that of mr. johnson. i spent a great many evenings at brown's hotel, in the rooms of my texas friend, where were congregated every night, and late into the mornings, too, nearly all of the texas people who were at that time in the city. in this way, without seeking their confidence, i became a silent and attentive listener to the many schemes and plans that were brewing for the overthrow of the government. among the frequent visitors were wigfall and hon. john c. breckinridge, of kentucky, both of whom are now dead; but there are yet among the living certain distinguished congressmen, at present in washington, who were of that treasonable gang, who will not, i apprehend, deny the truth of the facts i here state. this gentleman's mission in washington, as i learned incidentally during his interviews with senator wigfall and others, was to secure the passage through congress of some appropriation bill of a special character, for the benefit of texas, which, if i rightly remember, referred to lands or school funds, the object being to secure the benefit of the act before that state should pass the secession ordinance. it was understood and admitted during these talks of the plotting traitors that texas should, as a matter of course, secede, but they must first take with them all they could obtain from the general government, the delay in passing the ordinance being caused only by the desire to first secure this money, which this agent had been sent here to press through wigfall and others in congress, and upon the advices of their success being reported to texas, the act of secession would promptly follow this twin robbery and conspiracy. i happened to be present, in the crowded gallery of the senate, when senator wigfall, of texas, during a speech in reply to johnson, in an indirect and insinuating way, while glancing significantly toward senator johnson, quoted the celebrated words of marmion: "lord angus, thou has lied." this incident being discussed at our table one day, at which senator johnson occupied the post of honor, i took a favorable opportunity to intimate to him that i was in possession of facts that would show mr. wigfall to be not only a traitor, but that he was then scheming to first rob the government he had sworn to protect, and afterward intended to destroy, and in my boyish way suggested that the senator should hurl the epithets back at him. i did not for a moment consider that i was betraying any confidence in thus telling of the traitorous schemes to which i had been an unwilling listener. mr. johnson seemed to be impressed with my statements, and for a while lost interest in his dinner. in his free and kindly way he was easily able to "draw me out" to his entire satisfaction, and secured from me the story with the necessary "authorities and references." as he rose from the table he walked around to my seat, shaking my hand cordially, while he invited me to his room for a further conference. after that day, while i remained in washington city, during the time preceding the inauguration of mr. lincoln, and for some weeks following, i became a welcome visitor at the senator's room, oscillating between the headquarters of the rebel conspirators at brown's and the private rooms of the leader of the union cause, and thus was begun my first secret-service work. i had brought with me to washington some letters from mr. scott and other railroad friends, and also enjoyed through this connection a personal acquaintance with "old glory to god," as the hon. john covode was called during the war. this name originated from a telegram which mr. covode wrote to a friend, in which he intended to convey the intelligence of a great union victory; but in the excitement of his big, honest, loyal heart over a union success, which in the early days was a rarity, he neglected to mention the important fact of the victory, and the telegram as received in philadelphia simply read: "to john w. forney: * * * * "glory to god. "john covode." he spelled god with a little g, philadelphia with an f, but he got there just the same. my days in the capitol at that time were usually spent in the gallery of the senate, where were to be seen and heard the great leaders on both sides. some of the southern senators were making their farewell speeches, the words of which i, in my youthful innocence, tried vainly to reconcile with their action, as well as with the proceedings of a peace congress, which was being held at willard's old hall on f street. the evenings of these days i devoted to the observation of the operations of the southern conspirators at the hotel, and watched with concern the preparations for the inauguration of mr. lincoln, who had secretly arrived in the city. in the course of my amateur work among the southern leaders, it so happened that mr. covode and senator johnson had been brought together, and they became mutually interested in my services. one day mr. covode said to me: "see here, young feller, you might do some good for the government in this way. i've talked with johnson about you, and he says he'll help to get you fixed up by the war department." when i expressed a willingness to do anything, the old man said, in his blunt, outspoken way: "hold on now till i tell you about this thing first." then proceeding to explain in his homely, honest words: "there is a lot of money appropriated for secret service, and if you get onto that your pay will be mighty good; but," he added, "it's damned dangerous; for as sure as them fellers ketch you once they will hang you, that's sure as your born." when i observed that i wasn't born to be hanged, he said further, as he fumbled over some papers in his hand: "i don't know about that either, because scott writes me a letter here that says, 'you are smart enough, but you have,'" reading from the letter to refresh his memory, "'unbounded but not well directed energy'." which i didn't know whether to consider complimentary or otherwise. it was arranged that we should visit the secretary of war together, to consult in regard to this future service. we called on general cameron, the secretary, one morning, to whom i was introduced by mr. covode, who explained to the secretary in a few words, in an undertone, what he deemed to be my qualifications and advantages for employment in the secret service. there were no civil-service rules in force at that time. the secretary's office was crowded with persons waiting an opportunity to present to him their claims. after looking around the room, the secretary suggested that, as this was a matter he would like to talk over when he was not so busy, we had better call again. in a few days afterward i went alone to the old war department building, where i stood about for an hour or two, watching the crowd of office-seekers, anxious to serve their country under the new administration, but without getting an opportunity to get anywhere near the secretary's door. this same operation became with me a daily duty for quite a while. one morning i went earlier than usual, and met the secretary as he passed along the corridor to his office, and bluntly accosted him, handing him some letters. i followed him into the room, and stood by the altar, or desk, with a couple of other penitents who were on the anxious bench, while he put on his spectacles and began to read the papers i had handed him. turning to me, he said: "now i'm too busy to attend to this matter. i intend to do something in this direction, but i've not had a chance to look it up; suppose you come--" here i interrupted him and said: "i'd like to go down to montgomery and see what's going on there." this seemed to open a way out of a difficulty for the secretary, and he at once said: "that's all right; you just do that, and let's see what you can do, and i'll fix your matter up with covode." then turning to his desk he wrote something on the back of one of my papers in a handwriting which, to say the least, was mighty peculiar; something which i have never been able to decipher; it was, however, an endorsement from the secretary of war. when i showed the secretary's penmanship to mr. scott, suggesting to him that i thought it was a request for him to furnish me with passes to montgomery, alabama, and return, scott appreciated the joke, and promptly furnished me the necessary documents, saying, laughingly: "you needn't be afraid to carry that paper along with you anywhere; there isn't anybody that will be able to call it an incendiary document." i transferred myself at once to the field of my observations from the united states capital at washington to that of the confederate states of america, then forming at montgomery, alabama, traveling via louisville, stopping a day to see the wonders of the mammoth cave; thence, via chattanooga, tennessee, and augusta, georgia, arriving late one night in montgomery. chapter ii. on duty as a spy at the rebel capital, montgomery, alabama--living in same hotel with jeff davis and his cabinet--conspirators from washington interviewed--bounty offered by confederates before a gun was fired--fort sumter and fort pickens. i was quartered at the exchange hotel, which was the headquarters and home of the leading men of the new government then gathering from all parts of the south. here i spent some days in pretty close companionship with these gentlemen, taking notes in a general way, and endeavoring to learn all i could in regard to their plans. i had learned, while skirmishing about washington, to know at sight nearly all of the prominent people who were active in this movement, and perhaps the fact that i had been somewhat accustomed to being in their society, and being quite youthful gave me an assurance that enabled me to go about among them in a free and open way, without exciting any suspicion. there were among the guests, a recent arrival from washington city, a gentleman of some apparent prominence, as i judged from the amount of attention he was receiving. i made it a point to look closely after him, and soon gathered the information that he had been a trusted employé of the government, and at the same time had been secretly furnishing the rebel leaders, for some months, with information of the government's plans. he was at this time the bearer of important papers to the rebel government. this gentleman's name, which has escaped my memory in these twenty-five years, was placed upon record in the war department at the time. jeff davis, who had been chosen president, and had but recently come from his mississippi home to montgomery, attended by a committee of distinguished southerners, who had been deputed to notify him of his election, lived at the same hotel, where i saw him frequently every day. there were also to be seen in the hotel office, in the corridors, in the barbers' shops, and even in the bar-room, groups of animated, earnest, intensely earnest men, discussing the great "impending conflict." i walked about the streets of the confederate capital with perfect freedom, visiting any place of interest that i could find. throughout the city there was not much in the way of enthusiasm; indeed, the fact that was particularly noticeable then was the apparent difference in this respect between the people at the hotel and the citizens. of course there were meetings and speeches, with the usual brass-band accompaniment every evening, while, during the day, an occasional parade up and down the principal streets of the town, headed by the martial fife and drum, which were always played with delight and a great deal of energy by the colored boys. there was an absence of enthusiasm and excitement among the common people, which was a disappointment to those who had expected so much. the existence of an historical fact, which i have never seen printed, is, that before a gun had been fired by either party, there were posted on the walls of the confederate capital large handbills offering a "bounty" to recruits to their army. in my walks about town my attention was attracted by a bill, posted on a fence, bearing in large letters the heading, bounty. the word was at that time something entirely new to me, and as i was out in search of information, i walked up closer to learn its meaning, and was surprised at the information, as well as the advice the advertisement contained, which was to the effect that certain moneys would be paid all those who would enlist in a certain alabama regiment. lest there should be a disposition to challenge the correctness of this somewhat remarkable statement, i will mention now that this fact was reported to the war department, and a copy of this bounty advertisement was also embodied in a letter that was intended to be a description of the scenes at montgomery, in april, , during the firing on sumter, which i wrote at the time and mailed secretly in the montgomery postoffice, addressed to robert mcknight, then the editor of the pittsburgh _chronicle_, to which i, with an apprehension of a possible rebel censorship, neglected to attach my name. mr. mcknight, the next time i saw him, laughingly asked me if i hadn't sent him such a letter, saying he had printed it, with comments, at the time, which, as nearly as i can remember, was between april th and th, . this was probably among the first letters published from a "war correspondent," written from the actual seat of war. mr. davis occupied a suite of rooms at the exchange, on the left of the first corridor, and there were always congregated about his door groups of men, while others were constantly going and coming from his rooms. i was a constant attendant about this door, and witnessed the many warm greetings of welcome that were so cordially extended to each new arrival as they reported to headquarters. it seemed odd to hear those people talk about the "president," but of course i had to meekly listen to their immense conceit about their "government," as well as their expressions of contempt and hatred for that to which but a short time before, when they had the control, they were so devotedly attached. in the same room with myself was a young fellow who had been at the school at west point, from which he had resigned to enter the rebel service. he kept constantly talking to me about "my state," and the "plebians" of the north, but, as he was able to furnish me with some points, we became quite congenial friends and talked together, after going to bed, sometimes until long after midnight. i was, of course, when necessity or policy demanded it, one of the original secessionists. the attention of everybody both north and south was being directed to fort sumter, and a good deal of the war-talk we heard about the rebel headquarters was in regard to that. this young fellow and i planned to go together to charleston to see the ball open there, and, with this object in view, he set about to learn something of the plans of the "president," which kindness i duly appreciated. one day, while lounging about the hotel corridors, i learned from a conversation between a group of highly exuberant southern gentlemen, which was being hilariously carried on, that president davis and his advisers had that day issued the necessary orders, or authority to general beauregard, to commence firing on the union flag at fort sumter the following day. these gentlemen, none of whose names i remember, excepting wm. l. yancey, were so intent upon their success in thus "precipitating" the rebellion, that they took no notice of the innocent boy who was apparently so intent at that moment upon some interesting item in the paper, but i quietly gathered in all they had to say to each other, and at the first opportunity set about planning to make use of this information; but here i experienced, at the beginning of my career as a spy, the same unfortunate conditions that had so often baffled me and interfered with my success in the months and years following. though reckless and almost foolish in my boyish adventures, i was sufficiently cautious and discreet to know that a telegram conveying this news would not be permitted to go over the wires from montgomery to washington, and to have filed such a message would have subjected me to serious embarrassments. there being no cipher facilities arranged so early in the war, i was left entirely without resource, though i did entertain a project of going to a neighboring town and from there arrange to manipulate the key myself, and in this manner try to give the information, but i was forced to abandon this scheme on learning, which i did by hanging about the dingy little montgomery telegraph office, that all their communications were relayed or repeated once or twice either at augusta or chattanooga and charleston before reaching the north. i did the next best thing, however, hastily writing a letter to washington, which i stealthily dropped into the postoffice, hurrying away lest the clerk should discover who had dropped a letter addressed to a foreign government without payment of additional postage. of those yet living who were witnesses of the "great uprising of the north," after the fall of fort sumter, none are likely ever to forget the scenes which followed so quickly upon this first attempt of the southern fire-eaters to "precipitate the cotton states into the rebellion." solitary and alone i held my little indignation meeting in montgomery, the capital of the rebel government, where i was at the time, if not a stranger in a strange land, at least an enemy in a foreign country. when the news of fort sumter's fall reached montgomery it was bulletined "that every vestige of the hateful enemy has been gloriously driven from the soil of the pioneer palmetto state," and i recall, with distinctness, that the universal comment then was: "we will next clean them out in the same way from florida," etc. i felt that, in having failed to get this information to washington in advance, i had neglected a great opportunity to do the government an important service, but in this i was mistaken, as events subsequently proved that the authorities at washington were powerless to prevent the bombardment that was anticipated. there was no person among that people to whom i dare talk, for fear of betraying myself by giving vent to my feelings, so i walked wildly up and down the one main street of montgomery in a manner that at any other time would have been considered eccentric, but, as everybody was wild that day, my actions were not noticed. feeling that i must blow off steam some way or i should bust, i continued my walk out on the railroad track beyond the outskirts of the town, in the direction of charleston. during my walk i met an old "uncle," whom, from the color of his skin, i knew to be a true friend of the government, and into the wide-awake ears of this old man i poured a wild, incendiary harangue about what would surely happen to this people. this was not a very sensible thing to do, either, at that time, but i just had to say something to somebody, and this was my only chance. after having thus exhausted my high pressure on the poor old man, who must have thought me crazy, i discovered that my legs were "exhausted," too, and turned my face wearily back toward the city. that night there were serenades and speeches, with the regular brass-band accompaniment impromptu processions up and down the main street, headed by the fife-and-drum music of the colored "boys," as all the "likely" colored men were called down south at that time, even if they were forty years old. i had seen jeff davis once during the day, while in his room surrounded by a crowd of enthusiastic friends, and, though i did not have occasion to speak to "the president," i was close enough to him on the day he gave the command to fire sumter, to have killed him on the spot, and i was about wild and crazy enough at the time to have made the attempt without once considering the consequences to myself, if there had occurred at the instant any immediate provocation. mr. davis' manner and appearance always impressed me with a feeling of kindness and even admiration. in the years following it became my fate to have been near his person in disguise, frequently while in richmond, and i could at any time then have ended his career by sacrificing my own life, if the exigencies of the government had in my imagination required it. i took note of the fact that a great deal was being said about what they would do next, at fort pickens, in pensacola harbor. to this point i directed my attention, determined that another such an affair as this at charleston should not escape me. one night, shortly after i had reached montgomery, when my west point companion and i had retired for the night, but were yet talking over the great future of the south, as we did every night, he almost paralyzed me by saying, "well, stranger, you talk all right, of course, but do you know that you remind me mightily of the fellows at the point, who are all the time meddling about the affairs of our southern states." fortunately for me, perhaps, the room was dark at the time, which enabled me the better to hide the embarrassment that daylight must have shown in my face and manner. after recovering my breath a little, i put on an indignant air and demanded a repetition of the remark. this served to allay any suspicions that he may have been entertaining, for the young fellow, in his gentlemanly and courteous manner, was at once profuse in his explanations, which gave me the time to collect my thoughts. i told him that i was the nephew of an english gentleman, who lived away off in western texas, who owned any quantity of cattle and niggers; i was then on my way, from school at the north, to my texas home, tarrying at montgomery, _en route_, to meet some friends. this was more than satisfactory to the young man, who seemed to take especial pleasure after this in introducing me to any friends that we would come across while together so constantly in montgomery. this mother tongue "provincialism" was one of the greatest difficulties that i encountered in these southern excursions, though at the time of which i am now writing strangers were not scrutinized so closely as became the rule soon after, when martial law was everywhere in operation, and provost-marshals were exceedingly numerous. i had endeavored to bridle my tongue as far as possible. my plan to quiet this apprehension was to play the "refugee" from maryland, "my maryland," or else, if the circumstances and surroundings were better adapted to it, i was an english sympathizer who had but recently arrived in the country. the maryland racket was, however, the most popular, and it was also the easiest worked, because i had another uncle living in baltimore, whom i had frequently visited, and, as has been stated, i was born almost on the maryland line of english stock. while in montgomery it did not seem necessary to hang about the telegraph offices to obtain information. i availed myself however of this "facility" to learn something more definite about the programme they had laid out for fort pickens, in pensacola harbor, to which, after the fall of fort sumter, the attention of both the north and the south was being directed. the "government at washington" which was at this time cut off from any communication with its officers at pickens except by sea, had, after the manner of major anderson at sumter, secretly withdrawn their little handful of troops, who were under the command of lieutenant slemmer, a native of pennsylvania, step by step, as they were pressed by the arrival each day of detachments of quite fresh militia from the sovereign state of florida, to fort barrancas first, then to fort mcrae, on the mainland, and from thence to pickens, which is located on the extreme point of santa rosa island, on the opposite side of the bay or harbor from forts mcrae and barrancas. i was able to learn from the general character of its extensive telegraph correspondence, which was being carried on over the wires, that president lincoln had in some way expressed, in the hearing of the secret agents of the rebel government (who were in washington and in constant communication with the conspirators at montgomery) an earnest desire to reinforce fort pickens, with a view to holding possession of that one point in the "cotton state" that had seceded from the union; and the navy department at washington, especially desiring to control the harbor and navy yards located there, had, if i remember aright, already dispatched by water a small fleet to their aid, but which would require a week or ten days to reach pensacola, they having to go around by the ocean to key west and up the gulf of mexico, doubling the entire peninsula of florida. as i had left washington some time before, and had not had any communication with the north while in montgomery, all this information was derived entirely through rebel sources, and more particularly by the noisy tongue of a telegraph sounder, which talked loud enough for me to hear whenever i chose to get within sound of its brazen voice. i was exceedingly anxious to get back north, that i might take some active part in the coming struggle, but fate decreed otherwise; and, instead of getting out of this tight place, it was my destiny to have been led still deeper into the mire. i was within a day's travel of the beleaguered little garrison at fort pickens, with a positive knowledge that the government was coming to their assistance, and also the information that at the same time the rebel government had some designs upon them, the exact nature of which i could not ascertain. in this emergency, while i do not believe that i felt it a duty, i am sure that i did think it would be a good thing for the fellows at pickens to be informed of the intentions of _both_ the governments toward them, and as i could not then communicate with secretary cameron, at washington, i concluded to take the matter in my own hands, and find out, if possible, just what was proposed, and endeavor to communicate with secretary cameron. by giving close attention to the guests at the hotel, who were mostly officials of the newly made government, i ascertained by mere accident that a certain gentleman was at that moment getting ready to leave the hotel for the boat, on his way to pensacola as a bearer of dispatches or as a commissioner--there were lots of commissioners in those early days--to settle the status of affairs at that point. this circumstance decided my actions at once, and as i had seen enough of montgomery, and was besides becoming a little uneasy about my status there, i concluded to accompany this commissioner and, if possible, anticipate him in bearing my own dispatch to lieutenant slemmer, so i shadowed the ambassador closely and walked up the gang plank at the same time he did; as i remember very well the plank was very springy and the ambassador of jeff davis and the secret agent of the secretary of war kept step, and marked time on the gang plank, both bound for the same destination but on widely different errands. chapter iii. pensacola, florida--in rebel lines--fort pickens--admiral porter and the navy. the sail down the alabama river from montgomery to mobile was most agreeable. i do not now recollect any incident of the trip worthy of mention. i did not, of course, obtrude myself upon our ambassador's dignity, knowing that as long as the boat kept going he was not liable to escape from me. there were some ladies aboard, and to these the gallant captain of the boat introduced his distinguished passenger, and among them they made up a card party, which occupied their attention long after i had gone to my room to sleep and dream of my home and "the girls i left behind me." i became quite homesick that night, and would very much rather have been aboard a steamboat on the mississippi river headed up stream than penned up in this queer-looking craft, loaded with rebels, which was carrying me, i imagined as i half slept, down to perdition. there was a steam music machine on the boat somewhere, called a calliope, which made the night and day both hideous. they played "home, sweet home," among other selections, but even to my feelings, at that time, the musical expression was not exactly such as would bring tears to one's eyes. the machine, however, served to rouse the lazy colored people all along the high banks of the river, who flocked to the shores like a lot of crows. we reached mobile in due time, and my dignitary and his "confidential companion," as i might be permitted to term myself, may be found properly registered in the books of the battle house at mobile, some time in the latter part of april, . i will mention how, also, that an account of this trip and its object was written on the blank letter-heads of this hotel, addressed in a careless handwriting to mr. j. covode, washington, d. c., unsigned by myself, and secretly dropped into the postoffice at mobile. i imagined that mobile being a large city and having several routes of communication with the north, my letter might, by some possibility, get through, and, strange to relate, _it did_, and was subsequently quoted by mr. covode in the committee on the conduct of war. i lost sight of my "traveling companion" while in mobile. you know it would not have been either polite or discreet to have pressed my company too closely on an official character like this, so it happened that he left the hotel without consulting me, and i supposing, of course, that he had left for pensacola, made my arrangements to follow. to reach pensacola there was a big river or bay to cross from mobile. when i got aboard the little boat, the first thing i did, of course, was to look quietly about for "my man." he was not aboard, as i found after the boat had gotten out into the stream, when it was too late to turn back. an old stage coach or hack was at that time the only conveyance to pensacola, except by water. the thing was piled full of humanity inside and out--young and old men, who were fair representations of the different types of the southern character, all of whom were bent on visiting the next battle-scene--then a point of great interest in the south since the curtain had been rung down at sumter. they were all "feeling mighty good," too, as they say down there; every blessed fellow seemed to be provided with an individual flask, and during the dreadfully tiresome drag of the old coach across the sandy and sometimes swampy roads of that part of florida and alabama our party became quite hilarious. among them was a prominent official of one of the rebel military companies, then located about pensacola, who was quite disgusted at the tardiness of their "government" in not moving at once on fort pickens. he and a fat old gentleman, who was more conservative, and defended the authorities, discussed the military situation at length during the trip; and as both had been over the ground at pensacola, and were somewhat familiar with the situation, they unintentionally gave me in advance some interesting points to look up when we should reach there. among other things, they talked about a "masked battery" of ten-inch columbiads. now, i didn't know at that time what a "masked battery" could be, and had no idea that ten-inch columbiads meant big cannon that would throw a ball that measured ten inches in diameter. i had formed a plan of procedure in advance, which was to pretend, as at montgomery, to be the nephew of an englishman, on my way from school in the north to my texas home, and was just stopping over at pensacola to gratify my desire to see the "yankees cleaned out" there. i had been carefully advised early in this undertaking not to attempt to gather information by asking questions, but, as a rule, to let others do the talking, and to listen and confirm by observation, if possible. this was good advice, volunteered by a discreet old man, who had bid me good-by at washington some weeks back; and that beautiful spring evening, as i was being driven right into the camps of the rebel army, accompanied by men who were the first real soldiers i had seen, i recalled with a distinctness almost painful the words of caution and advice which at that time i had scarcely heeded. when the old hack reached pensacola all were somewhat toned down, and after a hearty supper and a hasty look around the outside of the dirty little tavern at which we stopped, i went to bed, to sleep, perhaps to dream of home and friends two thousand miles away. the distance seemed to be increased ten-fold by the knowledge that the entire territory between me and home was encompassed by a howling mob that would be only too glad to tear me to pieces, as a stray dog among a pack of bloodhounds, while the other path was the boundless ocean. the soldiers who in the early days were not so well disciplined as in after years, took possession of the hotel, at least all the down stairs part of it, where there was liquor and eatables, and kept up such a terrific row that sleep was almost impossible. early next morning i was out of my cot, and before breakfast i took a walk around the place. the town of pensacola is situated on the low, sandy mainland, on the bay, and lies some distance from the navy yard, or that portion of pensacola which is occupied by the government for the forts barrancas and mcrae. this government reservation is quite extensive, including the beautiful bay, navy yard and grounds, with officers' quarters, and shell roads on the beach for some distance beyond the yard; on the further extremity were built forts barrancas and mcrae, which were at this time in possession of the rebel soldiers. lieutenant slemmer a short time previously moved his little force of regulars across the bay to fort pickens, which was on a spit or spur of santa rosa island, almost immediately opposite, but i think about four miles distant. this sombre old fort pickens is built upon about as desolate and isolated a spot as will be found anywhere on the coast from maine to texas, but viewed as it was by me that morning, from the camps of the rebels, standing behind their great masked batteries, in which were the immense ten-inch columbiads, i felt from the bottom of my soul that i never saw anything so beautiful as the old walls of the fort, on which the stars and stripes were defiantly floating in the breeze, right in the face of their big guns, and in spite of all the big blustering talk i had listened to for so many days. how glad i was to see that flag there. i felt as if i could just jump and yell with delight and then fly right over the bay, to get under its folds once more. i had not seen the flag since leaving washington, and had heard of its surrender at sumter in the hateful words of the rebels. i am not able to describe the feelings which came over me at this time, and after a lapse of twenty-five years, while i am writing about it, the same feelings come over me. only those who have witnessed the picture of the stars and stripes floating over a fortress, viewed from the standpoint of an enemy's camp, can properly appreciate its beauty. all my homesickness and forebodings of evil vanished at the sight, and with redoubled energy i determined to discover and thwart any schemes that might be brewing in the rebel camp to bring down that beautiful emblem. i became apprehensive lest i might be too late, and fearful that these immense columbiads, if once they belched forth their ten-inch shells, would soon batter down the walls, and i determined that the presence of this masked battery must be made known to the commandant at the fort. it was upon this battery that the rebels depended for success, as they had said it was erected secretly, and the big guns were mounted at night. fort pickens had not been built to resist an attack from the rear, as none such had ever been contemplated; and the rebel officers knowing the weakness of this inside of the fort, had erected their masked battery of great guns to play upon that particular point. they were all positive, too, that lieutenant slemmer and his men were in total ignorance of the existence of this battery, which was correct, as subsequently demonstrated. i became so much interested in the exciting and strange surroundings, in the very midst of which i found myself one morning at pensacola, that i had almost forgotten about our commissioner, who must have left mobile by way of the gulf in one of the old boats that plied between the two cities. anyway, i had no further use for him now, as everything was right before my eyes, and i saw at once that they meant war. it was understood, in a general way of course, that all these great preparations opposite fort pickens was for the purpose of driving off the "invaders" and capturing the old fort. that afternoon, after having tramped about over the sandy beach until i was thoroughly fatigued, i sat down in the rear of some earthworks that were being constructed under the directions of some of their officers. after waiting for a favorable opportunity, i ventured to ask one of them if there wasn't enough big cannon already mounted to bombard that fort over there, pointing toward pickens. to which he replied curtly, "if you are around here when we begin the job you will find out all about that." i did not press the inquiry further just then, but i kept my eyes and ears open, and made good use of my legs as well, and tramped about through that miserable, sandy, dirty camp till i became too tired to go further. the navy yard proper, which included the well-kept grounds around the officers' quarters, about which were growing in beautiful luxuriance the same tropical plants of that section, was between, or in rear of, the rebel batteries and the town of pensacola. in my walks about the camps i strutted boldly through the open gates, before which stood an armed sentry, and walked leisurely about the beautiful grounds. i took occasion to try to talk to an old invalid sailor who had been left at the hospital at that point by some man-of-war. the conversation was not exactly of such a character as would invite one to prolong a visit in the place, as all i could get out from him was "just mind what i tell ye, now, youngster, will you? the yaller jack is bound to clean out this whole damn place before very long; you better go home, and stay there, too." after this pleasant conversation he hobbled off, without waiting for any further remarks from me. there was a telegraph office at pensacola, which i visited. i learned of a dispatch making some inquiry of the officials about the probability of "reducing" the fort. i didn't exactly understand then what was meant by "reducing" a fort, and imagined for a while that it referred in some way to cutting down its proportions. on inquiry, however, i gathered its true import, and learned also, by way of illustrations from the lips of a rebel officer, that "now that columbiad battery, which is masked, and has been built at night without the knowledge of the enemy, is the machine that is going to do the 'reducing,' or, if you like it better, demolishing of the fort, because," said he, as he became enthusiastic, "that battery is so planted that it is out of range of any guns there are at the fort, and it will work on the rear or weak side of the old fort, too." this conversation was held at the "tavern" during the evening, after this blatant officer had refreshed himself after the day's work. i ascertained that he had been an officer in the united states army, and was of course familiar with the exact condition of the affairs at the fort. each day, as soon as i had had breakfast, i would start out on my long walks down past the navy yard, through and beyond the rebel earthworks. there was not a single cannon pointed toward the fort or the ships, which were lying out beyond, that i did not personally inspect. i made a careful mental inventory of everything, and had the names of the regiments, and each officer commanding them, carefully stowed away in my memory, with the expectation, in some way not yet quite clear, of sending the full details across that bay to the united states commander at pickens. that i was not suspected at all, is probably due to the fact that at this same time visitors were of daily occurrence--ladies and gentlemen came like excursion parties from mobile and other convenient points, as everybody expected there would be just such scenes as had been witnessed at charleston a few days previous. the earthworks, as will be understood, extended for quite a long distance on the beach and were intended also to oppose the entrance of hostile ships to the harbor, it being well understood that the fort could only receive their heavy supplies at the regular landing, or pier, which, as before stated, was on the inside of the bay or the weak wall of the fort. any light supplies, as well as men and ammunition, must necessarily be landed through the surf, on the outside of santa rosa island. fort mcrae was an entirely round, turret-shaped old work, situated at the extreme outer point. next to it, and some distance inside, was fort barrancas, while all along the beach--in suitable locations--were "sand batteries" and the great masked battery. here i saw for the first time piles of sand-bags laying one above the other, in tiers, like they now handle car-loads of wheat in california--wicker baskets filled with sand, which we used to see in the school-book pictures of the war with mexico. no persons were allowed to approach the masked battery, the existence of which was ingeniously concealed from view by a dense growth, or thicket, something like sage-bush, that had not been disturbed by the excavations. sentries were placed some distance from this, who warned all visitors to pass some distance to the rear, from which a good view could be had of the entire work. to better conceal this terrible battery, squads of soldiers were employed, diligently engaged in mounting guns on another little battery in full view of the officers at pickens. lieutenant slemmer told me, when i saw him a few days after this, that he had kept an officer on the lookout continually, and saw all this work, and though they suspected that larger guns would be put into use, they had failed to discover any signs of them. i had formed an acquaintance with a young officer, i think of an alabama company, in whose company i had visited some points that were not easily accessible to strangers. in this way, i got inside of "bomb proofs" and magazines, and went through fort mcrae, which was then being used as a guard-house or prison. with my newly-found friend, i went in bathing in the evenings, and was introduced by him to others, who had the privilege of using the boats, and we frequently took short sails about the bay, but always back of the navy yard, or between that and the town. looking toward pickens we could see at any and all times the solitary sentinel on the ramparts, and occasionally some signs of life about the "barn door" that faced toward us. the number of vessels outside was being increased by new arrivals occasionally, when some excitement would be created by the firing of salutes. one of the queer things, and that which seemed to interest the officers as well as every soldier in sight, was the display of signal flags at the fort, which would be answered by the appearance of a string of bright little flags from the men-of-war, which were constantly dancing up and down on the swell, while at anchor a couple of miles outside. even the colored boys and cooks would, at the appearance of this phenomena, neglect their fires and spoil a dinner perhaps, to watch, with an interest that became contagious, the operation of this signaling. many of them thought, no doubt, that this was an indication of the commencement of hostilities, and anxiously hoped to hear a gun next. there was some apprehension among the officers that one of the men-of-war might run past the batteries at night and destroy the navy yard and town. if there had been a signal officer on the ramparts of fort pickens with a good glass, advised of my presence on the sandbank (with my subsequent familiarity with army signaling), it would have been not only possible, but entirely practicable, for me to have signaled by the mere movement of my arms, or perhaps fingers, the information that was so important that they should have. these additional war facilities did not come into use for a year after, when the necessity arose for it. there was loading with lumber at the pier at pensacola a large three-masted english sailing vessel to put to sea, some arrangement having been made with the authorities on both sides to permit her to go out. i had been figuring on a plan to get a letter over to the fort secretly. it did not at first occur to me that it would be possible to cross myself with safety, and knowing that in passing out, this ship would have to run in close by fort pickens, i set about to mature a plan to make use of this opportunity, and with this object in view i spent some time aboard the ship trying to make the acquaintance of someone. but i found this to be too uncertain, and too slow besides. the infernal englishmen were openly hostile to the government. it was my daily custom to sit on a sandbank right in the rear of my rebel officers' camp, and, while not otherwise occupied, i would gaze by the hour toward that little band in the grim-looking old prison of a fort, and wish and plan and pray that i could in some way have but one minute's talk with lieutenant slemmer. i felt that i must get word to him at any cost. i could not risk swimming, on account of the numerous sharks in the water, which were more to be feared than the harbor boats that patrolled up and down between the two forces. there were at pensacola, as at all such places, small boats for hire to fishing and pleasure parties. i concluded that by hiring one of these boats for a few days' fishing, with a colored boatman to accompany me, while ostensibly spending the day in sight of the guard-boats fishing--innocently fishing for suckers--to disarm any suspicion, i might have an opportunity, when it became dark, to crowd toward the opposite shore of santa rosa island, some distance from fort pickens; and once on the island i could, under cover of night, steal down the shore to the fort, and communicate with the officers, and, still under cover of the darkness, return to the mainland and make tracks through the swamps towards mobile or new orleans. in carrying out this plan, it was essential that i should find a colored boatman to pilot and row me out on the bay, on whom i might safely trust my return and escape from the place. by way of reconnoitering, or practice, i hired such a boat for a couple of hours' pleasure, taking a companion with me, and in this way i looked over the ground--or, rather, water--and concluded that the scheme was feasible, and determined to put it into execution as soon as possible. in anticipation of this sudden departure, i made a final visit to the camp of some of the friends, with whom i had become acquainted, that night, to say good-by. in this way my montgomery commissioner's errand was accidentally brought to view. while talking about leaving, one of the officers said, "you should wait a day or two and see the fun;" and when i expressed a doubt as to the early commencement of the ball, he continued, "oh, but there is a bearer of dispatches here from montgomery, who says those texas troops have been ordered here, and as soon as they get here from new orleans the plan is for us all to go over on the island, away back, and, after the columbiads have battered down the walls, we're going to walk right into the fort." here it was, then: the masked battery was to open the door and the troops were to approach from the island, and this must succeed, as the officers in the fort certainly had no expectation of this sort of an attack from the rear, and could not resist it. the men must be prevented from landing on the island; i must go over that night to post them, and i got there. chapter iv. crossing the bay to fort pickens, etc. strategy was another of the new military terms which i had heard used a great deal by these rebel officers during their conversations among themselves and with their daily visitors and admirers. the general subject of conversation was in reference to the plans to "reduce" fort pickens, which persisted so defiantly in hoisting in their faces at every sunrise the stars and stripes, and which was only lowered at sunset with a salute from the guns of the fort and the ships, to be again floated as surely as the sun rose the next morning and the guns boomed out on the morning air their good morning salute. this daily flaunting of the flag had became quite as irritating to these fellows as the red flag to a bull, every one of whom seemed to me to be impatient to take some sort of steps individually to at once end the war then and there and get home. in all their talks, to which i was an attentive listener during the several days that i spent in their camps, i do not now recall a single expression of doubt from any of them as to their final success in capturing the fort. with them it was only a question of time. the criticism or demonstration which seemed to be most general among citizens as well as the military was, that the tardiness or delay in ordering the assault, upon the part of the montgomery officials, was "outrageous." but now that they had a knowledge of the recent arrival of the "commissioner"--whose title was changed on his arrival at the seat of war to that of "general" and "bearer of dispatches"--all hands seemed more happy and contented. it was well understood among the higher officers there that the plan of the authorities was, secretly, or under cover of night, to make a lodgement on the island by the use of the shipping they had in the harbor, and, once securely established there, the masked battery would open upon the weak or unprotected side of the fort, and open a breach through which the rebel troops would be able to rush in and capture the little garrison, and "haul down the flag." i had obtained full information of the enemy's plans. as i had so closely followed the course of events from montgomery; had personally visited every fort and battery; had become familiar with the number and location of the troops, as well as with the character and calibre of every gun that was pointed at the flag on pickens; and had, beside this--which was more important--secured valuable information as to the proposed surprise of that little garrison. my only desire was to get this information to our commander at fort pickens, for their own and the country's good, coupled with a strong inclination to defeat these bombastic rebels. i had no thought of myself whatever, and did not, in my reckless enthusiasm, stop for a moment to consider that, in attempting to run the gauntlet of the harbor boats and the shore sentinels on both sides, i was risking my life as a spy. while i do not remember to have been inspired with any feelings of the "lofty patriotism," i am surely conscious of the fact that my motives were certainly unselfish and disinterested. that there was no mercenary motive, may be inferred from the simple fact that i have not in these twenty-five years ever claimed or received anything from the government in the way of pecuniary reward for this trip. i began at once to make practical application of the strategy, about which i had heard so much in the enemy's camp, and which mr. lossing, the historian, says: "as an artifice or scheme for deceiving the enemy in war, is regarded as honorable, and which is seldom if ever applied without the aid of the scout or spy's service." a reference to a map of the northwestern part of florida will, at a glance, indicate the relative positions of the rebel and union forces with far greater distinctness than i am able to describe, though, after an absence of twenty-five years, every point is as firmly impressed on my mind as if it were but a week since i saw it all, and i venture the assertion that, if permitted to revisit the scenes in florida, i could locate with exactness the ground occupied by every battery at that time. of course it was out of the question to have attempted to cross the bay to fort pickens anyway near the batteries, or in proximity to the navy yard, because that portion of the water lying within range of the guns was being very closely "outlooked" all the time, both by the sentinels and officers with their glasses at each of the forts. they had nothing else to do, so put in the long hours scrutinizing everything that made an appearance on the water. this part of the bay was also constantly patrolled by a number of guard or harbor boats, which were quite swift, well manned, and armed with what i think they called swivel guns, placed in the bow of the boat--a piece of artillery that may be best described as a cross between a chesapeake bay duck gun and a howitzer. i think, too, there were torpedoes placed in the channel, which they did not want disturbed by anything smaller than a united states man-of-war, if any such should venture to run past their batteries. i was not apprehensive of becoming mixed up with any of these myself, because my route would necessarily be some distance away. the ships-of-war, which were anchored outside the harbor, had been detected by the rebel guard boats in their attempts to run their small muffled gigs, as they called them, close to the shore batteries on dark nights. on several occasions these nighthawks came so close to each other in their patrols that the whispered voices of each could be heard over the water. this naval outpost, or picket duty on the water, was conducted pretty much the same as is the usage on a dark night in the woods--both sides being too much scared to move or speak lest the other should get the first shot, and mutually rejoiced when the sound died away in the distance. the ships outside were being manoeuvered or changed every day. sometimes quite a fleet would be in sight, and the next morning half of them had disappeared. it was understood, of course, that, in attacking the fort, the men-of-war would at once come to the assistance of its garrison with their guns, but, if a battery could be placed on the island, the ships could be driven out of range of supporting distance, and, beside this, a storm would necessitate their all getting out to sea, so their assistance would be quite conditional. this is why the government and naval officers especially desired not only to retain fort pickens, but as well to silence the rebel batteries opposite, and to secure and retain that most excellent harbor and navy yard on the gulf, so convenient for future operations against mobile and new orleans. my only hope was to cross to the island, some six or eight miles above the fort (pickens) and nearly opposite the town of pensacola, whence, under cover of the night, i might crawl down the shore on the opposite side to the fort. this scheme necessitated a good bit of boating, as it would be necessary to double the route so as to get back before daylight. in looking about for a boat, and a colored oarsman whom i could control or depend upon to get me over and back, and then keep quiet until i could get away toward new orleans or mobile, i selected a black young fellow of about my own age, and in whose good-natured countenance i thought i could discover a willingness to do anything he was told. from this chap i engaged a boat for a day's fishing, it being well understood at the time that no boats of any kind were permitted to be out after dark. i had, however, taken particular pains to let it be known at the boat-house, where the boats were usually kept, that myself and a friend, who was well known there as a rebel above suspicion, were going together to take a boat for a lark, and they should not be at all uneasy if we tied up for the night some place above town. i had, of course, no intention of taking my friend along, and this was just a little bit of "strategy" to deceive the enemy. i had, in the hearing of a number of his comrades, directed the boatman to prepare enough bait and other little requirements for this trip to last us until late into the night. he was a jolly, good-natured, bare-footed, ragged fellow, the blackest i could find, and was tickled all to pieces with the taffy and little bit of money he got in advance, as well as with a prospect for something extra, if he should be detained very late that night. in an apparently indifferent way i also took occasion to mention at the house where i had been boarding, that i was obliged to leave for texas, and made all my preparations accordingly, but proposed to have first a day's fishing in company with some friend, and might possibly spend the night with them. i didn't have any baggage to bother about, having merely stopped off while _en route_ to texas. when i got into that little boat that day, i doubt not that i looked as if i were desperately intent on having a day's fun and was fully equipped for handling any quantity of fish. i had taken off my coat--the weather in florida at that season being quite warm and pleasant--and as i sat in the stern sheets of the little boat, with a steering oar in my hand, dressed only in a collarless shirt, pants and shoes, with a greyish slouch hat tipped back on my head, i have no doubt that my appearance was at least sufficiently careless or indifferent to disarm any apprehensions that might rise as to the real object of the trip. it was necessary, in starting, to explain that my "companion" was detained, but would join us at a friend's house some distance above the town later in the afternoon, in the direction of which i as steersman pointed the bow of the boat, as we pulled out from the shore, bearing purposely in a direction leading farthest from the island and the fort. my recollection is, that it is about four miles across the bay to the island and six or eight miles down the bay to the outside point on which fort pickens is located. with the exception of this garrison, santa rosa may, in the language of the school-books, be called an uninhabited island. at the present time, however, geronimo and his band of murdering apache indians are, with their military guard, the only inhabitants of the desolate place, and they are prisoners. when we had gotten out from shore a good distance, we stopped for a while, just to try our luck, but as it was not a satisfactory location, after a little delay, we moved further off, when we would again drop our little anchor, to go through the same motions and move out, just a little bit, almost imperceptibly to those on shore each time. of course, my colored boy had no idea but that i really meant this fishing excursion for sport. he was full of fun and really enjoyed himself very much. i was uneasy, and imagined that everybody on shore had conspired to watch our little boat, which was drifting about aimlessly on the tide, a mile or so out from the rebel shore. on account of this apprehension, i was more careful to so direct our movements that suspicion would be disarmed, and, as far as practicable, i kept the bow of the boat pointed in the direction of pensacola, actually backing out into the stream, when the tide would naturally keep us out. my object was to keep up this sort of an appearance all afternoon, and then toward dusk (as i had told the oarsman) we would land further up, where my friend was visiting, and where i had agreed to meet him. a race over the bay to fort pickens with a rebel harbor boat was out of the question, even with a mile of a start, because they were not only quite fast and well manned, but their little cannon were entirely "too sudden" and could soon overtake us. did we catch any fish? will be asked. no, this is not a fish story, and i was myself too intent upon watching the movements of all the little boats along shore to pay much attention to the fish; in this case i was the sucker myself, that was hunting a hole in the meshes of the net that i might escape. i had put the latest new york _herald_ in my coat pocket during the morning; this i got out and, as i sat in the stern sheets, i pretended in a careless way to become interested while the colored boy did the fishing. along in the evening, about sundown, i saw with some alarm one of the little tug-boats come puffing around from the navy yard, and it seemed in my imagination that they were bearing directly toward us, as we were then far enough from the shore to have excited suspicion. to be prepared, i directed the boy to take the oars and we made a movement as if intending to return. the tug came within hailing distance and, without shutting off their noisy steam-exhaust, hallooed something which i inferred was the patrol officer's notice that it was time to tie up. they passed on in to the pier at pensacola, while we in the deepening twilight, while seemingly headed toward shore, were silently drifting with the tide further and further away. being in the stern, with a steering oar in my hand, the colored boy at the oars, with his face toward me and his back to the bow, he did not discover for quite a while through the now almost darkness that we were moving out to sea instead of going in to shore, as i had pretended. when he did get the bearings through his sluggish brain, he seemed all at once to have become awakened to a sense of the greatest fear. he stopped rowing abruptly and, looking about him in every direction, his eyes seemed to become almost wild with fright, showing a good deal of white through the darkness that seemed now to have come down upon us all at once; he said, huskily, as he attempted to turn the boat around with one oar: "good lawd, it's dark, and all niggers got to be in doors 'fore this. ise gwine home, boss." when i tried to laugh him out of his terror, and explained that i had told his master at the pier that i was going to keep him out late, it did not satisfy him. he insisted on going straight back over the course i had been leading all day. the poor slave said: "boss, it's de law, any nigger caught out at night gets thirty-nine lashes; and if dese soger-masters knowed i was over on this side, dey kill me, suah." we were then probably a mile off the island shore--the darkness and distance had concealed us from the rebel shore, and i must not, _would_ not return then. i tried every way to prevail upon this poor ignorant slave to keep on rowing; that i would steer him to "my friend's house," which, in my mind's eye, had been fort pickens, but he wouldn't have it so; he knew, he said, "there wasn't nobody's house up on dat shore." under the circumstances, what could i do? he had the oars in his hands but wouldn't use them, while i, with my steering-oar, was helpless. i was within but a little distance of the shore that i had looked upon so often and so wistfully from the rebel side, yet this fellow could prevent my reaching it; and in attempting to force him to do my bidding i risked making a disturbance which would speedily bring the guard-boats to the spot. i do not claim that it was a brave act at all, but, realizing at the time that i must take command of the boat, i quietly reached for a stilletto, or dirk knife, which i had bought in anticipation of having to use or show as a quiet sort of weapon where any noises were to be avoided. with this bright steel blade pointing at the now terrified darkey, i ordered him to row, and if he dared take a hand off the oar i'd cut him and feed the pieces to the sharks in the bay. i don't know what i should have done if he had resisted, but i think that at the moment i would have become a murderer, and, if necessary, have used not only the knife, but also the pistol, which i had by me. seeing my determination, and especially the knife, the "contraband" laid back on his oars and pulled for the shore lustily, looking neither to the right nor the left, but keeping both his white eyes riveted on my dagger and pistol. i comforted him a little, because, you see, i'd got to get back, and it was necessary that he should keep still until i got away. i knew he would do this, because it would certainly have been punishment for himself to have admitted that he had been over to the yankees. now that i had committed an overt act in this attempt to reach the enemy, the die was cast for me, and i must carry it through. imagine for a moment my feelings when the boy stopped rowing suddenly and, craning his neck over to the water in a listening attitude, said, huskily, "boss, dats dem; dats de boat." great heavens, we were yet a long distance out from the island, having been gradually working down instead of going directly over. my first impulse was to row madly for the shore, but the darkey knew better than i, when he said, "best keep still, and don't talk, boss." listening again, i could hear the voices distinctly, and it seemed to me through the darkness that they were right upon us; we floated quietly as a log in the water for a few terrible moments of suspense, i took off my shoes and stockings and prepared to jump overboard and swim for the shore, if we came to close quarters. if they captured me i'd be hung, while the slave's life was safe, because he was valued at about $ , . resuming his oar, the boy said, "that's at the navy yard." "why," i said, "are we near the navy yard?" "no, boss; but you can hear people talkin' a mighty long ways at night; we niggers is used to hearin' 'em; we git chased in every night." after this scare i "hugged" the shore pretty close; it seemed to me then to have been a long ways down that sandy beach, because of the suspense and uncertainty, perhaps. we stole along quietly, not knowing but that some trap might have been set along the island to catch any contrabands who might want to run off from their masters, and again i did not know but what the rebels themselves might have a guard out there; and if i did see any persons, how was i to be sure that they were friends from fort pickens. there are some sensations that can better be imagined than described. to add to my discomfort on that most eventful night in my life, i witnessed for the first time the strange, weird phenomenon of the phosphorescent water, which is, i believe, quite common in the south. to me, at this time, it had almost a supernatural appearance. while gliding along smoothly between life and death, my nerves strung to the utmost tension, suddenly i noticed that the oars, as they were lifted from the water, were covered with a strange gleam and that the water into which i was drifting had turned to molten lead, without flame; and as we went along now quite rapidly, there was left in our wake a long, winding, wiggling, fiery serpent which, to my heated imagination, seemed to be a machination of the devil and his imps to illuminate our path for the benefit of his friends--the rebels. if a picture could be made of this scene, which, i may say, was dramatic, it should represent our dingy little boat moving along a desolate shore in the darkness and solitude of a midnight in florida; the black oarsman, with open mouth, the whites of his eyes showing most conspicuously, as he twisted his head around to look over the water in the direction of the rebels. i sat in the stern of the boat, dressed in a slouch hat and open shirt, steering-oar in hand, looking back and around in a puzzled way at the glimmering will-o'the-wisp trail in our wake. the distant background would show the grim walls of fort pickens, with a few vessels riding at anchor beyond. on the other side would be the outlines of the rebel batteries, with their sentries, while on the water, the guard or harbor boats. my colored boatman, however, did not pay any attention to this play of light about our boat; grimly he dipped and lifted the oars, the blades covered with a peculiar yellowish light, while the water, as it dropped back into the sea, splashed and sparkled as i had seen molten metal in the molds of the foundries at home. in reply to my hushed expression of surprise, the boatman said: "o, dat ain't nothin'; it's the fire out of some of dem big guns, i'se lookin' aftah." we silently crept along in this halo of light, during which time i took the opportunity to explain to my boatman that i was a yankee soldier, going to the fort to see my friends. the moment that fellow was assured of my true character his whole nature seemed changed, and, instead of the cowering, terrified slave, unwillingly doing the bidding of a master, he became a wide-awake, energetic friend, most anxious to do me all the service possible. i have forgotten the faithful boy's name, but i hope some day to revisit these scenes and shall look up his history. great scott! while we were talking in this way, we were startled by the sound of oars regularly beating in a muffled way, and which we knew to our horror were coming in our direction. could it be possible that we were to be baffled at last? the boy shifted his oars one by one into the boat, laid his head over the water for a moment, when he whispered, "dats a barge." i did not know what a "barge" was, while he explained that the sounds of rowing we were hearing came from a large, regular crew of disciplined boatmen in a big boat called a barge. i judged that we could not be far from pickens, but how could i tell whether the approaching boat contained our friends or our enemies. we all knew that the boats of both parties were engaged in prowling about every dark night. i had heard, while in the rebel camps, that it was the only diversion they had, and volunteers for each night's adventure were numerous. we kept "hugging the island" pretty tight, and, as the sounds grew closer and more distinct as they came nearer and nearer, i again prepared to jump overboard and swim for the island. as they came closer, i heard the suppressed voices, and was able to catch something like an order addressed to "coxswain," which was the only word i could make out--that was enough, however. i knew that a coxswain was only to be found in an armed boat, and, of course, i believed they must be from the navy yard. i slipped off my shoes and quietly dropped over the side of the boat into the water, being mighty careful, too, that the boat should be between me and the sounds, which were now quite distinct. the boatman laid down in the bottom of the boat while i held on by both hands and paddled or towed it toward shore. suddenly, as if a curtain had been raised, the barge, like a picture on the screen of a magic lantern, appeared and faded away, thank the lord, some distance out from us, and the crew were rowing silently but swiftly in the direction from which we had just come. i crawled back into the boat, my extremities dripping, and with reckless determination ordered the fellow to row right straight ahead. i was sick of this miserable agony of suspense and would end it, even if we ran into a man-of-war. the boatman expressed the opinion that the boat from which we had been concealing ourselves was from the fort, or belonged to the shipping outside, and i afterward learned that he was correct. when we got a little further down the island shore, voices were again heard, this time from the land. now i was sure we were all right, but i kept along quietly and smoothly until we were in sight of the old fort. i could now see objects moving about on the ground near the fort. we crept up still closer, and seeing a group of three persons standing together, a little ways back from the water, i rose to my feet and was about to hail them when we heard oars again from the outside. i sat down again and begged the poor fellow to row for his life, which he did with a hearty good will; we then passed, without a challenge, a sentinel on the beach, and actually rode right up to the guard on the pier of the fort, and myself called their attention to our little boat. a sergeant, who was within hearing, quickly ran up to the water's edge and roughly called a "halt," demanding to know our business; to which i replied: "i want to see lieutenant slemmer." we drew in shore; the sergeant took hold of the bow-string of our boat, and directed a soldier near by to call the officer of the guard, which was done in the most approved west point style. all the same, however, i had gotten through their lines without a challenge, and if i had been bent on torpedo or dynamite business, it would have been possible that night to have surprised the garrison. while waiting there, the old sergeant, who seemed to be very much incensed at my cheekiness, in running by his sentries, plied us with questions. pretty soon we were landed on the pier, and then i stood right under the gloomy shadow of the walls of fort pickens, talking with a young officer in the uniform of the united states service, and wearing the red sash of the officer of the day. this young officer, whose name i have forgotten, received me cordially, and ordered the sergeant to take good care of my boatman. my idea had been, all along, to communicate with lieutenant slemmer, whom we had heard of in connection with the occupation of the fort, and probably, also, because i had heard he was a pennsylvanian, i imagined i should feel more freedom with him. the officer of the day, to whom i expressed a desire to see lieutenant slemmer, said: "certainly, sir, certainly. will you please give me your name?" i merely said: "i am from pennsylvania, and am going back soon, and wanted to tell him some news." the officer swung himself around and called to another sergeant "to make this gentleman as comfortable as possible till i return," which was a polite way of saying "don't let that fellow get away till i get back." he disappeared inside the cave-like entrance to the fort. very soon two officers came out, to whom i was politely introduced as a young man from the other side to see lieutenant slemmer--the officer of the day explaining to me that lieutenant slemmer would be out just as soon as he could dress. it was late at night, and they had all been sleeping in peace and security inside the fort, while i was getting down the bay. during this interim it will be noted that not one of these officers had asked me a question. though their curiosity was no doubt excited, they were all gentlemanly enough to believe that my business was of a private character with lieutenant slemmer alone. it appears that the fort had been reinforced, probably about the time that the attempt was made to reinforce sumter, and at this time lieutenant slemmer was not in command at pickens. during the wait and while we were talking about the war prospects, i incidentally mentioned something about sumter's fall; this was news, sad news to the little group of officers, and for a moment seemed to stagger them. when one of them expressed a mild doubt, thinking my information was from rebel sources, the other said: "oh, yes, it's true; it couldn't be otherwise." when i gave them about the date, they all recalled an unusual commotion and firing of salutes by the rebels over the bay, which they did not understand at the time, and this news explained. it soon became known in the fort that they had a visitor with great news, and every blessed officer must have gotten out of bed to come outside and see me. i wondered at the time why i wasn't invited inside, though i could not have been more courteously treated than i was. it was quite a long time before lieutenant slemmer made an appearance, and when he approached me and was introduced by the officer of the day with "this is lieutenant slemmer," i looked up in surprise to see a tall, slim man, wearing glasses and looking for all the world like a presbyterian preacher. he was the most distant, dignified fellow in the lot, and my first impressions were not at all favorable. however, i briefly explained my business, and told him of the masked batteries and the proposed attack from the island. without a word of thanks, or even a reply, he turned and told one of the officers, who had stood aside to permit us to talk privately, to call captain clitz; and while he was doing this mr. slemmer stood by me with his arms folded--the only words he spoke were: "oh, that's it." soon captain clitz, who was a large, rather portly officer, approached, in company with my officer, and, without waiting for an introduction, he walked up to me with his hand out, smilingly saying, "ah, how do you do?" and, turning to slemmer, he said, "mr. slemmer, i'm very glad your friend called to see us." there was a long, earnest talk on the wharf that night, which was listened to and participated in by all the group of officers. lieutenant slemmer--after captain clitz's greeting--said: "this is captain clitz, the commander here now." and to him all my communications were directed. i was, of course, questioned and cross-questioned in regard to every point of detail which could be of interest to them, and i believe i was able to satisfy them on every point. i had understood, and believed it true, that general winfield scott had joined the rebels, and when i mentioned this among the other items of news, my young officer of the day spoke up quickly, saying: "oh, no, i can't believe that. general scott may be dead, but he is not a traitor." in comparison with lieutenant slemmer's dignified bearing, captain clitz's kindness and cordiality to me that night will ever be remembered with feelings of profound gratitude. while i was thus talking to the officers, the sergeant and his detail of men were busily engaged in questioning my colored boy, and from him they learned the story of our trip. the sergeant was brought to task roundly, by the officer of the day, for the failure of his sentinel up on the beach to halt our boat before getting so close to the pier. his explanation was that they saw us but supposed it was the boat belonging to the garrison. how long i should have been detained on that old pier, under the shadow of the walls of the fort, entertaining those officers, is uncertain, had i not had before me, like a spectre, the remembrance of the rebel sentries and guard-boats, that i must again run through to get back in safety. one of the officers very kindly proposed that they would man one of their boats and convey us as far up the beach as they could go, and thereby relieve us of the tiresome pull on the oars. while this was being arranged, i gave to lieutenant slemmer a more detailed account of the honors that were being paid to him in the north, in connection with major anderson, for his bravery in saving pickens. and i also told him about the attentions which were being showered upon his wife, who, it seems, had been permitted to pass through the rebel lines to her home in the north soon after his moving into fort pickens. to mrs. slemmer, it seems, was due some of the credit and glory of this movement. after receiving from captain clitz his hearty acknowledgment, and a farewell shake-hands from all the officers, i got aboard the well-manned barge for a return voyage, our little boat being towed in the rear. getting into the boat seemed to bring to mind the shipping outside, and i incidentally asked if any of their boats might be going to mobile soon, thinking that would save me the dangerous jaunt over the swamps. i had no fears but that i should land all right at pensacola, but i did feel some apprehension about my boy being able to avert the questions that i knew he would be asked on his return. captain clitz spoke up from the end of the pier, "there are no boats likely to go to mobile, but one of the transports will return to new york soon; would you prefer to go that way?" after a little explanation, it was settled that i should take the ship home, and my colored boy went back alone--at that time they were not taking care of contrabands--and i was rowed out to the shipping, and that night slept sweetly in a hammock on board captain porter's ship, the powhattan. chapter v. rebel newspapers--on admiral porter's ship. while numerous newspaper attacks were being printed in the chivalrous press of the south concerning a defenseless boy who had succeeded, unaided and alone, in thwarting their plans to compel the surrender of fort pickens, i, in blissful ignorance of it all, was quietly experiencing the daily routine life aboard the blockading war ship, which was anchored in full view of the rebel batteries through which i had been scouting but a few days previously. i was, of course, something new and fresh on board the ship, and the way those chaps went for me was peculiar. did you ever try to get into a hammock? i mean a _real_ hammock--one of those made out of canvas cloth, which, rolled up--or slung, i think they call it--looks like a big pudding. i was put in charge of one of the petty officers, as they call them aboard a ship, who correspond to the non-commissioned officers of the army. my particular guardian was, i believe, the ship-chandler, an old salt who had charge of a little den of a room, somewhere between decks, which was crammed full of lamps or candles. they were crowded with men and officers aboard the powhattan at that time, so i had to turn in with this mess. i was given a hammock--a nice, clean lot of bedding was bundled up inside; it had a number painted on it, to which my attention was carefully called; then i was shown the corresponding number on deck where that particular hammock fitted in like a chink in a log-house, and where, i was told, it had to be placed at a certain "bell," or when the boatswain would sing out a certain call. when the time came to go for the hammocks the first night, i followed my leader, shouldered the bag, and marched down in line with the rest. i found afterward the most difficult thing to learn about the navy is to get _into_ a hammock, stretched above your head, and the next difficult thing is to stay in it, while the third trouble is to get out of it without lighting on your head. my old guardian was busy somewhere with his lights, and when the signal came to turn in, every man of that immense crowd seemed to disappear, like so many prairie dogs into their holes, leaving me standing alone on the deck under my hammock. then the petty officer, in his deep, bass voice, said something to me about clearing that deck. i made a jump for the thing, and hung half way across it, as if i were in a swing, able to get neither one way or the other--the hammock would move every time i'd move. lots of bare heads were sticking out over the hammocks, offering advice of all sorts; one chap proposed to give me a leg, which i gratefully accepted, when he lifted me so quickly that i toppled over the other side of the hammock on to the floor, where i lay saying my evening prayers, while the whole lot of crows in the roosts above laughed at my predicament. the show was beginning to create so much noise down below that the fellow with the big voice was compelled to interfere and put a stop to it, which he did by ordering one of the men to hold my horse while i got aboard. he kindly explained to me the _modus operandi_ of getting into a slung hammock, which was, as we used to say in tactics, in one time and three motions; first, grab the thing in a certain way with two hands, put one foot in first, and then deftly lift the body up and drop in; once there, the difficulty was not over, as it required some practice to keep balanced while asleep, especially to a landsman like myself. i was cautioned to part my hair in the middle, and lie there as stiff as a corpse. it was great fun for the sailors of that mess. in the morning, after a fair night's rest, i was awakened by the man-of-war's reveille, and literally tumbled out of the hammock, landing on all fours on deck, for the thing was as hard to get out of as it was to get into. but now the sailors, who had so much fun at my expense the night before, showed the greatest kindness and did what they could to teach me to strap or lash it up, and i was ready to take up my bed and walk with the rest of them, and stored it away while it did not yet seem to be daylight. i was invited to the best mess for breakfast, which i was able to enjoy very much, and i spent the greater portion of the day on the big wheel-house of the ship, pointing out to the officers the location of the different batteries in the rebel line. the officers were quite courteous and kind, and, as may be imagined, listened with the greatest eagerness to the news which i was able to give them. the new york _herald_, which was the only thing in the shape of "papers" that i had brought with me, was eagerly read, the officers almost quarreling for its possession. it was finally settled by their cutting it up and dividing the pieces around. the powhattan was one of the largest vessels of the old-fashioned side-wheel class, and at that time was literally bristling with her armour, having been hurriedly fitted out at brooklyn navy yard at about the same time the other vessels sailed to the intended relief of sumter. an old salt gave me his account of their trip out, which, as nearly as i can recollect, was something like this: "we had just returned from a cruise, ye know, to china, and wanted to stay home a bit, because the engineer board condemned one of our boilers as dangerous, so, of course, no one aboard thought of going to sea again in her. well, by thunder, one night they sent a draft of men aboard, and the next morning we were steaming out somewhere--we all thought to some other yard. "the officers had what they called sealed orders, not to be opened till we were outside, don't you know. that black-whiskered chap"--pointing with his thumb toward captain porter's cabin--"was aboard, and we all thought he was our sky pilot, as he was dressed just like a parson or chaplain; but when we got out, and the orders were opened, he had changed his black duds, and, by gad, he took us in tow, just like a pirate king, and fetched us all down to this blasted hole to die of yaller jack. "on the voyage down, every man of us was worked to death; day and night, all hands were going, unpacking boxes of arms that had been smuggled aboard, and them brass things you see back of the purser's 'cow-house'"--as he called the wheel-house--"we boxed up like dead men in coffins. well, some of the men swore we were turned pirates; and a lot more of us was dead sure we were going out as a privateer for jeff davis. you see the sealed orders was to captain porter, and he had just come aboard at night, and they say he came right over from washington city that same day, and, of course, he knew what was up, but no one else did. "we found out, though, after that. the plan for us was to run down and go right straight ahead into the harbor, past the fort and them rebel batteries. if we was inside once, we could drive them off and get the navy yard, you know, and they couldn't get onto the island, don't you know. well, when we got near pensacola, what did they do but begin to burn some soft english coal, what was stored aboard, so's to make a black smoke, don't you see, and make them rebels believe we were an englishman going to pensacola. well, porter was on hand, you bet, and every other fellow was on hand, too, and we were going to run right straight by the derned batteries, without stopping or showing our colors; but the 'old man,' as we termed the admiral, or senior officer alden, who had preceded us, as soon as we came up signaled to drop anchor; and the lord only knows how long we will stay, if that condemned boiler don't bust. "the old black-whiskered parson was mad, because he didn't get to go ahead, and he mopes in his den all the time, just like a bear with a sore head, cross at us all, as if we was to blame." rear-admiral david d. porter was, at that time, ranking as a lieutenant in the navy, though he had been selected specially by mr. lincoln to command the powhattan on this relief expedition. as i saw him daily aboard his ship, he appeared, to my eyes, to be a hearty, blustering, handsome naval officer, in the prime of life, wearing a full, black beard, which, with his sharp eyes and commanding presence, impressed me with the idea that the old tar had suggested, as being a model pirate chief. those who have not been aboard a man-of-war while in commission and engaged in actual sea service, and have formed their impressions from casual visits to a ship in port, would scarcely realize the changed condition of affairs. the captain is a little king, with absolute power, and lives in great style, all by himself, in his beautiful den of a cabin, at the extreme aft-end of the ship. he _never_ comes forward, i believe, and walks only on one side of the deck. i think he doesn't permit anyone to approach his highness, except through the regular channels. he may be a good fellow ashore and will eat and drink with you at the hotel bars, like any ordinary bit of humanity; but dear me, aboard his ship he is a holy terror. not being an enlisted man myself, and only a sort of a refugee aboard ship, wholly unacquainted with the new order of things, i was constantly doing something or other that interfered with the rules, and, as a consequence, was an object of disgust to the minor officers and, i suspect, a source of amusement to a great many others. naval officers, i understand, never like to have a civilian aboard their ships, probably because they are not amenable to the strict discipline, and another reason is, that a common landsman does not pay that homage and respect to their rank that is exacted of the seaman. as i was promenading up and down the deck the first morning, an officer, whom i was told was lieutenant perry, the executive officer, sent one of the smartly-dressed marines to me, who approached pleasantly and said: "the executive officer directs that you will please walk on the port side of the deck." well, i looked at my feet, then at the grinning marine, and asked him what was the matter. i didn't know there was such a thing as a port side of a deck; but he explained that the one little place where i had been taking my morning air was reserved exclusively for the captain of the ship. the captain sent his orderly to escort me to his presence in his cabin; the marine was, of course, all fixed up with his natty uniform, white-crossed belts, and little sword, and as we approached the lion's den, he knocked as if he were afraid somebody might hear him, and when a gruff voice within sang out "come!" he stiffened up as if he had heard an order to "present"; then swinging open the door, swung around briskly and saluted; and before he could say his little speech, the captain spoke up: "that will do, orderly," when he went through the same motions as when we entered, and left me alone with the bear. the captain astonished me by reaching for my hand, and, gently pushing me over to a huge sofa, sat down beside me, and began to talk in a most cordial manner about my adventure at montgomery and pensacola, which lasted quite a little while, and ended with an invitation to take something, which i was forced to decline. my interview with the captain seemed to have a wonderful influence not only on the minds, but over the actions as well, of the petty officers and sailors, who had been guying me so mercilessly every hour of my stay among them. i was at once treated with the utmost consideration by everybody on board, and it appeared to me that every old salt, who wore a piping whistle at the end of a white cord about his neck, was anxious to talk with me in confidence. to excite the curiosity of a lot of old sailors aboard ship is like bringing a swarm of mosquitoes about one's head; and the way i was pestered with questions and cross-questions, as well as all sorts of surmises and hints, would distract any one, excepting, perhaps, the well-seasoned and tanned hides of their own kind. captain porter is the only man on board the ship to whom i told my story, though questioned in a gentlemanly manner by the other officers. i was able to hold and keep my own counsel from them all. i was to them a refugee, and that was all the satisfaction any of them got from me, except that in a general way i was free to tell anybody all i knew about the rebel batteries and forces; but why i had gone to pickens was explained only to captain porter, who believed my story, from the interview with secretary of war cameron down to getting aboard his ship. though i had nothing whatever to show as proof, having brought with me to the ship only the rather scanty clothing i wore, having almost stripped myself in anticipation of a swim for life while crossing the bay. right here i may mention that my family preserves with the greatest care a sailor shirt, on which is an elaborately embroidered star in colors, in each corner of the broad silk collar, also a pair of white duck sailor trousers. these useful as well as beautiful articles were presented to me by some of the men aboard ship, for which present, i have often thought since, i must have been indebted to captain porter's influence, as the articles are of such value that the old fellow who stowed them in my hammock would scarcely have parted with them without some remuneration. the needlework on these articles was all done aboard ship by the stiffened and well-hardened fingers of an old sailor, and i do not exaggerate in saying, for rare and delicate workmanship, they are not excelled by anything i have seen in the same line since. the monotony of life aboard ship was relieved somewhat by the every-day drill of the marines, under command of lieutenant broome, whose name i remember distinctly, as being associated in my mind with "a new broom," he always looked so sleek and nice in his fresh uniform. the sailors were also drilled at the big guns, fore and aft, which they would pull and haul about for hours at a time under the commands of some officer. one day captain porter astonished the rebels, as well as our own officers, by a mock naval battle. at a certain hour and upon a given signal, all hands were called to quarters unexpectedly, captain porter appearing on the bridge with an immense big brass trumpet in his hands, through which he bellowed out something which everybody but me seemed to understand. men went up the rigging like a lot of monkeys in trees; others yanked out the big cutlasses. at the command, "repel boarders!" they would climb up the sides of the ship and cut and slash their invisible enemies at a dreadful rate. then suddenly an order came to load the guns; and in an instant almost, men whom i had not seen popped up out of the holds and handed to others, who had evidently been expecting them, cartridges, which were rammed into the big mouths of the cannons; then all stood still as death--but for an instant only--when the brass trumpet belched out something about a "broadside," and--great scott! it makes me tremble while i write about it--every gun on that big ship, great and small, went off at the same time, and almost lifted the ship out of the water. they kept firing and loading in this way for quite a little while, captain porter, during this time, standing quietly and unconcernedly on the bridge, with his watch in one hand and the trumpet in the other. when he was ready, another order was fired through his telephone, and the firing ceased as suddenly as it had begun. during all this hubbub, when every fellow had a place to go and stay, i was jumping around from one place to another, like a hen on a hot griddle, trying to find some spot where i might not be in anybody's way. when the firing ceased, the ship was rolling about and, as we were encompassed by the smoke, it seemed as if we were sailing in a cloud in mid air. captain porter, from his position on the bridge, began at once to catechize the different officers, precisely as a school-master would a class, asking each in turn, as he pointed to him: "how many rounds, mr. broome?" and if the answer was not satisfactory, an explanation was demanded. i remember that the assistant engineer's position was at the little brass pieces, elevated abaft the wheel-house, and their work was not at all satisfactory to captain porter, who did not hesitate to so express himself, much to the disgust of the engineers and the amusement of the other officers. when the cloud of smoke lifted and we could see over the water, we found all the other ships of the squadron watching us, while the ramparts of fort pickens was to be seen crowded with men, no doubt wondering what was up. they, no doubt, supposed the ship's magazine was afire. the rebel batteries were black with men, who imagined, of course, that the ship was fighting some of their own craft. it appeared afterward that this trick of captain porter's came very near bringing on a conflict with the rebs, as they prepared to open their batteries on the fort. if the drill had continued a little longer it would have resulted in bringing about a genuine fight. perhaps this is what captain porter desired. there was some influence that fretted him very much at the time, which i have never heard explained. it was well known that he was most eager for the fight to begin. early one bright morning our lookout spluttered out something, to which the officer on deck at the time--who was lieutenant queen, at present commandant at the washington navy yard, and to whom i was talking at that instant--startled me by singing in my ear: "where away?" the fellow above said something about two points on our port bow. mr. queen left me abruptly to report to the captain, who soon appeared on deck. i climbed up to a good place from which to look out, and gazed in the direction in which mr. queen and the captain were pointing, but failed to see anything myself. orders were issued to prepare a little boat that was attached to the powhattan, as a sort of dispatch boat, and an officer, whose name was brown--a fat, jolly young man whom captain porter seemed to think highly of--was put in charge. this little craft hoisted sail and went dancing about on the water like a sea-bird. by this time two steamers were in sight, approaching us. who they were and what they were after was just what everybody wanted to know; the old sailors, who are always croakers, had any quantity of ridiculous stories about their errand and our rapidly approaching fate. signals went up on fort pickens, and i discovered, _first_, that signals were being made from the rebel batteries, in rear of their forts, and reported the fact, the circumstance awaking in captain porter a lively interest. tho little sea-bird, with mr. brown, went out toward the approaching ships, as if to meet them; orders were given by somebody, i suppose, but i failed to hear them, to weigh anchor, which was quietly done; then, instead of the ships halting to communicate with mr. brown's signals, they went nearer to the rebel batteries, while the black smoke poured out of the chimneys, and the paddle-wheels whirled around. all at once i jumped two feet high, because a gun behind me went off. still the wheels went round and round, and the water was foaming in their wake. all hands and eyes were on the ship in the lead, when boom went another gun; and there is where i saw the first hostile gun fired. there was a splash in the water some distance this side of the ship, but in her front, then another splash on the same line further on; this was the first shot across her bow, and it had the immediate effect of stopping those paddle-wheels as suddenly as if she had been hit in the belly. she "hove too"--there was a long confab with the captain of the boat, which turned out to be ships from mobile bound to pensacola with supplies--appealed from porter to the old admiral, and the end of it all was, the two boats loaded with supplies and probably ammunition, were not permitted to go on past the fort inside the bay to pensacola, as captain porter decidedly protested against it, and they were escorted back to mobile. they were not war ships, and at that time some of our officers had peculiar ideas of the rights of rebels: as, for instance, the refusal to allow my colored boy, friday, to remain at the fort because he was property, etc. in our mess i think there were four of as jolly, good-hearted tars as may be found in any navy, who vied with each other in their efforts to make my stay with them as comfortable as possible. i presume my popularity was increased a little bit, from the fact that i really couldn't swallow the gill of grog, nor use tobacco, that was issued to every one who wanted it, and my portion was scrupulously drawn and assigned to our mess. i was here first introduced to sea biscuit, which you know is the naval term of s. o. b. every old soldier will know the meaning of those cabalistic letters. one fellow, who was so droll that he kept the mess in a roar all the time, insisted that some of the sea biscuit then being issued by the commissary had been left over from the revolutionary war. they were really as hard as a board; it was often as good as a show to watch the antics of jack trying to weld them, like iron, at the galley range, or to put them under the rollers of the big cannon for a chuck stone. the pickled pork he declared was alive with worms, and insisted upon taking me up the main mast, to prove to me that great chunks of it were able to crawl up the polished mast to the fore-top. while eating our grub (as they call it), when the cook had prepared a particularly nice dish of scouce (i think that's the way it's spelled), jack would pretend to be so hungry that he and another chum would get on all fours and squeal for all the world like a lot of hogs in a pen. every day there would be signals exchanged between our ship and the others, or with fort pickens, and occasionally boats from the other vessels would come to our side bringing officers to visit our officers. for some days my daily life was spent in this way. i began to imagine, from some of the yarns that i was compelled to overhear from the sailors at night, that something was going wrong with me; nothing had been intimated to me directly by any of the officers, who were uniformly courteous, excepting, perhaps, lieutenant perry, the executive officer who had general charge of everything. on another occasion he had picked me up sharply for daring to handle a marine glass that i saw on the bridge one day and elevated toward the rebels. the sailors, who, of course went with the boats to the fort as oarsmen, must have brought back some exaggerated stories about me, judging from their actions and talk. if any of those who may read my story have ever been compelled to listen to old sailors' or old soldiers' stories and croakings, they will be able to sympathize with me in my misery. i can think of no comparison that will approach so near my conception of the situation as that of being caged in an insane asylum with a crowd of cranky old lunatics, and being compelled to hear all they have to say without being able to escape from the horror. this lieutenant perry was, i believe, a nephew of commodore perry, of lake erie fame, and perhaps a very capable officer, though i do not recall having heard his name during the war, which followed so closely. he was evidently prejudiced against me from the first day, probably because i declined to be interviewed by him. one day i was surprised by having him call me aside and commencing a conversation about the war, during which i expressed some decided opinions about the earnestness and sincerity of the rebels. and i probably gave vent to my disgust at the permitting my colored boy to be sent back to slavery and possibly punishment. a short time after this i was invited to the captain's cabin. on entering, i found mr. perry and the captain in consultation. after a pleasant greeting, captain porter said: "we have just learned that the rebels have a lot of big guns at montgomery which they are to send to pensacola." when he got this far, i interrupted him to say, "that is hardly correct, as i had been in montgomery, and they had no guns of any kind there." perry spoke up and said they meant mobile. porter continued, smilingly: "yes, it's mobile, of course. well, we want to spike those guns right there." not for a moment thinking they were putting up a job on me, i looked anxiously in porter's face for a clue to his meaning, in thus talking to me. looking me squarely in the eye, he said: "now the government pays handsomely for this service," patting his pants pockets to make some keys rattle. still i did not like the appearance of things, and perhaps too abruptly interrupted to say: "yes, i know; but the rebels aren't going to let any one do that." then ensued a long confab, in which lieutenant perry did most of the talking. captain porter finally said to me, with a peculiar look: "now i have some little file-shaped things, just made for that purpose; all a man has to do is to quietly drop one of these into the vent, and they don't even know it's there, till they want to fire the gun." this looked plausible, and i began to feel as if i'd like to try that simple little trick, but i told him candidly that i couldn't undertake it; that they would surely hang me, if caught; and that it wouldn't be well for me to run the risk just then. "oh," says perry, "we will man a boat and land you on the beach ten miles from pensacola." "yes," spoke up captain porter, "we will put you ashore any place you want to go." without a moment's thought, except a desire to do any service for my country, i said to them, "all right, i'll go." i knew nothing whatever at this time of the demands that were being made by the rebel authorities upon the fort to have me surrendered on a civil process, and on the same general principles that had induced the fort officers to return the colored boy, was being brought to bear in my case. it seems the officers of the fort got rid of the knotty point by informing the rebel flag-of-truce boat that i was out of their control, and in the hands of the naval authorities. application had been made to the flag-ship of the squadron, that being the proper headquarters, but it seems that in some way captain porter's instructions were direct and more recent than had been received by the admiral, whose name, if i remember aright, was adams or alden; but of this i am not positive. however, there was some sort of a conflict of authority between porter and the admiral, and not altogether a cordial feeling between them, as there were no visits or courtesies being exchanged between them, as was customary in such situations. i had myself seen from the deck of the powhattan a little tug-boat bobbing out to the admiral's ship, but had no idea, of course, that i was being the subject of negotiations, which were being carried on by the opposing forces through their flags-of-truce. the admiral, who had desired the ships from mobile to pass in unmolested, was quite indifferent to my fate, and did not deign to communicate with mr. porter or myself. no doubt if i had been aboard his ship instead of admiral porter's, the true story of this episode would never have been written; as i should have been surrendered, as a matter of _courtesy_ to the rebels, who would have further extended the courtesy--at the end of a rope. chapter vi. admiral porter saves the boy's life--interview with the rebel flag-of-truce officers, who claim him for a victim--scenes on board a man-of-war--return home by sea--reception in new york--telegraph acquaintances--new york papers record the adventure in full page. it will be seen that the admiral was willing that i should be surrendered, and my life hung for several days in a balance, which, thank god, was held by captain porter. perry, knowing of these negotiations, was himself convinced that i was a rebel spy, whom they wanted to get back, and had kept a close watch on my actions; and, i presume, had set half the ship's crew to pick me up on any little circumstance which would serve to confirm his suspicions that i was in the service of the rebellion. one day i was sitting on the "back stairs," or on the platform of the gangway aft the wheel-house, and, as the vessel had swung round, i could, from my location, see right over the water to the rebel lines. my position happened to be somewhat secluded, and i had in my hands a scrap of an old new york _ledger_, that one of the tars had loaned me. i saw that i was being watched by perry, who was in quiet consultation with the officer of the deck. a marine with a loaded musket had been ordered to look sharp that i did not fly over to the rebs, i suppose. while in this situation the thought burst upon me that i was a prisoner, suspected by my own friends of being a spy in their camp. the interview that i had had in the cabin, with captain porter and lieutenant perry, the proposed trip to mobile, with a dozen other little incidents, rushed through my brain at once, but i was comforted by the thought that the war department would acknowledge my services. after this feeling had passed away from my mind to some extent, i recalled with bitterness some of lieutenant perry's actions and talks with me. carelessly glancing around to see that he was still on deck, i wrote on the margin of that old paper some words that expressed, in language more emphatic than politic, the opinion i entertained of a certain officer, and whose conduct i should take care would be reported to the ears of the navy department. before i had finished, a hand was laid on my shoulder; another reached down and snatched the paper from my hand; the young officer, whom i had seen talking to perry but a few moments previously, said: "ah, sketching, are you?" as he took the paper and handed it to mr. perry, who was at his back, and he read with a flushed face the ugly comments on his brutality to a boy prisoner, who had done more for his country in one night than he would accomplish in his life-time. [illustration: "ah! sketching, are you?"] for a boy, this was a pretty sharp trick, if it were not very discreet. mr. perry roughly said, as i put my hands in my pockets and looked at him defiantly: "take your hands out of your pockets when you talk to an officer, damn you!" "go forward, sir!" "don't you come aft again!" mr. perry, as the executive officer, had the control and management of almost every detail aboard ship; and, of course, after his ridiculous failure to catch me mapping, or sketching, which had become known all over the ship, he entertained for me more positive and open dislike than ever, so that i was henceforth, practically, his prisoner. i had enjoyed full liberty to go about everywhere as i pleased, heretofore, and lounged or lay about in the warm sun most of the time up by the wheel-house; but now i understood that, by his arbitrary orders, i was not to be allowed to go aft; which i interpreted to mean confinement to the forecastle. this was not so pleasant for me, as i could have no communication with the officers, and lost the opportunity of seeing the marine drill, which was a daily performance, that seemed to relieve the monotony of our every-day life, which was indeed becoming quite tiresome to me. however, i consoled myself with the reflection that i should soon be able to get away to my home in the north. there had been a transport in the squadron unloading supplies, which i had been given to understand would take me off on her return to new york. i watched with eager interest the unloading of this transport, which had to be tediously and drudgingly performed by the use of lighters and pulleys over the ship's side;--the rebs objected, you know, to our forces using the fort's piers, which was within range of their guns, though it will be recalled that our admiral did not prevent their ships going into the harbor to unload their supplies. i think it must have been some of billy wilson's zouaves, or their supplies, that were being unloaded. you will remember that about this time that regiment of the roughs and toughs of new york city had been sent down there, where they were permitted to encamp on the island, between the fires of the two forces; being natural enemies of both, communication with them was necessarily limited. early one morning, one of the petty officers shook me out of the hammock, saying: "bundle up quickly, to go aboard the transport." if i didn't get out of the hammock that morning very gracefully, it was because it was done suddenly. the man who called me stood by, as he said, to help me get ready, as the ship was to sail at daylight. i had no bag for my luggage, which consisted only of the gifts of the fine sailor suit, mentioned heretofore, and what i wore on my person, so we were not long in getting ready. hurrying up on deck, i went to the gangway aft, where the little gig, as they call the little boat, was bobbing up and down on the swell, as the waves beat against the ship's side. the sailor standing in the bow, holding on to the steps, or rope balustrade, helped me to make the little jump into the boat, which i felt was dancing with delight because it was to take me off that old ship. as i passed to the rear seat, each old tar had a kind word of good-by for me, and i believe that i promised every one of them to go and see their friends and sweethearts when i should get home. we waited awhile for an officer who was getting the captain's mail ready. soon lieutenant queen came down the steps and scrambled to a seat beside me, saying, pleasantly: "well, my boy, i wish i were going with you this morning." he gave the order to let go and soon we were bouncing over the water toward the transport, which was smoking and hissing away at a great rate some distance from our ship but nearer the shore. when we pulled alongside i braced myself for the climb up her side, when lieutenant queen should give the signal. he had gone aboard ahead and delayed sometime; presently he appeared at the ship's side and began to descend to our boat again; i thought his manner a little queer, as i watched him with astonishment; once in the boat, he was about to give the order to pull off, when the captain of the transport hailed him and said: "i'm sorry, but don't you forget to tell porter it's not my fault." after a little further talk in an undertone, mr. queen told the coxswain to go ahead, and then turning to me said: "there's some mistake, they say they can't take you, they have no room." my feelings may be imagined--they can not be described. i was so disappointed that i was literally struck dumb, and could not speak a word on our return to the ship, and was led aboard by the good-hearted old sailors as if i had just been rescued from a watery grave. going to our ship's side, i looked over the water in the early grey of the morning and saw the transport, on which i had built my every hope of home, slowly but surely steaming away toward home, and i still on the ship _and a prisoner_. how long i stood there i do not know; probably until the fast-sailing transport had almost gotten out of my dimmed sight. i cried, of course i did, like a big baby, and on board a man-of-war, too; and being too proud to show it, i kept my face resolutely set toward the receding ship that was going home without me. i didn't even have such a thing as a handkerchief to dry those tears, bitter tears, which _would_ run down my cheeks and drop into the sea below me. mr. queen, who had reported his trip to captain porter, hunted me up to say that "the captain would see that i was taken care of and sent home all right." speaking in his kindly, sympathetic manner, seemed to renew my emotion, and turning my wet cheeks to him i said, i fear somewhat harshly, "i'll never again undertake anything that would get me aboard a naval officer's ship." he laughed good-naturedly, while he told me of his many disappointments in not getting home from foreign countries, as he had planned, while in the naval service. he said also that captain porter was mad about it, because some one seemed determined to interfere with everything or anything he wanted to accomplish, but he would fix me all right next time, and, pointing to another transport, he said: "you will go on that ship in a few days." some of the talks and hints which the old sailors had been firing at me for days about a rebel spy, sent aboard to fire their magazine, or to signal to the rebels any attempt to run inside, and which i had taken at the time as sailors' yarns, were now vividly recalled to my mind. these things, coupled with the recent interview between porter, perry and myself, in which i had been entrapped into an agreement to return through their lines to spike some guns, all came upon me with a sickening sensation. i had been led by the talk of perry, against my own judgment, and doubting the feasibility of his plans, to agree that i should put ashore alone, in a dismal swamp in florida, ten miles from everything living but alligators and snakes, in the dark of midnight, to find my way across to mobile to spike some guns. because i was willing to _do anything_ for the benefit of the union cause, not having a single thought of fear or danger to myself, this disposition had been twisted and tortured by mr. perry, a united states officer, into a virtual acknowledgment on my part that i was a rebel and was anxious to return to their camps. i do not believe that captain porter agreed with perry in this conclusion. if the object of these rebels in their negotiation was to throw discredit on my reports of their operations and plans--which they knew i could correctly give--they succeeded only in the sense that i was personally discredited. the officers at the fort were grateful and glad to receive my information. i know they were benefited by and acted upon it; but the poor spy who enabled them to save their fort, or at least prevent disaster, was ignored. the officers, no doubt, took great credit to themselves in their official reports. i may be allowed to say right here that the spy's work, though often most dangerous and important, is always thankless. that was my experience at the outset of my career, but (unfortunately for me perhaps) did not deter me from continuing in the same service. i made up my mind to one thing, however; i stuck to it, and i was never caught on board a man-of-war again, but confined my operations to solid ground, where i could have more room and freedom, and be my own executive officer. the next day on board the ship was sunday, and an eventful one to me. as is customary aboard a man-of-war, it was inspection day. all soldiers and sailors know what a sunday inspection is, so i need not describe it. at a certain hour i was invited aft, with the drove of a crew--to "meetin'," as the sailor said. all hands were congregated about the deck according to a drill, which all understood, at a certain moment the officer of the deck stepped to the captain's door and, after saluting in the proper manner, invited the parson to the pulpit. captain porter in full regimentals marched out in grand style, taking up his position, and gravely opened a book from which he read some prayers as effectively as a clergyman, after which there were orders read, and a dismissal for a general holiday--relief from drill and routine work for the balance of the day. this was the first time i had been permitted to look at the captain since my disappointment, and i most eagerly scanned his face for some indication of his feeling toward me; once or twice i caught his eye, but i found little comfort there. he was a fierce-looking fellow, and particularly so when fixed up in his sunday toggery. the other ships of the squadron, as well as the fort and the rebels, seemed to be putting on their best attire and were feeling comfortable in their sunday dress. inside the harbor, the rebels seemed to be enjoying sunday excursions with their little boats; the officers on the ships and the fort were exchanging friendly visits. i had, as a special sunday privilege, i suppose, been told to resume the freedom of the ship as at first, and was lounging in my haunt above, where i could see all about us. along some time in the afternoon i noticed a little steam-tug steam out past fort pickens, puffing and dancing along in the direction of the admiral's flag-ship. the striking peculiarity about the little boat was, that at her bow she floated a white flag, not larger than a bathing towel, while on the rear staff were flaunted the rebel colors. my curiosity having been greatly excited by the sailors' talks of flags-of-truce to the fort, in which i was in some unknown way connected by them, i watched with intense interest every movement this little craft made; she came on, dancing along between the shore and the squadron until the flag-ship was almost abreast of her, then suddenly turning, the fluttering white flag pointed directly to the admiral's ship, and was lost to my sight behind her great sides. others on board were watching this also, and i could see that the glances of the men would turn significantly from the little truce boat to me. mr. queen had gone off visiting, but mr. perry was on hand, sullen and disagreeable. they stopped so long aboard the admiral's ship that one of the younger officers ventured to say to me in a side whisper, feeling perhaps that i needed some comfort: "oh, they are just over for a sunday visit to the admiral," and then walked briskly away from me as if afraid of being seen by perry talking to the rebel spy. he had scarcely turned away from me when, on looking in the direction of the flag-ship, i saw the white flag come bobbing out from under the stern of the big ship. were they going back to their rebel camps? _no!_ they were bearing straight down on us, while they were waving adieus to the officers, who were looking over the bulwarks of the ship they had just quitted. _great god!_ my heart sank within me at the thought that they were after me again, and the old admiral had sent them to captain porter, with orders to give me up. i reckon i turned pale. i know that i felt that i would die in the water beneath me before i would return with them to the rebel lines. i was a boy of strong impulse, and, if i must say it myself, i was not afraid of death; but i determined in the instant i stood there watching that boat come toward us so saucily that i would die rather than return with them. the slightest provocation at that time would have made me leap overboard. luckily for me, the young officer who had spoken to me but a few moments previously, ran rapidly up the few steps and called me quickly to him, saying: "captain wants you in his cabin, right away." i nervously followed him, and as he opened the cabin door i stepped inside and saw captain porter in the act of buckling on his sword belt; his face was strangely flushed, and, as he adjusted his sword into its proper position at his side, and buttoned up his coat, turned sharply on me, saying, as he shook his head significantly: "young fellow, that boat is coming after you; do you know that?" i don't know just what i did reply, i was so stunned for a moment, but the gallant, glorious old loyal son of the navy put the answer into my head. "you claim our protection, don't you." "yes, i do. i'll go overboard captain, but i'll not return to the rebel lines." "you don't need to. you have claimed my protection; you are a boy away from home and among enemies; you are in my charge." i tried to thank him, but he stopped me abruptly, saying: "never mind; you claim our protection, and, by god, you shall have it." with this he glared out of his little window like a wild beast in a cage, and i backed out of his presence with a heart overflowing with thankfulness and gratitude, rejoiced that i had found one officer who would use his authority to protect american citizens; who sought the good of the country and the protection of our flag. i went back to my perch just in time to see the white flag run under our bow, and, looking down over the ship's side, i could see the tug was filled with rebel officers. the officer of the deck received them courteously, and, after reporting to mr. perry, they were invited aboard. mr. perry was most affable and pleasant with them, as were, in fact, all the officers, and the rebels themselves seemed to be as jolly as if they were out for a frolic. there was nothing in their manner or bearing toward each other that would lead anyone to infer there was any prospect of a war. after the preliminary courtesies had been exchanged, a couple of them went into the captain's cabin; what occurred there i never learned; the interview, however, was a mighty short one; the rebel emissaries came out and without any further parley got aboard their flag-of-truce boat and steered for their sand-banks. i have a recollection of reading in our school histories an account of one of our naval officers, while in an austrian port, giving some such protection to a naturalized citizen of the united states, and great credit attached to this act; perhaps, i am prejudiced, but i doubt very much if that officer did as grand and heroic an act as that of captain porter in protecting a boy from the shabby, cowardly attempt of traitors in arms against his flag, aided by the more contemptible conduct of our own officers who were his superiors. it required the nerve which subsequent events showed captain porter to possess, and his name and deeds are everywhere recognized while that of his superior, the admiral, has been lost. during the ten days i was anchored off fort pickens on board the man-of-war powhattan my enforced sojourn may be likened to that of a "fish out of water." in compelling an ignorant slave boatman to row me over the bay in the cover of the night to fort pickens with this valuable information, i was, according to law, as it was interpreted technically, guilty of a threat or attempt to kill. this, with the fact that the slave, like the boat and oar, was "property," added robbery to the indictment prepared against me. but as the slave had been so heartlessly and almost cruelly sent back to his little boat, there was in fact no robbery, and all that could have been claimed was the intention or intent to kill, etc. i did not understand then, and have not since been able to learn, sufficient law to properly satisfy myself on this question, but the facts are as has been stated here. on his return to the rebels, the colored boy, no doubt, gave these officials an exaggerated story of his experience with the bold highwayman, or freebooter, in his boat on the bay, thinking in this way to obtain for himself some immunity from the terrible punishment that awaited all slaves who were caught out at night, which would be more especially severe at such a time and under such circumstances as had just happened to him. the rebel officers, of course, when they heard the dreadful story from the lips of my boatman, at once began looking up the details of the recent visit of the texan among them, and readily gathered sufficient data from my week's companionship and intercourse in their midst to justify the conviction that i was a dangerous fellow, and had gone over to the yankees, knowing their hand and game too well. it is probable that the object of the flags-of-truce was, primarily, to create in the minds of our officers an impression that i was unworthy and undeserving of belief. before leaving washington i had, while in consultation with an official of the war department, been given to understand that, as a matter of policy, it would be more to my credit to obtain information and report directly to the war department; and i was cautioned _not to acknowledge to any person_--friend or foe--that i was on a secret errand. i had not, during my brief stay at the fort, mentioned to any of the officers the fact that i was visiting in the service of the war department, and had only informed captain porter of my hasty interview with the secretary, admitting to him that the present service was purely voluntary, but that i expected to be regularly engaged on my return home. i had no papers of any kind in my possession, and even if i had brought along with me the secretary of war's endorsement on my application, no person would have been able to have read the secretary's peculiar chirography. some of our officers, in april, , were inclined to accept the rebels' interpretation of the laws, and those at pickens were, i fear, disposed, as a matter of mere courtesy to surrender on their demand my person a victim of their unholy vengeance. at that time ben butler, fremont, or general banks, had not had the opportunity to lay down the law of the nation to the rebels in arms against its authority; but, luckily for me, i was aboard the ship commanded by captain d. d. porter, and though i had in my uncertainty of mind for several days "been like mahomet's coffin, suspended between the earth and sky," i did not at the time these negotiations were pending know that my life was hanging by so slender a thread, or, more properly speaking, that i was liable to be suspended by numerous threads woven together in the more substantial form of a rope. captain porter's interview, however, satisfied me at the time, but when i witnessed with what cordiality and heartiness the rebel officers were being received aboard our ship, my mind was puzzled, and i recall now a feeling of uncertainty or misgiving. in a day or so after captain porter's reception and emphatic rejection of whatever propositions the rebel officers accompanying the truce boat had made to him, in regard to giving into their hands for trial the yankee spy, i bid captain porter and his ship a hearty and thankful farewell, and the curtain was rung down on my pinafore experiences. the side-wheel transport steamer philadelphia being ready to return to the north, a day preceding her sailing i was placed aboard of her as a dead-head passenger for new york. there were quite a number of passengers aboard, among them lieutenant slemmer and one other artillery officer, whose name i have forgotten, who were going home for the benefit of their health; also a number of mechanics who had been employed about some repairs on the fort. as seen from the deck of the transport, as we weighed anchor and pointed her prow homeward-bound, i thought the sloop-of-war powhattan, with her companion ship, the brooklyn, with their port-holes and big guns and men aloft, to give us a parting salute, was one of the most beautiful sights imaginable. how much better pleased i was with the view from this standpoint than i had been with the sailing and saluting of the transport which had sailed a few days previous, under just such circumstances (except that i wasn't aboard of her on my way home). our captain had taken aboard some field-pieces of heavy artillery which had not yet been stowed below. while we were yet in that portion of the gulf where the water was comparatively so smooth, and the weather so fine, our civilian captain amused himself by calling on all hands to assist in mounting one of these guns on its field carriage, in the bow of his old transport, while he entertained himself and the ship's company with great stories of the danger from the newly-fledged privateers that jeff davis so promptly issued his letters of reprisal for. we steamed along smoothly and slowly enough for a day or two without any adventure. i have often wondered since what would have been the effect on the old ship if that captain had taken a crazy notion to have fired one of those big field-pieces. when we reached tortugas, or fort jefferson--which i believe is the name of the immense affair which seems to rise straight out of the water--there was considerable saluting and signaling with the flags on the fort as we approached the anchorage. we stayed at tortugas part of two days, storing away the guns, and i do think they were two of the most intolerably hot days that i have ever felt. as we lay at anchor, and when the sun was highest, it was necessary to spread over the ship's deck the large canvas awning, which the sailors said was to prevent the pitch calking from melting out and to avoid "warping the ship." here i went ashore, if going inside an immense fort can be called shore--there certainly was no freedom about it--but it was a great relief to one's legs to be able to stand and walk about on the ground once more, even though it was inside of great walls, and the only persons to be seen were the men of the garrison, their officers and a few families. during our voyage--after leaving key west--our fort pickens officers, lieutenant slemmer and his companion, had kept close to their rooms--probably they were too sick to make an appearance--but when the ship got into the bay, and as we ran up the river to the anchorage, mr. slemmer's sick companion made his appearance dressed up in full regimentals. as he sat on top of the pilot-house with our captain, with his mantle thrown back over his shoulder, and showing the brilliant red lining of the artillery uniform, he looked to me then as if he were expecting to be received as a hero. lieutenant slemmer, on the other hand, modest and retiring, did not show himself at all; and, as soon as he got ashore, he scurried off to pennsylvania to meet his wife, who had previously been highly honored and entertained after her return north through the rebel lines. your humble servant was not long in getting on solid ground, and, in company with a spanish exile from cuba, we drove at once to the astor house. here was lying in state, in their heavily draped parlor, the body of colonel ellsworth, the funeral cortege being on the way from washington city to the burial place, somewhere east of new york. it is not for me, in this narrative, to attempt anything like a description of the exciting times i was permitted to witness in new york city that sunday. those who have followed me in this effort to picture my solitary and lonely adventures, away off in florida, when my attempts, voluntarily, to do something for my country, and for the people who were then so terribly in earnest at home, will appreciate my feelings of joy and happiness, over being once more among friends--and such great, hearty, fighting friends, too, as everybody seemed to be at that time. the first thing i did was to go to a telegraph office; and, climbing up four or five flights of stairs, i found mr. porter in charge of the operating room, as chief operator and manager; and although i had never met him personally, i was well acquainted by wire, having often worked with him at the other end of a mile wire. introducing myself, and briefly explaining my arrival from florida, and a desire to announce myself to friends at the other end of his wire, he astonished me by at once saying: "why, bless me, is this _you_? there's been lots of talking over this wire about you lately." then he related at length all he had seen and heard of my career through the newspapers during all the time i was a helpless prisoner aboard the powhattan. he had, as you may imagine, a great deal of news for me about myself, as reported by the southern press and extensively copied in the north. i was soon put in communication over the wire with a brother operator near my own home; and, strange as it may appear to those who are not familiar with the humors of the telegraph, an operator's "touch," even though a thousand miles distant, like the sound of a familiar voice, is recognized by some peculiarity that attaches to the operator's style. my old friend at the other end of the wire, on hearing my "sending" at the new york end, told me afterward, that on that quiet sunday morning, when all alone in his office, he had been reading at that very moment a newspaper account of my adventures, in which it was made to appear that our officers had, in reply to the demand of the rebels, informed them, that they--the union officers--were going to hang this spy themselves; and while he was yet thinking that as between the two, there was no hope of my escape, his attention was called to the signal for his office to receive a message. hastily answering to "g. a.," or the telegrapher's go ahead, he pulled out a pencil to note down the message. the first words the brass tongue of the instrument sounded to his startled ears were: "i am o. k."--this was my telegraphic signal--"who are you?" he said he knew as quickly as the words "i am," were sounded, that it was me at the key; but, in his present state of mind, could not resist the feeling that he was about to communicate with a spirit, or the ghost of his friend, but, as the sounder became silent, or paused for a reply, he recovered himself, and answered nervously that he was my old friend gilson. then we had a long, confidential talk in whispers, as it were, over the long wire, in which much that i have tried to relate in these pages was briefly gone over, while i was, in turn, informed of all that had been done and said during my absence. word was sent to my father and to my sweethearts and all my friends. as i rose to leave the office, and turned to thank my old fraternal companion for his kindness and courtesy, in giving me this opportunity to at once converse with my home, he suggested to me that, as i had been so grossly misrepresented, i ought to see the new york papers and have my story properly given to the world. at his request, i agreed to meet him at the office in the evening, when he would take me to the different offices of newspapers with which he, as manager of the associated press, had friendly relations, and introduce me to the editors. leaving mr. porter, i found my way next to rev. henry ward beecher's church, in brooklyn, as being one of the necessary things to do in new york on a sunday morning. here i got a back seat, in a crowded gallery, and, as i had not yet gotten over the tumbling and rolling sensations experienced aboard our old tub of a ship, as i sat there and tried to ogle the pretty girls in the choir over mr. beecher's pulpit, the whole church persisted in rocking and rolling, precisely as the ship had been doing for a week. the rest of the day i put in sending notes and messages to washington, and to friends whom i had left at home, but many of whom, i now learned, were out in the army, at different points. in the evening, i met my friend according to appointment, and together we called at the new york _herald_ office, where i was pleasantly welcomed as a "fruitful subject," and the shrewd city editor pumped me thoroughly dry before he let me out of that chair by his desk. from there we went to the new york _tribune_, where the same procedure was gone through but at somewhat greater length. the next morning, which, if i remember rightly, was may th, , these two new york papers printed with bold head-lines a full account of my recent adventure. the _tribune_, i think, published one of their war maps, in which was located the different rebel batteries, but in such a mixed-up way that i was unable to understand it myself. however, it satisfied the people, and for a single day i was a greater hero in new york than lieutenant slemmer. luckily for me, perhaps, i was anxious to get back home to see my number one girl, and got out of the city before i could be wholly spoiled. when i got over to philadelphia, where i had some old railroad friends, upon whom i called for passes home, i was also quite a big fellow among my former railroad associates, and the passes were furnished without a question as to my claims or rights. fortunately, i survived it all. i reckon i should have first reported to the war department, at washington, but at that particular time i was much more concerned about what no. would think of it all, than i was for the opinion of the war department, so i first reported to her, and the first words i heard were: "why, i thought you were hung!" what a deadener that was! the word _hung_ fell from her lips into my heart like the dull, sickening thud of the dropping victim from the scaffold. but this isn't to be a love story, so i must pass over some of the most interesting little events in the career i am trying to describe, although they supply the motive for many of the acts and incidents which to all my friends seemed queer. chapter vii. reporting to the secretary of war, at washington--ordered on another scout to virginia--in patterson's army, in virginia, before the battle of bull run. i was having such a pleasant time at my home and among my young friends, that i took no thought of reporting to the officials of the war department, at washington. one day we were advised by the papers that senator andy johnson, the famous unionist of tennessee, would pass through our town on his way to the capital. this was about the time of the outbreak of the reign of terror in east tennessee, and the sturdy senator, with many others of the same fearless build, had been forced to flee for his life. but while he was a hunted fugitive when south of the ohio river, his progress through the loyal states to washington was a right royal one. as will be recalled, mr. johnson had been my first friend in washington, and it was through my association with himself and mr. covode that i had entered the service. when the train rolled up to the station, i was the first to board the car, and, in my rather boyish way, pushed unceremoniously through the crowd to where the senator was holding an impromptu reception. he greeted me very kindly by a hearty shake, as he bade me sit down by him, and as soon as he found an opportunity, in his half-laughing, fatherly way, began to catechize the boy. as i have previously said, up to the meeting with the senator, i had been entirely neglectful of my proper duty of reporting to the war department a formal account of my movements since leaving washington. i assumed that, in a general way, the newspaper comments, which were quite flattering in the north, would be sufficient. this fact, with the frank confession that i really felt myself under greater obligations to a little girl, and was more willing to do her bidding than that of the secretary of war, explains another of my many mistakes during the war. when i told senator johnson that i had not heard from the war department since leaving washington in march--it was early in june now--he said at once: "why, you had better come right along with me to washington. you ought to be there now." just then the train began to move off; a friend standing near me who had heard the senator's suggestion, emphatically seconded it, by saying: "go on; now is your chance; you might be too late if you wait here longer." i had no opportunity to say good-by to my folks, my friends, or my sweetheart; but went off as impulsively as before on a scouting campaign that, in effect, lasted until the close of the war. during that night's railroad ride over the alleghany mountains, as i sat alongside mr. johnson, as we sped along the juniata, i told him my story. the senator was an attentive listener, and, before going to sleep, directed that i should at once put myself in communication with the war department, and refer the secretary to himself and mr. covode. in those days i did not consider a berth in a sleeping-car a necessary condition for a night's ride, but found an empty seat, curled my five feet six and-a-half inches of body into three and-a-half feet of space, and slept the sound sleep of youth, while the train rapidly rolled through the darkness toward the sunrise and daylight. on my arrival in washington, i went directly to the seventh avenue hotel, located at the northeast corner of seventh and pennsylvania avenues and market space. this was mr. covode's quarters when in the city. the clerk directed me to the parlor, where mr. covode was at that moment receiving a delegation. recognizing me at once, he collared me as a school-master would a truant boy whom he had caught unexpectedly. i was pleasantly hauled across the room and introduced to mr. john w. forney, as a "young man from our own state who had been down amongst the rebels, and they couldn't catch him; and if they had, he wouldn't be here now.--ha! ha!" i found myself quite well known in washington wherever introduced by mr. covode and his friends. it will be remembered that mr. forney was then a prominent newspaper man, and no doubt he found in the boy, who had just returned from a trip through rebel armies, quite an interesting news source for his papers. i had been compelled to go over my story so much that i really became quite surfeited with the whole business, and was glad enough when evening came, that i could go off alone and have a nice little time around the corner at the "canterberry." every old soldier who spent a day or night in washington will laugh when he reads anything about the "canterberry." i confess that for a time i became so greatly interested in the famous bouffe singer, julia mortimer, that i had nearly forgotten no. , and was becoming quite indifferent in regard to my appointment or business with the war department. i found that it was about as difficult as before i left the city for montgomery to obtain a private hearing with the secretary. upon the suggestion of these friends, who had interested themselves in me, i was advised to make my application personally to the secretary of war for a commission in the regular army; all agreed that this would be about the proper thing to do, it being understood that, in case i should secure this, which would be a permanency, that i could, of course, be detailed in the customary way, on special staff duty, in the field, where there would be opportunity for me to make some use of the information i had obtained of the southern country and their armies. with this object in view, i called at the war department one day in company with mr. covode. mr. cameron was, as usual, very busy. there were a great many persons waiting their turn for an audience. mr. covode was admitted out of the regular order, because he, being a congressman, had stated to the attendants, in his positive way, that his business was most urgent, and that he _must_ see the secretary. mr. cameron received us at first rather gruffly, when he learned that the object of this visit was to secure an office; but, upon being reminded of a former appeal and promise, and my recent services being brought to his attention in mr. covode's glowing style, the secretary turned to me laughing, in his quiet way, and said: "well, there's no doubt but that you have the pluck necessary for the army." then turning to mr. covode, abruptly interrupting him, as if to ask a question: "we would like to find out just now what the rebel johnston is doing down in front of pennsylvania." covode was ready to change the subject, and follow the secretary's lead, and at once spoke for me: "well, here's the boy to find out all about it." he didn't seem to think it necessary to consult me about the matter at all. mr. cameron, looking at me quizzically, said: "i will have you in mind, and get you _something_ as soon as i can find a suitable place." then turning about, as the attendant brought in a message from another urgent congressman, he said, in an authoritative manner: "covode, you go to army headquarters and tell them i sent you there with this young man. they can use him to advantage, perhaps. i will see you again." i wasn't exactly satisfied with this outlook. i had thought that i was through with the spy business, and had no desire to undertake any more lonely and isolated trips through the enemy's country. since my return i had found that nearly all the young fellows of my acquaintance were either in the army, or about to enter it, and i had naturally imbibed the military fever which prevailed at this time. i reckon every one of us expected, as a matter of course, to become colonels or generals in short order, for gallant service in front of the enemy, so it was not at all to my liking that i was being steered in the direction of the rear of the rebel lines again. in my case, it was a doubly-dangerous undertaking, as i had so recently been well advertised all over the south in their papers, and was, of course, liable to be recognized and hung as a spy if i should be captured any place in their lines. as i walked with mr. covode from the old war department building i said something to him about my misgivings, but in his hearty way he assured me by saying: "oh, this isn't going to last long." and then in a confidential manner he said: "old simon wants to find out something; you just go ahead and do as he wants you to, and it will be all right." when we reached army headquarters we encountered a sentry on duty at the door--a soldier of the regular army, who did not show mr. covode any particular attention, not recognizing a congressman in his rough exterior. after some dilly-dallying we were admitted to the presence of a military-looking fellow whose name i can not recall. mr. covode introduced himself, and presented me as being sent by the secretary of war. this announcement at once seemed to put the officer in a better humor with himself and his callers. mr. covode brusquely stated his business; the officer attentively listened and sharply eyed me while mr. covode went through with his story about my services at pensacola. "does the secretary want to procure any information as to general patterson's movements?" (it will be remembered that at this time general patterson was being urged by the war department to make a demonstration on johnston, to prevent him reinforcing beauregard at manassas.) mr. covode answered: "we want all the information we can get from all quarters, and he can get it too." the officer said, smilingly: "oh yes, of course; the young man is in the secret service of the war department." returning to the secretary's office for some written authority to present to general patterson, we were directed by mr. cameron to one of the clerks, who, after a short private conversation between mr. covode and mr. cameron, was authorized to prepare a note of introduction. as he handed the official envelope to me, he took occasion to observe, in a very pleasant way: "i would suggest that this young man should not permit any persons to become acquainted with his business; the department prefers to hear from their special agents in confidence, and _not through the newspapers_." this hint given in this pleasant manner, i did not forget in following months or years. to my friend and tutelar saint, mr. covode, i again expressed my doubts about any secret service, after returning from our brief interview with mr. secretary-of-war cameron and the official at army headquarters. mr. covode apparently agreed with my conclusions, saying, as he reached for the official-looking letter which the war department clerk had given me, and that i hesitatingly held in my hand: "lets see that letter." putting on his old-fashioned round-eyed spectacles, he read half aloud, in his deliberate way, as if studying out some hidden meaning: "this will introduce to you mr. o. k., a young man who has gained some personal knowledge of the plans of the rebels, and who, i hope, may be of service to you in the same direction, etc. (signed), "simon cameron, _secretary of war_." he read it over a second time, and then looking at me, as if he had suddenly solved a problem said: "didn't he tell you to report _direct_ to the war department?" "yes," i remembered that i was advised to report to the war department first and not to the newspapers. "well," says mr. covode, "that's all right; you go up there and find patterson and present that letter, and he will give you authority to go wherever you please, and you let us know here what's going on." when i left the old man, i ventured a word as to my prospects for a commission in the regular army, to which he gave the usual answer: "oh, that's all right," and added-- "come and see me to-morrow and i'll give you some more letters to some friends in patterson's army." after a restless night, i was early at mr. covode's room receiving a pleasant good-morning. he said in a confidential whisper, but which was loud enough for any person to have heard had we not been alone in the room: "i saw some of those people last night, and it is all right." that wasn't very great encouragement to be sure, but, he added with a significant wink, "you go up there at once and find out all you can, and report _to me_ what's going on, particularly if there are any rebels going to attack patterson's army," and he added, again with emphasis, "report to me here, quick as you can." "yes, but this letter is to report to general patterson." "that's all right; you are to report direct to the war department, too." i began to feel considerably mixed up by these contradictory instructions, but all the satisfaction i could get from mr. c. was--"that's all right," to which he added, as i was leaving, "you tell me all you can find out, and i'll make it all right at the war department." as this letter had been prepared and signed by a clerk in the war department, the penmanship was, of course, in the regulation copper-plate style, wholly unlike the former endorsement that i had received in mr. cameron's own handwriting. though patterson's army was in the neighborhood of harper's ferry and williamsport, maryland, about fifty miles distant in a direct route from washington, i concluded that, with such a recommendation in my possession, the furthest way round might be the nearest way home; i would not risk the capture of that note by taking a short cut, so i made a safe detour, going due north to baltimore and harrisburg, pa., distant over a hundred miles; thence i came back southwest through the beautiful cumberland valley to chambersburg and hagerstown, about seventy-five or eighty miles more ground. here i was almost literally dumped from the car into the midst of general patterson's army--a lively host of the gallant and patriotic boys who had rushed to arms at the first call of president lincoln for the three-months men. there have been books upon books published giving the history of this campaign, any one of which probably contains a more satisfactory description of the camp-life of those days than i would be able to give here. this effort is necessarily a personal, and, to some extent a private history only, of the campaigns of an individual scout, but i may be indulged in the hope that some of the old boys, who will take the trouble to follow me in these wanderings, may have been among those who were in camp near hagerstown along in june and july, . with what tenacity the mind clings to the remembrance of those early days of the great war. i recall, as if it were but yesterday, this first hunt through the different camps for "headquarters." jolly soldiers were to be found everywhere, either walking about the roads in hilarious squads, or assembled in groups under the shade of trees by the roadside, or perhaps crowding the porches and occupying all the chairs in the neighboring houses. in after years, when provost-marshals and camp-guards were established, the sky-larking was not so common, and the crowds, then, were usually to be seen only around some spring or well of water. i recall now with amusement how ignorant some of the three-month boys of ' were about their own army-headquarters. many to whom i applied for information about the location of headquarters, referred me severally, to their own colonels, while one young officer, i remember, pointed to a mounted officer just riding past as the "general's assistant." i tramped through miles of dust that hot afternoon before i could get onto general patterson's track, and, when i finally discovered headquarters, i learned that the general with some of his aides were attending a dinner-party in the town and could not be seen before the next day. i did not deliver my letter of introduction to the officer, who i thought at the time rather impudently demanded to know my business with the general, but merely told him that i should call again to see the general. having tried to perform a duty, and attended to business first, i set about enjoying the holiday which it seemed to me the boys were having all around. how like a circus it all seemed; some of the scenes then enacted might be compared to that of a country fair, at which there was being held, as an additional attraction to the country people, a militia muster or a prize drill, such as we see now when the state troops assemble one week in summer for their annual camp and drill. there was so much free and easy mixture of civilians and ladies with the soldiers--especially the officers--all were being constantly stirred up by the bands, that seemed to break forth in melody from every grove. there was, of course, the dust on the roads; the processions of thirsty crowds to and from the springs or wells; it all seems now like an immense picnic. dear me, what bass drums there were in general patterson's army; wasn't there one to each company? the old-fashioned bass drum, too, as big as a barn door, and noisy in proportion, and to which was usually assigned the biggest fellow in the company the duty of beating on both sides. a rebel officer once told me that they were able to estimate the strength of mcdowell's army before manassas by the beating of bass drums at parades each evening. along about sundown the usual preparations were made in all the camps for the dress parade--the great feature of the day--which was being witnessed by hundreds, and perhaps thousands, of ladies, old men, and children, who would drive out from the town and surrounding country for miles to witness it, to the delight of the soldiers. what a beautiful sight, in june, , was a full regiment of , freshly-uniformed, healthy, fresh men in line on dress parade, with their gayly-attired officers (staff and line), going through the "retreat" with fine musical accompaniment. how smart the adjutant was, and what a tremendous fellow the drum-major! on sunday evenings, at this parade, the chaplain took a hand in the drill, making a prayer, while the long line of the full regiment stood at "parade rest," uncovered, with heads bowed, their little fatigue caps being placed on the muzzle of the gun; the band played "old hundred," and perhaps a chorus of a thousand male voices sung the soul-thrilling melody of the grand old tune, which is sung in heaven. so it was in front of hagerstown in june or july, . it was the fortune of war for me to be with the army of the potomac again before hagerstown in july, --a week after the battle of gettysburg. but--ah, yes--the conditions were sadly changed; scarcely a brigade of that army could muster then as many men as were in each regiment in . there were no visitors in camp; not a lady was to be seen, except, perhaps, the hospital attendants, and the music was confined to the tiresome routine of the "reveille," "tattoo" and "taps." my first day in general patterson's army was so full of new and soul-stirring sensations, as compared with the same experiences in the rebel lines, that i was all in a ferment, and forgot about being tired, hungry and worn out, until the evening parades were all over, and the soldiers began to prepare their camp suppers. while trudging wearily back to the town, some miles distant, to find some supper and a bed, i had the opportunity to reflect seriously in my own mind over the work that i had undertaken. i wondered to myself if there were not rebel spies in our army there. it occurred to me at once that there were no obstacles for them to overcome--the entire camp was free; everybody was welcomed indiscriminately to the camp by the good-hearted soldiers; and officers were only too eager to talk with every caller about all they knew of the plans and strength of their own army. this, notwithstanding we were then encamped in maryland, among a people who, if not openly hostile to our cause, were generally in sympathy with the secessionists, whose army was within fighting distance and communication with their headquarters was only a question of an hour or so. our officers and soldiers had certainly taken hagerstown, md., as i found to my disgust when i reached the hotel after dark, finding every bed and every corner of the old tavern was literally in possessions of our forces, though, through the kindly interest of a citizen, i was luckily provided with half a bed in a private house. of course i slept well, except that i was disturbed by a horrid nightmare. i had somehow been transformed into a big brass drum, which a brawny fellow insisted upon pounding upon my stomach, which probably hadn't succeeded in digesting the cold supper. the first thing next morning was to try and find general patterson. my experience of the previous day enabled me to steer in a straight course this time, so i was not long in getting to headquarters; but seeing general patterson was not such an easy matter. his staff officers volunteered to attend to business for their general, but i wouldn't, of course, allow _any_ person to learn the character of my business. it was only after i had written a note, stating that i had a letter from the secretary of war which i desired to present personally, that i was permitted to approach the commander. i need not describe the old philadelphia militia general. he had, as is well-known, achieved some distinction during the mexican war, and since that had enjoyed a life of leisure in his native city, where he had, by means of his wealth and accomplishments, become connected with the aristocratic families of the quaker city. he was, besides, a patron of the military and the clubs; and being so favorably endorsed by prominent people of the state, he was selected to command the troops of pennsylvania, then operating against general joe johnston of the rebel army. after some further delay, i was admitted to the presence of the old general, who, i imagined, was surprised at my youthful appearance and wondered that i had the temerity to beard such a grim old soldier as himself in his den. there were several other officers present, and also two gentlemen in civilian's dress, one of whom was quite an elderly-looking gentleman while his companion was a young fellow, whose appearance struck me at once as being that of a southerner. while general patterson read my note of introduction from the secretary of war, i embraced the opportunity to more closely observe the visitors, who were being entertained so pleasantly by the officers. i quickly gathered from the conversation that the elderly gentleman was applying to our officers for some protection from our own soldiers, for his property. he probably owned some cherry trees in the neighborhood of the camp, or, perhaps, it may have been that the soldiers insisted on using some of the water from an overflowing spring somewhere on his ground. whatever it was, he was receiving from the staff officers quite emphatic assurances that he should receive all the protection he wanted, and, moreover, the men guilty of trespassing on his ground should be severely punished. the young fellow whom i assumed to be the son had nothing to say. after general patterson had finished reading the note, he turned, and, after looking me all over, through his glasses, as if i was some kind of a curiosity who stood meekly and innocently before him, said: "why, take a seat." then, turning to one of his aides, he said something in an undertone as he handed him the letter. the aide, after reading it carefully, stepped up to me and pleasantly but coolly invited me outside, when he said: "the general requests that you will come to his quarters this evening." this wasn't exactly satisfactory to me, but i was glad enough to get from the presence of the general's visitors, because i was apprehensive that something might be said in their hearing that would identify me as a scout. my visit to general patterson occurred about the time that general joe johnston was manoeuvering in his front, with the object of getting away from him to reinforce beauregard at manassas, in anticipation of the impending battle there. our washington officials were uneasy as to the outcome of this movement, and had been almost daily urging general patterson to make some demonstration in front of johnston that would prevent his leaving for manassas. though i did not know it at the time, i have since learned that the war department, at washington, while they would not employ scouts themselves over the head of the commander of the department, yet were willing enough to avail themselves of the information of the scout who could make his reports in an unofficial manner, through mr. covode, without compromising the courtesy or etiquette of the war office. the whole country seemed to be alive with soldiers, all in a jolly good humor, nicely dressed, well fed. their camps were models of tent life. there did not seem to me to be any preparation whatever for marching to meet the enemy. there was an immense amount of talk about what they intended to do. general patterson's army did move, of course; but--well, to go on with my story: i was most anxious to do something great myself, being so filled with military ardor by the bass drums; perhaps the probability of the war being closed before i should have the pleasure of participating in a real fight with guns, was more constantly before my mind than any other danger. it seemed a long wait until evening, when i could again see general patterson, and unfold to him a plan i had formulated, to go inside the rebel lines that very night, and before morning find out, from a visit to general johnston's army, what he was likely to do. in my youthful ardor i hoped i could return to general patterson before breakfast time, that he might have the fight that same day before dinner. these were the wild feelings that were swelling in my breast when i approached headquarters to meet general patterson's appointment. i walked boldly up to a group of officers who were loafing around headquarters; a sentry challenged me; nothing daunted, i pointed to one of the group--the same officer who had directed me to call--and asked to see him. my running into the sentry had made some little commotion, which served to call the attention of the officer, who recognized me and ordered the guard to allow me to pass. meeting me half way, we walked to one side. i believe this officer was fitz-john porter, who was then chief-of-staff--i am not positive; anyway, i was courteously received, and, after being seated, was put through a course of cross-examination as to my recent experience in the south, pretty much--as i now recall it--after the manner of a witness in his own defense. being satisfied that general patterson had referred the whole subject to this officer for his action, i told him briefly and pointedly that i was willing and ready to undertake the service i proposed, and believed that it was possible to ascertain the movements, and perhaps the plans of general johnston; that i could at least gather from their telegraph communications to richmond and manassas the purport of any instructions which were, of course, being sent to johnston in that way over the wires. i was perfectly willing, for the good of the cause, to undertake the dangerous service of getting back through the lines with the information. whatever may have been thought of the feasibility or propriety of this project, mr. porter could scarcely have doubted my motive, but he apparently looked upon me as a youthful enthusiast, or, as we term it nowadays, a crank. he said: "the general is not disposed to make much use of the service of scouts; he thinks it altogether unnecessary in this instance." if fitz-john porter had dashed a bucket of cold water in my face, it would not at the time have had a more chilling effect than his few hard words he uttered in this contemptible manner. my proposition was not visionary, but entirely practical, and i venture now the opinion that had the service been accepted in the proper spirit it is possible that the despised spy might have brought to his shiftless headquarters some reliable information of johnston's proposed movement to manassas, which might have prevented his escape, and thus have turned the tide of battle at bull run, which followed soon after the interview. it is likely that the headquarters of the army were a little over-sensitive on account of the well-known or the imagined interference or meddling of the washington authorities with their military prerogatives. it has been fully explained in the "century" history, (since this story was first told) that general scott, through the proper channels, had been for days urging general patterson to look carefully after johnston, and to prevent at all hazards his junction with beauregard. the urgency of the washington officials, taken in connection with the letter i brought from the secretary and mr. covode, may perhaps have caused them to infer that they were considered neglectful and needed some prompting and investigation; perhaps it may have been thought that i had been sent out as a spy in their own camps. any way, i was not a willing party to any such schemes; my only object and desire was to accomplish something for the benefit of the cause, and in this i had not a thought of myself. returning sorrowfully and with my heart laden with disappointment to my bed, i pondered long before sleeping as to my proper course. the longer i considered all the circumstances connected with my being sent up there, i realized more clearly the real meaning of covode's words: "old simon wants to find out something; you go ahead," and the repeated hints to report "direct," came back to me with a greater significance than when uttered by mr. covode in washington. my humiliating reception at headquarters had deeply affected my rather sensitive feelings on the spy question. i had decided in my own mind to return to washington at once; but after reflection, while on my bed, there was a revulsion of feeling from humiliation to anger; and, after taking all things into consideration, i decided for myself, without consulting any one, that i should, on my own responsibility and without aid from our own officers, pass through our lines, enter the rebel lines, ascertain their plans, and go direct via manassas to washington, and report _personally_ to the secretary of war. chapter viii. a night's scout in johnston's army--rebel signals--visitors from the union army headquarters report to rebel headquarters--general j. e. johnston's escape to beauregard reported to general patterson--fitz-john porter responsible for the first battle of bull run, as he was cashiered for that of the second bull run--an important contribution to the war history of the time--the story since confirmed by the "century" historians of lincoln, secretaries nicolay and hay. in the morning i mailed a hastily-written note to mr. covode relating briefly the result of the interview with general patterson's principal aide, and stating further that i would return to washington via the rebel lines at manassas, and report "direct" on my arrival. i hunted up in one of the regiments a former acquaintance, who had some knowledge of my fort pickens adventures through the papers. as our talk naturally turned in this channel, he expressed a lively desire to engage with me in any further undertakings of this character, and, before we parted, it was mutually agreed that, if the arrangements could be made, we should travel together as scouts. i told my chum of my intention of going to washington via winchester and manassas, and suggested that he secure permission from his colonel to go part of the way along; that he might return with any important information that we should gather, while i should go on through to washington. it was agreed that he should be granted a leave of absence for a certain time, but he was cautioned by all his friends not to follow my lead, as it would surely result in his getting hanged. the warnings served only to increase his anxiety to get started on a real adventure. as we could not get authority from our officers to go outside of our lines, it was necessary that we should run the gauntlet of both the picket-lines; our own were in sight and could probably be easily managed, but we did not know anything whatever about the other. [illustration: we hastily dressed and ran back from the bank.] i proposed that we should make the crossing of the river early in the evening under pretence of bathing, swim to the other side of the river with our clothes concealed in bushes held above the water. we were to assume the character of baltimore refugees desirous of entering the rebel army. with this plan matured, and all the little minor points agreed upon between us in case of capture or separation, we were both eager for the night to come, that we might start upon the journey. we both studied the virginia landscape carefully during all of daylight, and when evening began to draw its shadows around the hills and trees our hearts beat quicker, in anticipation of the forthcoming adventure. after sundown we joined a crowd who had permission to bathe. there were, probably, a dozen or more in the crowd. we quickly undressed; scarcely speaking a word to each other, we joined in a general way in the sport and antics that soldiers love so much to indulge in when off duty. my wardrobe was done up in as small a bundle as was possible, and while the others were fully immersed in their sport, i slipped both bundles further down the shore; my friend watching the movement from among the crowd. at a hint from me he swam down the stream and, quickly picking up the two bundles in the darkness that had now come upon us, safely towed them to the other shore, where he waited for me. i joined him as soon as possible, without being missed; we hastily dressed and ran back from the bank into the bushes to finish our toilets, and take an observation and both laughing at our success in escaping from our friends. we thought it best to avoid the public roads after passing our pickets, so kept to the fields and woods, we cautiously moving along, stopping every now and then to listen and peer through the darkness for some signs of life. we crossed field after field and passed through strips of woods that seemed to be miles in extent, carefully avoiding all houses in our path. the tramp became lonesome and tiresome--our nerves were at the highest tension, as we expected at every step to meet with something, we didn't know exactly what. without a sign of anything alive except the crickets and frogs, we finally became indifferent and careless, having about concluded in our own minds that the rebels had left that part of virginia. one fact was certainly established early in the scout, there were no signs of an enemy in general patterson's immediate front that night, and probably there had not been any regular force near him for several days; yet every soldier in our army was positive that the woods right in front of them where we had been tramping were full of rebels. general patterson's official reports will show that he entertained this erroneous opinion; yet he had no desire to avail himself of the service of scouts. becoming convinced that we should not meet with any opposition, we became bolder the further we went, and at last took the public road, trotted along leisurely without much attempt at concealment for some distance; we had almost became disgusted, not meeting with any fun, when we stumbled right into a barricade, which had been placed across the public highway by the rebels. luckily for the two foolish scouts, the enemy was not there to secure the game that had blundered into their trap. it is doubtful if it had ever been occupied at all, being probably placed in that position as a blind. this blockade, however, would have answered the purpose of obstructing, for awhile at least, a cavalry raid, or charge. most likely it had been placed there to protect a retreating army. it did not have the effect of stopping us, however, and we moved on further south. as we emerged from a deep wood, we were at last rewarded by seeing a light on the top of the hill beyond, but yet some distance to the side of the road; we made this out to be a light in the window of some farmhouse, but my comrade, who was a farmer boy, suggested that it wasn't the right thing for a farmhouse to be lighted up that way at midnight. looking at it from our uncertain standpoint, we concluded to approach it cautiously and see if there were anybody stirring around about the light. climbing over the fence into the field, we approached that light by the cautious, engineering tactics, using a zigzag stake-and-rider fence for our sap. for the first time that night we felt for our pistols, which were the only weapons we had. the oppressive silence was broken by my farmer comrade's voice startling me by a husky: "i'll bet we'll find the dogs at home, anyway." we crawled up that fence in single line, heads and bodies bent, something after the style of pictures of indians about to attack a pioneer's log house. stealthily we moved along, pausing every moment or two to listen and look about. we had some dispute as to which of us should take the advance. i reasoned with my friend that he was the better countryman, and more familiar with stake-and-rider fences and dogs than i; that it was his place to go ahead; but he wouldn't have it that way, insisting that i was the captain and must lead; so i reluctantly went ahead, insisting that he should follow his leader close enough to be touched. while talking in hushed voices, i stepped abruptly right onto something soft and round, which jumped up as suddenly as if i had loosed a spring, and with an unearthly snort and grunt began to scamper off. i was so startled, and became so nervous from the suddenness of the encounter, that i must have jumped around as quickly as an automaton pulled by a string--my comrade being close to me, as directed. i had by my quick turn knocked my head square against his with such force that we were both stunned. it was only an old hog that we had roused from the innocent sleep of the country, which, at any other time, would have been awfully funny, but we were both too badly hurt to laugh, and too much scared to swear out loud. this one hog started up some others, the whole herd scampering over the fields snorting, which in turn routed out the dogs from the house, that came tearing out toward the sounds. luckily enough, there was a picket or garden fence between us and the house, which the dogs didn't get over, and, before they got around it, their attention was drawn away from our location toward the hogs that were still running away from us. while my companion and i were comparing notes we were further startled by hearing a sound of voices, which were apparently coming from the same direction we had just passed over. now we were in for it. there were dogs in front of us, hogs to the side of us, and voices to the rear of us. the lights at the house had disappeared suddenly when the dogs began their uproar--there was nothing to be seen except the outlines of the grove surrounding the house. while breathlessly considering what would be the next best move, the sound of voices was again heard, seemingly closer this time. straining every faculty, i imagined that i could also distinguish footsteps; that there were more than one person was evident from the conversation; but whether they were colored boys, returning from a night out, or white men and enemies who, like ourselves, were on a scout, armed and liable to go off at half-cock on the slightest provocation, was the one thing we would have given anything to have found out. we couldn't run, as our retreat was cut off, and, if we moved at all, we were likely to start up the pack of infernal dogs, so we did the only thing possible under the circumstances--kept still. the footsteps came on up the road, the voices getting closer. we made out that there were three persons, all talking earnestly together. if they had discovered us we would probably have carried out the maryland refugee plan, and have joined them and have escaped detection. _but what if they should be our own men?_ i imagine that i can hear better with my hat off, so putting my head close to the ground, and in such a position that i could see over the lower fence rail, i waited with beating heart the coming footsteps. it was soon evident that they were talking about the light in the house that had disappeared, and i soon learned from the voices and the language used that they were not colored men. as the trio came nearer, one voice said: "well, we'd better wait right here." "oh, it's all safe enough; let's go on!" "but," said the first speaker, "they said not to come to the house at night, unless there was a candle light in that far-corner window." the third, who had not yet spoken, was nearest me, and was looking into the field right over where i lay. i thought that through the darkness, to which our eyes had become accustomed, that i recognized a face and form that i had met some place, but was not able to clearly distinguish. while there had been nothing said to indicate their errand, it became pretty clear from these words that they were enemies, as there was apparently an understanding about the light in the window. was it possible that there were other men from the house skirmishing around in the darkness to our rear, and aided with guns and those dogs, would they run us down? the third person, stepping a little in advance of the others, said: "get back to the fence; there's somebody up on the road." they scattered, and in a moment more suppressed voices were heard coming from an opposite direction, or _down_ the road. we were between two enemies, but, fortunately, for us, on the opposite side and behind a big fence crouching in some elderberry bushes. my companion, as still as a log, was probably, like myself, so badly scared that he couldn't trust his voice to whisper a thought. two men--one in his shirt-sleeves, and the other in rebel uniform, which i so well recognized, as the same old grey i had been familiar with at pensacola and montgomery, came cautiously down the road. as they were almost directly opposite me, one of the three who had come _up_ the hill, accosted them familiarly: "helloa, billy; you like to scairt us to death. i thought the yankees had put you and your light out sure." at once there was mutual hand-shaking, laughter and general hilarity, that served to draw attention away from ourselves and the dogs. the man in his shirt-sleeves explained that he had kept his light in the window all right, until a little while previously, when the dogs scared up something, and he took it down, until he was sure everything was all right. so here was a signal station, and a rendezvous. i took courage when the party began to move off toward the house, and, as they passed my loophole, _i discovered, to my astonishment, that one of the three who had come up the road was none other than the young man i had seen in general patterson's headquarters_, accompanying the old gentleman, and both of whom were so cordially entertained by our general's staff. here he was, a _direct_ messenger from headquarters of our army, meeting, by a concerted signal, a rebel officer in the enemy's country. that was news, sure enough; and they had hardly gotten out of sight before i shocked my torpid friend as i, with an emphasis he did not understand, told him that we must both skin back to our army headquarters _at once_. i wouldn't leave him to return alone with such important information, but together we would go direct to general patterson's presence, and tell him that there were no rebels confronting him; that the enemy had positive and direct information of his position and probable plans. "the best laid plans of mice and men, gang aft agley." as previously indicated, i had intended to go straight through the rebel armies to manassas, and so on to washington via general mcdowell's army and the long bridge. in pursuance of this plan, we had cleverly escaped from our own pickets during the early hours of the night, successfully tramped miles into the rebels' country without meeting a challenge--eluding any pickets or outlooks the rebels may have had out, by a careful avoidance of all the roads or other usual routes of travel. but i had no intention of putting myself any closer to the fellow whom i had met the day previously at general patterson's headquarters, and whom i had just discovered to be a rebel spy, in communication with the man in the rebel uniform, and the farmer in his shirt-sleeves. had i tried the maryland refugee dodge on this gathering of scouts, who were familiar with all the border, he would have recalled having seen me at general patterson's headquarters, and an explanation would have been embarrassing. luckily for the two scouts, who were lying in the bushes within sound of their voices, there was such an exuberance of good feeling among themselves over their meeting, after the little scare, that it had the effect of putting the entire party off their guard for the moment. no attention was paid to the antics of the dogs, which were whining and nosing around, uncomfortably close to our hiding-place in the fence-corner. the farmer, growing impatient at their noises, which interfered with the conversation, greatly to our relief, drove them back toward the house. the only enemy we had expected to find were the rebel soldiers in gray uniform, with muskets in their hands, standing on guard. we had not calculated on their, "letting slip the dogs of war," or else we might have provided ourselves with a few poisoned dog buttons; of course, we couldn't use our pistols on the dogs, as that would jeopardize our lives; the report would arouse the country and locate us; so, like lear, "mine enemy's dog, though he had hit me, should have stood that night against my fire." the five men and the--i don't know how many dogs--had scarcely gotten out of sight when my comrade and i energetically started on the back track. i am ready to admit that we ran, that we ran fast, even though we didn't see where we were going, in the dark; and i confess that i was in the lead, but my comrade kept up with me pretty well. we ran over the soft, grassy fields in the direction from whence we had come, for a long time without either of us speaking a word. when nearly out of breath and exhausted we let up a little, to get our second wind for the final run, if any more miserable dogs should get onto our scent. "say," gasped my comrade, breathing hard, "i think you cut my head open when you jumped onto me, when that hog scared you; it's all bloody, ain't it?" i didn't stop long enough then to examine his head; i was in too much of a hurry, and, besides, it was too dark to distinguish blood. i replied to him rather testily, perhaps, as i didn't quite relish the reminder of being scared by a sleeping hog. "i wasn't scared at all--just merely _startled_--and if you hadn't been holding onto my coat tails so closely, you wouldn't have been hurt." "oh, hell! didn't you tell me to keep close to you?" he retorted, savagely, as he rubbed his head, and looked at the moist hand to see if he could distinguish the color of blood. "and you wouldn't go ahead, either, unless i was right on top of you, and, if i did get behind a little, you stopped for me to catch up." i forged on ahead sullenly, too mad to continue the conversation further, except to say, petulantly: "i believe i am bleeding at the temple myself, from having bumped your thick head so hard when i turned round to caution you not to tramp on that hog." but my companion was in too bad a humor--we both were--to laugh over the ridiculous mishap, which i am sure was as painful to myself as to him. we trudged along in the dark in sulky silence for some distance further, each nursing his sore head in wrath. i ventured the suggestion, by way of a compromise to my cross companion, that if he had taken the lead in our approach to the house, as i had earnestly urged upon him, i might have been in as bad a fix as himself. to this offer of a compromise he curtly replied: "no; i wouldn't have tried to jump out of my skin, just because i had kicked a sleeping sow in a fence-corner." he had scarcely finished speaking when he stumbled square across the back of an old cow, that was quietly lying in the grass chewing her cud; but cows, you know, are not so sudden in their movements as hogs, when they are startled out of their sleep. this one, anyway, didn't make any unearthly noise or snorts, nor attempt to jump up and run off, but lay still, quietly chewing away, apparently perfectly unconcerned. i believe she would have allowed a whole army to have crawled over her without disturbing her repose, but the incident served to put us both in a laughing humor. i concluded, however, that i'd had enough experience with the hogs and cows of virginia, while we were trying to navigate the fields, and i would take to the highway and risk the short cut back. the night was dark, very dark, having become more so than when we were on the way out. clouds had obscured almost every star, and, to make it still worse, we heard at times distant thunder. "the lowering elements scowled o'er the already darkened landscape," compelling us to almost grope our way along the old country road; but, luckily for us, we were now on the broad, well-traveled country road between two lines of fence, which served to keep us in the right course, as we cautiously felt our way with outstretched hands, and eyes peering into the darkness ahead, fearing every moment to come in contact with _something_ that would give us another "start." to the sounds of the thunder, which were not now so remote, were added occasional flashes of lightning; these, had i been at home in a comfortable bed, would probably have only produced the agreeable influence of lulling me into the enjoyment of a more snug sleep, but out there, on that road that night, the effect was quite different on both of us. we were yet a long way from our camp--how far we had no means of knowing, as our route into virginia had been somewhat circuitous, on account of the necessary avoidance of all the roads. pretty soon the big drops began to fall over us; the lightning flashes were more vivid and frequent; the thunder seemed to be all around us; then it rained in earnest, an old-fashioned, virginia, summer-night's rain, wetting the two miserable scouts to the skin in a little while. it was no use to look for shelter, and we both resolutely made up our minds to grin and bear it; pulling our hats down and shrugging up our shoulders, we sullenly tramped along that virginia highway, two as forlorn-looking objects as may be imagined. in this frame of mind we stumbled right into another road obstruction. we had come upon it in this raging storm from the rear, and found the place vacant. we captured the fort, which we could see from the now frequent flashes of lightning was simply a slight mound of earth thrown across and extending some distance to each side of the road, in the form of a rifle pit; embrasures were made for cannon, and through one of these peered a log, or stick of wood, shaped like an iron cannon, the rear end or breech of which was supported on a saw-horse platform of crossed sticks. on the crest of their "works" were placed some fence rails, while in front, and some little distance down, some trees had been felled over the road, their branches being stripped of the leaves to answer the purpose of an abatis. in the darkness, we were unable to discover any signs of the place having ever been occupied by the rebel forces. my companion recklessly began striking matches, which he had been able to keep in a dry place on his person, but, luckily for us, perhaps, had there been any one set to watch the place, and who might be only seeking a temporary shelter from the storm, his attempts to illuminate were frustrated by the gusts of wind and rain, which blew the light out as quickly as it was born. tired, wet, hungry and disgusted with ourselves, we sat down there in the enemy's camp to rest--if sitting on a log in a blinding rain-storm for an hour may be called resting--but we could do nothing else; the night was too dreadfully dark, and the wind and rain too blustering to allow us to safely travel on the winding roads, which lead through long strips of woods that seemed to paint everything, if possible, with a deeper gloom; beside this, we had discovered, by the lightning flashes, that the road in our front was blockaded by fallen trees, and the thought occurred to us that on this road there might be some rebel guards seeking protection from the storm in some sheltered places. my companion was so utterly discomfited and dejected that he refused positively to move a step further, saying: "i'm going to stay right here till somebody comes and takes me away. i don't care whether it's rebels or not." so we held the fort, he finally succeeding in lighting up a little fire against and under an old log that had covered some little twigs from the storm. "there's no danger of anybody coming out here to-night to see our fire, or bother us," said my comrade. "nobody would be as foolish as we are, to be caught out to-night." if we had been surprised in that condition, it's probable enough we could easily have palmed off the maryland refugee story, and have obtained credit for our self-sacrificing devotion, in trying to overcome such dreary difficulties in getting into the confederate lines. i reasoned that this would be all right for him, if i were only sure of not running across the chap who had seen me at general patterson's headquarters while i was presenting a letter from the secretary of war proposing the spy service. my companion, who had not so much to risk, continued growling: "why, if we should get to the river, or run across some of our pickets in this darkness, they'd be sure to go off at half-cock, and shoot us before we had a chance to say beans." this was a convincing argument with me. we were still between two fires. i agreed to wait for more light. i was anxious, however, that our officers should have the information we had obtained--that general joseph e. johnston's army _was not_ in general patterson's front, and the dreadful masked batteries, which were so much feared by our generals, were merely bush fortresses, thrown across the roads, or laid out shrewdly to deceive our officers. there were no soldiers and no cannon near them; and, moreover, the enemy was in communication _direct with general patterson's headquarters_, as we could prove, and probably knew all his plans, while he was wholly ignorant of the probable escape of johnston's whole force. as i sat there, like a disconsolate toad, on that log, in the pelting rain, i pondered these things in my mind, until i became so nervous that i could scarcely keep still. every moment was valuable. i determined to start again as soon as the rain would let up a little. but the elements seemed to be against us; it not only rained, but it poured, for the balance of the night, making the daylight later than usual. my companion became sleepy and dreadfully stupid, and was apparently lost to all fear for his own safety. my time was pretty much occupied in trying to keep our little bit of fire from going out. before i was fully aware of it, the grey daylight was mixing with the black, which was beginning to thin out as the rain slackened off somewhat. i soon began to distinguish objects in the landscape short distances away. a large farmhouse situated only a short distance to our rear was revealed, but being off the road, as is the custom in that country, we had passed it in our tramp along the road during the night. if there were any guard at all for that place, they were probably comfortably housed there while the storm raged without, but they would probably be aroused bright and early in the morning, to look after their wooden guns. i kept my eyes strained toward this house for some sign of life, but not seeing anything, not even smoke from the chimneys, nor a dog in the yard, i turned wearily for a lookout in the direction of our own country, to try and discover, if possible, how far we were yet from our friends. the rain had now ceased. my comrade, leaning against a log, was sleeping out loud; he didn't present a particularly attractive appearance, either; though a handsome young fellow, with black hair and eyes, and a fine form, he certainly was not a sleeping beauty; but, lying against a smoky old log, his eyes closed, but a capacious mouth hung wide enough open to have answered for the mouth of a cannon, the whole side of his face smeared with blood, that had oozed from the head, after the concussion over the hog, while the other half of his handsome face, being next to the smoky fire, over which he had been nodding in his sleep, was begrimed with the smoke and ashes that had adhered to his wet skin; the wet, dripping clothes were, of course, clinging to his manly form in anything but an attractive style. i felt that if i were nearly as ugly as he, the appearance of two such objects would be sufficient to frighten off anybody that might approach us, and i took renewed courage from this fact. i turned from the contemplation of this ludicrous scene to again take an observation. in the direction of our lines this time i thought i discovered something moving along the edge of the wood. i was about to conclude that i had been mistaken, when i was startled by the appearance of two men, standing together some distance below, apparently talking earnestly, as one of them pointed up the road toward our fort. i was in a condition of mind and body to be chilled by anything at that time, and imagined that we had been discovered and were being surrounded to prevent our escape. running back to my partner, i roughly shook him up, saying we had to move quickly. the stupid fellow, opening one eye, refused to stir. giving him another good shake, i again repeated the warning. he slowly realized his position, and stared wildly about. i dragged him over to where he might see the two men who were standing down the road, and endeavored to point out the danger; apparently not yet fully awake, he coolly crawled up on the felled tree, which was lying across the road, as if to get a better look at them, before i could pull him down. we were in for a run or a fight sure. i suppose my freely-expressed indignation at his absurd conduct had the effect of rousing him from his lethargy, as he seemed suddenly to come to his senses and was now ready to move off quickly enough. to be caught by the rebels attempting to go toward our line would put us in a bad plight. the men whom we had seen had disappeared at this ugly apparition on the log as suddenly as if the ground had opened and swallowed them up; whether they would come on up, or go for reinforcements, we didn't know. we evacuated that fort, our line of retreat being in a course bearing toward our own lines, and leading us further from the two men. we scampered through the wet underbrush and grass of the woods, every step being a slosh to the shoe-tops, while every bush dashed against our already well-soaked clothes all the water it had gathered in its leaves and branches from the rain of the night. early morning is the safest time for a scout to do his traveling, and we went straight along unimpeded, save by the wet undergrowth, and the disagreeable necessity of clambering over slimy old logs and fences, reaching the place where our pickets should have been while it was yet quite early. here we made a mistake. instead of attempting to pass back through our lines, as we had escaped out in the early evening previous, we thought that, being so tired, and wet, hungry, and so generally used-up, we might just as well approach boldly and surrender to our own pickets, knowing that we should be all right when once within our lines and our story of johnston's retreat was told. my companion being a member of a regiment that had performed picket duty, had some practical experience with the boys, and was, in consequence, quite uncertain as to the manner in which our flag-of-truce would be received by the men on guard; he said that, while on that duty himself, his instructions were to "fire at anything he saw moving, no matter what it was," and he was apprehensive the members of his own regiment would immediately bang away at us if we made an appearance out there. "but, we will show them a flag-of-truce." "oh, that's nothing; there's some fellows in my company crazy to shoot at something, and they don't know a white from a black flag." as it was daylight, there was no other way to get in, except by laying over in the woods till night, and this we couldn't think of doing in our miserable condition; beside this, we were hungry. feeling it to be a duty to risk even a fire from our own green pickets, to get in quickly with our information for general patterson, i concluded to try the flag-of-truce project. looking carefully about to see that we were not liable to an attack in the rear while making this advance, i picked up a stick in the woods, and tied to it, in the form of a flag, an exceedingly dirty, white handkerchief, and, after all was ready, with my hat in one hand, the flag well advanced in the other, i started out to make the communication, my comrade keeping close to me, there being no danger of tramping on a hog in broad daylight. we had scarcely gotten out of the woods when i began waving the old handkerchief so wildly that the stick broke in two, dropping the flag on the ground. i grabbed up the remnant, nervously, for fear they might fire, and again waved it as we moved forward. we saw a commotion among our men--one or two blue coats were running around, as if to report the phenomenon that appeared before them. walking ahead more rapidly, as we gained confidence from their not shooting at us, we were soon within hailing distance, and walked into their line nervously, and watched a half-dozen fellows clutching muskets which we knew were loaded, and might go off. suddenly we were surrounded by all the guard who were not on post, who were anxious to see some real live, repentant rebels come into the union again. that army had not yet seen a rebel. what a sorry looking couple we were to be sure. dirty faces, and bloody heads, smoked about the eyes in a manner to make us ludicrous indeed, our clothes wet, dripping wet; and clinging to our bodies in rags, our tramp through the bushes having almost torn them off us. the boys were cooking their early camp breakfast; through their kindness we each had some coffee and bread. i am a coffee-drinker now, and am, perhaps, a little cranky on the subject. i buy the best coffee, and have tried every patent coffee-pot that has ever been brought out, but i have not yet been able to find as delicious a cup of the beverage as was given me in a quart tin cup, with brown sugar and no cream, on the banks of the potomac, in july, . while we were enjoying the hospitality of the boys, all of whom were greatly amused at our absurd appearance, and interested in our night's adventure, which my companion could not resist the temptation of exaggerating to his friends, the officer of the guard had reported his catch to his colonel, who peremptorily ordered us into his presence. without allowing us an opportunity to wash or clean up, we were marched, like two prisoners, between two files of soldiers with fixed bayonets, through several camps, amid the laughter and jeers of the crowds which were attracted by the odd show. approaching the pennsylvania-dutch colonel's tent, we were ordered, in a rough, dogmatic way, to make an explanation of our being in the enemy's lines. i was offended at the rude manner of the officer, and my feelings had been sorely wounded by being marched in this humiliating way through his camp; being resentful, i spunkily informed the colonel that i should not report or explain anything to him; that my report would be to _his superior only_--general patterson. a crowd had gathered about us, whom the arrogant colonel had proposed to entertain by an exhibition of his authority and our discomfiture, and my speech so angered him that he was ready to run me through with his sword. he swore in pennsylvania-dutch, and again demanded my explanation, which i firmly declined to give. he was too angry to appeal to my comrade, but, in high military dudgeon, ordered us both to the guard-house, saying to the officer who had brought us there: "those two men had been on a drunk, and had been fighting each other, as any fool could see from their black eyes and bloody noses--put them both in the guard-house;" and he did. there we remained nearly all that day, denied, by the stupidity and offended dignity of the colonel, the permission i begged of being allowed to communicate with general patterson. i presume he sincerely believed we had been off on a regular jamboree _en tare_ during the night, but it was a terribly rough joke on me, and the second time during the first four months of the war that i had been held a prisoner by our own officers while engaged in the performance of an exceedingly dangerous duty for the benefit of the union cause. i again resolved, in my own mind, more firmly than before, that i should never again undertake any secret service. my interview with general patterson's chief-of-staff--fitz-john porter--on presentation of my note of introduction from the secretary of war, had been so unsatisfactory, that i naturally felt some misgivings as to the outcome of a second attempt in the same direction, particularly as this trip had not been authorized, but was, in fact, carried out independently and almost in opposition to the expressed disapproval of headquarters. i felt, too, that being escorted to the general's presence, between two soldiers from a guard-house, without the opportunity to repair my dress and appearance, would not help the doubting and disdainful chief-of-staff to a more favorable opinion of myself; and the recommendation the dutch colonel would be sure to send along with me would not be likely to create in the minds of the general's advisers a flattering opinion as to the reliability of our story. i could get no satisfaction from the officers in charge at the guard-house as to our ultimate disposition. in reply to my appeals to be permitted to report to headquarters in person, i was directed to state my case in writing, and it would be forwarded through the regular channels. i knew very well that this circumlocution meant delay--that in this case delays would be dangerous, as any papers filed would have to be inspected by the officer of the guard, the captain, colonel, brigadier and major general, probably requiring a day at each of these headquarters before it would reach the assistant-adjutant-general at headquarters. beside, i had no intention of submitting my special business to an inspection by every officer in camp before it should reach the proper authority, and so informed the officer who had been sent by the colonel to obtain from me information as to my business with the general. my comrade had been separated from me early in the day, and sent to his own company in arrest and disgrace; he had probably told his story to his own officers, who, knowing something of the young man, believed him, and in this way my case, which promised to be a lonely imprisonment for some days, was more speedily brought to the general's notice. the young officer who had been sent to gather from me the account of our trip seemed to be favorably impressed by my urgent prayer to be permitted to report to general patterson, and kindly offered to do all he could to gratify my desire. it was a long time, however, before i was able to hear from anybody outside of the sentry, who stood guard over me with a loaded musket. during all those anxiously waiting hours, when i lay in the guard-house, rebel general j. e. johnston was rapidly getting further away, or at least making himself more secure with fewer troops in his present position, and i was brutally denied the privilege of informing our headquarters of the facts we had obtained, after a night of hard work, danger and misery combined. at last, about p. m., i was notified to accompany my young officer to headquarters, to report. the young gentleman courteously granted me the privilege of washing and dressing myself up in the best way i could--he generously aiding me by the tender of a collar, brushes, etc. after a long walk, which was quite tiresome after the exercise of the night previous in the rain, we reached headquarters, where i was met at once by general porter, who politely enough heard my story through, questioning me closely as to several points in a manner which, i augured, showed some interest in the work we had undertaken. with a simple word of thanks he was ready to dismiss me, and the subject, as a matter of no consequence, when i ventured to ask his opinion as to the value of our researches. "well," he replied, "as i told you previously, the general does not place any reliance upon information of this character; we have had conflicting reports, and do not rely upon it." "but," i said, "it is undoubtedly true that there are no rebels near us." "but we have _reliable_ information to the contrary, and more recent than yours." this was indeed a stunner. how could it be. i was positive there had been no enemy near during the night, and mildly suggested that, if there were any rebels there, they had come while i was confined in the dutch colonel's guard-house. porter merely laughed in a patronizing way, as he dismissed me, saying: "you can make that report to washington; it won't do here. we know all about johnston." "well, one thing is sure, johnston knows all about you, too." i left headquarters in a frame of mind closely allied to frenzy. i was beginning to think that i must be crazy, because the general headquarter's atmosphere and style seemed to have about it an air of authority that could not be disputed; and when porter said he had information, _reliable and more recent_ than i had tried to give i began to feel that he _must_ be right, and we all wrong. walking off, dejectedly, but again free to go as i pleased, i hunted up my companion of the night before, to offer any assistance in my power to secure his release from confinement. i found his company, and had a general consultation with him, in the presence of some line officers, in which it was agreed that our report of the situation was generally believed throughout the army; but, said my comrade: "there were two other fellows out last night, and they came back right after we did, and reported that they had found a big fort on top of a hill; that there were camp fires blazing all around it, and six men jumped up on the works and chased them two miles." it flashed upon me in a moment, and i said, laughingly: "why they must be the two fellows we saw while in the fort, and that you scared off when you got up on that log." after a further comparison of notes, it was agreed by all that this was the more _reliable_ and recent information general porter had obtained. our little smoky fire had been magnified into a hundred rebel camp fires, and the blunder of my comrade in mounting the parapet had turned to our benefit, in frightening off two of our own scouts. we were not aware, however, that we had chased them through the wet woods--it being our purpose and intent to run away from them; and we believed we were going in an opposite direction all the time. i was abundantly satisfied with the night and day's experience; and leaving my friend to make any further explanations to general porter, or headquarters, i availed myself of the opportunity to take an evening train, which carried me to chambersburg, where among relatives and friends i was able to replenish my scanty wardrobe. the following sunday, first bull run was _fought_ and _lost_. there have been many reasons given the public, officially and otherwise, in explanation of this disaster, one of which has not been officially mentioned, and is in brief--that general patterson, through his chief-of-staff, persistently declined to avail himself of information concerning johnston's movements, that had been voluntarily obtained, after some hardships, by a scout, who had been endorsed to him by the secretary of war as being reliable and trustworthy. i have not seen general fitz-john porter since july, , that i know of. we all know he was a gallant soldier, whom i should honor as a native of my own state; but, without questioning his loyalty, i venture the opinion that general patterson (who was years old at that time) was by his (porter's) influence or over-caution prevented from pressing general johnston, as he had been ordered; and is, therefore, indirectly, responsible for johnston's timely reinforcement of beauregard, which made the rebel victory possible. and i believe the same over-caution or influence was brought to bear on general mcclellan at the critical hour at antietam, and prevented his following up the victory at that time. chapter ix. reporting to general banks' headquarters for duty--the life of jeff davis threatened--captured at harper's ferry--interesting personal letters corroborating the supposed death of the "boy spy." the sunday of july, ( st), on which the first battle of bull run was being fought, found me quietly recruiting from the tiresome adventure in virginia in the quiet little hamlet of pennsylvania, in which i was born, situated at the foot of the cove mountain, almost within hearing of the cannon. i had gathered from general porter's manner as well as from his words, while talking to me only a day previous, that a battle was not imminent, and this opinion was seemingly confirmed by my own observations both in the rebel country and while coming through general patterson's army. there were, to my mind, no signs of a movement among our forces; the two armies were too far apart to be quarrelsome; our headquarters presented an appearance of satisfied security. in our obscure village there were no telegraphs in those days, the mail facilities being limited to a daily trip of the relic or remnant of the old bedford stage-coach, which rambled into town on the monday evening following, and brought us the first intelligence of a battle--and a defeat which was being magnified every mile the old stage traveled into a terrible disaster. this startling news spread about the village like wild-fire, reached me at the tea-table, and, to my untrained, impulsive disposition, had pretty much such an effect as the lighting the fuse of a sky-rocket. i went off like a sky-rocket--disappeared in the darkness that night, lost to the sight of my friends for months. the rocket hovered over the rebel hosts so long that i was almost forgotten in the excitement of the time. i came back as suddenly as i had left, like the stick from the rocket that drops down from above. it is the purpose to tell in this chapter, for the first time, the secret story of those months in rebeldom, which has remained a mystery even to my family for twenty-five years. i had never intended to print these experiences, but hoped that i might find time, when i should grow older, to prepare for my children only, a memorandum of the trip. an hour after the receipt of the news, i was _en route_ for the nearest railroad station, at chambersburg, my first impression being that, as the rebels were victorious, they would, as a matter of course, move right on to washington city and drive the union officials off. entertaining this feeling, my first impulse was to get somewhere in their rear. i felt in my heart that _something_ must be done to prevent beauregard and jeff davis from driving us all out of the country, and i was frenzied enough at that time, by the excitement that was everywhere prevailing--overcoming the reason and judgment of the most conservative as well as the mercurial temperament--that, if an opportunity had presented itself, i might have been foolish enough to have attempted an assassination of jeff davis, sincerely believing, in my youthful enthusiasm and indiscretion, that such an act would serve to defeat their plans. that i entertained seriously and determinedly such a chimerical scheme will probably be surprising to those of my acquaintances now, but the confession will serve in a manner to explain some of my movements, which, at the time, puzzled even my best friends, who generously accounted for my queer actions by the indulgent--if not complimentary--reflection that i was a "reckless and adventuresome boy." the same night i reached chambersburg, and the next morning took the first train for hagerstown, maryland, where i learned there that harper's ferry was headquarters; and, as there were no public conveyances leading in that direction, in my eagerness to reach there i decided to walk ahead the same day. i tramped out through the same neighborhoods in which our camps had been located only a few days before, finding them nearly all deserted, and in the evening reached a farmhouse on south mountain, where, tired and sleepy after the fatigue and excitement of the day, i begged for shelter for the night, and was put to sleep in the garret with a son of the farmer, whom i found was in sympathy with the rebels. early the following morning i was again on foot, climbing the dusty mountain road. it was a long, tiresome walk, and, as i met with no signs of troops, i began to fear that i had gotten off the right road; toward evening my path led me through a valley or ravine, emerging from which i was suddenly brought into view of the river and hills about point of rocks, or perhaps it may have been near sandy hook. here i found plenty of soldiers, who were dotted around the hills so thickly. i had expected to report in person to general fitz-john porter, to gather further from him some advice as to the _reliability_ of his more _recent_ information about johnston's escape. i learned that general patterson had been relieved. general n. p. banks was in command, and had his headquarters in a tent on a little plateau above, but convenient to the railroad track and the river, from which he could look into the virginia hills, which were within rifle-shot of his tent. i had no letter of introduction to general banks, but, presuming upon my previous services, boldly ventured into his presence unannounced, except by the unarmed soldier who stood as an orderly outside of his tent. i was invited into the tent, where i found the general had been lounging or dozing on his camp bed. rising, as i entered, he apologized for the unkempt appearance of his quarters, shaking hands cordially as he invited me to a seat on a camp-stool. then sitting in front of me, looking straight into my eyes, i told him briefly my past experience with patterson and porter. he listened attentively and commented, in his affable way, on the disaster, and expressed, in a way that was most comforting to me, his belief that it would all end right anyway. i explained to general banks my supposed qualifications as a scout, being able to read the enemy's telegraphs, which immediately impressed him as quite an important feature, as it would enable me to procure reliable news from the highest sources of all information. i again volunteered to enter the enemy's lines in the guise of a maryland refugee and, if possible, attach myself to headquarters of rebels at manassas, or where there were telegraph instruments, without, of course, disclosing my knowledge of the mysterious art. the general thankfully accepted my proposal, and seemed eager that the service should be undertaken at once. his words to me, uttered in that deep but pleasant voice so familiar to american people: "well, now, i am right glad you have come to see me, sir." after a moment's reflection, he continued: "i have no definite instructions now. i beg that you will be kind enough to come and see me in the morning again; in the meantime i will try and arrange a plan." i presume the general desired--very properly--to make some inquiries as to my loyalty and past service. as i prepared to leave, he again took my hand, and in a kindly manner, which impressed me so pleasantly that i shall never forget it, as he bowed me out of his tent. "i am very glad too have met you, sir." how different from the reception i received from general patterson and his chief-of-staff. the balance of the evening i put in pleasantly enough after this agreeable reception in visiting the different camps in the neighborhood and in peering through the twilight over the potomac toward the virginia side, endeavoring to find a hole somewhere in the hills that i might get through safely. after the tiresome tramp on the dusty maryland pike, on that terrible hot july day, i was glad enough when night came to accept the supper and lodging that were offered--for a consideration--in an old half-stone and half-frame house, situated close by the river bank. the crowd of men who were gathered about the old house were dressing for dinner, or supper, out in the yard; using an old stump for a toilet stand and the lye soap (which had been manufactured by some sort of process through the barrel of ashes that stood on a sloping bench close by), and, throwing my hat and coat on the limb of a gooseberry bush, i plunged into the water, like the rest; but i reckon they all thought i was putting on airs when i declined to use the one towel that had served for all, using instead a dirty pocket handkerchief on my face. the next morning i was out bright and early. unfortunately for me, but perhaps better for the story, i was just too late to see the general, who had ridden off but a few minutes before i reached his headquarters on a general tour of inspection through the army. the orderly did not know when he would return, or, if he did, was not disposed to tell a stranger of his intentions; but, it was intimated that i should hardly be able to see him at headquarters again during the day. as i turned to walk away, undecided as to the next step i should have to take, an officer observed in a jocular way: "you might see the general up there," as he pointed to the highest peak of the hill. he imagined that the unforbidding appearance of this height would deter me from an attempt at climbing it, but the hint was sufficient. i at once made up my mind, excelsior like, to crawl over the rocks and blackberry bushes to the very top of the mountain to find the general, and, if he were not there, i should at least have the satisfaction of being able to see all over the country without walking any further. from the top of maryland heights, while sitting alone a short distance in the rear of one of our masked batteries, the guns of which were pointed over the river so as to cover the broad plateau above the old town, i looked in vain for some appearance of rebels on the other side of the river. there was not to my eye, which i flattered myself was pretty good and educated to the sight of rebels, any appearance of life, either on the valley side or on the opposite mountain, which were quite heavily wooded. i formed from that point of observation a plan to cross the river and climb up on the other hill or mountain, thinking, perhaps, i might have a more satisfactory outlook from that point. not finding the general, i retraced my steps down the mountain in the direction of the town of harper's ferry. there was at that time a temporary railroad bridge over the potomac, over which i was able to pass the guard on pretence of being a railroader. once in the village, i looked about for an opportunity to get over the shenandoah river, which was yet between me and the big hill i desired to climb. i had fully determined in my own mind, after the experience with the running mate or companion of the former adventure, that i should not attach myself to anyone or permit any association in future movements, but the pleasure of meeting with a pleasant friend overcame my resolution, and about the first thing i did after becoming well acquainted was to propose that we should together go over the shenandoah and climb that big hill, to try if we couldn't "see something" by daylight. my newly found chum eagerly assented to the proposal, and, as i have previously said, for me to decide was to act, in those days. it was expected that we should be able to return before dark, and i hoped in an indefinite way that i might be able to bring back to general banks, when i should see him in the evening, some information that would impress him with the idea that i was competent to undertake and to carry out the plan of going through our own and the enemy's lines to washington. in my first talk with general banks, to whom i was an entire stranger, he had made a remark about a decision to issue no authority to go outside of his lines, to which i had replied that i did not ask any passes; that, if he wanted to avail himself of the service, i should be able to get outside ours and inside the rebels' lines, and did not want to carry any paper passes. my chum and i followed the same tactics in crossing the shenandoah that we had practiced in crossing the potomac on the former occasion. with an apparent intention of bathing we found a good place to "go in," as we boys used to say about swimming time; undressing in a careless way, we were soon splashing about in the shallow water in sight of our pickets. it was a hot, sunny july day, and at our bathing place the sun poured down upon that portion of our bare skin that was exposed above the water his fiercest rays. this fact served as a pretext to ask the guard's permission to cross over to the shade on the other side. the permission was reluctantly obtained. bundling up our clothes we waded over the slippery rocks, in sight of our picket on the shore. once well over the river, which is neither deep nor wide, we puttered about the other shore long enough to allow any one who had felt disposed to watch our movements to become satisfied that we were only out for a little fun. during all this time, however, we had slowly, almost imperceptibly, moved further and further away; and, upon reaching a portion of the bank almost covered with willows and undergrowth, we silently stole away from the water, and, like a pair of guilty boys escaping from an orchard, we ran as fast as possible through the undergrowth along the side of a road which led up a little stream that emptied into the river. we were again in virginia, but this time in daylight; and, hastily putting on our clothes, i, for the first time, took note of the unfortunate circumstance that my comrade's clothes were all of the regulation blue of the union army, which would be difficult to reconcile with our stereotyped story of being maryland refugees, in case we should be captured. we satisfied our fears on this point by the hasty conceit that we were not going to be caught on this trip, as we only proposed to climb to the top of the big hill. ascending bolivar or london heights is like climbing up the others, and has been well described. when we reached the summit, we found a clearing of a couple of acres which had the appearance of having been very recently occupied, and the discovery of the ashes and blackened places on the rocks where camp-fires had been--we knew not how recently--burning served to make us the least bit nervous. we were disappointed in the expected view of the rebel armies, as the heavy growth of trees in that direction wholly obstructed the view; but we were rewarded with a most satisfactory observation of our own troops and camps on the maryland side of the river. satisfied with having scaled the mountain, and a little bit uneasy, we soon began our descent, taking a different course from that we had followed in coming up. when we had about reached the road that leads along the water at the base of the heights, my chum startled me by grabbing frantically at my leg as i was about to climb over the fence into the road, shrieking, like a scared girl: "there's a man." and before i had time to look in the direction indicated, he continued, excitedly: "great scott! there's a whole lot of them." he started to run back as fast as his legs would carry him, leaving me almost pinned to the fence with astonishment. his movement had the immediate effect of causing a half-dozen armed men to rush suddenly from their ambush, straight down the road toward us. my companion, in grabbing me by the leg as a fierce dog would a tramp getting over the fence, for the moment so startled me that i lost my head, and, thinking something was coming at us from behind, i jumped over the fence toward the danger while he ran off on the other side. [illustration: "thank god, i'm safe among my friends."] on finding myself confronted by three rebels in uniform, two of whom had guns, the third, being an officer, gesticulated in a threatening, inelegant sort of style with the hand in which he carelessly held a cocked revolver; i at once walked toward them and, with a suddenly assumed air of relief, said: "thank god, i am safe among my friends." this vehement observation rather nonplussed the officer, who, seeing that i was unarmed, walked up to me and accepted my outstretched hand in a dazed sort of way. he hurriedly directed the men to follow my entreating comrade, saying, as they ran down the road: "remember, now, you are not to fire unless you meet a lot." i was rejoiced to hear this, and at once told the officer that my comrade, like myself, had intended to come into their army, but he was scared and ran because he thought they were our own scouts. "are you both yankee soldiers?" i repulsed the base insinuation with scorn, and told him we were both dying to join the rebel army. "but that fellow has on the blue uniform." sure enough, i had forgotten all about that, but told him that was no difference--that half the men in banks' army were only waiting a favorable chance to come over and join them. the officer, who was a conceited fellow, who had been placed in charge of the pickets or cavalry scouts on this outpost for the day, eagerly swallowed this stuff. it will be remembered that at this time--only a week after their victory at bull run--the rebels were prepared to believe almost anything reported to them from our side and were, of course, somewhat lax in their scrutiny of refugees, who were actually going over the line daily to unite their fortunes with those of the south, whom they were sure after the first battle must be victorious. we had quite a pleasant talk as we stood together by the roadside awaiting the result of the chase of my comrade. it was explained by the officer that their instructions were not to fire except in certain emergencies; the object of their being there was to quietly observe the operations of the yankees from their points of lookout on the heights, from which a full view of everything transpiring on our side was to be had. this was an item of news from the rebel officer which i should like general banks to have been advised of. he further astonished me by saying: "we have been watching you two fellows all the afternoon; we saw you cross the river, and when you came up the hill our men up there came in and reported that you were two scouts, and could be captured, so i was sent down here to gather you in." i was able to force what i am afraid was rather a sickly laugh at this exhibition of our "prowess," and, as a further earnest of our good intentions, i volunteered to accompany the officer down the road, with a view of meeting my running comrade and signaling him it would be all right to come in. accepting this service, we walked rapidly together in the direction taken by the two men with guns, but as all three had stopped to hear my story, my chum had probably been making good time along _his_ side of the fence, which, with the undergrowth, had served to keep him out of sight, and had stretched the distance between him and the rebels, but, as the river was still to ford, i feared, for my own safety, that he might yet be captured. we had not gone far when we met the two men returning alone. to the eager questioning of the officer the foremost one replied: "we been down to the river and he ain't thar." the second rebel joining in, said: "that fellow's in the woods, sure--he never went to the river." after a little consultation, in which i took part, it was decided to wait and watch till he should come out of his hole. with a view to making myself more solid with the officer, i volunteered to assist in the hunt by proposing to call loudly on my friend to come out of his hiding place and join us. the proposition was, in a courteous manner, conditionally accepted, the officer being fearful that any loud calls might be heard by the yankee's outposts and endanger their secluded outlooks, advised that i should be moderate in my outcry. climbing up on the fence and putting both hands to my mouth to form the trumpet boys use when hallooing to their playmates, i sang out as loudly as i could, "h-e-l-l-o-o-a, b-o-b!" all eagerly listened for the echo in reply, but i, fearful that he might answer, continued in the next breath: "all right," and as i forced a little choking cough, to disguise and smother the words, like the robber in fra diavalo, "come on!" all waited quietly for an answer, but only the echo "on" came back. bob was too far off to have heard my voice, and i realized i had been left alone in the hands of the rebels. i was a prisoner. there is among some old letters that my sister has religiously preserved--one from a stranger, signed with bob's correct name and address, describing in feeling terms our adventure, and my capture, bewailing my sad fate, and tendering his heartfelt sympathy, pretty much in the same form of letters from comrades in the field, which became frequent in the families of the north and south announcing the death or capture of sons and brothers, in which it is stated that, as my companion heard shots after he left me, and he supposed, of course, i had been killed. i may as well state that this letter was written by mr. c. w. hoffman, who is now a resident of latrobe, pennsylvania. comrade hoffman served subsequently with distinction as a scout, being detailed as one of a party to approach fort sumter previous to the attack made there. a pleasant renewal of the old war acquaintance has recently been brought about. i give herewith a recent letter from mr. hoffman: latrobe, penn., march , . j. o. kerbey. _dear old friend:_ i often thought of you. i learned your present address from your brother at wilmore. what are you doing? let us hear from you. i am the fellow that run away from you on the mountains, in virginia, in august, . i went on quite a distance that day. i slept on that mountain all night. the next day i returned to the hotel at sandy hook. i had quite a time of it: i saw several rebel cavalrymen, but i always made it a point to keep out of their way, as i had the blue pants and blouse on. those fellows made their headquarters next to where you made the inquiries at the old woman's log house. it was a wonder they did not take me a prisoner, as at times i wandered out in the country very barely. wasn't there a rebel camp near leesburg, or was that the name of the town near that mountain? i suppose it is about eight miles from harper's ferry. i could hear drums beating plainly--i was not far from the town. i had quite a time of it when i returned to sandy hook--i was arrested as a spy, was thrown into the guard house, but finally got out all right. i was a scout and had papers to show to that effect, but never did much at it. hoping to hear from you. yours truly, c. w. hoffman. as a further evidence of the correctness of my narrative, and with a view of adding interest to the story, i publish herewith a private letter from my brother, spencer, who was at that time in the military telegraph service. my aunt ruth, to whom it was addressed, and who was a mother to us both, passed many sleepless nights on account of my wanderings, has recently resurrected some interesting testimonials. camp union, near bladensburgh, md.,} september th, . } _dear aunt:_ by some unaccountable reason your letter was delayed. it was handed me by an "orderly" this evening. i presume it's beyond the possibility of a doubt that poor joe was killed at sandy hook. my grief can better be imagined than described. none but those who have suffered the severing of ties of a loving brother's affection can form an idea of my heart's affliction. my dear sisters, how deeply and sincerely i sympathize with them in the deplorable loss of an ambitious brother. that letter must have almost broken hatty's heart. it must have been a violent shock to father, but why should i so write and rouse within all of you the bitter renewal of your grief? we have for our support, that brother joe fell nobly in the cause of his country, lamented by an affectionate and loving family, relatives and friends. it is to be hoped that when the keen sensibilities of our passions begin to subside that these considerations will give us comfort. i pray that the almighty may give us (particularly father) fortitude to bear this severest of strokes, is the earnest wish of a brother in affliction, spencer. chapter x. at beauregard's headquarters--on duty at manassas. i didn't report to general banks _that_ night--circumstances entirely beyond my control prevented me from doing so. i was, by the "fortunes of war," or my own carelessness, denied the privilege of proving to the general that i was "smart" enough to get through his own lines and back again from the enemy's country without the use of passes from his headquarters. if this should reach the eye of general banks, he will, for the first time, read my official report of the scout, which i had proposed to him in july, , and will, i am sure, in his courteous manner, accept, even at this late date, this apology or explanation for my failure to keep my engagement with him. luckily for me, at that particular time i did not have in my possession any passes from general banks, or letter of introduction from the secretary of war, endorsing me as a competent spy. these i had left with general patterson a few days previously. leaving the two soldiers to further look after the road, in hope of enticing my friend in--not that they were so anxious for the person of a prisoner--but, as they said, it was important no one should escape to report the fact that a station for observation was being maintained on the heights. alongside of my officer i walked for quite a long distance, talking in a general way upon the subject which was then uppermost in everybody's mind--_i. e._, the recent battle of bull run. for good reasons, i heartily agreed with his absurd conclusions. i knew full well the importance of creating upon his mind the impression that i was a _bona fide_ refugee, and with the instinctive shrewdness partly born of my former experience i was successful in fully satisfying the officer that the southern army had secured another hearty supporter, or zealous recruit. it was scarcely possible to undo the thing at that time, as the whole south were wild in their enthusiasm after bull run, and to this fact i may partially ascribe my escape from detection and execution. the only fear that i entertained was, that i might meet either with some maryland refugees who might cross-question me too closely, or perhaps i might again encounter the rebel spy i had met at general patterson's headquarters; or, worst of all, that some of those pensacola troops, or texas acquaintances, might have been transferred to beauregard's army, and would recognize me. a captive is always an object of curiosity. i must expect to be gazed upon, stared at, and scrutinized wherever i should be taken. i might explain away any objections that would offer to the refugee story, as there was no evidence existing that i had recently acted the part of a scout; but the fort pickens episode could not be so explained. the mere discovery of my identity meant a speedy hanging, without the form of a court-martial. i believe i have not yet tried to describe my personal appearance at that time. i had, from a mere lad, been wearing my hair long, combed back of my ears; despite the jeering remarks of my companions, my "back hair" reached my shoulders, where, truth compels me to admit, it lay in better curls than buffalo bill's, texas jack's, or, more recently, that of "jack crawford," the cow-boy scout. probably my long hair was in part accepted by the rebels as an evidence that i naturally belonged to the south, where the style was more common than in the north. it will be remembered, too, in extenuation of my fancy, that i had spent the previous winter in texas, the climate of which is favorable to the growth of hair on the cow-boys. my dress, at the time of our surprise, consisted simply and only of a fine, colored, traveling shirt with open rolling collar, red loose necktie, dark trousers, and a coat of the same, topped off by a small, soft, slouch hat; of course, i had shoes which were pretty well worn, and my feet had become quite sore from so much walking. this was not a very complete wardrobe out of which to fashion a costume for a disguise. my face had become very much sun-burned, and, in bathing, while exposed to the hot sun, my shoulders had become blistered, so that the flannel or cloth overshirt peeled the skin off in a most uncomfortable way. reaching the advance of the rebel outposts, which were located at an old house--half farm and half tavern--situated on the bank of the little stream at the ford or point where the highway or pike crossed which led to manassas, we found assembled quite a number of rebel cavalry soldiers, who were entertaining in their exuberant, self-satisfied way, quite a crowd of civilians who had been attracted to the place. into this group of eager, inquisitive rebels i was, to their surprise, introduced as a "prisoner who wanted to join our army." it may be surmised that i had, with as great eagerness as themselves, anxiously glanced among the faces, that were all turned towards us as we approached, to discover if among them were any whom i had ever seen before. providence, on this occasion at least, was not "on the side of the heaviest battalion," but with the solitary "refugee," who breathed a sigh of relief upon failing to discover one familiar face. unfortunately for my peace of mind, there were among the civilian visitors to these soldiers one of those pompous virginian 'squires of middle age who, though attired in a fancy grey uniform coat and civilian's pants and hat, was not, i was informed, really in their service. the patronizing manner peculiar to this class of gentlemen was, by reason of his age, indulged by the young officer in command, who permitted him to dictate, like a country 'squire, the manner in which the "culprit" should be disposed of. it was arranged by my captors, through this meddlesome old 'squire's influence, that i should be escorted to general beauregard as a prisoner, leaving for him or his officers to decide upon the advisability of accepting my story and services. the pompous old virginia militia colonel was merely gratifying his own selfish vanity by securing me as his prey, proposed to take me in his buggy direct to the general, whom he wished to communicate with personally. "how is it that your companion in the uniform ran away on the approach of our troops?" said the old wind-bag, addressing me in a manner so haughty that i immediately resented it, and replied in a tone that some of the bystanders rather enjoyed: "oh, he was one of the bull run fellows; i am not responsible for him." i did not relish the idea of going into general beauregard's presence in this old colonel's charge, lest he might, in trying to magnify his own importance, so represent my capture as to create in the minds of the officers at headquarters a suspicion or doubt as to my motive. the young officer was convinced that i was o. k., and to him i privately expressed the wish that he would not report me an unwilling prisoner, or that i had tried to escape, assuring him that if such had been my intention i could easily have accomplished it. he agreed with me, and, at my further request, actually gave me, privately, a little note to present in my own defense, if i should need it. so it came about that i shared the hospitality of the virginia gentleman's buggy, as we drove along the road that evening _en route_ to general beauregard's headquarters with a pleasant note of introduction from a rebel officer in my pocket, in which was recited his belief that i had voluntarily entered the lines as a refugee. we spent the night in that vicinity, at some neighbor's farmhouse. when the old gentleman and i were again alone on the road, i began to work on his patriotism a little, but it was not exactly a success. his manner was not congenial at all. he had with him a fine english repeating rifle, which he placed between us, with the butt resting on the floor of the buggy, and, as we drove along that day, i had it in my mind for the first time in my life to commit a murder. as we were slowly ascending one of the mountains, i remarked to the colonel that i believed i'd walk up the mountain, stretch my legs, and relieve the horse for awhile, when he glanced at me and, with a hateful, overbearing sneer on his face, said: "you wont get out of this buggy until i put you into general beauregard's hands." i felt a wicked sensation dart through me that i had never before experienced, and instinctively my own eyes rested on the gun; the colonel saw my face, and reached for his gun not a moment too soon; my self-possession came to me, and i merely said: "you're not driving a nigger now." i still had my loaded pistol concealed in a belt under my clothes. i had acquired while in texas the southern accomplishment of learning its use, and was expert and quick enough to have put its contents in the blatant old fool's ear, and would probably have done so had i not been restrained by the fear that the report would bring about us a crowd of rebels. for an hour after this incident we drove along in sullen silence. i felt in my soul that i was being driven like a condemned criminal to the gallows, and this old colonel was merely my hangman, whom i ought to shoot like a rat. after cool reflection i concluded that, with the officer's note in my possession, i would be able to counteract any unfavorable impressions he might try to make. i had not attempted to commit any act in virginia that he could prove which would operate against me. the only matter i had to fear was the discovery of my identity as the person who had played the spy in florida; but as that was many hundred miles away, i felt that i was comparatively safe. beside this, i wanted most earnestly to see general beauregard myself, and to visit his army at manassas, and pretended that i was glad to have the use of the old man's buggy, instead of having to trudge along on foot. the approach to the outskirts of the rebel army was evident from the frequent appearance of men in gray clothes, who were apparently straggling along the road bound to their homes. a great many of them seemed to have formed the conclusion that, having whipped the yankees at bull run, the war was over, or, if it wasn't, it ought to be, and they could return to their homes in peace, at least until wanted again. at certain points along the highway, such as bridges, toll-gates and cross-roads, we were halted by guards, who, like the stragglers, were quite communicative to our colonel, and were of the general opinion that there was no longer any necessity for any particular stringency in enforcing orders, as the war would soon be over; we were, in consequence, permitted to drive ahead without delay. my old colonel had taken occasion at several points to call attention to his "prisoner" in a patronizing way. i was pleased and encouraged to note that the air of importance with which the old man attempted to surround himself did not evoke the laudation that he expected. as we drove up to a house by the roadside to water the horse, i mildly suggested that i should like an opportunity to wash some of the dust and perspiration from my face and brush up a little before being presented to the general. my guardian angel, probably thinking it would serve his purpose better to show me up in as unfavorable an appearance as possible, bluntly refused to accord me this privilege, saying, as he drove off: "i'm in a hurry to get there, as i don't want to have you on my hands all night." we were now close to the railroad tracks, along side of which were numerous camps, or those that had been abandoned for more comfortable location out toward the front. i need not tell old soldiers how uncomfortable and desolate the rear or outskirts of an army are, especially in the miserable country about manassas. the roads were crowded with all sorts of vehicles, from artillery and ammunition wagons, driven by colored boys and guarded by frisky black-horse cavalrymen, to the two-wheeled carts run by decrepit old colored people who were peddling "truck" for the benefit of their virginia-yankee owners, whom, by the way, the real southern people from the south said at that time were worse than any other sort of yankee. of course the road was dusty--virginia roads are either dusty or muddy, and, being so much crowded, our progress became a little slow. as we drove along through that rebel army that evening, i am sure there was not a face in all the crowd that i did not eagerly scan, in nervous anticipation of meeting some one who might recognize me. when the old man was told we were off the road to headquarters, i felt as much annoyed as himself at the delay in reaching general beauregard's headquarters. i observed particularly an entire absence of anything that looked like preparations for an advance. of this i became more satisfied the further on we got, both from the appearance of men traveling to the rear and from the careless appearance of the troops toward the front. artillery was parked in shady places; the horses were not corralled close to the guns; in fact, everything was very much in the same disordered condition that i had observed in our army. about an hour before sundown we reached beauregard's headquarters. as we drove up to the fence the old man hailed a colored boy, and bade him tie his horse; then, turning to me with a smile of relief, he said: "here we are; get out!" i obeyed with an alacrity that caused him to stare at me in wonder, as he stretched his sleepy legs and got out after me, walking beside me with his gun in hand until suddenly halted by a sentry on guard, to whom my virginian said: "i want to see general beauregard," and proceeded to walk ahead, as if he was a privileged character, but the sentry called down the old fool's dignity by peremptorily ordering him to "halt," as he brought his gun to a carry. there were some sharp words spoken, but the guard understood his business, and gave the old man his first lesson in military etiquette, that no doubt lasted for all the war. an officer near by, who had been attracted by the slight rumpus, approached the sentry, who properly saluted him, and, in answer to the officer's questions, began to give an account of the trouble, but had barely begun to speak when the old farmer, swelling like a turkey-gobbler, ignoring the soldier, and endeavoring to talk over the head of the officer, in a loud voice said: "i want to see general beauregard _at once_, and i'll have this fellow punished for insulting a gentleman." the officer, who was a gentleman, mildly suggested that the man had been only doing his duty and obeying orders, but my friend's choler was up and, refusing all explanations, demanded an immediate interview with the general. the officer now began to get mad and, in a commanding tone, inquired: "what is your business, sir, with the general?" to which the old gentleman replied: "i will explain my business when i see the general." "well, sir, you will have to give me your name and the nature of your business, and i will advise you as to the general's pleasure." "my name, sir, is colonel ----, of virginia, by gad; and my business is to turn over a prisoner whom we caught prowling in our county, sir; there he stands, right there, sir." turning to look at me, the officer said to the colonel: "well, you should escort your prisoner to the provost-marshal. general beauregard is not entertaining prisoners." after a few more passages at arms it was settled that i should be left in charge of the guard while the _colonel_ and the _general_ had an interview. while he was telling _his_ story to general beauregard, which, i suspect, referred more to the "insult" to himself than to my dangerous character, the officer, who had returned to me, politely said something about "old fools." i agreed with him, and took occasion to add my mite of experience with the old fool, and saying that i had merely come from a patriotic impulse from my own home to do something for _the country_, but had been treated with so much indignity by this old man i was sorry i had left home. in his state of mind my interpretation of the story had a most agreeable effect, which was further strengthened by the note from the officer who had captured me. as soon as he read this, turning to me, he politely asked to be excused, as he returned to the general who was being bored to death by my colonel. in a moment more general beauregard and my colonel made an appearance, the latter still talking earnestly. the general was bare-headed, his coat unbuttoned, and presented to my vision the appearance of a pleasant jewish gentleman. he looked at me while the old gas-bag was exhausting itself, but did not speak a word either to me or the colonel until my young officer spoke up and said: "i think, general, i had better relieve this gentleman of the responsibility of the care of the young marylander," at the same time handing to the general the note i had given him. general beauregard again looked at me as he finished reading it, and, turning to the officer, said: "yes, yes, that will do." and bidding the colonel a good evening, as he excused himself, walked off. it must not be thought that the virginia colonel believed, or for an instant suspected my true character; _his_ only object was to secure some attention for himself by pressing me upon the general personally; and his own egotism defeated his purpose, to my very great relief. the colonel being thus summarily disposed of, the officer, who introduced himself to me as an aide to general beauregard, began to apologize for my ungracious reception in the southern army. i told him my desire was to connect myself with some of the baltimore refugees, and i was informed that i should have the opportunity soon; but at that time i think there were no distinct maryland organizations in their army. when i suggested that, as i was without money, i must work to earn a living, i meekly observed that being a railroader at home i should like an opportunity to be employed somewhere in that capacity, as i should be able to do justice to myself and my employers better there than elsewhere until i could be able to unite with the army. "just the thing; we need experienced men on the roads here now as much as we require soldiers," and, turning to an orderly, he directed him to accompany me to a certain official who had charge of the railroad transportation with the _request from general beauregard that his services be availed_ of, as he is an experienced railroad man. it was after dark when i became finally located, and, singular as it may seem, i was that night an occupant of a couch in the railroad depot, _within sound of the telegraph instruments operating between manassas and richmond_, and this by _express_ authority of _general beauregard_, instead of being a prisoner in a guard-house waiting for execution. i have been careful to give all the details of this day at perhaps tedious length, not that it was interesting, but because of the bearing on the subsequent events, which i believe are as remarkable as anything yet recorded in the secret service of the war. chapter xi. important documents intercepted at manassas, which established the fact that the rebel army had no intention, and were not able to advance after manassas--the rebel army demoralized by success, and twenty-five per cent. absent from epidemic--on the field after the battle--observation inside rebel camps--talking with richmond by wire--captured by rebel picket in sight of the signal lights at georgetown college. i was always particularly careful to conceal from every one with whom i was in contact when scouting that i was an expert telegrapher. as such i was able, without any apparent effort at listening on my part, or in any way indicating by my manner that i was paying any attention to the monotonous clicking of the instruments, to interpret every word or signal that they gave out. i had studied this part carefully, realizing fully that upon my successful concealment of this accomplishment everything depended. i now found myself--through a train of events that seemed almost providential--in exactly the position inside the rebel armies from which i could best accomplish the objects that i had set out to undertake when i first presented the secretary's letter to general patterson and general porter. i might have been there before the battle, if fitz-john porter had not delayed me. a few days after, i was at the old shanty of a railroad depot from which the trains and telegraph communication were had with richmond, gordonsville, and the valley; the armies of generals beauregard and johnston were encamped some distance in advance of this point, but my situation was exactly suited to my purpose, which was to intercept communication over the wire to and from richmond between the rebel government and their generals in the field. i might learn more by sitting still or loafing around listlessly in one day at that point than could be accomplished by a week's tramp through every camp of the rebel army. when i reached the railway station, in charge of one of general beauregard's orderlies, it was quite dark. the gentlemanly rebel soldier, at the direction of the staff officer, escorted me thither from headquarters, politely presented me to the agent or officer in charge, as a "maryland refugee, whom general beauregard had sent to him to make use of until such time as he could join with some other marylanders, who were to come in soon." i was also further recommended as having been connected with railroads in the north, and, continuing, he said: "mr. wilmore" (i had assumed my mother's maiden name) "is willing to undertake any work you may have for him." "yes," i spoke up; "i shall be obliged for any employment that will enable me to even earn my rations until i can meet with some friends, whom i expect." i was cordially received and hospitably entertained as one of the exiled refugees from "maryland, my maryland;" in fact, i became somewhat embarrassed by the generous attentions that the attachés about the place were disposed to give me, on account of my being a youthful exile from home. the station-house was an old frame structure, such as one sees on second-class railways in a new country. one portion was assigned to the offices, in which were crowded together the ticket-sellers, the agent, clerks, and the three telegraph operators. there had not, of course, entered into the plans of the builder of the road and station-houses any calculations for the increased facilities demanded by the presence of a large army at that point, and, necessarily, everything was exceedingly cramped and crowded, which uncomfortable fact served all the better for my purposes. there was a squad of rebel soldiers detailed at the depot for the protection of property and to guard the employés. the measly old shanty was more correctly termed a "depot" than are some of those elegant railroad structures which have recently been erected over the country, which, properly speaking, are "stations," even if located at a city terminus--a depot being correctly defined as a storehouse, or base of supplies for an army. this depot, like all the country stations, had a broad platform around two sides of it. at the rear of the office portion was a window looking out on this platform. inside of the office, against the wall, immediately under this window, was an old deal table or shelf, on which was placed two complete sets of morse instruments, while scattered about over this desk in a telegraphic style was a lot of paper neatly done up in clips, an old inkstand, half a dozen pens, short pieces of lead pencils, while behind the instruments a meerschaum pipe nestled in a cigar box half filled with tobacco. there were a couple of glass insulators for paper weights, and an immense six-inch glass jar, or battery cup, which the operators used for a drinking cup. the fact that this cup had recently composed part of his battery and contained a strong solution of nitric acid, did not, that i ever noticed, deter the thirsty telegrapher from taking a long swig out of it after "jimmy," the little messenger, should bring it in full of water fresh from the spring. the wires, covered with woven thread, were leading down the sides of the window, under the table, where they were taken up in an inexplicable net, and drawn through gimlet holes in the desk, and curled into their proper place in the instruments. one of these instruments communicated with all the railroad stations on toward gordonsville and the valley; the other was the direct line of communication with richmond, and as this machine did most of the business, its voice, or tone, was permitted to sound the loudest, and partially drowned the other; but if an operator's educated ear detected the signal for attention from the railroad instrument, he could, by a mere twitch of the finger, accord it the prominent place, until its wants were attended to. all the telegraph operators engaged there were clever gentlemen, who were, of course, as full of the southern enthusiasm as were their soldiers, and to the end gave to their cause that zeal and devotion, protecting, as far as lay in their power, the important secrets and confidences which necessarily passed through their hands, without a single instance of betrayal of the trust. like the telegraph corps of the union army, they served without rank, and for small pay, and no hope of achieving for themselves any of the glory of war. to-day the army telegraphers are not even accorded the privilege granted enlisted men and teamsters. their names are, unfortunately, not enrolled among those of the "grand army." of course, i cultivated the friendship of the boys; i flattered myself that i knew some of their vulnerable points and was able to approach them in the proper way. what operator has not been "made sick" by the stereotyped observation of visitors, who so often observe, with a superior air, perhaps, while he is showing his girl the telegraph office for the first time, while questioning the courteous and long-suffering operator as to the never ending "curiosities of the telegraph?" "i once began to learn to telegraph, and knew the alphabet, and could write ever so many words, but i gave it up." too bad they all give it up. i've heard the remark in my time on an average of about once a week for twenty-five years, from educated men, too, and have been just that often made sick at the stomach. any school boy can learn the alphabet from his book on philosophy; so he can learn the alphabet of the greek, but it requires close application for months to make a mere "operator," and it usually takes years to make a telegrapher, while those who have studied the art and science of electricity longest say they know the least of its wonderful possibilities. the very first act on my part was to question in this way the operator who was on duty the next morning. i had proposed to the station-master to sweep out for him, and endeavored, in a general way, to make myself a man of all work about the place, so that i might be allowed to remain there instead of being put on the road as a brakeman. with a broom in my hand, i observed to the operator, who was at that moment leaning over and peering under his desk cleaning his local battery, or rather bossing an old negro who was down on his knees trying to do this work for him: "i came near being an operator once." i had not time to say that i had learned the alphabet when the young man straightened himself up and pleasantly observed: "the _hell_ you did." i turned my back and began sweeping vigorously, and, if the young man had seen my face, it would have shown a suppressed laugh instead of anger. that remark fixed him. i know that he for one would never suspect me of being an operator. as the old colored uncle was not doing his work properly at the local, i volunteered to help; and, taking hold of the wires, i handled them in a clumsy way that was amusing to myself, and, under his direction, for my willingness to aid, i was told that i should have the nasty job of cleaning battery every day after that. the first day passed without anything of especial interest occurring until about sundown, when a message which i had not heard was received for "headquarters." it was the duty of one of the mounted orderlies to deliver all messages, but at that time there did not happen to be any orderly about, and, noting their hunt for one, i volunteered to perform the duty and on foot. my services were accepted without question, and i became the bearer of a dispatch to the rebel headquarters. the operator placed in my hands an enveloped message for an officer whose name i have forgotten, but it was addressed to the "headquarters of the army," remarking, as he carelessly handed it to me: "it's an important message from richmond and must be answered right away, or i should let it lie over until one of those orderlies got back, because it's an awful long walk from here." anxious to get the important paper in my hands, i did not think or care for that at all, and told him with an earnestness that i could hardly suppress that i'd rather walk a little than lay around there idle so much, especially as i hoped by getting out to be able to meet some of my maryland friends in the camps. they all looked upon my proposal as being prompted by my zeal or my "willingness" to be of any service possible to the cause generally and the telegraph people personally. the rebel armies had been advanced somewhat during the few days. we all know how difficult it is to find a certain regiment or brigade which we had left perhaps in a snug camp in a well-known location only the day previous, rigged up and beautifully laid out and decorated as if they intended to make it a winter quarters, but had been suddenly ordered during the night, perhaps, to some distant point on a picket detail or wagon guard. these sudden changes in the camps and of the headquarters to a straggling cavalryman or infantryman seem to alter the entire topography of the country in one day, and is very confusing to anyone. i concluded, however, to take the general course which had been indicated, and to depend on further inquiries as i went along. with this important dispatch in my pocket, my curiosity burning with an intense desire to learn its contents, i started off briskly, determining in my usual reckless manner that, if it should turn out to be important, that i'd deliver it to _our_ headquarters, instead of to the rebel's, that night. it did not in those days occur to me very often that there might be obstacles in my path. i presume that i felt if there were that, as a matter of course, i should be able to overcome or crush any attempted interference with my plans. i had not gone far when i was startled out of my reverie by a "helloa," from the rear. looking around in a frightened way, as if i had been detected in the very act of opening the envelope, as the subject was in my mind, i saw trotting up after me a neatly-dressed soldier on horseback, whom i recognized on a closer approach as one of the orderlies detailed for duty at the railroad station. his laughing question assured me that i was not to be arrested, and, recovering myself, i was able to receive him calmly and pleasantly, as he said: "i got back shortly after you had left, and they sent me out to relieve you. i'll take that dispatch out; why, it's five miles almost; we're much obliged to you, though." i rather reluctantly handed over the envelope, which, perhaps luckily for me, had not been tampered with; the natty orderly slipped it under his belt and, after a few more pleasant words, rode off. in a disappointed mood i retraced my steps to the telegraph station, walking along at a much more leisurely gait than when starting out. i had the leisure to think over my future operation, and before i had returned to the office, had about resolved in my own mind that there was not any use in longer staying about there. but, remembering my experience at fort pickens and in patterson's army in getting into our own lines from that of the enemy, my mission in both cases being misunderstood and my object mistrusted by our own officers, because i had only my own word to support my reports, i fully determined that, without regard to the risk of carrying papers, i should not again return to our lines without taking with me some documentary or other proof to sustain my observations. i had thought, while in possession of the official dispatch, what a pleasant gratification it would be to my old friend covode to be able to show him an intercepted dispatch from richmond to the commander of the rebel armies in the field; and as the thought of this performance dwelt in my brain as i walked along, i formed a hasty plan, which i believed i could mature and carry into effect--of securing from the files or papers in the telegraph office a number of copies of the most important dispatches, either in the handwriting of generals joseph e. johnston or beauregard, addressed to richmond, or at least signed by them officially. at the particular time during which i was at this point, it seemed to me that the burden of the wires was the messages of inquiry for the sick and wounded, mixed up with florid dispatches of congratulation, coupled almost always with expressions of the great possibilities of the south. there were but few official messages of any importance that i was able to hear; those carried to and fro by the orderlies, and to which i gave my personal attention in a quiet way, would turn out to be generally some quartermaster's or commissaries' orders or requisitions, and i became nervous and tired over the strain or tension i had been obliged to maintain in order to overhear the instruments in the midst of the confusion always existing about the place. as the telegraph table was jammed up tightly against the board wall of the house, under the window, it became my favorite place for loafing when outside of the office. i could sit on the board platform and, with my back against the boards under the window distinctly hear every word that went over the wires, the thin partition between my head and the inside answered as a sounding-board, really helping to convey the signals by vibration. if the reader is anxious to try an experiment, let him place an ear against even a thick wall and allow some person with a penknife handle to tap or knock ever so softly, but quickly and sharply, in imitation of a telegraph instrument's click, and you will be astonished at the distinctness with which the wall will carry the sound like a telegraph wire. there was always about the place a lot of idle loafers--rebel soldiers off duty, who naturally gravitated toward the railroad stations, where the little stores or sutlers were usually to be found, dealing out commissary whisky and tobacco. every day, and for every train, there would be crowds of sickly-looking soldiers at the station in care of friends, who were taking them to the trains for their homes. dear me! i recall it as if it were but yesterday, how the hundreds of poor fellows looked as they were helped aboard the crowded cars by their poor old fathers, or perhaps younger brothers. i always associate in my mind a sick rebel, with his big eyes and sallow face, with a resemblance to a crazy tramp one sees sometimes nowadays, injured while stealing a ride on a freight train, gazing at everything in a stupid sort of way, clothed in a pair of butternut pants and coat, and big gray blanket over his shoulders even in that august sun. i saw lots of them go away from manassas that i felt sure would never return to trouble us. they were not all sick, not by any means; some of the chaps that gathered about our place were about as lively and fractious as one meets at an irish picnic. one evening while sitting in my favorite place under the window, apparently dozing, but wide enough wake to take in every sound of the instrument which i knew emanated from the fingers of the operator at richmond, my quick ear caught a message addressed to a prominent official. as it was being spelled out rapidly, promising something rich in the way of news development, i was eagerly straining every nerve and sense to catch every word of it. the instrument had ticked out the name and address, which had first attracted my attention, and i had read--"we have information from washington that banks--" when some big fellow among the crowd on the platform, of course not knowing of my intense earnestness at that moment, began a jig-dance on the board platform; and as his boots were at least number nine, and he weighed pounds, of course the vibrations from that source smothered the other sounds. so intent and eagerly had i fixed myself on catching that message, and was so absorbed in my purpose, that, when the fellow made his first jump, i impulsively cried out: "keep still a minute." this was a dead "give away," or would have been to any person who had known anything of the telegraph business and my recent connection with the place; but, quickly recovering myself, i said, "all right; i thought the operator was calling me." he went on with his dancing but i lost the message. i afterward carelessly walked inside and tried, without exciting any suspicion, to ascertain what the information about banks amounted to. i was not successful at the time, but kept the matter in my mind constantly during the evening, and the more i thought about it the more eager i became to know its purport. i was satisfied fully, from personal observation, that there was no thought of an advance on washington. i could see from the number of leaves of absence, and the great crowds of soldiers leaving by every train, that no forward movement was then contemplated. besides this, i had heard on the wire message after message of an official character from quartermasters, commissaries and others interested in the movement of an army, of sufficient character to satisfy me of any projected advance. i decided to go to washington and report thus much. it had been arranged that, as beauregard (or johnston) had advanced his line to near fairfax court house, the telegraph office would be moved the next day, so as to be more convenient. late in the night, when the only one on duty in the office was the operator with a guard or sentry outside, i lay on the floor of the office affecting sound sleep, but wide-awake. knowing that it was the last opportunity to get hold of any papers, i became anxious and almost desperate. a long message had been sent to "s. cooper, adjutant-general, richmond," giving a full and detailed account of an epidemic that had apparently broken out in the army. the dispatch was important i knew, from the fact of its being addressed to s. cooper, who i knew was adjutant-general for jeff davis, and was, i think, signed by dr. cartright. it was quite long; the only part of it which i distinctly remember was the astonishing statement that twenty-five per cent., or one-fourth, of the rebel army were sick or unable to do any active duty on account of this epidemic of dysentery or diarrhoea. this was an important admission in an official form, and i decided that it was the message in writing that i must carry with me to washington. i observed carefully where the operator placed the original copy after it had been sent. it was his duty to have remained there all night, prepared to receive or send communications that might chance to come, but we all know how soundly the night-owls can sleep while on duty, and i knew, or hoped, that this young fellow would soon take his chance and drop asleep, when i could abstract that cooper message from his files. i did not have to wait for him to sleep; he did better than that for me; he went out of the office and left me inside alone, and i, moving vigorously, with one eye watched his every movement; he further favored me by turning all his lights down before leaving. i inferred that his purpose (as all was quiet on the wire) was to go to his bunk and take a regular sleep like a christian and a white man, and not like a common soldier. i heard his footsteps on the long platform grow fainter and further off, and then the sound disappeared as he jumped onto solid ground. now was my chance to get that message. realizing that it might be my only opportunity, i quickly determined to take the risk of his returning soon and, perchance, missing the message from his file--it being conspicuous because of its bulky appearance. i silently stole up to the desk and slipped the big piece of paper from his hook and put it--not in my pocket, not by a good deal--but i carelessly laid it "aside," where i would be able to reach it, and where the operator could find it if he should return and take a notion to hunt it up. pleased with my success, and emboldened by the continued absence of the operator, i thought of looking further for a copy of the message about "banks" that i had heard come over the wires that afternoon, but abandoned it, remembering that, as it was a received message from richmond, that probably there was no copy of it retained in the office and the original had been delivered. everything seemed to become oppressively as still and quiet as death outside--the office was dark; the instrument only ticked an occasional "call" from "rd;" but as the operator was not there to answer the "call" the "rd" operator no doubt thought him asleep, and with that feeling of fraternity and consideration for which the craft are noted, the man at "rd" undoubtedly turned in himself. it's probable the feeble call was merely a desire to assure himself that the man at the other end was drowsy and ready to go to sleep. i understood all their little tricks. i had been there myself often, and, as i lay on that floor, i fully sympathized with the boys. feeling that it was to be almost my last hour in the telegraph service of the rebels at manassas, i became bold and reckless enough at my success, and the hope of getting away soon, to undertake a very foolish piece of business. in the darkness, which comes just before daylight (when i should leave), i learned the cooper message. at the same moment, almost involuntarily, i placed my hand on the "key" of the telegraph instrument and softly called, "rd-rd-rd," several times; there was no answer to my first feeble call. the operator was probably asleep. i was turning away, abandoning the attempt, when i was thrilled through and through by the click of the instrument answering in a slow, sleepy way, "i-i-i," which is the affirmative signal in answer to a call for attention to receive a message. glaring about wildly in the darkness in search of the voice of the rebel spectre i had aroused, and who was speaking to me from richmond, i took hold of the key and said, in nervous haste and desperation: "what was that message you sent about banks?" there was a moment's silence. "rd" did not seem to comprehend, and made the telegraphic signal for interrogation (?) or repeat. i said more deliberately: "that message about banks--is there anything important?" "oh, yes; why, you sent the answer to that." "i forgot it." "yes," he answered; that "a confederate company could take care of banks." "o. k., o. k." i had just laid down when footsteps were heard advancing toward the office door, and, in another moment, to my great relief, not the operator, but the colored servant or porter, tumbled in for an hour's sleep before it was time to sweep and clean up the office preparatory to the coming day's work. there was no more sleep for me. i was wide-awake to the importance of getting away from there as soon as possible. with the intent of throwing everybody off their guard, or to avoid any suspicion that might possibly attach to my sudden departure, i had made up, and had been careful to tell all the listeners i could get the day previous, that i was going out to fairfax c. h. to find some friends whom i had understood were in camp there, and i might be away all day and night. also, that i was tired of civil life about the railroad and anxious to enter the army, and would do so if i found my friends. i knew that the operator who had been on duty, or supposed to have been on duty that night, would be relieved by the regular day man in the morning, so, of course, the man coming on duty would not be likely to know anything about the night messages, or to miss any messages that he himself had not sent. i therefore took the last opportunity to collect from the files of the office several interesting "documents," which i knew would be valuable souvenirs to show my friends when i should get back to washington. early in the morning i secured a note from the superintendent requesting a pass through the army for myself, to enable me to look up a friend. with a few further words of good-by to one or two companions, with whom i had been so singularly associated for a few days, i left the place, with the expectation of being able to reach washington the same night. the distance was but twenty miles, i think, to alexandria. my plan was, during the daytime to travel openly under protection of my pass, in a course leading to the front. from the best outlook that i could reach, i hoped to place myself convenient to some unguarded point, through which i could escape from the rebels, and in safety reach our own lines under cover of the darkness. it was not a particularly dangerous undertaking at that time, because the rebels--officers and soldiers--whatever may be said to the contrary, were demoralized, and had become quite careless and almost indifferent to their surroundings. i was now going into the very heart of the rebel army. i think that i saw all that was to be seen in a day's scout. they had, what i thought at the time, an awful lot of cannon; and cavalrymen in bright gray uniforms were flying about everywhere, mounted on their own fine horses, and stirring up a dust in such a way as to impress me with the idea that the woods were full of horsemen. the infantry camps were, for the most part, pleasantly located; in fact, everything looked brighter from the midst of the army than it had from its rear; but there was everywhere present--along the roads, or in the yards of convenient houses--the same groups of sick-looking soldiers and officers, who were probably awaiting their turn to get home to die. there were numerous fortifications, earthworks and masked batteries to be seen, and when i got on to the battlefield of bull run what a disgusting smell filled the air; the very atmosphere seemed to be thick and heavy with the odor of half-buried and half-burned horses and mules, the bones of which were to be seen in many places covered with carrion crows, which would fly off making their ugly noises as they hovered about in a way to make the heart sick. you all know how we used to "bury" the dead artillery and cavalry horses, by simply piling a few fence-rails over the bodies and then setting fire to the pile, and then ride off and leave the coals of the fire baking the carcass. whew! the smell of those half-burned old horses sticks in my nostrils even after twenty-five years. i have not much to say of the many poor fellows whose toes were to be seen above ground; and now and then a piece of blue cloth showed through the thin covering of earth, and one hand laid above the grave, from which the fingers had been actually rotted or eaten off. it's an ugly subject to write or think about now, and i dismiss it from my mind with the same feeling of disgust and sickness that i experienced that day i walked along the fields and fences in august, . under the pretence of looking for a sick comrade, whom i pretended might have died at one of the hospitals or private houses in that direction, i moved about unmolested. there were plenty of civilian visitors beside myself, who were readily granted the privilege of going over the battlefield; their army friends were glad of an opportunity to escort them, so it was not thought at all out of the way for me to be prowling about there alone in search of a sick or perhaps a dead friend. in this way i got beyond the battlefield without any trouble, and along the railroad toward the station from which a road leads up to fairfax court house. here i began to encounter some difficulties in the way of guards and sentries which were placed about the railroad bridges and at the cross-roads. their purpose was, as a general thing, i imagined, to prevent their own soldiers from roaming or straggling about too much. i knew that the railroad track would lead me in the most direct route to alexandria, and soon to our army on that line; but i understood, also, that it would be more carefully patrolled and guarded than were the country roads; and for this reason i preferred the woods in which to make my final dash for liberty, and the union, and home. the critical moments in a scout's experience come just at this point--after successfully passing beyond one line and _before_ reaching the other; then occurs the time when capture means his sure detection, either as a deserter or a spy, with its terrible punishment; and it is extremely difficult to tell from appearances whether those you meet or see are the friends you hope to find or the enemies you desire to leave behind. i had traveled openly and boldly all day through the rebel army, carrying inside the lining of my cap the official papers i wished to get through. i had placed them in my hat because i calculated that, in case of a pursuit and probable capture, i might be able accidentally to "lose" the hat in a way that would not attract any particular attention, and a search of the regulation place for a spy to carry papers--in the shoes--would reveal nothing to implicate me. night and darkness was rapidly coming on, yet i continued boldly to advance right along to the front, and, in the gloaming, i reached a little house setting back from the road, where i applied for supper and lodging. there were several soldiers about the yard, and officers were inside the house, as i judged from seeing their horses tied in the barnyard. an old bushwhacking proprietor, to whom i addressed myself, said that he couldn't keep me, as these officers had engaged the only accommodations he had. turning to the officers i explained in a plausible manner that i had been hunting all day for a sick comrade, who had been left at a private house; that i was unable to find him--his name and regiment i was then able to furnish, knowing very well from their distance back, where i had located them, these men would not detect me--and as i was too tired and sick to go back that night, i must rest till morning, and so i would take a bed in the barn. i showed my request for a pass, across the face of which i had carefully endorsed in bold handwriting, in red ink, before leaving the office, the official words, "approved, r. chisholm, a. d. c." that was a clear case of forgery, but "all's fair in love or war," and "desperate cases require desperate remedies." the officers were of that kind who are easily impressed by an endorsement, especially if it is written across the face of the papers in red ink; and without any further question i was invited to sit down while a warm supper was being prepared for them. i gathered from their conversation that the rebel outposts were still some distance beyond. though their own regiment was on this picket duty, their presence in the house was explained by the sickness of the younger of the two officers, the older having brought him in off the picket-line. there were also in addition to this line of pickets, a cavalry detachment that were supposed to be constantly moving up and down the roads in front of or between the two armies. so i was still a long way from our lines, and had yet some serious obstacles to overcome. it wasn't exactly a pleasant evening for me, although i was so near home again. i lay there in that hay-loft or horse-shed, planning for the last dash for liberty; i knew that i must not attempt to move out of the barn until everybody was sound asleep; i had also some fear of a couple of dogs, that i'd seen running about the house rousing the folks when i should stir; i realized that i had a serious night's tramp ahead of me; my path must necessarily lead me over the fields and through the woods in tiresome detours that would be necessary in avoiding the road. for this reason i was anxious to make an early start from the barn; and just as soon as everything became quiet i silently groped my way out of the loft and slid myself down on the manure pile; crouched a moment to nervously listen and learn if the way was clear, and not hearing a sound of life, i started off cautiously on the last quarter-stretch of my night run for "liberty or death." keeping to the fields and woods, but in sight of the fence along the road as a guide, for some distance without meeting anyone or the hearing of a sound except the crickets and frogs, i became more emboldened and climbed over the fence into the road, striking out at a lively gait down a long hill. at the bottom of this hill, or rather in the valley between two hills, flowed a little stream which was spanned by one of those old-fashioned stone bridges. when i came close i discovered that a sentry was standing on it. i thought it was a picket; i could discern a moving object that looked to me through the darkness sufficiently like a soldier and his gun, to cause me to get back over the fence and make rapid tracks through the field to his flank. almost exhausted, i found myself on the bank of the same little stream at a point where there was neither bridge or pickets. i had learned enough about the military way of doing things to understand that, topographically, this little stream of water probably represented the rebel picket-line, and i surmised that if i were able successfully to pass this point, that i should meet with no further danger from the infantry, and that cavalry could easily be avoided by keeping away from the roads, as i could travel over the routes where the horses could not be used. i waded right in fearlessly; there was but little water running, but, oh dear! there was lots of mud concealed under the little bit of water, and when i pulled out, on the other side, i had gained several pounds in weight which had to be carried along up the next hill by a pair of legs already nearly exhausted. i got over that hill and passed down into another valley, and had, as before, become so emboldened by not meeting with anything in my path to relieve myself of the extra labor of climbing fences and crawling over logs, as well as scratching through briar bushes and tramping ploughed fields, i again took to the road. all that day and most of the night i had now been going steadily in one direction, as i believed toward our lines, which i had figured could not be more than twenty miles distant from my starting point in the morning. feeling that i could not be far from rest and glorious relief from the dreadful strain or suspense in which i had placed myself since leaving the barn, i recklessly pushed along the open road. up to that point i could have retreated and saved myself, but now that i had gotten outside of the lines, no explanation would answer, if i were captured. i was so fully satisfied that i was outside the rebel lines and became so exhilarated with the feeling that came over me upon the thought that the next soldier i should meet would be our own boys in blue, that i started up the hill at a brisk dog-trot, feeling almost as fresh as when starting out in the morning. this road was through a strip of dense pine woods. you all know how dismally dark the path seems which leads through a deep and dark, lonely wood on a cloudy night. i felt, as i forged along, like the ostrich with her head in the sand, that, as "i could see nobody, nobody could see me," and was feeling comfortable enough, notwithstanding the dreary loneliness of the time and place, to have whistled yankee doodle, even although i was not out of the woods. i wasn't afraid of the black-horse cavalry in that darkness and gloom, because i knew very well that afoot i could easily hear the approach of horses along the road in time to get out of the way by running to the adjacent dark woods. in my mind i planned my forthcoming interview with the surprised officers of our army, whom i would soon meet face to face. it's a rule or law that scouts or spies must report direct to the general commanding, and not talk to anyone else. i was going to do better than this, and report to the president and secretary of war, and show the evidence that i carried--that there were twenty-five per cent. of the rebel army sick with this epidemic, while probably another twenty-five per cent. were absent on sick leave or straggling, and no advance was possible, while an attack by banks on their rear would demoralize them all badly. "halt!" that's the word i heard come from the darkness and interrupted my plans, which shot through me as if it were uttered by a ghost or spirit from another world, and put me in a tremor of dismay. the voice came from the side of the road, and _from behind_. i was so taken by surprise that i could not at the instant see the object that spoke like a deathknell this dreadful word. in another instant a _soldier in a blue uniform_ appeared, pointing his gun at me, as he said "stand there!" then calling to a comrade, who had evidently been asleep, as he did not immediately answer, i recovered my voice sufficiently to say to the soldier in the blue blouse: "you scared me half to death, until i saw your uniform." he replied to my observation: "yes; where did you come from?" i had not yet seen his face distinctly, but his voice and dialect at once aroused my doubts, and again put me on my guard, and i said: "i'll tell you all about it when your officer comes," and i braced for a run. in another moment the rattling of a saber was heard, coming from the direction of the woods, and, peering through the darkness into the grove, i was able to distinguish the outlines of a house. when the officer with his rattling scabbard got up to us i was almost paralyzed to see him dressed in the grey uniform of a confederate cavalry officer. addressing me courteously, he said: "what in the name of all that's good brings you out on this road on such a dark night, disturbing our sleep?" he laughed, as if he thought it a good joke on himself; it was only a trifling little laugh, but it gave me some encouragement. "why, i have been hunting the house where a sick friend of mine was left after the battle, and, being unable to find him, i went to sleep in a barn, but i couldn't stand that sort of a rest, so i got out and started back home, and i _guess_ i'm lost." "i _guess_ you are." the use of this word nearly gave me away. "what regiment was your friend in?" "i don't know for sure, but think it's a maryland company. i knew him in texas, but we were both from maryland, and maybe he went with some texas acquaintances." "well, my friend, this is rather a singular place and time to be found hunting a sick friend." "yes, i know; but, as i tell you, i am lost in the darkness, and must have taken the wrong road when i left the barn. i will show you my passes." "oh, you have passes, have you? come into the house and we will make a light; we can't make a light out here because we are right on the line." as we turned to leave, the sentry or guard who had halted me whispered or spoke in a low tone to the officer. i suspected that he was telling him that i had expressed my relief at seeing his blue uniform. the officer merely nodded assent, as he invited me to walk alongside of him into the house. i took occasion to say to him that when i saw the blue coat i was sure that i had been caught by a yankee soldier, and expressed my great pleasure at having met such courteous southern gentlemen. "well, you came very near going into the yankees' hands; why their cavalry come out here every day, and were away inside of this point to-day, but they generally go back at night, and we come out to spend the night on the road." then stopping in his walk he turned and, after peering through the trees, he pointed to a couple of dimly flickering lights and said: "those lights are in georgetown college." great god! i was so near and yet so far; and as i looked at the lights i was almost overcome with emotion to think that i had so nearly succeeded and was now a prisoner in the sight of home and friends; that i had, in fact, passed the last picket and had been halted from the rear, but realizing that i must, under the trying circumstances, keep a stiff upper lip, i might yet get free. my surprise at hearing the lights pointed out as georgetown college was so great that i must have expressed in some way my feelings, as the officer looked at me quizzically. i ventured to express myself in some way about being so near the yankees, as i thought i was nearer fairfax, in a manner which probably implied a doubt as to the lights being so close at georgetown, when he spoke up: "i know they are, because, you see, i was a demonstrator of anatomy and a tutor at that college, and we all know about it." and as a further proof of his assertion he incidentally observed: "if you are around this country in daylight you can see the capitol from some elevated points." in the silence and gloom that had settled down over me, like a cold, heavy, wet blanket, we walked together to the house. along the fence and hitched to the posts were several horses, already saddled and bridled for sudden use, while in the porch of the house were stretched in sleep the forms of two or three men in gray uniform, with their belts and spurs buckled on. inside the house a tallow candle was found, and by its dim light, the confederate officer scanned my pass, and then, turning, gave me a most searching look by the light of the candle, as he said: "this pass is all right for the inside of our lines." "oh," said i quickly, "i don't want any pass anywhere else. i'm glad that i found you here, or i'd have gone into the yankees' hands, sure." while talking to the sentry, when waiting for the officer to come up to us, i had not thought it necessary to attempt to destroy or "lose" the papers in my old hat, as i supposed him to be the union picket; and, since the officer had joined us, there had been no opportunity to do anything with him, without exciting suspicion, which was the one thing to be avoided at that time. when we went into the house i had, of course, taken off my hat, and as i sat there under the scrutiny of that fellow's black eyes and sharp cross-examination, i held my hat in my hand, and everytime my fingers would touch or feel the presence of the paper in the hat i was conscious of a little flush of guilt and apprehension, which happily the tallow candle did not expose. the officer, at my request, hospitably accepted the suggestion that i be permitted to stay there under their protection until daylight, when i could return to "our army," supplementing the arrangement by the kind observation: "we will see you back safely." then rousing one of the sleeping soldiers, whom he called aside and gave some private directions as to my care and keeping, he courteously told me to make myself comfortable, and apologized for the accommodations. i was a prisoner, and i knew full well that to be escorted back through the rebel armies with this officer's report that i had been "found at their outposts going in the direction of the enemy," would excite a suspicion that would be sure to set on foot a closer examination, and this would result in my certain detection; because the first thing they would do would be to show my forged endorsement from general beauregard's chief-of-staff for his further endorsement; and i could not, of course, stand an examination into my immediate antecedents, nor explain my statements, and this would also discover my operations in the telegraph office. as i lay down alongside of the armed rebel trooper for a rest, i resolved that, come what might, i should not go back a prisoner--that it would be preferable to be shot trying to escape rather than to be hanged as a spy. chapter xii. another escape, etc. as i lay me down to sleep on the front porch of the little old house, close beside an armed rebel soldier, and not very distant from two other aroused troopers, i realized in a manner that i can not describe that i was not only a prisoner, but that i was most likely suspected of being a spy who had been captured in the very act of escaping from their own into their enemy's lines. i felt all the worse from the reflection that my unfortunate predicament resulted solely from a want of caution or discretion; that had i been content to suffer more patiently the delays and annoyances which were necessarily to be encountered while tramping in the darkness through the fields and briar bushes in avoiding the highways, i might have passed the danger line a moment later, to have reached our own lines safely enough a little later in the night. i had actually passed all the rebel pickets, both of infantry and cavalry. i learned from the talk of the men into whose hands i had run myself, that they were merely a detached scouting party, who were at that particular point at night, as i surmised, to receive communications from their friends who were inside our lines during the daytime. this arrangement was for the accommodation and convenience of _their_ spies in our army--enabling them to come out to this rendezvous under cover of the night to deliver their mail or supply information. i gathered these facts from the big fellow who had me in charge, who, it was courteously observed by the officer, "would make me as comfortable as possible," after the manner of a jailor the night before a hanging. the outpost was not only a branch postoffice for the rebel couriers, but there was a previously-arranged system of signals with some one at the college, by which any important advances or other movement of our forces could have been quickly announced, and that would have been well understood by the party stationed there to observe this. as i have said, i fully determined in my own mind not to go back to the rebel headquarters as a suspected spy. the forged endorsement, or request for a pass, which i had voluntarily relinquished to the rebel officer, while it seemed to allay any suspicions that might have been aroused in his mind, had the opposite effect with me. it was the one little piece of paper out of my hands that was sure to be closely scrutinized by the officers. it would supply documentary evidence not only of my guilt as a spy, but of forging a rebel general's endorsement. i had not yet seen any chance to make away with the other dreadful death warrant, in the form of the stolen telegram that was concealed under the lining of my hat. while passing into the house from the road i might have thrown my hat down, but i knew they would hunt it up for me, and, in handling it, be sure to discover the concealed papers. i could not get them out of the hat, even in the dark, without attracting attention that might result in an exposure; and, besides all this, i knew full well that any pieces of white paper, if torn into ever so small fragments and scattered on the ground, would be sure to attract notice and be gathered up at daylight. i was suspected, and, as such, every action and movement was being closely scrutinized and noted. my only hope was to delay the exposure that must eventually come; that i must keep still and trust to luck for escape; or, if an opportunity offered me, while pretending to sleep, i could eat and swallow the papers. the horses of the troopers were already bridled and saddled and hitched to the fence-post. it occurred to me, in my despair upon seeing this, that, if i could only succeed in throwing these people off their guard for a moment, i might find an opportunity to seize one of their own horses, upon which i could ride defiantly and wildly down the road into the darkness, trusting to night and the horse to carry me beyond reach of their pursuit. these were only a few of the many thoughts that rushed through my brain that night, as i lay there on the porch, so near home and friends on one side, and so close to death and the gallows on the other. it is said that a drowning person will think of the events of a life-time in one short moment. i had _hours_ of agony that night that can never, never be described. as i lay there looking up into the sky, perhaps for the last time, i thought i'd soon have an opportunity of finding out whether there were other worlds than ours. i was, indeed, going to that bourne from which no traveler ever returns. the clouds, which had darkened the sky a little in the early part of the evening, were now slowly rolling by. i lay as still as death for an hour perhaps, watching the movements of the clouds; and thinking of my friends at home. i wondered what each and every one was doing at that particular time, and imagined that most of my youthful associates were having a happy evening somewhere, while i, poor fool, was lying out on a virginia porch in this dreadful fix, without a friend to counsel or advise with, while i might just as well have been at home and happy with the rest of them. if they thought of me at all, it probably was as a prisoner still about harper's ferry; but i would never, perhaps, have the satisfaction of knowing that my work in the rebel camps had been understood. while cogitating in this frame of mind the moon began to show through the breaking clouds, and, as suddenly as if a face had appeared to my vision, the southern moon looked straight down on my face, flooding the porch for a moment with a stream of mellow light. i was lying partly on my side at the time, my head resting on my arm for a pillow, as was my habit; my hat, which yet contained the tell-tale papers, was under my face. i was almost startled from my reverie, as if by an apparition, and, looking around hastily, i saw standing, like an equestrian statue, on the road the mounted sentry, while along side of me, but to my back, was _seated_ another fellow apparently wide-awake, who looked wonderingly at me as i raised my head so suddenly. i was closely guarded, and my heart sank within me as i again dropped my head to my favorite position on my pillowing arm. the moon still shone clear, and as i looked with heavy, moist, downcast eye, i became suddenly thrilled through my whole being on discovering by the light of that indulgent old moon that right alongside of my hat was an open knot-hole in the floor of the porch. i'm not a spiritualist or even a believer in the supernatural, but i must assert, upon my conviction, that some unseen influence must have directed and placed that ray of moonlight at that particular time, for the express purpose of enabling me to safely deposit the tell-tale papers. if it had not been for the timely rift in the clouds, i would never have discovered the little opening in the floor. another fact which confirms me in my theory of the supernatural influence is, that, immediately after i had been so strangely shown the place of concealment, the light faded as suddenly as it had appeared, and for some time afterward the surroundings became obscure in the darkness. there may have been, but i don't think there was another hole in that porch floor, and this one was quite insignificant. in the darkness i could barely insert my two fingers into the opening, as mercutio says in the play:--"no, 'tis not as deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door: but 'tis enough, 'twill serve." i don't think a hunted rat or fox was ever more grateful for a hole than i was for this; it was my only chance to get rid of the papers unobserved, and i at once took the hint from the sky and began silently to finger them out of my hat. unfortunately, they were quite bulky; the official paper which had given a tabulated statement of the epidemic and absence of twenty-five per cent. of the confederate army, was on foolscap paper, which _would_ rattle everytime it was moved; but by turning or scraping my shoes on the boards every time i touched the papers deadened the sound, i was enabled, after a good deal of nervous twitching, to get them into a roll sufficiently small to poke down the hole. that's what i thought; but when i attempted to drop them the wad wouldn't fit; and, to add to my consternation, the guard at this point was being relieved. i lay still for awhile in a tremor of excitement lest i should be detected; it occurred to me, also, that though the moon had kindly shown me the way to get rid of my burden of proof, the sun might, also, in the hours following, expose, from the front part of the house, the presence of a roll of white paper under the porch. i had not satisfied myself that the opening at the front was closed. to prevent the roll of white paper being too conspicuous, i tore from my hat the black silk lining, and, at a favorable opportunity, i re-rolled the little paper into the black silk stuff in a smaller package, which allowed of its being deposited in the rebel signal station, and "let her drop." it reached the ground about two feet below, and, being dark in color, was assimilated so closely with the black earth as not to attract any notice, even if there had been an opening to daylight. this package out of my mind and off my hands safely, i breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief and thankfulness, and uttered a solemn prayer: "that i'd be hanged if i ever touched another paper." when i rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked around and saw daylight breaking, my heart again sank within me as i realized my position. through a misty, drizzling daylight in august, i saw preparations of the rebel outposts to "pack off," and was hurriedly ordered to get up behind one of the troopers whose horse would "tote double," and instead of a gallant dash down the road to our lines, followed by howling and shooting pursuers, i was being "toted," back to the rebel army, "on behind." it seems very funny now to have to describe my inglorious position, as compared with the novelist's idea of a dash for liberty. i was riding lady fashion on the rear end of a rebel cavalryman's horse, holding on around his waist for dear life, like a girl at a picnic, as we trotted ingloriously back toward the headquarters of the rebel army. it was quite unbecoming i know, and if i had been in a camp meeting crowd i should have enjoyed the ride; just at this particular time i was obliged to be satisfied with the facilities, and pretended that it was fun. i was smart enough not to allow those people to discover, by any words or actions of mine, that i objected to going back in this way; though i would have given worlds to have had a chance to delay them, in hopes of relief coming up from the union army that would compel them to give me up in order to save themselves. [illustration: i was being "toted" back to the rebel army.] i had two chances for my life: i could not be expected to fight the whole rebel army single-handed and escape unhurt; the only thing to do, was, so to conduct myself that i might throw them off their guard and quietly get away, and thus have an opportunity to try again to reach our lines. the other alternative was, that if this chance of escape did not appear, that i might so conduct myself toward my captors as to win their confidence, and have the forged pass disposed of and not be carried to beauregard. if conducted to headquarters, i might, by cunning stories, try to impress on the minds of those who would have my examination in charge the truth of the story that "i had become lost in the night, while searching for the house in which my sick friend was reported to have been left." this was plausible enough, and i hoped from the general demoralization prevailing after the battle, that they might be careless, or at least indifferent, enough to let me off easy on this statement. the forged endorsement on the pass, which had gone out of my hands, was the serious _evidence_ against me, coupled with the fact of having been captured while trying to go to the enemy. there was, also, of course, always before me the great danger of a discovery of my identity as the fort pickens spy. i had ample opportunity to consider all these things as we trotted along back over that portion of the road that i had tramped out in so lighthearted a manner the night previously. the soldier who "escorted" me was a jolly, good fellow, and felt disposed to make my ride as comfortable as possible, but as there were eight in the squad beside the officer in command, we had to keep up with the rest and, as our old nag was a rough trotter, it was a little bit uncomfortable at times. they seemed to be in a hurry to get away. perhaps something may have happened while i was asleep that made it necessary for them to whoop things up a little that ugly morning. the unpleasant jolting of the horses, and the rattling of the sabers and horses' tramping feet, prevented an easy flow of language--in fact, i could not talk at all; it required all my time and attention to keep my place on the rear of the saddle. i did not dare to drop off the horse, because the officer in charge had been careful enough to place us in front. we reached a bridge on which was stationed a picket, who halted us; the officer rode up, dismounted, and gave the necessary countersign and ordered us forward. i had only seen the bridge at night, and from the other side, where i had discovered a soldier with a gun walking about, when i broke for the field and flanked him. we were halted for a moment while the rebel officer of the guard, with our officer, walked a little distance to one side to consult with some others, who were in a drowsy way, lounging about a camp-fire. i looked about to gain some idea of the topography of the country over which i had traveled in the night. several officers approached us, accompanied by our commander. i was requested to dismount, when our officer politely introduced me to the other, saying: "the colonel is anxious to know how in the world you could have gotten by his picket on this bridge last night." "yes," says the colonel, "i've had men on post here who declare that no one passed them during the night." i was taken all aback, because i had told the party who had captured me that i had followed the road right along. "well," said i, "i walked right over this bridge last night, and saw no one here at all." what a whopper that was; but i knew that i'd got to go through with it. turning abruptly away from us, both the officers walked off a short distance and brought a sergeant forward to hear my statement; luckily for me, he admitted that at a certain hour he had been obliged to leave the bridge in charge of one man alone; but he insisted that it was for a short time only. after this admission the sergeant and his officer had some interesting talk, in rather an emphatic tone of voice, in which my officer and our squad seemed to take a lively interest. they evidently felt that they had found a weak spot in the infantry line of pickets, and rather enjoyed the honor of having caught the fish that had gotten through the net. after this little affair had been so happily passed, to my great relief, they all seemed to be in good humor with themselves and with me, and were rather inclined to give me credit for having passed through their infantry successfully. as my escort's horse was having to carry double, and could not be expected to travel as fast as the others, the officer in command directed a second man to stay with us, while himself and the rest of the body-guard rode ahead. they assumed that, being again inside of their picket-line there was no danger of my getting out to the yankees--if i had wanted to try to escape from them. we were directed to hurry to a certain house, where they would order breakfast, and very considerately urging us to hurry along, so we could have it hot. i was apprehensive, from this talk of a breakfast in a house, that i should be landed back into the old bushwhacker's shanty, where i had taken a greasy supper the night before, and had been put to bed in his barn. i was not sure of the road, nor would i recognize the house, as i had seen it only at night when approaching it from the other side. i felt relieved when we turned out of the broad road into one not so well traveled, which led to the left or south, in the direction of fairfax or the railroad. to a question as to our destination, my man said: "we are to go to headquarters, i reckon, but we are to stop up here for a rest and feed." sure enough, after passing only a short distance up the side road, we came in sight of an old tumble-down looking house on one side of the road, while across from it was the identical barn that i had crawled out of a few hours earlier. the house and necessary outbuildings of the farm were located between these two roads. i discovered by the daylight, also, that there were quite a number of rebel soldiers encamped in a wood close to this fork of the roads; there was, probably, a brigade of them, or at least a couple of regiments, bivouacking there, as i judged from the smoke of their numerous camp-fires. they were preparing their early breakfasts. these troops, i learned from my companion on our horse, were detailed for the rebel advance picket duty, and were scattered in detachments all along the front in the best shape to protect their line. riding up to the gate, i jumped off the horse with alacrity, and seeing the old bushwhacker in the door, i rushed up to him as if i had found a long-lost father, and began to tell him how glad i was to be safely back there again. "but," said the old scoundrel, "why didn't you stay here last night?" "why, i couldn't sleep in that old barn for the rats, and so i got out; and as i didn't want to waken you all up, i walked off quietly alone, but i got started on the wrong road in the night and came near getting into the yankee's hands." "too bad," said the old rascal, with a sneer and a knowing wink to a group of officers who had gathered around there for a breakfast and had heard my story from our officer. i saw at once that i was a goner, and that my story wouldn't go down here; but, keeping a stiff upper lip, i assumed an air of cheerfulness that i did not at all feel in my heart. i was disturbed, too, to observe that my commander was being questioned earnestly by several officers, who would every now and then glance significantly at me; from their gestures and manner i knew instinctively that my case was being discussed, and every sign indicated that the verdict would go against me. this sort of a reception was not calculated to whet my appetite for the breakfast awaiting us. the georgetown tutor, whom i have termed "my rebel," was a perfect gentleman, and whatever may have been his own convictions as to my being a spy, he most considerately concealed from me any indications, and refrained from the expression of a suspicion as to the truthfulness of my story. he assumed in my presence that i was a straight refugee; and i inferred, from his intercourse with the officers whom he had met at this old house, that he had defended me as against their suspicions. a young enlisted man from one of the regiments camped about there had been brought to the house to confront me on my "maryland story," he being a marylander. it was supposed he would be able to detect any inaccuracies in my account of maryland; but i soon satisfied him, and showed the officers who had gathered about that i knew as much about maryland and baltimore as he did, and more about the rebel country. i had fully crammed myself on that subject, in anticipation of being questioned on it. i have often thought since that, had i fallen into the hands of those infantry officers, after having successfully passed through their lines, they would have been tempted to hang me without trial, and the old bushwhacker would have been glad to have acted hangman. he looked like a veritable jack ketch. they well knew that the report of the cavalry officer to headquarters would expose the weakness of their line. i took occasion at the first opportunity to have a little talk with my officer, to ascertain what he intended to do with me. with a sigh of relief, he said: "why, sir, i shall have to leave the matter entirely with the officer who gave you this pass." that wasn't very comforting, but i didn't say that i felt it was the very worst thing that could befall me; but, instead, i spoke up: "that will be all right. i shall be glad to get away from this place as soon as possible." "oh, yes; we will see you safely to our headquarters." then giving some directions to the sergeant of his squad to get ready to move, he turned again to me and said, kindly: "i am sorry that i have no horse for you, sir; and, as we are now detained considerably, i will ride on ahead. these two men will come on more leisurely with you." that was one good point--the chances for escape were increased three-fourths, or in direct ratio to the reduction of my body-guard, or escort from eight to two. i was inside the rebel pickets again, and _they_ had been made more alert, and would be more watchful after their carelessness of the night previous. this, with the fact that i had been scrutinized by so many soldiers on that morning ride through their lines and camps, would make any attempt to escape in that direction doubly dangerous; therefore i concluded i should try to quietly get away from these two soldiers at the first favorable opportunity; if i succeeded, i should not dare to attempt passing _that_ picket-line a second time, especially in daylight. it was quite a relief to me to say good-by to the old bushwhacker and his crowd of rebs from my seat on the rear end of the horse. he had something to say about "not coming back that way again," as we rode off. they detained our companion a moment or two, while i imagined they poured into his head some cautions or directions about taking care of me. when he caught up to us, he said, laughingly: "them fellows think you are a bad man." this was thought to be too funny for anything; and to keep up the joke, i grabbed my man around the stomach and called on him to surrender to me at once, or i'd pull his hair. we trotted along the road in this laughing humor for a mile or so; my heart was not in the laughing mood, but i, like the broken-hearted and distressed comedian on the stage, was playing a part, and, in a greater sense than theirs, my "living" depended upon my success in acting the character well. at one point in the road my comrade had dismounted for awhile, and kindly gave me the bridle-rein to hold. i was then in possession of the horse, he was afoot, his gun standing by a fence-corner, and himself on the other side of the fence. this was a pretty good chance for a horse-race with the other fellow, who was still mounted, but he had the advantage of holding a carbine and a belt full of pistols, while i was unarmed. i wasn't afraid of _his_ guns. i took in the situation at once, and would like very much to be able give the reader a thrilling account of a race inside the rebel lines, but the hard facts are--i was afraid to undertake it. i had discovered at the foot of the hill, near a stream of water, in the direction in which we were going, the smoke of a camp, and probably a road guard was over the little bridge. these soldiers, i knew, would halt me with a volley from their muskets, especially if i should come tearing down with an armed rebel shouting after me. on the other side, toward the out lines, the course would lead me back into the rebel camps and past the old bushwhacker's house we had recently left, and i preferred going to headquarters to getting back into their clutches again. when my man remounted and i surrendered the reins to him, i observed that, if i had wanted to have gone back, or to run off with his horse, i could have done it, and at least had a race with our companion; they had not thought of the danger at all, and were both tickled at this evidence of my good intention; neither of them had seen the infantry guard ahead of us, which was the _only_ obstacle to my attempting to carry out this "good intention." we trotted and walked further down the hill and passed inside the guard; in going up the next hill, i proposed relieving the horse by walking a little; this was readily granted, and i slipped off on to the road and stretched my legs in training for a run, if a chance offered. i remarked jokingly to the soldiers, who rode along leisurely, that they had better watch me close; that, as we were now inside of about three lines of pickets, or road guards, being such a dangerous fellow, i might fly back over their heads into the yankee's lines. this sort of pleasantry seemed to keep them in an easy frame of mind, and they began to act as if they were ashamed of the fact, that two heavily-armed men on horseback should be necessary to guard one unarmed boy on foot. one of the men discovered a house standing back from the road, at which they proposed getting water for their horses and ourselves, so we all turned into the little road leading right up to the place. our first inquiry was met at the kitchen door, in answer to his request for a cup to drink from, by a real neat, young, colored gal, whose laughing, happy face showed a mouthful of beautiful teeth while the red struggling through the black showed a beautiful cherry color in her lips. both the boys were attracted, and began immediately, in the true southern chivalrous style, to make themselves agreeable to the "likely gal." i didn't have anything to say. the other two fellows kept up the fun for quite a little while, becoming every moment more and more interested, and actually became jealous of each other. i saw that this was likely to be my opportunity and encouraged the performance. while they were both dismounted and "resting" on the old back porch buzzing the gal, i carelessly observed that i'd go around to a little out building. they had gained so much confidence in me that my proposition was assented to without a word, or even a nod; and the boys both sat still, while i unconcernedly walked around the corner of the house. how long they sat there and talked i do not know, and what became of the two good boys in gray will never be told by me. as far as their history is concerned in this story, it closes with this scene on the back porch of the old house. chapter xiii. one more escape--"yanking" the telegraph wires--"on to richmond!"--a close shave. apparently there were "no men folks" about the house at the time of our morning visit. however, through a window, i saw the white cap of an old lady, whose bright eyes shone through her large-rimmed specs intently on the group that sat on her back porch. i had taken observations every foot of our march during the morning, with an eye single to the main chance, when the opportunity should offer, to escape from the guard--either to run or to hide from pursuit. under such conditions, one's wits take on a keen edge. directly back of the house, but on the other side of two open fields, was the edge of a wood that extended a long way in both directions. this wood was the timber or inclosed land down in the "hollow" or bottom, as they term the low lands, while the road on which we were traveling stretched in almost a straight line over the higher ground. once around the corner of the house, i stopped a moment to take in the situation. i saw at a glance that the wood was my only chance, because cavalry could not follow me on horseback through the undergrowth, where i could go on foot. i felt equal to both of them--except the guns. a dividing fence ran along the fields toward the house, and quickly scaling this, i turned for a look back, then thinking of the doubly dangerous risk of a second capture while attempting to escape, being actually in the enemy's army, i was nerved to desperation and made a break for liberty, feeling that i could almost fly. i ran like a pursued deer. i took off my hat--i don't know why, but i always take off my hat when anything desperate is to be attempted. i didn't stop to pray in a fence-corner, but, in a half-stooping position, so as to keep under cover of the fence, i ran like a deer along that old stake-and-rider fence, and i made, i know, as good time as ever boy did in a race after hounds. in the middle of the field an old negro man was working alone. i stopped for a moment when i saw him, but as i was, luckily, on the opposite side of the fence from him, he did not see me. this old moke had a dog along with him--they all have dogs. i was more afraid of the dog than of guns. this black apparition in my path to the woods necessitated a slight change of direction, to avoid him, as well as the scent of the mangy-looking old dog, that i imagined was "pointing" me. i was soon under the hill, from where i stopped a minute to look back. i could see only the top of the house that i had just left, and i knew they could not see me; so, leaving the protecting shadow of the fence, i struck boldly across the field in a direction leading furthest away from the old coon and his dog, in a course toward headquarters, the same in which we had been traveling. i knew, or at least imagined, that, immediately on discovering my escape, they would naturally think that i would return, or that i should at least try to make toward their front, and again try to escape into the yankee lines. this was their mistake. my plan had been deliberately formed before hand to do precisely the opposite thing--which was to run ahead, or toward the rebel headquarters, trusting to the chances of putting pursuers off my scent, and hoping to lose my identity in the crowd among the rebel camps. like the hunted fox, my tracks zigzagged me back to the road we intended to follow, but brought me out ahead of the house. before risking myself on the road a second time, i peered through the fence cautiously, from whence i could see up and down the road for a long way. the coast was entirely clear; and, cautiously crawling through the lower bar of the fence, i did not run across the road; no, indeed, i _crawled_ across on my hands and knees, like a hog, so that i might the better avoid any chance of observation, and, in the same ignominious style, i hogged it through the lower panel of the fence on the other side. once safely over the road, i quickly changed my character from the swinish quadruped to the biped; and, without turning to look either to the right or to the left, i crawled along that fence right alongside of the road, in as speedy a manner as was possible. it was more luck than good management on my part that i had been forced back on to and over the road by the presence of the black man and his dog. in pursuit they would naturally follow, but the old man would be sure to swear that i had not gone in the direction that i had been obliged to take, because he had been there all the time and had not seen me. while the two clever cavalrymen were probably skirmishing around on their horses along the road, or through the fields to their front, looking after me, i was rapidly traveling in a course directly opposite, and they would not be likely to suspect that i had crossed the road. there were no woods on the side of the fence or road on which i had placed myself, and i was obliged to keep close to the fence, and followed right alongside of the road for quite a long way. at the bottom of the hill was a dry run; that is, there was a gravelly bed over which a small stream should have coursed, but the water was not there in august, . the banks were, however, pretty well shaded or covered with a light undergrowth of willows, or some such trees as usually are seen in these situations. it was a good chance for me to get away from the road fence, so i ran along the run-bed toward the south, under the protection of the shady undergrowth. there were no signs of life along this stream; it was deserted both by the water and the things that live in and above the water. its course led me a long way from the road. after successfully passing a house, which was near the top of the hill, at a safe distance, unobserved, i got into a second wood and lay down on the ground for a much-needed rest. i did not dare to stop long in any one place, knowing only too well that, when my guard should report that he had lost his prisoner, the rebel cavalry about headquarters would be sent out to search for me, with probable orders to all guarded points to keep an especial lookout for a person of my description. i could not stay in the wood, though i could best conceal myself there, because i knew that i would famish. i was already in real distress for want of a drink of water, and, as i lay there in the wood, my brain began to conjure up all sorts of torments. i imagined that the dry bed of the stream over which i had been stumbling was mocking me with an appearance of moisture. if any who chance to read this have ever had a couple of hours violent exercise in a dusty country, on a hot august day, and longed for a drink of water, they may appreciate my misery. i don't imagine that i can convey in words any conception of the suffering, the intense suffering one may experience for a drop of water, when they can't get it. the experience will almost drive one wild. i believe this, because, on more than one occasion, i have seen the demon of this anguish look into my eyes with the wild glare of the frenzied maniac. the drizzling rain of the morning had given way to a sultry, close noon, and as i lay panting in the shade of the wood, the sun hung out like a huge, blazing copper ball, and poured down his fiercest heat. i thought of the beautiful, clear, cold spring on the hill-side back of my father's house, in pennsylvania, where i had so often, when a boy, been sent for a bucket of water, and had so reluctantly obeyed, thinking it a great hardship to be compelled to throw out a whole bucket of _good_ water just because it wasn't fresh and cold. i would have given anything in the world for just one chance to be a better boy at home, and solemnly pledged myself never to kick again on my turn at going for water. i called up involuntarily all the soda fountains i had ever seen in the cities, and became frenzied over the idea that i began to hear in my mind the buzzing noise of the little sprays of water that were always to be heard dashing against the glass case. unable to stand it any longer, i got up and made a break for water, determined that i must find it at any risk. in this condition of mind i trotted along slowly, like a hunted wolf, with his tongue hanging out. let's see. i've compared myself to a monkey riding on the rear end of a horse; a deer stalking behind the fence; a fox with zigzag tracks being chased by a dog; a hog under a fence; and now it's a chased wolf. i hope to exhaust noah's ark before i complete the story, and am trying to keep the score in view. i found a pool of water on the outer edge of the wood. there had been a spring about there some place at some time. if there had been any hogs about they would have found it first and utilized it as a bath; as it was, it was partly covered with a greenish slime. i had spent some time in texas, where it only rains once in seven years, and had learned, while traveling about that country, that the green scum is considered an indication of _good water_. that's a fact. a texan will always prefer to take a drink from a pool on which there is this scum. so, in my distress, for the want of a drink--of anything, so it was water or something wet--i eagerly skimmed a place large enough to poke my nose and mouth into, and sucked into my parched throat a long drink of the warm stuff. i had also learned another drinking trick in texas, which is--always to hold your breath as long as possible after taking a drink of what they call water, in order to conceal as far as possible the taste in the mouth which necessarily follows the nauseous dose. but we must hurry along and get out of the woods with the story. i reached, after considerable dodging, a railroad. i judged it was the manassas road, leading from alexandria past fairfax station back toward manassas. i was not sure of my location, but i was glad enough to strike a railroad-track, because i knew that cavalry could not travel on ties as fast as i could, and i hoped, too, that it would afford me some chance to get away from the cussed country more rapidly. i didn't dare walk the track, but i followed along it for quite a long way. at one point, where there was a long, straight line, i discovered some distance ahead a soldier on guard. i imagined it was a bridge or culvert guard, and i knew that i could not pass that point. while getting ready to go around them, i observed that the telegraph wire, which had become destroyed and was repaired at one point, was quite low; the men who had done the work had evidently not been able to climb a pole, and had left it hanging over the bushes. the sight of the wire in this shape, put into my head the idea that it would be well enough to destroy their communication right there, and prevent the use of _that_ means of spreading information about a spy being loose in their camps. getting to one side of the bushes, i easily got hold of the wire from my position on the ground, and, hauling it as far as possible to one side, after hastily glancing up and down the road to see that no one was near to observe me, i "yanked," or by a dexterous "twist of the wrist," which a wire-man understands, i was able to break the wire, which, the minute the tension was removed, suddenly flew apart, making the adjoining poles resound with the vibration. i was frightened at the consequence of my act and dodged hastily into the shelter of the wood. [illustration: i "yanked," or by a dexterous "twist of the wrist," i was able to break the wire.] it was possible for me, as an expert telegrapher, to have drawn the ends of the wire together, and, by simply tapping them together, to have sent by this simple method a message of defiance to general beauregard. i suspect that this story would be enlivened somewhat by such a trick, but it don't come in here. it was successfully played _afterward_ while i was on stoneman's raid to richmond's outskirts; but the truth is, that i was too badly scared to think of such a thing at this time. the accident, if i may so term it, served me a good turn in one or two ways; first, it destroyed communication for the time, and it brought about a valuable means to the end of assisting my escape, but it was not a safe place to loiter. it occurred to me that i might be able to pass the bridge, and thus get over the stream safely, by assuming the role of a telegraph line repairman, carrying some loose wire. the wires were being frequently broken by the rough pounding of the poles by mule drivers, and repairmen were no doubt often being sent out to fix up the breaks. in this capacity i knew i would be looked upon as belonging to a sort of privileged class, as they now are, riding free on the rear end of the railway trains, while we all know a telephone man will walk right through the best and biggest house to get on to the roof to fix a break, as if he had an inborn right to go anywhere he chose. breaking from one of the hanging ends of the wire a long piece, i coiled it in shape that linemen carry, and putting it over my neck, i started boldly down the track. i had no climbers, but i was able to personate an amateur repairman who had been suddenly pressed into the service, on account of a great emergency, who must travel rapidly as possible in search of a broken wire. my story passed me safely over the bridge and past the guards stationed at several points on the track. i traveled rapidly in the direction farthest from the break. by the same bold trick i was able to get through several camps that were close by the tracks. there were no trains running on that part of the road at that time, or i should have, probably, been tempted to boldly stop an engine and get on; as i had often seen linemen on the pennsylvania railroad thus picked up from the road by accommodating engineers. i knew, of course, that the trick would not last long; that the moment the wires had separated the operators would know of some sort of a break out on their line, and would at once take the necessary steps to test for the location of the accident; and, of course, men would be sent out as speedily as possible to repair the damage. i ran the additional risk, too, of meeting with some of those _bona fide_ linemen, who would question my authority. in the manner in which i have tried to describe, the greater part of this eventful day was spent, until along about an hour before sundown, when i came to a road crossing the railway. i now seemed to have gotten through, or beyond, manassas, in the rear of the rebel army, toward richmond, as there were no further guards at the crossings. i discovered, by encouraging a trackman in a short talk, that the road crossing the tracks led off in a direct course to falmouth and fredericksburg and richmond. after a little further inquiry as to a suitable house at which to apply for something to eat, i left the track, taking the dusty summer road "on to richmond." i felt, as i walked along this narrow road, which was seemingly cut through a thicket of small saplings, so common in that country, that i had escaped, and was safe once more. my belief was, that i had not only eluded pursuit but that i had put those whom i knew would be sent to find me on the wrong scent. i was tired, _very_ tired, and as i had eaten nothing at all since the hasty breakfast at the bushwhacker's house, when i didn't have appetite enough to swallow a mouthful, i was, of course, hungry. i hadn't a cent of money, either, and what could i do but beg, and this i _would not do_. again my good angel came to my relief by suggesting a ruse, to further aid my escape and, at the same time, perhaps, create a sympathy for myself. i had, in assuming the character of a lineman, thrown away my coat, in order to relieve myself of the burden of carrying it along in the hot sun, and to further carry out the impression that i was a workingman without a coat. i had walked so much and so rapidly that my left foot had become swollen, so that i was obliged to go along at a limping gait. i took advantage of this accident to further add to the change in my appearance, by assuming a lameness that apparently obliged me to depend upon the use of two sticks to hobble along. i had been obliged to take off my tight left shoe, and around the swollen foot i tenderly tied the greater portion of my shirt, which i had, of course, first torn off the narrative end. in this shape, walking between two sticks, with my foot tied up as if it had recently gone through a surgical operation, i jogged along down the sandy, dusty road which was leading toward fredericksburg and richmond. along in the evening i ran into a clearing, at the far end of which was nestled a little old-fashioned house. it was one of those country farmhouses where the roof extends down beyond the house and forms a lower shed or porch roof, which runs along, both at the back and the front, the whole length of the house. opening on to the roof were two dormer windows of the old-fashioned kind, that we don't often see nowadays. i marched boldly--if limpingly--through the picket gate, up the straight path in front of the house door, and, assuming to be suffering dreadfully from my "wound," i asked the old man--another old bushwhacker--for a drink of water. he didn't fly around with any great alacrity to wait on the "poor soldier,"--that isn't the style of hospitality for poor whites in virginia--but the old cuss did order a colored boy to bring some water. "right away; do you hyar?" i was just dying for a chance to operate on the old fellow's sympathy, with a view to "accepting his hospitality" for the night, or to the extent of a supper, at least, but i had come up to his door a poor wounded soldier on foot, and the second-class virginia gentleman has no use for a poor man, even if he should be a wounded rebel soldier, who had come all the way from texas to defend his home, etc., etc. if i had ridden up to his house as a blatant rebel officer, on horseback, everything his house contained would have been officiously placed at my disposal without a word of question. as it was, the old rascal began to ask questions, and was so disagreeable, too, in his manner, that a young man, who had come up from the barn, and who i judged to be his son, found it necessary to answer for me, and in a way that put the old man down. being thus encouraged by the son, the old lady took a hand in behalf of the "poor soldier," and endeavored in a kind, motherly way to make me more comfortable. i had told them that i had been slightly wounded in the foot, but the wound did not properly heal, and i had been tired and sick lying about the hospital camp, and had determined on my own account to get out to the country some place, for a day or two. i was particular to impress on the mind of the sour old man, that i was not a beggar--that i'd pay for all i got, etc. now, i didn't have a cent of money, and if that old man had demanded a settlement after supper, i should have been sadly left; but i was going to stay all night, and return to camp _for a pass_ the next day. the old man had said that they all had their orders from the army officers not to entertain _any_ soldiers who couldn't produce passes. to this i replied that, "i had thoughtlessly overlooked the matter, but could easily fix _that_ the next morning, when i'd return." we had a _good_ supper; the old lady's sympathies were aroused, and she set out her little delicacies for the "poor texas boy, who was so far from home." i was just hungry enough to have eaten everything they had prepared for the whole family; but, as i was on my good behavior, you know, by a mighty effort and struggle with the inner man i was able to postpone my appetite. there was only the old man, his wife, and the big lubberly son, and a colored mammy in the house. they were evidently "poor white trash," but they owned one slave, so old that she was like a broken-down horse or cow--very cheap. i heard the old man talking earnestly to the son, and i imagined, of course, that the conversation was about myself--at such a time one's fears are aroused by every little incident. "trifles light as air, become proofs as strong as holy writ." "oh, no; you're mistaken, father! why, the poor fellow can't walk." "but," replied the gruff voice of the old man, "he don't know where his regiment is." without further words the young fellow walked off. when the old man came back to the porch, where i had been sitting telling the old lady a sorrowful tale about my home, etc., he began: "where did you say you got your wound?" "why, it was a trifling hurt on the instep; it only became troublesome because i couldn't keep from using my foot." then the old lady chipped in with: "shall i send mammy to help you bathe it with warm water, before you go to bed?" i declined this with profuse thanks, and begged that they would not trouble themselves about it; it was a mere trifle. after some more questions from the old man, which i was able to parry, i was ready for bed, glad enough to get away from him, and determined to clear out as soon as possible. they put me into a room which was in the attic, which extended across the width of the house; from this room there were windows opening on to the roof before described (two dormer windows), one in front and the other directly opposite, opening onto the roof of the porch. before getting ready to lie down, i took a good look at the surroundings from both of these windows. i had become so accustomed to this, going to bed in the enemy's country, not knowing the condition in which i should find myself when i'd waken, that it became a sort of a habit with me to take my bearings, that i might be able to escape in case of fire. i didn't "dress" my wound exactly, or undress myself for bed; in fact, there was nothing that i could strip off but the trousers, one shoe and a hat. with these all on, i lay down on top of the old-fashioned, cord bedstead, and, as described by some of the smart sayings that we used for texts in our copy-books at school--"consider each night how you have spent the past day, and resolve to do better the next." its awfully easy to get up these texts, but it's sometimes a little bit troublesome to apply the same thing to every-day life. i "resolved" easily enough to do better the following day--if i could. i wanted to get out of that country very badly, because i knew, as before stated, that the whole rebel army at manassas would be on guard for spies at once. my one hope was to get to richmond and escape by some other route. while "resolving" further in my mind how to get along down that road in the morning, without this old man getting after me for my supper and lodging bill, i almost fell asleep. i was so tired that i could scarcely keep awake, yet i was afraid to trust myself in sleep. the folks in the house had all been in bed some time; the lights were out, and everything became ominously quiet. my quick ear detected horses neighing and tramping, and an occasional voice in the night air reached my ear; but, as the sound seemed to die away so soon, i began to think myself mistaken, and was about to surrender myself to sleep, when aroused again by what was unmistakably horses galloping along the road. i quickly, but painfully, jumped up from the bed, and stole quietly over to the front window just in time to see a troop of horsemen come up. they were about to ride rapidly past when one of the fellows in the rear file called out: "here's a house." there was the jangling that always follows a sudden halt of cavalry, especially when following each other closely on a dark night. some voices, in the nature of interrogations from an officer to his command, and a halt was made some little distance down the road past the house. two of the men wheeled and rode toward the front of the house, and, after looking about the grounds, talking in a tone of voice that did not admit of my getting distinctly the purport of the remarks, they both galloped back together to the command, which they had left standing in the road. i breathed freer, hoping they had decided to let us alone. it would never do for that old man to have a chance to explain, in his way, my presence in the house. i felt devoutly thankful for the lucky escape i had again made, and had about concluded in my own mind to clear out silently, without the virginia formality of saying good-by to my host, when i saw, with horror, that the whole troop had turned about and were walking their horses slowly back toward the house. i stood by the front dormer window of the old house, and you may imagine how eagerly i watched their every movement. the officer in command halted his troop and, calling a trooper by name, said: "sergeant, you go up to the house and ask if they have seen any strangers along this road." that was enough for me. i left that window as suddenly as if a gun had been pointed at me, and ran across the little room to the back window; it was open, the night being so warm, the sash held up by the customary window-stick. i got myself through the window with celerity and was about to let myself slide down the roof slowly to the eaves, so that i might catch on there and allow myself to further gently drop down on to one of the supporting posts, where i could slide down to the ground. stretching myself out in a feeling way on the roof, still holding on to the window sill, almost afraid to let go, when down came the window-sash striking me across the wrist so suddenly and severely that i involuntary let go my hold and, of course, slid down the roof feet foremost like a sled on an iced track, landing kerslop over the side on to the ground. in my sudden descent i had caught hold of a lot of virginia creepers that were trained up to the side of the back porch and had pulled them down with me, and lay for an instant all tangled up in them. [illustration: landing kerslop over the side onto the ground] if there is anything that will startle a man or a woman it is the sudden fall of a window-sash, because, in most cases, it makes such an infernal noise and does so little damage; but, in this case, luckily for me, perhaps, my poor hand was made to answer the purpose of a buffer and deadened the sound of the falling sash, otherwise it might have fallen, as sashes always do, and the noise have attracted the notice of the cavalrymen, who were on the road at the other side of the house. my quick shute from the up-stairs of the little old house to the ground was softened a little by the mass of vines that i had carried down with me. the house only stood between me and a troop of pursuing cavalrymen. quickly realizing my precarious predicament, i gathered myself up, and, for a poor wounded crippled texan with two canes, i made most elegant time, considering the darkness, straight back to the barnyard into the wood beyond. what happened at the house i never learned, as i did not stop to hear another word spoken. chapter xiv. on to richmond--a night of terror--a ghastly find in the woods--attacked by bloodhounds--other miraculous escapes--first visit to fredericksburg--a collection taken up in a church in virginia for the "boy spy"--arrives in richmond. when i heard the officer in command of the cavalry party give instructions to his sergeant to inquire "if any strangers had been seen about there," i jumped to the conclusion that it was a detachment of rebel cavalry that had been sent after me. it may have been that this party had received general instructions only--to look out for all strangers traveling over the roads; but i knew full well that the old man would make such a reply to any inquiries as would excite their suspicion and put me to the dangerous test of an examination. in sliding off the back-porch roof so suddenly, i had further injured my already tired and swollen foot; but i seemed to forget all about it for the time, and ran off as lively as if i were just out of bed after a refreshing sleep. i believe that they did not discover the "presence" of an enemy for some time after i had gotten off, or until the old man had been roused from his sleep; and i imagined, after a parley with him, the officer would accompany him to my room in the garret for the purpose of interviewing their guest. what they thought when they found the bed empty, and nothing left of the poor texas cripple but his two improvised crutches, i must leave to imagination. i ran through the darkness wildly, recklessly, as fast as i could, scarcely knowing whither i was going, only feeling that each jump or step led me further from the cavalrymen. the night was quite dark. my course led me across a plowed field to a fence over which i climbed quickly, and plunged into a thicket or wood of small pine trees. once into this cover, i plodded along slowly, being obliged to pick my steps. it was blind traveling, and i avoided running into the briar bushes that are so plentiful in that part of virginia. through this thicket, every step, to my frightened wits, seemed sure to betray my presence by the breaking or snapping of the twigs and bushes. i didn't know where it would lead me, but i could not for the life of me keep still a single moment. i felt impelled by some unseen power to keep going on, on--how long i dodged and scratched through the bushes and briars can not be told. i only remember that every few steps i would be obliged to halt, having run my face against some low, thorny limb of the heavy growth of saplings, that would almost bring the tears to my eyes from the smart pains inflicted. i carried my hat in my hand, as i always do when i'm hard-pressed, and my long hair, like that of absalom, gave me a great deal of additional trouble. i was soon beyond sight or sound of the cavalrymen, whom i had left in the road. i desired to keep near the roads leading toward fredericksburg. i assumed that, in pursuing, these men would naturally imagine i had taken the back track to reach the railroad. i sometimes almost despaired of getting far enough away from the house to prevent capture before daylight would come. when i'd stop for a few moments to untangle myself from the bushes, or to feel my way over a fallen tree, i'd imagine that the curious noises that every one hears in the stillness of the night in the woods were the echoes of the pursuing rebels. i feared above all things else that they would procure from some of the neighboring houses some dogs--bloodhounds, perhaps--that would be used to track me through the thicket. in this way a most miserable night passed. though i say it, who should not, i had less fear of the rebels in arms than of the dogs. in all my adventures in their camps, i had preserved secretly, next to my body, the little colt's five-shooter revolver. i knew how to use it. there were the five loads yet in it, that i had put in before leaving pennsylvania, and i had resolved that four of them would be used against either rebels or bloodhounds and the fifth would relieve me from further pursuit. i admit freely that i was frightened; indeed, i was scared half to death, and would have given the world and all that was in it, if it were mine, to have gotten out of the miserable scrape in which i had voluntarily placed myself. under such conditions even a frightened boy will become desperate. i had deliberately determined to sell my life as dearly as possible, and, if they had not killed me, i should most certainly have done the business for myself rather than take any further chances in their hands. this is the way i was feeling while resting for a few moments on an old log. a picture of myself would show a smooth-faced youngster sitting "like a knot on a log," dressed in three-fourths of a shirt, a pair of torn trousers, one shoe and a half, bare-headed, long tangled hair, and i imagine an expression of countenance that would closely resemble the "wild boy of the woods." i had torn off the greater part of my shirt to bandage a sore foot the evening previously. when a person is hunted down he can accomplish some wonderful feats in quick traveling, even if the difficulties to be overcome are distressingly innumerable. i had forgotten all about the sore foot, on which i had limped to the house the night before. my wrist, on which the window sash had fallen, was most painful and threatened to give me trouble. though i had been on a terrible jaunt for twenty-four hours previously, i did not at that time feel tired, sleepy, or even hungry. there was the one idea in my head--to make all the speed possible, and increase the distance between myself and manassas. i had come upon a peculiarly sickening smell, that made me a little sick at the stomach, when all of a sudden i was startled, and my blood chilled, by a rustling noise in front of me; glancing ahead, in a terror of fright, i saw gleaming through the darkness something that i thought and believed might be the glaring eyes of a bloodhound. that dread was in my mind, but in the next instant the eyes had disappeared; with a rushing, rustling noise, the object, whatever it was that owned the terrible eyes, ran off through the woods. for the moment i was so stunned that i could scarcely move forward or backward; but, on second thought, realizing it was probably some wolfish dog that i had surprised while feeding upon the carcass of a dead sheep, i gathered courage to move ahead. as it was in my path, i was obliged to approach it, despite the sickening odor which was everywhere around. in a hot, sultry august night it was like--well, old soldiers can imagine what it was like. desirous of avoiding the stench as much as possible, i was climbing over a log rather than walk too close to where i supposed the eyes had been; hurrying along, holding my breath, with one hand to my nose, what was my horror to find that i had stepped from the top of the log right down on to the decaying body of--_a man_! o, horror of horrors! i can not write of it. i've never even told the story to my best friends. it has been too dreadful to contemplate; but the naked, disgusting facts are, that i stepped down on to the soft object--my foot slipped, as it would from a rotten, slimy substance, throwing me partly down, as i had one hand on my nose, and, in my efforts to recover myself, plunged both my hands into the soft, decaying flesh of the head, causing the hair to peel off the scalp. [illustration: i had stepped on to the decaying body of--a man.] what did i do? what would you have done? i was, for that moment in my life, as wild as ever lunatic could be; and can not remember further than that i ran straight ahead toward the road, which i had been so careful to avoid, and, after reaching it, i scaled the fence, like a scared dog, at two bounds, and ran--oh dear me--i didn't care what i should meet after that. my steps were long and quick, and it was not until i was completely exhausted that i stopped for a rest. i rubbed my hands in the dusty road; i polished the shoe in the dust of the road that had slipped off the slimy bones, but the smell would _not_ out; it seemed to penetrate everything; and i became deathly sick from the exhaustion. the experience of that hour had so turned my head and stomach that i was as weak and helpless as a child. in this condition i lay down in a fence-corner, not able to hold my head up another moment. perhaps i fainted, but i claim never to have fainted. i know that the dreadful object was a half-buried man. i know this, because some of his hair was in the sleeve of my shirt the next day. i don't feel like writing anything more about it, and will dismiss it with the theory which i subsequently entertained: that it was most likely the unburied body of a wounded rebel, or, perhaps, an escaped union prisoner who, like myself, after the recent battle of manassas, had concealed himself in the thicket, and while in that condition he had probably taken sick, and being unable to procure any assistance, or to make his presence known, had died this lonely and unhappy death; and the wolves and dogs only had found his resting place--the log his only tombstone. i lay curled up in the fence-corner for an hour or so. i imagined _everything_. dear me! i might fill a book with the thoughts that whirled through my excited, feverish brain that dreadful night. i felt that this would be my fate. every stick of wood became a snake, and they soon became so numerous that i was surrounded by them on all sides. the trees were a mass of living, laughing, bowing giants, who were there to laugh at my misery; and the noises--well, all know how a little frog can scare a big man when it darts into the puddle of water with a thug, especially if it's at night and he alone. i've often been scared by the suddenness of their jump, but that one night in particular it seemed as if all the wild animals in creation had gathered about that country, attracted by the smell from the distant battlefield of manassas. there were plenty of unburied and half-buried bodies all over the country about manassas--the very air was laden with the odor from decaying horses, mules, etc. one can imagine far better than i can describe the sensations of an over-sensitive youth as he lay in a fence-corner of virginia, forced to inhale the odor and obliged to hear all the dreadful noises that came out of the dark woods, and add to this the certain knowledge that, if i should become prostrated, then all hope of any relief for me from this veritable hell in virginia would disappear. as i lay there to add further to my cup of misery, i heard coming along the road, the tramp and gallop of horses. lying on the ground one can hear the horses' feet a long way off, and i suffered in anticipation just so much the more. i imagined these were the same cavalrymen i had left at the house. this new danger served to rouse me partially, and raising my head a little, i got my trusty little colt out of its concealment, and was ready for the end. in truth i did not then care, and had become so perfectly desperate that i was ready and indeed almost anxious to be out of my misery. they approached rapidly. i raised myself to a sitting posture, placed my back against the fence, cocked the pistol, and waited for their appearance. they trotted up, talking gaily among themselves and without seeing me, as their horses shied past. that was not very wonderful, because i was so close to the fence as to become covered by the shadow; the night was still too dark for objects to be seen at a short distance, especially from a rapidly-trotting horse. the passing of this cavalry detachment before me, as i sat in the fence-corner, served to arouse my drooping spirits somewhat. the dust which they had raised had scarcely settled, and the sound of their horses' hoofs were yet to be heard, when i became imbued with a new strength and hope, realizing that there was yet some hope for my escaping. i knew that it would be safe enough to follow along the road in the wake of that troop of cavalrymen; and the fact that there were no infantry pickets further along this road, was evident from the fact of the cavalry being out on this scout. i stepped out into the road with renewed energy, glad enough to be moving to any place that would take me from the sight and smell of such scenes. i don't know how long i walked. i remember very well that i found it necessary to stop every little while to rest. i was becoming so weak that i could scarcely hold my head up, and every time i'd sit down i'd involuntarily drop helplessly, and soon find myself going off to sleep on the roadside, being lulled to obliviousness by the queer, unearthly sounds from the wood--the effect being pretty much the same that i once experienced when taking laughing gas in a dentist's shop. i roused myself often, each step with a greater effort, and had the daylight been delayed but a little longer i should have been obliged to succumb. the appearance of the gray dawn in the east seemed to me as a sign or token of encouragement, and from its appearance i took fresh courage and kept moving, as if impelled by an unseen power "on to richmond." it is said the darkest part of the night is just before the dawn; so i have always found it; and it has been my observation, too, that the safest time to scout is just before or at dawn; then all animal nature seem to sleep or, at least, be off their guard, thinking, perhaps, everybody else like themselves are sleepy. this was one reason why i was able to travel some distance after the rebel cavalrymen in such apparent safety. i knew that, if they returned along this road, i should be able to discover their approach a long time before they could get up to me, and could get out of the way. i judged rightly, too, that they would be the only trouble i should have to overcome, as it was evidently their assignment to look after that particular section. why didn't i get ahead of them? i didn't have a horse, and it was safer to follow them than have them follow me. they would ask at every house if a stranger had passed. in this way they had caught up to me once. now they will be told at each house ahead of me that no one had been along that way. that's the way i was arguing the question in my own mind that morning. i moved along rather hopefully, not intending under any circumstances to approach a house or to allow myself to be seen by any one. but i was tired, weak and so hungry; and the best resolutions can be broken down by the pleasant odor of good cookery from a farmhouse, especially when it's wafted out to a poor hungry devil on the road. i had discovered about sunrise some blue wood-smoke curling up over the tops of a little growth of trees to the side of the road yet some distance ahead. knowing that i dare not approach from the road, i crawled wearily over the fence, and rather reluctantly began my old tactics of flanking the place and advancing in the rear of it. when i got through the woods and came to the opening nearest the house, i found myself almost behind it. the house was larger than any that i had seen the previous evening, and i gathered from the appearance of several little outbuildings, which i judged were "quarters" for the negroes, that the place belonged to a well-to-do virginia slave-owner. there was no smoke coming from the large house; it was from one of the little buildings that i supposed was an out-kitchen. the proprietors, or white folks, were evidently still asleep. an old aunty was prowling about the wood-yard gathering up chips. the pangs of hunger and thirst were driving me pretty nearly wild, and, being so dreadfully weak and exhausted, i felt that i _must_ have something to eat; that only a cup of coffee would do me for the rest of the day. but i _must_ have something to eat to keep me alive. desperate, and believing it to be the safest time to take the risk, i walked boldly out from my hiding place straight up to the quarters, determined to appeal to the old aunty, for a bite of something. she had gathered her apron full of chips and had gone back into the kitchen with them, so that i was able to follow her to the house unobserved, and was flattering myself that i had succeeded so well when all at once two dogs that i had not seen rushed savagely down the back yard toward me. i raised my two arms in a frightened way as they rushed on me; the foremost one sprang up, placing his feet on my breast and tried to reach my face or throat, but only succeeded in inserting his teeth in the fleshy part of the muscle of my left arm. as i had only the thin covering of the shirt, he tore this in a distressingly painful manner. i have the marks yet on that arm. the wound has been a painful one at many times during these twenty-five years; but the pension office regulations do not "compensate" for the bite of a _bloodhound_, so i have not mentioned it outside my own family. the old colored woman rushed out, followed by her old man, who grabbed the dog by his hind legs and threw him over; the two other dogs, attracted by the scent of the dead man on my shoes and trousers, could scarcely be driven away from me. the old woman kindly took me into the kitchen and washed the bloody arm, and bound it up with a piece of turban which she tore off for the purpose. without asking any questions, i was given a cup of good black coffee and some hoe-cakes, which i gulped down with a relish. these poor, ignorant, black people knew instinctively that they were succoring a friend, and at a very great risk to themselves; and to relieve them of any fear for their own safety, should their conduct be discovered, i told them the old, old story about being lost on the road, etc. the old man, who had been watching out of the doorway as i ate my breakfast at the hearth, observed, knowingly: "the master's folks isn't out of bed yet, but i specs dem sogers will want dey hosses, so i'se gwine along to de barn to feed, liza." the hint was sufficient, and to my hurried inquiry: "are there any cavalrymen at the house?" "yes, 'deed; dahs a whole company sleepin' on de front poach over dar." "how long have they been here?" said i, putting down my cup. "dey comes hyar most every night, and sleeps on dat poach tel they get over breakfast." that was sufficient. i had lost all pain in my arm; my hunger had been satisfied with less than half a breakfast, and, hastily thanking the old aunty, i made an excuse about not wanting them to know i was out of camp, and left--the shortest cut for the woods. i was up to my pursuers, and had left them asleep on the porch, awaiting their breakfast. this would give me an hour's start ahead of them, and i gathered renewed courage from the belief that they would _return_ from that point. as i have heretofore said, i am not a believer in spiritualism, but i have always felt convinced in my own mind that the dog was sent by a higher power to prevent me going up to the house where were sleeping a half a dozen or more rebel cavalrymen. i struggled along through the dreary, desolate, pine woods, skirting the roads and avoiding houses, suffering with my wounded foot, wrist and arm; fortunately the houses were not many, which allowed of my using the road more freely. it was along about noon, i think, when i reached the top of the hill at the old town of falmouth, which overlooks fredericksburg and vicinity. here was an obstruction in the shape of the rappahannock river, which had to be crossed by a ferry into fredericksburg. of course, everybody who crossed there would be scrutinized closely, so that their identity could be traced. it may be asked, why did i not attempt to reach the potomac from this place at this time. i don't know exactly why, except, perhaps, that i felt i was being impelled by some mysterious power to go to richmond. the potomac was only about ten or twelve miles distant, but it was also four or five miles in width, and the rebels controlled all the means of communication across to maryland. richmond was forty miles distant, and a railroad ran there from fredericksburg. luckily for my purpose, a drove of horses, being steered by an old farmer and two colored men, made an appearance at the top of the hill leading into falmouth. seeing my chance, i asked one of the drivers to be allowed to ride an "empty" horse over the river. he consented, and in this way i rode down the hill, and we crossed the rappahannock and entered fredericksburg in august, . i had intended to stop at fredericksburg and run the gauntlet of the railway trains into richmond, but i found myself so comfortable, seated on the bare back of a horse, that i concluded to stay with the drove the balance of the day, so we passed right through the town and on down the main road to richmond. i felt reasonably safe from pursuit. bloodhounds would not be able to track me that night, as they most certainly would when my presence at the colored shanty should become known. the old uncle told me that the dog that bit me was a young bloodhound, and that the proprietor of the house _kept a pack_, and i suspected that the object of the officers in visiting him was to secure their use. but, in getting on a horse and crossing the river, i had eluded their scent, and felt safe enough from further danger in that direction. it was also fortunate for me that i was further able to disguise myself, by traveling the road in charge of a couple of colored men with a drove of horses that were being sent to richmond for the army. that evening, without further adventure or trouble, except that i began to suffer from my foot and arm, we reached an old-fashioned, out-of-the-way stopping place, called hanover court house, where the colored boys had been ordered to keep the horses over night. they found entertainment in the quarters. i was received into the house as a wounded refugee soldier _en route_ to richmond, and treated in first-class shape by the old landlord and his kind wife. i had a new story for them that took real well. i slept soundly in a nice bed between the clean, white sheets. i am sure that i felt devoutly thankful for the home-like, pleasant change in my surroundings from the two preceding nights. the agreeable change in my surroundings that remains most grateful in my memory is, that the kind-hearted and motherly old landlady, seeing my wounded, bleeding arm, which had soiled the whole side of my already pretty dirty shirt, at once waddled off to fathom from the depths of some bureau drawer a nice, clean, white shirt, and with it across her arm she marched back to my room almost out of breath, because she was so stout, saying: "my dear, you must take off that shirt, which seems to be soiled by your wound; here is some fresh linen that you will please use." the old gentleman, who though not so rotund as his wife was fully as kind, approvingly observed: "why, of course, mother, that's right;" addressing me courteously, "is there anything else we can do to make you comfortable, sir?" thanking them profusely and perhaps tearfully, i asked only for a little warm water, before retiring, that i might bathe and dress my wounded arm--to which request the old lady called out: "chloe, have some warm water brought here at once--you hyar?" she "hyard." while i was yet telling these dear old people some of the most bare-faced lies about myself being a wounded refugee from maryland, etc., chloe waddled into the room with a bowl of water in one hand and a couple of towels across her black arm. her appearance interrupted for the time the flow of yarns, as both the old gentleman and lady excused themselves, first directing "aunty" to help the "young gentleman to dress his wound." aunty stood up in front of me with both sleeves rolled up, as if ready for a fight, when i should strip off the old shirt, which was sticking closer than a brother to the sore spots. but aunty very kindly helped me as tenderly as she could, and when my torn, inflamed arm was exposed she could not refrain from uttering a cry of sympathy, and wanted at once to go down to bring up the "missus" to see it. i would not allow her to do that, and, with her aid, i washed as well as i could, and was about to pull the shirt on over it, when, without asking my consent, old aunty marched out of the room, saying: "ise gwine get missus put sothin on dat arm," and disappeared. very soon the old lady embarrassed me by walking boldly into the room; and, after a few motherly words of sympathy, she took hold of me, as if i were a half-naked baby, and turned me around for her inspection. then giving a few words of direction to "aunty" to bring certain articles, she took motherly control of me, and for the time i became as a child in her hands, and was put to bed after my wound had been carefully dressed and wrapped by her own kind hands. the old gentleman made an appearance, too, with some medicine for the inner man, which i swallowed like an obedient child. we had, previously, had some supper. i was, of course, profoundly thankful for their kind attention, but was at last ordered, in the same kindly way: "don't talk another bit, but go to sleep!" and i did not require much inducement to court the drowsy goddess. that night no unpleasant dreams disturbed my heavy slumber. the ghost of the horrible, unburied soldier, on which i had stumbled the previous night, did not haunt me. i was dead to everything for the time, and slept as soundly as a child. the sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom, on a beautiful sunday morning, in august, , when i was roused from this refreshing slumber by the voice of the old "aunty"-- "missus says you'd better have some toast and egg, and a cup of coffee, den you can sleep some moah." there is nothing that will rouse a sleeper so quick as the invitation to breakfast, especially if the sleeper has not been over-fed and surfeited. toast and egg is a weakness with me even now, and when i heard the delectable words, "toast, egg, and coffee," i was wide-awake in an instant. but when i attempted to turn myself, so that i could see who had spoken these magic words that suggested such an agreeable aroma, i found that i was so sore and so much bruised that the attempt to move started through my whole frame twitches of sharp pain. "aunty," seeing that i was awake, came closer to my bed, and, in a kindly way, asked: "how is you dis mornin'?" in attempting again to move, i was forced to cry out with the pain which the exertion caused. aunty bade me, "jis you lie dar; i'll fetch your coffee!" and walked out leaving me alone; and for the few moments all my distress and trouble came upon me like a sudden cloud, as i realized upon waking that i was yet in the enemy's country, far enough from home, while between us was almost the insurmountable obstacle of the rebel army. i saw, too, that the heretofore unexpected danger of a spell of serious sickness was now liable to be added to my other troubles and difficulties. these gloomy forebodings were dispelled for the moment by a gentle knock at my door and the kindly appearance of the mother of the house, upon my invitation to come in, who, with a pleasant "good-morning," walked up to my bed and placed her hand upon my forehead. without asking a question, she said: "why, you are ever so much better than i expected to find you this morning." this was pleasant news for me to be sure, as i had not speculated at all on being sick. when with a few more kind words she left me, i heard the landlord say: "mother, don't be in a hurry; wait till i give the young gentleman his medicine, before he takes breakfast." when he came into my room a moment later--i was trying to bathe my face--with a cheery "good-morning, sir; i hope you rested well, sir; just take this if you please, sir;" and i had to obey; "we will send over after the doctor to come and attend you, sir." i became alarmed at this, fearing that their kindly feeling toward the distressed refugee would cause them to introduce to me some confederate surgeon from the neighborhood, who might make a correct "diagnosis" of my case and expose me. i begged that he would not put himself to that trouble; that i should go right into richmond and would soon be among plenty of friends who would take care of me, etc. he rather insisted that it was their privilege to care for me, and that they could not consent to my undertaking to travel to richmond until i had sufficiently recuperated. i thanked him; but am afraid that i did not convince the old gentleman that it was not necessary. he left me with the understanding that it should be "as mother says about it." but the circumstances rather dissipated my appetite for the breakfast, as i saw at once that it would be necessary for me to get away from them as soon as possible. a new trouble seemed to rise from the kind attention of this old couple. while i feared capture and detection on my account, i actually think that i dreaded most of all lest an exposure should happen while i was enjoying their hospitality. i could not think of having to confront these kind people, if i should be brought to bay, so it was that i made up my mind that i must leave their house the very first opportunity. i had not been questioned in the least particular except as to my comfort and health. these people were too cultured and refined to pry into my history before granting any aid; it was enough for them that i had stated that i was a maryland refugee, who had been wounded and was _en route_ to richmond to find friends. they saw my crippled condition, and they gave me all the aid and comfort that was in their power. seeing an old-fashioned inkstand and quill on a small table in my room, i had the aunty draw it up close to my bed, from which i was to eat my breakfast. the drawer contained a supply of paper, and, taking advantage of the first favorable opportunity, i wrote, when alone, the form of a pass, such as i had seen in general use, and signed it in an official way with the name of a well-known chief-of-staff. there was unfortunately no red ink with which i could further add to its apparent official character. looking about the room in the hope of finding some, my eyes rested on the bandage on my still bleeding arm. in another moment the pen was cleaned of all the black ink stains. i gently dipped it into my own bandaged wound and drew enough blood on the pen to write across the face of the pass, in back-hand writing (to distinguish it from the other) the almost cabalistic words in those days: _approved_, and signed it in red with my blood. the red ink "took beautifully." at the next visit of my host i took great pleasure in exhibiting to him my "papers." he glanced at it approvingly, and no doubt the red ink indorsement was sufficient. not deigning to examine farther, he said: "i don't want to question the character of a gentleman in my own house, sir, especially the word of a soldier, by gad, sir"--he laid it aside, as of no consequence. i had told the same old story of the refugee so often, had the character down so fine, that i almost believed it myself. of course, there were variations to suit the different circumstances, but it was nearly always a maryland boy far away from home. i could not possibly disguise my voice and dialect sufficiently to pass in the south for a southerner. i had been living in the south long enough to have learned the peculiarity of its people, and knew very well that i could not overcome the difficulty. so it was necessary, even at great risk to myself sometimes, to continue to play the dual character of a maryland refugee and an english boy from texas. there were a great many young people constantly coming over the line from maryland into the south, and most of these, after a few days "outing," corresponded very well with my appearance or condition in this, that they were "busted," having sacrificed all but their lives for the cause, and were now hankering for a chance to offer that on the southern altar. this immigration helped to further my projects. i had told my kind host and hostess a tearful story of my sufferings; how my coat, and all the money that was in the pockets had been stolen while i was sick, and that i was now going to richmond to replenish my wardrobe, just as soon as i could meet some friends, or hear from my home. this had the desired effect. of course, i did not beg, neither did my kind friends see it in that light; but, all the same, when the good people attended their country church that sunday they somehow interested the whole congregation, _and a collection was lifted in a virginia church for the benefit of a yankee spy_. when they returned from church they brought with them several neighbors to dinner, and soon after i was waited upon by the old gentleman and his pastor, who, in the most considerate manner possible, presented me with an envelope, which he said: "would be of service in making me comfortable until i met with friends." now the good spirit of my sainted mother in heaven, who had so often taken care of her wondering boy, certainly sent that earthly angel to me again, while i was alone in the midst of enemies on the sunday. there was nothing that i so much needed as money, as, with it, i could hope to find means of escaping by some other route back to my home, and i would _stay_ there, too. i was hardly allowed to thank the kind friends. after some further pleasant talk, which they indulged in to make me feel easy, i accepted their offer to the rebel cause with the understanding that i should be able some day to repay it. "oh, no; some of our lady friends were anxious for an opportunity to show their devotion to the cause, and were pleased to be able to aid, above all things, a worthy refugee who is so far from home and sick." under the circumstances, what else could i do but take this advantage of the good people? with me it was a question of life and death; but i resolved in my heart, that if the time should ever come when our army entered that country, i should be on hand to plead for the protection of those who had unknowingly befriended a foe. i began preparations to get away as soon as possible, by telling my kind people that it was necessary that i should "report" at once to certain officers in richmond. i secured their consent to leave their care before i was able to travel. it was agreed that i should be allowed to depart at once for richmond, and, with as much feeling as if i were an only son being torn away from home to go to the war, i bade them all a hearty, thankful good-by, and walked slowly to the railroad station, which was some distance off, to get an evening train from fredericksburg to richmond. the train came along in due time, and i got aboard with difficulty, because i was quite stiff and weak. taking the first seat, in the rear of the car, i noticed at once, while being waited upon by the conductor, that there were in the forward part of the same car several officers in the confederate gray uniform. this wasn't very reassuring, and rather unsettled my nerves, because, you see, i had, from my past few days' experience, imbibed a holy terror of anything in gray clothes. it was a sunday, and, as they were probably off on a leave, they were engaged in their own pleasures and were not likely to disturb me. the conductor informed me, when i offered to pay my fare to richmond, that he was required to report all soldiers traveling to a certain guard, and asked my name and regiment. i assured him that i had a pass, and with that he walked off, and, in looking it up, i discovered that my blood approval had almost faded out. i watched him, expecting that he would go straight to the confederate officers; but he didn't, and i was greatly relieved to see him go out of the car, slam the door behind him, and disappear in the next car ahead. i began to wish that i had remained at the hanover a little longer, and saw at once that the possession of the money had probably gotten me into a bad scrape, because without it i should have walked, even though every step was a pain. i reasoned correctly enough, however, that i should be safer in richmond, in the midst of the crowded city, than alone among country people, who would soon become curious about my history, and i prayed that i might be allowed to pass in safety this new and unexpected danger of being reported by the conductor on arrival at richmond. while i was thinking over these uncomfortable prospects, the train was dashing along toward richmond--only a short distance now--there was a whistle, and while the train perceptibly slackened i had time to decide that i better get off, and before the cars had stopped altogether i had slipped quietly out of the door and dropped myself down on the ties. i stood on the side of the track long enough to see a solitary passenger get aboard; the conductor jumped on, and the engine puffed off, leaving me standing alone on the track. i was again free--for how long i could not tell. still determined to take richmond, i started on, wearily, to follow the train along the track, but being so weak and sore my progress was necessarily quite slow, but i persevered, and along about the time the evening lamps were being lit i walked into the outskirts of richmond. chapter xv. sick in richmond--concealed by a colored boy and unable to move--an original cipher letter sent through the blockade to washington that tells the whole story in a few words--meeting with maryland refugees--the boy spy serenaded--"maryland, my maryland"--jeff davis' office and home--a visit to union prisoners at libby prison, etc. feeling my way along, to avoid guards that might be stationed in the principal roads entering the city, i was soon on main street, richmond, and i walked with an assumed familiarity in search of a boarding-house. finding a place that i thought would suit me, located on the south side of main street, not far from the market, kept by a widow lady, i applied for lodging, proffering her the cash in advance. she accepted the cash and me without question, and being tired, weak and anxious to get to rest, i was at once shown to a room, and in a very few moments later i was in bed, and, with a feeling of security, was soon sound enough asleep in the rebel capital. there were two beds in our room, as in most other cheap boarding-houses, and waking early in the morning, i was surprised to see on the chair alongside of one of them, the too familiar gray uniform of a confederate officer. i didn't take breakfast with the madame, but hurried out into the street, and, after a hasty meal in a restaurant, i hunted up a jew clothing shop on the main street, where i invested a good deal of the church contribution in a snug suit of clothes, a pair of soft gaiters for my sore feet, a new hat, etc. the next step was to a barber's, where i had most of my hair taken off, and in their bath-room i donned my new clothes, and i flatter myself i walked out of that barber shop so completely disguised that my recent friends and enemies would not have known me. i was feeling just good enough to have called on jeff davis that morning, and believing that, as my visit would be short, it was well enough to have a good time, i walked rather proudly up to a certain hotel office and astonished the young clerk by registering myself o. k. wilmore, baltimore, maryland. i notified an attaché of the hotel that i had but recently arrived via the blockade, and desired a small room for a few days, until i could meet with a lot more fellows who were coming over, you know, and was courteously welcomed by the affable clerk. the room to which i was shown overlooked the park, the confederate capitol building, the governor's mansion, etc., and there i remained an unwilling guest (after that day) for three long, lonesome weeks, _sick in bed_. maybe it was a fortunate circumstance for me that i was thus taken off my feet, as it served to effectually hide or exclude me from sight, and frustrated any efforts that might have been put forward for my capture. in the meantime the sensation that was, perhaps, caused by my escape had died out and i had been forgotten. as it was, that night i was taken sick and the next morning i was unable to get out of my bed. the trouble was principally dysentery, such as was epidemic in the rebel army at manassas, and had probably been caused by the bad water, or change of water, greatly aggravated in my case by the nights of terror i had undergone. while in my weak condition, perhaps, i had overloaded my suffering stomach too much the first day of my arrival in richmond. i can testify here to the fact that there was plenty to eat in richmond in , and it was not so very much more expensive at that time than in washington. the hotel people of richmond were a little dubious about refugee boarders from baltimore, as i soon learned, and were inclined to be rather disposed to refer their sick guest to a hospital. fortunately, i was able to prevent this by a prompt advance of a week's boarding from my church-collection fund, which fully satisfied the virginia yankee hotel-keeper. it happened, too, that there was some change due me from the amount i had passed to him, which, in the princely style i had assumed, i graciously told him to keep for a credit on the next week's account. i still had some money left, but not enough to pay another week's expenses at that hotel, but it was best to keep up a good appearance. the colored boy's name who served me with meals and who attended to all my sick wants, i regret, i have forgotten. he was indeed a good friend, and when my week was out and i was still so weak that it was impossible for me to move, he continued to serve me with three light meals a day in a room where i had been moved by him, which was located in a block of buildings which served as an annex to the crowded hotel. [illustration: you always say _down_ here, and that you're going to go up home.] the hotel clerks, or the people at the office, supposed when i left the room that i had gone from the hotel; at least, they did not give me any trouble, and i have always thought my presence in that room was overlooked or forgotten by them in the great rush of their business of those days. this colored boy was one of the regular waiters employed at the hotel, who had for the week or ten days previous to my change served me regularly, and had told me several times, in explanation or in self-justification, that he was told to serve me every day, and he was going to do it until he was told to stop. though i had not dared to breath to the poor colored boy even a whisper of my true character, yet it was instinctively understood between us that i was a yankee. i knew this from his manner, and i could see in every move he made that he was so carrying on his little game to aid me that he might not be detected in it, yet it was so shrewdly managed that, if he had been picked up, he would have readily cleared himself of all collusion by merely referring to his orders. in talking with him one day, he remarked, with a significant grin: "you always say _down_ here, and that your going to go up home; i thought you was going to stay in dixie?" i took the ignorant boy's teachings thankfully, and was more careful in the use of the words after that lesson. i might fill a chapter with interesting stories of richmond life which the boy gave me that were a pleasant relief for me, and served to while away, in my solitary sick bed, my first weeks in richmond. i took the opportunity the leisure afforded me of putting in operation a plan for secretly attempting to communicate with my friends in the north. i realized that i should not be able soon to undertake any adventuresome travels, and i could not reach home by any easy stages. while yet a school boy i had practiced with my playmates a simple system of a cipher; with this, which was the easiest form that i then knew for a basis, i worked out in the form of a letter, that i could pass through to baltimore on the blockade runners, a secret communication reciting my discoveries at manassas, etc. it is an easy matter to arrange a system of cipher communication between any two persons, which will be readily and perfectly understood by them alone, or only by those who have been furnished with a key. in my particular circumstances, however, it was necessary that my letter should be a blind cipher, and so worded as not to excite suspicion, or distrust, and it must, besides, carry the key along with it, concealed of course, as i had not had an opportunity of making a preconcerted arrangement. i had intended to propose this to general banks at the interview at harper's ferry, which, unluckily, did not take place, as i have explained. the letter that was sent through the blockade is given herewith, as _copied from the original_, and i shall be glad to have the reader look for the secret information it contains before referring to the key, which follows: "confederate states of america, powhattan hotel, richmond, va., august, - - - - - . "_my dear father:_ - - - . - - "for three weeks i've been quite sick, but am all-right now, and hope, through the kind attention of southern friends of ours in army, to soon be out again. - - - i will be greatly obliged if you will arrange to have money sent without delay, to pay my bills here, which were incurred on account of this most unfortunate sickness. . - - i am satisfied it's impossible to secure from our confederate maryland friends any cash advance, because i know they are all rather short, (having exhausted in getting here about half their money before joining army. since i have been absent from my regiment here sick, i have consumed what balance i had along. we are not at-all discouraged, or demoralized; on the contrary, we look forward to great things under beauregard, who is in front of washington. - - "a greater portion of marylanders stop at blank's, where i am - - - the house is large and pleasantly situated on a street up on top of quite a hill, that overlooks the railroad that runs out to manassas junction. we hope soon to march right on to washington, and drive out the black abolition rascals, and will roll them back through baltimore. of course, all the yankee papers give lying accounts, but official statements will give the proofs of our success. i wish some of the northern congressmen could see ely or covode, who are locked up secure in libby prison; with them are a great lot, officers and prominent men who are looking quite disconsolate through their bars. "i met, sunday night, a couple of young students lately arrived from the georgetown college, who expect to signalize their devotion to the south in some heroic way. from their talk would think the boys fresh from their dormitory dreams of war. i will write again soon; will be glad to hear from home often, please send money soon as possible same way as before, so that i can pay up." the preparation of this letter had given me interesting employment while i was confined to my sick room. though it is quite crude, and would hardly pass the scrutiny of the sharp censorship that was inaugurated later on, but considering the times, and the fact that letters of similar purport were being daily passed through the lines from richmond by baltimore refugees, it was worded so as to perfectly blind those who might see it, and it answered its purpose very well. i had calculated to submit it openly to certain richmond authorities, at a risk of being picked up on their casual inspection. i had been careful to select a blank, headed richmond. no real names were given except covode and ely. i knew very well covode was not at libby, but ely was, and i could see no other way of getting covode's name in, except to mix it with ely's and assume ignorance, if corrected. this letter was not sent to my father's name and address, of course, but was directed to a certain telegraph operator who had been an office associate, and who was at the time in the employ of the military telegraph at annapolis, md. there was a little risk in using his address, but i knew that the fact of the party named on the envelope being in the government service would not be detected in richmond, and the understanding with regard to these letters was, that for a consideration they had been taken into the united states and mailed at baltimore. an additional reason for sending it to this telegraph friend was, that he would be sure to discover the key to the cipher, and would then translate and properly deliver it. if the reader will look at an apparent flourish under the words, "my dear father," as if underscored, he will observe three little dashes like this, - - - and a little further on a careless looking scratch of the pen, resembling . - - this forms the key to the simple cipher, and the same characters are indifferently scattered about the sheet so as to attract only the eye of an operator. the three little dashes represent the morse character for the figure five - - - ( ), while the other signal, a dot and two dashes, is a w, which, when placed alone, is always understood to stand for word. now the operator will be sure to see that , w, while the chances are that no one else but an operator would. the young friend to whom i had addressed this i knew would understand, from the tone of the letter, that it was a blind, and he would search for a different interpretation, and would soon discover the , w, which he would see referred to the fifth word. if the reader will read _only_ every fifth word of this letter he will have the true meaning. _translation._--been all through southern army, again obliged to delay here account sickness impossible confederate advance are exhausted half army absent sick balance are demoralized look under front portion blank's house situated on hill road manassas to washington black roll of papers official proofs wish friend covode secure them officers are there night students georgetown signal south from the dormitory will be home soon as can. the carefully studied phraseology of this crude letter, so that every fifth word which i would insert should properly read both ways had given me considerable trouble, because i was especially desirous that, as a whole, it should at the first glance impress any person to whom i might find necessary to submit it that it undoubtedly emanated from a rebel and a maryland refugee. this thought once established in the minds of those who i anticipated had the censorship of mail matter from strangers, i was satisfied would result in forejudgement, or at least serve the purpose of allaying any suspicion as to it being anything in the nature of a secret communication to the enemy. what to do with my letter was the next important consideration. while yet so weak and thinned, as i was by the three weeks' illness and close confinement, i realized that i must yet continue to live in some such a quiet way as i had during my sickness. it would be folly for me to attempt to travel through the armies in the rough manner that would be necessary if i should try to reach our lines by the underground or by running the blockade. the colored boy who had served me so kindly and so faithfully in the hotel annex, during these three weeks of sickness was partly taken into my confidence. when i began to feel like getting out, and my appetite had improved so as to make increased demands for his service to my room, i suggested to him one day that i hadn't enough money left to pay the bill at the office, and was especially sorry that i could not give him something handsome for his kindness to me. "don't you never mind me, as i don't want no money." it was then that i explained to him that i should like to be furnished a pencil and some paper so that i might write home for some money, etc. the stationery was at once supplied, and, as i had while lying on the cot bed during the long august days blanked out my proposed letter, i proceeded to work my cipher out on paper. my faithful colored boy felt encouraged by my talk with him to offer me some good advice: "you don need to give no money to me, an if i was you i'd not give no money to dem clerks, either. i'd jis tell de ole man, if i was you, and he wont let dem take all you money, and you sick hyar." this advice, offered in his most friendly way, was none the less accepted thankfully, because it came from a slave boy and a waiter, in his own words, as near as i can give it. i learned that the "ole man" was the proprietor of the hotel, and from his further description i gathered that i had not seen him since i had been in the house. the man who had talked about sending me to a hospital, the first days of my illness, was only a clerk, though i had assumed him to be the owner, because he was quite old and had so much to say to me. he was easily "placated," anyway, by the cash i had tendered him, in payment for a week's board in advance. i have wondered often if i were indebted to his pocketing that money, for the fact that my presence was so completely overlooked. i would prefer, however, to give the colored boy the credit for having quietly "done as he was tole, and axed no questions." the "ole man" was an invalid at the time of which i am writing, being confined to his room most of the day. i made some anxious inquiries also about the "ole woman," and was glad to hear that she was "so big an fat she doan go roun much." i was solicitous about the proprietor and his wife, because, you know, a great deal depended upon how he was going to jump after he had found out that i had been in the house two weeks, apparently without the knowledge of the office, and certainly without having paid any board for the time. one nice morning, while feeling pretty fair and bright, i decided to make the break, knowing that i had to do something soon. i gave my letter to the boy to deliver to the "ole man," first, for his information as to the prospects of his getting paid, and, secondly, asking his advice as to the best means to have it sent north. you will observe the apparent burden of my letter is for a remittance of money, and, in the second place, i wanted to get it suitably endorsed or vised by some one well known in richmond, so that i would not have to show up personally in it. with a good deal of anxiety and heartache i waited in my back room for the boy's return, which would bring me this verdict. i dreaded being suspected as an enemy in concealment more than to be sent out on the streets of richmond, though i was so poor that i should soon starve, because too weak to attempt any kind of work. in anticipation of at least the latter treatment, i had dressed myself up carefully in my new suit of clothes, which i had bought the day before i took sick. they had become ever so much too large for me. a severe dysentery can waste a frail human frame considerably in three weeks. when i heard the footsteps of two persons down the long corridors--they had no carpet on that annex--my heart sank within me as they stopped before my door. in another moment my trusted colored boy had thrown open the door; and, as he stood aside to let the other person in, he said: "dar he." i felt sure for the moment that all was lost--that the boy had given me away. when the "ole man" got up close enough i am sure he was struck by my very pale face. i was trembling from the effect of the suspense and tension to my nerves, and could scarcely hold my head up. the "ole man" was not old at all, but a rather thin, benevolent-looking, middle-aged gentleman; he was lame and had apparently been very sick himself; his kindly manner reassured me in part, and when he bade me, "lie right down and keep perfectly composed; we will take care of you, my boy," i did as he directed. i had to drop, and i turned my face into the pillow and sobbed like a big baby for a moment or two, so overcome was i in my weak condition by the breaking strain after and the reversal of feeling, it was so entirely different from anything i had expected. the "ole man" had a few words more of comfort, and, turning to the colored boy, said, rather savagely: "sam, you damn black rascal, why didn't you tell me before that this young man was sick?" sam began to explain by saying: "i done thought you know'd dat." but the "ole man" stopped him abruptly, with: "get out; go and bring some brandy and water up here, quick!" sam was glad enough to get out; and when he came back, in a few minutes, with a couple of glasses on a tray, he was grinning all over as his eye caught mine, as much as to say, "i done tole you so." the "ole man" administered the dose and, after a few more encouraging words, got up to leave, first giving orders to sam: "see that you attend to this young man right after this, you ugly nigger." sam seemed to be immensely enjoying the "ole man's" abuse. i was assured that i should be made easy until such time as i should hear from my friends. "do you know colonel blank, of baltimore?" "no, i didn't, not by that name"--and i had to admit ignorance of quite a number of others that he mentioned to me, saying that his house was a sort of refugee headquarters; he would have some of the maryland boys look in and see me. i didn't like that part of the visit, but there was no way now but to put a bold face on to anything that turned up. i felt that i was so thinned out and pale, my hair closely cut, and otherwise altered, especially by my new clothes, that i should not be recognized by anybody who had recently seen me so ragged in the rebel army at manassas. "in regard to your letter," he said, handing it back to me, "i will have some one see you who understands about getting mail to baltimore. i only know that they do send them, and that answers come here to my house almost every day." in another moment i was again alone, and so overjoyed by the agreeable turn affairs had taken--or by the dose of brandy and water--that i felt almost able to dance a jig. i was free again; that is, i was not burdened every moment by a fear that some one might drop in and discover my presence and begin to ask questions about my past history. feeling so much relieved in mind, i could not resist the temptation to go out of the room to have just one look at the sunshine outdoors. my boy provided me with a stick for a cane, and, with his aid, i walked out the long corridor and stepped boldly into the office. the first person i met was the old clerk who had collected my first week's boarding. "you have treated me very badly, sir." i began to ask an explanation, really not knowing what he meant by making it such a personal matter, when he interrupted me and hurriedly walked off as he saw the "ole man," who was pointing me out to his wife at the moment. i walked along without further interruption, except to attract the attention of people whom we met by my weak, sickly appearance, and, reaching the park, i sat down under the shadow of the virginia state house, which was then the capitol of the confederacy. in one corner of the same grounds the governor's mansion was pointed out, then occupied by governor letcher, while below, or on the lower side of the square, i was shown the building occupied by president davis for an executive office. i was within sight of it all at last, and for two hours i sat there taking everything in, only regretting that my legs wouldn't carry me around more lively, so that i might investigate more closely. when i stumbled back to my hotel i was met at the office by a young clerk, who said he had been directed to introduce me to colonel ----, and would i be seated a moment. i had a right to believe, of course, that i was to meet the maryland people of whom the proprietor had spoken, but i dreaded the interview nevertheless. however, when i saw the colonel was quite an ordinary looking man, with a jolly, round face and pleasant manner, my fears subsided, and i was able to feel easy in his presence. i was introduced to several others as a maryland boy who was unfortunately sick among strangers, and i didn't have to "make up" for the character of a sick youth. my appearance, probably, did have the effect of creating some sympathy, which was kindly expressed to me. the colonel said: "you have a letter to send home i am told?" "yes, sir. i want to get some money very much. i don't want to go home, but would like to send for some money." "ah! yes, of course; that can easily be fixed. all you have to do is to put a united states stamp on your letter." "but don't i have to pay something for the delivery?" "well, no; you don't have to; but, as it goes to a foreign country, you know, we generally pay the messengers a little for the risk." thanking the colonel, i took my letter out of the envelope and begged that he would read it, so that the envelope would have the benefit of his endorsement. he did not think that necessary at all, but i insisted that he should learn of my affairs and my address, so that if anything should happen to me some maryland people would know who i was. that was a good shot, and it took effect, too. he felt that i had given him my entire confidence as a brother exile from home and in distress, and he read my letter hastily--that is, he glanced at the address and the last paragraph, wherein i had especially asked for money. no doubt he was impressed with the truth of the statement i had made--that all maryland refugees were hard up. sealing the letter in his presence, i handed it to him with a tender of a fraction of the money which i had left, to pay the "foreign postage." "oh no," he said. "i will not take your money for this; it's not necessary. where shall your answer be delivered?" this was something i had not thought about, and for the moment i was embarrassed. i remembered that i had referred to my regiment in my letter, and was about to say that the letter could be sent there; then the thought suddenly came over me, "what if i should be questioned on this regiment?" i did not want any talk of this sort, because it would be getting me into rather too close quarters. the colonel, noticing my hesitancy as these thoughts passed through my brain and no doubt mistaking its true import, relieved me by saying: "you had better go along over to colonel jones and be registered, if you have not already done so." i had not attended to this matter of registering my name and address among the refugees from baltimore, and, without knowing exactly what would come of it, i consented to have it done at once, as he had suggested. pointing to a building on the opposite side of the square a little below where st. paul's church is located, he said: "that's colonel j. b. jones' office, and if you can go with me i will introduce you to him, and you can have all your maryland mail come to his care." i walked across the square on his arm, and was formally introduced to colonel jones as a worthy maryland refugee, sick and in distress. i am giving the correct name here, because he became a well-known character in richmond during the war. he impressed me as an agreeable, rather jolly, gray-haired gentleman of the old school, at the time. on the rather tedious and slow walk for me over the square, my companion had explained to me that colonel jones was himself a refugee, having been fired out of philadelphia, where, if i remember aright, he had been printing a weekly paper which had been rather too outspoken in its sympathy for the south, and, as a consequence, it was, perhaps, violently suppressed. the colonel informed me, as we walked along, that president davis had organized the temporary bureau for the registration and general information of refugees and others who might, by the necessities of war, be driven from their homes. it was also understood that any persons desiring information in regard to maryland refugees should apply at this bureau. this was not exactly the sort of a place that i had been hankering to register myself in, but i was in for it now and had to go through with it. colonel jones gave me his courteous attention for awhile, and apparently became interested in the little bit of my "history" that i dealt out to him. it is likely that my sickly, innocent-looking appearance had operated somewhat upon the generous sympathies of colonel jones. he assured me in his most agreeable manner that any time at all that i had a letter for my home to just drop it into his postoffice, and he would see that it went out on the "first mail." this was quite satisfactory to myself and my companion, who had placed the letter in the colonel's hands. i happened to recall that i had read a book over and over again, written by a j. b. jones, that had made a great impression upon my youthful mind, and i had worshiped the name in consequence--the title of the book was "wild western scenes." the colonel laughed heartily, and taking my hand gave me a second jolly shake as he said: "he had met another of his boys--they were turning up every place--wherever he had been some one who had read his book had asked him that question." i had accomplished one very important step--in this, that i had opened communication with washington from my location in richmond. there was danger that my letters _might_ fall into the wrong hands up north; but, as the person who carried them must, for his own protection, keep quiet, it was probable that no effort would be made to look after their destruction, once they were safely placed in uncle sam's postoffice somewhere. i was also liable to be picked up in richmond almost any day by those who had known me at montgomery, pensacola, or, more recently, at manassas, and in beauregard's camp. knowing that i could not travel in the rough manner as indicated, i felt wonderfully relieved to know that the letter just mailed would most surely go through more speedily than i could expect to travel at my best, and it contained in substance all that i could report by a personal trip, which was in effect that: _first_--the confederate army _could not advance_, because thirty per cent. were sick, a great many absent on leave, and the rest as much demoralized after their victory as by our defeat. _second_--that the official documents of the rebel surgeon-general, addressed to richmond, would be found under a certain house as described, where it will be remembered that i had placed them. _third_--that signals were being made from the dormitory of georgetown college to rebel outposts, or pickets who had been students at the college. when this letter would reach my telegraph friend, he would, most assuredly, find the key to the cipher and properly communicate with mr. covode, and through him the information, and i hoped the papers i had deposited would be recovered. i could not have done more than this myself, and, feeling that it was enough for one day's work, i retraced my steps to the top of the hill, on which the hotel was situated, and finding my cot bed again i was glad enough to drop myself into it for a rest without the formality of undressing. soon after sam found me half asleep, when he came up to my room with some supper; his face was covered all over with the happy grin, peculiar to a colored boy, who has only this means of expressing his pleasure. if he knew that i had made a successful explanation of myself, which had relieved us both of the fear of detection, he was too cunning to express himself in words. my maryland colonel, who had so kindly endorsed me to the refugee bureau and franked my contraband mail matter to washington, came to see me in the room late in the evening, bringing with him another refugee whom he introduced as mr. blank, a lawyer from elkton, maryland. i have really forgotten his name, but remember distinctly that he was from elkton, from this circumstance. when i had subsequently returned north, while traveling from philadelphia to baltimore one day, i heard the name elkton called out by the trainman, as we stopped at a country station. i rushed out on the platform on hearing the words and, while the train stopped, inquired of the agent and expressman about this gentleman. they both at once assured me: "oh, yes; he's a great rebel, and had to leave town." the train began to move off, as i was hurriedly telling them about my meeting him in richmond, and the agent became quite interested, following the train along side as long as he could, to get some information of him for his friends, who were living in the town. i heard from them afterward, and, as this elkton lawyer and i became associated somewhat intimately for a month or two in rebeldom, i have mentioned this circumstance by way of an introduction, and so that we will know him hereafter as "elkton." the colonel, i learned, had been a store-keeper in one of the "lower counties," and the twain had crossed the broad potomac together from maryland to virginia one night, and had only been in richmond a month or so. they were, of course, anxious to meet all the other refugees they could hear of, and so it came about that i made their acquaintance. luckily for me, they were both from a section of maryland distant from that which i represented, and neither of them for a moment doubted my "loyalty," but, on the other hand, both of these gentlemen seemed to think it a part of their duty to take care of me; and i take this opportunity to say to elkton, or any of his family who may read this, that his kindness to me has always been appreciated--_but_, i must not anticipate the story--i was invited to share a bed or cot in the same room these two gentlemen occupied. their room was located like the one to which i had first been assigned--the windows overlooking the park. i could from my room see all who entered the capitol building, also had an unobstructed view of president davis' office, as well as that of other prominent officials. this "prospect" was indeed gratifying to me, and, as it may be assumed, much more satisfactory than anything i had yet encountered in the way of "facilities." from my window outlook i ran no risk of detection, as would be the case if i were on the streets all the time. i was naturally most anxious to see president davis, and to my rather eager questions in regard to him--as i look at it now--i was told by the colonel that "the president lives right around on the next corner on the next street. he walks through the grounds to his office every day; i'll show him to you, the first chance." that night i lay down early, and had scarcely gotten into sound slumber, and was, perhaps, dreaming of home, when i was roused gently by the colonel to listen to "the serenade." on the street or pavement in front of the hotel a large crowd had gathered, composed partly of a company of men without uniforms, who had marched in the rear of a band. i was informed that they were the nucleus of a company or regiment which was to be composed entirely of marylanders, who were expected to arrive in richmond by details of three and four at a time. the purpose of the visit that night was a serenade to marylanders, the band having been furnished by kind sympathizers among the richmond people, who took the opportunity to compliment the refugees. now, if i were to say that a band had been known to serenade a yankee spy, the statement would have been laughed at as ridiculous, yet the facts are that the serenade was tendered in richmond, in part at least, to a yankee spy, as the collection was raised for the same in a virginia church. there were but three of us in the hotel that night--the colonel, elkton, and myself--and it was the presence of this trio that had brought the band under our window. they played in a highly effective style, considering the peculiar surroundings, all their own southern airs, among which was "maryland, my maryland." this is a really beautiful air, which is familiar to all who ever associated with any crowd of rebels who could sing. the beautiful air--the significant words so full of pathos and sympathy, especially under the existing circumstances and surroundings--was rendered in a style so sweetly pathetic that the effect produced on my memory that night will never be effaced. after the band had played, all the crowd present, recognizing its appropriateness, gave them with a hearty good will round after round of applause. cries were made for an encore, and, while the excitement it had created was still high, the entire company of maryland recruits burst forth into a full chorus of their own good voices and sang, with even greater effect through, this sweet old war song, "maryland, my maryland." after they had left our hotel, it was understood the band, with the crowd of followers and all the marylanders in the city that had been gathered up, were to call on jeff davis and give him a serenade of "maryland, my maryland." i was not able to attend it, but i suppose the records of the rebellion will show somewhere that jeff davis made a fine speech of welcome to the persecuted exiles from maryland--my maryland. my room-mates had both gotten out of the room at the beginning of the uproar. i lay awake a long time waiting for their return that i might hear the talk of the further serenade at the president's and governor letcher's. they were both full of it, of course. their conversation that night, if reported in shorthand by the spy, who lay awake an interested listener, would make an amusing chapter--read by the light of the present day. i gathered one point from them that i had not thought of before, which gave me some food for reflection. they both intended to unite themselves to the rebel army, but each of them wanted to be officers. if i remember aright, there was some "constitutional" difficulty in the way of president davis forming a maryland battalion--at least, my impression now is, that he could not issue commissions, which was the duty of the governor of maryland, and it was necessary that some sort of a "governor" should help him out of the new state-rights difficulty. they got over it in some way, however, as they did other state sovereignty questions. elkton subsequently became a lieutenant of the rd battery of maryland artillery. i learned from their talk that night that they both expected, as a matter of course, that _i would_ join their maryland battalion. with them, it seemed to be only a question of time, or until i should be sufficiently recovered from my illness. i imagined that i saw in this scheme of theirs a way out of my difficulty to further serve the union. of course, when i should be able to move about it would be necessary to do _something_; that i could not stay at the hotel indefinitely without money was certain, and it was also equally certain that i should not get any money, even in answer to my letter. i had expected to get back by using their underground system, as soon as i would be able to travel by that line. but, as i had opened communication, i realized the correctness of my theory--that i could best serve the north by not _at once_ attempting to return, but by remaining in richmond, to watch and report the progress of events there. one of the first walks i took after getting out of my room was to the house of president davis, which was, and is yet, beautifully located on the top of the hill; indeed, it is almost on the edge of a precipice that commands a view of the low country to the north. the colonel had not observed in my letter the reference to "my regiment." now that it had been sent off without his, or anybody but the sick proprietor seeing it, i was glad to drop any reference to a previous connection with the army at manassas. my story was, in brief, the same old thing, done over to suit the altered condition of things. i had told the colonel about coming through manassas; that i had been delayed there expecting to meet some of my maryland friends, but was taken sick and had come on to richmond for them. that, and the letter, and more especially my appearance, coupled with the greater inducement that he saw a recruit for their maryland battalion, was to them all sufficient. no questions were asked by either him or elkton; they were satisfied themselves, and their cordial introduction of myself to their other friends were enough to fix my status in richmond for the time being. i was kindly treated by all with whom i was brought in contact, through the influence of my two newly-made friends. as i have stated, the first visit was, by courtesy, made to the president's _house_. i did not find it advisable to thrust myself on to mr. davis just then. the next point of greater interest to me was libby prison, where were confined a great number of the officers captured at bull run. i learned, upon cautious inquiries, that libby was situated at the other end of the town, or about a mile distant from the hotel. this was quite a long walk for me to undertake, but i was almost sickened with the everlasting and eternal rebel talk, which i had been forced to hear every day and hour for so long, that i felt in my soul that the sight of one true-blooded union man would do my heart good, even though i saw him through iron bars. at the first favorable opportunity, on finding myself alone, i started out for a morning walk, leading in the direction of libby prison. once on main street, i began to feel a little apprehensive lest i should run against some one in the crowded throng who might recognize me. there were a great many soldiers in gray moving about the streets. it seemed, too, as if everybody i met was staring at me, and probably they were--as an object of pity. i became more accustomed to it, however, as i began to see that the interest being centered on me was probably due to the fact that i had been sick, and showed it in my appearance and walk. i felt more assured, too, when i saw, after awhile, that no person seemed to care much after all who i was, after they had once gratified their curiosity by a stare. i wanted very much to gaze once more on a union soldier, and one, too, who had fought in a real battle against these howling, blowing rebels, even though he were defeated and was then a prisoner. i saw them, lots of them, through eyes that were pretty watery, and with a heart throbbing so hard with a fellow-feeling for them that i was almost afraid that i should lose control of myself, and i turned away. through the barred windows of the prison i could see a room full of the boys in their ragged but still beautiful blue, as compared with the gray of the guard. they talked together in groups; some were laughing heartily, as though they were having a fine time among themselves; others walked up and down the floor with heads bowed and their arms behind them, as if in deep study. occasionally i would catch the eye of some one looking through their bars at me; and, oh, dear, what wouldn't i have given at that moment for the privilege of being one of them--of making myself known with a shout. i felt that moment that it were far better to be a real prisoner of war, even though confined to the dreary walls of libby, than to be as i was at the time, in truth or in anticipation, a prisoner already condemned to execution. though apparently at liberty, i felt as wordsworth writes, that i was not only "homeless near a thousand homes." but, also, that, "near a thousand friends i pined and wanted friends." chapter xvi. richmond--hollywood--jeff davis--breckinridge--extra billy smith--mayor, governor, etc. it should be remembered that i am writing of richmond, as i found it during the beautiful autumn months of september, october and november, . the same conditions did not prevail in the years that immediately followed. it would no doubt have been impossible in to have overcome so easily the obstacles i encountered in - . one other important factor in my favor is, that, after the success of bull run, the southern people generally, and especially those about richmond and manassas, were so enthused as it were by the recent success that they became, for the time being, quite careless and were not disposed to closely scrutinize strangers who happened to be among them. i realized these facts at the time, and profited by it. i began to feel so secure myself that i became quite careless about my own safety, and, as i became stronger each day, i spent pretty much all of my time either on one of the benches in the capitol square or leisurely walking over the streets of the city. it became a daily custom with me to secure early a certain seat in the capitol grounds, from which i could look directly into the front windows of the room which jeff davis occupied for his executive office. i had selected this bench because, from its location, which, by the way, to be exact, i will state was near the statue of henry clay, i could observe every person that either went into or out of the large hall door down stairs, which led to mr. davis' apartments. i was most anxious to get a glimpse of mr. davis, whom i had last seen at the exchange hotel at montgomery during the bombardment of fort sumter. from my position in the grounds i could not, of course, see into the room in which i knew mr. davis was located, but i could imagine, from the number of people who were constantly going and coming, that he must have been kept pretty busy entertaining them. i did not find it advisable at that time to thrust myself upon his attention. it was only after several long waits and disappointments that i was one evening gratified to see my old montgomery friend come out of the hallway in company with the present distinguished senator from texas, hon. john h. regan. they stood together on the steps a few minutes engaged in conversation, when mr. davis, with a courteous bow, turned to his carriage, which was waiting at the curb, the door was shut with a bang, the driver turned his horses, and in a moment more they had disappeared around the corner of the square, as they drove up the hill in the direction of the president's mansion. it was generally understood by my refugee associates that, as soon as i was sufficiently recuperated, i would unite with the other maryland refugees in the formation of a confederate company of volunteers. they had taken me in charge, as it were, and, as they had voluntarily guaranteed my hotel expenses, i could do no less than to tacitly accept the situation. even at that early day there was considerable rivalry in the matter of securing recruits for the newly-forming organizations of the rebel army. one reason of this was that, in their army as it was in ours, at the first of the war the commissions were generally given to those persons who were most active in securing the necessary recruits to fill out a company's quota. while these two maryland gentlemen were quite kind to me and had personally helped me through my sickness, i saw that their object was not altogether disinterested. in vouching for my expenses they were perfectly safe themselves, as it was understood that i should secure the very best bounty that was being paid, and out of this fund it was known i should be able to pay all my sick bills. so you will see how it came about that, while my two guardians were busy most of the day in skirmishing about for their recruits, as well as looking out for their own prospects for commissions, i was indulged in every thing that they could at all assist me in, and was in general terms given the "freedom of the city." it became a favorite walk with me on pleasant afternoons to wander out to the beautiful hollywood cemetery, one of the most lovely spots in all virginia. hollywood has been so fully described, even before and after the war, that i need not attempt it here. with me hollywood had a peculiar fascination during my first visit to richmond, during that fall of --the "melancholy months of that year." i found myself out there frequently, nearly always seeking out the one resting place, which was beautifully situated on the top of the hill, under a grove of large forest trees, close by the tomb of ex-president monroe. the view from this point was superb. directly underneath the hill, which overhung the river like a precipice, were the great falls of the james river, the water of which, coming from the blue mountains of virginia, was splashing over the thousands of immense rocks standing up from the bed of the river, making a wildly-beautiful picture, extending for a mile or two up and down the river. right beneath the cemetery, but out of sight of a rambler in the grounds, the railroad bed had been chiseled out of the hill-side rocks. trains could continually be heard rolling and whistling along, which i knew went near my friends in a few hours at manassas and fredericksburg. near this, on the water's edge, were located the immense tredegar iron works, upon which the confederate government depended almost entirely for their supply of manufactured iron, and i believe they were also turning out at the time some large cannon for their fortifications and ships. i remember that i was impressed at the time, from overhearing a debate in the confederate congress, that the loss or destruction of the tredegar works early in the war would have been one of the most terrible blows that could have been inflicted upon their cause, and i had embodied this statement in one of my "dispatches." one evening a brass band paraded the streets, gathering up quite a crowd of followers. always anxious to see everything that was going on, and a lover of brass music, i "joined in" with the crowd and marched along with the band. we halted in front of the largest hotel in richmond at that time--the spottsword--since burned down--but then located on main street. on inquiring, i learned that the excitement was occasioned by the recent arrival in richmond of the hon. john c. breckinridge, recently the vice-president of the united states and pro-slavery candidate for president. it will be remembered that there had been for quite a long time considerable doubt or uncertainty as to which side of the fence mr. breckinridge would eventually jump. he had remained in washington city up to a very short time previous to his arrival in richmond. one of the facts brought out during his speech that night, in answer to the serenade, was, that he was still a member of the united states senate, he having so arranged it that his resignation would not take effect until he was safe inside of the confederacy. i remember this portion of his talk very well, because at the time it impressed me as being very mean for a man of his standing, who had been so highly honored and trusted by his government, to pretend so long to be neutral, yet knowing all the time in his heart of the purpose to gather information and then desert and betray his government. i felt in my heart then that the numerous southern gentlemen who held official positions and violated their oaths that they might betray their governments, were cowardly spies whose methods were to be execrated, and anything i could do to frustrate them would be honorable in comparison with their service. another point of interest is the "old stone house," which is situated on main street within a square of the libby warehouses. this old stone building, with the curled oak shingles on the roof, was general washington's headquarters. we will pass the colonial and indian periods, the wars of , , - with this one sentence, and hasten up the main street about a mile to headquarters of the commander-in-chief of the war of - . from the windows of my room i had a close view of the city hall building directly opposite, which fronted on broad street. one morning i observed an unusual excitement on the street in front of the city hall. they were apparently preparing for what we would have thought up north was to be a bonfire. of course i became an interested looker-on, but was almost afraid to ask any questions lest i should hear some bad news. i feared that the rebels were about to celebrate some victory over our armies, when i saw them pile in the middle of the street a great heap of kindling wood. the gray-headed man who was then the mayor of the city was apparently overseeing these preparations. i had been in the habit of sleeping late, and while all this was going on outside i was alternately dressing myself and running to the window to watch the proceedings. without waiting for breakfast, i went out on to the street to investigate. the first person i questioned happened to be the hotel proprietor, who said, laughingly: "oh, they are just burning the gamblers' stuff that the police captured on the last raid." it seemed that richmond had, and has yet, a law that compels, or at least authorizes, their judge of police court to destroy by public fire in the open street any material or paraphernalia which has been used, or intended to be used, for gambling purposes. the mayor of richmond in was a mr. mayo. he was certainly an efficient official, as some of the maryland refugees will bear testimony. extra billy smith, who i think had been a governor of virginia, was one evening put into our room to sleep, the hotel being quite crowded, it being the occasion of some virginia state gathering. he was full of talk and kept our crowd aroused and interested until late in the night. he was living, i believe, somewhere in the neighborhood of where the armies were confronting each other. one of his stories, which interested me more than anything else, referred to the death of the brother of the secretary of war, colonel cameron, of the th new york regiment, at bull run. the body of colonel cameron, it seems, had been found after the battle inside of the rebel lines. the news of his death having reached the secretary of war--the hon. simon cameron--he was, of course, very anxious to have the remains sent back into the union line for proper burial in his own state. at that time there was a serious question about the recognition in any official form of the confederate states of america. it was necessary that the secretary of war should address a request in some form to an officer in the confederate army, requesting the "courtesy" of burying the remains of his brother at home. with extra billy smith it was a question of "curtesy" to the confederates, and he related with great gusto the amusement the secretary of war's request for his dead brother's body caused in the confederate officers' quarters, because it was addressed--"to whom it may concern." mr. cameron probably had nothing to do with the formation of the note or request, and it is likely that whoever did it for him was obliged to adopt this, simply because they were ignorant of the names of the proper persons in the confederate army to whom it should have been addressed. at any rate, it was a very contemptible piece of work to reply to the secretary of war that: "the officers of the confederate states of america did not know that his note, addressed 'to whom it may concern,' concerned anybody but himself." i made a mental note of extra billy's share in this business, determined that old simon should have him marked. i presume that about the same general condition of things existed in washington as in richmond at the time i was there. there were undoubtedly rebel spies, and plenty of them, running around loose in washington, not only at that particular time, but constantly during the years of war which immediately followed. the confederates had a very great advantage over us in this regard. washington city and the departments were literally full of their sympathizers, who were able to carry on their work of assisting to destroy the government, which was at the same time feeding them, as they were able to keep up an easy and safe communication through the country about. some of these department rebel spies remained in the union government service not only throughout the war, but even now, after twenty-five years of republican administration, are yet in the government service. in richmond and the country adjacent it was entirely different. if there were any sympathizers with the union cause they were known and closely watched, and this was not a troublesome task for the confederates, as there was not enough of it to occupy much of their attention. as a rule, the colored people were friendly to us, but they were at that time all poor, frightened, ignorant slaves, who dare not, under penalty of the most severe whipping, indicate by the slightest sign that they had any interest in a union man. the colored people in richmond were forbidden to assemble in any number together. if a half-dozen slaves would accidentally get together to talk over the matters of life and liberty, that were so dear to them, it was the duty of any white citizen to order them to disperse. it is not generally known, and may be even doubted by the present generation of virginians, that there was such a law, but it is a fact. colored men were not permitted into the capitol square at certain times, being excluded by the same municipal law that applied to stray dogs. it is but just to say that this rule did not apply to richmond alone, but to washington as well. in , and previous to the war, the colored boys and girls, as they were all called, even though they were grandfather and mother, were not allowed to enter the capitol or president's grounds at washington. they were only permitted to peer through the bars of the great iron fence that then surrounded the grounds. every day, as regular as my meal-time occurred, i walked over into the capitol square and took my accustomed seat on the bench which gave me such good opportunities to see every person who entered president jeff davis' office, as well as a chance to observe the crowd that attended the proceedings in the capitol building. i did not give their congress very much attention, because their business seemed to be to talk only. i was interested only in the war office, and especially in president davis. the virginia legislature was also in session at the capitol. we had a room-mate with us for several days who was a member of the state legislature from somewhere in the mountain district. our maryland refugee, friend elkton, and this virginia delegate, who was inclined to doubt the power of the president as compared with that of the governor of virginia, were continually discussing the question among themselves at night after we had all gotten to bed, very much to the disgust of the colonel and myself. governor letcher seemed at the time to be a "bigger man" in richmond than jeff davis. the governor occupied an elegant mansion, which is beautifully situated in one corner of the capitol grounds, while president davis' "white house" was a large red brick building, situated right on the street, a few squares back of the capitol, with only a small yard for grounds. it is a double house or a square building, with a hall through the middle and a number of rooms on each side. it was beautifully located in what may be called an independent position. i mean by this that there were no other houses immediately adjoining, but a yard or lot on each side as well as the rear. this lot or garden was enclosed by a brick wall. i frequently strolled up there to get a glimpse of the president, whom i considered to be in my care and keeping, to a certain extent, so that i learned to know his habits or hours of arriving and leaving the house. i am not competent to make a pen portrait of mr. davis. he appeared to me at montgomery and at richmond in as quite a pleasant, but ordinary looking gentleman of middle age. he was usually dressed in dark gray clothes of the frock coat or prince albert pattern. i think ordinarily in a dark steel gray. his face was rather thin; the jaws being firmly set gave him rather a dyspeptic appearance. jeff davis has only one eye, which fact i learned quite early, and i always endeavored in my intercourse with the president to keep on the blind side of him. the one good eye was bright enough at that time, and i almost felt from his sharp glances toward me that he suspected me. one day it was reported that the president would review a regiment of north carolina cavalry which was then organizing and had been in camp at the fair grounds. this was a long walk for me, but i had become sufficiently strong to undertake almost anything--at least i so felt--and as it would never do to miss this opportunity to see jeff davis in a military capacity, i started out to the fair grounds early in the day reaching there a couple of hours before the review was announced to take place, and sat down under the shade of the fence to watch and wait. the cavalrymen and their officers were busy cleaning up their horses and dressing up for the occasion. one troop was drilling on a distant part of the field. at the proper time the entire regiment were mounted, and, after a good deal of coaxing, and some cussing, they were formed into long lines, which a full regiment of horse makes. the colonel of this regiment was the present senator from north carolina, hon. m. w. ransom. i heard some of the lookers-on among the crowd, in which i had placed myself, say: "the officer did not dare attempt manoeuvering the cavalrymen, because they were all green tar-heels from north carolina, mounted on fresh horses, and if they would get out of the line, in which they were placed with so much difficulty, there would be such a circus, or hippodrome, in the fair grounds that we would all have to climb the fence for safety." we waited patiently and in crowds all the afternoon for the president to come. it was until after his office hours, or about five o'clock p. m., that a half-dozen horsemen rode through the gate, and, amidst a blast from a dozen buglers, the president and staff trotted up to the front. to return the salute due the president we have pretty nearly all been through an inspection, and know how it ought to be done, so i need not attempt to describe it here. president davis and his staff, dressed in plain, citizens' clothes, rode along the front of the line, his one sharp eye seeming to take in every man from horses' hoofs to their caps. he turned slowly around to the rear of the line, and rode close to where i happened to be standing at the time, and to this day i remember the sudden, sharp glance as his eye caught mine. perhaps it was imagination or a guilty conscience that gave me the feeling at the time, but, whatever it was, i felt a shock. after the ordinary forms of a review had been gone through with, to the accompaniment of a half a dozen or so bugles, the president and his party dismounted and held an informal reception to the officers and the crowd at the colonel's headquarters. i did not stay for this reception, because i was not, after that glance, particularly anxious to see jeff at close quarters. i started back to the city on foot. i had gotten almost into town when i heard the presidential party coming along the road behind me. as they came up, i stopped and was standing alone by the side of the road as president jeff davis passed. he was then talking pleasantly with some one who was riding along side of him. seeing me, mr. davis turned away around, probably so his good eye could get me in range, and gave me another look, that pretty nearly convinced me that he had recognized in me the montgomery spy. i do not suppose he gave the subject another thought, if he had at all entertained it, but i was made quite uncomfortable by the incident, which served to put me on my guard. i was becoming too careless. indeed, i went to libby so often that i began to get acquainted with a couple of the rebel guards, who had a little camp on some vacant lots on the opposite side of the street. i had noticed that a few enlisted men from among our prisoners had been detailed by the rebel officers to carry water and otherwise wait upon or assist in preparing the rations for the union prisoners. of course these men were always accompanied by a home guard, in gray clothes, who carried a loaded gun. [illustration: i whispered to him as i went past: "norfolk is taken."] i had formed a rather foolish notion that it would be a great satisfaction to our prisoners if i could open communication with them, or, at least, that it would gratify them to let them know they had a friend who was at liberty in this city and anxious to serve them. i gave this up after one trial. one day while loitering in that neighborhood, as usual, i passed on the pavement the customary rebel guard accompanying a couple of fellows who carried a bucket of water in each hand. it was about the time that norfolk was taken by the union troops, and, as it had been the only piece of good news that i had heard for so long, i was feeling quite elated over even that much, so, when i saw this procession of water-carriers coming up the street, i impulsively concluded at once to convey that information to our poor fellows inside the warehouse. they had stopped and set down their buckets to rest. picking out a big, good-natured looking fellow in the blue clothes, who was one of the water-carriers, to experiment on, i walked up to him; without stopping at all or even looking at him, i whispered to him as i went past: "norfolk is taken." never turning my head, i was walking on hurriedly when the blamed fool sang out after me so everybody could hear: "what?" he didn't hear anything further from me. i had nothing more to say. luckily the guard was as stupid as the prisoner, and no notice was taken of it. close by libby prison is rockett's, or the landing point in the river below the falls for all the shipping that comes up the james river from the ocean. at these wharves ocean vessels drawing eighteen and twenty feet landed their cargoes in the piping time of peace. it is one of the busiest points about the city, but during the blockade, while the union troops occupied fortress monroe, and subsequently norfolk and the lower part of the james river, it was quite dull. there were, i believe, some gun-boats being fitted out here, and a few smaller-sized vessels were running irregularly up and down the james as far as they could go, without encountering their own torpedoes, union batteries, and war-ships. my interest in this place was accidentally aroused (as was newton's discovery of gravitation by the fall of an apple from a tree) by the reflection, while listlessly throwing sticks of wood out into the stream, that they would naturally float into the union lines in a few hours--the river that goes on forever certainly reached the union gunboats, and i reasoned that if the water went to the union gun-boats, that, of course, i could do the same by simply going with the stream. this was good logic if it was not good sense. i felt that the details for such a voyage would be easily enough arranged. i gave the matter my careful study, looking up all the maps that i could find bearing upon this river, and cautiously questioning every old colored cook, or seaman, that i could safely run against who had sailed up and down the river and could give me any information. in this way i was able to learn by detail pretty closely the location of the rebel batteries along the river, and also to ascertain as nearly as was possible just where i would find a union gun-boat or battery. my experience on ships of war at pensacola had not been exactly pleasant, but i knew very well that, once at fortress monroe, i could be quickly identified from washington, and all would be safe enough. i determined that, when i should return, it would be via the james river and the bay. i preferred the risk of drowning or being blown up by torpedoes in the river to another chase over the hills through the rebel lines of manassas, and, as i was in no condition for that long walk that night, i thought it would be more comfortable to have the water to float me out of rebellion into the union and under the old flag. governor letcher, of virginia, frequently entertained great crowds of citizens at the elegant mansion provided by the state for her governor. it seemed to me that the people of richmond gave more attention to their governor than to president davis. i could hear occasionally of some friction between the confederate government and the state government. of course, they did not allow this to become generally known, but there was certainly a good deal of this feeling at richmond, even as early as , which increased in bitterness as the years rolled on. the state of virginia had, before the war, a regularly organized standing army of its own. of course, there were but a few of these "regular" troops, who were not at all like the militia of other states, but a permanent establishment, with a separate uniform of their own, and under the pay and control of the governor of the state of virginia. these few virginia troops were distinct from the confederates. their principal duty seemed to be to act as a sort of "pope's guard" to governor letcher. there were always several of them on duty about the capitol grounds in the capacity of guards or police; and, as a consequence, there were numerous conflicts between the confederate officers and soldiers, who were quite numerous in the city at that time, with this governor's guard. i saw one altercation which resulted in a shooting and running match--the confederate winning over what he termed the "liveried hireling" virginia yankee. i had been giving the telegraph office a pretty wide berth during the early part of my stay in richmond, fearing that i should meet some one who had known me at manassas. i began, however, to stop at the large glass windows of their main street office, to stare in, like the rest of the curious loungers who were attracted by the mysterious tickings of the instruments, which were in sight from the street, the causes of mysterious movements and sounds of which were at distant points. in those days operators who could read by sound were not so numerous as they are now, and it was never thought necessary to attempt to prevent any person from hearing the sounds of the instruments. i was always very careful to first scrutinize the faces of all the operators before any of them should have an opportunity to first see me. as i have previously stated, an expert operator can read by the sight of the moving armature, or lever, which makes the sound. this was the way in which i had to attempt to read those instruments from the pavement on the main street of richmond. to make this plainer to those who are not familiar with the mysteries of the telegraph, i will explain that the right and left motions, or swingings, of the signal flags, which were used in the army, represent exactly the same principle of reading characters by movement. this can be done through even so small a space as that usually taken by a ticking lever of a telegraph instrument, and its operation may be as light and quick in its action as the hand of a watch. chapter xvii. richmond--a close shave. my telegraph operations were interrupted for a while by a personal incident, that occurred while i was still supposed to be on "sick leave." one night i was in the barber shop of our hotel, getting myself primped for an evening out with my maryland boys. while lying back in the barber's chair, all covered up with lather and towels, i was startled to see through the glass, in my front, an apparition that had as great an effect on my nerves for the time as the traditional story of the devil looking over the shoulder of those who worship the looking-glass too much. i beheld, like a ghost, walking right up to my barber the superintendent of the railway station at manassas--the identical gentleman to whom i had been sent by general beauregard, and who would, of course, at once recognize me. my barber held his razor in his hand while he stopped to tell this gentleman that "_his turn would be after me_." it will not be possible for me to describe the sensations that i experienced the day when startled by the apparition, which appeared as though looking through a glass window in front of my chair. standing apparently in front of me was the one person, of all others, that i most particularly desired to avoid meeting in such a place as the capital of rebeldom at this time. of course he must have learned, from the officers at headquarters, of my attempted escape to washington, via fairfax and munson's hill, and the subsequent chase through the woods the following night, in common with all the rest of the officials with whom i had been in contact about the telegraph offices at manassas. he would, upon learning of this attempt to get away, recall all that i had been doing about the telegraph office during those few days; and, if careful examination were made into my past history, i knew that they must discover my true character. while talking to my barber about his turn, this gentleman stood right behind my chair, so close to me that his arm almost touched my bare head, that was lying back on the cushions. he looked in the glass while talking, stroking his face which certainly needed the attention of a barber, as he had just come from the front. my face was entirely covered with the soapy lather. the barber stood with his razor suspended over my head as he talked to the "customer." i am sure my face must have first turned as white as the lather. when i spied this gentleman, if i had not been already lying down, i am afraid that i should have suddenly collapsed, or have attempted to run off. as it was, being so muffled up in towels, and so completely disguised or masked by lather, and fastened, as it were in the stocks, by mere fright, i was prevented from making an exhibition of myself, and lay there for the time being as distressed as a wounded soldier on an amputating bench under the hands of surgeons, and as helpless as if under the influence of ether. he was so much interested at the appearance of his own face, as he saw it in the glass over my head, that he did not closely scrutinize me; in fact, he could have only recognized me at that time, perhaps, by my eyes and upper portion of the face. and while he stood there i half closed my eyes, and purposely corrugated my brow. it was, of course, something of a relief to my suppressed emotions when, after an admiring stare at himself, he was sufficiently satisfied to go off and sit down among the other persons who were waiting their turn. i breathed a little freer, and gave such a great sigh of relief that the barber who was shaving me looked down at me with something of an expression of wonder in his black face. i quietly recovered myself, however, and began instinctively to plan to get out of that shop as quietly and as quickly as possible. it would not do to get out of the chair, which had concealed me so well, until this dangerous apparition itself should be shrouded in a napkin and laid out on the chair, so that he could not have a free view when i should be ready to get out. he must not follow me in the chair i was occupying, as that would probably put us face to face, as when i should rise to give place to him. to prevent this, in an undertone i told the barber that i had been suffering with a toothache, and if he would give me a careful and slow shave and wash, that i would allow him double pay for the greater time he would have to put on me. this was a successful and cheap way of getting out of so great a pickle. i had the satisfaction of seeing mr. superintendent invited into a chair a little way over from where i was located, and he had no sooner got safely tucked in than, i fear, i rather abruptly told my man: "that will do; i will go now." the suddenness and celerity with which i crawled out of the chair and hauled on my coat and sneaked out of the door must have surprised that barber, and, if he had seen me get along the street and around the corner into the hotel office, he would have been puzzled still more. a glance at the hotel register showed not only the name of the superintendent at manassas, but also that of another well-known railroad man, who had been about the station at manassas nearly all the time i was up there. without asking any questions, i stalked straight to my room, with a determination to gather up any valuables that had accumulated during this sick time, and to at once put as much distance as possible between myself and the ghosts that i had just encountered. i did not have the remotest idea, at that time, as to _where_ i should go. my only desire was to get away from richmond and out of virginia as quickly as i possibly could. i was homesick. there is nothing that will make a man or a boy so awfully homesick, when away from home and realizing that you cannot get there, as to meet with some such "unpleasantness" as this. it is a much more satisfactory thing, as i know from subsequent experience, to meet your enemy on a skirmish line, knowing the gun in his hand is cocked and loaded, than it is to run across him while unarmed on his own dunghill. i did not like the idea of being "caught" as a spy. i always had more dread of the attendant humiliation connected with the probable surroundings of a prisoner, who was a recognized spy, than of the final danger. when i reached my room, i found my two clever maryland refugees there. probably my manner and appearance still showed some signs of my agitation, as they both immediately became interested in me. the colonel, who was the jolly fellow of this trio, said, laughingly: "hello, boy, what have you been up to?" fortunately for me, they both attributed my apparent embarrassment to a trifling matter, and did not pursue it further. elkton, the older and more staid member of the refugee band, told me, with great glee and pleasure, that he had received an assurance from the rebel war department that his quota, or the detachment of refugees that he had been gathering up, would be specially provided for as a part of a maryland company of light artillery which was then organizing. he would be the first lieutenant of this company, and, as such, would, of course, see that _his_ boys were well taken care of. it was further explained that his quota would be permitted to form a detachment of itself, or, at least, it would be so arranged that one section of this proposed battery would be in charge of his own men. this plan was not exactly what elkton and the colonel had calculated upon when they left their comfortable maryland homes to join the forces of the rebels. elkton probably expected to be at least a colonel, and the colonel himself evidently considered himself entitled to at least a lieutenant-colonelcy in the confederate armies. they might have attained to this position if they could have furnished sufficient recruits themselves to have filled out a regiment. as it was, they were sadly and sorely disappointed in not finding the rush of refugees from maryland which they had expected, and they were obliged to be satisfied with the best they could get, which was a lieutenancy for elkton, and a sergeantcy for the colonel. in all these talks and plans, it had been calculated by both of these gentlemen that i should, as a matter of course, join the army--as one of their detachment. i never intended to do this. under the peculiar circumstances under which i was placed, resulting in my sickness in the enemy's camp, and in order to further my own purposes and objects, which were solely to better collect information for the use of the government, i had allowed them to think that i would at the proper time go with them. everything is fair in love and war. this sort of artifice or scheme for deceiving a traitorous enemy in time of war, adopted on a large scale by the best generals, is termed by them "strategy"--but however disinterested the motives or inspiration of patriotism of a spy, who encounters for his country even an infamous death, his work has been recognized as something necessary, but "treacherous." while i am not attempting the writing of an essay, yet i may be permitted to insert here that "the work or the purpose of a spy is not more 'treacherous' than that of a general's 'strategy.' both necessarily imply deceit. there is only a difference in rank or degree." very often the spy's "treachery" enables the general to apply his "strategy," and, perhaps, the poor spy has made the success of some of the greatest generals possible. my desire was to stave off as long as possible this plan. i hoped, _before_ the necessity for it should occur, to get away from them and return home. so it came about that the time was approaching when i must either enlist or leave, and as i had that day so narrowly escaped an encounter, or detection in the barber shop, i decided very quickly in my own mind that i should leave. as previously indicated, i had studied as far as possible from all the maps that i could get access to, and learned pretty well the topography of the james river country. my maryland friends who had come over had fully explained their trip by the potomac river crossing, and i gathered at once that their route was very like what fisherman call a set-net--it was a very easy matter to get into the net, but it was difficult to find the way out again. in fact, it was only the favored few who were in the service of the confederate government that were permitted to escape backward. i knew very well that i could offer no satisfactory reasons for going in that direction, and that, if discovered in attempting to do so, it could not help but lead disastrously to me. i kept pretty close to my room, being taken conveniently "sick" for a day or two. the leaves on the large trees in the park were beginning to take on their beautiful autumnal colors. the air itself seemed to be clearer and more bracing, and i again began to feel well enough--was ready to undertake almost anything in the way of adventure. one evening, when the colonel and i were alone, he told me that elkton, who had been almost a daily visitor at the war office--looking after his commission--had learned on direct authority that: "the army under generals johnston and beauregard will very soon advance, and we must get in at once, because," he added in great glee and with significant emphasis, as he tapped me familiarly on the shoulder as he uttered each word: "the plan is to march into maryland, and capture washington and _relieve_ baltimore." this was the most interesting bit of news that i had heard for some weeks, and its dramatic recital set my nerves all up to a high tension. eager to learn more, i questioned the voluble and confiding colonel, who was eager enough to talk. "oh, i know it's true; and, my boy, i tell you truly that, before very long, we will march right into that portion of maryland from which you came." i was further encouraged to enlist with them, when the colonel said: "why, my dear boy, we will all soon march home to 'maryland, my maryland,' and be received by our friends in our gray uniforms." this last part of the programme rather stumped me. i was not particularly desirous that any of my friends should "receive _me_ in gray uniform." i shared his enthusiasm in one respect, however--that it would be glorious to be doing something once more--and i even hoped they would move into maryland, as that would serve to stir up mcclellan and the north. i saw in this proposed advance into maryland a good chance to again safely go through beauregard's army, which i was willing to risk in this shape if, by so doing, i could learn of any proposed movement of the rebels on to washington, knowing very well that once in that country, in a rebel uniform, i could safely "advance" into maryland some hours, and perhaps days, before the rebel army, so that our friends could be prepared to suitably give their distinguished military visitors a warm reception, and entertain them in the proper form after they should arrive. the colonel went out to the bar to take a drink. i sat down and built up another cipher letter, in the same key as i used in the former. it was about the same form as the preceding, being carefully worded, so as not to excite any suspicion. the real information which it conveyed to my northern correspondent was to this effect, briefly, as each fifth word read: "proposed advance north via upper potomac." it was short and to the point, because i had not time--at least i thought i should not have--to "cipher out" a longer dispatch, as i wanted to get this through quickly. with this in my hands, i joined the colonel down stairs, and together we walked along to colonel j. b. jones' office, and on the other side of the square. the evening previous, while venturing out, i had first been careful to ascertain, by a cautious inspection of the people about the hotel, before i should approach any of the groups of men always loafing about the hotel, that my superintendent from manassas was not among them. i cautiously inspected the register, and, at a favorable opportunity, remarked to the gentlemanly clerk, as if i were surprised and delighted at the discovery: "why! is mr. superintendent here?" the richmond hotel clerks are like the same fellows every place else, and he did not deign a response to my inquiry as he was talking to another party. i looked, perhaps, rather inquisitively at him, finally attracting his attention, as he turned to a colored boy and said, apologetically: "show this gentleman up to ." "oh, no! never mind; i'll not disturb him to-night; i'll see him again." i didn't ask any further questions. the next morning i was greatly relieved to learn from a colored porter that the superintendent "had gone off on de early cahs." it was late in the evening when the colonel and i called on colonel jones with my letter. i remember this, from the fact that the genial colonel was preparing to close his office for the night, but he kindly took charge of my open letter, and, without a word of question, placed it in a pigeon-hole, in which were quite a number of other sealed letters. i asked, with an assumed expression of deep interest and anxiety in my manner, if the colonel had any letters for me. "nothing at all undelivered," he said, as he politely expressed his regret at having to disappoint me. i felt so sorry, too, and with a sigh of relief and an uttered hope for better luck next time, bade the colonel a good-night. this information of the threatened invasion of maryland, and the capture of washington and baltimore, had apparently put new and fresh blood into my veins. i felt that i _must_ find out all about it, because i was in richmond for that purpose, and if i failed or permitted so important an event to be planned and put into operation right under my own eyes, it would prove pretty conclusively that as a spy, or scout, i was not reliable, and, after enduring so much hardship, i could not afford to fail in this important matter. so i told the colonel that i was most anxious to go with him and elkton to maryland as a rebel soldier. while they were arranging the details with the war office, and some of the other maryland refugees with whom we were to be consolidated, i put in my time scouring every avenue of information that i could think of, for some confirmation of the reported plan to advance. i was more deeply interested in this than i can explain; because, aside from my personal feelings and sympathies, i had, as will be remembered, a month or two previously advised our government that an advance was impossible, on account of so much sickness and general laxity of discipline, etc. but that information was based upon a condition of things which existed shortly after the battle of bull run. it was now about the first part of october, i think, and during the time that had elapsed the condition of affairs at manassas had changed very much, of course. the rebel army had been sick--like myself--but had now sufficiently recovered to carry the campaign further, and be in good shape for an offensive movement. the confederate authorities at richmond were fully posted on all that was being done at washington. i am not sure but that there was a daily mail from the north. i wanted very much indeed to learn something about the manner of this system of communication, but i was always afraid to meddle too much about it while i was in richmond, lest i should get picked up by some of the knowing ones among the rebel spies and sympathizers, who were even in the employ of our own government. it was intimated in my hearing, while in richmond, that the wife of president lincoln was at heart in sympathy with the south; and that her brother, a mr. todd, who was in the confederate service, was in communication with her. no person of good judgment ever believed in this story. i only mention it because some of the rebel officers talked of the matter in a self-satisfied way. one of my regular morning walks in richmond was to go to the newspaper office, in main street, to read their daily, which was posted on a file outside of their office. there was usually quite a crowd about the office early in the day, because paper was becoming quite scarce in rebeldom and a daily paper was too expensive a luxury for every one to enjoy, especially in my circumstances. i found, too, while standing about in the crowds, that i could overhear a great deal of comment on the news--that was more satisfactory to me as a spy than the news the paper contained. the richmond press regularly quoted the principal new york papers of only a day or so preceding. of course, all the unfavorable criticism of the union military officers, and especially the opposition to the administration of lincoln on the part of northern copperheads. if some of these old coppers could have been in richmond while under the confederate free government, and have experienced something of the "gratitude" extended to them in their words of comment, it would have been a benefit to the country, in this way--that it would have dried up a great deal of northern sympathy. it seemed to me to be the general sentiment among southern people of the more intelligent class, in response to this exhibition of copperhead sympathy, was oftenest expressed in words similar to this: "why don't they come over and help us now?" "what are they talking about so much; why don't they come on?" if i heard that sentiment expressed once, i've heard it perhaps hundreds of times, in different forms; but it seemed to me, even then, that there existed a general contempt on the part of the better people south for those in the north who sent their sympathy and encouragement through the newspaper exchanges. on main street, nearly opposite the newspaper office, was the general telegraph office, through which all communications by telegraph was had to all parts of the southern confederacy. inside, the office was arranged pretty much in the same general way as a bank: there was a high counter dividing the room lengthwise; that is, from the front about two-thirds of the way back, where it turned in an l-shape across the room. the front door opened into this office. around the walls were placed the usual conveniences for writing messages, which were to be handed in at the little windows through the glass counter. i called frequently at the office for a message, which i pretended to be expecting. it never came. but i was not discouraged, and kept up the visit until the delivery clerk got to know me so well that he would answer my question before i put it. i thought it would be well enough to try something through this channel, and every time i went inside the office, i lounged listlessly about long enough to hear the sound of the instruments, and i never failed to hear _something_ from the sound of the brass-tongue tickers, but that something always happened to be of no consequence. it would usually be some private message, or perhaps a long order from the army headquarters office about some commissary stores. i remember that i was impressed at the time, from the amount of telegraphing going on on that subject, that there was certainly a war between the commissary departments at richmond and the officers in the front. i did not dare tarry too long at a time, for fear that my constant attendance at the office might excite some suspicion. it was only while i was on the alert to get something tangible about the proposed movement of the army that i was willing to take some extra risks to obtain official information. it was evident, from the increased activity about the offices of the war department, that something was up. since i had heard of this proposed advance, i was giving the departments considerable attention, and rarely missed an opportunity to see as far as i could from the outside what was going on inside. from my bench, under the trees in the park, i could see that the office was being besieged almost constantly by crowds of people, mostly members of their congress, who had to pass my seat on their way from the capitol building to the war department. they went in groups of two to four at a time; sometimes a congressman would be accompanied by an officer in the gray uniform. as they passed me, their conversation seemed to be animated--in short, there was a general feeling among the crowd, as far as i could gather anything, that something important was pending. yet i had no facts--simply surmises, and gossip. i could not learn much at the telegraph office, and had about abandoned the attempt in that direction, until i struck a plan that was a little risky, but, under the circumstances, i felt justifiable in undertaking almost anything. noticing a messenger leaving the war department, i followed him at a respectful distance. he went straight to the telegraph office; so did i. i entered the door just a moment after him, and was carelessly edging toward the delivery clerk, to put my stereotyped interrogation to him, when he said in my hearing to the messenger: "shall we send dispatches _from the president_ to mrs. davis at her home to-night?" "there wont be any; he is expected back to-night." jeff davis was at manassas then. i felt really as if i had been derelict in my duty, in thus permitting the president to go out of town without my knowledge and consent. but he was coming back; that was comforting to me. i felt sure now that the rumors of an advance had been confirmed. i knew something was in contemplation, and i should not leave richmond at that time--certainly not until i had ascertained what it was that they proposed doing, and when it was to be done. i went straight to my room, wrote a short dispatch--a rather crude one--the translation of which was that: "jeff davis had been to manassas; something up." and before i slept it was in colonel j. b. jones' postoffice. chapter xviii. richmond on an autumn morning--a group of good looking soldiers--jeff davis passed by--the battle of ball's bluff--richmond newspapers. while i felt that my "dispatch" would ultimately go through to its destination at washington all right, i was yet quite uneasy about this talked-of advance of the rebels into maryland, fearful that it might take place at once, or before my information could reach the north, through the blockade mail service, which was necessarily a little bit slow and uncertain. this fear kept me awake long after i had gotten into bed; and as i lay there alone in my room, in a richmond hotel, brooding over the dangers of a rebel invasion into maryland and the humiliation that would attach to the capture or flight of president lincoln and his officers from washington, i became, i expect, somewhat wild and frenzied, and again resolved to myself, while in this disordered and disturbed frame of mind, that i would "stand by jeff davis"--for awhile--that for one, _he_ should not go to washington. i had been away from home now since july, during which time i had heard only of the union army through the rebel sources, and, of course, everything favorable had been suppressed, while all the weaknesses or shortcomings of our northern forces had been greatly exaggerated. i had heard so much of this sort of talk during these three months that i had, perhaps, come to believe in a great deal of it. i was young but not inexperienced. we soon learned how to interpret the numerous war rumors and gossip of the soldiers of both sides--a little later on. every recruit, perhaps, has suffered--in anticipation--more from the "chin" of old veterans about a camp-fire, who always knew more of the proposed movements of the generals than they did themselves. so it was that i was compelled to listen to the wild talk of the enthusiastic refugees, my colonel and elkton, after they came into the room that night. it was late--they had been having some fun, and were feeling greatly exhilarated over the street rumors of the coming fight. i do not mean to insinuate that they were tipsy, just because the colonel got in bed without taking his clothes off, for he was able to talk plainly and volubly until he fell asleep from exhaustion. the talk of those two fellows that night, about the dreadful things that were going to happen soon, had about set me wild, and i felt as if i should get out of bed and walk right straight up to washington before daylight and tell uncle abe all about it. but i fell asleep, too, and dreamed, perhaps, as wildly as i had been planning. there was one point settled in my mind, and that was that it was my best plan to remain in richmond, at least, until something sure was discovered about the rebel plans. another was, that if i kept up my friendship with these two lively old boys, who thought they were taking care of me, that i should more easily get fuller and more satisfactory information. i was obliged, in order to prolong my stay, to go with them into their maryland artillery. i could also more safely reach our army through the cover or disguise of a gray uniform. as they were to go to the front at once, i was willing to do anything that was necessary for the good of the government, but i wanted very much to avoid as long as was possible the approaching necessity for joining the rebel army as a means to further my ends and objects. i had already staved it off a long time. i could have returned to the north via the james river without trouble, and i had all my arrangements completed to do so, when the reported advance of beauregard reached my ears, and i had delayed purposely to learn something about this. while there had been no active operations, i had worked hard and faithfully in secret. i had opened and kept up communication with our government--through the rebel channels--that was one great success. i was also on hand in their territory, and on the alert to discover and report any further information. i had probably at last discovered something important was pending, and i decided to stay and see it out. the next morning i was out of my bed early, and in the park before my two comrades were out of their beds. i wanted to see if jeff davis had returned to richmond, and, after breakfast, i took my accustomed walk, from which i could obtain a view of his office door. i can recall that beautiful autumn day on the capitol grounds as distinctly as if was but a day or two ago. the trees were putting on their most beautiful shades of color, the air was fresh and bracing, and i, having fully recovered from my recent weakness, was again so well and bright that i almost felt in my youthful, impulsive way, that it would be an easy task to go right up to manassas that day to see what mr. davis was doing, and, if his movements were not satisfactory, i could continue my walk on to washington. there were at all hours of the day a great many people in the park. they were of all kinds, from the provisional congressman and virginia state assemblyman, confederate government, down to refugees, citizens, soldiers and spies. as i have previously said, there was always to be seen in this beautiful square any number of people, and on this october morning it seemed as if every person who wanted to go any place in the city were making it convenient to walk through the square to their destination. there was eternally some confederate soldiers and officers loafing about on the benches. i had become so accustomed to the boys in gray, in the streets, that i had forgotten to be at all afraid to meet with and to talk to them. this morning in particular i was perhaps unduly reckless, because i was so eager to obtain some further information about this advance. seeing a group of three nice looking soldiers talking together, a little distance from where i stood, i determined on the spur of the moment to join them, and, if an opportunity was afforded me, i would try to learn from them what they knew of the rebel plans. a group of three soldiers on a lark is not exactly the source that i would have applied to for information of an army's proposed movements six months later, but, as i have said, i was young then and fresh in the war service. i approached, and addressed the boys a mild and meek inquiry as to a good place to enlist in "our army." this was a question that interested them all, and every fellow was at once eager to give me the desired information, which was to the effect that they had the very best captain in the army. they belonged to louisiana, they said, and were recruits from new orleans, and were on their way then to join the army at manassas, having arrived in richmond the day previously, and were laying over until the officer in charge secured some necessary transportation or other authority at the war office. i was urged to go with them. they declared that there was to be some great fun soon--that their officer knew all about it and had told them of the plan for the campaign. the story they had did not differ materially from that i had heard from our own boys, and i judged safely enough that, as they were but recently from new orleans, they could not know much more about the army at manassas than i did. while we talked together these few moments, we all stood in a close group on one of the broad walks, the conversation being carried on with such a degree of earnestness on their part that we scarcely noticed the persons who were constantly passing us, until one of the virginia police-soldiers came up to us with his gun and politely ordered the crowd not to block up the way. we moved off a little and sat down to finish the contract they had undertaken--of inducing me to join them. the police-soldier walked off a little piece, and then, taking a position where two paths joined, he stood like one of the statues for a moment; then, as if suddenly imbued with life, his arms flew about as he brought his gun to a "present." passing him were two gentlemen--one quite portly and red-faced, the other a slender thin-faced gentleman in a dark suit of steel gray. as they came closer, we all watched to see who they might be, as the guard had saluted. the big-faced gentleman was doing all the talking--the thin-faced one was close to me before i recognized him. he was so intent on hearing the old man's talk that he did not look toward us at all; and, after they had passed, i said to the soldiers: "that's president davis!" they were, of course, all anxious to get another glimpse of their great man, and one of them hastily followed after while one of the others said in his slow, deliberate way: "i thought so; because he looked just like a confederate postage stamp." at that time mr. davis' picture was on the stamps recently issued. i took this opportunity to get away from them, by saying that i must join one of our own maryland regiments, and started off as if i must find one right away. jeff davis was back in richmond, as i had discovered with my own eyes. in my daily rounds, the next source of information i sought was the newspapers offices, because the crowd that was always to be found about them seemed to do more satisfactory blowing than any that i could strike elsewhere. they commented pro and con upon the bulletins that were sometimes put out; or, in fact, it seemed as if this daily gathering at the _examiner_ office, a few doors around the corner from main, was a sort of a news clearing-house, where a great many of the citizens of the better class came to tell all they knew and to hear all that any others had to tell. it was through this channel that i obtained some important clues. while i was in richmond, the ball's bluff, or leesburg, disaster occurred, and most eagerly did i read all that appeared in richmond about that distressing affair. the _examiner_ and _whig_ articles on this "great victory," if reproduced to-day, would make some interesting reading, of a character that would stir up the blood of the old soldiers, even now, about as quickly as anything i know of. the prevailing sentiment or feeling in richmond at the time seemed to be, that this "great achievement of the confederates" merely confirmed the opinions that had been previously uttered, based on the battle of bull run, "that one southern was equal to five yankees." the patronizing and superior manner with which those richmond people talked of the battle of ball's bluff, which, in fact, was almost a massacre, made such an impression on my mind that time has not and never can efface. the richmond papers, too, in those days, i recall very distinctly, found it necessary to apologize for, or defend, general stone, for his part in the affair. it was through this press channel that we heard of general butler's operations in north carolina. the old man had evidently done something down there that hurt very much, which they did not print, as the city press was filled almost every day with abuse of him and the yankees. i gathered that it was about henry a. wise, who had a son or a brother killed by butler's operations. one would think, from the manner in which the virginians went on about this "outrage," that the yankees had no right to kill a virginia gentleman under any circumstances. while i am on the subject of the richmond press, i must not forget to explain that, as printing paper was becoming quite scarce in the south, they were obliged to economize, and frequently the richmond _examiner_ and _whig_ appeared in half-sheets and letters; the quality of the paper became so inferior as to resemble in appearance the reverse side of the cheapest wall-paper. i sent to the north, through the blockade, several times, marked copies of the richmond papers. the pittsburgh _chronicle_ actually published, while i was yet in virginia, an extract from one of those papers, in which were some caustic comments on a case of a certain well-known presbyterian clergyman of allegheny, who had been dismissed by his church there for some harsh expressions of sympathy for the south. i was thanked by name for the "courtesy" in sending the paper, which was exhibited at the office as a great curiosity, and am thankful even now, on reflection, that the pittsburgh papers were not on the richmond exchange list. there were no earthworks of any description around richmond in . this is a fact that is not generally known. when i was before the committee on the conduct of the war, some months after the date of which i am writing, there was an effort being made by some of the congressmen to prove to the country that mcclellan's inactivity during the fall and winter was wholly inexcusable. this truth was fully brought out at the time and the facts proven. there was probably not a day from august to november, , that general mcclellan could not have easily entered richmond, with a very small force, from the peninsula or via the south. it was also fully established by the official papers of the rebel authorities themselves that twenty-five per cent. of their army was incapacitated on account of the prevailing epidemic in august and september, and that twenty-five per cent. more were absent, while the rest of the rebel army was as badly demoralized by their victory as we were by our rout. i do not attempt to criticise general mcclellan in mentioning these facts. i refer simply to my own personal observations on this point, as testified to before the committee of congress, after i had gotten home again. i beg to refer the reader to volume , page of the printed government record for a part of my sworn testimony referring to these dates. after a long day's hunt for news, visiting about every place in the city, like a reporter, where i thought i could learn anything--among the rest, libby prison guard--i returned to the hotel in the evening. chapter xviii. a narrow escape--recognized by texas friends at a richmond theatre--personnel of the maryland battery--refugees from ireland--camp lee, near richmond--our captain--lieutenant claiborne, of mississippi--our section-drills--horses for our use in town and adjoining county--visits of ladies--capitola--popularity of refugees--the entertainment for marylanders--tableau--jeff davis strikes the chains from the enslaved maryland beauty. richmond hotels during the war were very like those in washington city during the same period. every evening the offices, billiard rooms, and even the bar-rooms, would be filled with that class of a city's population that usually congregate in these places. as the crowded hotel lobbies in washington city nowadays are just the places the newspaper men seek to obtain news for their papers, so it was in richmond as well as washington during the war. everybody agreed on one point--that something was up, but just what it was nobody seemed able to tell, and i was unable to find out. but i had a night's adventure, which served to dispel any scruples i had entertained about the propriety of entering the rebel army. i met at the hotel office my companion, the colonel, who, upon seeing me, rushed over the office floor to say: "why, where the devil have you been? we have been hunting you every place." i explained that i had been poking about the city all day, and was so tired that i was going straight to bed. "no you ain't; we are going to initiate you to-night. we got our orders to-day. elkton has his commission, and has authority to enlist his men--you know we have nearly all we need for our section. i am to be sergeant in charge of the piece and you are to be corporal." then, with a slap on the shoulder, he hauled me to one side, and whispered: "we have got it all fixed for our big bounty, and we want your papers right away." i was cornered. i must go along or get out of town. there could be no possible excuse for further putting off this step. i asked only the one question--"where do we go?" "why, into maryland, of course!" being further assured that this battery was to be at once sent to the front, i agreed to go along with him--_to get the money_. we found elkton in our room, attending to the papers of some of the other recruits, and, at a favorable opportunity, i, with a trembling hand and a doubting heart, signed my assumed name to the papers, and by that act became a _rebel soldier_. there was one great relief to my mind while performing this necessary act. it was distinctly understood that i was to be made the corporal, and, as such, it would be my duty to sight and fire the gun of our section. i determined that if the occasion should arise before i could get away from them, when it would become my duty as a rebel soldier to sight that gun, that it should _never be pointed in a way to do any damage_. my object was to use this scheme as a disguise to again get to the front at manassas, and find out what had been done _there_. i could not learn anything at richmond, and once more in the rebel army at manassas, disguised in a gray uniform, i would find some way to anticipate any forward movements. i would also be "handy" to our army, and be able to reach our pickets quickly. if i were caught going over to the enemy, with a rebel jacket on, i'd be shot as a deserter; but i had the consolation of knowing that, if i were caught in any other clothes, i should be hung anyhow. while this was not a very comforting thought, i knew it was true. i did not care much for the money that was to be paid to me; and authorized elkton to settle my bills at the hotel and to retain the balance for me. he furnished the colonel and me some spending money, and together we went out to "make a night of it" in richmond. the colonel and i went first to a theatre, located on the street on which stood the exchange and ballard hotel. one of the players sang with dramatic effect some words suitable to the time and people, which was adapted to the french air of "la marseillaise." he waved in one hand a french flag and in the other the confederate _bars_. at a certain point in the song, the fellow threw to the floor and stamped upon--old glory--the stars and stripes. the wild cheers of approval and howls of applause from the large audience that went up at this dastardly exhibition of american treachery sent the cold chills down my marrow bone. i wondered then, and have never ceased to wonder, at the frequent exhibitions of contempt and dishonor for their old flag that were so freely and heartily indulged in by the southern people during the war. it did not occur to me at the time that i might accidentally meet or, at least, be seen--in a crowded theatre--by some person who would know something of my past experiences. as we were slowly edging through the crowd, after the curtain had fallen, i noticed a tall fellow in front of us, who turned around to look back. i thought i had seen his face before, but i had been seeing so many faces lately, that i paid but little attention to him. i observed that he said something to his companion, as both turned around facing me, but, as the crowd kept pressing down the narrow aisle, they did not have a good chance to scan me too closely. becoming aware of their scrutiny, my suspicions became aroused. i began to hasten along, and nervously nudged the colonel to push ahead more rapidly. we passed the two men--one of whom was in uniform--and as we did so, i heard one of them, say: "that's him, ain't it?" i didn't linger to hear what reply the other made, but shoved on toward the door, and had reached the vestibule when the voice behind called out--_my right name_! i was startled, but did not turn, being intent only on getting to the street as quickly as possible. the colonel, who was with me, had not noticed the affair at all; and the calling out of my real name had not attracted his attention, as i was known to him only by the fictitious name that i had assumed. as i reached the door, and was about to hurry down the front steps, a hand was laid on my shoulder. i have no doubt that it was a pale face which turned around, expecting to meet some one that i certainly did not desire to see at that time. i did not know him, though his pleasant face, which was covered with a broad grin, seemed familiar. "ain't you mr. o. k., that was out in texas with major j----?" i suppose that my surprised appearance was misunderstood for an expression of offended dignity i had assumed. this had the effect of putting him in doubt as to my identity, as he eyed me more closely, and gave me his name, and remarked he was one of a regiment that had been organized in that part of texas in which i had spent the winter preceding the war, and had probably known me there, as a stranger naturally becomes an object of curiosity in that country. as i did not want to run the risk of meeting any of my texas uncle's friends, who might know of my interest in the affair at fort pickens--as the texas boy--i mildly resented the proposed acquaintance. his companion relieved the embarrassment by suggesting, politely, that it was simply a mistake. when i had recovered sufficiently, i gave my fictitious name and introduced the colonel, as a sort of endorser for my statement. it was accepted with hesitancy, and we parted without stopping to further explain the matter. i was now, seemingly, to all intents and purposes, a _bona fide_ "rebel." the position in which i had almost involuntarily placed myself was such, that it put me in a dangerous attitude toward both sides, and would necessitate considerable explaining in certain events. it was, in fact, a "straddle," that caused me a good deal of annoyance and trouble that i had not counted on before i entered into the arrangement. after the little incident at the theatre, the colonel and i went straight to our room at the hotel. he wanted to run around town a little longer, but i was not in the humor for taking any further risks of meeting any more of my southern acquaintances, and i prevailed upon him to go with me to bed. after the lights were out, i had an opportunity to think over the day's doings before i slept. it was arranged between us that we should travel together as a pair, or as a team of fresh maryland colts, wherever we should go. we were both to be attached to the one gun of the third maryland battery of artillery. that is the name of the organization, as will be found upon a reference to the records, and i have no doubt my name is also set down there among the members of the company. elkton was made the lieutenant, while the "colonel" was promoted to be sergeant in charge of the piece, while i was corporal and gunner. [illustration: recognized by texans at richmond theatre.] a majority of the other "refugees" belonging to this patriotic band of exiles were composed principally of recruits who had been recently drawn to richmond from their shovel and pick employment on a railroad contract, on what is now the chesapeake & ohio railroad. this sense of duty to the suffering and abused south of their adoption, was due to the fact, as we all understood it then, that the bounty and pay of the maryland refugee was very much greater than that of a laborer in a ditch while the work was not nearly so fatiguing. in fact, and in brief, the refugee business was very much of a fraud on the confederacy in our company. to be more explicit, i will enumerate, from memory, the several nationalities which were attached to our "piece," which may be considered a representative of the maryland refugees in the confederacy. our no. and no. --which all old soldiers will remember, are the figures that represent the two men who stand at the muzzle of an old-fashioned gun, one of whom swabs her out, while the other rams the charge home--were two stalwart irish brothers, mike and terry by name. the former had been a boss of a wheelbarrow gang somewhere out on the railway in virginia--one of those blustering irish fellows who are so full of extravagant and positive talk. he was eternally and forever complaining about something or somebody, and i remember that he gave the officers and men more trouble on this account than all the rest. he had, as the leader of his gang, brought a dozen of his irish recruits into our organization at one draft, and felt as if he must continue to be their boss. his men were also disposed to recognize "mike's" authority, as being superior to that of the military officers. a good deal of discipline was necessary to explain to them the changed condition in their affairs. his brother terry was a strapping big fellow, whose position at the gun was alongside of his brother. in disposition and temperament, terry was the very opposite of mike, being a quiet, sullen fellow, whom i do not remember to have heard speak a dozen words beyond mere monosyllables. he was, however, a tricky, treacherous fellow, and the pair of big gray mules gave the team of maryland colts any amount of trouble and fun. the man whose duty it was to prick the cartridge and attend the vent was a native of richmond--a fat, boyish fellow of eighteen full of fun and laugh all the time. my recollection is, that he had been a butcher's clerk somewhere. he represented what may be called the "poor white trash," as it was termed by the southern people. he was probably attracted by the bounty and the chance to ride on a gun-carriage, as we found out very soon he was too blamed lazy to walk. another peculiarity of this recruit, that we subsequently discovered, and which made it interesting to the rest of us, was, that he was subject to epileptic fits, and probably for this cause he had been rejected by the more respectable virginia regiments. when he first took one of those spells, during the excitement occasioned by the drill-master hustling him around a little, we all felt that something dreadful had occurred in our midst, and every man in the camp was crawling over the other in their efforts to wait upon and assist the poor fellow. he lay on the ground, gnawing and twisting himself in the most horrible way, frothing at the mouth in the meanwhile in a frightful manner. it was on such occasions as this that big mike showed his usefulness in the company. he would grab the big virginian lubber by each hand and hold him "steady," as if he was a mere baby in his hands, giving orders meanwhile, as if he was a captain on a man-of-war in a great storm. the other fellow, who pulled the lanyard, was a slender, good-looking man, who had been a sailor who had traveled around the world, and did not seem to have any nationality. the war had found him blockaded at norfolk, and, being unable to get out to sea, he had gravitated into richmond, where he was induced to join the refugee band by the hard logic of an empty pocket, a hungry belly, and a show of money as bounty. he and i became fast friends, and, as a singular coincidence, i mention here that we both joined that battery with the same intent--_i. e._, to use it as a means of escape north; and though we were together and slept together every night for months, neither knew the other's thoughts on the subject until the morning we met, accidentally, while both were escaping through the rebel pickets. our no. , whose duty it was to carry the cartridge from the caisson to the gun, was a queer character. he was a man of about forty-five years of age, tall and angular, with that odd cast of countenance that one often sees among the lower order of germans. he was not exactly a german, but had an accent similar to the german; his face was broad and square, the lower part of it being apparently broader than the upper. i think he must have been a russian or a polander. he was not a successful no. , because his motions were too stiff and lumbering for that position; and, in consequence of his stupidity, he was being prodded all the time when on drill. he became, however, a very useful member to the company. by some mysterious expressions from the officers, we were led to believe at first that he might have been a disguised "juke" or count, exiled from his native land, and who desired to serve his adopted home with this band of devoted refugees. we learned, however, that he had simply been a professor in his own country in--a barbershop. we were all glad enough to ascertain this fact; also, that he served his time as a tailor--to be sure his "time" as a tailor had been "put in" at a certain penitentiary--but he was a good and useful refugee all the same, because he was detailed to shave the company and, also, to do over the baggy gray uniforms which were furnished us. the "colonel" and i were the first to take advantage of this information, as to the "juke's" accomplishments, to have him refit the gray blouses and trousers which we were to wear. we procured some black stuff for trimming the cuffs of our coats, because one of the lanyards' lady friends had told him that the black and gray matched nicely together. we also had our sergeant's and corporal's stripes of bright red stitched on to our sleeves, and a narrow binding of red was sewed down in front of the coat. it was in this rather neatly-trimmed rebel uniform that i boldly walked the streets of richmond, and secured entrance to houses and places of interest, from which i had heretofore been excluded, during the rest of my eventful stay in that city. it will be seen that, in this account of the personnel of one section of the so-called maryland battery, there was but the _one_ genuine maryland refugee in its outfit, outside of elkton, and that was the sergeant, who is the "colonel" of our story. i was, of course, supposed to be another marylander, but it will be seen that the much-vaunted "flower of the south," which composed the confederate armies, was very much like the "flower of the north" in its actual composition. the other sections of our battery were composed principally of the aforesaid "recruits" from the railway laborers, who were mostly refugees from ireland and germany. our other lieutenant was a mr. claiborne, one of the genuine sons of the south, a native of mississippi, and as clever and courteous a young gentleman as it has ever been my pleasure to meet. i recall my acquaintance with lieutenant claiborne, though formed in this surreptitious way, as one of the most agreeable in which i have ever shared. if it shall so happen that this writing may meet his own eye, or that of his family or friends--and i have given the correct name--he will understand some of my actions toward him, which were at the time, to say it briefly, inexplicable. lieutenant claiborne, i think, followed the confederate fortunes to the end--i am sure he did so if he lived to see the end--for, without a doubt, he was earnestly, though quietly, sincere in his devotion to the cause of the south. the captain of the company had been, as i understood it, a lawyer from baltimore. he was a small man in stature, small in mind, and about as _little_ and trifling in every way as any soldier that i have ever met. perhaps some allowance should be made for the captain on account of the fact that he was a cripple. he was born, i believe, with one leg shorter than the other--wore what is known as a club foot; that is, one shoe was filled with a cork sole, which raised his foot three or four inches from the ground. he walked with a cane, and sometimes used two, and apparently walked with difficulty. his face wore an expression of pain or sourness that is peculiar to many persons whom i have met that are similarly afflicted. in justice to the captain, it may be inferred that, on account of his bodily infirmity, he had been reared in such a way that every whim was gratified, and he was petted and spoiled until he became in nature and disposition a veritable tyrant, as all pets are. we understood that he came of a first-class maryland family, and that he had been highly educated at his home, where he had become a successful attorney. our impressions in this regard were amply confirmed by our association; and the fact that our captain had great influence at the rebel war department was undisputed. the captain himself recognized his importance, and was of the temperament that inclined to make the most of his advantages. there was a disposition on the part of our first lieutenant, elkton, to resist the captain's severe exercise of his authority and overbearing manner; and in this rebellion within a rebellion, we of this section unanimously sustained our lieutenant. mr. claiborne, the second lieutenant, was also in constant friction with the captain, and, as his squad sustained him, also, we were in hot water right along. the captain became a cross, surly, revengeful man. he knew nothing whatever of military drill and the requirements, and was narrow-minded enough to meddle and interfere with the trifling details, which should have been left to the subordinate officers. big mike, of our section, was one of the fellows who had a grievance, because he had not been made sergeant in charge of the gun, with his own squad of irish to work it, instead of my colonel. he took every complaint to this sour-faced, crippled captain, who, in an unmilitary manner, entertained his private growling complaint against the officers and the rest of the company. he would invite mike into his quarters, where he would discuss with him the minor affairs of the company. any old soldier will see how this sort of thing would work; and if any imagine for a moment that all the southern soldiers were a "band of brothers," harmoniously bound together, fighting only against the yankee invaders, they are very much mistaken. i have seen more of the ugly, bitter jealousy between rebel officers, and severe criticism of jeff davis and his generals, in an association of nine months among them, than i did subsequently in three years between stanton and halleck and all the commanders of the armies of the potomac. our company was quartered in the fair grounds, on the outskirts of richmond, which in after years became widely known as "camp lee." a high board fence enclosed several acres of ground; inside this enclosure were a number of temporary wooden sheds, which had been turned into barracks for the confederate soldiers. troops were arriving at this camp from the south every day; and as fast as they were organized or suitably provided with arms and clothing, they were shipped on the cars, which ran right by the grounds, to the rebel army at manassas or thereabouts. i was always glad to see the trains stop to load up some of the troops for the north, because i felt, every time i saw it, that our turn to go would soon come, and i should soon be at the front again, from whence i could easily skip over the line into washington city. the time, during these days, was usually occupied in a daily routine of military life. officers and men occupied comfortable quarters at camp lee, in the barracks. there was a roll-call every morning, a very good breakfast, then a couple of hours' drill at the one old iron cannon, which was all that the entire camp possessed. each of the sections took turns at this one piece. so it was, that, between us all, we managed to keep it hot pretty near all day. this drill was a regular circus. as the gunner, i did not have very much exercise. lanyard, who stood by me, and i, had so much fun together over the two big irishmen, who would so violently ram home the imaginary charges of powder and ball and swing the big swab around as wildly as if it was a little shilleleh. fatty, the virginia refugee, whose place was across from us, was full of fun himself, and kept us all amused by his antics during the drill--holding his fingers to his ears and winking and jumping as if a charge had actually been fired and the rebound was dangerous. the two big irish brothers were always in a sweat and swearing at the disguised "juke," because he was so dignified in his bearing that he could not be made to see the necessity of rushing frantically from the limber, holding an imaginary cartridge in his hand. it, perhaps, seemed too absurd for a man of his dignity, age and clumsy bearing to be compelled to run around the gun holding out his empty hands, as if carrying a ten-pound shot in them, which he was supposed to deliver in like imaginary manner. my duty was to sight the piece, and i learned to get that part of the drill down so fine that i was able, on short notice, to hit the same knot-hole in the fence, twenty feet distant, every time. the number of yankees that we killed with that gun--in imagination--far outnumbered all that were afterward slaughtered by all of general alexander's rebel artillery. the captain somehow got a notion that i was the only person in the company who could use pen and ink. this was not very complimentary to the rest of the company, because i've not, in all these years, learned how to write properly; but i was, in consequence, detailed as a company clerk, or as a private secretary to the captain, and from this assignment, until we took the field, i had what is vulgarly called--a snap. i was quartered thenceforth in the captain's room, except when off duty, when i would quickly join the colonel and lanyard in their barracks. my duties were not at all onerous; on the other hand, i became relieved from all details for drill guard, police duty, and a hundred and one other little "turns" that catch everybody in the ranks, both in the rebel and union armies. it was my business to do all the company's clerical work: i filled out requisitions for commissary supplies, kept the roster, made a daily report for the captain to somebody who was the general in command at the camp at that time. one day the captain notified the men, as we were at evening roll-call, that he had engaged a doctor for the exclusive benefit of the company, who would accompany us as our surgeon. everybody was glad to hear this, as we had experienced a good bit of sickness already while in camp. the captain wound up his speech with the incidental observation that a dollar or two would be retained from each man's pay to compensate this private surgeon. there was surprise, and the parade was dismissed and the men reassembled to growl. big mike then took a turn at making a speech, inciting rebellion against the captain's arbitrary orders. it resulted in a regular irish row upon the captain ordering mike's arrest and imprisonment in the guard-house. before we got through with it, the whole of the bold refugees were under the guns of some of the other troops, that had been called upon to quell the disturbance. it was lots of fun to fatty and lanyard, but for my part i'd rather get into a real battle than to become mixed up in an irish fist fight. there were some horses in camp belonging to the several officers who were quartered out there. our captain had his own, a finely-bred animal, which he rode to town and back every day. on account of the deformity of his limbs or hips, it was necessary that he should be almost lifted into the saddle, which was made of a particular shape suited to him. because of this necessity for having someone always with him, i was selected by the captain, with whom i had become a favorite, to accompany him nearly every day on a second horse. he almost always rode straight to the war department, and i went along with him as far as i could. in this way i was able to keep up safely my silent watch on the rebel war office, rarely missing a day during our stay in camp lee on which i did not get to town with the captain. my gray uniform had been neatly fitted by the "juke," and my way of wearing my blouse coat-tails tucked inside my trousers had so pleased the captain that he had ordered every man to wear his clothes as i did. this style of dress gave me a sort of garibaldi appearance, and i fancy that, as i rode my horse fairly well, from an early training in western texas, i made a pretty creditable appearance on the streets of richmond as a rebel soldier boy. it was in this disguise that, i may safely assert, i openly visited _every single point of interest in and around richmond_. i felt so perfectly secure and safe, that i had again become reckless and careless. by reason of my close association with the captain, as his private secretary or company clerk, i was able to secure from him his written permit to visit town in the evening. the colonel (or sergeant), mr. lanyard and myself had naturally gravitated toward each other, and visits to town after dark were usually made by this congenial trio in one group, but we didn't always return together. the old colonel and lanyard were the real philistines, and i may safely put all their night raids upon them. whenever the colonel or lanyard wished to go to town, one of them would come to me, as the "adjutant of their corps," as the colonel used to say, and in their seductive manner ask me to write out a pass for three and get the "old man" to sign it. the captain had gotten into the way of signing so many of the blank forms, that it was my daily duty to submit to him, his signature was easily obtained to further our little schemes. of the great number and variety of troops, probably the most popular, as a general thing, were the refugees from maryland. for some months after the first battle, the ladies of the very best old families of richmond were in the habit of making daily visits to the camps of the troops about the city. there was a crack battalion of "gentlemen" soldiers from south carolina that came to town during my stay, whose regiment i've forgotten, but my impression is that it was hampton's south carolina battalion. their presence created quite a furore among the ladies of richmond, and the dress-parade in the evening seemed to bring half the town out in carriages and in droves of pedestrians. these fellows wore a fancy uniform, and, without a word of exaggeration, i may say every private in the battalion was provided with a body servant--in most cases a likely boy, perhaps one of the slaves with whom the soldier had played as a child, was now sent along with him to the war to take care of the young master. our colonel didn't like the attention that was being given to the south carolina boys; perhaps he felt a little bit envious or jealous, as he observed to a lady: "these fellows have brought along their niggers to carry umbrellas over them while they fight." while lanyard thought: "it's most likely the nigger is there to fix up their cocktails." i have, myself, seen refined ladies in our camp, with sleeves rolled up and huge aprons covering their fine dresses, assisting the troopers to bake their biscuit and bread. the younger and better-looking ladies were often to be seen at camp, with baskets in hand, laying out bountiful spreads in the barrack "dining-room." the appearance of these ladies at camp always put the colonel on his mettle--he would go about our part of the quarters, his actions totally altered from his usual slow and quiet manner. our sailor-boy chum, whom we called lanyard, had not enjoyed the society of ladies so much as the colonel, probably on account of his sea-faring life, and was rather inclined to resent the intrusion of the ladies. through the colonel's gallantry and cheek, our little mess was pretty well remembered by the visiting sisters. it was through visits of this character that we became acquainted with a nice young lady, whom we will call capitola, because that wasn't her name. she was a typical southern girl. i can not describe her, except to say that she was a beautiful brunette, who had attended boarding school somewhere near baltimore, and probably through this fact she became interested in the maryland refugees. as i have said, the colonel was a gallant fellow, and also a good manager, who was not slow to take advantage of the opportunity this pretty girl's visits to our camp afforded. she, of course, made her visits in company with a bevy of other pretty girls, some of whom were equally as handsome as herself, but capitola is _the_ girl of this part of our story. one day our fair visitors made a special call on our officers to notify us, in their charming way, of an entertainment which was to be given at one of the halls in the city, to which marylanders especially were invited. the colonel in his courteous way accepted the invitation for us. when the ladies were ready to return, the colonel persistently escorted them to the gate--as he always did--while we bashful boys stood back and envied his easy manners, as he escorted them away from us. he always came back to us with a broad grin on his face, but, kept a taunting silence as to the conversation that seemed to be so interesting and amusing. we put in the balance of that day preparing for the evening's entertainment. as a general thing, we were demoralized after the visit and could do nothing else. it so happened that it rained one of those cold, misty, half-rain and half-sleet storms, that are so disagreeable always, and especially so when they interfere with one's efforts to get himself up in his best shape. the storm did not, however, prevent a full attendance at the ball, for it was a sort of ball or reception, after some introductory addresses, accompanied by the music of "dixie" and "maryland, my maryland." mrs. president davis was present. though i had frequently seen her, she never looked to my eyes other than a very ordinary matronly lady. it was a tableau, in which our girl was representing "maryland enslaved." she was attired, not exactly in the costume of the greek slave, but in a sombre mourning garb, with her head bowed as if in great sorrow and distress. she walked on to the stage, and, with a pathetic appeal, lifted toward heaven as beautiful a face as i have ever seen, stretching out her bared arms, which were shackled by chains. it was a beautiful and a striking picture, presented with great effect, and i don't suppose there was a person in the vast crowd who did not feel ready to make a desperate effort to release the pretty maryland girl from those dreadful chains. i'm quite sure i should have done so if i'd had the opportunity, and would have been glad to have picked "maryland" up and carried her away from such dreadful people, but we were not to be given this privilege. at the proper moment, mr. president davis stepped forward, and, like an accomplished actor, played his part excellently well, wrenching the chains from "maryland" and setting her free. "maryland" horrified all the battery boys by immediately throwing her arms around her rescuer. "we three roughish chaps together," came away from that show with our empty heads in a whirl. it was still sleeting and quite cold. lanyard, with an assumed shudder, proposed that we go to some saloon to get something hot to prevent our taking cold. i have never been drunk in my life. i say this here, because a good many persons who will read this will naturally think that any person who has "been around" as much as i, must at some time have been full. especially as i am an old soldier, i know that some persons will laugh at this statement as a joke; but it's a sober fact. i never was drunk, but i came mighty near it that night in richmond. lanyard was familiar with all the best places to "get something," and took us into a cozy, warm room, where there was a good, cheerful fire blazing. on one side of the room was the bar--one of those old-fashioned high counters--but you all know what a bar is like, so i won't attempt a description of such a place to old soldiers. on this counter was a large china bowl beautifully decorated on the outside, while within was floating a mixture that i had never seen before. on inquiry, i was informed by the bartender, with a significant grin at the colonel, which i afterward recalled, that the mixture was virgina apple-jack. you don't know what that is? no, i think it has gone out of date, or perhaps its concoction is one of the lost arts. there were apples--roasted apples--floating in a sea of foam, that gave forth a most delightful fragrance. i was curious about the stuff, and being assured by lanyard that it was a sort of cooked cider, that was made in virginia as a temperance drink for those who were opposed to hard cider, i, in my unsuspecting innocence, partook of a mug full of the hot stuff. it was not hard to take, being quite pleasant to the taste, and, the evening being so cold and wet, i was prevailed upon to poke my nose into another mug of the apple tea, "just to keep from taking cold." we all sat down at an adjoining table to await our order of fried oysters, the two companions becoming quite hilarious over their gin, in a way, which i recalled afterwards, as quite significant. the room was quite warm, and, as i began to dry out in its atmosphere, i became, i thought, too warm, and said as much, which my companions passed off in their careless way with a laugh. when i attempted to get on to my feet, for the first time in my life my head felt a little bit dizzy, and i had to support myself as i stood to get a proper balance. the table began to move, as if impelled by some unseen power; in looking up, the fire had grown into three or four different fires in as many different places; there were several hundred bottles behind the bar, and realizing in an instant what was coming, i made a sudden rush for the door, staggering through the room, amid the laughter of the colonel and lanyard, who urged me to sit down; but i had not yet lost my head, and refused to stop until i got outside, when i leaned against the door until i cooled off. it was a close call, but the federal spy didn't lose his head in richmond that night. chapter xix. richmond, fall, --daily visits to the war office, mechanics' hall--evenings devoted to visits in town--mixed up with maryland ladies--fort pickens opens fire on pensacola batteries--general winder, of maryland--jeff davis inaugurated president--shake hands with jeff davis. while it may very often become expedient for a spy, while perambulating in an enemy's country, to drink socially with those with whom he desires to communicate, it is always a dangerous expedient, because, of all persons, a spy requires a cool and clear head. although these confederate soldiers, with whom i was that night associated, had not the slightest suspicion of my true character and purposes, yet, if i had been made foolishly drunk by them, there is no telling what my loosened tongue might have done for me. we were--all three of us--very much "gone" on the enslaved beauty, and under such softening influences, at this particular time, a very light dose of virginia "apple-jack," added to the "maryland" influence, would have completely upset us all. in fact, i was in greater danger of losing my heart than my head. the beautiful tableau which we had just witnessed, coupled with the presence of refined and lovely ladies, accompanied by the sweet music of maryland, had more effectually intoxicated my senses than the seductive "apple-jack." it will be remembered that in our set was the lieutenant, who was supposed to have been a staid married man at home in maryland, and it would hardly be fair now to print his desperate efforts to cut out the boys of his company, simply because he was an officer. we were only able to defeat his intrigue by bringing to our aid the gallant and handsome second lieutenant, a dark-eyed mississippi gentleman, but he, with base ingratitude, took unfair advantage of the opportunities we had afforded him and used his big black eyes and seductive smiles to capture _our girl_--and she, the beautiful but uncertain capitola, the friend of the maryland refugees, surrendered to our mississippi lieutenant, and there was great trouble and heart-burning in that rebel battery ever after. my undertakings and surroundings in richmond were not exactly adapted to the production of humorous or funny effects, but i had lots of fun, all the same, though i was not sent there for that purpose. i went about the city during daylight in the garb of a confederate soldier, carrying in my pocket the pass of the commanding officer at camp lee, which was furnished me freely through my maryland captain's influence. general winder, who became afterward notorious as the provost-marshal-general of richmond and keeper of libby prison, was a maryland man, and it so happened that he had known our captain intimately while the two lived together in baltimore. this was a most fortunate circumstance for my schemes, as the first endorsement i had taken general winder was of a personal character from his friend, our captain, and thereafter i became solid with general winder as long as i remained in richmond. i was frequently tempted to go home; indeed, i had several times come to the conclusion, from my own observation, that there was to be no advance into maryland, and that i might as well quit and go home; but, again, i really felt as if i must accomplish _something_ first. i had stayed away so long, and had done nothing of importance, that i began to feel that it would be a degradation to crawl back home and have to explain to every person i knew where i had been and why i had been there. i wanted to go back when i should be made welcome. i confess right here that, since our pleasant acquaintance with the ladies of richmond had been formed, i was becoming more content to remain longer in exile. the presence, and particularly the bright smiles and winning ways of our "capitola" was a very great attraction. i did not go about richmond as a tramp or a peddler, as is the usual method of spies we read about in novels, but, instead, i personated a high-toned maryland youth--dressed myself in the grayest of gray uniform, adding all the red trimmings that my rank as corporal permitted. i rode a good horse, and, in my capacity of private secretary or orderly to our lame captain, enjoyed unusual facilities. during the daytime i took advantage of all these circumstances, and had my eyes and wits about me, while the night, in the company of our trio, was usually spent "about town," where i met some of the best people, who welcomed us to their houses as marylanders exiled from our homes. i also encountered among others some of the very worst class of citizens. as i have before stated, our captain frequently visited the war office, and i was nearly always taken along him, as he, on account of the stiffness of one of his legs, was unable to mount or dismount his horse without assistance. i learned, through this association with him, that the influence which he controlled at headquarters, and which enabled him--a cripple--to obtain such a good and much-sought-after position in the army over the heads of others, was derived, in part at least, from some relationship with mr. judah p. benjamin, the secretary of war for the confederates. mr. benjamin, it will be remembered, was a close friend of mr. davis. as the fall was now well advanced into winter, the weather was daily becoming colder, the rains were more frequent, and once or twice we had some signs of snow, and occasionally that most disagreeable of all weathers--sleet, rain and cold, all at the same time. we understood, generally, that it was now getting too late in the season for a fall or winter invasion of maryland. i had not learned enough of the art or science of war at that time to know that there were any seasons for army operations. one day, while standing in the hall door of the war department office, waiting, as was my custom, for the captain to come around, i was aroused from the indifference, which had grown upon me, by overhearing two persons, who were passing me, talking together excitedly about fort pickens and pensacola. as we had been hearing nothing at all about fort pickens during these summer and fall months, i had almost made up mind that the place had been overlooked. as may be imagined, i was not anxious on my own account to have the subject revived during my stay in richmond. when i heard the word "pickens," which to my ears was like a shot in the rear, i was instantly on the alert, and watched most eagerly the movements of the two gentlemen, whose discussion had attracted my attention. they passed along out of the building and together walked up the street and were gone out of my sight. it was evident from their not paying any attention to my presence, that their conversation about pickens did not have any reference to me or my connection with the affairs. i felt the least bit uneasy, however, and, while i stood about the war office in richmond that day, the terrible thought passed through my brain, "had i in any manner given myself away, and was i being taken to the department by our captain for the purpose of entrapping or identifying me?" it does not take very long for these dreadful thoughts to get possession of one's brain, and they do grow most wonderfully into the wildest fears and fancies in less time than it takes to write the words that will explain the incident. i waited and watched most anxiously about the square in front of the office, where our horses were tied, for the appearance of our captain. he was not in the building at that time, i learned upon inquiring of some of the clerks. he was most likely further down town, or with general winder. it was our custom to hitch our horses at this same place every day, when, after dismounting, the captain went his way, while i did as i pleased also, it being understood always that at or near a certain time we were to remount at this place and together return to camp lee. that evening he was unusually late getting around, and when i saw him limping along, his cane pounding the pavement with more than ordinary vigor, i knew i should have to lift the old man bodily on to his horse. he was always more communicative at such times, and ready to tell all that he had learned during the day. to my own surprise i blurted out, without thinking of my words, so engrossed was my mind on this subject, as if determined to hear the worst at once: "how about fort pickens?" "oh," he growled out in his thick, guttural tones, "the yankees have opened fire on our fellows from that damned fort pickens." "is that all," said i, with great a sigh of relief, which he must have noticed had he been sober enough. "that's enough, ain't it? the president and the secretary are both disgusted with general bragg for not capturing the damn place last spring." "too bad!" my thoughts were, though i did not dare express them. i had prevented the capture of fort pickens in april. as we rode along in silence for the remainder of the way out to camp, i had the opportunity to recall the fort pickens service, and i wondered and planned in my own mind just how that duel would be carried on there. i should have liked so much to have witnessed the booming of guns from pickens, and the exploding of the great shells over the exact spots in which i had located the masked rebel batteries down there. my fears having been relieved by this explanation of the conversation i had overheard, i felt very much as if i'd like to go off by myself and yell for the old flag, just once, but i dare not; i must continue to suffer and enjoy, in the silence, that was becoming almost a second nature to me. it will be remembered that i had been at montgomery, alabama, at about the time the provisional government of jeff davis was being initiated at that place. i was at the same hotel for about a week at which mr. davis then occupied rooms. i had several times been close to his person--indeed, so near that i was able to overhear the conversation in which he always seemed to be engaged. through the fortunes of war, and an adventurous, reckless disposition, i was again, in the winter of the same year, at the capitol of the rebel government in richmond, virginia, in a position to witness the formal inauguration of mr. jeff davis as president of the "permanent" government of the confederate states of america, for the term of six years. i saw mr. davis inaugurated, attended his public reception on the same evening, and, with all the rest of the callers, i was introduced to him, shook his hand, looked into his one eye, and passed out into the darkest night that i ever remember to have seen. the inauguration ceremonies were intended to be imposing. we all know now that, even at the early stage of the war, there was much serious trouble among the confederate leaders. during my experience among them there was scarcely a day that i did not hear expressions of discontent, and witness other evidences of a bitter feeling between the extreme southern men and what they termed "virginia yankees." my observations were, of course, principally among the rank and file, but i had also an eye and an ear for what was occurring among the higher classes. though they were able to conceal their bickerings at the time, to a certain extent, we all know now, from the testimony of such men as generals joe johnston, beauregard and longstreet, that there were always the smoldering embers of a volcano in the very heart of the rebellion, and this cause alone would have prevented their success in the end, even if general grant and the army of the potomac had been defeated in the field. though mr. davis had been elected president without any contest, the fact remains that there had been hostile opposition to him from various sources, probably the most noted being that of howell cobb. we, of the maryland battery, were given to understand by our captain that we would be expected to do our share, individually and collectively, in making the inauguration a success. the secretary of war was a personal friend of our captain, as will be remembered, and we all know now, if we did not suspect it then, that mr. benjamin was the mephistopheles of mr. davis' cabinet, such was the peculiar character of his services to his chief. of course, we were all glad enough of an opportunity to display ourselves in richmond as marylanders who were exiled from home; we had been accustomed to receive the "ovations" of our richmond lady friends, and we were all glad enough of another opportunity to secure all the attention we could command from them. there were some fears, too, that the inauguration might be of such a quiet character as to reflect somewhat, in this way, upon the administration of mr. davis. in brief, mr. benjamin and our side were to take an active part in making it a "popular" ovation. i was in for this, as i had been for anything at all that would add a little spice to the daily routine of camp life, that was becoming tiresome to me. a couple of days previous to the inauguration day, we were all kept pretty busy drilling our awkward squad in marching and in burnishing up our uniforms. we had received no arms as yet. the one old condemned iron cannon we were using to practice on was all that we refugees could boast of in the way of arms, for the proposed invasion of maryland. the trio before mentioned had been dubbed the "three roguish chaps together," comprised the colonel (our sergeant), lanyard, the sailor, and myself had promised the captain our hearty coöperation. we determined to assist him and his friends in every way we could in "creating a demonstration," leaving for ourselves the evening following the reception of the president. the eventful morning came at last, ushered in by a slowly-drizzling, cold rain. indeed it promised about as inauspicious for a street display as could have been imagined. later in the day the rain increased, and about the hour set for the ceremonies it had settled down to a steady pour. it was, indeed, a dreary day in richmond overhead as well as under foot. we marched to the city through slop and mud, that added to our personal misery and discomfiture, as well as it detracted from our intended gay appearance. the ceremony took place in the capitol grounds--a stand had been erected in the neighborhood of the henry clay statue. on account of the pouring rain, it was necessary at almost the last hour for a gang of workingmen to erect a temporary roof or shelter over the place from which mr. davis was to deliver his inaugural address. i did not get to hear a word of it, but i was not caring a scrap about it just then. i saw mr. davis, though, through all the proceedings--we were stationed at some distance down the hill and looked up over a sea of umbrellas. after the ceremony was over, we three were permitted by our captain to remain in town, and the trio at once found shelter in the same comfortable restaurant in which i had first tasted the apple-jack. here we were permitted to dry out our wet clothing and enjoy a good old-fashioned virginia dinner, which mine host had prepared in honor of the day. the great china punch-bowl was still on the high bar, filled almost to the brim with the sweet-smelling, seductive apple-jack, in which floated some roast apples, which were garnished with cloves, so they looked like great pine balls, but i felt that they were as dangerous as porcupines. i was urged to drink several times indeed, but one taste was enough for me. the landlord was rather hurt, or pretended to be, that i should refuse to accept from his own hands the courteously proffered mug of the delicious compound, to be drunk in honor of the day, etc. the colonel, who had been such a good friend since we had met while i was sick in the hotel, had formed apparently the utmost confidence in me. in fact, our relations became of the most intimate character, as far as was possible between any two persons who were so unlike in disposition and purposes. the colonel was my senior by several years; perhaps, because of this, or maybe from the fact that he had nursed me out from my illness and led me into the company, i felt that he had an oversight or care over me, and acted toward me in the kindly way of an elder brother. in the love affairs, in which we all became so absurdly mixed up with our maryland slave, capitola, the colonel had taken it upon himself to act in my behalf and for my good. i had taken him into my confidence about capitola, and told him all about my trouble in that direction; how our officers had taken undue advantage of their uniform to cut me out, etc. he agreed with me that it was an "outrage," and admitted, with a smile, that i now recall as significant, that it was due entirely to the uniforms. i had accepted his offer to make things all right for me. i had consented most reluctantly to the colonel's disinterested and brotherly advice--not to have anything more to do with capitola. on inauguration day, being in town and feeling in pretty good trim, i yielded to the impulse, and concluded to meet capitola just once more, to say "good-by," provided i could do so without letting the colonel find it out. while trying to fix up a scheme to get away from him and lanyard that afternoon, so that i might make the proposed call undetained, i was delighted to hear the colonel ask lanyard and i, to excuse him for a couple of hours, as he had an important engagement with the lieutenant that afternoon--business must be attended to. i was not long in getting away from lanyard, and quickly skipped around to the well known residence of our capitola. she surprised me by meeting me cordially and, all in one breath, demanded to know why i had stayed away so long. "why," she said, in her smiling, innocent way, "all the rest of your boys have been to call on us." "indeed," thought i; and when i had sufficiently recovered to ask who had been there since i had been gone, she smilingly said: "why, your friend, the colonel, calls frequently; also that mississippi lieutenant of yours. isn't he just too nice?" this was not exactly what i expected or desired to hear from capitola, but it was enough. the colonel, my brotherly friend, was deceiving me, too. one purpose of my visit had been to request her company to the reception at the president's that evening. i had formed the impression that it would be a great scheme for the spy to escort the maryland slave to jeff davis' reception. when i had intimated the object of my visit, she burst into a hearty laugh as she said, cheerily: "oh, that is too funny. i believe every soldier from maryland in your company has made that request already, and i had to decline them all, because i had engaged to go with the lieutenant, you know." i was preparing to take my leave when the door bell rang. after a few more words and a sad "good-by" to capitola, i was about to leave the room when i ran against my disinterested, brotherly colonel, who had been trying to replace himself in the affections of my girl--while advising me to stay away. he was not at all embarrassed, but at once broke out into a hearty laugh, and, pulling me over to a sofa, we had a talk about the affair, which amused capitola so much that her merry laughter rang through the house as she gathered the situation from our "explanations." the colonel proposed going out with me, but i noticed that he had cunningly slipped capitola to one side and whispered in her ear something which had the effect of causing her cheery laughter to break out in a fresh place. she rushed over to me and, placing both hands on my shoulder, said: "there is another--he wants me to go with _him_ to the reception." so i had my turn to laugh on the colonel. we were about to leave. capitola, smiling, suggested that we march the whole company down to her house and she should go along with all of us--as the _fille de regiment_. despite the weather and some gloomy forebodings of friends, the reception of president jeff davis was a success--in the way of a crowd, at least. it seemed to me at the time that everybody was there. there were all kinds of people present during the evening--the very best class of the citizens of richmond and, perhaps, some of the very worst element, along with the numerous army officers and soldiers. richmond, in the winter of , may justly be termed, at that time, the wickedest city in america. adventurous gamblers and bad citizens of every conceivable description had flocked to the rebel capital from new orleans and all parts of the south and north. one portion of main street was abandoned almost wholly to gambling houses, which, at night, were inhabited by the worst kind of characters, in rebel uniforms. these people and their associates, who were in the city for sport and to ply their vocations, flocked in great numbers to all places where crowds were gathered, such as theatres, receptions, etc. the mayor of the city, a mr. mayo--whose name i remember so well because it lacked but the final letter "r" to spell the name and position in the same word--was a dignified, gray-haired, old virginia gentleman, who did the best he could to preserve the peace and order of the city. i saw him frequently on the street and at the city hall, on broad street. i never had any dealings with him in his official capacity that prevents my bearing this testimony to his good intentions. he was on hand at the reception, as the city official, as was also governor letcher, who was another virginia gentleman and official who i can remember with feeling of respect. general winder, who had been a police inspector, or something of the kind, in baltimore, was, in reality, the governor, the mayor, and the provost-marshal combined in one, as well as military governor, with absolute authority from the confederate government. he had, as a baltimorean, imported into richmond a number of the baltimore ex-police, or plug-uglies, whom he had employed as special detectives in his service. we went to the president's house together, early; and we stayed around the neighborhood as long as we could stand the storm, in hope of getting a sight of claiborne and capitola. the colonel and i took our places in the line, to be presented in our turn. i had some slight misgivings on the outcome of this adventure, because i knew that mr. davis had frequently seen me while in montgomery with him, and i feared that the subsequent notoriety i had obtained from the fort pickens episode would have served to have placed me in his mind. it will be remembered, too, that the press all over the south, as well as the north, had fully described my visit from montgomery to pensacola. so, it was with something of a nervous quivering at the heart that i saw myself being slowly advanced to the president. i watched his face closely from my place in the line before i reached him, and saw him courteously and smilingly take each one by the hand as he was presented. as i have said before, mr. davis' face was thin--his cheeks somewhat sunken. his pictures do not properly represent his face, as it was only when he smiled and spoke in his low, soft, gentle manner, that he was so fascinating to those who knew him best. he was, of course, severe and unbending to his enemies, but he was always the same to friends. the colonel was ahead of me, and, as his name was mentioned, he said to mr. davis, as he turned to me: "a couple of maryland boys have come to pay their respects to you, mr. president." mr. davis held his hand for a moment, saying, pleasantly, to the colonel: "why, i'm right glad to see you." at the same time he reached his other hand to me, and, for a moment, he grasped us each with a hand saying, as he looked at me with that one mighty bright eye: "i'm glad to see you both." we passed on, my heart fluttering terribly; but, once, in the crowd again, i felt that i had passed another danger. we lingered in the crowd for a short time; saw all who came and left in that time, and not being able longer to stand the storm, while waiting for a glimpse of capitola, i turned away from the crowd into the darkness of a stormy night and wandered out to camp, so much absorbed in my own thoughts that i lost all care for my appearance--trudging blindly along through the darkness into the mud and slush until i reached camp, tired, where i quickly tumbled into the bunk and was quickly lost to all consciousness of the day's doing. chapter xx. one sunday in richmond--jeff davis' and general lee's homes and church--recognized at libby prison--visit to texas camp--a "difficulty" renewed--thrilling experience--a night in richmond with texas boys. from the subsequent questionings of our people north about how things looked in richmond during the war, i gathered that they all entertained erroneous impressions about the conditions of affairs in that city at that time. i have been trying to describe them from a unionist's standpoint. though it had been in a state of siege at the time of which i write, and was apparently cut off from the balance of the world for a year, yet there was absolutely nothing in the general appearance of things in the streets to indicate that the city suffered in the least from the blockade. it may be said that richmond was very much like washington at the same period, the principal difference being that the soldiers who thronged the streets and filled the saloons and houses of one city were in a gray uniform, while those in the other wore a blue. there was probably more of the blue boys loose in washington than of the gray in richmond, because the confederate officials and, particularly, provost-marshal-general winder, of maryland, was able, with the despotic power granted him by the war office, to prevent a great deal of straggling. the weather was now settled into the regular virginia winter, alternating into rain, snow, slush and sleet. under these conditions it was impossible for either army to move, and, as a consequence, the city was soon filled full of officers from manassas, who were on leave from their command, or of soldiers on furlough, or straggling deserters. no one will attempt to claim that the city at this time was orderly; in fact, the oldest citizens are ready to assert, even now, that, during the early winter months, the respectable portion of the community were in truth besieged in their own houses. it was scarcely safe for a lady to venture alone in certain portions of the town during the daytime, while at night the straggling furloughed officers and soldiers, under such conditions, on the same equality, had entire possession in the streets and certain parts of the city. there was apparently no scarcity of money--such as it was--and there was not, that i can recall, any limit of the supply of whisky and all the other little attachments that the soldiers either in gray or in blue will have. main street, , looked to me very much as it did in and , except, perhaps, that on the occasion of my last visit the city presented to my eye somewhat the appearance of sunday, in its general orderly and quiet bearing, as compared with the noisy, boisterous crowds that we saw on the streets daily in and . camp lee was on that side of the city furthest from the libby prison and rockett's wharf, and those places in the neighborhood of which i had spent most of my time in the first days of my visit, after recovering from my illness. i had neglected to visit my early friends, the guard at libby during these later days, because of the long distance of our camps from them, and not that i had forgotten or lost interest in our prisoners at libby. one sunday morning, the weather being rather more agreeable than any we had enjoyed for some days previously, i obtained permission and a pass from our captain to go to the city early in the day to attend church. the captain pleasantly granted the request. some of the officers, who were near by when i asked the privilege of attending church, facetiously recommended the captain not to refuse anything that would tend to improve the morals of his corporal or clerk. i went off alone on foot, intending to make a visit to the prisoners before i should return. perhaps i may have been feeling a little bit homesick and disgusted with richmond on this sunday morning, because on the evening previous our beautiful capitola had--to put it vulgarly--gone back on me for our lieutenant. i walked into the city via franklin street, which is the aristocratic residence street of richmond. there are on this thoroughfare some old virginia homes and families that the city and state may well be proud of. general lee's family lived on this street in a large, plain, double brick house, on the south side, one or two blocks from the capitol grounds. the house is quite ordinary-looking as compared with that of some of the large private residences in the neighborhood, but it will always remain to southern people one of the historic houses of their city, because it was here on the street, on a sunday morning after the surrender, that general lee, accompanied by a few members of his staff, rode up to his door, dismounted from his war horse--traveler--and, with a silent wave of the hand, parted with his personal staff, entered his house and closed the doors forever on his hopes of a confederacy. it is not written what occurred behind the closed doors, but there is gossip, which has, perhaps, been confirmed, that the staid, reserved, dignified old general, once inside his own hall at his home, completely broke down and fell to the floor, from which he was carried to his bed by the servants and that part of his family who were present. the home of general lee is more sought out by tourists in richmond nowadays than is that of president jeff davis. a block below, or nearest the capitol, and directly opposite the grounds, stands st. paul's episcopal church, in which both president davis and general lee worshiped. on the sunday morning of which i am writing, in , i took a position at the fountain hotel, directly opposite the church, to await the arrival of president davis. there had been a good bit of talk about mr. davis' intentions of joining this church. though he was a regular attendant during his early days in richmond, it was not until some months after--and, i think, during the day of which i write--that he was formally baptized and confirmed into that church. i did not have to wait long for the appearance of mr. davis. he came on to the steps so suddenly that i nearly missed seeing him. he was alone, and dressed in his usual plain way--had walked up from the direction of his office, when i had looked for him coming down through the grounds from his house. he spoke pleasantly to the few people whom he passed on his way, and disappeared inside the church. mr. davis, whatever may be said of his public character, and a great deal has been written against him by his own southern people, always impressed me at sight as being an agreeable, honest gentleman. i was frequently close to him, and always felt his presence, impressed with the feeling that he was having a great deal of serious trouble. i have often wondered if mr. davis ever entertained, for a moment even, the thought or fear that his life was in danger. i hope he may live long, and perhaps read the poor story of the yankee spy, who dogged his very footsteps in richmond from after the battle of bull run until the winter following, and prevented any attempt at invasion of the north. after the president had entered the church, i lounged outside while the great organ gave the beautiful sunday morning an impressive salute. when the tones had died away, feeling more homesick and blue than ever, i started off on my walk down main street toward the libby and the warehouse prisons. as libby is in the lower end of the city pretty close to rockett's wharf, it was a long walk, though it was sunday, and the shops along the way were open and dispensing refreshments to the crowds. my early rebel friend was not on guard that morning, but some of his friends said he would be around after dinner, so, under pretense of waiting for him, i sat around in such shape that i could get a good view of the "animals" as they called the prisoners. the tobacco warehouses in which the prisoners were confined have been so often described that any attempt of mine would be superfluous. it will be remembered, however, that, even before the war, all these large barn-like buildings were constructed pretty much after the form of our modern bonded warehouses. all the windows were made with iron bars, presenting the appearance of cages. groups of our poor fellows were easily to be seen through the bars, some of them having become pretty ragged; others were standing by the windows peering through the bars; a few walked or promenaded in pairs up and down the large barn-like floors. there were always two sentries and an officer at the main door, while on the pavement in front other sentries paced their silent beats, so that it was impossible for me to have any communication with them. i desired for a particular reason to ascertain the names of some of the prisoners, and, if possible, to get the address of their friends in the north, that i might test my mail communication, by sending some word direct to them. perhaps, for my own good, i was not successful. i may be permitted to say here that, in case we had another war, the benefit of the signal service code will be made apparent in this, that a silent communication may be carried on between friends of the same side under just precisely such conditions as i have described here. if there had been a prisoner inside the bars who had been familiar with the telegraph code, as adapted to the motions of the hand, i could have spelled out over the head of the guard, without his knowledge, quite as rapidly as i can write it, messages that would have been a relief and pleasure to the prisoners inside, if not otherwise beneficial. it was while standing in front of the warehouse prison, on main street, thinking and planning over the possibilities in this direction, looking intently, from where i stood on the inside of the pavement, through the windows at the prisoners, that i felt a slap on my back that caused me to jump like an india-rubber ball. the voice, which was not a familiar one, said, loudly enough for even the prisoners to hear, using my own, my right name: "hello, blank!" when i turned to see who had "struck" me, i am sure that i presented a very flushed and, perhaps, angry face. i did not at once recognize the person, probably because he was in a gray uniform, but the smiling face of his companion, in the full black beard, i at once recognized as doctor ----, of san marcos, texas, whom i had known familiarly as the young son of my uncle's neighbor. i saw that i was caught at last, as i fully believed, and determined to make the most of my short time. the tall young fellow, who had first approached me, i was able to recall, as the doctor mentioned his name and a visit we had made together to his house. i was assured somewhat, and recovered from my surprise by the doctor extending his hand, and in the most agreeable and hearty manner, said: "well, blank, i'm damn glad to see you are on the right side." i hardly knew what to say to them, the surprise was so great, but this remark served to bring me to my senses, and i replied in a somewhat embarrassed manner, by asking what they were doing in richmond? "oh! we are all here. our regiment is encamped just out here. we have been in town to church, but are going out to camp now." then taking my arm, familiarly, said: "come along, the boys will all be glad to see you?" their invitation was so cordial, and i was being urged with such earnestness to join them, that i could see at once that they did not suspect my true character. it was evident that neither of them had heard of my fort pickens affair. the one difficulty i saw before me in renewing this texas acquaintance was, that i should have to represent in richmond two different characters, under the two different names. i might be able to keep up this dual character if the two crowds were distinct or separated, but there was, of course, a great risk in this. i did not, under any circumstances, want to become known by the name in richmond by which i had been so widely published as the pensacola spy. all the rebel detective force, which was made up principally of baltimore police and detectives imported by general winder, had undoubtedly been furnished with instructions to look after spies, and perhaps i had been specially honored by their notice as being the first on record during the war. but i could not well resist the demand to accompany these two texas boys out to their camp; and when they suggested that i _must_ see my old friends from texas, and seemed to take it as an affront that i should hesitate, there seemed to be no way out of it--especially as they had proposed furnishing me a horse to return to my own camp in the evening. i reluctantly started to walk out to their camp, talking familiarly and cordially on the way, as they did about their delight at finding me on the "right" side. i could not entertain the thought that these honest-hearted texan youths, who had never before been so far from home, were capable of any trick--they were sincerely glad to see me. i felt instinctively that they were old friends and neighbors of my texas uncle, who did not suspect me of being a yankee spy. the road to the camp of the texans led in the direction of seven pines (or fair oaks), where johnston attacked mcclellan's left in the following may, and the camp itself was not far from that point. as we tramped along a pleasant chat was kept up, and though i was on the alert to hear if any suspicion attached to me for the fort pickens matter, nothing was said to indicate that either one had ever heard of the affair. they were, undoubtedly, sincere in their cordiality, and only desired to gratify their companions in camp with their success in having found one whom they all knew, so far away from their texas homes. in the talk, i gathered that one company in their regiment came from the neighborhood in which my uncle lived, and was composed principally of the very set of young fellows with whom i had been associated there only the previous winter. they gave me the names of a good many of the boys, and amused me with the accounts of the journey they had made from texas to virginia in search of the war. the fact of my having an uncle in the south would of itself have been sufficient indorsement for my "loyalty" with most of these fellows, but i recalled to myself that, while amongst them in texas, i had got into trouble several times by my outspoken northern sentiments during the presidential campaign, which was then going on. the doctor probably referred to this when he congratulated me so heartily on having found me on the right side. we finally reached the camp. i was marched up to the company quarters, and was generally recognized by the boys, who were as sincerely glad to see me as if i was just from their home. i was at home among them--everything was all right there, and i enjoyed renewing the friendship of a year previous. among the boys was one fellow, to whom i referred in the introduction of this story, as having a difficulty with--the grandson of david crockett, the hero of the alamo. young crockett, like most of his class, had been taught to presume a little on the glory of his ancestors. this had made him somewhat personally disagreeable to his associates; but he kept away from me that day. i remained in camp until after dress parade. it was a regiment of as fine a looking set of truly american men and boys as i have ever seen in either army. their war record, as the texas rangers, will bear me out in this opinion. their colonel was afterward the famous general john b. hood. i was urged to stay for camp dinner. the boys, with whom i had so often before been in camps in texas, while "rounding up" their stock, were all well up to the use of the camp-kettles and pots, and, with the advantages of the city close by them, they were able to get up in good style, first-class shape, one of the good old-style western texas dinners. we were having a good time all around. i was being urged to get a release from my maryland battery and join the texas brigade. i saw that i could not very well keep up this dual character, the very cordiality of these fellows would lead to their visiting me up in the maryland battery, and, once there, things would become badly mixed up. i would never be able to explain to these maryland fellows that i was in reality another fellow altogether, and it would cause some confusion in the texas camp to have to explain the other way to my texas friends. these thoughts, however, detracted but little from the pleasure of my visit, for, as i felt that somehow or other i would get out of the difficulty, i did not concern myself for a moment. it was a mistake to have accompanied the texans to their camp. it was, to say the least, when there, very indiscreet to place myself on exhibition among the hundreds of other spectators who were grouped in front of the texas regiment while they were having their sunday dress parade. in the society of the earnest and cordial texas acquaintances whom i had found--or who had found me--i had wholly overlooked the little circumstance that had occurred during the night at the theater, when, it will be remembered, i had been pleasantly approached after the dismissal by a couple of confederates who said they had met me in texas the preceding winter. i was then that evening in the company of the colonel, who knew me only as a marylander, and by an entirely different name than that by which the texans addressed me, and it will be remembered that i then declined to be recognized as ----, and had, perhaps, rather curtly repelled their courteous advances. as i sat at camp dinner on an improvised bench in front of the tent with my friends, with consternation i saw approaching me the very chap whom i had snubbed in the vestibule of the theater. the appearance of this tall fellow at the time, in his gray clothes, had about such an effect on me at the dinner table in that company in broad daylight as a ghost might produce when alone somewhere near midnight. he had his staring eyes fixed right on me. there was no mistaking it. my dangerous predicament rushed to my mind at once. luckily for me, perhaps, we were all seated at the table, so the fellow had politeness enough not to intrude himself upon the crowd, but walked on past us keeping his eye searchingly, and i felt sternly, fixed on me. i lost my appetite, which a moment previously was ravenous, and, as soon as i could decently do so, meekly suggested that, as i had a long way to go, i'd better leave them at once. "o, no; we are going to escort you back to your camp on a horse, as we agreed to do." that was very kind, of course, but if there was any one thing that i did not want to happen just then, was any farther attention to be paid to their guest. i declined the proffered kindness with so much earnestness that it might have had the effect of quieting the matter had not one of the fellows observed: "well, i'm going to town to-night anyway, and you can wait awhile and ride that far." i have no doubt that the conversation between myself and the texas confederates that evening (in the light of subsequent events), would be interesting to any of them yet living who may see this narrative, and if i were able to put it down here in detail it might also be interesting to the ordinary reader. i remember all that occurred during the half hour that followed the dinner hour. could i forget that banquet? while my newly-found old friends were arranging among themselves a programme to spend the evening in richmond with me as their guide, my searching glances detected that my tall theatre acquaintance had gathered a group of half a dozen of his comrades around himself, and, as i imagined, he was earnestly explaining to them his experience with me at the theatre door. of course, i must have imagined the worst; who would not have done so under the same conditions? he probably did not suspect my true character at all, and was, perhaps, only entertaining his associates with an account of what he, no doubt, termed the shabby treatment that i had accorded him, as compared with what he was witnessing in my intercourse with the other boys. it had, however, another dangerous effect of calling the attention of a great many of the regiment to their visiting comrade in gray--the maryland refugee--who was, by a stretch of the imagination, almost as far from home as were the texans, because, as they said, in their sympathetic way, when speaking of their absence and distance from home: "we can get home if we have occasion to go, but you cannot, because, you live in a foreign country that's at war with us, you know." while talking together, the doctor came up to the group of which i was the center, and remarked in a half-quizzical way, his face wearing a smiling expression: "say, blank, jim haws says he met you one night at the theatre, and you wouldn't speak to him." right here i made another mistake that day, by denying that i had refused to speak to any one. "that's what i told him, but he swears that he and bill williams both saw you there." i realized that i had again put my foot into it; but, i suppose, on the principle that a lie well stuck to will answer for the truth, i deliberately thrust myself deeper into the mire by insisting that i had not met any one at the theatre. this was satisfactory to the friends near me, who had become somewhat interested in the talk, and it all might have passed off without any further questioning or investigation if my former enemy, davy crockett, jr., had not meddled with the affair. he had, as it subsequently appeared, been volunteering his sympathies and comments unfavorable to me to the two comrades whose story of the "insult" at the theatre had reached him. of course, the motive that prompted young crockett was simply a desire to get even with me, for presuming to promptly accept a challenge from him while in texas to fight a duel. as i have said, the one thing that i most desired just at that time was to get away from that crowd. if this intention had not been so fixed in my mind, or if i had at all thought of being delayed, perhaps i should have conducted myself with more discretion, and not have committed the blunder of denying a matter that would so soon and so surely react on me and endanger my life. when we were about ready to leave the camp, and as i was flattering myself that once out of sight i should be out of mind, and have another opportunity to get away, i was confronted by the identical jim haws, who had brought to our part of the camp "a few friends," among whom was billy williams. in a voice trembling with suppressed rage, he said, looking savagely at me: "didn't you see me at the theater the other night?" i have before stated, not with egotism, but as an explanation for some of my statements, that it is or has been one of my good points to always have been able to meet a sudden danger coolly, while at the same time i confess that i would tremble with apprehension and fear if i were anticipating or expecting the same danger. looking him straight in the eye--for i was _riled_ by his savage manner--i answered, resentfully and boldly: "i don't know whether i did or not. i've seen so many fellows like you around town that i've not minded them much." for the moment my defiant manner served to give me the advantage, and the fellow was so badly stumped that he couldn't answer at once, but turning to his friend and companion, williams, whom he had brought along as a witness to prove to the boys that he was right in his assertion of my having insulted him, he said: "bill, ain't he the fellow?" whether it was a disposition on the part of bill to prevent any outbreak (a crowd was collecting), he mildly answered: "well, it looks mighty much like him, but you know we might be mistaken," and, turning to me, said, politely: "my friend felt sure you were the man we met that night, but, as i had never seen you at home, and it was so dark and crowded there, i can't be certain myself." at this stage, while i had become too much excited to talk coolly, my friends stepped in and interfered in my behalf, and bill and jim walked off with their friends, the latter muttering threats of vengeance. the little ruffle on the surface, which looked like a "difficulty" on this quiet sunday evening, created quite a commotion about the quarters. all know how quickly a fight will gather a crowd in camp, and how soon the officers become aware of it. the serious part of this threatened fight was in the fact, that it served to call general attention to me individually--would bring to the scene not only the officer of the day, but other officers of the regiment, who had been attracted by the gathering crowd. [illustration: "bill, ain't he the fellow?"] explanations followed freely in our own crowd, to the effect that it was a case of mistaken identity, which was generally accepted good-naturedly. the fact that i was a visitor, and a friend of some of the best men in the regiment, who were ready to vouch for me (as the "nephew of my uncle")--had been inhospitably or ungenerously treated by any of their men while a guest--had the effect on these good, generous-hearted boys of completely turning the tide of feeling to sympathy for me. in the general exchange of courtesies, which resulted from the officers coming down to see us, it so happened that i was introduced to a captain somebody, who, not hearing distinctly, had asked for my name a second time, and on my repeating it with some little pride on my uncle's account, he said, turning to his companion, who was also an officer: "why, isn't that the name of the yankee spy that was at pensacola?" i have often, often thought, in the years that have since passed, of that one terrible moment of my life. here i was just emerging from one difficulty, resulting from my dual character as a spy, while i was in richmond, and on the precipice of another greater danger directly in my path. a single word improperly spoken at that time would have condemned me to the scaffold in _less than_ twenty-four hours. i felt for the moment that the fates were against me and determined to crush me at last. realizing that the mere reöpening of my difficulty with the texas boys must now result in an investigation, and that would lead in the one direction, only to the gallows, i said nothing. perhaps i was too much stunned for an instant to speak; but i have often thought that my flushed face was misinterpreted by those who must have seen it to indicate resentment at the coupling of my name in such a way. my friend, the doctor, relieved my temporary embarrassment by speaking up for me, saying, in a laughable way that seemed to change the subject: "come on, let us get away from here, or somebody will swear they saw you some place else." thus relieved, i quietly suggested to the captain that i had been wearing a gray uniform up in virginia since i left texas. i was again temporarily out of danger and breathed a little freer, but became nervously anxious to get away, and hurried up the boys who were to accompany me into town. while still talking to these officers, the younger one, to whom the captain had addressed the inquiry as to the name of the pensacola spy, incidentally volunteered the information that their company, which was a part of the regiment, had been organized about galveston in the early days of april and may, and, while waiting for the enlistment of the regiment's full quota, they had been ordered to new orleans, and from thence were assigned to duty at pensacola, florida, and _were actually there about the time_ of my adventure to fort pickens. i did not feel like pursuing the conversation much further in that direction. i quickly changed the subject, so as to make an impression on their minds that i had been in active service in virginia right along. this was not difficult, and i had the satisfaction of seeing that my gray uniform had been of service again. it saved my bacon that day, sure. it seemed, in my nervousness, that the boys would never get ready to leave camp for town. when i learned the delay was caused by some disappointment about securing enough horses for all who wanted to go along, i urged with much earnestness that horses would only be an encumbrance--that we could easily walk and have more fun if not encumbered with their care. they abandoned them reluctantly, as a texan thinks he can not go a square without a horse. we all started off at last, light-footed. there was not one of that crowd of hearty boys who walked out of that camp in the gloaming of that sunday evening who suspected my true character. my heart was heavy enough as i walked along with them, brooding inwardly over the troubles which i saw must result from this sunday visit; but my feet were light, and i verily believe that i could have double-quicked it all night in almost any direction that would lead me away from there. i dared not take any of these boys to our maryland battery and introduce them to my friends there, who knew me as a different person. they were, for this time, only expecting to put in a night sky-larking in richmond, but i knew very well the time would come--very soon, too--when i must expect a return visit from them. i realized, too, that in the meantime my old enemy, davy crockett, would keep stirring up the two boys who had been only temporarily put down; and if the captain could hear of their story, and be made to believe that i was playing double with them, it would surely awaken his pensacola recollections and direct his attention to me. so i did not want to see anybody from texas any more. in attempting two different characters on the one day, in richmond, i ran a foolish risk, and had probably stirred up an investigation that would be fatal to me. this was about the situation of affairs on this sunday evening, when i was actually reckless enough to risk again mixing myself up, by acting as a guide or cicerone to a party of rebel soldiers about their own capital at night for fun. notwithstanding the previous encounters, i enjoyed the night off fully as much as any of the boys of the crowd. i was somewhat heavy-hearted when we first left the texas camp, but the hearty, joyous, unsuspecting behavior of the crowd had the effect of reassuring me, as it were; and seeing that they, at least, would stand by me in their own camp, i entered with them into the spirit of the fun in such a way that i am surprised at myself when i think of it now. we walked into town over what is known as church hill, above rockett's, on the road leading out to seven pines and fair oaks. it was about dark when we reached the colored settlement in the outskirts, and, as we began the descent of the long hill (the same on which the colored troops first entered richmond in ), we heard the church bells of the city. there is, in many souls like my own, a sympathy with sounds of this character. in our crowd was the doctor, an educated as well as a polished gentleman and scholar. when the tones reached his ear he stopped, lifted his hat reverently as he stood on the sidewalk, and recited in a manner that so impressed me that i shall never forget these words: "hist! when the church bell chime, 'tis angels music." some of the boys, inclined to poke fun at the doctor's seriousness, to which, in his absent-minded, thoughtful way, he responded: "have you never been where bells have tolled to church?" he continued in this serious strain, while the jangle of the bells lasted; and as he and i were walking side by side, he kept pouring into my ear the beautiful thoughts about church bells, home, and all its attendant happiness, that i began to feel quite homesick. "those evening bells, those evening bells, how many a tale their music tells of youth, and home, and that sweet time, when last i heard their soothing chime." the doctor suggested that we all go to church, but seeing that his recommendation did not meet with a very eager second, he amended it by adding the word "first," observing by way of explanation, that it would be a good way to put in the time for awhile. there were objections: one said he was an episcopalian--their church did not have services at night; he was supported in this evasion by another who declared he was a catholic. the doctor, appealing to me, asked if i were not an episcopalian, too; i assented to it, when he mildly observed: "i thought so; you and the other episcopalian swear and lie alike so superbly." of course the boys wanted to get into some of the "society" of richmond, and, as i had been there during the winter season, they expected me to introduce them. i had entertained them about my experiences, which naturally aroused their curiosity, and excited their interest to learn more, and, perhaps, they desired to participate a little in the social enjoyments. there was a great deal of society in richmond in the winter of , as i have said heretofore--people of all classes and all kinds were there in throngs, from every portion of the south, principally new orleans, baltimore, and other large cities. to my mind, unsophisticated as i was, there was but one--the beautiful little brunette, our capitola--the maryland slave. i had talked to these fellows about capitola so much that i was urged in the most seductive way to permit them to make her acquaintance, on my account. that sort of talk was all very nice, but it didn't have exactly the desired effect. i'd been fooled that way once before, twice before by being inveigled into introducing the mississippi lieutenant, who was anxious to see her on my account, and also who had cut me out entirely, on his own account. i didn't tell the texas fellows this part of the story, though. a spy who allows himself to get mixed up with a lady in his work, and loses his heart and parts with his judgment, is worse, decidedly worse, than one who loses his head with drink. personally, i wanted very much to call on capitola, and would have been delighted with the excuse that was offered to present my friends, but for the fact that she knew me only as mr. b----, while my friends called me mr. a----. in my eagerness to meet with her again, as i felt that now i must leave town, i was willing to take some risk. it was explained to the boys that i had assumed a fictitious name in my intercourse with capitola, and, after giving them the blind, it was arranged that i should first see our enslaved beauty alone, and obtain her consent to present the texans at her court that evening. a soldier will risk a good deal for the sake of meeting his girl, as we all know. it was with the earnest desire to accomplish the purpose of seeing my girl--just once more--to say "good-by" forever, that i was willing to meet another danger. i saw capitola alone, and nervously explained that a few of my texan acquaintances, who had heard so much of her beauty and accomplishments, were clamorous for an opportunity to kneel at the feet of "maryland." i did not attempt to say a word for myself, because it was understood that, since the mississippi lieutenant had been paying his addresses to her, we were, all of us, entirely out of the question. this disagreeable fact did not, however, prevent the handsome girl from entertaining me in a heartily cordial manner during my preliminary visit that evening in the interest of the other boys. i could not say "good-by," because, don't you see, i dare not tell anybody--not even my best girl--that i must go away; so i was denied even the poor satisfaction of a farewell with capitola. i do not remember whether i have said so before in this narrative, but, at the risk of a repetition, i will write down here what i believe to have been the truth--that capitola was attracted more by the mississippi lieutenant's uniform and position than by his superior personal appearance. that she became convinced that the blue-eyed and light-haired maryland corporal of artillery was the most devoted of her lovers, if not as handsome as many others, i have every reason to know. it was pleasantly agreed that i should introduce to her my texas friends. she, in her fascinating manner, considerately proposed to have with her one or two lady friends as her companions, who would help to pleasantly entertain my friends, the texans, who were as she expressed it, "thousands of miles from their homes." while all these fascinating interviews were being held, i, like a love-sick boy, became wholly indifferent to the dangers and complications which i was rapidly bringing about myself. i subsequently escorted my three friends around to capitola's residence on ---- street--i can not give the name of the street. i know the location very well, however, from frequent visits. it was popularly known among us as "poplar grove," as it is the custom in virginia to give names to residences. this was given to capitola's house, because one solitary and sickly poplar shade tree stood before it. that we were pleasantly and cordially received by capitola, goes without saying. she had, with bewitching taste and consideration, dressed herself for the occasion in her "maryland, my maryland," robes, as nearly as she consistently could, and, of course, she looked to my eye more beautiful than ever. not to my eye alone, either, as i saw at once that our boys were most favorably impressed, not only with her appearance, but by the ease and cordiality of her manner, which served, in some mysterious way, to make everybody feel so much at home in her presence. the doctor was particularly pleased--of all our crowd the most affable and gentlemanly and winning in conversation, being able to sustain himself creditably in any company, he was, of course, very soon at home, as we all found out to our sorrow. with him it was apparently a case of love at first sight--at least he tried to make capitola think so. as i was out of the field myself, it was something of a gratification to me to see a prospect of some one of my friends being able to shove lieutenant claiborne off the stool. some such thought as this was in my mind when, to my utter consternation, a black servant announced to capitola that "lieutenant claiborne was at the door." jumping to my feet and rushing across the room to where capitola was seated with the doctor, i begged her so earnestly not to admit lieutenant claiborne that i suppose i made myself ridiculous. she misunderstood my motive; but, with her quiet tact, she said to me, laughingly: "why, of course. i will arrange that your company shall not be interrupted." she passed out to the hallway closing the door after her, while she held a consultation with some one, whom i knew to be my lieutenant. if he had come into the room just then introductions would have ensued, and, of course, explanations must have followed; and, as i have so often said in these sketches, if there was any one thing that i desired to avoid more than another, it was any necessity for "explanations." capitola returned to the room, laughing heartily as the outside door closed with a bang, and saying to the doctor and the rest of us, as we rose to go: "oh, no! seat yourselves and be at home here this evening." there was not a word of reference to the visitor on her part until, in my eagerness, i found an opportunity to ask quietly if she had told claiborne who we were. "why, yes; i merely told him some of your friends had called by a previously arranged agreement to spend the evening." "what did he say?" "nothing at all, except that he would call later, and when i said that you would probably remain all the evening, he left me in a towering rage." then she added, laughing heartily as she spoke: "didn't you hear him slam the door?" i was safe for a little while longer, and, without caring what the next hour would develop, we proceeded to enjoy ourselves as freely as if we had nothing else to do, and not a fear to trouble us. how long we remained with capitola and her one friend is not material. when we were ready to leave this pleasant society, it was discovered by some one that it was then too late to get home to camp, unless by running the gauntlet of the city guard and patrol, who lifted everybody's pass after a certain hour. this annoyance was fully compensated for by the sympathy which the ladies expressed for us. when we were, after a good many failures, at last ready to say a final "good-night," all were made happy by pressing invitations to call again. i noticed then, and have not forgotten in these twenty-five years, that the doctor was the last to say "good-night" to capitola; that he held her hand in his while he whispered, as he spoke in a low tone, some words that we did not hear, which seemed to amuse her immensely, as she only laughed in reply. my acquaintance with the city streets and the haunts of the patrol at night enabled me to steer the party safely up to my old hotel on the square, where we engaged one room and two beds. the quartette went to bed, but not to sleep. the doctor raved like a mad man about his agreeable evening in my company, and as his talk was altogether on the subject uppermost in my mind and heart, i enjoyed it as much as he did. we occupied the same bed, and before sleeping i detailed to him the whole story of capitola, claiborne and myself, without giving myself away. i saw there was going to be trouble between the doctor from texas and the lieutenant from mississippi, on account of my maryland girl; just where _i_ was to appear, or where i was to come out of this affair, did not concern me so much as the hope that, somehow or other, when these two would get to quarreling over capitola, that it would result in neither of them obtaining her, and the end would come about--like it should in all good stories--that i would yet march into richmond some day in a federal officer's uniform and claim her by reason of my devotion, and convince her that i was as plucky as any of the southern men, worthy of a federal officer's uniform, and of her love, etc., etc. in the morning, after a hasty breakfast at the hotel, i escorted the boys down to jeff davis' office, in hopes that we might get a chance to see him come down through the square. we were disappointed in this, as he had gotten in before we arrived. my companions were interested in having me point out to them some objects and persons of interest about the capital, but the day was cold and dreary, compelling us to separate early. the texans were accustomed to the snow and slush of a virginia winter, which interfered so much with their enjoyment that day. i was the least bit uncertain about my status with our old captain, as i had overstayed my leave all night, especially as i knew that claiborne would be sure to let him know that i was in the city that night. with the return of blue monday morning, while out of sight of capitola and away from the texas boys, my small supply of common sense began to assert itself, and i saw that i was not only standing on a scaffold but the rope was about my neck. that something must be done at once was evident to the dullest sense. while pondering over what must be done, what might be the best course to pursue, having made up my mind not to return to the company at all, but to add desertion of the rebel cause to the probable charges and specifications against me, by making a desperate effort to get north that night, i was hailed on the street by the captain himself, who inquired rather savagely: "where in hell have you been?" he interrupted my explanations abruptly by saying: "we have orders to march, and all hands are getting ready; you go right out and pack up the papers." this was news--good news, i thought--and, saying as much to the captain, i ventured to ask if we were to go to manassas. "no, no; there is enough up there doing nothing; we are to go down to hunt for those damned tennessee unionists that are burning bridges." this wasn't so satisfactory, but i was glad to hear that we were to leave richmond _at once_, and i hastened to camp lee. here i found everybody packing up, everything was in commotion, and i entered with zest into the preparation to leave camp lee. lieutenant claiborne and one section of the battery were to remain in richmond. it appears that a sudden demand had been made on the rebel war department for troops to protect the railroad bridges in east tennessee, and as our old captain happened to be on good terms with the secretary, he volunteered his company for this service, temporarily, as the government seemed unable to supply them with guns to take to the field at manassas. so it happened that, on the evening of the same day, in company with the colonel and lanyard, we carried our bundle down street, stopped a moment at the familiar old restaurant to taste apple-jack once more, and, without an opportunity to say "good-by" to capitola, we spent the night on the railroad train, reaching some town for an early breakfast. i had taken the precaution to drop in to see colonel jones, who had oversight of the mail service to the north as well as the general exchange of prisoners, and left with him a brief cipher dispatch for my friends north, explaining my change of base from richmond; also, a note to some texas friends, telling them our command had been ordered to _manassas_, and expressing a hope to meet them there soon. i had been careful enough not to designate the battery explicitly or to name the officers. chapter xxi. maryland "refugees"--coercing into the union east tennessee "refugees"--parson brownlow interviewed--a happy experience with maggie craig--the battle of mill spring--first union victory as seen from inside the rebel army. i reluctantly take the reader away from the rebel capital and its attractions. i was leaving richmond at least, somewhat against my own inclination. while lying curled up in a seat in the old emigrant car, that was being used to transport the troops, sleeping, and, perhaps, dreaming of "the girl i left behind me," i was roughly awakened by a sharp bump on the end of our train that sent me bouncing off the seat against the back of the one in front. when i hurriedly picked myself up and looked around me wildly, i realized that something had happened; and, as everybody else seemed to be rushing to the doors and windows, i made a reckless break in the same direction, but before i could get into the aisle of the car the floor of our car in the vicinity of where i was standing seemed to rise up suddenly. in the same instant i found that something had caught me by the left leg near my knee, which held me as in a vise. in my desperate struggles to extricate myself, i threw myself violently backward, my head striking the iron corner of an adjoining seat. i succeeded in breaking loose, but only after the car had come to a stop, and the danger was all past. it was only a run-off, that caused the truck under our car to turn and twist itself upside down in such a way as to force part of the woodwork through the floor, resulting in squeezing my leg against the seat, so that it cut deeply into the flesh and left a mark big enough to entitle me to a pension--when the rebel soldiers get their turn. this happened near a little town located close upon the virginia and east tennessee line, named i think, abington. we laid off there to repair damages--to the railroad. none of us were hurt seriously enough to require more than a patching up, which our private surgeon was competent to do. the accident, however, gave me an opportunity to meet, for the first time in many months, something that was pretty scarce in the eastern part of virginia at that time, namely--an outspoken union man, who was also a native of virginia. when we learned that we should be delayed there until a couple of cars could be brought out to replace the broken ones, the colonel and i concluded to strike out for ourselves, in search of some warm meals and perhaps a bed. with his assistance i limped along to a house standing some distance from the railroad track, where we applied for entertainment, offering pay for the same. a tall, lank man met us pleasantly at his gate, and to our proposition he replied in a cordial, though dignified, manner so foreign to his appearance and surroundings that i was surprised. "if you young gentlemen will step inside my house, my wife, no doubt, will be pleased to entertain you." inside the large, old-fashioned country house, such as i had seen more frequently in pennsylvania than in virginia, we were introduced to "mother," as a couple of young gentlemen who had been belated by the railroad mishap, and desired some warm food. i had been a soldier long enough then to understand, in a vague sort of a way, that the term "gentleman" was not properly applied to common soldiers, though we endeavored, by our conduct, to merit the title at this time. it was my zealous rebel friend, the colonel, who got into an argument with our host over the war question. it was brought about by something that was said during the natural inquiries that follow such meetings as to where we came from, etc., when the colonel rather boastfully, perhaps, informed him that we were a band of exiles from maryland. we had enjoyed so much homage on this score while in richmond that it had become a second nature to us to expect it as a matter of course from all quarters, and when this west virginia gentleman rather quizzingly observed: "well, now, mother, isn't this remarkable. here are some maryland secessionists being sent away down here to tennessee to punish and coerce unionists?" it seems that this unionist, who lived in what is now west virginia, was a member of the state legislature, and who was also a citizen of some prominence, highly esteemed, and looked upon as one of the leaders of this band of unionists that devotedly remained steadfastly loyal throughout the war. the general tenor of the conversation had the effect of reviving my interest, and served to stir anew my zeal for the cause. it also gave me a wonderful appetite for the old-fashioned, home-like meal that the good mother had been preparing for us, while the other fellows were talking. that i enjoyed the good, warm supper more than the colonel, was evident to all the household, because he had permitted the talk to raise his choler so that he was scarcely in a suitable frame of mind to appreciate the kind attention of the lady. they declined our proffered pay for the entertainment, which had so generously been furnished. as we were about to leave, and while the colonel and the host were yet predicting, each in his own way, all sorts of terrible dangers, i could not resist the temptation, while saying "good-by" to the old lady, to quietly whisper to her that i was heartily glad to have met with a union family; that i was reminded of home very much by the visit, and i would soon be home, too. she was so surprised at my manner that she wasn't able to answer. what the colonel got from the old man as a parting salute i don't know, only that it made him very cross and had the disagreeable effect of causing him to want to walk back to the train faster than i was able to keep up in my crippled condition. we passed through greenville, in east tennessee, which was pointed out to us as the home of senator andy johnson, of tennessee. i should have liked to stop over here to have visited the residence and met some of the friends of senator johnson, who had been so much interested in my southern experiences, but our train only remained a little while. we moved along slowly enough, stopping at what i thought must be every side-track on the road, to meet some trains that were due from the opposite direction, but which seemed never to come. the burning of several of the bridges by unionists, or those who were charged with being unionists, had put the railroad people all out of their regular reckoning, causing this general delay of the trains. by reason of my rather close official and personal relations with the captain of our company, i was enabled by some quiet questioning to learn from him in advance of the rest of the boys that our destination was knoxville, tennessee, or, as he termed it in the military phrases that we learned to use so aptly, "knoxville was to be our base of operations, but our objective point was probably cumberland gap, that being the nearest point of probable contact with the enemy." i was very glad to learn that there was to be something that looked like a contact, because, now that i had left richmond and virginia, my entire purpose and aim was to get back home as quickly as possible, and they couldn't "advance on the enemy" any too quickly for me. in thus coming down to tennessee to get to washington, the old saying was realized in my case, that "the nearest way home often leads the farthest way round." we reached knoxville on a cold, cheerless day. a crowd of yankee troops could not have met with a more chilling reception in any town in the south than was accorded to the maryland refugee's rebel battery--both by the people and the weather. i had become rather accustomed, like the rest of the maryland fellows, to expect complimentary observations on our self-sacrificing spirit, in exiling ourselves from our homes for the good of the southern cause. we didn't get any of this sort of taffy in east tennessee. i thought i was the only man in the crowd who felt like resenting this "outrageous treatment," as they all felt it to be; but, as will be seen hereafter, there were others besides myself in this battery of maryland refugees who secretly enjoyed the discomfiture of our officers and men at the hands of the tennessee unionists. to me it was most refreshing to meet with an outspoken union man. of course, they were--at this time--somewhat careful in their expressions of dissent to the southern cause, but we all understood, in a general way, that those who were not outspoken in their sentiments for the south were opposed to secession and the war, and as the outspoken element was just then mighty scarce, the inference was that the majority was against us. quarters had been provided for our crowd in what must have been a deserted old mansion house, which was situated--as nearly as i can remember--on a road near the outskirts of the town. i think it was the swan house. if the house is still there, i am sure i will find it when i go down there to revisit and renew some old but not forgotten friendships, and, perhaps, may be able to practice some amateur photography on it and some of the "scenes" which are related in this chapter, that i may supply some friendly reader hereafter. on account of the accident up the road, which had bruised me up so that i was becoming quite lame and helpless, it was arranged that i should find a private house in which to live until i could sufficiently recuperate to stand the travel on horseback. it is likely that i was indebted to my constant friend's (the colonel) consideration for securing me comfortable quarters in the home of a refined family, who lived in that section of the town known, i think, as east knoxville. the name was craig. i am giving the correct names here, because i am desirous, even at this late date, of acknowledging an indebtedness to this family for their many kindnesses to me, as well, also, that i may explain to them and the other residents of that city some of my actions that, at the time, must have been bewildering in the light they then had. if they have thought of me at all since i was their guest in , the lapse of twenty-five years has not served to further enlighten them, and will be, at least, a gratification to them as well as to myself. mr. craig was an official at the county court house, located in the other end of the town--i think either the prothonotory or county clerk. he was rather an old gentleman at that time and is scarcely living now, but his family of accomplished daughters, who were then at home, if living, will no doubt recall their soldier guest of . mine host was one of those old-fashioned gentlemen, who was able to entertain a visitor handsomely without asking questions; it was understood that he was or, at least, had been a union man. on this important question, at that time, he was the most agreeably non-committal man in his own house of any person i have ever met. the wife and mother, like the father, was all attention and kindness to the needs of the poor soldiers, never stopping a moment to inquire whether they were of the north or the south. there was a daughter, mary, who was decidedly and emphatically a warm-hearted "female rebel." an elder sister, miss maggie, whom i will only attempt to describe as a most amiable, sweet girl, with dark, wavy, auburn hair, was the union girl of the family; though not as outspoken or decided in her way of expressing herself, she was, nevertheless, settled in her conviction that the government was right and that slavery was wrong; and she put it, at the time, in a way that was comforting to me: "it's not right; slavery is a sin and an evil, and it will not be permitted to exist." of course, miss maggie became a favorite with me during the week or two that i remained confined to the house by the bruises which had been so aggravated by the cold and neglect into something that threatened serious results. she was the good angel of the family, and attended to my every need as if i were an only brother returned from the war to receive her nursing and tender care. there was also a younger sister, laura, perhaps about twelve or fourteen years old, the little beauty of the family, with dark eyes and long, curling hair, whose political sentiments, sweetly and disdainfully expressed, agreed with those of the rebel sister. all of the family were, however, kind and good, and, in the almost constant discussion of the merits of the two sides, not an unkind or harsh word was spoken of either. at every meal-time the old gentleman reverently asked a blessing over the table, and usually lengthened it into prayers for both sides. around the corner from mr. craig's house, on a lot that almost joined the craig property, in the rear, was the house of parson brownlow. at the time of which i am writing mr. brownlow was achieving national reputation by his bold and defiant stand against the southern leaders, and his outspoken, belligerent union sentiments had gotten him into all sorts of trouble with jeff davis' government. i had heard of parson brownlow all my life, having been raised in a methodist family. before the war i had been much interested in his denominational discussions with the baptists of tennessee, the accounts of which were printed at the time. the craig family were, i think, baptists, and probably on this account they were, as miss craig politely put it, "neighborly, but not intimate," with the brownlow family. it seemed as if the family had always been in hot water. there was a son, who had either killed somebody or been killed himself. another boy was around stirring things up in a way that made the old town lively. the old gentleman owned and edited a paper--the knoxville _whig_--that circulated pretty much everywhere, and served to stir people and things up, not only in east tennessee, but all over the country. at the time of which i am writing, the parson had been arrested, by order of the rebel government, for his outspoken union sentiments, and was a prisoner in his own house. i thought at the time of my visit that, personally, mr. brownlow and his family did not seem to receive much sympathy from his immediate neighbors, though politically the town was in full accord with his sentiments. the members of the family were, however, quite able to take care of themselves. they seemed to be entirely indifferent as to the opinions on the propriety of their course that other people might entertain. mr. brownlow himself was a rather tall, gaunt, smooth-faced old gentleman; just such an appearance as one would expect to find in the pioneer backwoods methodist preacher of the peter cartwright stamp. his smooth face, which was strongly marked, was rather expressionless, reminding one somewhat of an indian. the cheek-bones were prominent, and his under lips protruded, which, with his touseled hair, gave him something of a belligerent air. i saw him frequently, and it always seemed to me as if his broad lower jaw snapped open and shut when he spoke, something like an automatic machine that one sees the ventriloquists working on the stage. on my youthful and inquisitive mind, at the time, was created the impression that he never spoke at all except to "jaw" somebody or something. i'm not attempting a criticism of parson brownlow. everybody knows that every time he opened his mouth he said something, and that his words to-day are quoted all over the land. it was his abrupt manner that seemed so odd and harsh to me, when compared with the mild, courteously-spoken words of the official and unionist, mr. craig, my host--the two persons being so closely associated in my mind and observation daily. the home of parson brownlow was one of the plain, old-time structures that are to be met with by the hundred in every town of like size and character as knoxville. it was situated in what would be called a back street; it was not so pretentious, but probably fully as comfortable as some of the houses on the front streets. of course, there was a porch in front of the house extending over each side of the front door. the only difference in the style of architecture in this particular porch from all the others was, that on account of its abutting too closely on the pavement, or slab-stone walk, the steps led down from each side of the porch into the little front yard instead of straight in front on to the pavement. at the time of my visit there was another ornament or decoration to the parson's front door-steps that was not to be seen on the other houses, in the form of living statuary, representing confederate soldiers in gray uniforms, and with loaded muskets in their hands, who were on guard as sentries over the person of the parson, who was then a state prisoner. he was subsequently removed to jail and compelled to live in a damp disagreeable pen, that had been used for years as the slave-cage for runaway niggers. this was rough, but it's true, as i can testify. one reason, perhaps, for his removal to the jail has not been given by himself or his friends. as i have said, the brownlows were a peculiar people--"devilish peculiar," in fact. while we can all admire the pluck and spirit of the family, which resented the presence of armed rebel soldiers on their own door step--their castle--one can not help but feel that a little discretion, mixed up with their abundant spirit, would have brought out more satisfactory results. the parson's combativeness must have been in the blood of the family, as it was not confined to himself and his sons, but was exhibited while i was there, in a striking manner, by one of his daughters. for some fancied or real offense on the part of one of the guards, who was stationed at her father's door with a loaded gun in his hands, miss brownlow, after deliberately giving the soldier and his officer "a piece of her mind," coolly walked up to the guard and vigorously and repeatedly slapped him in the face, and kept up her attack until the man actually backed down off the side of the porch, while the officer of the guard, who was with him, hastily scrambled down on the other side, leaving her in possession of the entrance to the castle. the incident had a widespread notoriety at the time, when the facts reached the north; the affair was widely published throughout the country with many exaggerations. i did not witness this affair, but gathered from the misses craig and others what is probably the true story. my confinement to the house of my good friends, the craigs, though sick and sometimes suffering, was made to me the most agreeable two weeks of my trip south, all through the kind care and attention of the family. miss maggie and myself seemed to be nearest in accord in our sentiments, not only of the war, but maybe of love and peace and, through her pleasant friendship, i was enabled to lose, in a manner, some of my interest in the far-away capitola. by the exercise of some diplomacy, necessitating a good deal of talking and some shameful lying to a young and innocent girl, i induced miss maggie and her sister to take me down to the brownlow house, as a visitor who was desirous of meeting the now celebrated family. i did not dare to intimate to miss maggie that i sympathized deeply with the cause of the brownlows; in fact, i never admitted to a living soul, not one--not even after my return from my trips--the true character and purpose of the undertaking. an elder sister, having some doubts about the brownlows' probable reception of a visitor in a gray blouse uniform, thought it advisable to arrange the matter beforehand, and sent the little girl around to the house one day with a polite note, stating that a maryland soldier desired the pleasure of their acquaintance. the mother looked with some disfavor on the proceeding, but, of course, maggie and i accomplished our purpose, and the note was returned with a verbal answer to "come ahead." this was not exactly as encouraging a response as we had hoped for, but, after a little fun from the mother and older sister over our probable reception, they arranged among themselves for a short call during the afternoon. i was gathering information; and, feeling secure through my supposed sympathy with mr. brownlow, i had not the least hesitancy about meeting him personally; i did not consider the family failings at all. i knew, too, that i should soon leave there for home--my mind was already settled on that--and i could travel now without the fear of meeting any persons who had known me at manassas, richmond, or pensacola. my plans were to reach the union lines at the nearest point, which was then cumberland gap. as i have tried to explain, the brownlows' residence was just around the corner, so that it was like a neighborly "run in for a little while" for the misses craig to escort their guest around to their house that afternoon. the parson being a prisoner in his own house, his guard was under strict orders not to permit any communication between the imprisoned, fighting preacher and his union friends. to make this military order thoroughly effective, the officer of the guard had found that it was necessary to make it general, so as to exclude everybody, as it was well seen that the population were almost unanimously loyal, the visitors to the brownlow family were most likely to be enemies to the rebel government, or, at least, unionist suspects. when we reached the door, where we encountered the guard, miss craig left to me the task of overcoming the obstruction of a loaded musket in the hands of a soldier in gray. i am not sure whether it was the shameful lies i told the guard, the gray uniform i was wearing, or the pleasant, smiling face of my companion that had the effect of inducing the man in charge so suddenly to change, yield and admit us into the house without question. but i have always inclined to the belief that the influence was the large, imploring, brown eyes of my lady companion, which were brought to bear on the guard. i remember that we had some talk after the visit closed about this guard, who kept his eyes more closely on miss maggie, during our visit, than either on the prisoner or the other surroundings. once over the threshold, we had yet to encounter the old lion in his den, or, more properly speaking, the wounded bear in his hole. the weather was so cold that a fire was necessary, which fact was impressed on my mind by our introduction into the parson's presence, his first salutation being a request to "shut the door," and then at once apologizing in a mild, apologetic manner; he complained of the rough usage he had been obliged to submit to in his own house, by the guard insisting upon opening doors through his hall whenever they saw fit. he, and more especially his wife, imagined they did more of this than was necessary, for the sole purpose of annoying him. mrs. brownlow insisted that the purpose of the soldiers was to kill her husband by exposing him to these draughts during his illness. the parson had been quite seriously ill for some time. the sickness was incurred by his terrible exposures, first while an outcast or exile in the mountains, and subsequently by the miserably mean and hoggish treatment while confined in the knoxville slave-pen cage among the crowded unionists. the complete story of the imprisonment, sufferings and brutal treatment of the hundreds of unionists, among whom were some old men of seventy-five years; embracing in the list of martyrs, preachers, lawyers, judges, as well as others of the most prominent and respectable people of that section, simply because they were unionists--or had dared to be loyal to the government, or even entertained at a remote period an opinion on the subject different from that of the rebel--would excel in many respects the horrors of andersonville. i regret that i can not in this narrative tell half of my own observation, but perhaps some one will yet write the true story of east tennessee in - . while i was there as a rebel soldier, i witnessed one sight alone, not one horrible feature of which has been effaced from my memory, and which has not--that i can recall--been made generally public. i refer to the double execution of an old man of seventy, a respected class-leader in the methodist church, and his son. the old man was obliged to hear first the dreadful shrieks of innocent protest from his son's lips, and though the boy's cries pierced even the hearts of the new orleans wharf-rats, who had the execution in charge, the old man was brutally compelled by colonel ledbetter to gaze upon the dreadful, horrible agony of his son on the scaffold, where he himself was to be hung in a few moments. at the time of our visit, brother brownlow was snugly wrapped up in one of those old-fashioned, striped shawls, that probably belonged to his wife's wardrobe. he sat that afternoon in a great, old, hickory rocking-chair, with his stocking feet perched on another chair, looking at me, at first sight, more like a sick old woman than such a dangerous character as to require the constant attendance of a large armed guard at his door, day and night. his face was thin, and his general appearance of emaciation showed the effects of his recent sickness and sufferings. i can well recall the queer expression of wondering scrutiny in the big eyes of the old parson, as he slowly turned to me when i was introduced by his neighbor's daughter as a "refugee" soldier from maryland. that he was a little bit suspicious as to the object of this visit under such circumstances is not to be wondered at, when his surroundings at the time are remembered. as a consequence, perhaps, mr. brownlow was not inclined to talk to me, more than the ordinary politeness to a stranger in his own house demanded. the parson's wife and daughter, however, who were present, did not seem to entertain any doubts or fears as to any danger to be apprehended, as they kept up a constant clatter with miss maggie about the outrageous treatment they were being subjected to. to my own surprise afterward, as well as theirs at the time, i blurted, involuntarily, out some genuine expressions of sympathy for them, when miss brownlow detailed how the brute, colonel ledbetter, had, without ceremony of a request, rudely entered the sick man's chamber, demanding that "this 'assumed' sick man set an hour when he would be ready to leave town." this, at a time when mr. brownlow was not able to lift his head from the pillow of the bed, to which he was then confined. on this rather premature outbreak on my part, miss maggie took occasion to say to the family: "i'm sure our friend is not a very bad rebel; he is pretty homesick, already." this latter observation seemed to rouse the parson's interest in the visit, and turning to me, in a voice almost inaudible from weakness, he said: "i should be glad to know what induced a maryland boy to leave his home for this secession cause." just what i replied must be left to the imagination. i don't remember myself, only that i went as far as i dared, and said in manner--if not in words--that i was going back home. something was said, either by miss maggie or myself, as to the opinions we both quietly entertained that slavery was wrong and was at the bottom of it all, which seemed to stir the old man up in a way that astonished me. i don't remember his exact words, but if there is any one thing that parson brownlow could do better than another it was to pile up epithets. [illustration: an interview with parson brownlow.] "no," he said, raising his voice to a half-shriek; "it's not slavery. i am a slave-owner myself, and i am a union man," and then continuing in a strain of abusive words, directed to the leaders, which would read something like this: "any man who says i am a black republican or an abolitionist is a liar and a scoundrel," getting more excited as he continued: "it's these god-forsaken, white-livered leaders, who are hell-deserving assassins." his family seemed so accustomed to this sort of talk that they took but little note of what the parson was saying; it scarcely had the effect of stopping their own flow of complaint about the guards. mrs. brownlow said to her husband in a quiet way not to allow himself to become excited, on account of his weakness, and with a mild hint added that he might be overheard. "i take back nothing i have ever said: they are corrupt, unprincipled villains; if they want satisfaction out of me for what i have said--and it has been no little--they can find me here any day of life, right where i have lived and preached for thirty years." there was one remark which the old man made that afternoon which i have never forgotten. mrs. brownlow had been telling about the dirt the rebel guards made in her hall, with their tobacco, as well as the noise incident to the changing of the guard every two hours, and their rude intrusion into the bedroom at all hours--to get warm, they said. the parson in an undertone, as if exhausted by his previous outburst, said: "they are worse than weeds in the garden, and exactly like fleas out in my hog-pen there;" stopping for breath, he kept on: "why, they play cards on my front porch on sunday, and i, a preacher, have to hear their oaths in my house, that would blister the lips of a sailor." when i laughed at this a little, he growled out: "oh those cowardly assassins, who disarm women and children, and set bloodhounds after their fathers and grandfathers, who are hiding from their persecution in the smoky mountains in this winter weather, have the meanness, without the courage, to do anything." i was entertained that afternoon in a way that made such an impression on my mind that i shall never forget even a single striking point that occurred, and the reader is referred to the files of the cincinnati papers of the winter of for an account of this interview, which, as a war correspondent, i reported at that time. once the parson got fairly started, the rest of the party became interested as well as amused listeners. when he would run down a little, something would be said that would seem to wind him up again, and he would go off like a clock without a pendulum or balance wheel. something was said about the geographical or commercial effect of the proposed separation of the south from the north. i think i must have said something to lead up to this, as the parson turning to me, said, while pointing his long, bony finger toward me: "young man, it can never be done." and, by way of illustration, he continued in an impressive and intensely dramatic way: "this union will be dissolved only when the sun shines at midnight, or when water flows up stream." some one interrupted to say, laughingly: "why, the sun is shining at midnight at this moment in the other part of the world." and his own daughter chimed in: "yes, and our teacher says the mississippi _does_ run up north in its tortuous course." this created a little laugh at his expense. but, without noticing it or smiling himself--by the way, he was so dreadfully solemn looking--i doubt if he ever smiled--he got back on them by saying: "well, it will happen only when democrats lose their inclination to steal." after the laugh over this had subsided, he became eloquent as well as emphatic: "and that will be when the damned spirits in hell swap for heaven with the angels, and play cards for mean whisky." that's exactly the sort of a man parson brownlow was to talk; and we all know that he acted out his words to the bitter end. then, by way of personal application, the parson said: "i am not only a tennessee union man of the jackson and andy johnson stripe, but i'm a native of virginia. my ancestors fought for the union in the revolutionary war, and their descendents have fought to preserve it in every war since. this country is as loyal as any state in the north." mr. brownlow's astonishing way of putting things was impressed on my mind, by his apt way of illustrating the dependence of the south upon the north, in his argument to show that disunion was not practicable. "why," he said, "we are indebted to the north for everything." while he was speaking he held a pocket-knife in his hand; holding it up he said: "this knife comes from the north; the hats and clothes we wear, the shoes on our feet, every piece of furniture in this room," and, pointing to an adjoining room, where one of the ladies was quietly engaged in preparing the tea-table for our entertainment, "the ware on that table, out there; and the farmer gets all the tools north to work the farm that supplies the food we eat." then with an expression of disgust: "even the spades that dig our graves, and the coffins we are buried in, come from the north." here miss maggie felt impelled to speak a word in defense of her native south, observing: "but, mr. brownlow, they haven't any better minds or people in the north; it's only their educational facilities that give them this advantage." this gave me an opportunity to say that "the north didn't have any clearer heads than mr. brownlow's, nor any sweeter ladies than i had seen in tennessee." the parson didn't even smile at this attempt at flattery, but kept on in the same strain, reciting some of his experiences while in the prison at knoxville, only one or two of which i can recite. that which made the greatest impression on my mind was the interview of a young girl with her aged father the morning of the day set for his execution, as one of the bridge-burning conspirators. the parson's manner was at all times serious, but his story of the heart-breaking farewell of the daughter to an aged father, and its effect upon the one hundred other suspects who were confined with him, and who were obliged to witness the scene, is beyond the powers of my pen to describe. the one redeeming feature of it was--the rough-talking parson, acting in the character of a minister, endeavored to soothe the heart-broken daughter as he could in the most comforting words for an hour, alternately praying and talking, amid the sobs of the hardy mountaineers who were witnesses to it all. the parson said it occurred to him, as a matter of policy, in order to separate them, and not with any hope of success, he suggested sending a message to jeff davis in the name of the daughter, begging a pardon for her aged father--her only dependence in the world. the execution was to occur at p. m., and he had purposely delayed mentioning this last hope that she might have all the time that was possible of the last hours with her father. it was p. m. when he wrote with his pencil, on a leaf torn from his note book, a brief dispatch addressed to jeff davis, craving his mercy and a pardon for her old father. the girl herself took it to the telegraph office, which was in the same square with the jail; the kind-hearted telegraphers interested themselves in her behalf, and rushed her message through to richmond, not expecting a reply, as there was but an hour or so left; when, to the surprise and delight of every person, probably without an exception, a message was promptly returned by mr. davis commuting the sentence to imprisonment at tuscaloosa during the war. i am glad to be able to record this fact in favor of mr. davis. i believe it may also be set down to his credit that much of the persecution of unionists, and the brutal punishment of the same, was without his knowledge. it has been said that if mr. davis has been consistent in anything more than another, it has been in his life-long devotion to his principle of state rights or local self-government. yet one has to wonder how his relentless attitude toward the coerced unionists of east tennessee is to be explained. in this way i was entertained by mr. brownlow, while his good wife and daughter were engaged in preparing an evening tea for us. when we were invited out to the table--i asked to be allowed to wash my hands, and was shown the toilet stand in the same room the parson occupied. i picked up a brush to dress my hair a little--you know those pretty brown eyes of miss maggie were yet in the house, and i wanted to primp up while at the glass--the parson looked over toward me, after indicating where i would find a comb, and said, without a smile: "the combs come from the north, too, and now, since the war, there won't be a fine-tooth comb to be had in the south;" then in an undertone to me: "the rebels are full of squatter sovereigns hunting for their rights in the territories." we sat down to the tea-table without the parson's company, he being obliged to remain in his room, partly on account of his parole, but principally because he was just recovering from a serious illness, it being necessary to guard against a relapse, which would come from taking cold. he had done pretty much all the talking while we were in his company, and as we all knew he was in the habit of speaking right out in meeting without any regard to consequences, even before the war, and the fact of there being an armed guard at his own door, as well as the presence of my gray uniform alongside of his, did not at all prevent his ready "flow of language." i do not imagine that he would have talked so freely, and in such a harsh criticizing way, in my presence had i not encouraged him to believe that i was a disappointed marylander, while miss maggie added to this impression by endorsing me as a homesick refugee. at the tea-table the ladies of the family did most of the talking. i kept my mouth occupied devouring some hot biscuit and honey, and drinking coffee with real cream in it, out of dainty old-fashioned tea-cups, while my eyes feasted on the sweet face and brown eyes of miss maggie. i had enough of the visit, and as soon as it could politely be done, we gave our host and hostess a pleasant "good-by." after this visit to the brownlow's, where i had been permitted to witness, in one case, the effects of the dastardly treatment by a government of rebels, who were advertising to the world that "they were contending only for their rights against the tyranny of the lincoln government," and heard from the lips of one who seemed to be a dying unionist martyr, it may be imagined that i was in no frame of mind to dally any longer in the rebel camps. i wanted to go home--i wanted to go badly--and i determined before i left the parson's house that evening that i should--unknown to him at the time--advise the authorities at washington, and give to the northern press a careful account of my interview with him. i did it, too, through the cincinnati papers a few days subsequent to the interview as stated. i had gathered so much information since leaving richmond about the union hopes and sufferings, and i felt so great a sympathy for them, that i was, to use a vulgar term, "slopping over." there was now no chance to communicate with the north by mail from tennessee--that i had yet got on to--as there had been in richmond, and beside i was so full of news that it couldn't be put on paper in the brief style which the simple cipher permitted me to use. we spent the evening after the tea at the parson's in the craig family's parlor, in a way highly enjoyable to me. i felt like a boy who had been absent from home for months, and who was being entertained at a farewell party in his honor. as i have said before, there were several ladies in the craig family, all of whom were present that evening; in addition there was a miss rose maynard, who was the daughter of the loyal congressman from that district. their residence was on one of the main streets of the town, and at the time of which i write the hon. mr. maynard was exiled to congress at washington. i will state here that i met him on my return to washington, a few days later, when i gave him the latest news of his family. among the gentlemen present was a mr. buchanan, who was a confederate soldier then stationed at knoxville. he was, i think, the son of a buchanan who had been a minister to the netherlands, under the former democratic administration. i mention him here, on account of his having been more recently from washington than myself. i was able to gather from his talk to the ladies, in a general way, that he had in some way been acting as a sort of a spy for the rebels; at least he had been in communication with those who were so engaged, and it was through his boastful talk of his family connections that i secured one of the most important secrets of my mission. i will do mr. buchanan the justice and credit to say that he was an accomplished young gentleman. he had been abroad with his parents, or perhaps it was an uncle, and being raised, as it were, in the diplomatic world, he was, of course, able to conduct himself in a becoming way in the society of ladies. indeed, he seemed to completely eclipse me for that evening with these ladies, but i was so filled with homesickness just then that i did not care so very much about it. one of mr. buchanan's happy accomplishments was his ability to recite, in what we all felt to be a perfectly delightful way, poe's and byron's poetry. somebody had learned of his talent in this direction, so we kept the young fellow "going" right along. only one of his recitations remain in my memory, that of "annabel lee"; indeed, and in truth, i may say now with him, that "the stars never rise, but i see the bright eyes" of miss maggie, who seemed to be so much infatuated with him. the younger miss craig and buchanan were of the same mind on the war question. my gray uniform talked for me, while miss maggie, to my great delight, amused the parlor full of company with a ludicrous account of the battle of mill spring, or fishing creek, given her and her friend, by the rebel troops from that section, who had participated in it. it will be remembered that this little fight was one of the first, if not the very first, union victory in the west. zollicoffer was killed, and the rebels retreated in the very worst disorder as far to the rear as knoxville, tennessee, over a hundred miles from the battlefield. miss maggie told the story in her delightful way, appealing, as she went along, to her rebel sister and others who were opposed to her side for confirmation as eye-witnesses to the ludicrous appearance of the rebel soldiers as they rode back to town on mules--in their dirty, ragged clothes, many of them hatless, and sometimes two or three on one old mule. to make it more interesting, she related, as a preliminary, how the gallant secessionists had marched out of town but a few days before with a whoop and a hurrah, she declaring: "she felt sure those men would go straight through to boston, and bring lincoln back as they returned via washington." the father, who had been quietly sitting back in the corner, enjoying maggie's fun at her sister's and mr. buchanan's expense, broke his silence to add drily: "mr. brownlow says, when they saw the stars and stripes and looked into the muzzles of the union guns, they started to run, and didn't stop 'till they got to the other side of sundown." if there are any readers of the western armies who participated in mill spring or fishing creek, i can assure them that their little victory that day was a great god-send to thousands of the noblest-hearted unionists of east tennessee, who, from their hiding-places in the rocks and crevices of the mountains, saw the boastful rebels run like wild sheep a hundred miles without stopping. there was a piano in the parlor, as well as three or four persons who were able to spank it right well, so, between the recitations of our poet and the droll stories by miss maggie about the rebels run back to town, we enjoyed a pleasant evening together, which will long be remembered by me as one of the many agreeable nights of my varied war experience. one little story related by mr. craig, later in the evening, served to throw a mantle of caution about me, else i might have been tempted, under the jolly feeling existing among the company, and the influence in my own mind, as it was to be my last night, to make some "union confessions" to miss maggie in confidence. mr. craig said in his slow, quiet way: "there was a funny affair happened up-town to-day. you know there has been a daily prayer-meeting for some time which has been conducted here by the several ministers of the different churches, alternately. they have all along a little sign printed on card-board tacked against the wall, reading 'union prayer-meeting; all are welcome.' well," he continued, with a sly laugh: "there was a georgia regiment came in here to-day from _pensacola_, and a lot of them got too much whisky aboard, and seeing this sign, _union_ prayer-meeting house, and probably having heard of the unionists of east tennessee, served to raise their bad blood at once, and for a while came near causing a small riot, until the matter was explained. "some who were too drunk or ignorant to be made to see that the word 'union' was not always to be considered offensive to a southern man, would not be satisfied until the card was removed." this little play of the georgia regiment on the word "union," which serves to show the sentiment and feeling then, afforded this company some amusement, but to me, the one word "pensacola" was far more significant than any other that mr. craig had spoken. there was then a regiment in town from pensacola. that town, nor any other, was big enough to hold me, at the same time, with anybody that had been to pensacola. so that here was another inducement for me to get away toward home. after leaving richmond and the texans in the lurch as to my whereabouts and destination, i had felt that in the mountains of east tennessee i would be at least secure from any possible re-union with any former pensacola or fort pickens associates, but it seemed as if this florida experience, like hamlet's ghost, would not down. when we came away from richmond so hurriedly, it will be remembered that lieutenant claiborne with a portion of our battery had been left in camp lee. if i remember aright, they were either to recruit or perhaps they were to await the arrival of some english cannon which were expected via the blockade, and in that case it was probably the intention to order us _back_ there, to be sent as a solid battery to johnston's army in virginia. i was the least bit apprehensive, too, after i had been away some days, and had leisure to think over the matter more carefully, that claiborne might in some way run across the doctor through their mutual admiration of capitola. as i was "only a boy," as capitola had so heartlessly said, i had been obliged to sorrowfully leave the doctor and the lieutenant to fight over capitola among themselves, never thinking or caring much at the time whether i should become mixed up any further or not. chapter xxii. cruelty of general ledbetter--another narrow escape--ordered to cumberland gap--a wearisome journey--arrived at the gap--the stolen letter--alone in the darkness--the north star--day dawn. most of the time in knoxville i was sick and confined to the house, under the kind care of mrs. craig's family. our company of maryland artillery, after a time, had been ordered away to cumberland gap, where they were to manage, if necessary, one or two old iron cannon that had been secured somewhere for them. part of the refugees were left at knoxville as part of the guard at parson brownlow's house. for this duty those were selected who had been sick, or who were thought to be "inefficient" for active field duty. i was among the number so detailed, because i certainly was the most "inefficient" rebel soldier you ever saw or read about. it will be remembered that in the opening chapter, while i was in washington before the war began, i was accidentally, or, perhaps, providentially, introduced to senator andy johnson through one of senator wigfall's comanche indian breaks in the senate. i flatter myself that the evidence i gave _then_--before mr. lincoln was inaugurated--shows that the great conspiracy was going on while the conspirators themselves were yet in the service of the government, and under oath to support the same--therefore it was a "conspiracy." this acquaintance with mr. johnson was recalled one day while in east tennessee. mr. craig said something one day about some letters that mr. johnson was charged with having written to some abolitionist in boston, proposing, or, in some way that i do not exactly recall, admitting that, for a certain large sum of money, he (johnson) would use his influence in favor of the union. if mr. craig had any opinion as to the truth or falsity of the matter, he was careful not to let me learn it. at the first opportunity, in order to get an opinion from a man who was not at all slow in furnishing that cheap article, in season and out of season, i interviewed mr. brownlow about the johnson bribery to bring him out. it brought the parson out, and for a moment or two the air was thick with such elegant epithets as, "hell-deserving scoundrels, white-livered villains," etc. "i've not been on speaking terms with johnson for thirty years, but i know it's a lie." he was cautioned by his wife not to give expression to his views so freely. when i reminded them that the matter was public talk, and even printed throughout the south, the old fellow broke out in a new place: "oh yes, i know the postmaster at knoxville delivered the letters addressed to johnson to a certain party here who is known to be in the employ of wigfall of texas." that was enough for me. i was prepared to believe that wigfall and his crowd would stoop to forgery, or anything else, to do a southern union man an injury. wigfall was especially vindictive towards johnson, as will be remembered. if brownlow had not been talking in the same strain to everybody about his union sentiments, even while he was a prisoner, i should have felt from his free, outspoken manner toward me, every time i met him, that, by some instinct, he knew of my true character as a union spy who was about to return north, and would carry his messages home. i have often thought that mr. brownlow did divine my true character. in this forged letter matter, if i am not greatly mistaken, mr. brownlow connected one of the present senators from tennessee, who was then governor of the state. the parson, in his odd way, had a name for everybody: governor isham harris, was eye-sham harris. everytime i have looked at senator harris since he has been in washington, and i have seen him almost daily, i have had this queer expression brought to my mind. rebel troops were being concentrated at knoxville by railroad, to be marched thence to cumberland and other gaps in the mountains. something was up. those who were on the kentucky side about this time will know more about what caused the commotion than i who was on the inside and could only "guess," as the yankees say. the general in command of the forces in east tennessee at the time was e. kirby smith. he was, i believe, a distant relative of mine. our brigadier, and immediate commander, was general ledbetter, a native of maine, one of the meanest, most tyrannical and brutal men i have ever heard of, in either the rebel or the union armies, or any place else. he had been an officer in the regular army before the war; and, as parson brownlow put it, "he had married a lot of niggers in the south." the parson made this observation in the presence of his wife and the lady visitors who had accompanied me to the house one afternoon; though i did not exactly understand the drift of the expression at the time, i refrained from pressing the conversation just then. i learned afterward that he simply meant that captain ledbetter had married an alabama lady, who owned sixteen slaves. this general ledbetter, from the state of maine, was the willing tool selected by the rebel officials to punish and abuse the unionists--very much as wirz was permitted to do at andersonville. if i write harshly of this officer it will be accepted as an excuse from me to explain that i saw him do a great many mean acts, but that which turned my stomach worst were his roughly-spoken words to an old unionist bridge-burner, a man with bushy, grey hair, who was at the time shrinking and cowering in a corner, looking at me with his frightened eyes like a crazy man at bay. his distress was being caused by the dreadful shrieks of his son, at that moment on the scaffold, to which the old father was led in a few moments. "get up here, you damned old traitor," while he deliberately tied the rope around the trembling old man's neck. [illustration: "get up here, you damned old traitor."] it was a horrible, horrible sight--one that i shall never cease to remember. i wish it were possible for me to efface it from my memory. after the delightful evening at the craig's, part of which i have tried to describe here, because there was a short, sweet interview at the garden gate after most of the guests had retired, in which the readers are not at all interested, i went to bed, determined in my own mind that in the morning i should make the final break for home. i do not remember now whether i dreamed of the girl i was to leave behind me there, or that my visions were of "home, sweet home." of course, it was cruel to be obliged to tear myself away from them so ruthlessly, just when it was becoming interesting, but i consoled myself with the reflection that i had survived these heart-troubles before--several times. in the first place i had deliberately separated from my really and truly girl at my own home, when i joined patterson's army in pennsylvania, but i had succeeded in finding another, in dark-eyed capitola, at richmond, who in turn had been almost forgotten, in the new-found treasure at knoxville, from whom i was now to be estranged by the fortunes of war--perhaps forever. it was now time to return to the first love again; and that's the way it was "evolved" with me right along. i always managed to have a girl, to keep me from attending to business, and to get me into trouble, whether i was in the rebel or union armies, or lines. i was being "recuperated" so pleasantly, that i enjoyed playing off sick after i felt strong and active enough to have undertaken to walk right through tennessee and kentucky to my home. the greater part of our company being at cumberland gap, captain latrobe was somewhere near knoxville with general ledbetter. i can not definitely recall exactly how it was--only that in order to reach him, to report for duty, it was necessary for me to go out of town some distance, where i found him in a camp at ledbetter's headquarters. i was a little out of favor with the captain about this time. his greeting was not calculated to make me feel exactly comfortable. "you are never on hand when wanted, but eternally scouting around some private houses, sick." when i told him that i was now ready and anxious to join the company at the gap, he took my breath away by saying: "you will be no use there." then, as if remembering something that he had forgotten, he put his hand in his pocket, drawing out a package of letters, and as he fumbled them over, said: "lieutenant claiborne writes me something hereabout wanting you to go back to richmond." luckily for me, he wasn't able to put his hand on the right letter at that moment, which gave me a little time to gather myself up, which i did with an ease that astonished myself afterward when i had a chance to laugh in my sleeve, as i thought to myself how perfectly natural it was becoming for me to tell a lie on so short notice. i said at once in reply, as if by inspiration: "oh, captain, that's probably those fellows i owe some money to, who want to get me into trouble." he seemed to be satisfied with this explanation, and to my great relief, he put away the letters. just what the letters from richmond had to say about me i am unable to say, because i did not press the inquiry at that time. i left the captain soon after the conversation (some twenty-five years ago) and have not had the pleasure of meeting him since. i had very decided impressions on the subject at that time, however, which were to the startling effect that some of those texas fellows, whom i had run against in their camp near richmond, not satisfied with my bluff reception of their overtures, had been hunting me up at our old camp. either that, or lieutenant claiborne had met with the texas doctor at capitola's, where my double character would most likely have been discussed among them. in this one particular i should have preferred that capitola had so far forgotten me as not to have mentioned my name again. you may imagine how eager i was for the opportunity to change the subject with the captain, which seemed to present itself with my remark to him. he replied in what was intended to be rather a severe lecture on what he termed my "fast and loose" way of carrying things on. i took his medicine quite meekly, and talked back only in a tone of sorrow and humiliation, taking good care to get in all sorts of rash promises to do better service for maryland and the confederacy, if he would only give me a chance by allowing me to go to the front. he was disposed to be skeptical, and i write down here captain latrobe's exact words, spoken to me that morning in answer to my earnest appeal to be permitted to join the company at the gap: "well, wilmore, you are no use here, and i don't believe you will be up there, but i'll see what i can do with you." he turned to leave, directing that i should "hold on here a while," as he limped off toward general ledbetter's headquarters. i felt sure that he had gone there to consult with his superior officer about some disposition of myself; and i strongly suspected that the hinted-at requisition for me from richmond had come through the military channels. perhaps the reader may be able to imagine my thoughts and fears, or share my feelings for the few moments that i sat on the edge of the porch of the old log house that morning, waiting for the verdict, as it were. i rather incline to the belief though, that it is only those who have been under a sentence of death, or who are awaiting the result of a last appeal for a pardon, who will be competent to sympathize with me, or one who has been in such a plight. i was a long way from home, all alone--in a strange, i might say, a foreign land--among enemies; at liberty, but really with a rope around my neck; a single misstep, or word, a chance recognition, was all that was needed to spring the trap, and my career was ended ingloriously right there. i was filled, too, on this bright and beautiful morning with the bright hope and prospect of soon getting home; in fact, i was starting out homeward bound at this time; my reaching there depended in one sense upon the will of this captain, who could have put me in arrest and confinement and, at least, have delayed my chances, or he could give me the orders, that would admit of my easy escape. the moments seemed like hours until the captain made his appearance at the log-cabin door, where he stood for a few moments talking to an officer on general ledbetter's staff. i felt sure that i was the subject of their conversation, but like most persons who feel this way when their consciences trouble them, i was mistaken. coming up to me, the captain said, in a cheerful tone, as compared with the first remark to me: "corporal, could you find the gap, if we--" so eager and thankful was i, i abruptly interrupted him to say: "oh yes, i can easily do that." "well, it's forty miles from here, over a most god-forsaken mountain path." i replied that i was used to the mountains and would easily find the place. "we want to send some papers up there for signatures. i am here at headquarters to-day to get our muster roll fixed up, and find that i have to send them back again. we were going to get a couple of the natives to do the traveling, but, if you think you can get there, we will get you a horse and start you off right away." the captain's companion, the staff officer, seemed to be satisfied with my ability to undertake the journey, while the captain himself was rather pleased to see me show some enthusiasm, or a disposition to "do something," as he put it. he didn't understand the motive at the time, but i reckon he appreciated the feeling a little later on. so it was arranged, to my great delight, that i should start at once, as the roll of papers had been waiting for a chance messenger. the staff officer went to see some one in the rear about a horse. i was invited to follow them into the stable. a reliable old mountain climber was pointed out as the best thing for the trip. the details of the mount was left to the stable boss and myself. he told me she was used as a pack horse, for the staff officers: admitted that she might be old, but insisted that the climber was reliable. i wasn't very particular--anything for a horse, a kingdom, or two kingdoms, so it would "tote" me up the mountain. i would have saddled up right away, but the old farmer insisted on feeding, while we hunted around for a saddle and other tools. a bag was filled with oats, a haversack stuffed with one day's rations for me, and i was ready to charge on the yankees. indeed, the old nag was choked off on her feed, so eager was i to get away. i got aboard at the stable door, found the old saddle-stirrups a mile too long for my short legs, and while the old fellow adjusted them, he laughingly said: "why, you go on jist like a boy." i was a boy, and i was going home; but i was old enough to prevent older heads from finding out just how old i was. i rode around to the front, dismounted gayly, and reported to the captain that i was ready. then began another trouble. i received more "orders" and "directions" in the next half hour than my wild head could contain, which resulted in my going off at last without explicit directions as to the route i was to take. the captain gave me some letters for lieutenant elkton, who was in command of our detachment at the gap, which he said i was to deliver personally. i assented cheerfully to all the instructions, but when i had gotten off some time, and had cooled down a little, and had time to reflect, i concluded that i had better not be in a hurry to deliver that letter to our commanding officer. i "preserved" it carefully, however, so that it will be made public here for the first time. in addition to the numerous specifications that may be charged against me, i added that of robbing the confederate mail. as i look back over this mountain path, as it appeared to me then and remains in my memory, i wonder how it is that i ever got through with the journey alone so easily and safely. i am not going to attempt a description of the wonderful mountain scenery of east tennessee. that has been done so well and so often that any who may read this will have seen the well-written accounts which appear in the magazines every now and then, or, perhaps, more elaborately done in numerous war stories, as well as in the later writings of charles egbert craddock and frances hodgson burnett. besides, every man of the western armies has hoofed it over the same old road i traveled that day, carrying with him a goodly assortment of family groceries and "forty rounds," so that the impression on their minds will last as long as life remains, being as indelibly fixed as the everlasting hills themselves. i can see nothing but the great mountains, on each side of an awfully rocky road, that seemed to me then to have been simply the dried-out beds of some streams that had refused to run to supply the rebels with water. on every side of me, as i traveled along over these mountain roads, was the dense growth of interminable laurel thickets. the country is, of course, somewhat diversified in mountain and plain, but the general impression left with me is, that it was so much more mountain than plain that there was hardly enough plain for a wagon-road. after i had gotten some distance away, and was driving ahead as fast as the old horse would navigate over the rocky road, houses and farms began to grow smaller and beautifully less each mile. every now and then we would plunge into a clearing, and find somewhere in a field of stumps a house--one of the small farmhouses where the roofs extend down and out over the front far enough to make a covering for a porch. on this porch one could almost always see some pumpkins rolled up in a corner, a saddle would be astride of the rough porch railing, a few dried provisions hung in the roof rafters overhead; one could always expect to find the lady of the house standing in the front door as he passed, and she was generally broad enough to fill the narrow space, so that only one or two heads would have room to peep out beside her, like young chickens under the old hen's wings. i generally hunted the well at almost every house we came to, when i took great cooling drinks of water from a gourd dipper. these were the houses of the east tennessee mountaineers. to describe one will answer for all. at the time of my travel among them, most of the men folks were away from home, either hiding among the rocks and gorges of the mountains from their persecutors, or, perhaps, having crossed the mountain, where they joined the union army, hoping soon to return to their homes as soldiers of the government. there were six of these refugee tennessee regiments as early as -' in this part of the state, composed entirely of genuine, _bona fide_, unionist refugees. i would like to record a comparison here with the refugees from maryland in the confederate army at this time, both as to number and character. i had left headquarters so late in the day that it was too much for me to make the gap the same night with that horse, over these roads. when i started out, though, i intended to do this or burst; but on toward evening, after several hours of rough riding, i began to find the road getting so blind, and the houses were becoming so scarce, that i feared getting lost in the mountain if night should overtake me beyond the settlement. so, early in the evening, when i reached the ford or crossing of a stream, the name of which i cannot now recall, i pulled up in front of a large house--for that country--and asked for a night's shelter. my impression is that this was a sort of stopping place or the last relay house on the southern side of the gap. i found accommodation for both man and beast, and enjoyed a pleasant evening with the two old people on their front porch. i took it for granted that they were unionists, though they had little to say on that subject, but they both were so well pleased with my way of talking, and of the encouraging news for a rebel soldier to bring, that i think the old woman exerted herself to make the biscuit extra light, as she put enough salaratus in them to color the whole batch of them with yellow spots. i was put to sleep in an attic room, and very early the next morning i was awake and dressed for the last ride. the old man had taken good care of the old horse during the night, feeding her on fodder, i reckon. when i got out from breakfast i found her tied to a tree down by the water. i mounted gayly. the old fellow gave me explicit directions as to the road to the gap, which, he said, was in sight from the top of the hills. i bade him "good-by," promising to pay the bill on my return. i hadn't a cent of money--besides, it was customary for the soldiers to live off the unionists--so the old man was not much disappointed at not getting a fee, but i shall feel as if i owe them a dollar with interest for twenty-five years. i believe i rather rushed the old hoss for awhile that morning, because i was feeling so good over the prospect of getting away at last. sure enough, i could see the gap through a break in the trees and brush from the next hill-top, as the old man had said. i was surprised because it was so close to me, and disappointed in its appearance, as i had expected, from all that i had heard and read of cumberland gap, to find a great gorge breaking abruptly through the mountains. on the southern, or more strictly speaking, the eastern side of the approach to cumberland gap, the ascent up the mountain is so gradual that one is disappointed until the summit or highest point is reached, from which a view is to be had down into kentucky. it is then, only, that the grand beauty of the historic old place is realized. as i rode closer i met signs of military occupation--there were a lot of horses down the road at a black-smith shop waiting to be shod--a couple of soldiers in gray had them in charge; further on was a farmhouse, on the porch of which two officers in loose uniforms were sitting smoking pipes. i forged ahead, without being stopped by anybody, or stopping of my own accord until i was almost up to the very entrance to the gap itself, when i met with a careless sort of challenge, given by a soldier, or officer without arms. it was only necessary to offer my papers and explain my business, to be told to go ahead, with directions as to where i should find our battery. i found our fellows were in a camp--or cabins--some little distance inside of the real gap; on that side there seems to be two gaps, or, more plainly speaking, it seemed to me from a distance as a double gap, neither of which seemed very deep; indeed, the top of the mountain peaks on each side of the road that curved around between the two highest points did not strike me then as deserving the great name and celebrity they had obtained. when i found the lieutenant and delivered my papers to him, i received from the boys something of that greeting which is always accorded to a visitor who brings a pay roll or any papers or mail. lanyard was there, the sailor recruit from norfolk, as was also my old richmond friend, the colonel; we three had some hearty hand-shaking and cordial greetings. the colonel, who was really the sergeant, could not spare the time from some duty to accompany me, but lanyard escorted me over to the real gap, and it was there, as i stood on the crest of that great mountain top and looked down, down into the tree-tops of a great forest, far below and stretching away in the distance as far as i could see, that i realized what cumberland gap was. i could see threading along through the mass of trees that looked like mere bushes, so far down were they, a winding cord that resembled to my mind then a kite-string that had dropped down from above. this was the long, narrow and crooked road which led to the union forces, which i knew were somewhere pretty close. we were looking over into kentucky and into the union. i don't think i spoke much. i know that when such a scene is presented to me for the first time, i am struck dumb, as it were, and not able to rave over it, as i have so often heard others do, and have envied them. to my first question, as to the location of the yankees, lanyard pointing to a clump of trees forming a little grove, seemingly isolated from the rest and a little to one side of the road, said: "that's where they were in force when they made that attack on the gap here." then we walked over to a stockade made of the trunks of saplings put on end in ditches, reaching up ten feet, behind which our maryland boys were located. they had two guns then, and i was shown the marks of bullets of the yankees, which were in the new wood of the stockade. those who were on guard had a good deal to say of these wonderful guns of the yankees that could imbed such a large long ball so deeply in the hard wood of the stockade. our battery had actually enjoyed the glory of putting a couple dozen of shots over into kentucky somewhere. the bold refugees from ireland imagined that they had done some wonderful execution by these few shots, but, upon investigation a few days later, i found that our troops were so close to the guns at the time, that the shots passed not only over them, but landed a long distance beyond, where they probably fell among the tree-tops and only scared the owls. if this attack of our troops had been made after my report of the weak condition of the defenses of the rebels, it might have resulted in an early capture of cumberland gap. i lingered a long time in the gap, at such points as admitted of my seeing out into kentucky. i kept my eager longing eyes strained over that vista, hoping i might see the stars and stripes floating defiantly above the tree-tops. so eager was i to learn about the land of hope and of home, that lay stretched out before me, that i quickly gathered from these soldiers who were about me all the information they had about the land that lay beyond. my curiosity was pardonable at the time, because they supposed i was green and had never seen the yankee country before. they were also quite anxious to tell all they knew, and more too. i gathered enough information in a very short time to satisfy me, first, that there were no rebel pickets stationed beyond the gap, though some predatory horsemen belonging to the artillery, and mounted on anything they could get, were in the habit of scouting out the roads occasionally for forage; secondly, the yankees were in force within a few miles of me. i was told that their cavalry frequently came almost to the foot of the mountain below. this was enough. i should not allow another sun to set or rise on me before i had put myself under the protection of the old flag. i sat alone on a log, on the side of the hill, for a long time. i recalled that awfully hot july day that my companion and myself had sat out together on a log in like manner on a hill-side, very like this one, at harper's ferry, that other great hole in the mountains near my home, and how we both escaped inside the lines in the evening. my experiences in the rebel lines during the months that followed passed before me rapidly. i was willing to risk a good deal to get away without the formality of a "good-by" to the boys whom i had just met and left at the camp a little to the rear. i remarked to the sentry who was on guard nearest me: "is there any danger of being caught if i go down the hill to that house (pointing to one right below); i want to get something good to eat." "oh, no," he said, "our fellows go down there all the time." he was a very obliging sentry. if he had orders at all, they were probably to allow no one to pass in; so, with a heart throbbing with suppressed excitement, i looked around. it was close on to evening, about supper time in the rebel camps. lanyard had returned to the performance of some duty. no one was near except the good-natured sentry. i leisurely stepped beyond "bounds," and, with a parting injunction to the soldier not to shoot when he saw me coming up, i stepped off down grade at a lively gait, and was soon winding down the horse-shoe curved road, which led me either to home or heaven, liberty or death. before reaching the foot of the winding road, that led on past the little house standing some distance below, i stopped a moment--only a moment--to plan. in those days my mind was soon made up, and, once i had decided a matter, i was always prepared to act upon it the same moment. i concluded not to go to the house--that i must avoid leaving any trail by which i might be traced. to accomplish this, it was necessary that i leave the road and clamber up the steep side-hill embankment, which was full of brush and thickets; by so doing it would lead me into a wood to the side of the house. it was probably another of my mistakes to have left the road and climbed that hill to get into the wood. i saw at the foot of the mountain below me the little old house by the roadside, which reminded me, both by its similarity in appearance and location of the old shanty near manassas, where i had experienced so much annoying trouble from the quizzical and curious old bushwhacker proprietor, after my failure to get through the lines to washington that night in august, . it must have been about supper time when i had gotten pretty close to the house that day, because the curling, blueish smoke from a freshly-made wood fire was just then beginning to pour from the top of the big rough-stone and mud chimney, which was, as usual, hung on to the end of the cabin as a sort of annex. the sentry i had so recently left at the top of the mountain had said that "our men" were in the habit of going down to the house, but, with the vision before me of former experience in such a mixed crowd in a shanty in virginia, i quickly enough decided to apply some strategy and to flank the obstacle. it's a simple matter to plan things and to apply strategy to the proposed movements. by the time i had climbed up that perpendicular cliff to the side of the road, through a thicket of last year's blackberry bushes, that were apparently growing out of a stone quarry, i was so done out that i had to sit down on the ground awhile to get my second wind. i had expended sufficient strength and nerve in making that climb to have carried me miles past the house, if i had only made the dash on the straight road. from my seat on the rocks among the bushes, which was elevated considerably above the winding road down the mountain, i could see by the refracted sunset, in that clear atmosphere, a long way ahead of me. there seemed to be a thick, almost dense growth of timber, which was still below me, so that i looked only over the tops of the trees, as one views the chimney-tops of a city from a hill. i knew that somewhere in that general direction were the union forces, which had recently attacked the rebels at the gap. i could only imagine that their outposts of cavalry were within--say a few miles at furthest. the house that i was working so hard to avoid was yet, seemingly, as close as it had been before i had quit the road. but from my isolated position i could see only the top of it. the road had become lost under the tree-tops. looking back, i could see nothing but the stockades at the top of the gap, and these i could only locate in the fast gathering twilight, because i knew their exact position. there were no signs of life behind me--nor before me--except that the smoke kept curling straight upward from the chimney-top, until it formed in appearance a water-spout in the evening sky. up to that time, i might have safely returned to the rebel camps, or, if i had been halted and arrested, it would not have been a difficult matter to have accounted for my being out of bounds at the time. but i had no intention of returning. i had started for home, and i was willing to risk everything to get there. i knew very well at that moment i had deliberately added to my peril, in a blind fearless sort of a way, that causes me a shudder as i write it down here to-day. if i had been caught, i would have been liable to summary execution, on the simple charge of deserting to the enemy, and, of course, any delay in the execution of this sentence must have resulted only in my character as a spy being discovered by the investigation which must follow. while thinking over these things, for the moments i sat on that mountain-side that evening, i recalled my similar experience while trying to get out of beauregard's army in virginia. i planned a plausible excuse to offer, in case i should accidentally run into anything hostile, when it suddenly occurred to me that the "official papers" about the strength of beauregard's army in august, , which i had gotten out of the telegraph office and had endeavored to smuggle through, were the cause of my greatest danger that time, and i had resolved then that i should never again be caught with any papers in my possession. following my thoughts with the movements of my hands into my pockets, to strip myself of papers, and be prepared for a dash for liberty, i hauled out the letter which the captain had handed to me with specific instructions to deliver to the lieutenant. i destroyed it with a good deal of energy, after having first nervously opened and read it. by that one simple act, i had cut down the last bridge behind me. but you will not be surprised at my rash conduct, in thus robbing the confederate mail, when i give you the substance of the letter, as nearly as i can recollect, and, by the way, a lifetime--a long and checkered lifetime--will not serve to efface from the memory the recollections of such days and nights as this in one's experience. "headquarters, near knoxville. "lieutenant commanding "detachment maryland artillery, _cumberland gap:_ "i send you by ---- the muster rolls, etc. * * * * * "it was the intention to go myself, but we have some prospect of a move in another direction, and i will wait here for further orders. we have borrowed this horse from the staff, so that these papers can be fixed up and returned by ----, so they can be returned to richmond. * * * * * "i have a letter from richmond asking about the antecedents of ----, and the purpose of sending him up is, that you and the "colonel" (the sergeant), who brought him in, can answer. "my information is, that he is wanted at richmond for something. i'm waiting to hear through the secretary of war." "(signed.)" this was enough for me. i was not going back now; in fact, i'd rather be shot in trying to escape in kentucky than to be deliberately hung in tennessee. those who have read my story will not censure me for opening that letter and neglecting to deliver it personally. probably the rattle-snakes that crawled out of their holes among the rocks in that hill-side, when the weather became warmer, were astonished at the fragments of that official correspondence lying around there so loosely; may be the crumpled and torn papers became the basis of some nests. i only know that it was not delivered--not much. [illustration: cumberland gap--this was enough for me.] this accounted for the captain's curious questions the day i left him. i saw it all. i got up on my feet suddenly and buckled on my armor, as it were, and prepared to fly. it was getting a little late in the evening for a walk out alone in that country, but i had considerable of a motive behind me, and something of an inducement in front. indeed, i felt, for the time being, that i could almost fly as a bird, so eager was i to get there. in starting off so suddenly, i neglected to properly take my bearings, so plunged down, recklessly, over the rocks and through the bushes, only knowing that i was going in the general direction which led me the furthest away from the rebel camps that i had left up on top of the hill. i kept going, going blindly, i thought straight ahead, but making little progress. i wasn't the least bit tired then. while sitting down to read that letter i had rested wonderfully in a short time. it was only when i climbed down off the big hill or mountain, and had plunged, like a scared deer, into the dense growth of woods, that was at the foot of the mountain, that i was stopped, almost abruptly by the sudden appearance of darkness, which seemed to have dropped around me like a curtain. the curtain wasn't pinned with a star, because i couldn't see the evening star on the horizon on account of the trees, that were as thick here as the blackberry bushes had been up on top of the mountain. i could only see the sky by looking straight up. i don't know that i looked up either; in fact, i don't believe i did. my recollection is that i was only concerned about where to put my feet, and, as a consequence, i was obliged to look down pretty much all the time pretty sharply. i should have appreciated just then, more than anything else, "a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path." it took me a little while to "get used to it," as they say when one plunges suddenly into darkness. i have read very nice poetry about the "pathless groves," and the "pleasure in the pathless woods where none intrude," and all that sort or thing about the grandeur, and majesty, and silence of the woods at night, but i did not relish this dreadful silence and majesty that night, and, to tell the truth, i've never learned to appreciate the same grandeur since. i like well enough to be in the woods at night, if i am one of a camp at any army corps headquarters, and , soldiers are looking out for the rebels that may be prowling through the majestic woods, but, alone, i don't like it a bit. i was alone in a deep, dark wood, somewhere between the outposts of the two armies, in the neighborhood of cumberland gap. everything around me had become obscured by the thick darkness, that one can almost feel on a dark night. i kept going, as i supposed, straight ahead, clambering over fallen logs, stretching out my hands before me as i stepped cautiously ahead to guard against a too sudden contact with the trunks of trees, stumbling over exposed roots, or becoming entangled in undergrowth. this was the tiresome, dreadfully tiresome and discouraging path that i trod that night, for hour after hour, in my efforts to get home. almost exhausted, i began to grow impatient at not meeting with any encouraging outlook. i felt that i had had enough of this and was entitled to a change. i was sure that i had traveled over sufficient ground to have brought me, at least, a couple of miles nearer the union lines. but i did not then take into consideration the fact that i had been going blindly, and had been merely stumbling and crawling around in a circle, as i have heard all persons do who become lost in the woods. i realized with a shudder of horror that i was lost--lost, and lost forever--in that dark wood nearest the enemy; because i knew very well, from the observations of the country that i had made from the mountain top, that i should have come out on to the road that led on toward the union line of pickets long before, if i had kept the course that i had so carefully laid out before dark. what did i do? i sat down on a big log and cried like a big baby; and that's what you would have done. i wasn't so badly scared as i was demoralized, tired out, and discouraged. after i had sat long enough to have somewhat recovered myself, i remembered all that i had ever read or heard of persons who were lost in the woods. i recalled that when only a boy, in my mountain home, i had connected myself voluntarily with a party of kind-hearted mountaineers who had joined in a body to search those mountain fastnesses for two little children of six and eight years old, who had strayed from their home a day or so previously, and were lost in the woods. my two days and nights' experience in that searching party became of great service to me now. i first attempted to ascertain in the darkness, by feeling with my hands, which side of the trunks of the standing trees the moss was growing on. i knew that if i could establish for a certainty this fact, from several of the trees, i would, from this circumstance, have been able to locate the points of the compass, but it failed me, because of the utter darkness of the night and the absence of such a trifling thing as a match, with which to make a glimmer of light in that overpowering gloom. matches are cheap enough, but, if i had had the money then, i would have been willing to have given as much cash for the little stick of wood, with a light on the end of it, as would have bought all the logs contained in that forest of lumber. there was another sign that has never failed the lost and the distressed, from wherever looked up to, when the sky was not clouded--the north star. while a lad at school i had been taught how to find this, the only true and fixed star, and that night, while lost and in such dire distress in that dark woods, along side of the enemy, who had, by this time, surely learned of my escape, i looked up through scalding tears for the dipper and the pointer, and through the leafy branches of a high, old oak tree, the bright, twinkling, constant and true little north star was looking down brightly upon me as i sat there on the old log. what a bright, beautiful, hopeful little emblem it was to me then, and how often have i recalled this night, when i look up still and find it always the same friend. i felt as much relief at the discovery of the north star as if i had found a lost trail in the sky. i felt that somehow i should be able, from this fact, to come out all right, though i was sorely puzzled to discover that, in appearance, the star seemed to be almost over the top of the mountain that i was so anxious to get away from. i did not then understand, as i since learned, that the range of mountains is nearly north and south. "i passed a miserable night, so full of ugly sights, of ghastly thoughts, that, as i am a christian, faithful man, i would not spend another such a night, though 'twere to buy a world of happy days." this quotation expresses in the familiar lines my experience more satisfactorily than i could attempt in a column a description of this one night of holy terror. it's bad enough to be lost under any circumstances, but at night, between two lines in a deep, dark forest, with the certainty of an ignominious death pursuing me as a phantom, almost mocking me through the screeching, hooting owls, whose diabolical laughter at my distress, in having failed to reach the goal that was in sight before dark were audible above the tree-tops. as i have so often said before, there is only one way to properly understand the feelings under such conditions, and that is, "put yourself in his place." this can only be done, and that but feebly, in the imagination now, because there probably never will be just such another "dark path to glory" in that part of the country. if i could only have kept moving in any direction, it would have been something of a relief, but i couldn't stir without stumbling over old roots of fallen trees. i didn't mind that so much, but everything was so awfully quiet and solemn that it seemed as if, every step i made, my feet would crash into the little twigs that made so much noise that i became startled every time, lest my every movement would be heard for miles distant. so the only thing for me to do was to sit down on an old rotten log, that i had at last stumbled on, and wait for more light. the wild, scared thoughts and weird, horrible sounds that went through my head while i sat on that log in that dark woods that long, long night, can never be described. there were owls, bats, and other solemn birds of the night, sitting on the adjacent trees, hooting in chorus, and flying past a crazy-looking, wild boy of the woods, sitting like a knot on a log, wild-eyed, and with frantic gestures that would become a person with an attack of mania, who attempts blindly to protect and defend himself from imaginary enemies that would fly uncomfortably close. i didn't see any big game. i didn't want to see any. i was not hunting; but i imagined there was a whole menagerie of such things around me. we hear a great deal about the silence and the majestic grandeur of the forest, but that's all poetry. there are more noises--and the most horrible noises--when alone, to be heard in a deep wood on a still, quiet night than ever i heard in the streets of any city at midnight. it was these sounds that stirred the blood in my veins and kept the cold chills running down my back, so that i sat there and shook like one with an attack of ague. when i could stand it no longer, and found it impossible to move in either direction, i climbed a tree. in getting up a pretty good-sized tree, i felt that i was out of the world and away from the danger of crawling and creeping things, though the owls became more curious and inquisitive than ever. that wood was full of owls. i was more afraid of them that night than of panthers--or rebels either. once up in the tree, i was kept busily employed with the necessity for constantly changing my position. i couldn't get "fixed" comfortably on any limb or crotch in that old tree, and i verily believe that i "adapted myself" to every position that it afforded. from my elevated position in the top branch of the tree i could look out through the tops of adjoining trees. it was before the season for the leaves to be thick in that section. in one direction, i discovered what i had at first taken for a heavy cloud on the horizon were the outlines of the mountain. there were no signs, from my outlook, of the house and road i had seen last before coming into the woods. there was nothing whatever to serve as a guide, except the little north star. i could only wait for daylight, which must soon come. it seemed as if i had been ages in the woods. i looked eagerly for the breaking of the gray dawn, but i had been straining my eyes in the wrong direction, expecting in my dazed condition to see the first glimmer come from the western horizon. it was when i looked back of me, with a sigh of discouragement, that i first beheld the light of a coming dawn. "night's candles were burnt out, and jocund day stood tiptoe on the misty mountain top." in a moment i became renewed with the old life and fire of those boyish days. only stopping long enough to get a good view of the surrounding hills or mountains, i was able to discover that the gap, from whence i came, was, apparently, closer than when i had first taken to the woods in the early twilight. if i didn't know exactly where to go to find the union pickets, i saw quite plainly where _not_ to go, and knowing that i'd not make any mistake in getting further away from the gap, i crawled hastily out of the tree, and in another moment was hopping along through the woods, which were yet quite dark down on the ground. the uneasy night birds had flown. i heard a chicken crow, though it may have been a mile distant. i steered as clear of that signal of the proximity of a house as a sailor does of a fog-horn. as the light began to break through the tops of the trees, i was able to make better headway. the big mountain, that had cast a shadow over the world of woods all that night, loomed up grandly in the gray dawn; the gap stood out as clearly defined in its profile as if it had been cut out by a chisel. there was nothing stirring anywhere but me; all the noises had apparently gone to sleep, and i, recognizing by former experience that the early morning is the safest time to travel in an enemy's lines, was making the best use i could of the "limited time at my disposal" before the rebel officers would wake up and start their scouts out after me. without meeting with any obstructions, except the fallen logs and bushes, i must have traveled a mile, when i suddenly emerged from the woods on to a path, or mountain road, which led in the same direction i wished to go. i cautiously followed this until it led into another, a larger and apparently a more generally used wagon road, which i knew must be the main road leading up to the gap from kentucky. this, i knew, if followed up, would bring me into the union lines. but it would also be likely to be used by any rebel cavalrymen or scouts who might be sent out from the gap. not having any means of defense with me, in case i should be confronted by an armed scout, i would simply have been at his mercy and been led back to the gap, like a sheep with a rope about its neck. on this account, i was obliged to keep myself under cover of the woods, but, fearing to trust myself again in the deep woods too far, i scouted along the edge as near the road as i dared, keeping the open road in view all the time. in this way i moved along slowly enough, watching eagerly up and down the road for some signs of a picket in blue in one direction and a scout in gray in the other. soldiers seemed to be awfully scarce out there that morning. i thought i'd never get out of the woods, or find relief from the long strain on my nerves, my legs, and my stomach. not seeing anything in either direction for so long, i at last, to help myself along faster and with less difficulty, boldly came out to the road, and, with one good, long look behind me, started to walk ahead at a double-quick gait. i had not gone far when, stopping to listen, as was my habit on such occasions, i was startled to hear what i supposed were horses' feet behind me. in a moment i was in the woods at the side of the road, where my long jumps made such a noise in the dry undergrowth that i had to stop and lie down. i saw two gray coats coming up the road together, both of them on foot. dropping myself to the ground as suddenly as if shot, just where i stood, i lay for a few seconds in a tremor of fright, the only sound audible being my heart wildly beating. as the two men passed by me on the road, they were talking in a hurried way between themselves, and my presence was not discovered. i lifted my head far enough to look after them when they passed. i saw that they were none other than two men from our own rebel company of maryland artillery; but, worst of all, one of the two was lanyard, my old richmond mate and chum; the other was a fat, young german, who had been a baker in richmond. the first thought in my mind was that these two fellows had been sent out on the road after me. any person would have so surmised under like circumstances, and, like myself, would have been terror-stricken at the thought of being so close to them. it was not comforting, either, to know that they were now not only on my path, but they were ahead of me. what to do under the suddenly-changed condition of things was only a momentary puzzle. i argued to myself that they could not go very far ahead on that road without running into the union pickets, and that, if they were not captured by them, they would soon be coming back over that path. in either case, i should avoid the road, and endeavor once again to get through to the union lines through the woods only, while the daylight lasted. the thought that perhaps our forces had fallen back some distance, or that they might have wholly abandoned that part of the country, was not comforting. while i did not at first understand why lanyard, of all others, should be the person detailed to intercept me, i began to imagine that his notion was that i had innocently strayed off and been lost, and that his purpose was only to aid me in a friendly way, in my return to the rebel camp. while walking through the wood, some such thoughts as i have tried to describe were crowding each other through my now frenzied brain, when the current was suddenly changed by hearing the wild barking of dogs ahead, in the direction my pursuers had taken on the road. if there is one thing more than any other that a scout detests, while he is quietly pursuing his business, it's a barking dog. crawling carefully toward the sound, i could see some smoke above the trees, and a little beyond, on the opposite side of the road, a house. that was enough for me. i wanted some breakfast terribly just then, but i had no use for any more houses. what i wanted to see was a camp of soldiers with their tents and the stars and stripes floating over them. it took a long time to flank that insignificant little old house, and made my legs very tired, but i succeeded in accomplishing the task at last, and had the satisfaction of looking _back_ at it from a hill-top on the road, some distance inside, or beyond it. i saw then what surprised me no little. in the road and all about the front of the house that i had passed, were quite a crowd of men and some horses tied to the fences alongside. the men seemed to be armed, and they wore blue clothes. i wasn't exactly sure of this from the distance. i remembered my mistake in virginia in trusting too much to the blue clothes, and determined that this time i should be sure the wearer of the blue was a union soldier and not a disguised rebel. i hoped sincerely and prayed that i had passed a union outpost, and was at last within the united states. that they had not seen me was evident, from the indifferent and careless manner of the men. i judged, too, that the dogs had announced the approach of lanyard and the baker to the house, and that they were both detained there. i trudged ahead, hugging the road closely, meeting with no one in that lonely country, until so tired out and exhausted, after my night and now half of the day, that i was forced to sit down by the roadside to rest. i don't think i went to sleep, but must have dozed off, so completely exhausted had i become. i dreamed of my capture, the tramp of horses' feet, and heard the angry voices, which i had imagined belonged to a gang of rebels, who were dragging my helpless body to a good place for a hanging. in this nightmare in the broad daylight i was as helpless as if tied hand and foot, and could not utter a word, but blindly submitted to their brutal treatment, because too weak to resist. aroused by the approaching sound of persons' voices, before i could get to my feet two horsemen in blue, armed with carbines, their sabers rattling, were almost up to me. in front of the two cavalrymen walking along, not like captured prisoners, but gayly laughing and talking with the mounted men, were my two comrades in arms--lanyard and the baker. i lay perfectly stunned. i dare not, i could not, move for an instant, when they quickly came almost abreast of me, and i jumped up so suddenly as to scare the nearest horse, so that it shied against its companion. i spoke first, with the desperation of an outlaw challenging a helpless traveler: "are you union or confederate?" before he could answer my question, which had been put as pointedly as if demanding money or life, lanyard, with a shout of pleased surprise, came over to me, saying: "bully for us! we are all right, my old chum," and, turning to the cavalryman, who seemed to be getting ready for a combat or a conspiracy, he said: "this is my old chum that i was telling about," then turning to me, for i was not yet fully satisfied in my own mind--"why, in h--, didn't you tell me, so that we could come together?" then, after seeing that i was indeed o. k. at last, and, sure enough, under the guard of the troopers of the united states army, i was ready for an indian dance, even though i was so tired that my legs would scarcely carry me along. the youngest of the troopers was a handsome boy of about nineteen or twenty, who informed me that he was a kentuckian, and one of the company of kentucky cavalryman in the union army. i hope this young chap and his companion are living yet somewhere in the beautiful blue-grass region of kentucky, and that they may see this book, and will be kind enough to give me their present address. [illustration: "are you union or confederate?"] chapter xxiii. return home from cumberland gap--meeting with parson brownlow on his trip to washington. i knew by that particular instinct, born of a soldier's daily experience of months among his own kind, that the two cavalrymen i had seen coming up the road toward me were not from the army i had just left, or i should have kept quiet. probably it was because i remembered, at the first glance of them, that i had not seen any such looking troopers in the rebel army, either about the gap or in the interior country beyond, through which i had so recently traveled miles on horseback. after some "mutual explanations and introductions," with a general hand-shaking all around, wherein it was laughingly agreed among them that my jack shepard manner of jumping out of a bush to demand satisfaction was a good joke--on my part--as they supposed it, i "fell in" with lanyard and baker, and we marched on ahead of the two cavalrymen toward the union camp. though i was tired and well-nigh exhausted, i walked ahead so briskly and stepped out so joyously that i was almost keeping the horses on a trot to keep up with us. this fact elicited from the older of the kentucky cavalrymen an observation to his comrade that comprised about all the words that i remember to have heard him speak while in his company: "my h--, don't that fellow travel!" i am not prepared to say whether the renewed motive power was supplied through a fear of the rebels coming after us in force, or a wild desire to get to a place where the blue soldiers were to be seen in greater numbers. as we walked along together, lanyard gave me a minute and funny account of the manner in which my disappearance was accounted for by my late companions in arms at the gap. "well, by g--! i never thought you were a real yankee. why didn't you say something to me before? i was your best friend always, you sucker." then, with a loud laugh and a slap on my tired back that nearly knocked me off my feet, he made a break for the little, fat dutch baker. "say, baker, ain't you just playing off as a dutchman? come now; let's hear you talk plain united states. you are in a free country." the baker had suddenly dodged to the other side of the road when the hilarious lanyard readied his ponderous claws toward him, and only grinned back, in broad dutch, his reply to the suggestion. after a little more of this sort of sky-larking, as he called it, he cooled down sufficiently to talk in a more rational way, but kept on using, by way of emphasis, as parson brownlow would say, "good mouth-filling oaths, that would blister a sailor's lips." "why, blank it--i only shipped with this gang of pirates until we could reach some civilized port where i could get ashore amongst white people." lanyard was opposed to "d----d niggers," and had somehow become full of the contrary notion, that the south was fighting to retain the colored population, and the north wished to free them, merely that they could be sent, as he said, "back to africa, where they belong." "you were not missed from camp last night until it was time to turn in; the duffer that was on watch up on the volcano back there reported to his partner, who took his place, that you had said you were sick, and had gone down to the house below to get a hot supper, so he told him not to shoot at you when you came in to roost. "our old chum, the colonel, you know, he got excited because you didn't show up, so he had to turn us out to go down to the old house to fetch you in. i told him it was no use; that you would be too drunk to walk up the hill; but he made me take a mate out of our mess, and started us out after you. we couldn't get by the watchman. we told the blasted fool that we had to go down the hill to find you, but he kept fooling with his gun, and swore he'd sink us if we tried to run out of port. "pretty soon the racket and loud talk brought an officer and a whole gang of fellows on to us, and we were taken into the guard-house. we had to stay there half the night before any of our fellows came to help us out; then the colonel and elkton figured around and, by a lot of talking, they were allowed to take us back to our shanty to finish the rest of the night. "now i wanted to get out of that country and go to new york, terrible bad, but, by g--, i never would have thought of going down into that wood to find a path to new york. i was just going to wait until the yankees came up to fight us, and then i was going right out to join them in spite of h--; but i wanted to see them first. well, while we were in the guard-house that night, and our lieutenant was talking with the other officer about getting us out, i heard them say something about your 'being in the yankee camp before we started after you.' this set me thinking about your being there and me left in the rebel guard-house. "on the way back to our shanty, i asked the lieutenant if he thought you were captured by the yanks, and he said: "oh, no! he's got lost, and will turn up all right when it gets daylight." "but the lieutenant was in a damn bad humor about your going off, and kept talking to the sergeant about it being "queer" that you should come up from knoxville and go straight out into that country alone. the colonel was satisfied that you were lost, but the lieutenant said the officers up at the guard-house were sure you had gone straight to the yankee camp, as they were out on the road only a mile and you must have been among them before night. "the lieutenant talked to them as if it might be so, because you had been having a row with the captain again, and it was hard to tell what you had been doing last. that is about the way they kept talking about you. "i began to think, if the yankees were only a mile off, that i would like to go and see them, and not wait for them to come up and see us. so that night, after we got back to our quarters, i told the lieutenant i would start out at daybreak and hunt you up, my notion being that you had left for good and i wanted to join you. the duffer that was with me swore he would not go along with me down the hill, if the yankees were only a mile off. at this the dutchy wakened up from his sleep and bravely volunteered to go along with me." then lanyard with a contemptuous look, turned to baker and said: "say, dutchy, you blasted rascal, you played me for a marine, didn't you?" but getting only another broad smile from baker for a reply, he continued talking, much to the amusement of our guard of cavalrymen, his tongue and jaw keeping pace with our quick steps. "well, to make a long story short, i laid awake all the balance of the night in thinking it over. i got our old chum to fix up a plan with the officers to allow me to go out to hunt you up; and just as soon as i could bundle up a little, we made the break, and came straight down the road to that house. they told us you had not been there that night. after taking my bearings, we grabbed the anchor, set full sail, and ran out the road until these chaps hailed us back at the house there. "dutchy kept right along side of me; he wasn't a bit afraid of the yankees, he said, and wanted to go ahead." then with a look of assumed disgust at the baker for having so shrewdly deceived him by pretending bravery in meeting yankees, while his intention all the time was simply to conceal his real motive, which had been to escape, his tongue ran on with an amusing soliloquy, and, partly addressing himself to the cavalryman about 'the deceitful, lying, treacherous marines he--the guileless, innocent sailor boy--had been compelled to associate with for so long a time against his inclination.' this cavalry was part of an outpost who were stationed at this point on the road nearest the rebels, as is the usual custom; they were some miles in advance of the infantry or the headquarters, of the camp. we learned from our guard that their principal duty consisted in receiving and escorting to headquarters the scores of unionist refugees, who were constantly coming into their lines day and night, in an exhausted condition, through the passes of these mountains. most of these unionists were promptly enlisted into the tennessee regiments, then in camp with the union army. by this means was solved a difficult problem for the officers, as to their maintenance, when driven away from their homes. (the government was supposed to guarantee protection to them in their homes.) under this head, or in this classification, we were placed by the union officer with whom we first came in contact. some time ago, in looking over a volume of the published war records, by a mere accident i turned to a page referring to some operations about cumberland gap, and, because of its familiarity to me, i took the time to hunt up, as nearly as i could, some of the official records bearing on the time of my escape. on a certain page, which i could give herein, is an official report of the general officer in command of the union forces, announcing the arrival of "three men" who had escaped from the rebel army that date, and who had given him valuable information of the plans and the forces of the rebels in his front. as i have previously stated, i have no memory for dates, but my impression is that our information, at that time, was of service to general grant, who was then operating in the west, in this, that i had satisfied the general officer, from my account of the location of the rebel troops, their guns and earthworks in the gap, that it could not be captured by assault, by any reasonable force in front. in the words of longfellow, adapted to the occasion: "try not the pass, the young man said." and they didn't. the force that had been idly lying out there, where provisions and ammunition had to be hauled for miles upon miles over the miserable kentucky roads, soon after changed their base, and were placed where they could do the most good. it was late in the afternoon when we reached the camp of the union forces. i was tired--very tired, and most awfully hungry, too, when we got in sight of a real camp of soldiers, which was, in those days, laid out in regular form according to the books, in rows upon rows of tents in the woods; a neat clean parade ground, from the center of which rose a tall staff, on the very pinnacle of which was flying--old glory--the stars and stripes. there are moments in every soldier's life time that will never be effaced from the memory, and this was one that, in my heart to-day, is as bright and happy as it was twenty-five years ago. i can not describe my feelings; i will not attempt it. those who have tried to read my experiences for the months preceding will understand, but only feebly, how heartfelt was my gratitude in that supreme moment of my life. it was as if i had escaped an ignoble death, but, generally, my heart was filled with unselfish pride and pleasure at seeing floating up there, above the army, the flag that for months upon months i had heard decried until sometimes i begun to think that there was no one to defend it but me, and i was all alone among enemies, and must grin and bear the daily abuse in silence. i don't believe i spoke a word to anybody for an hour. near the flag were a few large tents standing by themselves, which were pointed out to us as the headquarters, where we were to be conducted as soon as we had washed off some of the dirt and dust. in front of these headquarter tents were seated three officers comfortably smoking pipes and chatting together pleasantly. we were transferred to an infantry guard, being still held as prisoners. after giving us plenty of time to put ourselves in as good shape as we could, and being kindly tendered all the aid they could give us, we were put between files of neatly uniformed soldiers. when i made some remark to one of them about going to unnecessary trouble about us, as we were only too glad to get there, and weren't going to leave them, he explained with a laugh, as he fixed his bayonet to the gun: "that's all right; we know that; but the 'old man' would kill us if we should march you fellows up there in anything but the regular military style." so, after putting us in about the shape that the recruit occupies at his muster into the g. a. r., a sprightly young officer of the guard, with sash and sword, gave the order to forward, and we were marched across the parade ground toward headquarters. as we passed almost under the flag, i looked up, and, without a thought that anyone would see me, i involuntarily took off my old rebel hat. our appearance was, of course, attracting very general attention in the camp, and, i presume, some of them witnessed the humble salute to the old flag, which was the more marked as i wore the gray clothes of a rebel and a traitor to the flag. to my surprise, the "old man," as the general was called, was quite an ordinary-looking little gentleman. it was general carter, of east tennessee. as i have since been advised, he had been a naval officer in the united states naval service for some years before the war. the guard, after properly presenting us, were dismissed; we were pleasantly invited to take seats on a log, and for an hour i did most of the talking, but that union officer only gathered from me my east tennessee experience, which was of immediate use to him; he was told nothing whatever of my former relations with washington and the secretary of war. there was a young fellow on the staff of the general who exerted himself in a very pleasant, easy way to make us comfortable. to him i was particularly indebted for some personal favors, that i have never had an opportunity of repaying, except at this late date to publicly acknowledge my obligation. there was not a dollar of any kind of money between the three of us, so we had need of friends then. in this camp i first saw a greenback, which was presented to me by this young officer. after the general was satisfied that he had pumped us all dry of information, he gave the necessary orders for our entertainment. we were taken in charge by a couple of jolly fellows of an indiana regiment, one of whom had been a river man, and had some acquaintance with that section of the ohio river, the headwaters of which i had started out from with andy johnson's train some months before. the "boys" gave us a hearty supper of _coffee_--real coffee. it is sufficient to say here that the boys of that indiana regiment were clever fellows; they treated us bang-up, as our fellows always did when a poor, hungry devil in gray strayed in to take supper with them. there were one or two exceptions, as there always is in every company, who run around to do the scavenger work. i was tired--i believe i have said so once before--and, as soon as possible, after the grub had been swallowed, i hunted a place to stretch myself out for a rest. i felt safe enough, and knew then that, for the first night in months, i could lie down to sleep in perfect security, not dreading or fearing what the next day would bring forth. one of those curs, that was always hanging around to make themselves noticed, seemed to have taken offense at what he supposed was an intentional slight or failure to recognize his importance; he was, i think, a first sergeant of a company--one of those fellows who have a grievance against everybody because he wasn't the colonel. i don't really remember what i could have said or done to have brought upon my defenseless head his vengeance; but it's my impression now that, in his positive, disagreeable way, he had been boastfully referring to the rebel soldiers in their front as being of no consequence--you all know how some fools talk about the enemy. it's barely possible that i had resented his estimate of the ability of the rebels i had just left. i had been among them a good while, and knew something of their character, and it was a weakness with me to attempt to defend them at such a time; but i reckon i was as big a fool as this fellow himself, and talked too much in an honest, candid way about the earnestness and patriotic zeal and enthusiasm, as well as the undoubted courage of the rebel soldiers. i reckon that i was so tired that i was cross-grained at the persistence of the fellow urging himself upon me. i was wakened from a sound sleep by a corporal with an armed guard, who said he had orders to put me in the guard-house. hardly realizing my position, in my dazed condition, i mechanically followed the corporal out into the cool, night air, which had the effect of awakening me fully to the changed conditions in my circumstances. it seemed so like a dream that i could scarcely realize that i was being escorted to a guard-house. the corporal kindly intimated to me that there were fears that i would get away. i could get no further satisfaction from him or the guard, except that the matter would be explained in the morning. the fact that a sentinel stood near me with a loaded musket did not at all interfere with my slumber; it rather had the effect of inducing more sound sleep, as i felt a certain personal security from the rebels as long as i was honored with a private protector of my own--while i slept. in the morning a good breakfast was sent me. lanyard called, but was not permitted to speak to me, and walked off swearing to himself. after guard-mounting, i was conducted to the general's tent, where i met the young staff officer, who, in the most brotherly manner, said: "mr. ----, the general was disposed to give you special consideration, because it seems that he had been impressed by your manner and your voluntary salute to our colors yesterday, that you were a born loyalist; but he is informed by captain ---- and some member of company --, indiana, that you were detected in giving expression to the most traitorous sentiments, and you declared your belief of the ultimate success of the rebels, which, you know, is not the way you talked to us yesterday." my manner and the expression of my face must have satisfied the young officer at once. really, i was too much taken aback to speak for a moment, but, when my tongue did get loosened, it gave expression to such violent language that the young officer laughed heartily at my earnestness. i denied most positively the use of any such words, and demanded the authority. the officer simply said: "well! the general said you were nobody's fool, and i didn't think you would have talked that way in our camp;" then, turning to an orderly, he directed him to bring to headquarters a certain person, whose name i am sorry i am unable to give. it was the blatant first sergeant who had forced himself upon me. when face to face with him, in the presence of the general and several other persons, i was able to so completely demolish his statements that his discomfiture was enjoyed by everybody around the camp. i was indignant, and i talked badly. i was apt to be that way then, and my tongue and gestures toward my _vis-a-vis_ created so much amusement i was allowed to indulge myself to the fullest extent. it was a mistake of mine. the sergeant went away humiliated and full of revengeful intent. i was released from arrest and joined lanyard in the camp. the affair had created something of a breeze, as every soldier in camp had heard of the arrest. while in a tent, surrounded by a crowd of boys who were congratulating me, an officer with a drawn sword rushed into the crowd and in an instant put the point of his sword against my breast, with a wild oath, as he grabbed for my throat, declaring he would kill me if i did not retract every word i said to the general about his first sergeant. [illustration: in an instant he put the point of his sword against my breast.] i have said that, in cases of sudden and dangerous emergency, i was always able to be cool, while i get terribly rattled in anticipation of imaginary danger. so it was that, in this case, i was the only cool one in the crowd. looking straight in the captain's eye, and wholly disregarding his sword, i said to him, calmly: "i am unarmed and a prisoner." at this, one of the men present, though only an enlisted man, attempted to interfere in my behalf, which only seemed to further enrage the officer, who turned from me to glare at the common soldier. in the mean time some one had run over to headquarters and told the general and staff that i had been killed by this officer. in a moment the young staff officer made his appearance on the scene, and my life was again saved. the explanation was, that the indiana captain was a brother-in-law of the first sergeant whom i had discomfited. i was politely requested to accompany the young staff officer to the general's tent where the matter was explained. i have seen military men awfully mad, but it was the first time i ever beheld a general get so angry that he turned as white as a dead man; why, he couldn't speak at all, but simply walked off; and those who had not seen his face would have been led to imagine that he was simply indifferent. i was invited to sit down near the headquarters' tent. in a very few moments--less than it takes to tell it here--that indiana captain's sword was taken from him, he was in arrest, in disgrace for having been guilty of one of the most cowardly unofficer-like acts that can be charged to a soldier--that of assaulting a defenseless prisoner. that afternoon, the colonel of the indiana regiment spent a couple of hours with the general, in attempting to palliate the captain's offense, but it was no use. i could not hear what they said, but could see that the little general kept shaking his head constantly in a savage negative, that indicated his feelings. this affair created such a stir in the camp that it was thought best to send us away at once. so, that evening, all three of us were marched under the same style of guard with fixed bayonets to the camp of an ohio regiment, located about a mile distant. in due time we reached lexington. here the officer transferred us to the charge of the sick soldiers. it so happened that, just before reaching the town of lexington, we had all stopped for a noon rest at a point near which was a fine, old-fashioned mansion house, belonging to a large farm. the house, as is the style of that country, was well supplied with verandas and porches. in the rear was quite a little village of whitewashed log-cabins, which i recognized as the negro quarters. the stone spring-house was in a little ravine convenient to the barn, where we all went to get a drink of cool water. while seated around on the big, flat stones, enjoying the cool, refreshing water, an old gentleman, tall and patriarchal-looking, walked toward us, and, in his courteous manner, introduced himself to the rough-looking crowd that had taken possession of his spring-house, as "the farmer who lived here," pointing back to his house, and politely asked if we required anything more to make us comfortable. for one, i felt abashed and uncomfortable, but lanyard spoke up and suggested that: "we would like to try a little of the kentucky whisky that we heard so much about." "certainly, certainly, sir;" and turning to a grinning colored "boy," who was quite a gray old rat, he directed him to "fetch the brown jug down." this kindly reception of the sailor's suggestion served to make the old gentleman exceedingly popular with the whole crowd. the colored man was anxious to be agreeable also, and, with quite a frisky manner for one of his age, he soon trotted back with a big jug and two tin cups. "wait on the gentlemen," was the brief order. the old darky smiled all over when he saw the alacrity with which the boys crowded toward the jug. i had never allowed myself to drink, and when my turn came the old gentleman seemed to be offended at my declining it, as if it were the quality of the whisky that i was objecting to; he explained: "you need not be afraid of that, my boy, it's pure; the rye was grown right over in that field, sir; i had it made myself, sir; it's for my own family use, sir." to satisfy him i took hold of a tin cup and allowed the boy to pour out a spoonful or two, intending to fill it up with water. "no use in that, sir; it don't need any water, sir." i gulped it down like a dose of medicine, and put a tin cup full of water on top of it. it was the first time i had ever seen whisky drank from a tin, but i saw lots of it come from the tin canteens soon after. the effect on lanyard was to make him talkative and somewhat confidential with the genial old host. i didn't hear what was said, but when we had separated, or the jug had been emptied, lanyard took me to one side and muttered in my ear, in a half-drunken way, in great confidence that: "i've told the old man that you and i were confederate prisoners, and gave him a hint that we would be glad to get a lunch." then grabbing me by the arm, i was dragged up to the house and made to sit down on the veranda with him. i wasn't drunk--that's a fact--i could see peeping through the window shades several pairs of bright eyes. i realized at a glance that it was our gray clothes that was the attraction, and that the appearance of two _real_ confederates on that porch was creating something of a sensation among the lady occupants of that "old kentucky home." in order to gratify my vanity, and to see the ladies, as well as a desire to have some fun, i helped to keep up this delusion. lanyard's object was something good to eat. lest there should be some misunderstanding on the part of our officer and his companions as to our motives, i quietly gave them the cue, and i admit now, with a sense of mortification, that we shamefully imposed ourselves on the kind people of that home as confederates, and, through this means, we were so hospitably entertained that the officer in command was induced to prolong his camp in that grove all night. several of us were furnished with an elegant supper of chicken and corn cakes, while the officer and myself were agreeably entertained by the ladies in the parlor during the long evening. there were, also, a couple of mules going back home on sick furlough. these were tied on behind the wagon that was in front of ours, being towed along in this way like a pair of solemn prisoners of war. one of these mules was bigger than the other, but the little one had the larger head and longer ears of the two, which gave to it a peculiar, wise-looking expression of grave dignity. it was what would be called a roan. i remember that, in our joking way, we had lots of fun about its hide being about the color of the rebel uniforms. i reckon our loud and coarse remarks about this mule must have hurt its feelings; at least, this is the only way in which i can account for its subsequent vindictive conduct toward me. those who have been in kentucky--especially that part of kentucky--will know something about the roads. at this season of the year they were simply awful--not so muddy, but just about as rough as big rocks, and the exposed roots of large trees could make them. the rains for ages back seemed to have washed out all the bottom of earth, and had left exposed on the surface a network or corduroy of roots, with the chinks filled in with stones. it wasn't pleasant riding in an army wagon over these roads, and we earned our passage by walking. there was not sufficient room on that road beside the wagon for a foot path, so we had to follow in the rear of the wagons. in a long procession of wagons, mules, and soldiers, sandwitched one behind the other, i was walking slowly, one afternoon, with my head down, thinking over the happy escapes from the many dangers through which i had been almost miraculously preserved, and no doubt dreaming of the anticipated joys of a welcome home, which was soon to be realized, when all of a sudden i felt a quick rush of wind and dust thrown like a gust into my face; at the same time the rim of my hat was barely touched by the heels of that roan mule. the fellow who was beside me cried out something about "looking out," and dragged me back into the heads of the team following. this is not an attempt to be funny, but is set down here as a most remarkable intervention of providence--or my good angel--for my safety. that mule kicked back over a clear space as long as himself, and had correctly directed his heels right into my face; had i been two inches closer, the blow would have been received full on my forehead and must have fractured my skull with its force. when we got into the town, or city of lexington, about noon, one day, we found the town full of people. it was, i think, court week; anyway, the prisoner game was played on some of the citizens here also, by lanyard. in this way we were well cared for. it was night when we reached cincinnati, where we were ferried over the ohio river and placed on ohio soil. here i was, at last, free of all restraint, and permitted to do as i pleased. lanyard was still full of the genuine kentucky bourbon, and that night was lost to me forever. i usually hunted up in those days, on reaching a city, a telegraph office, that i might announce to my folks at home, in this spirited way, that i had again returned to the earth for a brief visit to them. it was always a surprise to them to hear from me, after one of these secret-service trips; they never knew exactly where i was, of course, and could not make any calculations as to what point on the earth my balloon would land me next. it will be remembered that i had come upon them suddenly, after being widely advertised as having been hung by both the rebels and our own officers at fort pickens, some time previously, from new york. this time it was from cincinnati. being one of the boys--that is, a telegrapher--i usually had free access to the operating-rooms of the offices, where i frequently met with some of the fraternity with whom i was well acquainted--by wire. you know it is a fact that there are old acquaintances and even intimate friends amongst telegraphers, who have never met personally; their only method of knowing each other is through the mysterious and magnetic pulse of the electric wave over the wire. in the operating room of the cincinnati office, up on a dingy fourth floor, i found the night manager, a gentleman whom i had known familiarly by wire, though i had never seen him before. introducing myself, i was at once made at home, and felt as if i had met the first friend since my return. after giving him a brief account of myself, i was courteously put in instant communication with some of my old associates in the neighboring city, with whom i was personally acquainted, and who had, by the way, heard of my mysterious disappearance and subsequent adventures. for the time being, all other business was laid to one side on that telegraph circuit and the entire system was turned over to me. remember, if you please, that i had not heard a single word from home for over eight months. i did not, of course, know that all were well. i almost dreaded to hear first that some one dear to me had died during my long absence. i had sent some communications through the blockade from richmond, but this had been some time before i left east tennessee. of course, no replies to these could be received by me. now, if the reader will put himself in my own, or my father's place, each at the end of a wire five hundred miles long, and try to imagine, if he can, the agony of suspense and fear that hung over me at that hour, he will realize, in part, my feelings. my nerves were at such a tension that, figuratively speaking, they were strung out as long as that wire, that reached over miles of mountain and plain to my pennsylvania home. with my own hand trembling on the telegraph key i sent my own message, as follows: "to father: i am here safe; are all well at home?" [illustration: to father: "i am safe; are all well at home?"] while waiting for the answer, which i knew must come soon, the moments seemed hours of suspense, while i tried to entertain my friends who were about me with a brief sketch of my adventurers, one of the operators took from the wires and handed me the reply, which i had failed to catch with my own ear while engaged in the talk. he read aloud the exact words of a _bona fide_ message: "i had little hopes of ever seeing you again. come straight home. your uncle a---- is dead. all the rest well.--father." that was all. it was enough. all were well at home. the uncle who had died in my absence was the one relative i had last visited on the day i heard of the battle of bull run. i would like here to tender a tribute to my father, but i feel that i am not competent to do the subject justice. he still lives, an old patriarch, and will read these notes and for the first time fully understand the entire story of his wayward boy's adventures. my father was the one true constant friend of my checkered career, and to him and his untiring interest in my behalf i owe not only the preservation of my life, but what little i have attained in this world. i can sincerely thank god, as beecher says, "that i was born of parents who gave me a sound constitution and a noble example, and can never pay back what i got from my parents. if i were able to raise a monument of gold higher than heaven, it would be no expression of the debt of gratitude which i owe them, for that which they unceasingly gave by the heritage of their body and the heritage of their souls to me." that night we reached pittsburgh, which had been my business home for some years immediately preceding my war travels. my father's home was not at that time in pittsburgh but a little distance beyond. early next morning i was around town, and soon enough found plenty of my old chums. i was only in danger then of meeting too many people who were anxious to hear my story from my own lips. luckily for me, perhaps, i was captured by mr. william moreland, an old associate, who was then the district attorney, and through his advice and management i was preserved from my friends, and urged not to talk too much until i had first reported to washington. it will be remembered that i had suffered previously by giving the new york papers an account of my florida campaign in advance of my report to washington; and, with a desire to profit by this experience, i refrained from giving away my story. at my father's house, on the sunset side of the allegheny mountains close by cresson springs, i remained in comparative retirement but for a few days. while i was at home, it so happened that parson brownlow was coming up through ohio on his way to washington, after his release or banishment from home. he was having quite extensive ovations at all the principal cities, delivering at each place one of his characteristic speeches. one day, rather unexpectedly to me, we were told that the parson would pass our place on a certain train in a few hours. i determined to see him, and, if possible, get a speech for our townspeople while the train stopped. quite a crowd had gathered about the platform by the time the train reached us. we discovered the parson on the engine. the railroad officials, who were quite attentive to this class of travelers, usually tender their distinguished guests a seat on the engine, for a better view of the scenery as the train is whirled over the big mountain. i climbed up on the engine as soon as the train stopped, followed by my father and several others. the parson looked surprised, and i imagined for a moment that when he saw the familiar gray clothes making a break on him, followed by a crowd of eager persons so closely, that he recalled some of his former knoxville experiences among the rebels. mr. brownlow had changed considerably since i had seen him, when he was wrapped up in his old shawl in his knoxville parlor. he was dressed in a new suit of black broadcloth, and wore a high silk hat, gloves, etc., that gave him quite a clerical appearance. without speaking a word for a moment, so surprised was he, he simply reached his hand toward me with a blank stare of astonishment on his countenance. to my hearty, laughing greeting, he soon cordially replied, recognizing me as his interviewer with miss craig, and, but for the fact that the train stopped only a moment, we would have had a good speech from him. when the train reached altoona, twenty-five miles beyond, where the party were met by g. w. childs and mr. stewart, as a committee of reception from the city of philadelphia, and, in reply to their address of welcome, mr. brownlow pleasantly referred to "meeting one of his rebel guard up on the mountain," declaring that the rebel ghost followed him, phantom-like, every place he went, night and day, always awake. chapter xxiv. arrival at washington--meets hon. john covode--j. w. forney and senators--testimony before committee on the conduct of the war--remarkable interviews with secretary stanton--a visit to mr. lincoln, at washington--the telegraph corps--again ordered to the front, at fredericksburg, virginia. it was my good fortune at the time of my return home to meet with the hon. a. a. barker, of ebensburg, pennsylvania, who had been a friend of the family all my life, who subsequently represented that district of pennsylvania in congress. mr. barker may be described as being in every sense a large man. he was one of those great six-feet, bone-and-sinew fellows, who, as he used to say, "come from way down in maine, where i was bred and born." he was not only large in stature, but broad and liberal otherwise, with a head and heart in correct proportion. he lives yet, an honored citizen and a veritable daniel in the politics of his adopted state, and will, i have no doubt, be glad to read in print the history of his _protege_ of the early days of the war. mr. barker took me in charge for the time being, accompanying me to washington at his own expense, where i was to meet with my former friend, the hon. john covode. we went by way of philadelphia, in order to again meet parson brownlow, who was then a guest of mr. george w. childs. the purpose of the visit was to obtain from mr. brownlow some additional endorsement from him, of my being in knoxville, that my friends desired to use in washington. in those days i cared but little for such matters, as proofs or evidence of work i had endeavored to perform, which, as a rule, we left to others to look after in my interest. it would have been better for me in those days, perhaps, if i had been blessed with a little bit of ordinary business management, but i confess here that i had but a small allowance of "business sense," as that term is applied to selfish interests. i am thankful, however, for a good memory, and really believe that, after a little quiet reflection, i can bring to my mind nearly everything that happened to me during the war--that is worth remembering. i was induced to say that i had but little common sense, by the reflection, after a lapse of twenty-five years, that i must have shown a lamentable lack of policy, by traveling about so defiantly at this time in pennsylvania and washington, clothed in a dirty rebel uniform. this in itself was bad enough, but i was frequently so indiscreet as to show some boyish resentment toward every person whom i imagined was showing an idle curiosity as to my history. i became contrary, or, if you please, cranky, and indignantly refused to act upon the suggestion of friends, that i should make a change in my dress, declaring stubbornly that i should face the president in that uniform--and i did--at the war department office in washington; but it was a foolish thing to do, and gave me a heap of trouble subsequently, as we shall see. one of the most unlucky or unfortunate changes that had occurred during my long absence in richmond was, that simon cameron had been relieved, as the secretary of war, by the hon. e. m. stanton. the kind and clever old pennsylvania statesman, who had been induced to take such an interest in my work, and to whom i was directly responsible, was, at the time of my return, away off in st. petersburg, russia, as minister for the united states. colonel thomas a. scott, who had been an assistant secretary of war to mr. cameron, and whose personal endorsement to mr. cameron had first set me going, had also been relieved by a mr. p. h. watson, who was at the time acting assistant secretary to mr. stanton. my brother, spencer, who, for some months previously, had been in the employ of the war department as a telegraph operator, and whose relations with the government officials were necessarily somewhat of a confidential character, took me to his room in a boarding-house on f street, where were living a number of war department clerks. spencer thought the fact of my wearing the rebel uniform one of the best kind of jokes, and he, consequently, took great delight in calling the attention of all his war department associates to the fact. my old and constant friend "glory to god," as the hon. john covode was called, was the only man of prominence in washington that i knew, or who had any knowledge of my previous undertakings. he was a member of congress from a pennsylvania district adjoining my own home, near pittsburgh. congress was in session at this time, and it so happened that, for some months previously mr. covode had been stirring things up in the house at a lively rate, by his persistent investigation of our military men and movements in virginia. there had been an investigation of bull run, of ball's bluff massacre, of old patterson, in pennsylvania, and, more recently, a great hubbub had been raised all over the country about general mcclellan's failure, or slowness, in moving "on to richmond" via manassas. there was, indeed, a great deal of this sort of thing going on, the details of which had been ground up and sifted through the one joint "committee on the conduct of the war," of which mr. covode was chairman. to make a long story short, all will see--to use a vulgar term--that my arrival was "just nuts to old glory," as some one told me. if an angel had dropped down from the sky to corroborate the honest old man's assertion, it would not have been more opportune. i had been inside the rebel lines for months. i had obtained the rebel opinions, officially, of manassas, after the battle, and knew the exact strength of the rebel army was not _one-half_ as large as mcclellan's scare had represented it to be. i had heard the comments of the rebel secretary of war on ball's bluff massacre. mr. covode could, and did, endorse me as a "reliable devil," as he put it, in the committee room, and, of course, i was willing enough to be of service to my old friend, and was glad that i was able to substantiate nearly all of his statements. the morning of my arrival in washington, i hunted up mr. covode, and found him in his rooms at the old avenue hotel, the large, plain, old affair, that once stood at the corner of seventh and market space. i was an early caller, and, without a card, knocked at his door before he was out of bed. to his sleepy growl of "who's there?" i simply gave my name. there was only one word of reply, "helloa," in a loud emphatic tone; then in a more moderate voice, he continued, as if talking to himself: "wait a minute. i got word you were coming, and have been expecting you every day." [illustration: he seemed to have forgotten all about dressing himself.] the door opened, and the great pennsylvania statesman stood before me--in his robe _de nuit_--grinning all over, with his hair all mussed up and his bare legs sticking out under his shirt. he was about as funny a looking object as anything i had met with in my travels. he wasn't embarrassed, but, as he shook hands, i was drawn inside, and the door closed with a bang. all that was said that morning would make quite a chapter. the circumstance which remains strongest in my mind to-day is, that he sat on the edge of the bed, and asked question after question in such an interested way that he seemed to me to have forgotten all about dressing himself. i was for the time being more interested in seeing him get some clothes on than in the fate of mcclellan's army. after breakfast, mr. covode took me to the capitol, and the first person i met there was colonel j. w. forney, then editor of the philadelphia _press_, and also secretary of the senate. mr. forney impressed me most favorably; in truth, i felt more at home with him than with my old friend covode--probably because mr. forney had the tact of drawing out his subjects and was more able to practice the suave gentleman than was the sturdy, honest old john. i was for a time taken in charge by mr. forney, who, in turn, introduced me to several senators, among them the hon. edgar cowan, of pennsylvania. i remember mr. forney saying, in an aside to senator cowan, and the others to whom i was introduced, "he is a capital subject." mr. forney did me another valuable service at this time. of course i had no money; i had been depending upon the generous pocketbook of my good friend barker. i made mr. forney and mr. covode acquainted with my circumstances, by a request for some immediate and active employment to enable me to earn my expenses. mr. forney had a clerk make out some sort of a "voucher," which i think must have been for mileage and witness fees all over the rebel country that i had traversed, another clerk cashed the paper for me, and, in this way, i was furnished at once with quite a nice little pile of crisp, new greenbacks from the secretary of the senate. this was the first and only cash that i have ever received for all those months of service--of trial, distress and danger--excepting that which the good comrades who will contribute by subscribing for these "recollections of the unforgotten days to all of us." amongst the other members of the pennsylvania delegation, to whom i was introduced that morning, was the hon. s. s. blair, then and now a resident of hollidaysburg, pennsylvania. as mr. blair is the sole survivor of those who were with me at that time, i desire particularly that his testimony should be added to establish the correctness of my narrative, or to serve as a review notice, if it ever attains to the distinction of a criticism or becomes the subject of a controversy. the hon. j. k. moorehead, who represented pittsburgh, was another of the delegation in my interest. thus it will be seen that, through the management of mr. forney, the entire western pennsylvania delegation, including senator cowan, of greensburg, pennsylvania, had been interested in my "report." as i have before stated, i paid but little attention to these details at the time. i had but the one request, and, as before, which was, that i should be commissioned as a second lieutenant in the regular cavalry service and detailed on the general staff, in active field service. i wanted to go _at once_ to the field, and cared but little for the "effect of my testimony" before the committee, or the pecuniary reward for the service. mr. forney said, in his pleasant way, that was so grateful to me that i have not forgotten a word of it: "why, certainly, you must have that at least, if not more;" but, turning to covode, he continued: "curtin can do better than that for us." covode thought anything whatever that i wanted could be done, but suggested, kindly, that it would be better for me not to take a commission in the volunteers of pennsylvania, because i should have to be put in over the heads of some others, and that would make it ugly for me personally. i agreed with mr. covode heartily in that. i had been in the rebel service long enough to see that this sort of thing didn't work there, because claiborne, the mississippi lieutenant, was really treated as a foreigner, or outsider, by the rest of us "refugees from maryland." so it was arranged between them that i should have a commission in the regular army. in support of this, mr. forney kindly talked to senator cowan in my behalf, who expressed some doubts about getting a lieutenancy, saying in his plain way: "why, we may just as well ask the secretary to make him a brigadier-general; he can do that, because they are making generals every day, but they are not making any lieutenants in the regular army." but mr. forney insisted in his agreeable way: "but, my dear sir, here is a young man who has done our state--who has done the government more service than some of our generals; he has been all over virginia, and knows all about the rebel army, and all about richmond--from personal visits; why," with an expression of disgust, "his services are simply indispensable at this time; he should be sent down to the army, where the information he has gained will be of immediate use to us." the only answer that senator cowan made to this appeal, as he looked me all over critically, as he would if buying a horse: "you have the right sort of grit in you, but i don't believe we can get it." it was arranged between them all that i should first give my testimony before the joint committee on the conduct of the war. mr. covode and mr. forney quietly conferred among themselves (they were republicans and senator cowan a democrat), and concluded that only a small part of my history should be made public at present. i don't know why this was thought necessary, but while mr. covode and i walked together over to the committee room on the house side of the capitol, he cautioned me, in his fatherly way, not to talk too much, and to answer only such questions as he would suggest. on page , volume , of the printed document containing the report of the committee on the conduct of the war, will be found only that portion of my testimony that mr. covode and mr. forney, as my political managers, thought advisable to put on record at the time. the full story was detailed at different times to mr. forney and mr. covode, and others, but has never been made fully public until the present time. after i had finished my testimony to suit mr. covode, and had been severely cross-examined by some of the opposition members of the committee, i was told through my friend covode, that i should make myself perfectly comfortable; that he and the rest of the delegation would see that i was properly cared for. i felt that a great load had been taken off my shoulders in this one day--that the secrets of my trip, which i had been carrying around with me, among rebels and friends for months, had been safely deposited with the government, and that i was at last free, and could do as i pleased once more. i had worn the rebel uniform to the capitol and into the committee room, and gave my testimony standing at "attention" in it. in giving my full testimony to the committee on the conduct of the war, i had no thought of antagonizing the war department. my secret service was, in a manner, "irregular," and, instead of reporting direct to the war office or to a general in the field, i was induced to give the story to a committee that was investigating both. in this way it was not "suppressed" in anybody's interest, but afterward had the effect of antagonizing certain war department detectives against my subsequent services, as will be shown further on. the first thing that i did with some of the money which had been given me was to trim myself out from head to foot in the best suit of clothes that i could find in washington, but i preserved the uniform for future use. the next number on the programme was to take my brother and some of his friends to "gautier's"--which was then the celebrated french restaurant--or, chamberlains, of to-day, in washington, where we indulged in a generous lay-out. the third number on the programme, i will simply describe as "making a night of it." we all went to the canterbury and had a pleasant evening together, while i told the party of similar experiences at night in the rebel capitol at richmond. while i remained in washington waiting for an office, like the office-seekers that now hang about the departments, i remember that i was continually worried with the dreadful thought that mcclellan's great army of good-looking officers would get there while i was being tethered, like a young steer, in the capitol. my case was "left entirely in the hands of my friends"--that is, i had nothing whatever to do with it but to wait, which was about the most difficult part of the job. as i recollect it, mr. covode was not on such particularly good terms with mr. stanton as he had been with the pennsylvania secretary, general simon cameron. it is likely, too, that mr. covode's disposition to be continually "investigating things," caused the new administration of the war department some annoyance. covode was naturally cameron's champion, because they were both pennsylvania politicians--if for no other reason. on account of some such feeling as this, perhaps, it was thought advisable among my "managers" that mr. covode should not personally bother mr. stanton--in my interest; that part of the contract was to be left to senator cowan and john w. forney, while covode was to see mr. lincoln. i loafed about the capitol a great deal during the session each day, and i reckon, in my persistence and restlessness, that i bothered these statesmen a good bit. i had assurances from mr. covode every day that "it was all right," but i remembered that this was the exact way in which he talked to me on the former visit, and i was blunt enough to remind him of this truth, when he promptly got it back on me by saying: "it would have been all right, too, if you had come back here, but we all thought you were dead for so long." he explained over and over again that the war office was so crowded, on account of the spring campaign, that it was impossible to do anything there in a rush. one day senator cowan, of pennsylvania, handed me a very brief note, which read as follows, bluntly directing me to go to the war department and watch my chance to present it personally to mr. stanton. "hon. e. m. stanton, _secretary of war_. "_dear sir:_ the bearer is the young man who has given important testimony to the committee, about whom papers have been filed for an appointment where he can do the most good. it is suggested that you may be able to learn something additional of value from him. yours truly, "edgar cowan." the senator didn't give me a chance to ask him any questions, but left me abruptly to talk to a group of persons who were waiting for him. i saw mr. forney and showed him the letter, which somehow or other was not satisfactory to me. mr. forney folded it up and handed it back to me, saying, in his elegant way: "you just take that paper up to stanton, and hang to him till he _sees you_. that's all he wants." then, in a fatherly way, he gave me the advice to "let him do all the talking; you just answer his questions." in an hour i was at the old war department again. i first put on my gray jacket, but had covered it with a light spring duster or overcoat, at mr. forney's suggestion. the war department of was a desolate looking old affair, something after the architectural style of the "four story barracks," in a well-kept arsenal reservation. on the second floor a long corridor extended from one end of the building to the other, running east and west, on each side of which were the rooms of the principal chiefs. in the southeast corner, nearest to the white house, was the secretary's apartments, with whose location i was somewhat familiar, because of some previous long "waits" and mighty short interviews with mr. cameron when he was secretary. on this visit, as before, i found in this corridor rows of people seated along the wall--ladies and gentlemen, officers, and a few sick-looking soldiers; big fat contractors elbowed the thin-faced, big-nosed, jewish sutler, congressmen, and, in fact, all sorts of people; and it is safe to say that every one of them had been there for hours, perhaps days and weeks previously, waiting their turn, or an opportunity to get to talk to the secretary on their own business, which, of course, was more important to them than anybody else's. there was a handsome soldier of the regular army in citizen's dress on duty at the outside door, as an orderly or messenger. when i saw all that were ahead of me, i was discouraged, but, profiting by past experience, i made a break for the secretary's office, when i was stopped by the orderly, who demanded my business. i was in a rebel uniform, but the soldier orderly didn't notice that; he said his orders were not to admit anybody at that time. i showed him my letter, saying, with an assumption of importance, that i was sent to the secretary by senator cowan to present it personally. a senator, especially a _democratic_ senator's request, was really of greater weight than half a dozen common congressmen, because it was important just then that the government should conciliate the loyal democrats in congress. the soldier took a card, wrote the senator's name and my own on it, and invited me to a vacant chair in the secretary's office. there were rows of people sitting alongside the wall, inside the room, just as there was out in the corridor; but i had gained one point; i was on the inner circle. i had never seen mr. stanton before, and was not nearly so anxious to see him again, after the first time. i need not describe the great war secretary's personal appearance. his face resembles the photographs, and has always struck me as being the best likeness extant of all those great men. he was not so tall as one would think from looking at a picture of his face; and when i saw him, he stood at a small, high desk, a little to one side of the room, very much to my mind in the position of a school-teacher before an old-fashioned desk. the desk itself was a plain, square, long-legged affair, precisely such as we used to see our teachers stand behind, or that are used more recently by auctioneers on street sales. the sitters on the anxious benches all around the front portion of his room, with their serious watchful faces, helped the illusion, that i was in the presence of a lecturer or judge, awaiting my turn for sentence, like the rest of the culprits. the attendant found me a chair alongside of a natty-looking young officer in uniform on one side, and a big, fat congressman on the other; he laid my card, with the senator's name, on mr. stanton's desk. the secretary was then standing beside his pulpit, talking in his positive way to some old gentleman; he was so intent on this business that he never deigned to look at my card when it was left on his table. we did not overhear the conversation between the secretary and his visitor, and being at a loss for something to do, i turned to the young officer beside me and said something as to the prospect for a talk with the secretary. he replied in a very polite way, that he had been waiting for hours, for a single word; that, with him, it was a question of life and death; but he couldn't get any audience until the secretary "called his name" from the cards on his desk. the young man had so impressed me by his courteous manner that i became curious to know his errand, which he explained in a whispered conversation. he was just from the bedside of a dying father, on his way to rejoin his command, his leave having expired; he had stopped at washington, and, upon the endorsement of influential congressmen, he had called to ask the secretary to extend his leave so that he might be at his father's bedside and bury him before leaving for the army. the officer told me all of this in a trembling voice, while his eyes were filled with tears. i felt so much sympathy for him that i offered to give him my time if my name should be called before his. at my urgent suggestion, when the old gentleman was about to leave the secretary, the young officer approached mr. stanton, who bluntly demanded his name. then looking over his file of papers to what his business was, while the young fellow in the most genteel and effective way stated his wishes to the secretary. i shall never, never forget the words that mr. stanton spoke on that occasion; they "sank deeply into my heart," perhaps, as also into that of the young officer. "i cannot extend your leave, but i will accept your resignation!" as he said this, he handed to the officer the papers he had filed. looking him over in a contemptuous way, the secretary turned to look after the next victim on his list. the officer mildly protested, saying: "why, mr. secretary i do not want to leave the service; i merely want to spend the last days--" here he was roughly interrupted by mr. stanton who repeated in an angry tone, so that all could hear: "i'll accept your resignation, sir." the poor fellow would not consent to be driven from the service in this way, even to attend his father's last wishes. when he returned to pick up his hat, which had been left on the chair beside me, his face was white, and his hands trembled so that he could scarcely take hold of his hat. i assisted him, and together we left the secretary's office in deep disgust. i had enough for one day. after reporting the incident to mr. covode and others, they mildly laughed at my indignation, while they expressed the cold-blooded opinion that it was only one of stanton's ordinary jokes. after this, i was more than ever anxious to get out of washington, and began to feel that i should be willing to take anything at all, that savored of active service in the field, being perfectly content to leave my personal business with mr. stanton in the hands of my friends. it was decided among them all that i should be taken to the white house to see mr. lincoln, personally. all the arrangements for this visit were made, as nearly as i can recollect, without consulting me about it in any way at all. it was generally understood, i reckon, that i needed somebody to properly present my business affairs, and that it was hardly worth while to bother with me about such things. i only know that i was told by mr. covode to get ready to accompany him to the white house. "we are all going up in general moorehead's carriage and want you to be on hand sure, as it's hard to get them all together." i didn't know who "they" were, until i came down to his room rigged out in a grey jacket. while we were waiting for the carriage to come around for us, mr. covode explained further: "we're going to make a demand on the president for your pay out of the secret-service fund." i had only heard in a general way that anything of this sort was contemplated. i can say here again, sincerely, that my only desire and aim was for a commission in the regular army, and a detail on the staff, where i should have a chance for active service in the field. while we waited mr. covode explained more fully: "you are entitled to this; the fund is being squandered shamefully by certain influences, who are making the president believe that they are giving him valuable information. we all know your service and experience has been of some practical use, and you are going to be paid for it, too, in cash as well as in promotion." he had a way of saying things in a very emphatic style when he became interested, when i expressed my thanks for his interest and proffered a remuneration, he began to talk bad grammar at me in such a way that i had to beg off. the carriage called; in it were senator cowan, general j. k. moorehead, m. c., from pittsburgh; hon. s. s. blair, of hollidaysburg, and hon. john covode. i jumped up with the coachman, and we made a charge on the white house. before we started off there was a short but pointed business consultation among them. senator cowan had suggested: "now we had better have an understanding before we go up there." general moorehead agreed that this was necessary; and when i undertook to make a suggestion about getting mr. lincoln to give me a commission, covode told me in polite terms but decided language, but in a fatherly way: "now you've got to keep quiet." the rest all thought this quite a funny remark. when covode crawled into the carriage, mr. moorehead said, "well, what's the programme?" covode explained that it was to be a demand for pay from the president's secret-service fund. no one had even suggested the amount, and i reckon mr. covode's idea was to leave this discretionary with the president, but mr. blair and moorehead, who were business men as well as statesmen, insisted that it would be better to settle a sum in advance. "make it enough," said mr. blair. "yes, we may just as well make it $ , ," observed the senator. mr. moorehead shrewdly suggested: "we have to appropriate this secret-service money anyhow, and our votes will go for this amount." covode admitted that, "we have given him hundreds of thousands of dollars for this use already." this, in a general way was the plan and purpose of the visit to mr. lincoln on that date. it failed--not that the claim was rejected by the president--it was never presented to him or anybody else. when we reached the white house we were informed on the threshold that "the president had that day gone to fortress monroe." that ended it for that day, and for all time. soon after, i left washington for another trip. the same crowd were never again brought together in this interest. as i have said, i was not a good manager, and perhaps neglected my own interests in this respect. i have to show my children, however, that which is dearer to me than gold--a commission as a second lieutenant signed by abraham lincoln and e. m. stanton. that will remain for all time on the war records of my country. if i had secured this money, i might have failed in obtaining this commission, and no doubt the $ , would have soon disappeared from sight forever and no record of it left. a few days after this visit--the date of which may be fixed by a reference to the books, which will indicate the time of mr. lincoln's visit to fortress monroe--i saw mr. stanton personally, but only for a moment; he was not such a dreadful person after all, as i expected to find him. since i had been a disgusted witness to the abrupt interview between mr. secretary stanton and the young officer who desired his leave extended that he might visit his dying father, i was not particularly anxious to encounter the secretary at close range. i had said as much so emphatically to mr. covode and the other friends, all of whom laughed at my earnestness, and consoled me with the remark that they had all suffered in the same way at the war office, and that i must not expect to be welcomed with open arms by mr. stanton. it was no good to explain to them that i didn't want to be welcomed, or kicked out either. i was told that i _must_ see mr. stanton; that they could do nothing for me without first securing his approval. i recall in this connection an old chestnut, which explains in reality pretty nearly the true status of affairs between the president and his secretary of war. in conversation with a group of friends about my "case," mr. covode had expressed the conviction that for him to interfere with stanton would only operate against my chances, as he was thought to be a meddlesome investigator; and another congressman related the story about mr. lincoln telling an importunate office-seeker that he, the president, "didn't have very much influence with this administration." i called at the war office several times, and always found the same old crowd in the corridors, and, though i was somewhat "fresh" and impulsive, i could not raise the courage to face the grim old secretary, because he was _always_ engaged with somebody, and i feared to intrude or interrupt him with my personal affairs. as i have said previously, i had a brother, who was employed in the war department telegraph office, but as his hours for duty were at night, i could not avail myself of this opportunity to loaf with him. one day, however, after so much annoying delay, i put on my rebel jacket, screwed up my courage, and determined to settle the matter by a bold dash on the war office. my brother accompanied me, and, while waiting in the ante-room of the telegraph office, i had a long and quite an agreeable chat with general anson stager, who had charge of all the military telegraph. the general, in those days, was quite a jolly, good-natured gentleman; and, in this respect, almost the opposite to his subordinate, major eckert, who was very dignified in his bearing toward his subordinates. i was young and not unobserving, and i noticed that major eckert always lost his dignity and high-and-mighty bearing, when he had any dealings with _his_ superiors. general stager was alike to all. general stager became much interested in my secret service more especially in that part wherein i had attached myself to the rebel telegraph office at general beauregard's headquarters, from whence i could overhear all the messages between headquarters and richmond. general stager laughed heartily at my recital of these events. he looked at my rebel jacket with interest, took hold of my arm to critically examine the texture of the cloth, and wound up by saying: "well, you certainly are an acquisition to us, and i want you in our service." when i explained my desire to obtain a commission, that i might get into active service, the general endeavored in a kindly way to persuade me saying: "it wasn't worth while to do that; they could pay me more salary than a commission as second lieutenant would bring beside i should be allowed all the liberty i chose at the front, being at headquarters as a civilian, furnished with a horse or ambulance, and all the rations i could consume, and independent of the military." he made it very attractive indeed; but i resisted the temptation, determined to stick to my plans. i had expressed a willingness to do or undertake any special service, but i wanted to be an officer. after consultation with some one in another room, who was either the secretary himself or some of the high officials in the adjutant-general's department, general stager came back to me and clinched that which came very near being a nail in my coffin. he proposed something like this: "the army is on the peninsula, and washington is cut off in a manner from telegraph communication with them, except by means of a dispatch boat to the nearest point on the maryland side of the chesapeake, from which the telegraph is open to washington. if you could open communication for us, _overland_--say from fredericksburg, or the outposts of our forces there, to connect with mcclellan on the peninsula by courier service--it would be a good thing for us, as we could hear from our army so much quicker." everybody will appreciate the anxiety of the officials to hear from the army promptly and frequently. in other words, i was to operate secretly between our lines below fredericksburg and mcclellan's advance, only a gap of a few miles, but not occupied by either army but infested with "guerrillas." i accepted the proposition without a moment's thought about the probable difficulties that were to be met with in carrying out the undertaking, and i had been over that country in virginia and was familiar with it. i was anxious to do _anything_ that would give me an opportunity for active service. my brother interposed some objections, which general stager thoughtfully considered, and, after admonishing me of the danger in my case, he again proffered service in the telegraph department. it was arranged between us that i should call again on the following day; meantime he would consult with some of the officers and ascertain their wishes in regard to the matter. general eckert, who was in the room, had overheard part of my story--he had not been consulted at all by general stager--to my mind, showed in his manner some little resentment toward me, probably because of the interest that general stager had seemingly taken in my affairs. he felt impelled to make some remark, intended to be jocular, about a rebel uniform being in the war department. i didn't pay much attention to it at the time, and probably would not have observed the circumstance had not several others, who were present, made it a subject of conversation among themselves at our dinner-table that day. in leaving the war department building that day, i walked out by the basement or east door, nearest the white house, intending to take the short cut, through the white house grounds, to our boarding-house on f street. just as i passed out of the door my quick eye detected president lincoln coming up the few stone steps into the doorway; as he slowly walked or shuffled along, he was apparently reading the contents of a paper, which he held before his eyes with both hands. i had seen mr. lincoln inaugurated, and frequently since. i recognized him at a glance, and to get a closer look, i respectfully stood to one side of the steps to let him pass. a gentleman was walking alongside of the president, and as the two passed the president became crowded quite close to me, and actually touched or rubbed against my rebel uniform. mr. lincoln apparently did not see me; he was too deeply immersed in reading, or trying to read, the letter he held in his hand as he walked, while the gentlemen with him was gabbling in his ear in a very earnest manner. so it happened, as i had predicted, when my home friends had shown their opposition to my wearing the gray, that i saw mr. lincoln while dressed in my rebel uniform. i had shaken hands with "the other president"--jeff davis--in richmond, only a short time previously, while attired in the same court dress. this "interview" wasn't exactly as satisfactory to me as it might have been, if i had been presented by the delegation that had called with me a few days sooner. but i had "seen the president," and, as there had been such a great opportunity presented for some further secret service in my line, i didn't care very much just then whether i should again get the crowd together for another call or not. that evening i saw mr. covode, to whom i related my interview with general stager, telling him of the plan upon which i had agreed to make the trip to richmond again. the old man put on his specks, looked over the top of them at me in a curious sort of way, and said, rather savagely: "you beat hell, you do." then in a more moderate tone he protested earnestly against it, saying: "you mustn't let everybody make use of you that way." when i explained that i was only desirous of getting out of washington, and anxious to be on hand in the field when richmond was taken, and intimated further that mr. stanton and the president would give me the commission on sight if i should come in first with some good news, he remonstrated earnestly: "oh, yes; you go down there again in that shape, and you wont need any commission; they will hang you, sure, to the first tree." i had to leave the old man without getting any encouragement from him, but had given him a promise, before saying "good-night," that i would not do anything further in the matter until i saw him again; in the meantime he urged me to see mr. stanton. i went to bed that night very much disturbed in mind. while i was not so very anxious to continue the secret-service work, i felt so worn-out and disappointed at the dilatoriness in getting anything settled in washington toward a commission, that i was about ready to both give it up and to try again. we were continually hearing so much that was exciting from the front, that i was really half wild and in a fever of impatience to be on hand among the boys. the next day i called at the war office early, determined to see mr. stanton, or at least make a sure thing of his seeing me before i should again leave. i had preserved senator cowan's letter and with it in my hand i made an onslaught on the regular orderly at the door. he had gotten to know me, and pleasantly suggested: "if you hang to it with your teeth, you will get all you want." with his assistance i got my card in to the secretary, and was again shown a seat inside the secretary's room, to wait until my name was called. in addition to the regular crowd, there seemed to be a delegation of some kind in an adjoining room, as i judged from the loud talking. the secretary came out of the room, but, before he could reach his pulpit, he was called back; then, in a few minutes, he again made his appearance in the doorway, talking back to those inside in his usual vigorous style. feeling desperate, and always impulsive, i made a bold break and handed the secretary my letter before he reached his desk, being careful to prelude my intrusion by saying: "senator cowan directed me to hand you this personally." with a sharp glance of impatience at me, he took the letter, walked to his desk, and, without opening it, began to deliberately look over his pile of cards. i stood my ground, right in front of him, feeling very much like a guilty school-boy who had been called up by his teacher for punishment. when mr. stanton raised his eyes from the cards and spied me, still standing in front of him, he looked towards me then as if remembering the letter, and said to me: "where is the note from senator cowan?" "i gave it to you, mr. secretary," said i tremblingly. he looked around, found the envelope, and, while he read it, i felt in my soul that i would rather face jeff davis and the whole rebel army again than the secretary of war. i resolved, if i ever got out of that alive, i'd risk anything in the front rather than go back into that room and face the secretary of war. when he finished reading the letter, he looked me over earnestly as he folded it up slowly. it will be remembered that this paper referred to me as having been _every place_ in the south; that i had a most valuable experience, etc. the secretary astonished me by saying, in the most agreeable and gentle tones, as he looked benevolently through his glasses: "i would like to talk with you, but i'm engaged, and i will have to refer you to the assistant-secretary to-day." i was too scared to make an immediate reply. the secretary, calling the orderly to him, said to him, as he endorsed something on the bottom of my letter: "take this gentleman to the assistant-secretary." that was all, but that was enough for me for one day. if there was any one person in all washington city for whom, or against whom, i entertained an unjust prejudice--i might say, a deep-seated hatred--it was mr. p. h. watson, the assistant-secretary of war. i had never met him; in fact, i had never seen him; but the simple fact that he had taken the place of my old friend colonel thomas a. scott in the war office, since cameron's removal, was of itself sufficient to turn me against him; but, in addition to this fact, i had gathered from mr. covode and the rest of the pennsylvania delegation, as well as the telegraph boys in the war department, that mr. watson, and his clique of friends, had scandalously maligned mr. scott personally and abused mr. cameron politically. i was ushered into the presence of a large, red-headed, sandy-complexioned man, to whom i was introduced, as the young man mr. secretary had "directed to present to you." mr. watson, at the moment we entered, was busy with some papers. he was surrounded by clerks, occupying other desks in his room, but at once dropped everything to receive us. upon reading the senator's letter and the secretary's endorsement, he at once became very gracious toward me. and, as he shook hands and drew me to a chair near him, and began some complimentary remarks about my "valuable services," i was not only disappointed at the secretary in having said not a word about the matter which was uppermost in my mind, but i was also really angry at being handed over to mr. watson in a second-handed manner to be pumped by him. therefore, i didn't pump worth a cent. i was dry. mr. watson made it worse for me by the first question he put. "i presume you are in mr. pinkerton's service." that was adding insult. i resented this insinuation by asserting emphatically: "i am not a detective at all." the interview did not last long, so there is not much to say about it here; in fact, it ended rather abruptly, when mr. watson further suggested that i should put myself in communication with mr. pinkerton, who had charge of all these things. i want to make it as plain right here to all who may read this story as i did to mr. watson twenty-five years ago, that i reject with scorn and contempt the intimation that i was a detective, working for money. i declined positively to have any communication with the chief of the secret service, and told mr. watson, as my friends had all frequently suggested, that i had done important secret-service work for the secretary of the war department, _direct_, and i wanted something now wherein i could make available my past experiences. as i had promised mr. covode not to make any engagements with any one, and had fulfilled my agreement to see the secretary, i retired from the war office in disappointment and disgust. i saw mr. covode and the other friends, to whom i related my experience with mr. stanton and mr. watson, and, at the same time, declared my intention to leave the city for the front, and enter the army as a private soldier, and work my way up to position by meritorious service in _front_ of the enemy, instead of in the rear. the day following, before i could get an opportunity to again see general stager in regard to his proposal, or take any action myself, mr. covode sent for me. when i reached his room he said, in his blunt way: "if you are bound to be in the field, i'll give you a letter to general haupt, who has charge of the railroad between fredericksburg and aquia creek, and he will give you something to do to keep you busy down there till we can get something fixed up here." i eagerly accepted this proposal; it was not what i wanted exactly, but it admitted of my going to the front, and that, too, in an official position, wherein i could be on hand and, unmolested, see everything that was being done. i had known general haupt well, as the accomplished chief engineer of the pennsylvania railroad, and mr. covode had been assured by him, it seems, that he would be delighted to have me in his military railroad service, as i had experience in that direction in mr. scott's service. we were going to rebuild that road right into richmond the next week, and i consoled myself with the thought that, if i did not reënter richmond on a horse as an officer, that i might get there all the same on a locomotive. i was to be paid a good salary and expenses. all my friends thought it just splendid, and i imagine now, though i didn't think so at the time, that the position was created for me just to prevent my getting into trouble again. in a few days i took a morning steamer, armed with an official pass and a bundle of good clothing, and sailed with the greatest anticipations of quickly seeing richmond. we reached aquia creek in a few hours--this, as all the boys will know, was then the leading place or connecting point between the steamers and the railroads to richmond. after strolling about there for an hour, i got aboard the first train, which was made up of open truck cars, and we rolled over the ten or twelve miles past the straggling camps of our forces then thereabouts, crossing the high and hastily-improvised trestle of bridges that had been built by "sojers," in the place of those destroyed. chapter xxv. geno--fredericksburg--a chapter of war history not in _the century_ papers. it will be remembered that, on a previous occasion, i had made an entrée into the town of fredericksburg, on the bare back of an old horse, on the morning in august after the night of horror in which i was pursued by rebels, suffering from the attack of bloodhounds. on the occasion of this, my second visit, i rolled over the temporary railroad bridge into the old depot at fredericksburg on a freight train, dressed--well, in the best store clothes that money would buy at that time in washington. i am not sure of the exact date on which i got into fredericksburg, _en route_ to richmond; it does not matter much, as i do not pretend to have kept an accurate record of the dates, however, it was along in april or may, judging by my recollection of the weather at that time. mcclellan's great army of the potomac was on the peninsula only a few miles from richmond, while fitz-john porter had been up to hanover court house, about half way between fredericksburg and richmond. general mcdowell was in command of quite a large, but, as i recollect it, a widely scattered and very much mixed up force at fredericksburg. the problem was to unite mcclellan's and mcdowell's forces against richmond. there was just this little gap of some ten or fifteen miles between these two armies, and it was this bit of neutral ground that general anson stager, of the united states military telegraph corps, was so desirous of opening communication through, because the "washington government" could only hear from mcclellan by way of the slow medium of dispatch boats across the bay to the nearest point of telegraph. i was directed by mr. covode to report in person, with a letter to the chief engineer, or superintendent, of the richmond & fredericksburg military railroad, general haupt, who was recently the chief engineer and builder of the northern pacific railroad. exactly what was to be the nature of my duties i do not now recall, if, indeed, i ever knew. i was shown to the exchange, or may be it was the planter's; anyway, it was the best hotel, located on the hill, on one of the principal streets leading out toward marye's heights. it was not a particularly hospitable place for me, because i saw at once that the young boy, who ran the office for his mother, was only there to collect all the money he could from the "yankee invaders," while the father and elder brother were probably in the rebel camps outside of town, only waiting a favorable opportunity to return and scalp the boarders. the town was full, literally and spiritually, not only of mcdowell's soldiers, who were in camp all around, but of all sorts of strange people in civilians' dress--adventurers, sutlers, traders, whisky smugglers, strange women--in fact, the main street of the quiet, sleepy old aristocratic town was a perfect bedlam in , as compared with my first visit in august, . that evening, before dark, i saw on the street a greater variety of life than i had met in washington on any one evening during my stay there. these numerous hangers-on of the armies had been, to a great degree, excluded from the peninsula, so they had swarmed up to fredericksburg as the next best place for them, to be nearest their favorite regiments, and "on the road to richmond," where they all expected to rejoin mcclellan's army in a very few days. in addition to the great number of officers and men of the army, there were several batches of naval officers from one or two gunboats of the potomac flotilla, which had sailed up the rappahannock and were anchored below town. altogether, it was what might be termed a lively town. the ordinary, quiet population had been suddenly increased to , or , of mcdowell's army and followers, which had settled down around the hills and the streets in one night, like a flock of bluebirds or crows at a roosting place. during my walk about the town that evening, i ran against a crowd of contrabands on the sidewalk, who were watching with the greatest interest the antics of a pair of new york street arabs, or newsboys, who were dressed up in their rags doing some song-and-dance acts, to the great delight of the country soldiers and assembled contrabands. there was even an attempt at a theatrical performance after early candle-lighting. indeed it was only after taps that the provost-marshal's guard made any attempt to suppress the fun. it did not occur to me, until after i had undressed myself and had "doused the glim," while looking out of the window toward the virginia hill, since so well known as marye's heights, that there was any possibility of the rebels making a sudden dash on the town and capturing us all. i seemed to realize, only when i was alone, that there might be some chance for those rebel fellows getting in there in sufficient force to gobble us all up. as i peered through the darkness in the direction of richmond, i appreciated pretty strongly the fact that i was getting close to the front of that rebel gang again, and i had not the least desire to get inside their lines as a prisoner. i didn't sleep well, so early next morning i started out to find a place to stay, which did not impress me so strongly as being the house of my enemy. it was my good luck, or my fate, to have met with a clever gentleman in mr. jimmy wilson, of middletown, pennsylvania. he was one of those happy, companionable persons, to whom one naturally attaches one's self to on first acquaintance. his business in fredericksburg was that of a trader to the army, and he had secured some special privileges in this direction through his townsman, general simon cameron, while he was yet secretary of war. it may be that mr. wilson was attracted to me by something of a selfish motive, through a knowledge of my connection with the railroad in an official capacity, by which he might be able to better facilitate his business interests in the transportation of his "supplies" over the road and evading too close inspections. in the shrewd manner peculiar to the business of traveling salesmen, he had discovered the very best place in the town to live, to which he kindly consented to introduce me. it was through him that i first met my "fate," in the family of captain wells. there were in this happy and accomplished household quite a bevy of young ladies. "all were young, but one was beautiful." it is quite a long, and i think may be an interesting, story, which is indeed quite too romantic for this narrative of facts. i will only say that geno, the youngest, was, to my eyes, all that may be described as a beautiful, budding young girl. the eldest, miss sue, had been a belle in georgetown before the war; another, miss mamie, was noted for her sweet disposition. the father, i grieve to add, was suspected by our officers of being a blockade-runner for the rebels. he had been engaged on the regular underground line between richmond and washington, via the potomac river, since the commencement of the war. previous to this he had been the owner and captain of a steamer plying on the rappahannock river. through this means he had gained valuable information of the river and little bays of that part of virgina, and knew all about the inlets and outlets of the adjacent water, and was, in consequence of this fact, probably suspected of being a most valuable ally to the rebel government. his sympathies were openly with the south, but, as this was the general feeling among the citizens, no one attached importance to the captain's personal sentiments. between my infatuation for geno and the sense of duty, i had a troublesome old time of it in the weeks and months and years that followed this first evening in the wells home. it's pretty much the same old story of love at first sight and trouble forever after. i was politely invited to join the family circle in the parlor after tea. the mother was as youthful in her happy manner as her daughters. the genial captain permitted himself to be prevailed upon by the younger children to sing one or two comic songs, which were received with hilarious applause. the three daughters vied with the others in their polite efforts to entertain such a dull boy, as i must certainly have become after encountering the apparition of geno that evening. jimmy wilson's presence seemed to help me out a little. a group played cards, while some one banged the piano and sang "bonnie blue flag," "dixie," and, by way of a tease, "yankee doodle." the elder daughter, miss sue, was a decidedly beautiful girl, of perhaps twenty, quite lively, and perhaps a little bit of a flirt. i state this opinion generally. i did not entertain it so fully at that time as i did subsequently. miss mamie was the good girl of the family, while geno was the beauty. if i were not writing this story myself, i should be tempted to honestly declare that geno was not only the prettiest, but the sweetest, girl i ever saw, and i have seen a great many in my life. she was not tall, but a slender, graceful, womanly figure, dressed in dark blue, she required no artificial aids to her fresh young beauty. her face was sweetly intelligent, and, while not lacking in resolution, it was marked by that shyness which belongs to young girls who are well-born and bred in comparative seclusion. [illustration: geno was not only the prettiest, but the sweetest girl i ever saw.] it was decreed that geno should sit near me that evening on a low sofa, located in a corner of the parlor. all the chairs were occupied by the rest of the company, either by accident or through miss sue's propensity to tease her younger sister and myself. geno, though but between fifteen and sixteen at that time, was, in her manner, quite as easy and winning as her elder sisters. she sat beside me on the sofa, her luxuriant, dark hair bewitchingly plaited in a roll over her head, wearing a low-neck dress, short skirts, while her bare arms gracefully held a guitar, on which she skillfully played the accompaniment and sweetly sang the old, old spanish serenade, _juanita_. (i advise the young ladies to get a guitar and practice on this song; it will catch a boy every time.) it was that _song_, and the beautiful, large, dark, expressive eyes of this dear little girl that put me in old capitol prison. i was a "goner" from that moment, and have never gotten entirely over it in all these years. i do not say it boastingly at all, but for a truth. i believe i should at that time have felt more at my ease if i had been "scouting" or sitting around a camp-fire with rebels instead of beside the little girl whose dress touched me. it was a clear case of love at first sight. the wells family were natives of my own state, having been embargoed during the war because of the father's steamboat interests on the river; and thereby hangs another tale not pertinent to this narrative, which i hope, subsequently, to give to the world. i had been introduced to the family as a civilian employé of the military railway, and had been able to present some flattering letters of introduction from mr. john w. forney, mr. covode, and other prominent pennsylvania gentlemen. i was, of course, made to feel quite at home. i may as well admit frankly i was about geno's house more than duty warranted; so much so, indeed, that the amiable mother must have become tired of me. i seldom went to the railroad headquarters, and i had lost all interest in the capture of richmond and in capitola. of course, i felt obliged to make an appearance of reporting for duty to the railroad office occasionally. with a desire to learn something of the probable advance to richmond, i had spent considerable time about the provost-marshal's office, where i had become quite well acquainted with a young officer on detached duty. his interest probably sprung from having seen me in the company of the pretty girl, with whom he desired to become acquainted through me. on the occasion of one of these visits, i was questioned quite closely by another of the staff officers about the politics of the wells family, and especially of the sympathies of the ladies for confederate officers. perhaps i was not in proper frame of mind to dispassionately discuss this question of geno's family affairs with a strange officer, and it is probable that i somewhat rashly resented the supposed impertinence. i was informed that it was through the usual gossipy information volunteered, by some unfriendly unionists of the town, that this officer at headquarters had learned that captain wells had been engaged in blockade-running for the rebels. i exclaimed that i knew better; that my relations with the family were of an intimate character; that captain wells was a native of my own state; that all his daughters had been born and educated in the wyoming valley, and that he was in virginia solely and only because his business of steamboating had embargoed him there, and he had chosen to remain himself and sacrifice his boats, rather than abandon his family. all this was said in a positive manner, and with probably a little more animation than the subject justified. it had, however, the undesirable effect of bringing out prominently a trifling affair that occurred in connection with the family, which i must relate, as part of my experience which soon followed, just to show that "trifles light as air, are to the jealous, confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ." it will be remembered by the old soldiers that, early in the war, it was the custom to display flags promiscuously wherever they could find a place to string one in a virginia town. [illustration: refusing in her very decided manner to walk under "that flag."] soldiers who were in fredericksburg with mcdowell, in , will know that over the main streets of the town hung innumerable flags, so that the natives must either walk under the flag or stay indoors altogether. miss sue wells, like most bright girls of her age who lived in the south, was fond of tormenting our officers, "just for fun, you know." she insisted, in the company of union officers, that she was a rebel, but i was quietly informed by the family that, when the confederates first had possession of the town, she was a union girl to them. on this and several other questions miss sue and i differed quite decidedly. the sequence and truthfulness of this story compels me to say here that miss sue and i quarreled all the time (after i had become fairly established in the family). one day, while walking with her along the main street of the town, we encountered one of the numerous flags that were suspended over the sidewalk. miss sue put her little foot down (and i know positively that she had a little foot), refusing in her very decided manner to walk under "that flag!" what could i do? the street was full of soldiers and officers, whose attention was being attracted toward us by my taking her arm and attempting to force her to accompany me under the flag. i explained that there were flags on the other side of the street, flags to the right of us, flags to the left of us, and flags every place; that we would not dare to go around it; but the more i talked and urged, the more contrary she grew, and to prevent a further scene on the street, we retraced our steps. that little act on the streets of fredericksburg, in the summer of , is on record to-day in the war archives as part of the specifications in a charge of disloyalty against myself, on which i was subsequently arrested and confined in old capitol prison. it is a shameful fact, that my early record for the union at fort pickens, and the subsequent year of service with a rope about my neck, was, for a short time, completely shadowed by this silly performance with a young lady in fredericksburg. not only this, but it was, perhaps, the indirect cause of this young lady's father's banishment from his home and the confiscation of his property. the officer who had reminded me of this incident undertook to give me some advice as to my association or intimacy in a rebel family. he further astonished me by saying they had information of a piratical scheme being hatched, which had for its object the seizure of some of the regular line of steamers plying on the chesapeake bay, and captain wells was to act as pilot. the officer explained to me further that the plan, as they had learned of it, was for a party of rebels, disguised as passengers and laborers, to board one of these steamers in baltimore, and, after she was out in the bay, at midnight, they were to throw off their masks, seize the boat, confine the officers and, under the pilotage of geno's father, run her into rebel waters as a prize. this was indeed startling intelligence, that for a moment staggered me. i realized that a more suitable person to do the work could not have been selected than captain wells. the officer said, as they had no proof of this at all, he had mentioned it to me with a view of having me look the matter up; that my relations with the family were of such a character as to enable me to get on to the real facts. i left the headquarters feeling very much depressed. after another enjoyable evening spent at the wells house following this conversation at provost headquarters, i went to my quarters quite disturbed in heart and mind as to my duty. with the sweet voice of "juanita" still ringing in my ears, and the memory of her beautiful eyes seemingly appealing to my tenderest sympathies, i went to bed with my head in a whirl, and dropped into a restless sleep without having settled the question in my own mind satisfactorily as to her father's guilt. there was no question as to the captain's being entirely competent to pilot or even command such an expedition, and i may as well cut this story short by the frank admission that, had he not been the father of a very pretty girl, i would have jumped at the same conclusion as the officer. i was, however, unwilling to believe that the father of such an interesting family, all of whom had been born and reared in pennsylvania, would become the leader of a piratical gang. i concluded at last that i would postpone any action, for a while at least. i could do this with the better grace, as i was not specially engaged in secret service at that time. i rather relished the truth, too, that the failure of the secretary of war to recognize my former services relieved me from any obligation to act as "spotter" for the pinkerton detectives. but after having slept over the matter, and while enjoying a walk the next morning among the neighboring camps, over which floated the "emblem," i suddenly regained my senses, for a little while at least, and made up my mind that it would be worse than traitorous for me, by my silence and apparent association, to permit those maryland sympathizers to go on and mature a plan to hire a gang of baltimore plug-uglies to play the pirate on unarmed vessels on the bay, within sight of our armies. i could, at least, put the officials on their guard. i walked back toward my "office," where i briefly wrote the rumor as it had, without my volition, been detailed to me, and at once put the letter in form to reach mr. covode through the improvised mail service then existing between washington and the army of mcdowell. i felt better for having done this much. i had also advised mr. covode that i was in a position to follow up the matter from this clew, and, if it could be confirmed, i would give the information directly to himself, and no one else. i expect, too, that i was indiscreet enough to have taken this opportunity to ventilate my own rather fresh opinions of secretary stanton; because just then i was smarting under his seeming indifference to and neglect of my services and claims. i am sure that my letter contained some unnecessary criticisms on mr. p. h. watson, assistant secretary, as well as the secret service corps, which was under his direction, and maj. eckert, of the telegraph corps. this letter was intended as a private communication to my friend covode, and i had particularly cautioned him not to permit certain war department influences to get hold of the rumors, as i wanted to work it out myself. i learned subsequently, to my sorrow, that this personal letter, containing both the information and the criticism, was sent to the war office at once as an important paper. anybody will see that it was not only a mistake of my own to have written in this way, but also of mr. covode's to have shown it; but it was one of that statesman's "privileges" to mix things up. it probably never occurred to him--as i afterward heard--that the principal effect of the criticisms, coupled with the "information," would be to impress upon the war department officials the suspicion that covode had employed me as one of his agents to play the "spy" on our own officials, for the benefit of the congressional committee of the war. i was not very much bothered about the consequences of such things at that time. i was in love, which will account for a good many of my mistakes. when i went to my newly-found home, at capt. wells's house, the evening of the same day on which i had written and mailed this letter, i was received so kindly and courteously into the house by the genial captain himself, that i began to feel that i had been guilty of an awfully shabby trick in having reported, even privately to mr. covode, a private conversation with this staff officer in regard to mine host. indeed, i was feeling so uncomfortable over what seemed to have been an ungracious return for favors received, that i took the first opportunity to get out of the captain's presence, and, in the seclusion of my room that night, i inwardly resolved that i would, if possible, attempt to modify my report by another letter to follow the first. the evening was spent in the little parlor, as on the many previous occasions. i was treated as one of the family, and entertained in the most agreeable manner by the accomplished ladies of this happy household. each night we had music. of course, juanita, with the guitar, accompanied by geno, became one feature of all others that was always so charmingly attractive to me. the captain himself sang a number of comic songs with good effect, while the elder daughter, miss sue, exerted herself in a pleasant way to create a little fun for the company at my own and geno's expense. col. hoffman, mr. wilson and myself furnished the only audience, while a happy-faced, brisk little mother supplied the refreshments, and made us all feel at home. this general attempt at a description of one evening must suffice for the many, many happy days and evenings that i spent in fredericksburg during the months of mcdowell's occupation of that country. as i have previously stated, i could furnish the material for a romance based on wonderful facts connected with my different visits here that would make a large-sized book in itself. this is simply a blunt narrative of fact. this is an absolutely "true love" story, and i am giving correct names and actual incidents, realizing that i may be talking to some of the survivors of mcdowell's army, who may have been "thar or tharabouts". the colonel hoffman referred to above was in command of the regiment that had control of the town at this time. the colonel having known the wells family in the north, was glad of the opportunity to meet them, and during his stay in town lived with them in the house with mr. wilson and myself. his regiment had been recruited somewhere in the neighborhood of elmira, new york. as soon as i could see the colonel alone, i took the opportunity to tell him the story of the captain's alleged complicity in the chesapeake bay piracy. to my surprise and gratification, he blurted out rather savagely: "i don't believe a word of it. why, i've known frank wells all my life. no one at home ever accused him of any such traits of character as this. why," continued the colonel, with a show of disgust, "it's impossible. he couldn't be a disloyal man; he comes of puritan stock, from away back. i've seen myself a family tombstone up in long island which shows that his ancestors were buried there as early as . why, boy, they came over in the mayflower." this seemed to settle it with colonel hoffman, but he added, in an explanatory way: "i suppose it's one of those 'unionists' stories. every dog who has a grievance against his neighbor, in war times, runs to the nearest provost-marshal to get the army on to his enemy. wells came down here to run his boats on the rappahannock; that was his business. he tells me that he, with a majority of the citizens here, did not believe there would be a war, or that virginia would go out of the union, and, therefore, he did not attempt to get away until it was too late. the confederates wouldn't let him take his boats north. when our fellows got there, he ran his boats below town to prevent the rebels burning them, as they did all the rest; and when the gunboats came up the river they allowed a lot of rough sailors to seize and confiscate his boats. their object was prize money, and it is probably to their interest to create an impression that he was disloyal, that they may secure this money. i've told frank he ought to resist this, but he is mad about it; swears they are robbers and thieves; and it is likely he and the girls have given offense in this way to some of our officers." the colonel's decided talk fully confirmed me in the belief that the story of the captain's complicity was the outcome of some personal grievance. feeling that i had been guilty of a mean action, in reporting the names to mr. covode, i sat down and wrote him the second letter, retracting all that the first contained, and added that the mistake arose from the desire of some enemies of mine, or the captain, to get me mixed up with the war department. i do not remember just what i did write, but if the reader will put himself in my place at that time, or try to realize what an enthusiastic, love-sick boy would be liable to write under such circumstances, in defense of his intended father-in-law, you will be apt to reach the conclusion that i do now, that i put my foot in it badly. unfortunately, i did not mail the letter in time to overtake the first one. i was delayed by engaging myself to accompany the ladies the next day on a visit to the grave and monument of the mother of general washington. as all know, the mother of president washington lived, died, and is buried in this historic old town. the old house, or all that is left of it, still stands on one of the streets. the tomb and monument is situated on rising ground some distance in the outskirts. most of the soldiers of the army of the potomac have visited this spot, at least all who were interested in such matters did, who were about fredericksburg, and it will not be necessary to describe it. it was arranged that we should make a select picnic party of our visit to the tomb of the mother of our country, and, as we expected to make a day of it, one day's rations for a dozen, composed of the usual girls' rations of sweet cake and sour pickle, were packed in a big lunch basket. the picnic was a pleasant affair, of course, because geno was there. for the time being i had entirely forgotten or, at least, lost interest in the letter of explanation which i had intended to send to mr. covode on that day, as well as everything else but geno. on our return through town that same evening, i saw for the first time a new york regiment in full zouave uniform marching in their cat-like or tip-toe step, carrying their guns in a graceful, easy manner as they marched along in their picturesque style. the band played and, seemingly, the whole regiment of a thousand bass voices sang "john brown's body," as i have never heard it since. the effect upon our own party and the few loyal citizens was magical, and i leave the reader to imagine the sensations of the rebel occupants of the houses along the line of march. the shades were closed--they always were--but that did not entirely conceal a number of bright-flashing eyes, that one could always find on close inspection peeping through the cracks. after relieving my mind by sending the letter in the evening i turned in to enjoy myself freely in the society of the ladies, and became so much immersed in the pursuit of this new-found delight that i lost sight of all other business. every day became a picnic and every evening a party. one day, while loafing about my office down at the depot, i observed a strange-looking fellow hanging about. every time i would look toward him i discovered his eyes had been upon me. he was not a good spy, or detective, because he at once gave himself away by his too naked manner of observing things. i got on to him at once, because he did not seem to do anything but shadow me. there was also a telegraph office at the depot, the wire extending, i believe, only as far as the railroad was operated, to aquia creek. i had not met the operator personally, and, as had been my invariable practice, i had carefully concealed from all strangers, even friends, the fact that i was also a sound operator. i knew that neither the detective nor the operator suspected me of being an operator. as soon as i discovered that a suspicious watch had been put upon me, it stirred me all up, and served most effectively to recall me to some sense of the duties or obligations that were expected of me. for the day or two following i passed more of my time within the hearing of the telegraph instrument and less in the parlor of captain wells. one morning i saw the pinkerton detective hand a piece of paper to the operator, who quietly put it on his telegraph desk. i had to wait a long, long time, and was forced to manufacture a good many excuses for lying around the office so closely. there is something which i cannot explain that instinctively seems to satisfy one of certain conditions or impressions of another's mind. in modern mind-reading a telegraph operator has a very great advantage over any of the professional mind-readers, from the fact that, by a simple contact of the hand to any part of the body, the telegraph operator can telegraph by silent taps or touches or by simple pressure of the hands the characters of the telegraph alphabet, and thus spell out rapidly any word. perhaps this fact will account for some of the recent phenomena in this direction. as i have said, i was satisfied in my own mind, instinctively, as it were, that this fellow was a war department spy on captain wells and, perhaps myself, and i was just sharp and cunning enough when my blood was up to determine to beat him at his own game. he walked off some distance while i hung to the office, apparently very much interested in reading a copy of the christian commission army bible, which had found its way into the office there. i heard the operator call up his office, and, after doing some routine railroad business, he sent the message to some one of the chief detectives in washington, which was, in effect, as nearly as i can remember, a sort of report or excuse for the failure to arrest a certain party, because he was absent that day, but was expected to return at night, when the arrest would be made. of course i saw that i was not the party referred to, because i was not absent. it did not take long, however, to find out, after some investigation and private talk with the operator, that mr. pinkerton had sent a man down there to look after the matter referred to in my letter to covode. of course covode had indiscreetly rushed to the office and presented my letter, without once thinking of the severe reflections on the officials, or in anyway considering my interests. he only thought of the proposed scheme to get possession of the steamers. i suppose that he felt in his honest, patriotic heart that it must be thwarted at once. that's the way mr. covode did things. he told me subsequently that he felt that my letter would show stanton and watson that i was a valuable man. but i was not willing that the detectives of pinkerton should have the credit of working up this plan, and, aside from little personal feeling against the pinkerton spy and my sympathies and sentiment for the father of geno, i at once determined to defeat their aspirations; and i succeeded--to my own subsequent discomfiture. determined to prevent the arrest of geno's father, because i believed him innocent, and realizing that i was responsible for the espionage that had been placed upon the family, and without a single thought as to the consequence to myself, i went quietly from the telegraph office to the wells house, only a few blocks distant. geno smilingly welcomed me as she opened the door (she had learned to look for my coming, i have since thought,) and to her pleasant greeting i abruptly demanded, in a tone and with an agitation that must have seemed strange, "i want to see your father right away." to the polite response, "why, there is nobody at home but me; come in;" i could only say, rather nervously, perhaps, "i must see your father or your mother on private business. i can not talk to you until this matter is settled first." geno turned her big, black eyes on me quickly, quizzically, looked into my heart, seemingly satisfied herself that i was very much in earnest, she observed, with a smile: "you can see father to-night, if you wish." "i must see him before to-night. where is he?" my animated manner, or perhaps urgent demands in the hallway, had attracted mrs. wells's attention in an upper room. making an appearance at the head of the stairway, she asked, pleasantly: "what in the world is the matter with you?" "oh, nothing much. come down, please. i have something to say to you and the captain, privately." the happy mother descended only to the landing, where she halted long enough to see whether it would be safe enough for her to come any closer. geno having heard me express a desire to talk privately to her parents, had suddenly disappeared through a side door; while mrs. wells, laughingly, stepped down, and, without waiting to hear from me, said, in her gentle, motherly way: "now, my dear boy, don't you talk to me about that. why geno is only a child." "oh, no; not that--not now. i came to tell you that the captain will be arrested to-night. he must leave town at once." with a few words more of explanation, the loyal wife and mother was alive to the gravity of the situation. i left the house as suddenly as i had entered it, after cautioning them under no circumstances to admit that i gave this information, as i would be hung too. i was back at the station before they had discovered that i had been away. my plan, as detailed to covode, was to have quietly waited and watched for some tangible proofs of this rumored piracy. if they had left me alone i should have worked it up for all it was worth, and reported the result to the war department. but they jumped in and agitated the oyster, which of course closed up the oyster securely. i admit that on seeing this attempt at poaching on my premises, that i flushed the game, believing that the end would justify the means. i was only apprehensive that some member of the family might accidentally say something that would indicate that i was responsible for the escape of captain wells. i became for a day or two subsequently a most regular attendant at the department telegraph office. i learned by my telegraph facilities that this pinkerton spy had reported to his chief that "wells has not yet returned," that "the party was still absent," and later that he had "escaped south." luckily for me he did not learn of the short and interesting return visit the captain made, and, in consequence, he had no occasion to immediately investigate the captain's taking off, so that several days elapsed before he found it out. the captain did not go south to join the rebels, but, instead, went north, visiting during his exile a married daughter living in baltimore, and subsequently published a little family history, in which he gives "a friend" the credit for the warning and also for supplying a pass over the railroad to aquia creek. i found that i had made my way clear in thus "breaking the ice" when i should want to ask for geno's hand. i had killed two or three birds at one shot that day. i had thwarted assistant secretary of war watson and his pinkerton crowd in their attempt at arresting captain wells on mere rumors. i had established myself in the good graces of geno's entire family. i had prevented her father from being imprisoned. in addition to all this, i succeeded in getting myself into old capitol prison, by order of secretary of war e. m. stanton, and became a companion of belle boyd and numerous other rebel spies. but i'll have to tell some other things that occurred at fredericksburg before this unfortunate episode came to pass. i need not say that, after this episode, i felt that the fate of the entire wells family was in my hands. from that day on i was what may be slangily termed "solid" with that happy family. i believe i have mentioned the fact previously that geno was a strikingly beautiful young girl of sixteen, and that i was twenty. i may be permitted to even say, parenthetically, that there has been nothing in my adventurous life nearly so fascinating as were the summer days in which i was "isolated" in company with the little girl who lived, as it were, between the two armies, at fredericksburg. to be sure the soldiers were there, or thereabout, in force. the crack of the picket's rifle--almost the distant boom of mcclellan's battles around richmond--indeed, the smoke of war was in the air at the time, and no one knew what a day would bring forth. this was not exactly a period well adapted to sincere love-making. but no one who has known of geno could be made to believe that she could be insincere, or that anyone could insincerely make love to her. we were together nearly all the time, but i do not think we were sentimental in our talk. there was this difference to me between geno and all my other girls. in her presence it did not seem to be at all necessary to do any sentimental talking. i was always impressed by her soul-piercing eyes with the feeling that she knew it all anyhow, and it was no use in talking--i had almost written lying. i believe i told geno more of my life than i ever intended anybody to know. i simply couldn't help it. but i shall never do this subject justice until i write out the "romance of this secret love and secret service." this is only a narrative of facts. i believe i have said somewhere in this story that geno was a pretty little girl, but, at the risk of repetition, i will say that her beauty was of a kind that may not be easily described or portrayed. it was her eyes--her beautiful dark-brown eyes--that were in themselves a soul. in every man's life there is one moment, or one single memory, that is more cherished than all others. i shall have to tell of this one moment of my life, which occurred the day before i left. one pleasant afternoon i happened around to the wells house, as usual, knowing very well that geno, dressed in her most becoming of summer toilets, would soon join me on the veranda. perhaps i was a little earlier than usual at my accustomed seat; anyway, i became a little impatient at geno not putting in an appearance promptly, and thinking perhaps she might not have become aware of my presence, stepped into the hall to try to make it known to her. the windows had all been closely shaded, to exclude the bright august sunlight, giving the hallway a cool and inviting half-darkened appearance. stepping into the parlor, affecting a little cough as a signal that i was around the house, i had scarcely seated myself when my quick ear caught the sound of her footsteps as she quickly tripped down the stairway. lest i have neglected to mention it, i will say here that geno was a sweet girl, with beautiful eyes, and, moreover, she was womanly in figure and graceful in action, in that hers was of the ethereal style of beauty so aptly described by longfellow's "evangeline." and she was sixteen, while i was twenty. rising to greet her, i advanced to the door just as her lithe figure darkened it. she looked _so_ nice, and you know the parlor and hallway were shrouded by that dim, religious light one reads about. i was tempted, and, yielding to the youthful impulse, grasped both her hands in mine, and attempted to steal a kiss--the first kiss of love. i had by her quiet dignity of manner during my visit been repelled from attempting anything of a too familiar kind on such a short war-acquaintance. she quickly dropped her head, turning her face from me, while i held both hands tightly in my own, and uttered only that one little word of four letters "geno." whether it was the tone of voice, the imploring or entreating manner and earnest emphasis, or a mild reproach, i knew not. she answered not a word, but turned her pretty blushing face up to mine, while her beautiful eyes pierced to my soul, and i--i--oh! here i drop my pen, put my feet on the desk on which i have been writing this, lay my head back in my lazy chair, and with both hands pressed on my face i bring back this one blissful moment of my life twenty-five years agone, as if it were but yesterday. i can not write of it. it's a "true love" story, as the sequel will show, and none but those who have been there in war-times will appreciate it. before i could do it again she had deftly slipped away from me, and, like a frightened deer, glided into a dark corner of the parlor; from behind a chair she blushingly cast reproachful glances toward me, while she rearranged the hair that she had taken so much pains to bewitchingly do up, and that had so long delayed her appearance. there is a song, and of course plenty of melody and poetry in it, which i have frequently asked friends to sing--"il bacio"--which more aptly describes this one blissful moment than my pen can write. after this there was a sort of an understanding between us that all lovers, who have been there, will understand, and it is not necessary for me to explain. i had geno's first love; and it is a true saying that, in a woman's first love, she loves her lover; in all the rest, she loves love. i have been in love--oh, often--so many times that i cannot enumerate all, but geno was my "war girl"; and all old soldiers will agree with me that there is a something in the very memories of love and war that touch the heart in a way that is not reached by any other feeling. do not for a moment imagine that there was any attempt on the part of this truly happy family to take any advantage of the tender susceptibilities of the "boy spy." they knew absolutely nothing of my past record. "through the rifted smoke-clouds of the great rebellion" of twenty-five years ago i am relating a little love story from real life, that seems almost like a dream now, but which is the best-remembered incident of all the war to me. "the ways of fate are very diverse," and it has truly happened to me that this sweet face looked into so long since has never been forgotten in all the years that have passed or are yet to come. chapter xxvi. a scout to richmond develops important information--no force in front of m'dowell to prevent his cooperating with m'clellan--the secretary of war responsible for the failure of the peninsula campaign--our spy as a war correspondent antagonizes the war department by criticism in the papers--is arrested on a technicality and sent a special prisoner to old capitol by the secretary of war's orders. i made a scout on my own account to the very outskirts of richmond, which resulted in establishing the fact that there was no enemy in front of mcdowell. on my return to our lines, i was, as had been my usual fate, coolly received by our own officers and suspected of disloyalty. in my impulsive way, perhaps, i had too freely criticised, in my letters to mr. forney's paper, our officers for their listlessness in permitting mcdowell's army to lie idle, while mcclellan was being forced to change his base on the peninsula. at the headquarters of the regiment, or picket guard, i had encountered, i was cross-examined by every officer who could get a chance to stick a question at me. to all i had the same story, with renewed emphasis each time, that there was no rebel army between fredericksburg and richmond. the detention at so many of these subordinate headquarters, or the halting at so many stages of our return, to answer these same stereotyped questions, began to annoy me. i had been scouting for hours without a moment's rest; my nerves were all unstrung, now that i had gotten safely back. i wanted to go to the real headquarters, and tell all i knew to the general, and then go to mrs. wells' house to see geno and rest for the balance of my life. i was tired, hungry, nervous and irritable, which accounts for the unfortunate fact that i became at last resentful and, perhaps, insulting, to some of the higher officers about the headquarters and staff, who questioned my statements. [illustration: on a scout to richmond.] general mcdowell was not present; he had been sent to washington, or to the shenandoah valley i think, so that those in command had no authority, as i knew, and i felt in my nervous condition that they had insulted me by daring to doubt my story. while yet smarting under this disagreeable reception of my report, i sat down and sent mr. covode a dispatch, over the military wire, giving him in brief the results of my recent observations, and asserting positively that the army could go to mcclellan if they wanted to. those are not the words of the dispatch, but it was in substance the same story that i had told, with the addition of some bitter comments. i did not stop to think at the time that such a dispatch could pass through the war department telegraph office, and be subject to that censorship. my only object was to hasten the information to headquarters through covode, because i realized that the officers of our own army would not act upon it. i did not know then, neither did general mcclellan, or anybody else in the armies, that secretary stanton had sometime previously positively ordered general mcdowell _not_ to reinforce mcclellan. my dispatch was unintentionally a criticism on the secretary of war; and, coming as it did, in this outside and unofficial way, to covode, whose committee were investigating these things, it no doubt put me in bad shape before the secretary of war. undoubtedly, major eckert, who was then the official in charge of the telegraph office, but who in reality acted as a messenger to carry private news to the ear of the secretary, gladly availed himself of the opportunity to place me in a bad light before the secretary. as i had previously made several visits to washington and baltimore while sojourning with the family, my short absence of one day and two nights was not noticed. i may be permitted to say, parenthetically, that miss mamie wells, the second daughter, had gone to her sister's home in baltimore under my charge a few days previous to this. her war history, i venture to say here, would present one of the most attractive yet written. she was, during the bombardment and battles, a florence nightingale to both sides; and to her parents and family, in the subsequent terrible sufferings consequent upon their exposed position between the two armies, became a heroine in deed and in truth. my personal acquaintance with this remarkable young lady was confined to the few days of . the incident which is best remembered occurred while riding up the potomac from aquia creek as her escort, _en route_ to baltimore. in reply to something that i had said on the subject that was uppermost in my heart, she took occasion to say to me in a kind, sisterly way about geno, that produced a lasting effect upon me: "you must not trifle with that child." that i was sincere and very much in earnest she soon discovered, because, from her charming manner, i was impelled to tell her right there much more of my love for her sister than i had told geno herself. her smiling approval, when i mentioned my ambition to make geno an officer's wife, was: "you love like a boy, but i believe you would fight like a man." miss sue was of an entirely different disposition. she was a born coquette, and flirting was natural to her. her eyes were hazel, and, if i may be permitted to offer my advice to the sons of veterans, it is, don't attempt to flirt with a pair of hazel eyes, because it is a waste of time and dangerous. perhaps they are less susceptible than black or blue, but once trifled with, or neglected, they do not pine away in grief, but rally for revenge and take it out in scorn. i never made love to miss sue that i remember, after having met geno; but she evidently felt that i was her legitimate game, simply because she was the oldest daughter. in fact, she told me plainly that geno was entirely too young to be spending so much time with strange young gentlemen. naturally enough, i resented her advice, and talked to geno about it, but my little girl only laughed sweetly at my earnestness, and not once, that i can recall, said a single word in reply that reflected on her elder sister's judgment. geno's voice was mild, her method of speaking slow, with a charmingly hesitating manner, that made everything she said, or left unsaid, impressive. the father being absent in exile, miss sue prevailed upon the mother to allow her to "manage this affair," as she haughtily termed it. we were being restricted somewhat arbitrarily by miss sue's management, and, to get around it, i had recourse to smuggling little notes to geno through her little brother george and sister jennie. i recall now, with a laugh, with what slyness and caution geno managed this little secret service of ours. there were not any ciphers used, but geno had away of inserting quotations in french in her notes that embarrassed me, because i couldn't interpret them myself, and, of course, dare not appeal to any one else. one day we all came to grief by miss sue getting hold of one of my notes to geno, in which i impulsively intimated that the animus or motive of sue's opposition was based on the fact that she desired all the attention bestowed on herself. that was a very indiscreet thing to put on a piece of paper; but, as i have said before, i think, i was twenty and geno was sixteen. entering the parlor one afternoon, i found both the sisters sobbing and crying as if their hearts were breaking over some sudden intelligence of a dreadful character. i hurriedly asked if their father had been caught. but, to my eager interest, sue replied through her tears by taking me to task about this note. i tried to explain, but she did all the talking for an hour, and i got no chance to say a word, until she said something about geno being too young to take care of herself, when i blurted out: "geno is better able to take care of herself than you are, and i know it." that was putting my foot into it deeper than ever. it took me a week to get this affair straightened out, and i verily believe the words uttered so thoughtlessly at this moment were treasured up against me in wrath by miss sue for twenty years, though she pretended to "make up," and i kissed both of the sisters that time before we broke up the conference or love-feast. there remains in existence to-day a neatly-written, faded letter addressed to "the friend of an hour," which my sister ruthie has preserved. the smart, sharp, stinging words of this letter have served as a model for more than one communication under similar circumstances. there was this peculiarity about the wells family: they were all loyal and true to each other, and to their parents. more than one outsider has learned to their sorrow--touch one, and all of them were touched. as serving to indicate this, and to show the innocence and purity of geno, i will relate at my own expense an incident. shortly after the captain and father had "escaped" through my connivance, geno, in her sweet, hesitating voice, said to me, in reply to something i had been saying or doing: "father said to me, as he bid me good-by: 'geno, look out for mr. o. k.'" i was stunned. perhaps i was presuming too far on my being solid with the family, and, in my usual impulsive way, i earnestly resented the captain's caution, probably because i realized that he was right, and said something harsh in reply. geno looked up into my face in a surprised way, while she defended her father. i shall never forget the words and the manner in which they were uttered: "why, father knows best. i would not have him angry with me for anything." it was a lesson to me. i was angry at the moment, but i loved her all the more for this evidence of loyalty to her parents. it may be worth while to add a word of advice to the boys and girls who may read this. the good and faithful daughter always makes a good wife. don't forget it, boys and girls. to pick up the tangled love-knot in the thread of this narrative, i will say during the pleasant evening spent with the wells family, i was so happy and contented that i became wholly oblivious to everything that was going on in the army outside. it was late the next day when i walked down to the railroad office as usual, to see if there was any news for me. it was then that i received the note of warning from my brother spencer, which had come during my absence, a reference to which has been made further back in this narrative. while in or around this office or station, about which were always congregated a great crowd of officers and soldiers off duty, as well as sutlers, newsboys, etc., i was pleasantly approached by general mccallum, who had charge of all the military railroads, as the successor of colonel thos. a. scott, and who, after talking agreeably about some of the work i had previously undertaken, told me in his gruff way: "railroad and telegraph employés have been required by the secretary of war to take the oath of allegiance. all have signed but you, and i have left a blank in the office for your signature." i was an employé, and as such was perfectly willing to sign all the oaths they required, and expressed my willingness to comply at once. i found a written blank form had been prepared for me in the office. i signed it without thinking it necessary to read. when handing the paper back to the clerk, he remarked jocularly: "they have made you sign a mighty tight paper, haven't they?" it was only when my curiosity was aroused by this remark that i thought of reading over the form of the oath. i think it was what was known in the year after as the cow-catcher bond or iron-clad oath. it was purposely made strong enough to catch any supposed case of disloyalty. it contained one simple clause that at the time seemed to perplex me a little. it read in substance: "i have never belonged to any organization, or borne arms against the government of the united states, voluntarily or involuntarily." i could not conscientiously or truthfully swear to that. i was willing enough to do almost anything to get around the ugly point, that seemed like a rock in my path, without being forced to explain that i had voluntarily united with the rebel army, and involuntarily borne arms against the government. i dreaded very much putting my name to a paper which could in any event be brought up against me as a proof that i was "a perjurer." i was loyal to the core, as everybody who has read this must know; but i had--i may say voluntarily--united myself with the third battalion of rebel maryland artillery. to be sure, i was forced by the necessities of my peculiar work and the situation during my sickness in richmond, as well as prompted by a desire to further and better aid the united states government, to do this; but the stubborn fact was--i had taken their oath and i had in reality borne rebel arms. i had not told anyone in fredericksburg about this, and none of the railroad employés knew anything of my former experiences. perhaps geno had my confidence, but none of the family ever received any intimation from her of my true character. to them all i was, as sue put it, "a nice little fellow from pennsylvania, and that's all we know." i saw at the first glance of this new oath that i was in a tight place; and, in a moment of hasty impulse, prompted solely by a desire to be truthful and honorable to myself, i scratched my name from the paper. without a word of explanation to the astonished clerk, i took it to gen. mccallum, and, in a few words, explained my action, and desired him to try and find some way out of the trouble for me. he had understood in a general way something of my experiences, and when i told him my action, he agreed with me, and said that it was right and honorable in me to protect my name. further, on his return to washington the day following, he said he would report the matter to the secretary of war, and asked that i be permitted to remain in the service without being compelled to sign that iron-clad paper. i thought then that the matter was settled, and in the evening went home from my office, to pass another--only one more--of the enjoyable, happy nights, in the company of the ladies. in the meantime the leaven i had sent to washington previously, in the shape of a telegram to covode, had begun to work; so that when general mccallum got back to washington city the next day, and reported my case to the assistant secretaries, p. h. watson and general eckert, these two officials put their wise heads together, and with only the evidence in their possession, which was additionally overbalanced by general eckert's former prejudice, they came to the hasty conclusion, without giving me a chance to be heard, that "i was a very dangerous man," and so reported their conclusion to mr. stanton, whose attention was at the same time called to my reports to covode. the telegrapher at fredericksburg at that time, was a mr. gentry, of kentucky, a clever gentleman, as all kentuckians are that i have ever met. that afternoon, while lounging in the cool parlor with geno and miss sue, i was called to the door by a visit from mr. gentry, who politely informed me that he had an intimation from my brother and friends in washington that i would get into trouble unless i signed that oath. mr. gentry very kindly advised me, to use his own words, which made such a lasting impression on me that i have not forgotten them: "now, don't you be carried away by infatuation for this pretty little girl; act sensibly for the present; why, i'd sign anything, and i'm from kentucky." he was very courteous, and i felt that he had been sent after me, and if there is any one thing that i abhor it is being "led" or coddled. he knew nothing of my reasons for declining the oath, and when he desired a reply from me to telegraph back to washington, i merely said: "just tell them i won't do it. they will understand that." "but," mr. gentry interposed, "the secretary of war sends this word--that you must do it." "well, i won't do it for the secretary of war or anybody else." "what shall i tell him?" "tell him to go to ----." "no," laughed gentry, "i wouldn't like to do that." "well, tell the secretary i said so." i felt at that time that it was not mr. stanton personally who was insisting upon cornering me in this way. he certainly knew of my former services, and that i could not be disloyal if i wanted to. if he had given the subject a moment's consideration, he would have surmised the reason for my "recalcitrancy"--to call it by a big name. i believed then, and i have always entertained the opinion, that mr. eckert, through assistant secretary watson, was instrumental in creating this misunderstanding. perhaps i am mistaken, but i shall die without changing my mind on this subject. mr. gentry probably went direct to his office after his short interview with me and reported the failure of his effort to "reconstruct me." i imagine that, in his jocular manner, common to all operators, he detailed the exact conversation with me over the wire to the war department operators. i cannot think he sent my words as an official message to the secretary of war, but undoubtedly the substance had been telegraphed, and, of course, the war department telegraph spies made the most use of their opportunity to down one who was inclined to be so "independent and obstreperous." in an hour or two mr. gentry returned to the house--they all knew where to find me--called me to the door again, and, in the most feeling manner, told me privately that he had received, and at the same time held in his possession, a telegraph order from the secretary of war, e. m. stanton, to provost-marshal-general patrick for my arrest. mr. gentry very kindly kept the fact that he had received such a message entirely to himself, considerately bringing to me first the ugly intelligence. he did not say so, but i have always believed his object was to give me an opportunity of escaping. i could easily have done so without leaving any suspicion attached to him of having advised me of this intention. i had no thought of attempting anything of this kind. we sat down on the porch together while i read the order, which is to-day on file in the war office, in these words: "arrest and keep in the closest confinement, o. k., and send to washington in charge of sufficient guard to prevent any communication." mr. gentry endeavored to ease the "disagreeable duty," as he termed it, by saying that the receipt of such an order was a great surprise to him, and he felt sure there was some mistake, and that all would be righted when i should reach washington. when i realized the full purport of such an order from the secretary of war, i was almost stunned at the direful prospect. my first thoughts were of the distressing effect of such news on my father and relatives at home, who were expecting that i should receive soon a promotion from the secretary of war to the regular army. how, then, could i explain this arrest to them? i don't know now whether or not i even thanked mr. gentry for his kind thoughtfulness at the time. i hope he may be living and see from this that, after the lapse of twenty-five years, i have not forgotten his generous and thoughtful consideration for me on that hot summer day in . asking to be excused for a moment, i briefly told mrs. wells of the sudden intelligence, which she received in her motherly, sympathetic manner, with both hands raised in astonishment. without trusting myself to talk further to her or anyone else in my agitated condition, i rejoined mr. gentry, and we walked together up the hill to general patrick's office, where mr. gentry handed the order to general patrick while i stood by. after he had read the telegram, mr. gentry astonished the old man by introducing his prisoner. the general was kind, indeed he was very sympathetic, and explained that, as the order was direct from the secretary of war, he should have to give it especial attention, and see that it was executed to the letter; but he would make it as pleasant for me as possible. i was given one of the vacant rooms in the private mansion then occupied as provost-marshal's headquarters; a sentry with a loaded musket stood guard in the large hallway at my open door, with positive orders, as i was courteously informed by the officer who placed him there, not to allow anyone to see me, and, under no circumstances, was i to communicate with any person, except through himself, as officer of the guard. as there were no boats leaving for washington city from aquia creek so late in the day, i was obliged to remain a solitary prisoner, under strict order of the war department, until the following day. i shall make the story of my imprisonment as brief as may be. during all my life, it has been a close secret with me, and for the first time, i am attempting to tell the entire story, which to many of my best friends has been as a hidden mystery. the sentry in a blue uniform, with a loaded musket in his arms, stood within a few feet of me during the evening; and, while i slept on a cot, he faced about like a guardian angel, in a grum sort of way, however, that was not at all calculated to promote a feeling of sociability. in fact, his bearing rather impressed me with an overwhelming sensation that the gun he carried was loaded, and the fellow who had command of it looked as if he were asking for a chance to try it on something. he wasn't a companionable fellow, so i acted toward him as he did to me--with silent contempt; and that's the way i spent the evening. i knew very well that there were plenty of friends in town who would have called to see me in this, my time of need, if they had been permitted to do so. as it was, i was all alone in my glory, until late in the evening, when an officer, accompanied by a soldier, came to my prison door, the soldier carrying a little basket, which i was told contained my supper, which kind and motherly mrs. wells had sent to me, but not a word of sympathy or regret accompanied it. i don't know for sure, but i think that the contents had been, not only "inspected" by the officer of the guard on the lookout for contraband communications, but that the different little dainties had been sampled as well, probably to see if they did not conceal a poison. this generous and thoughtful remembrance from mrs. wells, was the only indication i received in my solitary confinement, during all that beautiful but lonely long summer evening in fredericksburg, that there were any persons outside of my four walls, except the grim old sentry. of course, i well knew that at our house there would be assembled the usual crowd of happy young folks, and their conversation and thoughts would naturally be with me in my confinement. this comforting reflection was, however, somewhat disturbed by the fear that the entire family might either have been arrested or dispersed; so that, the discomforts of my close confinement were greatly increased by this fear, until i was in a manner assured of their safety by the arrival of the daintily-served lunch. i slept that night--if i slept at all--on a bed of misery. at every turn i was made to realize that i was a prisoner--to our own side. though the officers of general patrick's staff, who had charge of me, were accomplished gentlemen, and seemed apparently to sympathize with me, i could not conceal and they must have seen my distress, they were obliged, by the strict orders they had received--as was frequently explained to me--direct from the secretary of war--to _prevent_ any communication with me. the morning following my arrest, after a hasty and solitary breakfast, i was personally visited by general patrick, who was then provost-marshal for that army, who, in the most kindly manner possible, expressed his regrets for the necessity of putting me to so much inconvenience, further explaining that, once in washington, i could no doubt get everything fixed up. he then showed me two letters and a small pocket bible that had been sent to me, but which he could not deliver to me, under the strict orders to permit no communication. when i recognized the address of one letter to be the well-known handwriting of my father, the very sight of it seemed to be like a thrust of a knife into my heart, as i at once realized how distressing to him would be the news of my arrest--my friends had been expecting in its stead a promotion, by way of recompense for my past services. the other note i knew was from geno, while the bible was the last, best gift of mrs. wells. i was assured by general patrick that they should be sent along with me to washington, in the care of the officer in charge, and he hoped and expressed the belief that i should soon be free and get possession of them. with a kind "good-by," he introduced me to captain ----, whose name i have forgotten, and a lieutenant, who would kindly accompany me to washington. the captain very considerately observed that it had been arranged that we should get out of town quietly, without attracting any attention from the crowds about the streets, who had, no doubt, heard of my arrest. to better accomplish this and avoid the depot, we crossed the river together at a ferry, in order to take the train for aquia creek from the other side, and, in so doing, we passed within a half block of geno's house, but not within sight of it. the captain who accompanied me, though always by my side or, at least, close by me, considerately made it a point to act toward me--his prisoner--as if i were merely a companion. not any of the crowd that took the train that day with us suspected that i was a prisoner. and, by the way, there was a great crowd leaving for washington about that time, caused, if i remember aright, by some bad news from general banks in the valley, or mcclellan. it was the lieutenant who was acting as the silent partner of the captain, who kept the closer eye upon me, while, at the same time, he discreetly kept himself aloof from us and did not appear at all as one of the party. i mention all this minutely, merely to show that, notwithstanding the strict orders of the secretary of war, and the close watch of the two officers, i succeeded in communicating with my friends at washington. when the overcrowded train of open freight cars and one or two passenger coaches cautiously crawled over the big trestle-work bridges, constructed by details of soldiers, between falmouth, on the opposite side of the river from fredericksburg, and reached "you-be-dam" station, near aquia creek, though only twelve or fourteen miles, it was late in the day. there was a long temporary pier at aquia creek, and a number of rough board-sheds had been erected for the accommodation of the quartermaster, commissary and other officers at this base of supplies. among these offices was located the railroad telegraph offices, which were then in charge of mr. wm. emerick, at the present time the efficient manager of the gold and stock telegraph company in new york city. in the management of the business in hand, it so happened that my captain was obliged to call in a business way upon the quartermaster, stationed here, to secure the required transportation for his party, on the boat up to washington city; and while he was showing his papers and explaining his errand, i occupied a seat that i discovered to be convenient to the telegraph office, or desk, which was located in the same room. mr. emerick did not at that time suspect that i was an operator, neither did he know that i was under arrest; so, when the attention of the captain was drawn, mr. emerick was eating his lunch outside, i sat on the edge of the rough table that was used for the telegraph instruments. without speaking a word and apparently intent on watching the captain's business, as my face was toward him, quietly, with one hand i touched the telegraph key, and deftly making use of my education as an operator, i signaled for attention. quickly, and as all operators will readily understand, in shorter time than it takes me to tell it on paper, i was recognized by the answer, i, i, g-a., which means, yes, go ahead. i sent a few words nervously to my brother operator, in effect for mr. "john covode--call at old capitol prison to see me," and signed my name. this was all done so quickly, and so quietly and effectively, that not one person present suspected that i was occupied in anything of the sort. lest i should be suspected, i left the telegraph desk abruptly, but i had the satisfaction of hearing the acknowledgment of my dispatch, in the familiar telegraph sound: "o. k." in the year following, i rode in an ambulance one day with mr. emerick from aldie to washington during the gettysburg campaign, and was amused beyond my power of description to hear mr. emerick detail the trick that a rebel spy had played on him at aquia creek. he did not detect, in my hearty laugh at his recital of the story, that i was in any way an interested party because, at that time, i was on the headquarters cavalry corps, army of the potomac staff, and wore the blue uniform. at the regular hour for the daily boats to leave aquia creek for washington, we--the captain, lieutenant and myself--were aboard and comfortably seated in arm-chairs on the hurricane deck. about p. m. we ran up past the arsenal and finally fastened to the wharf. here i realized fully, for the first time, that the captain and lieutenant were both strictly attentive to me, insisting on giving me a helping hand to almost every step through the crowds that were then rushing off the boats as soon as they touched the landings. i realized, with a sickening sensation at my heart, that i was not now free to go as i pleased, as had been my habit on many former trips up the river to washington. the officer in charge, not knowing the location of the old capitol prison, in washington, it became my duty to pilot my guard to my own prison. i believe we went along maryland avenue, or, at least, to the south side of washington, on what was known as "the island"--below the canal--and got up through one of the stone-yards that then surrounded the unfinished capitol. in there were no beautiful capitol grounds to the north and south of the building, but, instead, the whole country thereabout was occupied by the gang of stone-cutters and their piles of marble or stone debris, similar to that which surrounded the washington monument within the last few years. i steered the way in a direct course to the old capitol. when we got there, we were stopped by an armed sentry on the pavement, who called an officer that escorted us inside the hallway. here we were again detained, to wait until the commandant had been heard from. after a most unhappy wait of half an hour we were ordered to the "office." here, for the first time, i saw colonel w. p. woods, who is, i understand, a resident of washington. colonel woods was rather a young, sharp-looking man, if i remember correctly, with side-whiskers, or, as we term them, short presbyterians. he was evidently accustomed to receiving guests at his hotel, and at first seemingly paid but little attention to the new arrivals, being at the time engaged in conversation with some lady visitors. the captain produced a letter, which a young fellow, with all the airs of a hotel clerk, graciously deigned to open and read. he left his seat and whispered a word to captain woods, who left his talkative lady friends and turned his attentions to us, with as sudden an interest as if he had discovered a millionaire guest among the recent arrivals. i never knew what were the contents of the letter delivered to the captain. i presume it is on record in the war department among the rebellion records. only this much i am sure. i am not mistaken in saying that i was a special guest, and at once became the center of attraction for captain wood and his force of attendants. he gave us his personal attention, and himself took the records, and entered my arrival on his register, where they will be found to-day. the walls of the old capitol prison of the war of the rebellion are still standing on the corner of first and a streets, north-east washington, but in so altered a shape as to be scarcely recognized by the oldest inhabitants. in this famous building was a plain, oblong structure, more closely resembling a warehouse after the style of the richmond tobacco libby, than anything else that i can think of just now by way of comparison. the old building was what was known as a double house, with a large, very broad hallway running through the center of the house, extending to the back porch or yard, on the l-shaped wing--a back building on a street. in one of the four rooms that opened out of the hall, located nearest the door i think, was captain wood's office. here i was "detained" for, well, probably an hour, after the captain had bidden me a cordial "good-by," promising that when he reported my safe arrival to the secretary, on the following morning, he would endeavor to say a word of commendation of my good conduct. my heart sank within me when i realized to the fullest extent that i was a prisoner. i sat in a chair near mr. wood's desk, while he, with some others, arranged suitable quarters for me. in due time i was shown to my room, which was located in the l, immediately at the head of the back stairs that led up out of the porch. i am living in washington on the same square with the celebrated old building, now occupied as a princely residence by chief justice field, general drum, senator spooner, and, during my daily walks to and fro, i frequently pass the old window, and never once fail to look at it, almost expecting to see a ghost of my former self looking out at me. i was shown to my little eight by ten hall-room, furnished only by a soldier's cot and a chair, and being so tired, sick, and broken-hearted i lay down, and, after bitter, scalding tears, soon dropped into the sleep of innocence. chapter xxvii. old capitol prison--belle boyd, the rebel spy, a companion and friend--a disguised english duke--interesting scenes and experiences in this famous state prison--planning to escape disguised as a contraband--released on parole by order of the secretary of war. my old capitol prison experience covered about three weeks of the hottest and, to me, the most disagreeable close and sultry days of a washington summer. i was a "prisoner of state" within the walls of the ugly old building during part of the months of august and september, . to one of my active temperament, the confinement at this particular time was made doubly annoying by the knowledge we, as prisoners, were permitted to obtain, in an unsatisfactory way, of course, of the important military movements that were then going on outside. we heard, in a half apologetic way, of the abandonment of the peninsula by mcclellan, or a change of base; and this news was received inside the prison by the inmates with cheers, that sent cold chills down my spine. the locks and bars, which were always in sight, as well as the bayonets of the armed sentry, that were everywhere in view from the windows, seemed to sink deeper into my heart, when i realized that fredericksburg was also necessarily abandoned, and geno in the hands of the rebels. when the crowded inmates of the prison would form groups in the yard in the evening, and, in the wildest glee, openly congratulate each other on the prospect of their speedy release by stonewall jackson's men, when he should reach washington, i felt, for obvious reasons, that i'd rather not be "released" by that sort of a crowd. this feeling was especially exhibited after the news of general pope's disaster at the second battle of bull run, that occurred while i was locked up there. but i am getting over these three weeks in o. c. p., as we call it for short, a little prematurely. very few of the tourists who visit washington are aware that within rifle-shot of the capitol stands (in greatly altered shape, of course,) one of the most historic buildings about the city. a good-sized book might be printed about the old capitol, and yet not one-half the secrets the old walls could tell would have been told. it was within these walls that john c. calhoun, in dreadful agony of mind and body, breathed his last on earth, and it is said that his last words were not those of peace and happiness. it seems a little odd that the same brick and mortar hid from the outside world the last dreadful agony of the arch-fiend wirz. the kit carson g. a. r. post, of washington, of which i am a comrade, was organized over the same bier and in the same dungeon that contained the body of wirz after execution, in the year of the assassination of lincoln, and during the presidency of mr. andrew johnson. [illustration: in old capitol prison--i admit that i broke down completely.] i spent my first night alone in a prison on the only cot the little hall-room contained. i had thrown myself upon it when i realized that colonel woods had closed and locked the door on me, after a polite "good-night," without undressing myself. i admit that i broke down completely, and cried myself to sleep. i was simply broken-hearted when i recalled my previous dangerous services for the government; could not understand why i should be so ruthlessly and heartlessly treated by the secretary-of-war. it was my sensitive feelings that were so cruelly hurt. in the morning i wakened, a hardened, stubborn, and, if i had been given the least chance, i should have shown myself an ugly, vindictive _man_. it seemed as if the _boy_ in my nature had parted from me with those bitter tears, and when i roused myself it was with a determination to "do something"--i didn't know exactly what, but it was anything but a surrender, or to beg for my liberty. the unlocking of the doors and the tramping of feet along the hallways, with the voices of the attendants in boisterous conversation with the inmates of the other part of the hotel de o. c. p., were the sounds that first awakened me to this new life, as it were. as i had not undressed, i was out before the crowd got around, and enjoyed the opportunity of surveying my surroundings in quietness. as i have tried to explain, my room was right at the head of the hall stairs, on the l-part of the building, facing on a street north. the only window the room contained looked north, and, as there were in those days no buildings at all, of any size, in that part of the city, my view extended away across the country to the deaf and dumb asylum on the northern hills. in the low foreground were the numerous trains of the baltimore & ohio railroad, that were constantly going and coming out, the tracks being in full view. this sight of loaded cars speeding away to the north--to home and liberty--was not, you may be assured, exactly the thing calculated to make the close prisoner, who saw them from his window, feel any better contented with his prison. my first thoughts at this sight were, that i should quietly leap down the short distance from that window on to the pavement below, as it was but one story above the walk, where i might quietly glide over the open commons and "catch a train." there were no bars to the windows, and the sash was not even fastened down, because of the necessity for ventilation, so that i was able to stick my head clearly outside, but i was paralyzed to discover on the first inspection that, down on the pavement below my window, every inch was being closely patrolled by a double guard of armed sentries, while the commons, a little distance off, were occupied as the camp for the outside-guard. that's exactly the way they had it arranged in , and, i also observed very soon after my arrival, that there was an inside-guard pacing up and down the hallway in front of our open doors. the outside sentinels did not allow _any_ one except their own officers on the pavement or street, in their front, so that communication in any shape or form was out of the question. the back stairway led out on to the porch of the l, that opened into the yard. communicating with this wooden porch at one end was the front hall, which led through the center of the main building out on to first street, to the west. it was modeled precisely on the same old-fashioned plan of a large farmhouse or country hotel. a main building, divided in the center by a hall which opened on to the big back porch. as if to further complete the comparison with a country tavern, i found, on going down stairs that first morning, that the porch was provided with a number of wash-bowls and long towels on rollers, at which the guests were expected to make their morning toilets, assisted by that usual scraggy old comb attached to a yard of string, tied to each post of the porch, that contained, of course, a looking-glass which distorted one's face so that i imagined, at the first sight of myself, that a single night in jail had made me look like a horrible old murderer. meals were served by the proprietors, of course, but i was politely informed by an officer, in answer to some question about the rules and regulations of the house, that those who preferred it could select a caterer and have special meals served from the outside. i concluded to be a prisoner on the european plan, and joined a mess of two or three other hail-fellows-well-met, to whom i was introduced by the officer. there were no restrictions placed on my intercourse with this mess, though we were informed that the trio would not be allowed to have any communication with prisoners in the other part of the house. i did not want to see anybody that i had ever known before--not even my brother, who was then at the war department, and to whom i had secretly telegraphed to meet me with mr. covode. there is no other explanation of this feeling except an admission that it was a cranky freak i indulged in to the fullest extent. after my first breakfast, while in my little room engaged in looking out of the window at the shifting trains, i was surprised by a first call from a lady. one of our mess, whom i will call english, because he was an english "spy"--or had been arrested as being in communication with the rebels--politely knocked at my half-open door, saying, in the most polite way, for he was a genuine english gentleman: "miss belle boyd desires to meet you, sir," and, before i could recover from my surprise, the door was darkened by the lithe and graceful figure of a neatly-dressed young lady, who had presented herself to my vision so suddenly as to suggest a spirit from the other world. it was belle boyd, the celebrated female rebel spy. i had heard of her in connection with her daring horseback raids about winchester and in the valley with stonewall jackson and jeb stuart, but did not have any idea that she was to be a "fellow" prisoner with me. without any embarrassment at all, and as if sincerely anxious to welcome me to the prison, she stepped forward smilingly and, with hands outstretched, took mine in hers, as she said: "i was anxious to see who it was that was here by stanton's express orders." i don't just remember now how i did act, but it's most likely that it was in an awkward, embarrassed manner, that caused miss belle to say, reassuringly: "oh, you are among your friends now, and i'm glad to know you." to my immediate relief the conversation was further carried on by english and miss boyd in a strain which, while it gave me an opportunity to recover myself, at the same time put the thought into my brain that i'd "catch on," as we say nowadays, and find out what this racket in the spy line was. here were two rebel spies, with whom i had been put in confidential communication, and it flashed across my mind in an instant that i would make some good come of the unpleasant surroundings and put myself in such a position that the war department would be glad enough to acknowledge my services. there was not a shadow of a doubt of belle boyd's sincere interest in me. she said: "i was in c. i. woods' office last night when i heard him tell the officers on duty: 'you must not overlook the fact that the young man in the hall room, by himself, is here under the _express_ orders of mr. stanton.'" as miss boyd made this observation in her own positive style, her lip curled with scorn at the mention of mr. stanton's name. she said further, in words that i have never forgotten: "there was something else said in an undertone that i could not gather, but i determined that i would see the prisoner who was under mr. stanton's express orders." this was my introduction to belle boyd, and to this indorsement of colonel woods and mr. stanton i am probably indebted for the very warm and kindly interest this famous female spy afterward showed toward me. as i remember her appearance at that time, she was of light, rather fair complexion, and i think her hair was inclined to be a strawberry blonde. while she was not strictly a handsome woman, there was something in her manner that was very attractive. she reminded me of maggie mitchell in her younger days. she was graceful, and, if i remember her right, has been accorded much praise for her winning ways and easy bearings. though she was older than myself at that time, and the center of attraction among the distinguished prisoners, all of whom seemed anxious to win her favor, i flatter myself that the famous female spy took quite a fancy to me. the gentleman whom i have called mr. english was rather older than either of the little coterie that i had been invited to join. he was one of those fellows who have been everywhere and know everything; in short, a regular adventurer, after the style of the english novel. he was educated--at least, we all thought so--because he talked so glibly and knowingly about every conceivable thing, and incidentally mentioned some of the palaces he had visited, how he had been entertained by royalty. this, with an occasional hint as to the character of his family friends, and the accidental exhibition of a genuine coat-of-arms, convinced miss boyd and myself, in our inexperience with this sort of thing, that our friend was, of course, a disguised "juke," and from that time forth he was treated with the greatest deference by us, and ate the best part of our rations. fortunately for me, he and miss belle boyd did all the talking for the first few days. i became a quiet and admiring listener, had plenty of time in which to gather myself up, so as to be able to formulate my own story, when it should be called for. but this everlasting englishman talked so incessantly, and so agreeably, too, about his wonderful adventures, "in the bush, you know," while in the east india service, and in the crimea, that, as i said, even belle boyd, who was a great talker, had but little show. our friend could sing, too, as well as talk; each evening the prisoners assembled in the "court-yard," while our glee club, on the balcony above, which was something like a stage, led by the englishman, who bossed everything, you know, furnished entertaining music. we had every song in the whole list well rendered. it is easier to mention what was _not_ sung than to begin to tell all that were given by this improvised club. among those we never heard was the star spangled banner, and kindred airs. we had dixie for reveille, dinner and tea, and it was dixie for a doxology at taps. we had regular taps and hours in o. c. p. just as they have in camp outside. at bed-time everyone was made to "douse his glim" with as much strictness as if we were all aboard a man-of-war at fort pickens. while i played the rebel inside the prison for a purpose, because, as i have said, i determined the first day not to beg off, and it came sort of natural for me to ventilate a little against stanton, i became awfully bored by the everlasting rebel talk, and especially so at the englishman's predictions, that we would all become willing "subjects of her majesty before long." i must do the most violent rebel prisoner the credit for resenting this sort of talk, every time it was broached in o. c. p. one evening the englishman was, as usual, entertaining the assembled crowd with his melodious bellowing of "brittania rules the waves;" he could do that song up in the most approved operatic style; indeed, my later judgment is that the fellow must have been an opera singer among his other accomplishments. he sang this beautiful song standing before the prisoners in the most effective stage style, expecting, as a matter of course, to be applauded and encored at the end of the act. instead of that, however, in a quiet, slow-speaking voice, i suggested involuntarily: "how about the monitor and merrimac?" the question seemed so apt, and put in such a sly way, that it seemed to act as a match that exploded a slumbering mine. the englishman never before had such applause, accompanied with loud laughter. it was a continuous "howl" for a few minutes. we retired that night, laughingly discussing the englishman and the monitor. the incident served to break up the singing services, and after that we heard less of england. it also shows that, even among the united states rebel prisoners in the old capitol prison, in , there was a smoldering or banked-up fire of genuine patriotism yet burning, that only needed a little stirring or poking up, to cause it to break out into a great flame. i will not burden this narrative with this englishman's story. his history, and especially his secret services for the rebellion, as he related it every day in the three weeks that i was obliged to listen to his everlasting talk, would, to use a common term, fill a book. he was evidently enamored of miss boyd, and the plans of these two rebel spies, after they should be released, were from day to day discussed in my hearing. belle boyd's operations as a spy, had been carried on principally in the valley, where i was not at all known. during our many hours of confidential chat together, i learned from her, under pretense of expecting to use the information in getting south, when i should "escape," the names and location of those people along the upper potomac and in washington, who could be depended upon as "our friends," or as we called them in those days, "rebel sympathizers." the list was extensive, and embraced some washington "officials." if my services had not resulted in anything else, this information alone, which i gained as an involuntary spy, was of sufficient importance to compensate for all my troubles. of course, it will be understood here that belle boyd never once suspected my true character. she had heard me denounced by the officials of the prison as a "dangerous man." indeed, without egotism, i may be allowed to say that, at that particular time, i was looked upon by the prisoners and attendants as a "remarkable character," to put it modestly. i did not suspect at this time that i was the object of so much quiet rebel homage and attention, else i might have conducted myself differently, and exhibited some vanity over the reputation i then enjoyed. as it was, i was set down as one of the quietest, least troublesome of all colonel woods' guests. that was my old capitol prison record in brief; and i don't know now whether i should boast of it or not. probably i do not deserve any credit at all for the simple facts were, that i was so sick at heart, and yet so stubborn in disposition, that i had neither inclination or desire to speak a word to _anybody_, and wanted to be let alone. my brother called to see me the second day after my arrival, accompanied by some officious fellow from general eckert's war department office, whose name i have forgotten. when colonel woods personally called me down to his office, he said, in a kindly way, that my brother and a friend had called, and that, out of respect for us all, he would permit us to have a quiet interview, without any show of guards or the usual censorship of official attendants. i thought at the time that this was very kind in colonel woods, but i changed my mind after the interview had ended. as i walked into the room, my brother stepped up to shake my hand, but the poor fellow broke down completely and could not utter a word. his exhibition of feeling surprised and, of course, affected me, and for the moment i more fully realized the effect that imprisonment was even then having on my father and friends in the world outside. with this came a reaction in an intense bitterness, engendered by the knowledge that i was being at least outrageously treated, so that i became in a moment, even in the presence of my heart-broken brother, as cold and apparently as indifferent as the worst rebel inside. it will be seen that this unjustifiable imprisonment had changed my whole nature for the time being. it had soured me, as it were, with the war department administration (but not with the country), as completely as a thunderstorm would have turned a glass of sweet cream into a cold thick mass of clabber. the young fellow who accompanied my brother commenced to do the talking, expressing in his kindliest way, but in a drawling nasal tone, peculiar to a down-east man who affects the moral-reform style, that has had the effect of setting me on edge ever since against this class of men, his "sincere regret at my unfortunate condition." his tone and manner not only put me on nettles, but his first proposition was, "now, my dear boy, the best thing you can do, for your brother and yourself, is to freely confess to----." that's all he said; he didn't get any further, because i snapped him up abruptly, saying, "confess _nothing_; i'll do nothing of the kind, because there isn't anything to confess." "but, my dear boy, why did you refuse to take the oath of allegiance? surely if you----." "oh you go to ----. i'm not going to make any further explanations to you." then, turning to my brother, i quietly told him that mr. covode would explain matters; that i would not, if i stayed there forever, ask any favors from the war office. my brother said that this man had been sent down as a witness to my denial, and it was only necessary for me to say in his presence that i would take the oath. but, i could not honorably do that. i could not swear falsely to get out of prison, that "i had never borne arms nor belonged to an armed organization against the united states." and i would not perjure myself, even with the orders of secretary stanton, with a long imprisonment threatening me for disobedience. and i did not. to make the long story short, i went back to prison. colonel woods, who had been called into the room and heard with surprise of my refusal to be released on such a "technicality," merely laughed as he escorted me back to quarters, fully satisfied in his own mind, no doubt, that i was a "case." the englishman and belle boyd had, of course, heard one side of his story of my "bribery," and, in consequence, became, if possible, more interested than ever in the development of my interesting case. realizing from this interview that i was simply at mr. stanton's mercy, and that he was most probably influenced by the war department suckers whom i have mentioned, and who were envious or jealous of my independent and important telegraph or secret communications, i made up my mind that it was going to be a long siege in o. c. p. for me. the more i thought about it, and as each day's scanty news brought us fresh and exciting intelligence of the military doings in front of our army, i concluded impulsively that i _wouldn't_ stay very long; that i _must_ be on hand and once more outside. i would vindicate myself independently of mr. stanton's advisers. our mess was served by a caterer from the outside, as i have already explained. the meals were brought in three times a day, on a tray, by a colored boy, or a contraband. i had noticed from my room window that this colored boy came from that direction, and had, in consequence, learned to look out for his appearance as regularly as we got hungry, at each meal time, so that it became a daily question in our mess: "is dinner in sight yet?" the same boy brought it every day. he had to pass the quartette of guards in front of the house, and his basket was "subject to inspection" inside the hall before it could be admitted through the house. but, as a matter of fact, the inspection became somewhat of a fraud, because the hungry guards selected the best bits of everything by way of sampling the contents, so that we held so many indignation meetings and bothered colonel woods so much with protests and complaints, that he was glad enough to arrange with a "trooly loil" cook, whom he could trust to not pack any papers in our grub. in this way our boy was permitted to pass unquestioned, as he became so well known to the regular attendants. it occurred to me that it would be a good scheme to personate the colored boy, and walk out with the empty dishes, past the guard unquestioned, and so escape from the prison. looking up into the colored boy's face, i noticed that his ragged, old, white, straw-hat, always worn well pulled down over his curly head, half concealed a black face that, while it was not exactly similar to my own features, may be set down as being (with the exception of the black) about my "style," in age and general appearance, if i should black my face. playfully at first, i suggested to belle boyd a scheme of exchanging places with the boy, coloring my face, dressing in his coat and hat, and attempting to walk out with his tray. she looked at the boy, then at me, and, with a hearty laugh, declared: "it's the very thing; let's do it." mr. english was, of course, consulted, and graciously gave his assent to the undertaking, provided he was allowed to "make me up," and to boss the job generally. this suggestion was fully discussed between us during that and the days that followed; indeed, we talked of little else for a while. how to conceal the boy, inside, until i should get safely out of reach of the guards, was the most difficult part of the problem. the trouble that would ensue from my friend's complicity, if he should be detected, was also fully discussed, and a plausible way out of all these difficulties was arranged. i was to borrow or buy from the boy, his old hat and coat, and the patched pants and torn shoes i would manufacture. i was to be already blackened when he should come in, at a certain evening meal, that was usually served nearly at dark. while he was waiting on our table i was quickly to don his hat and coat, and, with the empty basket of rattling dishes, to boldly march out, as he had been in the habit of doing, into the street, and then trust to my legs for the balance. we were a long time in arranging all the details. indeed, the occupation it gave to us all helped to pleasantly pass hours that might otherwise have been distressing. belle boyd was as much interested in my outfit as any school-girl is over the dressing up of her new doll, while the englishman gave me enough instructions and orders to carry me around the world. he was certainly an adept in the business. during my three weeks at the old capitol prison, i made a number of peculiar acquaintances that were quite interesting in the year which followed. as i am only to furnish that which pertains to myself personally, i will omit the mention of any other except to record my first acquaintance with a most universally-known war character. the party to whom i refer will be recognized by every soldier, i may say without a single exception, in all the armies. i regret very much that i can not give his name in latin, but in war talk it was the "greyback," or, in plain united states--lice. these detestable things were in old capitol as thick as they only can be, and, after my first contact, i may say frankly, they stuck to me closer than a brother "for three years or during the war." this was one of the "things" that "animated" me to get out of that dirty old building, that i might rush down to the potomac and drown myself. old capitol is now a beautiful block of fine residences, containing, to-day, probably as fine and as luxurious furniture and occupied by as refined people as are in the country, but, personally, i wouldn't live in it for anything, because i feel sure the bugs are in the walls yet. the plan i proposed was entirely feasible; we all agreed on that; not one of us doubted but that i would be able to successfully accomplish the dangerous undertaking. it was dangerous only if i should be detected in the attempt, as it would certainly end in my being sent off to fort lafayette in new york harbor, where i would probably be ironed and placed in a dungeon as a dangerous character, and be kept there, too, during the war. it never once occurred to me that to have been caught in attempting to escape, or to have succeeded in doing so, would have reacted against me disastrously, to the satisfaction of those who were so anxious that i should afford them some proof by which they might be able to more fully substantiate the charges of supposed disloyalty, that they had whispered into the ear of the secretary of war. it was quite an easy matter in those days for the suckers, like woods, eckert, and the gang of pinkerton suckers, and others, who were around the war department, to poison the mind of the powers that were against any persons they may have selected as a target for their contemptible and cowardly persecution. it's a true story, well known among historians, that this was being done--in many cases where the victims were often men of great prominence and rank, that subsequent events proved to have been as loyal as the secretary himself. the englishman's story, that i gathered from his continual gabble, would make a chapter in itself. i will only mention now that he was apparently in the service of at least some official of great prominence in the english government. he told us of letters of introduction he brought to president jefferson davis and a number of the leading officers of the rebel government at richmond; from ever so many "my lords" of high degree in england. it was while endeavoring to reach richmond through the potomac blockade that he was captured, and, to his great disgust, all of his papers were "seized," as he said, "by some brutal soldiers, you know," and the vulgar officers absolutely declined to return his papers, and had actually been so preposterous as to send him under guard to "a vile prison." that's about the style of his everlasting chin--from morning until night--and the fact that his accent, as well as his foreign airs of superiority and of contempt for the yankees, necessarily accompanied the words, made him all the more disagreeable to me. the most interesting part of his story is, as he in an unguarded moment, apparently, while talking with miss boyd, who had expressed a curiosity to know why he did not attempt to escape, too, confessed that the real object and purpose of his mission in this country, as he had been instructed before leaving england by his friend, was to purposely place himself in the way of arrest and imprisonment by the united states government. his papers were not of an incendiary character exactly, i suppose, and my recollection of it now is, that they were principally letters of introduction, which were prepared by english lords with the avowed purpose of being used by the bearer in making a "case," or difficulty, on account of his english citizenship, which would give them some grounds to make a claim for his release, that would create a breach, and bring about a war, all in the interests of the southern people. this, in effect, was the story, and i took it all in very carefully. one day, to my disgust as well as personal discomfort, colonel woods brought a gentleman to my door, whom he introduced as a fellow rebel who would be compelled to share my room with me for awhile; because, as he explained, they were getting a little crowded. the party introduced to me, i recognized at once--that is i remembered seeing his face some place, but couldn't exactly place him; when colonel woods in a little further chat, intimated that my associate would no doubt be a boon companion, as he was an original rebel, he left us alone. my new room-mate was a man of thirty-five or forty years, with a face that i should now denominate as hard. he was pleasant; indeed, his manner was made especially agreeable to me. the story he told me of the cause of his imprisonment served to satisfy me--for the time being--that i had been in error in having supposed that i had ever seen him before. he said he was arrested for having been implicated in an attempt to recapture and return to virginia some fugitive slave whom he had caught in the district of columbia. he gave me a long account of the law, as it then existed--which, by the way, is the fact--that in there was a fugitive slave law in the district. as soon as my two comrades in distress heard of this associate having been thrust upon us, and dropped into our exclusive mess to become our company, their suspicions were aroused. the englishman declared that the object of putting "this person" in among us was to ascertain what we had been so thick about lately. i confess this had not once occurred to me. i was simply annoyed at being obliged to have the constant company of another person in my cramped little hall room; not that he was at all disagreeable personally, but probably because we three had become rather exclusive and wanted to select our company from among the convicts. it is likely enough that we would have resented any person's society from outside just then. when the others expressed their conviction that it was a scheme to entrap us, my eyes became opened, as i recalled again my first impression, that i had certainly seen the man before. when i mentioned this fact to miss boyd, she at once jumped to the conclusion that he was a spy on us, which opinion was shared by the englishman most decidedly, who gave us our orders as our commander to be on the _qui vive_ for him. it was thought best that we should treat him with the greatest possible coolness, but of course with decency. indeed, our englishman was so exceedingly polite and gracious to the new-comer that his assumed airs and comic actions were so amusing to miss boyd and myself that we could scarcely keep up our show of dignity. miss boyd performed the chilling process, and she acted the part so well that the poor man was frozen on to me, as the only one to whom he could talk sensibly. i talked lots to him when we were alone. the opinions, the very decided opinions, he got from me, on mr. stanton and his clerks, if repeated to his employers, would have made things more interesting for him and me too. when i became satisfied, or thought i was, and imagined that i had for my room-mate or companion a pinkerton man, who had been purposely sent in there by some of the war department officials to manufacture testimony against us, we all took the greatest delight in filling him up. the first night, when alone, i talked him to sleep. i told him all my grievances; at least, that part that i wanted the war office to hear officially. i was careful to only tell one story correctly, and that was the exact character and object of the englishman's business in this country. i saw that my listener was interested in it from his actions and questionings, so that i gave him the full details, for a purpose. i knew, or suspected very strongly, that he would make a report of it to the secretary, and i, as a victim of the pinkerton clique, was willing that they, as detectives, should have the credit from the secretary of unearthing that story. my desire was to defeat the englishman's purpose, and to benefit this government, whose officials were persecuting me when i knew that i was entitled to a reward. we made him sick; at least, the following day he complained of feeling unwell, and, under this pretense, he was allowed to go, ostensibly to the hospital, which was located in another part of the building. his name was horton or norton, i have forgotten which. i learned, in a couple weeks following, that he was the detective we had suspected him of being. when i mentioned to my brother, that i had seen him before, he told me that i had probably met him in eckert's telegraph room, at the war office, where he had been specially employed. [illustration: in old capitol prison--disguised as a contraband.] when relieved of our unwelcome guest, we set about with renewed energy to put into operation the plan we had now about matured for my escape. miss belle boyd entered into the preparations for this scheme as school-girls plan their tableaux. her quick manner, or apt way of being able to change the subject of conversation, in case of occasional interruption was, to me, a source of great astonishment coupled with admiration. one evening, by way of experiment, i was, with the assistance of belle boyd and the englishman, completely rigged out in the colored boy's clothes. corks had been gathered up and scientifically toasted, or burnt, over the lamp flame by our englishman, who handled the business so familiarly that i am constrained now to think he was a disguised showman instead of a scion of a noble family. i was dressed in the rags we had collected for the purpose, belle managing this part of the job with as much glee and interest as if dressing a bride for a wedding. she would stick a pin in here, or tuck up a rag at another place, look at me critically, order me to turn around or walk off, as if i were trying on a new dress. the englishman rubbed my face, and, after the manner of an artist, cocked his eye to get a better view of the effect of the last touch of shade, and then both would nearly explode with suppressed laughter at my ridiculous appearance. i was instructed in the best way to show all my teeth at once, duly cautioned not to speak unless i was obliged to, and drilled in the broadest negro dialect, to which i was somewhat accustomed through my long residence in the south. when all was satisfactory, after dark, the curtain was rang up and i was ushered out into the hundreds of assembled prisoners to try my disguise, by mixing promiscuously among them for a while. i entered boldly into the fun, and, with the feeling that, if detected, it would only be considered a good joke, as long as i was not attempting to use it as a means to pass the guard, i, in a happy, careless way, went through my part in such a satisfactory manner that even miss boyd and the englishman, who were intently watching the play, involuntarily applauded me every time i happened to do a piece of silly business that tickled them. as an amateur actor, my debut on that sort of a dangerous stage was satisfactory to the two patrons who were managing the "bringing me out." i stepped up to miss boyd, who had been standing on the balcony watching the play, bowed low, and, in as broad a dialect as i could muster, requested her order for breakfast. she, in her quick way, had a smart reply: "sam, you ugly, good-for-nothing nigger, tell your master to use a scrubbing brush on you before you come to me again." this, with some other unkind observation, which miss boyd addressed to the englishman, as to the "villainous expression of that nigger's face," served to wind up the fun for me, when, at the first opportunity, i got behind my door and very quickly changed my color and clothes. as an experiment, it was a complete success; so satisfactory that we agreed that there would be no trouble in my being able to pass the guards in this disguise, provided i could keep a stiff upper lip, and not become so nervous as to excite any suspicion. i was willing to risk that part of it. a day was set, which was to be saturday evening of that week, only two days distant, for me to make the attempt. i had minute directions from belle boyd as to the location of her rebel friends--in maryland and in washington--who would furnish me assistance in getting back to the rebel lines. of these i made a careful mental note, and also procured from the lady some short notes of introduction. if i had gone into that miserable prison as a union spy, with the object of gathering information from an intimate association with the inmates, i could not have hoped to be as successful in this direction as i had been while i was acting as an involuntary spy. it so happened, and i take pleasure in recording it, as something almost supernatural, or in the line of that providence that seemed always to be with me, and to control my actions at the right time, that at the very time i was arranging all these details in my room, preparatory to an escape in the evening, a visitor was in the prison waiting to see me. as i have so often said, while in the prison i had positively and even stubbornly declined to ask any consideration at the hands of the secretary of war or his whelping advisers. this singular feeling i shall not attempt to excuse now, simply stating the facts. it was a mistake; but my whole life seems to have been made up of mistakes. the effect of it was to estrange from me even my best friends, and my brother who, on account of the confidential relations he held in the war telegraph office, was afraid to become too openly interested in my case. rather to my surprise, i was notified on this saturday afternoon by one of the regular prison attendants that i was wanted in colonel woods' office. of course i suspected at once that our little game had been found out, and that i was to be called upon for an explanation. this subject of escaping had been in my mind so much lately that i could not for the time think that anything else was probable. as if further to confirm my suspicions, the attendant who brought the summons to me said, in his polite but positive way, "i am ordered to stay with you, and you are to take anything you have along, as there is to be some change made in your case." i had not brought anything with me to the prison in the way of baggage, and had really less to take away, excepting the greybacks, which we had always with us. my only baggage was my light wearing apparel, with the bible which mrs. wells had given to me. the purpose in thus suddenly summoning prisoners to headquarters was to prevent their relieving themselves of anything incendiary which a search of the person might have disclosed. my request to be permitted to see miss boyd was politely refused by the attendant, who explained his refusal by saying, his orders were to take me at once to the office and to prevent any communication. i saw that it was no use to reason or argue with that new hampshire yankee--he had his orders and was going to obey them to the letter--so, gathering up my coat, slipping it on nervously, and, donning my hat, i was at his side, and in a few minutes more was inside colonel woods' office. to my astonishment, i saw my brother and some stranger seated in the office chatting cheerfully with colonel woods. the greeting of spencer on this occasion was so entirely different from the first visit, when he had involuntarily broken down on seeing me, that i was further surprised by his clapping me on the back, in his old-time brotherly way, and saying, "well, boy, we are going to take you away from here." i don't know what i said or did; probably the first feeling was one of disappointment that i was to be deprived of the fun of escaping; but, quickly realizing the fact that i had almost overlooked that there was a world outside, i joined pleasantly in the greetings until it was explained that there were some little preliminaries to be arranged, in the way of signing some papers. when my brother's friend spoke up in explaining this, and observed that the secretary was "disposed to be lenient in my case," a feeling of resentment came over me, which might have broken out in some expression, if my brother had not whispered: "father wants you to go home, and says covode will arrange everything right there." the mention of my father, and a request from him has, under all conditions and circumstances of my checkered life, been respected, and, if possible, complied with. it has been my observation, too, that i have never made a mistake while acting under his advice, and, also, that i have always found it disastrous to disregard his injunctions. in this case my father's simple request had more effect than the secretary's mandate. an examination of the little papers that the messenger from mr. stanton presented to be in duplicate, showed at a glance that it was simply a parole of honor, without any conditions or penalties, by which i agreed _not to go south of a certain point_, until _authorized or released from the parole_. knowing that i could secure the necessary release through my friends, and, after a word of kind advice by colonel woods, i attached my name to the paper in duplicate, took one with me, and walked out of the door a free man, with my gratified brother, while the other copy was taken to the war department, and is _on record there to-day_, as a proof that i was in the old capitol prison during this time, as stated. chapter xxviii. fired out of old capitol prison--"don't come here again!"--my friend the jew sutler--out in a new rig--at the canterbury theatre. i was fired out of old capitol prison as suddenly and unexpectedly to myself as i had been run into the old trap. when i said something to the officials about my own expenses, the colonel handed me a copy of the parole, saying in a jocular manner: "there is your receipt in full; that paper clears you. get out, now, and don't come back here again." i went out with my brother and his companion, first to a "haberdashery," kept by a sutler jew on the avenue. he was one of the fellows whom i, as a railroad official at fredericksburg, had granted some special favors in the way of getting his goods into the army, through the provost guards. at the time, the fellow was all smiles, or rather grins, because in the position i then occupied, i had been able to secure him special facilities to carry on his profitable army trading business. i thought, of course, from the gushing way he had talked to me then, that he would be my everlasting friend, as he had so freely expressed his gratitude to me and desired to make me presents. naturally i looked him up the first thing when i discovered that my neat wardrobe had become sadly in need of replenishing during the month. i wanted some clean, fresh clothing, "cheap for cash." we found the fellow easily enough; but, dear me! circumstances had altered cases with him. when i made known my errand, and asked an outfit on small payment, the broad open-mouthed grin of the ugly fellow closed up tight as an oyster, and his face became solemn as a patriarch as he began the lamentation of jacob over his losses by the evacuation of fredericksburg. through my brother spencer's assistance, i was soon supplied with an entirely new and fresh outfit from the skin out. at first my demands for a complete rig rather struck my brother as being a little extravagant, but when i had explained that one of the tortures mr. stanton inflicted upon his victims at the old capitol was the persistent bugs that the building was infested with, he let go my arm as suddenly as if he had experienced an electric shock, sidled off from me, and, without another word of argument, fully agreed with me that the only and first thing to do was to get rid of everything--clothes and all, from hat to socks. carrying my bundle to a barber shop, i had my hair cut, took a bath, donned my new suit, and generously donated my old clothes to the colored barber. disguised in a new suit of clothes, i walked the streets of washington an hour after having left the prison. the first place i desired to visit was the war department. i felt that i had some urgent business with some of the officials up there, that i was anxious to relieve my mind of at once. my brother and his companion objected. this mutual friend called my attention to the parole, which i had carelessly left in my old clothes in the barber shop. i was gently reminded that i had agreed to go north of a certain point at once, and was not to return south of that line until properly authorized to do so by the war office. instead of going to the train that evening, i went to the "canterbury theatre," an institution on louisiana avenue as well known by old soldiers who spent a day in washington as any of the war relics. while seated in the theater, which was crowded by officers, soldiers, citizens, adventurers, sutlers, clerks, politicians, army contractors, etc., i was immensely amused when a pair of country officers, dressed up in full uniform, each wearing belt, sash and saber, strutted down the crowded aisle, their accoutrements of war rattling at every step, making so great a noise that it disturbed johnny hart, a negro comedian then on the stage, who abruptly stopped his performance, stepped up to the footlights, and addressed the noisy incomers: "say, why in hell didn't you bring your horses too?" this brought the house down, and had the effect of silencing that part of the audience that brought their camp and garrison equipage to the theatre. it was not so much of a joke, however, when a little later on an army officer led a corporal's guard, armed with loaded muskets and bayonets stuck into their guns, down the aisle, and at a lull in the performance, came to an "order arms," while this shrewd officer of the washington provost guard demanded the passes of every one in the audience who wore a uniform. i felt quite uneasy when they actually arrested and took out of the same bench on which i sat two commissioned officers who could not show passes. fortunately i was not disturbed, but i lost all interest in the show, and soon retired to quarters where the provost guard couldn't find me. the only thing i could hear from covode in relation to our own embarrassing affairs was: "oh, that's all right; just tell him that it will be all right." it was true, though not much of a consolation for me, to be reminded by some kind friends that i was not alone a sufferer by mr. stanton's arbitrary orders. even general mcclellan had been not only relieved from command of the army, but had been ordered to proceed to burlington, n. j., and there await orders. this i was told meant, in reality, exile for him in precisely the same manner as for my own humble self, though the phraseology of the order was a little different from that in my parole. i went home, where i was affectionately received into my father's house by my sisters and my aunts--i had no mother then. probably, if i had not so early in life been deprived of a mother, i would have been saved, by her teachings, from many of the hard knocks which i was receiving by way of bitter experience. my father, always kind and indulgent, seemed to think that it was our privilege and right to pitch in for ourselves, that we might learn from experience. he seldom gave his boys any of that "i told you so" advice, in the threatening manner which renders it so inoperative. i had made up my mind, while in the old capitol prison, that when i should get free again the very first thing i should do would be to enlist as a private soldier in the union army. i reasoned to myself that my services as a scout or spy, while working as a civilian in the interest of the politicians at washington, would not advance my military ambition. in fact, i had learned from some hard hits already that it was an uphill business to operate in the field as a civilian. somehow or other, all the military people were not exactly distrustful, but there seemed to be at least a prejudice against any person about the camp who did not wear a uniform. i was willing and anxious enough to wear a uniform, but my ambition was to be an officer in the regular service, attached to headquarters staff. this, as i have said, was about as difficult to reach as the position of brigadier-general in the volunteers, because they were making brigadier-generals every day, and they were not making second lieutenants in the regular army. i explained my plans to my father and a few friends. my father interposed some objections to my selection of the regular army, preferring that i should identify myself with some regiment from our own state, and especially from our own neighborhood. i preferred the regular cavalry first, because i intended fitting myself, by the experience i should gain in the ranks under the severe discipline and drill, for a second lieutenancy in that branch. my father thought that i would not be able to stand the restraints the discipline would impose upon me; but, as usual, i had my own way, overcoming their preference for the state troops, by the reminder that the treatment i had received from the secretary of war would serve as a club in the hands of malcontents and growlers, who are to be found in every regiment, kicking against new-comers' advancement. another difficulty was raised by the receipt of a letter from my brother, at washington, which reminded my father that i was not allowed to remain at my home, because it was located south of the line of my stipulated parole. the war department detectives had tracked me even into my own home, through the connivance of some contemptible neighbors, who are descendants of the revolutionary hessians, and like the craven dogs they were, they helped to hound me away from my father's home. to relieve my father and friends of any embarrassment, i left the house, after bidding them another "good-by," one evening, arriving in pittsburgh before midnight of the same day. the first thing the next morning i hunted up the recruiting office, astonished the officers by offering myself, and without any preliminaries enlisted into company b, second united states cavalry, captain t. f. rodenbaugh. when i applied for enlistment i never once thought of the bounty money i would become entitled to, therefore my entry into the army in the fall of was in no sense mercenary. i had served a year previously as a civilian and knew what was in store for me in the ranks. i was not even "in the draft," as my parole would have relieved me from every obligation, if i had chosen so to use it. i volunteered from motives of duty and patriotism in , at a time when recruiting was not so brisk as it had been; in fact, at a time when everything looked dark enough for our side. instead of availing myself of the parole that cleared me from obligation, i, in the darkest days of the war voluntarily enlisted as a private soldier. i felt in my heart that, in thus putting my life in pawn for the cause i had from the first consistently championed, that i would forever put beyond discussion the question of the sincerity of my motives, and i became credited to alleghany county, pennsylvania, so that, after all, i was a "regular volunteer" from my own state and county. through the thoughtfulness of captain rodenbaugh, i was paid some bounty money, which i expended in the purchase of mementoes for my friends, believing that i should never again come home to them. in the matter of my get-up as a soldier, captain rodenbaugh was quite useful to me, and became quite pleasantly interested, taking the trouble to accompany me to the tailor shop, where he gave the necessary directions as to the regulation pattern. i was to act as his private secretary or company clerk, and i suspect that he also intended to use my good clothes as a sort of a dressed-up dummy, to stand around the office with white gloves on, as a decoy to entice recruits to his roll, pretty much as we see the "walking sign" now a days at recruiting offices. in the second cavalry, the facings, instead of being the ordinary "yaller" of the cavalry, were of an orange color, to distinguish them as the "dragoons," as they were listed previous to the reorganization of that service just before the war. i was made a corporal by the captain, and had the stripes in a beautiful orange on my arms. the cap was the regulation little fatigue or mcclellan style, with the crossed sabers, and the insignia of company and regiment in brass letter--b . at my earnest solicitation, captain rodenbaugh sent me away with the first detachment of recruits to cavalry headquarters, then carlisle barracks, pennsylvania. here i had a regular circus every hour of the day, from reveille till retreat or tattoo. it's only those who have seen cavalry recruits drilled with regular cavalry horses and old drilled sergeants, that can be made to believe the stories that are told of their accomplishments in this direction. carlisle barracks was in crude form, just what the west point riding school of to-day is. i was anxious to learn to be a good soldier, and i did learn a good deal--in a mighty short time, too--while i was at carlisle. i was taught some things there that i thought i had learned thoroughly before i went there. for instance, i had been a long time in western texas, and had ridden wild and bucking horses without a saddle, chased buck-rabbits in a zigzag course over hog-wallow prairies in a reckless way that made my head dizzy, but it was reserved for my drill sergeant at carlisle barracks to show me how simple a matter it was for a trained cavalry horse to throw off a texas cow-boy. those old sergeants--and there were a number of them--had the drill horses trained so thoroughly, and withal so full of tricks, that they beat buffalo bill and any circus horses i've ever seen all to pieces. it was lots of fun for the sergeants and a few officers and their wives, who were always watching our evolutions from their barrack windows, but it was a little bit rough on some of the boys. we were given lessons in mounting and dismounting by the hour, till i became so expert that i was relieved of that part of the drill and advanced into a squad who had been there some time, and were soon to be sent off to the front as graduates. we were all obliged to hold the bridle-rein in one and the same way; that is, in the left hand, turned up so that we could see the finger-nails. all the steering had to be done by merely turning or twisting the clenched hand around, keeping it in the same position. there was no hauling back of the reins permitted, except by drawing the hand straight up to the chin to check or tighten the lines; and the forearm must be always directly in front of the pommel of the saddle. this part of the riding lesson was all new to me. i had always used my hands as i pleased, but here we must all hold the infernal wild horses with one hand turned upside down, and dare not even yank the elbow around without getting a cuss from the sergeant. there were always two or three sergeants to each drill; one gave the commands from his position in front, while another old rascal rode behind somewhere to watch our arms and legs and to do the extra cussing. some of the fellows in our squad had been farmer boys, and felt that they knew all about horses, and were disposed at first to talk horse with the sergeants; but one lesson in deportment answered for the whole term at carlisle barracks. those old fellows all said they would far rather take a city man who had never been on a horse than a farmer who had been riding all his life. the city fellows made good regular cavalrymen. we learned to ride with our knees and to steer with the legs. at first our little caps would not stay on top of our heads, but we soon became able to balance them, with the strap dangling under the nose or chin, instead of being fastened under the chin. these old war-horses had been at the barracks a long time, and had been carefully trained to go by the bugle. at the sound "trot," they would all start off as neatly, with the left foot foremost, as any infantry squad. when the "gallop" was sounded every old horse would switch his tail, take the bit in his teeth and go off like a shot over the field, helter-skelter, as if it were a hurdle race, or the whole rebel army were after them. this part of the show is where the most of the fun came in. of course, some of the riders couldn't keep time with the horses, and their caps and sabers would become troublesome appendages, and were often cast off; then the old sergeant, bringing up the rear, would yell like a comanche indian, which none of us could understand, and, as everybody thought it was necessary we should hear, it had the effect of rattling the whole squad. one of our first lessons was that never, under any circumstances, must we speak to our horses; everything must be done quietly and effectively by bit and spur; but when they got to running us off by the bugle, some of the farmer boys, when they would be tossed up too much, involuntarily sang out, "whoa!" or else, too audible, cursed the man alongside for jamming their legs. this would bring down such a torrent of abuse on the head of the offender that we were kept in a state of terror from the time we were on the horses till we dismounted. the sergeant, or perhaps an officer, after getting the squad well under way, would sound "to the right," and, of course, the horses knew what the bugle said and obeyed the signal instantly; but most of the riders didn't, and were, in consequence, involuntarily going straight ahead or fell off at the unexpected turn of the horse. then, on the home-stretch, they would so abruptly sound a "halt," that the horses would stop in two jumps, while the rider very likely went straight ahead. i'm telling you the truth about carlisle barracks and the regular cavalry. i've been there--several times--and know it all pretty well. why, it's a fact, that those old horses would, at the command "right dress," as soberly turn their one eye down the line and back up a step or forward as any infantry regiment; and on the wheel the inside horse always marked time beautifully, while the fellow on the outside had to gallop. i had lots of fun during the couple of weeks that i was at carlisle barracks. probably because i entered with so much zest and earnestness into the drill, which was really sport for me. i attracted the attention (favorably) of the sergeants and officers, and was so rapidly advanced that my request to be sent to the front with the first detachment was approved. in this ambition captain rodenbaugh seconded me, as he had been relieved of recruiting duty, and was ordered to conduct the first party to the front. we left one cold day in november, via harrisburg, traveling all night in a box-car attached to a freight train. we were delayed all the next day in baltimore, putting in the time standing around in the cold, miserable streets, under guard, awaiting our transportation over the slow baltimore & ohio to washington. the second night we reached washington, and slept on the floor of the barn-like affair they called the soldiers' retreat, then located down by the baltimore & ohio railroad depot. a great many soldiers will remember that shanty. early next morning, before any of my comrades were awake, i was up about daybreak, anxious to get a look at washington, and especially old capitol prison, through the glasses of a union soldier. it was a bitter cold morning; so early as a. m., when i went to the door of our barracks, i was astonished to see, wrapped up in his big blue overcoat, the snow blowing all over him, and standing almost up to his knees in it, our captain, c. f. rodenbaugh. i did not know then that it was an officer's duty, and one of his privileges, to stand around all night in the cold, while his men slept comfortably under shelter. i said something like this to the captain, when he courteously answered that he was the officer in charge, and it was his duty to see that the sentries were on hand. it was an early lesson; and i will say right here that the regular officers, though severe and strict in discipline, i found always ready to expose themselves before they asked their men to do so. apparently the regular officers held themselves aloof from their men, and though i was almost intimate with captain rodenbaugh, i would not have ventured to address him, except in the way of duty, and then only after a proper salute, after we had gotten out in the field. yet, if i could have met him alone or unobserved, i should have been as free with him as with my best friend. this matter of regular army etiquette was fully understood as part of our drill, and the subject never gave us any uneasiness, but in all probability saved us much trouble. there were no favorites in our service; every man was treated alike, and as long as every man did his duty, right up to the scratch, in regular army style, he was as independent as any officer, in his way. i had some queer experiences in this way, which i will relate further on. i was in washington again, and, strange to say, we were camped for the first night right in sight of the old capitol prison. mr. stanton, the autocrat secretary of war, failed entirely to suppress me. with all his arbitrary exercise of authority he could not keep me away from the front. locking me up in old capitol prison only detained me temporarily. if i had not been released i certainly should have escaped the same day. the first visit i made in washington after my return there as a soldier was to the capitol. armed with a pass, duly approved by the provost-guard officers, and dressed up in my sunday uniform, i called the member of congress from my home district from his seat out into the corridor (mr. covode being absent), where i bluntly and briefly explained that i had been given a parole not to come south until released, but being satisfied in my own heart that it was a wrong to me, and injustice had been done through the envy and malice of some war department officials, i had, upon the advice of such men as covode, decided to enlist in the army, and they had formally notified the secretary of my intention of so doing. i had not officially been advised that "i was forgiven," and desired mr. blair to see the secretary and arrange the matter for me. he looked at me with astonishment at first, and then, realizing the absurdity of the thing, laughed heartily, saying "why, of course, that's all right; they would not dare to annoy you any further." i was, further, most kindly assured that my friends in congress would all see me through, in case i had any difficulties on that score. i left the capitol, going straight to the war department, where i endeavored to get an interview with the secretary, but, dear me, a soldier--a common soldier--only a little corporal in the dragoon's uniform--presuming to address the secretary of war, was something so unheard of among the old regular attendants about the door that they were disposed to fire me out of the up-stairs window for my effrontery. i had found it difficult as a civilian to reach the secretary of war on several former occasions, but i learned, to my disgust, that as a soldier it was entirely impossible. the lesson in the regular army etiquette which i took that day, burned itself so bitterly and deeply into my heart that i never attempted afterward to address anything higher than a first sergeant in the regular army, except through the regular channels. on account of an accident that happened me at carlisle, i was permitted by captain rodenbaugh to sleep in a boarding-house during the first days after our arrival at washington city, or until horses were issued to us. at carlisle there was an old horse widely known among all the regular cavalrymen who have been there as "squeezer." at stable-call, i had noticed the men in the squad to which i had been advanced, all showed a singular alacrity in rushing to the task of cleaning their horses as soon as we broke ranks for this purpose. i learned by an experience that came near being serious, that this was caused not so much by anxiety of the troopers to clean horses, as to avoid a certain stall which squeezer occupied. [illustration: the sergeant kindly gave him the steel.] squeezer was a good-enough horse outside of his stall, or away from a fence-post or the side of a house. the trouble with him was, that he would invariably catch the man detailed to curry him against the side of the stall, and the vicious beast would deliberately put the weight of his whole body against the man so caught, to try and crush his bones. the only satisfaction the old horse seemed to get out of the dirty trick was, in listening to the cries of pain the poor fellow so caught was obliged to give vent to. the sergeants in charge of the stables were up to squeezer's tricks so well that they always carried a sharp-pointed saber-blade to the stable, which was the only thing, well struck in, that would make the old rascal let go his hold of a victim. it was the custom to let the recruit get caught by this horse trick, and i, as the latest in our squad, suffered the penalty. squeezer put his haunches up against my breast and forced me up against the board stall until the bones began to crack, when the sergeant kindly gave him the steel, and he let go of me, but began to kick viciously at the sergeant. i was hurt badly, and suffered severely from it for some days. i learned afterward that every man in our squad carried a saddler's awl as part of the outfit, and when squeezer became too affectionate with the man to whose lot it fell to tackle him, he kept the awl in one hand and the brush in the other, and used them alternately. it was one of the games of the men to lay for a chance to catch the old sergeant near his heels, when they would give squeezer an inch of the awl, and the heels would reach for the sergeant in a style that took all the military dignity out of him. for a few days our detachment was encamped in the roughest kind of barracks, located on capitol hill, near old capitol. we drew our rations of soft bread, but our meat was the regulation pickled pork, fished out of the original barrels on the spot. i recall now, with a good deal of surprise to myself, the truth that there ever was a time in washington when i had to take my slice of raw pork on a slice of bread, standing in two inches of snow, warming up with a quart of black coffee drank from a tin cup. i am at the present writing a resident of this same capitol hill, within gunshot of the old capitol prison and this former camp-ground. we would consider it a great hardship to be deprived of any of the comforts and pleasures to be extracted from a residence in this beautiful city. how few of those who now enjoy the blessings of this great government ever think that all of these pleasures were made possible for the children by the willing sacrifices and hardships of their parents in - . after many unsatisfactory days spent about the old barracks on the hill, we were at length ordered into camp near fort albany, virginia. this fort was located on the high ground just beyond the long bridge, close by fort corcoran, or between the long bridge and arlington. i was at heart greatly rejoiced to find myself once more in old virginia, even if it were only over the long bridge and the potomac river. though yet in sight, i was out of washington, and safely beyond the reach of the meddlesome war department detectives, who had become so numerous and about as thoroughly despised as were the army insect pests. it does not speak so well for the shrewdness or effectiveness of mr. pinkerton's corps, that i am able to record the truthful fact that they had not, with all their vaunted facilities of telegraph and military and civil police connections, been able to locate me, or discover that i, who had been represented to the secretary of war as a dangerous man, was freely circulating all over washington city. had i been so disposed, it would have been a simple matter to have concocted much mischief, with the aid of information i had obtained in the old capitol of rebel sympathizers who were living in the city. miss boyd had given me the names and addresses of pretty nearly everybody she had known as a friend of the south; but i made no use of this myself, except to give the information in writing to covode's committee. at our camp, near fort albany, we were quartered in the regulation sibley tent, which all old soldiers will recognize without further description. as the company clerk, or private secretary of our captain, i was pleasantly provided for in the first sergeant's tent. there were but the two of us in the big concern, because we had to make room for the desks or writing-table and other storage for the company papers. it is a little curious that i was selected to do precisely this same duty by the rebels in their capital. through the good management of the captain and the first sergeant, who were, of course, my friends, and looked after my interests in the company while i was busy on the papers, i was supplied with a real beauty of a horse. he was one of the black morgan type, a little small, but oh, my! i suspect that the captain became personally solicitous about my being handsomely mounted, as i found myself detailed to act as an orderly to himself and the other officers almost every time they rode into the city. my little nag was what may be termed frisky and spirited. i am talking all this horse now, because in the days and weeks and months that immediately followed "frisky" took an important part in all the adventures that i had. from this time forth most of my experiences were somewhat of a dashing character, dressed, as i was, in a neat uniform, and well mounted on a horse. one little trick of frisky's will serve to illustrate better than i could describe in many words the nature of the animal. the stable, in the field, you know, was simply a parallelogram composed of ropes tied to posts driven in the ground. inside of this the horses were tied to the ropes. at every stable-call i usually went out to attend to my own horse, so as to get a chance to ride bareback to water. at a certain signal, all hands mounted their horses, and at the command all filed out of the ropes, under the leader, toward the water. frisky, being well to the rear of the column the first time i got on him, astonished me and surprised the officer in command by suddenly jumping at a clear leap over the top of the rope and running off toward the head of the line. so that, at every water-call, it got to be a regular show for the officers to come around to frisky's side of the corral to see him jump over the rope instead of marching around in the rear of the others. i was at least as good a horseman as any of the rest of our batch of recruits, and probably my experience in texas, supplemented by the lessons at carlisle, had made me quite proficient in the regulation style of marching my horse. we frequently rode over to washington to spend an evening. i had lots of fun, but no adventures that i care to put in print. nearly every sunday a couple of us would get permission and passes and ride up to what was then called the arlington house, and thence through the lines of heavy artillery sentries about the fortifications, over the aqueduct bridge, to georgetown and washington. at last we were ordered to the front. i do not now remember the exact date, but it was sometime in december. this is engrafted on my memory by the fact that the "front"--as the history of the war shows--was then at or near fredericksburg, the same grand old historic town, so dear to my memory, from which i have been escorted a prisoner to the old capitol only a couple of months before. but i was going back--so the fates had decreed, in spite of stanton--to this very same place; not exactly the same place, as the rebel army occupied the town most of the time; but we were going to get as close as we could to it, and be neighborly, without getting into a fight. another circumstance which impresses this date upon my mind is, that i spent my christmas of on the rappahannock with the boys of the old army of the potomac. i was as happy as a boy with a new pair of boots when the orders came for us to draw five days' rations and get ready to move. as company clerk, being in the ring, as it were, with the first sergeant, i was privately advised that we were to go to the front, so that i got all the papers in my possession in shape, and had everything so packed away before the sergeant was ready that i had to open up the box for him again. i supposed, as a matter of course, we would ride our horses right through fairfax to fredericksburg, going the route leading somewhere near the old trail i had footed so faithfully while i was in the rebel lines. i had not told anybody in our company--not even my good friend captain rodenbaugh--of my previous experiences in virginia. it will be readily understood that i was not anxious to disclose these things, which had given me so much trouble; in fact, i desired above all things to conceal them. when i heard of the proposed movement, i went to the captain personally, and took occasion to tell him that i knew something of the road to fredericksburg, and felt competent to act as guide for the regiment, and offered my services in that direction. the captain looked at me for a moment, then, with a significant smile, he took my breath away by observing, pleasantly: "well, yes, corporal, i understand you have had some experience down here that would seem to make you familiar with the roads; but it has been ordered that we march down through maryland on the other side of the potomac." though the captain's manner was so agreeable and assuring, i was so astonished by the revelation that he, of all others, had learned of my private history, that i was for the moment so taken down i could hardly look him in the face. i felt as though i had been deceiving my best friend, and he had caught me in the act, as it were. when i ventured to offer some explanation, the captain, in his courteous way, said: "why, my dear boy, that's all right; we all--that is, the officers--have heard of your services, and, as a consequence, you have in advance plenty of friends in the regiment." i was gratified to hear this from him, and asked no further questions as to his source of information, but ever after that i was further convinced not only of the captain's kindly feeling toward me, but of the other officers as well, by the fact that, on almost every important occasion, i was honored by being selected for special orderly duty with the officers. we marched or rode our squadron out of fort albany camp one cold, damp december morning, crossed the long bridge, passed through the lower part of the city, up over capitol hill, where i got a farewell glimpse of old capitol prison from under my fatigue cap, seated on a horse, going to the front. we crossed the old bridge, beyond the navy yard, over the eastern branch, went up over the hill, and were soon out of sight of washington, traveling all day over the same route that wilkes booth took in his flight to virginia the night of the assassination. the next morning we reached the river at some point, and put in all that day in getting our horses and baggage ferried across about four miles of water. the next night we slept on the sacred soil at or near aquia creek, in virginia--precisely the same point from which i had embarked as a first-class passenger in charge of an officer _en route_ to old capitol prison. the following day we marched over a long, wind-about road to cover the fourteen miles from the potomac to the rappahannock. how shall i write it, but that evening at sundown, as soon as i could beg the privilege, i rode my horse down to the lacey house, which, as all old soldiers know, is located on the banks of the rappahannock directly opposite fredericksburg. the rappahannock river only was between me and geno; but, oh! my heart ached when i realized what a great gulf it was; and that was as near as i could get to fredericksburg. though at this point it is but a narrow stream--so narrow indeed that a conversation in an ordinary tone of voice could be carried on over it--i could not, except under the penalty of being at once shot to death by our own or the rebel forces, make even the slightest attempt at signaling to the other shore. the rebel army occupied that side. i could see walking about the streets some few persons in citizen's clothes, but all along the river, and at the foot of the street leading to the river, were armed men in gray uniforms. they had possession of the town that held all that was dear to me just then--little geno wells. i lingered until the early twilight of that december evening began to drop down like a curtain; then with a heavy heart i rode slowly back to our own camp, determined in my own mind and heart that i should get into that town somehow, in spite of our own and the rebel army. in my hurry to go down to the river, i had not taken sufficient care to get the bearings of our newly-located camp, and on my return at dark i experienced considerable difficulty in finding my way home. in my bewilderment, i ran afoul of so many camps and extra sentries that i was detained until quite late. our regiment was acting as provost-guard at gen. burnside's headquarters, and, as almost everybody knew where headquarters were to be found, i finally got on the right track. it was fortunate for me, personally, that we were at headquarters, as i was enabled to at once make acquaintances that became useful to me. with what exalted feelings i should have rushed over one of those pontoon bridges and charged up the streets to geno's house, if i had been there at the right time, may be imagined. the anxiety and eagerness with which she must have looked for me among the first of the invaders i must leave to the imagination or fancy of the romantically-disposed young lady readers who may be following this narrative. captain wells' house being located close by the river bank, near the point at which one of the pontoons was laid down, i have no doubt that its roof sheltered some of barksdale's sharpshooters, who so forcibly resisted this work of the engineer battalion. when we joined burnside, we found that our regiment, the second regular cavalry, was acting as provost-guard, one company doing duty as a headquarters or body-guard. this took me personally right into the big family at the army of the potomac headquarters. i was delighted at this prospect. i realized that i should henceforth be privileged to enjoy riding a good horse in the cavalcade that always dashed along in the wake of headquarters. in addition to this, i should personally have the opportunity to rub against the headquarters men, which would also give me the facilities for knowing pretty nearly what was going on in advance of the other boys. there were other agreeable advantages in being at headquarters, as any old soldier who is not cranky with envy will readily admit. one of these, which i appreciated very much indeed, was that, after i became a fancy orderly, and stood around with clean clothes on, and wore white gloves, i enjoyed also the very best of rations. i became familiar with the surgeon's hospital steward, who happened to be from my native city, so we messed together. it therefore became one of the privileges at headquarters, especially with the hospital steward, to draw rations from the hospital stores, which was an immense thing while at the front. i don't mean the sick rations of rice, soup, etc., but the good, nourishing things that are always reserved for the poor sick fellows. we got plenty of tea and rice, to be sure--so much, indeed, that i have soured on it ever since, and never take tea except when i am so sick that i can't bear the smell of coffee. as for rice, i am fond of it. as the colonel said, "i like rice very much indeed, if it is properly cooked--that is, about a quart of cream and milk, a pound of butter, and some eggs and sugar and nutmeg and all the other things, nicely stirred up and baked--and, oh, yes, i forgot--about a half teaspoonful of rice may be added." the steward's name was fulton--johnny fulton--formerly of fahnestock's great drug house in pittsburgh. it became the duty of the surgeons to inspect the boxes before they would admit their contents into the hospitals, because, you know, they often contained articles of food prepared and sent by kind friends at home that might have been as fatal to the sick soldiers, if they had been allowed to eat them, as would have been the rebel bullets. for instance, all sweet cakes, raisins, nuts, apples and other fruits were sure death for those troubled with the great army epidemic--dysentery. pickles, as well as the innumerable sorts of canned stuffs, became confiscated, as too dangerous to let pass, so that we had to eat them up in self-defense. there was scarcely ever a box opened that did not contain a bottle of something contraband--some old whisky. these the surgeons usually took care of. i know that some of the boys even now will be ready to swear at the headquarters' "dog-robber." i've been called that so often, and become so accustomed to it, and "loblolly boy," that it had no effect. we went straight along, having as good a time as we could, wore the best clothes and rode fast horses, and when we were not doing anything else on sundays, we would be out somewhere horse-racing. there were, of course, some disagreeable things about headquarters too, and we of the regulars had a standing fight with a lot of fancy boys who came down from philadelphia that year. they were rush's lancers. as some of the western soldiers have never seen this sort of a soldier, i shall describe him as a zoo-zoo on a horse--that is, he wore a fancy zouave uniform of many colors, and carried a pole about fifteen or twenty feet long in a socket in his stirrup. on the end of the pole was a sharp spear or lance, and a few inches from the end of the lance a little red silk flag fluttered. they were an awfully nice-looking set of fellows on parade. a thousand of them made about as dashing a show as can be imagined when galloping along in line or column. it was expected that these long poles, with the sharp spears on the ends, would be just the thing to charge on an enemy. i have often heard the owners explain just how they were going to do it when they should get a chance at the enemy. the custom or style had been imported from europe, but somehow it didn't take well in the army of the potomac. the boys called them "turkey-drivers," probably because of the red patch on the end of the pole. for a time they were at headquarters as a brilliant, fancy-looking attachment to the staff; but every time we would go out with the "turkey-drivers" the "doboys," or infantry, would yell and gobble at them in such a ridiculous way that they had to be suppressed. i have heard as many as , men in the camps in the woods gobble at the "turkey-drivers," as if it were droves of wild turkeys, every time the lancers would ride along. we of the regular cavalry at headquarters were, of course, pleased to witness the frequent discomfiture of the "turkey-drivers," probably because we were a little bit jealous of them, and feared, that their bright, dashing appearance might give them a preference over us as the headquarters' favorites. pretty soon they, like the zouaves, changed their uniform to the old blue blouse, and threw away their long sticks for the noisy saber. although we had some fun among ourselves at headquarters, yet about that time--christmas and january, - --were the dark days of the war. seemingly, everything had gone wrong with the army of the potomac. burnside had left some of the best blood of the long-suffering old army on the frozen ground over the river; the hospitals were filled with the sick and wounded, who could not safely be transported north; and, to my intense disgust, it seemed to me that i never rode out to any place, or made a visit to my friends in other regiments, that i did not run into some of those professional embalmers or packers, who would be engaged at one of their ugly jobs. the weather was cold, and these men went about their work as indifferently as we often see the dead beef and hogs handled in market! one of the saddest duties to which we at headquarters were subjected, at times, was the piloting of visitors, who came down from washington with passes and reported first at headquarters, to the regimental or brigade hospitals, in which their wounded or sick were to be found. generally the visitor would be an old father, perhaps a farmer, sent by the mother to take home a sick or may be a dead son. chapter xxix. life at headquarters army of potomac--some startling revelations as to the "true inwardness," not to say cussedness, of our high union officials--interesting descriptions of family life at headquarters--"signals"--ciphers--again volunteering for secret service inside the rebel army--a remarkable statement about burnside and hooker--introduction to general meade--a night at rappahannock interviewing rebel pickets. we were encamped on the side of the hill on the top of which was the large mansion house then occupied by burnside and staff. my memory is not reliable as to names, but i think it was called the phillips house; anyway, it was a fine, large house, with all the usual surroundings of a virginia mansion of the days. there were negro quarters, smoke-house, ice-house, stables, etc. these were filled up with the innumerable crowd that are always about headquarters. our command was in camp in sibley tents on the hill-side or in the orchard, almost within call of the house. it was my daily habit, when not otherwise engaged (and i had the liberty of the camp), to loaf around the porch of this house. some way there seemed to be a strange fascination in the general officer's appearance, and i took great delight in watching his every movement and in listening to the talk of the big officers on the staff. there was always something going on at headquarters. either general franklin, or the old, almost feeble-looking, but grand e. v. sumner, or couch, would be there as visitors, and before they would leave probably other corps commanders in the uniform of major-generals, with swords, and followed by their staffs, would dash up to the fence, dismount, and strut in, with swords rattling on the frozen ground and reverberating in the big hallway. i saw burnside every day, and several times a day. whatever may be the judgment as to his generalship, there can be but one opinion as to his handsome appearance and his courteous manner. i became a personal orderly to the general, and bear my cheerful testimony that he was always courteous and kind, and most tenderhearted and thoughtful of the welfare of the boys in the ranks. it was my privilege to have seen him frequently when alone during the dark, dreary days that followed his terrible disaster. i have often since thought that his mind became affected by his great trouble. he would do some of the queerest things; as, for instance, one evening he came out into the back part of the house, where i happened to be at the time, in company with a chum, there being no one else near. he, in his bare head, coolly walked up to us. we, of course, jumped to our feet, saluted and properly stood at attention, expecting that he would pass on, but, instead, he stopped, and, with a peculiar little laugh, said, in words that i do not now recollect, but, in effect, it was: "tell them it's all right." then, as if suddenly recovering consciousness, probably at our stupidity in staring at him, he turned abruptly away, saying, hurriedly: "never mind, never mind." my companion, being older and more experienced than i, probably felt it his duty to whisper to me, as he touched my arm: "come; don't stare so. don't you see the 'old man' is full?" i believed at the time, and for a long time after, that my companion was right, but, in the light of subsequent events, and coupled with some other singular things that it was my privilege to witness in the few days that followed, i am reluctantly inclined to believe that general burnside was crazed by his defeat, and that he had not recovered the possession of his faculties when he planned the "mud campaign." but, to better explain my reasons for entertaining this view, i will explain that, a day or two after this singular occurrence, when i found an opportunity to see the general alone, i took occasion to boldly make a proposition to him. as i put the matter in writing at the time, at his request (for my own good, as he in such a kindly way suggested), it is probable that the paper may be among the records. i wanted to go over the river very, very much--that goes without saying. as i knew geno was in the house, the roof and one corner of which i could see, i made almost a daily pilgrimage to the lacey house, and sat there on my horse by the hour, hoping and praying that it might be that she or some of the family would recognize me. when i made bold to personally address general burnside, i am afraid that i began in a rather nervous voice and manner to unfold my plan of going into general lee's lines again. at first he looked at me a little incredulously, then, as he recognized me as being one of the telegraph and signal men about his headquarters, he said: "why, my dear boy, i couldn't send you on such an errand as that." but i persisted, and, to assure him further, i told him i had been there before, and wasn't afraid to go again. "you surprise me," said the general, genially. "come into my room and i'll talk it over a little." i followed him into his room, where we found at least half a dozen officers already gathered; indeed, there was always a crowd of them around headquarters. while general burnside greeted them cordially, i stood at attention, at a respectful distance, in one corner of the room, where i was wholly unobserved. while waiting for the general to clear up the business with his callers--which, by the way, seemed to me a long, long while--i heard, among others, one little story that i do not think has ever been printed. some officers were quietly discussing the recent battle; indeed, this was a subject that would not down. it seemed as if the ghosts of the thousands of dead soldiers who were slaughtered before marye's heights and at the pontoons were haunting the memories of our generals. and, by the way, the boys who died doing their thankless duty at the pontoons are almost forgotten, though they are almost as numerous as those who charged up the heights. well, one of the officers whom i heard talking on the subject that day was, to my mind then, quite an ordinary-looking man. he was a little bit stoop-shouldered; at least, his careless, loose dress gave him that appearance, while with his muddy boots and spectacles and generally unsoldierly bearing, he gave me the impression that he was a brigade surgeon. another of the officers, speaking of the failure of the army, made some remark about the left not doing its share. at this the surgeon jerked up his head and his eyes showed fire through his spectacles, as he said: "i want you to understand that my division on the left broke jackson's line in our charge, and, if we had been sustained, the result would have been different." there was a good deal more of this sort of talk, pro and con, to which i paid no attention at the time, because it seemed as if everybody that i heard speak was explaining something or finding fault with another, and it, of course, became tiresome. there was lots of this sort of thing around headquarters which we on the outside overheard. one little circumstance indelibly impressed this one man's talk on my mind at the time. holding up his battered, old, slouched hat, and sticking his bony finger through a bullet-hole, in the crown, he said, in a reply to a suggestion that "there was no enemy in front of him, as there was at marye's heights"--"i found it hot enough in my front." after he left i asked who the doctor was. the man on duty at the door looked at me with disgust as he said: "that's no damned doctor, man; don't you know general meade?" that was my introduction to the future commander of the army. and i put it on paper here now, that meade's division, of the old sixth corps, made a charge, at fredericksburg, on jackson's , men (the best position of the rebels, because higher and more precipitous than marye's heights) that equaled that of pickett at gettysburg, yet we never hear the survivors blow of it. i had a much longer wait for my opportunity to talk with general burnside alone on this business than the reader has in reading this story. i might tell some secrets that i overheard that day, while lying about headquarters. my ears were always as wide open as the proverbial little pitcher's, and, besides, i had been in training so much under similar circumstances in the rebel country that i could scarcely help picking up everything that dropped in my hearing or sight. however, at last they were all gone, excepting the adjutant-general and his clerk; these two were busily engaged with some papers, seated at a long dining-room table that had been drawn out for a desk. after general burnside gave some directions about his correspondence to the war department, he turned to me and, taking a chair in each hand, asked me to sit down, and in as courteous a manner as if i were a major-general he began apologizing for the delay. he drew his chair right up in front of mine, looking me straight in the eye, as he said: "now, my young friend, what is it that you propose?" as briefly as i could put it i explained, what my plan was--to open telegraph communication from the town of fredericksburg, inside the rebel lines, direct with his headquarters telegraph operators. this at the first glance may seem to be a wild, visionary scheme, but that it was entirely feasible i soon satisfied general burnside. those who were in the army of the potomac will remember the signal telegraph corps. i do not mean the military or morse corps, but the _signal_ telegraph corps. there were two distinct organizations doing practically the same character of work in the army of the potomac. as a natural consequence, these two army telegraph corps were in a state of active, bitter warfare against each other all the time. the morse telegraph corps was a civilian or non-military affair under mr. eckert, who was located at the war office. through this fact, and the sinister influence of these jealous washington telegraphers, they were successful in securing mr. stanton's hostility to the army signal telegraph corps. every old army man will remember the signal telegraph lines that were constructed, as if by magic, on the little ten-foot poles, which were stretched along the roads like miniature telegraphs, always taking the shortest cuts through the camps. i presume that every corps headquarters was in immediate telegraphic connection with the general headquarters, and that the little poles and gum-insulated wire extended to all the important outposts. this telegraph line was used in connection with the flag-and-torch system. for instance, from some elevated position on the outskirts of our lines, probably a tree-top or a distant hill, always overlooking the enemy's country (which was just over the river), would be located a signal station. here would be found a signal officer and his squad of trained flag swingers. those stations were equipped with the very best field-glasses and telescopes that were obtainable in this country and in europe. the telescope, being the larger glass, would always be found supported on a platform or tripod, and usually leveled so as to sweep the enemy's country. each of these stations covered a designated field, equal in extent to five or ten miles. a number of these stations were arranged so that the entire front, as well as the rear, if possible, and both flanks of the enemy, were being minutely inspected every hour of the day, and any unusual movement of men or teams were at once noted and immediately reported to headquarters. the telegraph lines were generally used while in permanent camps to convey these reports back from the front. but in case of their being disarranged or on the march, when telegraphs could not be operated, the flag-and-torch system was used. those who have seen these temporary wires will remember that they were apparently about the thickness of a lead-pencil, but an examination would show that a gum or rubber casing inclosed a very thin copper wire. for purpose of insulation the best quality of rubber was used, while the wire was of the purest copper. it was made in europe to order, and, as it was expected that the wires would receive some pretty hard usage, great care was taken in its manipulation. the wire, though as thick as a pencil, was as flexible as a piece of rope of the same thickness. it could be looped, tied and twisted into any sort of shape in the roughest, shortest manner, and be undone without damaging it. it will be understood without further explanation from me, that the purpose in having this army signal wire made in this way was to secure perfect insulation for the electric current. it was expected that, in certain emergencies, the wire could be rapidly reeled off the hose-carriage-looking vehicle that carried it on to the ground, even during a battle, and signal communication kept up through it even while it lay on the ground or in the water. a corps of men with wagons arranged to carry cords of their little circus-tent telegraph poles would run along after the reel, like a hook-and-ladder company, and were drilled to rapidly pick up the wire and suspend it overhead, where it was not liable to be injured by men or horses coming against it. i didn't have to tell him all of this, because he already knew all about it. the telegraph and the wire were both in his sight continually. i merely said to him: "general, i will take some of that insulated wire, submerge it as a cable under the rappahannock, and go over there myself and telegraph your headquarters every hour, if necessary, from inside the rebel lines." "why, my boy, if you were to attempt to take that wire over there, the first use that would be made of it would be to make a rope to hang you." "but i'm not going over there with a rope in my hands," i said. then i fully explained to the general, first, that i could get into fredericksburg in apparent safety, under pretense of being a rebel, because i had actually been taken away from there in arrest and confined in old capitol prison, by mr. stanton's orders, which fact was well-known by some friends in the town. at this the general's mouth opened in astonishment, and he probably began to think he was talking with a crazy man. but, after a long talk about my former experiences and my recent personal troubles with mr. stanton, which interested the general, especially the latter, seemed to renew his interest, and he apparently gave me his sympathy and encouragement. the poor old general was in great trouble with the war office just then, and probably from this fact he was able to better appreciate my queer position. how very insignificant and trifling my affairs became, as compared with his own distressing, heart-breaking burden! the general, with a deep sigh, as an expression of pain passed over his face that i shall never forget, said: "my dear boy, i should like to avail myself of your offer, and will think it over; but," with hesitancy, as his brow wrinkled with something like a frown of distrust, "i want to say to you in the way of secret-service confidence, that the position and location of the rebel forces has been incorrectly reported to me by the war department secret service officials." in this connection i can only explain this voluntary observation by the well-known fact that, undoubtedly, burnside was indirectly obliged by public sentiment, expressed through halleck and stanton, and perhaps the president, to make his unfortunate movement over the river, in the face of an enemy intrenched on the almost-impregnable heights, against his better military judgment. perhaps the war department had information of the rebel army that would seem to have justified the attempt. i don't pretend to know anything more about it than i have gathered from general burnside in the way i have indicated. in after years, when general burnside became a senator from rhode island, i was employed in the senate as telegraph operator for the associated press. major ben. perley poore, the correspondent, learning from me that i had served with the general, incidentally mentioned the fact to him one day, and, in less time than i take to write it, the dear old general was in my office shaking me heartily by the hand. i met him in a business way frequently during his term, but he never talked on the subject of the war to me, except in a general, pleasant way. i further explained, to the apparent satisfaction of the general, that i should submerge the wire in the river, at night, at a certain point, and not attempt to haul it out on the rebel shore, except under certain contingencies, that were likely to occur, and which i could make use of from the other shore. i had studied the subject carefully; indeed, from my frequent visits to the river bank, i had evolved from my fertile brain the plan to kill two birds with one stone; _i. e._, to get to see geno, at the risk of my neck, and while there, under the protection of her father and friends, who would undoubtedly vouch for me as a good rebel, i should be able to go about unmolested, and learn the position and, perhaps, the plans of the rebel army, and then trust to a fortunate combination of circumstances to go and fish up my submerged wire and tap my important news to headquarters. any telegrapher will see that this could easily have been done by the use of the little instrument, that could be concealed between the empty lids of a big watch-case. the current, or battery, was to be supplied from the other end, and all that i had to do to secure attention, or notify the operators at burnside's headquarters that somebody was at the other end of their wire, was to merely lift the exposed end off the ground or out of the water. i can't explain all this, but that is the fact easily substantiated. the only difficulty about the plan was in getting hold of this end of the wire without detection. this was a very serious trouble; but, as i have said, i had carefully studied the thing out, and thought it over night and day. i will admit, for the sake of argument, that my thoughts and plans were stimulated by the hope of getting over to see geno. in my frequent rides along the river banks in search of a good landing for my cable, i had selected a point on the other side right below the piers of the burnt railroad bridge. those who have been there will remember an old mill that was located right on the bank, the water-wheel of which seemed to be almost on the edge of the water. from this wheel was a deep ditch, or waste-way, for the escape of the surplus water into the river. back of the wheel there was, of course, the mill-race, which was quite deep and, like a canal, sluggish. this race, as it is called, extended in a winding way up into an unfrequented part of the town. now, my scheme was to watch a favorable opportunity from the union side, and, with the connivance of our own officers, the first dark night i proposed taking a coil of that wire, and, under the pretense of escaping over the river in a boat, i should, when near the rebel shore, drop the coil with its anchor, and make a certain signal, at which our pickets were to fire their guns as if they had discovered me and were in hot pursuit. of course the rebel pickets would be expected to be on the alert all the time, and, to prevent detection, i proposed suspending the coil of wire in the water from the start, attached to a rope, which i could quickly let go, and the coil and anchor would quietly drop out of sight to the bottom. once on the other side, i would have to run the risk of being recognized by the rebel officers, to whom i should undoubtedly be taken at once. i hoped that by this time i had been forgotten by my old rebel friends. once safely through this gauntlet i should appeal to captain wells for recognition and release as a rebel. there would be no trouble about that, you know. then, after looking the ground over, i could, at my leisure, go fishing for my coil of wire, and extend it up the mill-race either into the deserted old mill or beyond, out of the range of the pickets, and astonish the boys at burnside's headquarters by signaling to them from the other shore. there was nothing about this plan impracticable, and general burnside was so favorably impressed with my scheme that he heard me through with an apparently deep interest, and even suggested some changes in my project. it did not occur to me at the time, though i learned subsequently, that one of the reasons which induced general burnside to delay the consideration of my proposition was (very properly) to enable him to make some inquiries of my immediate officers about my past experience and supposed fitness for secret service among the rebels. i was quietly informed of this by a friend at court. the result of this investigation must have been satisfactory to the general. he sent after me one evening, so late that the messenger had considerable difficulty in finding me, because i was wrapped up over head and ears in my army blanket for a nightgown, so sound asleep that i did not hear my name called. as all of us were lying around loose in that shape, looking like mummies of the same age, he took the very great risk of resuscitating the wrong one, when the orderly gave notice that "the general is waiting for that telegraft signal fellow to report." everybody within hearing at once took a part in the search, and i was rooted out of my snug corner by the order to "git out of here damned sudden; you're wanted at headquarters." this sort of a summons aroused the curiosity of every old soldier that happened to be around, and that's saying a good deal. it's only those who have lived among the old soldiers (i mean those regular chaps who have been in the service twenty or thirty years) that can understand fully what is meant by exciting their curiosity with an order for a comrade to report to headquarters. they looked upon me with various expressions of pity, contempt, envy and wonder. the general impression was that i was getting into some kind of trouble, and one comrade sympathetically whispered words of cheer and comfort; another bade me "good-by," etc. being only an enlisted man, i was quartered with the "non-coms" around headquarters, my immediate chum being the hospital steward. as soon as i was wide enough awake to realize the situation and understand the summons, i knew well enough what it meant, but feigned wonder and surprise, and, hastily dressing myself, rushed through the dark yard to the house before any one could question me. there were the usual sentries around headquarters, but my man got through them quickly, and we entered the house through the big hallway. there was but one light burning there, as every one of the numerous staff had gone off to sleep. the orderly gently knocked at the door as if he were afraid some one might hear. a quiet voice said, "come"; the orderly opened the door, put on his "regular" face, jerked himself in sideways, stiffened up, saluted, and reported that he had "fetched the man he was ordered to." "all right; 'fetch' him a little more, sergeant, till i see him," were the exact words the general uttered in reply, in his pleasant way. without waiting for any further introduction from my escort, i brushed my bangs down, wiped off my chin, and stepped inside of the door, saluting the general according to the regulations. the general dismissed the orderly with a pleasant "ah, here he is; that will do orderly." turning to me, with the pen he pointed to a chair, saying: "i wanted to see you, and it seems as if the only opportunity i have is after everybody else has left me. take a seat till i finish this note." after expressing my readiness to wait upon him at any hour, i sat down as directed, and for the time being i was alone with the commander-in-chief of the army of the potomac. if i were permitted to live a thousand years, that lapse of time would not efface from my memory the impressions that this singular midnight interview with general burnside has left upon my mind. previous to my reporting, the general had probably been engaged with his private correspondence, and was at that moment very intent in an awkward effort at steering his pen over a sheet of paper. the general, like all other great soldiers, was a poor penman. it made me nervous watching him scratch over the paper, so that i felt like volunteering my services as an amanuensis to help him out of his labor, though i am a poor penman myself--which, by the way, is the only claim that i have for comparison with great men. almost everybody is familiar with the broad, honest, generous face of burnside, with his english side-whiskers--"burnsides"; but, like most pictures, it fails entirely to show him with his face lighted up by his happy, encouraging smile. though there were upward of a hundred thousand soldiers sleeping on that cold, inhospitable ground in this darkness, all was as quiet in the army of the potomac along the rappahannock at that hour as if it were a great national cemetery containing a hundred thousand quiet graves. as i sat there and watched the general's features as he continued to write, the thought occurred to my mind that this one man could, by a word, call into active life every one of those around, not only on this, but on the other side of the river. right over the little rappahannock river, on every one of the hills that were in the background, we knew well enough was another sleeping army; but their dreary winter camps were enlivened somewhat by their hundreds of cheerful camp-fires, the light from which seemed to flicker in our faces a happy sort of defiance at our wretched darkness. all along the river front, almost within gunshot of our headquarters, was stretched a line of camp-fires at such regular intervals that the scene resembled the lights of lamps on a long, winding street. they were allowed camp-fires on their picket-lines. we were prohibited from lighting a match at the front. after the general had finished his task of writing and sealing the note, he rose from his chair, threw up both arms, as if to stretch himself out of a cramp, as he walked toward me, saying, abruptly: "it seems to me, young man, that you are in a position that will enable you to do us great service." when i made a move to get on my feet to assume the soldier's first position of attention, the general motioned me back into my chair, with a command to: "sit still; i want to stretch my legs a little while i talk this matter over," and he halted in front of me as he put the question: "do you think you can get to the other side in safety to yourself?" i assured him that i had no doubt of that whatever, and went on to explain that my recent relations with the people there would serve to protect me, but that i must not go in the uniform of a federal soldier. "are you sure that your friends over there have not heard of your being in the army?" i thought not--indeed, i was sure they had not--as some of my best friends in the north were not aware of the step, because i had not joined with any of the state troops, but had united with the regulars, where i had become lost, as it were, among strangers. during this examination i had assumed that, as a matter of course, my proposition to submerge the cable was in the general's mind. i had spent some time and considerable labor in the interval in carefully preparing a section of the soft rubber or insulated wire for this use. sufficient length had been carefully selected and tested with the electrical batteries, and then i had put the whole quartermaster's department in a stew by a requisition, approved by headquarters, for some linseed oil, which was something that was not in the regulation list. i wanted to use the oil as additional coating to the rubber, as a better protection in the water. after much red-tape business, i got some oil, and put my coil of selected wire into the barrel for a good soaking. when i began to tell the general about this additional security, he interrupted me: "oh, never mind about that now. i fully appreciate your ingenuity, and believe that some such plan might become practicable hereafter, but (with an impressiveness that i shall never forget) we know pretty well the extent and disposition of the enemy's forces over there." with a deep sigh he hesitated a moment, as if recalling his recent battle, that had so terribly demonstrated this fact. "the government was deceived to a great extent by scouts; what i now desire is to deceive the rebels." i didn't "catch on," which the general probably discovered by his intent look into my eye. "we must deceive them the next time; and if you are willing to take the risk on yourself of going into their lines, you can no doubt aid us very much better than by taking the wire along with you." i expressed so decided a willingness to do anything, that the general smilingly said: "i see that you will do; and, as you have explained, it will be no great risk to you personally, i am satisfied to have you make the attempt." after a few more words of friendly caution, the general said, finally: "it will be better that you should make the crossing either above or below, and come up into the city. a few signals may be arranged beforehand with some of the signal officers, which you can, no doubt, perfect yourself better than i." i assured him that this could be easily done, and with a word or two more of caution and a suggestion to arrange my signals, and when i was ready to go to report to him, the general bade me "good-night." i left general burnside's office that night without any very clear understanding of what he wanted me to do. i was only sure that i was expected to go over into the town for a purpose which he had not yet explained. this was sufficient for me. i went off in the dark to find my blanket, my head swimming with delight at the prospect of personally serving the general of the army and the government in a way that would at once secure advancement for me; but, best of all, i should at the same time be able to see geno; and perhaps the fortune of war would be so altered by another move as to enable me to escort her and the wells family away from the ill-fated old town. but i shall leave the romantic portion--the love story--out of this narrative of fact. perhaps some person better able than myself may in the future weave a romance from these plain statements of facts that i have somewhat reluctantly been putting down from time to time, in the midst of the bustle and confusion of my later-day work of a newspaper correspondent at washington, yet scouting around among rebels for news. i found my blanket undisturbed during my absence. it had served as a sort of claim to that part of the floor in the large room over which were scattered a half-dozen sleeping men. one of the boys was wide enough awake to begin questioning me in regard to the nature of my business with the "old man"--the general was always the "old man," you know. in anticipation of this, and remembering a word of caution from the general, i had fixed up in my own mind a plan to put them on the wrong track. i explained--very confidentially, of course, knowing very well that it would get out the better and be believed if in that form--that i was to be questioned about the material necessary to build a telegraph line up to washington on our side of the river. it will be remembered that there was no direct communication with washington by land from the army at fredericksburg. ostensibly, the union forces occupied that portion of the territory, but, practically, the rebel residenters, bushwhackers and guerrillas, assisted by stuart's cavalry, infested the entire region between alexandria or manassas and fredericksburg. occasionally our cavalry were up in that region about some of the upper fords of the rappahannock, but it was to all intents and purposes the enemy's country. it was expected that i would convey some false or misleading information as coming from our forces to the rebel officers. in a word, i was to become a decoy-duck. while lying there all alone thinking this over carefully, and the exuberance of my feelings over a personal and pleasant interview with the general had subsided, i began to realize the dangerous position in which i might be placed. the character of the decoy messages, and the manner of conveying them, the general had discreetly kept from me until the time for action. i was satisfied that i could easily get through to the rebel headquarters and perhaps see general lee personally. my "sympathizer"--old capitol story--would, no doubt, take well, especially in fredericksburg. the first danger that i should encounter would be a chance recognition of my "former services," but this was only equal to about one in a thousand. the only matter that i feared at all was going into the rebel headquarters as the bearer of any important papers; they might, notwithstanding my friends in fredericksburg, become suspicious and, perhaps, be induced to keep a watch over me as a sort of hostage for their fulfillment. if the intelligence i had taken to them had misled and caused disaster to their army, i would have to suffer. the only way to circumvent this was to get out of the way before it was too late. geno was over on that side, and the prospect of once more seeing her settled in my young impulsive heart the question. i determined that i would go, and go, too, as soon as possible; and with this thought fixed in my mind, i at last went off into a sound sleep, to dream of the happy hour when i should again take her hand in mine and tell her of the difficulties and the dangers i had met and so persistently overcome, that i might once more enjoy the happiness of being near her. all the different headquarters were in direct communication with each other and the general headquarters, as well as the signal station, from their points of observation, by means of this wire signal telegraph, which i have described. this field telegraph was operated on the "induction" principle, which is the basis of the telephone patent. in the field telegraph, instead of vibrations, the induced current causes the deflection of a sensitive needle, which noisily points to letters of the alphabet on a dial synchronously with the transmitting apparatus. compared with the morse system, it was a little tedious, and, at times, as uncertain as a telephone. it had the advantage, however, of simplicity. we called these "coffee-mill telegraphs." since the war the "coffee-mill," or english system, has been greatly improved--the same principle operating the atlantic cables. instead of a needle revolving on the face of a dial, it is made by a wave of electricity, to simply dip or deflect, as desired, either to the right or the left of a zero point. in this way the two simplest of all known characters are formed; _i. e._, the "dot" and the "dash" of the american morse system. this principle has an important bearing, not only in the action of this narrative, but it is the basis of a system of signals first applied to use in war by myself, as developing the practicability of signaling from even the inside of an enemy's line into headquarters of his opponent. since our war developed its uses, it has been adopted by nearly all the governments of the earth. it was designed by myself that, instead of being burdened by the attempt to lay a cable under the water and concealed in the earth, through which it was hoped to signal, that i should go over to fredericksburg and, once safely in geno's home, i could, by visual signals, communicate directly with an accomplished signal officer to be located at the lacey house. this was entirely practicable. captain wells' house was barely discernable from the lacey house. i was to take a position at a certain window in the wells' house and, when alone, signal directly over the water and through the air to a window in the lacey house, by the simple use of this dot and dash system. those who have seen the signal-flags and torches will remember that there were but two simple motions, one to the left and the other to the right of a perpendicular--the stroke down, or in front, merely signifies a stop--the dot (or no. ) is represented by a quick motion _to the right_; a dash (or no. ) by a motion to the left of a sender. at the end of each word, abbreviation, conventional or prearranged signal, a "front" motion is made. i put in the cold days and long nights in studying up signals and in arranging with my "pard" for their exchange. he entered heartily into the scheme, believing, as we all did, that i, of all others, was just the person to undertake the business, because i would be recognized as a rebel in that town. from an up-stairs window of the lacey house we discovered that two windows of captain wells' house were plainly visible. there was also a single "dormer" window in the roof, which the bombardment had seriously damaged. these up-stairs windows were visible over the top of another house that stood between it and the river. there was no other point on our side of the river from which signals could be quietly made that would not attract the attention of the watchful rebels. even from an obscure window of the lacey house we feared it would be risky to attempt any demonstration in the way of signals. it was on this account settled upon that very few, if any, signals should be made to me. there would be only some common recognition of my presence. we arranged that when one shutter of the lacey house window was open it would signify to me in the rebel lines that my man had his telescope leveled at my window, of which i was to open one shutter to signify my presence in that room. now, the telescopes used in the united states signal service were of the very best character. it will seem to many to be an exaggerated statement when i assert that i have distinctly and clearly read flag-signals a distance of twenty-five miles, and these at the rate of fifteen to twenty words a minute, too. at night torch-signals may be distinctly read by this method. it is only necessary that the exact point or bearings of the distant signal station be known. for this purpose a first-class pocket compass was furnished each signal officer. in this case it was not necessary to see the compass to find the window, but we located with the telescope and compass certain other points miles to the rear of marye's heights and the rebel army, which i was to find in case the window was not available. the window was altogether the best point, provided i could get use of it, because i could sit back in the shadow, and out of view of any person outside, and be seen by the use of the telescope, especially at night. with my hand, or with a wand or a fan, i was supposed to seat myself in that room, my feet cocked up on a window-sill, smoking a cigar and nonchalantly signal or spell out this one-two alphabet by the waves of a fan. the objection to that was that it was wintertime, and fans were not necessary, but it was generally understood that i was to use anything that happened to suit best, and to change as often as possible--merely to show a right and left motion was all that was necessary. circumstances may arise in the future in which some such conditions may be availed of, as they were in our war on more than one occasion. exactly what i was to telegraph back did not occur to me. in fact general burnside did not seem to attach very much importance to this part of the plan, which was more attractive to my own and my chum's mind than his decoy matter. it was my intention to travel at will, through my rebel friends in the town, and, if possible, get into the lines even to general lee's headquarters, and hear their telegraph instruments, and if anything important was learned i should at once "open my half-shutter" and watch for the open half-shutter in the lacey house. when they were ready to "receive" both shutters were to be opened, and as long as both remained opened they were "getting me down" in black and white. in case of the loss of a signal or a word, an attempt would be made to close one shutter, when i would see that i was to stop until signaled to "go ahead" by the opening of both shutters again. it is not to be understood that it was expected of me to "spell out," by this motion system, every word that i might want to communicate over the river. there is scarcely a word in general use that was not abbreviated by the phonetic spelling and pronunciation, so that every message became a blind cipher, excepting to those who understood the phonetic system. for instance, the long word "communicate," which i have just used here, is reduced to two simple letters, as follows: communicate km. communication kmn. communicating kmg. communicated kmd. the suffixes ing, ed, tion and ty to this word, and wherever they occur, were shortened by the use of the letters g, d, n, and y, respectively. i can "communicate" with a flag in shorthand as rapidly and as correctly at a distance of twenty miles as our official reporters will at twenty feet, and if the weather does not permit the use of flags, a battery of guns can be made to "km" as far as they can be heard, in a storm or in the dark. for my own especial purpose, we had arranged a few additional signals by which i was to quickly "km" with headquarters. for instance, the important information that i had been successful in spreading the false information was to be known by a continuous repetition of the signals "sk, sk, sk," signifying successful. i felt that i could with perfect safety to myself stand on the bank of the river, and, while apparently using my handkerchief in an ordinary way, make these two simple signs so that it would be readily understood. if i signaled re-rd, it meant general lee was in richmond; or lt. was not lieutenant, as would be supposed by any signal officer, but meant longstreet; while a simple x was for stonewall jackson. enh was "enough." before everything was in readiness, i was looking for an opportunity to see general burnside and tell him of the character of our arrangements. i was disappointed in not seeing him for a couple of days; my recollection is that he was in washington. any way, i felt at the time that he was not as much interested in the matter as i had supposed he would be. finally, i succeeded in seeing the general, but not alone; indeed, he was seldom, if ever, without some sort of company. when he stopped his conversation long enough to hear me, he simply said, in his polite, kindly way: "well, you come in and see me again, won't you?" of course that settled it for that interview, and i had to go off disappointed. i watched for the next opportunity, and when i sent a little note to his room to say that i was ready, he surprised me by sending out to see me one of his staff officers, who, holding my note in his open hand, came up to me and began to explain that the general had directed him to see me, etc. this officer said, very kindly: "the general has informed me of your proposed service, and has directed me to afford you every facility possible. what can i do for you? he is very much occupied just now." that was very kind, but it was not exactly satisfactory, as i wanted to talk to the general; however, i told this officer i wanted to cross the river below the town, under the guise of a deserter, and, once over, to act as i should find best. he heard of my proposed signaling with amazement, and after explaining his grave doubts about the safety of such an undertaking, he told me, with a significant confidence for such a short acquaintance: "the army is to move in a few days right over into the town precisely as we did before. the general, you know, is determined to make a success of his former plan, but he especially desires that the rebels should be led to believe that he proposed to cross below. therefore, he directed me to say that the only directions he had were that the enemy should be made to believe this, and directed me to confer with you as to the best method of accomplishing this result." he went on further to detail a plan of crossing the army at a place called hoop-pole ferry, and said they would make a demonstration in that direction, but they would cross into the town again. it never once occurred to my innocent heart that this smooth-talking yankee officer was lying to me. they did not intend to cross at the town, and he knew it. at this very time general burnside was planning his campaign to cross above the town some distance, at banks or united states fords, and he was only prevented from doing so by the "stick-in-the-mud." in stating so positively that he intended to redeem the army and "lead his own ninth corps" up that hill, right through town as before, he purposely and, perhaps, wisely deceived me, and i was in turn to further deceive, or attempt to deceive the rebels by making them think he was to cross twenty miles below. after i had gotten under my blanket, the night following the interview with general burnside's staff-officer, i instinctively felt it was my last peaceful sleep under the protection of the old flag. it was then, when alone with myself, that i calmly and dispassionately thought over the entire matter. i will admit that i was a little bit cowardly when the time neared for working this case in the dark. i am not afraid, however, to put myself down here in cold type as being afraid of the rebels. i may be permitted to say, that no one soldier, in all that army, carried a greater risk than myself in being there. it will be understood the prime motive with me was a longing desire to see geno. for her dear sake i was willing to risk my life, knowing, if i were successful, i should win promotion and geno at the same time. i recalled, with feelings of intense gratification, the staff-officer's words: "we shall cross into the town again as we did before." it occurred to my dull comprehension that if this were to be so what would be the use in my taking any risk on myself to find geno, by going over into the hands of the enemy, in advance of the army. i reasoned very clearly, the more i thought over it, that it would be decidedly safer, and in every way better to answer my purpose, to ride a horse over the pontoons under the protection of our cannon than to go over alone only a day or two in advance. general burnside's staff-officer, in thus lying to me about the crossing, unintentionally over-reached himself. but i had said to the general that i would go, and all the preparations had been made to signal. i could not, therefore, decently back down on my own proposal. i was a coward both ways--afraid to go and afraid not to go. i concluded, by way of compromise, to do as a great many of our generals have done, who were also afraid sometimes--i would procrastinate, in hopes the army would move before i did--i would also make a "demonstration" below town, but hope to get into town by the convenient method of the pontoons. the scene of this adventure is, of course, along the rappahannock, the season that of the dreadful winter of - , on stafford heights, once the farm of mrs. washington, the mother of the father of his country. the scenery was changing, like that on the stage, from the "snowy shroud that winter weaves around the dying year" to the more disagreeable mud that virginia alone can supply, and that so effectively tied up everything that does not go on wings. in addition to the innumerable enemies in the front, in the rear, and on the flanks, that the old army of the potomac had to contend with, one of the most obstinate was the mud. it was arranged that i should be quietly furnished with the facilities to enable me to "desert" over the river. all these arrangements were practically in my own hands. everything that i desired was cheerfully afforded me. during two of the coldest, most disagreeable days and nights of that memorable winter, i bivouacked with our cavalry outposts, located on the river bank some distance below the town. i was there for the purpose of watching a favorable opportunity to desert to the other side. that i did not go, was not to be charged to a lack of facilities. i was not in a hurry; in fact, i was hoping against hope that the whole army would move. i, at last, concluded that i should have to make a demonstration to satisfy my friends, with whom i had talked it over. the weather was so terribly cold and rough along that river bottom that, after a few days' experience, i felt it would be a relief to get over the river, alongside of the snug camp-fires of the rebels, which seemed to beckon me over, as an _ignis fatuus_. the confederates were allowed camp-fires all along their picket-lines. we were not even permitted to light a match. the rappahannock, at the point patrolled by our cavalry, was narrow and deep, the banks on either side being abrupt and covered in most places by a close undergrowth of willow. directly opposite, and within speaking distance, were the rebel pickets. their outpost camp-fires were in a little grove of saplings, so close to the bank that, from our side, we could see their every movement at night by the light of their fires, and could count the number of men laying about on the ground. we imagined that we could hear their snores, so close were they. it seemed as if we were on guard over them. when their fires would burn low, one of the number would crawl from under his blanket, stir up the embers, put on some more wood, and again lie down to sleep in perfect security. there was no firing on picket-lines at that time. during the daytime there would frequently be a general exchange of agreeable, but sometimes sharp, words between the pickets. on our side there was a general order prohibiting this communication, but, when the officers were not around, we talked more freely with the rebels than we would have dared with the sentry on the beat adjoining our own. it was only necessary to call "johnny!" to get a quick "hello," or if johnny called first it was "hello, yank." but little, if any, reliable information passes through the lines in this way. the pickets out on the line, as a rule, know less about their own army than anyone else. of course a stranger, or even a soldier unknown to the officers, is not permitted on the line. [illustration: cavalry picket on the rappahannock.] what i am relating is an actual experience from real life in the picket lines. these incidents resulted in bringing about some remarkable developments that, in the days and months and years that followed, produced a sadly sweet influence on the lives, not only of myself, but upon that of some famous confederate officers and the family of captain wells; but to tell the story of the "other side," at this time, is to be left for a future occasion. this is to be a straight narrative of one experience. picture to yourselves a stormy, snowy night. the men of the relief to which i had been temporarily attached, who were to be called, could not be found, because the snow had actually covered them out of sight. soldiers who lay down on the ground to sleep during a snow storm wrap themselves entirely with the blankets, which the snow soon covers. strange as it may seem, we slept more comfortably and warmly when thus shrouded under the snow. the night i had selected to cross to the enemy was of this kind. in the early part, i had slept sweetly under this white blanket of snow, and, when called up to take my position, i felt loth to stir, with such first thoughts, perhaps, as a criminal who is awakened from sound sleep on the morning of his execution. at that time, in addition to two heavy flannel shirts and drawers, we usually wore two complete suits of fatigue uniform, one right over the other. the boots were large, and came high. over the leather we learned, in very cold weather, to draw an old woolen sock. if the reader has never tried this, he will be surprised to see how much warmth even an additional cotton sock adds when drawn over the outside of a boot. it is equal to three pairs inside. we also discovered that the placing of an old newspaper between blankets increased their warmth doubly without adding to the weight. it will be seen from this description, or attempt at one, that a union cavalryman on picket on a winter night, on the rappahannock, resembled, as he sat on his horse, something that has not yet been pictured in any war-book that i have ever seen! of course, under all this bundle of blankets and ponchos he carried across his knee his carbine, or perhaps it was "slung." as a general thing, if the night was very cold, the poor picket allowed his heavily-loaded feet to hang out of the stirrups, because it assisted the circulation and kept the feet warmer than when resting in the stirrup. determined that i should settle the question that night, at a favorable opportunity i called, in a voice that i fear was somewhat tremulous, "hello, johnny!" not getting any reply, i waited a few moments, watching intently every movement around the fire in the little grove. presently one tall fellow, with whiskers all over his face, whom i took to be an officer, called gruffly to one of the sleeping rebels, as if directing his attention to the picket-line. there were a few words or growls in a sleepy tone, and all became quiet. fearing that they would all go off to sleep again, i called out loudly, "come down to the river a minute." at this the officer got up, stared into the darkness over his fire as if the voice had come from a ghost in the tree-tops. again i called: "come over a minute; i want to give you some dry coffee." this stirred up the officer, whose pleased smile i could see by the fire-light. "hello! is that you, yank?" then, urging the sleeper to get out, the two had some sharp words, which i didn't hear. it was only a few moments before both strode away from the fire-light in the direction of the river. at the time i was so nervous that i thought it an hour's delay. our officer was conveniently absent at the time, and while i knew that i would not be molested, except as a feint, i still felt that for effect i must go quietly about this, and this feeling served to make me act the part nervously. there was a flat-boat or raft tied on the other side. this little, square, coffin-shaped craft had been manufactured by some georgia soldiers. the sides were straight up and down and the bottom flat. a good name for the thing is "a boy drowner"; that's what they call them on the river where i learned to swim. to navigate this concern, a rope had been stretched over the river and anchored at each side, the rope sinking under the water. that rope was there permanently, just in such shape as i had proposed to lay a cable. our officers only knew in a general way of its existence from the fact that the little boat was drawn or ferried almost every night by means of it. when the two rebels that i had roused from sleep had gotten close enough and began to feel along the shore ice for the boat, which was always kept on their side, i excited them to greater exertion by saying in a whisper, intended to be confidential, but which was heard easily over the river: "i've got a canteen of commissary here i will sell or trade." whisky has its uses. it enters into almost every conspiracy in some shape or other; in this case it was only to be applied as a sort of taffy. the officer called back eagerly: "all right; we'll make some kind of a dicker." the boat was scarcely safe for one and wouldn't carry double without kicking over. it was built on the theory that the one passenger would part his hair in the middle, and to get an exact balance, the "chaw" of tobacco could be shifted to that side of the jaw that required the weight. it would do well enough for a plaything in the summer time, but to risk a bath in the middle of a winter night was not to be so lightly considered. the officer insisted on the soldier coming over. by way of persuasion i heard him tell him that if he should get a little wet, the commissary that yank had would warm him up. that settled it. he came over in less time than i had taken to tell about it, jumped through the bushes and stood before me on the hard-frozen ground. nearly all of the old soldiers of the army of the potomac have been a party to these little "exchange of courtesies" on the outposts, and will understand better than i can explain just how the thing was done. for those who have not seen the reality, i would suggest a picture. the scene is on the rappahannock; the background shows the heights below fredericksburg covered with snow. the characters in real life are the rebel soldier and his boat. he stood by me wrapped in a dirty butternut blanket, in that style of drapery that only a rebel soldier or an apache indian can adapt himself to. i have already described my bundled-up appearance, topped off with a poncho. we were meeting at that lonely spot in the middle of a winter night, ostensibly to trade coffee and whisky for tobacco; but in fact it was, with me, a meeting for the purpose of hatching out a conspiracy as important in one sense, if successful, as was that of benedict arnold and major andre's meeting. i was there for a purpose, with the indirect knowledge and consent of the commander-in-chief of the united states armies. i preferred very much to talk with the officer; he would have the authority to grant me the privileges i wanted to negotiate for, before i should surrender my liberty. the man in front of me was a middle-aged, unshaven, ugly-looking specimen of a georgian or north carolinian tar-heel. all he knew was to do as his officer directed, and he was of a kind that would do that at any cost. whisky was the best or quickest way to reach his confidence. the rebel and i "drank from the same canteen" on the picket-line. he did the most of the drinking, while i only pretended to take swigs of it. the officer on the other side couldn't see what we were doing; he became uneasy and called out: "don't fool 'round thar too long." my rebel called back, "i'm a-comin' with some good stuff." he went back to his boat, hauled out a lot of leaf-tobacco, and after the style of the indians trading, laid it down, saying: "it's all i got, but there's plenty of it." i was not making a tight bargain just then, and agreed to all his terms so readily that probably, under the influence of the commissary, he could scarcely find words to express his good opinion of me, etc. i broached the subject uppermost in my mind by growling at our hard luck in having to stand out there in the cold. his reply to this put me off my pins entirely: "well, why don't you all go to your own home in your own country?" i explained that we would like to do so, but being soldiers we had to stay here against our will. i then mildly suggested that we felt like going over to their side, that we might have such comfortable fires, etc. "a right smart of your men do come over." "what do they do with them?" "oh, they are sent away down to the coast some place, where they are in no danger of getting caught by you all." that was one important point learned; they would send me off south if i should go over as a deserter. i didn't intend to be sent away so far from geno, and i decided mighty suddenly just then that i wouldn't go along back with him. the johnny started to return, when i asked him if he ever went up to the town. he had been there, but was seemingly as dumb and indifferent as an animal about everything but the whisky and coffee. "i've got some friends up in town there that i'd like to send some word to. can't you go up there and see them for me?" "why, yes, i'll do anything i can to oblige you; but i'll have to ask the captain about that, you know." then i drew from my pocket a letter or note, sealed in an ordinary envelope, addressed to captain wells, and confidentially whispered as i looked around me, as if afraid some of our officers would see or hear me: "i've a sweetheart up there, and between you and me i would like to send her some word explaining why i am here. the fact is," i continued, as the fellow reached his hand and took my letter, "i only came into this yankee army for a chance to get to see her, and if i thought i wouldn't be sent south i'd go over now." the fellow was then so much softened by the whisky that he tugged at my hand to "come right along; come on, old fellow." i only got away from him by proposing that he see his officer about it first, and if they could give me any assurance that i'd not be sent south i'd go over the next night i was on duty. again assuring him that the letter contained nothing that i should object to his officer seeing, he left me, ramming into his pocket the document containing the misleading information that general burnside's staff-officer had suggested that i personally convey. i had prepared the document myself, which was in the form of a friendly letter to captain wells and family, detailing my experience in the old capitol prison, and explaining that i had joined the army as the only means to get back there; then, as if it were an ordinary bit of news, i added the decoy information to the body of the note in these words: "i have heard from my brother, who you know is a telegraph operator at the war department, that general burnside has been ordered to cross the river again; but next time it is to be away down the river at hoop-pole ferry, so that i hope to soon be with you all once more, etc." when the rebel got back and had talked a while, and had probably given the captain a swig at the commissary, the captain called back to me to say, "thank you, old fellow; much obliged to you, sir." then, in an undertone, "are you all alone?" i signified that i was, when he said: "i know those ladies very well, and will see them myself to-morrow." what could have been better for my purpose? it will be remembered there were two older sisters, miss sue and miss mamie. i flattered myself with the reflection that geno was then too young for company--especially rebel company, or any other kind but me. in this manner i was in every way as successful in accomplishing general burnside's purpose as if i had gone over personally; perhaps more so, as there would be no doubt in the minds of the wells family that i was sincere in these statements, and they would indorse me strongly to the rebel officers. if the letter had been intercepted it would have answered precisely the same purpose. the message was delivered to the wells family, and, no doubt, the contemplated move of general burnside below town was reported to the confederate officers. while general grant was preparing for his wilderness campaign, i learned--in some way that i cannot now recollect--that captain wells was a prisoner in the old capitol. at the first opportunity i procured a pass from the provost-marshal's office in washington, and, calling at the old capitol, asked for captain wells. i was then in uniform, so that the outside attendants did not recognize in their visitor a former prisoner. in a little while the captain was shown into the room. at sight of him my heart ached. the poor old man seemed to have aged wonderfully in the year since i had last seen him. he looked at me, but his eyes were not so good, and, seeing my uniform, he probably supposed that i was one of the guard, and was about turning to an attendant to ask who had called to see him, when i spoke and reached for his hand. then his face brightened up as he heartily shook hands, and the first words he spoke, in answer to some remark about our altered appearance as he looked at my uniform, were: "we heard you were in stoneman's cavalry." general stoneman was then chief of cavalry, and the southern people, after their own manner, usually named the troops after the commander. when i asked how he had heard from me, when i could not get a word from them, he looked up with that curious smile of his, as he said, significantly: "we got word from a certain good friend of ours telling us about it." further conversation was carried on in this guarded way, as an officer sat in front of us and heard every word that was exchanged. when i asked the captain about his accommodations, and proposed sending him some fruit and eatables from the outside, he warmly thanked me, adding, with the same peculiar smile: "you know about what we get here, i suppose?" at this i had to laugh, so did the old captain, the officer between us looking curiously from one to the other, to try and discover what the joke was that created such merriment. he told me, then, something of the dreadful experiences of the family, in fredericksburg, during the bombardment and battles, declaring that he should take them away from there at the first opportunity. the interviews of visitors were limited to a certain number of minutes, and when my time was up i had to go. in a few days after the experience of negotiating the decoy over the river, the army of the potomac did move, and a demonstration was made precisely as i had indicated. but the history of general burnside's famous stick-in-the-mud march has already been so well told that i need only to add that this was his plan. if the weather had not changed, or the dreadful virginia mud had not prevented, general burnside would have crossed above the town, and might have been successful then, and redeemed himself. it is now certain that general lee would have been surprised, and have been compelled to fight the army of the potomac on equal terms, outside of fortifications, with general burnside for a leader. general hooker afterward did precisely the same thing that general burnside is so mercilessly criticized for attempting. hooker failed miserably, after he was over, and when everything was in his grasp. burnside might have managed it better in hooker's position. chapter xxx. conspiracies among union generals and northern politicians--the defense of that unappreciated army, the cavalry--hooker and dead cavalrymen--stoneman's celebrated raid to richmond truthfully described, and its failure to capture richmond accounted for--a chapter on the "secret service" not referred to in official reports or current war history. it is with considerable reluctance that i make this jump in my narrative from the date of hooker's taking command until his first active movement at chancellorsville. the months of february, march and nearly all of april were spent in comparative idleness. the massive army of the potomac, with its , men, were in their restful winter quarters on stafford heights, opposite fredericksburg. it is a great mistake, however, to suppose that there was no activity at the headquarters of that army. we were boiled and stirred up incessantly at headquarters by the little wars and inside conspiracies between our own general officers and against the war office. the secret history of some of these bickerings would be interesting reading, by way of foot notes to the articles now being contributed to the _century_ and other war books by some of those who were active participants in these traitorous schemes. i however do not know enough of it (except from personal gossip about headquarters) to permit my venturing upon any detailed exposition. sufficient is known, however, in a general way, by the survivors, who were cognizant of the affairs at the time, to bear me out in asserting that among other schemes there was a widespread, organized conspiracy among certain officers to attempt a _coup d'etat_, by which mcclellan was to be made military dictator, in place of president lincoln. this may be denied again and again, but the unadulterated facts are (and they froze so hard that winter that they will keep to the end) that there was such a conspiracy. the correspondence on the subject with the copperhead politicians in the north, who were to manage that end, is probably yet in existence. some day, when the active participators are dead and gone, perhaps the truth may be made known. on the occasion of a visit to washington during this long winter siege, i was questioned privately by the covode committee as to procuring some information on the subject. as i have stated before, i had had enough of the politician secret-service business, and did not take kindly to their making any use of me as a spy on our own headquarters. but this much was established: there were agents in washington, wearing the uniform of the union army, who were in communication with our generals in the field and politicians in the north, who personally sounded certain officers at a certain hotel room on the subject. these officers procured from this traitorous committee all the information they could, and promptly gave it to the government officials. only one more word of this: one, probably two, of the officers who procured this information are prominent officials in the government service at washington to-day. their character for reliability and truthfulness is unimpeachable. that is all i have to say on this question at present. general burnside was aware of the intrigues--to call it by a mild term--that were going on among his own officers. as a telegrapher i handled some correspondence with the war department at the time which, turned onto a screen, would make some "handwriting on the wall" that would more than surprise the war-reading public. the effect would be greater than any magic-lantern or stereopticon exhibition of battlefields. burnside wanted to arrest hooker and his friends as public conspirators. i have heard him talk and act so wildly on this subject, that i believe, if the provocation had been given burnside, he would have shot some of his corps commanders dead. this is not given as an opinion; i state that there was, and probably is to-day, correspondence on file in the secret archives that would confirm this statement. it was mr. lincoln who personally and privately, through certain friends, held burnside in check. of course burnside was a little "off" on this subject, but under the distressing conditions and treacherous surroundings of the time it is not surprising that he should lose his balance at times. general hooker probably was obliged to swallow, in secret, some terrible doses of the same medicine he and others had given to burnside. the unhappy condition of our family affairs at headquarters did not affect me directly. there was a general change of staff officers with the change of commanders. (of course the orderlies followed their chiefs.) i have heretofore explained that i was a "special," on telegraph and signal duty. my work could not be performed by every one, therefore i was let alone. in general appearance general hooker was as fine a looking specimen of a general as one would wish to see. in this respect he had but slight advantage over burnside, whose appearance was more of the "bishop" style of high-toned, gentlemanly dignity. hooker was a soldier all over. in his ordinary talk he was short and abrupt. when he came out of his office for a ride, he would strut out to his horse, mount him in a jerky way, as if in a bad humor, and ride off on a gallop as if he were going into a fight every time. he was surrounded by a staff who were of course suited to the chief. in this way the dreary months were passed at headquarters until just before the preparations began for the move to chancellorsville, when i was ordered on special secret service to go with general stoneman on his raid to the rear of general lee. i do not know either the exact date of stoneman's raid nor the number of horses used. i have nothing in the way of histories of the war for reference. desiring to secure something definite in the way of a date, i looked up appleton's cyclopedia, which is supposed to be the american standard of reference. turning to "cavalry," i found several closely-printed pages of fine type devoted to the subject. with the feeling that the entire cavalry history of our war would be condensed in this american authority, i squared myself in a comfortable position to study up the subject. after wading through a good deal of ancient history of cavalry in foreign wars--which, by the way, was commended to the americans as a model system--i at last got down to our own war. imagine my surprise, if not indignation, to find this authority stating, among other things, that the "cavalry of the army of the potomac was not effectively organized until after general grant had placed it in charge of general sheridan." this statement, so false and misleading, the writer mildly qualifies by admitting that the cavalry of the army of the potomac had been, in a manner, organized by general hooker, etc. after those few lines of stinted praise devoted to the cavalry of the army of the potomac, this historian goes on at great length to detail the history, organization and work of the cavalry in the great west. the authority of general grant is printed also for the reorganization of that arm of the service in the west, which seems to have required it too. the article shows that general grant gave general wilson _carte blanche_ to put this arm into effective service in the west. then follows a fulsome history of the western cavalry, in which the services of general wilson prominently figure. such names as pleasonton, stoneman, custer, kilpatrick, buford and gregg on our side, or stuart, wade hampton, fitzhugh lee, butler, mosby and others, on the rebel side, are lost sight of. i threw the standard american authority on cavalry down in disgust, and after walking the floor long enough to cool off a little, i turned to the index of the contributors or authors. the explanation was found in one word--it was wilson. general wilson furnished the cavalry article to appleton's cyclopedia. i may be treading on somebody's toes in this little prelude, but i feel that i shall never get on with this story until i relieve my mind on this question. there is in my mind no disposition to criticize the soldiers of the western cavalry force, but this fact should be put down, that the cavalry of the army of the potomac did as much toward ending the cruel war as any other branch of the service. hooker offered a reward of fifteen dollars for the body of a dead cavalryman. that was hooker's bluff way of talking, but the facts are, nevertheless, that the cavalry at chancellorsville did their duty and cut lee's communications, and if hooker had done his share there, the cavalry would have gathered up the trophies and laid them at his feet. hooker, like some others, talked too much. we all remember his famous message to the president from chancellorsville (which, by the way, is the only instance on record of the recognition of the almighty on the part of our general officers in the conduct of the war): "i have got lee in such a tight place that god almighty can't get him out." yet within two hours after hooker had sent this he was running his , men away from lee's , . the cavalry of the army of the potomac was composed of as fine a body of men in as were to be found in the army. our officers were such men as stoneman, pleasonton, buford, custer, kilpatrick, gregg. such men as the present commandant at west point, general wesley merritt, who was a lieutenant in my company, composed the line officers. in the rebel army, against this force, rode the best blood of the south in such men as wade hampton, j. e. b. stuart, fitzhugh lee, mosby, etc. not only this best blood in the riders, but the stock they mounted and the arms they carried were of the very best quality. the western armies had, comparatively speaking, a free field; they rode hundreds of miles unmolested, while we in virginia dare not show a head without danger of getting it hit. i am saying all this here not only to relieve my mind, but to help establish the fact that appleton's cyclopedia is way off. the cavalry of the army of the potomac made its reputation and did much of its best fighting before grant and sheridan saw it. history will prove this. if the reader will ride with me on this raid to richmond and go over brandy station battlefield, also to aldie and up to gettysburg, he will be convinced on this point. when i read of sheridan's ride down the valley, done up in poetry, song and painting, i think of buford's cavalry battle and hancock's ride to gettysburg, on the first day, when he turned defeat into a great victory. it was then and there that the great anaconda of secession and rebellion had its back broken. when grant and sheridan came out of the west, the head of the serpent was, of course, alive and dangerous, but it was scotched. therefore the cavalry of the army of the potomac earned, by hard fighting against a superior force, much of its glory before sheridan came. of course there was not much chance for the cavalry to operate while we were in our winter quarters. the river served to separate the two armies as a sort of barrier or dead-line over which it was dangerous to venture. yet, almost every winter night a large force of cavalry was detailed to ride to the upper fords to watch j. e. b. stuart's raiders. when spring opened at last, almost everybody expected and desired to get out of our tiresome quarters. therefore, when the order came to pack our five-days' rations, i may say that the cavalry arm was rejoiced. one of the reasons for my not being more familiar with the regimental brigade and corps history is that i was always on the staff. i only knew of the movements of such regiments as contained my friends, whom i visited while in camp. on the march i seldom saw any of them. we rode along in a loose, dashing way, seemingly as the spirit moved the general, without any rank formation; the orderlies bringing up the rear in the dust or mud. i was ordered to hang to headquarters closely, as it was expected that i would be of valuable aid in tapping the rebel telegraph lines between richmond and lee; also, to do any scouting or piloting in the advance to richmond, and to signal, if necessary, by rockets, from the rear or otherwise, as would be found best, over the rebels' heads, to our army signal officers in lee's front. we moved off quietly at night, crossing the river at early dawn at one of the upper fords. i don't remember whether it was kelly's or beverly's; anyhow, we had to swim our horses partly over it. i didn't know exactly whither we were bound, except in a general way, that it was to be a big raid behind lee and perhaps into richmond. we succeeded in a remarkable manner in getting started without detection. stuart's cavalry had been led off on a stern chase after some of our fellows. we passed between stuart's cavalry and lee's army. this fact is important, because the southern historians assert that general lee was not surprised by hooker's movement on chancellorsville. he was, because stuart couldn't communicate with his general. i saw at headquarters a dispatch that had been captured by our advance, which indicated this so clearly that our officers were congratulating themselves over the fact of our safety as we rode along the first day. that our movement was a complete surprise was also clearly seen by the conduct of the inhabitants. we went along quietly enough for awhile, passing houses from which perhaps we could only see a few ladies gazing at us from behind the screened windows. at one door stood an old man leaning on a cane, looking about as old folks are supposed to do when a funeral procession is passing. in the "quarters" of the contrabands, usually behind the houses, the sights were entirely different, however. big fat aunties stood out in front of their cabins, but out of sight of the houses, and waved their bare arms or their aprons at us in a happy way; old uncles lined the fences, or stood in the fields with their hoes at a "present" as we went by; pickaninnies of all sizes and shades ran around laughing, showing their white teeth and white eyeballs, capering as they do now a days when a barnum circus goes along. at the first halt over the river a sort of general order was read, or, in most cases, talked to the different regiments by their officers, to the effect that "we were in the enemy's country on an important campaign." it was, therefore, imperatively commanded that there be no straggling, no foraging, except under proper escort and under command of an officer. each man was asked to exert himself to the utmost to make the movement a success. it was also explained that the movement not only required the greatest vigilance on the part of every man in the command, but it was expected also that the powers of endurance, both of men and horses, would be taxed to the utmost. we must conceal ourselves as much as possible during the daytime and march at night. one of the towns we reached _en route_ was louisa court house. in virginia, all the county seats are named court houses. louisa was not much of a prize, to be sure, but it was directly in general lee's rear at chancellorsville. in this quiet old place we bivouacked for a half day or more, while our forces were up and down the roads, destroying railroad tracks. somewhere in this neighborhood is the railroad running between gordonsville and richmond. this track was torn up, and all the railroad route to manassas gap and washington city from the south was made useless. most of the readers know how a railroad track is destroyed in war, so i shall describe it very briefly. of course we were supplied with the "tools" for drawing spikes from the ties quickly. a number of rails at a certain point are lifted; the cross-ties are then taken up and built into a sort of open-work, brick-kiln-shaped pile several feet high, being quite narrow at the top. on top of this pile of well-oil-soaked, weather-dried logs are laid the iron rails which have been lifted from them. these are placed so that the middle of the rail rests on the ties, the long, heavy ends being balanced over the sides. a fire is kindled in the tie pile; the grease in the ties, perhaps aided a little by more combustibles, soon makes as hot a fire as comes from the top of a furnace. the ties burn up slowly, but with such a constant heat that the iron rails soon become red hot. while in this soft condition the overhanging weight of the long ends causes them to bend and twist out of shape. this renders the rails utterly useless for a railroad track. they become old scrap-iron, and must be worked over at a mill before they can be used again as rails. it cannot be straightened out by any process that will admit of its being again used in rebuilding the destroyed tracks. i saw at one point on the track where these hot rails had been lifted off the fire and twisted around the trunks of trees. after they had cooled in that shape, the only way to get the old iron was to cut down the tree and lift the loop over the stump. of course, the rebels could repair the tracks in time, but to do this required several days in which new rails could be transported to the spot. one of the purposes of this raid to richmond was to destroy the immense tredegar iron works on the james river. this large establishment supplied the confederates with nearly all their iron materials, such as cannon, shells, bridge material, and a thousand other articles necessary in war. to have effected its demolition would have most seriously crippled the rebellion. of course the details for this anticipated railroad destruction had been carefully planned before we started. all the necessary appliances for the work had been brought along. each officer knew exactly what he was expected to do, and, as a rule, they all successfully completed their tasks. it was expected that i should be of service in tapping the telegraph wires, and to me was left, in a general way, the oversight of the telegraph business. the general and his staff, to which i was attached, did not, of course, ride in the extreme advance. imagine my surprise and disgust, on coming up with a party of these railroad wreckers, to find that they had exceeded their instructions, and cut down nearly a mile of telegraph poles to burn with their ties. they had gathered the wire up and piled it in heaps on the fires. this was exactly what i did not want done. my purpose was to first tap the wires and attach my pocket instrument and have some fun out of it. another reason for disappointment was, that i had discovered--if not patented--a safer and surer method of destroying telegraph lines. of course a mile of wire is more easily transported then a mile of rails. two men can carry a half-mile coil of wire. a telegraph line can be rebuilt and used with the wire lying on trees, or even fences, in dry weather. therefore, the cutting out of a mile of poles was not an effectual interruption. my plan was--and i call attention of future war-telegraphers to it--to first take some of the small magnet wire, which is so thin as to be almost invisible, attach this to the insulator hook, or wire at the top of the pole, lead the thread of wire down the pole, imbedding it, if possible, in some seam or crack to further conceal it, and at the bottom of the pole run the other point of wire into the ground. if this is done, be the wire even as small as a silk thread, and made of copper, all electric communication is effectually conducted off its channel. each current, or wave, or signal, sent from either side of this wire will take the short cut and follow it to the ground, where it becomes lost. neither side can converse or signal over such an obstruction, and they do not know the character or location of the trouble, as the wire works as usual. of course each operator will wonder why the other does not respond to his signals, and absence is taken for granted as the reason. i had supplied myself with a quantity of this fine copper wire. finding the point nearest gordonsville where the wire had not been removed from the poles, i attached a thread of this thin wire to the line-wire and led it to the earth, so as to be concealed. i knew very well, from long experience, that the telegraph operator at gordonsville would know, from the loss of all circuit, that the wire had been destroyed at some point, and it would become his first duty to send a man out along the road to find out and repair the damage. we did not want gordonsville to know that we, the yankee raiders, were the destroyers. the piece of wire which i attached to the ground made the circuit short but complete, so that the wire worked as usual up to that concealed point, but no further. when the linemen should come out to repair breaks he would find the wire broken. this he would repair speedily and return to gordonsville without discovering the little ground-trap that i had set. in time it would be discovered, by a system of tedious and expensive tests from pole to pole, but this would probably consume several days. a broken or destroyed gap of wire could be at once discovered and rebuilt in a few hours. on the same evening, at a point some distance below this destroyed gap of railroad and telegraph wire, i drew the wire down from a convenient pole in a secluded way-side grove. it was about sundown when i, with a few helpers, was dancing around a pole when the general and staff road by. seeing us engaged in this apparently mysterious business, their curiosity was of course, aroused; we were questioned, the general and his entire staff stopping to watch the result of tapping the rebel wires. unfortunately, the premature cutting of the wires that morning had interfered with my plans for working quietly and secretly in this direction. when i got my little relay attached to the wire, you may imagine with what nervousness i took hold of the adjustment spring to feel for a signal from a distant rebel operator, probably in richmond. at first there were no signs of life on the wire. it was while my face was turned away from the instrument, talking to general stoneman of the mistake of the men in cutting the wire, that i heard a faint click on the magnet. i turned from the general abruptly, bent my ear to the little ticker, and listened with every nerve and sense strained. a second signal was soon made, which was lost to my ear by some loud talking among the staff. i nervously turned to them and ordered general stoneman and his staff to "keep still." that's a fact. the general laughed quietly, but didn't dare to open his mouth again. i made the signal for interrogation, or question, which all operators understand to mean, "i did not hear you," or "what did you say?" the answer came back "sign," which means give your signature or your office. i judged at once that, whoever it was, he'd got wind of the raid and was suspicious. i merely said, as any operator was likely to do after a wire has been interrupted, "is this wire o. k. now?" the answer came back from some point that i dare not attempt to locate by a question: "the wire has been down all day." i was compelled to break off the talk by wire to gratify the curiosity of the general and staff by an explanation. i told them i had "got" somebody, but did not know who, and was afraid to give myself away by asking any questions. the general suggested, "you had better say that the yankees cut the wires, and that they have been driven back home again." as suggested by the general, i telegraphed: "the wire was cut by those yankees on horseback, but it's fixed now." "is that so? who is it?" were the questions fired at me. "i'm a repairman sent out to fix this wire. the yankees were chased back by j. e. b. stuart to-day." "good enough. i thought jeb wouldn't allow that," were some of the expressions which were used in reply. i conveyed these messages to the general and staff, to their great delight and amusement. the general was anxious to find out whom we had on the wire. they all saw from the automatic ticking of the little machine, when my hands were off it, that it was something at a distance making the signals. to gratify the general, and get around the question, i asked: "is it 'rd?'" which is the signal i had myself heard used, when i was at beauregard's headquarters, from the richmond office. "no; it's supt.'s office." that was enough. it was the railroad general superintendent's office. i had reason to think they had been led off by this talk, and hoped that they would notify the richmond officials that the communication by wire had been restored, and that the yankees had been driven off. in reality, we had more effectually destroyed their communication. instead of being driven off, these yankees proposed moving south at once toward richmond. the general and staff rode off, evidently well satisfied with the little experiment. i was directed to lose no time in following. i "fixed" this wire to the ground, as i had the other side of the gap, and, after reporting to the superintendent's office that everything was o. k., left. i have no doubt that both the superintendent's office and gordonsville "called" each other quite a long time that evening, and perhaps each supposed the other had closed his office for the night and gone home. each one of the wires seemed to be all right; in reality it was, as far as these two taps to the ground. to make a surer tap, or to more effectually blind the regular telegraph repair force, i carried with me some leather thongs rolled into a shape resembling an ordinary piece of line wire. these bits of leather "wires" were inserted in the telegraph line and connected by the twisted joint, precisely in the same manner as the real wire. the effect is to break the continuity of the wire, or metallic circuit. a piece of this sort of leather an inch in length, inserted into the wire, as completely destroys the use of miles of wire as if miles of it had been torn down. of course, it will be understood that the leather is a non-conductor of electricity. not a wave of the current will get over it. to prevent detection, the leather, or tarred twine, should be an exact imitation of the real wire. in time it will be detected, of course, but an ordinary repairman on the lookout for a break will inspect the wire for days without discovering the hidden flaw. we traveled nearly all of that night, reaching, i think, nearly to the james river the next morning. we did not all go in a body or bunch, of course. every road was occupied by detachments of the raiders. we went as we pleased, giving to the people of the interior of virginia a sight of the federal uniform for the first and only time. a great many of those f. f. v.'s, whom we called upon at their mansions, discovered, to their chagrin, that the despised "yankee on a horse" was a good soldier and a gentleman. such men as custer, kilpatrick, buford and gregg were there. it would fill a good-sized pamphlet to tell all that i saw on this raid, so i shall condense as much as possible. we had destroyed all the railroads in our rear, and were ready to move on the direct line between fredericksburg and richmond. several days after we were out, the headquarters were resting or bivouacking at a large, old-fashioned tavern. i don't remember the name of the place, but it may be briefly described as one of those country stopping-places that are so frequent on roads traveled by stages and freight wagons. on the front of the house, along its entire length, was the wide porch, containing the usual row of benches and clusters of big hickory chairs. from this porch, doors opened into a broad hall running through the middle of the house, also into the office, or bar-room, at the end of the porch. around the corner were the benches, or sinks, containing the basins, or bowls, for washing, while on the wall were hung a row of towels on rollers. seated about this porch, promiscuously, were general stoneman and staff. they had sampled some of the whisky in the bar, and ordered warm meals for themselves. the attachés and orderlies were scattered around, as were the bodyguard. a little distance from the house was a stream of water, or "crick," which we learned emptied into the james river, near by. we were then above or west of richmond, on the james river. we were all feeling pretty tired, and, to put it mildly, we rested uneasily at the old house. the landlord was like every other landlord at such a place--pot-bellied, red-nosed, good-natured, and pompous. i had expected, when we rode off so briskly, that i should ride into fredericksburg from the rear. i felt on that side of the river, which had separated us all winter, i was sure of seeing geno at last. the great obstruction of the river, which had been in sight all winter, was now out of mind for the time being. having heard of the occupation of the town by our forces, it occurred to me that i might make a little break on my own hook, and ride up to fredericksburg. i said something about it to one of the staff-officers, who replied that i'd better hold on and go along with the rest of them. getting impatient at this point, where it seemed as if we were hiding (ourselves and horses) in the woods, i suggested going out to our advance, in hopes of finding a telegraph wire to tap for news. [illustration: tapping the telegraph wire.--"are the yanks in fredericksburg?"] this was readily agreed to. i was furnished a couple of men and directed to the nearest "main road." this, as i now recall it, was a road running west from richmond toward the valley. my impression--gathered from the colored people--was, that the road led to lexington or staunton. anyway, i followed it out some way until we found an old-fashioned telegraph line. i mean by this, one of the early kind built along the highways. there seemed to be but little travel along that route just then, so we had a good chance to get at the wire without being seen. one of the men held our horses and kept guard while another climbed or reached up to the wire from a fence. i felt sure, from its dilapidated appearance, that it was some abandoned old wire. it was rusted so deeply that it snapped asunder at the first touch of the nippers. while hastily drawing it together again i felt the shock of a live current in the hand which held the wire. this satisfied me that we would get something for our trouble. after i had inserted my instrument into the circuit, the delicate little armature was at once strongly attracted to the magnet. adjusting my spring, i discovered, to my surprise, that our cutting of the wire had interrupted some dispatches. that they were important, i gathered from the impatient manner of the operator, demanding to know why he should be stopped so long in such an important dispatch. i let the two operators fight it out among themselves for a few moments on that line, each accusing the other of being responsible for the delay. when they got started again, i quietly listened to the ticks of the sending operator. the first words seemed to be giving an account of a battle, in which certain friends had been injured. not being able to restrain my curiosity, and knowing, too, that we occupied dangerous ground on that highway, i "broke in," at the first chance, to say: "are the yanks in fredericksburg?" "not much," was the answer which came to my ears and made my heart sink. "why, i heard they were there." "they were there, but uncle bob scattered them all back, and they are running on washington. who are you?" "oh, i'm a strange operator from new orleans. i stepped in at this office to get the news, and found the operator out." "well, the news is, the yanks are all gone to h---- again, and general lee is marching on washington." i don't remember whether i thanked the richmond man or not; it's likely not, as i was so much worked up that i didn't know what i was doing. i hastily told my companions what i had heard. they indignantly denied the truth of the story, and insisted that the rebel operator was fooling me. on being taunted with this insinuation, i returned to the key to ask further questions. in the meantime the ticking kept up, and when i again directed my ear to it, i heard that which convinced me of the truthfulness of the report. a report, or long dispatch, was being sent, explanatory of stonewall jackson's being wounded, etc. without again questioning the operator, i learned beyond a doubt, in a convincing way, that there had been a battle, and that the rebels claimed a victory. that was enough for that day. we didn't stop to fool any longer with that wire, but left it open on the ground, took to our horses and galloped back to the big house. the general and staff were in the dining-room. i gave my information breathlessly to one of the staff, who communicated it to the general. at once officers were ordered to go in certain directions, to confirm, if possible, this report. in a very little while my report was so far confirmed by other scouts that the mass of the force then scattered over the country, was ordered to move back rapidly under cover of the coming night. we at headquarters lay around the house until dark, the general and officers assuming an air of cheerfulness and indifference they did not feel. in order to deceive the landlord and any rebel spies that might be hanging around about us, an order was openly issued for a large detachment to move forward, or in the advance to richmond. the officer in command was, i think, custer. he understood his business, and quietly let it be known, through his men and the colored people about, that they were all going ahead. as a matter of fact, his orders were to move cautiously in that direction and to conceal his force in the woods. at dark he was to retrace his steps and follow us, becoming our rear-guard on the retreat. we were in a tight place, a mighty tight place, being miles from our own base, not only with a victorious army between us, but j. e. b. stuart had got loose, and now had the leisure to follow us up. we must recross the rapidan and rappahannock at certain fords. i can not go into the details of this great movement. anyone who reads must see that the problem of extricating this large body of cavalry was a most difficult military feat. yet the movement was made completely and successfully by the skillful handling of the troops by general stoneman and his efficient aides--custer, kilpatrick, buford and gregg. at the time i knew general stoneman he was a little past middle age. i think his short beard and mustache were tinged with gray. in features he somewhat resembled sedgwick. he was not, therefore, a handsome man. in fact, to most persons, general stoneman had rather an austere, dignified bearing that was somewhat repellant. he was cross--awfully cross about headquarters. the boys used to call him "dyspepsia," which i think rather an appropriate title. as a rule, the pet names given the generals were suitable. some of those who had probably run against him when his hardtack and bacon did not sit well on his stomach, were fond of intimating that he had conspired to beat pleasonton and his friends out of their commands. i don't know how this was, but it is certain pleasonton was manoeuvered out of it for the time being. pleasonton recently told me this entire history. there were many "conspiracies" going on in virginia about that time. stoneman's loyalty was even questioned by some of our extra patriots from new england; probably because he was connected by marriage with an influential southern family residing in baltimore. i reckon he was one of the mcclellan-franklin-fitz-john-porter-smith-and-hooker clique. one little incident on the march will serve to show his notion of the proper conduct of the war. we all foraged a little, despite the general order prohibiting it. as a matter of fact, it was necessary that we should do so to procure feed for our jaded horses. while on these expeditions after forage for horses, etc., the men took the opportunity to buy from the colored people. we had a great supply of imitation confederate money along. indeed, the boys generally found out that any piece of paper that looked at all like a dollar bill would go among the ignorant contrabands. paper money was new to them, and it was all alike, good, whether the label off a pill-box or a genuine greenback. in this way we got around the order against foraging. we also tendered to the white people their own confederate money. if they got mad and demanded gold and silver, the boys were apt to get mad, too, and help themselves. one day a lot of us were clearing out a smoke-house in the rear of a big mansion. a certain officer--now a brigadier-general in the regular cavalry service--was in command of the detachment. we had tried to buy, but they wouldn't sell, so the boys helped themselves. in that part of the country, the farmers, being so far distant from the towns, kept a large supply of provisions on hand. in addition to hams and shoulders, etc., there was a barrel of molasses inside. every fellow there filled his canteen and everything he had with the long-drawn sweetness. it was this slow-running molasses that got us into trouble, by keeping the boys there too long, waiting their turn at the spigot. while we were leaving, stoneman and staff rode by the house. seeing us coming away loaded down with hams, etc., he halted, asked for the officer, who rode up and saluted. "what are you doing there?" yelled the general. "the men were foraging." the officer only got this word out when stoneman stopped him with an oath-- "foraging h----! you're stealing; you're leading a band of robbers." turning and putting spurs to his horse, he dashed down the road, leaving the discomfited officer standing at the head of his enlisted men, who had heard the unmerited rebuke. that officer was wesley merritt, now general. i suppose general stoneman was afterward informed that we had tried to buy, etc. on a long march of this kind, it is the horses that first give out. as a cavalryman, i believe i speak for the whole of that arm of the service in saying, that we were always willing to do without ourselves, but the poor horse must be provided for. a cavalryman may be starved and tired almost to exhaustion, but he will walk miles, in all sorts of weather, doing without sleep or rest, to carry back an armful of hay or fodder for his horse. it's one of the dreadful things to be compelled to ride, day and night, a tired, hungry, but ever-faithful horse. the men become so much attached to their horses that they will steal, and risk their lives recklessly, to get them a feed. in the regular service, the men were discouraged from forming any of these horse attachments. it was found that, when once a soldier made a pet of his horse, he was apt to be too careful of him. mr. lincoln's jocular remark, that horses had become more valuable than their riders, because the horses were getting scarce, contains a great deal of truth. more consideration was given to the horses than to the men. as an illustration of the point, the first night of this return march i was approached by an officer, who was hunting volunteers to ride in the advance to the river, to get help at the crossings. i explained that i had been out in the advance every hour and was played out, and was willing, but afraid i could not stand it. the only consolation i got from the officer was, "can your horse stand it? we will risk you." the officer explained further that he had been sent after me, because i was understood to be familiar with the country. i was not familiar with that part of the country, but i agreed to join this advance. orders were given to be prepared to move quietly when called upon, and we all layed down for a little sleep. in all the pictures of the war published, i have failed to find what i think would be one of the most striking--a squadron of cavalrymen, sleeping on their arms under their horses' noses. the horses, saddled, are all in line; the men, all heavily armed, are lying right in front sleeping, with the bridle-rein loosely fastened to their left hand. i have slept soundly, and sweetly, in a line like this. the horse will sleep and rest also. there is no fear of the horse treading on his sleeping rider. he seems instinctively to understand that they are both occupying dangerous ground and must stick together. it was while resting in this position, after the interview with the officer, that i formed a plan to go alone in advance of this advance to our army. at the first opportunity, i suggested to this officer that i should go alone and see the lay of the land. i preferred this to being one of a squad of mounted men to ride along to hunt the rebel sharpshooters. if there is anything in war that is embarrassing, it is to be on a cavalry line with orders to draw the enemy's fire. on stoneman's raid, and after, the force generally was fought dismounted; that is, no. holds the horses of nos. , and , who advance as an infantry skirmish-line. they are armed with spencer rifles, and go along gingerly over a big field, at the other end of which is a wood, to ascertain if the rebels are in that wood. the poor skirmishers know damn well the rebs are there, but their orders are to go down in this way, and find out by getting shot at. having had a taste of this sort of advance-guard service, wherein i had attracted too much rebel fire, i was anxious to be excused. my plan was to go alone on my horse as a scout or spy. i should not carry any arms to be seen, and would dress as a rebel or country farmer-boy. i thought that, in this guise, i could ride freely over the roads and get into our lines. the scheme seemed to please our officer immensely, and he reported the matter to general stoneman's chief of staff. i was ordered to report to the chief, and again unfolded my plan. he suggested, among other things, that i should, if i met any questioners, endeavor to mislead them as to the number and, especially, the route of our cavalry. a disguise was obtained; it was a dirty old jacket, borrowed from a contraband cook. several persons interested themselves in my make up; one got me a straw hat, another a pair of trousers, etc. i left all my arms except a pistol, and, when ready to go, i paralyzed them by demanding a bunch of signal rockets. i explained that i should only use them in case of extreme danger; that the appearance of a certain rocket at night would indicate that that neighborhood was to be avoided. in carrying these rockets, and exploding them, i knew that i ran great personal risk, but somehow i felt that, alone, i would be able to get through. i was only nervous and doubtful of myself when working in company. the general, or at least his staff, was most solicitous that i should deceive or mislead the people as to their real force and purpose. we only anticipated serious trouble at the fords on the rapidan, and possibly the rappahannock. the general had heard, through the captain, of some sick and wounded rebel soldiers who were returning from chancellorsville to the interior, that hooker had been defeated. he had also ascertained that the report i had brought about their marching on washington city was exaggerated. we expected, naturally, that some steps would be taken by our army to help us out. we also expected that stuart would endeavor to head us off and capture the entire force. this was about the condition of things when i started out on the road alone towards the rappahannock. for mile after mile i met nothing. at the few scattered houses i would dash up and breathlessly ask for information about the yankees. at the colored quarters i scattered the news that the yankees had gone back into the valley. on this return march, stoneman did not once show a horse on a road during the daytime. this fact probably accounts for his success. during every day the men were all concealed in suitable places. skirmishers, of course, kept guard, and, at a moment's warning, the whole cavalry force would have been up in arms as infantry behind breastworks to repel an attack. the marching was all done at night. men sleep pretty well on horseback when they are as tired out as were stoneman's raiders. a column of horses will follow each other without the use of any bridle over the most devious roads. one of the funny things about the raid was, that nearly half of the cavalrymen were bare-headed when they got back. this resulted from sleeping in the saddle on these night marches. the narrow roads we were compelled to take were overhung with the branches of trees; these stripped the hats off the sleeping beauties. very often, too, the rider in front would grasp a switch, or limb, and hold on till he was safely passed; then, without a thought of the sleepy rider in his rear, he would let go, and the switch, flying back, would strike the man in the face. this sort of thing wakened up a good many sleepers and made some disturbances in the ranks. it had the effect, also, of making the faces of those who caught the switch look decidedly as if they had come out of a free fight, especially if they were hatless. my ride along during that day was without special incident. i was more than surprised to find the path clear of rebel soldiers. i did all that was expected of me as a scout, in circulating freely the false information that our force had gone the other way. with a great deal of trepidation i approached the crossing of the rapidan. i knew that, if there was a force of rebels any place in our path, they would be there. i inquired particularly of everyone i would meet if there were any yankees on the road. i knew very well that, in asking this question, i'd find out whether there were rebels around. there were no yankees there, but a few of the rebels had been seen over the river in the morning. here was my dilemma. the crossing was clear now, but how long it would remain so was uncertain. i was too far from our men to make any signal to them that the road was clear. i didn't like to venture over the river alone, where those rebels had been seen. the important thing was to report that ford clear. i staked my horse in an adjoining grove, determined to conceal myself until night. as the early evening wore on and no enemy showed themselves, i became impatient at lying idle, and boldly determined to ride back to our force before dark. i knew very well that, once we were safely over that river at this crossing, with its steep precipitous banks, with our men in force, we had a clear field for a run, or a fight with j. e. b. stuart to the rappahannock. therefore i rode back at a gallop over all the long road. just after dark i met the advance of our force,--the same i had been asked to volunteer with. hastily informing the officer in command of my observations at the ferry, that the crossing was not occupied, etc., he reported to the general. in a little while there came dashing up the road the head of our column. nobody stopped to thank me for the good news that we could get over the river, but all were intent on getting there at once. in a word, the entire force got over all right, and, in due time, we crossed the rappahannock, and were once more safely within our own lines. i do not know the figures for this raid. i have drawn my recollections of it to an abrupt termination. my impression is, that we lost nothing of material importance. we captured a good many prisoners, probably more than we lost. my notion is that the cavalry can boast that we brought back the force intact. one great good was accomplished by the raid--the rebels were again taught to show more respect to a yankee on horseback. it was hooker who failed, not his cavalry. the truth should not be overlooked, that the partial success of the expedition was not due to general hooker, nor even to his lieutenant, general stoneman. the one man to whom more credit is probably due than any other was general alexander, the chief of staff of the cavalry corps, who served both with stoneman and pleasonton. it was he who planned and organized this great raid; it was his object and aim to go to richmond, and that we did not go in while at the back gates of the city is to be charged solely to stoneman or hooker. this is not an opinion merely. i rode close by general alexander one day, and heard him with my own big ears urge, yes plead with stoneman to go on into richmond anyhow. i heard stoneman's voice utter the words: "i know d---- well we can do it, but my orders are not to go to richmond." general alexander was a large man, with a full beard, who talked in a slow, deliberate voice, but always in a kindly manner. he became somewhat ruffled at stoneman's declining to act upon his suggestion, and i recall very distinctly how this ordinarily quiet man became as much interested in his subject as a methodist preacher or politician in an argument, on horseback. both were so intent upon the question that neither took any notice of the little orderly in a dirty uniform who was riding near them. my impression then was that stoneman was too much of a regular of the old school to disobey an order, even if he knew it would result in great good to his cause. whether there was such an order from headquarters can perhaps be established from the records-- that one could have gone into richmond was freely admitted by the general officer in command. we returned to our old camps at fredericksburg again. in this way i hovered about that ill-fated fredericksburg during all that winter, and until the movement to gettysburg, without once having an opportunity to get into the town, though our troops had been there. it was my luck to have been absent at the time. for some unfathomable reason, the fates were against me every time. i shall never do this subject justice until i write a novel, giving the entire story. fredericksburg during all these days presented, from our side, a gloomy, deserted appearance. there were always a few confederate sentries on duty, which we could see on the streets. at the river crossing, or ferry, an occasional flag-of-truce boat would be rowed over, but on these occasions the general staff-officers conducted the courtesies. men and orderlies were invariably placed to prevent any but the two officers interested from getting a word with the confederates. right here i will remark that i've witnessed innumerable flag-of-truce exchanges, but i do not recall a single instance in which a bottle was not passed around as a preliminary to the business in hand. i presume the custom originated from the indians smoking the pipe of peace. one funny remark on an occasion of this sort remains in my memory. an enlisted man near me, seeing a rebel taking a long pull at the flask of union commissary, which our officer presented with a supercilious bow, said: "well, i'm ---- if this is not getting to be too much of a civil war." he probably felt disgusted because he did not have an opportunity at the flask. one day i was startled by the sounds of artillery, and an accompaniment, which, to me, resembled more than anything i can compare it with, a whole lot of carpenters tearing down a frame house. one would have thought there was a man with a hatchet, pounding sharply on every board, as if they were having a contest among themselves to see who could hit the fastest. i rode hurriedly down to the river, below town, to see what it was all about. in those days, i never stopped to ask anybody's advice or consent, but followed my own impulses and inclinations. i passed some general officers and staff on a hill-side near the batteries that were firing, who had their glasses pointed in the direction of the hammering. when i got to the river, as close as my horse could go without jumping down the steep bank, i saw, to my surprise, that from all along the rifle-pits that lined the top of the bank on the rebel side was a line of white smoke--indeed, the smoke almost concealed the rifle-pits. it was from behind this bank of foggy smoke that all the hammering noises came. it was caused by the sounds of hundreds and hundreds of rifle-shots "at will," but in such rapid succession that it resembled, as i have said, innumerable hammers on a frame house. my horse could not get me close enough to see down to the edge of the water on our side, and i was about to dismount and get closer, when i saw coming up the steep road, that had been cut in the bank, a procession that took the blood out of my heart. there were two men dragging (not carrying) a dead soldier, while a closer glance showed all along the side of that steep bank dozens of others, either dead or dying. it was the engineer corps of the army of the potomac that were down there behind that bank trying to lay a pontoon bridge over the rappahannock. the artillery "support" had no more effect in quieting that incessant hammering than if their shots had been fired into the air. i stood there for a while, absolutely paralyzed, at a distance not much greater than the width of a street, watching those rebels bob up all along that rifle-pit, puff out the white smoke, and their heads go down behind the long line of yellow clay out of sight, all along the line. i have often since wondered that one of those fellows did not pick me off my horse, as i sat there an absurdly-conspicuous mark. if they had not been so busy watching those who were trying to lay that pontoon, they would undoubtedly have dropped me. my position on the horse would naturally be taken for that of an officer. i assert here that more desperate or more heroic service has never been performed than by those of our engineer corps in their laying of pontoons in the face of the enemy's fire from rifle-pits. it seemed to me, on a closer inspection of the work that day, that they carried out a dead man for every plank they laid on the pontoons. when it is remembered that these men necessarily work _en masse_, and that almost every shot from an enemy must hit something, it will be seen how much exposed to deadly fire the quiet engineer corps become. in the charges on rifle-pits or forts, or on an enemy's line, there is always something of the excitement of a rush or hurrah that impels men forward with loaded guns and pointed bayonets in their hands; but, in laying pontoons over a river in the face of the enemy, a courage and nerve are required that, to my notion, is far beyond the ordinary. i often wonder that some of the accomplished engineer officers do not give this matter their attention in the histories of the war that every other branch of the service is showering upon the land. these men, supported by the artillery and a few infantry, succeeded at last in getting so many boats launched that the rebels concluded it was time to quit bothering them any longer, when, all at once, every rebel popped from behind his rifle-pits, took to his heels and ran for dear life across the plain toward the hills. of course, our artillery opened upon them at a lively rate. in spite of the fact that the dead and wounded were thick around me, i yelled with as much fun and delight as i have since at baseball games to see a man make a home-run. not a single johnny dropped, though they threw their guns away to lighten them in the race for the home-run. this occurred some distance below fredericksburg, and as there did not seem to me to be any intended movement of troops over the pontoons, which had been laid at such a terrible sacrifice of life, i rode off to the upper fords near the lacey house, expecting to get over there. i was told, on reaching headquarters, that this was simply a "diversion," to detain, or ascertain if the enemy were still in our front. great scott! what a disappointment to me. what a terrible thing is war, that will permit, as a simple diversion, the murdering in cold blood of hundreds of men without intending to profit by their work at all. the services of a single reliable spy, or scout, would have accomplished more than all of this diversion. that evening the staff moved off and i went along. i did not know then where we were going. i supposed, as did everyone else, that it was to be another battle somewhere near fredericksburg. it never occurred to my mind then, that, in riding away from the lacey house that june evening, i should never see it again. i do not suppose a dozen persons outside of general lee's staff, imagined we were going to ride home to pennsylvania--to gettysburg. that's where we went. and, before leaving fredericksburg, i wanted to say a few words of farewell to geno. there are one or two old, old songs, which have always remained such particular favorites with me that my friends have learned to expect me to call for them, in season or out of season. i mention them now for the benefit of the sons and daughters of veterans, and the other friends, young and old, who have followed the "boy" in his love-making under the great difficulties that a war develops. they are beautiful songs besides and the words and melody more clearly define the romance than my pen could describe. i have already detailed the experiences with geno, who so gracefully handled a guitar in her beautifully-formed bare arms, as she skillfully played an accompaniment to "juanita." it was that old, old song and "them" eyes that put me in old capitol prison. i would advise any of the young lady readers, with black hair and pretty eyes, to get a guitar and practice "juanita" on the boys. it will bring them down every time. another old favorite is "evangeline," which so fully expresses my sentiments on the past. surely, there never was a sweeter and more appropriate love song than my "lost evangeline." while the song of separation is the sweetly familiar "in the gloaming." another beautiful air and words is entitled "someday"--strikingly expressive of future hopes. this i heard sung first in the parlor of a hotel in the far, far west, when i was traveling in california, where it had the effect of making me homesick. since the close of the war, i have wandered all over the land, like gabriel in search of his evangeline. i was shipwrecked on the pacific ocean at the mouth of the columbia river, in the extreme northwest. i sailed up the columbia river with some such feelings as an explorer must experience on discovering a new continent. i visited the eternally snow-capped mount hood, rode around puget sound to british columbia, went over the cascades and the dalles, in oregon, to the western slope of the rocky mountains in montana, thence over miles of wild mountain roads in oregon and california on stage coaches, where indians and stage-robbers thrive. i have lived in san francisco, spent part of a winter in los angeles, lived among the mormons in utah for six months; in truth, i have been everywhere, but i have not yet found a trace of the long-lost geno. while i have not exactly been searching for geno on these travels, i have never given up the hope of some day seeing her, and as long as i live i never shall. i don't know how it may be with geno; it is likely she has a good husband--better than i would have been--and that she is devoted to him and her family; but, in my secret heart, i hope the old saying will prove true, that a woman never forgets her first love, and that some day, in some unseen manner, geno may read this and see that i have not forgotten her. this has been to my life only a sweet memory, which i shall cherish fondly as such to the end. "her bright smile haunts me still." "dear as remembered kisses after death, and sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned on lips that are for others; deep as love, deep as first love, and wild with all regret; oh, death in life! the days that are no more." after leaving falmouth, the headquarters of cavalry corps were quartered in an old house somewhere convenient to the railroad and telegraph wires that run into alexandria. it was probably close by the sixth corps' position, as general sedgwick occupied the same house with his staff, and as their horses were tied about the fences. one little incident will serve to locate me. general pleasonton was then the chief of cavalry, to whose general staff i was afterward attached. he also occupied rooms in this same building. late one night a message was brought in to me to deliver to the general. the building we were in had been apparently deserted by the family. i was told by some of the officers that i'd find general pleasonton in his room up stairs. i went tramping up the uncarpeted steps, with my big cavalry boots and spurs rattling and resounding through the great empty hall in the "wee sma' hours," so that i awakened colonel blake, who was wrapped up in his blanket trying to sleep on the hall floor. the old colonel gave me a terrific blast from his bugle mouth, which awakened every officer in the house. some one crawling from under another blanket pointed to general pleasonton's room, which i entered unceremoniously, glad enough to get any place out of sound of the old colonel's voice. i found general pleasonton, by the aid of the commissary candle i carried for a lantern, lying asleep on an ambulance stretcher. at the head of his couch stood an empty cracker-box, on which was the remnant of his student lamp--about an inch of candle--along side of which were two derringer pistols. probably because i was nervous or rattled, by the fuss i had raised in the hall outside, i abruptly awakened the general, at the same moment stooping down to light his candle with mine. the general must have been having a nightmare. the moment i spoke he started up, grabbed for his pistols, and scared me so badly that i dropped the candle on the floor, leaving us in the dark, retreating to the door, as i said: "don't shoot; it's me." after another "blessing" for my midnight endeavor to deliver a message, i got the matter straightened out. i was telling general pleasonton of this incident recently, which he recalled in his usual pleasant manner, though he insists that he never carried a pistol during the entire war. general pleasonton was certainly one of the most courteous, gentlemanly general officers in the army of the potomac. it was my privilege and pleasure to be near his person a great deal up to gettysburg, and i cannot recall a single instance of his using harsh or ungentlemanly language toward his associates. indeed, the general had more the appearance and manner of a presbyterian minister than of a dashing cavalryman. during the war, he wore his full beard closely trimmed, going about the camps in his quiet, easy way, like a chaplain. it was custer, and kilpatrick, and gregg, who possessed the dashing, dare-devil style. buford, like pleasonton, was an old regular, and went about among his troops as if the war was a business that could not be hurried. i saw general pleasonton angry one day at a matter that seemed so trifling that all the staff enjoyed the affair. his servant, or hostler, who took care of his blooded riding horse, had been regularly supplied by the general with a little cash, to be used in keeping a supply of loaf or lump sugar on hand. it was the general's habit before mounting to receive from his hostler a lump of the sugar, which he fed himself to his horse. it is said, you know, that the feeding of a lump of sugar to a horse regularly has an effect similar to love powders, and creates a peculiar attachment of the horse to the feeder of the sugar. on this occasion, either the contraband had spent the sugar allowance for "commissary," or some one desired to play a trick on the general by substituting some lumps of drugs from the hospital steward's chest for the sugar. the horse found out the deceit and kicked on it, and investigation showed the general that he had been trifled with, and he was very mad about it. it is probably true that general pleasonton, as the chief of cavalry, will be held responsible for not having obtained information of general lee's escape from fredericksburg. i have talked with general pleasonton as recently as the summer of on this subject, but his explanation would make an interesting chapter in itself and does not pertain to this narrative of facts. i hope it may not be considered egotistical in me to observe here that i, as a scout and spy at headquarters, was in no way responsible for the lack of information of lee's departure. i was not chief of the secret service. i cannot resist the temptation to say right here, in connection with my proposed services with burnside, that, if he had remained in command, i would have been doing signal duty from geno's house in fredericksburg, or from some point in the enemy's lines. if i had gone over the river, as proposed, and had mixed with the confederates as a spy, i certainly would have secured information of the movement of two of lee's corps. i should most assuredly have been able to have signaled this information over the river, and then and there general hooker would have received the credit for having "so wonderfully divined the enemy's movements and thwarted his purposes." the poor, despised spy would probably have been hung, and his services never been heard of. chapter xxxi. farewell to fredericksburg--general pleasonton--cavalry fighting at brandy and aldie--looking after stuart's rebel cavalry--a couple of close calls--chased by mosby's guerrillas--with custer in frederick, md--the day before the battle, flirting with the girls. just how long we of headquarters were on the march from fredericksburg to gettysburg is beyond my recollection. we went the longest way around to get there, i think, but we will hurry the reader along the war-path to gettysburg. as it was pleasonton's business to find out where lee was going, we had to cover considerable ground in chasing the devil (stuart) around the bush. the first incident or date of importance was the great cavalry battle of brandy station, which has been so fully written up that i only need to mention that i was "thar or tharabouts"--in the rear of a haymow. it was buford, of my brigade, who should have the credit of manoeuvering the cavalry there. in result, it rather astonished the confederates. after this encounter, a "yankee on a horse" was more respected by them. it was the only cavalry battle of the war. we had other little skirmishes on the outposts, of no particular interest to this narrative. one little circumstance remains vividly fixed in my mind in connection with our cavalry skirmish along the rugged, rough blue ridge mountains or gaps. at one point--middleburg, i think--we had a rumpus with some of imboden's, or stuart's, men, who were opposed to our looking through the gap to see what lee was doing in the valley. i had been sent out to scout, and for this mounted secret service a second man was sent along. the instructions were to get on some untraveled road and reach the top of the mountain, or, at least, some position from which we could use our signal glasses to view the valley on the other side. it was understood that lee was moving down or up the valley, but pleasonton desired to know just what infantry force was yet in front. to obtain this information, two of us started out alone about three or four o'clock one morning, hoping to get a secure place in the woods on a mountain-top by the light of an early dawn, where we would remain quietly all day, using our glasses from tree-tops, etc., and signal back from the mountain. now, bear this in mind, we were to signal back, indicating our position by the old indian plan of a column of smoke. the signal men about headquarters, seeing the smoke ascend, would level their glasses at the point from which it was supposed to originate. we rode along quietly enough, without meeting anyone, and dressed so that we would have passed ordinarily for the guerrillas that infested the country thereabouts. i was particular, however, to keep on my uniform jacket and pantaloons, saber, etc., though i disguised them by rents and rags as much as possible. i knew very well that to have been captured in the disguise of countryman meant being hung as a spy. the uniform and arms protected me from detection and immediate execution. we got to a point in the road from which we turned into the woods, leading our horses over the rough growth of underbrush a half mile or so, where we securely tethered them in a little ravine, safe from observation. the poor, tired horses were only too glad of a chance for a little rest and quiet, and on this account we did not fear their making any noise. laboriously climbing up the rough mountain on foot with our paraphernalia, we at last reached a point from which we had a clear view of a certain portion of the country on the other side. we saw nothing at all like an army below us; in fact, the confederate army had previously passed out of sight at that point, _en route_ to gettysburg. i turned in leisurely to make our coffee and "smoke," while my chum stood guard with his glass. after climbing half a dozen trees, to try to get a back view, we at last were compelled to give up, because of the presence of a dense wood below, behind which our headquarters were sunken completely from our sight. as the next best thing to do, we made the signal of "two smokes," which had been previously agreed upon to signify "no enemy in sight." we remained long enough in the mountain to satisfy ourselves that there was no enemy there and not likely to be, and, as we could not flag back, we decided to smudge the two fires, so that the two smokes would be seen for some time after we should leave on our return. finding the horses all right, and feeling so well satisfied that there was no enemy near enough to trouble us, we probably became too careless. on reaching the road, i proposed riding ahead on the road to the summit before returning. my companion, who, by the way, was chief clerk of our adjutant-general, and, being as big a fool as myself, consented, so we trotted on up the road, feeling perfectly safe. at a point right at the summit, probably, we were paralyzed to see a blockade or rifle-pit across the road. we abruptly stopped at the sight of this, but receiving no salute of welcome, we sidled to one side of the road to make room for any cannon-balls that might want to pass down. not stirring anyone, my friend suggested that it had been abandoned. feeling assured by the deserted-looking appearance of the road, we were ready to advance again when, on looking to one side of the road in a direction we had not thought of scrutinizing, my comrade observed, as he jerked in his horse: "there's a man over by that old barn," pointing to the right, and then in hurried tones: "there come two more around the corner." i looked in the direction indicated and saw a half-dozen mounted men at the edge of a wood; but the first one wore blue clothes, so i reassuringly said: "why, it's some of our men who are out here foraging." "no; i'm ---- if it is. i'm going to get out of range, anyhow;" with that he turned his horse's head. i kept my eye on the men, and saw, to my horror, two of them raise their guns and point at us. as quickly as if i had been shot, i jerked my horse around and dodged my head on the other side of his neck; the horse turning suddenly as i made this motion, threw me entirely out of the saddle on to my feet on the ground. just as i turned there were two shots in quick succession. as we were within very close range, the rebel cavalrymen seeing me dropped out of the saddle, stopped firing, supposing, of course, i was hit. the funny part of it was, my companion's horse had been so accustomed to going "double" that he could not be made to budge a step until my horse was ready to go along with him. i had not lost the reins and was soon in the saddle, hanging by the neck of the horse. i spurred him for dear life and led the other horse out of the scrape. it was a close call, and i have not the least doubt but that my fall out of the saddle saved us both, as they supposed we were sure game and didn't follow up until we were galloping down the road, there being a fence between us. these men were part of the confederate cavalry that had been on the very mountain below us all the time we had been in the woods above. we returned to camp at aldie, reported the matter, and were complimented highly as "two ---- fools." during these every-day cavalry skirmishes, while _en route_ to gettysburg, i saw a great many horrible sights in the way of wounded cavalrymen and horses. one of the most disagreeable, to me, was to see them carry a dead soldier across a led horse's back, while a companion walked along side, holding him steady by the heels, precisely as if the man was a bag of potatoes, or corn, going to mill. there was a great deal of this, which seemed to be the only method to get the dead out of those mountains, where ambulances could not travel. it is not pleasant to think or write about; but, dear me, i sometimes feel as if all the horrible truths should be told. in the war-papers we find but little mention of the rough manner of taking care of the wounded, and the disgusting disposition of the dead heroes. as general sherman says: "i don't want to make any more speeches about the war--it's not a pleasant subject. you know, boys, as well as i do, that war is hell." i will just observe, in passing, that a chapter on the "ruling passions" and dispositions of men, as they lie in field hospitals, would be a curious study. my observation has always been that the big, blustering fellow, who was often a bully in camp, on getting a little wound, was the fellow to make rome howl when he got under the surgeon in a hospital. quiet, inoffensive boys, probably lying near him with serious and painful wounds, were compelled to hear the booby howl like a school-boy who had stumped his sore toe. we were at aldie several days. general hooker's headquarters were somewhere about fairfax court house, some ten or twelve miles distant, or to our rear. between this cavalry outpost and the army of the potomac communication was kept up over one of the best of virginia pikes. i think it must be a section of the national pike, leading to winchester and the west; anyway, it is a good and a very straight road, running up and down the hills, so that it seems to be always in sight. i remember the road very distinctly, from an adventure with guerrillas over it. i had been ordered to take a lot of quartermaster and paymaster papers into washington from the adjutant-general's headquarters. a headquarters ambulance, driver and two good horses were furnished me to reach the railroad at fairfax station. mr. emerick, the civil-service telegrapher who had been at our headquarters, accompanied me on this return to washington. this was the same operator whom i had described at aquia creek, while _en route_ to old capitol. he did not recognize me at all, and, of course, i was not anxious to identify myself. being on the move, there was no telegraphing to do, and he, as an independent civilian, left the army for washington when he desired to do so, without consulting the generals in the field. right here i will say, as serving to further emphasize the policy of the telegraphs as well as the signals being under military control, that the army of the potomac was practically without a word of telegraph communication with washington from the time they left fairfax and the railroad until two days after the battle of gettysburg. there was, of course, some telegraphing from frederick, maryland, but it was not reliable, as stuart was somewhere between the lines. this is an important fact that should not be forgotten. the civil telegraphers abandoned the army when they saw proper, and this at a time when it was most important of all the war that they should have been in communication with washington. the signal corps, on the other hand, established and operated a line of signals all along the march from sugar loaf mountain to south mountain, monterey, green castle, pennsylvania, up to parnell's knob, in the cumberland valley, pennsylvania. the ambulance that brought us to the railroad was ordered to await my return from washington. i reached alexandria in the evening, when i was met by my elder brother, spencer, then in charge of the railroad telegraphs. my brother took me to his boarding-house to spend the night. he, having recently married a wealthy maryland lady, miss katie hyatt, of hyattsville, was living in considerable style for alexandria war times. i therefore felt quite uncomfortable in their society, dressed only in my hard-used uniform. when shown to my room, in which was a comfortable, clean bed, i couldn't think of occupying it, so slept on the floor alongside, more comfortably than if i had been between the clean sheets. the next day i delivered my package of papers, muster-rolls, pay-rolls and a whole haversack full of adjutant-general's papers to the proper officers at the war department, and started on my return via alexandria and the railroad to fairfax. i found the ambulance waiting for me all right, and we at once started off via fairfax court house. here i found a headquarters horse, and as the ambulance was to be detained at fairfax for a couple of hours, waiting an escort to convey it out to aldie, i concluded to ride on out in advance. it was not a very sensible conclusion, to be sure; but, as i have so often said, i did not have very much sense, and acted usually as the spirit moved me, without thinking about the probable consequences. i rode along nicely for several miles, passing our infantry and outposts, who were stationed along a little run some distance in advance of fairfax court house. along in the evening, just about sunset, i reached a hill-top, from which i could see the road straight ahead over a valley and thence up another hill. the road on the other hill ahead of me was cut through a dense wood, such as is usually found on these hills. i discovered something ahead, apparently standing in the road on the top of the further hill, but paid little attention to it, supposing it was merely a wagon-train stopping for a feed or going into camp for the night. i rode on down the hill carelessly, getting almost out of sight of the hill-top beyond while in the valley below. seeing considerable smoke ahead, i was confirmed in my first impression that it was a wagon-train camp just lighting their camp-fires. on coming closer, i observed a great deal of bustle around the wagons, but, as that was nothing unusual among a lot of teamsters and mules, i paid but little attention to it, and jogged along on my horse, singing to myself the popular song of those days, "gay and happy." but when i came in full view, and so close that i could see a wagon on fire, i began to get suddenly interested. men were flying around at a lively rate, as i supposed putting out the fire. i didn't exactly like the looks of the thing, and determined, in my own mind, to reconnoiter and advance slowly. discovering a little, old house in the edge of a clearing to the side of the road, a short distance from the scene i have described, i rode into the little yard, and called to a woman who was holding a baby in her arms: "who are those men up the road?" "soldiers, i reckon, sir." "yes, i know; but what soldiers?" "colonel mosby's soldiers, i reckon, sir." that was enough. i had a package of reports and papers and some private letters in my pocket, to deliver to pleasonton and other officers about headquarters. feeling sure of my belt, pulling my cap down tight over my face, i took a short grip on the reins. "what are they doing up there?" "they done captured that wagon-train, sir; and i reckon they will burn the wagons when they get the horses away." i turned my horse back to the main road, feeling a little nervous, but determined to run for my life. the moment i got into the road, and without looking up at the burning wagons, i turned my horse's head back and put spurs deeply into his flanks. i had not made five jumps before i heard the cracks of at least a dozen rifles. this only nerved me to more desperate lashings with spurs, leaning forward to the horse's mane as i thrust the spurs into him at every jump. they came after me, yelling like a band of comanche indians; but i had a good start, and their guns were empty. it was a good race for about three miles. i won, and saved my neck again. as i reached the picket-lines that i had passed, i reported to the officer in command that guerrillas were burning our train, but this fellow--a colonel--refused to cross his men over the run to help to save them. [illustration: "colonel mosby's soldiers, i reckon, sir."] i rode on back toward fairfax and met some officers of hooker's staff, giving them my adventure. while i was talking to them, we heard sounds as if a distant blast was going off. looking ahead over the straight road, in the direction whence i had retreated, we saw a dense cloud of white smoke, like a fog-bank, rise over the tops of the trees. hooker's aide said: "well, those fellows will get badly fooled if they are burning that ammunition train." that was it. they hurried back to fairfax, and, there being no other cavalry available, hooker sent out his bodyguard--rush lancers--whom i piloted back to the hill-top. when we got near, one or two wagons were yet unburned, but as they were surrounded by the debris of the explosion, we were afraid to go near, lest another wagon-load of ammunition would go off. i have read mark twain's old joke regarding his bravery, in being in the army where cannon-balls and bullets were thickest--right where whole wagon-loads of ammunition were going right past him--but after this experience with a wagon-train, i'm willing to admit this as about as dangerous as anything in an army. i saved my papers, my life, and got back to aldie and headquarters that night under the escort of hooker's bodyguard--or "turkey drivers," as we called them. it was pleasonton's cavalry scouts that definitely ascertained that lee had crossed the potomac into maryland. we of the headquarters moved rapidly from aldie, crossing the potomac at some point near leesburg. i think it was the sunday preceding the contact with lee that headquarters spent in frederick, maryland. we were comfortably quartered at the city hotel, on a main street of that old town. it was one of the old-fashioned country taverns, with a big yard or court in the rear, for the accommodation of the country teams that visited the city on market days. on this particular sunday the stables were filled with the horses of the headquarters staff, while the yard was crowded with ambulances, baggage-wagons, commissary supplies, etc. custer was with us in frederick all of that sunday, and spent most of his time at the big parlor window up-stairs flirting with a couple of quite young girls who lived opposite the hotel. the people usually lived above their stores in the town, and i remember very distinctly the name on the sign was spelled "schley"; so, if there were one or two misses schley in frederick in , their children will have the testimony of a very-much-interested eye-witness that their mothers were beautiful ladies, who so attracted the handsome general custer that he almost forgot all about his cavalry pickets who were on the south mountain hunting stuart's lost cavalry. in those days custer wore his hair long; it was quite curly, and touched the blue velvet boyish-looking jacket which he always wore; this, with the long, loose ends of the invariable red necktie, gave the cavalry hero a very picturesque appearance, especially when he dashed along on his horse with all the staff and orderlies spurring after him in the dust. as i remember, we of the cavalry were after j. e. b. stuart. no one seemed to know where he was; even general lee was at that time in entire ignorance of stuart's whereabouts. chapter xxxii. sent to find general buford--a hasty ride--the battle of gettysburg--cemetery ridge--general doubleday--general hancock--the second day of the battle. it was the rebel scout, harrison, who gave to general lee the first information about the close pursuit of hooker. this one faithful tramp rebel soldier carried on foot to lee and longstreet at chambersburg the important intelligence that hooker had crossed the potomac, and general lee, on the report of this single scout, in whom he had implicit confidence, issued orders at once recalling his forces from the front at harrisburg, and concentrating his entire strength at gettysburg. i mention this fact, because it is the only instance on official record of a great general giving credit to his scout or spy for important secret service. this solitary scout succeeded in doing for general lee alone what was expected of stuart's large cavalry force, and which they failed to accomplish. i was sent out from frederick with orders to find general buford, who commanded the cavalry division in the advance. it was expected that i would be of service in military signaling, and especially in opening up communication with washington and baltimore by wire. this was my special duty, and when we ran into a country where there were telegraph wires, i became quite an important fellow; all the generals being so anxious to get or send news, they cheerfully afforded me all the detail of soldiers i could use to help me. i found buford, but when i got to him he was so busy out on the hill, on the morning of july st, that he didn't have any time to talk to me. the night before the battle i spent with some of buford's headquarters men near a town called, i think, middletown or middleburg, maryland. it being very late when i got up to them, i turned my horse into a little stable, or barn, belonging to the house at which the boys had quartered themselves. headquarters usually selected a good, hospitable-looking house for their temporary quarters, you know. thoroughly tired out with my hard day's ride in the sun, while hunting buford all over that part of the country, i lay down in the haymow of the stable, and was soon sound asleep, and wholly oblivious to all surroundings. i think that i must have had two sleeps that night, instead of one long one. probably it was on account of my secluded position that i was not awakened until late the following morning, and then it was by buford's first guns at gettysburg. rubbing my eyes open, i saw, with astonishment, that the bright sun was peeping through the cracks of the old barn. the sound of each distant gun served to hasten my hay-loft toilet, and sliding down out of the haymow as quickly as a fireman gets down his pole, i had the saddle on the horse and was ready to travel, in either direction, in as short a time as the fire-engines get their rigs ready when an alarm is sounded. in my hurry i did not take time to count out an exact dozen of eggs from a nest in the manger, from which my sudden appearance had scared the old hen. she expressed her surprise and indignation in a great deal of noise, but i took no notice of her protests, and slipped, with a dexterity that only a cavalryman of the army of the potomac had acquired, the whole lot into my haversack, nest-egg and all, and hastily threw it over my shoulder. getting outside, i was further surprised to discover that the place had seemingly been abandoned in the night, not only by headquarters, but by the occupants of the house. there was not a soul to be seen, and without being exactly sure whether i was within the enemy's lines or our own, i mounted and hastily spurred on toward the sound of the guns, that was becoming more frequent. i only knew that i was on pennsylvania soil, my native state, and within a day's ride from my birthplace, and hoped that i should find myself among friends. there was certainly enemies where the firing was going on. i had not gone far until i met a farmer's wagon loaded, apparently, with every member of his family, and, no doubt, all their worldly goods that they could pile into it. when i stopped them to ask about the racket down the road, all of them began to talk at once, in broken pennsylvania dutch, about "the war down below town." i learned further from some scared natives and some stragglers in blue, that were scurrying along the road, and were becoming thicker the nearer i got, as they put it, "the rebels are fighting with our men on the other side of town." that was enough for me. i was young and active, and, as a pennsylvania boy, i was most anxious to participate in some way in fights that were to take place in my own state. i made that old horse dash along the road to the battlefield of gettysburg, for about four miles that morning, in a way that would have put to shame general sheridan's ride down the valley. if my celebrated ride could have been done up in poetry and set to music, it would, as a parody on sheridan's ride, go down into the literature of the century after the style of john gilpin's famous ride at the sound of artillery. i'd give the old nag the spurs and make him jump ahead as if the cannon-balls were after instead of ahead of us. that beautiful morning of july st, as i rode along that old pike, the one fear uppermost in my mind was that the battle of gettysburg would be all over before i could get there. i felt that i should never be able to meet my pennsylvania friends again if it should unfortunately happen that buford would drive the rebels out of the state without my assistance. that's what made me in such a hurry. i was delayed a little on the road by an accident. i had noticed, while tearing along, that there was an awful bad air in that part of the country, but i had, as a soldier, become accustomed to bad smells hovering about an army in virginia, that i didn't take much account of it--rather satisfying myself with the reflection that the smell simply indicated the presence of the rebel army in the neighborhood. but it became so oppressive that i checked up my mad-anthony-wayne gait long enough to look around me. it was the eggs in my haversack. in my excitement, i had forgotten all about them, and, of course, every time my horse galloped the haversack, being strung loose to my saddle, tried to keep time, but couldn't always do it, with the result of beating the eggs up into a soft mess, and mixing shell-dry coffee, hard tack and cold meat into a fancy omelette. when i discovered the horrible condition of things, the eggs were dripping down my horse's flanks, and when the horse stood still the odor wafted itself around me. i got one good whiff and then cut the thing loose, boldly sacrificing my expected breakfast of eggs and also all the good coffee and other nice things my kit was packed with. i have always believed that there must have been more than one bad egg in the dozen. in writing up this ride in poetry, after buchanan's sheridan, this incident should not be made too prominent. i record it simply as one of the necessary ingredients of a true story. i had a double incentive after this to hurry me along; the awful stench clung to the flanks of my horse and i tried to ride him out of the range of it. when i reached the top of the hill, now so widely known as cemetery ridge, on the morning of july st, it was as quiet and restful as the old graveyard probably is this july st, . beyond the town, to the west, which was visible from this point, were to be seen in the air over the tops of the trees the too-familiar little curls or puffs of white, steamy-looking smoke, that i knew were from exploding shells. for the moment there seemed to be a lull in the proceedings--only an occasional gun and the more frequent sharp, hammer-like sound of infantry firing on a skirmish line. but i'm not going to attempt a description of the battle of gettysburg; that has already been done too thoroughly and well. i'll tell only what i saw that day, in as few words as i can put it. when i rode through the town the people were gathered in groups in the street; ladies were at the windows talking in a whining, half-crying way to other nervous neighbors, who were, perhaps, at an up-stairs window, praying at intervals, or asking in a beseeching way, "what is to become of us all?" during all this time the soldiers inside of the town, in a sullen, quiet, business way, peculiar to old coffee-coolers, were moving about, indifferently, amidst the excitement that must have struck the inhabitants as being very unconcerned for soldiers. i remembered one fellow in blue loitering where i had halted for a drink, while the lady of the house was kindly dishing out glasses of water. she appealed to him for something encouraging or hopeful. he looked up at her, and then, turning around in the direction of the occasional musketry, as if he had just discovered that there was something going on, assured her in an easy-going way: "oh, that's all right; that's only a little squabble. our army isn't out there." i forged ahead straight out of the chambersburg road, galloped my horse up the hill and on past the seminary, and might have gone a little too far on that line if i hadn't been summarily stopped by an officer, who was standing close behind the fence beside the road. "where in ---- are you going?" was the polite salutation. when i explained that i was a staff orderly from headquarters hunting general buford, he observed: "well, you go out that road any further and you will find some rebel general." another officer, more polite and obliging, kindly volunteered the information, "buford's cavalry were in those woods this morning," pointing to a grove to the left. it was further explained that the fence was down a little distance up the road. i made a break for the gap, and got safely out of the now-deserted highway, and ran in behind the big stone barn and dismounted, when i discovered that i was right at the front of our lines. before me, stretched along the ground at full length, was a brigade of infantry, extending to the grove on the left. this was the advance of our line of battle, under doubleday. i wanted very much to get into that grove, to communicate with headquarters, but i had run myself, precipitately, into a trap, and couldn't get out without the risk of being shot. it was safe enough, for the time being, while behind the old stone barn, but there was that awful gap of a quarter of a mile between it and the grove. i dismounted, went inside of the barn, and there witnessed such a scene as can best be described by a reference to a first visit to an insane asylum. it seemed to me that from every corner, crevice and stall of the dark old basement of the barn i saw glaring at me the wild eyes of maniacs. in a word, the barn was full of skulkers--of cowards, who no doubt looked upon me as the leader of a detail to drive them out into their ranks in the front. i was worse frightened by those fellows than by the line of battle of the rebels in the front, and, hurrying out of the place, got on my horse and hauled down my cap, felt for the security of my belt, and was making ready for a dash over the gap, when my attention was attracted by some officer's loud voice, who, in a whining, half-crying tone, was haranguing his men, who were lying down in his front. i shall never forget the expression on the faces of those poor fellows as they would look up at their officer and glance longingly to the rear, and alternately gaze with a frightened, serious look toward the rebel lines, their pale, blanched faces looking the whiter through the dirt and smoke of battle, that was on them like a war-paint. in this connection i have a conundrum for the chaplain: how is the indisputable fact to be accounted for, or reconciled, that the same men in line of battle, facing death, will, in one and the same moment, be praying and cursing, as i heard them in this line--"god have mercy on us," and after the first volley, or when a charge was ordered, the prayer, almost in the same breath, turned to the most terrible oaths--"god damn your souls." i went up to the colonel and reported the discovery of the men in the barn. to my surprise, he only said: "oh, that's nothing; let them alone." i have looked carefully into all the accounts of the different battles for some mention of the cowards and skulkers, but, somehow, this part of the battle is not brought to the attention of the reading public nowadays, though it is not denied that these form quite a large percentage in each army. it was imperative that i should obey orders and report to general buford. i had found him all right, but there remained between us the little space that i must cross. i screwed up my courage to the sticking point, and, with my head bent low, i made the run safely into the grove, where i found general buford sitting quietly on his horse, accompanied by one or two of his staff. he did not seem to have a happy or satisfied look, and i judged at once, from his uneasy manner, that something was going wrong. i soon found out. general reynolds was lying by the two little elms along side of the fence, dying or dead. this was what put so serious and sorrowful an expression on the faces of all the officers just then. a rebel sharpshooter from that stone barn had killed the best general the army of the potomac contained--he whom we all knew at headquarters should have been its commander-in-chief. every moment we staid in the grove was a holy terror to me; it seemed as if the whole rebel artillery had discovered that it was headquarters, and were concentrating their shells into it. they would go crashing through the tree-tops, shrieking and tearing through the branches of the trees as we used to throw clubs into apple trees to knock down the fruit. general buford, noticing my uneasiness as i'd glance up through the trees, as if expecting to see the apples fall, quietly observed to me: "they have not got the range yet." he said this in a tone indicating that he was only waiting till they _did_ get it, before he should leave. my horse became awfully nervous, to say nothing of myself, and i didn't feel that i wanted the rebel artillery to hunt their range with me for a target. i became suddenly solicitous about the expediency of looking after some signal and telegraph business in the town, a mile or so to the rear, and safely "beyond range." so, riding up to the general, saluting in the regular army style, bowing my head low as a shell went over, i meekly suggested going back to town to see if there were any telegraph operators to be found. "all right," said the general, significantly, "we will all be back there soon." turning my horse's head to the rear, i didn't hesitate so long about starting as i had for the barn, but boldly made a dash to the rear over a lot of old fields that lay between the grove and the seminary. i thought it about a mile distant at that time, and i have since visited the ground and was surprised to find it so short a distance; but i covered it so quickly then that some allowance may be made for the miscalculation. i don't believe any horse-race jockey ever got over the same amount of the earth any quicker than i did that last quarter on the home stretch--i had got "in range," and was in a hurry to get out. this was a piece of open ground, where it seemed all the shells that passed through the trees in the grove stopped and ploughed into the earth, and scattered the dirt or exploded in the air and scattered the pieces of iron. i felt for the minute and a half that i was out from under the imaginary protection of the trees, that the whole rebel army were after me. really i was so badly rattled that i did not know whether i was on a horse or afoot. once behind the big brick seminary building, i felt it safe enough to dismount, cool off myself and the horse, and repair damages. discovering that both the horse and myself were unharmed, and being anxious to see how the rest of them out that way were getting along, i availed myself of my privilege as a signal man on the staff, and climbed the stairs to the top of the building, getting out on the cupola. there were several generals up there. they were somewhat excited, and talking together in an earnest manner about something that was going on in another part of the field. they left the cupola as if they were in a hurry. so did i, without stopping to examine the outlook very closely. there was plenty to be seen--it was quite a moving panorama of blue and gray, and far more realistic from _that_ platform than the cyclorama i have viewed from similar elevations in the center of the battle scenes they depict. i noticed from the cupola that there was some excitement or stir to the right of the town. i had not thought of there being any rebels, except those i had seen immediately in our front. as i had seen enough of this part of the field, i concluded to go over to the right and see what i could do to save the day there. i went down the steps, three or four at a jump, and was on my horse before any of the generals, who had preceded me. i rode out toward the right as far as it was expedient for a horse to go. in there was a railroad embankment, or fill, along that edge of the town. behind this i dismounted and fastened my horse to a fence, discreetly advanced as dismounted cavalry to reconnoiter, and, if possible, learn what all the fuss over here was about. i soon found out--one good look was enough. there was another barn out that road, and from behind it, or from all corners, puffs of white smoke were to be seen at frequent intervals. beyond this there were other lines of this same white smoke; and, before i knew exactly what was going on, there came suddenly from another direction that _awful_ sharp din of volleys of musketry. dear me, how sharp and how sudden the noise of musketry--it rings to-day in my ear, after a lapse of twenty-five years, as distinctly as it were but yesterday. i frequently visit gettysburg--the place has a strange fascination for me. as i walk alone over the very ground i am trying to tell about here, i recall every incident, and wonder, and wonder, in the strange quiet of the old town, where all the , are to-day! "no marshalling troops, no bivouac song, no banner to gleam and wave; but, oh _these battles! they last so long--_ _from boyhood_ to the grave." after this outbreak, which we all knew preceded a charge, there came the usual confusion, accompanied by the yells and indescribable ugly sounds, the echo of which seems to chill one's blood, even now. in this confusion and rush, i nearly lost my horse; he had torn loose from his fastenings, in the jam and tear of artillery, breaking to the rear along the road; he was retreating in disorder among the boys of the eleventh corps. when i caught up with him and mounted again, there was a crowd of infantrymen jamming along the road. it is a fact that a "doboy," as we cavalrymen called the infantry, instinctively hates a cavalryman of his own army as much as he does that of the enemy, so that, in my isolated predicament, in trying to navigate my horse along a road filled with excited germans, with bayonets on their guns, i had, literally, a hard road to travel. i intended to go back to the seminary, which i had recently left, thinking it the best place to get a good view of the field. i was steering my horse in that direction, down the main street of the town, when i discovered that, seemingly, everybody was coming away from there. it looked as if the show was over and the crowd was rushing along the streets, as if anxious to catch the first car, or the last train. i did not realize that it was a retreat until i saw riding up the road, in a direction away from the seminary, a cavalcade, which i knew to be a general and staff. it was general doubleday. the handsome general, erect and dignified at the head of his staff, was riding alone with a bearing very much as i have witnessed other generals on the fancy parades at the head of the column of play soldiers. except for an angry flush on his face, and evidently in a bad humor about something that had gone wrong, he was as cool as i have seen him since on ordinary occasions. on looking through the dusty and crowded streets that dreadful afternoon toward the seminary, which i had so recently left some distance inside of our lines, i was astonished beyond measure to see that a battery was right in the middle of the road firing like all nation toward us. it has always remained one of the great surprises of my life to understand how that rebel battery could possibly have gotten through our army so suddenly and have been firing shells down the road into our retreating column from _our_ hill, when i thought, according to the tactics, it ought to have been two or three miles out of the road on their own hill. the frequent shots did not hasten general doubleday's pace a particle; he kept on giving his orders in a sullen, ill-natured tone, but walked his horse as slowly as if heading a funeral procession. my young heart was distressed to see that our men were beginning to pour into the main street from every direction--all were eagerly making for the main road through town to cemetery hill. it was very much as if a church, or theatre, had been dismissed in a panic; the people who were in the side aisles were rushing down on the crowds in the main entrance, so that everything became blocked by the confusion worse confounded. the ladies of the town, from almost every house and window, were imploring the men to give them some explanation of the movement, the very suddenness and excitement of which bordered on a panic. as a pennsylvania boy, i felt that it was disgraceful to abandon one of our own towns to rebel invaders, and with such thoughts burning within me, and fired by the excitement of the hour, remembering that in my ride into the town that morning i had passed slocum's (twelfth) corps only a little way out, i rode up, facing the stately doubleday, and, after saluting, said: "general, i passed general slocum only a little way out the road." the general, without halting his slow movement, gruffly said: "where is slocum?" "why, out the road a little piece." "when did you see him?" "this morning." just then a shell went over the top of a house, exploded on the roof, making a most infernal noise, which scared all the horses, and in the mix-up, as i was facing the general, my horse could not march backwards, i became tangled up with him, and impeded for a moment his progress. turning to me, with a savage expression, he said: "get out of my way, ---- you. we all know where slocum was this morning. where is slocum now? who in ---- are you, anyhow?" i didn't insist on continuing the conversation with general doubleday at the time; but i have had the pleasure of hearing from this grand old man, since the publication of this day's experience. when i saw so indisputably that everybody else was going to leave town, i concluded that i might as well go too, and i stood not on the order of my going, but went at once. on the occasion of president cleveland's visit to gettysburg, it was my pleasure, as well as my business as a newspaper man, to accompany that party. i heard then one of the old residents--one of the "reliable old liars"--tell a distinguished party that the rebel band played "dixie" on the square of the town at p. m. on that day. i want to say that is not true. there was lots of music at p. m., but there were no bands playing that day that i ever heard of. it was late in the afternoon when we had our parade through the streets of gettysburg to the music of booming cannon, screeching shell, and the sharp notes of musketry. this music was in the air all around us, accompanied by the groans and cries of the wounded and dying men, who were being piled into the court house and churches of the old burg. i managed to crowd my frenzied horse through the dense mass of soldiers, wagons, etc., who were surging up the main street toward cemetery hill. i got there just as soon as i could, too. on reaching the brow of the hill, i was gratified and surprised to see general howard sitting on his horse, quite alone, in the lot to the right of the cemetery gate, or across the road from it. all of this time, the men of the eleventh corps, which, in the retreat led the way, had been coming steadily up the hill from town and kept on going down over the hill on the other side, like so many sheep that follow a leader blindly over a fence. it never occurred to me that there would be any halt then, and i assert here, bluntly, my opinion, as being unprejudiced and based solely on the events as they actually occurred to me at that day, that general howard had not, at that hour, any other expectation than to retreat further back. he certainly had not made any effort whatever to stop the rushing to the rear of his men of the eleventh corps. they not only swarmed up the one road, but came straggling through the by-ways and fields, skipping over the stone fence, and, unmolested, kept going on farther back, as if it were a matter of course. i stopped on the side of the road, near general howard that i might look around from this elevation. to my consternation, i discovered, from the musketry and confusion, that the rebels were going it lively over toward our extreme right, in the direction of what is now known as culp's hill. i was satisfied that the rebels would get around to the road i had come down on, and capture the entire force then at gettysburg. for obvious reasons, i did not intend to be made prisoner, if my horse's legs could keep me out of the grip of the encircling rebs. while i was making my way back to the road i ran against general hancock, who had just come up in search of howard. hancock--brilliant, dashing, glorious hancock--rode across the way to howard, who had been standing silently biting his finger-nails, evidently as much rattled as it was possible for a good soldier to be. "howard," said hancock, in a voice and with an emphasis that attracted the attention of the crowd that had gathered there, "let's get them behind that stone fence; they can never get us out of that." howard looked surprised, and said something in a low voice, trembling with excitement, which i took to be an acquiescence with hancock's suggestion. there were some other words between them that were not heard, but we all knew that hancock, from his fiery, almost blustering manner, was urging howard to the importance of this step. hancock's very presence seemed to inspire the men, who had now begun to gather on the hill in great crowds, attracted by the excitable manner of the general. just then doubleday reached this point. hancock, upon seeing this fighting general, abruptly leaving howard, turned to doubleday and began to explain with excited gestures the importance of securing this position. doubleday, at a glance, seemed to take in the importance of this step. he and hancock talked together for a moment only, when hancock, without again referring to howard (who still sat silently in his saddle, looking over toward culp's hill, his back now turned to the crowd), said to doubleday: "now, you put your men behind that fence, and don't let another man go back of it." then, turning to the staff of assembled officers that were there, he said: "don't allow another ---- man to go over that hill; drive them all up behind that stone wall." some one asked if they--the staff--should use force indiscriminately. doubleday retorted, violently: "yes; shoot any ---- man that refuses to obey." some officer whom i can not locate turned to all of us, took command, and ordered every officer and soldier to draw his pistol and saber and prevent another man from going down the hill. for the first and only time during the four years of the war i used a saber on our own men of the eleventh corps. no more men went back, thanks to hancock. howard and hancock, standing together, were having some further animated conversation. i was close enough to hear only these words, spoken petulantly by howard in answer to something that had been said to him: "hancock, you cannot command here to-day." hancock rode over to doubleday; they exchanged a few words in private, heated talk; doubleday took charge, and it was he who executed hancock's commands and saved the position. howard received the credit and the thanks of congress for having selected this position, but i assert here, as if it were a dying statement and my hopes of eternity hung on it, that howard did not, until hancock forced him to act, take any steps to hold the place. hancock's arrival upon the field, in obedience to general meade's command, turned defeat into victory. his imposing presence, together with the admirable disposition of the first and eleventh corps and buford's cavalry, created in general lee's mind the impression that we had been reinforced. in proof of this fact i will refer to the official reports of general lee, lately published, in which he states that he had "restrained pursuit" because of the belief that we had been reinforced. much has been written upon the subject of this battle of gettysburg, but this point has been little touched upon by any writer who is a wholly disinterested witness. my testimony is not of a regimental kind, for i am simply trying to tell of my own personal observation and experience. as a headquarters-staff man, i went everywhere i considered it safe to go. i only knew such regiments as contained pennsylvania friends, and especially those of the pennsylvania reserves, while i knew certain other commands in the second and fifth corps. i generally knew where to find them when we were in camp, but would only meet them on the march accidentally. there was one little incident that occurred, however, in the presence of hancock, howard, doubleday, and the crowd which had gathered around them on cemetery hill, that some of the survivors who may read this article will remember, and may thereby establish the identity of the men or regiments which were "going up the hill and down again." after it had been decided by hancock and doubleday to try and stop the rout of the eleventh corps, howard "caught on," as we say nowadays, but only awakened to the importance of holding the place after hancock had bulldozed him into it. one big, tall fellow, with side-whiskers (i give his description because i do not know his name or regiment), who was carrying the regimental colors, rolled up, stalked over to where howard was spurring his horse around at a lively waltz, issuing his orders to everybody who would carry into effect hancock's suggestions. this color-sergeant, in a wild and dramatic way, stood beside howard's frisky horse and made his little speech, which was listened to with more apparent deference than had been accorded to hancock. i am not conscious of having any personal feeling or prejudice against general howard--in fact, i am politically the other way--but think, as a chronicler of events, that i can be perfectly fair now in my estimation of men and events which occurred twenty-five years ago. this color-sergeant and howard had a little scene up on the hill to which almost everybody else was oblivious, having as much as they could attend to at the time themselves. but i heard the sergeant say, in quite a loud voice: "i'll take the flag down there," pointing to the stone wall just below, "if these men will stand by me." howard replied in a low voice, tremulous with excitement, at which the color-bearer and a few men started down toward the stone wall, which was the last i ever saw or heard of them, although i have little doubt, if this man lived through the battle, he was favorably mentioned in howard's report, and got his commission, as it was a brave act on the part of the color-bearer; but i can't help but think it would have looked better (to my eyes at least) if he had stopped with his colors at the wall on his way up, and not have made his little speech for apparent effect. perhaps some person will ask why generals hancock and doubleday did not lay claim to the credit of this manoeuver at the time. probably they did, but of this i know nothing. howard was hancock's senior, and, as such, was entitled to the command during meade's absence. but through some hocuspocus howard received the vote of thanks by congress for doing that which he did not do, and so the matter stands to-day. hancock was a noble-looking soldier. there was something in his appearance during a fight, while on his large horse, that was wonderfully impressive. sheridan's ride up the valley, in which his presence is credited with turning a disastrous defeat into a victory, was no more important in its results, in my estimation, than hancock's dashing and well-timed arrival on cemetery hill on the afternoon of the first day of gettysburg. there can be little doubt but that his prompt action secured the position, and his very presence, while talking with howard, served to check the fugitives who were passing over the hill in droves. it may also be asked why i bring this subject up at this late date, and after hancock's death? for years i have avoided all talk on the subject of army experience. i would have sooner asked hancock to take a drink in a public-bar-room than to have broached this matter to him. he was not the sort of a man who invited everybody's opinion. he always impressed me, and i was near him often, with the feeling that he was the ideal regular soldier, and could only be approached through official channels. it was probably to this disposition, to leave everything to official reports, that can be attributed the fact that he did not always obtain through the newspapers the credit to which he was clearly entitled. i therefore contend that hancock is the hero of gettysburg, not only of the third, but of the first day; and had he been in supreme command, and remained unharmed, general lee would not have gotten away so easily; the war might have ended a year sooner than it did, and more than likely gettysburg would have been in history what appomattox now is, while grant would have equally divided honors with hancock. i sometimes think that, like a great many other good generals in the east, hancock became soured by the promotion of grant's western men to the best position in the army of the potomac. grand old army of the potomac! noble, patient, long-suffering army of the potomac. its greatest battles were fought while meade and hancock were subordinates--before grant came out of the west to lead it to the wilderness and cold harbor. everybody on cemetery hill did their utmost to check the shattered column, which had been doubled back from the right and the officers and men thrown into confusion; and the few men of the staff had a hard time to rally these demoralized soldiers, for, as is well known to everybody who has had any connection with the army, a body of men once broken are about as hard to control as is a resistless mountain torrent. i became so much engaged in this work, personally, that for a while i neglected to look around to see what was happening elsewhere. the men had come up from the town, and all stopped on the hill behind the wall, their guns cocked and lying across the top. i was seated on my horse by the side of the big arched fancy gate of the old cemetery, and, before i suspected that the rebels were near, a minie-ball struck the brick-work of the gate, which i found, upon examination, was but a few feet above my head. i had turned briskly around in search of some of my recent companions, to tell them that evidently the rebel sharpshooters had secured places on the roofs, when i was almost paralyzed to discover that they had disappeared--scarcely anybody to be seen, save a lot of infantry, who were hugging the ground all around. not being under the orders of any particular officer, i was, of course, like "nobody's child," and had to look out for myself. i hurriedly got behind the hill, when, to my consternation, i heard the rapid, sharp, hammer-like firing over on culp's hill, which seemed to me to be directly in our rear. it is a geometrical fact that the rebels were almost in the rear of our position on cemetery hill. a glance at a map will explain this. cemetery hill projects like the point or promontory of a peninsula out into the sea of the rebel army, which was apparently on three sides of it. the first thing i did was to look around for hancock, thinking, if he was somewhere about, i would attach myself to him, as a means to get me out safely. but he was nowhere in sight; neither was doubleday, howard or any of the big guns i had just left on the hill; and, glancing down the baltimore road to the rear, i saw such signs of general commotion that it gave me the impression that we were going to be surrounded. i thought then that hancock had made an awful big mistake in allowing the men up there to be caught in the rear while lying behind the stone wall looking in the opposite direction. i was not the only one who entertained this opinion at that juncture, by a large majority. but future events proved that hancock was right and we were all wrong. i went back over the same old road, along which i had dashed so gallantly in the morning, and did not stop until safely established near general pleasonton, and so far to the rear that the sound of guns did not disturb my rest that night. one day of gettysburg should be enough. it was for me. the battle has been fought over so often in the newspapers that there is scarcely anything new to be said. of course, my experience was peculiar in this--that i went as i pleased. regimental history relates only to the observations from one fixed point. the evening of the first day it looked badly enough to me, and if i had been commander-in-chief, i think i should have changed the base to a point a little farther away from the rebels. i was defeated. i was on hand bright and early the morning of the second day. i was not in so much of a hurry to save the day as i had been the first day. i rode down the same road i did the morning before, but i went along more cautiously. there was no booming of guns to be heard. though nearly two hundred thousand men had been gathered there in the night, the surroundings the second morning were decidedly peaceful--unusually quiet--ominously as compared with the first morning and the evening of the first day. i had slept in the same haymow from which i had been awakened the previous morning. i came down the road straight toward cemetery hill to find headquarters--at least, that is what i started out to reach. i was stopped before i got up the hill, by an order from somebody to "get out of the road." i got off as directed, and went into a little grove to the left, and almost in the rear of the cemetery, where i had seen a group of officers on horseback. i do not remember who they were, but, seeing that they did not know any more than i about the "prospect," which was just then the important question, i tied my horse to a tree, that i might reconnoiter on foot, and find out something for myself. i proceeded to climb up the crest of the hill on my hands and knees, with all the humility, respect and caution that i felt was due to the rebels. i wanted to see them all once more very much, indeed, but i did not care to have any of their sharpshooters discover me first. there were batteries upon batteries, the horses of which were down on the hill to the rear, in care of their riders. the artillerymen were, of course, around their guns, but most of them were hunting places not too much exposed. i did not see the line at first; you know the artillery is always behind, or to the rear of a line of battle, supported by infantry. bound to see the shape of our advance of that line of battle, i went as far out as the very crest of the hill nearest the cemetery gate. when i got that far i was paralyzed by another yell, from some unseen quarter, to "get down, there!" i got down, and in that abject position heard the voice explain, in not very gentle tones, "the sharpshooters are on the tops of those houses." the houses referred to were so close that i could almost count the bricks in the chimney-tops. there was another curious fellow--an officer--some distance ahead of me, standing behind a tree, looking for all the world as if he was having lots of fun playing hide-and-seek with someone. i concluded to play, too, and crawled up to the base of another tree close beside him. when i got behind the tree, i felt perfectly safe from an attack of the whole rebel army. i was feeling so secure in this position that i became bold enough to stand to one side, that i might get a good view of our fellows. i saw them lying down or silently moving about behind that old stone wall. [illustration: a close call at gettysburg.] while i was yet intently gazing over the valley in hopes of seeing the rebels, there was a little "ping" noise near me, a sharp sting on my face, as if some one had thrown a handful of gravel at me. it was only some of the bark of the tree, which had been dusted into my face by a minie-ball. i got behind the tree. i stayed there, too, standing up against it as stiff as a post, and hugging it as close as its own bark. i was afraid to turn my head either to the left or to the right. i had seen enough, and slid down to the ground and crawled back on all-fours, after the manner of the harlequin on the stage. i found the headquarters, which was located not very far from that spot, but out of reach of any hiding sharpshooters on the house-tops at the upper end of the town. during all that morning i was about headquarters, trying to find out what in thunder was up; everything was oppressively quiet. in the early afternoon i sent a note addressed to general meade into the dingy little old shanty where he had his headquarters. they were having a prolonged caucus. i proposed to send a detail of men to try to open up telegraph communication with baltimore and washington. i had discovered that the wires were down at some point on the railroad, and wanted to rebuild the line. in reply to this suggestion, which may be on file some place, as it was a written communication, general meade sent me out to see general gregg. this officer, who is a native of pennsylvania, and at present is residing at reading, greeted me most courteously, saying: "general meade directs me to say to you, sir, that he appreciates the importance of securing the telegraph service, and desires you to be prepared to act upon it." i was at the headquarters later on, when all the generals who had been attending the council of war came filing out, with their swords rattling, their faces wearing a determined, if not anxious, expression. each of the officers, without uttering a word, but acting as if he had an important business engagement on hand and was behind time at the appointment, quickly mounted their horses, all darting off in different directions. i took the liberty of propounding a question to general gregg. i should consider it impertinent, at my present age, for any one to ask me such a question. but these were war times, which is the apology i now tender to general gregg publicly. he will get a copy of this book with the author's compliments. i asked the general, bluntly, if there "was anything up." he answered by significantly pointing over his shoulder to general meade, who was at the moment in big boots, strutting off to his horse, which an orderly held near the assembled staff. "it looks as if something was up, don't it?" i thought it did;--and as everybody else was mounting their horses i followed the example; that is, i followed general meade, who was my example, over toward what was then the front of the round tops or sickles' salient. i can not go into sickles' fight at gettysburg. i know nothing more about it than has been published, except the impression that i gathered at the headquarters, and throughout the army at the time, in the days that immediately followed, which in effect was, that general sickles had played a big card in hopes of accomplishing something on his own account that would give him the command of the army of the potomac. as all know, it was a continual fight between our generals as to who should be the chief. sickles lost his opportunity and his leg at the same time. it was the common talk then, and few cared to dispute it some years ago, when meade and hancock were yet alive, that, if sickles had not lost his leg, he would have lost his commission. i was at gettysburg with general sickles in july, and , and interviewed him for the press on this subject. he showed considerable feeling over the hostile attitude of other distinguished officers toward his absurd claim of having won the battle of gettysburg, by being defeated the second day. at the time, it looked to me like another first day, and, as i was anxious to be on the safe side, i retired to the valley between the round tops. while riding out toward the rear, from between the round tops, i met a double line of battle slowly advancing. it was so long a line that i could not see either end of it through the undergrowth. in endeavoring to find a break, or hole, to get through, i asked some of the officers what troops these were, and my recollection is they were the pennsylvania reserves. i have often wondered since why some mention is not made of this reserve being on hand there to receive longstreet if he had come through sickles. the appalling fear before me, as i faced those fellows advancing, with their guns loaded and bayonets fixed, pointing at my horse's breast, was that they wouldn't let me through, but might drive me ahead of them. i was not ambitious to lead them down through that valley, where so much noise was being made by rebel yells and musketry. i will never forget that double row of dirty faces. they had been on a forced march all day, perhaps, to reach the field. the dust of the roads had adhered to their perspiring faces, presenting a war-paint effect that was ludicrous even at so serious a time. "how does a man feel in battle?" is a question often asked, or "were you frightened the first time?" my answer is: "yes, and every other time." i never heard a shell screech, or a minie-ball whistle or whiz, that i wished, with all my soul, that i had not come. i was scared when i went in the first and the last battle. at the end of every fight i felt, somehow, as if the war was a failure, and we might as well go home, we so seldom had the satisfaction of seeing the rebels run. a majority of people have formed an idea that a battle is a continuous uproar, from daylight until dark, or during all of the day on which it occurs. as a matter of fact, the real fight is soon over, one way or another; that is, the actual contest of the larger bodies ends about as suddenly as a collision on a railroad. it is a long time beginning; may be the picket-firing of the night previous is the first indication; then will come the more frequent clattering from the skirmish-line, with an occasional shot from a battery; perhaps it ends with this. i have nearly always noticed that the officers and men thought it had ended, and were only suddenly awakened to the fact that it had not, by a tremendous boom from some battery, that would nearly always be discovered to be at some point they did not expect a hostile shot to come from. it may not be an agreeable thing to print, but it has been my experience in battle, that it was always the unexpected that happened to our officers. the first time i was under fire, i happened to be near a battery, and became so much excited by the booming of the guns, and the action of the men and officers, that i did not realize my danger. a battery pounding shot into an enemy is the most inspiriting music a soldier can hear. of course, you can not tell whether the shot hit any one or not, as they go so far, but you instinctively feel, from the big noise and fussy kick the thing makes every time it is fired, that something must get hurt at the other end. as a rule, it is not the artillery that does the damage; the shells most frequently go entirely over the heads of a line of battle and drop far to the rear, where they stampede the mules about the wagon-trains and scare the skulkers. _the wounds are not always received at the front._ it is the nasty _little_ bullets that do the greater damage to the men in line. on this occasion i felt, from the way this battery had been pounding into the woods, a mile or so away, that they had killed everybody over there, so i boldly advanced on my horse to the front or skirmish-line. on my way out, i saw coming toward me two fellows carrying, or rather supporting, a third between them; getting closer, i discovered that the man they were carrying had his leg off; indeed, it seemed as if his whole lower body had been torn off at the hip, leaving his bleeding flesh hanging in shreds to his light-blue pantaloons. i naturally stopped when they got nearer, when i discovered, to my horror, that the poor man's bowels were actually trailing on the ground. he was yet alive; his eyes were fixed upon me in a sorrowful, longing way that i shall never, never get out of my mind. while paralyzed by this sight, i was so sick that i almost fell off my horse, by seeing one of the men accidentally tread on his bowels, which served to draw more of his entrails from his torn and bleeding body. the poor fellow was then past all pain. i hurried forward to get away from the horrible sight, only to come on a boy in blue, who was lying flat on his face, as if he had been literally biting the dust, all choked up--dead. you will notice in all the pictures of battles that the dying are usually represented as throwing up their hands and falling backward gracefully. as a matter of fact, the men usually fall forward, unless they are struck by a missile so large that its weight will carry them backward by the momentum. i have observed that a wounded man's head drops forward; this, i presume, has a tendency to cause the body to fall forward with the weight of the head; and the fact that the dead, who die on the field, are nearly always found with their faces down, burrowed, has created the expression, "biting the dust." as it generally rains after a battle, i have noticed the wounded and dying nearly always crawl to a pool of water, and their dead faces are often found as if they had died in an effort to wet their parched tongues. every person i have talked with for five minutes about gettysburg, asks the question: "were you there when pickett charged?" as if that famous incident comprised the whole of the battle, whereas it was only the fire-works at the end of the three days' meeting. when pickett's charge was made i was behind the stone wall, about three miles away, and, consequently, did not see it. at the "supreme moment," i was quietly picking blackberries in an old field where the reserve artillery had been parked. when the tremendous firing began and the reserve artillery were ordered down, i stopped my blackberrying, out of season, and went down to the front to see what the fuss was all about. pickett's charge has been done--and over-done--so very thoroughly by both sides, that i shall not even attempt to add a word to the mass of stuff that has already been printed about it. there is, however, a little story about a charge of pennsylvanians in the virginia "burg," led by the glorious but unobtrusive meade, that the _old_ army of the potomac should not themselves forget, nor allow their old-time enemies to obliterate, or snow under. i refer to the charge of meade on the left at fredericksburg, december th, , where, with fewer numbers, he accomplished greater results than pickett against greater odds: with the rappahannock river in the rear, meade led his division over a mile of plain under a heavy artillery fire, and _broke the celebrated_ stonewall jackson line, and penetrated yards beyond their line. if he had been sustained, the slaughter at marye's heights would have been avoided. it was also at marye's heights, where greater heroism was shown, where not one grand attempt was made, but where charge after charge was made against an absolutely impregnable position, yet one never hears of these charges. the gallant allabach, the veteran of two wars, led the last final onslaught on marye's heights, at the head of a small brigade of pennsylvania troops of humphrey's division that had never before been under fire, and this handful comparatively, went into the very jaws of death, and, though they did not reach the stone wall, they got nearest to it and kept their ground, within a few rods of it till dark, when they were ordered to fall back. _no prisoners were taken_ at fredericksburg as there were at gettysburg. the snake, secession, had its back-bone broken at gettysburg to be sure, but boys of the dear old army of the potomac--patient, noble, long-suffering old army of the potomac--remember the early, the dark days, when meade, hancock, reynold, warren, humphreys, etc., were our immediate commanders; do not forget the _old_ army of the potomac and its numerous general officers when the proper praises are so freely being given to its later chiefs. though the final charge of pickett, preceded and attended as it was by peculiarly dramatic surroundings, has furnished a subject for more speeches, historical essays, paintings, poems, than any other event which ever occurred in america, yet, in point of fact, history is wrong in ascribing the credit to pickett. the charge was not led by pickett, neither were the troops who did the most gallant fighting virginians. it is reserved for these spy papers to record, on the testimony of reliable, confederate officers, that pickett did not get within a mile of our lines. the _best_ fighting was done by the north carolinians and tennesseeans, led by pettigrew; therefore, it should be _pettigrew's_ charge. in this, as in many other matters, the historians of the war are at fault. may we hope that the humble efforts of the "boys" in these pages, will, at least, call attention to some of those inaccuracies, with a view of getting at the truth. as i have intimated, i have endeavored to collect some recent testimony from the southern side, having spent some time on the old war-trail, which i hope to be able to put in shape soon. the time must come when the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, will be known, and then, perhaps, future generations may be taught to see that to the pennsylvania reserves is due some of the honor, valor, gallantry and patriotism that is now being so freely offered to the pickett survivors. no one will question their bravery at gettysburg on july rd, ; but since then, and on july th, , the survivors have left themselves open to attack, in assuming their positions in reference to monuments. there remains among the southern people an ignorant, deep-seated belief, which is being taught the "new south," that, if longstreet had properly supported pickett, they would have been successful, and the country would have become a confederacy. there is a great deal of "if" in all the survivors' talk in the new south, so that we may indulge in the use of the little word, and propose a few conundrums--possibilities. what would have been the result, _if_ meade had been supported by franklin, when he broke stonewall jackson's line at fredericksburg? and _if_ sedgwick had been properly supported by hooker, at chancellorsville, when he drove early from behind the "impregnable" works on marye's heights? once more: _if_ pickett had succeeded and had broken into our line, and had been supported by longstreet, then _if_ the sixth corps, which had scarcely been engaged in the great fight, had turned in on them on the flank, _if_ any of them had gotten back at all it would have been a miracle. _if_, on the other hand, general meade had taken hancock's advice and turned the reserves and the sixth corps loose after pickett the war might have ended. _if_ they were to try it again they would be whipped worse. _if_ they don't believe it, fire on fort sumter. _if_ we had never been born we would not have to die. there was one little episode i have never seen recorded. after the charge of pickett--on the third day--had failed, everything had quieted down. meade, accompanied by his staff, went over the wall and rode along our entire front, from cemetery hill to the round tops, receiving the cheers of the whole army, or all that was left. that was the only time i ever heard music on a battlefield; then it was from a band in the woods at little round top, that played "hail to the chief." i never hear that old tune, nowadays, on these fancy parades, but it brings up the recollection of that great day and causes the cold chills to creep up and down my spine. i rode with general meade this day; to prove which, i will ask some of the survivors who witnessed that event to recall a smooth-faced boy on a lame horse that brought up the rear of the dashing cavalcade. my nag got hurt the first day, and i did not have a chance to steal another, and, as i was bound to be on hand, i had to ride my lame horse. the general and staff always go at a break-neck gallop, the staff tearing along in the rear, like a tail to a comet, so that, in this case, i "got left" about a gunshot to the rear; and, because i so energetically spurred the lame horse, to catch up, our boys, behind the stone wall, gave me the laugh and some cheers of derision. they were all feeling pretty good just then, and were excusable. one of the staff-officers told me that we had captured general longstreet, and when i got over among the reserves i told this bit of news, where it created a sensation. i have never seen an account of that ride along the lines in print. it is correct, though it may have been the fourth day instead of the third. you will find in the rebel reports of the battle, that general lee states that, on hearing these shouts and cheers from our army, he thought it meant an advance on his line, and he made preparations to meet it. i think it was the cheers for general meade that he heard, even so distant as his headquarters. but we will leave gettysburg. i want to say something about kilpatrick and the corn exchange regiment of emergency men, that came out of philadelphia at that time to repel the invasion. it is not for me to criticise general meade for not closely pursuing lee's shattered army. we all know that, when a rattle-snake is chased into his hole, he don't leave his tail exposed, but at once presents his head to the entrance. i remember that some days after gettysburg, while we were at emmittsburg, or between there and frederick, maryland, general kilpatrick and some of his associates had an animated conversation about it, which everybody in the neighborhood heard, as kilpatrick was a free talker when he became very much interested in a subject. on this occasion he freely expressed his disgust with the slow proceedings, but no one who knew kilpatrick well paid much attention to his bluster. he was nick-named "kill cavalry," because of his recklessness and apparent disregard of his own and the lives of his men. i will relate a single incident illustrating this general's character, that occurred in my hearing at hagerstown. at the time of the gettysburg campaign there had been quite a lot of emergency troops called out by the governor of pennsylvania--"ninety-minute men" we called them. on our march from gettysburg we met with these home-guards at different points. i remember that just outside of the town of frederick, maryland, there was a regiment of these men doing guard duty. as we marched by, and these citizen-soldiers, who were fresh in their picturesque, zoo-zoo uniforms, or, as they are sometimes called, "night-drawers cadets," the dirty-looking, old, blue-bloused veterans chaffed them most unmercifully. it was wet weather, and the roads were muddy, as is always the case after a battle. wherever these ninety-minute men were stationed on guard duty, they were to be found perched as sentries on top of a pile of cracker-boxes or fence rails, to keep their feet out of the mud, the boxes giving them the appearance of a statue on a pedestal. "pretty boys," "nice little sogers," "don't get your feet wet, sonny; you might take cold," "let me kiss him for his sister," are mild specimens of the expressions hurled at them from the marching columns of old vets. my recollection is that these were philadelphia troops. when we reached hagerstown, we ran into a lot more of them, that had come down the cumberland valley from harrisburg and chambersburg to head lee off. one of these organizations was, i think, called the corn exchange regiment, recruited, or at least fathered, and sent into the field by the wealthy gentlemen of the philadelphia exchange. they were composed of what may be termed the better class of men; at least, that was their own estimate of themselves. at their philadelphia home they probably ranked as rather an exclusive set of boys. their officers were decidedly "fresh," to use a slang term; at least, we around headquarters, who had become accustomed to pay some attention to military etiquette, were disgusted to see these line officers crowd around our generals, to stare at and talk as familiarly as if they were all corps commanders. custer and kilpatrick, with whom i was then serving, were at first immensely amused at the efforts of the militia officers to make themselves agreeable. the officers and men, too, felt, no doubt, that it was their only opportunity to see a live general, like kilpatrick and custer, and were bound to gratify their curiosity while they had a chance. in addition to their curiosity, these chaps were continually imploring general kilpatrick to let them have "just one chance at the rebels." they begged that they might be permitted to have an opportunity to distinguish themselves before they returned to philadelphia. one evening kilpatrick told custer, in my hearing, to put some of these men out on the picket-line, which was really a most dangerous place, for they were in close proximity to the rear-guard of lee's army. the rear of an army cornered, as was lee's at that time, is an ugly place to put a recruit, and general kilpatrick knew very well that, in yielding to their foolish requests, he was subjecting them to great danger. but general kilpatrick concluded he would have a little fun out of the recruits, so he placed some of them on the advance line, and watched to see what they would do if attacked. we all dismounted, and were watching the lines of rebels. the officer of the guard protested against having these new men on his line, saying they would be likely to raise a hornets' nest about our ears, but kilpatrick told him to let them try their hands a little while. these men went up the hill a little distance, when their brilliant uniforms attracted the attention of the johnnies, and, as they acted as though they were going to drive lee's army across the potomac, they let these recruits have a few shots by way of warning, which was answered by the philadelphians, who became excited, with a broadside. the rebel fire had injured about a dozen of the recruits, one big fellow keeling over and yelling like a boy stumping a sore toe. instead of continuing up the hill, or even falling back, they all crowded together where the wounded lay, and began to console with them. they were finally brought away, with the loss of a few more men, and they did not bother general kilpatrick again to be placed in the front rank of the army. but there was one thing about kilpatrick: he never ordered a man to go where he was not willing to lead. i stood beside him the following day, near williamsport, when a rifle-ball whizzed close by his ear. jerking up his hand nervously, as if stung by a bee, or to brush off a mosquito, he turned to me and said: "holy moses! that ball came near hitting me." but he didn't move out of range of that sharpshooter--but i did. chapter xxxiii. closing chapter. we were all expecting another great battle at hagerstown. i hung close to the headquarters in the stirring days, after gettysburg, during which i witnessed some scenes that would make quite interesting reading. at this time there was frequent communication between the washington war department and headquarters, the greater part of which, coming by wire, i had an opportunity of scanning. in reading the recent _century_ war-papers, and also some of the official reports now being published, the thought oftenest occurring to my mind is, why don't they publish _everything_, even the little straws, which significantly tell which way the wind was blowing at that time. we were in a manner besieged by the visitors who thronged about headquarters, after gettysburg, in a _civil_, inquisitive way that was very annoying to the officers. general meade has never received the full meed of praise to which he was entitled for his management of the army of the potomac during and in the days immediately following gettysburg. he was a peculiar man--in many ways, one not constituted to "command" attention. he was evidently conservative, and, perhaps, too cautious, but when one recalls that he had _won_ a great victory, and in forcing a second battle, unprepared, he not only staked his hard-earned laurels, but he risked the army and the capitol. i happen to know that general meade felt keenly president lincoln's severe criticism, though it was uttered in his usual, joking way. the general was an exceedingly sensitive man, and when he got to hear that the president compared him and his pursuit of lee over the potomac to an old woman shooing her geese over the river, he actually wanted to resign. general meade was every inch a soldier, as well as a gentleman, by birth and training. in camp he was the most unpretentious looking of the general officers. his spectacled face, rather quiet, scholarly bearing, reminds me of professors or doctors whom we frequently see; they resemble him in appearance. he always wore a slouch hat, and around his neck was invariably worn the old-fashioned leather _stock_, used in the regular army on recruits to keep their heads checked up. he usually slept in an ambulance attached to headquarters. we learned that lee had retreated the night before the impending battle, and early in the morning the cavalry were astir, in pursuit. i rode from hagerstown to williamsport, md., with general kilpatrick, following precisely the same road i had footed it when scouting, just before bull run. we passed through the deserted camps, in which the fires were still burning. the rebels had so hurriedly left them that in many places their camp equipages were left behind. kilpatrick was _mad_. he was very mad--on seeing the enemy had all gotten away, and, putting spurs to his own horse, dashed ahead of his advance guard, and rode so recklessly that those of us not so well mounted had difficulty in keeping up. he instinctively saw that there was no force in his immediate front, and, without paying any attention to the hundreds of rebel stragglers who were on the road, he gave order to his command to hurry on to the river after him. on reaching williamsport, we made a little haul of stragglers, but kilpatrick sat on his horse sideways, looking over the river into virginia with an expression of disgust on his face that i shall never forget. some of the colored residents of the town told kilpatrick of the enemy's manner of retreat. not a rebel was in sight, but they also notified him of a rebel battery that was slyly masked in the woods over the river, intended as a deadly ambuscade for any troop that should precipitately follow too close. on hearing this, kilpatrick quietly put a house between himself and the aforesaid masked battery. when our artillery came up with the cavalry, i was sent to conduct a section of it to a certain place behind the houses, but which admitted of the guns pointing between two adjoining houses. the colored people who lived in them gave the gunners the exact location of the rebels, and in less time than it takes for me to describe it, our section let them have a dose of the medicine they intended for us. the rebels were so surprised they did not have time to return the salute, but scampered away as fast as they could. at this, the entire colored population of the town, which had assembled, broke out in the wildest yells of delight i had ever heard. custer, accompanied by a few officers of his staff dashed up to kilpatrick, who, by the way, was the senior, or the general in command, and in his eager, boyish way, said: "general, hadn't i better go down below here and see if we can't find some of 'those people'?" general lee never called the union army federals or yankees--it was always "those people." kilpatrick laughed as he said something to custer that was not intended for his superior, general meade's ears. custer, in his nervous manner, again suggested going after some of "those people" down below. as if to gratify custer's eagerness, not with any expectation of finding an enemy, kilpatrick indifferently gave his consent, and custer, turning to the staff-officers, who were with him, gave a few orders and dashed off. i followed custer at a gallop. we rode three or four miles perhaps, when we reached some of our own cavalry and infantry. this was in the neighborhood of falling waters, and here, on the potomac river, almost the same place i had, as a scout, crossed into dixie a year previously. we will, for the present, say good-by to the grand old army of the potomac. there was a little battle at falling waters, in which custer's division participated. i cannot part from custer, however, without a heartfelt word of praise and devotion for the gallant "boy general." his michigan troops were among the very best in our army. i hope some of the western readers of this will see that i bear my humble testimony to the exalted opinion custer had of them. it was the custom of the general to frequently discuss the relative merits of their troops, and custer certainly did love his old division. on this occasion, one of custer's aides was a michigan officer, and in my hearing, while still on horseback, under fire, i heard custer assure the officer that he had given michigan full credit for certain work in his official report. while straggling off from the headquarters during a skirmish with some rebels upon a hill-top, i was surprised to see two good-looking young men in gray uniform come out of the woods and ride up to me. while in the midst of our army, it had never occurred to me that i was in any danger of capture, but, as i was still some distance from any of our troops, these two rebel chaps had me sure. both were armed and well mounted, while i was, at the time, dismounted. to my great relief, however, they surrendered to me, stating that they were tired of the war, and did not want to go back to virginia, so they had concealed themselves in the woods until an opportunity offered of surrendering. i welcomed them cordially to the north. one fellow at once handed me his pistol, belt and saber, which are to-day in my possession as trophies of war. the pistol contains yet the five loads that were put in it by the rebel soldier. as my horse had been struck in the leg by a spent ball while on south mountain, and was lamed from the bruise, i also traded horses with the rebel. and now we will again say a reluctant good-by to the army of the potomac. so it came to pass that i returned to the very same grounds on which we had first visited the army of patterson, previous to bull run. we are again on the potomac, nearly at the same point we had started from two years previously. obtaining a furlough from the ever-accommodating general alexander, chief of staff at cavalry corps headquarters, i turned my horse's head north and, instead of following the army back into virginia, i rode my rebel horse, as the "solitary horseman," dressed in my war clothes and wearing my captured saber and pistol, through chambersburg to the little hamlet where i was born, where i enjoyed a few days' rest with a sister, who was attending school at chambersburg, and who had witnessed the rebel army's occupation of the place. her story would make an interesting chapter in this connection, but we are off duty now enjoying the furlough and must hurry home. in the few days that immediately followed, i rode, solitary and alone, along the old pike, over the blue ridge mountains to bedford, pennsylvania, and from there debouched across the mountain by an almost unfrequented path to my father's home at wilmore near cresson, where i surprised the homefolks by dashing up to the door about supper time, one summer evening, wearing the uniform that i had taken away from there less than a year previously. it had, however, received its baptism of fire at gettysburg and all along the line. the old rebel horse remained on my father's farm for many years. the story from this out must be told at another time. the wonderfully thrilling and romantic story of geno and the wells family--which represents the "other side"--will make a volume of romance in real life that is indeed stranger than fiction, and exceeds my own adventures in our lines. "the story of our love is incomplete;" the leaves of many years are missing; lonely apart we pined, each seeking truth together, we will find love's land enchanted. the past is flown, the future still have we; so let our twin souls blend beyond the ages, till young and fair, beside the jasper sea, we may discover all love's torn out pages. one word of retrospect. as will be remembered, i was ambitious to secure a commission from the war department. i had worked zealously and faithfully for it. my trials and troubles with the war office have been told here. it had resulted in my being disappointed for many days. yet, at the time of which i am writing, while i was serving as an enlisted man, drawing my rations and pay as such, i was in fact an officer and did not know it, and only learned it some months afterward. this anomaly was brought about after gettysburg by mr. lincoln, who, on learning of my former services, ordered my commission ante-dated one year. so that, when i got my parchment at last, i found that i ranked some of the older officers in seniority. as i have furnished other references to establish the correctness of my statements, i take especial pride in putting before the readers the following correspondence. i lost my original parchment while traveling in california in . general stoneman, then governor, to whom i wrote about my loss, kindly interested himself in assisting me in my search for it, but, not finding it, i applied to the war department for a certified copy. the following is the reply, which explains itself: [ a. v. p., .] war department, } adjutant-general's office, } washington, april , . } mr. ---- ----, _sir:_ complying with your request of the th instant, i inclose herewith copies of your commission as second lieutenant, signal corps, and of letter of june , , from this office, notifying you of the acceptance of your resignation as such, to date june , . very respectfully, your obedient servant, c. mckeever, assistant adjutant-general, in charge. (two inclosures.) as will be seen in the copy, i did not resign until after the war was over. the original was on parchment, with mr. lincoln's and mr. stanton's autograph signatures. the president of the united states of america. _to all who shall see these presents, greeting:_ know ye, that, reposing special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity and abilities of j. o. kerbey, i have nominated, and, by and with the advice and consent of the senate, do appoint him second lieutenant in the signal corps, in the service of the united states, to rank as such from the third day of march, eighteen hundred and sixty-three. he is, therefore, carefully and diligently to discharge the duty of second lieutenant by doing and performing all manner of things pertaining and thereunto belonging. and i do strictly charge and require all officers and soldiers under his command to be obedient to his orders as second lieutenant. and he is to observe and follow such orders and directions, from time to time, as he shall receive from me, or the future president of the united states of america, or the general, or other superior officers set over him, according to the rules and discipline of war. this commission is to continue in force during the pleasure of the president of the united states for the time being. given under my hand, at the city of washington, this fifteenth day of july, in the year of our lord one thousand [seal.] eight hundred and sixty-four, and in the eighty-ninth year of the independence of the united states. by the president. abraham lincoln. edwin m. stanton, secretary of war. i especially call attention to the _dates_ of these papers. i would like to put in parallel columns mr. stanton's order for arrest or confinement in old capitol, and his parole, wherein the words, "dangerous man, disloyal, rebel spy," etc., were used. the above copy of the original commission is furnished to the person named therein, the original commission having been destroyed or irrecoverably lost. this commission is not now effective, having expired previous to this date. c. mckeever, assistant adjutant-general. * * * * * war department, adjutant-general's office, april , . copy of my brevet commission. office of chief signal officer, } washington, d. c., january, .} _sir:_ i am directed to inform you that the chief signal officer desires to send to the general of the army your recommendation for brevet. you are requested, therefore, to forward to this office copies of any papers bearing upon your services which may be in your possession. it is the object of the chief signal officer to secure whatever material may influence to favorable action in the case. very respectfully, your obedient servant, richard p. strong, acting chief signal officer. this accounts for my "captain-major's" title. promotions in this branch were rare--indeed, there were none; but i enjoyed, as a general staff-officer, all the privileges and none of the responsibilities of the rank of a major-general. as i have indicated, i stayed till it was over, and would do it again. as the reader will have seen, the work of a spy is at all times unpleasant, exceedingly dangerous as well as thankless. it is, however, a necessary service in war. there is with some minds a vague impression that this secret service necessarily implies deceit and treachery. this is so only in the same sense that the strategy so often applied by the general is treachery. strategy is an artifice of war that is considered honorable, and is practiced by all the nations, yet it is seldom, if ever, applied without resorting to deceit and treachery. therefore a spy may be as honorable as the general, who profits by his work. often the victories of the generals are made possible by the preliminary information obtained of the enemy's force and movements, yet the official reports of the victorious generals give the despised spy no credit. it is the _motive_ which should give character to any service. with me there was no mercenary consideration, and, as will be seen, the service became in a manner almost involuntary. i was simply willing to sacrifice myself that i might accomplish some good for the cause. after the lapse of so many years, there has recently been unveiled in hartford, connecticut, a monument to the memory of nathan hale, who was a spy of the revolutionary war, captured and executed on his first attempt to work in the enemy's lines. upon this tablet are these words: stranger, beneath this stone lies the dust of a a spy who perished upon the gibbet; yet the storied marbles of the great, the shrines of heroes, entombed not one more worthy of honor than him who here sleeps his last sleep. nations bow with reverence before the dust of him who dies a glorious death, urged on by the sound of the trumpet and the shouts of admiring thousands. but what reverence, what honor, is not due to one who for his country encountered even an infamous death, soothed by no sympathy, animated by no praise! i would, as a last word, again say that my efforts as a spy during the rebellion were prompted solely by a disinterested patriotism and a single desire to do some good for the country. when my time is up, and i am mustered out, i ask of my comrades, of the grand army of the republic, not a monument, but a simple head-stone to a "low green tent" with the bivouac of unknown at arlington, marked-- [illustration: the boy spy] * * * * * [illustration] the new alpine edition titles library style gilt top this series comprises of the most popular and standard works by the world's best authors, such as: barrie, bunyan, hall caine, cooper, corelli, curtis, dickens, doyle, dumas, eliot, hawthorne, henty, holmes, hugo, irving, kipling, longfellow, poe, scott, sienkiewicz, thackeray, jules verne, whittier, and embraces every department of science, art, literature, philosophy, history and fiction. they are printed from large, new clear type on a superior quality of laid paper, and substantially bound in bedford ribbed silk cloth. title stamped on back in genuine gold and original designs stamped on the side and back in inks, with hand-burnished gilt top--library style; size Ã� - / . price cents per volume. t. s. arthur ten nights in a bar room balzac wild ass's skin j. m. barrie when a man's single window in thrums r. d. blackmore lorna doone charlotte bronte jane eyre bulwer-lytton alice ernest maltravers last days of pompeii john bunyan holy war pilgrim's progress hall caine bondman, the deemster, the marie calm bella's blue book rosa n. carey mary st. john not like other girls wee wifie wooed and married ralph connor black rock j. fenimore cooper deerslayer, the last of the mohicans pathfinder, the pilot, the pioneers, the prairie, the spy, the two admirals water witch wing and wing marie corelli ardath romance of two worlds thelma vendetta wormwood maria cummins lamplighter, the geo. w. curtis prue and i charles dickens bleak house child's history of england christmas stories david copperfield dombey and son great expectations martin chuzzlewit nicholas nickleby old curiosity shop oliver twist our mutual friend pickwick papers tale of two cities a. conan doyle white company, a j. h. drummond addresses natural law in the spiritual world alexander dumas count of monte cristo, the edmund dantes louise de la valliere man in the iron mask, the son of porthos three guardsmen, the twenty years after viscount de bragelonne george ebers egyptian princess, an uarda george eliot adam bede daniel deronda felix holt middlemarch mill on the floss romola silas marner jessie fothergill first violin, the goldsmith and johnson vicar of wakefield, and rasselas p. g. hamerton intellectual life nathaniel hawthorne scarlet letter w. heimburg gertrude's marriage misjudged g. a. henty with lee in virginia with wolfe in canada marietta holly samantha at saratoga mary j. holmes dora deane english orphans homestead on the hillside lena rivers maggie miller meadowbrook farm tempest and sunshine oliver wendell holmes autocrat of the breakfast table thomas hughes tom brown's school days tom brown at oxford victor hugo by order of the king rev. j. h. ingraham pillar of fire prince of the house of david throne of david washington irving alhambra, the knickerbocker's history of n.y. sketch book jerome k. jerome three men in a boat charles kingsley hyputia rudyard kipling barrack room ballads h. w. longfellow longfellow's poems sir john lubbock pleasures of life edna lyall donovan hardy norseman, a in the golden days knight errant we two won by waiting e. marlitt bailiff's maid gold elsie old mam'selle's secret ik marvel (d. g. mitchell) dream life reveries of a bachelor owen meredith lucile miscellaneous aesop's fables andersen's fairy tales arabian knight's entertainments bacon's essays don quixote--cervantes elizabeth and her german gardener english woman's love letters epictetus, discourses of golden butterfly, besant and rice grimm's fairy tales gulliver's travels plutarch's lives robinson crusoe--de foe swiss family robinson--wyss wood's natural history miss mulock john halifax francis parkman california and the oregon trail edgar allan poe poe's tales jane porter scottish chiefs thaddeus of warsaw r. m. roche children of the abbey sir walter scott heart of midlothian ivanhoe kenilworth anna sewall black beauty henryk sienkiewicz quo vadis samuel smiles character duty self help thrift herbert spencer education st. pierre paul and virginia robert louis stevenson treasure island harriet beecher stowe uncle tom's cabin bayard taylor views afoot jeremy taylor holy living alfred tennyson tennyson's poems wm. makepeace thackeray henry esmond vanity fair jules verne floating island michael strogoff mysterious island, the tour of the world in days , leagues under the sea john g. whittier whittier's poems augusta evans-wilson beulah inez mrs. henry wood east lynn * * * * * "harkaway" series of books for boys _by bracebridge hemyng_ no more readable books for the young have ever been printed than these fifteen volumes bound in linen cloth, back and side stamped in ink _price cents per copy_ jack harkaway's school days jack harkaway after school days jack harkaway afloat and ashore jack harkaway at oxford, part i jack harkaway at oxford, part ii jack harkaway among the brigands, part i jack harkaway among the brigands, part ii jack harkaway's adventures around the world jack harkaway in america and cuba jack harkaway's adventures in china jack harkaway's adventures in greece, part i jack harkaway's adventures in greece, part ii jack harkaway's adventures in australia jack harkaway and his boy tinker, part i jack harkaway and his boy tinker, part ii all books sent, postpaid, to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, upon receipt of price, in currency, postal or express money orders. m. a. donohue & co., - dearborn street chicago webster's handy american dictionary. containing pages, mo; 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[illustration] this is the choicest, newest and most complete collection of patriotic recitations published, and includes all of the best known selections, together with the best utterances of many eminent statesmen. selections for decoration day, fourth of july, washington's, grant's and lincoln's birthdays, arbor day, labor day, and all other patriotic occasions. there are few more enjoyable forms of amusement than entertainments and exhibitions, and there is scarcely anything more difficult to procure than new and meritorious material appropriate for such occasions. this book is designed to fill the want. handsomely bound in paper covers cents cloth cents * * * * * complete guide to dancing ball room etiquette and quadrille call book [illustration] containing all the new and modern square dances and tabulated forms for the guidance of the leader or others in calling them. full and complete directions for performing every known square dance, such as plain quadrilles, polka quadrilles, prairie queen, varieties quadrille, francaise, dixie figure, girl i left behind me, old dan tucker, money musk, waltz lanciers, military lanciers, columbian lanciers, oakland minuet, waltz quadrilles, etc. the "german" introduces over one hundred of the newest and most popular figures, fully described, and conveniently grouped for ready reference. every information in regard to the service of ball room etiquette, duties of leaders and general instruction is fully and clearly given. handsomely bound in paper covers cents cloth cents * * * * * for sale by all book and newsdealers, or sent to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, postage paid, on receipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn st., chicago. [illustration] natural history stories. we have included in this series a carefully selected number of books that will fascinate and interest, as well as instruct, old and young alike. the books are printed from large, clear type; are profusely illustrated and are bound in a substantial and attractive manner in cloth, artistically stamped in inks from unique dies. price of each book is $ . , postpaid. history of animals, their varieties and oddities. comprising graphic descriptions of nearly all known species of beasts and reptiles the world over, illustrating their varied habits, mode of life and distinguishing peculiarities, by means of delightful anecdotes and spirited engravings, by the rev. w. bingley, a. m. containing pages of large, clear type, and over illustrations; bound in cloth; stamped in inks from unique dies. price, $ . . history of birds. containing their varieties and habits, and comprising sketches of every known species of birds in all climes; illustrating their use, value and culture, by the rev. w. bingley, a. m. containing pages of clear type text and nearly illustrations, made especially for this work; bound in cloth and stamped in inks from unique dies. large mo, - / Ã� inches. price, $ . . history of the sea. comprising a complete description of all the varieties of the finny inhabitants of the sea, showing their mode of life, and illustrating their habits and usefulness, by rev. w. bingley, a. m. containing over pages of large, clear type, and nearly illustrations; bound in cloth; stamped in inks from unique dies. price, $ . . * * * * * for sale by all book and news dealers, or will be sent to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, postage paid, on receipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn st. chicago how to become rich a treatise on phrenology a choice of professions and matrimony a self-instructor by prof. william windsor, ph. d. _fully illustrated_ [illustration] every young man and woman of reasonable intelligence is, or ought to be, possessed of a laudable ambition to be self-sustaining. to win a competency, to secure the necessities, to have even the luxuries of life, is perfectly praiseworthy, provided they are obtained in a legitimate manner. every rational man seeks the occupation, trade or profession which ensures the profitable employment of his best talents, and the science which discloses to the youth at the beginning of his education what those talents are and how they may be developed to perfection in early manhood, confers upon him the greatest favor within the gift or knowledge, from a financial standpoint. that a knowledge of phrenology does this, and more, this book proves beyond all question. paper, pages. price, cents. * * * * * faciology or, the science of character a self-instructor by l. b. stevens, ll. b. _ illustrations_ [illustration] "faciology" opens up an old, familiar and picturesque field of observation in a new and scientific light; it gives one a mortgage on man, a _quasi_-ownership in every creature and individual that comes within our range of contemplation; this science stimulates our observation and augments our reason; it teaches us to interrogate the causes and meaning of human actions, intensifies our interest in humanity, and fills the heart with a higher and more ardent devotion to philanthropy. paper, pages. price, cents. * * * * * for sale by all book and newsdealers, or will send to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, postage prepaid, on receipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn street chicago lives of famous men edited by charles walter brown, a. m. in this series of historical and biographical works the publishers have included only such books as will interest and instruct the youth of both sexes. a copy should be in every public school and private library. special discount made when entire set is ordered. they are printed from large, clear type on an excellent quality of paper and substantially and attractively bound in cloth, stamped in inks and gold from original designs. each book is fully illustrated. price, $ . per copy, postpaid. life of george washington. by george washington parke custis, the adopted son of our first president. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of abraham lincoln. by hon. joseph h. barrett, ex-member of congress. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of u. s. grant. by hon. b. p. poore and kev. o. h. tiffany, d. d. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of william mckinley. by murat halstead, chauncey m. depew and john sherman. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of theodore roosevelt. by thomas w. handford. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of henry m. stanley. by a. m. godbey, a. m. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of john paul jones. by charles walter brown, a. m. cloth, nearly pages, mo. life of ethan allen. by charles walter brown, a. m. cloth, nearly pages, mo. life of w. t. sherman. by hon. w. fletcher johnson and gen. o. o. howard. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of p. t. barnum. by hon. joel benton. cloth, pages, large, mo. life of t. dewitt talmage. by charles francis adams. cloth, nearly pages. life of d. l. moody. by charles francis adams. cloth, pages, large, mo. for sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, upon receipt of price in currency, stamps, postal or express money order. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn st., chicago. fortune telling, magic, tableaux, pantomimes, plays, speakers, etc. twentieth century wonder book by wm. c. hunter [illustration] a storehouse of wonderful things for the entertainment, instruction, information and amusement of the home circle. a book for everybody; embracing riddles, conundrums and autograph album mottoes, lessons in parlor magic, interesting parlor games, clairvoyant, the language of flowers, chemical experiments, tableau, pantomimes and true interpretation of dreams, prognostications by cards explaining all cards and how to define them, charms, charades, how to delineate character, signs, omens, fortune telling, etc., etc. the most wonderful book ever compiled. bound in cloth c. bound in paper c. dearborn speaker pages mo. cloth embracing original and select readings, recitations, declamations and dialogues, with introductory observations of eminent elocutionists and dramatists on the study and practice of elocution. printed from new plates, substantially bound, with title stamped in gold. price c. tommy's first speaker pages, mo. cloth [illustration] containing selections for boys and girls that are simple, serious, quaint and pleasant and so short that they can be easily memorized. over selections, bound in art vellum cloth, titles stamped on the front cover. price c. tommy's second speaker pages, mo. cloth comprising selections for boys and girls of a more advanced age than those for whom tommy's first speaker was written. over selections, bound in art vellum cloth, title stamped on front cover in ink from ornamental design. price c. m. a. donohue &. co., chicago. famous books for boys these are new and superior editions of these famous authors' books for boys. they are printed from new plates on an excellent quality of paper while many are profusely illustrated. each book is sewed, thus making a flexible back, so that it opens easily, making its reading a pleasure and a comfort. the covers are printed in two colors from appropriate designs on a heavy coated enameled paper in assorted colors. from the modern authors' library by g. a. henty boy knight, a cornet of horse facing death final reckoning in freedom's cause in times of peril in the reign of terror jack archer one of the th orange and green out on the pampas true to the old flag under drake's flag with lee in virginia by j. fenimore cooper last of the mohicans, the pathfinder, the pioneers, the prairie, the spy, the deerslayer by victor hugo by order of the king cosette fantine hans of iceland history of a crime jean valjean marius ninety-three notre dame de paris st. denis toilers of the sea by emile gaboriau file no. -- gilded clique lecoq, the detective lerouge case, the mystery of orcival by jules verne michael strogoff mysterious island tour of the world in days twenty thousand leagues under the sea by h. rider haggard allan quartermain allan's wife cleopatra jess king solomon's mines miawa's revenge mr. meeson's will she price, postpaid c each or any five for $ . for sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, upon receipt of price in currency, stamps, postal or express money order. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn st., chicago comic readings and recitations compiled by charles walter brown, a. m. [illustration] few of the selections contained in this book have ever before appeared in print. copyright matter has been procured at great expense from the greatest wits of the age. such delightful entertainers as ezra kendall, lew dockstadter, josh billings, james whitcomb riley, marshall p. wilder, mark twain, bret harte, opie read, bill nye, petroleum v. nashby, artemus ward, together with the best from "puck," "judge," "life," "detroit free press," "arizona kicker," renders this book the best of its kind published. paper covers, printed in two colors on enameled paper, cents. cloth, gold titles, original designs, stamped in inks, cents. * * * * * the american star speaker and model elocutionist by charles walter brown, a. m. [illustration] many speakers are advertised to be _the best_, but a comparison is all that is necessary to convince anyone that our claim that =the american star speaker & model elocutionist= is beyond all question the best from an elocutionary point of view. of the or more selections there is not one that is not available for reading on any desired occasion. the treatise on acting, delsarte, elocution, oratory and physical culture is by the professor of these departments in the missouri state university, while its mechanical make-up is that of a work of art, for the text and half-tone illustrations are the best made. no home, school, church, club, literary society, lodge or library is complete without this book. it gives more for the money than any similar work published. space forbids further details. satisfaction is guaranteed. elegantly and substantially printed and bound in the best silk cloth, the national emblems being stamped from artistic designs in the patriotic colors. price, $ . . for sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in the united states, canada or mexico upon receipt of price in currency, postal or express money order. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn street chicago biographies _of_ prominent border bandits profusely illustrated frank and jesse james by j. w. buel [illustration] the life and daring deeds of noted criminals have a wonderful fascination for most people the world over. the highway robber, road agent or bank plunderer who boldly takes his life in his hands and makes a desperate dash after other people's money at once finds himself a hero. pages. price: cloth, cents; paper, cents. the younger brothers by j. w. buel the lives of these men need no romantic or exaggerated shading to make the narrative remarkable. their deeds are as prominent in the archives of guerrilla warfare as their names are familiar on the border. pages. price: cloth, cents; paper, cents. the dalton brothers by llew williams this is a remarkable tale of the adventures of these noted bandits in their plunderings on the border. the work is fully illustrated from life and graphically depicts the desperate and startling criminal careers of all the men who composed the notorious dalton gang. pages. price: cloth, cents; paper, cents. harry tracy, the bandit by w. b. hennessy the career of tracy, which thrilled and horrified two continents, is still the sensation of the day. his deeds of crime and outlawry are unparalleled. like the james boys, the youngers and the daltons, he began his depredations in missouri, which state was also the scene of the "labors" of the quantrells and the benders. pages; full page illustrations. price: cloth, cents; paper, cents. twin hells by john m. reynolds this is a thrilling narrative of life in kansas and missouri penitentiaries. endorsed by over clergymen, wardens and state officials as a book that should be read by every youth and citizen for its moral influences, information and excitement. it is absolutely unsurpassed for interest and reflection. pages. price: cloth, cents; paper, cents. cow boy life in texas by w. s. james this is the only realistic and yet withal true recital of wild life on the boundless plains of texas, it being the actual experience of years in the exciting life of a genuine cow boy. the author was born in texas at a time when no man's life was safe and the whole southwest from the missouri to the rio grande was infested with cruel and blood-thirsty outlaws. contains more than illustrations from life. pages. price: cloth, cents; paper, cents. * * * * * for sale by all book and news dealers, or will be sent to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, postage paid, on receipt of price in currency, money order or stamps. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn street, chicago the greatest life of abraham lincoln yet published by hon. jos. h. barrett, and charles walter brown, a. m. [illustration] in this great work which embraces the complete life of the greatest man of modern times, nothing has been omitted or slighted. his early history, political career, speeches, both in and out of congress, the great lincoln-douglas debates, every state paper, speech, message and two inaugural addresses are given in full, together with many characteristic =stories and yarns= by and concerning lincoln, which have earned for him the sobriquet the story telling president. in addition there is included a =complete account of his assassination=, death and burial, together with the trial and execution of his assassins. this immense volume of pages contains nearly , words, being six times larger than the average school history. size of book - / Ã� , inches thick, weighing nearly pounds. price, $ . . * * * * * sent postpaid to any address in the united states, canada or mexico upon receipt of price, in currency, express or postal money order or stamps. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn street chicago picturesque american biographies "in john paul jones and ethan allen, mr. brown found two of the most picturesque figures in the life of the country, and he has shown himself able to deal with them as historical persons, without detracting anything from the romantic qualities of their individuality. he competes with historical fiction by developing the superior interest of the facts as they grew out of the life of his heroes and the life of their times. few biographies intended for popular reading and the widest general circulation illustrate this same faculty of measuring statement and giving its governing value to fact while developing the picturesque and the romantic as it lies latent in history."--william vincent byars in _the st. louis star_. * * * * * life and deeds of ethan allen and the green mountain boys by charles walter brown, a. m. [illustration] author of "john paul jones," "nathan hale," "lafayette," "pulaski," "washington," "abraham lincoln," "sherman." illustrations "it is the best 'life' of ethan allen published."--_chicago chronicle._ "it abounds in incidents, anecdotes and adventures."--_louisville courier journal._ "it is a painstaking and accurate biography, possessing the fascination of romance."--_st. louis republic._ "the account of the expedition into canada and allen's lamentable capture by the british, near montreal, holds the reader's attention with all the force of a work of fiction."--_chicago journal._ mo, cloth, size - / Ã� - / , nearly pages. price, postpaid $ . life and deeds of john paul jones of naval fame by charles walter brown, a. m. illustrations [illustration] "this book is a credit to any publishing house."--_detroit free press._ "the publication is a careful and commendable one."--_chicago journal._ "the public will readily welcome this new and valuable biography of john paul jones."--_indianapolis sentinel._ "mr. brown is a faithful biographer and historian, and has the happy knack of making his hero live again in the imagination of his host of readers."--_literary life, new york._ size, - / Ã� - / ; nearly pages; mo, cloth. price, postpaid $ . this set of two volumes, "allen" and "jones" sent to one address, express paid, for $ . m. a. donohue & co., - dearborn street chicago standard english-spanish and spanish-english dictionary. containing pages; white and red edges. size, - / Ã� inches. printed from new plates on good paper; bound in cloth; title stamped on side and back. price, cents. kohler's english-german and german-english dictionary. red and white edges, new plates, good paper, bound in cloth, title on side and back. price, cents. masson's english-french and french-english dictionary. printed on good paper, substantially bound, title on side and back. price, cents. donohue's vest pocket webster's manual for readers, writers and speakers. contains complete dictionary of , synonyms, besides complete tables and definitions, short words and phrases, etc.; how to read, write and speak. bound in cloth, red edges, cents. donohue's vest pocket dictionary and complete manual of parliamentary practice. containing pages; size, - / Ã� - / . it contains more words, more miscellaneous matter and embraces more pages than any other vest pocket dictionary on the market, and yet it is so admirably made that it does not bulk in the pocket. besides the dictionary of the english language it contains a dictionary of latin words and phrases, french words and phrases, italian words and phrases, spanish words and phrases, and complete manual of parliamentary practice. type clear, paper good and binding excellent. it is made in the following styles: bound in binders' cloth, red edges, without index, cents. bound in cloth, red edges, indexed, " bound in full leather, full gilt edges, indexed " * * * * * for sale by all book and newsdealers, or will send to any address in the united states, canada or mexico, postage prepaid, on receipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn st. chicago "harkaway" series of books for boys by bracebridge hemyng [illustration] "jack harkaway's school days" is one of the most fascinating and instructive books for boys published, and should be read by every boy before his th year. after reading this book the other should be read in the order in which they are given since each is a continuation of the one preceding. they are uniformly bound in linen cloth, stamped with original designs, in inks, on backs and sides. price per volume, cents "no more readable books for the young have ever been printed than these fifteen volumes."--_book and newsdealer._ jack harkaway's school days jack harkaway after school days jack harkaway afloat and ashore jack harkaway at oxford, part jack harkaway at oxford, part jack harkaway among the brigands, part jack harkaway among the brigands, part jack harkaway's adventures around the world jack harkaway in america and cuba jack harkaway's adventures in china jack harkaway's adventures in greece, part jack harkaway's adventures in greece, part jack harkaway's adventures in australia jack harkaway and his boy tinker, part jack harkaway and his boy tinker, part for sale by all book and newsdealers or will be sent postpaid upon receipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps, to any address in the united states, canada or mexico. m. a. donohue & co. - dearborn st. chicago love letters with directions how to write them by ingoldsby north. 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[illustration] pages and illustrated with photographs and scenes in half-tone, taken from f. c. whitney's great dramatic production. a new and complete translation, printed from large, clear type, on superior quality of paper, and bound in ornamental cloth with title stamped on front and back from unique dies. a sumptuous edition of this masterpiece. price, cloth, $ . ; paper, cents. in his steps. by charles m. sheldon. [illustration] pages, illustrated with beautiful half-tone engravings. printed from new, clear type on superior paper, bound in ornamental cloth, stamped from unique dies, title on side and back in gold. over three million copies of this book have been sold, and it has been the aim of the publishers to make this edition the most attractive illustrated edition at a popular price. price, cloth, $ . ; paper, cents. sappho. by alphonse daudet. [illustration] pages, illustrated with half-tone reproductions of the striking climaxes of the play. new type, superior paper and bound in ornamental cloth, embellished with unique stamping on side and back in gold. price, cloth, $ . ; paper, cents. black rock, a tale of the selkirks. by ralph connor. [illustration] printed from new plates, on good paper and bound in art linen cloth, and stamped in three colors from ornamental designs on side and back. containing attractive frontispiece. a new edition of one of the most popular and best selling books of the year, and has been universally commended by the press and public as a work in which the freshest humor, purest pathos, and the most exquisite tenderness are portrayed. bound in cloth, stamped in two inks from unique dies. price, cloth, $ . ; paper, cents. for sale by all booksellers or postpaid by m. a. donohue & company, chicago. * * * * * transcriber's notes: chapter xviii was duplicated in the text. the table of contents has been changed to reflect the chapter numbers given in the text. punctuation has been standardised. minor printer errors (e.g. omitted, superfluous or transposed characters) have been fixed. misspelled words have been corrected to match correct spellings found elsewhere in the text. corrections to proper nouns are listed below. inconsistencies in hyphenation were retained in the text if both variations were used in equal amounts. title page, "signalling" changed to "signaling" (mysteries of signaling) illustration was published at page in error. it has been moved to page . illustration was published at page in error. it has been moved to page . page vi, "breckenridge" changed to "breckinridge" (breckinridge--extra) page , "fredericksburgh" changed to "fredericksburg" (ferry, fredericksburg) page , "mongomery" changed to "montgomery" (while in montgomery) page , "mcrea" changed to "mcrae" (through fort mcrae) page , "pansacola" changed to "pensacola" (there were at pensacola) page , "harrisburgh" changed to "harrisburg" (to baltimore and harrisburg)*** page , "fredricksburg" changed to "fredericksburg" (visit to fredericksburg) page , "manasses" changed to "manassas" (out to manassas junction) page , "manasses" changed to "manassas" (hill road manassas) page , "manasses" changed to "manassas" (richmond and manassas) page , "laynard" changed to "lanyard" (colonel and lanyard) page , "rocket's" changed to "rockett's" (prison and rockett's) page , "mccellan's" changed to "mcclellan's" (attacked mcclellan's) page , "manasses" changed to "manassas" (known me at manassas) page , "morehead" changed to "moorehead" (moorehead, who represented) page , "moorhead" changed to "moorehead" (general moorehead agreed) page , "holidaysburg" changed to "hollidaysburg" (blair, of hollidaysburg) page , "fredricksburg" changed to "fredericksburg" (fredericksburg with mcdowell) page , "pinkertown" changed to "pinkerton" (his pinkerton crowd) page , "fredericksburgh" changed to "fredericksburg" (telegrapher at fredericksburg) illustration following page , changed "capital" to "capitol" (in old capitol prison) illustration following page , changed "capital" to "capitol" (in old capitol prison) page , "fredricksburg" changed to "fredericksburg" (official at fredericksburg) page , "fredricksburg" changed to "fredericksburg" (charge, at fredericksburg) page , "pleasanton" changed to "pleasonton" three times in this paragraph (pleasonton and his friends) page , "stonemen" changed to "stoneman" (stoneman was too much of) page , "mormans" changed to "mormons" (among the mormons) alleghany and allegheny both used in this text. pretence and pretense both used in this text. the german secret service in america - [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ count johann von bernstorff, the responsible director of germany's secret policies in america] the german secret service in america - by john price jones author of "america entangled" and paul merrick hollister [illustration: logo] boston small, maynard & company publishers copyright, , by small, maynard & company (incorporated) "it is plain enough how we were forced into the war. the extraordinary insults and aggressions of the imperial german government left us no self-respecting choice but to take up arms in defense of our rights as a free people and of our honor as a sovereign government. the military masters of germany denied us the right to be neutral. they filled our unsuspecting communities with vicious spies and conspirators and sought to corrupt the opinion of our people in their own behalf. when they found they could not do that, their agents diligently spread sedition amongst us and sought to draw our own citizens from their allegiance--and some of these agents were men connected with the official embassy of the german government itself here in our own capital. they sought by violence to destroy our industries and arrest our commerce. they tried to incite mexico to take up arms against us and to draw japan into a hostile alliance with her--and that, not by indirection but by direct suggestion from the foreign office in berlin. they impudently denied us the use of the high seas and repeatedly executed their threat that they would send to their death any of our people who ventured to approach the coasts of europe. and many of our own people were corrupted. men began to look upon their neighbors with suspicion and to wonder in their hot resentment and surprise whether there was any community in which hostile intrigue did not lurk. what great nation in such circumstances would not have taken up arms? much as we have desired peace, it was denied us, and not of our own choice. this flag under which we serve would have been dishonored had we withheld our hand." --woodrow wilson, flag day address june , introduction a nation at war wants nothing less than complete information of her enemy. it is hard for the mind to conceive exactly what "complete information" means, for it includes every fact which may contain the lightest indication of the enemy strength, her use of that strength, and her intention. the nation which sets out to obtain complete information of her enemy must pry into every neglected corner, fish every innocent pool, and collect a mass of matter concerning the industrial, social and military organization of the enemy which when correlated, appraises her strength--and her weakness. nothing less than full information will satisfy the mathematical maker of war. germany was always precociously fond of international statistics. she wanted--the present tense is equally applicable--full information of america and her allies so as to attack their vulnerable points. she got a ghastly amount of it, and she attacked. this book sets forth how secret agents of the teutonic governments acting under orders have attacked our national life, both before and after our declaration of war; how men and women in germany's employ on american soil, planned and executed bribery, sedition, arson, the destruction of property and even murder, not to mention lesser violations of american law; how they sought to subvert to the advantage of the central powers the aims of the government of the united states; how, in short, they made enemies of the united states immediately the european war had broken out. the facts were obtained by the writer first as a reporter on the _new york sun_ who for more than a year busied himself with no other concern, and afterwards in an independent investigation. some of them he has cited in a previous work. this book brings the story of germany's secret agencies in america up to the early months of . because the writer during the past six months has devoted his entire time to the liberty loan, it became necessary for him to leave the rearrangement of the work entirely in the hands of the co-author, and he desires to acknowledge his complete indebtedness to the co-author for undertaking and carrying out an assignment for which the full measure of reward will be derived from a sharper american consciousness of the true nature of our enemy at home and abroad. so we dedicate this chronicle to our country. john price jones. new york, june , . contents chapter page i the organization the economic, diplomatic and military aspects of secret warfare in america--germany's peace-time organization--von bernstorff, the diplomat--albert, the economist--von papen and boy-ed, the men of war. ii the conspirators' task the terrain--lower new york--the consulates--the economic problem of supplying germany and checking supplies to the allies--the diplomatic problem of keeping america's friendship--the military problem in canada, mexico, india, etc.--germany's denial. iii the raiders at sea the outbreak of war--mobilization of reservists--the hamburg-american contract--the _berwind_--the _marina quezada_--the _sacramento_--naval battles. iv the wireless system the german embassy a clearing house--sayville--german's knowledge of u. s. wireless--subsidized electrical companies--aid to the raiders--the _emden_--the _geier_--charles e. apgar--the german code. v military violence the plan to raid canadian ports--the first welland canal plot--von papen, von der goltz and tauscher--the project abandoned--goltz's arrest--the tauscher trial--hidden arms--louden's plan of invasion. vi paul koenig justice and metzler--koenig's personality--von papen's checks--the "little black book"--telephone codes-- shadowing--koenig's agents--his betrayal. vii false passports hans von wedell's bureau--the traffic in false passports--carl ruroede--methods of forgery--adams' coup--von wedell's letter to von bernstorff--stegler-- lody--berlin counterfeits american passports--von breechow. viii incendiarism increased munitions production--the opening explosions-- orders from berlin--von papen and seattle--july, --the van koolbergen affair--the autumn of --the pinole explosion. ix more bomb plots kaltschmidt and the windsor explosions--the port huron tunnel--werner horn--explosions embarrass the embassy--black tom--the second welland affair--harry newton--the damage done in three years--waiter spies. x franz von rintelen the leak in the national city bank--the _minnehaha_--von rintelen's training--his return to america--his aims--his funds--smuggling oil--the krag-joergensen rifles--von rintelen's flight and capture. xi ship bombs mobilizing destroying agents--the plotters in hoboken--von kleist's arrest and confession--the _kirk oswald_ trial--further explosions--the _arabic_--robert fay--his arrest--the ship plots decrease. xii labor david lamar--labor's national peace council--the embargo conference--the attempted longshoremen's strike--dr. dumba's recall. xiii the sinking of the lusitania the mistress of the seas--plotting in new york--the _lusitania's_ escape in february, --the advertised warning--the plot--may , --diplomatic correspondence--gustave stahl--the results. xiv commercial ventures german law in america--waetzoldt's reports--the british blockade--a report from washington--stopping the chlorine supply--speculation in wool--dyestuffs and the _deutschland_--purchasing phenol--the bridgeport projectile company--the lost portfolio--the recall of the attachés--a summary of dr. albert's efforts. xv the public mind dr. bertling--the _staats-zeitung_--george sylvester viereck and _the fatherland_--efforts to buy a press association--bernhardi's articles--marcus braun and _fair play_--plans for a german news syndicate--sander, wunnenberg, bacon and motion pictures--the german-american alliance--its purposes--political activities--colquitt of texas--the "wisconsin plan"-- lobbying--misappropriation of german red cross funds--friends of peace--the american truth society. xvi hindu-german conspiracies the society for advancement in india--"gaekwar scholarships"--har dyal and _gadhr_--india in -- papen's report--german and hindu agents sent to the orient--gupta in japan--the raid on von igel's office-- chakravarty replaces gupta--the _annie larsen_ and _maverick_ filibuster--von igel's memoranda--har dyal in berlin--a request for anarchist agents--ram chandra--plots against the east and west indies-- correspondence between bernstorff and berlin, --designs on china, japan and africa--chakravarty arrested--the conspirators indicted. xvii mexico, ireland, and bolo huerta arrives in new york--the restoration plot--german intrigue in central america--the zimmermann note--sinn fein--sir roger casement and the easter rebellion--bolo pacha in america and france--a warning. xviii america goes to war bernstorff's request for bribe-money--the president on german spies--interned ships seized--enemy aliens--interning german agents--the water-front and finger-print regulations--pro-german acts since april, --a warning and a prophecy. appendix a german propagandist. list of illustrations count johann von bernstorff _frontispiece_ page the german embassy in washington captain franz von papen captain karl boy-ed william j. flynn thomas j. tunney dr. karl buenz passport given to horst von der goltz paul koenig hans von wedell and his wife franz von rintelen robert fay dr. constantin dumba the _lusitania_ advertisement of the german embassy checks signed by adolf pavenstedt george sylvester viereck letter from count von bernstorff check from count von bernstorff letter-paper of "the friends of peace" dr. chakravarty jeremiah a. o'leary paul bolo pacha the german secret service in america chapter i the organization the economic, diplomatic and military aspects of secret warfare in america--germany's peace-time organization--von bernstorff, the diplomat--albert, the economist--von papen and boy-ed, the men of war. when, in the summer of , the loaded dice fell for war, germany began a campaign overseas as thoughtfully forecasted as that first headlong flood which rolled to the marne. world-domination was the prussian objective. it is quite natural that the united states, whose influence affected a large part of the world, should have received swift attention from berlin. america and americans could serve germany's purpose in numerous ways, and the possible assets of the united states had been searchingly assayed in berlin long before the arrival of "der tag." the day dawned--and germany found herself hemmed in by enemies. her navy did not control the oceans upon which she had depended for a large percentage of her required food and raw materials, and upon which she must continue to depend if her output were to keep pace with her war needs. if surprise-attack should fail to bring the contest to a sudden and favorable conclusion, germany was prepared to accept the more probable alternative of a contest of economic endurance. therefore, she reasoned, supplies must continue to come from america. of importance scarcely secondary to the economic phase of her warfare in the united states was the diplomatic problem. here was a nation of infinite resources, a people of infinite resource. this nation must be enlisted on the side of the central powers; failing that, must be kept friendly; under no circumstances was she to be allowed to enlist with the allies. one fundamental trait of americans germany held too lightly--their blood-kinship to britons--and it is a grimly amusing commentary upon the confidence of the german in bonds teutonic that he believed that the antidote to this racial "weakness" of ours lay in the large numbers of germans who had settled here and become americans of sorts. but the german was alarmingly if not absolutely correct in his estimate, for upon the conduct and zeal of germans in america actually depended much of the success of germany's diplomatic tactics in america. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ the german embassy in washington, headquarters and clearing-house of german intrigue in the world outside mittel-europa, - ] the war, then, so far as the united states figured in germany's plan, was economic and diplomatic. but it was also military. german representatives in the united states were bound by oath to coöperate to their utmost in all military enterprises within their reach. with a certain few notable exceptions, no such enterprises came within their reach, and if the reader anticipates from that fact a disappointing lack of violence in the narrative to follow, let him remember that "all's fair in war," and that every german activity in the united states, whether it was economic, diplomatic or military, was carried on with a certain prussian thoroughness which was chiefly characterized by brutal violence. we have come to believe that thoroughness is the first and last word in german organization. any really thorough organization must be promptly convertible to new activities without loss of motion. if these new activities are unexpected, the change is more or less of an experiment, and its possibilities are not ominous. but truly dangerous is the organization which transfers suddenly to coping with the expected. germany had expected war for forty years. her peace-time organization in america consisted of four executives: an ambassador, a fiscal agent, a military attaché, and a naval attaché. its chief was the ambassador, comparable in his duties and privileges to the president of a corporation, the representative with full authority to negotiate with other organizations, and responsible to his board of directors--the foreign office in berlin. its treasurer was the fiscal agent. and its department heads were the military and naval attachés, each responsible in some degree to his superiors in matters of policy and finances, and answerable also to berlin. the functions of the chief were two-fold. convincing evidence produced by the state department has placed at his door the ultimate responsibility for executing germany's commands not in the united states alone, but throughout all of the world excepting middle europe. under his eyes passed berlin's instructions to her envoys in both americas, and through his hands passed their reports. he directed and delegated the administration of all german policy in the western world and the far east, and of course directed all strictly diplomatic enterprises afoot in the united states. germany could hardly have chosen an abler envoy than this latest of all the bernstorffs, johann, a statesman whose ancestors for generations had been saxon diplomats. a glance at the man's countenance convinced one of his powers of concentration: the many lines of his face seemed to focus on a point between his eyebrows. and yet his expression was hardly grim. the modeling of his head was unusually strong, his features sensitive, with no trace of weakness. if there had been weakness about his mouth, it was concealed by the conventional ferocity of a hohenzollern moustache, and yet those untruthful lips could part in an ingratiating smile which flashed ingenuous friendliness. his frame was tall and slender, his mannerisms suggested carefully bridled nervous activity. the entire appearance of the man may best be described by a much-abused term--he was "distinguished." count von bernstorff, once his nation had declared war upon france and england, went to war with the united states. as ambassador, diplomatic courtesy gave him a scope of observation limited only by the dignity of his position. a seat in a special gallery in the senate and house of representatives was always ready for his occupancy; he could virtually command the attention of the white house; and senators, congressmen and office-holders from german-american districts respected him. messengers kept him in constant touch with the line-up of congress on important issues, and two hours later that line-up was known in the foreign office in berlin. as head and front of the german spy system in america, he held cautiously aloof from all but the most instrumental acquaintances: men and women of prominent political and social influence who he knew were inclined, for good and sufficient reasons, to help him. one woman, whose bills he paid at a fifth avenue gown house, was the wife of a prominent broker and another woman of confessedly german affiliations who served him lived within a stone's throw of the metropolitan museum and its nearby phalanx of gilded dwellings (her husband's office was in a building at broadway, of which more anon); a third woman intimate lived in a comfortable apartment near fifth avenue--an apartment selected for her, though she was unaware of it, by secret agents of the united states. during the early days of the war the promise of social sponsorship which any embassy in washington could extend proved bait for a number of ingénues of various ages, with ambition and mischief in their minds, and the gracious ambassador played them smoothly and dexterously. mostly they were not german women, for the german women of america were not so likely to be useful socially, nor as a type so astute as to qualify them for von bernstorff's delicate work. to those whom he chose to see he was courteous, and superficially frank almost to the point of naïveté. the pressure of negotiation between washington and berlin became more and more exacting as the war progressed, yet he found time to command a campaign whose success would have resulted in disaster to the united states. that he was not blamed for the failure of that campaign when he returned to germany in april, , is evidenced by his prompt appointment to the court of turkey, a difficult and important post, and in the case of michaelis, a stepping-stone to the highest post in the foreign office. upon the shoulders of dr. heinrich albert, privy counsellor and fiscal agent of the german empire, fell the practical execution of german propaganda throughout america. he was the american agent of a government which has done more than any other to coöperate with business towards the extension of influence abroad, on the principle that "the flag follows the constitution." as such he had had his finger on the pulse of american trade, had catalogued exhaustively the economic resources of the country, and held in his debt, as his nation's treasurer in america, scores of bankers, manufacturers and traders to whom germany had extended subsidy. as such also he was the paymaster of the imperial secret diplomatic and consular agents. you could find him almost any day until the break with germany in a small office in the hamburg-american building (a beehive of secret agents) at no. broadway, new york. he was tall and slender, and wore the sombre frock coat of the european business man with real grace. his eyes were blue and clear, his face clean-shaven and faintly sabre-scarred, and his hair blond. he impressed one as an unusual young man in a highly responsible position. his greeting to visitors, of whom he had few, was punctilious, his bow low, and his manner altogether polite. he encouraged conversation rather than offered it. he had none of the "hard snap" of the energetic, outspoken, brusque american man of business. dr. albert was a smooth-running, well-turned cog in the great machine of prussian militarism. upon him rested the task of spending between $ , , and $ , , a week for german propaganda. he spent thirty million at least--and only germany knows how much more--in secret agency work, also known by the uglier names of bribery, sedition and conspiracy. he admitted that he wasted a half million or more. he had a joint account with bernstorff in the chase national bank, new york, which amounted at times to several millions. his resources gave weight to his utterances in the quiet office overlooking broadway, or in the german club in central park south, or in the consulates or hotels of chicago and new orleans and san francisco, to which he made occasional trips to confer with german business men. his colleagues held him in high esteem. his methods were quiet and successful, and his participation in the offences against america's peace might have passed unproven had he not been engaged in a too-absorbing conversation one day in august, , upon a sixth avenue elevated train. he started up to leave the train at fiftieth street, and carelessly left his portfolio behind him--to the tender care of a united states secret service man. it contained documents revealing his complicity in enterprises the magnitude of which beggars the imagination. the publication of certain of those documents awoke the slumbering populace to a feeling of chagrin and anger almost equal to his own at the loss of his dossier. and yet he stayed on in america, and returned with the ambassadorial party to germany only after the severance of diplomatic relations in , credited with expert generalship on the economic sector of the american front. germany's military attaché to the united states was captain franz von papen. his mission was the study of the united states army. in august, , it may be assumed that he had absorbed most of the useful information of the united states army, which at that moment was no superhuman problem. in july of that year he was in mexico, observing, among other matters, the effect of dynamite explosions on railways. he was quite familiar with mexico. according to admiral von hintze he had organized a military unit in the lukewarm german colony in mexico city, and he used one or more of the warring factions in the southern republic to test the efficacy of various means of warfare. the rumble of a european war sent him scurrying northward. from mexico on july he wired captain boy-ed--of whom more presently--in new york to " ... arrange business for me too with pavenstedt," which referred to the fact that boy-ed had just engaged office space in the offices of g. amsinck & company, new york, which was at that time a german house of which adolph pavenstedt was the president, but which has since been taken over by american interests. and he added: "then inform lersner. the russian attaché ordered back to washington by telegraph. on outbreak of war have intermediaries locate by detective where russian and french intelligence office." the latter part of the message is open to two interpretations: that boy-ed was to have detectives locate the russian and french secret service officers; or that boy-ed was to place german spies in those offices. captain von papen reported to his ministry of war anent the railway explosions: "i consider it out of the question that explosives prepared in this way would have to be reckoned with in a european war...." a significant opinion, which he changed later. what of the man himself? he was all that "german officer" suggested at that time to any one who had traveled in germany. his military training had been exhaustive. though he had not seen "active service," his life, from the early youth when he had been selected from his gymnasium fellows for secret service in abteilung iii of the great bureau, had been unusually active. he had traveled as a civilian over various countries, drawing maps, harking to the sentiment of the people, and checking from time to time the operations of resident german agents abroad. his disguises were thorough, as this incident will illustrate: in hamburg, at the army riding school where von papen was trained, young officers are taught the french style. yet one fine morning in central park he stopped to chat with an acquaintance who had bought a mare. von papen admired the mount, promptly named its breed, and told in what counties in ireland the best specimens of that breed could be found--information called up from a riding tour he had made over the length and breadth of ireland. it is commonly said that horsemen trained in the french style cling to its mannerisms, but a cavalier revealing those mannerisms in ireland, where the style is exclusively english, would have attracted undue attention. so he had disguised even his horsemanship! [illustration: _copyright, international news service_ captain franz von papen] a man who moves constantly about among more or less unsuspecting peoples seeking their military weakness becomes intolerant. tolerance is scarcely a german military trait, and in that respect captain von papen was consistently loyal to his own superior organization. "i always say to those idiotic yankees they had better hold their tongues," he wrote to his wife in a letter which fell later into the hands of those same "bloedsinnige" yankees. he was inordinately proud of his facility in operating unobserved, arrogant of his ability, and blunt in his criticism of his associates. he telegraphed boy-ed on one occasion to be more cautious. the gracious colleague replied, in a letter: "dear papen: a secret agent who returned from washington this evening made the following statement: 'the washington people are very much excited about von papen and are having a constant watch kept on him. they are in possession of a whole heap of incriminating evidence against him. they have no evidence against count b. and captain b-e (!).'" and boy-ed, a trifle optimistically, perhaps, added: "in this connection i would suggest with due diffidence that perhaps the first part of your telegram is worded rather too emphatically." von papen was a man of war, a prussian, the feldmarschal of the kaiser in america. in appearance he bespoke his vigor: he was well set up, rawboned, with a long nose, prominent ears, keen eyes and a strong lower jaw. he was energetic in speech and swift in formulating daring plans. in those first frantic weeks after the declaration of war he reached out in all directions to snap taut the strings that held his organization together--german reservists who had been peaceful farmers, shopkeepers or waiters, all over the united states, were mobilized for service, and paraded through battery park in new york shouting "deutschland, deutschland ueber alles!" to the strains of the austrian hymn, while they waited for papen's orders from a building near by, and picked quarrels with a counter procession of frenchmen screaming the immortal "marseillaise." up in his office sat the attaché, summoning, assigning, despatching his men on missions that were designed to terrorize america as the spiked helmets were terrorizing belgium at that moment. and he, too, failed. although von papen marshaled his consuls, his reservists, his thugs, his women, and his skilled agents, for a programme of violence the like of which america had never experienced, the military phase of the war was not destined for decision here, and there is again something ironical in the fact that the arrogance of captain von papen's outrages hastened the coming of war to america and the decline of captain von papen's style of warfare in america. the kaiser's naval attaché at washington was karl boy-ed, the child of a german mother and a turkish father, who had elected a naval career and shown a degree of aptitude for his work which qualified him presently for the post of chief lieutenant to von tirpitz. he was one of the six young officers who were admitted to the chief councils of the german navy, as training for high executive posts. in the capacity of news chief of the imperial navy, boy-ed carried on two highly successful press campaigns to influence the public on the eve of requests for heavy naval appropriations, the second, in , calling for , , marks. he spread broadcast through cleverly contrived pamphlets and through articles placed in the subsidized press, a national resentment against british naval dominion. his duties took him all over the world as naval observer, and he may be credited more than casually with weaving the plan-fabric of marine supremacy with which germany proposed in due time to envelop the world. so he impressed diplomatic washington in as a polished cosmopolite. polished he was, measured by the standards of diplomatic washington, for rare was the young american of boy-ed's age who had his cultivation, his wide experience, and his brilliant charm. he was sought after by admiring mothers long before he was sought after by the secret service; he moved among the clubs of washington and new york making intimates of men whose friendship and confidence would serve the fatherland, cloaking his real designs by frivolity and frequent attendances at social functions. his peace-time duties had been to study the american navy; to familiarize himself with its ship power and personnel, with its plans for expansion, its theories of strategy, its means of supply, and finally, with the coast defenses of the country. he had learned his lesson, and furnished berlin with clear reports. on those reports, together with those of his colleagues in other countries, hinged germany's readiness to enter war, for it would have been folly to attempt a war of domination with america an unknown, uncatalogued naval power. (it will be well to recall that the submarine is an american invention, and that germany's greatest submarine development took place in the years - .) [illustration: _copyright, international news service_ captain karl boy-ed (on the right)] and then, suddenly, he dropped the cloak. the turk in him stood at attention while the german in him gave him sharp orders--commands to be carried out with oriental adroitness and prussian finish. then those who had said lightly that "boy-ed knows more about our navy than annapolis itself" began to realize that they had spoken an alarming truth. his war duties were manifold. like von papen, he had his corps of reservists, his secret agents, his silent forces everywhere ready for active coöperation in carrying out the naval enterprises germany should see fit to undertake in western waters. america learned gradually of the machinations of the four executives, bernstorff, albert, papen and boy-ed. america had not long to wait for evidences of their activity, but it was a long time before the processes of investigation revealed their source. it was inevitable that they could not work undiscovered for long, and they seem to have realized that they must do the utmost damage at top speed. their own trails were covered for a time by the obscure identities of their subordinates. the law jumps to no conclusions. their own persons were protected by diplomatic courtesy. it required more than two years of tedious search for orthodox legal evidence to arraign these men publicly in their guilt, and when that evidence had finally been obtained, and germany's protest of innocence had been deflated, it was not these men who suffered, but their country, and the price she paid was war with america. a hundred or more of their subordinates have been convicted of various criminal offenses and sent to prison. still more were promptly interned in prison camps at the outbreak of war in . the secret army included all types, from bankers to longshoremen. many of them were conspicuous figures in american public life, and of these no small part were allowed to remain at large under certain restrictions--and under surveillance. germany's army in the united states was powerful in numbers; the fact that so many agents were working destruction probably hastened their discovery; the loyalty of many so-called german-americans was always questionable. the public mind, confused as it had never been before by the news of war, was groping about for sound fundamentals, and was being tantalized with false principles by the politicians. meanwhile count von bernstorff was watching congress and the president, dr. albert was busy in great schemes, captain von papen was commanding an active army of spies, and captain boy-ed was engaged in a bitter fight with the british navy. chapter ii the conspirators' task the terrain--lower new york--the consulates--the economic problem of supplying germany and checking supplies to the allies--the diplomatic problem of keeping america's friendship--the military problem in canada, mexico, india, etc.--germany's denial. the playwright selects from the affairs of a group of people a few characters and incidents, and works them together into a three-hour plot. he may include no matter which is not relevant to the development of his story, and although in the hands of the artist the play seems to pierce clearly into the characters of the persons involved, in reality he is constructing a framework, whose angles are only the more prominent salients of character and episode. the stage limits him, whether his story takes place in the kitchen or on the battlefield. the drama of german spy operations in america is of baffling proportions. its curtain rose long before the war; its early episodes were grave enough to have caused, any one of them, a nine-days' wonder in the press, its climax was rather a huge accumulation of intolerable disasters than a single outstanding incident, and its dénouement continued long after america's declaration of war. in the previous chapter we have accepted our limitations and introduced only the four chief characters of the play. it is necessary, in describing the motives for their enterprises, to appreciate the problems which their scene of operations presented. the world was their workshop. plots hatched in berlin and developed in washington and new york bore fruit from sweden to india, from canada to chili. the economic importance of the united states in the war needs no further proof than its vast area, its miles of seacoast, its volume of export and import, and its producing power. as a diplomatic problem it offered, among other things, a public opinion of a hundred million people of parti-colored temperament, played upon by a force of some , publications. as a military factor, the united states possessed a strong fleet, owned the only atlantic-pacific waterway, was bounded on the south by mexico and the coveted gulf, and on the north by one of germany's enemies. there was hardly a developed section of the nation which did not require prompt and radical german attention, or one which did not receive it in proportion to its industrial development. washington, as the governmental capital, and new york as the real capital became at once the headquarters of german operations in the western world. count von bernstorff directed all enterprises from the imperial embassy in washington, and from the ritz-carlton in new york. an ambassador was once asked by an ingenuous woman at a new york dinner whether he often ran counter of european spies. "oh, yes," he replied. "i used to stop at the ----, but my baggage was searched by german agents so often that i moved to the ----. but there it was just as bad." "didn't you complain to the management?"--the lady wanted particulars. "no," the diplomat answered naturally, "for you see every time bernstorff stops at the ---- i have his baggage searched, too!" the strands of intrigue focussed from every corner of america upon the lower tip of manhattan. in a tall building at broadway, which towers over bowling green and confronts the new york custom house, captain boy-ed had his office. a long stone's throw to the northward stood the hamburg-american building; there dr. albert carried on much of his business. captain von papen had offices on the twenty-fifth floor of no. wall street. if we regard broadway as the tip of a triangle, with wall street and broadway forming its right angle and wall street as its other extremity, we find that its imaginary hypotenuse travels through the building of j. p. morgan & company, chief bankers for the allies; through the new york stock exchange, where the so-called "christmas leak" turned a pretty penny for certain german sympathizers in ; through the home of the standard oil companies, as well as through several great structures of less strategic importance. there is more than mere coincidence in this geometrical freak--germany held her stethoscope as close as possible to the heart of american business. fortunately, however, the offices of chief william j. flynn--until january, , head of the united states secret service--were in the custom house near by. after business hours these men met their subordinates at various rendezvous in the city; the hotels were convenient, the manhattan was frequently appointed, and the deutscher verein at central park south was the liveliest ganglion of all the nerve centers of a system of communication which tapped every section of the great community. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ william j. flynn, chief of the united states secret service until , who led the hunt of the german spy] in the lesser cities the german consulate served as the nucleus for the organization. that in san francisco is conspicuous for its activity, for it prosecuted its own warfare on the entire pacific coast. wherever it was necessary german sympathizers furnished accommodations for offices and storage room. headquarters of every character dotted the country from salons to saloons, from skyscrapers to cellars, each an active control in the manipulation of germany's almost innumerable enterprises. those enterprises may be best outlined perhaps, by recalling the three phases of warfare which germany had to pursue. america had shipped foodstuffs and raw materials in enormous quantities for many years to germany. dr. albert must see to it that she continue to do so. the imperial funds were at his disposal. he had already the requisite contact with american business. but let him also exert his utmost influence upon america to stop supplying the allies. if he could do it alone, so much the better; if not, he was at liberty to call upon the military and naval attachés. but in any case "food and arms for germany and none for the allies" was the economic war-cry. american supplies must be purchased for germany and shipped through the european neutral nations, running the blockade. if capital proved obstinate and the allies covered the market, it would be well to remember that labor produced supplies; labor must therefore be prevented from producing or shipping to the allies. if labor refused to be interfered with, the cargoes should be destroyed. his enormous task would depend, of course, very much upon the turn of affairs diplomatic. the state department must be kept amicable. the glad hand was to be extended to official america, while the mailed fist thrashed about in official america's constituencies. thus also with congress, through influential lobbying or the pressure of constituents. count von bernstorff knew that the shout raised in a far-off state by a few well-rehearsed pacifists, reinforced by a few newspaper comments, would carry loud and clear to washington. upon his shoulders rested the entire existence of the german plan, and he spent a highly active and trying thirty months in washington in an attempt to avoid the inevitable diplomatic rupture. the military problem quickly resolved itself into two enterprises: carrying war to the enemy, and giving aid and comfort to its own forces--in this case the german navy. as the war progressed, and the opportunity for strictly military operations became less likely, the two captains occupied their time in injecting a quite military flavor into the enterprises bernstorff and albert had on foot. as a strategic measure mexico must divert america's attention from europe and remove to the border her available forces. meanwhile, german reservists must be supplied to their home regiments. failing that they must be mobilized for service against germany's nearest enemy here--canada. german raiders at sea must be supplied. german communication with her military forces abroad must be maintained uninterrupted. long after the departure of the principals for their native land the enterprises persisted. it may be well here to extend to the secret agents of the united states the tribute which is their due. to chief flynn, of the united states secret service of the treasury department, to a. bruce bielaski, head of the special agents of the department of justice, to w. m. offley, former superintendent of the new york bureau of special agents, to roger b. wood, assistant united states district attorney, to his successor, john c. knox, (now a federal judge), to raymond b. sarfaty, mr. wood's assistant who developed the rintelen case, to former police commissioner arthur woods of new york, his deputy, guy scull, his police captain, thomas j. tunney, and to the men who worked obscurely and tirelessly with them to avert disasters whose fiendish intention shook the faith if not the courage of a nation. those men found germany out in time. [illustration: inspector thomas j. tunney of the new york police department, head of the "bomb squad" and foremost in apprehending many important german agents] germany was fluent in her denials. when the president in his message to congress in december, , bitterly attacked germans and german-americans for their activities in america, accusing the latter of treason, the german government authorized a statement to the berlin correspondent of the new york _sun_ on december , , to the effect that it "naturally has never knowingly accepted the support of any person, group of persons, society or organization seeking to promote the cause of germany in the united states by illegal acts, by counsels of violence, by contravention of law, or by any means whatever that could offend the american people in the pride of their own authority. if it should be alleged that improper acts have been committed by representatives of the german government they could be easily dealt with. to any complaints upon proof as may be submitted by the american government suitable response will be duly made.... apparently the enemies of germany have succeeded in creating the impression that the german government is in some way, morally or otherwise, responsible for what mr. wilson has characterized as anti-american activities, comprehending attacks upon property in violation of the rules which the american government has seen fit to impose upon the course of neutral trade. this the german government absolutely denies. it cannot specifically repudiate acts committed by individuals over whom it has no control, and of whose movements it is neither officially nor unofficially informed." to this statement there is one outstanding answer. it is an excerpt from the german book of instructions for officers: "bribery of the enemy's subjects with the object of obtaining military advantages, acceptances of offers of treachery, reception of deserters, utilization of the discontented elements in the population, support of the pretenders and the like are permissible; indeed international law is in no way opposed to the exploitation of the crimes of third parties (assassination, incendiarism, robbery and the like) to the prejudice of the enemy. considerations of chivalry, generosity and honor may denounce in such cases a hasty and unsparing exploitation of such advantages as indecent and dishonorable, but law, which is less touchy, allows it. the ugly and inherently immoral aspect of such methods cannot affect the recognition of their lawfulness. the necessary aim of war gives the belligerent the right and imposes upon him, according to circumstances, the duty not to let slip the important, it may be decisive, advantages to be gained by such means." ("the war book of the german general staff," translated by j. h. morgan, m.a., pp. - .) chapter iii the raiders at sea the outbreak of war--mobilization of reservists--the hamburg-american contract--the _berwind_--the _marina quezada_--the _sacramento_--naval battles. a fanatic student in the streets of sarajevo, bosnia, threw a bomb at a visiting dignitary, and the world went to war. that occurred on the sunny forenoon of june , . the assassin was chased by the police, the newspaper men, and the photographers, who reached him almost simultaneously, and presently the world knew that the archduke francis ferdinand, of austria, was the victim, and that a plain frightened fellow, struggling in the shadow of a doorway, was his assailant. austria's resentment of the crime mounted during july and boiled over in the ultimatum of july . five days later, with germany's permission, austria declared war on servia. by this time continental tempers had been aroused, and the central empires knew that "der tag" had come. austria, russia, germany, england, france and belgium entered the lists within a fortnight. by mid-july germany had warned her agents in other lands of the imminence of war and a quiet mobilization had begun of the more important reservists in america. captain von papen, after dispatching his telegram from mexico via el paso to captain boy-ed, hurried to washington, arriving there on august . he began to weld together into a vast band the scientists, experts, secret agents and german army-reservists, who were under german military oaths, and were prepared to gather information or to execute a military enterprise "zu befehl!" how rapidly he assembled his staff is shown in testimony given on the witness stand by "horst von der goltz," alias bridgeman taylor, alias major wachendorf, a german spy who had been a major in a mexican army until july. a german consul in el paso had sounded out goltz's willingness to return to german service. "a few days later, the rd of august, , license was given by my commanding officer to separate myself from the service of my brigade for the term of six months. i left directly for el paso, texas, where i was told by mr. kueck, german consul at chihuahua, mexico, who stayed there, to put myself at the disposition of captain von papen." this was two days before the final declaration of war. all german and austro-hungarian consulates received orders to coördinate their own staffs for war service. germany herself supplied the american front with men by wireless commands to all parts of the world. captain hans tauscher, who enjoyed the double distinction of being agent in america for the krupps and husband of a noted operatic singer, mme. johanna gadski, chanced to be in berlin when war broke out, reported for duty and was at once detailed to return to the united states and report to von papen, as wilhelmstrasse saw the usefulness of an ordnance expert in intimate touch with our ordnance department and our explosives plants. two german officers detailed to topographical duty, who had spent years mapping japan, and were engaged in the same work in british columbia, jumped the border to the united states, taking with them their families, their information and their fine surveying and photographic instruments, and in the blocking out of the country which the wise men in the east were performing, were assigned to the white mountains. railroads and ships to the atlantic seaboard bore every day new groups of reserve officers from the orient and south america to new york for sailing orders. they found von papen already there. he established a consultation headquarters at once with boy-ed in a room which they rented in the offices of g. amsinck & co., at hanover street. from that time forward, new york was to be his base of operations, and it was at that moment especially convenient to von bernstorff's summer establishment at newport. the naval situation at once became active. in the western and southern atlantic a scattered fleet of german cruisers was still at large. the british set out eagerly to the chase. security lay in southern waters, and the german craft dodged back and forth through the straits of magellan. from time to time the quarry was forced by the remoteness of supply to show himself, and a battle followed; in the intervals, the germans lay _perdu_, dashing into port for supplies and out again to concealment, or wandering over seldom traveled ocean tracks to meet coal and provision ships sent out from america. captain boy-ed received from berlin constant advices of the movements of his vessels. on july , dr. karl buenz, the american head of the hamburg-american line, had a cable from berlin which he read and then forwarded to the embassy in washington for safekeeping. until buenz had had no steamship experience, having been successively a judge in germany, a consul in chicago and new york, and minister to mexico. when at the age of he was appointed hamburg-american agent, one of the first matters which came to his attention was the consummation of a contract between the admiralty division of the german government and the steamship line, which provided for the provisioning, during war, of german ships at sea, using america as a base. this contract was jealously guarded by the embassy. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ dr. karl buenz, managing director of the hamburg-american line] the cablegram of july called on dr. buenz to carry out this contract. there was consultation at once with boy-ed for the location of the vessels to be supplied, merchant ships were chartered or purchased, then loaded, and despatched. the first to leave new york harbor was the _berwind_. there was hesitancy among the conspirators as to who should apply for her clearance papers--documents of which dr. buenz protested he knew nothing. they finally told g. b. kulenkampff, a banker and exporter, that the _berwind_ was loaded with coal, and directed him to get the clearance papers. he swore to a false manifest of her cargo and got them. the _berwind_ carried coal to be sure--but she also carried food for german warships, and she was not bound for buenos aires, as her clearance papers stated. thus the united states, by innocently issuing false papers, made herself, on the third day of the war, a party to german naval operations. the steamship _lorenzo_ dropped down the harbor, ostensibly for buenos aires, on the following day, august , cleared by a false manifest, and bearing coal and food for german sailors. on these ships, and on the _thor_ (from newport news for fray bentos, uruguay), on the _heine_ (from philadelphia on august for la guayra), on the _j. s. mowinckel_ and the _nepos_ (out of philadelphia for monrovia) and others boy-ed and buenz had placed supercargoes bearing secret instructions. these men had authority to give navigating orders to the captains once they were outside the three-mile limit--orders to keep a rendezvous with german battleships by wireless somewhere in the atlantic wastes. the _berwind_ approached the island of trinidad and herr poeppinghaus, who was her supercargo, directed the captain to lie to. five german ships, the _kap trafalgar_, _pontus_, _elinor woerman_, _santa lucia_ and _eber_, approached and the transfer of supplies started. it was interrupted by the british converted cruiser _carmania_. she engaged in a brisk two-hour duel with the _kap trafalgar_ which ended only when the latter sank into the tropical ocean. the _berwind_ meanwhile put the horizon between herself and the _carmania_. few of the chartered ships carried out their intentions, although their adventures were various. hear the story of the _unita_: her skipper was eno olsen, a canadian citizen born in norway. urhitzler, the german spy placed aboard, made the mistake of assuming that olsen was friendly to germany. he gave him his "orders," and the skipper balked. "'nothing doing,' i told the supercargo," captain olsen testified later, with a norwegian twist to his pronunciation. "she's booked to cadiz, and to cadiz she goes! so the supercargo offered me $ to change my course. 'nothing doing--nothing doing for a million dollars,' i told him. the third day out he offered me $ , . nothing doing. so," announced captain olsen with finality, "i sailed the _unita_ to cadiz and after we got there i sold the cargo and looked up the british consul." one picturesque incident of the provisioning enterprise was the piratical cruise of the good ship _gladstone_, rechristened, with a german benediction, _marina quezada_. under the name of _gladstone_, the ship had flown the norwegian flag on a route between canada and australia, but shortly after the outbreak of war she put into newport news. simultaneously a sea captain, hans suhren, a sturdy german formerly of the pacific coast, appeared in new york, called upon captain boy-ed, who took kindly interest in him, and then departed for newport news. here he assumed charge of the _marina quezada_. "i paid $ , in cash for her," he told first officer bentzen. after hiring a crew, he hurried back to new york, where he received messages in care of "nordmann, room , broadway, n. y. c."--captain boy-ed's office. captain boy-ed had already told him to erect a wireless plant on his ship--the equipment having been shipped to the _marina quezada_--and to hire a wireless operator. he then handed suhren a german naval code book, a chart with routes drawn, and sailing instructions for the south seas, there to await german cruisers. food supplies, ordered for the steamer _unita_ (which at that time had been unable to sail) were wasting on the piers at newport news and captain boy-ed ordered them put in the _marina quezada_. two cases of revolvers also were sent to the boat. again suhren went back to the ship and kept his wireless operators busy and speeded up the loading of the cargo, which was under the supervision of an employee of the north german lloyd. needing more money before sailing in december, , he drew a draft for $ , on the hamburg-american line, wiring adolf hachmeister, the purchasing agent, to communicate with "room , broadway." then trouble arose over the ship's registry. though suhren insisted that he owned her, a corporation in new york whose stockholders were costa ricans were laying claim to ownership, for they had christened her and had secured provisional registration from the costa rican minister in washington. permanent registry, however, required application at port limon, costa rica. so hauling down the norwegian ensign that had fluttered over the ship as the _gladstone_, captain suhren ran up the costa rican emblem. he had obtained false clearance papers stating his destination as valparaiso. they were based upon a false manifest, and he sailed for port limon. the costa rican authorities declined to give suhren permanent papers, and he found himself master of a ship without a flag, and in such status not permitted under international law to leave port. he waited for a heavy storm and darkness, then quietly slipping his anchor, he sped out into the high seas, a pirate. off pernambuco he ran up the norwegian flag, put into port and got into such difficulties with the authorities that his ship and he were interned. his supplies never reached the raiders and boy-ed learned of another fiasco. the _lorenzo_, _thor_ and _heine_ were seized at sea. the _bangor_ was captured in the straits of magellan. out of twelve shiploads of supplies, only some $ , worth were ever transshipped to german war vessels. this involved a considerable loss, as the following statement of expenditures for those vessels made by the hamburg-american line will show: _steamer_ _total payment_ _thor_ $ , . _berwind_ , . _lorenzo_ , . _heine_ , . _nepos_ , . _mowinckel_ , . _unita_ , . _somerstad_ , . _fram_ , . _craecia_ , . _macedonia_ , . _navarra_ , . ------------- total $ , , . where did the money come from? the hamburg-american line, under the ante-bellum contract, placed at captain boy-ed's disposal three payments of $ , each from the deutsches bank, berlin; the deutsches bank forwarded through wessells, kulenkampff & co., credit for $ , more. "i followed the instructions of captain boy-ed," kulenkampff testified. "he instructed me at different times to pay over certain amounts either to banks or firms. i transferred $ , to the wells-fargo nevada national bank in san francisco, $ , to the north german lloyd, then $ , to the north german lloyd. the balance of $ , i placed to the credit of the deutsches bank with gontard & co., successors to my former firm. that was reduced to about $ , by payments drawn at captain boy-ed's request to the order of the hamburg-american line." the north german lloyd was serving as the captain's pacific operative, which accounts for the transfer of the funds to the west. (the same line, through its baltimore agent, paul hilken, was also coöperating at this time, but not to an extent which brought the busy hilken into prominence as did his later connection with the merchant submarine, _deutschland_.) following the course of the funds, federal agents eventually uncovered the operations of germans on the pacific coast, and secured the arrest and convictions of no less personages than the consular staff in san francisco. the steamship _sacramento_ left san francisco with a water-line cargo of supplies. a firm of customs brokers in san francisco was given a fund of $ , by the german consulate to purchase supplies for her; a fictitious steamship company was organized to satisfy the customs officials; on september an additional $ , was paid by the germans for her cargo; a false valuation was placed on her cargo, and she was cleared on october . two days later benno klocke and gustav traub, members of the crew, broke the wireless seals and got into communication with the _dresden_. klocke usurped the position of master of the vessel, and steered her to a rendezvous on november with the _scharnhorst_, off masafueros island, in the south pacific; six days later she provisioned and coaled the german steamship _baden_. she reached valparaiso empty. captain anderson said he could not help the fact that her supplies were swung outboard and into the _scharnhorst_ and _dresden_. captain fred jebsen, who was a lieutenant in the german naval reserve, took out a cargo of coal, properly bonded in his ship, the _mazatlan_, for guaymas, sonora, mexico. off the mouth of magdalena bay the _mazatlan_ met the _leipzig_, a german cruiser, and the cargo of coal was transferred to the battleship. one of jebsen's men, who had signed on as a cook, was an expert wireless operator, and he went to the _leipzig_ with three cases of "preserved fruits"--wireless apparatus forwarded by german agents in california. jebsen, after an attempt to smuggle arms into india, which will be discussed later, made his way to germany in disguise, and was reported to have been drowned in a submarine. the _nurnberg_ and _leipzig_ lay off san francisco for days in august, the former finally entering the golden gate for the amount of coal allowed her under international law. the _olson_ and _mahoney_, a steam schooner, was laden with supplies for the german vessels and prepared to sail, but after a considerable controversy with the customs officials, was unloaded. perhaps the most bizarre attempt to spirit supplies to the imperial navy was that in which the little barkentine _retriever_ figured as heroine. wide publicity was given the announcement that she was to be sailed out to sea and used as the locale of a motion picture drama. the government found out, however, that her hull was well down with coal, which did not seem vital to the scenario, and she was not permitted to leave port. the major portion of germany's naval strength lay corked in the kiel canal, where, except for a few indecisive sorties, germany's visible fleet was destined to remain for more than three years. at the outbreak of war, the _emden_, _dresden_, _scharnhorst_, _gneisenau_ and _nurnberg_ were at large in the southern oceans. on november the german cruisers met the british _monmouth_, _good hope_, _glasgow_ and _otranto_ off coronel, the chilean coast. the _monmouth_ and _good hope_ were struck a mortal blow and sunk. the _glasgow_ and _otranto_ barely escaped. in a battle off the falkland islands on december , as the german army was being thrown back from ypres, the _scharnhorst_, _leipzig_, _gneisenau_ and _nurnberg_ were sunk by a reinforced british fleet. (walter peters, one of the crew of the _leipzig_, floated about for six hours after the engagement, was picked up, made his way to mexico, and for more than three years was employed by a german vice-consul in mexico in espionage in the united states. peters was arrested as a dangerous enemy alien in crockett, california, in april, .) the _dresden_ and _karlsruhe_ escaped, and the former hid for two months in the fjords of the straits of magellan. on february , , an american tourist vessel, the _kroonland_, passed east through the straits and into punta arenas harbor, while out of the harbor sneaked the little _glasgow_, westward bound. the _dresden_, after the american had passed, had run for the open pacific; the _glasgow_, hot on her trail, engaged her off the chilean coast five days later and sank her, leaving only the _emden_ and _karlsruhe_ at large. the _karlsruhe_ disappeared. the last lone member of the pack was hunted over the seas for months, and finally was beached, but long before her activities became public the necessity for supplying the german ships expired, from the simple elimination of german ships to supply. captain boy-ed's first enterprise had been frustrated by the british navy and he turned to other and more sinister occupations. buenz, koetter and hachmeister were sentenced to eighteen months in atlanta, and poeppinghaus to a year and a day--terms which they did not begin to serve until .[ ] footnote: [ ] dr buenz' case is an enlightening example of the use made by german agents in america of the law's delays. he was sentenced in december, , for an offence committed in september, . he at once appealed his case to the higher courts, going freely about meanwhile on bail furnished by the hamburg american line. in march, , the supreme court of the united states, to which his case had finally been pressed, denied his appeal. his attorneys at once placed before president wilson, through attorney-general gregory, a request for a respite, or commutation of his sentence, which the president, on april , , denied. buenz pleaded the frailty of his years--which had not prevented him from keeping his social engagements while his appeal was pending. chapter iv the wireless system the german embassy a clearing house--sayville--germany's knowledge of u. s. wireless--subsidized electrical companies--aid to the raiders--the _emden_--the _geier_--charles e. apgar--the german code. the coördination of a nation's fighting forces depends upon that nation's system of communication. in no previous war in the world's history has a general staff known more of the enemy's plans. we look back almost patronizingly across a century to the semaphore which transmitted napoleon's orders from paris to the rhine in three hours; we can scarcely realize that if the report of a scout had ever got through to general hooker, warning him that a suspicious wagon train had been actually sighted a few miles away, stonewall jackson's flanking march at chancellorsville would have been checked in its first stages. in this greatest of all wars a british battery silences a german gun within two minutes after the allied airman has "spotted" the boche. the air is "any man's land." what lies beyond the hill is no longer the great hazard, for the wireless is flashing. if the allied general staffs had been provided with x-ray field-glasses, and had trained those glasses on a certain brownstone house in massachusetts avenue, between fourteenth and fifteenth streets, in washington, they would have been interested in the perfection of the german system of communication. they would have observed the secretarial force of the imperial embassy opening and sorting letters from confederates throughout the country, many so phrased as to be quite harmless, others apparently meaningless. the embassy served as a clearing-house for all german and allied air messages. long before the war broke out the german government had seen the military necessity for a complete wireless system. subsidies were secretly granted to the largest of the german electrical manufacturers to establish stations all over the globe. companies were formed in america, ostensibly financed with american funds, but on plans submitted to german capitalists and through them to the german foreign office for approval. thus was the sayville station erected. as early as a german captain, otto von fossberg, had been sent to america to select a site on long island for the station. "the german government is backing the scheme," he told a friend, although the venture was publicly supposed to be under the auspices of the "atlantic communication company," in which certain prominent german-americans held stock and office. in an expert, fritz von der woude, paid sayville a visit long enough to install the apparatus; he came under strict injunctions not to let his mission become generally known. boy-ed watched the progress of the sayville station with close interest and considerable authority, and his familiarity with wireless threw him into frequent and cordial relationship with the united states naval wireless men and the department of commerce. on one occasion the department requested a confidential report from a radio inspector of the progress made by foreign interests in wireless; the report prepared went to germany before it came to the hands of the united states government. again: the german government was informed in by boy-ed in washington that the united states intended to erect a wireless station at a certain point in the philippines; full details, as the navy department had developed them, were forwarded, and the german government immediately directed a large electrical manufacturer in berlin to bid for the work. the site the united states had selected was not altogether satisfactory to germany, for some reason, so the german government added this delicious touch: a confidential map of the philippines was turned over to the electrical house, with orders to submit a plan for the construction of the american station on a site which had been chosen by the german general war staff! the _providence journal_ claims to have discovered an interesting german document--probably genuine--which reveals the scope of the teutonic wireless project. it was a chart, bearing a rectangle labeled in german with the title of the german foreign office. from this "trunk" radiated three "branches," each bearing a name, and each terminating in the words. "telefunken co." the first branch was labeled "gesellschaft für drahtlose telegraphie, berlin"; the second, "siemens & halske, siemens-schuckert-werke, berlin"; the third, "allgemeine elektrizitäts-gesellschaft, berlin." from each branch grew still further subdivisions, labeled with the names of electrical firms or agents all over the world, and all subject to the direction of the german government. these names follow: from no. : atlantic communication co. (sayville), new york; australasian wireless co., ltd., sydney (australia); telefunken east asiatic wireless telegraph co., ltd., shanghai; maintz & co. (of amsterdam, holland), batavia (java); germann & co. (of hamburg), manila; b. grimm & co., bangkok; paetzold & eppinger, havana; spiegelthal, la guayra; kruger & co., guayaquil; brahm & co., lima; e. quicke, montevideo; r. schulbach, thiemer & co. (of hamburg), central america; sesto sesti, rome; a. d. zacharion & cie., athens; j. k. dimitrijievic, belgrade. from no. : siemens bros. & co., ltd., london; siemens & halske, vienna; siemens & halske, petrograd; siemens & halske (k. g. frank), new york; siemens-schuckert-werke, sofia; siemens-schuckert-werke, constantinople; siemens-schuckert-werke (dansk aktsielskab), copenhagen; siemens-schuckert-werke (denki kabushiki kaishe), tokio; siemens-schuckert-werke (companhia brazileira de electricidade), rio de janeiro; siemens-schuckert, ltd., buenos ayres; siemens-schuckert, ltd., valparaiso. from no. : a. e. g. union electrique, brussels; allgemeine elektrizitäts-gesellschaft, basel; a. e. g. elecktriska aktiebolaget, stockholm; a. e. g. electricitats aktieselskabet, christiania; a. e. g. thomson-houston iberica, madrid; a. e. g. compania mexicana, mexico; a. e. g. electrical company of south africa, johannesburg. the german manufacturers evinced a keen interest in the project of a wireless plant in nicaragua, laying special stress on the point that "permanent stations in this neighborhood" would be valuable "if the panama canal is fortified." from sayville station the german plan projected powerful wireless plants in mexico, at para, brazil; at paramaribo, dutch guiana; at cartagena, colombia, and at lima, peru. a point in which captain h. retzmann, the german naval attaché in , was at one time interested was whether signals could be sent to the german fleet in the english channel from america without england's interference. german naval wireless experts supervised the construction, and although the stations were nominally civilian-manned, and purely commercial, in reality the operators were often men of unusual scientific intellect, whose talents were sadly underpaid if they received no more than operators' salaries. gradually and quietly, germany year by year spread her system of wireless communication over central and south america, preparing her machinery for war. over her staff of operators and mechanics she appointed an expert in the full confidence of the embassy at washington, and in close contact with captain boy-ed. to the system of german-owned commercial plants in the united states he added amateur stations of more or less restricted radius, as auxiliary apparatus. when the war broke out, and scores of german merchantmen were confined to american ports by the omnipresence of the british fleet at sea, the wireless of the interned ships was added to the system. thus in every port lay a source of information for the embassy. the united states presently ordered the closing of all private wireless stations, and those amateurs who had been listening out of sheer curiosity to the air conversation cheerfully took down their antennae. not so, however, a prominent woman in whose residence on fifth avenue lay concealed a powerful receiving apparatus. nor did the interned ships obey the order: apparatus apparently removed was often rigged in the shelter of a funnel, and operated by current supplied from an apparently innocent source. and the secret service discovered stations also in the residences of wealthy hoboken germans, and in a german-american "mansion" in hartford, connecticut. the operators of these stations made their reports regularly through various channels to the embassy. there the messages were sorted, and it is safe to say that count von bernstorff was cognizant of the position of every ship on the oceans. he was in possession of both the french and british secret admiralty codes. in the light of that fact, the manoeuvres of the british and german fleets in the south atlantic and pacific became simply a game of chess, germany following every move of the british fleet under admiral cradock, knowing the identity of his ships, their gun-power, and their speed. when she located the _good hope_, _monmouth_, _glasgow_ and _otranto_ off coronel, berlin, through von bernstorff, gave admiral von spee the word to strike, with the results which we have observed: the sinking of the _monmouth_ and _good hope_, and the crippling of the _glasgow_ and _otranto_. throughout august, september and october, , the system operated perfectly. bernstorff and boy-ed were confronted with the problem of keeping the german fleet alive as long as possible, and inflicting as much damage as possible on enemy shipping. allied merchantmen left port almost with impunity, and were gathered in by german raiders who had been informed from washington of the location of their prey. but the defeat off chile apparently was conclusive proof to england that germany knew her naval code, and the events of november and december indicate that england changed her code. it was while engaged in escort duty to the first transport fleet of the australian expeditionary force that the australian cruiser _sydney_ received wireless signals from cocos island shrieking that the _emden_ was near by. the _emden_, having been deprived for some time of news of enemy ships, had gone there to destroy the wireless station, having in the past three months sunk some $ , , of british shipping. even while the island's distress signals were crashing out, the _emden_ had her own wireless busy in an effort to drown the call for help, or "jam" the air. on the following morning, november , the _sydney_ came up with the enemy. a sharp action followed. the _sydney's_ gunfire was accurate enough to cause the death of officers and men; her own losses were killed and wounded; the _emden_ fled, ran aground on north keeling island, one of the cocos group, and ultimately became a total wreck. in the same month the cruiser _geier_ fled the approach of the british and found refuge in honolulu harbor. her commander, captain karl grasshof, made the mistake of keeping a diary. that document, which later fell into the hands of the navy intelligence service, revealed a complete disrespect for the hospitality which the american government afforded the refugees. the _geier's_ band used to strike up for an afternoon concert, and under cover of the music, the wireless apparatus sent out messages to raiders at sea or messages in english so phrased as to start rumors of trouble between japan and the united states. the _geier_ was the source of a rumor to the effect that japanese troops had landed in mexico; the _geier_ gave what circulation she could to a report that germans in the united states were planning an invasion of canada and was ably assisted in this effort by george rodiek, german consul at honolulu; the _geier_ caught all trans-pacific wireless messages, and intercepted numerous united states government despatches. captain grasshof also spread a report quoting an american submarine commander as saying he would "like to do something to those japs outside" (referring to the japanese pacific patrol) provided he (the american commander) and the german could reach an agreement. this report grasshof attributed to von papen, and later retracted, admitting that it was a lie. grasshof's courier to the consulate in san francisco was a. v. kircheisen, a quartermaster on the liner _china_, a german secret service agent bearing the number k- . kircheisen frequently used the _china's_ wireless to send german messages. on december occurred the engagement off the falklands, which resulted in the defeat of the german fleet. the _karlsruhe_ within a short time gave up her aimless wanderings and disappeared. in february the _glasgow_ avenged herself on the _dresden_, and the _prinz eitel friedrich_ and the _kronprinz wilhelm_ fled into the security of hampton roads for the duration of war. the united states' suspicions had been aroused by the activity of the german wireless plants, but the arm of the law did not remove at once the german operators at certain commercial stations. they were the men who despatched communications to berlin and to the raiders. interspersed in commercial messages they sprinkled code phrases, words, numbers, a meaningless and innocent jargon. the daily press bulletin issued to all ships at sea was an especially adaptable vehicle for this practice, as any traveler who has been forced to glean his news from one of these bulletins will readily appreciate. there were americans shrewd enough, however, to become exceedingly suspicious of this superficially careless sending, and their suspicions were confirmed through the invention of another shrewd american, charles e. apgar. he combined the principles of the phonograph and the wireless in such a way as to record on a wax disc the dots and dashes of the message, precisely as it came through the receiver. the records could be studied and analyzed at leisure. and the united states government has studied them. at three o'clock every morning, the great wireless station at nauen, near berlin, uttered a hash of language into the ether. it was apparently not directed to any one in particular, nor did it contain any known coherence. unless the operator in america wore a deforest audian detector, which picks up waves from a great distance, he could not have heard it, and certainly during the early part of the war he paid no attention to it. the united states decided, however, that it might be well to eavesdrop, and so for over two years every utterance from nauen was transcribed and filed away, or run off on the phonograph, in the hope that repetition might reveal the code. until the code was discovered elsewhere, the phonographic records told no tales, but then the state department found that it had a priceless library of prussian impudence. the diplomatic code was a dictionary, its pages designated by serial letters, its words by serial numbers. thus the message " -b- -c- " signified the twelfth and fifteenth words on the second page, and the seventh word on the third page. this particular dictionary was one of a rare edition. to complement the diplomatic code the deutches bank, the german foreign office, and their commercial representatives, hugo schmidt and dr. albert, had agreed upon an arbitrary code which proved one of the most difficult which the american authorities have ever had to decipher. solution would have been impossible without some of the straight english or german confirmations which followed by mail, but as most of these documents were lost or destroyed, the deciphering had to be done by astute construction of testimony taken from schmidt as late as the fall of . he had made the work doubly difficult by burning the cipher key and most of his important papers in the furnace of the german club. simple phrases, such as might readily pass any censor without arousing suspicion, passed frequently through sayville station. the message "expect father to-morrow" meant "the political situation between america and germany grows worse. it is imperative that you take care of your new york affairs." "depot" meant "securities"; "depot pritchard" meant "securities to be held in germany"; "depot cooper" meant "securities to be forwarded to some neutral country in europe." schmidt himself had the following aliases: "john maley," "roy woolen," "sidney pickford," "george brewster," " congress street, brooklyn," "james frasier," or "andrew brodie." dr. albert was mentioned as "john herbinsen," "howard ackley," "leonard hadden," or "donald yerkes." james w. gerard, the american ambassador at berlin, was "wilbur mcdonald"; america was "fremessi" or "alfred lipton." to throw any suspicion off the scent, the phrase "hughes recovered" was translatable simply as "agreed," whereas "percy died" meant "disagreed." amounts of money were to be multiplied by one thousand. this cipher code, so far as it had any system at all, showed a skilful choice of arbitrary proper names, than which there is nothing less suggestive or significant when the name is backed up by no known or discoverable personality. these names met two requirements: they carefully avoided any names of personages, and they sounded english or american. following is a table of the commoner symbols used: code translation alcott hugo reisinger andeo payments are john hazel: chapman; thos. hadley g. amsinck & co. pythagoras errflint argentine finance minister lawrence mckay austrian ambassador at washington. john hastings; fred holden; wm. lounsbury flagside; chas. hall bankers trust co. henry galloway belgium frenchlike; blake berlin flammigere bethlehem steel co. percy bloomfield reichsbank gobber milbank or john childs capt. boy-ed george mallery british ambassador at washington charles thurston: caffney richard british government ernest whiskard central bank of norway frederick chappell, the submarine _deutschland_ walter harris; edmund hutton chase national bank mills edgar dr. dernberg albert hardwood empire trust co. herbert hastings, langman howard, luckett ernest equitable trust co. eversleigh new york sidney farmer and others speyer & co. francis hawkins farmers loan & trust co. francis manuel; edward gary german government fleshquake kuhn, loeb & co. clarence hadden first national bank floezanbel george j. gould floezuise j. p. morgan wm. gerome j. p. morgan & co. fluitkoker wm. barclay parsons fleuxerimus high official of bethlehem steel co. fogarizers chas. m. schwab john hayward norwegian government franklin giltrap hamburg-american line theodore hooper capt. von papen code names represented the guaranty trust co. paul overton; robt. hopkins hanover nat. bank george hedding standard mercantile agency hugh sturges paul hilken (_deutschland_) clarence marsh japanese ambassador at washington howard howe irving nat. bank herbert miller president of u. s. andrew mills secretary of commerce and labor theodore mitchell secretary of agriculture robert moffatt secretary of state frank monroe secretary of treasury walter montgomery secretary of navy dolling london robert london north german lloyd steven morgan united states congress frank mountcastle the name of the deutsches bank is not to be mentioned steven lawson royal bank of canada gafento toluol (high explosive) the chief significance of the discovery of the two codes is their conclusive proof that while von bernstorff was protesting to the american government that he could not get messages through to berlin, nor replies from the foreign office, he was actually in daily, if not hourly, communication with his superiors. messages were sent out by his confidential operators under the very eyes of the american naval censors. after the break of diplomatic relations with berlin, in february, , the authorities set to work decoding the messages, and the state department from time to time issued for publication certain of the more brutal proofs of germany's violation of american neutrality. the ambassador and his washington establishment had served for two years and a half as the "central exchange" of german affairs in the western world. after his departure communication from german spies here was handicapped only by the time required to forward information to mexico; from that point to berlin air conversation continued uninterrupted. chapter v military violence the plan to raid canadian ports--the first welland canal plot--von papen, von der goltz and tauscher--the project abandoned--goltz's arrest--the tauscher trial--hidden arms--louden's plan of invasion. underneath the even surface of american life seethed a german volcano, eating at the upper crust, occasionally cracking it, and not infrequently bursting a great gap. when an eruption occurred, america stopped work for a moment, stared in surprise, sometimes in horror, at the external phenomena, discussed them for a few days, then hurried back to work. more often than not it saw nothing sinister even in the phenomena. less than ten hours from german headquarters in new york lay canada, one of the richest possessions of germany's bitter enemy england. captain von papen had not only full details of all points of military importance in the united states, but had made practical efforts to utilize them. he knew where his reservists could be found in america. when the government, shortly after the outbreak of war, forbade the recruiting of belligerents within its boundaries, and then refused to issue american passports for the protection of soldiers on the way to their commands, captain von papen planned to mobilize and employ a german army on american soil in no less pretentious an enterprise than a military invasion of the dominion. the first plan was attributed to a loyal german named schumacher, whose ambiguous address was "eden bower farm, oregon." he outlined in detail to von papen the feasibility of obtaining a number of powerful motor-boats, to be manned by german-american crews, and loaded with german-american rifles and machine guns. from the ports on the shores of the great lakes he considered it practicable to journey under cover of darkness to positions which would command the waterfronts of toronto, sarnia, windsor and kingston, ontario, find the cities defenseless, and precipitate upon them a fair storm of bullets. a few canadian lives might be lost, which did not matter; an enormous hue and cry would be raised to keep the canadian troops at home to guard the back door. von papen entertained the plan seriously, and submitted it to count von bernstorff, who for obvious diplomatic reasons did not care to sponsor open violence when its proponent's references were unreliable, its actual reward was at best doubtful, and when subtle violence was equally practicable. von papen then produced an alternative project. cutting through the promontory which separates lake erie from the western end of lake ontario runs the welland canal, through which all shipping must pass to avoid niagara falls. this waterway is one of canada's dearest properties, and is no mean artery of supply from the great grain country of the northwest. its economic importance, however, was secondary in the german mind to the psychological effect upon canada which a dynamite calamity to the canal would certainly cause. the first expeditionary force of canadian troops was training frantically at valcartier, quebec. they must be kept at home. whether or not the idea originated with captain von papen is of little consequence (it may be safely assumed that berlin had long had plans for such an enterprise); the fact is that it devolved upon him as military commander to crystallize thought in action. the plot is ascribed to "two irishmen, prominent members of irish associations, who had both fought during the irish rebellion," and was to include destruction of the main railway junctions and the grain elevators in the vicinity of toronto. the picturesque renegade german spy commonly known as horst von der goltz is responsible for the generally accepted version of incidents which followed his first interview with von papen on august at the german consulate in new york. he was sent to baltimore under the assumed name of bridgeman h. taylor, with a letter to the german consul there, karl luederitz, calling for whatever coöperation goltz might need. he was to recruit accomplices from the crew of a german ship then lying at the north german lloyd docks in the patapsco river. with a man whom he had hired in new york, charles tucker, alias "tuchhaendler," he visited the ship and selected his men. he then returned to new york, where papen placed three more men at his disposal, one of them being a. a. fritzen, of brooklyn, a discharged purser on a russian liner; another frederick busse, an "importer," with offices in the world building, new york; and the third man constantine covani, a private detective, of new york. after a few days the sailors from baltimore reported for duty, but were sent back, as goltz noticed that his movements were being watched. papen sent goltz to captain tauscher's office at broadway for explosives. on september , captain tauscher ordered pounds of per cent. dynamite to be delivered by the e. i. du pont de nemours company to mr. bridgeman taylor. in a motor-boat goltz applied at a du pont barge near black tom island and the statue of liberty and took away his three hundred pounds of dynamite in suitcases. the little craft made its way up the river to th street. the conspirators then carried their burden to the german club in central park south and later in a taxicab to goltz's home, where it was stored with a supply of revolvers and electrical apparatus for exploding the charges. [illustration: passport given to horst von der goltz under the _alias_ of bridgeman h. taylor] a passport for facile entrance into canada had been applied for by one of luederitz's henchmen in baltimore in the name of "bridgeman taylor," and had been forwarded in care of karl w. buck, who lived at west end avenue, new york. with this guerdon of american protection goltz set out for buffalo about september --the last day of the battle of the marne--busse and fritzen carrying the dynamite and apparatus, and covani, as goltz naïvely related, "attending to me." he found rooms at delaware avenue, in the heart of buffalo. he learned of the terrain for the enterprise from a german of mysterious occupation, who had lived in buffalo for several years. within a few days goltz and his companions moved on to niagara falls--a move made easier by an exchange of telegraphic communications between papen and himself. it is only necessary to quote, from the british secret service report to parliament, those messages which goltz received from the attaché, or "steffens," as papen chose to sign himself: new york, n. y. sept. , mr. taylor, delaware ave. buffalo sent money today. consult lawyer john ryan six hundred thirteen mutual life building buffalo not later than seventeenth. steffens, central park south . p. new york, n. y. sept. - mr. taylor, delaware avenue, bflo. ryan got money and instructions. steffens, . p. goltz and covani "consulted" mr. ryan, who had received $ on september from papen through knauth, nachod & kuhne. then goltz claimed that he made two aeroplane flights over niagara falls, and "reconnoitered the ground." something went wrong, for after a week arrived the following telegrams: new york, n. y. sept. - . john t. ryan, mutual life bldg. buffalo. please instruct taylor cannot do anything more for him. steffens. : p. new york, n. y. sept. - . mr. taylor, care western union, niagara falls, n. y. do what you think best. did you receive dollars two hundred ryan . a. these messages are open to several constructions. they do not contradict goltz's claim that he "learned that the first contingent of canadian troops had left the camp." they could indicate that his chief was not fully satisfied with his technique. perhaps the most intriguing feature of the telegrams is their presence in a safe-deposit vault in holland when goltz was captured months later. it may be assumed that if (as he maintained) he was being watched constantly in buffalo by the united states secret service, one of the first things he would have done is to destroy any messages received. we leave the reader to decide--after he has traced goltz's history a step or two further. whatever the occasion, the welland enterprise was dismissed; the dynamite was left with an aviator in niagara falls; fritzen and busse were discharged from service, and covani and goltz left for new york. in a letter dated december , from buffalo, poor busse wrote to edmund pavenstedt, at william street, new york, pleading that he had been left without any money in niagara falls; that he had written to von papen and had been compelled to wait two weeks before he got $ . his expenses had accumulated during the fortnight, he could not find work, he even had sold his overcoat, and he begged pavenstedt to send him money to come back to new york. "my friend fritzen," he added, "was sent back some weeks ago by a gentleman in the german-american alliance.... i would appreciate anything you can do for me, especially since i enlisted in such a task ... von papen signs himself stevens." the military attaché was frankly disgusted at the failure of the undertaking. goltz claims to have explained everything satisfactorily, and to have been given presently a new commission--that of returning to germany for further instructions from abteilung iii of the general staff, the intelligence department of the empire. on october goltz sailed for europe, armed with his false passport, and a letter of introduction to the german consul-general in genoa. he reached berlin safely, received his orders, returned to england, and was arrested on november . the public was not informed of his arrest, yet in busse's letter from buffalo of december , he mentioned goltz's capture in london. news traveled fast in german channels. examination of his papers resulted in a protracted imprisonment, which daily grew more painful, and finally goltz agreed to turn state's evidence against his former confrères. it was not until march , , that captain tauscher was interrupted at his office by the arrival of agents of the department of justice, who placed him under arrest. he was held in $ , bail on a charge of having furthered a plot to blow up the welland canal. meanwhile goltz's confession had implicated him in something more than a casual acquaintance with the plot; stubs in the check-book of captain von papen established payment made by the latter to tauscher of $ . , which happened to be the exact total of two bills from the du pont company to captain tauscher for dynamite and hemp fuses delivered on september and to "bridgeman taylor." prior to the trial in june and july, , tauscher offered to plead guilty for a promise of the maximum fine without imprisonment, but his offer was rejected by the united states attorneys. a letter was introduced as testimony to his good character from general crozier, the then head of the ordnance department at washington. goltz made an unimpressive witness, and captain tauscher, protesting his innocence as a mere intermediary in the affair, was acquitted of the charge. of the smaller fry fritzen was arrested in los angeles in march, . he stated then to officers that he had made trips to cuba after the outbreak of war in , had traveled over southern united states in two attempts to reach mexico city, and had finally found employment on a ranch. he was sentenced to months in prison. tucker and busse were witnesses at the tauscher trial and were treated leniently. covani turned from his previous occupation as hunter to that of quarry, and was not apprehended. information gathered by the federal authorities and produced in court proved that captain von papen and reservist german army officers in the country planned a second mobilization of german reservists to attack canadian points. that the project was seriously considered for a time is evidenced by a note in the diary found on the commander of the _geier_, in honolulu, in which he said that the german consul in honolulu, george rodiek, had had orders from the san francisco consulate to circulate a report to that effect. hundreds of thousands of rifles and hundreds of rounds of ammunition that were to be available for german reservists were stored in new york, chicago and other cities on the border. many a german-american brewery concealed in the shadows of its storehouses crates of arms and ammunition. tauscher stored in west houston street, new york, on june , , , -calibre colt revolvers, colt automatic guns, , springfield rifles, , , revolver cartridges and , , rifle cartridges. when the new york police questioned him about this arsenal, he said he had purchased them in job lots, for speculation. as a matter of fact they had been intended for use in india, but had been diverted on the pacific coast and returned to new york. a bolder version of the plot of invasion came from max lynar louden, known to the federal authorities as "count louden." he was a man of nondescript reputation, who had secret communications with the germans in the early part of the war. he confessed that he was party to a scheme for the quick mobilization and equipment of a full army of german reservists. louden was consistently annoying to the secret service in that he refused openly to violate the neutrality laws, but the moment the authorities learned of the fact that he was supposed to have two or three wives they made an investigation which resulted in his imprisonment. his story, if not altogether reliable, is interesting. through german-american interests, the plans were made in , he said, and a fund of $ , , was subscribed to carry out the details. secret meetings were held in new york, buffalo, philadelphia, detroit, milwaukee, and other large cities, and at these meetings it was agreed that a force of , reservists was available to seize and hold the welland canal, strategic points and munitions centers. "we had it arranged," said louden, "to send our men from large cities following announcements of feasts and conventions, and i think we could have obtained enough to carry out our plans had it not been for my arrest on the charge of bigamy. the troops were to have been divided into four divisions, with six sections. the first two divisions were to have assembled at silvercreek, mich. the first was to have seized the welland canal. the second was to have taken wind mill point, ontario. the third was to go from wilson, n. y., to port hope. the fourth was to proceed from watertown, n. y., to kingston, ontario. the fifth was to assemble near detroit and land near windsor. the sixth section was to leave cornwall and take possession of ottawa. "it had been planned to buy or charter eighty-four excursion and small boats to use in getting into canada. all of the equipment was to have been put aboard the boats, and when quarters for , men had been found it would have been easy to continue the expedition. the german government was cognizant of the plan and maps, etc., were to have been furnished by the german government. a representative of the british ambassador offered $ , for our plans." but none of the first german-american expeditionary forces left for their destinations. their project was innocently foiled by amelia wendt, rose o'brien and nella florence allendorf. these ladies were louden's wives. chapter vi paul koenig justice and metzler--koenig's personality--von papen's checks--the "little black book"--telephone codes--shadowing--koenig's agents--his betrayal. in a narrative which attempts so far as possible to proceed chronologically, it becomes necessary at this point to introduce paul koenig. for, on september , , he sent an irishman, named edmund justice, who had been a dock watchman, and one frederick metzler to quebec for information of the number of canadian troops in training. on september koenig left new york and met metzler in portland, maine. he received his report, and on september was in burlington, vt., where he conferred with justice, and learned that the two spies had inspected the fortifications in quebec, and had visited the training camps long enough to estimate the number and condition of the men. (their information koenig reported at once to von papen, and it is possible that it dictated papen's recall of goltz from buffalo the next day.) who was paul koenig? his underlings knew him as "p. k.," and called him the "bull-headed westphalian" behind his back. he had a dozen aliases, among them wegenkamp, wagener, kelly, winter, perkins, stemler, rectorberg, boehm, kennedy, james, smith, murphy, and w. t. munday. he was a product of the "kaiser's own"--the hamburg-american line. he had been a detective in the service of the atlas line, a subsidiary of the hamburg-american, and for some years before the war was superintendent of the latter company's police. in that capacity he bossed a dozen men, watching the company's laborers and investigating any complaints made to the line. his work threw him into constant contact with sailors, tug-skippers, wharf-rats, longshoremen, and dive-keepers of the lowest type, and there was little of the criminal life of the waterfront that he had not seen. he had arms like an ape, and the bodily strength of one. his expression suggested craft, ferocity, and brutality. altogether his powerful frame and lurid vocabulary made him a figure to avoid or respect. waterfront society did both--and hated him as well. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ paul koenig, the hamburg-american employe, who supplied and directed agents of german violence in america] von papen saw in koenig's little police force the nucleus of just such an organization as he needed. the line put koenig at the attaché's disposal in august, , and straightway von papen connected certain channels of information with koenig's own system. he supplied reservists for special investigations and crimes, and presently koenig became in effect the foreman of a large part of germany's secret service in the east. as his activities broadened, he was called upon to execute commissions for bernstorff, albert, dr. dumba, the austro-hungarian ambassador, and dr. alexander von nuber, the austrian consul in new york, as well as for the attachés themselves. he acted as their guard on occasion, served as their confidential messenger, and made himself generally useful in investigation work. the guilt-stained check-book of the military attaché contained these entries: march , . paul koenig (secret service bill) $ . april , paul koenig (secret service bill) $ . may , paul koenig (secret service) $ . july , paul koenig (compensation for f. j. busse) $ . august , paul koenig ( bills secret service) $ . those entries represent only the payments made koenig by check for special work done for von papen. koenig received his wages from the line. when he performed work for any one else he rendered a special bill. this necessitated his itemizing his expenditures, and this germanly thorough and thoroughly german system of petty accounting enabled our secret service later to trace his activities with considerable success. koenig and von papen used to haggle over his bills--on one occasion the attaché felt he was being overcharged, and accordingly deducted a half-dollar from the total. "p. k." also had an incriminating book--a carefully prepared notebook of his spies and of persons in new york, boston and other cities who were useful in furnishing him information. in another book he kept a complete record of the purpose and cost of assignments on which he sent his men. he listed in its pages the names of several hundred persons--army reservists, german-americans and americans, clerks, scientists and city and federal employees--showing that his district was large and that his range for getting information and for supervising other pro-german propaganda was broad. for his own direct staff he worked out a system of numbers and initials to be used in communication. the numbers he changed at regular intervals and a system of progression was devised by which each agent would know when his number changed. he provided them with suitable aliases. these men had alternative codes for writing letters and for telephone communication to be changed automatically by certain fixed dates. always alert for spies upon himself, koenig suspected that his telephone wire was tapped and that his orders were being overheard. so he instructed his men in various code words. if he told an agent to meet him "at o'clock at south ferry" he meant: "meet me at o'clock at forty-second street and broadway." his suspicions were well-grounded, for his wire was tapped, and koenig led the men who were spying on him an unhappy dance. for example: he would receive a call on the telephone and would direct his agent, at the other end of the wire, to meet him in fifteen minutes at pabst's, harlem. it is practically impossible to make the journey from koenig's office in the hamburg-american building to th street in a quarter of an hour. after a time his watchers learned that "pabst's, harlem" meant borough hall, brooklyn. he never went out in the daytime without one or two of his agents trailing him to see whether he was being shadowed. he used to turn a corner suddenly and stand still so that an american detective following came unexpectedly face to face with him and betrayed his identity. koenig would laugh heartily and pass on. thus he came to know many agents of the department of justice and many new york detectives. when he started out at night he usually had three of his own men follow him and by a prearranged system of signals inform him if any strangers were following him. the task of keeping watch of koenig's movements required astute guessing and tireless work on the part of the new york police. so elusive did he become that it was necessary for captain tunney to evolve a new system of shadowing him in order to keep him in sight without betraying that he was under surveillance. one detective, accordingly, would be stationed several blocks away and would start out ahead of koenig. the "front shadow" was signaled by his confederates in the rear whenever koenig turned a corner, so that the man in front might dart down a cross-street and manoeuvre to keep ahead of him. if koenig boarded a street car the man ahead would hail the car several blocks beyond, thus avoiding suspicion. in more than one instance detectives in the rear, guessing that he was about to take a car, would board it several blocks before it got abreast of koenig. his alertness kept detectives barnitz, coy, terra, and corell on edge for months. it was impossible to overhear direct conversation between koenig and any man to whom he was giving instructions. some of his workers he never permitted to meet him at all, but when he kept a rendezvous it was in the open, in the parks in broad daylight, or in a moving-picture theatre, or in the pennsylvania station, or the grand central terminal. there he could make sure that nobody was eavesdropping. if he met an agent in the open for the first time he gave him some such command at this: "be at third avenue and fifty-ninth street at : to-morrow afternoon beside a public telephone booth there. when the telephone rings answer it." the man would obey. on the minute the telephone would ring and the man would lift the receiver. a strange voice told him to do certain things--either a definite assignment, or instructions to be at a similar place on the following day to receive a message. or he might be told to meet another man, who would give him money and further orders. the voice at the other end of the wire spoke from a public telephone booth and was thus reasonably sure that the wire was not tapped. and koenig trusted no man. he never sent an agent out on a job without detailing another man to shadow that man and report back to him in full the operations of the agent and of any persons whom he might deal with. he was brutally severe in his insistence that his men do exactly what he told them without using their own initiative. koenig had spies on every big steamship pier. he had eavesdroppers in hotels, and on busy telephone switchboards. he employed porters, window-cleaners, bank clerks, corporation employees and even a member of the police department. this last, listed in his book as "special agent a. s.," was otto f. mottola, a detective in the warrant squad. the notebook revealed mottola as "antonio marino," an alias later changed to antonio salvatore. evidence was produced at mottola's trial at police headquarters that koenig paid him for investigating a passenger who sailed on the _bergensfjord_; that he often called up mottola, asked questions, and received answers which koenig's stenographer took down in shorthand. through him koenig sought to keep closely informed of developments at police headquarters in the inquiry being made by the police into the activities of the germans. mottola was dismissed from the force because of false statements made to his superiors when they questioned him about koenig. koenig's very caution was the cause of his undoing. the detectives who shadowed him learned that he "never employed the same man more than once," which meant simply that he was careful to place no subordinate in a position where blackmail and exposure might be too easy. to this fact they added another trifling observation; they noticed that as time went on he was seen less in the company of one george fuchs, a relative with whom he had been intimate early in the war. they cultivated the young man's acquaintance to the extent that he finally burst out with a recitation of his grievances against koenig, and betrayed him to the authorities. "p. k." was defiant always. "they did get dr. albert's portfolio," he said one day, "but they won't get mine. i won't carry one." chapter vii false passports hans von wedell's bureau--the traffic in false passports--carl ruroede--methods of forgery--adams' coup--von wedell's letter to von bernstorff--stegler--lody--berlin counterfeits american passports--von breechow. throughout august, , it was comparatively easy for germans in america who wished to respond to the call of the fatherland to leave american shores. a number of circumstances tended swiftly to make it more hazardous. the british were in no mind to permit an influx of reservists to germany while they could blockade germany. the cordon tightened, and soon every merchant ship was stopped at sea by a british patrol and searched for german suspects. german spies here took refuge in the protection afforded by an american passport. false passports were issued by the state department in considerable quantities during the early weeks of war--issued unwittingly, of course, for the applicant in most cases underwent no more than the customary peace-time examination. we have already seen that von der goltz easily secured a passport. the details of his application were these: karl a. luederitz, the german consul at baltimore, detailed one of his men to supply goltz with a lawyer and an application blank (then known as form ). the lawyer was frederick f. schneider, of east german street, baltimore. on that application goltz swore that his name was bridgeman h. taylor, his birthplace san francisco, his citizenship american, his residence new york city, and his occupation that of export broker. charles tucker served as witness to these fantastic sentiments. two days later (august ) the state department issued passport number in the name of taylor, and william jennings bryan signed the precious document. it was not necessary at that time to state the countries which the applicant intended to visit. within a few weeks, however, that information was required on the passport. each additional precaution taken by the government placed a new obstacle in the way of unlimited supply of passports. the goltz method was easy enough, but it soon became impossible to employ it. the necessity for sending news through to berlin by courier was increasingly urgent and it devolved upon captain von papen to systematize the supply of passports. the military attaché in november selected lieutenant hans von wedell, who had already made a trip as courier to berlin for his friend, count von bernstorff. von wedell was married to a german baroness. he had been a newspaper reporter in new york, and later a lawyer. he opened an office in bridge street, new york, and began to send out emissaries to sailors on interned german liners, and to their friends in hoboken, directing them to apply for passports. he sent others to the haunts of tramps on the lower east side, to the mills hotel, and other gathering places of the down-and-outs, offering ten, fifteen or twenty dollars to men who would apply for and deliver passports. and he bought them! he spent much time at the deutscher verein, and at the elks' club in rd street where he often met his agents to give instructions and receive passports. his bills were paid by captain von papen, as revealed by the attaché's checks and check stubs; on november , , a payment in his favor of $ ; on december , $ more and then $ , the latter being for "journey money." von wedell's bills at the deutscher verein in november, , came to $ . , according to another counterfoil. the captain in the meantime employed frau von wedell as courier, sending her with messages to germany. on december , , he paid the baroness, according to his check-book, $ . [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ hans von wedell and his wife. he was an important member of the false-passport bureau and she a messenger from von papen to germany] the passports secured by von wedell, and by his successor, carl ruroede, sr., a clerk in oelrichs & co., whom he engaged, were supplied by the dozens to officers whom the general staff had ordered back to berlin. not only american passports, but mexican, swiss, swedish, norwegian and all south american varieties were seized eagerly by reservists bound for the front. germans and austrians, who had been captured in russia, sent to siberia as prisoners of war, escaped and making their way by caravan through china, had embarked on vessels bound for america. arriving in new york they shipped for neutral european countries. among them was an austrian officer, an expert aeroplane observer whose feet were frozen and amputated in siberia, but who escaped to this country. he was ordered home because of his extreme value in observation, and after his flight three-fourths of the way round the world, the british took him off a ship at falmouth to spend the remainder of the war in a prison camp. captain von papen used the bureau frequently for passports for spies whom he wished to send to england, france, italy or russia. anton kuepferle and von breechow were two such agents. both were captured in england with false passports in their possession. both confessed, and the former killed himself in brixton jail. von wedell and ruroede grew reckless and boastful. two hangers-on at the mills hotel called upon one of the writers of this volume one day and told him of von wedell's practices, related how they had blackmailed him out of $ , gave his private telephone numbers and set forth his haunts. when this and other information reached the department of justice, albert g. adams, a clever agent, insinuated himself into ruroede's confidence, and offered to secure passports for him for $ each. posing as a pro-german, he pried into the inner ring of the passport-buyers, and was informed by ruroede just how the stock of passports needed replenishing. though in the early days of the war it had not been necessary for the applicant to give more than a general description of himself, the cry of "german spies!" in the allied countries became so insistent that the government added the requirement of a photograph of the bearer. the germans, however, found it a simple matter to give a general description of a man's eyes, color of hair, and age to fit the person who was actually to use the document; then forwarded the picture of the applicant to be affixed. the applicant receiving the passport, would sell it at once. even though the official seal was stamped on the photograph the germans were not dismayed. adams rushed into ruroede's office one day waving a sheaf of five passports issued to him by the government. adams was ostensibly proud of his work, ruroede openly delighted. "i knew i could get these passports easily," he boasted to adams. "why, if lieutenant von wedell had kept on here he never could have done this. he always was getting into a muddle." "but how can you use these passports with these pictures on them?" asked the agent. "oh, that's easy," answered ruroede. "come in the back room. i'll show you." and ruroede, before the observant eyes of the department of justice, patted one of the passports with a damp cloth, then with adhesive paste fastened a photograph of another man over the original bearing the imprint of the united states seal. "we wet the photograph," said ruroede, "and then we affix the picture of the man who is to use it. the new photograph also is dampened, but when it is fastened to the passport there still remains a sort of vacuum in spots between the new picture and the old because of ridges made by the seal. so we turn the passport upside down, place it on a soft ground--say a silk handkerchief--and then we take a paper-cutter with a dull point, and just trace the letters on the seal. the result is that the new photograph dries exactly as if it had been stamped by uncle sam. you can't tell the difference." adams never knew until long afterward that when he met ruroede by appointment in bowling green, another german atop broadway was scrutinizing him through field-glasses, and examining every one who paused nearby, who might arouse suspicion of adams' ingenuous part in the transaction. through adams' efforts ruroede and four germans, one of them an officer in the german reserves, were arrested on january , on the scandinavian-american liner _bergensfjord_ outward bound to bergen, norway. they had passports issued through adams at ruroede's request under the american names of howard paul wright, herbert s. wilson, peter hanson and stanley f. martin. their real names were arthur sachse, who worked in pelham heights, n.y., and who was returning to become a lieutenant in the german army; walter miller, august r. meyer and herman wegener, who had come to new york from chile, on their way to the fatherland. on the day when ruroede, his assistant, and the four men for whom he obtained passports were arrested, joseph a. baker, assistant superintendent of the federal agents in new york, took possession of the office at bridge street. as he was sorting papers and making a general investigation, a german walked in bearing a card of introduction from von papen, introducing himself as wolfram von knorr, a german officer who up to the outbreak of the war had been naval attaché in tokio. the officer desired a passport. baker, after a conversation in which von knorr revealed von papen's connection with the passport bureau, told him to return the next day. when the german read the next morning's newspapers he changed his lodging-place and his name. von wedell himself was a passenger on the _bergensfjord_, but when he was lined up with the other passengers, the federal agents, who did not have a description of him, missed him and left the vessel. he was later (january ) taken off the ship by the british, however, and transferred to another vessel for removal to a prison camp. she struck a german mine and sank, and von wedell is supposed to have drowned. a few days before he sailed, he wrote a letter to von bernstorff which fixes beyond question the responsibility for his false passport activities. the letter, dated from nyack, where he was hiding, on december , , follows: "his excellency the imperial german ambassador, count von bernstorff, washington, d. c. your excellency: allow me most obediently to put before you the following facts: it seems that an attempt has been made to produce the impression upon you that i prematurely abandoned my post, in new york. that is not true. "i--my work was done. at my departure i left the service, well organized and worked out to its minutest details, in the hands of my successor, mr. carl ruroede, picked out by myself, and, despite many warnings, still tarried for several days in new york in order to give him the necessary final directions and in order to hold in check the blackmailers thrown on my hands by the german officers until after the passage of my travelers through gibraltar; in which i succeeded. mr. ruroede will testify to you that without my suitable preliminary labors, in which i left no conceivable means untried and in which i took not the slightest consideration of my personal weal or woe, it would be impossible for him, as well as for mr. von papen, to forward officers and 'aspirants' in any number whatever, to europe. this merit i lay claim to and the occurrences of the last days have unfortunately compelled me, out of sheer self-respect, to emphasize this to your excellency. "ii--the motives which induced me to leave new york and which, to my astonishment, were not communicated to you, are the following: " . i knew that the state department had, for three weeks, withheld a passport application forged by me. why? " . ten days before my departure i learnt from a telegram sent me by mr. von papen, which stirred me up very much, and further through the omission of a cable, that dr. stark had fallen into the hands of the english. that gentleman's forged papers were liable to come back any day and could, owing chiefly to his lack of caution, easily be traced back to me. " . officers and aspirants of the class which i had to forward over, namely the people, saddled me with a lot of criminals and blackmailers, whose eventual revelations were liable to bring about any day the explosion of the bomb. " . mr. von papen had repeatedly urgently ordered me to hide myself. " . mr. igel had told me i was taking the matter altogether too lightly and ought to--for god's sake--disappear. " . my counsel ... had advised me to hastily quit new york, inasmuch as a local detective agency was ordered to go after the passport forgeries. " . it had become clear to me that eventual arrest might yet injure the worthy undertaking and that my disappearance would probably put a stop to all investigation in this direction. "how urgent it was for me to go away is shown by the fact that, two days after my departure, detectives, who had followed up my telephone calls, hunted up my wife's harmless and unsuspecting cousin in brooklyn, and subjected her to an interrogatory. "mr. von papen and mr. albert have told my wife that i forced myself forward to do this work. that is not true. when i, in berlin, for the first time heard of this commission, i objected to going and represented to the gentleman that my entire livelihood which i had created for myself in america by six years of labor was at stake therein. i have no other means, and although mr. albert told my wife my practice was not worth talking about, it sufficed, nevertheless, to decently support myself and wife and to build my future on. i have finally, at the suasion of count wedell, undertaken it, ready to sacrifice my future and that of my wife. i have, in order to reach my goal, despite infinite difficulties, destroyed everything that i built up here for myself and my wife. i have perhaps sometimes been awkward, but always full of good will, and i now travel back to germany with the consciousness of having done my duty as well as i understood it, and of having accomplished my task. "with expressions of the most exquisite consideration, i am, your excellency, "very respectfully, "(signed) hans adam von wedell." ruroede was sentenced to three years in atlanta prison. the four reservists, pleading guilty, protested they had taken the passports out of patriotism and were fined $ each. the arrest of ruroede exposed the new york bureau, and made it necessary for the germans to shift their base of operations, but it did not put an end to the fraudulent passport conspiracies. captain boy-ed assumed the burden, and hired men to secure passports for him. one of these men was richard peter stegler, a prussian, years old, who had served in the german navy and afterward came to this country to start on his life work. before the war he had applied for his first citizenship papers but his name had not been removed from the german naval reserve list. "after the war started," stegler said, "i received orders to return home. i was told that everything was in readiness for me. i was assigned to the naval station at cuxhaven. my uniform, my cap, my boots and my locker would be all set aside for me, and i was told just where to go and what to do. but i could not get back at that time and i kept on with my work." he became instead a member of the german secret service in new york. "there is not a ship that leaves the harbor, not a cargo that is loaded or unloaded, but that some member of this secret organization watches and reports every detail," he said. "all this information is transmitted in code to the german government." in january, , if not earlier, stegler was sent by the german consulate to boy-ed's office, where he received instructions to get a passport and make arrangements to go to england as a spy. boy-ed paid him $ , which the attaché admitted. stegler immediately got in touch with gustave cook and richard madden, of hoboken, and made use of madden's birth certificate and citizenship in obtaining a passport from the american government. stegler paid $ for the document. stegler pleaded guilty to the charge and served days in jail; madden and cook were convicted of conspiracy in connection with the project, and were sentenced to months' imprisonment. "i was told to make the voyage to england on the _lusitania_," continued stegler. "my instructions were as follows: 'stop at liverpool, examine the mersey river, obtain the names, exact locations and all possible information concerning warships around liverpool, ascertain the amount of munitions of war being unloaded on the liverpool docks from the united states, ascertain their ultimate destination, and obtain a detailed list of all the ships in the harbor.' "i was to make constant, though guarded inquiries, of the location of the dreadnought squadron which the germans in new york understand was anchored somewhere near st. george's channel. i was to appear as an american citizen soliciting trade. captain boy-ed advised me to get letters of introduction to business firms. he made arrangements so that i received such letters and in one letter were enclosed some rare stamps which were to be a proof to certain persons in england that i was working for the germans. "after having studied at liverpool i was to go to london and make an investigation of the thames and its shipping. from there i was to proceed to holland and work my way to the german border. while my passport did not include germany, i was to give the captain of the nearest regiment a secret number which would indicate to him that i was a reservist on spy duty. by that means i was to hurry to eisendal, head of the secret service in berlin." stegler did not make the trip because his wife learned of the enterprise and begged him not to go. he too had run afoul of the vigilant adams, and was placed under arrest in february, , shortly after he decided to stay at home. in his possession were all the letters and telegrams exchanged between him and boy-ed, and one telegram from "winkler," captain boy-ed's servant. stegler also said that he had been told by dr. karl a. fuehr, one of dr. albert's assistants, that boy-ed previously had sent to england karl hans lody, the german who in november, , was put to death as a spy in the tower of london. lody had been in the navy, had served on the kaiser's yacht and then had come to this country and worked as an agent for the hamburg-american line, going from one city to another. shortly after the war started lody had gone on the mission of espionage which cost him his life. captain boy-ed authorized the commander of the german cruiser _geier_, interned in honolulu, to get his men back to germany as best he could, by providing them with false passports. still another of boy-ed's protégés was a naval reservist, august meier, who shipped as a hand on the freighter _evelyn_ with a cargo of horses for bermuda. on the voyage practically all of the horses were poisoned. meier, however, was arrested by the federal authorities on the charge of using the name of a dead man in order to get an american passport. in supplying passports and in handling spies, captain boy-ed was more subtle than his colleague, von papen. nevertheless the government officials succeeded in getting a clear outline of his activities. the exposure of boy-ed's connection with stegler made it necessary for the german government to change its system once more. the wilhelmstrasse had a bureau of its own. reservists from america reported in berlin for duty in belgium and france, and their passports ceased to be useful, to them. the intelligence department commandeered the documents for agents whom they wished to send back to america. tiny flakes of paper were torn from the body of the passport and from the seal, in order that counterfeiters might match them up. on january , , an american named reginald rowland obtained a passport from the state department for safe-conduct on a business trip to germany. while it was being examined at the frontier every detail of the document was closely noted by the germans. some months later captain schnitzer, chief of the german secret service in antwerp, had occasion to send a spy to england. he chose von breechow, a german whom von papen had forwarded from new york, and who had his first naturalization papers from the united states. to breechow he gave a facsimile of rowland's passport identical with the original in every superficial respect except that the spy's photograph had been substituted for the original, and the age of the bearer set down as --ten years older than rowland. von breechow passed the english officials at rotterdam and at tilbury. he soon fell under suspicion, however, and his passport was taken away. when the british learned that the real rowland was at home in new jersey, and in possession of his own passport, they sent for it, and compared the two. breechow's revealed a false watermark, stamped on in clear grease, which made the paper translucent, but which was soluble in benzine. the stamp, ordinarily used to countersign both the photograph and the paper in a certain way, had been applied in a different position. with those exceptions, and the suspicious teutonic twist to a "d" in the word "dark," the counterfeit was regular. the rosenthal case was the first to bring to light the false passport activities in berlin. rosenthal, posing as an agent for gas mantles, traveled in england successfully as a spy under an emergency passport issued by the american embassy in berlin. captain prieger, the chief of a section in the intelligence department of the general staff, asked rosenthal to make a second trip. the spy demurred, doubting whether his passport might be accepted a second time. the captain turned to a safe, extracted a handful of false american passports, and said: "i can fit you out with a passport in any name you wish." rosenthal decided to employ his own. he was arrested and imprisoned in england. as the state department increased its vigilance the evil began to expire. it was further stifled by concerted multiplication by the allies of the examinations which the stranger had to undergo. but during its course it made personal communication between berlin and lower broadway almost casual. chapter viii incendiarism increased munitions production--the opening explosions--orders from berlin--von papen and seattle--july, --the van koolbergen affair--the autumn of --the pinole explosion. a bomb is an easy object to manufacture. take a section of lead pipe from six to ten inches long, and solder into it a partition of thin metal, which divides the tube into two compartments. place a high explosive in one compartment and seal it carefully (the entire operation requires a gentle touch) and in the other end pour a strong acid; cap it, and seal it. if you have chosen the proper metal for the partition, and acid of a strength to eat slowly through it to the explosive, you have produced a bomb of a type which german destroying agents were fond of using in america from the earliest days of their operation. when the first panic of war had passed, the allied nations took account of stock and sent their purchasing agents to america for war materials. manufacturers of explosives set to work at once to fill contracts of unheard-of size. they built new factories almost overnight, hired men broadcast, and sacrificed every other consideration to that of swift and voluminous output. accidents were inevitable. probably we shall never know what catastrophes were actually wrought by german sympathizers, for the very nature of the processes and the complete ruin which followed an explosion guarded the secret of guilt. no doubt carelessness was largely to blame for the earlier explosions, but instead of diminishing as the new hands became more skillful, and as greater vigilance was employed everywhere, the number of disasters increased. the word "disaster" is used advisedly. powder, guncotton, trinitrotoluol (or tnt, as it is better known), benzol (one of the chief substances used in the manufacture of tnt) and dynamite were being produced in great volume for the allies in american plants within a comparatively short time--all powerful explosives even in minute quantity. at sea the german navy was losing control daily. it therefore behooved the german forces in america to stop the production of munitions at its source. it may be well, for the force which such presentation carries, to recount very briefly the major accidents which occurred in america in the first few months after august, . on august one powder mill of the du pont powder company (strictly speaking the e. i. du pont de nemours company) at pompton lakes, new jersey, blew up. in september a guncotton explosion in the wright chemical works caused the death of three people, and a large property damage. in october the factory of the pain fireworks display company was destroyed, and several people were killed. in the same month the fireworks factory of detwiller and street in jersey city suffered an explosion and the loss of four lives. these explosions were the opening guns. throughout august and september most of these accidents may be attributed to the inexperience and confusion which followed greatly increased production in the powder mills. but a circular dated november , issued by german naval headquarters to all naval agents throughout the world, ordered mobilized all "agents who are overseas and all destroying agents in ports where vessels carrying war material are loaded in england, france, canada, the united states and russia." followed these orders: "it is indispensable by the intermediary of the third person having no relation with the official representatives of germany to recruit progressively agents to organize explosions on ships sailing to enemy countries in order to cause delays and confusion in the loading, the departure and the unloading of these ships. with this end in view we particularly recommend to your attention the deckhands, among whom are to be found a great many anarchists and escaped criminals. the necessary sums for buying and hiring persons charged with executing the projects will be put at your disposal on your demand." equally incriminating proof that the "destroying agents" were active in and about the factories lies in a circular intercepted by the french secret service in stockholm, in a letter addressed by one dr. klasse in germany to the pan-german league in sweden, in which he said: "inclosed is the circular of november , , for information and execution upon united states territory. we draw your attention to the possibility of recruiting destroying agents among the anarchist labor organization." this circular was signed by dr. fischer, councillor general of the german army. in the first six months of the du pont factories at haskell, n. j., carney's point, n. j., wayne, pa., and wilmington, del., experienced explosions and fires; a chemical explosion occurred in a factory in east th street, new york; the anderson chemical company, at wallington, n. j., was rocked on may by an explosion of guncotton which cost three lives; five more lives were flashed out in a similar accident in the equitable powder plant at alton, ill. on new year's day, the buckthorne plant of the john a. roebling company, manufacturers of shell materials, at trenton, was completely destroyed by fire, the property loss estimated at $ , , . and on june , the Ætna powder plant at pittsburgh suffered a chemical explosion which killed one man and injured ten others. most of these "accidents" had taken place near the atlantic seaboard. yet germany was active in the far west. on may a barge laden with a large cargo of dynamite lay in the harbor of seattle, washington. the dynamite was consigned to russia and was about to be transferred to a steamer, when it exploded with a shock of earthquake violence felt many miles inland, and comparable to the explosion in the harbor of halifax in december, . two counterfoils in von papen's check-book cast some light on the activities of the consulate in seattle, the first dated february , , the amount $ , , the payee "german consulate, seattle," the penned notation. "angelegenheit" (affair) preceded by a mysterious "c"; the second dated may , , for $ , payable to one "schulenberg"[ ] through the same consulate. the month of july was a holocaust. a tank of phenol exploded in new york, the benzol plant of the semet solvay company was destroyed at solvay, n. y.; on the th serious explosions occurred at the du pont plant at pompton lakes and at the philadelphia benzol plant of harrison brothers (the latter causing $ , damage); on the th five employees were killed in an explosion and fire at the Ætna plant at sinnemahoning, pa., three days later there was another at the du pont plant in wilmington; on the th a munitions train on the pennsylvania line was wrecked at metuchen, n. j.; on the th the du pont works at wilmington suffered again; and the month came to a fitting close with the destruction of a glaze mill in the american powder company at acton, mass., on the th. (the british army in mesopotamia had just entered kut-el-amara at this time, and far to the northward germany was prosecuting a successful campaign to force a russian retirement from poland.) each incident raised havoc in its immediate vicinity. each represents a carefully worked-out plan involving a group of destroying agents. there is not space here to describe the plots in detail, nor to picture the horror of their results. but the affidavit of johannes hendrikus van koolbergen, dated san francisco, august , , may serve to show typical methods of operation, as well as to provide a story more than usually melodramatic. van koolbergen was a hollander by birth, and a british subject by naturalization. in april, , he met in the heidelberg café, in san francisco, a man named wilhelm von brincken, who lived at piccadilly apartments, and who asked van koolbergen to call on him there. the latter, however, was leaving for canada, and it was not until some five weeks later that he returned and found that in his absence von brincken had twice telephoned him to pursue the acquaintance. van koolbergen called. von brincken explained that he was a german army officer, on secret service, and employed directly by franz bopp, the german consul in san francisco. his visitor's identity and personality was apparently well known to him, for he offered van koolbergen $ , for the use of his passport into canada, "to visit a friend, to assist him in some business matters." van koolbergen refused to rent his passport, but volunteered to go himself on any mission. this offer was discussed at a later meeting at the consulate with herr bopp, and accepted, after, as koolbergen said, "i became suspicious, and upon different questions being asked me ... i became very pro-german in the expression of my sentiments." he was shown into an adjoining office, and von brincken popped in, and "asked me if i would do something for him in canada ... and i answered: 'sure, i will do something, even blow up bridges, if there is any money in it.' (this struck my mind because of what i had read of what had been done in canada of late--something about a bridge being blown up--) and he said: 'if that is so, you can make good money.'" von brincken made an appointment with his newly engaged destroying agent for the following day. on the window-sill of piccadilly apartments sat a flower pot with a tri-colored band around its rim. if the red was turned outward towards van koolbergen as he came along the street, he was to come right upstairs. if he saw the blue, he was to loiter discreetly about until the red was turned; if the white area showed, he was to return another day. the red invitation signaled him to come up, and the two bargained for some time over van koolbergen's canadian mission, without coming to an understanding. once safely out of von brincken's sight, the "destroying agent" pattered to the british consulate and betrayed to carnegie ross, the consul, what was afoot. ross urged him to advise canada at once, so van koolbergen retold his story in a letter to wallace orchard, in the freight department of the canadian pacific railway at vancouver, b. c. orchard telegraphed back demanding van koolbergen's presence at once, and furnished money and transportation. meanwhile the latter had pretended to accept von brincken's commission to go to canada and blow up a military train, bridge, or tunnel on the canadian pacific line between revelstoke and vancouver, for which he was to receive a fee of $ , . the german exhibited complete maps of the railroad, told when a dynamite train might be expected to pass over that section of the road, and outlined to van koolbergen just where and when he could procure dynamite for the job. so on a sunday morning in early may van koolbergen arrived in vancouver, and lost no time in getting in touch with orchard and the british secret service, with whom he framed the following plan: van koolbergen was to send a letter to von brincken warning him that something would happen in a day or two. the vancouver newspapers would then carry a prepared story to the effect that a tunnel had caved in in the selkirk mountains, whereupon van koolbergen was to collect for his services, and to secure incriminating evidence in writing from von brincken if possible. the plot worked well. the news story appeared, and cast a mysterious air over the accident. van koolbergen at once wrote a postcard to von brincken: "on the front page of vancouver papers of (date) news appears of a flood in japan. our system may be in trouble, so wire here at the elysium hotel." a few days later van koolbergen returned to san francisco and met von brincken, who told him that he had replied to the postcard by telegram: "would like to send some flowers to your wife but do not know her address," which meant simply that he had wished to communicate with van koolbergen through the latter's wife. (these messages, by the way, were despatched from oakland by charles c. crowley, who will appear again.) and von brincken paid van koolbergen $ in bills, and asked him to come to the consulate for the balance of his fee. franz bopp was skeptical. for some reason he mistrusted van koolbergen. he produced a map of british columbia and asked him to describe what he had accomplished. van koolbergen, confused for a moment, suggested that he would be unwise to go into detail before three witnesses (bopp, von brincken, and von schack, the vice-consul). bopp rose indignantly and said that his secret was safe with three who had been sworn to serve the vaterland. so van koolbergen invented and related the story of the dynamiting that never was, supporting it with copies of the vancouver newspapers. bopp wanted more proof; at van koolbergen's suggestion, he wrote one van roggenen, the dutch vice-consul at vancouver, asking him to "inquire of the general superintendent of the canadian pacific railway company why a car of freight which i expected from the east had not arrived yet, and to kindly wire me at my expense." van roggenen happened to be a friend of van koolbergen's, and of course any inquiry made of the railroad for van koolbergen's car of freight would have been tactfully construed and properly answered. but to make assurance doubly sure, van koolbergen wired orchard in vancouver to send him the following telegram: "superintendent refuses information. found out however that freight has been delayed eleven days on account of accident. signed v. r." armed with this fictitious reply, which orchard soon sent him, van koolbergen called at the consulate, and was paid $ more in cash. in order to get as much money as possible as soon as possible, the "destroying agent" agreed to cut his price from $ , to $ , , and was promised the money the next day. the next day came, but no money. van koolbergen sent a sharp note to the consul, suggesting blackmail, and the german empire in san francisco capitulated; von brincken met van koolbergen at the palace hotel and paid him $ , , (of which he extracted $ as commission!). he made koolbergen sign a receipt for $ , as he said a payment of $ , would look bad on the books, was much too high--even seven hundred was high, but could be justified if any one higher up complained. "and," concluded the thrifty van koolbergen in his affidavit written august , "i have some of the greenbacks given me by von brincken now in my possession." the san franciscan participants in the episode were finally brought to justice. bopp, baron eckhardt, von schack, lieutenant von brincken, crowley, and mrs. margaret cornell, crowley's secretary, were indicted, tried, and convicted. the men received sentences of two years and fines of $ , each; mrs. cornell was sentenced to a year and a day. the three members of the consulate, thanks to their other activities, involved themselves in a series of charges for which the maximum punishment was something more than the average man's lifetime in prison. certain of their adventures will appear in other phases of german activity to be discussed. they may be dismissed here, however, with the statement that the california consulate also planned the destruction of munitions plants at Ætna, indiana, and at ishpeming, michigan. the state department released on october , , a telegram from the foreign office in berlin, addressed to count von bernstorff, which established beyond question the chief's familiarity with these operations, and more especially the continued desire of the foreign office to interrupt transcontinental shipping in canada. it is dated january , . its text follows: "secret. general staff desires energetic action in regard to proposed destruction of the canadian pacific railroad at several points, with a view to complete and protracted interruption of traffic. captain boehm, who is known on your side, and is shortly returning, has been given instructions. inform the military attaché and provide the necessary funds. "zimmermann." the factory explosions continued. the midvale steel company suffered incendiary fires; a providence warehouse containing a consignment of cotton for russia was burned; there were fires in the shell plant of the brill car company, in the southwark machinery company, and in the shell department of the diamond forge and steel company. for august the ghastly recitation proceeds somewhat as follows: bethlehem steel company, powder flash, ten killed; league island navy yard, philadelphia, fire on battleship _alabama_; newport news navy yard, three fires in three weeks. in september an explosion in the aeroplane factory of the curtiss plant at depew, new york, a german suspected; explosions in the shell factory of the national cable and conduit company at hastings, new york; an explosion of benzol and wax in the plant of smith and lenhart, new york, in which two people were seriously injured; an explosion in a fireworks factory at north bergen, n. j., in which two people were killed; an explosion which cost two lives in the shell factory of the westinghouse electric company at pittsburgh. scarcely a week went by during the autumn without an explosion and fire which wiped out from one to a dozen lives, and from one hundred thousand to a million dollars. munitions plants were blown to atoms in a moment, and hardly before the charred ground had cooled, were being rebuilt, for the guns in france were hungry. out of the mass of munitions accidents in the year stands sharp and clear the bethlehem steel fire of november --of which all germany had had warning, and on which the german press was forbidden to comment--when big guns were destroyed. the du pont and Ætna organizations suffered again and again; a chemical plant had two fires which cost three-quarters of a million dollars; two explosions in the tennessee coal and iron works at birmingham, alabama, did considerable property damage, and assisted germany further by frightening labor away from work. suspects were arrested here and there, and always their trails led back to german or austrian nationality or sympathy. their chiefs were elusive. captain von papen sauntered out of the ritz-carlton into madison avenue, new york, one afternoon. he idled down to forty-second street, and paused, as if undecided where to promenade. he turned east, walked a block, and turned again down the ramp into the grand central station. quickening his pace--he had only a minute more--he crossed the great waiting-room, presented a ticket at the train gate, and a moment later was in the twentieth century limited, the last passenger aboard. he was seen next day in chicago. and for a month thereafter he was completely lost to the authorities, while, as they found out later, he made a grand tour of the country, going first to yellowstone park, then down the pacific coast to mexico, where he joined boy-ed, and finally returning to new york through san francisco. he had ample opportunity to confer with his consular deputies, and his destroying agents. in august a train loaded with , pounds of dynamite from the du pont works at pinole, california, was destroyed; in the evidence against von papen is this letter concerning the price to be paid for the pinole job: "dear s.: your last letter with clipping today, and note what you have to say. i have taken it up with them and 'b'" (who was franz bopp) "is awaiting decision of 'p'" (who was von papen) "in new york, so cannot advise you yet, and will do so as soon as i get word from you. you might size up the situation in the meantime." glancing back over the record of --which was hardly mitigated in the succeeding years of war--one is inclined to marvel at the hardy perennial pose of the deported attaché, who said as he left the united states: "i leave my post without any feeling of bitterness, because i know that when history is once written, it will establish our clean record despite all the misrepresentations and calumnies spread broadcast at present." footnote: [ ] franz schulenberg was a deserter from the german army who advertised in the spokane newspapers in february, , for land on which to colonize a number of spanish families. these families turned out to be hindus, whom he proposed to employ in obtaining information of canadian shipping, to be relayed by secret wireless to german raiders in the pacific. schulenberg was captured on december , , in an automobile on the road from santa cruz to san francisco, two days after he had left a woman spy who was associated with von papen's office, and who directed schulenberg's movements in the united states. he admitted having bought, in , a ton of dynamite, fifty maxim silencers, fifty rifles, and a quantity of fuse for shipment to hindus near the canadian border, between victoria and vancouver. chapter ix more bomb plots kaltschmidt and the windsor explosions--the port huron tunnel--werner horn--explosions embarrass the embassy--black tom--the second welland affair--harry newton--the damage done in three years--waiter spies. in the check-book of the military attaché was a counterfoil betraying a payment of $ , made on march , , to "w. von igel (for a. kaltschmidt, detroit)." that stub was part of a bomb plot. a young german named charles francis respa was employed in by albert carl kaltschmidt in a detroit machine shop. seven years later kaltschmidt had occasion to hire respa again. to a group which included respa, his brother-in-law carl schmidt, gus stevens and kaltschmidt's own brother-in-law, fritz neef, he outlined a plan for destroying factories in canada. neef was the detroit agent for the eisemann magneto, and had a machine shop of his own. "we are not citizens of this country," kaltschmidt reiterated to his accomplices. "it is our duty to stand by the fatherland. the americans would throw us out of work after war started." (the americans, on the contrary, gave the ringleaders of the conspiracy plenty of hard labor after the war started.) to seal the bargain kaltschmidt paid the men a retainer, and sent stevens and respa to winnipeg to see whether it might not be feasible to blow up the railroad bridge there. respa reported back. his next assignment was to go to port huron and determine whether enough dynamite might be attached to the rear of a passenger train bound through the international tunnel under the st. clair river to destroy the tube. respa came to the conclusion that it was not practicable, for the authorities were taking precautions against just such an operation. respa and stevens were then despatched to duluth, where they met schmidt and a fourth member of the group, each carrying a suitcase containing numerous sticks of dynamite, and the quartette returned with its explosives to detroit. kaltschmidt then hired him for $ a week. respa had left germany before his term of military service came due; kaltschmidt used this information as a club over his head, for he knew the young man could not return to the fatherland. on june kaltschmidt called respa to his office in the kresge building, and showed him two elaborate time-clock devices which could be so set as to fire bombs at any specified hour, and respa, at kaltschmidt's command, carried the clocks across the detroit river to windsor, ontario, late that afternoon. his sister, mrs. schmidt, went with him, and together they wandered about until the hour when they knew that william lefler, the night watchman of the peabody overall company factory in walkerville, would go on duty. under cover of darkness, the brother and sister met lefler, who gave respa two suitcases full of dynamite which kaltschmidt had smuggled piecemeal into canada under the front seat of his automobile. respa attached the clocks to the charges, set one of the infernal machines near the factory, and planted the other in the rear of the windsor armory, in which canadian troops were asleep, and near which was a catholic girls' school. then he and mrs. schmidt scurried back to the ferry and took the last boat to detroit. at three o'clock in the morning they heard a muffled roar from the canadian side; the factory bomb had gone off. the other charge failed to explode: respa said he deliberately set the percussion cap at the wrong angle, because he knew that soldiers were sleeping in the armory, and he had no stomach for murder. one of the gang was presently arrested, and respa was spirited away to the retirement of a mechanic's job in a west hoboken garage. but he grew restless, and spent his money, and kaltschmidt refused him more. he pawned his watch and his ring, bought a ticket to detroit, and presented himself before kaltschmidt with a demand for money, in default of which respa proposed to "squeal." he was immediately returned to the payroll. the canadian provincial detectives had begun to search for the night watchman, lefler. they found him, and from him they extracted a full confession. respa's arrest was easy, and the united states willingly returned him, although kaltschmidt did attempt to establish a false alibi for his underling. respa was sentenced to life imprisonment, lefler to ten years, for the destruction of the factory. the dragnet closed in on kaltschmidt. william m. jarosch, a german-born, who later enlisted in the united states army, had been introduced to kaltschmidt in chicago in by a former german consul there, gustav jacobsen. jacobsen recruited two other men, and kaltschmidt took the three to detroit. jarosch was directed to secure employment at the plant of the detroit screw works, but he was rejected, so kaltschmidt told him to watch the plant for a good opportunity to set a bomb there. in the course of his sojourn in detroit he went to the respa home in the placid little village of romeo and returned with a generous quantity of dynamite. this he delivered to neef, and in a conference at the magneto shop kaltschmidt explained the operation of the time-clock, and ordered jarosch to set the device at the detroit screw factory that night. he and his chicago confederates set out for the scene, but there were guards about, and jarosch had no desire for arrest, so he took the bomb to his hotel room, disengaged the trigger, and calmly went to sleep. next morning kaltschmidt reproached him, and jarosch resigned, to return months later to show federal officers where he had buried some pounds of dynamite, nitroglycerine, and a bomb. kaltschmidt also conspired to destroy the port huron tunnel. for this enterprise he contrived a car which he proposed to load with dynamite set to explode with a time fuse. fritz neef, the stuttgart graduate and expert mechanical engineer, was his able assistant and adviser in this project. the car was of standard railway gauge. it was to be set on the grand trunk tracks at the mouth of the port huron end of the tunnel and released, to roll down into the darkness under the river. at the low point in the tunnel's curve the charge would explode, bursting the walls of the tube, and completely interrupting the heavy international freight traffic at that point. the "devil car" never was released. kaltschmidt was arrested, and finally, in december, , tried and convicted on three counts. he was given the maximum sentence, of four years' imprisonment and $ , fine. his sister, mrs. neef, who had been an active intermediary, was sentenced to three years' imprisonment and was fined $ , ; carl schmidt and his wife were each condemned to two years in prison, and assessed a fine of $ , each, and only old franz respa, the father of the dynamiter, was acquitted. the activities of this group received tangible approval from the german embassy. even before von papen drew the check on march for kaltschmidt, the attaché's secretary, von igel, had transferred $ , to the detroit german from the banking firm of knauth, nachod and kuhne (january ). on october , long after the walkerville explosion, but while the port huron venture was still a possibility, the chase national bank of new york transferred to knauth, nachod and kuhne $ , from the joint account maintained there by count von bernstorff and dr. albert, and next day the money was placed to kaltschmidt's credit. the port huron tunnel was the object of german attentions from the active san francisco consulate. crowley, who had been von brincken's messenger in the van koolbergen affair, and one louis j. smith, were hired by herr bopp to go east on a destroying mission. they ran out of money in new york, and called at the new york consulate for assistance. they were told that the new york consulate had nothing to do with pacific coast activities, so they wired von schack for funds. he replied, chiding them for not having called on von papen. late in june smith left new york and joined crowley at the normandy hotel in detroit. "then we went to port huron," he said, "where we planned to dynamite a railroad tunnel and a horse train. we didn't do it, though. "then we went to toronto, and crowley told me to plant a bomb under a horse train in the west toronto yards. but i saw a policeman, and i got out quick. then we took some nitroglycerine, cotton, sawdust, and a tin pan and some other things to grosse isle, ontario, and went out back of a cemetery and made some bombs. "well, we got back to san francisco late in july, and crowley and i cooked up an expense account of $ , . , and took it up to the consulate. von schack locked the door behind us, and then he said: 'i don't want any statement. tell me how much you want?' we told him, and he said he would get it the following day. then all of a sudden he asked: 'how do i know you fellows did any jobs in canada?' "'wire the mayor of toronto and ask him!' crowley answered." on one occasion at least the germans respected american property, for the protection america might afford. werner horn, a former lieutenant in the landwehr, was in guatemala when the war broke out. he made an attempt to return to his command, but got no farther than new york, where he placed himself at the disposal of captain von papen. on january the military attaché paid him $ . on february horn exploded a charge of dynamite on the canadian end of the international bridge at vanceboro, maine, spanning the st. croix river to new brunswick. the explosion caused a slight damage to the canadian half of the bridge. a few hours later horn was arrested in vanceboro, and admitted the crime. when the canadian authorities applied for his extradition, the warrant which judge hale issued was not executed, the united states marshal for maine having received word from washington that a well-preserved treaty between great britain and the united states would cover just such a case, and horn was indicted on a charge of having transported explosives from new york city to vanceboro. his attorneys naïvely attempted to secure his liberty by casting a protective mantle of international law about his shoulders: werner horn, they said, was a first lieutenant of the west-prussian pioneer battalion number , and as such was sworn by his royal majesty of prussia to " ... discharge the obligations of his office in a becoming manner, ... execute diligently and loyally whatever is made his duty to do and carry out, and whatever is commanded him, by day and by night, on land and on sea, and ... conduct himself bravely and irreproachably in all wars and military events that may occur...." yet he was tried, and that without much delay, and convicted, and sentenced to imprisonment. although the destruction of railways was an attractive means of stopping the progress of munitions to the seaboard, and although it was a recognized practice during , it made the embassy at washington uneasy. bernstorff protested to the foreign office in berlin that if a german agent should be caught in the act of dynamiting a railroad it would be exceedingly embarrassing for him, and increase the difficulties of his already ticklish rôle of apologist and explainer-extraordinary. the foreign office accordingly sent a telegram to von papen: "january --for military attaché.... railway embankments and bridges must not be touched. embassy must in no circumstances be compromised." (signed) "representative of general staff." and thereafter american railway bridges and embankments were safe, though their owners may not have been aware of the fact at the time. it is no mere metaphor to say that during and the smoke of german explosions in factories in the united states was spreading across the sun, casting the deepening shadow of war over america. there was dynamite found in the coal tender of a munitions train on the baltimore and ohio railroad at callery junction, pa., on december , , the day on which enormous quantities of wheat were destroyed by fire in grain elevators at erie. a few hours earlier a two-million-dollar explosion had occurred at the hopewell plant of the du pont works. shortly before christmas a ton and a half of nitroglycerine exploded at fayville, illinois. during there were a dozen major explosions in the du pont properties alone and literally dozens of lives were lost. two arms plants at bridgeport, conn., were blown up. an explosion in may wiped out a large chemical plant in cadillac, michigan. a munitions works of the bethlehem steel company at newcastle, pa., was destroyed. the climax in violence came, however, in the sultry night of august - . shortly after midnight the rocky island of manhattan trembled, and the roar of a prodigious blast burst over the harbor of new york. two million pounds of munitions were being transported in freight trains and on barges near the island of black tom, a few hundred yards from the bartholdi statue of liberty. some one, somehow, supplied the spark. the loss of life was inconsiderable, for that neighborhood was not inhabited, but the confusion was complete. heavy windows in the canyons of lower manhattan were shivered, and for a few moments many of the streets rained broken glass. shell-laden barges near the original explosion set up a scattering fire which continued for some time, most of the projectiles losing their power through lack of a substantial breech-block. but the immigration station on ellis island was in panic, and its position became more unpleasant as one of the blazing barges drifted down upon it. the shock was felt far out in jersey, and northward in connecticut. an estimate of damage was placed at thirty millions of dollars, probably as accurate as such an estimate need be; the event was utterly spectacular, and from the point of view of the unknown destroying agent, effective. exactly one year after von papen gave up the first attempt upon the welland canal, a second enterprise began with the same objective. captain von papen felt that von der goltz had bungled. this time he intrusted the mission to the doughty and usually reliable paul koenig. on september , , koenig, with richard emil leyendecker, a "hyphenated american" who dealt during the daytime in art woods at fifth avenue, new york, and fred metzler, of jersey city, koenig's secretary, went to buffalo and niagara falls, accompanied by mrs. koenig. they had no trouble in crossing the border and making a thorough investigation of the canal, its vulnerable points, its guards and the patrol routes of those guards. koenig selected men whom he detailed to watch the guards, and he fixed on satisfactory storage places for his explosives. the party then returned to niagara falls and later to new york. they did not know that they were being trailed. all three men had been under surveillance for nearly a year, and after their migrations near the canal, the guard was reenforced. it became impossible to carry out the plan. a few weeks later the detectives who were shadowing koenig noticed that george fuchs, a relative whom he employed at a meagre salary, was seldom seen in his company. they sought fuchs out and plied him with refreshment. a few glasses of beer drew out his story: koenig owed him $ , and he therefore bore no affection for koenig. the detectives turned him over to superintendent offley of the department of justice, who sympathized with fuchs to such an extent that the latter retailed enough evidence of the welland plot to secure koenig's indictment on five counts. thus did a debt of thirty pieces of silver--in this case half-dollars--rob the hamburg-american line of a six-foot, -pound detective, and the german spy system in america of one of its roughest characters, for, thanks to fuchs' revelations, koenig was indicted for a violation of section of the penal code. herald square, new york, was the center of open-air oratory every evening until after america entered the war. those who had stood and fought their verbal battles during the day about the bulletin board of the _new york herald_ remained at night to bellow to the idle passersby along broadway, and one night felix galley, a leather-lunged contractor, gave an impassioned discourse justifying germany's entrance into the war. when the meeting broke up he was followed home by one who rather passed his expectations as a convert. the stranger was harry newton. he had been employed in a munitions plant in st. catharine's, ontario. he suggested to galley that he would take any orders for arson which the germans had in mind, and recommended that as proof of his ability he would oblige with a dynamiting of the brooks locomotive works at dunkirk, n. y., for a retainer of $ , . or, he said, he could arrange to destroy the federal building or police headquarters. this was more than the german had bargained for, and assuring newton that he would first have to consult the "chief," he ran straightway to the police and in great agitation told what had happened. captain tunney, of the bomb squad, assigned detective sergeant george barnitz to the case. the detective, posing as a german agent, found newton at mills hotel no. , and opened negotiations with him. after several talks, they met on the afternoon of april , , at grand street and the bowery. barnitz said: "now, i'm in a hurry--haven't much time to discuss all this. you say you're in the business strictly for the money. the chief is willing to pay you $ , if you will smash the welland canal or blow up the brooks locomotive works or burn the mckinnon, dash company's plant at st. catharine's. but how do we know you won't demand more from us after you are paid? maybe you'll want more cash for your assistants." newton was quick to reply that he worked alone and wouldn't trust any assistant. he was anxious to start with the brooks "job" at dunkirk and told barnitz he had left in the baggage-room of the new york central railroad at buffalo a suitcase containing powerful bombs. (the suitcase actually contained a loaded -inch shell, with percussion cap and fuse.) it would be necessary only for him to go to buffalo, get the suitcase, hasten to dunkirk and blow up the locomotive works. "fine," said barnitz. "you are under arrest." newton stared a moment, then laughed. "you new york cops are a damned sight smarter than i ever thought you were," he said, "and you made me think you were a german!" at police headquarters he described his plan for blowing up the welland canal. having worked in a town located on the canal, he was familiar with the position of the locks. "it would be a simple matter," he said. "you see these buttons i am wearing on my watch chain and in my coat lapel. the plain gilt one reads 'on his majesty's service.' the blue and white one reads 'mckinnon, dash company, munitions. on service.' those buttons are passes that would let me into any munitions plant in canada or this country. they would pass me through the guards of the canal. it would be easy for me to pretend to be a workman, get a boat and, carrying a dinner pail, filled with explosives, to pick out a weak spot in the canal works and destroy the whole business. "it would be a cinch to burn the mckinnon, dash plant. i could go back to work there as foreman. any saturday night i could be the last to leave. before going i could saturate flooring with benzine and put a lighted candle where within a half hour or so the flame would reach the benzine." newton also suggested his willingness to dynamite the banking house of j. p. morgan & co., at wall street, or to dynamite the banker's automobile. he had a series of postcards in his own handwriting, which, in case he was hired for a dynamiting, were to be mailed from distant points every day while he was on the assignment, in order to establish an alibi. he was an irresponsible person, and one who could not be said to be under orders from the attachés in lower broadway. yet he is typical of the restless and lawless floating population of which the germans made excellent tools. when he heard galley he promptly offered his services; his boldness would have made him a capital destroying agent, and it was fired by the speech in herald square, a speech inspired from berlin. here was his opportunity to make money. thus, by a word of encouragement, by the whisper of "big money" to discharged, dissatisfied or disloyal employees of munitions plants, the seed of german violence was sown everywhere. men who were well dressed and of good appearance would be remarked if they prowled about factory districts; men must be employed who would fade into the drab landscape by the very commonplaceness of their clothing and action. they could be hired cheaply and swiftly disowned, these newtons! the _new york times_ on november , , recapitulated the damage wrought by german incendiarism as follows: "a graphic idea of what the fire losses in the united states owe to the work of war incendiaries may be gained from consideration of the fact that the total fire insurance paid in the united states in , according to the figures of the national board of fire underwriters, was $ , , . it is estimated that per cent. of the loss by fires in this country is represented in insurance. therefore, the total fire loss in the united states in was something over $ , , . of the $ , , paid out by the insurance companies, $ , , was represented by incendiary fires. a total of $ , , was charged to fires from unknown causes. "in the total jumped by per cent., meaning an increase of about $ , , . the biggest items in this loss were those sustained in munition fires and explosions. black tom holds the record with a loss of $ , , ; there was the kingsland explosion, the penn's grove explosion, and others, all generally admitted to be the work of spies, which caused losses running into millions. "it was estimated yesterday by an insurance official that the incendiary loss in was easily $ , , , or $ , , above normal. and these figures take into consideration only fires where the origin was proved to be incendiary. on the books of the underwriters the black tom munitions fire is not listed as incendiary, because it was never legally proved that a german spy set it going. "this increase in losses for when the big munition explosions occurred, derives significance in the discussion of losses by spy fires since this country entered the war, because the figures of fire losses in the united states for may reach $ , , , or a larger increase over than losses showed over . an estimate made yesterday by the head of a fire insurance company shows that if the average of the losses in the first seven months of the year is maintained until jan. the total would reach well above $ , , , and with the increases of the past few months might easily total $ , , as the cost of the american ash heaps for ." how did the germans know where munitions were being manufactured? rumor fled swiftly through the labor districts, and the news was reported through the regular channels of espionage, cleared through the consulates and german business offices, and forwarded to the attachés and the embassy. but the collection of information did not stop there; it was verified from another source--a serviceable factor in the general system of espionage. the american manufacturer shared his nation's predilection for talking at meal-time. as the war contracts were distributed about the country, every machine shop worthy of the name became a "munitions plant" and the romance of having a part in the war strained the discretion of most of america's war bridegrooms; they simply "had to tell some one"; not infrequently this some one was a reliable intimate, sitting across a restaurant table at lunch. there was in america an organization bearing a title which suggested a neutral origin, but whose officers' names, down even unto the official physician, were undeniably german. it was ostensibly for the mutual benefit of the foreign-born waiters, chefs and pantrymen who composed its membership. but its real significance was indicated by the location of its branches (its headquarters were in new york). trenton, new jersey, for example, was not a "good hotel town," and foreign waiters usually are to be found in a town which boasts a hotel managed by metropolitan interests, and supplied with a foreign staff; but trenton was a munitions center, and there was a branch of this association there. schenectady, the home of the general electric company, had no first-class hotel; there was a branch of the association in schenectady. conversely, numerous cities whose hotels were manned by foreign waiters and cooks had no branches. the organization was founded in dresden in . many a confidence passed across a table was intercepted by the acute ears of a german spy. members of the anglo-french loan commission who were staying at the biltmore in were served by a german agent in a waiter's uniform. it would have gone well for america and the preparations of supplies for her later allies if there had been posted in every hotel dining-room the french admonition, "taisez-vous! ils s'ecoutent!" chapter x franz von rintelen the leak in the national city bank--the _minnehaha_--von rintelen's training--his return to america--his aims--his funds--smuggling oil--the krag-joergensen rifles--von rintelen's flight and capture. there was a suggestion in the newspapers of dates immediately following paul koenig's arrest that the authorities had been lax in allowing the germans to have later access to the safe in his private office in the hamburg-american building. as a matter of fact the contents of the safe were well known to the authorities--how, it is not necessary to say. the multitudinous notes and reference data kept by the industrious "p. k." uncovered a plentiful german source of information of munitions. they knew the factories in which war materials were being turned out. they knew the numbers of the freight cars into which the materials were loaded for shipment to the waterfronts. they knew the ships into which those cargoes were consigned. how they knew was revealed by koenig's secretary, metzler, after he had been arrested in the second welland episode. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ franz von rintelen] down in wall street, in the foreign department of the national city bank, there was a young german named frederick schleindl. he had been in the united states for several years, and had been employed by various bankers, one of whom recommended him to the national city bank shortly after the outbreak of war. in the foreign department he had access to cables from the allies concerning the purchase of munitions. it was customary to pay manufacturers for their completed orders when the bank received a bill of lading showing their shipment by railroad or their delivery at points of departure. close familiarity with such bills of lading and cablegrams gave schleindl an up-to-the-minute survey of the production of supplies. in late schleindl registered with the german consul in new york, setting down his name and address as liable to call for special service. in may, , he was directed by the consul to meet a certain person at the hotel manhattan; the unknown proved to be koenig, who had been informed of schleindl's occupation by the alert german consul. playing on the youth's patriotism and greed, koenig agreed to pay him $ a week for confidential information from the bank. from that time forward schleindl reported regularly to koenig. nearly every evening a meeting occurred in the office in the hamburg-american building, and koenig and metzler would spend many hours a night in copying the letters, cables and shipping documents. in the morning they would return the originals to schleindl on his way to work--he made it his custom to arrive early at the bank--and the papers would be restored to their proper files when the business day began. on december , , schleindl was arrested. in his pocket were two documents, enough to convict him of having stolen information: one a duplicate of a cablegram from the banque belge pour etrangers to the national city bank relating to a shipment of , , rifles which was then being handled by the hudson trust company; the other a cablegram from the russian government authorizing the city bank to place some millions of dollars to the credit of colonel golejewski, the russian naval attaché and purchasing agent. from a german standpoint, of course, both were highly significant. schleindl's arrest caused considerable uneasiness in wall street, and other banking houses who had been dealing in munitions "looked unto themselves" lest there be similar cracks through which information might sift to berlin. there had been many such. koenig was tried on the charge of having bought stolen information, and convicted, but sentence was suspended, although the united states already looked back on two years of waterfront conspiracies to destroy allied shipping. the city bank episode gave a clue to the source of those conspiracies, by the white light which it cast upon an explosion in hold number of the steamship _minnehaha_ on july , . thousands of magnetos were stored there destined for automobiles at the front. the only person besides the officers of the bank and of the magneto factory who could have known of the ship in which they were transported was the man who wrote the letter to the bank enclosing the bill of lading for the shipment. naturally the officers were not suspected of circulating the news; the leak therefore must have occurred in handling the letter. that theory was a strong scent, made no less pungent by the activities in america of one franz von rintelen. rumor has credited franz von rintelen with relationship to the house of hohenzollern. backstairs gossip called him the kaiser's own son--a stigma which he hardly deserved, as his face bore no resemblance to the architecture of the hohenzollern countenance. it was one of strong aquiline curves; with a coat of swarthy grease paint he would have made an acceptable indian, except for his tight, thin lips. the muscles of his jaws were forever playing under the skin--he had a tense, nervous habit of gritting his teeth. from under his pale eyebrows came a sharp look; it contrasted strangely with the hollow, burnt-out ferocity and fright which peered out of the tired eyes of his fellow prisoners when he was finally tried. he had a wiry strength and easy carriage. if he had not been a spy, von rintelen would have made an excellent athlete. like boy-ed he had a thorough gymnasium training. he specialized in finance and economics, entered the navy, and became captain-lieutenant. at the end of his period of service he went to london and obtained employment in a banking house. he then went to new york, where he was admitted to ladenburg, thalmann & co., and found time during his first stay in america to serve as germany's naval representative at the ceremonies commemorating john paul jones. the german embassy gave him entrée wherever he turned. he was a member of the new york yacht club, was received at newport and in fifth avenue as a polished and agreeable person who spoke english, french and spanish as fluently as his native tongue, and he acquired a broad firsthand knowledge of american financial principles and methods. he left new york long before the war, saying he was going to open mexican and south american branches of a german bank. when he returned to berlin in , he was well qualified to sit in council with tirpitz and the navy group and advise them on the development of the german secret service in america. american acquaintances who visited berlin he received with marked hospitality, and some he even introduced to his august friend, the crown prince. in january, , von rintelen, then a director of the deutsche bank, and the national bank für deutschland, and a man of corresponding wealth, was commissioned to go to america, to buy cotton, rubber and copper, and to prevent the allies from receiving munitions. so he went to america. and from his arrival in new york until his departure from that port, he threw sand in the smooth-running machinery of the organized german spy system. he eluded the vigilance of the allies by using a false passport. his sister emily had married a swiss named gasche. erasing the "y" on her passport he journeyed in safety to england as "emil v. gasche," a harmless swiss, who observed a great deal about england's method of receiving munitions. then he evaporated to norway. his arrival in the united states was forecast by a wireless message which he addressed from his ship on april , , asking an american friend of his to meet him at the pier. the american owned a factory in cambrai, france, which had been closed by the german invasion on august , . the american had hastened to berlin in late and asked his friend rintelen to see that the plant be opened. rintelen had succeeded, and was come now to break the good news, knowing perfectly well that the american would be under deep obligation and would secure any introductions for him which he might need. when the ship docked, the friend was not there, for some casual reason. but rintelen, always suspicious, hired a detective, who spent a week investigating; then the friend was discovered, and became rintelen's grateful assistant. so it happened that "emil v. gasche," the harmless swiss, dropped out of sight for the time being, and von rintelen assumed the parts of "dr. jekyll and mr. hyde." "dr. jekyll" visited the yacht club and called upon wealthy friends, proving a more charming, more delightful von rintelen than ever. he met influential business men who were selling supplies to the allies. he was presented to society matrons and débutantes whom he had use for. to these he was herr von rintelen, in america on an important financial mission. "mr. hyde" sought information from von bernstorff, dr. albert, von papen, boy-ed, captain tauscher and george sylvester viereck about the production of war supplies. astounded by what he learned from them and had corroborated from other sources, he began to realize how utterly he had misjudged america's potential resources and what a blunder he had made in his predictions to the general war staff. he saw with a chilling vividness the capacity of america to hand war materials to the allies, and her rapidly increasing facilities to turn out greater quantities of ammunition and bullets. the facts he obtained struck him with especial force because of his knowledge of the greater strategy. it is upon a basis of the supplies of munitions in the allied countries, particularly russia, as von rintelen knew them, that his acts are best judged and upon this basis only can sane motives be assigned to the rash projects which he launched. when he arrived in new york the german drive on paris had failed because in two months the germans had used up ammunition they confidently expected to last three times as long; the english and french in the west could not take up the offensive because ammunition was not being turned out fast enough; the russian drive into germany and austria would soon fail for lack of arms and bullets. in the winter and spring of the russians had made a drive into galicia and austria, hurling the austro-german armies back. they advanced victoriously through the first range of the carpathian mountains until may. meantime the german general staff, as von rintelen knew, was preparing for a retaliating offensive. the war staff knew russia's limited capacity to produce arms and ammunition, knew that during the winter, with the port of archangel closed by ice, her only source for new supplies lay in the single-track siberian railway bringing materials from japan. rintelen realized that by spring the russian resources had been well nigh exhausted and he resolved that they must be shut off completely. he knew that england and france could not help. but spring had already come, and the ships were sailing for archangel laden with american shells. von rintelen's reputation was at stake. the work for which he had been so carefully trained was bound to fail unless he acted quickly. he exchanged many wireless communications with his superiors in berlin--messages that looked like harmless expressions between his wife and himself, messages in which the names of american officers who had been in berlin were used both as code words and as a means to impress their genuineness upon the american censor. he received in reply still greater authority than he had on the eve of his departure from germany. in his quick, staccato fashion he often boasted (and there is foundation for part of what he said) that he had been sent to america by the general staff, backed by "$ , , , yes $ , , "; that he was an agent plenipotentiary and extraordinary, ready to take any measure on land and sea to stop the making of munitions, to halt their transportation at the factory or at the seaboard. he mapped out a campaign, remarkable in its detail, scope, recklessness and utter disregard of american institutions. germany made her first mistake in giving him a roving commission. germany was desperate, or she would have restricted von rintelen to certain well-defined enterprises. instead he ran afoul of the military and naval attachés on more than one occasion, offended them, and did more to hinder than to help their own plans. in early april he made his financial arrangements with the trans-atlantic trust company, where he was known by his own name. money was transferred from berlin through large german business houses, and he deposited $ , in the trans-atlantic and millions among other banks. he rented an office in the trust company building, and had his telephone run through the trust company switchboard. he registered with the county clerk to do business as the "e. v. gibbon company; purchasers of supplies" and signed his name to the registry as "francis von rintelen." in the office of the e. v. gibbon company he received the forces whom he proceeded to mobilize; he was known to them as "fred hansen." if he wanted a naval reservist he called on boy-ed; if an army reservist was required von papen sent him to "hansen." boy-ed gave him data on ship sailings, von papen on munitions plants, koenig on secret service. his first task was to buy supplies and ship them to germany. he boasted that there was no such thing as a british blockade. using his pseudonyms of gibbon and hansen he made large purchases and with the aid of captain gustave steinberg, a naval reservist, he chartered ships and dispatched them under false manifests to italy and norway, where their cargoes could be readily smuggled into germany. through steinberg he importuned a chemist, dr. walter t. scheele, to soak fertilizer in lubricating oil for shipment to the fatherland, where the valuable oil could be easily extracted. through the same intermediary von rintelen gave dr. scheele $ , to ship a cargo of munitions under a false manifest as "farm implements"; dr. scheele kept the $ , and actually shipped a cargo of farm machinery. rintelen's next venture attracted some unpleasant attention. the united states government had condemned some , krag-joergensen rifles, which it refused to sell to any of the belligerents. rintelen cast a fond eye in their direction. president wilson had told a banker: "you will get those rifles only over my dead body." rintelen heard, however, that by bribing certain officials he could obtain the guns, so he sent out agents to learn what they would cost, and found a man who said he could buy them for $ , , , part of which was to be used for effective bribery. "so close am i to the president," said the intermediary, "that two days after i deposit the money in the bank you can dandle his grandchild on your knee!" but just when the negotiations were growing bright, rintelen was told that the man who proposed to sell him the rifles was a secret agent from another government. a certain "dr. alfred meyer" was known to have been groping for those rifles, and the newspapers and government officials became suddenly interested in his real identity. a dowdy woman's implication reached a reporter's ears; presently the newspapers burst out in the "discovery" that "dr. alfred meyer" was none other than dr. meyer-gerhardt, a german red cross envoy then in the united states. like the popping of a machine gun, "correct versions of the facts" were published: "dr. meyer-gerhardt denied vigorously that he was 'dr. alfred meyer,'" then "'dr. alfred meyer' was known to have left the united states on the same ship with dr. meyer-gerhardt," then "an american citizen came forward anonymously and said that he had posed as 'dr. alfred meyer' in order to test the good faith of the government." this last announcement may have been true. it was made to a new york _sun_ reporter by a german, karl schimmel, who professed his allegiance to the united states, and by the "american citizen" who said he had posed as "dr. alfred meyer." it may have been made to shield rintelen himself, for the "american citizen" was an employe of a german newspaper in new york, a friend of rintelen's, a friend of schimmel's and schimmel himself was in von rintelen's pay. let a pack of reporters loose on a half dozen tangents and they will probably scratch the truth. a _tribune_ man heard a whisper of the facts and set out on a hunt for "two germans, meyer and hansen, who have been acting funny." he frightened the personnel right out of the office of the e. v. gibbon company. captain steinberg fled to germany with a trunkful of reports on the necessity of concerted action to stop the shipment of munitions to the allies, and rintelen migrated to an office in the woolworth building. some one heard of his activities there and he was evicted, taking final refuge in the liberty tower, in the office of andrew m. meloy, who had been in germany to interest the german government in a scheme similar to rintelen's own. in meloy's office rintelen posed as "e. v. gates"--preserving the shadow of his identity as "emil v. gasche." so effective was his disappearance from the public view, that he was reported to have gone abroad as a secretary, and he sat in the tower and chuckled, and sent messages by wireless to berlin through sayville, and cablegrams to berlin through england and holland, and enjoyed all the sensations of a man attending a triple funeral in his honor. "meyer," "hansen" and "gasche" were all dead, and yet, here was rintelen! although his sojourn in new york covered a period which was the peak of the curve of german atrocities in the united states, rintelen was a fifth wheel. no man came to america to accomplish more, and no man accomplished less. no german agent had his boldness of project, and no german executive met a more ignominious fate. whatever he touched with his golden wand turned to dross. he was hoodwinked here and there by his own agents, and frustrated by the vigilance of the allied and the united states governments. he has been introduced here because of his connection with subsequent events, and yet this picturesque figure played the major part in not one successful venture. four months he passed in america, until it became too small for him. in august the capture of dr. albert's portfolio and the publication of certain of its contents frightened rintelen, and he applied for a passport as "edward v. gates, an american citizen of millersville, pa.," but he did not dare claim it. though he had bought tickets under the alias, and had had drafts made payable in that name, he did not occupy the "gates" cabin on the _noordam_, but at the last minute engaged passage under the renascent name of "emil v. gasche," the harmless swiss. he eluded the federal agents, and sailed safely to falmouth, england, where, after a search of the ship, and an excellent attempt to bluff it through, he finally surrendered to the british authorities as a prisoner-of-war. meloy and his secretary were captured with him. rintelen was returned to the united states in . he was convicted in and on successive charges of conspiracy to violate the sherman anti-trust law, to obtain a fraudulent passport, and to destroy merchant ships--which combined to sentence him to a year in the tombs and nine years in a federal prison. chapter xi ship bombs mobilizing destroying agents--the plotters in hoboken--von kleist's arrest and confession--the _kirk oswald_ trial--further explosions--the _arabic_--robert fay--his arrest--the ship plots decrease. the reader will recall a circular quoted in chapter viii, and issued november , , from german naval headquarters, mobilizing all destroying agents in harbors overseas. on january , , there was an explosion on board the munitions ship _orton_, lying in erie basin, a part of new york harbor. on february a bomb was found in the cargo of the _hannington_. on february the _carlton_ caught fire at sea. on april two bombs were found in the cargo of the _lord erne_. one week later the same discovery was made in the hold of the _devon city_. all of which accounts for the following charge: "george d. barnitz, being duly sworn, deposes and says ... on information and belief that on the first day of january, , and on every day thereafter down to and including the th day of april, , the defendants walter t. scheele, charles von kleist, otto wolpert, ernst becker, (charles) karbade, the first name charles being fictitious, the true first name of defendant being unknown, (frederick) praedel ... (wilhelm) paradis ... eno bode and carl schmidt ... did unlawfully, feloniously and corruptly conspire ... to manufacture bombs filled with chemicals and explosives and to place said bombs ... upon vessels belonging to others and laden with moneys, goods and merchandise...." ninety-one german ships were confined to american harbors by the activities of the british fleet, ranging from the _neptun_, of tons, in san francisco bay, to the _vaterland_, of , tons, the largest vessel on the seven seas, tied up to accrue barnacles at her hoboken pier, and later, as the _leviathan_, to transport american troops to france. every one of the ninety-one ships was a nest of german agents. only a moderate watch was kept on their crews, and there were many restless men among them. every man aboard was liable to command from captain boy-ed, for the german merchant marine was part of the formal naval organization. the interned sailors found shortly that they could be of distinct service to their country without stirring from their ships. not far from the north german lloyd piers in hoboken lived captain charles von kleist, years old, a chemist and former german army officer. one day there came to him one who spoke the german tongue and who said he came from wolf von igel, in von papen's office. those were good credentials, especially since the gentleman was inquiring on von igel's behalf whether kleist needed any money in the work he was doing. the polite caller returned a few days later with another man, who spoke no german. von kleist asked whether he was also from the fatherland, and was told no, but "we have to use all kinds of people in our business--that's how we fool these yankees!" von kleist laughed heartily, and wagged his head, and went out in the garden and dug up a bomb-case and showed the visitors how it had been made. the visitors were detectives barth and barnitz. they assured kleist that von igel wanted to know precisely what he and his associates were doing, so no money might be paid to the wrong parties. the aged captain wrote out a memorandum of his activities, which he signed, and the detectives proposed a trip to coney island as an evidence of good faith, so the three had a pleasant afternoon at the hotel shelburne, and the officers then suggested: "let's go up and see the chief." "chief" to von kleist meant von igel; he agreed, and was taken gently into the arms of the chief of detectives. he implicated, as he sat there answering questions, captain eno bode, pier superintendent of the hamburg-american line, captain otto wolpert, pier superintendent of the atlas line, and ernst becker, an electrician on the north german lloyd liner _friedrich der grosse_, tied up at hoboken. the other conspirators were induced to come to new york, and were arrested at once. bode and wolpert, powerful bullies of paul koenig's own stamp, proved defiant in the extreme. becker, knowing no word of english, was pathetically courteous and ready to answer. but it remained for von kleist to supply the narrative. becker, working on the sunny deck of the _friedrich der grosse_, had made numerous bomb cases, rolling sheet lead into a cylinder, and inserting in the tube a cup-shaped aluminum partition. these containers he turned over to dr. walter scheele at his "new jersey agricultural company," where he filled one compartment with nitroglycerine, the other with sulphuric acid. scheele supplied the mechanics with sheet lead for the purpose. the bombs were then sealed and packed in sand for distribution to various german gathering places, such as, for example, the turn verein in the brooklyn labor lyceum. wolpert appeared there at a meeting one night and berated the germans present for talking too much and acting too little; he wanted results, he said. eugene reister, the proprietor of the place, said that shortly afterward walter uhde and one klein (who died before the police reached him) had taken away a bundle of bombs from the turn verein and had placed them on the _lusitania_, just before her last voyage, and added that klein, when he heard of the destruction of the ship, expressed regret that he had done it. karl schimmel--the same who had negotiated for the krag rifles--said later to reister: "i really put bombs on that boat, but i don't believe that fellow klein ever did." following kleist's information, agents of the department of justice and new york police inspected the _friedrich der grosse_, and found quantities of chlorate of potash and other chemicals. they brought back with them also garbode (mentioned in the charge as "karbade"), paradis and praedel, fourth engineers on the ship, who had assisted in making the bombs, and carl schmidt, the chief engineer. all of the group were implicated in the plot to the complete satisfaction of a jury which concluded their cases in may, , by convicting them of "conspiracy to destroy ships through the use of fire bombs placed thereon." kleist and schmidt received sentences of two years each in atlanta penitentiary and were each fined $ , ; becker, karbade, praedel and paradis were fined $ apiece and sentenced to six months in prison. dr. scheele fled from justice, and was arrested in march, , in havana. a liberal supply of vicious chemicals and explosives discovered in his "new jersey agricultural company" implicated him thoroughly, if the evidence given by his fellows had not already done so. when he was finally captured he faced two federal indictments: one with steinberg and von igel for smuggling lubricating oil out of the country as fertilizer, under false customs manifests; the other the somewhat more criminal charge of bombing. on april , , the _cressington_ caught fire at sea. three days later, in the hold of the _kirk oswald_, a sailor found a bomb tucked away in a hiding place where its later explosion would have started a serious fire. so it came about that when the four lesser conspirators of the fire-bomb plot had served their six months' sentences, they were at once rearrested on the specific charge of having actually planted that bomb in the _kirk oswald_. the burly dock captains, bode and wolpert, who had blustered their innocence in the previous trial, and had succeeded in securing heavy bail from the hamburg-american line pending separate trials for themselves, were nipped this time with evidence which let none slip through. rintelen was haled from his cell to answer to his part in the _kirk oswald_ affair, and the jury, in january, , declared the nine plotters "guilty as charged" and judge howe sentenced them to long terms in prison. rintelen, alone of the group, as they sat in court, had an air of anything but wretched fanatic querulousness. he followed the proceedings closely, and once took the trial into his own hands in a flash of temper when the state kept referring to the loss of the _lusitania_. it went hard with the nobleman to be herded into a common american court with a riff-raff of hireling crooks and treated with impartial justice. in germany it never could have happened! if those trials had occurred in may, , the history of the transport of arms and shells would not have been marred by such entries as these: may --_bankdale_; two bombs found in cargo. may --_samland_; afire at sea. may --_anglo-saxon_; bomb found aboard. june --_strathway_; afire at sea. july --_minnehaha_; bomb exploded at sea. (the magnetos.) july --_touraine_; afire at sea. july --_lord downshire_; afire. july --_knutford_; afire in hold. july --_craigside_; five fires in hold. july --_arabic_; two bombs found aboard. aug. --_asuncion de larriñaga_; afire at sea. aug. --_williston_; bombs in cargo. aug. --lighter _dixie_; fire while loading. on august the white star liner _arabic_, nineteen hours out of liverpool was torpedoed by a german submarine and sank in eleven minutes, taking lives, of which two were american. germany, on september , declared that the u-boat commander attacked the _arabic_ without warning, contrary to his instructions, but only after he was convinced that the liner was trying to ram him; the imperial government expressed regret for the loss of american lives, but disclaimed any liability for indemnity, and suggested arbitration. on october , however, the government in berlin had changed its tune to the extent of issuing a note expressing regret for having sunk the ship, disavowing the act of the submarine commander, and assuring the united states that new orders to submarines were so strict that a recurrence of any such action was "considered out of the question." if the cargoes could be fired at sea, no submarine issue need be raised. and so fires and bombs continued to be discovered on ships just as consistently as before. the log, resumed, runs thus: sept. --_rotterdam_; fire at sea. sept. --_santa anna_; fire at sea. sept. --_san guglielmo_; dynamite found on pier. now von rintelen's handiwork was revealed in the adventures of robert fay, or "fae," as he was known in the fatherland. in spite of the imaginative quality of the enterprise, and the additional guilt which it heaped upon the executives of the spy system, it was not successful. there were vibrant moments, though, when only the mobilization of police from two states and special agents from the secret service and department of justice averted what would have developed into a profitable method of destroying ships. lieutenant robert fay was born in cologne, where he lived until . in that year he migrated to canada, where he worked on a farm, and later to chicago, where he was employed as a bookkeeper until . he then returned to germany for his military service, and went to work again in cologne, in the office of thomas cook & sons. after a period in a mannheim machine shop he went home and devoted himself to certain mechanical inventions, and was at work upon them when he was called out for war service on august , . his regiment went into the trenches, and the lieutenant had some success in dynamiting a french position. conniving with a superior officer, he deserted his command, and was sent to america by a german reputed to be the head of the secret service, one jonnersen. jonnersen gave fay , marks for expenses in carrying out a plan to stop shipments of munitions from america, and fay arrived in new york april , , on the _rotterdam_. dr. herbert kienzle, a clock-maker, of west th street, had written to his father in germany bitterly assailing the united states for shipping munitions, and enclosed in his letters information of certain american firms, such as browne & sharp, of providence, and the chalmers motor car company, of detroit, who were reputed to be manufacturing them. these letters had been turned over to jonnersen, who showed them to fay as suggestions. upon his arrival in new york, then, fay called on kienzle, who, though he was friendly enough, was reluctant to know of the details fay had planned. dr. kienzle introduced fay to von papen, and later to max breitung, from whom he purchased a quantity of potassium chlorate. the deserter found his brother-in-law, walter scholz, working as a gardener on an estate near waterford, connecticut, and brought him to new york on a salary of $ a week. the two crossed the hudson to weehawken, n. j., and set to work to make bombs. fay had a theory that a bomb might be attached to the rudder of a ship, and so set as to explode when the rudder, swinging to port, wound a ratchet inside the device which would release a hammer upon a percussion cap. their plan was to have the parts manufactured at machine shops, assemble and fill them themselves, and then steal up the waterfront in the small hours and attach the infernal machines to outward bound vessels. fay even counted on disarming the police boats before setting out. it took the two some three months to get the parts made and properly adjusted. meanwhile they employed their spare hours in cruising about the harbor in a motor-boat. a machinist in west nd street, new york, made the zinc tank which they used as a model, and the two conspirators shortly opened a garage in weehawken where they could duplicate the bomb cases unmolested. there came a time when the devices were satisfactory, and fay actually attached one to the rudder of a ship to make sure that his adjustments were correct. the next move was to obtain explosives. fay's prejudice against bombs placed in a ship's hold was that they rarely succeeded in sinking the craft; seventy or eighty pounds of high explosive detonated at the stern of a vessel, however, would blow the rudder away and not only cripple the ship but would probably burst a hole in the stern, mangle the screw, and split the shaft. captain tunney, of the bomb squad, heard in october that two germans were trying to buy picric acid from a man who stopped at the hotel breslin, and who called himself paul seib and karl f. oppegaarde, as the occasion demanded. tunney's men located the two germans, and some days later learned that they had placed an order for fifty-two pounds of tnt, to be delivered at the weehawken garage. the delivery was intercepted, a similar but harmless substance substituted for the explosive, and two detective-truckmen took the package away on their truck to deliver it to fay and scholz. while they were in new jersey, detectives coy, sterrett and walsh found fay at the breslin, and followed him back to weehawken. as he left the garage in the evening in his automobile, the automobile of police commissioner woods followed at a discreet distance. up the palisades the two cars paraded, until in a grove near grantwood, fay and scholz got out of their car and disappeared into the woods with a lantern. after a time they reappeared, and returned to the garage, the police following. next morning chief flynn was called into the hunt--the morning of saturday, october --and he assigned two special agents to the case. the police department directed two detectives to watch the woods at grantwood where the conspirators had gone the night before. detectives murphy and fennelly, each equipped with linemen's climbers, arrived at the wood-road about noon, and spent the next eleven hours in the branches of a great oak tree which commanded the road. the perch was high and the night wind chilly, but the watchers were rewarded at last by the twin searchlights of an approaching car. out of it stepped fay and scholz. the men in the branches saw by the light of the lantern which scholz carried that fay placed a package underneath a distant tree, walked to a safe distance, exploded a percussion cap, watched the tree topple over and went away, apparently satisfied with the power of his explosives. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ robert fay, who made bombs with which he hoped to cripple the shipment of munitions to europe] meanwhile other detectives were watching the rooming house at union hill where fay and scholz lived, and they saw the two come in about o'clock in the morning. scholz had very little sleep, for there was a ship leaving next day for liverpool. he left the house at a. m. and went to the garage. thereupon three detectives returned to the great oak tree at grantwood. about noon fay and his brother-in-law drove up, and unlocking the door of a rude hut in the wood, took out a bag, from which they poured a few grains of powder on the surface of a rock. fay struck the rock with a hammer; a loud report followed, and the hammer broke in his hand. a moment later he heard a twig snap behind him. he turned, and saw a small army of detectives with drawn revolvers closing in on him. fay protested and pleaded, and offered to bribe the detectives for his freedom, but he was locked up with scholz. the two had stored in a warehouse several cases containing their completed bomb mechanisms; the police confiscated from their various caches five new bombs, pounds of tnt, sticks of dynamite, pounds of chlorate of potash, two hundred bomb cylinders, percussion caps, one motor-boat, one chart of new york harbor showing all its fortifications and piers, one foreign automobile, two german automatic pistols and a long knife--a considerable arsenal. their confessions caused the arrest of paul daeche, who had furnished them with explosives, dr. kienzle, breitung, and engelbert bronkhorst. fay received a sentence of eight years in the penitentiary, but after america went to war, atlanta became too confining for his adventurous spirit, and he escaped the prison, and is believed to have crossed the mexican border to safety. scholz was sentenced to four years, and daeche to three. kienzle, breitung and bronkhorst were not tried, their apparent ignorance of fay's designs outweighing in the jury's mind their obvious german sympathies. kienzle, upon the declaration of war of april , , became an enemy alien, and was interned. so lieutenant fay never qualified in active service as a destroying agent. yet he was profligate in his intentions. he offered two men $ , if they could intrigue among the shippers in order that a ship laden with copper for england might wander from the path of convoy into german hands, and he even entertained the fantastic hope, with his chart and his motor-boat and his bombs, of stealing out of the harbor to the cordon of british cruisers who hung outside the three-mile limit and attaching his bombs to their rudders, that the german merchantmen might escape into the open sea. on october the _rio lages_ caught fire at sea; fire broke out in the hold of the _euterpe_ on november ; three days later there was fire aboard the _rochambeau_ at sea; the next day an explosion occurred aboard the _ancona_. and so the list runs on: dec. --_tynningham_, two fires on ship. dec. --_alston_, dynamite found in cargo. dec. --_inchmoor_, fire in hold. jan. --_sygna_, fire at sea. jan. --_ryndam_, bomb explosion at sea. jan. --_rosebank_, two bombs in cargo. feb. --_dalton_, fire at sea. feb. --_tennyson_, bomb explosion at sea. feb. --_livingston court_, fire in gravesend bay. april saw the round-up of the group who had been working under the hamburg-american captains, and although numerous fires occurred during may, , in almost every case they were traced to natural accidents. the number mounted more slowly as the year advanced. with the entrance of america into the war, and the tightening of the police cordon along the waterfront, the chance of planting bombs was still further reduced, but waterfront fires kept recurring, and until the day of ultimate judgment in berlin, when each of germany's arsonists in america comes to claim his reward, none will know the total of loss at their hands. it was enormous in the damage it inflicted upon cargo, but it is improbable that it had any perceptible effect upon the whole export of shells for flanders and france. chapter xii labor david lamar--labor's national peace council--the embargo conference--the attempted longshoremen's strike--dr. dumba's recall. labor produced munitions. the hands of labor could be frightened away from work by explosions, their handiwork could be bombed on the railways, the wharves, the lighters, and the ships, but a surer method than either of those was the perversion of the hearts of labor. so thought count von bernstorff and dr. albert, who dealt in men. so thought berlin--the general staff sent this message to america: "january --for military attaché. you can obtain particulars as to persons suitable for carrying on sabotage in the united states and canada from the following persons: ( ) joseph mcgarrity, philadelphia; ( ) john p. keating, michigan avenue, chicago; ( ) jeremiah o'leary, park row, new york. "one and two are absolutely reliable and discreet. three is reliable, but not always discreet. these persons were indicated by sir roger casement. in the united states sabotage can be carried out on every kind of factory for supplying munitions of war." (signed) "representative of general staff."[ ] so too thought von rintelen, who hired men--usually the wrong ones. full of his project, he cast about for an intermediary. no sly chemist or muscular wharf-rat would do for this delicate task of anesthetizing men with the gas of german propaganda while it tied their hands and amputated their centres of right and wrong; the candidate must be a man of affairs, intimate with the chiefs of labor, skillful in execution, and the abler the better. von rintelen would pay handsomely for the right man. whereupon david lamar, the "wolf of wall street," appeared on the scene and applied for the job--an entrance auspicious for the united states, for the newcomer's philosophy (if one could judge from his previous career) was "me first." in an attempt to defraud j. p. morgan & co., and the united states steel corporation lamar had once impersonated representative a. mitchell palmer in certain telephone interviews. (palmer became custodian of alien property after the united states entered the war.) he was convicted and sentenced to two years' imprisonment in atlanta penitentiary. he appealed the case, and while he was out on bail pending the appeal, he fell in with rintelen. in april, , a new yorker who dealt in publicity was introduced to rintelen, or "hansen," by dr. schimmel. rintelen offered the publicity man $ , to conduct a campaign of propaganda for more friendly relations with germany, to offset the commercial power great britain bade fair to have at the end of the war, and assured him that he would go to any extreme to prevent shipments of munitions to the allies. the war, he said, would be decided not in europe but in america. there must be strikes in the munitions factories. when the publicity man heard also that rintelen was trying to stir up trouble with mexico, he wrote on may to joseph tumulty, president wilson's secretary, informing him of the german's intentions. he was referred to the department of justice, and at their dictation continued in contact with rintelen. shortly thereafter david lamar and his friend henry martin took a trip to minneapolis, where they met congressman frank buchanan and ex-congressman robert fowler, both of illinois. out of that conference grew a plan for forming a labor organization the object of which was ostensibly peace, and actually an embargo upon the shipment of munitions abroad, but whether buchanan and fowler knew of von rintelen's connection with the scheme remains to be proved. it can be readily seen that such a labor organization, if it had actually represented organized labor, could have forced such a stoppage, either by its collective potential voting power and influence, or by fostering a nation-wide strike of munitions workers. the nucleus formed in chicago, about one william f. kramer. "buchanan and fowler came to me in june here in chicago," said kramer, "and told me about their plan to form a council. we opened headquarters, and we engaged two organizers, james short and j. j. cundiff, who got $ a week apiece, a secretary, l. p. straube, who got $ a week, and a stenographer. i was a vice-president, but i didn't get anything. we were known then as labor's peace council of chicago, and we were supposed to be in it because of our convictions against the shipment of munitions. and i'll say that organized labor was made the goat." buchanan had no idea of restricting the council to one city. he called upon samuel gompers, head of the american federation of labor, at atlantic city on june and tried to induce him to back a movement in washington for an embargo. gompers refused flatly and completely to have anything to do with the plan, especially when buchanan made known his associates. those associates were busy meanwhile lobbying in congress, representing themselves as friends of organized labor, and pressing the embargo question. about a week later congressman buchanan inflated the chicago organization into labor's national peace council, with headquarters at washington, to recommend the convocation of a special session of congress at once to "promote universal peace," which meant simply "to promote the introduction and enactment of an embargo." its members met frequently, and annoyed the president and other important men,--even andrew carnegie,--with their importunings for attention, and got exactly what they wanted--wide publicity. about july andrew d. meloy, whose office in new york rintelen was sharing at the time, noticed that his german associate began to keep a clipping-file of news of the council. meloy learned of the project, and assured rintelen that he was foolhardy to attempt, by bribery of labor officials, to divert common labor from earning high wages. to which rintelen replied brusquely: "thanks. you come into this business about : o'clock." rintelen sent a telegram to lamar in chicago on july , the text of which follows: "e. ruskay, room b, sherman hotel, chicago. "party who receives $ , monthly from competitors is now interfering with business in hand. do you know of any way and means to check him? wire. "f. brown." "ruskay" was lamar. later in the day the german sent this message: "twelve thousand five hundred now at capitol. conference here today plans to guarantee outsiders and settlement possible within few days. new issue urgently needed. notify b." the "party" mentioned in the first despatch was the code designation for gompers, and he was indicated in the second message as "twelve thousand five hundred." "b" was buchanan, upon whose connection with labor rintelen told meloy the success of the plan rested. lamar hurried to new york, arriving july , and met rintelen in a limousine at the th street entrance to central park; on the ride which followed the "wolf" told rintelen that a strike then going on among the munitions workers at bridgeport was "only a beginning of his efforts," and that within thirty days the industry would be paralyzed throughout the country. meloy advanced the information that gompers had just gone to bridgeport to stop the strike, to which lamar replied: "buchanan will settle gompers within twenty-four hours!" the clippings kept coming in as testimony to the vigorous work being done by the organization's press bureau: the council attacked the federal reserve banks as "munitions trusts," it cited on july nine ships lying in port awaiting munitions cargoes, and attacked dudley field malone, then collector of the port of new york, for permitting such ships to clear; it claimed to represent a million labor votes, and four million and a half farmers; it listened eagerly to an address by hannis taylor, a disciple of the late warmhearted secretary of state, mr. bryan, in which taylor criticized president wilson and was roundly cheered by the german-american element in the audience. semi-occasionally during the midsummer heat charles oberwager, attorney for the council (whose firm had received handsome fees from von papen), rose to deny any german connection with the organization. the council assailed secretary lansing as a man "whose radicalism was liable to plunge this nation into war." the council assailed, in fact, any project which furthered the interests of the allies. rintelen began to have his doubts of the effectiveness of lamar's work. the bank account in the trans-atlantic trust company had dwindled from $ , to $ , , and rintelen admitted that his transactions with lamar cost him several hundred thousand dollars. labor's national peace conference died quietly, lamar flitted away to a country estate at pittsfield, mass., and rintelen started across the atlantic ocean. august wore on. the council was getting ready for a second gaseous session, when milton snelling, a representative of the washington central labor union, who had been elected a first vice-president of the council, withdrew from its membership, because he "discovered persons participating in the meetings who have been hanging on the fringe of the labor movement for their own personal aggrandizement, men who have been discarded ... others never having been members of any organization of labor," and because jacob c. taylor, the cigar-making delegate from east orange, n. j., said, in answer to a query as to the council's purpose: "we want to stop the export of munitions to the allies. you see germany can make all the munitions she wants." then--and it may be coincidence--about one week later the _new york world_ began its publication of certain of the papers found in the brief case which dr. heinrich albert, of the german embassy, allowed to escape him on a new york elevated train; on august buchanan resigned the council, and taylor was elected to succeed him. indictments were returned against rintelen, as well as against lamar, martin, buchanan and their associates, on december , . buchanan at once exploded with a retaliatory demand for the impeachment of united states district attorney marshall, upon which congress dared not take action. marshall gracefully retired from the trial in may, , lest he prejudice the government's case, and lamar, martin and rintelen were convicted of infraction of the sherman anti-trust law and sentenced to one year each in a new jersey prison. thus ended labor's national peace council, thanks to david lamar. the project for an embargo looked attractive to the embassy, however--so attractive that while the council was at the height of its activity, baron kurt von reiswitz wrote on july , , from chicago to dr. albert: "everything else concerning the proposed embargo conference you will find in the enclosed copy of the report to the ambassador. a change has, however, come up, as the mass meeting will have to be postponed on account of there being insufficient time for the necessary preparations. it will probably be held there in about two weeks. "among others the following have agreed to coöperate: senator hitchcock, congressman buchanan, william bayard hale of new york and the well known pulpit orator, dr. aked (born an englishman), from san francisco. "hitchcock seemed to be very strong for the plan. he told our representative at a conference in omaha: 'if this matter is organized in the right way you will sweep the united states.' "for your confidential information i would further inform you that the leadership of the movement thus far lies in the hands of two gentlemen (one in detroit and one in chicago) who are firmly resolved to work toward the end that the german community, which, of course, will be with us without further urging, shall above all things remain in the background, and that the movement, to all outward appearances, shall have a purely american character. i have known both the gentlemen very well for a long time and know that personal interest does not count with them; the results will bring their own reward. "for the purposes of the inner organization, to which we attribute particular importance, we have assured ourselves of the coöperation of the local democratic boss, roger c. sullivan, as also messrs. sparman, lewis and mcdonald, the latter of the _chicago american_. sullivan was formerly leader of the wilson campaign and is a deadly enemy of wilson, as the latter did not keep his word to make him a senator; therefore, principally, the sympathy of our cause." one is inclined to wonder where rintelen's vast credits went, during his short visits in . lamar took a goodly sum, as we have seen; the negotiations for the purchase of the krag rifles cost him no small amount; his ship bomb activities required a considerable payroll. but as further evidence of the high cost of causing trouble, we must consider briefly the profligate methods he employed in other attempts to inflame and seduce labor. a walkout by the longshoremen of the atlantic coast would cripple the supply of munitions to europe, and might be successful enough to cause a shell famine in france of which the central powers could readily take advantage. there were , dock-workers in american ports; they must be guaranteed a certain wage for five weeks of strike; the cost in wages alone would therefore amount to about $ , , , besides service fees to intermediaries. he had the money, and the first step was taken in the otherwise placid city of boston. on may , , the day the _lusitania_ sank, william p. dempsey, the secretary-treasurer of the atlantic coast international longshoremen's union, met dennis driscoll, a boston labor leader and former city office-holder, at the old quincy house in hanover street. driscoll said that matthew cummings, a wealthy boston grocer, had outlined to him the plan for the strike, and said he was acting for parties who were willing to pay a million dollars. dempsey maintained his poise when the startling information was recited, but he was frightened, and at the conclusion of the interview he telegraphed at once to t. v. o'connor, the president of the union, requesting an interview. the two union men met in albany and discussed the affair pro and con, arriving at the conclusion that they had best reveal the plot to the government. o'connor accordingly told of the negotiations to secretary wilson of the department of labor, and then in connivance with the secret service, went on dealing with the grocer, constantly pressing him for the identity of the principals who, he said, were prepared to supply all the necessary money. he implicated george sylvestor viereck, the editor of a subsidized german propaganda-weekly called _the fatherland_, and said that he had been introduced to him by edmund von mach. neither of those men figured except as intermediaries, and cummings suggested that dr. bernhard dernburg, a loyal propagandist then in the united states, was the director of the enterprises. owing to the high pitch of public feeling over the _lusitania_, cummings could not receive permission from his superiors to go ahead with o'connor, but he did his best to keep o'connor interested. the latter, fearing that german agents were at work on the pacific coast, took a trip to the far west, and during his absence cummings telegraphed him twice. there the affair ended, for o'connor ignored the message, and on july returned to new york to find that a german attempt to force a walkout on the new york waterfront had failed, and that cummings had stopped playing with fire and had gone back to his grocery in boston. when the government turned the story over to a newspaper to publish on september , the time was not ripe to fix the responsibility for the attempt. dr. dernburg was a popular scapegoat at the time, and the implication of his authority in the attempt was allowed to stand. rintelen was in donington hall, a prison camp in england, and it was months thereafter before the united states and british secret services had fully compared notes on him. by that time there were other charges lying against him which promised better cases than an abortive attempt to promote a strike 'longshore. we have witnessed the cumulative influence of newspaper reports in surrounding labor's national peace council with an almost genuine atmosphere of national interest; we have been able to picture the hostility which the publication of the longshoremen's strike story aroused in legitimately organized labor; and although as a typical instance of newspaper influence we should postpone the following incident, it is a temptation too great to resist. it is the story of the story that cost an ambassador, and if any further plea for its introduction be needed, let it be that it is another subtle attempt upon labor in the summer of . [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ dr. constantin dumba, austrian ambassador to the united states, recalled after the disclosures of the correspondence captured on the war correspondent, archibald] james f. j. archibald, an american correspondent who had seen most of the wars of recent years, and who wanted to see more, set sail from new york on august , , for amsterdam, with his wife, his campaign clothes, and a portfolio. at falmouth, england, the usual search party came aboard, and inspected the papers in the portfolio. archibald proved to be an unofficial despatch-bearer, upon whom his german and austrian acquaintances in the united states placed great reliance--such men as papen, bernstorff, and dr. constantine dumba sent reports to their governments in his care. on september the _new york world_ burst forth with the text of one of the letters--one from dr. dumba, the austro-hungarian ambassador at washington, to his chief in the foreign office at vienna, baron burian. it is worth reproducing here intact: "new york, august ." "your excellency: "yesterday evening consul-general von nuber received the enclosed aide memoire from the chief editor of the local influential paper _szabadsag_, after a previous conversation with me in pursuance of his verbal proposals to arrange for strikes at bethlehem in schwab's steel and munitions factory and also in the middle west. "archibald, who is well known to your excellency, leaves today at o'clock on board the _rotterdam_ for berlin and vienna. i take this rare and safe opportunity of warmly recommending these proposals to your excellency's favorable consideration. it is my impression that we can disorganize and hold up for months, if not entirely prevent, the manufacture of munitions in bethlehem and the middle west, which, in the opinion of the german military attaché, is of great importance and amply outweighs the comparatively small expenditure of money involved. "but even if strikes do not occur it is probable that we should extort under pressure more favorable conditions of labor for our poor downtrodden fellow countrymen in bethlehem. these white slaves are now working twelve hours a day, seven days a week. all weak persons succumb and become consumptive. so far as german workmen are found among the skilled hands means of leaving will be provided immediately for them. "besides this, a private german registry office has been established which provides employment for persons who voluntarily have given up their places. it already is working well. we shall also join in and the widest support is assured us. "i beg your excellency to be so good as to inform me with reference to this letter by wireless. reply whether you agree. i remain, with great haste and respect, "dumba." the aide memoire, written by the editor of a hungarian weekly, proposed to create unrest by a campaign in foreign language newspapers circulated free to labor, muck-raking labor conditions in bethlehem, youngstown, cleveland, pittsburg, and bridgeport, where there were great numbers of foreign workmen, hungarians, austrians, and germans. this was to be supplemented by a "horror novel" similar to the bloody effort of upton sinclair to describe the chicago stockyards. special agents of unrest, roll-turners, steel workers, soapbox orators, picnic organizers, were all to be insinuated into the plants to stir up the workmen. this editor had stirred them up a few weeks before at bridgeport--the strike which lamar claimed as his own accomplishment--and he presented to baron burian a really comprehensive plan for creating unrest through his well-subsidized foreign-language press. and in passing it on, dr. dumba stood sponsor for it. the british government saw in the discovery of the letter and the cool impudence of it, a rare chance for propaganda in america. so, as has been said, the _world_ published the story, and at once the wrath of the truly american people justified president wilson in doing what he and secretary lansing had already determined to do--to send dr. dumba home. perhaps dumba's reference to the "self-willed temperament of the president" in another note found on archibald had something to do with the haste with which the ambassador's recall was demanded; it followed on the heels of the publication of the letter: "by reason of the admitted purpose and intent of mr. dumba to conspire to cripple legitimate industries of the united states and to interrupt their legitimate trade, and by reason of the flagrant violation of diplomatic propriety in employing an american citizen protected by an american passport as a secret bearer of official despatches through the lines of the enemy of austria-hungary, the president directs us to inform your excellency that mr. dumba is no longer acceptable to the government of the united states as the ambassador of his imperial majesty at washington." so went dumba. after his departure baron zwiedinek, his chargé d'affaires, and consul von nuber advertised widely in hungarian newspapers calling on austrians and hungarians at work in munitions plants to leave. if they wrote the embassy on the subject, the reply they received read: "it is demanded that patriotism, no less than fear of punishment, should cause every one to quit his work immediately." but neither threats, nor walking delegates, nor german spies could check the output of shells and guns. an attempt made by dr. albert to buy, for $ , , a strike in detroit motor factories failed. the factories were making money as they had never made money before, and labor was buying luxuries. to the american munitions-worker a comfortable supply of money meant much more than the shrill bleat of the central powers. and what was more, he was not entirely satisfied that the right was all on germany's side. (our space does not permit, nor is definite information at present available, to discuss the anarchist, socialist, and i. w. w. elements of labor, and their relations to germany. these three factors, especially the last named, effected in the years - a sufficient amount of industrial unrest to qualify them as allies, if not actual servants, of the kaiser. whether they were employed by germany will be brought out in a trial which began in chicago in april, .) footnote: [ ] mcgarrity, keating, and o'leary, upon the publication of this despatch, uttered vigorous denials of any connection with or knowledge of the despatch or the affairs mentioned. chapter xiii the sinking of the lusitania the mistress of the seas--plotting in new york--the _lusitania's_ escape in february, --the advertised warning--the plot--may , --diplomatic correspondence--gustave stahl--the results. in the eyes of the german admiralty the _lusitania_ was the symbol of british supremacy on the seas. there were larger ships flying the prussian flag, but one of them lay in her german harbor, the other at her little-german pier in hoboken, while the _lusitania_ swept gracefully over the western ocean as she regally saw fit, leaving only a thin trail of smoke for the sluggish undersea enemy to follow. time and again during the early months of war the plotters in berlin had attempted her destruction, and every time she had slipped away--until the last, when the plot was developed on american soil. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ the _lusitania_ leaving the hudson river on her last voyage] her destruction would carry home to germany news of heartening influence out of all proportion to the mere sinking of a large single tonnage. the german visible navy had, with the exception of scattering excursions into the north sea, and the swiftly quenched efforts of the south atlantic fleet, been of negligible--and irksome--consequence. to sink the mistress of the british merchant fleet would be to inform all the world that britain was incapable of protecting her cargo and passenger vessels, to puncture the comfortable british boast of the moment that business was being performed "as usual," and to gratify the blood-letting instincts of the junkers. so von tirpitz, with his colleagues, undertook to sink the _lusitania_, and to warn neutrals to travel in their own ships or stay ashore. early in december, , the german agents who met nightly at the deutscher verein in central park south speculated on ways and means of bringing down this attractive quarry. communication between berlin and new york at that time was as facile as a telephone conversation from the battery to harlem. there were new -kilowatt transmitters in the german-owned sayville wireless station, imported through holland and installed under the expert supervision of captain boy-ed, and memoranda issued in berlin to the naval attaché were frequently the subject of guarded conversation in the german club within a few hours after they had left the wilhelmstrasse. occasionally the conspirators found it more tactful to drive through the park in a limousine during the evening, to discuss the project. spies had made several trips to liverpool and back again aboard the ship, under false passports, and paul koenig's waterfront henchmen supplied all necessary information of the guard maintained at the piers. all this was passed up to the clearing-house of executives, and their plans began to take shape. boy-ed possessed a copy of the secret british admiralty code, which explained his frequent trips to sayville. he knew--and tirpitz's staff therefore knew--the position of any british vessel at sea which had occasion to utter any message into the air. but before he conceived a use for this code other than as a source of information, he decided to try out a code of his own. he arranged with berlin a word-system whose theory was popular with germany throughout the earlier years of her secret war communication: under the guise of apparently harmless expressions of friendship, or grief, or simple business, were transmitted quite definite and specific secret meanings. a message addressed by wireless from the _lusitania_ to a friend in england which read for example "eager to see you. much love" would scarcely arouse suspicion, especially as there was no word in it which might suggest military information. yet in february, , a message of that type was despatched from the eastward-bound _lusitania_ to a british station; it was intercepted and interpreted by a german submarine commander in the "zone" nearby, who presently popped up in the ship's wake and fired a torpedo. his information was better than his aim. the _lusitania_ dodged the steel shark, and fled to safety, her wireless informing the british naval world meanwhile of the presence of the u-boat. the plotters had to reckon with her unequalled speed. the _lusitania_ and her sister ship, the _mauretania_, had each rather prided herself in the past on reducing the other's fresh, bright passage-record from queenstown to new york--a record of four days and a few hours! the submarine of knew no such speed, and it was necessary, if the liner was to be torpedoed, to select out of the vastness of the ocean one little radius in which the submarine might lie in wait for a pot-shot. but just how? spies had reported that it was customary as the _lusitania_ neared the irish coast on her homeward voyage for her captain to query the british admiralty for instructions as to where her convoy might be expected. they reported that under certain conditions german agents might be placed on board. and they reported that the wireless operator was susceptible to bribery. those three facts formed the nucleus of the final plan. audacious as they were in their use of american soil as the base for their plans, the german embassy had certain obligations to the united states government, which they felt must be observed. the unspeakable falsifying which is sometimes called expediency, sometimes diplomacy, required that official america must know nothing of the intentions of which the embassy itself was fully conversant and approving. further, a palliative must be supplied to the american people in advance. consequently count von bernstorff, under orders from berlin, inserted in the _new york times_ of april , , the following advertisement: notice travelers intending to embark on the atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between germany and her allies and great britain and her allies; that the zone of war includes the waters adjacent to the british isles; that in accordance with formal notice given by the german imperial government, vessels flying the flag of great britain or any of her allies are liable to destruction in these waters and that travelers sailing in the war zone on ships of great britain or her allies do so at their own risk. imperial german embassy. washington, d. c., april d, . [illustration: ocean travel notice! travellers intending to embark on the atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between germany and her allies and great britain and her allies; that the zone of war includes the waters adjacent to the british isles; that, in accordance with formal notice given by the imperial german government, vessels flying the flag of great britain, or of any of her allies, are liable to destruction in those waters and that travellers sailing in the war zone on ships of great britain or her allies do so at their own risk. imperial german embassy washington, d. c., april . . the newspaper advertisement inserted among "ocean travel" advertising by the imperial german embassy prior to the _lusitania's_ departure on what proved to be her last voyage] germans in new york who knew of the plot dropped hints to their friends; anonymous warnings were received by several passengers who had booked their accommodations; alfred gwynne vanderbilt received such a message, signed "morte." but such whispers were common, the _lusitania_ had outrun the submarines before and could presumably do it again; further, most americans at that moment had some confidence left in civilization. the plot was substantially this: when captain turner, on the last day of the voyage, should send his wireless query to the admiralty, inquiring for his convoy of destroyers, a wireless reply in the british code directing his course must be sent to him from sayville. his query would be heard and answered by the admiralty, of course, but the genuine reply must not reach him. berlin assigned two submarines to a point ten miles south by west of the old head of kinsale, near the entrance to st. george's channel. she selected an experienced commander for the especial duty, and with him went a secret agent to shadow him as he opened his sealed instructions, and shoot him if he balked. and about the time when the u-boats slipped out of the kiel canal, and threaded their way through the mine-fields into the north sea, submerging as they picked up the smoke of british ships on the western horizon, the _lusitania_ warped out of her pier in the hudson river and set her prow for sandy hook, the grand banks, and ireland. she carried , passengers and a crew of eight hundred, a total of more than , souls, of whom , were sailing to their death. germany had selected their graves; von rintelen had two friends aboard who were detailed to flash lights from the portholes in case the ship made the submarine rendezvous at night. the _lusitania_ carried bombs which dr. karl schimmel placed on board; she carried bombs which wretched little klein placed on board; she carried, too, the creature who was to betray her. her company was gay enough, and interesting; besides mr. vanderbilt her passenger list included charles frohman, the most important of theatrical managers; elbert hubbard, a quaint and lovable writer-artisan; charles klein, a playwright; justus miles forman, a novelist; and numerous others of more or less celebrity, among them an actress who lived to reënact her part in the tragedy for the benefit of herself and a motion picture company. ruthless as it was, the _lusitania_ also carried lindon w. bates, jr., a youth whose family had befriended von rintelen. and there were the women and children. meanwhile, sayville was in readiness, a trained wireless operator prepared at any moment to hear captain turner's inquiry, and to flash a false reply with a perfect british admiralty touch. on may captain boy-ed received word from berlin that he had been awarded the iron cross. on may the _lusitania_ spoke: captain turner's request for instructions. presently the reply came, and was hurried to his cabin. from his code book he deciphered directions to "proceed to a point ten miles south of old head of kinsale and thence run into st. george's channel, arriving at the liverpool bar at midnight." he carefully calculated the distance and his running time on the assumption that he was protected on every side by the british fleet, and set his course for the old head of kinsale. the british admiralty also received captain turner's inquiry, just as the sayville operator had snatched it from the air, and despatched an answer: orders that the _lusitania_ proceed to a point some or miles south of the old head of kinsale, there to meet her convoy. _captain turner never received that message._ the british government knows why the message was not delivered, though the fact has not, at this date, been made public. the _lusitania_ headed northeast all morning. at : o'clock she ran the gauntlet of two submarines; a torpedo was released, and found its target. the ghastly details of what followed have been told so fully, so vividly, and so appealingly that they need not be repeated here. they made themselves heard around a world that was already vibrant with uproar. the first sodden tremor of the ship told captain turner that he had been betrayed. he described later at the coroner's inquest how he had received orders supposedly from the admiralty, and had set out to obey them. he produced the copy of those orders, but of the genuine message from the admiralty he knew nothing. asked if he had made special application for a convoy, he said: "no, i left that to them. it is their business, not mine. i simply had to carry out my orders to go, and i would do it again." america was in a turmoil. germany had presumed too far; she--it is almost incongruous to call germany "she"--had believed that her warning declaration that the waters about the british isles were a war zone would be respected, or if not respected, would serve as an excuse, and that the torpedoing would be accepted calmly by america. she was not prepared for colonel roosevelt's burning denunciation of this act of common piracy, nor for the angry editorial remonstrance of a people outraged at the loss of one hundred and fourteen american lives. but germany recovered her presumptuous poise swiftly, and while ugly medals were being struck off commemorating the german triumph over the ship, and while destroyers were still searching british waters for the bodies of the dead, she sent a note of commiseration and sympathy to washington. three days later--on may --the united states conveyed to berlin a strong protest against the submarine policy which had culminated in the sinking of the _lusitania_. three days before germany replied on may , a submarine attacked an american steamer, the _nebraska_, and the imperial government followed up its first reply with a supplementary note justifying its previous attacks upon the american vessels _gulflight_ and _cushing_. germany's fat was in the fire. a german editor in the united states had the effrontery to announce that american ships would be sunk as readily as the _lusitania_. secretary bryan, of the department of state, at that time a confirmed pacifist, resigned his post on june , thus drawing the sting of a second and sharper protest which went forward to germany the next day. to this the foreign office replied on july that american ships would be safe in the submarine zone under certain conditions, and the president on july rejected this diplomatic sop as "very unsatisfactory." count von bernstorff finally announced, on september , that german submarines would sink no more liners without warning, and his government ratified his promise a fortnight later. the promise was at best a quibble, and it in no way restricted undersea depredations upon commerce and human life. after the _lusitania_ affair followed the _leelanaw_, the _arabic_, and the _hesperian_ and on february , , germany acknowledged her liability for the _lusitania's_ destruction--the day after secretary lansing declared the right of commercial vessels to arm themselves in self-defense, and five days before the crown prince began the ten-months' battle of verdun. the published correspondence of the state department gives in detail the negotiations regarding maritime relations, a record of imperial hypocrisy which indicates clearly the desire and intention of the germans to retain their submarine warfare at any cost. there is not space here to brief the papers, nor any great need, for it was the _lusitania_ which dictated the tone and outcome of the correspondence, and which brought the united states rudely face to face with the cruel facts of war. in spite of these facts, germany employed her agents in desperate, devious and futile attempts to gloss over the crime. relatives of those who had drowned were persuaded by agents (one of them was "a lawyer named fowler, now under federal indictment on another count") to sue the cunard line for damages for having mounted guns on the liner, thus making her liable to attack. paul koenig paid a german, gustave stahl, of hoboken, to swear to an affidavit that he had seen guns on the ship; this affidavit was forwarded by captain boy-ed on june , to washington, and had a wide temporary effect upon public sentiment until stahl was convicted of perjury and sentenced to months in atlanta. it was koenig who hid stahl where neither the police nor the press could find him after he made his statement, and it was koenig who, at the command of the federal authorities, produced him. it was rintelen who dined on the night of the tragedy at the home of one of the victims; it was rintelen who received the news with a mild expression of regret because "he had two good men aboard." tactically germany had attained her objectives; her submarines had obeyed orders and sunk a liner. strategically germany had made a gross miscalculation; recruiting in england took a pronounced rise, the admiralty was shocked into redoubled vigilance, the united states instead of swallowing the affront complicated the question of the freedom of the seas beyond all untangling except by force of arms, and beside the word "belgium" on the calendar of crime the world wrote the word "_lusitania_," as equally typical of the warfare of the hun. chapter xiv commercial ventures german law in america--waetzoldt's reports--the british blockade--a report from washington--stopping the chlorine supply--speculation in wool--dyestuffs and the _deutschland_--purchasing phenol--the bridgeport projectile company--the lost portfolio--the recall of the attachés--a summary of dr. albert's efforts. in addition to the exercise of its diplomatic functions, now more important than they had ever been before, the german embassy had assumed the burden of large commercial enterprises. their execution was entrusted to dr. albert, the privy councillor and fiscal agent for the empire. there was apparently no limit, either financial or territorial, to the scope of his efforts, and the fact that he was able to administrate such a volume of work is no small tribute to his zeal. but that very zeal outran his regard for american law, so in one of his earlier ventures he set out to substitute the law of the empire for that of the nation to which he was accredited. dr. albert was informed on march , , by a german lawyer, s. walter kaufmann of wall street, that his clients, the orenstein-arthur keppel company, had an order for , tons of steel rails to be shipped to russia, despite instructions from the company's home office in berlin that "no orders should be accepted for shipment to any country at war with germany, because of paragraph of the gesetz buch." the gesetz buch is the german penal code. (one of kaufmann's law partners was norvin r. lindheim, legal adviser to germany's agents in the united states.) the manufacturers begged the permission of the embassy to accept the order and pass the actual manufacture on to the united states steel company, in order to evade the letter of paragraph , and in order "to delay the order, if that would in any way be desirable." the matter was neglected in the embassy, and on july the orenstein-arthur keppel company wrote from keppel, pa., to the german consul, philadelphia, dr. george stobbe, again asking permission to accept the order. the consul replied, denying permission, on the ground that the shipment would facilitate the russian transport of troops, and that such action would be within the meaning of paragraph of the gesetz buch. "that you are in position to delay the delivery of the order, to the prejudice of the hostile country ordering, in no way makes you less punishable," he continued. he forwarded a copy of his ruling to the ambassador for approval, and it in turn was forwarded to dr. albert. the order was not taken; the fear of punishment by germany was greater than the protection afforded by american law. the foregoing episode reveals the nature of dr. albert's chief problem--the financial blocking of supplies for the allies. let boy-ed destroy the ships, von papen dynamite the factories and railways, rintelen run his mad course of indiscriminate violence--the smooth financial agent would undertake only those great business ventures in which his shrewdness and experience could have play. he was receiving reports constantly on the economic status, and the following extract from a report from g. d. waetzoldt, a trade investigator in the consulate in new york, will illustrate the german frame of mind about midsummer of : "the large war orders, as the professional journals also print, have become the great means of saving american business institutions from idleness and financial ruin. "the fact that institutions of the size and international influence of those mentioned could not find sufficient regular business to keep them to some extent occupied, half at least, throws a harsh light upon the sad condition in which american business would have found itself had it not been for the war orders. the ground which induced these large interests to accept war orders rests entirely upon an economical basis and can be explained by the above-mentioned conditions which were produced by the lack of regular business. these difficulties, resulting from the dividing up of the contracts, are held to have been augmented, as stated in business circles, by the fact that certain agents working in the german interest succeeded in further delaying and disturbing american deliveries.... "so many contracts for the production of picric acid have been placed that they can only be filled to a very small part." dr. albert also received a report from another trade expert, who had had a long conference with ex-senator john c. spooner of wisconsin as to whether or not there could be prosecutions under the sherman anti-trust law against british representatives because of the restrictions placed by the british government upon dealings by americans in certain copper, cotton and rubber. naturally one of the most vital problems that stirred dr. albert was the british orders in council blockading germany, from which resulted the seizure of meat and food supplies and cotton by british war vessels. he was always on the alert for information of the attitude of the administration and the people of the united states toward the blockade. in another report dated june , , waetzoldt said: "there can be no doubt that the british government will bring into play all power and pressure possible in order to complete the total blockade of germany from her foreign markets, and that the government of the united states will not make a strenuous effort to maintain its trade with germany.... "it has been positively demonstrated during this time that the falling off of imports caused by the war in europe will in the future be principally covered by american industry.... "the complete stopping importation of german products will, in truth, to a limited extent, especially in the first part of the blockade, help the sale of english or french products, but the damage which will be done to us in this way will not be great.... "the _lusitania_ case did, in fact, give the english efforts in this direction a new and powerful impetus, and at first the vehemence with which the anti-german movement began anew awakened serious misgivings, but this case also will have a lasting effect, which, unless fresh complications arise, we may be able to turn to the advantage of the sales of german goods.... "the war will certainly have this effect, that the american business world will devote all its energy toward making itself independent of the importation of foreign products as far as possible.... "if the decision is again brought home to german industry it should not be forgotten what position the united states took with reference to germany in this war. above all, it should not be forgotten that the 'ultimate ratio' of the united states is not the war with arms, but a complete prohibition of trade with germany, and in fact, through legislation. that was brought out very clearly and sharply in connection with the still pending negotiations regarding the _lusitania_ case." that dr. albert used secret and perhaps devious means to secure his information is revealed by an unsigned confidential report which he received under most mysterious circumstances concerning an interview by a man referred to as "m. p." with president wilson and secretary lansing. the person who wrote of "the conversation" on july , , with "legal agent" levy and mr. john simon does not give his name. a striking part of this conversation follows: "levy advises regarding a conference with m. p. thereafter m. p. saw lansing as well as wilson. he informed both of them that an american syndicate had approached him which had strong german relations. this syndicate wishes to buy up cotton for germany in great style, thereby to relieve the cotton situation, and at the same time to provide germany with cotton." (dr. albert attempted, with a suitable campaign of press and political propaganda, to inflame the southern planters over the british embargo on cotton.) "the relations of the american syndicate with germany are very strong, so that they might even possibly be able to influence the position of germany in the general political question. m. p. therefore asked for a candid, confidential statement in order to make clear not only his own position, but also necessarily the political opportunity. the result of the conversation was as follows: " . the note of protest to england will go in any event whether germany answers satisfactorily or not. " . should it be possible to settle satisfactorily the _lusitania_ case, the president will bind himself to carry the protest against england through to the uttermost. " . the continuance of the difference with germany over the _lusitania_ case is 'embarrassing' for the president in carrying out the protest against england.... " . a contemplated english proposal to buy cotton in great style and invest the proceeds in america would not satisfy the president as an answer to the protest.... " . the president, in order to ascertain from mr. m. p. how strong the german influence of this syndicate is, would like to have the trend of the german note before the note is officially sent, and declares himself ready, before the answer is drafted, to discuss it with m. p., and eventually to so influence it that there will be an agreement for its reception, and also to be ready to influence the press through a wink. " . as far as the note itself is concerned, which he awaits, so he awaits another expression of regret, which was not followed in the last note. regret together with the statement that nobody had expected that human lives would be lost and that the ship would sink so quickly. " . the president is said to have openly declared that he could hardly hope for a positive statement that the submarine warfare would be discontinued." dr. albert conferred with captains boy-ed and von papen on all military and naval matters having a commercial phase. captain von papen, on july , , submitted to dr. albert a memorandum for his consideration and further recommendation, headed "steps taken to prevent the exportation of liquid chlorine." he told of the efforts made by england and france to buy that chemical in america, estimated the output here, and cited the manufacturers. he also enclosed a plan for checkmating the allies and concluded with the following paragraph: "it will be impossible, however, for this to go on any length of time, as the shareholders wish the profits to be derived therefrom. dr. orenstein therefore suggests that an agreement be consummated with the electro bleaching company, through the president, kingsley, whereby the delivery of liquid chlorine by this country to france and england will be stopped. a suggested plan is enclosed herewith. "from a military standpoint i deem it very desirable to consummate such an agreement, in order to stop thereby the further exportation of about fifty-two tons of liquid chlorine monthly, especially in view of the fact that in france there is only one factory (rouen) which can produce this stuff in small amounts, while it is only produced in very small quantities, in england." during and german speculation in wool was active. early in the war von bernstorff summoned a german-american wool merchant recommended by a business friend in berlin and directed him to buy all the wool he could secure. he did so, using deutsches bank credits for the purchases made for germany, and making his purchases of wool for germany even in cape town and australia. the german-american, after following this practice for some months, decided that his financial allegiance belonged to america, so he tried, through hugo schmidt, to induce the german interests in his firm to sell out to him. on august , , schmidt wrote to keswig, the berlin principal: "your friend here has inquired in london, and he offers no matter what price may be realizable in london at that time to take over the wool from you at the original price, in which case you would naturally pay all the expenses, which are estimated to be about per cent. as you see, it is not so simple to deal with your friends." the german-american's offer meant a good profit to him, as the london price of wool at that time had advanced nearly per cent. yet he apparently fell into no ill favor with berlin, for in june, , the german foreign office wrote von bernstorff: "interested parties here have repeatedly made representations for preferential treatment of the firm of forstmann & huffman in passaic, n. j., in connection with shipment of coal tar dyes to the united states of america. since this pure german firm, as is well known on your side, undertook last year the wool supply for germany, and therefore claim it has been especially badly treated by england, it is most respectfully recommended to your excellency, should there be no reason to the contrary, to arrange for the greatest possible consideration for this firm in the later distribution of the shipments to consumers which now are in prospect." necessity, the mother of invention, had forced america's production of coal-tar derivatives and dyestuffs upward enormously during the first year of war. as the british blockade tightened, the german supply, which had long constituted the world supply, was cut off completely. the value of dyestuffs in america increased enormously from to . germany witnessed this growth with apprehension, and realized gravely that export expansion would follow increased and perfected production in america, which it promptly did. german chemical interests involved in a drug house familiar with the german market, have testified that their firm "paid three times the value" of a cargo of dyestuffs shipped from bremen to baltimore in in the huge undersea-boat _deutschland_, "which paid for the ship and cargo." her sister ship, the _bremen_, which set forth for america, but never arrived, was also "built with money furnished by the dyestuff manufacturers," according to ambassador gerard. the _deutschland_ herself was feet long, with a cargo capacity of some tons. she docked at the north german lloyd piers in baltimore, and after loading a cargo of rubber and nickel, took an opportune moment one foggy twilight to cast off and slip out to sea. she not only returned safely to germany but made another round trip to america, putting in the second time at new london. she was at sea about three weeks on each crossing of the atlantic. dr. albert made plans for buying up carbolic acid to prevent it from reaching the allies. dr. hugo schweitzer, a german-american chemist of new york, paid down $ , cash on june , , to the american oil & supply company in new jersey as part payment of $ , , for , , pounds of carbolic acid, of which the american oil & supply company had directed the purchase from thomas a. edison. dr. schweitzer said that he bought the liquid not to prevent it from falling into the hands of the allies but to use in the manufacture of medical supplies. not the least interesting of dr. albert's financial experiences is that which conceived and bore the bridgeport projectile company. in a conference early in in the offices of g. amsinck & co., in new york, count von bernstorff came to the conclusion that one way to prevent the shipment of munitions to the enemy was to monopolize the industry, or at least to control it financially as far as possible. dr. albert made an unsuccessful attempt to buy the union metallic cartridge plant for $ , , . he chose as his lieutenants for his next task hugo schmidt, the new york representative of the deutsches bank, and karl heynen, whose past record had been auspicious, as agent for mexico of the hamburg-american line. heynen it was who had smuggled a cargo of arms ashore for huerta at vera cruz, under the nose of the american fleet; he had received some , pesos (mexican) for the coup, and he was regarded as a capable individual. on march , , the bridgeport projectile company was incorporated for $ , , , paid in, with walter knight as president, heynen as treasurer, and karl foster as secretary and counsel. schmidt drew up a contract with the new-born company calling for a large order of shells. on may heynen reported to albert that hydraulic presses for making shells of calibres . to . had been ordered, and would cost $ , . these orders, with all others for tools and machinery which the bridgeport company placed, were so well concealed about the business world that as late as august the impression was current that great britain was financing the company. on june heynen reported to albert through schmidt that the first shell cases would be manufactured under united states government inspection, in order to create the impression that the company was anxious for american contracts, and so that immediate delivery could be made in case such contracts were actually secured. "the most important buildings, forges, and machine shops, are almost under roof; the other buildings are fairly under way; presses, machinery and all other materials are being promptly assembled, and there is every indication that deliveries will commence as provided in the contract; i. e., on sept. st, ." the bridgeport projectile company contracted with the Ætna powder company, one of the largest producers of explosives in america, for its entire output up to january, , and then turned round and offered the spanish government a million pounds of powder. the spanish representatives may have suspected the identity of the company, for they raised certain objections to the contract, to which heynen refused to listen, and he also reported to his superiors that british and russian purchasing agents were going to call on him within a few days. he made a contract with henry disston & co. for two million pieces of steel, most of them tools, for which schmidt advanced the money. he contracted with the camden iron works of camden, n. j., for presses, and posted a forfeit of $ , in case the contract should be cancelled; the contract was signed and cancelled the next day by the bridgeport company, causing the camden concern great business difficulty. thus, by the manipulation of contracts, dr. albert and his associates were accomplishing the following ends: . arranging to supply germany with shells and powder (as soon as smuggling could be effected) at a time when official germany was attempting to persuade the united states to place an embargo on the shipment of war materials to the allies. . securing a monopoly on all powder available. . so tying up the machinery and tool manufacturers that all their production for months to come was under contract to the bridgeport projectile company, yet so wielding the cancellation clauses in its contracts that delivery could be delayed and the date further postponed when the manufacturers of machinery and tools could be free to take allied orders. . arranging to accept contracts for the united states and the allies under such provisions that there would be no impossible forfeit if the contracts could not be fulfilled. this would have the effect of making the allies believe that they were going to receive supplies which the bridgeport projectile company had no intention of furnishing them. . heynen, by the contract with the munitions industry, which his work afforded, knew where allied orders for shells were placed, and he learned to his pleasure that the allies were being forced to contract for shrapnel which was forged--a less satisfactory process than pressing. he also learned that the first two orders for forged shrapnel placed by the allies had been rejected because the product was inferior. . paying abnormal wages with the unlimited funds at its disposal, stealing labor from the union metallic cartridge company in bridgeport, and generally unsettling the labor situation. . offering powder to spain, a neutral with strong german affiliations. the project was glorious in its forecast. but we may well let a german hand describe how it failed; among the papers captured by the british on the war correspondent and secret messenger archibald at falmouth in late august was a letter from captain von papen to his wife in germany, in which he said: "our good friend albert has been robbed of a thick portfolio of papers on the elevated road. english secret service men of course." (papen was not altogether correct in this statement.) "unfortunately, some very important matters from my report are among the papers, such as the purchase of liquid chlorine, the correspondence with the bridgeport projectile company, as well as documents relating to the purchase of phenol, from which explosives are manufactured, and the acquisition of wright's aeroplane patents. i send you also the reply of albert, in order that you may see how we protect ourselves. this we compounded last night in collaboration."[ ] dr. albert could hardly have chosen a more unfortunate set of documents to carry about with him and lose. "pitiless publicity" was his reward, and the statement which he and von papen prepared in refutation and denial was received by those in authority as precisely the sort of denial which any unscrupulous and able master of intrigue might be expected to issue under the circumstances--and no more. if there had been any doubt of the perniciousness of his activities--and there was none--it would have been dispelled by the seizure of the archibald letters, but the result of the exposures of german activity which made the _new york world_, a newspaper worth watching during august and september, , was not the expulsion of dr. albert, but of the military and naval attachés. albert, while he had been magnificently busy attempting to disturb america's calm, had been cunning enough to keep his hands free of blood and powder smoke; boy-ed and von papen had to answer for the origination of so many crimes that it is almost incredible in the light of later events that they escaped with nothing more than a dismissal. on december , secretary lansing demanded their recall on account of their connection "with the illegal and questionable acts of certain persons within the united states"; bernstorff made no reply for ten days, and received a sharp reminder for his delay; he then replied that the kaiser agreed to the recall. four days before christmas von papen sailed for england and holland. on january and , , his effects were searched by the british at falmouth and two documents among others found may be cited here. boy-ed sailed on new year's day, but with no incriminating documents, for he had been warned. the first document found on von papen was a letter from president knight of the bridgeport projectile company, dated sept. , , addressed to heynen at wall street--the building in which von papen had his office--giving certain specifications for shells that were being made in the new bridgeport plant; the second was a memorandum of an interview on december , between papen, heynen, g. w. hoadley of the affiliated american-british manufacturing company, and captain hans tauscher. the four men had discussed specifications for a time, and had agreed that firing tests of the projectiles could be made "in a bomb-proof place by electrical explosion." delays in production at bridgeport are evident in the last sentence of the memorandum: "it was agreed that mr. hoadley, till date, has complied with all the conditions of the contracts of the st april, with the exception of the commencement of the delivery of the shells, which is due to _force majeure_, i. e., to failure to timely obtain the delivery of machinery and tools occasioned by strikes in the machine factories." a letter to von papen from dr. albert, then in san francisco, undated but obviously written in december, , contained these farewell sentiments: "dear herr von papen, "well, then! how i wish i were in new york and could discuss the situation with you and b. e.... so we shall not see each other for the present. shall we at all before you leave? it would be my most anxious wish; but my hope is small. from this time, i suppose, matters will move more quickly than in dumba's case. i wonder whether our government will respond in a suitable manner! in my opinion it need no longer take public opinion so much into consideration, in spite of it being artificially and intentionally agitated by the press and the legal proceedings, so that a somewhat 'stiffer' attitude would be desirable, naturally quiet and dignified!... please remember me to your chief personally. i assume that he still remembers me from the time of the 'experimental establishment for aircraft,' and give my best wishes to mr. scheuch, and tell him that the struggle on the american front is sometimes very hard.... when i think of your and boy-ed's departure, and that i alone remain behind in new york, i could--well, better not!" perhaps dr. albert would have accompanied the attachés had not the submarine situation been so acute. for while the government had in its possession sufficient provocation for his dismissal, and that of count von bernstorff as well, the government's desire at that time was peace, and stubbornly, patiently, it clung to its ideal in a dogged attempt to preserve its neutrality. dr. albert had run the british blockade with his supplies for germany, and had roared protest when great britain seized cargoes of meat intended for germany, although she paid the packers for them in full. he had floated a german loan through chandler & company, a new york house of which rudolph hecht, one of his agents, was a member; he had sold $ , , worth of german securities; to sum up his financial activities, he had played every trick he knew, and his last year in america was unfruitful of result, for he was watched. he returned to germany personally enriched, for time and again, prompted by stock tips from his german friends on stocks or "september lard," and by diplomatic information which he knew would influence the stock market, he made handsome winnings for von bernstorff and himself. footnote: [ ] the captain added: "the sinking of the _adriatic_" (by which he meant the _arabic_, which had been sunk without warning on august , with a loss of sixteen lives, two of them american), "may be the last straw for the sake of our cause. i hope the matter will blow over." on october the german government, consistent with its assurance of september that no more ships would be sunk without warning, disavowed the sinking of the _arabic_, and offered to pay indemnities. so the matter "blew over." chapter xv the public mind dr. bertling--the _staats-zeitung_--george sylvester viereck and _the fatherland_--efforts to buy a press association--bernhardi's articles--marcus braun and _fair play_--plans for a german news syndicate--sander, wunnenberg, bacon and motion pictures--the german-american alliance--its purposes--political activities--colquitt of texas--the "wisconsin plan"--lobbying--misappropriation of german red cross funds--friends of peace--the american truth society. some one has said that america will emerge from this war a gigantic national entity, a colossus wrought of the fused metal of her scores of mixed nationalities. that is naturally desirable, and historically probable. if such is the result, germany will have lost for all time one of her most powerful allies--the german population in the united states. nearly one-tenth of the population of the united states in was of either german birth or parentage. ethnic lines are not erased in a generation except by some great emergency, such as war affords. germany is doomed to a deserved disappointment in the loss of her american stock--deserved because she tried so hard to germanize america. she wasted no time in injecting her verbal propagandists into the struggle on the american front. on august , , dr. karl oskar bertling, assistant director of the amerika institut in berlin, landed in new york, and went at once to report to von bernstorff. the amerika institut had of recent years made considerable progress in familiarizing germany with american affairs; its chief director, dr. walther drechsler, had been master of german in middlesex, a prominent boys' school in massachusetts; he returned to berlin in and was attached, upon the outbreak of war, to the press office. all who were associated with it knew something of america. it is characteristic of the convertibility of german institutions to war that another executive of this organization, employed in peace times to cement the friendship between the two nations, should be sent on the day war was declared to america to establish a german press bureau. dr. bertling went about delivering pro-german speeches, and prepared articles for the press on international questions. these he submitted to bernstorff himself for approval--one such story was to be published in a sunday magazine supplement to a long "string" of american newspapers. although every editor was on the lookout for any "war stuff" which was written with any apparent background of european politics, he found small market for his wares among the new york newspapers, and some of his speaking dates were cancelled. he proposed to publish, with one of his stories, a set of german military maps of belgium, but to this von papen wrote him on november : "i entirely agree with you in your opinion in regard to the maps--it is a two-edged sword," and he added: "one observes how very ill-informed the average american is." bertling's lack of accomplishment drew censure, however, from several sources: the head of the german-american chamber of commerce in berlin chided him for not having carried out his "special mission to supply a cable service to south america and china," and the late professor hugo muensterberg of harvard waxed righteously indignant over the fact that bertling opened and read a letter entrusted by the psychologist to him for safe delivery to dr. dernburg. bertling applied to the embassy for special employment, and on march , , the ambassador's private secretary wrote him: "his excellency is entirely agreeable to giving you the desired employment, but he considers the present conditions too uncertain, as his departure for germany in the near future is not impossible." excellent testimony to the subtle iniquity of his task lies in the names of the men whose pro-ally utterances he was striving to counteract. in a letter written december , , to bertling by c. w. ernst, a bostonian of german birth and american naturalization, appears this passage: "is it prudent to defend the german cause against such men as c. w. eliot and other americans who consider themselves artistocratic and important?... who, apparently, was of more importance than roosevelt, to whom now even the dogs pay no attention?... the feeling of men like eliot, c. f. adams, etc., is well understood. german they know not. they understand neither luther nor kant, nor the history of germany.... tactically it is a mistake to be easy going with england, or in discussion with her american toadies. by curtness, defiance, irony one can get much further...." his friend in the german-american chamber of commerce wrote again to berlin in a vein which showed how closely germany herself was watching publicity in america. "viereck has sent me a letter," he said, "and _harper's_ printed some matter by way of italy.... the foreign office and the war department urgently want more reports sent here. if cables through neutral countries are not feasible, could not americans travelling be called upon? more steam, please.... the exchange professors should get busy.... one is quite surprised here that with the exception of burgess and possibly sloan, nobody seems to be doing anything.... nasmith's article, 'the case for germany,' in the _outlook_ is very good--inspired by me. the same of mead's in _everybody's_." and again: "we will dog uncle sam's footsteps with painful accuracy--his sloppy, obstinate, pro-english neutrality we utterly repudiate. when god wishes to punish a country he gives it a w. j. b. as secretary of state." (when bryan resigned, german rumors were circulated from time to time that secretary lansing, who succeeded him, had had a falling out with president wilson, and was himself on the point of resigning. what herr walther thought of "w. j. b."'s successor is a matter of conjecture.) the documents found in dr. bertling's possession, and the method of securing them, brought forth a sharp editorial from bernard ridder of the _new yorker staats-zeitung_, then one of the stanch members of the foreign language press engaged in defending germany. dr. bertling remained unmolested in the united states until april, , when he was arrested as an enemy alien in lexington, mass., and interned. dr. bernhardt dernburg, to quote the words of a german associate, "had some propaganda and wrote some articles for the newspapers" ... and was "certainly in connection with the german government," gave adolph pavenstedt $ , in early october, . to this pavenstedt added $ , , and on october paid the sum of $ , to the _staats-zeitung_, to tide the newspaper over a rough financial period. "i expected," said pavenstedt," that if the business were bankrupt it would be lost to the ridders, who have always followed a very good course for the german interests here." [illustration: photographs of checks signed by adolf pavenstedt] soon after the war began george sylvester viereck brought out his publication, _the fatherland_, a moderately clever attempt to appeal to intelligent readers in germany's behalf. on july , , the publication having stumbled along a rocky financial path--for no publication distributed gratis can make money--dr. albert wrote viereck: "your account for the $ , --bonus, after deducting the $ received, for the month of june, , has been received. i hope in the course of the next week to be able to make payment. in the meantime, i request the proposal of a suitable person who can ascertain accurately and prove the financial condition of your paper. from the moment when we guarantee you a regular advance, i must " . have a new statement of the condition of your paper. " . practise a control over the financial management. "in addition to this we must have an understanding regarding the course in politics which you will pursue, which we have not asked heretofore. perhaps you will be kind enough to talk the matter over on the basis of this letter, with mr. fuehr." fuehr's office was across the hall from viereck. viereck had assembled about him among others a staff of contributors which included dr. dernburg, frank koester, rudolph kronau, j. bernard rethey, a writer who affects the _nom de plume_ of "oliver ames," edmund von mach (whose brother is an official of some prominence in germany), and ram chandra (the editor of a revolutionary hindu newspaper published in california). viereck, in his paper, forecasted the sinking of the _lusitania_ and later gloated over it as well as over the murder of edith cavell. his father is the berlin correspondent of his paper. they are both "naturalized" citizens of the united states. one of his contributors, as late as , wrote for viereck a peculiarly suspicious essay on his conversion to americanism, setting forth in exhaustive detail the pro-german convictions which he had previously held, and the justification for them, and winding up with a pallid renunciation of them, the document as a whole intended ostensibly to stimulate patriotism, while in reality it would have rekindled the dying german apology. the pernicious viereck, whose mental stature may be judged by the fact that he treasured a violet from the grave of oscar wilde, sought to interest the embassy in his merits as a publisher of german books, and was supported, as pro-german volumes were issued from the jackson press which he controlled. he suggested, too, to dr. albert names of american publishing houses as excellent media for bringing out propaganda books on account of their obvious innocence of german sympathies. a more patent attempt to influence the public originated in the german embassy itself. dr. albert, through intermediaries, schemed to obtain for $ , control of a press association. the sale was not made. one of dr. albert's agents, m. b. claussen, formerly publicity agent for the hamburg-american line, established in the hotel astor, new york, the "german information bureau" for disseminating "impartial news about the war" and "keeping the american mind from becoming prejudiced," and he issued many a red-white-and-black statement to the newspapers. the german interests also had designs on buying an important new york evening newspaper, the _mail_. one of von papen's assistants, george von skal, a former reporter (and the predecessor as commissioner of accounts of john purroy mitchel, new york's "fighting mayor"), entered the negotiations in a letter written by paul t. davis to dr. albert at the embassy. this letter, dated, june , , set forth that-- "in november, , my father, george h. davis, conceived the idea that germany ought to be represented in new york by one of the papers printed in english. he spoke to a number of german-americans about the scheme and finally through mr. george von skal got in touch with ambassador count von bernstorff. mr. percival kuhne acted as the head of the movement until it was found that he could not devote the necessary time to the matter in hand and at father's suggestion mr. ludwig nissen was substituted.... we decided upon the _mail_ as the only paper that was not too expensive.... we opened negotiations with the proprietors of the _mail_ and proceeded until ambassador count von bernstorff notified both mr. kuhne and mr. nissen that at that time nothing further should be done in the matter...." the _mail_ was sold, however, to dr. rumely. dr. albert collected for general franz bernhardi the proceeds of the publication in american newspapers of the latter's famous "germany and the next war." bernhardi wrote von papen on april , : "i have now written two further series of articles for america. the foreign office wanted to have the first of these, entitled 'germany and england,' distributed in the american press; the other, entitled 'pan-germanism,' was to appear in the chicago _tribune_. they will certainly have some sort of effect, this is evident from the inexpressible rage with which the british and french press have attacked those _sun_ articles." [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ george sylvester viereck, founder and editor of _the fatherland_ a pro-german propaganda weekly known later as _viereck's weekly_] bernstorff and papen, under orders from chancellor von bethmann-hollweg, in may, , had under consideration the payment of from $ , to $ , for the expenses of a trip to germany for edward lyell fox, a newspaper writer, who "at the time of his last sojourn in germany" (in ) "was of great benefit to us by reason of his good despatches." von bernstorff himself wrote on march , , to marcus braun, a hungarian, and editor of a review called _fair play_: "_my dear mr. braun_: "in answer to your favor of the th instant, i beg to say that i have read the monthly review _fair play_ for the last years, and i can state that this publication is living up to its name, and that it has always taken the american point of view. during the last months _fair play_ has, in its editorial policy, treated all belligerents justly and thereby rendered great services to the millions of foreign born citizens in this country, especially to those of german and austro-hungarian origin. _fair play_ has fought for the rights of the latter and for truth, always maintaining an american attitude and showing true american spirit. "you are at liberty to show this letter to anybody who is interested in the matter, but i beg you not to publish it, as to (do) this would be contrary to the instructions of my government, who does not wish me to publicly advertise any review or newspaper. "very sincerely yours, "j. bernstorff." on may , , j. bernstorff signed another gratifying document for the same braun--a check for $ , payable to the fair play printing & publishing company. such was the reward of "true american spirit." when germany embarked upon an enterprise she usually followed charts prepared by trained surveyors. her attempts at newspaper and magazine propaganda in the first ten months of war had been hastily conceived and not altogether successful. one of the most comprehensive reports which has come to light is a recommendation, dated july, , in which the investigator discusses the feasibility of a strong german news-syndicate in america. it was to be operated by two bureaus, one in berlin as headquarters for all news and pictures from germany, austria-hungary, turkey and the balkans, one in new york for distribution of the matter to the american press. correspondents from america were to be given the privileges of both eastern and western fronts, from , to , words a day were to be sent by wireless from nauen to sayville, secret codes were to be arranged so that the cable news might be smuggled past the enemy in the guise of commercial messages. the bureau in new york was to gather american news for germany, and the service was eventually to extend over the whole world. [illustration: german embassy washington, d.c. washington, d.c., march , . j.na my dear mr. braun, in answer to your favor of th instant i beg to say that i have read the monthly review "fair play" for the last years, and i can state that this publication has been living up to its name and that it has always taken the american point of view. during the last months "fair play" has, in its editorial policy, treated all belligerents justly and thereby rendered great services to the millions of foreign born citizens of this country, especially to those of german and austro-hungarian origin. "fair play" has fought for the rights of the latter and for truth, always maintaining an american attitude and showing true american spirit. you are at liberty to show this letter to anybody who is interested in the matter, but i beg you not to publish it, as to this would be contrary to the instructions of my government, who does not wish me to publicly advertize any reviews or newspaper. very sincerely yours, _j. bernstorff_ marcus braun, esq., editor of "fair play" new york city. fac-simile of a letter from count von bernstorff to the editor of "fair play"] "in fact," said the report, "it will be particularly desirable to inaugurate the chinese service at once, so that the american public is informed about that which really happens in order to create an effective counter-weight against the japanese propaganda in the american press." the new york bureau was estimated to cost $ , per month, the bureau in berlin about half that sum; two years' effort would have cost about $ , . the writer proposed to establish a lecture service as auxiliary, the total expenses of which, covering the chautauquas of one summer, he estimated at $ , . the investigator concluded: "hoping that my proposals will lead to a successful result, i will take the liberty of advising in the interest of the german cause--aside from the fact whether my proposals will be carried out or not--that the following should be avoided on the part of germany in the future: " . the belgian neutrality question as well as the question of the belgian atrocities should not be mentioned any more in the future. " . it should not be tried any more in america to put the blame for the world war and its consequences alone on england, as a considerable english element still exists in america, and the american people hold to the view that all parties, as usual, are partly guilty for the war. " . the pride and imagination of the americans with regard to their culture should not continually be offended by the assertion that german culture is the only real culture and surpasses everything else. " . the publication of purely scientific pamphlets should be avoided in the future as far as the american people are concerned, as their dry reading annoys the american and is incomprehensible to him. " . finally it is of the utmost importance that the authorities as well as the german people cease continually to discuss publicly the delivery of american arms and ammunition, as well as to let every american feel their displeasure about it." the foreign office never saw fit to act upon the investigator's proposals, for less than a month after he had written his report, it appeared, verbatim, in the columns of a new york newspaper. axiom: the most effective means of fighting enemy propaganda is by propaganda for which the enemy unwittingly supplies the material. [illustration: copy of a check from count von bernstorff to the fair play printing and publishing company] motion pictures appealed to the germans as a practical and graphic means of spreading through america visual proof of their kindness to prisoners, their prodigious success with new engines of war, and their brutal reception at the hands of the nations they were forced in self-defence to invade. so dr. albert financed the american correspondent film company, two of whose stockholders were claussen and dr. karl a. fuehr, a translator in viereck's office. as late as august, , karl wunnenberg and albert a. sander, of the "central powers film company," which was also subsidized to circulate german-made moving pictures, engaged george vaux bacon, a free-lance theatrical press agent, to go to england at a salary of $ a week, obtain valuable information, and transmit it in writing in invisible ink to holland, where it would be forwarded to germany. the two principals were later indicted on a charge of having set afoot a military enterprise against great britain, and were sentenced to two years in prison; bacon, the cat's-paw, received a year's sentence. (sander, a german, had been involved in secret-agent work on a previous occasion when he assaulted richard stegler for not disavowing an affidavit explaining his acquisition of a false passport.) the secret ink they gave bacon was invisible under all conditions unless a certain chemical preparation, which could be compounded only with distilled water, was applied to it. at the start of the war there began in congress a vehement debate over the question of imposing a legislative embargo on the shipment of arms and ammunition to the allies. in these debates participated men who undoubtedly were sincere in the convictions they expressed. nevertheless, in the late winter and early spring of , a hireling of the germans began to seek secret conferences with congressmen in a washington hotel and to outline to them plans for compelling an embargo on munitions. his activities bring us to the affairs of the national german-american alliance, germany's most powerful and least tangible factor of general propaganda in the united states. the organization had a large membership among germans in america; it has been estimated that there were three million members, who constituted a great majority of the adult german-american population. it received a federal charter in . the alliance, to quote professor john william scholl, of the university of michigan, (in the new york _times_ of march , ), "strives to awaken a sense of unity among the people of german origin in america; to 'centralize' their powers for the 'energetic defense of such justified wishes and interests' as are not contrary to the rights and duties of good citizens; to defend its class against 'nativistic encroachments'; to 'foster and assure good, friendly relations of america to the old german fatherland.' such are its declared objects. "all petty quibbling aside, this programme can mean nothing else than the maintenance of a germanized body of citizens among us, conscious of their separateness, resistant to all forces of absorption. it is mere camouflage to state in a later paragraph that this body does not intend to found a 'state within the state,' but merely sees in this centralization the 'best means of attaining and maintaining the aims' set forth above. "all existing societies of germans are called upon as 'organized representatives of deutschtum' to make it a point of honor to form a national alliance, to foster formation of new societies in all states of the union, so that the whole mass of germans in america can be used as a unit for political action. this league pledges itself 'with all legal means at hand unswervingly and at all times to enter the lists for the maintenance and propagation of its principles for their vigorous defense wherever and whenever in danger.'" professor scholl, himself a teacher of german, continues: "a little attention to the context of the sentences quoted shows that these germans demand the privilege of coming to america, getting citizenship on the easiest terms possible, while maintaining intact their alien speech, alien customs, and alien loyalties. that is 'assimilation,' the granting of equal political rights and commercial opportunities, without exacting any alteration in modes of life or 'sittlichkeit.' 'absorption' means americanization, a fusing with the whole mass of american life, an adoption of the language and ideals of the country, a spiritual rebirth into anglo-saxon civilization, and this has great terrors for the members of a german alliance. "a glance back over the whole scheme will show how cleverly it was made to unite the average recent comeoverer with his beer-drinking proclivities, with the professor of german, who had visions of increased interest in his specialty, and the professor of history, who hoped for larger journal space and ampler funds, and the readily flattered wealthy german of some attainments, into a close league of interests, which could be used at the proper time for almost any nefarious purpose which a few men might dictate. "add to this the emphatic moral and financial support of the german-language press as one of the most powerful agencies of the organization, and we have the stage set for just what happened a little over three years ago." the alliance, long before the war, had been active in extending german influence. among other affairs, it had arranged the visit of prince henry of prussia. its president, dr. c. j. hexamer, whose headquarters were in philadelphia, had received special recognition from the kaiser for his efforts--efforts which may be briefly set forth in a speech addressed to germans in milwaukee by hexamer himself: "you have been long-suffering under the preachment that you must be assimilated, but we shall never descend to an inferior culture. we are giving to these people the benefits of german culture." the outbreak of war made the alliance an exceedingly important, if unwieldy, instrument for shaping public opinion. it promoted and sponsored a so-called national embargo conference in chicago in , working hand-in-glove with labor's national peace council in an attempt to persuade congress to pass a law forbidding the export of munitions. at every congressional election, particularly in such cities as chicago, cincinnati, milwaukee, and st. louis, the hand of prussia was stirring about. when o. b. colquitt, a former governor of texas, decided to run for the senate in late , he corresponded with the editors of the _staats-zeitung_ and a new york member of the alliance for support from the german press and the german vote in his state. the next year saw the approach of a presidential campaign, and the alliance established a campaign headquarters in new york to dictate which candidates for united states offices should receive the solid german-american vote. such candidates had to record themselves as opposed to the policies of the administration. an effort was made to further the nomination of champ clark as the democratic candidate, succeeding wilson. a german professor, leo stern, superintendent of schools in milwaukee, after a conference with hexamer there, wrote to the new york headquarters approving the "wisconsin plan" (hexamer's) for swaying the republican national convention. this plan set forth that "it is necessary that a portion of the delegations to the ... convention--a quarter to a third--shall consist of approved, distinguished german-americans." the alliance was bitterly opposed to wilson, it hated the lashing tongue and the keen nose of theodore roosevelt, it distrusted elihu root, and deriving much of its income from the liquor business, it feared prohibition. politically the alliance was constantly active. it supported in early , through its friendly congressmen, the mclemore and gore resolutions, the latter of which, according to hexamer, deserved passage because it would-- " . refuse passports to americans travelling on ships, of the belligerents. " . place an embargo on contraband of war. " . prohibit federal reserve banks from subscribing to foreign loans." the alliance's lobbyist called on senators stone, gore, o'gorman, hitchcock (all of whom he reported as "opposed to lansing"), senator smith of arizona, senators kern, martine, lewis ("our friend"), smith of georgia, works, jones, chamberlain, mccumber, cummins, borah and clapp. borah, he said, had "a fool idea about americans going everywhere." in the house of representatives he canvassed the democratic and republican leaders, kitchin and mann, and a group "all of whom want the freedom of the seas," which included dillon of south dakota, bennett of new york, smith of buffalo, kinchloe of new york, shackleford of missouri, and staley and decker of kentucky. "i saw padgett, chairman of the house naval affairs committee," he continued, "he will fall in line after a while.... i am working with stephens of the house and gore of the senate to put their bills in one bill as a joint resolution. i have told them that my league would aid them in getting members of the house and the senate, as well as helping them with propaganda (this was their suggestion)." the resolutions failed. all these activities cost money. the german embassy through dr. albert furnished the headquarters of the alliance with sufficient funds for its many purposes. count von bernstorff is alleged to have handled a large fund for bribery of american legislators, but the fact has never been established, beyond his request in january, , for $ , , for such purposes. it is a fact, however, that the national german-american alliance collected a sum of $ , during the years - for the german red cross; this was turned over to von bernstorff for transmission to germany, and officers of the alliance have admitted that of this sum about $ , was probably employed in propaganda by dr. dernburg and dr. meyer-gerhardt, who posed as the head of the german red cross in america. contributions to the german and austrian relief funds came in as late as october, , although no part of them were forwarded to europe after the entrance of america into the war. this last event occasioned further activity on the part of the alliance; during the period which followed the break in diplomatic relaxations, and while congress was debating the question of war, members of congress were deluged with an extraordinary flood of telegrams from german-americans cautioning them against taking such a step. these telegrams were prepared by the alliance and the "american neutrality league" and circulated among their members and sympathizers, to be sent to washington. the alliance then issued to its branches throughout the states a resolution of loyalty to be adopted in case war was declared. this resolution, after making a hearty declaration of loyalty to the united states, went on to belie its promise with such pacifist utterances as this: "our duty before the war was to keep out of it. our duty now is to get out of it." so earnest were the efforts of the alliance to keep out of war that some ten months after its declaration of loyalty was promulgated, congress decided to investigate the organization, with a view to revoking its charter. the investigation wrote into the archives certain characteristics of the alliance which had long been obvious to the truly american public; its deep-rooted teutonism, its persistent zeal, and its dangerous scope of activity. the courageous legislators who initiated and pursued the investigation, in the face of constant opposition of the most tortuous variety, had their reward, for on april , , the executive committee of the national alliance met in philadelphia and dissolved the organization, turned the $ , in its coffers over to the american red cross, and uttered a swan song of loyalty to the united states. the body of the octopus was dead. one by one, first in brooklyn, then in san francisco, then elsewhere, its tentacles sloughed away. a word for the pacifists. one pacifist constitutes a quorum in any society. there were in america at the outbreak of war one hundred million people who disliked war. as the injustices of germany multiplied, the patriotic war-haters became militarists, and there sprang up little groups of malcontents who resented, usually by german consent, any tendency on the part of the government to avenge the insult to its independence. social and industrial fanatics of all descriptions flocked to the standard of "peace at any price," and for want of a dissenting audience soon convinced themselves that they had something to say. many of the peace movements which were set going during the first three years of the war were sincere, many were not. a mass meeting held at madison square garden in at which bryan was the chief speaker, was inspired by germany. in the insincere class falls also the "friends of peace," organized in . its letterhead bore the invitation: "attend the national peace convention, chicago, sept. and ," and incidentally betrayed the origin of the society. the letterhead stated that the society represented the american truth society (an offshoot of the national german-american alliance), the american women of german descent, the american fair play society, the german-american alliance of greater new york, the german catholic federation of new york, the united irish-american societies and the united austrian and hungarian-american societies. among the "honorable vice-chairmen" were listed edmund von mach, john devoy, justices goff and cohalan (a trinity of britonophobes), colquitt of texas, ex-congressman buchanan (of labor's national peace council fame), jeremiah o'leary (a sinn feiner, mentioned in official cables from zimmermann to bernstorff as a good intermediary for sabotage), judge john t. hylan, richard bartholdt (a congressman active in the german political lobby), and divers officers of the alliance. the american truth society, inc., the parent of the friends of peace, was founded in by jeremiah o'leary, a tammany lawyer later indicted for violation of the espionage act, who disappeared when his case came up for trial in may, ; alphonse koelble, who conducted the german-american alliance's new york political clearing house; gustav dopslaff, a german-american banker, and others interested in the german cause. in the society, whose executives were well and favorably known to german embassy, began issuing and circulating noisy pamphlets, with such captions as "fair play for germany," and "a german-american war." o'leary and his friends also conducted a mail questionnaire of congress in an effort to catalogue the convictions of each member on the blockade and embargo questions. their most insidious campaign was an effort to frighten the smaller banks of the country from participating in allied loans, by threats of a german "blacklist" after the war, to organize a "gold protest" to embarrass american banking operations, and in general to harass the administration in its international relations. [illustration: the friends of peace attend the national peace convention, chicago, sept. and , _representing_ american truth society american independence union american humanity league american women of german descent american fair play society continental league german-american alliance of greater n. y. german catholic federation of new york united irish-american societies united austrian & hungarian-american soc's upholsterers' international union and other american societies. _national convention committee_ john brisben walker, of new york, chairman alexander p. moore, of pittsburgh, pa, secretary _publicity committee_ rutledge rutherford. chairman henry schaeffer, } richard m. mccann, } secretaries hugh masterson. } general offices: nassau st., new york, n. y. tel. beekman new york, ____________ _hon. vice-chairman of convention committee_ michael j. ryan robert e. ford edmund von mach john devoy jeremiah b. murphy henry weismann horace l. brand paul mueller prof. wm. i. shepherd joseph frey judge t. o'neill ryan richard bartholdt jeremiah o'leary judge john j. rooney ferd timm e. k. victor hon. john w. goff hon. daniel cohalan joseph p. mclaughlin judge john t. hylan judge j. harry tiernan patrick o'donnell james t. clarke hugh h. o'neill frank buchanan o. b. colquitt daniel o'connell col. wm. hoynes stephen e. folan john f. kelly hon. james k. mcguire a. l. morrison miss annie c. malia ellen ryan jolly thomas o'brien j. b. murphy thomas h. maloney t. j. corrigan marry f. mcwhorter p. j. reynolds frank j. ryan j. p. o'mahony thomas f. anderson letter-paper of "the friends of peace"] so with their newspapers, rumor-mongers, lecturers, peace societies, alliances, bunds, vereins, lobbyists, war relief workers, motion picture operators and syndicates, the germans wrought hard to avert war. for two years they nearly succeeded. america was under the narcotic influence of generally comfortable neutrality, and a comfortable nation likes to wag its head and say "there are two sides to every question." but whatever these german agents might have accomplished in the public mind--and certainly they were sowing their seed in fertile ground--was nullified by acts of violence, ruthlessness at sea, and impudence in diplomacy. the left hand found out what the right hand was about. chapter xvi hindu-german conspiracies the society for advancement in india--"gaekwar scholarships"--har dyal and _gadhr_--india in --papen's report--german and hindu agents sent to the orient--gupta in japan--the raid on von igel's office--chakravarty replaces gupta--the _annie larsen_ and _maverick_ filibuster--von igel's memoranda--har dyal in berlin--a request for anarchist agents--ram chandra--plots against the east and west indies--correspondence between bernstorff and berlin, --designs on china, japan and africa--chakravarty arrested--the conspirators indicted. as far back as a plot was hatched in the united states to promote sedition and unrest in british india. the chief agitators had the effrontery in the following year to make their headquarters in rooms in the new york bar association, and to issue from that address numerous circulars asking for money. the late john l. cadwallader, of the distinguished law firm of cadwallader, wickersham and taft, was then president of the bar association, and when he learned of the hindu activities under the roof of the association he swiftly evicted the ringleaders. their organization, chartered in november, , was called the society for the advancement of india. one of its officers was a new york man to whom the british have since refused permission to visit india. its members included several college professors. the presence of several educators in the list may be accounted for by the fact that the society existed apparently for the purpose of supplying american college training to selected hindu youths. many of them were sent to the united states at the expense of the gaekwar of baroda, one of the richest and most influential of the indian princes; the gaekwar's own son was a student in harvard college in the years - . considerable sums of money were solicited from worthy folk who believed that they were furthering the cause of enlightenment in india; others who sincerely believed that british rule was tyrannical gave frankly to the society to help an indian nationalist movement for home rule; others contributed freely for the promotion of any and every anti-british propaganda in india. the source of the latter funds may be suggested by the understanding which long existed between the society for the advancement of india and the clan-na-gael, an understanding witnessed by the frequent quotation in the disaffected press of india of articles from the _gaelic-american_. another successful solicitor was a contemptible swami, vivekahanda, who discussed soul matters to new york's gullible-rich to his great profit until the police gathered him in for a very earthly and material offense. but the students were the best material for revolt, whether it was to be social or military, and we shall see presently how they were made use of. the gaekwar of baroda came to america in the first decade of the new century and expressed freely at that time his dislike for the british. at the time of the muzaffarpur bomb outrage, in which the wife and daughter of an english official were killed, the police found in the outskirts of calcutta a hindu who had been educated at an american college at the gaekwar's expense and who was at that time conducting a school of instruction in the use of explosives and small arms; he even had considerable quantities of american arms and ammunition stored in his house. the youths who held "gaekwar scholarships" in america were under the general oversight of a professor attached to the american museum of natural history, and the accumulation of evidence of the activities of the students finally caused his removal. the society established branches in chicago, denver, seattle, and even in st. john, new brunswick, and it thrived on the pacific coast. within the purlieus of the university of california, there lived in one har dyal, a graduate of st. john's college at oxford. har dyal in that year founded a publication called _gadhr_, which being translated means "mutiny," its main edition published in urdu, other editions published in other vernaculars, and appealing not only to hindus, but to sikhs and moslems. the publication and the chief exponents of its thought formed the nucleus of a considerable system of anti-british activity. whatever was anti-british found a warm reception in berlin. england, in august and september, , was wrestling heroically with the problem of supplying men to the continent before the german drive should reach the channel. her regulars went, and the training of that gallant "first hundred thousand" followed. she combed her colonies for troops, and having an appreciable force of well-trained native soldiers under arms in india, she brought them to france, and the chronicles of the war are already full of stories of the splendid fighting they did, and the annoyance they caused to the grey troops of germany. from the german standpoint it was good strategy to incite discontent in india, both as tending to remove the hindu and sikh regiments from the fighting zone, and as distracting england's attention from the main issue by making her look to the preservation of one of her richest treasure lands; there was the further possibility, after the expected elimination of russia, of german conquest of india, and a german trade route from the baltic to the bay of bengal, through the himalayan passes. germany seized upon the opportunity. the amir of afghanistan had trained his army under turkish officers, themselves instructed by germany through the forces of enver pasha. the afghans were told that the kaiser was mohammedan, and by the faith prepared to smite down the wicked unbeliever, england. the amir himself spoiled germany's designs among his people, however, for upon the outbreak of the war he pledged his neutrality to the british government, and he kept his word. a report found on the war correspondent archibald and written by captain von papen to the foreign office in the summer of , outlines the german version of the situation in india: "that a grave unrest reigns at the present time throughout india is shown by the various following reports: "since october, , there have been various local mutinies of mohammedan native troops, one practically succeeding the other. from the last reports, it appears that the hindu troops are going to join the mutineers. "the afghan army is ready to attack india. the army holds the position on one side of the utak (?) river. the british army is reported to hold the other side of the said river. the three bridges connecting both sides have been blown up by the british. "in the garrison located on the kathiawar peninsula indian mutineers stormed the arsenal. railroads and wireless station have been destroyed. the sikh troops have been removed from beluchistan; only english, mohammedans and hindu troops remain there. "the twenty-third cavalry regiment at lahore revolted, the police station and town house were stormed. the indian troops in somaliland in labakoran are trying to effect a junction with the senussi. all burma is ready to revolt. "in calcutta unrest (is reported) with street fighting. in lahore a bank was robbed; every week at least two englishmen killed; in the northwestern district many englishmen killed; munitions and other material taken, railroads destroyed; a relief train was repulsed. "everywhere great unrest. in benares a bank has been stormed. "revolts in chitral very serious, barracks and government buildings destroyed. the hurti mardin brigade, under gen. sir e. wood, has been ordered there. deputy commissioner of lahore wounded through a bomb in the anakali bazaar. "mohammedan squadron of the cavalry regiment in nowschera deserted over chang, southwest peshawar. soldiers threw bombs against the family of the maharajah of mysore. one child and two servants killed, his wife mortally wounded. "in ceylon a state of war has been declared." in february, , jodh singh, a former student of engineering in the united states, was in rio de janeiro. he was directed by a fellow hindu to call upon the german consul, and the latter gave him $ and instructions to proceed to the german consul in genoa, italy, for orders. thence he was forwarded to berlin, where he attended the meetings of the newly formed indian revolutionary society and absorbed many ideas for procedure in america. supplied with more german money he came to new york and was joined by heramba lal gupta, a hindu who had been a student at columbia, and albert h. wehde, an art collector. the three went to chicago, and singh called at once upon gustav jacobsen, the real estate dealer who will be recalled in the kaltschmidt bomb plots in detroit. jacobsen assembled a group of german sympathizers which included baron kurt von reiswitz, the consul, george paul boehm (mentioned in instructions to von papen to attack the canadian pacific railway) and one sterneck. at the conference jodh singh, boehm, sterneck and gupta were detailed to go to the far east: singh to siam, to recruit hindus for revolutionary service; gupta to china and japan to secure arms; boehm to the himalayas, to attack the exploring party of dr. frederick a. cook, the notorious, to impersonate dr. cook, and thus travel about the hills spreading sedition. wehde, with $ , of von reiswitz's money, boehm and sterneck sailed for manila, and apparently escaped thence to java, to meet two officers from the _emden_, for the three are at this writing fugitives from justice; jodh singh was arrested in bangkok and turned over to the british authorities. in the diary of captain grasshof of the german cruiser _geier_, interned in honolulu, appears the following entry, establishing wehde's call in hawaii, and the complicity of the consulate there in his plans: "at the consulate i met mr. a. wehde from chicago, who is on way to orient on business. "one of the hindoos sent over by knorr (naval attaché of german embassy at tokio) left for shanghai on the th. in hongkong there are hindoos, officers and volunteers, besides one torpedo boat and two japanese cruisers. "k- (a. v. kircheisen) was almost captured in kobe. the first officer of the _china_ warned him and he immediately got on board again as soon as possible. k- informed me that the japs have sold back to the russians all the old guns taken from the latter during the russo-japanese war." reiswitz in june added $ , more to the fund for revolution in india. gupta, to whom von papen had paid $ , in new york, went on to japan with dhirendra sarkar, a fellow conspirator. the presence of the two plotters in japan became known to the authorities and soon thereafter to the public. they were shadowed everywhere, and a complete record was kept of their activities; the newspapers discussed them, and it was common property that they gave a banquet on the night of november , , to ten other hindus, to toast a plot for revolution in india. on november they were ordered by the chief of police to leave japan before december , which was tantamount to a delivery into the hands of the british, as the only two steamers available were leaving for shanghai and hong kong, both ports well supplied with british officers. on the afternoon of december the two plotters escaped in an automobile to the residence of a prominent pro-chinese politician (a friend of sun yat sen) and were concealed there, between false walls, until may, , when they stowed away on a ship bound for honolulu. sarkar returned to india, gupta to america. when the round-up came, in , jacobsen, wehde and boehm were each convicted of violation of section of the federal penal code, and sentenced to serve five years in prison and pay $ , fines; gupta's sentence was three years, his fine $ . the scene shifts for a moment from the orient to the occident, and the twenty-fifth floor of the building at wall street, new york, on the morning of april , . there von papen had had his office; there when he was sent home in december, , he had left in charge a sharp-eyed youth named wolf von igel as his successor. von igel, at eleven o'clock, was surveying the result of several hours' work in sorting and arranging neat stacks of official papers for shipment to the german embassy at washington, for he had got word that trouble was brewing, and that the documents would be safer there. an attendant entered. "a man wants to see you, herr von igel," he announced. "he won't tell his business, except that he says it is important." von igel was gruffly directing the attendant to make the stranger specify his mission when the door burst open, and in dashed joseph a. baker, of the department of justice, and federal agents storck, underhill and grgurevich. "i have a warrant for your arrest!" shouted baker. von igel jumped for the doors of the safe, which stood open. baker sprang simultaneously for von igel, and the two went to the floor in battle. the german was overpowered, and the attendant cowed by a flash of revolvers. "this means war!" yelled von igel. "this is part of the german embassy and you've no right here." "you're under arrest," said baker. "you shoot and there'll be war," said von igel, and made another frantic attempt to close the safe doors. a second skirmish ended in von igel's removal to a cell, while the agents took charge of the documents. the collection was a rare catch. it contained evidence which supplied the missing links in numerous chains of suspected german guilt, and the matter was at once placed in the safe keeping of the government. one letter was dated berlin, february , , and addressed to the german embassy in washington. it reads: "in future all indian affairs are to be exclusively handled by the committee to be formed by dr. chakravarty. dhirendra sarkar, and heramba lal gupta, which latter person has meantime been expelled from japan," ... (gupta was at that moment between the walls of the japanese politician's house.) ... "thus cease to be independent representatives of the indian independence committee existing here. "(signed) zimmermann." the embassy on march , , wrote von igel as follows: "the imperial german consul at manila writes me: "'unfortunately the captured hindus include gupta, who last was active at tokio. the following have also been captured: john mohammed aptoler, rulerhammete, sharmasler, no-mar, c. bandysi, rassanala. apparently the english are thoroughly informed of all individual movements and the whereabouts at various times of the hindu revolutionists.' "please inform chakravarty." the name "chakravarty" occurring in these two memoranda makes it necessary here to turn back the calendar to , in order to outline another conspicuous hindu-german activity. not only were the east indian students and sympathetic educators in america prolific in their verbal advocacy of revolt in india, but with german assistance they attempted at least one clearly defined bit of filibustering, which if it had been successful would have supplied the would-be mutineers in the land of hind with the arms they so longed to employ against the british. the reader will recall the mention of a large quantity of weapons and cartridges which captain hans tauscher had stored in a building in west houston street, new york, and which he said he had purchased for "speculation." the speculation was apparently the project of indian mutiny, which in the eyes of the indian nationalist party was to equal in grandeur the infamous mutiny of . for those arms were shipped to san diego, california, secretly loaded aboard the steamer _annie larsen_, and moved to sea. the plan provided for their transshipment off the island of socorro to the hold of the steamship _maverick_, which was to carry them to india. the two ships failed to effect a rendezvous, and after some wandering the _annie larsen_ put in at hoquiam, washington, where the cargo was at once seized by the authorities. the _maverick_ sailed to san diego, hilo, johnson island, and finally to batavia. count von bernstorff had sufficient courage, on july , to inform the secretary of state "confidentially that the arms and ammunition ... had been purchased by my government months ago through the krupp agency in new york for shipment to german east africa." on july , he wrote again, asking that the arms be returned as the property of the german government, and offering to give the department of justice "such further information on the subject as i may have" if they cared to push an examination of the cargo. on october he threw all responsibility for the movements of the _maverick_ upon captain fred jebsen, her skipper--by this time a fugitive from justice--and stating "the german government did not make the shipment, and knows nothing of the details of how they were shipped"--which was a rather shabby way of discrediting his subordinates. it developed later that the arms were purchased--sixteen carloads of them--by henry muck, tauscher's manager, for $ , , made payable by von papen through g. amsinck & co. to tauscher. a part of the shipment was sent to san diego; the balance was to have gone to india via java and china, but never left on account of the protests of the british consul. instead, a number of machine guns and , , rounds of ammunition were sold to a san francisco broker who was acting as agent for adolphi stahl, financial agent in the united states for the republic of guatemala. when zimmermann cabled to von bernstorff on april , (through count von luxburg in buenos aires), "please wire whether von igel's report on march , journal a, no. , has been seized, and warn chakravarty," he had grave concern over the betrayal of german influences in the hindu conspiracies. this was fully justified when a correspondence notebook of von igel's disclosed, among other entries, the following transactions: august , --captain herman othmer inclosed documents about the _annie larsen_ and von igel forwarded charter to consul at san francisco. september --the embassy forwarded papers from san francisco about the _annie larsen_ and von igel returned them. september --the embassy sent a telegram from san francisco about the _maverick_. september --the consulate, san francisco, sent a letter for information and von igel replied with a telegram about _maverick_ repairs. september , --the embassy sent a letter from the consulate at san francisco about shipment and von igel replied to embassy that the proposals were impracticable. october --the embassy sent a cipher message to berlin about the _maverick_. october --the consulate, san francisco, sent a letter about the _maverick_ negotiations. october , --von igel received a report about a shipment of arms from manila. january , --the embassy forwarded copies of telegrams to san francisco in the matter of the _maverick_. august --the consulate, manila, sent a cipher letter about the transport of arms. november , --aaa sent a report from or concerning ispahan arms. the peaceful har dyal, oxford graduate, lecturer at leland stanford, denizen of the university of california, and editor of _gadhr_, had laid down the following rules for the guidance of members of the group of revolutionaries which he headed: each candidate for membership must undergo a six months' probationary period before his admission; any member who exposed the secrets of the organization should suffer death; members wishing to marry could do so without any ceremony, as they were above the law. under such amiable rules of conduct he accumulated a number of followers of the faith, and more swarmed to the tinkle of german money. in august, , the "first expeditionary force" of revolutionists set sail for india in the _korea_. a few months later, har dyal left for berlin, where he organized the indian revolutionary society, leaving ram chandra as his successor to edit _gadhr_ in berkeley. the avowed object of this society was to establish a republican government in india with the help of germany. they held regular meetings attended by german officials and civilians who knew india, among them former teachers in india. at these meetings the germans were advised as to the line of conduct to be adopted. the deliberations were of a secret nature. har dyal and chattopadhay had considerable influence with the german government and were the only two indians privileged to take part in the deliberations of the german foreign office. besides these societies there were in berlin two other associations known as the persian and turkish societies. the object of the first named was to free persia from european influences in general, and create ill feeling against the british in particular, and to assist the natives to form a republic. the object of the turkish society was practically the same. they established an oriental translating bureau which translated german news and other literature selected by the indian revolutionary society into various oriental languages and distributed the translations among the hindu prisoners of war. har dyal continued in close touch with american affairs. on october and , , he wrote to alexander berkman, a notorious anarchist imprisoned in for violation of the draft law, urging berkman to send to germany through holland comrades who would be valuable in indian propaganda, and asking for letters of introduction "from emma or yourself" (emma goldman) to important anarchists in europe; these communications are unimportant except as they betray the prussian policy of making an ally of anarchy, although anarchy as a social factor is the force from which germany has most to fear. "perhaps you can find them," wrote dyal, "in new york or at paterson. they should be real fighters, i. w. w.'s or anarchists. our indian party will make all the necessary arrangements." ram chandra went on with the work until he was stopped by the foreign office. he printed anti-britannic pamphlets quoting bryan for circulation in india; he printed and delivered to lieutenant von brincken at the german consulate in san francisco some , leaflets, which were to be shipped to germany and dropped by the boche aviators over the hindu lines in france: the handbills read, "do not fight with the germans. they are our friends. lay down your arms and run to the germans." chandra and his crew supplied the _maverick_ with quantities of literature, but most of it was burned when the hindu agents aboard feared that there were british warships near socorro island. in the same group were g. b. lal and taraknath das, two former students at the university of california, the latter a protégé of a german professor there himself engaged in propaganda work. throughout the fall of the hindus in america awaited word of gupta's success in japan. they heard nothing but news of his disappearance. accordingly in december, dr. chakravarty, a frail little hindu of light chocolate complexion, sailed from hoboken for germany, traveling as a persian merchant, on a false passport. he made a good impression on the foreign office, as may be judged by the following letter, dated january , , addressed to l. sachse, rotterdam: "dr. chakravarty will return to the united states and form a working committee of only five members, one of whom should be himself and another, ram chandra. in addition to sending more indians home the new american committee will undertake the following: " --an agent will be sent to the west india islands, where there are nearly , indians, and will organize the sending home of as many as possible. "they have not yet been approached by us and there are no such difficulties in the way of their going to india as are encountered by our countrymen from the united states. " --an agent will be sent to british guiana with the same object. " --a very reliable man will be sent to java and sumatra. " --it is proposed to have pamphlets printed and circulated in and from america. the literature will be printed secretly and propaganda will be carried on with great vigor. " --an effort will be made to carry out the plan of the secret oriental mission to japan. dr. chakravarty is in a position to get letters of introduction to important persons in japan, as well as a safe-conduct for himself and other members of mission." after conferring with dyal, zimmermann, and under-secretary wesendonk of the foreign office, he was given money and sent back to the united states, arriving in february, . he at once sent h. a. chen to china to purchase arms and ship them to india. he then reported to wolf von igel, who paid him $ , for the purchase of a house in th street and one in th street. there he held forth for more than a year, working in conjunction with von igel, and the latter with the embassy in washington. his activities may be indicated, and the complicity of the german government again established, in the following communications: _from von igel to von bernstorff_ "new york, april , --a report has been received here that dr. chakravarty was taken monday, the d of april, to the providence hospital with concussion of the brain in consequence of an automobile accident. his convalescence is making good progress. a certain ernest j. euphrat has been here and he came from the foreign office and had orders with respect to the india propaganda. he could not identify himself, but made a very good impression. he told us herr von wesendonk told him to say that ram chandra's activity in san francisco was not satisfactory. this person should for the time being suspend his propaganda activities." "in re no. : euphrat was sent by me to india in october of last year, and is so far as known here reliable. he was, indeed, recommended at the time by marcus braun. please intimate to him cautiously that he should not speak too much about his orders he received in berlin. san francisco is being informed." "for prince hatzfeld." _from new york to von bernstorff_ "new york, april , --mr. e. j. euphrat has asked that the inclosed documents be forwarded to his excellency in a safe way. he asks for a reply as quickly as possible, because if he does not receive the desired allowance he will have to change the plans for his journey. "(signed) k. n. st." _to h. eisenhuth, copenhagen, from new york, and unsigned_ "may , . we have also organized a pan-asiatic league, so that some of our members can travel without arousing any suspicion. also everything has been arranged for the 'mission to japan.' please let me know when your men can come, so that we can approach the party more definitely. i had talks with one of the directors of the _yamato shimbun_ of tokio and _chinvai dempo_ of kyoto. it would not be necessary to buy off these papers, as they understand it is to mutual interest. but they ask for certain considerations to help their financial status. they are also decided to attack anglo-japanese treaty as antagonistic to national interest. to carry on work it will be necessary to place at the disposal of the committee here $ , ." _cablegram from zimmermann, berlin, to van bernstorff, via von luxburg, buenos aires_ "to bernstorff, may , : berlin telegraphs no. of may . answer to telegram . your excellency is empowered to give the indians $ , . no. of may in continuation of telegram no. . please, in making direct payments to tarak nath das, avoid receipts. das will receipt own payment through a third party as edward schuster. "(signed) zimmermann." _zimmermann to peking, transmitted by luxburg, to bernstorff for peking legation_ "the confidential agent of the nationalists here, the indian, tarak nath das, an american citizen, is leaving for peking by the siberian railway. please give him up to , marks. das will arrange the rest. "zimmermann." "ambassador at washington: please advise chakravarty. "luxburg." _from bernstorff, mailed at mt. vernon, n. y., to z. n. g. olifiers, a german agent in amsterdam_ "june , --referring to my letter a of june , chakravarty reports: organization has been almost completed, and many of our old members are active and free. only they are afraid if arms are not available soon there may be premature uprising in madras and the punjab as well as in bengal. the work in japan is going unusually well, more than our expectations." _from berlin to chakravarty_ "july , --in organizing work in the united states and outside, remember our primary object is to produce revolutions at home during this war. trinidad, british guiana and east africa, including zanzibar, should be particularly tapped for men. "we wired your name to francis e. m. hussain, bachelor of arts, barr. at law, port of spain, trinidad. through messenger communicate full programme desired in trinidad to him, and mention the name 'binniechatto.' he can be trusted. if, after some secret work, you think revolution can be organized in island itself, then we may try to smuggle arms, and our men will seize government and set up independent hindustani republic. do not let such plan be carried out if our prospects for work at home are likely to be ruined." _a report from chakravarty, written july , _ "i am going to vancouver next week to see bhai balwant singh and nano singh sihra, who have asked me to go there to arrange definite plan of action for group of workers there, and then to san francisco to induce ram chandra to plan our committee here, and to include him and his nominees in the said committee, so that our work does not suffer in the east by placing enemies on their guard and right track by his thoughtless, enthusiastic writings.... gupta is back in new york and has seen me, but has not submitted any report. we need $ , more for the next six months to carry out the new plan and to continue the previous work undertaken." _from von bernstorff, at rye, n. y., to olifiers, transmitting chakravarty's report_ "august , --our organization has been well perfected in the west indies and houssain has been approached. we have also enlisted the sympathy of the gongoles party, a strong fighting body of colored people, who have ramifications all over central america, including british guiana and guatemala. arms can be easily smuggled there and if we can get some of the german officers in this country to go there and lead them there is every possibility that we can hold quite a while. but the question is--ask the foreign secretary whether it is desirable, for it might simply create a sensation and nothing more. as soon as we hold there the governmental power the island would be isolated by the british navy, and the attitude of the united states is uncertain, and we may be compelled to surrender sooner or later; but if it serves any purpose either as a blind or otherwise, and after due consideration of its advantages and disadvantages, wire at once the authorities here to give us a few officers, as we need them badly, and other help necessary to carry out the plan, and it can be done without much difficulty. i believe if a sensation is desired something also can be done in london, at least should be tried. if we can get a few men from the pacific coast we can send them easily as a crew with a dutch passport. "we are sending arms in small quantities through chinese coolies over the border in burmah, but in big quantities we do not find possibility. however, we are on the lookout. we have been trying our best with a japanese firm who have a business affiliation in calcutta, whether they will undertake to transmit some arms through their goods. "to complete the chain we are sending mr. chandra to london as a medical student in the university, and he will send men and other informations to you via switzerland. we are also sending a few chinese students to china to help us in the work, and if you want it can also be arranged they give you a personal report through russia and sweden. "we need $ , more, as i return from the pacific coast, to carry out these plans, excepting that of trinidad operations, which, if you approve, wire at once the military agent here to arrange to buy and ship arms to us, before the enemy can be on guard." _to h. eisenhuth, copenhagen, in cipher_ "september , --arms can no more be safely sent to india through pacific, except through japanese merchandise or through china merchants, shipped to chinese ports and then to our border. responsible men are willing to take the risk and they are willing to send their confidential agents to turaulleur." _chakravarty to berlin, foreign office_ "september , --li yuan hung is now president of china. he was formerly the southern revolutionary leader. w. t. wang was then his private secretary. he is now in america and starting for china. he says li yuan hung is in sympathy with the indian revolution and would like english power weakened. some of the prominent people are quite eager to help india directly, and germany indirectly, without exposing themselves to any great risk, on three conditions: "the first--germany to make a secret treaty with china, that in case china is attacked by any power or powers, germany will give her military aid. it will be obligatory for five years after the discontinuance of the present war and there will be an understanding that china shall get one-tenth of all arms and ammunition she will receive for and deliver to the indian revolutionaries and the indian border. "in return, china shall prohibit the delivery of arms and ammunition in the name of the chinese government and from china through private sailing boats and by coolies to any nearby point or any border place as directed. she will help indian revolutionaries as she can, secretly and in accord with her own safety. "but this is to be regarded as a feeler through a third party, and, if it is acceptable to the german government, then they will send one of their trusted representatives to berlin to discuss the details and plan of operations, and if it is settled, then negotiations should take place officially and papers signed through the embassies in berlin and peking. they want to know the attitude of the german foreign office as soon as possible so that they can set the ball rolling for necessary arrangements." _von bernstorff to zimmermann_ "october , --chakravarty's reply is not sent; too long. require at end of october a further $ , . according to news which has arrived here okechi has not received the $ and in the meantime left copenhagen. please withhold payment until polish national committee provides therefor. "bernstorff." _to olifiers, amsterdam, postmarked washington_ "november , --rabindranath tagore has come at our suggestion and saw count okuma, baron shimpei goto, masaburo suzuki, marquis yamanouchi, count terauchi and others; terauchi is favorable and others are sympathetic. rash behari bose is still there to see whether they can be persuaded to do something positive for our cause. s. sekunna and g. marsushita are doing their best. yamatashimbun is strongly advocating our cause. d. pal has not come. benoy sarkar is still in china. lala is willing to go, but this passage could not be arranged. as soon as tilak arrives he will be approached. bapat is still free and writes that he has been trying his best, but for want of arms they have not been able to do anything. received a note from abdul kadir and shamshar singh from termes-buchare that they are proceeding on slowly to their destination. barkatullah is in kabul; well received, lacks funds. mintironakaono is here. isam uhiroi is in pekin. tarak has safely reached there. our publication work is going on well. we have brought out seven pamphlets and one in the press. we are waiting for definite instructions as to the work in trinidad and damrara. "wu ting fang has been now made the foreign minister. he has always been sympathetic with our cause. but the influence of sun yat sen still persists in opposing us in that direction." _zimmermann to bernstorff_ "december , --according to chakravarty, the indians were paid up to september $ , . total credit for indians, $ , . "zimmermann." _zimmermann to bernstorff_ "january , --very secret. the japanese, hideo nakao, is traveling to america with important instructions from the indian committee. he is to deal exclusively with chakravarty. please, after consultation with chakravarty, inform imperial minister at peking and the imperial consulate at shanghai that they are to send in nakao's reports regularly. i advise giving nakao in installments up to fifty thousand dollars in all for the execution of his plans in america and eastern asia. decision as to the utility of the separate payments is left to your excellency and the imperial legation at peking. despatch follows. "(signed) zimmermann." on march , , guy scull, deputy police commissioner in new york, with eight detectives, called at west th street, found dr. chakravarty clad in a loin cloth, and arrested him on a charge of setting afoot a military enterprise against the emperor of india. with sekunna, a german who had been writing tracts for him, he was later transferred to san francisco to stand trial. the typewriter in the th street house, whose characteristics--all typewriters are as individual and as identifiable as finger-prints--had betrayed the conspirators, lay idle for many months, but as late as march , , a hindu, sailandra nath ghose, who had collaborated with taraknath das in writing a propaganda work called "the isolation of japan in world politics," was arrested there in company with a german woman, agnes smedley. the two were accused of violating the espionage act by representing themselves to be diplomatic agents of the indian nationalist party, and of having sent an appeal for aid in the establishment of a democratic federated republic in india to the brazilian embassy in washington, to leon trotzky in russia, and to the governments of panama, paraguay, chile and other neutral nations. in the course of the years and the government built up an unusually exhaustive and troublesome case for nearly one hundred defendants, including the personnel of the san francisco consulate, the german consul at honolulu (who had supplied the _maverick_ in hilo harbor[ ]), a large group of hindu students, a smaller group of war brokers, and numerous lesser intermediaries. their trial was one of the most cumbersome and interesting cases ever heard in an american court. it began on november , , in san francisco, with judge van fleet on the bench. witness after witness recited his story of adventure, each stranger than the last, and all stranger than fiction. lieutenant von brincken, one of the san francisco consulate, pleaded guilty within a few weeks; his sentence was long deferred by the prosecution on account, presumably, of evidence which he supplied the government. george rodiek, the german consul in honolulu, followed suit and was fined heavily; jodh singh turned state's evidence and presently his mind became diseased and he was committed to an asylum; the procedure was interrupted from time to time with wrangles among the defendants, and on one occasion franz bopp, the san francisco consul, shouted to one of his fellows, "you are spoiling the whole case!" when the government, through united states attorney preston, introduced evidence from the department of state, the hindus attempted to subpoena secretary lansing; when bryan's pacifist tracts were introduced the defendants sought bryan. on april , , chakravarty confessed, to the irritation of the other defendants. the climax in melodrama occurred on the afternoon of april , , when, with the case all but concluded, ram singh shot and killed ram chandra in the courtroom. a moment later ram singh lay dead, his neck broken by a bullet fired over the heads of the attorneys by united states marshal holohan. that afternoon judge van fleet delivered his charge to the jury; that night a verdict of guilty was returned against twenty-nine of the thirty-two defendants who had not been dismissed as the trial proceeded. judge van fleet, on april , , pronounced the following sentences: franz bopp, german consul in san francisco, two years in the penitentiary and $ , fine; f. h. von schack, vice-consul, the same punishment; lieutenant von brincken, military attaché of the consulate, two years' imprisonment without fine; walter sauerbeck, lieutenant commander in the german navy, an officer of the _geier_ interned in honolulu, one year's imprisonment and $ , fine; charles lattendorf, von brincken's secretary, one year in jail; edwin deinat, master of the german ship _holsatia_, interned in honolulu, a term of ten months in jail and a fine of $ , ; heinrich felbo, master of the german ship _ahlers_, interned in hilo, hawaii, six months in jail and a fine of $ , . these men may be described as the loyal german group. robert capelle, agent in san francisco of the north german lloyd line, fifteen months' imprisonment and a fine of $ , ; harry j. hart, a san francisco shipping man, six months in jail and a fine of $ , ; joseph bley of the firm of c. d. bunker & co., customs brokers, fifteen months in prison and a fine of $ , ; moritz stack von goltzheim, a real estate and insurance broker, six months in jail and $ , fine; louis t. hengstler, an admiralty lawyer and professor in the university of california and in hastings law college, a fine of $ , ; bernard manning, a real estate, insurance and employment agent in san diego, nine months in jail and a fine of $ , ; and j. clyde hizar, a former city attorney in coronado and assistant paymaster in the united states navy, one year's imprisonment and a fine of $ , . these gentlemen constituted the so-called "shipping group" which was intimately concerned with the affairs of the _annie larsen_ and the _maverick_. dr. chakravarty, who had been delegated by no less a personage than zimmermann of berlin to handle all indian intrigue in america, received a crushing sentence of sixty days in jail and a fine of $ , . bhagwan singh, the "poet of the revolution," was sentenced to eighteen months in the penitentiary; taraknath das, the author and lecturer, to twenty-two months' imprisonment; gobind behari lal, the university of california student, to ten months in jail. the smaller fry of the university of california-_ghadr_ group were disposed of as follows: nandekar to three months in jail, ghoda ram to eleven months, sarkar, who had been in japan with gupta, to four months, munshi ram (of the _ghadr_ staff) to sixty days, imam din to four months, nerajan das to six months, singh hindi to nine months, santokh singh to twenty-one months in the penitentiary, gopalm singh to one year and a day, and nidhan singh to four months. [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ dr. chakravarty (on the right), the accredited agent of germany in the hindu-german intrigues in america. with him is ernest sekunna, also a german agent, arrested with chakravarty] those defendants who remained had not been allowed at large on bail, thanks to the vigilance of preston. yet in spite of all precautions, the proceedings frequently threatened to get out of control. the united states had been at war for a year; the federal court was trying both alien enemies of military status and alien enemies who had engaged in and stood convicted of conspiracy, as well as conspirators against the rule of britain in india who had revolution quite definitely in mind. great britain, for six months before the trial began, had been our ally and, in spirit at least, a traitor to great britain was a traitor to the united states. in spirit, but not in the letter of the law: the worst punishment which any existing statutes could impose on any single defendant found wholly and completely guilty of the charge was _two years' imprisonment and a fine of $ , _. for such conviction, and for such punishment of the united states' military enemies, the prosecution clambered about through the tangle of civil procedure; we had been six months at war and laws had not been supplied to facilitate the swift justice due such enemies, nor have laws been supplied as this is written. more than eighty "court days" were consumed, the shorthand reporting alone cost more than $ , . a court commissioner released four important witnesses "for want of evidence." (one of them was indicted in new york and the commissioner was himself dismissed.) gupta, arrested in new york, was released on bail and swiftly fled across the mexican border to continue his propaganda. trying as the case was to all who were concerned in it, expeditiously as it was handled by the authorities, and informative as it proved to be, it was monumental in its confession that civil courts cannot act with the warning vigor and speed made necessary by war conditions. the evidence introduced pointed clearly to the conclusion that the german-hindu plot, complex as it is to us as critics, was unfruitful even to berlin. perhaps its very breadth made it awkward to manage. nearly four years of war passed, and there was no mutiny in india. the stewards of the indian domain knew anxious moments, but they found some solace in the realization that half way around the world, in the united states, there was a pair of eyes to watch every pair of mischievous hands, and that the conspiracy directed against the orient could not take effect while those eyes were open. it requires no special gift of prophecy to predict that secret conspiracies will continue unless those eyes are more vigilant than ever. the united states attorney announced as the conspirators were being sentenced that he felt that the court might well instruct their dark associates to "cut out their propaganda," and that their _gahdr_ presses were even then turning out "barrels and bales of seditious literature." to this judge van fleet gravely responded: "the people are going to take the law into their own hands, as much as we regret it. the citizens of this country are going to suppress manifestations hostile to our allies." footnote: [ ] the _maverick_ was lost in a typhoon off the philippines in august, . chapter xvii mexico, ireland, and bolo huerta arrives in new york--the restoration plot--german intrigue in central america--the zimmermann note--sinn fein--sir roger casement and the easter rebellion--bolo pacha in america and france--a warning. germany learned during president roosevelt's administration that the monroe doctrine was not to be tampered with. the united states stood squarely upon a policy of "hands off latin america." but both commercial and diplomatic germany were attracted by the bright colors of the somewhat kaleidoscopic political condition of the central and south american nations. in political confusion, mexico, at the outbreak of war, led all the rest. this suited germany's purpose perfectly--provided that at least one faction in mexico might be susceptible to her influence. the first three years of war proved to the satisfaction of the most skeptical that mexican unrest would trouble the united states, and it was upon this theory that germany long before baited her hook for mexico. propagandists in our neighbor republic added fuel to the already brisk flame of native hostility to the yankee. a considerable german commercial colony grew up, assimilated the language and customs of mexico, and bade fair to be a strong competitor in the development of the huge natural resources waiting there for foreign capital. by germany had evidently expected to be in a position sufficiently strong to enlist mexico on her side in case the united states gave trouble. the reader will recall that admiral von hintze in the summer of had recommended captain von papen for a decoration for having organized a fair military unit of the germans in mexico. that same summer, however, saw mexico with troubles of her own, and german efforts against the united states through mexico had to be postponed. early in general huerta, an unscrupulous, powerful and dissolute factionist, had executed a _coup d'etat_ which placed him in the president's chair. he at once advertised for bids. the united states had no intention of protecting him, and in order to stop at its source any trouble which might prove too attractive to a foreign power, placed an embargo upon the shipment of american arms into mexico. the american fleet was despatched to vera cruz to see that the order was carried out. the steamship _ypiranga_, with a cargo of arms, succeeded in eluding the fleet, and under orders from the german admiral, and the direction of karl heynen, the arms were landed. huerta had promised the presidency to felix diaz. in order to get him out of the way he sent diaz to negotiate a japanese understanding. the united states gently diverted señor diaz from his mission. huerta began to lose the grip he held; three other factionists, villa, carranza and zapata, each at the head of an army, were aiming at his head, and shortly before the world went to war the old rogue fled to barcelona. there rintelen negotiated with him in february, , and out of their conferences grew a plan to restore him to the mexican presidency. this plan would have meant war between mexico and the united states, which was precisely what von rintelen and his wilhelmstrasse friends desired: american forces would have to be mobilized at the rio grande, and american munitions, destined for the allies, would have to be commandeered and diverted to mexico. the aged general arrived in new york in april, and was interviewed and photographed. he told the public through the newspapers that he proposed to acquire an estate on long island and the public considered it not inauspicious that the veteran warrior should have come to pass the remainder of his stormy life in the world's most peaceful country. fortunately for the peace of the united states not every one believed him. within a week of his arrival von rintelen slipped into new york. he placed in the havana branch of the deutsches bank and in banks in mexico city some $ , to huerta's credit, and within a short time the political jackals who lived on foreign subsidy began to prick up their ears. von papen and boy-ed had made trips to the mexican border, arranging through their consular agents in the mexican towns across the river the mobilization of germans in mexico, the storing of supplies and ammunition, and the deposit of funds in banks at brownsville, el paso, san antonio and douglas. not all mexicans in the united states were huertistas, however, and one raphael nieto, assistant-secretary of finance to carranza, was quite as eager to follow huerta's activities as were the agents of the united states. the carranzistas joined forces with the secret service and found out that the plot had already begun to develop. during the month of may, huerta frequently met a member of the german embassy at the hotel mcalpin. von rintelen was clever enough not to negotiate in person, but he dined frequently with the embassy member. much of what had occurred at these conferences in the mcalpin was known to government agents, who had been concealed where they could take notes on the conversation. on june , , general huerta, with jose ratner, his "financial adviser," held a conference in the holland house with a former huertista cabinet minister, a son of the mexican general, angeles, and certain other personages who purposed to take part in the revolution for the sake of this world. one of the men present was a carranza spy, and through him it became known that huerta outlined that he had ten millions of dollars for immediate use in a plot to restore him to his former position, twice that sum in reserve, and that more would be forthcoming if necessary. arms and ammunition, he said, would be shipped into mexico secretly, supplies would be accumulated at certain border towns, and envoys had already been sent to incite desertion from the armies of carranza and villa. rintelen did not know that the carranzistas had sold out to the authorities. rintelen had already purchased some $ , , worth of arms and cartridges, and he was prepared to see the enterprise to a successful conclusion. incidentally he was quietly supplying six other mexican factions with funds in case huerta's measure of success should prove too intoxicating. because he was a figure of considerable international notoriety and indisputable news interest, the press had been following huerta's movements with strict attention. affairs at the border were not reassuring and there persisted the feeling that huerta in the united states held promise of huerta once more in mexico. in july, his agent, ratner, issued the following frank though apparently ingenious statement: "general huerta and those of us associated with him are confident that the whole mexican situation will be cleared up within ninety days. we believe that to rule the country is a one-man job. and in that time we expect that one man to come forward and unite the country. general huerta does not care to indicate the man he has in mind, but he is from our viewpoint a true patriot, and naturally that excludes both carranza and villa. "general huerta may or may not return to mexico some day, and may or may not hold office there again. at present he is giving himself up wholly to an agreeable and home life in this city (new york)." whether or not general huerta was to "return to mexico some day" depended upon the temper of the united states. he knew that when he authorized the statement. he did not know--or else he was incredibly bold--that the government was in possession of the whole story, and that orders had been issued from the highest source in the country not to let him return. one day in the late summer he slipped away, ostensibly to visit the san francisco exposition. government agents shadowed him and let him make his own pace. he took the southern route, and traveled so quietly that his flight was not publicly marked until he had passed through kansas city. as he approached the border he became as eager as a boy at the prospect of his 'return from elba'; then, as he was almost in sight of the soil from which he had been exiled, he was arrested on a technical charge and jailed. in august rintelen fled the country. the _providence journal_ had just published an irritating charge that boy-ed was carrying on negotiations with mexico; the german embassy denied the charge, although boy-ed with his knowledge of mexico had assisted ably in the plot; and the excitement of official interest in huerta's recent connections made von rintelen nervous. when he was captured at falmouth by the british, his man-friday, andrew v. meloy, confessed that he had inadvertently tipped over the plot when he had innocently telephoned a carranzista to find out, for safety sake, whether the carranza party suspected huerta. it was this carranzista who made a few inquiries of his own, and succeeded in planting the spy in the holland house meeting. the aged general, although he was transferred to a more comfortable prison, took his confinement bitterly. his dream had been bright indeed, and it had been bluntly interrupted. as the autumn came on his health showed signs of failing, and his career of dissipation began to total the final reckoning. the illness became grave, and after two surgical attempts to save his life, he died in january, , heartbroken. von eckhart, the minister to mexico city, was to mexico what bernstorff was to the united states and he employed faithfully the familiar tactics of his superior: revolution, editorial propaganda, filibustering and double dealing. in the fall of the fine german hand could be seen prompting a note sent by mexico to the united states urging an embargo on the shipment on munitions and foodstuffs to the warring nations (mexico had neither foodstuffs nor munitions to supply). and in december, , eckhart was robbed of the achievement of a conspiracy of fantastic proportions. in order to appreciate the fantasy, one must bear in mind the temperament of a central american. eckhart and his colleague, lehmann, german minister to guatemala, proposed to harness that temperament to a german wagon and drive the latin republics to the formation of "the united states of central america," which presumably would have borne a prussian eagle in the field of its ensign. carranza disliked cabrera of guatemala; so, too, did dr. irias, a nicaraguan liberal. certain factions in honduras disapproved of their president; certain factions in guatemala could be counted on to support revolution against cabrera; dr. irias, the defeated candidate, disliked emiliano chammorra, the president of nicaragua, enormously. what more natural than that they combine forces and with german money and arms kindle not one revolution but a series of them, with an invasion thrown in for good measure? accordingly they conferred with a salvadorean politician, a cuban revolutionist, and an associate of the costa rican minister of war. the cast complete, they planned to assemble revolutionary forces, with german military advisers, on the coast of salvador. using salvador as a base, attacks were to be made upon nicaragua and guatemala, and at the proper time carranza was to invade guatemala from the north. colombia's services were to be enlisted by the promise of restoration of the republic of panama--originally a colombian province. as soon as the combined revolutionaries had succeeded in overthrowing their governments, they were to form the united states of central america, with irias as president, and william of hohenzollern as counsel. our levity is pointed not at the central american temperament and political instability, but rather towards the grotesquely serious objective of the german plotters. if their military forces had been prussian shock troops they would certainly have succeeded. the use of a mexican gunboat to transport german officers with an airplane and wireless apparatus from mexico to salvador exposed the plan. president cabrera of guatemala had a small but effective force of thirty thousand men, and a well-equipped artillery, armed--and he was prepared for attack from either frontier. he also enjoyed the confidence of washington, and he informed washington at once what was afoot. the answer arrived presently in the shape of the american fleet, on a peaceful expedition to survey the gulf of fonseca, its newly acquired nicaraguan naval base. the revolutions failed for want of revolutionists, the german enterprise failed for want of revolutions, and of the conspirators only one, tinoco of costa rica, succeeded in capitalizing the unrest by a _coup d'etat_ which made him president. the plot never reached maturity in colombia or panama. before dismissing it from consideration, however, it is worth a moment's analysis. with any degree of success it would have distracted the united states, and perhaps have involved her marine corps as well as her navy. it contained possibilities of war between mexico and the united states. it projected a blow at the panama canal. it concerned a territory in which commercially as well diplomatically the united states had definite concern and in which germany had already shown a greedy interest. incidentally it reveals--in its offer to colombia--the same diplomatic technique as that which was shortly to startle the united states into the last step towards war, the so-called "zimmermann note." at a. m. (berlin time) on january , , the following message was sent by wireless to count von bernstorff from the foreign office: "berlin, january , . "on the first of february we intend to begin submarine warfare unrestricted. in spite of this it is our endeavor to keep neutral the united states of america. "if this is not successful we propose an alliance on the following basis with mexico: that we shall make war together and together shall make peace. we shall give general financial support and it is understood that mexico is to recover the lost territory in new mexico, texas and arizona. the details are left to you for settlement. "you are also instructed to inform the president of mexico of the above in the greatest confidence as soon as it is certain there will be an outbreak of war with the united states and suggest that the president of mexico on his own initiative should communicate with japan suggesting adherence at once to this plan; at the same time offer to mediate between germany and japan. "please call to the attention of the president of mexico that the employment of ruthless submarine warfare now promises to compel england to make peace in a few months. "(signed) zimmermann." this document was decoded from the official dictionary cipher and laid in the hands of president wilson almost immediately following the rupture of diplomatic relations. it was made public on february , when the public temper was at whitest heat. mexico did not repudiate the note at once, and four days later despatched a denial of having received any such proposal as zimmermann had suggested. eckhart was forcing carranza's hand with the lure of the projected central american enterprise already outlined. (eckhart had had carranza so completely under his influence at one time that when the united states despatched to mexico a friendly note warning her of the presence of german submarines in the gulf, mexico retorted--at eckhart's literal dictation--that the united states might do well to ask the british navy why it did not prevent german undersea craft from approaching the americas.) the month of march fled by, and america went to war; since that date no official expression except one of praise for mexico's attitude of amiable neutrality has issued from washington. just as the proximity of mexico to the united states had for a number of years past carried with it the possibility, almost the certainty, of differences between the two countries, rising out of the temperamental differences of their peoples, so for a longer period had ireland and england suffered for their contiguity. it is a truism to remark that the irishman cherishes his national grievances, but that characteristic accounts for a further phase of german intrigue on american soil. hatred of england sent many thousands of irish to the united states in the past fifty years. they found it a country to their liking, which england was not, and although they had become indissolubly attached to their adopted land, there were in america in (and there are in ) numerous irish who had no dearer wish than that england come off second best in the great war. allies after germany's own heart they were, therefore. they had been cultivated long since: in , when plans were being made for a centenary celebration in of the peace that had reigned between the united states and england, german-american and irish-american interests began to raise a structure of their own, exploiting the prominence which certain germans, such as franz sigel and carl schurz, had enjoyed in the construction of the nation. the programme of these interests included the erection of elaborate memorials over the graves of prominent german americans, the dissemination of legends of german heroes in america, and more practically the frustrating of the projected peace centenary. many of the organizations thus united for a practical purpose found a clearing-house in the american truth society, of which jeremiah o'leary was the head. although the centennial celebration itself was rudely interrupted by the advent of war, the german-irish acquaintanceship was nourished by the german propagandists in america. they observed with pleasure the circulation by the clan-na-gael of cards informing the irish in america that troops from erin were being assigned to the most dangerous posts and the bloodiest attacks and subjected to the most severe enemy fire in france, and that the hated british were dragging irish boys from their homes to fill up the ranks. between september, , and april, , funds amounting to $ , for the purchase of arms and the printing of seditious papers and leaflets were forwarded from america to dublin banks, and then mysteriously were withdrawn. an inflammatory publication known as _bull_, published by o'leary, and not barred from the mails until september, , went broadcast over the united states, inciting bitterness against england, and found a greedy circle of readers in the german-american population. john devoy, a sinn feiner of standing in america, fanned the flame with a newspaper known as the _gaelic american_, published in new york, and it is this american-printed sheet which furnished the irish revolutionists with material for a part of the plot which they were preparing for fruition in the year . [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ jeremiah a. o'leary] in sir roger casement, an irish knight, made his way into germany. he was permitted to visit the prison camp at limburg where some , irish prisoners of war were quartered, and he moved about among them attempting to obtain enlistments in an army which was to effect a coup in dublin to overthrow the british government in the castle and to proclaim an irish republic. he circulated numerous copies of the _gaelic american_ to arouse the men. he was variously received. some of the prisoners held their release worth treason--but only fifty-odd. the greater majority rejected sir roger's offer, and some even chose to curse and spit at the suggestion that they break their oaths of allegiance to great britain. he succeeded, however, in enlisting german financial assistance, and in early april, , a cargo of captured russian arms and ammunition was forwarded to kiel and loaded into the german auxiliary steamship _aud_. some , revolutionists were in a state of mental if not martial mobilization in ireland by this time. there were in dublin some rifles. but so cleverly were the volunteers' orders passed from member to member, that sir matthew nathan, under-secretary of state for ireland, testified later that he did not know until three days before the outbreak occurred that german interests were coöperating. evidently, however, sympathizers in america knew it full well, for in the von igel papers captured in von papen's office in new york was found the following message to von bernstorff: "new york, april , . "judge cohalan requests the transmission of the following remarks: "the revolution in ireland can only be successful if supported from germany, otherwise england will be able to suppress it, even though it be only after hard struggles. therefore, help is necessary. this should consist primarily of aerial attacks in england and a diversion of the fleet, simultaneously with irish revolution. then, if possible, a landing of troops, arms, and ammunition in ireland, and possibly some officers from zeppelins. this would enable the irish ports to be closed against england and the establishment of stations for submarines on the irish coast and the cutting off of the supply of food for england. the services of the revolution may therefore decide the war. "he asks that a telegram to this effect be sent to berlin." presumably such a telegram was sent, although on april sir roger, with his recruits, was at kiel. three days before the berlin press bureau had authorized the issuance of a despatch through the semi-official overseas news agency that "political rioting in ireland is increasing." on the same day a news item was published in copenhagen stating that sir roger had been arrested in germany to allay any suggestion that he was engaged in any other enterprise. on the afternoon of thursday, april , a german submarine stuck its conning tower out of water off tralee, on the irish coast. three men presently emerged, unfolded a collapsible boat, and rowed ashore in it. the three were casement and two of his henchmen, come home to ireland to spread the news that german arms and german aid were at hand. off the southwest coast the patrol ship _bluebell_ of the british navy sighted, on good friday morning, a ship flying the norwegian flag, and calling herself, in answer to the _bluebell's_ hail, the _aud_, out of bergen for genoa. under the persuasive effect of a warning shot from the _bluebell_ the _aud_ followed her as far as daunt's rock, where her crew of german sailors set fire to her, hoisted the german naval ensign, abandoned ship, and then surrendered under fire. the _aud_ sank, carrying the arms for irish revolution with her. sir roger was arrested in hiding, and on easter sunday dublin broke out in revolt. on monday a cipher message reached o'leary, telling him of the uprising hours before the british censor permitted the news story to cross the ocean. john devoy burst out in a heated charge in the _gaelic american_ that-- "the sinking of the german ship loaded with arms and ammunition ... was the direct result of information treacherously given to the british government by a member of the washington administration ... wilson's officials obtained the information by an act of lawlessness, a violation of international law and of american law, committed with the deliberate purpose of helping england, and it was promptly put at the disposal of the british government...." this charge was denied at once from washington. the specific "violation of international law and of american law" to which devoy referred was generally supposed to be the seizure of the von igel papers, for the accusation is the same as that which von igel made when his office was raided. how devoy knew that the von igel papers contained information of the proposed expedition from kiel to ireland is a question which devoy has no doubt had to answer to the government of the united states since then. he and o'leary, with dennis spellisy, who had collected large sums of money for the sinn fein cause, were loud in their protests against the execution of the ringleaders of the revolt on may rd, which put a sharp end to the endeavors of the revolutionists. that o'leary was known to the german system of secret agents in america needs no further substantiation. to credit him with generalship, however, would be doing him too great honor and the irish-american population injustice; o'leary was bitterly pro-german, but so were hundreds of more prominent and influential irish-americans: one could find the names of several new york justices upon the roster of the friends of peace. sir roger casement petitioned for a philadelphia lawyer at his trial for treason, and sir roger's sister attempted unsuccessfully to reach president wilson, through his secretary, joseph p. tumulty, in an effort to bring about intercession in the doomed knight's favor. (mr. tumulty was approached more than once by persons whom he had reason to suspect of alloyed motives who desired to "set forth a case to the president.") the link between the old country and the new is close, the future of ireland is one of more than usual interest and concern to the united states, and the fact that the great majority of irish-americans have subordinated their insular convictions to the greater conviction of loyalty to their adopted land is at once a fine augury of ultimate solution of the irish question, and a dignified rebuke to the efforts which germany has made through america to exploit ireland. on washington's birthday, , there came to new york one who posed as a french publisher and publicist. he brought excellent letters of recommendation, and was well supplied with money. he was personable, and well sponsored, and he was correspondingly well received. within a month he left the united states for france, with appropriate expressions of his appreciation of american hospitality. in april, , that same man faced a french firing squad, guilty of having attempted to betray his country, and of having traded with the enemy. he was paul bolo pacha, paul bolo by common usage, pacha by whatever right is vested in a deposed khedive to confer titles. born somewhere in the obscurity of the levant, he came as a boy to marseilles. he was successively barber's-boy, lobster-monger, husband of a rich woman who left him her estate, then café-owner and wine-agent. then he drifted to cairo, and into the good graces of abbas hilmi, the khedive. abbas was deposed by the british in as pro-german, and went to geneva; bolo followed. charles f. bertelli, the correspondent in paris of the hearst newspapers, naïvely related before captain bouchardon, a french prosecutor, the circumstances of his acquaintanceship with bolo, which led to the latter's cordial reception at the hands of hearst when he arrived in new york. " ... jean finot, directeur of _la revue_, ... had sent him a letter of introduction to mr. hearst and had requested me to accredit him with mr. hearst. he had said to me: 'occupy yourself with the matter, bolo has very great political power; he is the proprietor of _le journal_ and it would be well that hearst should know him.' ... i made the voyage with bolo.... i spoke of bolo to hearst and the latter said to me, 'if he is a great proprietor of french newspapers, i should be very glad to....' as a compliment to hearst, bolo gave a grand dinner at sherry's.... bolo had two personal guests: jules bois and the german, pavenstedt...." we need draw on bertelli no further than to introduce the same adolph pavenstedt in whose offices papen and boy-ed had sought refuge at the outbreak of war in ; adolph pavenstedt, head of the banking house of g. amsinck & co., through which the attachés paid their henchmen for attempts at the welland canal, the vanceboro bridge, and at america's peace in general. bolo had made pavenstedt's acquaintance in havana in . four days after he landed in new york, and before the hearst dinner (which was incidental to the plot) bolo had progressed with his negotiations to betray france to a point where von bernstorff sent the following message to the foreign office in berlin: "number , february twenty-sixth. "i have received direct information from an entirely trustworthy source concerning a political action in one of the enemy countries which would bring about peace. one of the leading political personalities of the country in question is seeking a loan of one million seven hundred thousand dollars in new york, for which security will be given. i was forbidden to give his name in writing. the affair seems to me to be of the greatest possible importance. can the money be provided at once in new york? that the intermediary will keep the matter secret is entirely certain. request answer by telegram. a verbal report will follow as soon as a trustworthy person can be found to bring it to germany. "bernstorff." [illustration: _copyright, international film service_ paul bolo pacha (on the right)] herr von jagow felt that even at that date peace with any belligerent was worth $ , , . he cabled back: "no. , february twenty-ninth. "answer to telegram no. : "agree to the loan, but only if peace action seems to you a really serious project, as the provision of money in new york is for us at present extraordinarily difficult. if the enemy country is russia have nothing to do with the business, as the sum of money is too small to have any serious effect in that country. so too in the case of italy, for it would not be worth while, to spend so much. "(signed) jagow." the plan approved, the next step was to pay bolo. bernstorff's cablegram of march , number , pleaded for the money. "please instruct deutsches bank to hold , , marks at disposal of hugo schmidt. the affair is very promising. further particulars follow." the next day hugo schmidt, american representative of the deutsches bank, sent the following wireless through the station at sayville to the deutsches bank direktion, berlin: "communicate with william foxley (the foreign office) and telegraph whether he has placed money at my disposal for charles gladhill (count von bernstorff)." the reply came three days later. it read: "replying your cable about charles gladhill (von bernstorff) fred hooven (the guaranty trust company of new york) will receive money for our account. you may dispose according to our letter of november , , to fred hooven." on march , schmidt, who was working night and day to consummate the deal, wirelessed again to berlin: "your wireless received. paid charles gladhill (von bernstorff) $ (which signified $ , ) through fred hooven (the guaranty trust company). gladhill requires further $ , ($ , , ) which shall pay gradually." bolo's affairs were promising well. he had brought with him from paris a letter of introduction to the new york manager of the royal bank of canada, stating that he was the publisher of _le journal_, which required a large quantity of news print paper every day, and that he had been commissioned by all of the other large newspaper publishers in paris to arrange a contract for , tons monthly. bolo confirmed his intention to perform this mission when he deposited in the royal bank of canada $ , which hugo schmidt had drawn from the german government deposits in the national park bank and had given to pavenstedt, who in turn checked it over to the french traitor. it was not the purchase of print paper which interested him, however, but the perversion, through purchase, of as many french newspapers as he could lay his slimy hands on; once in his possession, they could be made to carry out a sinister propaganda for a separate peace between france and germany. germany had offered, through abbas hilmi, to yield alsace-lorraine in return for certain french colonies, and to evacuate the occupied portions of french soil, and by painting such a settlement in bright colors to the people of france bolo could have served germany's ends effectively either by actually accomplishing some such settlement, or by weakening the morale which was so largely responsible for holding the german drive against verdun, then in the first stages of its fury. on march , the deutsches bank wirelessed to schmidt: "you may dispose on fred hooven (the guaranty trust company) on behalf charles gladhill (von bernstorff) $ , (which meant $ , , )." bolo had his million and three-quarters, which he had asked. he had made disposition of it through the royal bank, setting a portion aside to his wife's credit, depositing another portion to the credit of senator charles humbert (part-owner with bolo of _le journal_) and holding a reserve of a million dollars in the royal bank subject to his call. then he took ship for france. his final arrangements with pavenstedt prompted von bernstorff to send the following message on march to the foreign office: "no. , march . "with reference to telegram no. please advise our minister in berne that some one will call on him who will give him the password sanct regis who wished to establish relations with the foreign office. intermediary further requests that influence may be brought to bear in france so far as possible in silence so that things may not be spoiled by german approval. "(signed) bernstorff." von bernstorff had been cautious enough during bolo's sojourn in the united states to negotiate with him only through pavenstedt, in order that the embassy might not be compromised in an exceedingly hazardous undertaking if any suggestion of bolo's real designs leaked out. he was fully prepared in such an event to repudiate pavenstedt, and to state honestly that he had never seen or heard of bolo, for until the day before he left, when pavenstedt asked the ambassador for the telegram of introduction quoted above, bernstorff did not know bolo's name. that he did know it then, and that he discussed bolo with berlin during april and may is evident from the following cable, sent from the foreign secretary to the embassy at washington on may : "number . may st. the person announced in telegram of march th has not yet reported himself at the legation at berne. is there any more news on your side of bolo? "jagow." there was not, although bolo was keeping the cables hot with messages directing the further transfer of the nest-egg of $ , , which he had acquired in his month in new york. he wanted the money credited to the account of senator humbert in j. p. morgan & co., then through morgan, harjes & co. of paris he directed the remittance of his funds to paris, then cancelled those instructions and directed that his million be credited to him in perrier & cie., in which he was interested. what twists and turns of fate occasioned the juggling of these funds after he returned to france is not known, but certainly no bag of plunder ever passed through more artful manipulation. the explanation of its hectic adventures may lie in the fact that the spectacle of bolo, commissioned to go to the united states to spend money for news print, and returning with nearly two millions of dollars, would have interested the french police. for more than a year he covered his tracks. shortly after his return the _bonnet rouge_, the declining publication which served ex-premier joseph caillaux as mouthpiece, began to attract attention for its discussion of peace propaganda. a strain of pessimism over the conduct of the war began to make itself apparent in other journals. the arrest of duval and almereyda of the _bonnet rouge_ disclosed certain of bolo's activities and a search of his house in february revealed papers covering certain of his financial transactions in america. the united states was requested to investigate, and refused, as the affair was considered political, and it was not until we joined france in the war that the request was repeated, this time with better success. attorney-general merton lewis of new york state conducted an investigation which revealed every step of bolo's operations in new york. his search of the records of the banks involved indicated that a fund of some $ , , in cash and negotiable securities lay on deposit in america which the deutsches bank could place at the disposal of von bernstorff and his fellow conspirators at any time for any purpose, and which was adequate as a reserve for any enterprise which might present itself. the evidence against bolo was forwarded to paris, and he was arrested. on october , , secretary lansing made public the correspondence which the state department had intercepted. the french public became hysterically interested in the case. senator humbert promptly refunded the , , francs which he had received from bolo for , shares in _le journal_. almereyda of the _bonnet rouge_ committed suicide in prison; his death dragged malvy, minister of the interior under ribot, out of office under suspicion of trading with the enemy; the editor of a paris financial paper was imprisoned on the same charge; "boloism" became a generic term, and the french government, feeling a growing restlessness on the part of the public, encouraged the new diversion of spy-hunting which resulted in the exposure of negotiations between caillaux and german representatives in buenos aires. russia had been dissolved by similar german propaganda, italy, after vigorous advances into italia irridenta, had had her military resistance sapped by another such campaign as bolo proposed for france, and had retreated to the po valley; the sum total of "boloism" during the autumn and winter of - was an increased conviction on the part of the allied peoples that the line must be held more firmly than ever, while the rear was combed for prominent traitors. thus, a year before she entered war, the united states supplied the scene of one of the outstanding intrigues of the war. how voluble was adolph pavenstedt in confessing his services as intermediary for the kaiser; pavenstedt was interned in an american prison camp ... a rather comfortable camp. hugo schmidt, who on his own testimony was the accredited manipulator of enormous sums for the german government, was ingenuous to a degree in his denial of any knowledge of what the money paid bolo was to be used for; schmidt was interned. bolo was shot. revolution in india, a battle royal on the central american isthmus, a revolution in mexico, uprisings in the west indies, a separate peace in france--these were ambitious undertakings. for three years they were cleared through washington, d. c. we must accept that fact not alone with the natural feeling of chagrin which it evokes, but with an eye to the future. we should congratulate our smug selves that our country was concerned only with the processes of these intrigues, and was not subject directly to their results. and then we americans should ask ourselves whether it is not logical that, our country having served as the most fertile ground for german demoralization of other nations, we should be on our guard for a similar plot against ourselves. that plot will not come noisily, obviously. it will be no crude effort to suggest that "american troops are suffering at the hands of the french high command." it will not be phrased in terms which reek of the wilhelmstrasse--earnest, plodding, grotesque german polysyllables. the german knows that an army must depend upon the hearts of its people, and he reasons: "i shall attack the hearts of the people, and i believe that if it is a good principle to attack my enemy from the rear through his people, it is also a good principle to attack his people from the rear. the heart is as near the back as it is the front, _nicht wahr_?" the plot will seem, in its early stages, part and parcel of our daily life and concern; we shall not see the german hand in it; the hand will be so concealed as not even to excite the enthusiasm of the german-american, often a good danger-signal. it will involve institutions and individuals whom we have trusted, and we shall take sides in the controversy, and we shall grow violently pro-this and anti-that. we shall grow sick of the wretchedness of affairs, perhaps, and we shall lose heart. that is precisely what germany most desires. that is what germany is striving for. that is why the nobility of our citizenship carries with it the obligation of vigilance. it is in the hope that each one of us americans may learn how germany works abroad, that we may be better prepared for her next step here, that this narrative has been written. chapter xviii america goes to war bernstorff's request for bribe-money--the president on german spies--interned ships seized--enemy aliens--interning german agents--the water-front and finger-print regulations--pro-german acts since april, --a warning and a prophecy. on january , , president wilson set forth to the senate of the united states his ideas of the steps necessary to secure world peace. on the same day count von bernstorff sent his foreign office this message: "i request authority to pay out up to $ , (fifty thousand dollars) in order, as on former occasions, to influence congress through the organization you know of, which perhaps can prevent war. i am beginning in the meantime to act accordingly. in the above circumstance a public official german declaration in favor of ireland is highly desirable in order to gain the support of irish influence here." the money did not have the desired soothing effect. nine days later germany announced unrestricted submarine warfare as her immediate future policy and the head of the german spy system in america received his passports for return to germany. he was succeeded by the head of the german spy system in america. the real name of this successor is not known to the authorities at this date. if it were he would be arrested, and punished according to whatever specific crime he had committed against a set of american statutes created for conditions of peace. then, with the head of the german spy system in america in prison, he would be succeeded, as bernstorff was, by the head of the german spy system in america. and so this absurd progression would go on, until finally there would be no more spies to head the system on the american front. how much the system would be able to accomplish during the painstaking pursuit and capture of its successive heads would depend upon america's swiftness in pursuit and capture. who the individual in authority over the system is, and what is his structure of organization, cannot be answered here. but it is vitally necessary for every citizen who has the free existence of this republic at heart to decide, basing his judgment on certain events since the declaration of war, what measure of accomplishment the german spy system shall have, and what it has already effected against a nation with which it is now openly and frankly at war. let him first recall that in his flag day speech of june , , president wilson said in part: "there is disloyalty in the united states, and it must be absolutely crushed. it proceeds from a minority, a very small minority, but a very active and subtle minority.... if you could have gone with me through the space of the last two years and could have felt the subtle impact of intrigue and sedition, and have realized with me that those to whom you have intrusted authority are trustees not only of the power but also of the very spirit and purpose of the united states, you would realize with me the solemnity with which i look upon the sublime symbol of our unity and power." let him then refer to the president's flag day address of one year later (quoted at the beginning of the book). with those admirable expressions in mind, let him recapitulate the activities of german sympathizers or agents since february, . ninety-one vessels flying the german flag were in american harbors. their displacement totalled nearly six hundred thousand tons--the equivalent of a fleet of seventy-five of the cargo carriers on which the united states later began construction to offset the submarine. months in advance of the severance of diplomatic relations, orders had been issued from the embassy to the masters of all these vessels in case of war between germany and the united states to cripple the ships. with the break in relations imminent, german agents slipped aboard the vessels and gave the word: the great majority of the ninety-one ships were then put out of commission by the officers and men aboard. the damage was performed with crowbars and axes. vital parts had been chalk-marked weeks in advance, so that the destruction might be effected swiftly: delicate mechanisms were mashed beyond recognition, important parts removed and smuggled ashore or dropped overboard, cylinders cracked, emery dust introduced in the bearings of the engines, pistons battered out of shape, and the machinery of the ships generally destroyed as only skilled engineers could have destroyed them. out of thirty ships in new york harbor, thirty ships were damaged--among them the liners, _vaterland_, of , tons, the _george washington_, of , tons, the _kaiser wilhelm_, the _president lincoln_, and the _president grant_, of about , tons each. in the harbor of charleston, s. c., lay the _liebenfels_, of , tons; her crew, led by captain johann klattenhoff, scuttled her on february , in the navigating channel of charleston harbor; klattenhoff, with paul wierse, a charleston newspaper man, and eight of the _liebenfels'_ crew were tried and convicted of the crime, fined and sentenced to periods averaging a year in atlanta. the discovery of the damage forced the government to take over the vessels at once. the department of justice hastened on february to notify all of its deputies "to take prompt measures against the attempt at destruction or sinking or escape of such ships by their crews" which those crews had already done; and the customs authorities who boarded the ships in san francisco, honolulu, new york, boston, manila, and every other american port came ashore with rueful countenances. the combined damage served to tie the vessels up for at least six months more, and to require expensive repair. to return to the comparison: a fleet of seventy-five , ton cargo vessels, such as have since been built, would have been able to make, during those six months, at least four round trips to france each, or voyages. when the german fleet put into neutral american ports of refuge in the personnel of its ships totalled officers and , men. when the ships were seized in , there were officers and men aboard. of those who had been discharged or allowed indefinite shore leave a considerable number were active german agents, by far the great majority were german citizens, and the united states was on the horns of a dilemma: either each of the sailors ashore must be watched on suspicion, or else each was free to go about the country as he pleased. thus more than , potential secret agents from an active auxiliary arm of the german navy were dumped on the hospitality which our neutrality entailed. when war was declared those men came within the troublesome problem of the status of the enemy alien. what was an enemy alien? the united states, on april , declared war against germany. "meanwhile," reads the report of the attorney-general for , "prior to the passage of the joint resolution of congress of april , , elaborate preparation was made for the arrest of upward of alien enemies whom past investigation had shown to constitute a danger to the peace and safety of the united states if allowed to remain at large." these "alien enemies" were male germans. not austrians, for the united states did not go to war with austria until december . not bulgars, nor turks, for the united states has not declared war upon bulgaria or turkey. not female germans, in the face of the full knowledge of the predilections of bernstorff, boy-ed, and von papen for employing women in espionage. of the thousands of germans in the united states whose sympathies were presently to be demonstrated in numerous ways against the successful prosecution of america's war, sixty-three had been deemed worthy of arrest. by june this number had risen to , and by october to . "some of those, interned," continues the report, "have been paroled with the necessary bonds and restrictions." although the united states went to war on april , karl heynen, who managed the bridgeport projectile company for bernstorff and albert, and who had previously earned the good will of the united states by gun-running in mexico, was not arrested until july , in his offices in the hamburg-american line at broadway. at the same time f. a. borgemeister, former adviser to dr. albert, and latterly heynen's lieutenant, was arrested. both were interned at fort oglethorpe and during december, borgemeister was allowed three weeks' liberty on parole. rudolph hecht, confidant of dr. albert, who had sold german war loan bonds for the kaiser, and who had also been interned, was released for a like period of liberty in december. g. b. kulenkampf, who had secured false manifest papers for the supply-ship _berwind_ in august, , was arrested on may , , more than one year after america had entered the war; on the same day robert j. oberfohren, a statistician employed by the hamburg-american, was arrested and in his room were captured compiled statistics covering the exports of munitions from the united states during the two years past: oberfohren said he expected to turn the figures in to the university of munich after the war. bernstorff himself left an able alien enemy in the swiss legation in washington. he was heinrich schaffhausen, and had been one of the brightest attachés of the german embassy. as a member for three months of the swiss legation he might readily have sent (and no doubt did send) information of military value to his own people in code, under protection of the swiss seal. the state department on july ordered his deportation. adolph pavenstedt was arrested on january , , in the adirondacks, after having enjoyed nine months' immunity; otto julius merkle was not interned until december ; gupta, the hindu, was finally caught in new york in , gave bail, and escaped; dr. john ferrari, alias f. w. hiller, a german officer who had escaped from a british detention camp in india and had joined the german intrigue colony, was interned in january, ; baron gustave von hasperg was arrested only after he had displayed undue interest in the national army cantonment at upton in the same month; franz rosenberg, a wealthy german importer, convicted in of having attempted to smuggle rubber in cotton bales into germany, and fined $ for that offense, was allowed at liberty until february , ; in a round-up which took place in january, , the federal authorities collected such celebrities as hugo schmidt, frederick stallforth, and baron george von seebeck (the son of general von seebeck, commander of the tenth corps of the german army). the cases cited are picked at random out of a mass. they illustrate the breathing periods given to germans who had been active under bernstorff in disturbing america's peace and defying her laws. they serve also to illustrate the contrast between the methods employed by the united states, and those adopted by her allies, from whom she has taken other lessons in the business of warfare. france gave alien enemies forty-eight hours in which to leave the soil of the country, and any such person found at large after that date was to be interned in a detention camp. to have interned all of the germans in the united states would have been impossible and the government took some time to find a second best method. by may the department of justice was in a position to announce that it had plans for internment camps for three classes of aliens: prisoners of war, enemy aliens, and detained aliens, and it announced on that date there were some , in those classes already detained. by february , , however, there were actually no more than , aliens interned under the war department and under military guard at forts mcpherson, oglethorpe and douglas, and some , at hot springs, north carolina, in the department of labor's detention camp. at both camps the prisoners were fed and housed at the expense of the government, and it was not until the early spring of that they were put to work. from april to july , , an enemy alien could be employed by any shipbuilder, tug-boat captain, lighterage firm or steamship line; he could go about any waterfront at will, provided he did not enter the so-called "barred zones" in the vicinity of government military or naval property, and he could make unmolested such observations as his eyesight afforded of the shipping upon which the united states depends for its share in this war. after that date he was forbidden such employment, and denied approach to all wharves and ships. on july the government discharged from its employ german subjects who for weeks past had been loading transports at the docks in an "atlantic port." a raid on the hoboken waterfront in the following winter rounded up more enemy aliens who had calmly ignored the "barred zone" regulations. the government was confronted with a stupendous problem. how to handle with its normal peace-time police force the great unwieldy flow of the alien population presented a constantly baffling question, yet it was absolutely essential to the control of internal affairs that the government know the comings and goings of the enemies within its gates. the date of february , , was eventually set as the last on which citizens of enemy countries living in the united states might set down their finger prints and names and file their affidavits of residence and condition. what facilities had the united states provided for transacting this great volume of additional protective duty? there existed, first of all, the department of justice, whose chief function in peace-time had been the enforcement through its investigators and prosecutors of acts of congress, such as the so-called mann "white slave" act, and the sherman "anti-trust" act. there was the united states secret service, a bureau of the treasury department, whose chief function had been the detection of smuggling and counterfeiting and the protection of the person of the president. there was the intelligence bureau of the war department, and a similar bureau of the navy department, both undermanned, as was every other branch of our military forces at that time. the advent of war brought a complicated necessity for coordination of these four branches and of several other federal investigating bureaus. the german did not wait for coordination. he inspired food riots among the poorer classes of the lower east side in new york. he opposed the draft law, rallying to his support the socialist, the anarchist, and the industrial worker of the world, under whose cloak he hid, not too well concealed. he celebrated the declaration of war by blowing up a munitions plant at eddystone, pa., on april , , and killing persons, most of whom were women and girls. he sneaked information into germany through the swedish legation. he tried to promote strikes in pittsburg, but his agent, walter zacharias, was arrested. he tried to dynamite the elephant-butte dam on the rio grande, but his agent, dr. louis kopf, was caught. he caused a serious revolution in cuba until his agents were expelled. he tried to block the liberty loans, in vain. he tried to obstruct the collection of red cross funds. he caused strikes in the airplane-spruce forests of the northwest. he assisted lieutenant hans berg of the captured german prize _appam_ to escape from fort mcpherson with nine of his crew in october, . he erected secret wireless stations at various points, to communicate to berlin via mexico, whither thousands of his army reservists had fled on false passports at the outbreak of war. he smuggled information of military importance in and out of the country in secret inks, on neutral vessels, and even wrote them (on one occasion) in cipher upon the shoulder of a prima donna. he burned warehouses and shell plants. he sawed the keel of a transport nearly through. he placed a culture of ptomaine germs in the milk supply of the cadets' school at fort leavenworth. he invented a chemical preparation which would cause painful injury to the kidneys of every man who drank water in a certain army cantonment. he received irish rebellionists and negotiated with them for further revolution. he made his way into our munitions plants and secured data which he forwarded to berlin; he worked in our aeroplane plants and deliberately weakened certain vital parts of the tenuous construction so that our aviators died in training; he kept track of our transports, and of the movements of our forces, and passed them on to the wilhelmstrasse. he sold heroin to our soldiers and sailors. he supplied men for the motor boat _alexander agassiz_ which put to sea from a pacific port to raid commerce. in short, he continued to carry out, with multiplied opportunity, the same tactics he had employed since august, . the german spy in america continues to attack our armies in the rear. he is here in force. a word to him may mean that within twenty-four hours kiel will know of another transport embarking with certain forces for france. he is here to take the lives of americans just as certainly as his kinsman is firing across a parapet in lorraine for the same purpose. whatever provision will save those lives must be made swiftly. the departments, already overtaxed with the magnitude of their task, ask simply that they be given the weapons to make their splendid battle on the american front successful. whatever aid and comfort the enemy may find in this recitation of his disgraceful achievements and graceless failures, he may have and welcome. he has imposed upon the hospitality of the united states, has dragged his clumsy boots over the length and breadth of their estate, has run amuck with torch and explosive, and has earned a great deal of loathing contempt, hardly amounting to hatred. but no fear--and that is what he sought. the spectacle of what the disloyalists of america have done, and the easily conjurable picture of what they would do if germany should win, are graphic enough for loyal america. the united states must proceed with incisive vigor to cut out this poisonous german sore. and the united states will remember the scar. it is so written. appendix a german propagandist in fritz von pilis came to america. he had been a member of the colonization bureau of the german government maintained to prussianize poland, and later an emigration agent of the north german lloyd. he posed here as an anti-german austrian who desired to give the american public the "true facts" of germany's intentions in the war. he approached the _sun_, offering it the following brief of a volume written in late by a prussian pan-german, provided he (von pilis) be allowed to write a commentary to accompany the outline. his offer was not accepted, for the _sun_ saw him in his true light of prussian propagandist sent here to spread the gospel of might which is preached in the book. the brief is offered here as an authoritative platform of germany's aims by conquest as the pan-german party saw them after a few months of war. many of these aims have already been achieved. (the phraseology and spelling is von pilis'.) _denkschrift, etc._ _general war goal._ weakening of foes: discard all "world citizen" sentiment and dangerous objectivity in favor of strangers. we want peace terms based solely on our interests. severity: let's hear no more of "considerations of humanity," "cultural demands." must impose indemnities on foes and take land in europe and overseas to lessen political power: (a) in europe for healthy colonization. (b) colonial: to supply raw materials and take finished products. (c) indemnities to be devoted to common social betterment of german people. _internal._ rehabilitation of farmer class by providing ample land. combat city evils. ( ) opportunity provided by fate in this attack by our foes. ( ) france and russia must cede land near our gates as punishment; estates to german farmers. ( ) city evils to be remedied by better housing conditions; by war indemnities, not single tax. (cheap rents, tenants become owners.) (gift of fate through foes.) old age pensions larger and at lower period of age ( years instead of ). _overseas._ take over colonies and settle by germans to give economic independence for imports and exports. this will give opportunities to eliminate "intelligent proletariat" by use elsewhere. _belgium._ conspiracy and conduct of people and government show belgium not entitled to independence. ( ) all well-informed people in germany say: "belgium must cease to exist." ( ) impossible to take into german people with equal rights. rather leave with indemnity which must pay anyway. but we need the coast against england. belgium to be property of empire, kaiser its lord: belgium to lose its name. belgium to be divided into parts: walloons and flemish. kaiser's officials to govern as dictators of province. belgians taken into empire to have no political rights. all who object may emigrate. walloons unworthy of being "germanized." _france._ must "bleed it white" so as never to be attacked again: ( ) i.e., indemnity and land. land from switzerland via belfort, moselle, epinal, toul, meuse, verdun, sedan, charleville, st. quentin to somme and channel at cayeux. ( ) france to take over and indemnify the present inhabitants. we get the land sans dangerous people. such expulsion immoral? retribution. not bricht eisen! france'll be thankful for the population. needs it. ( ) ceded area to become military frontier, administered by dictator. to be settled by germans: discharged soldiers or war veterans' families. ( ) toulon and environs to be made impregnable fortress on land and seaside for base on the mediterranean. rather forego all french territory than take with it the hostile french population. walloons to be kept in land only to furnish mass of laborers, lest new german settlers become industrial laborers again. _england._ its world-rule must be ended! can't formulate demands until naval warfare decided. _build ships with all your might!_ _japan._ must be punished for white race. revenge. _russia._ must be put _hors de combat_ by permanent weakening. we must forcibly once more turn russia's face towards east by curtailing its frontiers as before peter i's time. then its pressure vs. asia. ( ) a new poland (off g. territory) including grodno, minsk and part of mohilen to dnieper. probably a kingdom with personal connection to hapsburg house. ( ) g. to seize hegemony of baltic; take kniland, livona, esthonia and lithuania safeguarded by territories to rivers that were frontiers of r. before peter. ( ) to take suwalki and military strip of poland to strengthen thorn and silesia, soldau, wloclanek kolo. ( ) finland to be independent or go to sweden? ( ) r. to lose most of black sea coast. ( ) ukraine empire under hapsburg for "small russia." bessarabia to rumania. austria to get good part of serbia and montenegro. how avoid clash of nationalities in newly formed territories? ans.: by forced migration. no home feelings in russian farmer; r's precedents siberia. exchange of g. settlers in new russia for r's in new g. (several years). possibly so exchange poles in posen too? lithuanians may readily be incorporated into poland and letts and esthonians to be left or transferred to russia according to treatment of g's in this war. r. jews unthinkable in g. empire: bar their migration westward. remedy ( ) bind r. to remove restrictions vs. jews and then jews back there. ( ) zionism: palestine to be ceded through g. and a-hung. influence. this--safe wall vs. jews and stimulate migration of jews to russia. prussia to get new territory in east or else form "marks" for germanization. tenants to be settled by public grant in return for enhanced realty values. we must never be without enemies strong enough to compel defensive militia. fr. and eng. made powerless, let r. always threaten us and be our foe; that'll be our luck. _the colonies._ french morocco, senegambia & congo. egypt freed from england; england's colonies in africa depend on developments. tunis to italy. bizert and damietta (with italy's and a-h's consent), djibuti, goa, ceylon, sabang, saigon, azores, caperdon (?), isls, madagascar. _austria-hungary._ heavy indemnity from russia. new poland and ukraine empire personally united to a-h. north half of serbia. south / to bulgaria. guarantees to be given to germanic minority by slavs. west galicia to poland. east galicia to ukraine empire. german to be reichsprache? _the neutrals._ luxemburg to win g. statehood (too weak to control b. luxemburg). holland. avoid pressure politically. not to receive flemish belgium. these need strict masters. italy, if neutral, corsica, lower savoy, nizzia, tunis. rumania: bessarabia (odessa, if she joins g. in war). bulgaria: south / of serbia (more if she joins g. in war). turkey, if enters war, heavy indemnity and land in caucasus. integrity guarantees by g. and a-h: spheres of influence economically. sweden may get finland if both willing. economic unity of territories and g. and a-h., switzerland, holland, italy, scandinavia, rumania and bulgaria probably join. offensive and defensive germanic alliance: scandinavia. maybe and voluntarily restore settlements of n. schleswig to denmark, if necessary. new germanic blood needed to make good war losses. _special demands._ exclusion of all east people from g. soil; rights to expel letts, esthonians and lithuanians for years. no colored person on g. soil. g. high schools for g's and foreigners of g. descent; special exceptions. only allied officers to be in g. army. only mature and fortified g. youth to study abroad. only g. language, g. fashions, g. geographical names. steady supply of grain. subsidies to married officers out of war indemnity. g. nobles to marry only germans. aviation ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the sky pilot's great chase or jack ralston's dead stick landing by ambrose newcomb author of "the sky detectives," "eagles of the sky," "wings over the rockies," etc. published by the goldsmith publishing co. chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright the goldsmith publishing co. made in u.s.a. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i the clang of the fire-bell ii trapped by the flames iii bridging the gap iv the rescue v at the flying field vi a blow in the dark vii perk hears thrilling news viii the take-off ix a broken paddle x in a snug harbor xi a stormy night xii the lay-over at spokane xiii over the mountain trails xiv the bootleg pack-mule train xv winging into the northland xvi baffled by head winds xvii jack's dead-stick landing xviii around the campfire xix perk gets a shock xx the fur-trading station xxi old jimmy, the factor xxii picking up clues xxiii the northwest mounted police xxiv ready to start xxv an overnight bivouac xxvi the wolf pack xxvii on the dangerous trail xxviii dodging the lookout xxix the hawk at bay xxx back over the border--conclusion ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the sky pilot's great chase chapter i the clang of the fire bell "well, i kinder guess now this here little ol' ho-tel in salt lake city's got our experience in cheyenne knocked all to flinders. good room, twin beds that keep you from hoggin' all the covers on a cool night an' as to _eats_, say it's sure prime stuff, though mebbe i ain't no judge 'long any line 'cept quantity. how 'bout it, jack, ol' hoss?" the happy-go-lucky speaker was an old friend of ours, one perk, and the companion to whom he addressed his question was his bosom pal, jack ralston of the u. s. secret service. nevertheless, it seemed that perk was now known as gabe smith, a woods guide of wide experience who in the course of his wanderings had managed to pick up a smattering of aviation, a particularly useful thing in these air-minded days. and jack, whenever there was a third party within hearing, was always referred to as mr. john jacob astorbilt, a wideawake young millionaire sportsman always seeking novel thrills hunting big game by means of the latest type airship. all this had a good and sufficient reason back of it, which will be placed before the reader ere we have gone deeply into this log covering the latest undertaking of the two redoubtable sky detectives. "oh! things suit me okay, perk," was jack's rather indifferent reply, as he smiled at his companion's grinning, enthusiastic face. "somehow i don't seem to set quite as much store by my meals as you do but i'll say the food is pretty decent--better than the restaurant stuff we used to eat three times a day over in old cheyenne." "hot ziggety dog! i should say so. but what tickles me most of all, partner, is the dandy ship uncle sam turned over to us after we climbed out o' all that hot stuff down on the west coast o' florida. she's a genuine cloud-chaser, boy, an' don't take any guy's dust--am i right 'bout that, boss?" "i'll admit she's a prize boat and no mistake. able to drop down on land or water and with skis in place could do the same on a frozen lake or the deepest snow the northland ever saw. yes, it would be hard to beat our ship, perk." "right up to date she is. look at the shiny aluminum pontoons an' rubber tired wheels peekin' out from the bow ends. the hamilton propeller that does its stuff to the dot; a real hasler telmot flight meter; aluminum oil tanks so light and yet so strong; earth-inducter compass next to infallible; eclipse starter--gosh amighty, if there's a single thing worth its salt that our ship ain't got i'd like to hear 'bout it." jack laughed. he had a whole-souled laugh that did any one good just to hear it--kind of gave you a warm feeling and seemed to draw you into friendly relations with the clear-eyed young aviator. "just one thing lacking, partner, in the round-up if you stop to think of it. we felt the need of it on our last jaunt[ ] when in the midst of the most dreadful fog-belt either of us had ever struck, we climbed to a ten thousand foot ceiling only to have ice begin to form on our wings. haven't forgotten that, eh, perk old fellow?" "ginger pop an' the weasel! i guess now i ain't. you've crabbed my game, buddy, that's what you've done. but as we ain't, so far, been sent to the south pole to help get an explorer out o' his bad fix in the ice, i kinder guess we don't need that ice meltin' device much. got to draw a line somewhere you know, boss, else the ship'll be so loaded down with new contraptions there won't be any storage room for the grub-pile!" "and sure enough that's where the shoe would pinch, perk. grub, and plenty of it is the real necessity to have aboard. it bobs up just three times a day right along and with mighty long waits between according to your way of looking at it." "you said it, partner! i've tried goin' shy on the eats but it don't seem to work worth a red cent. right away there's a mutiny breaks put under the midship hatch an' i jest _got_ to surrender. but, to change the subject, i'm botherin' my poor brain tryin' to figger out which way we'll face when the orders come breezin' along?" jack chuckled as he lolled back in his comfortable easy-chair for they chanced to be sitting in their third-floor hotel room while engaging in this little confab. "it's a toss-up i'd say, perk," he remarked a bit mysteriously. "you know the whole wide world is our hunting ground as you've so often boasted. international crooks breed a like species of detectives. when they take to flying, the secret service has to go them one better. our familiarity with airships helped to rustle this job for us and we've got to make good, no matter whether we fly to japan, india, south africa or any other old country under the sun." perk displayed the proper amount of enthusiasm as this wide subject came along, for his eyes sparkled, and he grinned broadly. "you bet, jack ol' hoss," he blurted out, "an' like's not the slick way we put through that last deal down on the west florida coast, fetchin' the king o' booze smugglers back with us to the bar o' justice has made us solid with the head at washington."[ ] "i shouldn't wonder buddy," was all jack said, not being given to blowing his own horn as perk often did, being only human as he would explain, and knowing a good thing when he saw it. "we dropped in at this 'ere airport," perk continued, "'cordin' to orders a hull week back, sailin' under new names to hide our identities an' here we be, killin' time an' waitin' to make a bee line for any place that happens to be in need o' cleanin' up. we're the boss outfit for that sorter job, on'y i'd give a heap to know what's what." "that's a weakness of yours, perk. now in my case it doesn't give me one minute's uneasiness. whether i'm working in paris, cairo or timbuktu makes no difference, i calculate on getting enough to eat, pick up plenty of sleep and beat the game if its possible. nothing else will satisfy me, as you pretty well know, brother." "when i happen to wake up in the small hours o' the night, jack, i just get bothered 'bout the next layout and sometimes wonder if i'm right then an' there across the pacific or playin' a swift game down in nicaragua f'r instance. feels a whole lot like we might be reg'lar gypsies, changin' our camp every night." "well, what of it?" demanded jack, looking vastly amused. "it wouldn't be the first time that name was applied to me for you remember when i first broke into this game it was as a gypsy pilot, doing stunts with my 'chute at county fairs and harvest homes all around the country. that name always did sound kind of sweet in my ears. i like it to this day, in fact." "mebbe now, it might be that you could give a sorter guess 'bout that job we're goin' to have tacked on to us right away? how 'bout it, old hoss?" "oh! that doesn't concern me one whit, perk. just hold your horses and take things as they come. there's a bit of fun being kept in the dark about these affairs. makes me think of the times we used to have grab-bags at church fairs, when you paid a penny or a nickel and pulled out something queer. say, didn't we feel a great big thrill just before making the grab? take things easy and let the folks at headquarters do most of the worrying. that's what i call logic, buddy." "huh! mebbe so," grunted perk, eyeing his comrade quizzically as though more than half suspecting that if jack chose, at least he could give a fairly good guess covering their next thrilling assignment. "but that sorter philosophy don't cut any figger when i lie awake nights cudgelin' my slow-workin' brains an' tryin' to get the answer. but then, like as not, we ain't goin' to stick to this queer old burg much longer an' i sure do hope the wire givin' us full directions in cipher comes along right soon." jack ralston, as the readers of the three preceding stories in this series of sky detective adventures already know, had been building up quite an enviable reputation in the secret service of the government, being entrusted with a number of the most important tasks that were cropping up from time to time. these necessitated not only a cool head, quick decisions and plenty of nerve, but also demanded a thorough knowledge of aeronautics, since many malefactors in these very modern days were taking to the air in order to facilitate their unlawful operations so that it had become necessary to meet them on their own grounds and go them one better. his best pal was gabe perkiser, whose odd name was usually shortened to perk. he was fully ten years older than jack and at the time our country entered the world war chanced to be connected with the balloon corps so that for some time he found himself a manipulator of an observation balloon, better known as a "sausage." tiring of this monotonous life, the active perk took up aviation. here he was in his element and few there were during those mad months when the american army was breaking the hindenburg line and pushing through the terrible thickets and machine-gun nests of the argonne, who attained a higher rating as a fearless pilot than gabe perkiser. he had numerous glorious victories to his credit, having sent down many enemy flyers in blazing coffins but eventually met with a serious mishap that sent him to a field hospital and kept him out of the rest of that frightful campaign. recovering in due time, perk had come back to the states bent on securing some sort of employment that would give him all the excitement his system demanded. this he found when he joined the northwest mounted police of canada. the fact that one of his parents had been born across the line while the other was a maine yankee, gave perk the opening he desired and his yearning for adventure after that was never left unsatisfied. but after a while he even began to tire of such a lonely life as his duties entailed and floated down once more to the country of his birth. there by some happy accident jack ran across him and recognizing a kindred spirit, he induced perk to apply for a position in the secret service. still later, when he had been detailed to make use of his ability as an air pilot to carry on with a certain job that had been placed in his hands, jack remembered perk. it was essential that he have an assistant aboard his ship and so he negotiated matters so that perk was ordered to report to him and act as co-pilot for an indefinite length of time, an arrangement that gave both the greatest satisfaction possible. they were after all a well matched pair. what one lacked the other possessed in abundance. jack was able to hold his more impulsive comrade in check when safety first became their watchword, and on the other hand when a show of dash and vigor was the order of the day, perk was apt to take the lead and strike terror in the hearts of the enemy. naturally enough inaction became irksome to perk and he fretted because he loathed remaining quiet when his whole system was calling for accomplishing things. jack, of course, was the one who laid out the plan of campaign, he being much better fitted for such essential matters. perk on the other hand really needed some one above to give him the order and check his impulsiveness on occasion. so they got on together admirably, and worked like a well matched team. to be sure jack sometimes knew a bit more than he chose to tell perk but he always had good and sufficient reasons for holding back such information and his lack of knowledge, until such time as his leader saw fit to take him wholly into his confidence, did perk no harm whatever. it did, however, cause him to lie awake nights wondering and speculating as to what would be next on the program. he would try his best to tempt jack to commit himself but all to no purpose, for the other put him off with one plea or another with perk returning to the attack time and again. they had had their wonderfully efficient plane lodged in a hangar out at the flying field where just so often each day an air-mail pilot was scheduled to arrive or depart with the letter sacks of the post office department. this courtesy had been bestowed upon them by a mr. spencer gibbons a private flyer and a man of considerable means who came and went as his fancy dictated. he had met jack while the latter, under strict injunctions from the department, was posing as a young and enthusiastic air-minded millionaire and had given him the use of the single-ship hangar while he, gibbons, was off on a jaunt that took him down to the mexican border, but as he was expected back at any time now they had changed the location of their amphibian that same afternoon. it now rested secure in another nearby hangar that happened to be empty and which jack could hire, being liberally supplied with funds by his generous employer, uncle sam. this was only a minor incident, and yet it was fated to play an important part in the general network of things, and hence to be the cause of many speculations on the part of the two chums. perk, acting under the direction of his mate, had taken a vast amount of pleasure in loading up a supply of commodities. these consisted of the ordinary supplies, such as an old and experienced camper would be apt to put down on his list and possibly a few special dainties that particularly appealed to perk's appetite and which he meant to spring upon his fellow flyer at some convenient time when both of them happened to be ravenously hungry and there came a chance to build a cooking fire. then too, it was always their day by day plan to keep a full stock of fuel and lubricating oil aboard their boat since there never would be much warning given them when the order to hop-off came by telegraph. they seldom allowed a favorable flying day to pass by without going aloft in order to keep in practice and also be certain the precious ship was in first class condition for immediate service. as they had not had possession of the wonder plane for any great length of time, jack was always finding out some fresh discovery calculated to increase his admiration for his craft and evoke a volley of expressions from the voluble perk. the sun had already set and dusk was beginning to gather, telling them it was about time to descend to the dining room and partake of their customary evening meal. after that perk would doubtless wander around to the nearest moving-picture palace and allow his feverish soul to have full swing in the excitement depicted on the silver screen. just then there came along one of those little incidents that sometimes turn out to have unsuspected potentialities. perk seemed to catch it first, for he jumped up and broke loose by crying: "hear that, partner? the fire alarm as sure as you're born and me, always like a little kid, crazy to run with the engine and watch the fire boys go through with their thrillin' stunts. come along, buddy--supper c'n wait a bit for us an' we'll be all the hungrier at that. snatch up your hat an' let's go!" ----- footnote : see "wings over the rockies." footnote : see "eagles of the sky." ii trapped by the flames jack seemed perfectly willing to accompany his chum, even if it did put a damper on their supper. possibly he was like the vast majority of american youngsters in his youth, and could never resist the lure of a fire. accordingly they hurried down to the lower floor and dashed outside. "which way now, partner?" gasped perk who was a bit short of wind after making that rush downstairs, not waiting to use the elevator. "i don't see any glow in the sky to tell where the blaze c'n be." "follow the crowd--that's our only cue, perk," jack hastened to say. "listen to all that row--must be a fire engine heading to the spot; ought to set us right, i reckon." "sure thing, boss an' here she comes a rushin' along like an express train--no hosses though, these days which knocks a whole lot o' the picture silly. on your way, john jacob, i'm with you!" they ran like deer, side by side. others were streaming ahead, everybody displaying the utmost zeal to get to the fire before the conflagration was smothered by the streams of water turned on it. perk was in his glory--this sort of thing appealed to his nature as a pond would to a flock of thirsty ducks. only for his lack of wind he might have indulged in a few cowboy whoops as he tore up one street and down another, touching elbows with his pard and eagerly straining his eyes in the hope of presently detecting a gust of smoke that would proclaim their arrival at the scene of operations. "thar she blows!" perk suddenly gasped, "see that black smudge blowin' in from a side street ol' hoss? jest one more burst an' we'll be johnny on the spot! wow! ain't this glorious sport though?" jack made no answer, since there was nothing to say and he needed all his breath to keep going, not yet having caught his second wind. already a large crowd had gathered and was milling this way and that, trying in every way possible to catch a better view of the house that was the object of all these activities. several engines had arrived and were making a great noise as they began to throw streams of water on the imperiled building as well as its near neighbors that would soon be in danger should the fire get a better start. "whee! smoke aplenty but so far i don't lamp any fire," perk was saying in disjointed fragments as he and jack stopped running and commenced to make their way through gaps in the moving crowds. "a four-story frame building," observed jack as though that fact gripped his attention first of all, "and looks like it might be a tenement in the bargain." "i kinder guess you're 'bout right there, partner." perk chimed in. "see the women and kids huddled up over yonder, some o' 'em holdin' bundles o' stuff they've grabbed up when they hurried to get out! ain't that too bad, though--the poor things, to git burned out o' their homes." it was a picture well calculated to wring the heart of a softy like perk. apparently all of the tenants had managed to get clear of the smoke-filled halls for the police officers standing guard at the exit were preventing any of the wildly excited women from rushing back into the building, doubtless with the intention of saving some beloved article which had a value in their eyes far in excess of its intrinsic one. although they fought desperately to push past, the stern guardians of the law stood between and held them back, as if acting under the belief that such an act would be sheer suicide with all that dense smoke filling the halls and stairways. "there, i saw a flash of flame jest then, jack!" suddenly ejaculated perk and if there was a little tinge of satisfaction in his voice it was hardly to be wondered at, the old boyish spirit rising up superior to his feeling of sympathy for the unfortunate families thus dispossessed of their humble homes. jack himself had noted the fact, although he made no remark, only shook his head sadly as if recognizing the fact that despite the fight put up by the fire laddies the frame building was very likely doomed. they stood there and watched operations for some little time meanwhile other engines had come up, attached their hose to convenient hydrants and added fresh streams to those already drenching the buildings. "hot ziggetty dog! this here is gettin' some monotonous, partner," perk finally remarked, "mebbe after all we'd show good sense by hikin' back to the hotel and tacklin' that grub." "don't be in such a big hurry, buddy," objected the other who usually did prove to be some sticker, as perk often observed, "since we've gone and made the run we ought to see a bit more of the fire. supper will keep and besides, you're likely to have a bigger vacuum to be filled. what say to taking a turn around and getting a view from another quarter?" "that ain't a bad idea boy, let's get a move on," agreed perk who always liked a change of base when it promised further novelty. "come this way then," jack told him, starting to the left, "the crowd thins out off yonder, and we'll be able to push through much easier. they still keep on coming though; men, women and lots of children who'd be better off at home i reckon still, what would you have? chances are the average kid is just as wild to run with the fire engine as when we went into action!" "seems like it," chuckled perk, grinning amiably at a bunch of half-grown lads who had just come up and were staring goggle-eyed at the red streaks of leaping fire that appeared frequently amidst all the dense smoke. jack had been right in choosing to take the left turn, for they presently had everything to themselves. evidently the other side of the building presented the most picturesque part of the conflagration, for hardly a straggler was met as they pursued their way. "here's the rear of the tenement," jack remarked in a loud voice for the assembled steamers were kicking up so much noise that it was not easy to make himself heard. "see, they're trying to wet down the building that backs up so close to the one that's afire. it's a four-story one at that and luckily built of brick, which may save it from catching fire." there seemed to be a rear entrance for a cop was standing guard there, apparently to keep any frantic tenant from rushing inside in the mad hope of rescuing some cherished object that had been forgotten in the frantic dash from the building earlier in the evening. flames were now coming out of several windows in the upper part of the doomed structure. on seeing this jack lost all hope of the house being saved through the heroic efforts of the striving firemen. "it's bound to go, perk," he remarked, "i'm sorry for those poor families that stand to lose everything they've got in the wide world. such as they never have a red cent of fire insurance. look at that burst of flame will you? small chance anybody'd have if they were unfortunate enough to get trapped up there!" "ugh! don't mention it, partner!" cried the shocked perk, his gaze fixed on the red tongues that kept flickering out of the upper windows like angry demons. "many a time i've dreamed i was in a fire-trap like this here, an' had to slide down the water-pipe with greedy fingers like them flames up there settin' my clothes afire, singein' my hair and eyebrows an' nigh chokin' me in the bargain. i'll dream o' this for a month o' sundays but ain't it a thrillin' sight though?" that was just like honest-hearted perk--filled with pity for those who stood to lose all their scanty earthly possessions, yet fascinated and duly thrilled by the fire itself and the whole surrounding panorama. a minute afterwards perk burst out in most intense excitement, gripping his chum's arm with a strained clutch as he cried: "je-ru-sa-lem crickets! now ain't that a danged shame though?" "what do you mean buddy?" demanded jack, also thrilled. "up yonder at that third-story window where the smoke's comin' out in big whoops--i certain sure did see a poor woman reach out, wringin' her hands like she was hopin' they started to set the ladders up--then she fell back again in the smoke--oh! jack, she's goin' to be smothered an' burned to a crisp if nobody c'n get to her in time!" iii bridging the gap "which window, perk?" cried the startled jack, staring upward. "that one--third from the further end--gee whiz! like i might be in a cutout--brain all in a mixup--what c'n we do, boss--knock that cop over an' skoot upstairs?" "not any of that stuff, buddy," jack told the impulsive one in his impressive fashion. "he represents the law, and so do we. besides, look at the smoke rolling out of that rear door, it would be the last of us if we started that fool racket." "but--somethin's _got_ to be done, jack--we jest can't stand here and let a poor woman be burned to death. do somethin' partner, 'cause i'm flyin' blind in a messy fog and can't see where i ought to head." his voice and manner were both imploring, and jack could not but be impressed by the gravity of the occasion. "sure you saw some one are you, perk?" he demanded. "jack, i got good eyesight, an'--looky there, right now, she's back at the same window an' _will_ you b'lieve me if she ain't got a kid alongside her? wouldn't that jar you, ol' hoss?" jack no longer entertained any doubt regarding the truth of what his comrade had seen for he too could dimly make out moving figures at the third window from the end of the burning tenement. "they're makin' motions to us right now!" sang out the greatly distressed perk in new agony of mind. "i swan if i don't think they're meanin' to make the jump an' it'd be a crack-up dead sure!" startled by his own works perk began to make violent gestures, as though endeavoring to warn the frightened woman not to dream of jumping. "hold your hosses--we'll get goin' an' have you out o' that mess in a jiffy;" and then turning upon his companion perk almost savagely demanded: "it's up to us, jack--now how're we goin' to do it?" "there's only one chance that i can see," jack told him, "which is by way of this other building here. we must rush up to the third floor and if luck backs us we can find some way of passing over to her room--see, it's only a matter of five or six feet at most. come on, buddy!" "whoop! here we go then!" thundered perk, making one more sweep of his arms as if to reassure the trapped inmate of the tenement and then rushing in the wake of the fast moving jack. several people were emerging from a rear door of the brick building, and lugging all manner of household things in a mad endeavor to save cherished possessions. evidently they had been seized by an overpowering fear that the fire might leap to their establishment and acting under this impression were hardly conscious of what they were doing. indeed, it began to look as though they might so block the narrow passage with the stuff they sought to salvage that no one could either get up or down. jack was finding it difficult to push past and had almost to climb over a bulky bundle of bedding that had become lodged in the passage. perk, more impetuous, bowled over a stout man who had come down the stairs dragging a trunk, that banged and skittered in a dangerous fashion. by great good luck and the exercise of some muscle, they both managed to brush past the blockade and the stairs seemed free above them. the first landing was reached and the second almost immediately afterwards; then came the final climb and the two pals, almost breathless, reached the third floor. there was enough illumination for them to see what lay about them for the fire seemed to be breaking out of all the upper windows by this time and despite the thick smoke, shone through into the interior of the brick tenement. smoke had found entrance too, and made their eyes smart but that was a small matter and could be tolerated with such a vital stake in view. perk saw his companion take a swift look around as though to get his bearings, after which he turned to the left and ran along the hall. by this time perk, a bit bewildered and confused, was willing to follow wherever jack saw fit to lead, so in blind confidence he put after the other. a door stood open as if inviting the would-be rescuers to enter a room which jack lost no time in doing, with perk at his heels, both of them groping about amidst whirls of pungent smoke. one of the two windows was open, which would account for the presence of that dense blanket and like a shot jack jumped over to thrust out his head so as to ascertain whether his guess had been worth while. he saw the greedy banks of flame shooting out, across and up, and felt it almost scorching his cheeks but just the same it was a satisfaction to discover he was exactly opposite the third window from the end of the burning building. "this the right place?" perk was booming in his ear for what with the roaring of the fire, the pumping of the steamers down below and the shouts of deeply interested crowds in every quarter, the clamor was indeed something fierce and impressive, stirring the blood in their veins and causing their hearts to beat wildly. "yes--that window right across this gap, perk, is the one we picked out!" "je-ru-sa-lem crickets! i kinder guess i c'n make the riffle!" jack managed to catch hold of the reckless fellow as he was in the act of clambering up on the sill of the window, undoubtedly with the full intention of making a desperate attempt to jump across, to the one from which the smoke was pouring forth. "don't think of trying it--a crazy idea--one chance in ten you'd get across without falling!" he shouted in the ear of the struggling one. "gosh! let me make the try, partner--sure i c'n do such a little stunt okay--let off, won't you, jack?" pleaded perk, but the other only tightened his grip. "even if you did manage to hang on and climb inside, what good would it do--how get the woman and child across the gap?" jack roared, feeling that his comrade was losing all the sense he ever had. perk suddenly ceased struggling as though he had seen a great light. "wall, i guess you ditched me, ol' hoss--that's a fact they couldn't make it after all. then what's to be done?" he went on to say, dejectedly. "we've got to bridge it some way or other," snapped the ever ready jack. "this is a kitchen, seems like, partner--jump into it now, and see if you can't run across something that would reach across to that other window--even an ironing-board might make it. i'll take a look across the hall, in some other apartment, and may run across another." perk, as if freshly inspired, set about his commission with alacrity and almost immediately made a plunge toward a corner of the small room to snatch up a six-foot board covered with several thicknesses of cloth that was scorched in numerous places as with a hot iron. jack had meanwhile darted into the hall, discovered another open door nearly opposite and without knocking rushed through to find a second deserted kitchen and not quite so much smoke to interfere with his vision. fortune again favored him, for almost the first object he saw was a similar ironing-board, evidently a mate to that perk had run across. snatching it up he turned and hurried back to the opposite room, where he found perk just laying his frail plank across the area to discover that it bridged the gap, although with but a mite to spare. jack arrived just in time for the rash one was in the very act of crawling out on his unsteady bridge which, if moved a few inches, would have precipitated him down thirty feet and more to land upon a cement pavement and meet with grievous injuries, even if he survived the drop. "hold on!" jack shouted as he again caught hold of his chum. "here's a second board that will widen the bridge. let's swing it across and then one hold them together while the other crawls over!" "yeah, let's," perk chimed in, seeing the advantage a double width would afford, and this was quickly accomplished. "i'll go over," jack was saying. "not much you won't--that's _my_ job i'm tellin' you partner!" the other insisted, pushing jack aside. "but--i'm younger than you, perk, spryer too--it ought to be my game, don't you see?" "the devil you are!" whooped the one who would not be denied. "i'm stronger an' tougher'n you ever be, boy--an' i saw 'em first, too! let me have my way, _please_, partner, won't you?" jack, realizing that it would be the utmost folly for them to keep on disputing in this fashion while the very seconds were so valuable when human lives were in jeopardy, gave up the contention. "all right, perk, you win, but i'll go next time, remember. make up your mind i'll keep the boards close together--be as easy as you can when crossing. now, go to it!" already perk was out on the strange bridge on hands and knees, crawling toward the opposite window while jack, gripping the ends of the two boards with all his strength, held them steady. it was a tense moment and one not soon to be forgotten. by this time it seemed that two of the firemen down below holding the nozzle of a hose and sending a stream of water up to the roof of the doomed tenement building had discovered what was being done, for they raised their hoarse voices to applaud the daring bridge creeper. it was all in the line of their own daily work and they surely could appreciate the venturesome act at its full value. jack had a dread lest they change the direction of the stream, hoping thus to sprinkle the climber and render him immune to that heat which they must know would be almost unbearable so close to those darting billows of fire but fortunately they did nothing of the sort, doubtless realizing how frail that mockery of a bridge must be and how the shock of a volume of water might cause it to break away. a few seconds of dreadful suspense and then perk vanished from view, having passed into the room through the third window from the end of the tenement. jack almost ceased breathing, so thrilled was he lest that might be the last glimpse he would ever have of his pal. iv the rescue there was some sort of a movement across the way--then to jack's great relief he saw perk's head appear in the open window. he had a small figure in his arms--the boy, undoubtedly and was already starting out upon the bridge. jack could see no sign of life about the little child and had some fear that the rescue might have been too late to save him from being smothered by that dense smoke. just then he also discovered that another figure had appeared back of perk, and readily guessed this must be the woman. she seemed to be holding the ends of the ironing boards as though possessed of a deadly fear lest they slip from the stone coping and precipitate both child and rescuer to their death in a wild plunge. that caused jack to tighten his own hold for perk was having considerably more trouble in making his return than on his previous crossing since he now had to push the child ahead of him, being unable to navigate and hold a burden, however helpless, in his arms. again the firemen below were shouting words of praise and encouragement to the gallant soul that so fearlessly risked his own life for that of another. with them such exploits came in line with their duty, but in this case it was simply an act of humanity. jack waited until perk had pushed the child against his hands, then cautiously he loosened his grip on the right board and dragged the light weight over the window sill to safety. perk clambered in and immediately made a suggestive move as though about to turn around and do his stunt all over again but jack refused to stand for such a thing. "you've had your inning, buddy, so don't be hoggish," he bawled as he shoved perk aside, "now it's my turn. take hold, and keep the boards as steady as you can while i fetch the woman across." perk was very loath to obey and doubtless did a lot of grumbling, but jack paid no further attention to him, just began to creep out on that narrow bridge, and move ahead inches at a time. he dared not look down lest it have some sinister effect upon his nerve--just kept his eyes firmly fixed upon that window toward which he was creeping. the poor woman was still in sight, wringing her hands and yet evidently satisfied to know her child had been safely carried across the abyss that yawned there so threateningly. jack would have liked to call out and beg her to keep quiet lest she chance to dislodge one of the frail supports upon which so much depended but he also feared lest he himself in thus shouting cause immediate trouble and defeat his purpose. the crossing was made in safety. it was simply wonderful how those twin planks held together when the necessity was so great. jack would never be able to look upon such an humble kitchen necessity again, whether in a house or a hardware store window display, without feeling warmly drawn toward the mute object on which his very life now depended. he crawled through with a tongue of flame darting down and almost licking his cheek. it was necessary that he should get the woman to go out ahead of him, so that he could encourage her as they crept along. "steady yourself, madam," he called out as he felt her hands come in contact with his arm, "it's all right--your boy is safe, and you will be too if you get a grip on your nerve and do what i tell you." she was evidently badly shaken as might be expected--he could see how she trembled and seemed so weak, which was why he spoke as he did, in the hope of putting a little new confidence in her almost fainting heart. "you must crawl out ahead of me," he told her. "don't look down--keep your eyes on the window where my pal waits for you--just keep saying to yourself that your boy is over there waiting for you--he needs you, and you must be brave now. there is no other way by which you can be saved to join him again. can you make the venture, lady?" he used that last word almost inadvertently, yet already had he decided that she was indeed a lady, though poorly dressed and evidently under financial difficulties. he must have inspired his charge with some of his own valor, for he saw her cease trembling and knew full well it had been his mention of a reunion with her child that had effected this change. "yes, oh yes, i will be brave--for adrian's sake, my baby boy!" he heard her cry as she started to creep out of the window amidst all that smoke and the devilish tongues of fire that darted after her as if in rage at being cheated of their intended prey. carefully did jack follow after her, ready to throw out a helping hand should she make the slightest slip and be in danger of falling. but to his surprise and delight as well, she seemed to be supported by some miraculous power for she made the short passage without a single mishap. perk made no effort to drag her through the opening--to do so he would have had to take his hands from his job of holding the ends of the planks and this might lead to a sudden shift that would bring about the very disaster he had been dreading. his one thought now was the safety of his pal--the woman was capable of passing over the sill of the window without any assistance. when, therefore, jack came over the bridgehead and landed on the floor, the impulsive and thrilled perk threw his arms about him, words failing him just then. "we must get out of this," jack managed to say, as soon as he could catch his breath again, "the fire is almost sure to jump across that gap and start things in this building unless firemen climb up here and hold it in check. perk take up the child, who i see is beginning to come to all right. i'll help his mother down the stairs. we're all safe and sound, lady, so keep as nervy a front as you can." perk cuddled the little chap to his breast and jack was tickled to see the boy clasp his own chubby arms around the other's neck as though he realized something of what perk had done for him and loved him for that. the descent was made slowly for there was more or less danger of one of them slipping and having a bad fall--but presently the last flight of narrow rear stairs had been negotiated and they came to the open door that led into the alleyway and safety. they were just in time too, for a party of firefighters with a slack hose were just entering the brick tenement, evidently with the intention of dragging it to an upper window where, with the water turned on, they could fight the hungry flames at close quarters and at least keep the second building from being involved in the common destruction. perk might have been bothered to know what next to do but not the versatile jack who led the woman out of the crowd and then looked around for some vehicle in which she and the boy could be taken to a hospital, for he had discovered that one of her arms seemed to hang at her side, as though it may have been broken in the excitement. fortunately a taxi chanced to come along into which they all bundled and were taken to the hospital. the boy sat in perk's lap and his preserver seemed to take positive delight in holding one of the little chap's hands. noticing how fond perk seemed to be of children--and this was not the first time he had learned of this fact, since he had one of his humorous smiles for almost every child--and dog--he met--jack wondered why his elder pal had never married but that was a subject perk never mentioned nor had jack felt it his province to make inquiries, since there are some things that are no one's business. a doctor quickly examined the mother's arm and admitted that one of the bones was fractured. it was not a bad break, however, and she could be around with her arm in a sling after he had attended to it. somehow, although as yet supperless, neither of the chums seemed in any hurry to get away. perk was held by his attraction toward the chubby little boy and as for himself he felt concerned with regard to what the pair they had saved would do, since they no longer had a home and all of their scanty possessions must have been devoured by those greedy flames. he determined not to abandon them until he had learned how the mother was fixed with regard to this world's goods. somehow, although she dressed very simply, there was an air of refinement about her that impressed jack very much and he also had an idea she could not be in straightened circumstances for she was wearing a ring of considerable value, he noticed. he managed to enter into conversation with her after she had tried to tell him she would never forget what he and his friend had done for her that night. he had listened with his customary smile, shaking his head meanwhile, as if to belittle their actions. "we could not have done less, after we saw that the firemen had not placed any ladder up to that third floor," he went on to tell her. "and then, you see my chum here, who lives only for excitement, was just complaining that things were so humdrum and dull so it tickled him to have a chance to test his nerve again. and you can see he's especially fond of little boys, not girls. we expect to leave salt lake city any hour now as we are aviators,--flying men you know--and have a job ahead of us. before saying goodnight to you, madam, would you mind telling us if we can be of any further assistance to you and your fine boy here--pardon me for mentioning it, but are you supplied with present funds, since possibly you may have to remain here in the hospital for a week or more?" she looked at him and smiled as though pleased with the solicitude he showed but she shook her head and hastened to say: "we are not what you would call poor, for we have good friends back of us. indeed, it was my intention to start for spokane tomorrow as i must try to find a certain party whose present whereabouts means everything to me. so please do not worry about us, for we can get on. it was a furnished flat we occupied and while i have lost all my clothes as well as those of adrian, that lack can easily be replaced. i thank you for your card giving me your washington address. some day perhaps you may hear from me and possibly i shall have some pleasant news to tell you but just now it is all wrapped up in mystery. so much depends on my finding the one who does not dream of the information we are carrying to him. if only my clue proves trustworthy." that was as much as jack learned and it was bound to often come up in his mind, causing him to wonder what the "good news" she mentioned could be. v at the flying field it was pretty late when they sat down to supper that night but as jack had predicted, the appetite of his chum was amply recompense for the delay. they had done a good deed and best of all managed to get away before any inquisitive newspaper men arrived at the hospital on the track of a sensational beat. "which pleases me a whole lot," jack went on to say as they started eating. "same here ol' hoss," added perk, with unction. "once them chaps get on the scent o' a good story they never do let up till it's spread out on the front page after bein' blue-penciled by the city editor. i know how it's put through, 'cause i got some pretty good friends in the bunch--they're all wool an' a yard wide on everything 'cept pokin' their noses into the private affairs o' citizens and couples that jest _can't_ get on in double harness." "just imagine what a nasty shock it'd be to us both perk, to see our names and pictures staring at us under a scare line of black type--yes, and like as not with as much as they could scrape together about our private business--nice way to upset all the plans of secret service hounds on the trail of big game, i must say." "honest, i didn't give away a single thing, buddy," said perk with unusual earnestness, which was as good as an invitation for jack to clear his skirts of the same suspicion, which he hastened to do. "i simply gave her my address in washington--at my room, you understand, perk--i wanted her to write to me later on so we could know how they both came out after that nasty squeeze play. not a whisper what line of business we followed and i asked her as a particular favor not to let a single soul know who the two parties were to whom she and her boy owed their narrow escape from being trapped in that burning house. she said the name would never pass her lips and that she would write, after something she was bound to accomplish had been put through. of course i couldn't even give more than a guess what that is, only she seemed dreadfully in earnest and i reckon it might be a reconciliation with her husband, adrian's father." perk nodded his head solemnly. "huh! mebbe so, jack, mebbe so, lots o' that sort o' trouble goin' 'round these days, seems like. now i wonder if you thought to ask what her name might be?" "queer that i didn't think to do that, partner," jack told him with a little laugh. "i reckon i must have been a little absent-minded but that's nothing to us for chances are we'll never meet the lady again. how about you and the boy?" "he told me his name, jack, when he gave me this little picture he happened to have in his pocket--you see on the back it's got written, i guess by his mom herself: 'adrian, at six'; but tarnation take the luck if i ain't jest plumb forgot the last name he told me--somethin' like burnham or barnard--begins with a b, i'm dead sure--buster, bramley--buttons--well, for the love o' mike i can't strike oil but it'll come back, given a little time." "and i can see plain enough if it keeps on skipping you it's bound to keep you busy guessing right along," jack was saying, for only too well did he know this little weakness on the part of his comrade. perk was bound to keep on pounding away at that puzzle day and night, giving himself no rest until he either solved the riddle or else some one told him the answer--left to himself he would never give up trying. "like as not, buddy," replied perk, frowning darkly; "seems i'm gettin' up a tree every little while--never could remember names worth a cent but i don't forget faces, you understand." "and then too, you're a great hand for remembering to hear the first sound of the dinner bell," said jack with a chuckle. "i sure am some punkins 'bout that," admitted the amiable perk with one of his goodnatured grins spreading over his homely face. "what's the program after we've cleaned up this mess, eh partner?" inquired jack, who doubtless could make a good guess from previous experience as to what his companion's answer was apt to be, but for once he counted without his host. "wall," observed perk shaking his head, "i did mean to take a look in at the pictur house, seein' they got my ol' favorite, milton sills booked tonight but shucks! it's too late an' 'sides, somehow i kinder lost my likin' for action jest now--mebbe i got my fill in that busy bee session with the fire fiend down by the tenement district--kinder a bit lame in the arm muscles, so i figger on rubbin' 'em with my salve that worked so fine after my rough landin' away back. yep, i'll cut out the movies for one night in port an' go to bed early." "i'm meaning to pick up all the extra sleep possible," ventured jack at which his mate nodded approvingly. "i get you, partner," he hastened to say, "kinder figgerin' on our skippin' out any ol' time an' like as not runnin' up against a rough passage that'll keep us on the jump. but i sure would like to have even an inklin' which way that hop-off's goin' to lead us." "i'm surprised at such a reckless, devil-may-care sort of chap as i've known you to be, perk, bothering your poor nut about such a silly thing just as if it mattered two cents to either of us which way we head--nothing ought to give us a second thought except that we're ready to jump in and carry through, any old place under the sun." "yeah! but then what'd i find to worry 'bout if i didn't pick on the way we're kept in the dark up to the last minute?" jack looked at him blankly and shook his head as if such peculiar philosophy were too much for him to master--then he changed the subject and the meal went on until even perk, with his tremendous cargo capacity, could contain no more. they sat in their room reading until their eyes getting heavy warned them it was time to hit the hay, as perk was so fond of calling the act of getting into bed. in the morning they were both astir, for it so happened that neither had ever shown signs of being late sleepers, save on special occasions. "another day," remarked jack while leisurely dressing, for since they had nothing afoot (save to possibly take a few hours' spin in order to keep in practice as well as test out several new devices with which they had as yet not become as familiar as jack would like), there was no necessity for any hurry. "an' wouldn't i give somthin' if only i knew we could check out before sundown tonight," grumbled perk, yawning and stretching as though life was becoming entirely too tame and monotonous to satisfy his cravings. "wait and see," advised his chum, "you know the old saying that it's always darkest just before dawn--we're due to get a thrill before many more hours. give headquarters decent time to cook up a fine fat game for us, a nut to crack that'll be worth going after. i've a few little things on my list that i mean to carry out this morning when i'll be ready for the call." perk seemed unusually slow that morning, though he did not complain about his lame muscles. even when jack asked about it he shrugged and with a grimace remarked indifferently: "oh! that's okay, buddy--turned out to be a false alarm--nothin' the matter with me, i guess, except i need shakin' up a wheen." "you'll get all you want of that i reckon before you're many days older," jack told him, "somehow i've got a notion we're going to be sent on a wild goose chase that may cover some thousands of miles and take us into a queer section of country--nothing but a surmise, or what you might call a _hunch_ to back me up in that, remember, but i've known a hunch to come true more than a few times." "i wonder," perk observed dreamily, eyeing his comrade as if he again felt the old suspicion arise with regard to jack knowing more than he chose to tell just then. but unseen by either of the two pals, coming events were hurrying along and threatening to speedily engulf them in as dizzy a spin as either had ever encountered in all previous experiences. it was around eight when they arrived at the flying field, as usual a scene of considerable bustle with ships coming in and departing--air mail carriers, visiting boats taking off in a continuance of their prearranged flights east or west and several heavier bombing planes that were being taken to los angeles by naval pilots for some secret purpose of the war department. jack and his pal observed all this with grins of sheer enjoyment, so bred in the bone had their love for their profession grown to be that everything connected with flying drew them as the polar star does the magnetic needle of a compass. "times are getting right lively around these diggin's," remarked perk, with a sparkle in his eyes and enthusiasm in his voice. "seems like it," replied jack who chanced to be watching a novice just then starting out on what appeared to be his initial solo flight. "that boy shows fair promise of being due to break into the ranks of express pilots after he's had another hundred miles or so of flying. i like the way he handles himself and the test pilot told me yesterday he was sure to be a comer." "ol' bob ought to know what's what," mentioned perk taking a look for himself, "there, he's off and see how he lifts the ol' bus when he's ready. i watched him make as neat a three-point landin' yesterday as anybody could wish. a few o' 'em seem to be born with wings--but not many, not many, i'm sorry to say. well, let's step over and get things started." perk stopped short as though some one had given him a blow--he seemed to be holding his breath while he stared and then commenced rubbing his eyes in a peculiar fashion, just as though he imagined he must be seeing things where they could not possibly exist. jack realized that his chum must have had a shock of some kind, and turned upon him quickly. "what's the matter--what ails you, perk?" he demanded. "gosh amighty! jack, looky there will you--the hangar--mister gibbons; you know, where we parked our boat--it's burned down last night!" vi a blow in the dark jack was naturally intensely shaken by this outburst from his companion. his first act was to whirl around and look hastily in the quarter indicated where he discovered quite a bunch of men clustered around some object from which wisps of smoke seemed to still be rising on the clear morning air. he and perk exchanged startled looks as though the same sudden thought had gripped their hearts. "queer i didn't notice a thing before, perk, though i saw a crowd gathered--but then that's a common occurrence out here where so many interesting things keep on happening. sure enough, the gibbons' hangar has gone up--such accidents don't come along often in any modern aviation field." "accidents!" blurted out perk steaming up--"lay off that stuff, ol' hoss--ev'ry little movement has a meanin' o' its own--up to last afternoon it was our ship that snuggled in that hangar, don't forgit that, my boy. talk to me 'bout luck, we hit it sky-high that time. let's go see what's happened, and how they talk 'bout it in the bargain." this proposal jack was only too willing to stamp with his approval so they hurried toward the bunch of men--pilots, mechanics, visitors and riffraff chancing to be at the field just then and now engaged in staring at the ruins of the new hangar, doubtless exchanging opinions as to how the conflagration had occurred in the dead of night. "huh!" jack heard his comrade saying as if to himself as they approached the cluster of men, "seems like we got up against a reg'lar roundup o' fire--last night that tenement, an' now today the hangar we been usin' to shelter our boat. hot ziggetty dog! but ain't life queer though?" everybody was turning to stare at them as they came along. undoubtedly it was generally known that their ship had been stored in the destroyed shelter while mr. spencer gibbons was away and that it was only on the preceding afternoon on coming back from a flight that they had transferred it to another hangar jack had been able to hire since the owner of the one they had been using had wired he would be home shortly after dark. "when and how did this happen?" jack asked one of the pilots as he took in the fact that the remains of a plane could be seen amidst the wreckage--apparently an explosion had taken place, for much of the charred material of which the hangar had consisted was scattered around the near vicinity. "they tell us around about midnight," came the answer for the pilot knew jack as a fellow craftsman, although a stranger to salt lake city aviation circles. "the alarm was given by the pilot of an incoming mail ship making port hours late on account of heavy fog in the mountains. queer, too, they say, how quick it all came about--fire was blazing furious like when discovered, and nothing could be done to save mr. gibbons' fine ship. there he is yonder, talking to some newspaper boys." jack went over to tell the other how he was shocked to see what had happened to his property and to ask if anything was known as to the origin of the conflagration. "seems to be pretty much a mystery, they all tell me," the genial sportsman informed him, not showing any signs of being at all worried although undoubtedly deeply mystified. "you fellows were in some luck to get your ship out before this nasty thing came along which i'm glad to know. of course i'm well insured and can replace my pitcairn mailwing readily enough, only i'd gotten that one working like magic. i'm glad no other hangar caught when mine burned. i've offered five hundred dollars for any information that will prove that this was a set-up job for it happens that on one other occasion something similar to this came my way. you see, i was unlucky enough to make a few enemies in wall street who've never forgiven me for knocking them out on a big deal." mr. gibbons laughed and seemed in no wise bothered by his recent loss, only jack noticed how his eyes seemed to glint like sparks from steel when mentioning the fact that he had unscrupulous enemies in the commercial world. jack hung around for some little time, talking to several of those present and asking numerous questions but learning next to nothing. if, as some of the ground attendants seemed to believe, it was an incendiary act, those who took big chances in carrying it out must have planned carefully and fixed matters not only to make a certainty of the ship sheltered within the hangar being destroyed, but also covering their tracks with great skill. finally he started over to the other hangar and perk, seeing him go pulled his freight, as he would have called it, to hasten after his chum. "huh! looks like a fine sight for sore eyes," perk declared with glee, "to see our boat standin' there safe an' sound tho' i'm sure sorry mister fitzgibbons--i mean gibbons, had to lose his crate--no fault o' ourn i'll tell the world, jack." "to be sure we could hardly be blamed for what happened," returned the other with a deep meaning in his voice and manner that caused perk to start and then blurt out: "by jinks! partner, does it look to you like some crazy snooper set fire to the hangar under the belief that our ship was locked in there?" "between you and me and the lamp-post, buddy, that just struck me as possible, though i've no proof to back me up in saying it." "another o' them slick hunches o' yourn, eh partner?" perk hastened to say and then, scratching his chin in a way he had when seriously considering some debatable proposition that puzzled him very much, he added: "can't for the love o' mike guess how anybody could learn jest who an' what we might be but it's a risky line we're engaged in, buddy, an' some o' these here smart crooks have accomplices they say even in the service o' uncle sam. it's possible a whisper leaked out an' havin' some fish to fry, word was sent to some o' the big gang out here at salt lake city to do for us, or wipe our ship off the face o' the earth instanter. gee whiz! but that sure does make things look mixed-up for us, ol' hoss." "for one thing," said jack, firmly, "after this i never mean to leave our boat in a strange hangar without hiring a guard to watch over it every hour of every night, no matter what the cost to uncle sam. i reckon they keep some insurance on these crates, but it would be what time and instruments and charts we lost that would knock us the hardest." "but how could anybody know what sorter job we're goin' to wrestle with next, even 'fore we got a glimmer o' it ourselves?" querulously demanded the bewildered perk, up in the air again apparently for there seemed to be a vast number of things of which he was densely ignorant. jack laughed and shook his head. "some fine day perhaps we'll get on the inside track of these strange doings, brother but right now i'm just as much in the dark as you. all i know is that for some little time rumors have been going around at and close to headquarters but so far as i understand the matter up to lately, the mysterious party responsible for such give-aways hasn't been located. so it's within the bounds of reason for me to suspect we've fallen under the ban and have had some sort of secret enemy set on our track." "huh!" snorted perk indignantly, "kinder like that oswald kearns employed one o' his critters to do us a bad turn--you know, that big rum-runner we nailed down in florida not so very long back an' whose trial hasn't come along so far, we've heard." "just like that," jack told him, "although i hardly believe it could be any of his dirty work. still, it's going to pay us to keep our eyes peeled right along and never imagine the coast is clear just because we don't happen to see any ugly character around. such scamps usually manage to hide themselves daytimes, to slip out after dark and do their tricks." soon afterwards they had tooled their ship to the runway close at hand, made the dash, and started skyward like a bird. for two hours they tried out various capers so as to make certain they had complete control of the wonderful amphibian that had been placed at jack's disposal by those at the secret service bureau in washington, intent on equipping their trusted agents with the best going, so that no failure might be laid at their door due to insufficient backing. they were back again by one that same afternoon, it being against jack's better judgment to remain away more than a few hours at a time. he knew that at any day a message from washington, in secret cipher, was apt to come along and which, for aught he knew, would call for them to start out without any unnecessary delay and he wished to be on hand to receive it. to save time he and perk dropped into the dining room of the hotel without visiting the office so they might have dinner before going up to their room. this was pretty much of a daily habit with them and so far there had not been any disadvantage arising from the arrangement. they had almost finished their dessert when one of the bellhops came along and being familiar with the pair from rubbing up against them so often, he asked no questions but laid down a telegraph envelope addressed to mr. john jacob astorbilt. "gosh!" that was all perk could gasp when he saw that presumably the orders they had been expecting for so long must have arrived. he watched jack reach out and pick up the sealed envelope--noted that there did not seem to be the slightest quiver of his hand--indeed, if it were an ordinary dunning epistle jack could not have acted more carelessly--so far as outward manifestations showed--than was the case just then. he opened the envelope and then, still as cool as a cucumber grown in the shade of a cornstalk, drew out the enclosure which perk's devouring eyes told him was unusually long. food was quite forgotten--for once--by the enthralled perk who sat there, fascinated, watching jack's face as though in anticipation of being able to tell from what he might read there something of the nature of the communication that had been telegraphed from far distant washington. it was quite useless, however. had jack been glancing over a casual invitation to some party he could not have evinced more unconcern. of course the message was so fashioned that in order to glean its full meaning a recourse to his code would be necessary but then as perk knew, jack would be able to pick up a word here and there and in this way get an inkling as to its purport. vii perk hears thrilling news "on your way, partner--gimme a clue to save me from crashin'!" begged poor perk, his wits in a huddle that would have made any football enthusiast take a back seat. "it's our order to get busy, okay," said jack with a gleam in his eyes his pal loved to see, since it meant _action_ and plenty of it. "where bound, for the love o' mike?" continued the other. "i've made out one name here which may be our destination, perk." "yeah?" "spokane," he was told at which perk lifted his eyebrows as if to denote more or less surprise, likewise disappointment. "huh! 'bout a short day's flyin' from this joint," was the way the ambitious perk voiced his feelings, just as if his expectations had been taking wings and soaring across the pacific or some such long distance. "go slow, brother," his mate advised him, "give me half a chance to make this puzzle out--so far i've caught just a word or two here and there. from the size of this message there's a heap back of it. if you're done stoking, let's pass up to our den where i can get out my code and decipher this thing." perk was out of his chair in a jiffy. "i'm with you, laddie so let's get a move on. i kinder guess now i'll jump out o' this here lowdown fit in a hurry, once we get goin'." he already looked a hundred per cent more awake than he had been for several days and jack chuckled as he led the way to the elevator, knowing how new life had been pumped into his chum's veins by the receipt of the order to go. once seated in the room they shared in common, jack took his secret code from its hiding place and set to work in earnest. perk could see him writing down word after word and filling in vacant places. the minutes fairly dragged like lead to the impatient one and when jack sat back, nodding his head as if wholly satisfied, the other again begged him to lift the lid and give him a peep-in. "what's the matter at spokane? some o' them bolshevik miners broke loose over in idaho an' threatenin' to kick up general hell again like they've done so many times?" "a rotten guess brother," jack told him. "nobody said we were going to stop long at spokane--just ordered to look up a certain party there who'd pass on a bunch of information he's been collecting this long while back and so help us on our way." perk beamed again, as though quite a load had been lifted from his chest. "sounds better to me, ol' hoss," he hastened to say. "an' tell me, where do we go from spokane?" "due north!" snapped jack smilingly, "in the direction of an old stamping-ground of yours." "across the border--into canada, partner?" demanded perk. "just where we'll be aiming for and moreover, buddy seems to me i've even heard you speak of a fur-trading post known as frazer's, with a scotchman as factor of the hudson bay company, name of mcgregor!" at that perk let out one of his whoops as though unable to contain his overpowering delight. "ol' jimmy mcgregor you mean, jack! don't i know him from his moccasins up, the queerest but straightest man in the whole northwest territory? why, i was located not many miles away from his store an' many a time dropped in to get my 'baccy at his counter. i'll be as happy as a lark to shake his honest hand again. now wouldn't that jar you though--such great luck?" "here's another name you may chance to know. we're to pick up one of the mounties at the post and take him along as a sort of guide and backer, so as to show we're playing our game in conjunction with the legal authorities of the region. ever meet up with sergeant lowden, perk?" "say, i was in cahoots with a mighty fine lad by that name," came the speedy reply, "but if it's _him_ they've given red a big boost since i quit the game and went back to flyin'." "that sounds good to me, just the same," jack told him, "because we're set to see a heap of the sergeant before we skip back to our own side of the border and with him being an old pard of yours it's likely he'll feel it's up to him to do his level best to help us corral that wildcat." "meanin' who, if it's all the same to you, partner?" perk observed. "listen then and get it pat, brother. some time last year a certain man escaped from leavenworth penitentiary--it's never been learned just how he managed it, or who on the outside or in gave him a lift. seems that he was a man uncle sam particularly wanted to keep shut up for a long term--a dangerous man to be at large. this brought about a bunch of trouble at washington, and a number of high officials felt the finger of suspicion. lax methods and such, you understand, being leveled at them. rewards have been posted everywhere and i can remember seeing several of them in my travels, but up to now never has the first bit of information filtered in to headquarters. they seemed to infer from certain hints that the escaped prisoner had gone west, but then again it was said he had skipped to south america where he could change his name and keep on playing hob with other people's wealth. his name, perk, before he was hauled in and sent to the pen was leonard culpepper!" "hot ziggetty dog! so, _that's_ the way the scent leads us, is it?" cried perk, evidently fully aroused by the disclosure. "sure, i've seen them posters in mor'n a few post offices north an' south, east an' west and wondered who'd be the lucky dick to snatch that fat reward they put up. gee! you've got me near goofy partner, with that news." "listen again then, perk, and get the gist of what this message has given to us. information had trickled in through several sources to state positively that a man answering the description of leonard culpepper has been playing hob up in the northwest territory for some months now. he's got a few tough bad men he runs with and they take their orders from him. that's another proof of his identity, since leonard never would play second fiddle to any living man. it was rule or ruin with him every time." "huh! gettin' hotter right along i'd say, jack--suits me to a dot, an' sure worth waitin' for in the bargain," and if any one could judge how happy perk felt just then, the grin on his face, as well as the way in which he kept rubbing one hand over the other, just like a miser gloating over his gold, would be enough to tell the tale. "remember, boy, this man is reckoned a desperate character, ready to go to any extreme to keep his liberty. even your old comrades the mounties have so far fallen down on the job of taking him in. he seems to play too slick a game for the whole posse and we understand that at least one officer has mysteriously disappeared when trying to track him to his lair. so make up your mind we'll have to match wits with even sherlock holmes if we hope to get the better of this hard hitter." "what's the name he goes by up there?" asked perk. "no name at all--they call him the _hawk_, because he swoops down on his prey unawares and is absolutely merciless. two gold prospectors who were said to have struck it rich somewhere further north have disappeared and it's suspected they fell in a fight with his gang. sometimes he's here and in a few days they tell of him bobbing up a hundred miles away." "jest like a flea," suggested perk, "gone afore you c'n put a finger on him. wall, i kinder like the way our job's laid out for us, partner. the bigger they are the harder they fall when uncle sam's men get goin'. so we're meanin' to pick up a bunch o' news at spokane, are we? an' if it's a fair question, ol' hoss, _when_ do we cal'late to pull out o' this burg?" "no particular hurry, understand, perk, we can take our own time going--slow and sure is to be our motto. but i'm a little like you in wanting to make a start, then, if we feel so disposed, we can loaf a while or turn aside if we see a chance to play a trick for uncle sam. that gives us a lot of leeway, you see." "nearly two o'clock right now--c'n we get off this afternoon, partner?" hinted the anxious one, appealingly. "by four we ought to be on our way, buddy. now let's get busy!" viii the take-off jack was sorry that, owing to their pulling out so soon, he would not be able to visit the hospital again as he had planned and upon mentioning this fact to his companion, perk shrugged his shoulders as he said: "that's a downright shame, i'd say, partner, fact is, i depended on you to find out what adrian's last name was--save me a wheen o' worriment if on'y i knowed it--somethin' that rhymed with barnum--bernard--burling--berwind--hang the luck, jest _why_ does this ol' short memory for names bob up to bother a feller when we're startin' off on a big spin an' may never see thet lady an' little adrian again? seems i'm jest goin' to speak the right word, an' then, shucks! it misses connection like, an' leaves me a gropin' in the dark." jack, being accustomed to his pal's queer ways, did not take much notice of the new cause for worry that had gripped the stubborn one. he felt pretty certain he would see perk sitting many times with a brooding expression on his face and counting his fingers while checking off each and every name he could conjure up that sounded like barnum, etc., to finally heave a tremendous sigh, shake his head and apparently try to get the troublesome puzzle out of his mind. it was all very sad but then one usually has to pay some sort of penalty because of having a poor memory for names. as for jack, he gave the subject little thought partly because he had matters of much greater moment to take up his attention. indeed, he would have been considerably surprised could he have suspected how that name for which perk was grappling just through his stubbornness, would play quite an important part in those adventures which they were destined to run up against on the other side of the canadian border. "now let's forget everything that happened last night," he told his chum seriously, "and stick to our business which is connected with the bringing in of that fierce go-getter and all-round bad egg who slipped out of jail so mysteriously that the wardens are floundering in a bog up to this day. all of which proves he's no easy mark and that we'll have to be on our toes if we expect to cage our bird." they were so well prepared for the sudden emergency call that little remained to be done. the crate was serviced and could cover fully fifteen hundred miles as the crow flies with the gas they had aboard. then, too, as they figured on stopping over in spokane possibly a day or so, there would be ample opportunity to refill their aluminum tanks to the limit as well as lay in such other necessities as occurred to them. "we've got to remember," remarked cautious jack as they were heading for the flying field before two that afternoon, "that once we start across the line, we'll have few chances to fill up with gas. they may happen to have some gas at the post, or perhaps the mounties could supply us because in these days of much flying it would be possible for a ship to drop down near by and be in need of fuel so badly the pilot would pay a big price to be supplied but i don't mean to bank on such a happening." "huh! mebbe things have changed some since i served with the mounties," perk went on to say; "for there wasn't such a thing as a gallon o' gas within fifty or a hundred miles o' the post at that time. folks are gettin' air-minded ev'rywhere you go today an' it wouldn't surprise me to find they've got some sort o' a landin' place close at hand. ain't staggered at anything nowadays, buddy." they lost no time in reaching the field and as it was a pleasant day they found it an animated scene, with crates coming and going, visitors as well as those connected with the field in some capacity helping to make up a crowd with scores of spectators as a backing, rushing from one point to another. this thing was such an old story for both flyers they paid little attention to the bustle that was going on but made straight for the hangar where their ship was quartered. jack had kept his word and a man could be seen standing or moving about near the squatty building. this was a guard in his employ, engaged by the day, for an indefinite time. it might be a week or a day, depending on the whim of the young and ardent sportsman, whom it was believed meant to hunt big game somewhere within five hundred miles of salt lake city. "listen perk," said jack as they approached the hangar, "it might be just as well for neither of us to say a word about making a quick run of it until about to pull out when i'll pay our man double wages. after what happened here last night anything might come along to upset our calculations." "i'm on jack--seems like you never do know what's what these days. any more light on who did that dirty, sneaky job last night, eh what?" "nothing positive but i'm still of the opinion it must've been meant for us," replied jack. "everything points that way for we happened to change our hangar with hardly anybody knowing about it. then again i understood mr. gibbons dropped in along about nine and never a soul to meet him and his pilot save the customary field hands. but then there's no use crying over spilled milk--what's done can't be changed and it serves to warn us never to trust to just mixing up our names. we've got to believe there are just as smart wideawake chaps up against us as we ever claim to be. that'll be enough on the subject perk, so let's forget it." "anyway, luck's all in our favor, seems like," was the consolation perk offered himself, at the same time relapsing into silence. as quietly as possible, just as if they meant to take an ordinary spin, they got their bus out of the hangar. jack had paid the rental for it in advance, so there was nothing to worry them from that quarter, which was just as well for things somehow manage to fly around among the employees and pilots connected with a base port and the news would soon become common property that the young millionaire sportsman and his pilot were at last on their way to some chosen hunting ground in search of big game like moose, grizzly bears or possibly rocky mountain big-horn sheep. as usual jack gave the ship the once over, to make doubly certain nothing had been neglected. so far as he was able to tell it was in apple-pie condition and so well stocked that they could count on a two thousand mile flight unless baffled by storm or dense fog banks. the guard was given double pay and told that his services would not be needed any further, since a sudden wire had changed their plans somewhat and they were pulling out for good. if he evinced any particular curiosity concerning the goal they had in view, never a word spoken by either of the flyers put him any the wiser. not that jack suspected he might be in touch with some mysterious but vindictive enemy, but just kept mum on general principles. "all ready, partner!" sang out perk in his usual happy fashion for it always pleased him beyond measure to be making a start on some new air voyage and from what jack had told him, spokane was going to be only a way station, with the vast unknown northwest territory beckoning them on to fresh activities and mayhap thrilling adventures to follow. no wonder the chap whose nerves were always set for action felt joyful when the moment came to pull the gun and swing off. one last look around and aloft so as to stamp his approval on the conditions with which they were to be confronted, and jack made the momentous start. the wonderful up-to-date amphibian began to move down the slight decline with constantly augmented speed until, having reached the desired maximum the pilot lifted his craft and away they soared. perk took a last backward look at the field that had become fairly familiar to them by this time. there was a grin upon his freckled face that told of the pleasure he felt at such an auspicious moment. a ship was just coming into port, settling down for the last glide--just as a duck might set its wings, and throw its webbed feet forward on nearing the surface of a lagoon on which it intended to alight. perk rather imagined it was a belated air-mail boat, delayed by some accident like a forced landing or unusual weather conditions. no matter, he waved a hand gaily in salute to the homecoming air-man and felt no ill humor because there was no return wave, since the one whose hand was at the stick must needs give his full attention to his work, or risk a crash. so they departed from the friendly salt lake city airport, with a far distant goal in view. ix a broken paddle after attaining some thousands of feet altitude, jack headed into the north-west-by-north, it being his intention for variety to follow the shore line of the water until near its extreme northerly tip. this was only done for a change and to please perk, who had mentioned the fact that he would welcome such a brief run, being a bit tired of looking down on endless stretches of rough country, mountainous in most places and with a most monotonous panorama passing far below. so after all it was accident rather than an expectancy of meeting up with any sort of adventure that brought about the rather odd happening falling to their lot that afternoon. perk having little to do just then that could not be deferred until later on, was amusing himself with the glasses, looking back toward the old mormon city with its vast temple devoted to the service of the followers of brigham young and the many other interesting features which he and jack had faithfully surveyed while they were killing time and awaiting orders. when these sights began to grow dim in the distance, he swept the surface of the big sheet of salty water and noted far away toward the west the shoreline bounding it in that quarter. the day that had begun with considerable warmth had also brought up clouds that had, perk thought, a bit of menace in their dark depths. perhaps after all they would be treated to a little thunder and lightning for a change but that did not give him any concern, since both he and jack were used to meeting up with boisterous weather when in flight and knew all the practical wrinkles for avoiding discomfort under such conditions. through the glass he could easily make out the various towns and smaller places that were to be met with along the eastern shore of the winding lake. they interested him from time to time, especially since jack for some reason of his own had seen fit to drop down until they were zooming along not more than two thousand feet above the lake itself. "some wind down there," remarked perk suddenly. "startin' to kick up the waves like it might mean business." "i wouldn't be surprised if we got a fair-sized blow later on," jack told him as their ear-phones had been adjusted in order to permit an exchange of opinions and also allow them to work in common. perk shot a look skyward and noticed the clouds were actually growing blacker and more menacing. but that meant nothing in his care-free life. if the wind began to bother them it would be a simple thing to climb above the storm and keep merrily on their way, leaving the overcharged clouds to deluge the land beneath with their contents. perk was very still for some little time and seemed to be paying particular attention to something that had attracted his notice. "i say, partner," he suddenly said, and jack could tell he was agitated for some reason or other. "yes, what is it, perk?" demanded the pilot. "i don't just like the looks o' it, that's what!" exclaimed the other. "nothing more than a summer squall, with some fireworks thrown in for good measure, perk. i'm surprised at you, old man." "you're gettin' me wrong, ol' hoss," burst out the other, "i ain't referrin' to the weather, which don't disturb me a whiff--it's that silly little canoe down yonder an' sure as shootin' it's a _gal_ in it wavin' a white flag o' some kind!" "what's that, boy?" cried jack, startled somewhat by perk's last words. "a punkin-seed boat, such as no sensible person'd use on such a big sheet o' water as this here salt lake and she don't seem to have any paddle at work either, that i c'n see--mebbe now it's got broken an' thar she is three miles out from shore with the wind blowin' her further all the while!" jack had banked by this time and was commencing to circle preparatory to dropping down in a glide. somehow what his mate had just said stirred his blood and without the first thought concerning their present errand he was listening to the call of humanity. after all there was no need of undue haste while on this business of the government. they had made the start, perk's impatient mood had been successfully muzzled, and if they found occasion for any reason to delay their progress while en route to their distant destination, it would be all right. "how about it now?" he sang out a little later when they had reached a ceiling of less than a thousand feet. "jest like i was sayin' partner," replied perk promptly. "it's a girl then?" asked the pilot. "sure is, an' a slip o' a youngster in the bargain, not over ten or twelve years old, i'd say on a guess. an' let me tell you, jack, she's keepin' up that wavin' her flag like fun--guess now she's skeered we'll give her the go-by." "we've got to drop down on the lake then, that's clear," said jack, just as though it was imperative to attempt the rescue of the youthful castaway, once her serious plight had come to their notice. "some rough sleddin' for us, partner," mentioned perk to quickly add: "but shucks! what o' that, with you holdin' the stick. our boat c'n stand the racket okay. on your way, partner!" jack was now able to see for himself without the aid of glasses. there could be no question as to perk having struck the absolute truth when he declared it was a question of life and death for the frightened occupant of the dainty little canvas canoe that was bobbing up and down in the rising waves like a floating cork. yes, he could even make out what looked like a broken spruce paddle lying in the bottom of the tiny craft as though it had played the paddler a treacherous trick just when she needed it the most and been cast aside as useless. he dropped still lower, with a practiced eye keeping tabs of the wind and waves that were being kicked up. then came the contact between the pontoons and the roughening surface of the lake--a considerable commotion followed, but the admirably built aluminum floats did their expected duty and in a brief space of time they were safely established on the heaving waters, not more than thirty feet away from the young and distressed mariner. again the rat-tat-tat of the engine was heard as jack turned on full power, knowing he had a combination of wind and waves to beat. the spray flew quite briskly and perk let out one of his joyous whoops as, amidst all this clamor, they continued to taxi in the direction of the bobbing punkin-seed as he had called the drifting canoe. the young girl had ceased waving the white object which jack strongly suspected might be a piece of her own clothing, torn off in desperation when she feared her lone chance of rescue might pass by, leaving her to a cruel fate. she was kneeling in the tossing boat, staring toward the approaching strange craft--an airship that could navigate the lake as though by magic, something she undoubtedly had never witnessed before, even though planes must be a familiar sight, seen far up in the heavens as they journeyed back and forth on their individual errands. so they soon came alongside the helpless canoe and jack was telling his pal just how it would be best to get the girl aboard. her craft of course would have to be abandoned, since it was out of the question for them to taxi head-on over that water, growing constantly rougher as the wind rose higher with the shore something like three miles distant. after all the safety of the girl was the main thing they must keep in view--a canoe only represented a small amount of money but a human life was priceless. perk made ready to assist the wretched skipper of the frail craft aboard, although it required considerable maneuvering on the part of the pilot to fetch the ship around so that the contact could be effected. at the proper moment perk reached out his hand and once he clutched that of the girl he knew the rescue was as good as accomplished, for he would never let go. in this queer fashion then was a third inmate of the ship's cabin installed and the canoe allowed to drift away. the girl was too much agitated just then to bemoan the loss of her treacherous little shallop, for sinking down on her knees she burst into violent sobs the result of her late terror. but their main object had been attained and now to get out of this rough sea. x in a snug harbor it turned out to be rather a wet job, forcing the amphibian along against the waves and the wind, constantly increasing in vigor and both of them, as well as the girl, were more or less soaked before sufficient speed could be attained to permit the boat to swing upward and take to the air. superior skill accomplished jack's end at last and they left the agitated surface of the lake to ascend and head toward the shore. of course there was no way of asking the questions perk had on the tip of his tongue, since she could not possibly hear anything he might say, what with the clamor of motor exhaust and spinning propeller, together with the shrill whistle of the wind amidst the struts. but then according to perk's mind there was no need of hearing any explanation, for it was all so simple--the girl had foolishly ventured out farther than discretion warranted in such a frail craft then the sudden rising of wind and waves had alarmed her, and she must have plied her paddle with such good will that suddenly it had snapped in the middle where possibly a knot in the wood had proved to be its weakness, leaving her helpless far from land and with a storm gathering. no wonder the poor child was frightened--any man might have felt a chill passing over him as he contemplated his slender chances of being saved. and strangest of all, it had been no rescuing boat from the shore that arrived in time to take her aboard, but an airship dropping down from the clouds in the most miraculous way that could ever be imagined. it was now their bounden duty to get her ashore as quickly as possible, for probably her folks would have discovered that she was missing and filled with fears, were at their wits end to figure how they could discover her whereabouts and go to her assistance. imagine their amazement when looking far out over the heaving waters they discovered a sky-scraper zooming along, suddenly make downward swoops and presently float upon the lake, for what object they could only surmise and feed their sinking hearts with wild hopes. then to see the airship again taking wing, and even head toward the land, must have filled them with a wild enthusiasm. jack knew very well what sort of reception he and his chum would be apt to receive and was determined to avoid it if possible, even to the point of seeming unmannerly. he could not enjoy the thought of being made to pose in the role of a hero when all they had done was of a most ordinary character. "see that crowd gathering on that little dock--she pointed to it, an' tried to let me know it was where she came from." perk was calling in the pilot's ear as he himself thrust out his hand and called jack's attention to the excited little group of gesticulating, waving people. the girl was once more making use of her distress flag, but now her face was lighted up with enthusiasm rather than flooded with despair for she must begin to feel like some fairy-book maiden being brought safely back to her father's palace after being torn from the castle of the odious ogre--that is about what her sensations must be, jack was telling himself, if she had a spark of romance in her makeup, which was very likely the case. jack went about carrying out his plans by cutting off the engine and gliding down toward the water, comparatively smooth so close to the shore for the wind just then was coming off the land. they struck with a great splash and the impetus almost sufficed to carry the amphibian to the outer edge of the miniature wharf, suitable only for small boats. eager hands were held out to the girl, already leaning far over and in danger of falling overboard in her desire to reach her dear ones. but zealous perk kept hold of her until she could be drawn up by many willing hands to be fairly smothered with a multitude of kisses, the women in particular showing their enthusiasm in this regard. "push off!" jack told his chum who was kneeling there, gazing at the riotous scene, his face decorated by one of his customary grins. so it happened that a minute or so afterwards, when the tattoo of the working motor startled the group around the girl, to their astonishment and dismay as well, they discovered the rescuing airship moving rapidly away. in vain did they hold out their hands and beckon as though actually pleading to the airmen to come ashore and accept their warm thanks for saving the life of the one so dear to their hearts. both jack and perk smiled, but only shook their heads in the negative as they passed further away from the little landing with its excited group. there was perk sending kisses back with all his soul and jack could see that this was for the benefit of the little girl, who, pushing to the front of the milling crowd was blowing kisses after them, as if in her heart she must let them know how grateful she felt for what they had done. that was quite enough for jack--the memory of the little deed would often arise in his mind and make him all the more satisfied that he had not waited to listen to the applause of those good people who must likely enough always believe it was about the only case on record where two gallant chaps who had actually done a creditable deed, refused to be lionized because of their modesty. perk was again paying some attention to the weather, for those black clouds seemed to be gathering thicker than ever toward the southwest aid from the signs, it would not be difficult to prophesy the coming of a fairly savage summer storm. "going to be some buster, seems like to me, boss," mentioned perk with a hint in his voice as if he would be pleased to hear what his comrade thought of the proposition and likewise what course they should pursue in order to escape as much of the coming turmoil as lay in their power. "between you and me and the lamp-post, brother," jack remarked a bit seriously, "i don't seem to hanker much about climbing in hopes of getting through all that black mess, it's got a venomous look to me as though it might turn out to be one of those electrical twisters we've heard about. i've half a mind to run in closer to the shore in hopes of finding some sort of a point heading out into the lake behind which we could run and be sheltered from the worst of the blow. how about that, perk?" "sounds good to me, ol' hoss an' by the same token i kinder guess i just sighted the cape we want, a mile or so ahead there." he pointed as he spoke to what looked like a fairly sizable point that jutted out from the shore and behind which they would undoubtedly find a lagoon deep enough for their purpose. "yes, i see what you mean and here we go licketty-split for that headland," jack told him without loss of time. indeed, the grumble of distant thunder had by now grown more like a roaring lion or a bull alligator in a swamp, challenging a rival to deadly combat. "the closer we get the better i like that cape," perk was saying as he continued to stare through the glass, "it's pretty high land and ought to shield us fairly well from any blow i'm glad to say, 'cause the wings o' the best ship ever built are kinder weak stuff and likely to be blowed away in a gale when held fast by an anchor or hawser." jack was picking the proper spot on which to alight--of course that would be on the water, but then it would be an easy matter for them to taxi around the point and find a safe harbor if things were as they pictured them. this program was duly carried out without the slightest difficulty. the friendly tongue of high land proved all they could have hoped for and jack readily drove his boat around its tip, to bring up further on where the ground rose to its maximum height. "looks okay to me, perk," he called out as he stopped his motor. "couldn't well be bettered i'd say, partner." "then drop the mudhook, and see what kind of holding bottom you get," jack told his mate which perk proceeded to do without loss of time. thus they found themselves apparently sheltered in safety behind a barrier that should hold back the riotous winds as well as the waves that would soon be beating heavily against it. with the cabin for shelter they would not have anything to complain about, unless the storm should turn into a regular cyclone and jack could hardly conceive such a thing possible away out there on the shore of great salt lake, far removed from the hurricane districts of the mexican gulf. xi a stormy night by this time the forerunners of the gale had arrived with considerable electrical display and reverberating thunder. of course the two flyers had removed their ear-phones since the motor lay silent and the whirlwind propeller had also ceased to spin around with incalculable speed but when the thunder began to roar at its loudest they found it necessary to shout in order to make themselves heard. "say, promises to be some screecher, b'lieve me!" was the way perk put it when an extraordinarily loud crash almost burst their eardrums, the preceding flash having seared their eyes and nearly blinded them. "some fireworks for a fact," conservative jack admitted frankly, "didn't reckon on such an exhibition so soon. but see here, perk----" "yeah!" snapped the other, showing his readiness to act if anything was needed along the order of further security from the rain that was now drenching the shore line as if a cloud had burst. "seems to me you're forgetting something, partner," continued jack. "as what, boss?" "isn't it about time for _grub_?" demanded jack whose face was set in a grin a sudden flash of lightning disclosed. "je-hos-i-phat! if that ain't the very first time i ever did forget such a thing as eats!" burst out the chagrined co-pilot. "that's a fact, it is our time for attendin' to the gnawin' down below-stairs. wait up, buddy, an' i'll fix things up okay in a jiffy." he was as good as his word, although the measure of action he mentioned has never as yet been exactly settled. perk knew just where he had put his supplies and trotted them out with alacrity, likewise undoubted pleasure for that sacred rite of eating was one of the duties the war veteran always stood by manfully. undoubtedly both of them had partaken of meals under many peculiar conditions but if their comments had any bearing on the subject never before had they dined under such frightfully noisy accompaniments as right then with the cannonading from heaven's heavy artillery constantly booming, the wind howling like a pack of maddened wolves and the waves smashing against that little rocky ridge that sheltered them so bravely. perk had lighted the stub end of a candle so that they might not be in complete darkness, for it was as though midnight had arrived, especially between the vivid flashes as streaks of lightning went zigzagging athwart the black dome overhead. calmly they continued to munch their sandwiches and take occasional sips of hot coffee from the thermos bottle, perk having supplied a couple of large aluminum cups for the occasion. "don't seem to let up any that i c'n notice," remarked perk later on when they had taken the edge off their appetites. "weather fooled me that time for certain," added jack frankly, "but then i never did claim to be a good hand at guessing what was coming along in this line. government reports have always served me decently and even they can't always be depended on. this upset may last most of the night for all we can tell." "who cares?" sang out perk, gaily enough. "i worked in a boiler factory in my salad days an' got used to all kinds o' rackets. nary a drop o' rain gets in here, you notice comrade, thanks to the swell cabin we've got over our heads. huh! how many times have i gone through big storms in the open cockpit o' an old-fashioned crate. been bombarded too aplenty by half a hundred big guns, with shells bursting every-which-way around. seems like a feller c'n git used to near anything if on'y he runs up against it often enough." "snug as two bugs in a rug," agreed jack lightly. "here we'll stick it out tonight and go on after morning breaks--no hurry, remember, brother--just take things as they come along and keep in trim for the big push later on." "that's the ticket, jack, boy--it sure wins out in the end--no blunders, jest every move carried out like machine work an' we're sure to come in smilin' at the windup." later on there was a little letup in the violence of the storm and perk even felt encouraged enough to predict that the worst was over with possibly a nice, peaceful night's rest ahead. this, however, proved to be a false deduction on his part for once again the thunder rose to a deafening pitch, with a wind of such velocity that jack himself felt a little uneasiness, not on account of his own security, but because of the great damage he fancied the surrounding country would suffer in consequence of wind and flood. "danged if the ol' thing ain't turned turtle on us an' got started on the back track agin!" complained the humbled perk. "what i know 'bout weather you could stick in a thimble!" "but you're wrong when you say it's backed upon us," jack told him pointedly, "for the wind is still coming from the same old quarter, this is only another section of the same old storm." "huh! running this train in sections are they?" continued the disgusted perk, "wall, i on'y hope they ain't too many more parts to the contraption--i've seen quite enough a'ready." having finished their supper they made themselves as comfortable as the conditions allowed. jack got to figuring, as usual, for he was a great hand at laying out his plans in black and white for reference when the time for action arrived. perk was poring over some clippings he had picked up at some time or other and which appeared to be of special interest to him. it was indeed a most eccentric storm, now waning and giving promise of expiring, anon picking up again and squeezing out considerable more water to help finish the flooding of the earth. tiring of his reading with a poor light, perk had for some little time been lying there so quietly that jack half suspected he might have passed into dreamland. suddenly he gave a loud grunt and exclaimed: "reckon now it might be jest plain barrowman--an' yet somehow that don't seem to sound quite right--how 'bout baxter--banister--brockman--shucks! what ails me anyhow--my bean ain't worth a red cent when it comes to 'memberin' names--guess i must be goin' a bit loco an' next thing i know i'll have to sew my own name on my coat in case i forget it." jack only chuckled, knowing that his chum was going through the same old game of cudgeling his treacherous memory with the usual poor results as of yore. later still, and both of them seemed to get more or less sleep though the storm kept up a growling and threatening for hours, as if not content with such damage as it must have already done. finally perk, aroused by signs of daylight, looked out and was highly pleased to discover that not only had dawn really arrived, but that there was not a single cloud to be seen in the entire heavens. "hi! partner, wake up!" he called out, "mornin's got here an' that pesky row-maker's cleared out for keeps--goin' to have a clear day for our flight to spokane. after such a devil o' a blow i kinder guess we might look for fair stuff a hull week o' sundays. but hold on, i forgot i was sech a poor weather sharp, so don't count on anything i might say--i jest don't know what they got laid up for us flyers, an' that's a fact." they had a very decent breakfast, for perk hunted up some dry wood, he calling himself a maine woods guide these days it appeared, and consequently able to skirmish suitable fuel, even after such a drenching downpour. then, after starting a cooking fire he produced a lightweight skillet, also a pound of sliced breakfast bacon, some strips of which he proceeded to fry as though quite accustomed to playing the role of camp cook. then too, he had a new aluminum coffeepot which he meant to christen on that occasion so the appetizing odors of these two breakfast mainstays soon spread around the entire community, doubtless much to the wonder of various chipmunks and red squirrels that frisked here and there among the trees. jack said nothing, only nodded his head at witnessing these wonderful revelations as if things suited him all right. trust sagacious perk to make ample preparations for the numerous meals they would have to count on while engaged in the future tasks certain to be given into their charge from time to time. xii the lay-over at spokane there was no trouble whatever about getting off after jack had checked his motor and the rest of their ship so as to make certain nothing had suffered during the sway of that extraordinary storm. as they went along, still keeping above the lake shore much of the way, perk frequently called out as he discovered by use of the binoculars some particular damage done by the unwelcome visitor of the preceding afternoon and night. trees were down and obstructing the highway between the various towns--several houses he noticed appeared to have chimneys toppled over or, as was the case in one sad instance, have a tree fall directly on the roof and occasion considerable damage. presently they had left the lake in their wake and were also changing the line of their flight more or less. jack had laid out his plan and felt positive of being able to strike their distant goal in due time, even if he did not have the beacons of the air-mail flyers to guide him. somewhere about noon they glimpsed a city ahead which of course must be none other than spokane. shortly afterwards they were circling above the aviation field and gradually lowering so as to strike the proper spot. in these air-minded times the coming of a strange plane no longer excited an undue amount of curiosity, since a multitude of private aircraft were daily scouring all sections of the country from florida to the canadian border and between both oceans--as perk was fond of saying they'd soon become as common as dirt. no sooner had they made contact with the ground than jack, followed by his companion, jumped out to be greeted by several parties in the same class as themselves--pilots, mechanics and field workers. it was no trouble to get the use of a hangar, since there chanced to be several vacant ones for hire. so too did jack see fit to engage a promising looking man to stand by their ship and make certain no one tampered with it. a good judge of faces, jack felt certain he had picked out a dependable man for this duty so that his mind might be free from any worry while in the city attending to his particular business. perk, for some reason or other did not seem to care about accompanying him--doubtless in the belief that he would in due time hear everything from his partner. perhaps too perk did not happen to have just as much confidence in the hired guard as jack seemed to feel. the remembrance of that burned garage and badly injured pitcairn mailwing crate may have still remained too fresh in his memory to let him recklessly abandon their ship in the midst of a strange airport. jack was just as well pleased, for he could carry out his business with better results if the talkative perk were absent although of course jack would never be guilty of letting his chum know this little fact. perk, having eaten a dry snack before they landed, was not very hungry and he had told jack to be sure and get his dinner at some restaurant while in the city, so that part of the day's doings was taken care of nicely. it was several hours afterwards when jack showed up again. perk could not notice anything about his appearance to suggest that a monkey wrench had been dropped in the machinery of their projected flight, hence he took it for granted jack must have had a gratifying confab with mr. robert mills maxwell, to whom he had been directed to apply, a government official who would be able to give him the latest news concerning the notorious hawk and his lawless doings up there in the northwest territory where the canadian mounted police held sway. perk beckoned to his pal to join him, for at the time he happened to be sitting on a bench not far distant from their hangar and had made up his mind the spot would be an admirable one for them to have their little council of war, after jack had detailed his adventures in the city. "how's things?" perk started in by asking in a general way. "all serene," came the ready answer accompanied by a nod. "i spent nearly an hour and a half with mr. maxwell and found him a most agreeable sort of a gentleman. it was certainly a pleasure to sit and chat with him. he gave me the latest information and just now i'll only say there is to be no change in our program--the whole thing goes through as we figured it." perk showed signs of sheer pleasure. "hot ziggety dog! but i'm right glad to hear that, partner," he remarked eagerly. "i sure do hate to swap hosses when crossin' a stream an' we got things pretty well set up as 'tis. how long will we be stickin' round this spokane airport, i wonder?" "perhaps we may take off in the morning, but a good deal depends on certain things. i may have to see mr. maxwell again if he sends out a message by telephone this afternoon. i'm still using my new name, you understand--he thinks it a bright idea, both now and later on when we'll be running across the trail of the man we want most to strike." "huh! mister john jacob astorbilt, o' course an' by the same token i'm gabe smith, esq., from the glorious state of maine an' known as one o' the slickest woods guides goin'. whoopee! nothin' like layin' it on thick when you're about it. but i want to say that i'll breathe easier after we cut loose from all these strange airports an' strike the open away up in the canadian bush country." "nothing to worry about that i can see, brother," jack said soothingly, "i can guess what's on your mind and that was a sad sight i admit, seeing such a dandy craft nearly ruined by the fire but i've got a dependable man to watch things here tonight and even if we have a single enemy in spokane, which i doubt, he'll never get a show down to injure our fine ship." "mebbe so jack, an' already i feel a bit more confidence in the chap you picked up. i've been chattin' with him--he's a married man with a wife an' two kids. more than that i've learned he was raised in that great old state o' maine an' not fifty miles, as the crow flies, away from the place where i fust saw daylight. guess now he's okay. we both seem to have knowed a number o' boys an' that kinder makes it feel like we'd been neighbors. yep, i guess ike hobbs is on the square. mebbe now i might take a notion to run in with you this afternoon, so's to get some eats an' see a picture--been an age since i had a chance to enjoy myself laughin' at one o' them comics on the screen. how 'bout the place you took dinner at--good enough to stand an encore, buddy?" that was the real perk all over again--food appealed to him as regularly as the hour rolled around three times a day, and seven days in the week. jack laughed to hear his comment, and went on to reassure him. "plenty good i reckon, perk old boy and i'll take pleasure in steering you around to the place this evening. be sure to have your appetite along for they've got a menu almost a yard long so you can have a wide choice." "oh! you c'n depend on me carryin' my appetite wherever i wander--jest can't nohow get away from it--haunts me like my shadow an' has ever since i c'n remember. they tells me i never could get filled up like most kids, no matter how they chucked it into me. any real particular news come your way down thar in town, jack?" "a little that was interesting, i'd call it," came the reply, "although it may be we'll never be called upon to handle the proposition but mr. maxwell did seem to be a heap interested in the game and i sure enough promised to help him out, if we chanced to run smack into one of those mule trains." "what's that, buddy? je-ru-sa-lem crickets! an' do we expect to try an' rustle stolen mules this time? wall, i never 'spected the time'd come when i'd be a mule wrangler o' all things!" "hold everything and go slow about making up your mind," warned jack, visibly amused by perk's evident floundering, "this doesn't happen to have anything to do with mule punchers or even rustlers. it's only a little possible sideline that might happen to develop and of which mr. maxwell would have to be advised should we strike pay dirt--that's all, perk." "in that case," admitted the now reconciled perk, "mebbe i might stand for even mules in my itemary or whatever it is i'm aimin' to say. i seen the stubborn critters do some mighty fine work over there in france--mules that came all the way from missouri in the bargain. but whatever can it be mules has got to do with coaxin' us to turn aside from our main trail, i'd like to know?" "just what i'm going to tell you, if you give me half a chance, brother," explained jack. "here's a little clipping that will explain the whole thing that's got mr. maxwell keyed up to a high pitch," and he passed a strip taken from a newspaper to the now deeply interested perk. xiii over the mountain trails this then was what the deeply interested perk read as he sat there on the isolated bench at the spokane flying field and it can easily be understood the startling information he soaked in thrilled him to the core: "the government agents have been informed of what they suspect will prove to be a gigantic conspiracy to smuggle liquor in immense quantities across the border from canada into this territory, carried out in an original manner never before attempted and which has thus far met with unqualified success. "this conspiracy, it is believed, has resulted in bringing many thousands of dollars worth of rum over the line, which has been distributed among the numerous cities of our northwestern country. several rum rings have, from all accounts, been using pack trains, often well camouflaged, in order to avoid contact with customs officers who might be abroad watching for undesirables. "these clever smugglers, it appears, adopted numerous devices to hide the long lines of plodding, liquor-laden animals and at times it is claimed they have even driven the mules over united states forestry service trails. "so systematized are the wide-spread operations of the rum rings said to be that a 'traffic manager' has been employed to route the many pack trains from canada to secluded places opposite the sparsely settled and mountainous okanogan country in north central washington. "further accounts say that the pacific manager also watches the weather and when it snows sends white mules along the trails, the animals blending with the whiteness of the landscape. when the ground is bare--bay animals carry the liquor. "an old time packer who knows how to use the 'diamond hitch' in strapping pouchlike containers onto the animals' backs it is claimed is employed to load the mules. "heavily armed guards accompany the liquor trains to prevent hijackers from stealing the packs. whisky and wines are being transported over the winding trails, and upon arrival at the liquor depot all goods smuggled over the border are loaded into automobiles for transportation into many cities throughout the northwest." "well, what do you think of that for a corking dodge?" asked jack when he saw that his companion had gone through the entire clipping. perk shrugged his shoulders quaintly in a way that stood for a good many words, but he only said: "gosh amighty! but don't it beat all how some men'll go to such heaps o' trouble jest to make a livin', taking all sorts o' chances to get plugged with hot lead or grabbed up and sent to the pen for a spell?" "it's the day for reckless engineering," declared jack soberly enough, "with a gold mine always just ahead of the risky scheme. i've heard of some queer games being tried out in connection with the smuggling racket but up to now never had a whisper of anything like the mule pack-train steer." "huh! and do you reckon there's any truth in what this paper says or did it jest boil up in the brain o' one o' them reporters, eh jack ol' hoss?" "that's what's bothering mr. maxwell, it happens," returned the other composedly. "you see, he's responsible to uncle sam for keeping things in decent order up here in oregon and washington and if such rackets as this can be put through right under his nose, it's bound to get him in bad with the government. that accounts for him asking me to send him word if we chanced to learn anything worth while about these so-called mule pack-trains, since it would be of some assistance in helping him stamp out the trick." "course then partner," went on the eager perk, "you told the gent we'd be on'y too glad to lend a helpin' hand 'cause to be sure he a'ready knows we're connected with the secret service an' runnin' in the same class as he does?" "that's about the gist of what i told him, perk and that if the opportunity came our way we'd even go to a lot of trouble so as to help him out. to be sure there might be one chance in ten for us to pick up any worth-while clue but that's dependent on little lady luck, as i've heard you say many a time when we were almost muzzled with uncertainty and looking for a lead." "i'm bound to say the further i get to figgerin' 'bout this queer racket, jack, the more i like it. think o' glimpsin' a long string o' mules up in them mountain passes, streamin' along jest like a desert caravan across there in africa. i've always wanted to lamp such a picture." evidently perk was all keyed up to do everything in his power to lend a helping hand to the government representative in spokane of whom jack had said so many nice things. he soon settled down after they had lost all trace of the city in the mining sector of the northwest and proceeded first of all to carry out his accustomed duties with regard to the ship and then when he had time on his hands to begin using his glasses. it was well worth the trivial effort it cost, that grand view of the mountainous section of country over which they were passing. here and there perk could spy little lakes of clear water nestling in secluded valleys or basins and from his elevated position as observer, looking very much like gems in a bold setting. "like as not," perk was telling himself as he looked longingly down on a particularly lovely little sheltered sheet of water, "no white man has ever yanked a gay old trout out o' that lake up to this day! gee whiz! what wouldn't i give to be settled down alongside that 'ere pond a'flippin' my gang o' flies out over that water an' playin' a three-pound speckled beaut! but no sech luck i kinder guess--not this trip anyway." they were soon drawing closer to where jack told him the international boundary between the states and canada lay. of course they would not be apt to know just when they crossed over, since there would be nothing to mark the actual dividing line as happened in europe where every country is so jealous of the others that each road is guarded, with passports having to be shown and stamped. his interest grew with their further advance for he could not help remembering what jack had said concerning those bold international smugglers who were supposed to be continually crossing over from the north with their mule packs laden heavily with the forbidden beverage that was in such great demand among certain circles of law-scoffers. "say, mebbe now," perk told himself at one time--for he had the bad habit of communing with himself on occasion and even seemed to take considerable pleasure in so doing--"i wouldn't be tickled some if on'y i happened to glimpse one of them caravans pullin' through a twistin' mountain trail like i c'n see right down yonder this very minute! an' wouldn't it gimme a heap o' pleasure to swoop down so's to drop a few o' them tear bombs like i did when we blew up the fightin' rum-smugglers and the hijackers that meant to take away their cargo the time we were doin' our huntin' on the gulf coast o' florida!"[ ] he laughed softly at the recollection of what must have been a pretty stirring piece of action, to judge from what perk was saying. then he applied himself with renewed energy to his task of watching that winding mountain trail that vanished again and again, only to bob up shortly afterwards. "hugh! somethin' seems to tell me that 'ere must be a well traveled trail an' leadin' down from the north in the bargain," perk went on to remark as if deeply interested. "i cal'late one o' them 'ere pack mule trains might bob up along that path, if thar's any truth in the stories goin' around and keepin' mister robert mills maxwell awake nights. it'd be a shame if we missed connections when i know jack'd give a heap jest to set eyes on the show. too bad that we'll be losin' all our chances right soon when we strike off to the west. can you tie it for keepin' a poor feller's nerves all on edge?" a few minutes afterwards perk might have been seen to suddenly become rigid, centering his attention on a certain point ahead as though something had caught his strained vision that kept his eyes glued fast. jack, intent on his own thoughts and watching his dials with the fidelity of an air pilot who believed in the slogan of safety first, had not become aware of perk's preoccupied condition so that it gave him something of a little thrill when he felt the other nudge him in the ribs and remark with his peculiar drawl: "hot ziggetty dog, partner! did i hear you say _mules_?" ----- footnote : see "eagles of the sky." xiv the bootleg pack-mule train "what's up?" demanded jack as if he could surmise from his companion's peculiar question that perk had made a pleasing discovery of some kind. "lady luck's gone an' picked us out again to play us for favorites, ol' hoss," perk told him, at the same time half rising in his eagerness to point out something far ahead. jack possessed very good eyesight and as the sun chanced to favor him just then he could manage to make out a snake-like line of small objects that appeared to be moving slowly along in zigzag fashion, evidently following a crooked mountain trail that wound upwards toward the peak of the divide. "so, that's one of them, is it?" jack burst out, himself a bit thrilled by the spectacle after having heard so much concerning the pack-mule trains said to have been adopted by the venturesome souls engaged in smuggling operations across the canadian border. "with the glass here, jack, i c'n make 'em out all to the good," declared the excited perk--"a fairly big caravan in the bargain, the mules loaded for keeps an' toilin' along jest like they do down in mexico whar motor cars ain't so plentiful or cheap. whee! what a sight for sore eyes that is, buddy! seems like you'll have somethin' to wire mister maxwell after all. nothin' o' a newspaper yarn 'bout _that_ bunch, let me tell the world. must be all o' twenty animals in that string with several boobs mounted on hosses an' armed in the bargain, 'cause i c'n see the sun glintin' from guns they're holdin' as they ride ahead o' the line an' in the rear to boot." "that goes with the rest of the story, perk," said jack as he started toward a lower altitude as though wishing to secure a better view of the moving cavalcade in order to make assurance doubly certain. "you remember we read in that clipping how they carried an armed guard along to defend the caravan in case it was held up by a bunch of hijackers. queer how these law-breakers make war on each other in cities, the wilderness, and even along the salt water coasts." "huh! got to be a part o' the game these days," grunted wise perk, "jest like the fish-hawk drops down with a rush, grabs up a fat fish from the lake or lagoon and in turn is robbed by the lordly eagle. i kinder guess now that's about where they got the idea o' hijackin'--snatched a leaf from nature in fact. but say, what are we goin' to do 'bout this thing--why do you strike down closer, i want to know, jack?" "we ought to get a better look in, for one thing," he was informed, "and if you could only work that little camera of mine once or twice so as pick up to a telltale picture of the caravan, it would be the finest evidence we could send by mail to mr. maxwell!" "glory! that's a great scheme, boy--watch my smoke! i'm some photographer when it comes right down to brass tacks an' i'll prove it by gettin' you the smartest pictur goin' an' that's no lie either." perk seemed to know just where everything aboard the big ship could be laid hold of in what he would call jig-time for almost as he spoke he was clutching the small but excellent camera that jack owned, he being something of a crank along that particular line. "i'm meaning to swing around once or twice while lowering the ship," he explained to his companion so that perk might not waste a single cartridge of film in taking a snapshot prematurely, with distance as a handicap. "go to it, partner," sang out his mate quite merrily, "i'll do my little bit when you gimme the word. got her all fixed up for distance an' the sun happens to be jest right--say, ain't that a sweet sight, though with them mules cavortin' like they might be scared by such a monster bird sailin' over their stupid ol' heads? an' see the guards swingin' around, shakin' them guns at us like they meant to shoo us off by lookin' fe-rocious! zowie! but this is a heap int'restin' i'm sayin', eh jack?" "i bet you!" came the short answer, jack being so taken up with staring at the greatly disturbed pack-train under the swinging airship that he could not find time for further words just then. not so loquacious perk who never knew when to hold his breath since he was peculiarly gifted along that line and could work as well as gabble at the same time. "seems like they jest don't know what to think 'bout seein' an airship sailin' over their heads," he went on to say aloud, "an' i kinder guess now some o' them begin to smell a mouse. think things ain't goin' to run so slick and greased as they've been doin' right along. another dip like that, buddy, ought to fetch me close enough to get the snap on the bloomin' bunch." there he held up--for a brief interval. the fact was perk had not run out of breath but was only so intensely occupied with trying to fix his little camera so that the lens would take in the whole of the lagging mule-pack train that he forgot to keep on speaking. really it did seem as though some kindly fortune had conspired to afford all possible assistance in order to successfully carry out this little racket on the part of perk. just as his waiting finger pressed the button the entire cavalcade came to a sudden stop. indeed, if the actors, both two-legged and four-hoofed had intended to make a grand-stand play to the galleries they could hardly have bettered the conditions. perk did not stop at his first exposure but with a commendable rapidity turned on another portion of the reel and once again pressed the button, after which he burst into a roar of ecstatic delight. "got it that time boys, sure thing an' i bet you all looked pretty for the set-up. hoopla! jack, that was a great snap you gave me an' chances are, mister--er, hey, what's this mean?" he bellowed the last few words and with a very good reason for something had come to pass that perk had not reckoned on as part of the program. there was the sudden rattle of firearms from below and--the motor having ceased functioning while jack continued his smooth dive--all around them could be heard a strange hurtling, hissing sound which an old experienced war veteran like perk instantly knew must be made by savagely menacing bullets passing in close juxtaposition to their ship. then jack had the situation in hand again as he pulled the stick back against his chest and with a shrill rat-tat-tat they were once more shooting at an upward slant through space, jack putting his craft through all sorts of angles in hopes of further causing the sharpshooters to miss connection. perk had instantly dropped the camera, though luckily it did not go over the side as might have happened. jack knew his mate was making a swift sweep with his hand and could give a fairly shrewd guess what his object might be, knowing perk's combative disposition as well as he did. the worst of the danger was really past, since they had made such a speedy getaway after that first lunge. anxious to hold the impulsive one in check, since nothing was to be gained from further aggravating the rum-runners, he continued to keep up that eccentric motion until they had climbed sufficiently to prevent perk from starting hostilities on their side. "swing around and let's go down once more partner," implored perk, keenly disappointed because his golden opportunity had given him the slip. "oh! i reckon it isn't worth while," replied jack evenly as though not nearly so stirred up as his chum seemed to be and as he thus spoke kept on going, with the ship headed due northwest by north. "but--see here jack, you don't mean to let 'em have the merry ha ha on us, i sure hope? why, it's got my blood het up to nigh the boilin' point right now. on'y a little slip so i c'n reach the blamed bunch with my machine-gun. for ol' times' sake i'd like to pepper that crowd good an hard! the nerve o' 'em, dustin' us with that shower o' lead! might have bust our biler an' then where'd we been, tell me? jest one swoop an' i'll be satisfied. i could get in a dozen shots before they'd have time to crawl under their' mules." but jack was obdurate to his wild entreaties. "no use perk," he told the other through means of the handy ear-phone apparatus. "they failed to do us any damage, though their intentions were plain enough and remember, 'he who laughs last laughs best'. if your snapshot turns out fairly decent it's bound to put a lot of those dangerous guys in the soup when mr. maxwell fits out a bunch of revenue men to round them up. in other words, brother, because of our little job today the chances are we've put the kibosh on this bootleg mule-train racket and for keeps in the bargain!" xv winging into the northland perk was still in a high rage because of their having been subjected to that shower of whistling lead. "for two cents--if you 'lowed me to do it partner," he boomed with many a shake of his head, "an' swooped down once more, i'd a let loose on them pesky jayhawkers an' rum-runners with my bully o' machine gun. it'd seem jest like ol' times come back agin an' you bet i'd a pickled a few o' the rattlesnake bunch!" "remember perk, we're not up here to pickle anybody. this is only what you might call a little side-show--the big round-up lies further north where we've been given a job to tackle--we're just on our way--that's the whole thing in a nutshell." as usual perk soon calmed down, being sensible enough to realize that no injury had been done either their ship or themselves. they had met up with a stirring little adventure and come out of the row with credit which ought to be satisfactory, on their side at least. "what dye s'pose them yaps think 'bout us flyin' so low down over their heads like we wanted to take a peep at the mule pack train?" he presently asked the one at the stick. "that's something we can only give a guess at," jack told him. "they're just naturally suspicious as all lawbreakers are and i reckon right now they're likely comparing notes to try and get a line on our standing." "huh! guess now you might mean whether they had anything to fear 'bout our ship or not, eh partner?" "that's the idea, buddy. up in this part of the country air craft are a rarity, i should say and they must be a whole lot suspicious after having us dip down as we did. i don't imagine any one saw that you were taking a snapshot of the pack train, for they had no glasses that i noticed." "oh! that part worked okay ol' hoss," quickly announced perk, "i didn't make any show when i snapped the gun off but we sure got 'em guessin' if i know my beans an' i figger i do. if you don't mind mentionin' the fact partner, how do you mean to get in touch with mister maxwell so's to let him know what's goin' on up here on these mountain trails?" "i'll find a way to do that before long," came the confident answer. "of course, he may not be able to lay a trap for this particular pack-train but they keep on coming, and like as not the next convoy will run up against a snag. mr. maxwell i imagine, is a corker of an operator, one who never lets the grass grow under his feet when there's need for quick action. some fine morning, after we get back from this trip, we'll be apt to read all about how this rum-running business with mules carrying the stuff over the mountains, has been smashed to a powder and all the head men put behind bars." "unless i'm away off my guess," further remarked the loquacious perk--who seemed wound up and just must keep going for so long before cooling off--"that clippin' said somethin' 'bout a warehouse on this side o' the line. reckon now there's anythin' in that report, jack?" "you're a little off the track there, brother," he was told. "no such thing as a warehouse was mentioned. it simply stated that it was believed the pack trains all centered at a certain point where they had big, powerful trucks in waiting to carry the smuggled cases to certain cities where they were in cahoots with the authorities--meaning of course, that the officers sworn to carry out the laws of the country and their own state, are taking graft and closing their eyes to what is going on." "huh! nice kettle o' fish when such things c'n go on with the jails so full now they're turnin' the real criminals out to make room for these pizen snakes in the grass." "that's none of our business, perk. we're only a part of the secret service layout with our work mapped out for us. when we've shown up with results, that's as far as we've got to consider--let the solons do the rest." something in jack's decisive manner of saying this must have warned the talkative one the matter had been threshed out as far as was needful for the time being and that it would be just as well if they relapsed into silence so as to consider other matters that were really more important. so perk clamped on the lid and talked only to himself for a long time afterwards, a sport that generally afforded him considerable joy and satisfaction. time passed, with their ship keeping up its swift passage, now close to the tops of outlying ridges and anon passing over valleys so far beneath the voyagers that objects to the naked eye assumed very diminutive proportions. no further mule pack-trains were sighted but then jack had considered this fact and had no expectation of meeting up with a second caravan. because of the existing necessity for guarding the high-priced booze they dealt in, so as to be prepared to resist an encounter with bandits known in the rum racket under the name of hijackers, the expeditions could only be sent off at stated periods and there might not be another for a week or two. it was all pretty wild country over which they swept as on the wings of an eagle heading for the breeding places of its species far up toward the arctic circle and in due time perk began to weary of staring down at such monotonous pictures. once they passed over a railroad and he felt thrilled by the thought that man's ability to invade the most inaccessible regions of the earth had put a bit and bridle into the mouth of even so wild a horse as such a land could be compared to in the mind of a visionary fellow like perk. on they went, still penetrating deeper into the mysterious northland and heading for that isolated post of the canadian mounted police that was said to be at the extreme edge of the uninhabited stretch lying south of those desolate barrens touching on the arctic regions where, according to perk's way of describing things, might be found the jumping-off place that gradually fades away into the near polar ice-cap. it was as jack had learned, a great country for pelts and with signs of gold cropping out of the soil in a myriad of places. the only living human beings likely to be met with would be lone trappers running lines of traps in the dreadful winter season, occasional daring prospectors and stray indian villagers during the summer when they carried on their annual hunt for meat to be cured for winter use. here too, might be found in secret hideouts more than a few fugitives from justice--men who had fled from the long arm of the law and lived the lives of hermits, their hand against all others and compelled by necessity to play the part of desperadoes. such a dominating character as the hawk would not be long amidst such surroundings before he gathered to his standard a select number of like bold spirits. these would be only too willing to follow him in his raids on the stores of isolated fur-takers, white or red, it mattered not, since all men looked alike in their eyes or making occasional more ambitious forays upon some outpost and trading center of the great hudson bay company. even the mounties it seemed had thus far been baffled in all their efforts to break up this powerful and elusive corporation of evildoers, so cleverly handled were the go-getters under the hawk that they had a rare faculty for slipping out of any trap set for them, just as the irishman's flea never was where he jabbed his finger down. it tickled perk's vanity considerably to think a problem that had so long been too much of a knotty one to be solved by those wonderfully smart members of the mounties had now, after a fashion, been transferred to the shoulders of himself and comrade--that the stern resolution on the part of the government at washington to recapture the criminal who had given the penitentiary at leavenworth french leave had so worked out as to form a sort of partnership between the secret service and the constabulary of the great northwest country. having himself served in the ranks with some of those mounties, it was puzzling perk tremendously as to just how his former comrades had fallen down on the job of bringing in the hawk. he had always believed that they never failed to get their man, sooner or later, being ready to follow him to the pole itself if necessary and to ease his worried mind of this strain he now, as usual, turned his batteries on jack once more. xvi baffled by head winds during the last hour or two their progress had not been so entirely satisfactory as they might have wished, on account of head winds that held them back more or less. this, however, did not give jack the slightest uneasiness for as he so often told his more impatient companion, they were in no haste and that more battles were won by slow resistless pressure than by mere swiftness, as history would testify. "jack," observed perk when he felt in dire need of receiving information on the special subject that was giving him distress, "c'n you put me wise jest how come the mounties ain't never yet been able to grab this hawk, as they call him--the feller we've set out to yank off'n his high perch? from what i know 'bout the boys, thar didn't ever come along any problem they couldn't straighten out. it's a sorter slogan, as you might call it, with the mounties that once they sets off on the track o' a marked man he's goin' to be fetched in, no matter how far he runs or how many pals he's got to back him up. i'm sure bothered a heap to know what's happened to the force if they've fallen down on this here job." jack made light of the matter, however. "nothing queer about that, partner," he told the mourning perk. "your friends the mounties are only human after all. it's true they've the reputation of always getting their man but you must take that with a grain of salt, perk. there must have been occasions--rare enough i'll grant you--when in spite of all they could do their game got away or else kept on giving them the slip until perhaps he got into a row with some of his own gang and was wiped out." "yeah! that does seem reasonable i own up, ol' hoss," perk admitted a bit against his will as the other could understand, "but this critter keeps on thumbin' his nose at 'em and playin' hob with decent folks' affairs. don't seem as if the boys might be keepin' up with the reputation they had when i chanced to be playin' in their backyard." "i wouldn't say that if i were you, perk," remonstrated jack, "we've got to consider that lots of changes have come along in the last few years to alter the conditions. for instance, just see what we're doing right now, hopping along so merrily at the rate of two miles a minute with nobody to hold us up. suppose the mounties were hot on the track of a desperado,--then all at once they heard a great clatter and saw an airship rising above the pines with two men aboard, one waving his hat at them and making gestures of disdain--what could they do about such a getaway? he could be a thousand miles distant in ten hours and none of them know whether he went south, east or out over the ocean." "hot ziggetty dog! i never did think o' that sorter thing, partner," confessed the awakened perk, knocking his fist gently against his head as if to stir up his sluggish brain so as to grasp the new condition of affairs as presented by his wideawake chum. "mebbe now the boys ain't dropped back any, it's on'y that the workaday world has gone an' bust up ahead--'less you keep abreast o' these here inventive times you soon git left in the lurch. airships that c'n run upside-down--radio that c'n span half the world so's a feller hears king george talkin' right over in london--talkin' movies that you could enjoy even with byrd down at the antarctic polar regions--gosh! it ain't no wonder if the mounties do once in a great while let their man slip away! we're livin' in too fast an age for old ways to bring in the bacon." apparently perk had plenty to think about since jack had enlightened him in this fashion, at any rate he asked no further questions but went about his various duties with a thoughtful face. now he was making a test to ascertain just how their supply of fuel was holding out and informing the pilot of the result, knowing how this must always be a matter of moment to any one getting so far away from the outskirts of civilization as they were then where they could have scanty hope of adding to their diminishing store in case of near exhaustion. but on comparing results perk found no cause for anxiety on this score, since his deductions corresponded with the figures previously obtained by his chum jack who had a decided flair for making accurate estimates in advance. perk made his customary rounds, investigating conditions and with a keen eye seeking the faintest indication of possible faults in the running of the airship. then that age-old trouble began to assail him and he realized that he had a most aggravating vacuum that really ought to be attended to if he wished to retain his peace of mind. the sun was as near the zenith and it was high time they had a snack calculated to carry them along until they found a chance to cook a real meal for since they would be apt to settle down with the approach of evening perk had already made up his mind he would have a genuine camp supper, memories of that recent feast seeming to haunt him most tantalizingly. possibly too, the tricky fellow may have had a few little surprises in the way of unusual supplies with which he hoped to bring a happy grin on the face of his comrade--an old scheme with perk by the way--one word for his pal and two for himself. another lovely little lake appeared way down below, making about a score they had glimpsed since starting out on the hop from spokane that morning, each one presenting some additional novel feature that caused perk to stare and admire. he even found himself wishing jack might finally decide to take advantage of the presence of a body of water where they could feel comfortable while the night lasted. later on perk figured on suggesting that idea to the pilot for indeed, since ground landing places were so few and far between in that mountainous country, it would seem as though such a policy might be the only one they could adopt. jack, when he saw the spread made by his chum, announced himself as ready to assist in making way with the food supply, though he would wait until perk had taken his toll when he meant to turn the stick over to him for a spell. this programme was duly carried out and no time lost. perk compared it to a traveler seated in the diner of a limited express train heading for los angeles or new york city. "but stop and think, brother, how old-fashioned you are right now," jack told him, his mouth well filled just then with the sandwich he was enjoying. "why, today they have cross-country airships that carry complete dining outfits with a first-class chef in attendance, also sleeping berths to be made up when night draws close. you'll have to get a move on, buddy, for the procession is already at your heels and threatening to take your number." perk grinned and knocked that head of his again. "guess you said somethin' that time, partner. these youngsters sure have old chaps like me on the run for keeps. but i got a notion there are a few things the ol' guys c'n still manage an' as long as i'm able i reckon to keep goin', with aviation my chief diet." "well," said perk, "never give up the ship as long as you've got an ounce of steam left in the boiler," and jack turned his head once more to the supply of dry food and cold coffee that perk had set out for his attention. an hour afterwards he insisted on taking the controls once more. perk, in hopes that he might be thinking of dropping down when some tempting lake came in sight, said nothing, though figuring on broaching the subject presently when the sun sank a little further toward the western horizon. the obstreperous head wind that had delayed them for so long still hung on, though very likely it would die out at sunset. if they had failed to cover all the ground such a run might have given them, at least they were far advanced on their way. then something happened, for suddenly perk missed the steady roar of the motor and on looking up discovered the ship was pointing down as though in a direct glide. his first belief was that, just as he had hoped, jack was bent on taking advantage of an opportunity to drop down on some lake ahead. "goin' to use the pontoons again, eh partner?" he called out as if to show his companion he himself had been figuring on the chances of doing that thing when to his amazement he heard jack saying in a steady voice: "case of necessity--got to make a dead-stick landing--hold yourself steady now, perk, and leave it to me!" xvii jack's dead stick landing perk proved game all right--not the least bit flustrated or upset but just took it as a matter of course--an incident likely to bob up in the checkered life of any airman and with which doubtless he had himself been acquainted in days that were long since gone. he did, however glance swiftly ahead toward the spot where in all probability, barring further accidents, the amphibian would be apt to make contact. "gee whiz! what born luck that guy does have!" was what flashed through his brain for what did he see before him but a sheet of water, one of those lovely little lakes over which they had passed again and again and which at all times had excited both his curiosity and his envy. "oh! if _on'y_ he c'n make it," perk kept saying half to himself and perhaps hardly conscious of his eagerness in the matter, for only too well did he know how lessened their chances of avoiding a bad crash would be if they could hit that water harbor when they struck on a slant. it was a critical moment for the success or failure of the entire expedition, for even though neither of them were killed outright they might be injured so seriously that the object of the flight must sink into oblivion in comparison with the task of getting the wounded one to a doctor. then in addition to those chances, what if their ship became totally disabled? at that distance from civilization it would be next to impossible for it to be salvaged and in consequence the costly amphibian would prove a total loss. no wonder then, that for the brief few seconds previous to their pontoons striking, both of the chums found their hearts ceasing to beat in so far as their knowledge told them--at any rate, they held their breath in anticipation of the worst. to be sure there was an enormous amount of splashing as though some ancient rock had chosen to alight in that little mountain lake. once perk was sure they must capsize and lose everything but just in the nick of time jack cleverly shifted his position and this seemed to right the boat. jack had done wonderfully, considering the handicap under which he labored. the spot where they struck was about two-thirds across the lake so that it turned out they had plenty of room to glide ahead after the first rude shock was over. the two occupants of the cabin boat turned, as if by some instinct, to grin at each other. no one, to observe their apparent indifference, would have dreamed what a close shave they had just encountered for landing with the stick absolutely inert is not the nicest thing in the world and has caused more than a few bad crashes in which life was snuffed out or at least sadly battered. "huh! couldn't a done it any better myself," remarked perk, making a wry face as though to tell his pal to interpret those words in the light of a joke which circumstances did not bother jack in the least. he had a high estimation of his comrade's abilities and pluck and rather fancied perk might be a bit better than himself in some things connected with flying. no ace is such a complete master of his calling that he has no rival worthy of the name. "well, we're down, seems like," ventured perk after taking a survey all around the wonderful little body of sparkling icy water where they had so miraculously dropped from near the clouds. "that part is attended to, and sooner than i had figured," stated jack with a shrug of his shoulders that spoke volumes. "say, was you meanin' to pick out one o' these lakes for a campin' place tonight, eh, ol' hoss?" demanded perk, "'cause i had it all fixed to coax you to do that thing. kinder hankerin' some for a layout ashore, where we c'n have a cookin' fire, an' stretch our legs as we feel like." jack nodded in the affirmative. "i had that all arranged in my mind, partner," he admitted, "but from the way things turned out, the ship didn't mean to wait on my pleasure. you'd think she had fallen in love with this special body of water, from the hurry she was in to make it. just the same we got off mighty lucky, boy." "sure did, jack, and now the next question is, can we hop off from here when the right time comes along?" "no trouble about that, i reckon," replied jack after a quick glance around. "these steep mountains shut things in kind of tight but just remember, brother, that these are not the old days, when ships needed a half mile down-grade runway so's to get up enough speed to be lifted from the ground and the same goes for an amphibian or seaplane." "hot ziggetty dog! guess you must mean the notched wings, eh, partner?" blurted out perk. "just so, and i calculate i can take her out of this hole in the mountains as slick as grease,--when we're ready to get busy," was jack's superbly confident declaration, said not as a boast, but with the calm assurance of one who knew what he was talking about. "wonder what did ail the boat to make that stick go dead so you couldn't get a wiggle outen it?" perk mused as though something brought his thoughts suddenly around to the fact that thus far neither of them had any thorough knowledge concerning this cause of the sudden forced landing. "we'll get around to that right away," the other told him, "but even if we should learn what we want to know, and must find out, there'd be no reason for us to climb out of this snug nest this afternoon that i can see." "bully for you, jack, ol' hoss, i was jest hopin' that'd be our programme. kinder took a likin' for these sweet little lakes an' wouldn't mind spendin' a night on the bank o' this one. might somethin' turn up to give us a whirl--never c'n tell, i guess, what's goin' on away off here in the wilds, where two-legged critters are as scarce as hens' teeth." that was the same old perk showing his deep-seated love for action. it had grown upon him over across the big water, at the time he was with the balloon corps in france, and became a part of his very nature ever since so that he could not keep from sighing for a change whenever stagnation set in. accordingly jack led the way and they began a minute examination of the stalled motor. both of them were more or less proficient in all matters connected with airplane engines, although it seemed as though a new species of trouble was springing up every little while, requiring fresh study in order to master the problem. a whole hour was spent in checking things up before jack discovered what ailed the hitherto perfect mechanism in which he had come to place the most implicit confidence. he proceeded to show perk what he had thus found out and to demonstrate the surest way to correct the fault. "after all, that's one on me," perk soon frankly admitted, "but i kinder guess you've solved the riddle, ol' hoss. next thing to find out is whether we c'n fix it out here so far from everything." "no great trouble about that, partner," said jack. "you play a while and let me dig around--not any too much room for two guys to work in and fact is i won't need any help--if i do i'll call you." "okay with me, jack, since our left wing jest tips the shore i guess i'll step off an' have a look around. everything looks quiet enough, so mebbe there'll be no need o' me luggin' that heavy machine-gun along." "suit yourself about that, partner," remarked jack in an absent-minded way, as though his thoughts were pretty much taken up with the job he had on hand. so perk went ashore and began to prowl around, that being one of his customary amusements when the opportunity presented itself. he walked here and there so as to get various glimpses of the glorious sheet of water--bent down and drank his fill, remarking upon its ice-cold character, coming as it did from melting snow on the caps of near-by mountains or possibly from some hidden glacier that dated back many centuries. all around him was a dead silence, broken from time to time by a chinking sound, made as he knew, by jack laboring at the stubborn motor. "huh! seems like this might be a dead country away up here," perk told himself as he continued to climb around among the masses of huge rocks that in the centuries past must have rolled down the abrupt slopes. "not a hoof or a claw movin', when i kinder spected to glimpse a bear mebbe or it might be a panther, p'raps a canada lynx." "hey perk!" he heard jack calling and then came the loud staccato notes of the motor, sounding as sweet music in perk's ears. xviii around the campfire the rejuvenated motor continued to sing most merrily as perk hastened to cover the back trail leading to the ship nesting upon the quiet lake. "huh! i jest knew jack could get the hang o' things," he told himself in high glee, "makes a big clatter i'll tell the world, but after you've been forced to drop down agin your will, they ain't nuthin' in natur so sweet as the drummin' o' a ship's motor. some fine day mebbe we'll have the good luck to be runnin' a boat with twin motors, so if one kicks off the duplicate c'n carry on." after he joined his mate and duly examined what jack had done, the sound of the beating motor ceased since there was no need of wasting any more juice to celebrate the happy occasion. "that trouble will never happen again with me," jack was saying with grim earnestness. "i know just how it must have come about and expect to put the kibosh on any repetition." "jest as you've said to me many a time, partner," perk spoke up, "an ounce o' prevention's a heap better'n a pound o' cure. learnin' somethin' new ev'ry day, seems like, but it's okay if on'y you keep the same trick from springin' up again an' gettin' your goat" they took things easy and lay around for another hour and more. jack, as usual, consulted his chart and did some figuring. perk, quite content to let the chief do most of the planning, amused himself in various ways, as was his habit when they were not flying. puttering with this little thing, poking around the stores as if to figure just how many more meals would exhaust what he had laid in so bountifully and bring them near starvation and tiring at length of this sort of thing he lapsed into inaction, puffing at his beloved pipe and indulging possibly in daydreams. once jack chanced to turn an inquiring eye in his direction to see him nodding his head, and counting his fingers, as though adding up some score. "at it again, i bet a cookey," jack thereupon told himself, holding back the casual remark he had intended making, "browsing on that same old game of trying to remember a name by going over the whole alphabet again and again. poor old perk, how that defective memory does bother him. he'll get no peace of mind until he happens to strike what he's fishing for and since i never did hear the boy's full name mentioned i just can't help him a mite." jack had guessed aright, for just then perk was saying to himself in a low but earnest tone, something of the old formula: "sufferin' cats! it sure began with an r i bet my boots! randolph, no, don't jest sound right to my ear--ratcliff, randall, ratterman--strikes me it ended in man--rodman--hang the luck, what the devil _is_ the matter with my think-box? did you ever know sech a tantalizin' mess--just openin' my trap to say it out loud when before i could get the right word out it slipped me like a wet cake o' soap on the bathroom floor when you set a foot on it. i'm sure hoodooed for keeps, an' it's no good." by this time the afternoon was wearing away and before long night would be putting a dark blanket over the deep notch in the mountains. perk suddenly came out of his fit of abstraction to remark cheerily: "guess now it's 'bout time i got busy ashore, an' started that 'ere fire. i gathered some firewood ready an' it ain't goin' to take much time to get supper goin'." accordingly he began to fill his arms with the things previously set aside, consisting for the most part of food, coffee pot, skillet and last but not least, the dependable machine-gun with which a provident government had fitted out its flying detective squad when starting them on their way to rounding up lawbreakers who were in many instances taking to the air. "call me when you're ready or need any help, brother," jack told him, he being still engaged in his extensive figuring and marking places on his handy little chart, as though mapping out his campaign as well as such a thing was possible. perk had his blaze going in almost record time, for he was an adept at fire-building. later on, from the delicious odors that came stealing to his olfactories, jack knew that supper was on the way. having by then finished his work, he laid things aside and for the next ten minutes watched the busy one on shore at his pleasing task. it was certainly a picture that was bound to arise again and again in jack's mind. the star-studded heavens against which towering mountain peaks were outlined, the lapping of little wavelets on the shore where there chanced to be a narrow strip of sandy beach, the neighboring small bunch of pines through which an evening breeze was sighing as if playing nature's eolian harp in a lullaby for the lately departed day, the rocky shore line, bordering that limpid gem of a lake where he could hear an occasional trout breaking water--taken in all it was a dream, as jack told himself more than a few times. "first call to supper--all that's hungry get goin' while things are hot! i ain't meanin' to wait more'n three shakes o' a lamb's tail 'fore i pitches in. hi! there, partner, shake a leg!" the bill of fare may not have been very extensive, but there was an abundance of substantial food and best of all ravenous appetites to be satiated. perk was as happy as a lark and a dozen times demanded of his comrade if he had ever partaken of anything that tasted better than the slice of ham with the fried eggs to give it the proper caper, after which the coffee came in for his flattery. "course i know right well it's awful f'r the cook to praise his own work, but i jest can't help sayin' it's a swell supper, taken in all. another piece o' fried ham, ol' pard, tho' sorry there ain't no more eggs at all--lucky what i laid by didn't get smashed in the runnin'--which goes to show what a good packer i am--might even get a job with that gang o' mule skinners an' their loads o' moonshine stuff." never had jack seen his chum more joyous as after he had filled up with the appetizing camp supper. he beamed on his mate and only for having laid in such a big supply of grub asserted he'd be tempted to try the fishing as there were surely trout in the lake from their incessant jumping along about sundown when insects skittered about on the surface and mealtime had come for the finny tribes. in the midst of his chattering perk suddenly stopped and appeared to be intently listening. "well, i guess now," he remarked, grinning, "i was away off my base when i says there ain't nary a wild animal inside o' twenty miles o' this spot 'cause listen to 'em yappin', will you, partner?" "wolves i reckon," observed jack who had also caught the distant sounds. "jest what they be," perk continued triumphantly, "an' sounds to me like they made some sort o' a killin' an' are all het up with the victory. there, died out like snuffin' a candle out, showin' they got started on the grub. queer what different tastes critters have. some like their venison raw while others aim to cook it to a turn over red coals an' chaw it while hot. but venison sure is _good_ any which way you cook it over a real camp-fire." jack saw him lick his lips with his tongue as though even the mention of that chief standby of a hunter's feast made his mouth water. perk certainly did think a heap of his eats, as he so often frankly admitted. they heard nothing further from the wolf pack but at least the circumstance had assured perk that the rocky mountain sides were not as lacking in big game as he had been convinced earlier in the evening. so too, no doubt he was telling himself that it might pay to keep his gun within reach when the time came for them to hit the hay as he usually termed the act of turning in. they remained ashore for another hour or so, just on account of the change. the rocks were anything but comfortable as a seat, but perk managed to find a quantity of moss near by which added to their ease when judiciously applied. finally jack proposed going aboard the ship. "me too, boss!" sang out perk, "'cause i'm sorter tired an' feel like gettin' rested up. things look okay to me an' mebbe we'll have a quiet night--if on'y them hungry wolves get filled up an' don't ketch wind o' our bein' in the neighborhood. hugh! if they know what's good for 'em they'll give this lakeshore a wide berth while me'n my ol' chattergun are on deck." xix perk gets a shock an hour later and both of them were sound asleep, having comfortable let-down cots in the sheltering cabin that were a wonderful improvement over the way they used to double-up in the cramped cockpit of the ship they handled before this fine amphibian was placed in their charge by uncle sam. the night moved on and for some hours nothing occurred to annoy them. perk had become addicted to waking about once so often and as a rule he used to sit up and yawn as he took a look around. it may have been an hour or so after midnight when, on thus arousing, he caught a sound that caused him to omit the customary yawn, though he certainly sat up with a jerk and appeared to be listening. almost mechanically too, his right hand groped for something alongside his cot and it was his gun he presently pulled up. the sounds he had heard once more broke out--savage, ominous sounds they were too, undoubtedly proceeding from one or more wild beasts aroused to a fighting spirit. "huh! bobcats, i'd say, if you asked me, neighbor, an' hoppin' mad in the bargain. must be a pair o' 'em an' they ain't mates either. guess now two ol' rivals must a met head-on along some trail an' each is a sassin' t' other, darin' him to knock a chip off'n his shoulder an' see what he gets. gosh amighty! but wouldn't i jest like to lamp that 'ere duel the wust kind, but i knows aheap better'n to set out an' spy on 'em. just as like as not they'd forget all their mad agin' each other an' set on me for keeps. thar they go agin, licketty-split, snarlin', screechin' and scrappin' for all that's out. i'm tellin' the wide world the hair's sure flyin' in big patches while _that_ caterwaulin' keeps grindin' out." it kept perk sitting there fully ten minutes before finally dying out nor did he ever know whether one or both quarreling creatures had been extinguished, like the famous cats of kilkenny, each of which thought "there was one cat too many." "some circus, b'lieve me," perk told himself, with many a chuckle, for he had been vastly amused and entertained by that aggregation of furious sounds, "but it's okay with me so long's they scrap 'mong themselves an' leave us alone. i ain't lost no kitty as i know of, an' there's some more sleep i c'n make use of if they put the brakes on their whoopin' things up." with that he snuggled down once more and forgot all his troubles for the balance of the night. if there were any further ancient feuds still to be settled among the old-time inhabitants of that section, perk was unaware of the slaughter for he did not open his eyes until the first peep of dawn announced the coming of another day. jack still slept, it would seem, for he lay there like a mummy while perk proceeded to crawl out and get into his clothes with the full intention of slipping ashore, reviving the fire and starting to prepare breakfast. apparently his enormous supper of the previous evening must have digested and that awful vacuum he detested so much was already calling for help. he chanced to have a sore toe that gave him a painful twitch every little while and not feeling disposed to tramp around collecting fuel until he had remedied this physical distress, he sat down to pull off his footgear and fasten a little wad of cotton between the offending member and its neighbor. once while thus busily engaged perk imagined he caught a slight thud, as of something striking a root or fallen branch. he raised his head to listen, with those ravenous timber wolves flashing into his mind but then everything seemed nice and quiet again so that believing he had only imagined he heard suspicious sounds he once more bent down to complete his little task. then, without hardly any warning, there suddenly burst forth the most diabolical sound perk had ever heard in all his life. something similar to the braying of army mules over in france, he thought. perk probably felt his blood run cold, for that frightful racket was not more than twenty feet distant. wildly he stared, expecting to see some savage beast, perhaps with the stripes of a real jungle tiger, come leaping from behind the adjacent rock heaps and make directly for him, unarmed as he was. regaining the use of his limbs perk turned tail and made for the friendly left wing of the ship, taking huge jumps and anticipating that some supple body was apt to land on his back despite his haste. jack was there in full sight and worse luck, he did not even seem to have thought to snatch up the handy gun when that frightful roar echoed and re-echoed up and down hill in the valley of the silver lake. "g--et th' gun, quick--tigers, lions, an' nobody knows what not--on the rampage to beat the band, too!" jack stared and then seemed to fairly double-up as though to him there might be something worth laughing at in the hurried retreat of his pal. "he's more scared than you can be, perk!" he managed to cry out. "see him making off, will you, taking steps that are nearly as long as your own. watch him shake those new horns of his, as if to tell you he'd be willing to fight it out only his head pieces are so new like, and soft!" "w-hy--what in tarnation thunder is that big monster, jack?" gasped the astonished perk, staring with all his might after the towering beast that was passing out of sight around a vast mound of tumbledown rocks. "only a bull moose, partner--he must have heard you make some sound and reckoned it was an old rival of his, which was what made him give that roar. i never ran across a moose up to now, but i know what they can do. if it had been in the fall of the year, when his horns, just rutting lately, were firm and hard, you'd have had him jumping you mighty quick." "wow! he _had_ me jumpin' even as it was," confessed honest perk, deigning now to break into a silly grin since the supposed danger was past and the coast clear. "he's some jim dandy i'd say an' mebbe i wouldn't like to knock a bull moose over. used to hear about 'em when i was a kid up in maine and over the line in canada too (but never met one o' the breed before). bet you that ol' boy c'n run a blue streak too, once he lets go. well, since there ain't any tigers at large nor yet a catamount lyin' in ambush, guess i orter go ashore again an' hurry up my fire. breakfast ready in ten minutes, 'member, jack ol' hoss." while working over his fire and starting breakfast perk must have been sketching in his mind the nerve racking encounter so lately in the spot-light, for once he stopped doing what he was engaged in, to look seriously up at the blue sky where a few floating white clouds had taken on a faint pink blush, showing that the rising sun was not far below the horizon though not scheduled to appear to any one in that deep valley for several hours yet--then he might have been heard holding communion with himself and saying: "i kinder guess moose steak wouldn't taste so bad but then what's the use o' cryin' over spilt milk? mister moose has skipped out an' then jack wouldn't let me shoot, even if the ol' critter hung around lookin' for trouble. didn't he say the close season was on with all game that you c'n eat and that the mounties might get me if i took chances and nailed that big boy? oh well! i'm all to the good and no tellin' what he might have done to me if we got mixed up in a sure enough scrap." breakfast was almost as enjoyable as supper had been--not just wholly so for no one is ever quite so hard pressed by hunger in the early morning as seems to be the case toward close of day when all cares are tossed aside. jack did not appear to be in any hurry to leave the scene of their night's bivouac for he puttered around, doing numerous small chores that, according to perk's mind, could have just as well been postponed to another time without the sky falling. "ain't she ready to take the air, boss?" he finally demanded when he could stand it no longer, whereupon jack looked up smilingly and nodded. "everything's as fine as silk, brother, and since it's getting along, perhaps we'd better be on our way." "huh! that's the line o' patter i'm longin' to hear from you, partner," perk broke out in positive relief. "i'm a bit leery 'bout puttin' in a second night alongside this lake. might have a twenty-foot anaconda drop down on us while we sat outside an' smoked. now don't tell me they ain't no sech animal hereabouts, 'cause i know that as well as you do but just the same i'm glad we're goin' to climb outen here pronto." xx the fur-trading station possibly perk may have been a little troubled in his mind lest they run up against difficulties when trying to climb out of that tiny valley walled with those titanic mountains massed all around. his faith in the ability of his comrade to surmount ordinary difficulties and aviation perplexities buoyed him up and he failed to register any outward signs of undue anxiety. his confidence was well placed for aided by the excellent working of the crate's slotted wings and his knowledge concerning their control, jack was enabled to start boring up toward the sky almost as soon as the amphibian quitted the placid bosom of the crystal lake. a few circles and they had risen so that it was possible to see beyond the peaks by which they were surrounded. "that's the boy--beautifully done, i'll tell the gapin' world--an' what a good feelin' it gives a flyer to know he's on the wing once more after bein' knocked down by a dead-stick swattin' him. glad now i snapped off them two pictur's jest when we was leavin' the lake under us." "same here partner," chimed in jack, "for i'll always have a kindly feeling for that little cup of water set in that hole among the mountains like it might be a precious diamond in a platinum ring." "huh! i'd like to said that same thing, buddy," perk told his mate, "on'y it ain't in my blood to spout poetry you see but a feller c'n _feel_ it in his heart, mebbe, even when he jest can't say it." "which is as true as anything can be," vowed jack who was well aware of the limitations of his chum and could appreciate his good points, even if in some ways perk seemed a bit dumb. they were soon on their course as laid out by the head pilot and making into the north at fair speed. perk amused himself for some little time in carrying out his accustomed duties, which were numerous and so essential they must not be neglected. later on jack, realizing that perk was no longer moving around with his customary bustle, managed to steal a glance in his direction to discover that the other was snuggled down and seemed to be gazing at something he held in his hand, as though wrestling with a weighty problem. jack immediately understood, for the object at which perk stared so earnestly happened to be the small photograph he had received from the youngster whom he, perk, had carried across that queer little bridge made of two ironing-boards when the tenement was burning in salt lake city. he would turn it over so as to read the name written in a female hand on the back--"adrian, at six years," and then quickly reverse the card as if he hoped to instinctively pronounce the last part of the lad's name that seemed to elude his memory with such disgusting pertinacity. but apparently even that idea failed to work, for jack heard no triumphant whoop break from his companion's lips as he felt certain would be the case should he hit what he was after. the old saying, all signs fail in dry weather, was applicable in perk's case, it seemed. still, such are the vagaries of the human memory that he was likely to suddenly utter the word he wanted just as he opened his eyes after a nap. it often comes about that way as many persons can testify. jack shook his head and grinned, muttering to himself meanwhile: "queer how poor old perk does get so twisted up with names and he's so dogged about it he never will give in till he gets what he's after. always makes me think of that ad. i used to see in the magazines about some kind of toilet soap. a baby in his little tub stretching out a hand to lay hold of a cake of soap and underneath the words: 'he'll never be happy till he gets it.' that's my pal perk to a fraction--wish i could give him the high sign but since i never heard the name it's beyond my ken. but anyway it gives him something to play with, like a baby's rattle and how he does hang on to it." so perk kept on staring goggle-eyed at that picture, just as if it mattered as much as three cents whether he ever again heard of the boy or his mother, both of whom jack had somehow made up his mind, were evidently engaged in a search for some missing party who was especially dear to them but whose identity was now, and probably always would be, a complete mystery to the pair who had befriended them on that night of the fire. "after all," perk finally said, and jack could easily catch every word, thanks to the useful earphone apparatus they had on, "we did have a fine time o' it--you made the neatest dead-stick landin' i ever seen put through--we had a glorious supper an' a nice night in camp as i might say--glimpsed a' ol' galliwampus o' a big bull-moose on the gallop--it'd jest be complete if on'y i had a decent head on me so's to grab that name--adrian--adrian what--shucks?" jack did not say a single word lest he start the other to worrying again. it might seem such a trifling matter to any outsider but to perk it meant that he was growing old--that his memory, never any too good, had taken to going back on him worse than ever. the further they worked into the north the more uninhabited did the wild region seem to become. earlier in their flight they were able to occasionally discover an isolated log-cabin marking the lonely home of some venturesome white trapper and when these isolated shelters were still occupied by their owners there would be a column of wood smoke rising above the adjacent timber that made things seem a bit homelike, but for the last hour perk had not picked up the slightest clue to human existence in all that vast wilderness, though he plied his glasses most industriously in hopes of breaking the spell. "must be drawing close to the fur-trading post, i'd reckon, eh partner?" jack suddenly demanded at which the other nodded vigorously in the affirmative and followed this up by saying emphatically: "just what we are ol' hoss. i've seen a number o' things to tell me it's close by here--f'r instance, take a peek at them three cones standin' out there in a triangle off to the west--many a time i've sat an' smoked an' watched the clouds coverin' the lowest peak while on a log in front o' old jimmy mcgregor's log cabin store. jest a trifle more to the east, partner, an' chances are we'll be settin' eyes on frazer's post inside ten minutes at the most." that was certainly cheery information for jack to hear from his companion who was familiar with much of that country from having ridden over the mountain trails when spending several years in the service of the northwest mounted police force. perk seemed to be more and more amazed by the fact of their striking the far distant point as though drawn by some magnet, for a minute later he broke loose again. "there, i 'member that little canyon where the trail runs through--got my first caribou right on that spot--a herd was passin' an' i came on the bunch as they turned a corner. what makes me sit up an' take notice is how we've come all the way up here, hundreds an' hundreds o' miles, straight as a die an' inside o' forty-eight hours, i guess i might call it, when in them days it'd taken me a month anyway to cover the same distance on hossback. they fetches the supplies to the post here by way o' the river an' then by carry. huh! we're livin' in a great age, strikes me, partner. now, get ready to take a look-in at the first fur-tradin' station you ever did see 'cause it's jest beyond that little rise with the timber hidin' the fort. hot ziggetty dog! i never did think i'd be up here in this country again." jack also felt a little thrill of expectancy as they sped onward for in another minute or so they should be passing directly over the place perk had pointed out with such assurance. the trip had thus far been as successful as any one could hope for and their success in finding the needle in a haystack, as perk had once called their mission, was to be considered a feather in the cap of the pilot. then all of a sudden he heard perk give utterance to a loud cry as of dismay, coupled with astonishment. "hey! what's all this mean? look at that outhouse smoulderin' like it's been burned down inside o' last night! an' that little bunch o' fellers standin' there like they meant to skedaddle at hearin' us comin' with sech a racket! jack, i tell you somethin's sure happened around these diggin's! been some sorter o' deviltry afoot an' ten to one that same crazy hawk's the guy that's broke loose! mebbe now we jest got here in time to break into the game." xxi old jimmy, the factor it hardly needed these vigorous words from the startled perk to tell jack something unusual was the matter at the trading post. just as his comrade had declared, some sort of minor building was smouldering, smoke ascending in lazy spirals and occasionally a tiny burst of flame telling where a fresh bit of unburned wood must have fallen to the heat still hanging over the ruins. then too, the actions of the parties standing in a clump near the general store and fur repository added to his belief for they did look very much disturbed as if almost tempted to make a break for the shelter of the nearby forest. that was easily understood, for up to the present time it must have been a rare event for an airplane to come circling over that remote trading post--indeed, perhaps never before had such a thrilling event occurred. "jack, you're meanin' to drop down, ain't you?" sang out the worried perk. "i reckon to," came the steady answer, "when you've shown me the open field you said lay close by--that was even enough for a fairly decent landing." "why, there it is right now, partner--over on the right, this side o' the tall timber yonder," and perk thrust out a hand so as to make his meaning quite clear. "i see it perk, boy, and must take your word for it we'll have a chance to make contact without a spill. we've got to find out what's been going on around here lately, that's about all there is to it." "i c'n jest wager it's some dirty work o' that timber wolf, hawk," asserted the other vigorously, "an' if he's so much as hurt a hair o' ol' jimmy mcgregor's gray head it's goin' to cost him dear, an' that's no lie either!" jack said nothing further, just paid strict attention to his business. he was scanning the rather contracted field so as to figure where he should drop down, with a bit of open space ahead for a short run after hitting the earth. he had made several circles around the place before coasting earthward as his severe training as a pilot had taught him to do ere making the last dip. in another half minute the wheels had struck and the amphibian was slowing up in its forward thrust. both of them hastily detached the 'phones from their heads for they could see that some of the men, mostly trappers, jack imagined from their rough dress, were commencing to push toward the spot where the visitor from the clouds lay almost motionless, having withstood such shaking-up as followed the rough landing. the first thing that jack noticed was the fact that there was an eager look on several of the leather-like faces of the advancing group. he rather imagined they had been cherishing a wild hope the airship might disgorge several figures in the well-known uniforms of the mounties and that their recent rough treatment at the hands of the outlaws would soon be avenged. "hi! what's been goin' on 'round the post here, boys?" shouted perk as the small group drew near. "hello! birdseye baker, glad to see you're still on deck--ain't forgot gabe perkiser, have you, oldtimer?" the tall, stoop-shouldered man with the long hair whom perk addressed stared hard and then came closer. "if it ain't perk hisself!" he exclaimed, to immediately add: "back on the old job agin, be ye--but why ain't ye in uniform--an' whar be the rest o' the mounties--we need 'em right smart i'm tellin' ye, boy!" "who's been handlin' you rough, brother?" asked perk sympathetically. "cap. hawk an' his gang. ain't been gone more'n three hours--stole all my whole season's ketch o' pelts an' robbed old jimmy o' his money an' a heap o' stores 'sides. i kinder feel like i'm meanin' to skip out o' this blasted kentry if so be they jest can't nab that wild critter, 'er else make him turn up his toes. what ails the mounties, i wanter know, when they slip up on a job like this? don't seem like the days when ye was workin' in the outfit, gabe perkiser." "hold out a little longer, birdseye, ol' hoss!" exclaimed perk jerking off goggles and helmet, "mebbe it'll all come out okay. they's things on the programme that're goin' to cut a big figger in this game. just you wait an' see 'fore you cuss the mounties black an' blue." then, as if noting the absence of old jimmy the factor, perk continued, looking anxiously around: "but where's jimmy right now, i want to know? 'taint like him to be stickin' in his coop yonder when strangers come to town!" "he's on his back, perk--got into ruction with them bushrangers an' they tore him up somethin' scandalous. nuthin' real dangerous, get me, but he sure needs the attention o' a doc. i'm told they's sech a man up to the fort name o' hamilton but we ain't no way o' gettin' word to him in a hurry." "that's okay, ol' hoss," said perk quickly, "my boss here, mister john jacob astorbilt is aimin' to strike fort laney, hopin' to get some big game shootin' thereabouts. we c'n fetch the sawbones back with us if so be he's still around." "good boy, perk," said the old fur-trapper enthusiastically, "but come in an' see the old man--he'll be right glad to meet up with ye again--often talked 'bout ye when i kim back from my trap line in the spring." perk looked as happy as a schoolboy carrying home _her_ books for the first time--showing that after all he was not quite so hard-boiled as he wished to appear and that a little flattery could bring the blushes to his well tanned weather-stained cheeks. "let's go, partner," he said motioning to jack who had been listening to all this talk with increasing interest, since it had more or less to do with the lawless actions of the desperado whom he had been dispatched to bring back to the states so as to be returned to leavenworth penitentiary, with considerably more time added to his original sentence. the moment they entered the post they could easily see that something like an eruption must have occurred only recently. everything was upset as though there had been a thorough search made for hidden treasure. piles of dried pelts lay scattered around, the richer prizes having evidently been carried off. the raiders had doubtless shown rare discrimination as though among their number were those who themselves had once been trappers and therefore knew all about the value of black fox pelts, sables and mink that bring such top-notch prices in the fur markets of st. louis and other busy places in the country. birdseye baker led them through all this mess straight over to the door communicating with the factor's private room. this apartment also looked as if an earthquake of first dimensions had struck it and over on a cot against the further log wall they could see a man with a gray beard holding himself up on his elbow, having evidently heard strange voices and being filled with curiosity as well as wonder as to what all the fresh row was about. "hello there, uncle jimmy!" sang out perk breezily as he pushed ahead with outstretched hand. "ain't quite forgot gabe perkiser, have you, ol' top? sorry to hear what's happened to you an' as me an' my boss, mister john jacob astorbilt here, mean to head for the fort right away, we aim to get thet medicine man back to look after you. it happens we got a cloud chasin' airship waitin' outside to carry us wherever we wanter go." the old scotch factor looked as pleased as a man suffering from recent severe injuries might be expected to under the circumstances. he allowed the newcomer to squeeze his hand and even took jack's who fancied the other from the first--the stern honesty of the man from bonny scotland was to be seen in his clear eye and undismayed look. "they treated me some scandalous, perk," the injured man was saying with a quirk, but little in the way of scotch brogue cropping up in his speech, "but ye ken i'm a tough old bird and have pulled out o' many a bad scrape in the past so it may be i'll weather this knockout, if only that doctor can gi'e me a fair start." "hamilton, they say his name is," ventured perk, musingly, "somehow i don't 'member the name, so like as not he must be a new one around here since i kicked out some years ago." "ay; that's the truth, laddie--he dropped in on us something like a year back, sayin' he was sick o' civilization and a' its cheats and wanted to live out his life where the primitive ways still held forth. i am o' the opinion the man must have met with some serious trouble--had his wife run awa' with a younger chap, more'n likely, as they sometimes do, ye ken. but for a' that he's a clever physician and he'll pull me out o' this slump if on'y he can be fetched before it's too late." xxii picking up clues "make your mind easy on that score, uncle jimmy," perk went on to say as he bent over the wounded man, "we'll get up to the river post and my ol' haunts in a rush, pullin' out inside the hour an' either fetch the doctor back with us in the ship or on hossback, all that dependin' on how things happen to be with colonel ascot, who i understand is still in charge o' the mounties." perk gave his mate a questioning glance as he said this, and was pleased to see jack nod in the affirmative, as though thus putting the seal of his approval to the plan as given by his assistant. "an' now, ol' friend," perk continued in a soothing fashion, for he knew the scotch nature of the other and could understand how the mcgregor must be inwardly fuming concerning the robbery that had taken place and the losses to the great fur company of which he was an old and efficient official, "'fore we pull outen here you must let my boss take a look at them cuts an' bruises. it happens he's a fair surgeon--amatoor one, i mean--an' could fix you up to carry on till the reg'lar doc gets here. how 'bout that, jack?" if either the factor or the ancient trapper noticed the rather odd familiarity existing between perk and his supposedly wealthy employer, it did not strike them as strange--away up in this jumping-off place, as far as civilization was concerned, men were more or less equals, being judged more from what their accomplishments might be than from their money and besides, they doubtless remembered that perk had always been a sort of free and easy independent fellow when with the mounties. "that's just about what we aim to do, perk," jack immediately told the other. "i don't claim to be much of a surgeon, but if there's anything i can do to stop the bleeding, or bind up the cuts, i'll be only too glad to lend a helping hand, mr. mcgregor." he was as good as his word for inside of five minutes jack had stripped off his coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves and commenced to examine the injuries suffered by the determined old factor when he dared take his life in his hands and try to defend the property of his employers. it turned out that there were some pretty bad cuts and it was a wonder no fatal blows had been given for there could be little doubt that the aggressors shot and stabbed in a most reckless fashion. but evidently the factor's luck held good and jack did not feel as though there was much danger of a fatal ending to the affair, providing no blood poisoning set in. he called for warm water and clean cotton, which, being provided, he started to cleanse the wounds and apply some healing salve. so confidently did he work that the quaint looking old trapper, birdseye, watching everything with wonder, might have been seen to nod his shaggy mane approvingly as though in his private opinion the young fellow was some surgeon indeed. as he thus worked jack entered into conversation with the factor, having two good reasons for doing so. he wished to distract the attention of his patient from himself and also to extract as much information as possible covering the recent raid. a description of the miscreants was given and especially of their savage leader known as the hawk because of his faculty for striking a swift blow in one place and being heard of in another in such a short time as to make people believe he could fly like the speedy bird of prey. "as far as i could say," old jimmy told him in answer to a question, "he's along about thirty years old, a shortish sort o' a man, quick as a flash in his movements and with eyes that bore in like a gimlet might. he's had his nose broken at some time or other, which gives him a bit o' a look like an eagle or a hawk. it may be he got his present name from that. but he's a devil, i'm thinking and ready to do anything, law or no law when he smells rich booty in the game." jack gave perk a knowing look accompanied by a wink for that description, brief though it might be, coincided with what had been in the secret information sent by his chief at washington--the broken nose stamped it as a positive thing that the man he wanted was close at hand, engaged in his same old line of business, that of a hold-up man, robber of banks and payroll bandit with a record for masterly exploits second to none. so too with regard to the sudden surprise and attack--it seemed as though the marauders must have had accurate information as to when the trading post would prove to be a rich prize and also weakly defended. "they had their plans a' set, i am fain to believe," the factor told him as though he had somehow figured this out during the time he lay there on his cot, "for ye ken it is only a few days now when the customary spring clean-up o' the posts come to pass so they would know we had rich pickings on hand. they lookit over the whole o' the bales an' picked out a' the high-priced pelts like they might be connoiseurs in that line, for i recognised two former trappers in the gang--squatty bings an' welchy, as tough an' hard drinkin' lads as ever lived." "i've been told they left here just about three hours back--is that correct, mr. mcgregor?" asked jack, wishing to make certain, for a great deal might depend on the question of elapsed time. "i am no so sure, for i have not looked at my watch since being carried in the house," the factor informed him, "but birdseye here would know, for he and the others were being herded in a bunch and kept under several guns. that was after i had been so badly mauled and lay helpless on the ground outside. they were in no great hurry--took their time, feasted on a' the food they could stow away--did a lot more up in bundles and wi' the choice pelts as well as a stock o' ammunition, finally pulled out, leaving the few men next to helpless since their guns had been carried awa'." taken in all, with a little imagination thrown in for good measure, jack could picture the stirring happening as the outlaws, having accomplished all they planned to do, pulled up stakes and with jeering shouts as well as waving their hats defiantly, left the scene of their daring foray. "they certainly had their inning," he observed as he finished his fairly decent surgical work and rose to his feet, "but i've an idea they're due for a little surprise before long when the tables may be turned. i came up here to hunt big game and if it happens to run on two legs, why, what's the odds? a lot depends on how the colonel of the mounties happens to figure when he learns what's been going on around here--how these scoundrels are snapping their fingers and saying to the devil with the mounties, whose glory has departed. i'm wondering just how it comes the hawk and his crowd have been able to stave off arrest this long and if the reputation of your famous northwest police force has indeed been eclipsed." "don't you b'lieve that for a second, jack!" cried the aroused perk, jealous concerning the fame of the organization of which he used to be a proud member, "chances are they've been after this bunch right along an' even now may be settin' plans to net the hull gang--how 'bout that, uncle jimmy?" "there have been a number of fierce fights within the past year between colonel ascot's troopers and the hawk's gang--indeed, two of the mounties have lost the number of their mess and three others had to be sent to the hospital at winnipeg, seriously wounded in the encounters. this hawk is said to be the toughest nut ever doing business in all this great region. he seems to bear a charmed life and bullets fail to bring him down. the chances are, when you reach the post, it will be to find that some sort of expedition is off on a seemingly warm trail for whenever the hawk plans to make one of his brilliant raids he always fixes things so that the troopers will at the same hour be many miles away, heading for some threatened post and out of communication." jack seemed very well satisfied with what he had gleaned--having been dispatched these many hundreds of miles just to apprehend this bandit, it pleased him to know what a thorn in the flesh leonard culpepper was proving to be in the lives of the guardians of the northwest territory. perk too, was grinning as if his thoughts might be rather pleasant. "huh! if that skunk could be picked up an' carried back to the states where he belongs," he went on to say with a chuckle, "i kinder guess colonel ascot he'd sleep some sounder. wall, let's hope it'll come to pass afore many more days slip by." apparently neither old jimmy nor yet the ancient skin-gatherer birdseye noticed how perk, a new-comer, seemed to know something they had never before heard, about the hawk having drifted up from across the border but then in all the excitement taking place within the last few hours such a slip could pass unnoticed. xxiii the northwest mounted police post it was now high time they were once more afloat. jack was well content to be on the wing since apparently nothing more was to be picked up at the devastated trading post. he and perk should be heading for the station of the mounties, so as to inform their commander with regard to what had happened at frazer's, further south. accordingly, after telling the old factor not to worry as they meant to start the mounties on the way to the scene of the outrage with the least possible delay, both he and perk pressed the hand of the wounded man and passed outside, followed by the admiring birdseye who would never cease from sounding the praises of jack's surgical work. the next thing to concern the pals was in line with their expected hop-off. would it be possible to make the jump from such a wretched field, with its many bumpy spots calculated to cause the moving craft to wobble fiercely? together they walked over the anticipated course, examining the nature of the ground, to toss aside, when possible, such rocks as threatened to jar them seriously. when finally they had thus surveyed the entire stretch, jack pronounced the decision in which his comrade concurred--that although they would assume some risks, still in the course of their experiences in the past both of them had successfully climbed out of even worse traps than the one they were now up against. so they went aboard, watched by every living creature about the post saving old jimmy himself. as usual jack checked his dials and the motor with a skill that only comes from long experience added to that peculiar air-minded wizardry possessed by just a few pilots, like lindbergh. "okay boss?" inquired perk, picking up the ear-phones as if ready to adjust them to his head because it might be necessary for them to exchange remarks soon after they started, and according to perk's mind it was very essential they should be prepared. "here we go!" came the answer, upon which the motor took hold and the big ship started forward, followed by the cheers of birdseye and his fellows although these grew fainter as the amphibian went bumping along, increasing its pace as jack saw fit to pull back the stick against his breast, until just as they finally lost contact with the ground, the racket of motor and propeller smothered all other sounds completely. they were off to a safe start and no damage done. perk settled down in his seat ready to take up his accustomed duties although he felt convinced everything was in apple-pie condition aboard the boat. their course was a point off due north, perk having coached his mate with regard to that important matter. besides, from their lofty lookout point it would soon be easy enough to discern the post known as fort laney for it lay on one of the small rivers that emptied into the mackenzie, itself starting in great slave lake. perk could not but remark upon the changes that were gradually taking place in the country the further north they went. this struck him as wonderful, for although he had spent several years in this region, never before had he been privileged to take such a sweeping survey of the landscape as on the present occasion for heretofore he had been upon the ground where rocky mountains and all manner of huge obstacles obstructed the view and restricted the vision. he could figure out just about in what quarter the peace river lay, a place he had good occasion to remember since one of the most stirring adventures connected with his service in the mounties had taken place on its banks. so too, was he able to look in the direction whence must lie the town of simpson, on the great mackenzie, some hundred miles or more distant as the crow flies. there was also great bear lake, another body of water he had looked upon, and which must stir up other vivid memories for events in which he had taken a leading part, connected with the arrest of a notorious halfbreed, terrorizing the region roundabout, had brought him rather close to a fade-out since he met with serious wounds in the resulting scrimmage before he and his pal were able to overcome the desperado. in this way perk was indulging in recollections of past events that seemed very agreeable, to judge from the beaming smile he wore as he kept using the binoculars in order to pick out familiar scenes as they loomed upon his vision from time to time. then all at once perk showed positive signs of excitement. "hi! there partner, let me take the controls for a spell! want you to have the glasses and pick up that caribou jumpin' off away yonder jest on t'other side o' them birches that stand out so white'n clear." jack lost no time in doing as he was bidden for thus far it had never been his good fortune to glimpse a real caribou outside of a zoo and the thought of watching one on its native heath and feeding ground gave him quite a little thrill. "get him yet?" demanded perk anxiously, seeing that jack was moving the binoculars along as though their swift passage was carrying them past the patch of birch trees. "sure do, buddy," admitted the other, to add: "looks like he might be close enough to eat out of my hand--keepin' an eye on this crate all right, as if he didn't just like our looks. there, he sprang off like an express train on the transcontinental railroad and i've lost him in the thick bush. i'd like to knock over one of his breed while we're up here but hardly think i'd be justified in staying around a single day longer than is absolutely necessary." it turned out, however, jack did get an opportunity to do that very thing, but of which event more anon. he again took over the stick, being desirous of handling the ship when later on they reached the river post and started to drop down on the stream for a stop-over, long or short, neither of them knew just then. ten minutes later perk made his announcement. "i c'n make out the barracks as plain as anything, with the river just beyond. we'll be there in a jiffy, partner! how it all comes back to me, the interestin' life i led up here with the boys--i'll sure miss that davis lad who, i learned, was one o' the pair got killed in the fight with that bloody-minded hawk. claude davis had an old mother livin' in toronto, an' many a time he used to tell me things 'bout his fambly that made me think i knowed the hull passel o' 'em. poor old lady, it must a near killed her when she heard how her lad laid down his life for his country. i always did claim these splended mounties up here, forever ready to take great risks to protect the scattered settlers, are soldiers jest as much as those o' us who served in the big scrap across the atlantic. but look ahead, jack, an' you c'n see the post now with the naked eye. yeah, and as sure as you live there's a mounty steppin' up from the boats, carryin' what looks to me like a string o' fish! gee whiz! how many times did i furnish the fish course for lots o' dinner messes. seems like 'twas on'y yesterday, or the day 'fore, since i put my teeth in a cold-water fish from that river which empties into the polar sea." presently they were circling the post, running out over the river which jack was eyeing closely, as if to make certain it offered plenty of excellent opportunities toward making a landing. at least he had been assured there was sufficient water at almost any point to answer their purpose, the stream being high at this particular season of the year when so much snow had been melting all through the watershed which the river drained. "see," cried the alert perk, "sev'ral more o' the crowd have rushed out o' the barracks, knowin' from the shouts that chap set up somethin' out o' the ordinary was on the bills. but jest the same i kinder guess a bunch o' the boys must be away right now. what did we hear 'bout that cunnin' snake, the hawk gen'rally outsmartin' the mounties by makin' a sham attack on some place so's to send a posse whoopin' thataways while he proceeded to play his own game unmolested fifty miles away, an' never a uniform in sight?" "going down--lower floor--hold your breath, perk!" cried the pilot as he shut off the engine and, thrusting the nose of his craft sharply downward, proceeded to start a swift dive toward the river a thousand feet below. perk could not restrain his enthusiasm, but standing half erect waved his hat excitedly, also letting loose a few frightfully loud yells that must have been eye-openers to the several uniformed mounties standing close to the river's edge, watching in sheer amazement the swoop of the descending aerial cabin plane. xxiv ready to start a splash, a short run upstream and the amphibian was riding the little waves like a duck. then as jack once more turned on his power they taxied in close to the bank where a wing would serve as a gang-plank to get them ashore. "hello! ol' hoss red lowden!" bawled perk, in a glow of excitement. one of the mounties, with the marks of a sergeant on his sleeve, exhibited great excitement at hearing himself thus addressed so familiarly by a party who, up to that moment, he had not recognized owing chiefly to the aviator's goggles and helmet, which were now hastily removed as perk jumped ashore. "gabe perkiser!" the sergeant gasped, apparently staggered at learning the identity of one of the flyers. they met and shook hands with enthusiasm, for in those days of old they had been boon companions. perk put a finger on his lips. "go slow 'bout callin' me by that name, brother," he told the other, half under his breath. "jest now i'm sailin' under false colors, as you might say. i'm in uncle sam's secret service, an' known as gabe smith, a maine woods guide in the employ o' a rich gent, a real sport an' big game hunter--let me introduce him to you red--mister john jacob astorbilt," and with the last word he gave the wearer of the uniform a wicked wink that spoke volumes to red, who nodded and shook hands with jack. he could give a pretty clever guess as to who and what this determined looking young fellow must be and the story could keep until a more convenient season. "glad to meet you, mr. astorbilt," he went on to say aloud for the benefit of the two other mounties hovering close by with the design of being made acquainted with the newcomers. they were both wise and seasoned members of the force, although perk was meeting them for the first time and thus judged they had been transferred from another post during his absence. "i hope colonel ascot is well," remarked jack softly as he stood there close beside red lowden, "i am anxious to meet him, for i have a strong suspicion he will be deeply interested in certain documents i am bearing with me, both from ottawa in your dominion here and also from my big boss at washington, d. c." the other, who was a sturdy specimen of canadian manhood, with the eye of a hawk, nodded his head and looked wise as he hastened to say: "wait till i introduce you to these members of our patrol and then i'll lead you to the colonel, who is doing a bit of official correspondence inside his office close by." this was soon accomplished and as the sportsman in search of fresh thrills jack met the couple of mounties. leaving perk chatting with them he followed the sergeant into the long, low log barracks where in a cubbyhole at the end they found a tall, severe looking man, dressed in the garb of an officer, seated at a desk and busily engaged in writing. he must have heard all the commotion outside connected with the arrival of the cloud-chaser, but being deeply interested in what he was writing and too much given to decorum to display any vulgar curiosity, he had remained there. but after all he turned out to be very much a gentleman as well as a fine disciplinarian, as jack speedily learned for after he had explained just who he was and what the nature of his long flight into the wilderness contemplated, he found colonel ascot vastly interested and sympathetic. red lowden had discreetly withdrawn, saluting as he went so jack and the commandant of the frontier post were alone in the office. "i wish to assure you, young man," observed the colonel again cordially squeezing jack's hand, "you are bringing me the finest possible news. this knave has been playing the very devil around the whole sector and so far has had us guessing. the hardest nut we've had to crack in the entire term of my service in the corps. if by any great luck we can combine our forces and accomplish his capture, i shall feel myself in your debt beyond measure." jack was gratified at hearing these frank and hearty words. "i have a companion with me, colonel," he further observed, "a reliable chap in the bargain and a clever aviator. he once had the honor to serve under you up here--gabe perkiser." he saw a pleased expression flit across the grim face of the commandant and judged that perk must have been something of a favorite with the colonel. "glad to hear that, sir," the latter told his visitor, nodding his head in approval. "perk was a credit to the uniform all the time he was with us in our job of rounding up disturbers of the peace and guarding honest men against such rascals and blackguards as continually drift up to this country. they seem to think its loneliness will guarantee them immunity from the long arm of the law they have flaunted. i'll be pleased to see him again--and in the service you represent so creditably, as i can well imagine." "we look for a bit of assistance from your force, colonel," continued jack, "and you will find your authority for giving us a helping hand in these documents from your head office," with which he handed the other a small packet of official looking papers. "i can take everything you say for granted, mr.--er astorbilt but am sorry you have dropped in on us at a most unfortunate time, since the majority of my men are away--there came a sudden call for assistance at a little settlement of newcomers some fifty miles distant--it was believed a raid was contemplated by this desperado, the hawk. the letter was signed by a man whom i happened to know stood in the light of a leader in that community, and although i may have had my secret misgivings i felt compelled to start a squad off late last evening. they will hardly get back here under the best of conditions for another forty-eight hours; and even at that their mounts will be far from fresh for another wild dash." jack had even figured on something like this coming to pass, and in his mind laid out a plan of campaign. "we have come direct from the frazer trading-post, colonel," he hastened to explain; "it was taken by trickery last night, the old factor seriously wounded, and the post robbed of everything of value, including precious pelts, food, ammunition, and all else." colonel ascot looked greatly annoyed. "then my fears were justified," he went on to say, with a grimace, and a shrug of his shoulders; "never has that man's equal been known in all the years i've been up against clever crooks. it was a false appeal for help, intended to employ most of my men, and give these desperate looters plenty of time to get away with their plunder. under the unfortunate circumstances what can i do to further your plans, sir? anything in my power you may command--i have but three of my force at the post, being short-handed just at present, as several are on leave of absence for special reasons." "if you could spare me sergeant lowden, sir, whom my comrade has recommended highly as one with a thorough knowledge of the whole country for fifty miles around, and allow me to carry the doctor back to frazer's to take charge of poor old jimmy, i could, i believe, make good progress; especially if you sent the balance of your detachment after us as an emergency force, in case we find the sledding a bit too rough." colonel ascot looked relieved, as though a heavy load had been taken from his chest. "only too gladly will i accede to that request," he told his guest. "i am expecting dr. hamilton at any moment now, when you can meet him, and ask him to ride back with you to the trading post. he is a gentleman, and a very gifted surgeon--in the year and more that he's been in this neighborhood i have known him to perform almost unbelievable operations with the most remarkable success. there is some mystery about the man, which is none of our business--i am simply telling you in order that you may not unintentially permit yourself--or perk, whose failings along the line of curiosity i know full well--to display any sign of butting in. in these lonely regions, my dear sir, just as in the gold fields, a man's past is his business only, and other people are content that it should remain a dead secret; but you can rest assured he is straight goods, and moreover a polished gentleman, as well as a wonderful physician." "i can readily understand what you mean, colonel," jack warmly assured him, "and once i have warned perk neither of us ever display the slightest curiosity about his hidden past--as you say, it concerns him alone; we'll just take him for what he is, and be glad to know him." they talked further, as the colonel glanced at his papers and laid them in a pigeonhole of his desk; and jack learned a number of important things connected with the man whom he planned to take back with him to the states, having the necessary documents to allow of this being done via the airship route. then the officer asked him to step outside, for he believed he had heard the voice of dr. hamilton, who it appeared, was coming once a day to treat a badly lacerated leg of one of the privates, who had been thrown from his horse amidst a _cache_ of unusually jagged rocks, with ill results. jack liked the doctor from the start, although he could plainly see that something like grief--hardly remorse--must have been eating at the other's heart for many a moon, his manner was so suppressed, so sad. of course the doctor hastened to assure him he would be only too glad to take the long gallop to the trading post, and do what was necessary for old jimmy, whom he knew very well, and esteemed highly. "i am not much of a horseman, i'm afraid," he told jack, whom he knew simply as a well-to-do young gentleman, with a great love for outdoors sports, and big game hunting chief of all; "but the colonel has an animal i've used before, and doubtless romeo will carry me safely to the post, since the trail is fairly easy; but the distance is more than he could negotiate at one try, i'm thinking." "that can be easily arranged," jack explained; "we might be able to get halfway to our destination by the time darkness sets in, when we could make camp, spend the night beside the trail, and get an early morning start. and thank you very much, doctor, for your kindness in going, i did all i could for a temporary dressing; but it was only the work of an amateur, and jimmy really needs further attention." "which i shall be only too pleased to give, since i have the utmost regard for the old factor," which remark satisfied jack that everything was coming along nicely. xxv an overnight bivouac immediately the station took on an air of great commotion. sergeant red lowden had been given secret instructions to accompany the two air voyagers, and was to go heavily armed, as for a battle. he was also told to place his services entirely at the disposal of the young fellow, as to whose real identity he had been "put wise" by perk, while jack and the commander had their little chat. the horses were brought out from the log stable, supplies gathered and packed, and everything done that was needful when a force was starting off for "business at the old stand." of course perk had met dr. hamilton, and been introduced under his fictitious cognomen of "smith." he seemed a bit awed in the presence of the other, and kept watching him out of the tail of his eye--indeed, from that time on perk showed signs of being deeply interested in the strange man, for he would steal a glance in his direction, shake his head as if "all balled up," to quote his own words as spoken later on; and then go into one of his rare silent spells as if cudgeling those slow moving wits of his. jack had of course taken occasion to tell perk what the colonel had passed along concerning the doctor; and being duly impressed with the need of caution had solemnly promised never to evince the slightest curiosity in connection with the unknown past history. "queer, how i seem to keep thinkin' i've met up with him somewhere or other," he managed at one time to mention to his chum, just before they got word from red lowden that everything was ready for the start; "but shucks! that same could hardly be possible, since he on'y bobbed up hereabouts sixteen moons back, red tells me; and i'd been out o' this country a few moons 'fore that. kinder guess i must be pokin' in the wrong prairie-dog hole, an' it's jest a case o' mistaken identity, as some calls it when you're follerin' the false trail. let it go at that, partner; an' here comes red to tell us we gotter to jump-off." jack had made all arrangements for his ship to be taken care of during his absence; whether it was for three days, a week, or even much longer the commandant assured him nothing should happen to endanger the amphibian; which would lie there tied up alongside the river bank, with some one keeping a jealous eye on the same day and night. so they shook hands with colonel ascot, who wished them all success in the undertaking they had planned out. "please god you may live to come back here later on, my friends," he said, with a warmth perk had never seen him exhibit before; "and that success will attend you in this undertaking. depend upon it the posse will follow after you as soon as it is practicable; and red there will show you how we leave a clue along the road as we go, for those coming in the rear to follow--that will be after you quit frazer's, and start in on the real tough part of the trip." which assurance afforded jack more or less satisfaction, for he somehow had an idea they might find the bunch of desperadoes a bit too tough to be successfully handled by such a small force; and be compelled to fall back until joined by the re-inforcements. they mounted, and were off at a gallop, sometimes times in single file, and again doubling up when the trail widened in places. red took the advance, since he was so thoroughly acquainted with every rod of the trail that led to the fur-trading post. then followed jack, with perk at his heels, and the doctor bringing up the rear. whenever they struck a section where the trail broadened out perk never lost an opportunity to ride alongside his chum; and of course always had a few of his interminable questions to ask; just as though to him jack represented an encyclopedia that could supply all his numerous wants, if only properly "tapped"--perk being from maine, must have many times made maple sugar in the bush; and tapping trees for the sap evidently had brought him to ply the same methods when in need of information. perk had of course taken his faithful hand machine gun, being under the impression that it would come in handy when the time for action arrived. so, too, had jack fastened his fine repeating sporting rifle to his saddle--it was just such a handsome weapon as he had always longed to own for hunting purposes, and hence he took advantage of his assumed personality to make the purchase--especially since generous uncle sam would stand back of the extravagance, since one could hardly expect to pose successfully in the guise of an ambitious big game hunter unless he possessed such a necessary winchester. after all the packages containing "grub" had been affixed to the saddles of the party, perk had come climbing out of the cabin of the ship carrying what appeared to be a mysterious black leather hand-grip--just what it contained he did not attempt to explain even to his old-time pal red. as jack however glimpsed the strange object he seemed to smile comprehendingly, as if he might commend his comrade for going prepared for great emergencies--of this matter more may be said later on, when events begin to thicken, and the air becomes saturated with exciting happenings. although making good time red was too old a campaigner to force things, especially at such an early stage of the journey. to be sure they stood to reach frazer's some hours after daylight at the earliest, and the raiders would have a long start of them; but as red had confided to jack, he was in possession of more recent knowledge covering the suspected secret lair of the looters; and besides, was he not the acknowledged peer of any indian or halfbreed in all the northwest country when it came to following a trail? jack was well satisfied with his chances for running the wily hawk to his hidden den; what came to pass after that had been accomplished must depend on how cleverly they could carry on, so as to catch the enemy napping, and pounce upon him unawares. while believing fully in his maxim of being prepared, jack was not the one to give himself useless worry, leaving all that for the time when he must bring his reserve powers into play. the afternoon fell away, with the sun dropping lower down the western sky. in less than another hour they would find twilight encompassing them, and must therefore pick out some likely camping spot, where fresh water would be handy, and plenty of desirable fuel nearby to keep their fire during the coming night. later on red began to keep his eye "peeled" for a site that possessed, in addition to rising ground, all these other requirements. he did not mean to let such a spot pass him by, even though the hour was still early, lest another could not be reached, and they must find themselves deprived of certain comforts--red, you see, was a bit like perk in that respect--he had great respect for his stomach, and would make considerable other sacrifices in order that a proper cooking fire could be utilized, and a sufficiency of food prepared to fill the expected vacuum. just a short time before the glowing ball of fire in the west sank behind the upward thrust of the mountain peaks, red gave a cry, and held up his hand as a signal that the afternoon gallop was at an end. a tempting little brooklet ran gurgling along its way alongside the trail, and a finer campsite it would have been hard to find. the timber was fairly thick, with a small open glade close by. the trees gave considerable protection for travelers without a tent, or other shelter; but then red and perk knew how to throw up a rude shack from material that was conveniently handy, in case rain threatened, which was not likely just then, these pioneers of the wide spaces agreed on this special occasion. dr. hamilton for one was glad the ride had come to an end; he did not pretend to be much of a horseman, and the constant contact with a hard saddle proved anything but pleasant or agreeable to him, though never a single word of complaint had escaped his lips. perk set about helping red gather a pile of wood, after quenching his thirst at the brook, the water being as cool as they could wish. they had been wise enough to fetch blankets for the crowd, and with a fire going all night long, no one could reasonably complain. jack and the doctor sat there chatting on subjects that seemed to engage them both, while watching with interest as the two others started getting supper. taken altogether it was quite a cheery picture, as jack could not help remarking; to find that his companion quite agreed with him; from which jack decided that after all the physician could not be naturally diffident to the charm of camping out, although admitting that he was hardly more than a novice along those lines. perk certainly acted as if vastly pleased with the opportunity to get up another open air meal--how he did detest those periods of partaking of what he sneeringly called "flying fare" such as became necessary so often while he and jack were on the wing, and putting the miles behind them when on business bent--if he had his way about things they would have landed at each and every day's end, and had their meals like civilized human beings instead of "sky hoboes." it was really a tempting supper that the pair of outdoor men managed to serve. they ranged along a convenient log, rolled into position by the culinary artists, always with an eye out for comfort; and here jack and dr. hamilton were given heaping pannikins of solid food, that tasted "pretty fine"; nor was the accompanying coffee anything to be scorned, for perk certainly knew just how to brew it to bring out all its hidden aroma, and tempt every one to come back for a second cup. they sat there before a blazing fire and talked of many things; yet studiously avoiding any and all reference to the one subject uppermost in the minds of at least three of the number--the chances of success they might meet in endeavoring to track the reckless lawbreaker, known as the hawk, to his lair, and either taking him prisoner, or, if forced to extreme measures, effectually winding up his audacious exploits by putting him under the sod. jack soon realized that his first estimation of dr. hamilton was absolutely correct; for the other entered into the conversation as though pleased to meet up with one who was so well up in matters of the day as jack proved to be. they were all more or less fatigued by the hard three hours' gallop along the twisting trail, over mountain slopes, and through valleys that lay between; so it was not long before first the doctor made up his blanket bed and crawled within; then jack a little later followed suit; and finally, after fixing the campfire so it would continue to burn for some hours, perk and red also "kicked off," as the former expressed it. after that silence deep and profound fell upon the scene, where nearby the horses securely hobbled cropped spears of grass such as they could reach; and in the end also settled down for a complete rest. xxvi the wolf pack jack, chancing to awaken several hours afterwards sat up to rearrange his blanket. the fire was burning fairly well, so that he could easily see objects within a certain range. a slight movement drew his attention toward the spot where dr. hamilton had rolled himself up in the blanket assigned to his use; and jack could see him sitting there, with his head bowed down as though, unable to sleep, he was indulging in sombre thoughts. somehow jack had been drawn toward the strange man, whom he felt confident must have some deep reason for coming to this outpost of civilization, and burying both himself and his rare talents under an assumed identity. "he's certainly got something gnawing at his heart, by the way he acts," jack told himself, as he snuggled down again within the folds of his covers. "and somehow i just can't seem to believe he's a bad man--his face, so sad, and yet sympathetic, belies that. still, the secret is his own, and none of my business." so he put it out of his mind, and was soon fast asleep once more. when next he awoke it must have been several hours later, as he could tell by glancing up at the star-studded heavens; for jack had studied the planetary system, and could tell how the night was passing fairly well by the time of the setting of the various celestial orbs. the fire was burning brightly, showing that either perk or red must have been keeping tabs on its care, having recently replenished the fuel supply. "pretty soft, i'd call it," chuckled jack, again dropping back to catch a "few more winks" of sleep before the coming of dawn; "but say, what's the use of having a chum who calls himself an old woods guide along, to look after you, if he doesn't give you all the service he's supposed to supply for his wages? we'll have many a good laugh over this delightful arrangement in other days and nights." three of the horses were lying down, the fourth trying to find a few more stray wisps of green stuff by reaching out to the extent of his tethering rope. all seemed well with the world, and jack judged it the part of wisdom to fight off dull cares until the time really arrived for action. then for the third time he opened his eyes and began to stretch his limbs, by that time feeling a bit cramped from his lying in a certain position so long. "must be getting daylight," he told himself, noting how he could see objects at some little distance beyond the smouldering campfire; but as it was not the proper caper for a supposed young millionaire sportsman to be the first on stirring in camp, jack concluded to just lie there and do a little calculating, having in mind the stirring drama they were likely to run into ere another day had come to an end. "huh! now, what in thunder does all that distant racket mean?" of course that was perk muttering to himself, and turning his head jack could see the other rising to a sitting position, with his head set on one side, as though he were straining his hearing. this caused jack to suddenly realize for the first time that it was not only the gurgling of the nearby running brook he had been hearing--somewhere within half a mile other sounds were rising, and even gradually drawing closer right along--yapping, for all the world like dogs chasing a rabbit, or a sly fox caught out with dawn coloring the sky. jack hastened to sit up. "yes, what can it be, do you think, perk?" he asked, quietly. "awake are you, ol' hoss?" the other went on to say though without turning his head. "sounds like wolves, or i'd say kiotes only i happen to know they ain't any sech animals 'way up here--leastways i never did run across sech all the time i rode 'round this section o' country." "a pack of timber wolves, you mean, buddy--the big, gray chaps that can pull down a deer as easy as a mountain lion would do the job?" "them's the kind like enough, jack," affirmed the other. "the chase is on then, it seems, perk; what d'ye reckon they're after?" "some sorter game they're meanin' to make a breakfast off'n--mebbe a cow moose, or else it might be a caribou, partner," perk went on to say, as if mildly interested. "huh! wouldn't mind havin' a juicy caribou steak myself for breakfast, on'y it'd be breakin' the game laws to shoot sech a critter out o' season. say, they must be headin' this way, jack, ol' pard!" "either that, or else there's a change of wind," agreed the other; "for the racket grows louder right along." perk reached out and laid his hand on the ever faithful machine-gun, which it seemed he had carefully placed alongside on settling down for the night. "i guess now i'll get up, an' toddle out by that openin' in the timber," jack heard him saying; "mebbe we might have the good luck to look-in on the gay scrap, if the beggars bring their quarry to bay close by here. anyhow it's plumb mornin', an' plenty to do." jack could not have told had he been asked why he should copy perk's example, possessing himself of the winchester repeater, and even following his comrade in the direction of the open glade, toward which the suggestive sounds appeared to be heading. there, too, was red lowden starting to "climb out" of his swathing blanket, apparently recognizing the fact that there might be something interesting on the carpet worth witnessing. all this movement must have aroused the doctor, for jack noticed a movement in his quarter, as though the exodus from the camp were about to be made unanimous. jack and perk dropped down on the edge of the opening. "that's in our favor," the latter was whispering--"the wind, what little there happens to be ablowin' is comin' right in our face, so the pesky beasts ain't agoin' to scent us right away. i kinder guess they's so crazy worked up over gitin' a breakfast they ain't so cunnin' as usual. wow! they're sure closin' in on the dick, that's flat--i c'n notice a change in the yelpin' that tells the story. steady now, ol' hoss, for here they come aswoopin'!" jack crouched low, with staring eyes--there was something that bordered on the thrilling about this dramatic panorama of the wilderness which a freak of good fortune was bringing under their observation--he even felt his heart beating as fast as a throbbing rivetting machine, such as he remembered once hearing at work on a skyscraper in the building in new york city--in fact, jack rather fancied this was as close an approach to the real "buck ague" as he had ever experienced, for while "some hunter" he did not claim to be a veteran in the chase. suddenly some large object broke out from the scrub on the other side of the open glade--it was a bull caribou, all right, and extremely winded, the chase having evidently been a long and thrilling one. gone was much of the spring to its gait, usually as swift as the wind--the pertinacity of its four-footed pursuers had completely worn the caribou out, and all that was left was for him to turn on the pack, and battle until they dragged him down by the weight of numbers, backed by ferocious hunger. there in the centre the gallant old fellow whirled around and stood at bay, just as jack had seen in a celebrated engraving. one sweep of his half-developed antlers and a daring wolf was flung ruthlessly aside, to come back limping, but as eager as ever. it was a spectacle jack would not have missed for anything; and yet all his sympathies were for the poor stag, so sorely beset by those ravenous foes. again and again did he strike out and scatter his enemies; but his condition this early in the season was not as hardened as would have been the case along toward late in the fall months, so that his blows failed to cripple those he sent flying right and left. perk was on one knee, and with his machine-gun lifted halfway to his shoulder, as though the inclination to mix in the scrimmage had begun to grip him too powerfully to be long resisted. the crisis came with lightning-like rapidity, and it turned out just about as jack had anticipated would be the case. one of the half-dozen wolves made a bold leap just when the caribou, having sent another flying, was caught off his guard. he landed on the stag's quarter, and fastened his teeth in his flank. that served to disconcert the doomed animal, so that a second of his persecutors was enabled to fasten on his neck, and weight him down. that hastened the inevitable end to the woods tragedy. there was no longer heard the yelps of the triumphant wolves--only a terrible snapping sound, and a mad scrambling, as the gallant caribou stag kept up the unequal fight, evidently determined to resist "to the last ditch." perk had reached the end of his rope; he could no longer resist the temptation to throw his glove into the arena, and take up the cause of the weaker one of the contenders. jack heard the sudden crash of the machine-gun close to his ear. one of the maddened wolves fell at the report, to get up no more. a second bit the dust almost immediately afterwards, for perk had only to swing his gun in a small section of a half-circle to spray the carnivora in succession. panic gripped those still remaining--possibly for the first time they whiffed the scent of human foes; so, too, they may have known what that crash of firearms, those spitting flashes of flame signified. waiting not upon the order of their going they abandoned all hopes of a well earned meal, and made off like so many streaks. perk ceased firing--he also gave a little whoop, as if triumph filled his veins with exaltation that must find some sort of vent. "hot ziggetty dig! jest see the cowardly critter lope out o' here, will you, partner?" was the burden of his shout, as the remainder of the lupine pack disappeared among the tree-trunks well beyond; "but what a danged shame the poor caribou's so bad hurt he jest can't move off--there, by the great horn spoon if he ain't laid down on the job; i kinder guess i hit in a little bit too late to help him any." as they approached the wretched victim of wolfish hunger and ferocity attempted to get on his legs again; but seemed too weak to do more than lift himself halfway, when he once more fell back. "better we put him out of his misery, perk," jack, suggested, knowing full well that the animal was doomed, no matter what they did; for if left to himself the wolf pack--what was left of it at any rate--was bound to return, and finish their slaughter. "you do it, brother," begged perk, "somehow i don't seem able to jest up an' knock him on the head. your rifle's a heap better for that job." "it will be a mercy, since he's done for, no matter how we look at it," the other went on to say; "so, game law or not, i've just got to do it." with the speedy crack of his thirty-thirty sporting rifle the caribou gave one expiring kick, and then lay there limp and lifeless. jack surveyed his victim, and shook his head as though he took no pleasure whatever in the act of mercy. "since necessity forced us into this game, perk, there's no reason why you shouldn't have your caribou steak for breakfast; though i've got an idea it may give your grinders some job, from toughness. go to it, brother; if you pronounce it eatable i may try a small portion myself, though i'm not building up any high hopes as to enjoying it." since it was daylight, and they were all aroused, they concluded there was no sense of "making two bites of a cherry." accordingly perk coaxed red to build up a good cooking-fire, while he proceeded to cut some slices from the intact flank of the fallen stag. at any rate it had an appetizing flavor while cooking, that caused red to look expectant. jack took a small portion on his pannikin, and started to masticate it in sections; but just the same he failed to clear off his plate, which would indicate that he hardly approved of that kind of venison. from the fact that perk did not see fit to select any more of the meat to carry along when they pulled out, one of three things must have affected him--either he did not anticipate having another chance to make use of a cooking fire in the near future; felt a bit worried as to what would happen if a game-warden, roving far afield, should happen along while he put in time at his culinary labors; or else even he had found the venison too tough for mastication--possibly a bit of all three reasons influenced him in abandoning the remainder of the carcass to those hungry brutes, undoubtedly still hovering in ambush not far away. then jack called out "boots and saddles," with the whole four mounting their waiting steeds, and galloping along the trail. xxvii on the dangerous trail the horses being fresh after the all-night bivouac, the little party made good time along the crooked trail. perk was enjoying himself to the limit, taking in all the old familiar sights--how well he remembered different happenings that were connected with this, or that special spot; indeed, he found it hard to believe some years had passed since he followed this path between frazer's trading-post of the great hudson's bay fur company, and the mounties' further north station. it was going on nine when they again came in sight of the long log building that housed the factor and his belongings--such as hawk and his bold crowd had left untouched during their recent raid. all seemed peaceful at the post, although the ashes marking the burned annex told how some unusual event must have recently taken place. they found old jimmy getting along as well as could be expected, but anxious for the coming of the doctor, in whom he had every confidence in the world. a superficial examination quickly put dr. hamilton in possession of sufficient knowledge upon which to base a verdict. "nothing very serious, mcgregor," he told the factor, in a cheery tone that did much to dissipate any fears the other may have entertained as to the outcome of his wounds. jack and perk too, were relieved, for both of them had reason to feel a burden was lifted from their hearts--perk because of his old friendship for the factor; and jack on account of his having given "first aid" to the victim of the lawless hawk's latest raid. turning to jack dr. hamilton surveyed him with kindling eyes. "if, as you said, young man," he told the flyer, "you are only an amateur at handling cases like this, i want to tell you everything has been carried out in a way that would not have shamed the best of surgeons. jimmy will owe a lot to your skillful work. and let me further say most earnestly, that if at some future date it ever occurs to you to change your profession, should you choose to follow that of surgery, i can easily predict a more than ordinary success awaits you--remember that, jack." "can you tie that?" burst out the grinning perk, who seemed more tickled at hearing these words of praise than was the blushing recipient himself. "i kinder guessed my best pal was topnotch 'long them lines when i watched him adoin' his stuff. so jack, in case you ever do get knocked out o' the cloud-chasin' game, plenty o' time left to climb up the ladder in the surgical ward." jack hurriedly left the room, although it would have been only natural for him to feel a little thrill at being thus praised by a professional man whom he had already begun to hold in high esteem. perk joined him outside, but was kept from doing much talking by the necessity of carrying out a number of needful errands. they did not expect to waste any unnecessary time hanging about the post--the trail was already cold, and it was essential that they get on the move as speedily as possible. jack well knew what difficult, and perhaps even sanguine work still remained to be accomplished, and as usual was eager to get it all over with. "we can't hang fire in this business," he was telling perk, who perhaps did not look at things in quite the same light, since his nature differed from that of his companion; "and until i see our man trussed up, to await our pleasure in hopping off for the border, i'll not have a peaceful moment. from now on this has to be a whirlwind campaign, and no mistake--get that, partner?" "huh! pleases me okay, ol' hoss," the other told him, nodding his head vigorously; "i'm in the game up to my neck, an' with me it sure is 'pike's peak--or bust!'" "we'll take a little time to look over our stuff," suggested jack, the always wise worker, who seldom left the slightest thing undone, and consequently, like other cautious sky pilots, seldom had a real accident overtake him. "make sure you've got plenty of cartridges for your gun, and than add another belt for good measure, because you never can tell what may happen, and it's best to be on the safe side--as a fire insurance agent once said on his advertising cards, it's 'better to _have_ insurance, and not _need_ it; than to _need_ insurance and not _have_ it.'" "yeah! i know it, jack, boy," admitted perk, "even if sometimes i do get caught nappin', an' have a peck o' trouble 'count o' my carelessness. i'm set to carry along every shell i fetched up here with me--this is the job they're meant for, an' why be a miser 'bout it?" "that's the ticket, partner," jack told him, apparently quite satisfied he had started his companion on the right road--perk sometimes had to be "shown," and then he would follow to the bitter end. red lowden had also been making sure nothing was forgotten, so far as he could tell. of course he was somewhat in the dark as to just what means jack meant to employ in order to bring about the success of the undertaking; but in the short time he had known the young secret service detective he had realized the capacity the other exhibited for handling just such intricate cases--if it were not so the astute head of the organization at washington would never have entrusted this difficult problem to his hands. of course, from this time forward it would be sergeant lowden who would take the lead, since he knew the country, and it was all a puzzle to jack--even perk would not be half as well acquainted with the ground as the one who for a dozen years had been going over the entire district for a radius of probably fifty miles in all directions. then, too, should any difficulty arise they could put their heads together, and find a solution to the problem, since many hands make light work, according to the old saying. while jack and perk were doing other things red had taken a look at the tracks left by the raiders. luckily no rain had fallen since they galloped away from the plucked post, and hence the imprints of their animals' hoofs could still be plainly located. besides this, red was depending considerably on certain secret information lately drifting in to colonel ascot, to help him out--as yet he had not said anything to jack and perk concerning this matter, but anticipated taking them both into his confidence before long, as it was essential they should understand just what resources he was banking upon in order to run the wolves to their secret den, the whereabouts of which had so long been unknown. and so, about an hour after arriving at frazer's, the trio again rode forth, to bring about the finishing touches of their campaign. even perk seemed sobered by the desperate character of the duties now devolving on the little party. outnumbered at least two to one, possibly with even greater odds against them, they would surely need all the boldness and strategy with which they were endowed, in order to bring about a successful finish to the invasion of the enemy's stronghold. sometimes they were compelled to go single-file on account of the narrow trail, alongside which great masses of mighty rocks were piled up; but in other places it was possible to ride three abreast; and these were the occasions when jack and red consulted, clearing up any foggy spots, so that they could work in unison when the time came for action. not a single incident occurred to take their attention from the fact that they were carrying their lives in their hands. now and then the guide would pull up in order that he might make use of the binoculars (which jack had taken pains to bring along) some suspicious clump of rocks such as would afford a most effective spot for an ambush needed closer observation; and red was too cautious a ranger to rush into a trap when it could be avoided. as they progressed jack noticed how their guide gradually slowed down; from which circumstance he judged they must be nearing the hidden retreat of the plunderers. it gave him increased confidence in the sagacity of the mounty sergeant, whose disposition corresponded more or less with his own. coming to a delightfully cold spring that bubbled up close to the trail, red called a halt. "a short rest will breathe the hosses," red was saying, after he had taken a good look at the trail beyond the wayside spring; "and by the same token i think it's high time i told you both about a little trick of luck that came my way just a week or so back; 'specially since it's got so much to do with the carrying out of this surround, and hoped-for haul." xxviii dodging the lookout perk looked eagerly at his old pal when sergeant red made that interesting disclosure. the three of them were sitting close to the spring at the time, engaged in passing a collapsible metal cup from hand to hand, and quenching their thirst from the clear water that came forth in apparently inexhaustible quantities. "huh! i kinder guessed now, red, ol' hoss, that you had a trump cyard up your sleeve all this while--reckon i ain't forgot a trick you used to play on us boys long ago, springin' a nice little surprise just when the game looked the bunk, an' we reckoned we was up a stump. hit it up then, an' tell us what sorter good luck it was you run smack up against, that's got somethin' to do with this here racket o' ourn." "i was riding slowly back to the station, after taking our mail to the nearest settlement, where it could go on its way by a carrier, when i chanced to hear what sounded like a groan. of course i first of all suspected it might be some sort of slick trap to get me off my mount; but after riding on a bit i dismounted and fastening my hoss, crept back. "turned out to be no fizzle after all, for i found a miserable looking man lying on the ground, half starved, badly wounded in an arm, and looking like he'd been in the river that was close by. "i reckoned he might be one of the crowd that worked with the hawk--had an idea i'd seen him before in bad company; but he was a tough looking sight, and i just felt sorry for the bloke. so i fed him, and looked after his hurts, what with a heap of bruises, and a bullet through the fleshy part of his left arm. "then i got him on my mount, and carried him all the way to the station. the colonel took charge, and had him put to bed, with doc. hamilton looking after his troubles. he got better right away, and on the third day said he must be going. then he confessed he had been a member of that hawk gang and that his name was gene hotchkiss, though we both reckoned it was one he'd tacked on when he came up here to keep out of jail. "he went on to tell us that he'd been fool enough to defy the hawk when full of hard stuff; and how the other had flashed a gun to shoot him through the shoulder; then knocked him down, kicked him in a passion; and finally, when he was mighty near senseless, ordered two of his men to pick him up and throw him over a cliff into the river. "how he managed to keep from being drowned when so weak and sore he couldn't explain--all he remembered was managing to pull himself out of the water when an eddy drew him in close to a shelving rock. later on he tried to make his way along in the direction of frazer's post, meaning to get out of this country, for his life would not be worth a pinch of salt if ever the hawk learned he hadn't been put out of the way. "he claimed to have a brother down in winnipeg, and swore black and blue he was going back to him, so as to try and redeem himself. colonel astor encouraged him, feeling that what he spoke was the truth. well, before he pulled out, going in company with a trapper chancing along right then, the chap was so grateful for all we'd done for him he up and told us a few things about the hawk, such as we'd been crazy to learn for seven coons' ages. "he described the location of the secret haunt of the gang, so we couldn't miss finding it when ready to pounce down on them. more than that he drew a sort of diagram, or chart, showing us how there was a back-door way of gettin' in, case they barricaded the main entrance--so far as he knew not a single guy of all the pack knew about this same rear door except himself; and he'd only found it out by sheer accident, keeping quiet, since he even then had a sneaking notion he'd have to pull out on the sly, if ever it came to a show-down between himself and the hawk." "that sounds like something well worth while," jack remarked, after red had apparently reached the end of his little yarn; "always provided what he told you was the truth, and not a fairy story invented to hoodwink you until he got out of touch, and could make his getaway." "i believe it was backed by solid truth," red stoutly affirmed; "and the colonel was of the same opinion. we were only waiting until several of the boys returned to the station after having their vacations, when we figured on pulling the roost, and closing out the whole bunch. then you hit our place, and he made up his mind to let you have your day, backing you up when the posse arrived after their wild goose chase, sent on a false information that the gang planned to raid the little settlement at frog's neck down the river fifty miles or so." acting on jack's request, red explained (by means of the rude chart made by the so-called gene hotchkiss) just where the retreat was located; and also what course they would have to pursue if necessity compelled them to attempt to break in through the back door. "if that stacks up against us," jack finally decided, "we can go over this thing again and get our bearings--it may not be necessary if we have a decent share of luck. and now, boys, let's move along, and start something." "when we get to a certain point," further advised the mounty guide, "it's going to be necessary for us to leave the trail, hide our hosses, and take to the rocks." "you reckon then they'll have a lookout posted to command the approach, and get wind of any threatening danger?" jack asked. "that hotchkiss guy told us they never left anything to chance," red explained; "he said that day and night a vidette is kept posted on a lookout point, where, unseen himself he can discover if even a fox comes along the only approach to the cave. he even said they had dynamite planted, with a wire running up to the den, so the whole works could be knocked into flinders if so be the mounties came along. we've got to find that wire, and disconnect it first thing we do." "je-ru-sa-lem crickets, i should say so!" perk chattered; "i ain't so set on doin' my flyin' in pieces that i'll cotton to any dynamite cache." then, as they were once more compelled to go single file on account of the rocks narrowing the trail, the consultation came to an end, and they continued to move ahead in utter silence save when a hoof chanced to strike the solid rock and made a subdued sound. each rider, however, tried to keep this from happening whenever possible, by skillful guidance with the bridle. perk kept watching the mountain that reared up its lofty peak thousands of feet above. it might be he was wondering what would happen should the guide through some mistake overlap the range of safety, and their coming be noted by the ever vigilant vidette posted in some eagle-like eyrie far up the slope. would their first warning of this fact be when a frightful explosion rent the atmosphere, and the massive rocks went flying in every direction, carrying themselves and their unlucky mounts along in sections? it was not a very cheerful subject to entertain, and perk might be pardoned for feeling a little cold chill creep up and down his spinal column, when for instance he suddenly caught a rumbling sound, like an earthquake in its first throes. it however turned out to be simply a land-slide, such as frequently took place, as perk himself very well knew, with great rocks, and a shower of loosened earth slipping down the slope with increasing momentum. "gosh a mity! that one near got my goat!" perk told himself, with a nervous little laugh; and as he brought up the rear just then neither of his mates saw his brief spasm of alarm, for which he was thankful. suddenly red threw up his arm. they had for some little time been walking their horses, and this warning signal brought them all to a complete standstill. jack shoved up alongside the leader, and they exchanged looks. "here's where we got to leave our mounts, and go on afoot," was what red explained, speaking in a low tone that added to the thrill of the occasion, at least so far as perk was concerned. "see this red-looking rock that cuts out halfway across the trail--that hotchkiss critter warned me not to pass it by--if we rode fifty feet further we'd come in line with the sentry up yonder." "i guess now an inch is as good as a mile," perk observed, grinning as though he had uttered some "wise crack" that did his discretion credit. looking around they soon found an opening in the wall on their right, through which the horses could be led. red was particular to take the animals quite some distance away, so that in case one of them took a notion to neigh, as horses are apt to do at unexpected times, the sound might not be heard by the man on the lookout post, or by any one chancing to be passing along the trail. so far so good; and yet the extra hazardous part of the undertaking was but beginning to loom up ahead. xxix the hawk at bay red led the way, of course. jack knew he was searching for the wire that ran from the planted explosive up to the spot where the vidette was stationed, his intention being to sever this strand so as to make the hidden dynamite futile for doing any damage. shortly afterwards the guide uttered a low exclamation as of satisfaction, following this up by kneeling down, and with a pair of pocket pliers cutting a wire that lay in plain sight on the rock. perk made a queer little noise, as though something in the way of a load had been taken from his chest. jack, too, felt relieved; and besides, their early success seemed to presage a good ending to the adventure. again they went on, climbing by devious ways, but always making progress up toward the little plateau which had been described to red by the former member of the bandit circle as the lookout's station. drawing gradually closer and closer in the end they could make out the figure of a man, seated arab fashion, with his legs drawn up under him, and watching the spot where the trail stood out so plainly to one far above. apparently he had as yet discovered no suspicious movement, and was unaware of what virtually hovered over his own devoted head. again did red assume the initiative, and jack was perfectly willing that this should be his part. whispering a few words in jack's ear placed close to his lips, the mounty sergeant moved away as noiselessly as a crawling serpent might have done, vanishing from their anxious eyes as though the rocks had opened to engulf him. the two sky pilgrims crouched there and waited, keyed up to a high pitch of anticipation and excitement. jack could hear perk drawing in each breath with a slight rasping sound; so, too, did the other move restlessly as the minutes passed until a quarter of an hour had slipped by. then jack noticed a faint movement just back of the lounging sentry, and something like four feet above his head. of course it was red, who had managed to attain this commanding spot without making any sound calculated to put the bandit lookout on the alert. perk, too, had glimpsed a face peering forth, and he as well as jack suspended breathing as they saw the sturdy mounty launch his body into space. following came a scuffling noise, as the two forms writhed and twisted there on the outcropping of rock, with a sheer drop of full a hundred feet, if one or both were so unfortunate as to squirm over the edge. at least there had not been the faintest shout given, proving how perfect all of red's movements had been calculated and carried out. no doubt the fingers of his right hand had clutched the sentry's throat in a flash, cutting off his wind, and reducing him to a condition of helplessness. two minutes afterwards and there was red grinning as he beckoned for his two mates to climb up to where he awaited them. upon reaching his side they found he had tied the prisoner's arms together behind his back; and perk making a quick examination, nodded as if vastly pleased over such a thorough job. borrowing a red bandana handkerchief--a fresh and new one perk had laid in for this especial occasion--red speedily made an effective gag which he secured over the senseless man's mouth, so that no matter how much he strove to cry out the best he could do would be to make a low moaning sound, hardly more than a grunt. after this had been accomplished red unceremoniously dragged him into an inviting fissure near by, where he could be left to himself. he had been coming into his senses at the time, and must have glimpsed the hated and feared uniform of the mounties, which would be apt to give him a nightmare, knowing as he did what measure in the way of penalties was due for his reckoning. again the daring trio set out to reach the hidden den. red led them by devious ways, always with the one thought of "playing safe" held up before him. inside of five minutes he pointed to where a network of vines covered the face of a small cliff. behind that curtain red knew the secret entrance of the freebooters' rendezvous was to be found. red's hunch turned out to be all to the good, as was proven when they investigated, and found an opening that seemed to lead into the solid rock. before taking chances by pushing into the black depths jack and red consulted once more in whispers. perk, hovering near by, suddenly glimpsed a moving object that turned out to be a hostile eavesdropper--undoubtedly one of the outlaws had been in the act of stepping out of the underground retreat when he made the thrilling discovery that the dreaded mounties were at the door. knowing from perk's actions that his presence was discovered, in a near panic the man attempted to get away. perk, however, hoping to prevent jack's plans for surprising the gang from being upset, made a furious rush toward the disappearing party. he hurled himself upon the man, and succeeded in throwing him down with such violence that the other was knocked senseless; but unfortunately before this happened the outlaw had let out a warning shriek, that must have echoed through the passages of the cavern. several shots rang out, proving how quickly the gang could take the alarm. loud voices, too, followed, and one in particular struck jack as most dominant and commanding; so that it hardly needed the quick explanation from red to tell jack he was listening to the hawk in person. perk, realizing that the battle was now on, started to do his share of the action; and the way he handled that machine-gun was a caution. its rap-rap-rap following each burst with others in rapid succession, made it appear as though a dozen of the surprise party must be thronging at the entrance, ready for a concerted rush. perhaps, too, those sheltered inside the dark interior of the wonderful cavern could catch occasional glimpses of the hated and feared uniform of the mounted police; for red was actively moving back and forth, with just this idea influencing him, to make them believe the entire force connected with the station had come upon the ground, bent upon making a complete sweep-up of the bunch at bay while they were about it. the fight went on quite merrily for some little time, with shots echoing through the corridors of the underground retreat. whether their hot fusilade was doing any harm the trio on the outside could not discover, for no longer were shouts being exchanged--the besieged bandits kept firing sullenly, nor did they seem to be lacking in an abundance of ammunition. realizing that they were getting nowhere by these ineffective tactics jack again sought suggestions from his second in command. when red vigorously advised that they try to find the secret rear entrance to the cavern, it struck jack as a sensible plan. knowing that there was little risk of the inmates making any serious attempt to rush out at this early stage of the battle, especially when unaware of the number of their foes, jack concluded to accept the risks and take his whole inadequate force with him in making an attack from the rear. it was indeed a lucky thing they had such a good guide at their disposal as red proved to be; for he had no particular trouble in leading them along a narrow ledge, and through a branch of the main canyon, until they presently reached a dark crevice in the shape of a rock fault, exactly as his informant had advised would be the case. this being the case they entered the split in the wall, and aided by occasional flashes from the hand electric torch jack carried, managed in the end to reach the main cavern. here torches fastened to the walls in the regulation fashion, allowed them to see the flitting figures of the alarmed bandits moving to and fro, as though engaged in changing their stores to some more secure location. it appearing that only by a sudden rush could they hope to strike consternation into the hearts of the already panicky bunch, jack gave the word, and with loud shouts and much firing of guns the three boldly rushed the enemy. in return came a volley of answering shots; but apparently this unexpected attack from the rear unnerved the outlaws, for breaking they rushed into an inner chamber, which had evidently been prepared for a last stand in case of just such an emergency as had now arrived. when the three came on the spot it was to find only a single form stretched on the rocky floor, and with a stout oaken door checking their further advance. xxx back over the border--conclusion taking stock of the situation jack found that things did not look so satisfactory as he could have wished. the outlaws, with but two missing from their number, so far as jack could tell, had now retreated back of what seemed in the nature of a fort, which might defy all the efforts of himself and two companions to break in. the thing that worried jack most of all was the fact that perk had been wounded in the last exchange of fierce firing. just how serious this might prove he could not say; but his chum's left arm seemed to hang helplessly at his side; although otherwise the war veteran displayed his usual scorn of a little blood-letting on his part. "looks kinder like we might be up a tree, partner," perk hoarsely told him as they came together while dodging the hot firing. "mebbe now you'd better gimme permission to heave a couple o' them little tear gas marbles into that ere hole in the wall! see there's a place right over that same heavy door they left open for ventilation like; i could make a little rush up and push the pills through it in three shakes o' a lamb's tail. say the word, buddy, an' let's end all this guess work." jack himself realized it would be their best policy; he had before then witnessed the effective nature of those same small bombs under conditions not so very unlike those now confronting them; and remembered how mutinies in jails and penitentiaries down in the states were being effectually quelled by the use of similar methods. "all right, perk, have your way; the quicker it's done the better, for i must have a look at that arm of yours, old man." perk seemed well pleased, and lost not a second in "getting a move on," as he himself would have termed it. making a speedy dash he managed to reach the vicinity of the fastened door, drew back his right arm, and then shot it forward. a second time was the movement carried out, after which he staggered along the rocky wall, and fell at jack's feet as if exhausted by his supreme effort. jack's first impulse was to bend down in order to see what he could do to help his wounded pal; but perk refused to be counted out. "go on and play the game to a finish, buddy," snapped the other, managing to attain a sitting posture, and pawing for his gun, lying close by; "i'm all to the good--don't bother 'bout me now--get your men first thing--i'll hold out okay--go to it, partner. gosh! jest hear 'em whoopin' things up, will you?" the inmates of the barricaded fort were indeed creating a frightful row, cursing, and shouting, and begging some one to open the door so as to give them fresh air, saying their eyesight was gone, and they were stone blind. red had taken up his position close to one side of the door, as if waiting to nail the first fellow who came staggering forth, groping in utter darkness, and with his eyeballs smarting frightfully; so there was nothing for jack to do but back the efficient mounty up. one of the prisoners and victims of the tear gas bombs managed to remove the bar holding the massive door; and as they came staggering forth, one after another, those awaiting seized hold, frisked them for weapons, and with incredible swiftness snapped a pair of handy steel bracelets upon their several wrists. it was soon all over but the shouting--there proved to be six of the outlaws, including the hawk himself. the latter, when undergoing the agonies attending the effects of the gas, displayed no symptoms of his accustomed bravado, although he did not whimper, and plead, like some of the other victims. jack hastened to take a look at perk's wound, and found that while he had lost considerable blood, and seemed weak, there was not anything very serious about it--a rest of several days would set him on his feet again without any doubt. anxious to get back to the station with their prisoners they lost no time in looking over the secret hiding place of the now demoralized gang which could wait for another day; but loading the prisoners on the horses, made a speedy start. three hours later what was their delight to suddenly meet a body of mounties heading toward the scene of the recent battle; and at their head rode none other than colonel ascot himself. as dr. hamilton was believed to be at the trading post, and jack wished to have him look after perk, they headed in that direction first of all, each of the troopers having one of the dejected prisoners in front of him astride his mount. their coming created quite a sensation at the post, and the old factor quite naturally rejoiced at the prospect of presently recovering all the stock so recently carried off by the bold swoop of the outlaw gang. since the leading spirit of the organization, known to them only as the hawk, was booked to be returned to leavenworth; and the minor offenders would get their liberty cut off for years to come, it looked as though peace was likely to reign throughout that section of the northwest territory for keeps. after perk's arm had been cared for it was determined to keep on in the direction of the mounties' headquarters, carrying all their prisoners along. they reached their objective about noon on the following day, not being able to make fast progress on account of the double burdens carried by the horses. then came the biggest surprise of all, so far as jack and perk were concerned. the former and dr. hamilton were having a little chat, and perk on his part sat in the sun amusing himself by staring at something he held in his one good hand. jack, as if by accident, steered his companion over that way, so they came up behind perk, quite unaware of their presence. he was, as might be said to be his habit, talking with himself. "hang the luck!" they heard him mutter as if greatly annoyed; "there she slipped me again, jest like the greased pig they try to ketch in that silly game--i was goin' to say that name as slick as you please, but now i lost connections again. adrian--adrian _what_?" "where did you get that picture?" demanded a voice close to his ear, as a hand shot out and snatched it from his grasp. "why--what--here, what business you got takin' my property?" gasped perk as turning his head awkwardly he looked in astonishment at dr. hamilton, strangely excited; while jack stood by, nodding his head, and grinning, as if some suspicion he had entertained was now confirmed. "because he is _my_ boy--i am doctor adrian bahrman!" when the surgeon said this as though determined to no longer hide his identity behind a false name, perk gave a tremendous start, and turning to jack cried out: "hot diggetty dig! _did_ you hear that, partner--he said it, the name i been tryin' to get out for ever so long! knowed it was somethin' that begun with a b, didn't i tell you? now i c'n get some peace, anyway. an' me always wonderin' where i'd seen a face like you'rn, doc. shake hands on that." of course jack had to tell the story, and when the thrilled doctor learned how perk had evidently saved the lives of his dear ones he again wrung the unbandaged hand of that individual with might and main, tears streaming down his cheeks. they had decided to spend several more days at the station, so perk would be in condition for the return trip; and there were frequent occasions for the whole story to be told on both sides. dr. bahrman told them just why he had been influenced to hide himself away up in the wilderness--he had been betrayed by a cousin of his wife's, who had once been a suitor for her hand in marriage. so cleverly had a plot been woven around him that through circumstantial evidence it seemed as though he were guilty of a forgery, and when out on bail he had been urged to flee, especially by his wife. when he learned how adrian's mother was now searching for him, with good news of some sort, he decided to go back to the states with jack, and take his chances of being freed from the odium of being a fugitive from justice. but just the same a turn of fortune's wheel decided that this should not be--that having suffered for all these months from the outrageous flings of malice and hatred, things had suddenly changed for the better. on the day before the one selected for making a start in the airship, carrying their moody captive with them, there was a sudden burst of shouting; and as jack hurried out of the log building he was thrilled to catch the strangely familiar throbbing sound of a plane in the heavens. they stood there, every one at the station, watching the oncoming of a sky-racer; and even before it dropped down perk had pronounced it a new-model sikorsky amphibian, wasp powered, he being more or less of an authority on such matters. but as it turned out that was only a small part of the surprise awaiting them; for no sooner had the boat settled in the river close to shore than two men landed, helping a woman and a child along. jack saw dr. bahrman start to run toward them as fast as his legs could carry him; and just as he was suspecting would prove to be the case, when the woman hurriedly snatched off the goggles and helmet she had been wearing, he recognized her as the mother of little adrian, quickly to be wrapped in the arms of her eager husband; nor did the dancing boy have to wait long ere he too was held in a close embrace. the story mrs. bahrman told was like a leaf taken from some volume of fairy tales. the wicked cousin had been overtaken by the penalty for his plotting, having been in a serious road accident when his car was smashed by a train at a crossing; but before he died he had the decency to make a sworn statement before a justice of the peace, entirely exonerating dr. bahrman from the forgery charge that had been skillfully woven around him, so that nothing now stood in the way of the reunited family returning to their former home, and taking up their lives just where this wretched happening separated them. mrs. bahrman, remembering that she had a brother in the navy who was an efficient aviator and had made quite a name for himself, sought his assistance the very day after she and her boy had been saved from the burning tenement in salt lake city, he being stationed in los angeles at the time. this brother being in high favor with the authorities readily secured permission to use a new government ship just placed in his charge; and carrying an assistant pilot, along with the two bahrmans, started over the line for canada, the devoted wife having in some way learned that her absent mate might be found in the vicinity of the advanced northern frontier post of the mounties. so after all, when jack and perk started on the following day, it was with the knowledge that soon afterwards the sikorsky would be following them, carrying a happy party homeward bound. they had no trouble with their prisoner, who seemed to be of a reckless disposition, and snapping his fingers at fate--he only said he had had a run for his money, and could afford to let matters take their course--that a man could die but once, and after all they did not treat prisoners badly at fort leavenworth. having duly delivered their man to the federal district attorney in spokane who would see that he was returned to the penitentiary, jack and perk again waited further orders from washington that would send them forth upon yet another flight through the clouds, following the path of duty. the red room, by william le queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ the red room, by william le queux. chapter one. three inquisitive men. the fifteenth of january, , fell on a tuesday. i have good cause to remember it. in this narrative of startling fact there is little that concerns myself. it is mostly of the doings of others--strange doings though they were, and stranger still, perhaps, that i should be their chronicler. on that tuesday morning, just after eleven o'clock, i was busy taking down the engine of one of the cars at my garage in the high road, chiswick. dick, one of my men, had had trouble with the "forty-eight" while bringing home two young gentlemen from oxford on the previous night, and i was trying to locate the fault. suddenly, as i looked up, i saw standing at my side a man who lived a few doors from me in bath road, bedford park--a man who was a mystery. he greeted me pleasantly, standing with his hands thrust into the pockets of his shabby black overcoat, while, returning his salutation, i straightened myself, wondering what had brought him there, and whether he wished to hire a car. i had known him by sight for a couple of years or more as he passed up and down before my house, but we had not often spoken. truth to tell, his movements seemed rather erratic and his shabbiness very marked, yet at times he appeared quite spruce and smart, and his absences were so frequent that my wife and i had grown to regard him with considerable suspicion. in the suburbs of london one doesn't mix easily with one's neighbours. "can i speak to you privately, mr. holford?" he asked, with a slight hesitancy and a glance at my chauffeur dick, who at that moment had his hand in the gear-box. "certainly," i said. "will you step into my office?" and i led the way through the long garage to my private room beyond, through the glass windows of which i could see all the work in progress. my visitor was, i judged, about fifty, or perhaps fifty-five, an anxious, slight, intellectual-looking man, with hair and moustache turning grey, a pair of keen, dark, troubled eyes, a protruding, well-shaven chin, an aquiline face, sniffing dimly the uncertain future, a complexion somewhat sallow, yet a sinewy, athletic person whose vocation i had on many occasions tried to guess in vain. sometimes he dressed quite smartly in clothes undoubtedly cut by a west-end tailor. at others, he slouched along shabby and apparently hard up, as he now was. my wife--for i had married three years before, just after i had entered the motor business--had from the first put him down as an adventurer, and a person to be avoided. her woman's instinct generally led to correct conclusions. indeed, one night, when out with her sister, she had seen him in evening dress, seated in a box at a theatre with a lady, in pale blue and diamonds, and another man; and on a second occasion she had witnessed him at charing cross station registering luggage to the continent. he had with him two smartly-dressed men, who were seeing him off. i myself had more than once seen him arrive in a hansom with well-worn suit-cases and travelling kit, and on several occasions, when driving a car through the london traffic, i had caught sight of him in silk hat and frock-coat walking in the west end with his smart friends. women are generally inquisitive regarding their neighbours, and my wife was no exception. she had discovered that this mr. kershaw kirk was a bachelor, whose home was kept by an unmarried sister, miss judith, about nine years his junior. they employed a charwoman every friday, but, as miss kirk's brother was absent so frequently, they preferred not to employ a general servant. now, i was rather suspicious of this fact. the man kirk was a mystery, and servants are always prone to pry into their master's affairs. my visitor was silent for a few moments after he had taken the chair i had offered. his dark eyes were fixed upon me with a strange, intense look, until, with some hesitation, he at last said: "i believe, mr. holford, you are agent for a new german tyre--the eckhardt it is called, is it not?" "i am," i replied. "i am sole agent in london." "well, i want to examine one," he exclaimed, "but in strict confidence. other persons will probably come to you and beg to see this particular tyre, but i wish you to regard the fact that i have seen it as entirely between ourselves. will you do so? a very serious issue depends upon your discretion--how serious you will one day realise." i looked at him in surprise. his request for secrecy struck me as distinctly peculiar. "well, of course, if you wish," i replied, "i'll regard the fact that you have seen the eckhardt non-skid as confidential. is it in connection with any new invention?" i asked suspiciously. "not at all," he laughed. "i have nothing whatever to do with motor-cars or the motor trade. i merely wish to satisfy myself by looking at one of the new tyres." so i went upstairs, and brought down one of the german covers for his inspection. he took it in his hands, and, very careful that dick should not observe him from the outside, closely examined the triangular steel studs with which the cover was fitted. from his pocket he took a piece of paper, and, folding it, measured the width of the tyre, making a break in the edge of the folded paper. then he felt the edges of the studs, and began to ask questions regarding the life of the new tyre. "the inventor, who lives at cologne, was over here three months ago, and claimed for it that it lasted out three tyres of any of the present well-known makes," i replied. "but, as a matter of fact, i must admit that i've never tried it myself." "you've sold some, of course?" "yes, several sets--and i believe they've given satisfaction." "you are, i take it, the only agent in this country?" "no; farmer and payne, in glasgow, have the agency for scotland," i replied, greatly wondering why this tyre should attract him if he had no personal interest in cars. a second time he examined the cover, again very closely; then, placing it aside, he thanked me, apologising for taking up my time. "mind," he said, "not a word to a soul that you have shown me this." "i have promised, mr. kirk, to say nothing," i said; "but your injunctions as to secrecy have, i must confess, somewhat aroused my curiosity." "probably so." and a good-humoured smile overspread his thin, rather melancholy face. "but our acquaintance is not very intimate, is it? i've often been on the point of asking you to run in and have a smoke with me. i'm a trifle lonely, and would be so delighted if you'd spend an hour with me." my natural curiosity to discover more about this man, who was such a mystery, prompted me to express a mutual desire for a chat. so it was arranged that i should look in and see him after dinner that same evening. "i travel a good deal," he explained, in a careless way, "therefore i never like to make engagements far ahead. i always believe in living for to-day and allowing to-morrow to take care of itself." he spoke with refinement, and, though presenting such a shabby exterior, was undoubtedly a gentleman and well bred. he looked around the garage, and i showed him the dozen or so cars which i let out on hire, as well as the number of private cars whose owners place them in my care. but by the manner he examined them i saw that, whatever ignorance he might feign regarding motors, he was no novice. he seemed to know almost as much about ignition, timing, and lubrication as i did. and when i remarked upon it his face only relaxed into a smile that was sphinx-like. "well, mr. holford," he exclaimed at last, "i'm hindering you, no doubt, so i'll clear out. remember, i'll expect you for a chat at nine this evening." and, buttoning his frayed overcoat, he left, and walked in the direction of turnham green. half an hour later i was called on the telephone to the other side of london, where i had a customer buying a new car, and it was not before six o'clock that i was back again at the garage, where i found my manager, pelham, who during the morning had been out trying a car on the ripley road. "funny thing happened this afternoon, sir," he said as i entered. "two men, both mysterious persons, have come in, one after the other, to see an eckhardt non-skid. they had no idea of buying one--merely wanted to see it. the second man wanted me to roll one along in the mud outside to show him the track it makes! fancy me doing that with a new tyre!" his announcement puzzled me. these were the persons whose visit had been predicted by kirk! what could it mean? "didn't they give any reason why they wanted to see the cover?" "said they'd heard about it--that was all," my manager replied. "both men wanted to take all sorts of measurements, but i told them they'd better buy a set outright. i fancy it's some inventor's game. somebody has got a scheme to improve on it, i expect, and bring it out as a british patent." but i kept my counsel and said nothing. i was already convinced that behind these three visits there was something unusual, and i determined to endeavour to extract the truth from kershaw kirk. little did i dream the reason why the eckhardt tyre was being so closely scrutinised by strangers. little, likewise, did i dream of the curious events which were to follow, or the amazing whirl of adventure into which i was to be so suddenly launched. but i will set it all down just as it happened, and try to present you with the complete and straightforward narrative--a narrative which will show you what strange things can happen to a peaceful, steady-going, hard-working citizen in this greater london of ours to-day. chapter two. some strange facts. mr. kirk opened his front door himself that evening, and conducted me to a cosy study at the end of the hall, where a fire burned brightly. in a black velvet lounge coat, a fancy vest, and bright, bead-embroidered slippers, he beamed a warm welcome upon me, and drew up a big saddle-bag arm-chair. from what i had seen of the house, i was surprised at its taste and elegance. there was certainly no sign of poverty there. the study was furnished with solid comfort, and the volumes that lined it were the books of a studious man. the cigar he offered me was an exquisite one, though he himself preferred his well-coloured meerschaum, which he filled from an old german tobacco bowl. in one corner of the room stood his pet, a large grey parrot in a cage, which he now and then addressed in the course of his conversation. one of his eccentricities was to think audibly and address his thoughts to his queer companion, whose name was joseph. we must have been chatting for fully half an hour when i mentioned to him that two other persons had called that afternoon to inspect the new eckhardt tyre, whereupon he suddenly started forward in his chair and exclaimed: "one of the men wore a dark beard and was slightly bald, while the other was a fair man, much younger--eh?" i explained that my manager, pelham, had seen them, whereupon he breathed more freely; yet my announcement seemed to have created within him undue consternation and alarm. he pressed the tobacco very carefully and deliberately into his pipe, but made no further comment. at last, raising his head and looking straight across at me, he said: "i may as well explain, mr. holford, that i had an ulterior motive in asking you in this evening. the fact is, i am sorely in want of a friend--one in whom i can trust. i suppose," he added--"i suppose i ought to tell you something concerning myself. well, i'm a man with many acquaintances, but very few friends. my profession? well, that is surely my own affair. it often takes me far afield, and sometimes causes me to keep queer company. the fact is," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "i'm a dealer in secrets." "a dealer in secrets!" i echoed. "i don't quite follow you." "the secrets sometimes confided to my keeping would, if i betrayed them, create a worldwide sensation," he said slowly, looking straight into the fire. "at times i am in possession of ugly facts concerning my fellow-men which would eclipse any of the scandals of the past twenty years. and at this moment, as i tell you, i am in sad need of a friend." he was quick to notice the expression upon my face. "i want no financial aid," he hastened to assure me. "on the contrary, if at any time i can be of any little assistance to you, i generally have a few pounds lying idle." i thanked him, my curiosity growing greater. he was seated in a big, high-backed grandfather's chair, his head leaning against the padded side, his gaze, a trifle melancholy, fixed upon the dancing flames. at his back was an open roll-top writing-table, very tidy, with a clean blotting-pad, and everything in its place, spick and span. "to be quite frank with you, mr. holford," he said, "i may as well tell you that an incident has occurred which has rendered it necessary that i should come to you, a comparative stranger, for friendship and assistance. ah," he added, with a sharp and curious glance at me, "i see that you don't trust me! you should never judge a man by his clothes." "i never do," i protested. "but you haven't explained the reason why you are so anxious for my friendship!" for a few minutes he was silent. then, of a sudden, he turned to the big grey parrot and asked in a shrill, squeaky tone, almost a croak: "shall i tell him, joseph? shall i tell him?" "good night!" answered the loquacious bird. "good night! good night! josef!" "well," my host said slowly, knocking the ashes from his pipe into the fender, "it is a matter, a serious and very curious affair, of which as yet the public have no knowledge. some things are not allowed to leak out to the papers. this is one of them. i wonder," he went on thoughtfully, after a pause--"i wonder if i told you whether you would keep the secret?" "certainly," i said, full of curiosity, for i could not see kirk's motive in asking my assistance, and my natural caution now asserted itself. "by the way," he echoed suddenly, "do you know any other language besides english?" "i know french fairly well," i replied, "and a smattering of italian." "nothing else? german, for instance?" i replied in the negative. he rose, and relit his pipe with a spill. then he chatted for some minutes with joseph, all the time, it seemed, reflecting upon what he should say to me. at last, reseating himself in his old-fashioned chair, he again looked me straight in the face and said: "you have given me your promise of silence, mr. holford. i accept it from one whom i have watched closely for a long time, and whom i know to be a gentleman. now i am going to tell you something which will probably alarm you. a crime, a very serious crime, has been committed in london during the past forty-eight hours, and i, kershaw kirk, am implicated in it--or, rather, suspected of it!" i sat staring at the man before me, too surprised to reply. he had always been an enigma, and the mystery about him was increasing. "tell me more," i urged at last, looking into the face of the suspected criminal. "who is the victim?" "at present i am keeping the affair a strict secret," he said. "there are reasons, very potent reasons, why the public should not know of the tragedy. nowadays publicity is the curse of life. at last the home office have recognised this. i told you that i am a holder of secrets. well, besides myself, not more than three persons are aware of the astounding affair." "and you are suspected as the assassin?" i remarked. "unfortunately, i shall be," was his reply, and i saw that his countenance fell; "i foresee it. that is why i require your aid--the aid of a man who is honest, and who is a gentleman as well." and he broke off again to chatter to joseph, who was keeping up a continual screeching. "i am anxious to hear details of the affair," i said eagerly. "i wish i could tell you the details," he answered, with a bitter smile; "but i am not aware of them myself. the affair is a mystery--one of which even the police must be kept in ignorance." "haven't the police been informed?" "no," was his prompt reply. "in certain cases information to the police means publicity. in this case, as i've already told you, there must be no publicity. therefore, though a crime has been committed, it is being kept from the police, who, not knowing the facts, must only bungle the inquiries, and whose limited scope of inquiry would only result in failure." "you interest me, mr. kirk. relate the known facts to me," i said. "why, pray, will you be suspected of being a murderer?" "well," he said, with a long-drawn sigh, "because--well, because i had everything to gain by the death of the murdered person. he had filched from me a very valuable secret." "then the murdered person was not your friend?" "no; my enemy," he replied. "you, mr. holford, as an englishman, will no doubt think it impossible that i may be arrested, tried in secret, and sent to penal servitude for life for a crime of which i am innocent. you believe that every man in this isle of unrest of ours must have a fair trial by judge and jury. yet i tell you that there are exceptions. there are certain men in england who would never be brought before a criminal court. i am one of them." at first i was inclined to regard kirk as a madman, yet on looking into his face i saw an expression of open earnestness, and somehow i felt that he was telling me the curious truth. "i certainly thought there were no exceptions," i said. "i am one of the few," he replied. "they dare not place me in a criminal dock." "why?" "for certain reasons"--and he smiled mysteriously--"reasons which you, if you become my friend, may some day discover. i live here in this by-road of a london suburb, but this is not my home. i have another--a long way from here." and, turning from me suddenly, he addressed questions to joseph, asking him his opinion of me. "where's your coat?" screeched the bird. "where's your coat? good night!" the whole scene was strangely weird and incongruous. kirk at one moment speaking of a remarkable tragedy and at the next chaffing his pet. at last, however, i fixed my host to the point, and asked him straight out what had occurred. "well," he said, placing down his pipe and resting his protruding chin upon his right hand, as he gazed across at me, "just follow me for a few moments, and i'll describe, as best i can, all that is known of the affair--or, rather, all i know of it. do you happen to know sussex place, regent's park?" i replied in the affirmative. it was, as you probably know yourself, a highly respectable crescent of large houses overlooking the park. entrance was gained from the road in the rear, for the houses faced the park, perhaps one of the pleasantest rows of residences in london. the occupiers were mostly city merchants or well-to-do ladies. "well," he said, "in one of those houses there has lived for the past five years or so professor ernest greer, the well-known chemist, who, among other appointments, holds the waynflete professorship of chemistry at oxford university. though his age is only about fifty-five, his whole career has been devoted to scientific research, with the result that he has amassed a considerable fortune from royalties gained from the new process he patented four years ago for the hardening of steel. i dare say you've often seen his name mentioned in the papers. he was a most popular man, and, with his daughter ethelwynn, often went into society. in addition to the regent's park house, they had a pretty seaside cottage down at broadstairs." "i've seen the professor's name very often in the papers," i remarked, "in connection, i think, with the british association. i read, not long ago, an account of one of his interesting lectures at the london institution." "then you realise his high standing," said kirk, interpolating an aside to joseph. "well, mrs. greer is dead, and the household at regent's park consists of the professor, ethelwynn, her maid morgan, two housemaids, a female cook, and the butler antonio merli, an elderly italian, who has been in the professor's service for nearly twenty years. on the evening before last--that was sunday--at twenty minutes to five o'clock, the professor and his daughter were together in the large upstairs drawing-room, which overlooks the park, where antonio served tea. five minutes later antonio re-entered and handed his master a telegram. the professor, having read it, placed it upon the fire, and remarked that he would be compelled to go to edinburgh that night by the : from king's cross, but would return in three days' time, for the girl had accepted an invitation for the grand ball at sutherland house to-morrow." "the professor sent no reply to the message?" i asked, much interested. "no; but half an hour later his actions struck his daughter as somewhat peculiar, for, having suddenly glanced up at the clock, he rose, crossed to one of the three long windows--the end one--and drew up the blind. then, after a pause, he lowered it again. then twice he pulled it up and down quickly, and returned again to where he was sitting. at least, that is his daughter's story." "he signalled to somebody--using the morse code, i should say." "exactly my theory, mr. holford. i note that you follow me," exclaimed the friendless man. "you possess a keen sense of deduction, i see!" "apparently you don't believe this statement of miss ethelwynn's?" i said. he sniffed quickly, but did not at first reply. "the fact that he drew the blinds up and down at a preconcerted hour shows that he communicated with somebody who was awaiting the signal outside in regent's park," he remarked at last. "well, what then?" "at eight he dined, as usual, with his daughter, and after dinner the faithful antonio packed his kit-bag and suit-case, putting in only sufficient clothes for a stay of three days. at her father's order ethelwynn telephoned to the station-master's office at king's cross and secured a sleeping berth in the : express for edinburgh. at a quarter to eleven o'clock he kissed his daughter good night, and went away in a cab to the station, promising faithfully to be back to take her to the ball." "and he disappeared--i suppose?" "no, he didn't," my companion exclaimed, as, turning to the bird, he said, "mr. holford jumps to conclusions just a little too quickly, doesn't he, joseph?" and he slowly relit his pipe, which had again gone out. "first," he went on, "let me tell you of the arrangement of the professor's house. the whole of the ground and first floors are devoted to reception rooms. the remaining two floors and attics are bedrooms. now, on the first floor, reached by passing through what is known as the red room, a small boudoir at the back, and then through a short passage, one comes to a large and spacious studio, an addition made by a former owner, a well-known artist. the only entrance is through the red room. the professor rented the house on account of this studio, and had it fitted up as a laboratory. here, secure from intrusion, he frequently carried on his experiments, making those remarkable discoveries which have rendered him world-famous. the laboratory is shut off from the boudoir by this short passage, there being two doors, one in the boudoir itself and one at the entrance to the professor's workshop. to both these doors are patent locks, of which the professor keeps the keys, carrying them upon his watch-chain. no one else has a key, while the door from the conservatory over the porch is walled up. this is in order that no prying person shall enter in his absence and discover what experiments are in progress--a very natural precaution." "then they were secret experiments he was making?" i remarked. "yes. and now for the mysterious sequence of facts. they are as follows: next morning, when the servants opened the house, one of the maids found, lying upon the hall table, a note addressed to miss greer. when ethelwynn opened it, she found it to be from her father, telling her with regret that he must be absent abroad for several months, but that she was not to feel uncomfortable, and giving her certain directions, as well as how to obtain money during his enforced absence." "well?" joseph, the parrot, set up a loud screeching, trying to attract his master's attention. "two hours later antonio discovered upon the stairs leading up to the drawing-room a curious little gold and enamel charm in the form of a child's old-fashioned wooden doll--a beautifully-made little thing," he went on; "and half an hour later a maid, while cleaning the boudoir outside the locked door giving entrance to the laboratory, was surprised to find a small spot of blood upon the white goat-skin mat. this seems to have aroused antonio's apprehensions. a telegram to the professor at the north british hotel in edinburgh, sent by his daughter, brought, about three o'clock in the afternoon, a reply stating that he was quite well, and it was not until seven o'clock last evening that ethelwynn communicated with me, her father having suggested this in the note she had received. i called upon her at once, and was shown the note, the little golden doll, and the ugly stain upon the mat. by then my curiosity became aroused. i went out to a telephone at a neighbouring public-house, and, unknown to anybody, got on to the reception clerk at the north british hotel in edinburgh. in answer to my inquiry, the young lady said that during the day a telegram had arrived addressed to professor greer, and it had been placed upon the board where telegrams were exhibited. somebody had claimed it, but no one of the name was staying in the hotel." "you have now said that the professor was your friend," i remarked. "i understood you to say that he was an enemy." "i'll explain that later," said my companion impatiently, drawing hard at his pipe. "let me continue to describe the situation. well, on hearing this from edinburgh, i drove to king's cross, and, somewhat to my surprise, found that professor greer had left london by the train he had intended. the sleeping-car attendant who had travelled with him up north was just back, and he minutely described his passenger, referring to the fact that he refused to have an early cup of tea, because tea had been forbidden by his doctor." "a perplexing situation," i said. "how did you account for the bloodstain? had any of the servants met with an accident?" "no, none. neither dog, nor cat, nor any other pet was kept, therefore the stain upon the mat was unaccountable. it was that fact which caused me, greatly against miss ethelwynn's consent, to seek a locksmith and take down the two locked doors of the laboratory." and he paused, gazing once more straight into the flames, with a curious expression in those deep-set brown eyes. "and what did you find?" i eagerly inquired. "i discovered the truth," he said in a hard, changed tone. "the doors gave us a good deal of trouble. at the end of the laboratory, huddled in a corner, was the body of the professor. he had been stabbed to the heart, while his face presented a horrible sight, the features having been burned almost beyond recognition by some terribly corrosive fluid-- a crime which in every phase showed itself to be due to some fiendish spirit of revenge." "but that is most extraordinary!" i gasped, staring at the speaker. "the sleeping-car conductor took him to edinburgh! besides, how could the two doors be locked behind the assassin? were the keys still upon the victim?" "they are still upon the dead man's watch-chain," he said. "but, mark you, there is still a further feature of mystery in the affair. after her father's departure for the station, his daughter put on a dressing-gown and, sending morgan to bed, seated herself in her arm-chair before the fire in the red room, or boudoir, and took a novel. she read until past four o'clock, being in the habit of reading at night, and then, not being sleepy, sat writing letters until a drowsiness fell upon her. she did not then awake until a maid entered at seven to draw up the blinds." "then she was actually at the only entrance to the laboratory all the night!" "within a yard and a half of it," said kershaw kirk. "but the affair presents many strange features," he went on. "the worst feature of it all, mr. holford, is that a motive--a very strong motive--is known to certain persons why i myself should desire to enter that laboratory. therefore i must be suspected of the crime, and--well, i admit at once to you i shall be unable to prove an alibi!" i was silent for a moment. "unable to prove an alibi!" i echoed. "but the police have as yet no knowledge of the affair," i remarked. "no; i have, however, reported it in another quarter. it's a most serious matter, for i have suspicion that certain articles have been abstracted from the laboratory." "and that means--what?" "it means, my dear sir, very much more than you ever dream. this is at once the strangest and the most serious crime that has been committed in england for half a century. you are a man of action and of honour, mr. holford. will you become my friend, and assist me in trying to unravel it?" he asked quickly, bending forward to me in his earnestness. "most certainly i will," i replied, fascinated by the amazing story he had just related, quite regardless of the fact that he was the suspected assassin. i wonder whether if i had known into what a vortex of dread, suspicion, and double-dealing that decision of mine would have led me i would have so lightly consented to render my help? i think not. "well," he said, glancing at his watch, "the place has not been touched. if you consent to help me, it would be best that you saw it and formed your own independent theory. would you care to come with me now? you could run along and make some excuse to mrs. holford." the remarkable mystery, surrounding as it did one of the best-known scientists in the land, had already gripped my senses. therefore i did as he suggested, and about an hour later alighted from one of my own cars at the portico of that house of tragedy. a white-faced, grave-eyed man in black, the man antonio, opened the door in response to our ring, but on recognising my companion he gripped him quickly by the arm, gasping: "ah, signore, i had just telephoned to you! i had no idea you were returning here to-night. madonna santa, signore, it's terrible-- terrible! something else has happened. the young lady--she's--" "what do you mean? what has happened now?" asked kirk quickly. "tell me; she's--what?" but the old italian could not speak, so overcome and scared was he. he only pulled my companion forward into the dining-room on the left, and with his thin, bony finger pointed within. and as i entered the big room my eyes fell upon a sight that staggered me. like the old servant, i, too, stood aghast. truly kershaw kirk had spoken the truth when he had said that the mystery was no ordinary one. at that moment the problem seemed to me to be beyond solution. it already ranked in my mind as one of those mysteries to which the key is never discovered. who _did_ kill professor greer? chapter three. the house of mystery. what i saw in the house of professor greer on the night of that fifteenth of january formed indeed a strange and startling spectacle. ah, i am haunted by it even now! that sallow-faced man who had conducted me there was himself a mystery, and upon his own confession was suspected of a foul crime. besides, it was being kept rigorously from the police, which, to say the least, was a proceeding most unusual. what could it all mean? who was this kershaw kirk, this "dealer in secrets," as he called himself, who was immune from public trial, even though not immune from arrest and imprisonment? the whole intricate problem launched upon me during those past few hours held me in fascination as nothing had ever held me before. i could see that the man antonio held mr. kirk in great fear or great regard, for he was urbanity itself. but what we saw within the fine, solidly-furnished dining-room, with its carved buffet filled with antique shining silver, was so unexpected that even my companion gave vent to an exclamation of amazement. upon the dark carpet near the empty grate, her head pillowed upon a yellow silken cushion, lay a very pretty, fair-haired girl of about twenty-two. her hat was off, otherwise she was in walking dress, with a short fur jacket and a fine blue fox boa, which, loosened, showed the delicacy of her white throat. her face contour was bloodless; but all one side of her face was swollen, disfigured, and white as marble. "great heavens!" cried kirk, as he fell on his knees beside her and grasped her hands. "why, look! she's been disfigured, just as her father has been!" and he bent until his ear was against her heart. "get me that little mirror from the wall--over there, mr. holford. quick!" he urged. i sprang to do his bidding, and he placed against her mouth the little carved bracket wherein the square of looking-glass was set. when he withdrew it, it was unclouded. "she may not be dead?" i exclaimed. "shall i go for a doctor?" "no," kirk snarled; "we want no doctors poking their noses about here. this is a matter which concerns only myself, mr. holford!" and he bent to the prostrate girl to make a more minute investigation in a manner which showed me that he understood the various symptoms of death. "as you know, signore," antonio said, "miss ethelwynn left last night to stay at her aunt's, lady mellor's, in upper brook street, and i have not seen her since, until ten minutes ago i chanced to enter here, when, to my amazement, i found her lying just as you see her, except that i put the pillow beneath her head before telephoning for you. i didn't know whom to call." "you've told no one else of this?" kirk asked quickly. "only my brother, signore. he's staying with me. the girls have all left, and morgan, miss ethelwynn's maid, is at lady mellor's." "your brother!" repeated kirk reflectively. "yes, signore. he's here." and a respectably-dressed man a trifle younger than antonio, who had been standing out in the hall, entered and bowed. "pietro keeps a tobacconist's in the euston road," he explained. "i asked him here, as i don't care to stay in this place alone just now." kirk regarded the new-comer keenly, but made no remark. his attention was upon the unfortunate girl, who as far as we could gather, had returned in secret, entered quietly with her latch-key, and removed her hat, placing it upon the couch, sticking its pins through it, before she had been struck down by some unseen hand. there was no perceptible wound, and kirk could not determine whether she was still alive, yet he refused to summon medical aid. i confess to being somewhat annoyed at his obstinacy, and surprised at the secrecy with which he treated the whole of the remarkable circumstances. that very fact tended to strengthen the suspicion that he himself knew more about the crime than he had admitted. surely the police should be informed! he was very carefully examining the girl's clothing, seeking to discover a wound; but, as far as we could see, there was none, yet the pallor of the countenance was unmistakably that of death, while the hard, white disfigurement of the face was weird and horrible. the eye was closed, distorted, and screwed up by pain, and both mouth and ear seemed shrivelled out of shape. "who's responsible for this, i wonder?" growled kirk to himself. "why did she wish to return here in secret--to the house wherein she knew her father was lying dead? there was some strong motive--just as there is a motive for her death as well as her father's." then, looking up to me, he added, "you know, mr. holford, this poor young lady was her father's assistant and confidante. she was in the habit of helping him in his experiments, and making notes at his dictation of certain results." i knelt at the other side of the inert, prostrate form, and took the ungloved hands in mine. the stiffening fingers were cold as ice. "it's brutal--blackguardly!" cried kirk in a frenzy of anger. "whoever has thus sacrificed the girl's beauty deserves a dog's death. the motive in both cases must be vengeance. but for what?" antonio and his brother were active in getting brandy, sal volatile, ammonia, hot water, and other restoratives; but, though kirk worked unceasingly for half an hour in a manner which showed him to be no novice, all was to no purpose. there was no sign of life whatever. indeed, the colour of the disfigured portion of the fair countenance seemed to be slowly changing from marble-white to purple. kirk watched it, held his breath, and, staying his hand, shook his head. "why don't you call a doctor?" i again urged. "something may be done, after all. she may not be dead!" "i can do all that a doctor can do," was his calm, rather dignified reply, and i saw by the dark shadow upon his brow that he was annoyed at my suggestion. so i straightened myself again and watched. at last my eccentric companion came to the conclusion that no more could be done for the unfortunate girl, and we all four lifted her from the carpet on to the large leather sofa set near the window. then kirk led the way up the broad, thickly-carpeted staircase to the floor above. entering an open door leading from the square landing, he touched an electric switch, revealing a small elegantly-furnished room, a boudoir, upholstered in dark red silk. the walls were enamelled dead white, relieved by a beading of gold, and set in the panels were two fine paintings of the modern italian school. the red room was a veritable nest of luxury, with low easy chairs, a cosy corner near the fire, and a small reading table, whereon stood a selection of the latest novels from the library. in the cosy corner i noticed that the cushions were crushed, just as they had been left by the unfortunate girl as she had been aroused from her sleep by the entrance of the maid at early morning. one side of the room was occupied by a big bay window of stained glass, that probably faced a blank wall, while about four feet to the right of the cosy corner was a closed white-enamelled door--the door which gave entrance to the passage leading to the laboratory. the carpet was a pale grey, with a wreath of small roses running round the border, and before the door lay the white goatskin mat. my companion pointed to it, and i saw there the tell-tale stain of blood. the fire had been left just as it had died out on the morning of the tragedy. "you see," kirk said, advancing to the closed door which led to the laboratory, "there is here a patent lock--an expensive make, which has but one key. this door i found still locked!" opening it, we passed into a short passage about twelve feet long, closed by a similar door. this also he reopened, and i found myself in a large long apartment, very lofty, and well lit by a long high window along the side towards the street and at the end, while a skylight occupied part of the roof. upon rows of shelves were many bottles of chemicals, retorts, and delicate experimental apparatus, while on the right was a small furnace. there were also three zinc-covered tables with the miscellaneous accumulation of objects which the owner of the place had been using. i saw a blocked-up door on the right, which my companion explained let into the conservatory over the portico. "look!" whispered my friend in a low voice. "this way." and he switched on the lights at the further end of the great high apartment. i stepped forward at his side, until i distinguished, huddled up in the further corner, a human figure in dark grey trousers and black frock-coat. it seemed as though he had been propped in the corner, and his grey head had fallen sideways before death. i went further forward, holding my breath. the victim was apparently nearly sixty, with hair and moustache turning white, rather stoutly built, and broad-shouldered. his position was distorted and unnatural, as though he had twisted himself in the final agonies of death. the thin waxen hands were clenched tightly, and the linen collar was burst from the neck, while the professor's dark blue fancy vest bore a stain where the assassin's knife had struck him unerringly in the heart. of his features i, a stranger, could distinguish but little, so swollen, livid, and scarred were they that i was instantly horrified by their sight. the disfigurement had been so terrible that there remained hardly any semblance to a human face. "well," exclaimed kirk at last, "you have seen it! now what is your opinion?" we were standing alone in the great laboratory, for antonio and his brother had remained downstairs at my companion's suggestion. i looked round that great silent workshop of one of the most distinguished chemists of the age, and then i gazed upon the mortal remains of the man upon whom so many honours had been showered. warped, drawn, crouching, with one arm uplifted almost as though to ward off a blow, the body remained a weird and ghastly object. "has it been moved?" i inquired when i recovered speech. "no; it is just as we found it--just as the unknown assassin left it," he said. "the disfigurement, as far as i can judge, has been caused by some chemical agency--some acid or other substance placed upon the face, with fiendish cruelty, immediately before death." i bent closer to the lifeless face in order to examine it, and afterwards agreed with him. it was undoubtedly a murder prompted by a fierce and bitter vengeance. "the work of a madman, it may be," i suggested. but kershaw kirk shook his head, saying: "not of a madman, but of a very clever murderer who has left not a trace of his identity." "do you think that the professor was struck down at the spot where he now is?" i asked, for my friend seemed to be something of an expert in the habits of the criminal classes. "i think not. yet, as you see, the place is in no way disordered. there is no sign whatever of a struggle." i looked around, and as far as i could discern everything was as it should be. upon the nearest table in the centre was a very delicate glass apparatus in which some experiments had recently been made, for certain yellowish liquids were still within. had this table been violently jarred, the thin glass tubes would have been disarranged and broken, a fact which showed conclusively that the fatal blow had been struck with great suddenness and in silence. it had not occurred to kirk to examine the dead man's pockets before, and now, kneeling at his side, he was in the act of doing so. the various objects he took out, first examined, and afterwards handed them to me. there were several letters, none of any great importance, some chemical memoranda scribbled in pencil upon a piece of blank paper, a gold presentation watch and chain, fifteen pounds odd in money, and a few minor trifles, none of which threw any light upon the mysterious tragedy. my companion made another careful examination of the body. then, rising to his feet, he walked slowly around the laboratory, in further search, it seemed to me, of anything that the assassin might have left behind. but by his countenance i saw that this eccentric man who dealt in secrets, as he had admitted to me, was much puzzled and perplexed. the enigma was complete. so complicated and extraordinary were the whole circumstances that any attempt to unravel them only led one at once into an absolute _cul-de-sac_. to whom had the dead man signalled in the morse code by raising and lowering the blind? someone, friend or enemy, had been waiting outside near clarence gate in regent's park in the expectation of a message. he received it from the professor's own hands, those hands which before the dawn were cramped in the stiffness of death. chapter four. a silent message. for a full hour we remained there in the presence of the dead. before that huddled figure i stood a dozen times trying to form some feasible theory as to what had actually occurred within that room. the problem, however, was quite inexplicable. who had killed professor greer? there, upon the end of the unfortunate man's watch-chain, were the two keys which he always carried, keys which held the secrets of his experiments away from the prying eyes of persons who were undesirable. many of his discoveries had been worth to him thousands of pounds, and to public companies which exploited and worked them hundreds of thousands of pounds more. there, in that very room in which i stood, had the greer process of hardening steel been perfected, a process now used in hardening the armour-plates of our newest dreadnoughts. yet the master brain which had thought out those various combinations, and by years of patience had perfected the result, was now before me, inactive and dead. i shuddered at sight of that disfigured face, hideous in its limp inertness and horrible to the gaze. but kershaw kirk, his eyes narrower and his face more aquiline, continued his minute investigation of every object in the room. i watched him with increasing interest, noticing the negative result of all his labours. "i shall return again to-morrow when it is light," at last he said; "artificial light is of little use to me in this matter. perhaps you'll come with me again--eh?" "i'll try," i said, though, to be candid, i was not very keen upon a second visit to the presence of the disfigured body of the professor. i could not see why kirk was so anxious to avoid the police and to keep the affair out of the papers. "the body must be buried before long," i remarked. "how will you obtain a medical certificate and get it buried by an undertaker?" "mr. holford," he said, turning to me with an expression of slight annoyance upon his face, "i beg of you not to anticipate difficulty. it is the worst attitude a man can take up--especially in trying to solve a problem such as this. the future kindly leave entirely with me." at that moment i was fingering a small test-tube containing some thick grey-coloured liquid, and as i turned i accidentally dropped it upon the tiles with which the professor had had the place paved. in an instant there was a bright flash, almost like a magnesium light, so brilliant that for a second we were both blinded. "i wonder what that was?" he remarked, startled by the result. "one must be careful in handling what the dead man has left behind." "evidently," i said; "we cannot tell what these various experimental apparatus and tubes contain. therefore we should handle them delicately." and i bent to the table to examine another tube containing some bright red crystals held over an extinguished spirit-lamp by a brass holder, an action which my companion, i noticed, watched with a curious expression. was it suspicion of myself? "well, my dear friend," he exclaimed suddenly as he stood beside the table, "the problem is, as you see, rendered the more difficult of solution by the inexplicable fate which has overtaken the professor's daughter. here is a man against whom, as far as we know, nobody in the world had a grudge, who receives a telegram which he is careful to destroy, makes a preconcerted signal at his drawing-room window, and goes upon a journey to edinburgh. we know that he went, for the conductor recollects asking if he would take an early cup of tea. again, he received his daughter's telegram and replied to it. yet at the same time he was in edinburgh he was in this very room behind two locked doors of which he alone had the key, the victim of a brutally murderous attack! these doors were locked, and to enter here both he and the assassin must have passed through the boudoir within a yard or so of his daughter." "is there no other means of access except through the boudoir?" i asked. "have the windows been examined?" "yes; all the windows were screwed down on the inside. to-morrow, in the light, you shall satisfy yourself. i must come here to search for any finger-prints," was his hasty reply. "when i caused these doors to be opened, i was careful not to allow the locksmith to see that any tragedy had occurred. the man was paid, and went away in ignorance. yet when miss ethelwynn realised the truth she was as one demented. at first she refused to leave the place, but i persuaded her, and she went with her maid to her aunt's. i impressed upon her the value of silence, and she gave me her word that she would say nothing of what had occurred." "what about her maid morgan?" "she is ignorant of the truth," he said, with a grim smile. "well, this evening, it appears, the dead man's daughter returns in secret, enters with her latch-key the house where her father is lying, removes her hat carefully, and then--" "yes," i said. "and then? what do you believe occurred?" he was silent, his deep-set eyes downcast in thought. "well, i--i hardly know what to think," he declared. "it almost seems as though she shared the same fate as her father. that horrible disfiguration is most remarkable." "her entry here in secret and the strange fate that has overtaken her increases the mystery tenfold!" i declared. "why didn't she call antonio?" "perhaps that was her intention, but she was prevented," suggested my friend. and i saw that his glance was fixed upon me curiously, as though he were deliberately gauging my character and intelligence. "but to me it appears as though her intention might have been to reach the laboratory unobserved," i said. "she may, indeed, have been up here for aught we know to the contrary." "i hardly think so. she was far too horrified at sight of the body of her father, to whom she was so devoted. the scene when she saw him dead was very painful." "but might she not have been induced to return by morbid curiosity?" i suggested. "you've already told me that she was beside herself with grief." "well," he replied, with a sigh and a final glance across to where the dark object was huddled in the opposite corner, "no purpose, i think, can be served by remaining here longer to-night. we must return in the morning. i only brought you here in order that you might fully understand the exact problem now before us. come along." "but i don't see, mr. kirk, how it is possible for me to help you. i'm quite a novice in this kind of thing," i said. "you are not a detective. if you were, i should not seek your aid," he snapped, as he led the way to the door and switched off the lights. "i know you think it rather strange that i have not called a doctor and the police, and had a post-mortem, and allowed the newspaper reporters to `work up' a big sensation; but, as i've already told you, our success depends upon absolute secrecy. the affair is a startling one to you, no doubt; but if you were aware of what the tragedy really means you would be dumbfounded. why, the newspapers could make a world-wide sensation of it if only they got at the true facts; but they never will, i assure you--never." "then even i may not know the true facts?" i asked, as i stood with him again in the boudoir. "as far as the tragedy is concerned, you already know them. they are just as i have told you. but there are other facts--facts concerning myself and also the professor--which i am not permitted to divulge. they must," he added, "remain a secret." "well--if you are not perfectly frank with me, mr. kirk," i protested, "i cannot see how i can regard you as a sincere friend. this is a serious and complicated problem, in which you require my assistance in an endeavour to seek a solution. how can i form any conclusions or help you if you deliberately hold back from me some of the circumstances?" "i have held back none," was his hasty response--"at least, none which have any bearing whatever upon the tragedy. it is of myself and my own connection with greer that i am speaking. i was the first person called, before there was even a suspicion of anything wrong. the fact is, the dead man trusted me implicitly." "and, according to your showing, certain enemies of yours suspected the truth--that your friendship for the professor was only feigned." my companion looked me straight in the face with his narrow-set eyes, and replied: "my dear mr. holford, what my enemies say was, i admit, perfectly correct. i have sought to conceal nothing. greer believed that i was his friend, but i hated him. i had good cause to do so!" the man's crafty eyes again met mine, and i saw in them an expression which i had never noticed before. was it possible that he was the unknown assassin, and was only misleading me by clever and cunning devices? i recollected that he had told me that the professor had stolen from him some valuable secret. well, if he did not fear the crime of retaliation being brought home to him, why did he not go openly and lay the facts before the police? his evasive replies and thin excuses appeared to be utterly ridiculous. in my foolish ignorance i still believed kershaw kirk to be an ordinary individual, much like myself. the remarkable truth had not then been revealed to me--as it was later. we descended to the dining-room, where antonio and his brother pietro were still watching beside the couch whereon lay the poor girl who had met with such a strange and inexplicable fate. kirk again knelt beside her, and for a long time searched for any wound she might bear. but he found none. "remember, antonio, no person must enter this house under any pretext whatever," my companion ordered. "you are responsible." "no one shall know anything, signore," replied the man. "morgan and the maids are all in ignorance--for you, signore, kept it so cleverly from them." "a woman never can keep a secret," kirk answered sharply, "and if we are to fathom the mystery of your master's death not a word must leak out. you know what i have told you." "i recollect, signore," the man replied. and, using the italian oath, he said, "i have promised you, upon the tomb of my sainted mother." "then close this room, and with your brother keep a watchful vigil until to-morrow." and we both went out, and were soon running in the car back towards bedford park. arrived at his house, he insisted that i should enter for a "night-cap," it being then just past three o'clock. therefore, reluctantly, i accompanied him within. in his study a tantalus-stand and glasses were upon the table. he had thrown off his overcoat, and was about to pour me out some whisky, when the telephone bell suddenly rang. he put down the glass, and, walking to the instrument, answered the summons. "hulloa? yes?" he said. then, as he listened intently, his face blanched. he spoke some quick words in german, which, unfortunately, i could not follow. they seemed like instructions. again he listened, but suddenly whatever he heard so appalled him that the receiver dropped from his thin, nerveless fingers, and with a low, hoarse cry he staggered across to his big grandfather chair, near which i was standing, and sank into it, rigid, staring, open-mouthed. if ever guilt were written upon a man's face, it assuredly was written upon that of kershaw kirk at that moment. chapter five. certain suspicions strengthened. to mabel, my wife, i said nothing. in the circumstances, i deemed silence golden. kirk's attitude at the telephone had filled me with suspicion. during the hours i spent in bed before the dawn i lay thinking. the problem was utterly inexplicable, the more so now that the dead man's daughter was also dead. i was convinced, as i lay there in the darkness, that there was something very suspicious in the fact that kirk, who seemed to rule the household, would not allow the police to have any knowledge of what had occurred. indeed, my own position was somewhat unenviable, for, being aware that a murder had been committed, was i not legally bound to give information? was i not liable to prosecution if i failed to do so? the mystery surrounding kershaw kirk had increased rather than diminished in that final quarter of an hour i had spent with him as he had sat staring straight into the fire, uttering scarce a word. what had been told him over the telephone had caused an entire change in his manner. previously he had been dictatorial and defiant. he was now cringing, crushed, terror-stricken. the grim scenes i had witnessed surged through my brain. the mystery of it all had gripped my senses. carefully i analysed each event, trying to discern some light as to its cause and motive. but i was not a professional detective. this was the first time i had found myself mixed up in a crime by which human life had been lost. that the death of professor greer was no ordinary crime of violence i had quickly recognised. there was some subtle motive both in the crime itself and in the supposed presence of the professor in edinburgh, whereas in reality he was already lying dead in his own laboratory. those instructions to his daughter, which seemed to have been written after his departure from king's cross, also formed an enigma in themselves. the dead man had actually sought the assistance of his worst enemy! yet, when i weighed the circumstances as a whole calmly and coolly, i saw that if the unknown person to whom the professor had signalled on that fateful night could be found a very great point would be gained towards the solution of the problem. the pulling up and down of the drawing-room blind was, no doubt, in order to inform some person waiting without of his journey north. was that person who received the signal afterwards the assassin? yet the fact that the crime was committed behind locked doors, that both the victim and the assassin had to pass within a few feet of where miss ethelwynn was seated, and that into the unfortunate professor's face some terribly corrosive fluid had been dashed, formed a problem which held me mystified. there was something uncanny in the whole inexplicable affair. i now realised for the first time how complete was the mystery of the professor's death, even apart from the other facts of his signals and his journey north. kirk, this dealer in secrets, admittedly posed as a friend of the family. greer trusted him. to him ethelwynn had fled for assistance at the first suspicion of anything being wrong. therefore would it not have been easier for him than for anyone else to enter the house in secret and kill the man who had stolen from him that mysterious secret? yet, try how i would, i was unable to rid myself of the grave conviction that my new acquaintance was cognisant of more than he had told me. he was naturally a reserved man, it was true; yet there was an air of cosmopolitanism about him which spoke mutely of the adventurer. his refusal to allow a doctor to see the professor's daughter was nothing short of culpable. had antonio, that sly, crafty italian, to whom i had taken such instinctive dislike, summoned a doctor at once, it was quite possible that the poor girl's life might have been saved. but why had she returned to the house in a manner so secret? why had she crept into the dining-room and removed her hat? it would almost seem as though she had returned for good, for if she had intended to go back to her aunt's she would not have taken off her hat and laid it aside. and why had she done so in the dining-room, of all places? why had she not ascended to her own room? and why, most of all, had she not summoned antonio? was it because of fear of him? kirk and antonio were friends. that i had detected from the very first. the italian was polite, urbane, servile, yet i saw that the bow was only a shallow make-believe. alone together, the pair would, no doubt, stand upon an equal footing. the reason she had returned home was mysterious enough, yet the greater problem was the reason why she also had been struck down and the same corrosive liquid flung into her fair countenance. i could not think that kirk was responsible for this second assassination, for, unless antonio had lied, it had been committed at the very hour when i had been seated with my mysterious neighbour only a few doors away from my own house. so, as you may readily imagine, i was still sorely troubled when at last the maid brought me my hot water and i rose to dress. i quite saw now that the reason why kirk had called to inspect the new eckhardt tyre was merely in order to make my acquaintance. yet it was certainly curious that he should have predicted the visits of the two other men for the same purpose. after breakfast i went, as usual, to the garage, but my mind was still full of the events of the previous night. kirk had arranged to call for me at eleven and return to sussex place, where he intended to search for any finger-marks left by the assassin. eleven o'clock struck, but he did not arrive. in patience i waited until one, and then returned home to luncheon, as was my habit. his non-arrival confirmed my suspicions. what, i wondered, could have been the purport of that mysterious message in german that he had listened to on the telephone just before we had parted? at two o'clock i called at his house and rang the door-bell. there was no response. both kirk and his sister were out. so i returned to the garage, and with dick drake, my stout, round-faced, dare-devil driver, who held two records at brooklands, and was everlastingly being fined for exceeding the speed limit, i worked hard upon the refractory engine of a car which had been sent to me for repair. all day it was misty, but towards evening the fog increased, until it became thick even in chiswick, therefore i knew that it must be a regular "london particular" in the west end. one driver, indeed, who had come in from romford, said he had taken four hours to cross london. hence i resolved to possess my soul in patience and spend a quiet evening at home with my wife and her young sister, who lived with us. curiously enough, however, i found myself, towards six o'clock, again seized by a sudden and uncontrollable desire to return to sussex place in search of my mysterious neighbour. i felt within me a keen, irrepressible anxiety to fathom the curious problem which that shabby man, who declared himself immune from trial in a criminal court, had placed before me. who could he be, that, like the king himself, he could not be brought before a judge? at times i found myself laughing at his absurd statements, and regarding them as those of a lunatic; but at others i was bound to admit that his seriousness showed him to be in deadly earnest. well, to cut a long story short, at eight o'clock i took dick drake and managed to creep over in the fog to regent's park on one of the small cars. the door was opened, as before, by antonio, who perceptibly started when he recognised me. yes, mr. kirk was there, he admitted, and a few seconds later he came to me in the hall. he was a changed man. his face was thinner, sallower, more haggard, and the lines about his mouth deeper and more marked; yet he greeted me affably, with many apologies for not keeping his appointment. "i was here, very busy," he explained. "i rang you up twice on the 'phone, but each time you were engaged." "well," i asked, going straight to the point, "what have you discovered?" "very little," he said. "i've searched all day for finger-prints, but up to the present have found none, save those of antonio, ethelwynn, and members of the household." "you do not suspect any of the servants?" i whispered, full of suspicion of the crafty-looking italian. "of course not, my dear sir. what motive could they have in killing such an excellent, easygoing master as the professor?" "revenge for some fancied grievance," i suggested. but he only laughed my theory to scorn. i followed him upstairs, through the red boudoir to the laboratory, to which the fog had penetrated, and there watched him making his test for recent finger-prints. his examination was both careful and methodical. he drew a pair of old grey suede gloves over his hands, and, taking up one after another of the bottles and glass apparatus, he lightly coated them with some finely powdered chalk of a grey-green colour, afterwards dusting it off. on one or two of the bottles prints of fingers were revealed, and each of these he very carefully examined beneath the light, rejecting them one after the other. to me, unacquainted as i was with the various lines of the finger-tips, all looked alike. but this shabby, mysterious neighbour of mine apparently read them with the utmost ease, as he would a book. in its corner, in the same position in which we had left it on the previous night, lay the hideous body of the professor, crouching just as he had expired. but kershaw kirk worked on, heedless of its presence. i remarked to him that he was a careful and painstaking detective, whereupon he straightened his back, and, looking me in the face, said: "please don't run away with the idea that i'm a detective, mr. holford. i am not. i have no connection whatever with the police, whom, i may tell you, i hold in contempt. there's far too much red-tape at scotland yard, which binds the men hand and foot and prevents them doing any real good work. look at the serious crimes committed in london during the past three years to the perpetrators of which the police have no clue! the whole police system in london is wrong. there's too much observation upon the speed of motor-cars and too little latitude allowed the police for inquiry into criminal cases." "then you are not a police officer?" i asked, for within the last few hours i had become suspicious that such was the fact. "no, i am not. the reason i am inquiring into the death of professor greer is because, for the sake of my own reputation, and in order to clear myself of any stigma upon me, i must ascertain the truth." "and only for that reason?" i queried. he hesitated. "well--and for another--another which must remain a confidential matter with myself," he replied at length. "the professor was in possession of a certain secret, and my belief is that this secret was stolen from him and his mouth afterwards closed by the thief." "why?" "because, had the unfortunate man spoken, certain complications, very serious complications, involving huge losses, would have accrued. so there was only one way--to kill poor greer! but the manner in which this was accomplished is still an absolute enigma." "has it not struck you that the telegram sent from edinburgh may have been despatched by the assassin?" i asked. but he was uncertain. he had as yet, he said, formed no theory as to that portion of the problem. "where is the unfortunate girl?" i asked, for i had noticed that she was not in the dining-room. he looked at me quickly, with a strange expression in his peculiar eyes. "she's still here, of course," he declared. "that second phase of the mystery is as complicated as the first--perhaps even more so. come with me a moment." i followed him through the boudoir and into the study, where, opening a long cupboard in the wall, a small iron safe was revealed, the door of which opened at his touch. "here," he explained, "the professor kept the valuable notes upon the results of his experiments. the safe was closed when i first called, but this morning i found it open, and the contents gone!" "then the person who killed professor greer was not the thief!" i remarked. "unless he returned here afterwards," was kirk's reply, with his eyes fixed upon mine. then he glanced at his watch, and without a word turned upon his heel and passed out of the room. chapter six. a further mystery. i stood awaiting his return for a few moments, and then followed him out upon the landing, where my feet fell noiselessly upon the thick turkey carpet. almost opposite, across the open staircase, i could see into the large drawing-room, and there, to my amazement, i saw kirk raising and lowering one of the blinds. he was making the same signal to someone outside in the park as that made by the professor before his death! i slipped back to the study, much puzzled, but in a few moments he returned, smiling and affable. what signal had he made--and to whom? it was foggy outside, therefore the watcher must have been in the close vicinity. antonio appeared at the door, whereupon kirk gave the manservant certain instructions regarding the payment and discharge of the servants. apparently one of them had returned and asked for her wages in lieu of notice. "be liberal with them," urged my companion. "we don't want any grumbling. there is no suspicion as yet, and liberality will disarm it." "very well, signore," replied the man, "i will pay them all and get rid of them as soon as possible." "yes, at once," kirk snapped, and the man went down the stairs. "well," i asked, after he was out of hearing, "what do you intend doing now?" "i never set out any line of action. in such a case as this any such method is folly," he replied. "but at least you will do something with the bodies of the victims? they must be buried," i exclaimed, for the gruesomeness of it all was now preying upon me. this was the first time that i had ever been implicated in a murder mystery--_and such a mystery_! "the disposal of the bodies is my own affair, mr. holford," he said quietly. "leave that to me. as far as the world knows, professor greer and his daughter are away visiting." "but lady mellor! is she not anxious regarding her niece's whereabouts?" "lady mellor is on the riviera. her house in upper brook street is in charge of servants, therefore she is unaware that anything extraordinary has transpired." "your only confidant is antonio?" "and your own self," he added. "but have i not already impressed upon you, my dear friend, the absolute necessity of secrecy in this affair?" "you have given me no actual reason," i demurred. "because certain circumstances bind me to secrecy," was his reply. "from what i have already told you i dare say you have gathered that i am no ordinary individual. i am vested by a high authority with a power which other men do not possess, and in this case i am compelled to exercise it." he saw the look of disbelief upon my countenance. "ah," he laughed, "i see you doubt me! well, i am not surprised; i should do so were i in your place. but, believe me or not, mr. holford, you will lose nothing, by assisting me in this affair and performing a secret service for the high authority who must be nameless, but whose trusted agent i am--even though the onus of this strange tragedy may be cast upon me." "the whole affair is a mystery," i remarked--"an inscrutable mystery." "yes," he sighed, "one that has been rendered a hundredfold more inscrutable by a discovery made to-day--the discovery which prevented me calling upon you at eleven o'clock. but remain patient, trust in me, assist me when i desire assistance, and it will, i promise, be well worth your while." for a moment i was silent. then, a trifle annoyed, i answered: "my legitimate profession of motor-engineer pays me quite well, and i think i prefer, with your permission, to retire from this affair altogether." "what!" he exclaimed. "after giving me your promise--your word as a gentleman! can't you see, my friend, that you can assist in furthering the ends of justice--in fastening the guilt upon the assassin?" "that, i maintain, should be left to the police." "bah! the police in this case would be powerless. the problem is for us, you and i, to solve, and by the exercise of patience and watchfulness we shall, i hope, be able to elucidate the mystery. "the inquiries may carry us far afield; i have a keen presentiment that they will. therefore if i am suddenly absent do not trouble on my account. my silence will mean that i am watchful and active. when i am abroad i make a point of receiving no letters, therefore do not write. i always communicate with my friends through the advertisement columns of the _times_. to you i shall be `silence.' "take the paper daily and watch for any message i may send you. you have a car outside, i suppose? i wonder whether you would take me to tottenham court road?" he asked. thereupon we went below, and after a whispered conversation with antonio, who was waiting in one of the back rooms, he mounted into the car, and dick drove us very slowly through the fog half-way down tottenham court road, where kirk alighted. "shall i wait for you?" i asked. "no," he replied; "i really don't know how long i shall be. besides, i shall not return to bedford park to-night. it's very kind of you, but i won't trouble you further. good night, mr. holford! perhaps i shall see you to-morrow. if not, then recollect to keep an eye upon the _times_ for a message from `silence.'" and he shook my hand, descended, and went forward into the yellow fog. my curiosity was aroused; therefore in an instant i had resolved to follow him and ascertain whither he went. in the direction he had taken towards oxford street, i started off, but before me the lights blurred in the misty obscurity. foot-passengers on the pavement loomed up in the uncertain light and melted again, and as i hurried on i discerned the figures before me with difficulty. where the shopfronts were lit were patches of red mist, but where they were closed it was almost complete darkness, for in that neighbourhood the fog was thicker than further westward, and dick had had considerable trouble in finding his way there at a snail's pace. in my haste i collided with several persons coming my way, apologising and going forward again until i came to a corner where a shop was well-lit. of a sudden i distinguished the man i was following; he had halted in conversation with the shop-keeper, who was pointing up the side street. in the fog, kirk was evidently out of his bearings. i drew back, so as to escape observation, but i watched him plunge into the darkness of the side street, and i was soon at his heels. it was a squalid neighbourhood into which we had entered. i had been through it before, but was not certain which street it might be down which we were going. guided by his footsteps i went on behind him. fortunately my tread was soft, owing to the rubber heels i wore. at the crossing i listened, at first uncertain whether he had turned to the right or left, or gone straight on. again the footsteps sounded out of the obscurity, which now caused my eyes to smart, and i knew that he had gone straight forward, so on i went. at the next corner i was nearer him, near enough to distinguish that he crossed the road and suddenly turned along the pavement to the right. we were evidently going in the direction of fitzroy square, though in which street i had no idea. in fear lest his quick ears should detect that i was following, i fell back a little, allowing him to get further in front. the houses we were then passing were good-sized private ones interspersed with shops, substantial houses of the usual style found in the decayed districts of london, dark, gloomy, and mysterious-looking. i recognised that we were in cleveland street. then we turned again-- the first turning on the left round the corner by a laundry. of a sudden i heard kirk halt, as though in doubt. it seemed as though he was retracing his steps, having passed the house of which he was in search. quick as thought, in order to avoid meeting him face to face, i stepped off the kerb into the roadway. he passed by within a few yards of me, yet entirely unconscious of my proximity. then he repassed, as though having satisfied himself that he had not yet reached his goal. in a london fog, one house is very much like another, especially in a side street. in the distance i saw a red glimmer--the light of a surgery. two dark, evil-looking men lurched past me, and then a woman, half-drunken and reeling. for a few seconds i lost his footsteps, but again they reached my ears. the sound was a different one. he had ascended one of the flights of steps! i hurried forward, but as i did so i heard a door close sharply. he had entered one of those dark houses, but which of four or five i was, unfortunately, utterly at a loss to decide. the exterior of each i examined carefully, taking note of their number. in two of them yellow gas-jets were burning over the grimy fanlights, throwing out a faint light into the pall of the fog, while in one a light was burning in the front room of the ground floor. all were let in squalid apartments, for there seemed a general frowsiness about that undesirable neighbourhood, where the greater part of the inhabitants were foreigners of the working class. each house, with its railings and deep area, had but little to distinguish it from its neighbours, all were dirty, neglected, and forbidding in that darkness and gloom. i stood in chagrin at having thus lost sight of my mysterious friend, and could only wait for his exit. two of the houses were within the zone of the weak light thrown by the street-lamp; the other three were in obscurity. in one of them--which one i knew not--kershaw kirk had kept an appointment, arranged, perhaps, by that signal which he had made by the raising and lowering of the blind. my position was most tantalising, yet i felt that if i remained there on watch i should most certainly see him come out, and then at least know the number of the one he had visited. midnight rang out from a church clock somewhere, but there had been no sign of him. dick must, i knew, have grown tired of waiting, and, thinking me lost in the fog, would slowly creep homeward. the ever-watchful vigil i was keeping in that terrible atmosphere fagged me. i became numbed with cold, and very hungry. yet i dare not leave the spot lest kirk should come forth, so i stood leaning against the railings in patience, full of wonder and apprehension. more than once i feared that the "dealer in secrets" might notice me from within if he chanced to look out. hence from time to time i changed my position. my impression was that he had entered with a latch-key, for scarce had he reached the top of the steps when he was inside, with the door closed behind him; either that, or else someone was waiting there to admit him. another hour had nearly passed, when suddenly i was startled by a loud scream--a woman's piercing scream--which appeared to come from the first of the houses which lay in the darkness. twice was that cry repeated, and i sped to the house whence it emanated. the place was in complete darkness. no light shone from any window of the gloomy, dismal house. a third time was the shriek repeated, coming from the room behind the railing on a level with the door. as i stood upon the pavement i was only a few feet from the window. "help! help! for god's sake, help! you brute! i thought i had escaped you. no! ah! don't! i beg--i implore you! ah!" shrieked a refined voice, the voice of a young woman. and then, in despairing tones that grew fainter with every syllable, i heard the words long drawn out. "ah! you--you've--killed--me! killed me!--just as you killed my--dear--father!" i stood listening to that dying appeal, bewildered, utterly staggered. what could i think? place yourself in my position and ask yourself what you, in those circumstances, would have thought? chapter seven. another person becomes inquisitive. i was uncertain what to do. was it best to ascend the steps, knock boldly at the door, and inquire the reason of that frantic appeal? or should i remain silent and watch? if kirk had caused the professor's death, then why had he enlisted my aid? but was i not a complete novice, in the detection of crime, and might not all his protestations of friendship be a mere blind, a clever ruse to cover the truth? i stood on the pavement, my ears strained to catch any sound within. but all was silent again. those final words of the woman's desperate appeal for help rang in my ears: "_you've killed me, just as you killed my dear father_!" the woman who had shrieked could surely have no connection with the tragedy in sussex place, for, alas! ethelwynn greer was dead. i had, with my own eyes, seen her stiff and stark. then what did it all mean? was this an additional phase of the already inscrutable problem? i gazed at the window, where no light escaped through the lowered venetian blinds. the very darkness struck me as strange, for either there were closed shutters upon the blinds, or some heavy curtains had been drawn carefully across to exclude any ray of light from being seen without. in the neighbourhood wherein i was, i recollected there were many mysterious houses--secret clubs where waiters and foreigners of the lower class danced, drank, and played faro, and were often raided by the police. those streets bore a very bad reputation. after all, i was not exactly certain that the house whence emanated the shrieks was the actual house into which kirk had entered. hence i was both undecided and bewildered. for that reason i waited, my eyes glued upon the dark door and house-front. suddenly, above the fanlight, i saw the flickering light of a candle carried down the hall, and a moment later the door opened. in fear of recognition i sprang back into the roadway, where, at that distance, the fog obscured me. someone descended the steps, and, turning to the left, went in the direction whence i had come. i followed stealthily for some distance until i at last made out the figure in the weak light of a street-lamp. it was not kirk, only a forbidding-looking old woman in faded bonnet and shawl--a typical gin-drinking hag of a type one may see in hundreds in that neighbourhood. i had followed her down into cleveland street, where she turned to the left, when it suddenly occurred to me that, in my absence, kirk might make his exit. therefore i rather foolishly abandoned pursuit, and retraced my steps. judge my chagrin, my utter disgust with myself when, on returning, i failed to recognise from which house the woman had come! in that puzzling pall of fog, which grew thicker and more impenetrable every moment, i hesitated to decide which of three or four houses was the place whence the woman's cries had emanated. that hesitation was fatal to my success. in my excitement i had taken no notice of the number upon the door, and now i paced backwards and forwards before the railings of four houses, all almost exactly similar, all in darkness, all equally dingy and mysterious. which of those houses held kershaw kirk i knew not, neither could i decide from which of the four had come those despairing cries. i had been a fool, a very great fool, for not going boldly to the door and demanding an explanation, even though i might have received a rough handling, alone and unarmed as i was. so i returned to the street-lamp and tried to recognise the house from the point where i had stood when the first cry had fallen upon my ears. but, alas! again i could not decide. my impulse to follow the woman had been my undoing, for i somehow felt a strong conviction that kirk had escaped during my absence in cleveland street, for though i waited in that dense and choking blackness beneath the red lamp of a surgery at the further corner for still another hour, he came not. therefore i was compelled very reluctantly to grope my way back into the tottenham court road, where at last i found a hansom, and with a man leading the horse, i fell asleep as we went westward, so fagged and exhausted was i by that long and unpleasant vigil. the wife of a motorist like myself is used to her husband's late hours, therefore i had little difficulty in excusing myself to mabel, yet when i retired to bed no sleep came to my eyes. that woman's shrill, despairing cry rang ever in my ears. those words of hers were so mysterious, so ominous. "_you've killed me, just as you killed my dear father_!" should i go to the police in the morning and make a clean breast of the whole affair? at dawn i found the fog had lifted, therefore, after looking in at the garage, i called upon kirk, resolved to pretend ignorance of his visit to the house off the tottenham court road. but again i was disappointed, for he had been absent all night. his sister was ignorant of his whereabouts, but, as she explained, his movements were ever erratic. this caused me to make another visit to the house, which, in the light of day, i found to be in foley street, an even more squalid neighbourhood than i had believed. at the corner of cleveland street was the laundry, the windows of which were painted grey so that the passer-by could not peer within. the street seemed to be the play-ground of numberless dirty children, while the houses, all of which were let in tenements, were smoke-grimed and dismal. at some of the windows the cheap lace curtains hung limp and yellow, and at others the windows had been white-washed to prevent people looking in. the neighbourhood was one that had sadly decayed, for even the public-house a little way up the street was closed and to let. i stood outside the easily recognised surgery in order to take my bearings, and quickly discovered the three or four houses from one of which had come that cry in the night. yet which house it was, i knew not. therefore what could i do? to remain there might attract kirk's attention if he were within. hence i was afraid to loiter, so i passed on into langham street, and thus out into portland place. i had become obsessed by the mystery of it all. i returned to chiswick, and tried to give my mind to the details of my business, but all without avail. i saw that pelham, my manager, was surprised at my apparent absent-mindedness. i knew it was incumbent upon me to go to the police-station, which was only a few hundred yards from me on the opposite side of the road, and tell the inspector on duty the whole story. yet somehow the affair, with all its mysterious features, had fascinated me, and kershaw kirk most of all. the information was mine, and it was for me to solve this remarkable enigma. kirk's absence from home, and his failure to communicate with me, showed that either he mistrusted me, or that he was purposely misleading me for the attainment of his own ends. he had sought my friendship and assistance, and yet next day he had abandoned me in doubt and ignorance. i managed to get through the day at the garage, and eagerly bought the evening paper, anxious to see whether the tragedy had become public property; but as yet it was unknown. i dined at home, and i suppose my manner was so preoccupied that mabel, my wife, asked: "what's the matter, harry? you seem unusually worried?" "oh! i don't know, dear," i replied, trying to laugh. "i've had a lot of things to do at the office to-day," i added in excuse; "i've got to go back this evening." mabel pouted, and i knew the reason. i had promised to run her and her sister over to teddington to see some friends with whom we had promised to spend the evening. but i was in no mood for visiting friends. i went along to kirk's house, and, finding him still absent, took the train from hammersmith to baker street, and walked through clarence gate to sussex place. it had just struck nine when i halted at the professor's door, but i drew back suddenly when i saw a tall, well-dressed, clean-shaven young man in hard felt hat and overcoat, standing in the doorway. he had rung, and was evidently awaiting an answer to his summons. the place was, i noticed, in darkness. antonio had evidently omitted to switch on the light in the hall. what could that young man want at the house of death? unfortunately, i had not been quick enough, for as i halted he turned upon me, realising that to call there was my intention. "this is strange!" he remarked to me, "i've been ringing here nearly half an hour, and can get no reply. yet when i passed the front of the house there was a light in the small drawing-room. i've never before known the place to be left; there are always servants here, even if the professor and his daughter are absent." it occurred to me that antonio had detected him from within, and that he might be an unwelcome visitor. i recollected kirk's strict injunctions to the faithful italian. "antonio may be out," i suggested. "but the maids would surely be at home," he argued. "i wonder if thieves are inside? i somehow suspect it," he whispered. "why?" "because i distinctly heard a movement in the hall about ten minutes ago," he answered. "will you go round to the front and see if there are lights in any of the rooms, while i remain here? you'll soon see the house--the first with the long columns at the drawing-room windows." i consented, and was quickly round at the front. but the whole place was in total darkness. not a light showed anywhere. i returned, and suggested that in passing he might have been mistaken. there were lights in the windows of the adjoining house. "no," declared the young man, who, by his speech, i recognised was well educated, "i made no mistake. there's some mystery here. i wired from paris to miss greer this morning, making an appointment this evening. it's curious that she's out." "you are a friend of the family, i suppose?" i asked, eager to know who the young fellow was. "yes," he replied; "and you?" "i am also," was my answer. what other reply could i make? "i believe the professor is up in scotland," i added. "but where is antonio and all the other servants?" he argued. "well," i said, "their master being absent, they may all be out, spending the evening; servants have a habit of doing so in the absence of their masters." "then how do you account for the movements i have heard inside?" he asked. "no; if the servants are out, then the thieves are within. will you stay here to bar their exit, while i go out and find a constable?" mention of the police caused me to wince. this young man was in ignorance of what had really occurred. "i should remain patient a little while if i were you," i said. "antonio may return at any moment; he surely cannot have gone far." "on the contrary, i think he has." "why?" "well, curiously enough, this afternoon, when i alighted from the paris express and was passing through the buffet at calais, i caught sight of a man who strangely resembled him. he turned his head and hurried away. at the moment i failed to recognise the likeness, and not until half an hour later, when the boat was already on its way across to dover, did i recollect that he was very like the professor's faithful antonio." i held my breath. chapter eight. a fresh turn in affairs. here was the whole affair in danger of being exposed to the police and public by this young man's encounter with the professor's servant! if it were exposed, then i should be compelled to give some account of myself. it would certainly be difficult to convince the police that i had no knowledge of the professor's death. "well," i remarked, "that antonio should be leaving calais seems somewhat curious, but perhaps it may have only been somebody resembling him." "of course, i'm not quite sure," the young man replied; "but is it not curious that miss greer and the servants are all out? the professor is always so very careful of his experiments and the contents of his laboratory that the house is never left untenanted." "i've called quite by chance and upon business," i explained. "i'm a motor-car engineer, and i live in chiswick. my name is holford." "mine's langton--leonard langton," he answered. then, after a second's hesitation, he added, "ethelwynn--miss greer--is to become my wife. that's why i'm surprised that she hasn't kept the appointment i made." i was silent. what if i told him of the girl's mysterious death? what would he say? how would he act? he seemed a smart, active, well-set-up fellow, quick, energetic, with a pair of merry grey eyes and a good-natured smile. indeed, i took to him from the first. yet how dare i divulge a word of what i knew? "the only thing is to wait," i suggested. "but if the professor is in scotland, as you say, why have you called this evening?" he asked, with some little suspicion, i thought. for the moment i was nonplussed. "i wondered whether he had returned," was my rather lame reply. "i simply called on the off-chance of seeing him." "was your business of a pressing nature?" he asked, still wondering, i think, whether i might not have some connection with thieves who might be within. perhaps he now suspected me of being an accomplice, set to watch outside. my hesitation when he suggested calling the police had no doubt aroused his suspicion. besides, i suppose my agitation had caused him some surprise, for i was in deadly fear lest the police should be called, and should enter there. the dead girl's lover was a man of strongly marked character, that i could see. when once he learned the truth i should surely be suspected of having secret knowledge of the crime! "well?" he asked, as we still stood before the closed door, "what shall we do?" "wait," i again suggested, "the professor is evidently still away. he may have sent antonio across to the continent upon some business." "if so, then there are undoubtedly thieves within. since i've been waiting here the light in the small drawing-room overlooking the park has been extinguished--put out, no doubt, immediately i rang. no," he went on, "we must call the police. will you go and get a constable--or shall i?" "you go," i said, in a blank voice. "i--i'll wait here." i saw that the game was up. his suspicions were aroused, and he intended to take immediate action. "there's sure to be a policeman along at clarence gate," he said; "i've often noticed a man on point-duty there. but," he added, suddenly facing me and looking straight into my eyes, for the street-lamp shone brightly upon the spot where we were standing, "tell me, mr. holford, have you told me the actual truth?" "the truth!" i echoed. "why, of course i have! here is my card," and i gave him one from my cigarette-case, wherein i always carried them. he read it eagerly, and in exchange gave me one of his, laughing as he said: "i feared, perhaps, that you might be in association with the men inside. forgive me for suspecting you, won't you?" "of course. i knew you doubted me," i answered, smiling. "i'll remain here until you return, though, to be frank, i don't see very much cause for alarm." "i do. there's a mystery here--one which we must fathom. keep watch. i'll be back in a few moments." and he left the steps and, turning to the left, disappeared round the corner. i stood outside the door, my ears strained to catch the slightest sound. the young man's presence there was indeed an unfortunate contretemps. in the silence i could hear my own heart thumping. of a sudden, however, i thought i could detect a sound of movement within. i listened attentively. yes, i was not mistaken, someone was actually in the hall! what if it were the unknown assassin, returned to the scene of his crime? my heart-beats quickened. the dead girl's lover had not been mistaken. the lights had been put out when the person or persons inside were disturbed by his ring. in a few moments he would be there with the police, and the crime would be properly investigated. but what account could i myself give of the reason of my call? if i were suspected, the police might inquire into my movements during the past few days and gain knowledge of my visits there! my position was growing to one of great seriousness. every moment increased my peril. across the narrow road rose the great blank wall of a mews, while in the room on the first floor above where showed the high, dark window stretching across nearly the whole frontage of the house, lay huddled, i knew, the body of the dead professor. i was still listening, full of wonder as to who might be lurking in that house of death, when, of a sudden, i heard the latch touched, and slowly and silently the big door opened. i drew back, prepared for a fight, but next second a cry of amazement escaped my lips when i saw in the darkness of the cautiously-opened door a man's face--the thin, sallow, frightened face of kershaw kirk. "it's i, holford!" he gasped. "i must get away. langton must not see me. remember you must not breathe a single word of your knowledge of myself! success now depends entirely upon your silence. i will wire an appointment with you to-morrow. be careful, or you yourself may now be suspected." "but why not tell the police?" i demanded, barring his way. "police be hanged!" he cried impatiently. "have i not already told you? i have no time to argue. langton must not see me--he must know nothing of me. a word from you would mean loss incalculable, and all hope of elucidating the mystery would instantly be at an end. which way did young langton go?" "towards clarence gate," i replied almost mechanically, for his sudden appearance there had startled me. "good!" he cried; "then i'll go in the opposite direction. be silent, holford, and rely upon me. whatever you may discover, do not betray any surprise. in this affair you will probably meet with a good deal that will surprise you--as it has already surprised me." "where's antonio?" i demanded. "gone." "abroad?" "i--well, how can i tell? he's left here. that's all i know," replied this mysterious man very lamely. i sniffed in suspicion. "do, i beg of you, tell me more of this affair, mr. kirk," i urged, speaking quickly. "if you are really my friend, if you really wish me to assist you, why not instruct me how to act? if you will tell me the truth, i will keep a still tongue." "you will be more silent if you remain in ignorance," was his response. "listen! i must get away," and before i could prevent him he had closed the door quietly behind him. i noticed that he was attired in clothes quite different from his usual habit. indeed, he was smartly dressed, wearing a black overcoat with a velvet collar, and well-ironed silk hat. "stay and face langton," i urged. "take him into your confidence. surely no good can be served by this elusiveness." "you don't know what you're saying, man!" he cried. "let me pass. i've been listening to all you told the young man. your story was quite a feasible one. keep it up, and affect entire ignorance of me. it is the only way if we are to place our hand upon poor greer's assassin." "the proper course for me to pursue, mr. kirk, is to--" "footsteps! i must go!" he cried hoarsely, in a voice which plainly betrayed his intense agitation and anxiety not to come face to face with the dead girl's lover. "i'll try and see you to-morrow or next day. remain in patience till you hear from me. good-bye." and the next instant he ran lightly down the steps and sped away to the left, out of sight. all this had happened within three minutes. scarce had he disappeared, when langton, accompanied by two constables, turned the corner, and found me on guard at the door. i felt bewildered. kirk's sudden appearance at the door of that house of mystery had taken me so aback that i had scarcely yet recovered. did not his admission that the faithful antonio had left bear out langton's story of having seen the fellow passing through the buffet at calais station? the young man had, i saw, been explaining his suspicions to the constables on their way to the house. i was glad that there was only a blank wall opposite, otherwise my action in allowing kirk to leave the place might easily have been observed and misconstrued. what, i wondered, was the reason of my strange friend being in there alone? why had the lights been so suddenly extinguished when langton had rung the bell? that he feared langton was evident. why? within myself i resolved to put some guarded questions and ascertain, if possible, what ethelwynn's lover knew of this man who had so ingeniously drawn me into that maelstrom of doubt and grim tragedy. the two constables were instantly on the alert. they examined the lock of the front door, conversing in low whispers, then, after a brief consultation, one of the pair left hurriedly, in order to place a guard upon the front of the premises, overlooking the garden, which divided the crescent from the park. presently he returned, accompanied by a brown-bearded sergeant, who recognised langton as having been witness in a motor-car accident in cumberland terrace a couple of months before. the sergeant pressed the button of the electric bell for a long time, and though we waited anxiously there was, of course, no response. "i'm certain somebody is within," declared langton excitedly; "i saw the light quite distinctly." "very well, sir, if you're certain," replied the sergeant gruffly, "we'll have to force an entry. but remember, if you're mistaken, it will be a trifle awkward. the owner might come upon you for damage." "i'll stand the racket of all that," declared the young man readily. "there are thieves in here, i'm certain." "it may be only a maid who has a visitor, and who believes her master, or young mistress, has returned," i suggested, full of apprehension at the alarming discovery which must be made as soon as the police entered and searched the place. "then all the worse for her, sir," answered one of the constables grimly. and again they banged at the door and continued ringing. all, however, was silence and darkness. what would they have thought had they known that i had allowed the mysterious kirk, who had been lurking there, to escape? had i acted foolishly in doing so? i was forced to the conclusion that i had. while sergeant and constables were in counsel as to what course should be adopted, an inspector, who had been warned by the constable on guard at the front, arrived, and was told langton's story. "this is professor greer's," he remarked; "i think we'd better force an entry, sergeant. that basement window down there looks easy of access," and he pointed to a window of the back-kitchen. "yes," replied the bearded man addressed, as a constable shone his lantern down upon it, "we could break the glass and turn back the catch. there are no bars there." this course was quickly adopted. the inspector, taking one of the men's truncheons, tapped the glass lightly until he had cracked it, and then pulled the pieces forward till he could insert his hand and release the catch. the window thus opened, the two constables, truncheons in hand and lights turned on, crept into the kitchen and disappeared, while we stood waiting anxiously without, our ears strained in listening. a few moments later, one of the men threw open the front door, and together we entered the dark and silent house of mystery. i stood back, passing into the wide hall last of all. there was now no hiding the grim, astounding truth from police and public. i held my breath, awaiting the sensation that must be caused by the discovery. as i anticipated, a discovery was made very quickly. but, strangely enough, it was not at all what i had looked for. it only added further mystery to the altogether inscrutable problem. chapter nine. i discover something. on the light being switched on in the dining-room, i held my breath, expecting that langton would there find the body of the girl he loved. it had, however, been removed. the yellow cushion was still there, flung upon the leather couch where the unfortunate girl had lain, but there was no sign of any tragedy having been enacted. strangely enough, however, a bright fire burned in the grate, while upon the table were the remains of a repast--dinner, no doubt--of which three persons had partaken. dessert had been finished, and the three coffee-cups had been drained, while about the room was a strong odour of cigars. who had been entertained there by kirk? the set table did not, of course, strike any of my companions as at all unusual, and so they passed across to the morning-room on the opposite side of the hall, one of the constables remaining at the foot of the stairs in order to prevent the escape of any persons who might be secreted in the house. in the dining-room i loitered, for i had noticed in the grate a quantity of burnt paper. therefore, when i was alone, i stooped, and snatched up a few half-consumed scraps--leaves of a manuscript-book they appeared to be. but at the moment, having no time to examine them, i crushed them into the pocket of my jacket, and followed the quartet on their tour of investigation. every nook and corner, behind chairs, in cupboards, everywhere they searched, expecting to discover somebody secreted. but they, of course, found the house untenanted. in the smaller drawing-room, where the clean-shaven young man had noticed the light, there was a fire burning and an odour of cigars, showing that some man or men had been in the room. what consultation, i wondered, had taken place there? the large drawing-room--the room from whence the professor had signalled--was cold and cheerless, while in the study nothing had apparently been disarranged. "i think, sir," remarked the inspector to young langton, "that you must have been mistaken. i don't see any evidence of the presence of thieves here. the master is away, and the servants are all out for this evening. that's all." "but i'm quite certain there was a light when i first rang," declared langton. "then if anyone was here, he or she must still be here," replied the officer with a slightly incredulous smile, while at the same moment i recollected that as dinner had been served in the dining-room, there must also have been servants there during that evening. "is there no other door--no back door?" i queried. "no," replied langton promptly; "both front and back doors are in sussex place. the door leading to the park was bricked up by the professor, as he was always afraid that undesirable people might enter and steal the secrets of his experiments. there are two locked doors leading to the laboratory, of which he always keeps the keys. i'll show you them in a moment." and he led the way across the landing from the study to the boudoir. here i noticed that the drawers of miss greer's little rosewood escritoire stood open, and that upon the table was a miscellaneous collection of odds and ends; letters, fancy needlework, and other things, as though a hasty search had been made among the dead girl's effects. to me it appeared that whoever had been making the investigation had been disturbed in the act and had escaped. the police noticed it, while langton exclaimed: "look! ethelwynn is usually so very tidy! somebody has, no doubt, been turning over her treasures. for what reason?" and he halted before the open door leading to the passage to the laboratory. "look!" inspector, sergeant, and constable all looked, but saw nothing unusual. the door stood open--that was all. "don't you see!" cried the young man excitedly. "this door--the door which professor greer always keeps fastened--has been burst open. somebody has been here! i was not mistaken after all!" and he made his way along the passage, opening the second door and entering the darkness of the great lofty room. the constable followed with his lamp, while i held behind, knowing that in a few seconds the ghastly truth must be discovered. langton quickly found the switch, and the place was flooded with light. at the same moment a strong and pungent smell of some acid greeted our nostrils, causing us to catch our breath. it was due, we noticed, to a bottle of some liquid which had been knocked off the table nearest us, and lay smashed upon the tiled floor. full of fear and trembling, i glanced to the corner in which i had seen the professor's huddled-up body; but my heart gave a quick bound of joy. it was not there! already evidences of the double tragedy had been removed. was it for that reason, in order to remove them, that kershaw kirk had been there? "why!" exclaimed langton. "look! the furnace is alight. the professor certainly cannot be in scotland!" i glanced to the left where he had indicated, and saw that the good-sized brick furnace built in the right-hand wall, in which, by means of a great electric fan, the professor could generate, by forced draught, the intense heat he sometimes required for his experiments, was aglow. a fierce fire had evidently been burning there, but it was now slowly dying out. the warmth of the laboratory and of the brickwork of the furnace showed that the draught fan must have been used. "i wonder what the professor has been doing to-day?" remarked the inspector, examining the place with considerable curiosity. "i wonder rather what intruders have been doing here!" exclaimed langton. "you forget that both doors have been forced." the inspector stood gazing round the place in silent wonder. "well," he exclaimed at last, "i don't see the slightest evidence of burglars here, sir." "they may be hidden upstairs," suggested the young man. "remember there are many people very anxious to obtain knowledge of the professor's discoveries. that is why he is always so careful to keep these doors locked. his daughter, ethelwynn, is the only person he ever allows in here. he and she even carry in the coal for the furnace, the servants being excluded." "but thieves would hardly light up the furnace!" said the officer. "unless they wished to destroy something in the fire," responded the other. that suggestion held me aghast. upon me, like a flash, came the astounding suspicion that that furnace might have been lit for the purpose of destroying the evidence of the mysterious crime. i remembered kirk's curious and guarded response when i had referred to the burial of the body. was this, then, the reason why i had found him alone in the house? i stood staggered by the suggestion. i was near the furnace--nearer than the others. then, when i found speech again, i said: "if there are intruders in this place, they could not have escaped; they must certainly be upstairs. i agree with mr. langton that it is certainly very curious that these doors should have been forced." "how did you know that the professor is in scotland?" he inquired of me eagerly. in an instant i had a ready reply. "antonio told me so when i called on monday." "did he say when his master would be back?" asked the inspector. "he said he expected him to return last night, as he had an engagement to go with his daughter to a ball." "then he may have returned and gone to the dance," remarked the officer. "he may also have lost his keys and been compelled to break open the doors--quite a likely circumstance. three persons dined downstairs to-night. he and his daughter and a friend probably dined and afterwards went out; while the servants, knowing they would not return before midnight, may have followed them out to spend the evening. that at least is my theory at the present." "that certainly seems to be the most logical conclusion, inspector," i remarked. "we must search the upper premises before i accept it," exclaimed langton, who, i could see, was still very suspicious that something unusual had happened. the meeting with antonio in the buffet at calais had caused him to doubt, and most naturally so. my eager eyes were fixed upon the glowing furnace, the large, square, iron door of which was still red-hot, though the heat was now decreasing. at the side was a large air-shaft, in which were fitted electric fans, while on the wall were three switches by which a strong forced draught could be obtained. before the furnace door was a portion of the tiled floor railed off, to prevent the cinders from being trodden about, and in there i saw a quantity of ashes. at the side were several large crucibles, one of which, still gripped by the iron tongs or holders, contained some metal which looked like steel. carelessly i made a tour of the place, passing the corner where had lain the professor's body. i saw that all traces of blood had been carefully removed from the tiles. no one would suspect that any tragedy had occurred there. was this kirk's work? had the man who had such a contempt for the police--whom he denounced as red-taped blunderers--succeeded in removing all trace of the crime? if so, was not that sufficient proof of his own guilt? was he not fooling me when, all the time, he was the actual assassin? every fresh fact as presented in that house that night increased rather than elucidated the mystery. i longed to take the dead girl's lover into my confidence and tell him, there and then, all i knew, just as i have told you; but i hesitated. had i not given my word of honour to be silent? and, moreover, like a confounded fool, i had allowed kirk to escape! so now, more than ever, were my lips sealed. i was bound hand and foot. in a few moments the four men passed out of the laboratory, while i, as i had done below, remained behind for a moment. i stood before the furnace peering into the ashes. i saw there something which they had overlooked, or, if they had seen it, could convey nothing to them. among those grey ashes lay a black horn overcoat button! this i snatched up and transferred to my pocket. had that bottle of acid been purposely smashed in order to dispel any unpleasant odour arising from the furnace? i longed to throw myself upon my knees and examine those ashes, but, alas! i dare not. so i was compelled to follow my companions, rigid and speechless. chapter ten. leonard langton makes a statement. search of the upper portion of the premises revealed nothing--nothing, at least, to arouse the undue suspicions of the searchers. my eager glance was everywhere, but i discerned nothing further of an unusual nature. the one great truth had become impressed upon me that the man kirk, madman or master criminal, had got rid of the evidences of his crime. he must have disposed of the poor girl's body in the same manner as that of her father! i recollected that when seated with him in bath road, bedford park, he had admitted that he possessed another home. was it in foley street, that squalid house where i had heard a woman's frantic screams? i knew my duty, yet i still hesitated to perform it. my duty as a good citizen was to tell the police, openly and frankly, all that i knew. yet if i did so, would i be believed? now, after i had allowed them to search the place, i should, if i spoke, surely be suspected of trying to shield myself. no, having assumed an attitude of ignorance, i saw i was now compelled to retain it. kirk, clever, crafty, and far-seeing, had most ingeniously sealed my lips. yet why, if he were the actual criminal, had he taken me, a perfect stranger, into his confidence? and again, what connection could the eckhardt tyre have with the strange affair? who were those two mysterious callers who had followed his visit, and whom pelham had seen? what could have been their object? i stood in the large drawing-room listening to the discussion between the searchers, who had now returned there disappointed. "i can only repeat, sir," remarked the inspector, addressing langton, "that you must have been mistaken regarding the light in the window of the next room." "i'm certain i was not," replied the young man doggedly. "someone was in this house--someone who, when i rang, extinguished the light and escaped!" "but how could he have escaped?" queried the officer. "ah! that's the mystery. by the roof, perhaps." "the trap-door is bolted on the inside," declared the constable; "i examined it, sir." "or by a window leading out on to some leads somewhere?" i suggested. "there are no windows unfastened by which anyone could have escaped," the sergeant exclaimed; "i've looked at them all." "well," exclaimed the young man with a puzzled air, "nothing will ever convince me that i've brought you all here upon a fool's errand. i still maintain that something unusual has happened. why has antonio fled to france?" "we must ask the professor," replied the inspector. "he may have been sent by his master upon perfectly legitimate business. he was entirely trusted, you say." "but he saw me in the buffet at calais, and, turning, hurried away," langton said. "in other circumstances he would certainly have raised his hat in greeting; he is a most polite, tactful man." "well, sir," laughed the officer, "i don't think we can assist you any further. just go out, ," he added, turning to the constable, "and tell the two men in the park that we've finished, and they can go back to their beats." "very well, sir," responded the man, replacing his truncheon as he left the room. both inspector and sergeant soon followed him, leaving langton and myself alone. after the front door had closed, we returned to the big dining-room. "well," he exclaimed, "i don't know what your theory is, mr. holford, but i'm absolutely certain that something has happened here. there is some crooked circumstance," and i saw deep lines of thought upon his shrewd, clever, clean-shaven countenance. why dare not kirk meet him? "the absence of everybody is certainly mysterious," i admitted. "doubly mysterious when one takes into consideration the fact that the doors leading into the laboratory have been forced," he remarked quickly. "three persons dined here to-night. the professor entertained a man-friend. who was he?" "that we can only discover when the servants return," i said. "or from the professor himself," he suggested. i held my breath. what would he have said if i had told him the truth-- that the professor was dead, and that a button from his overcoat had been lying among the ashes of the furnace? i glanced around the comfortable room where the fire glowed cheerfully and the electric lights were so cunningly shaded. the professor was, among other things, a connoisseur of old silver, and upon the sideboard were a number of fine georgian pieces, tankards, salvers, candelabra, salt-cellars, decanter stands, and other things, all of which i recognised as perfect specimens. my hand went to my jacket pocket, and i there felt the button. i withdrew my fingers in horror. we had decided to await the return of the professor. await his return! surely we would have a long time to wait for his arrival? i was on my mettle. i alone knew the truth, and to conceal my secret knowledge from this shrewd and active young man would, i saw, be difficult. we seated ourselves beside the fire, and, having offered me a cigarette from his case, he began to endeavour to learn more about me. but at first i was very wary, and exercised caution in my replies. he apologised for mistaking me for an accomplice of thieves, whereat i laughed, saying: "when we meet the professor he will perhaps tell you of our long friendship." "curiously enough," he said, looking straight across at me, "i never recollect ethelwynn speaking of you." "i knew very little of the young lady," i hastened to explain; "the professor is my friend. he has, on several occasions, told me what a great help she was to him in his experiments." "she is his right hand," declared the young man. "her knowledge of certain branches of chemistry is, perhaps, unequalled in a woman." "and yet she is delightful and charming, and nothing of a blue-stocking, i understand," i remarked. he smiled, for was he not the happy lover! ah! what an awakening must be his ere long! but we gossiped on. his face, however, betrayed a great anxiety, and time after time he expressed wonder why ethelwynn had not remained at home to keep the appointment, or left him some message. indeed, we searched both her boudoir and her bedroom to find his telegram, but all in vain. then again we returned to the dining-room. "i suppose you've known the professor for some years," i remarked, hoping that he would tell me the story of their acquaintance. "oh, yes," answered the young man, twisting a fresh cigarette between his fingers. "i first met him and ethelwynn at the gandolfi palace, in rome, four years ago. i was staying with my aunt, the marchesa gandolfi, and they were at the grand hotel. i saw quite a lot of them all through the roman season. the professor gave some lectures before one of the italian learned societies, and i had frequent opportunities to take ethelwynn out to see the sights of the eternal city. i happen to know rome very well, for i spent all my youth there with my aunt, an englishwoman, who married into the roman nobility, and who, like every other englishwoman who takes such a step, repented it afterwards." "you mean she was not very happy with her husband?" i said. "i've heard before that mixed marriages in italy are never very successful." "no," he sighed; "my poor aunt, though she became a marchesa and possessed a dozen different titles and probably the finest palazzo in rome, was very soon disillusioned. the marchese was an over-dressed elegant, who lived mostly at his club, ogled women each afternoon in the corso, or played baccarat till dawn. and roman society was not at all kind to her because she was just a plain englishwoman of a county family. gandolfi was thrown from his horse while riding over one of his estates down in calabria two years ago." "the professor was a friend of your aunt's, i suppose?" "yes, an old friend. at the time when we met, ethelwynn had, i found, an ardent admirer in a young italian lieutenant of infantry, who had met her once or twice at the grand and in the english tea-rooms on the corso, and had fallen desperately in love with her. "the professor told me of this, and in confidence asked whether i knew the grey-trousered popinjay. i did not. he had apparently told the professor of his family and high connections in bologna, had declared his love for ethelwynn, and with her consent had asked the professor for her hand in marriage. "i consulted my aunt, who was much against the matrimonial union of english and italians, and in secret i went to bologna to investigate the lieutenant's story. what i found was rather interesting. instead of being the son of a noble but decayed family, he was the only child of an old man employed as a gardener at a big villa out on the via imola, and so erratic had been his career and so many his amours, that his father had disowned him. "i returned to rome with the father's written statement in black and white." "and what happened then?" i asked, interested. "the amorous fortune-hunter spent a rather bad quarter of an hour in the professor's sitting-room, and was then quickly sent to the right-about. he quietly got transferred to another regiment up in cremona, while ethelwynn, of course, shed a good many tears." "and, her disillusionment over, she repaid you for your exertions on her behalf by becoming engaged to you, eh?" "exactly," was his answer as his mouth relaxed into a smile. "a very strong attachment exists between the professor and myself. i am happy to believe, indeed, that i am one of his closest friends--at least, that is what he declared when i asked his permission to marry ethelwynn. perhaps as regards finance i am not all that he might desire," he said frankly. "i'm not by any means rich, mr. holford. in fact, i'm simply a hard-working business man, but i have a very generous and kind employer in sir albert oppenheim, and my position as his confidential secretary is one of great trust." "sir albert oppenheim!" i echoed. "why, he's supposed to be one of the wealthiest men in england!" "he probably is," laughed my friend. "every rich man, however, has enemies, and he is no exception. i've read and heard spoken many very unkind libels about him; but take it, from one who knows, that no man in all england performs more charitable work in secret than he." the name recalled several rumours i had heard, ugly rumours of dishonourable dealings in the city, where he was one of the greatest, shrewdest, and most powerful of modern financiers. i had grown to like leonard langton for his frankness. that he was devoted to the unfortunate girl was very plain, and naturally he was anxious and puzzled at her failure to be at home to receive him after an absence of a month in portugal, where he had, he told me, been engaged upon the purchase of the tramways of lisbon by an english syndicate formed by sir albert. he lived in chambers in wimpole street, with a great chum of his who was a doctor, and he invited me to look him up, while i began to tell him a little about myself, my motor business, and my friends. he was a motor enthusiast, i quickly found; therefore i, on my part, invited him to come down to chiswick and go out for a day's run on the "ninety." thus it occurred that, seated in that house of mystery, nay, in that very room where i had seen his well-beloved lying cold and dead, we became friends. ah! if i had but known one tithe of what that hastily-formed friendship was to cost me! but if the future were not hidden, surely there would be neither interest nor enjoyment in the present. suddenly, and without warning, i launched upon him the one question which had been ever uppermost in my mind during all the time we had sat together. "i have met on several occasions," i said, "a great friend of the professor's, a man you probably know--kirk--kershaw kirk." i watched his face as i uttered the words. but, quite contrary to my expectations, its expression was perfectly blank. the name brought no sign of recognition of the man to his eyes, which met mine unwaveringly. "kirk?" he repeated thoughtfully. "no, i've never met him--at least, not to my knowledge. was he young--or old?" "elderly, and evidently he is a very intimate friend of greer's." the young man shook his head. if he was denying any knowledge he possessed, then he was a most wonderful actor. perhaps kirk himself had lied to me! yet i remembered that towards him antonio had always been most humble and servile. i tried to discern any motive langton could have to disclaim knowledge of the mysterious kirk. but i failed to see any. as far as i could gather, my companion was not acquainted with the man whom i had so foolishly allowed to escape from the house. yet had not kirk himself expressed a fear at meeting him? had he not told me plainly that by mere mention of his name to that young man, all hope of solving the enigma would be at an end? perhaps, after all, i had acted very injudiciously in admitting my knowledge of kirk. for aught i knew my remarks might now have aroused further suspicion in his mind concerning myself. yet was not the temptation to put the question too great to be resisted? at my suggestion we again ascended the stairs, and re-entered the forbidden chamber. i gave as an excuse that i was curious to examine some of the delicate apparatus which the professor used in his experiments. my real reason, however, was again to examine those ashes before the furnace. circumstances, fortunately, favoured me, for almost as soon as we were inside the laboratory we heard the telephone bell ringing out upon the landing. "i wonder who's ringing up?" langton exclaimed quickly. "i'll go and see," and he hurried away to the study where i had noticed the instrument stood upon a small side-table near the window. the moment he had gone i bent swiftly and poked over the dust and ashes with my hand. yes! among them were several small pieces of cloth and linen only half-consumed, some scraps of clothing, together with a silver collar-stud, blackened by fire. i feared lest my companion should observe the unusual interest i was taking in the furnace-refuse, therefore i cleaned my hand quickly with my handkerchief and followed him. he had his ear to the telephone, still listening, when i entered the study. then he placed the receiver upon its hook, for the person with whom he had been conversing had evidently gone. turning, with his eyes fixed upon mine, he made in a few clear words an announcement which fell upon my ears like a thunderbolt. i believe i fell back as though i had been struck a blow. by that plain, simple declaration of his, the dark vista of doubt and mystery became instantly enlarged a thousand-fold. i stood staring blankly at the young man, absolutely refusing to believe my own ears. what he told me was beyond all credence. chapter eleven. the storm gathers. "i've just been speaking to ethelwynn," langton said. "she's down at broadstairs." "at broadstairs!" i echoed, staring straight at my companion. "yes," he replied. "she tells me that her father went up to edinburgh, but was suddenly called abroad upon business connected with one of his newly-patented chemical processes. she rang up antonio, intending to leave a message for me." i stood listening to him, utterly dumbfounded. the young man was being misled. had i not with my own eyes seen the poor girl lying cold and dead in the room downstairs? besides, was it possible that she, who knew of her father's fate and had seen him lifeless, would tell her lover that great untruth! could this be one of kirk's ingenious subterfuges in order to gain time? "then you are satisfied?" i managed at last to stammer. "to a certain degree, yes," he replied, looking at me with a good deal of surprise, i saw. "but it does not explain why antonio is absent abroad, or--" "gone to meet his master most probably," i interrupted. "perhaps. but why has the laboratory been broken open; and, again, why has the furnace been lit? who were the three persons who dined here this evening? the professor is away!" "miss ethelwynn might have entertained two friends before leaving for broadstairs," i suggested. "they were men. ethelwynn does not smoke cigarettes." "did she say whether she is returning to london?" i inquired. "she will let me know on the 'phone tomorrow." "she didn't tell you her father's whereabouts?" "she doesn't know. he's somewhere in germany, she believes. he has been in communication with a strong german syndicate, which it seems has been formed in hamburg to work one of his discoveries. and in his absence somebody has undoubtedly been prying into his experiments." "somebody who you believe was disturbed by your ring at the door, eh?" "exactly!" replied the young man, glancing at his watch. "but now, mr. holford, i think i shall go to my rooms. i'm tired after my journey. the channel crossing was an exceptionally bad one this afternoon. you'll call and see me very soon, won't you?" i promised, and together we descended the stairs and left the silent house. by his side i walked out by clarence gate as far as baker street station, where we shook hands and parted. after he had left me i halted on the kerb, utterly bewildered. it had dawned upon me that there was just a chance of discovering something further among the ashes of the furnace. the window, broken by the police, would afford an easy means of access. now, and only now, was my chance of obtaining knowledge of the actual truth. therefore i turned back again, and, loitering before the house, seized my chance when no one was nigh, opened the basement window and was again inside. in a few minutes i was again standing in the laboratory, over which the glowing furnace threw a red light. i dared not switch on the electricity, lest i should give warning to anybody watching outside, hence i was compelled to grope by the fitful firelight among the ashes. my examination--a long and careful one--resulted in the discovery of a metal cuff-link much discoloured by fire, a charred pearl shirt-button, and a piece of half-burned coloured linen. as far as i could ascertain there were no human remains--only traces of burnt clothing. but charred bones very much resemble cinders. yet were not those remains, in conjunction with the words of kershaw kirk, sufficient evidence of a grim and ghastly occurrence? i left the house by the window, just as i had entered it, and, walking as far as the marylebone road, entered a small private bar, where, being alone, i took out the scraps of half-burned paper and eagerly examined them. alas! most of the faint-ruled pages were blank. the others, however, were covered with a neat feminine calligraphy, the words, as far as i could decipher, having reference to certain chemical experiments of the professor's! those precious notes by ethelwynn at the professor's dictation had, it seemed clear, been wantonly destroyed. what could have been the motive? if that were found, it would surely not be difficult to discover the perpetrator of that most amazing crime. i returned home more than ever mystified, but carrying in my pocket a cabinet photograph of the dead man, which i had abstracted from a silver frame in his daughter's boudoir. it was theft, i knew, but was not theft justifiable in such unusual circumstances? next morning i was early at the garage in order to carry out a plan upon which i had decided during the grey hours before the dawn. in the telephone book i searched for, and found, the professor's number at his seaside cottage at broadstairs, and asked the exchange for it. in a quarter of an hour i was informed that i was "through." "is miss ethelwynn at home?" i inquired. "no; she's gone out for a walk," replied a feminine voice--that of a maid, evidently. "who are you, please?" "mr. kershaw kirk," i replied, for want of something better to say. "oh, mr. kirk!" exclaimed the woman. "is that you, sir? your voice sounds so different over the 'phone. miss ethelwynn left word that, if you rang up, i was to tell you that mr. langton is back, so you had better keep out of the way." "what does langton know?" i asked, quickly on the alert. "nothing yet; only be very careful. are you coming down here?" "i don't know," i replied. "i'll ring your mistress up later on to-day. is there any other message for me?" "no, my mistress said nothing else, sir." "very well," i said. "good morning!" and i rang off. that conversation created further doubts in my mind. here was a girl whom both kirk and myself had seen dead, yet she was still alive, and actually acting in conjunction with him to keep her father's death a secret! it was incomprehensible! what could it mean? pelham came to me with some questions concerning the business, but i only answered mechanically. i could think of nothing--only of the mysterious, inscrutable affair in sussex place. the mystery had possessed my soul. at eleven o'clock, suppressing all suspicion i held of kershaw kirk, i called at his house; but his sister showed me a telegram she had received soon after nine o'clock that morning. it had been handed in at charing cross station, and was to the effect that he was just leaving for the continent. another curious circumstance! he had gone to join that crafty-faced servant, antonio merli. now that leonard langton had returned, he evidently thought it wise to make himself scarce. and yet langton had calmly denied all knowledge of him! a little before five o'clock that afternoon, while sitting in my glass office in the garage, the man dick drake brought me a telegram. it had been handed in at the gare du nord, in paris, and was from kirk. his enigmatical words were: "recall all i told you. i thank you sincerely for helping me over a difficulty last night. shall rejoin you shortly. if questioned say nothing. all depends upon you. silence!" i read it through in wonder half a dozen times. i longed to ring up ethelwynn greer again. it would be a weird experience to converse with one whom i had seen dead. yet i could think of no excuse. kirk had, no doubt, telegraphed to her, for it seemed that their association was, after all, a very close one. the day's work ended, i got into a car and drove to the address in wimpole street given me by leonard langton. his chambers were particularly cosy and well-furnished; but his man, a young foreigner, told me that his master had left for broadstairs by the "granville" from victoria that afternoon. therefore i remounted in the car, and turned away down into oxford street, entirely nonplussed. i could not discern kirk's motive in exposing the tragic circumstances to me. i did not see in what way i could assist him, even though his version of the affair were the true one. who was this kershaw kirk? that was the main question. either he was a man of extraordinary power and influence, or else a most cunning and ingenious assassin. yet was there no suspicion upon antonio merli, the foreign servant, who seemed hand-in-glove with kirk? recollection of this caused me to turn the car towards the euston road and search along that long, busy thoroughfare for the tobacconist's shop kept by antonio's cadaverous-looking brother, pietro--the only outsider, apparently, aware of the professor's death. for fully half an hour i searched, until, near the tottenham court road end, i came across a little shop where stationery, newspapers, and tobacco were displayed in the window. entering, i asked the dark-eyed girl behind the small counter if mr. merli kept the establishment. "yes, sir, he does," was her reply. "can i see him?" "he's been suddenly called abroad, sir," answered the girl; "he left london this morning." "by what train?" "nine o'clock from charing cross." "do you happen to know a mr. kershaw kirk?" "yes; he was here last night to see him," replied the girl. "that's the only time i've ever met him." "when do you expect mr. merli back?" "oh, i don't know, sir! he's gone to italy, i expect; and when he goes there he's generally away for some weeks." "then he often goes abroad?" "yes, sir; very often. he has some business, i think, which takes him away travelling, and he leaves this shop in charge of my married sister and myself. he's not married, as i dare say you know." "he's seldom here, then?" i remarked, gratified at all this information. "he lives out at acton, and only comes here occasionally." "you know his brother, of course?" i asked, after i had purchased some cigarettes. "you mean mr. antonio? oh, yes; he's been here once or twice--for letters he has addressed here." "in another name--eh?" i laughed lightly. "yes, they're letters in a lady's hand, so perhaps we'd better not be too inquisitive," laughed the girl. and then, after some further conversation, i told her i would call again in a week's time to ascertain if she knew her employer's whereabouts, and, re-entering the car, drove back to chiswick, my mind clouded by many anxious apprehensions. the outlook was every moment growing darker and more perplexing. chapter twelve. a strange story unfolded. i confess to having been half-inclined, when i returned home that night, to take mabel into my confidence. but i hesitated, because i knew that her frankness and sense of justice would lead her to suggest that i should go to new scotland yard and lay the whole facts before the criminal investigation department. i had no secrets from her--i loved her far too well. but in this crooked affair i had most foolishly given my word of honour to say nothing. all kirk's strange declarations and allegations now recurred to me. hence i was compelled to abandon all idea of making mabel my confidante. i knew, however, by the way she looked at me, that she was troubled and puzzled by my manner. indeed, that evening when i returned and found her beside the fire in our cosy sitting-room, her slim fingers busy with some fancy needlework, i recognised by her pointed questions that she regarded me with considerable apprehension. again she asked me what was the matter, and again i replied evasively that i had just then a good many business worries. and we dropped the subject because gwen, her younger sister, entered the room. all next day i debated within myself what course i should now adopt, but, alas! i could not decide upon any. the whole affair was such an entire enigma. the more i had tried to probe the mystery, the more utterly inexplicable did it seem. reflect for a moment, and you will fully realise the peril of my position. to me, it seemed quite plain that i had by my readiness to accept kirk's friendship, given myself entirely into the hands of the conspirators. if kirk were truly an honest man and not afraid, he certainly would have called in the police. yet had he not openly admitted his inability to prove an alibi? that afternoon, a damp and dismal one, i had to run out on a car to tunbridge wells to see a customer who was purchasing the car which i drove. i took dick with me, and, the car being a "forty-eight," we sped along pretty swiftly until we halted before the entrance to that old-world promenade, the pantiles, near which my customer lived. before we got home again it was near midnight, but on that night drive i resolved that on the morrow i would embark upon the work of amateur detective, and endeavour to discover something on my own account. to solve such a complete enigma as that now presented one must, i realised, begin at the beginning. and that was what i intended to do. therefore, on the following night, at half-past eleven, i left king's cross in a sleeping-car for edinburgh, having first ascertained that the conductor was the same who had travelled by that train on the night of the professor's alleged journey. he was a tall, lean, fair-whiskered scot, whose uniform seemed too big for his shrunken frame, but who bustled up and down the corridor as soon as the train had started, inquiring of the passengers at what hour they would like to be called, and whether they would take tea. i waited until he came to my compartment, and then i put to him certain questions regarding his passengers on the night of sunday, the thirteenth, asking whether he remembered professor greer. "why, yes, sir," was his answer with a strong northern accent. "another gentleman asked me about the professor when i got back to king's cross." "did you take the professor up to edinburgh?" "certainly, sir. i remember the name. indeed, here it is in my book," and, turning back a few pages, he showed me the name among those who had secured sleeping berths in advance. "as i told the other gentleman who inquired, he wouldn't have any tea, and told me to call him at dunbar." "and when you called him did you then see him in his berth?" "yes, sir, he pulled the door back and inquired what kind of a morning it was." "where did he alight?" "at waverley, of course. i handed him out his bags, and one of the porters of the north british hotel took them." "you're quite certain of that?" "as certain as we're going north to-night, sir," replied the man. then i drew forth the professor's photograph from my pocket and showed it to him. "that's the same gentleman, and a very nice gentleman he was, too, sir," he declared, the instant his eyes fell upon it. "but for what reason do you ask this? you're the second person who has made inquiries." "only--well, only because the professor is a little eccentric," i replied diplomatically, "and we are rather anxious to know of his doings up in scotland. nearly all great men of genius," i added, "are slightly eccentric, you know." "well, he went to the north british," replied the conductor. "they'll be certain to recollect him there." "do you know the porter who took his bag?" "yes, it was walter macdonald. i'll call him when we get to waverley in the morning, and you can ask what questions you like." and the man left me and bustled away, while soon afterwards, as the great express began to gather speed towards hatfield, i turned into the narrow little bed, while we roared along through the dark night. when i drew aside the blind next morning we were skirting the grey misty sea, within sight of the bass rock. therefore i leisurely dressed, and, punctual to time, stepped out upon the long platform at edinburgh at half-past seven. at a whistle from the conductor, a smartly-uniformed hotel porter stepped up, and i explained, in a few brief words, the object of my visit to edinburgh. "i remember the gentleman quite well, sir," replied macdonald, after i had exhibited the photograph. "i took his suit-case and kit-bag and gave them over to the hall-porter. the gentleman did not engage a room, i think. but his first inquiry was for the telegraph-office, and i directed him to the general post office, which is almost next door here. that's about all i know of his movements." i gave the man a tip, and, ascending in the hotel lift, passed through the lounge and entered the big coffee-room which overlooks princes street, where i breakfasted. afterwards i lounged about the main hall which opens upon princes street--the entrance from the station being from deep below at the back of the premises. i saw that outside the reception office, upon a green baize-covered board and placed beneath tapes, telegrams for visitors were exhibited, and the addressees took them themselves. it would, therefore, be quite easy for anyone not staying in the hotel to have a telegram addressed there, and to receive it in secret. it would also be just as easy for a person to take anybody else's telegram that happened to be there. two young lady clerks were behind the brass grille, and presently i addressed the elder of the pair, and showed her the photograph. neither, however, recognised it. i turned up the visitors'-book, and saw that on monday the fourteenth no person of the name of greer had registered. "he was a chance customer, evidently," remarked the elder of the girls in neat black. "he arrived, you say, by the morning east coast express, therefore he may just have had breakfast and gone on. many people do that, and catch their connections for the north. in such a case we never see them. both myself and my friend here were on duty all day on monday." "i certainly have never seen the gentleman to my knowledge!" declared the other. "but he must, i think, have received two telegrams." "i remember one telegram, but i do not recollect the other. we have so many wires here in the course of the day, you know," the girl replied. "but what i do recollect is being rung up on the telephone from london on the following day, with an inquiry whether the gentleman was staying here." "you don't know who rang you up?" i asked. "i haven't any idea!" she laughed. "it may have been the police. they've done so before now." "of course he might have stayed here in another name and taken telegrams addressed to him as greer," i suggested. "i scarcely think so," replied the elder of the pair, a tall, smart, business-like woman. "if he had, one of us would, no doubt, have remembered him. i'd have a chat to the hall-porter at the station-entrance if i were you," she added. i therefore sought out the tall, liveried man she had indicated, and again to him exhibited the portrait. he remembered the professor quite distinctly, he told me. the visitor deposited in his charge a kit-bag and suit-case, remarking that he was not quite certain if he would remain the night, and passed on into the hotel. "that was about : in the morning." "when did you see him again?" "about noon, when he passed through to the lift, and descended into the station. i noticed that he was then wearing a different hat from the one he had on when he arrived from london," the hall-porter replied. "when did he take his luggage?" "about half-past three. a porter took it below, and it was placed in the cloak-room." "you didn't see him again?" "no, sir. he probably left by a later train that day." that was all the information i could gather in that quarter. the remainder of the morning i spent idling about princes street, that splendid thoroughfare which has few equals in the world, trying to decide upon my next course of action. i had exhausted edinburgh, it seemed, and clearly my way lay south again. suddenly, on re-entering the hotel to get lunch, a thought occurred to me, and i sought out the hair-dressing department, making inquiry of the man in charge, a fair-haired, well-spoken german. as soon as i showed him the portrait, he exclaimed: "ja! i recollect him--quite well." "tell me what you know of his movements," i urged. i saw that the man regarded me with considerable suspicion. "i presume, sir," he said, "that you are an agent of police?" "no, i'm not," i assured him, rather surprised at his remark. "i'm simply making inquiry because--well, because my friend is now missing." "then i'll tell you what occurred, sir," answered the german, with a slight accent. "the gentleman came in about four o'clock and asked me to shave him. when i began to put on the soap i realised, however, that he had himself been cutting off his beard closely. but i shaved him, and made no comment. we hairdressers are used to such things, yet they sometimes cause us a little wonder." "ah!" i cried. "then he left here with his beard shaven clean! he intended to disguise himself!" "no doubt, sir," replied the man, who seemed a particularly intelligent fellow. "because, earlier in the day, while crossing the corridor, i had noticed him standing near the lift. he then had a full beard. i recollected the clothes he was wearing." "did he talk to you?" "very little, sir. he seemed a gloomy, rather silent man." that was all he could tell me, though he declared that the gentleman had seemed very agitated and upset while he was being shaved. his hair was also cut, and his moustache trimmed. "did it alter his appearance much?" i inquired. "very greatly, sir. i should scarcely have known him when he left here." "and you told nobody?" "it is not my business to pry into customers' affairs," responded the man, and very justly; "but i took good note of his countenance." what he told me was certainly remarkable. the whole of the facts were, indeed, astounding. while the unfortunate professor lay dead in his laboratory in london he was, at the same time, here, in edinburgh, making an attempt at disguise, and sending a reassuring telegram to his daughter! that professor greer had been killed there was not the slightest doubt-- killed, too, behind locked doors, in circumstances which themselves formed a complete and inscrutable mystery. then, if so, who was this man who had left london with the professor's luggage, had arrived in edinburgh, and whom the hotel-servants and others had identified by his portrait? if he were not the professor, then who could he have been? one thing was certain, he could not have been the actual assassin. yet if not, why had he taken such pains to disguise his appearance? the theory of greer having a double i put aside at once. doubles only exist in the realms of fiction. here, however, i was dealing with hard, solid facts. each phase of the intricate problem became more and more complicated as i endeavoured to analyse it. that grey, wintry afternoon i wandered about the damp streets of edinburgh, gazing aimlessly in the shop windows, and afterwards sat for a full hour upon a seat in the deserted public gardens below the castle, thinking and wondering until the gloomy twilight began to creep on, and the lights along princes street commenced to glimmer. then, rising, i set off again across the north bridge, and through high street and johnstone terrace to the caledonian station, and by george street and st. andrew's street back to the waverley, a tour of the centre of the city. i was merely killing time, for i had decided to take the night express back to king's cross. when i re-entered the hotel it was nearly seven o'clock, and, as i did so, the porter at the revolving door in princes street touched his cap and informed me that the hairdresser desired to see me again. i ascended to the first floor, and entered the saloon, where i found the german with whom before luncheon i had spoken. he was seated alone, reading a newspaper. "ach, sir!" he exclaimed; "i thought perhaps you had left! i'm very glad you are still here! a most curious circumstance occurred this afternoon when i went off duty as usual from three till five. i live in forth street, at the back of the theatre royal, and while walking towards home along broughton street, i came face to face with the gentleman for whom you are searching." "you've seen him!" i gasped, half inclined to disbelieve the man's story, for he was evidently on the look-out for a substantial tip. "yes, he recognised me, and tried to avert his face. but i managed to get a good look at him, and am absolutely certain that i'm not mistaken. he was dressed differently, and looks many years younger than when i first saw him wearing his beard." "then he is still in hiding here!" i gasped quickly. "did you follow him?" "i did. i had to exercise considerable caution, for he evidently fears that he is being traced. his attitude was essentially that of a man dreading recognition. he may be suspicious that you are here, sir." "but have you discovered where he is living?" i demanded breathlessly, my heart leaping. "yes, sir," replied the german; "i have." chapter thirteen. i learn something interesting. ten minutes later i was with the german hairdresser on a tram-car, going up regent road, towards abbey hill. on turning into the london road at the station, we descended, and, crossing the main thoroughfare, entered one of the narrow, ill-lit turnings on the left, the name of which i was unable to see. "i don't know whom to ask for," i remarked to my companion, as we hurried along together. "i can only point you out the house where your friend is in hiding," replied the man. "you, of course, know more of his habits than i do." in a few moments we passed before a tall, drab, dingy-looking house, which the german pointed out was the false professor's secret abode. i longed for the presence of kershaw kirk, for i knew not how to act. i reflected, however, that the reason of my journey to edinburgh was to clear up the mystery, and this thought prompted me to action. so while he waited in the semi-darkness at the next corner, i returned to the house and rang the bell. to the door came a rather dishevelled girl of about eighteen, evidently the daughter of the occupier. "you have a gentleman living here," i said. "would you kindly tell him that mr. kirk desires to see him?" "the gentleman's no longer here, sir," replied the girl, in broad scotch. "gone!" i ejaculated. "yes, sir. mr. martin's who you mean, i suppose, for he's the only gentleman mother has had. he packed his things, and left for the station an hour ago." my heart fell. he had evidently realised that the german was following him, and had escaped us! "can i see your mother?" i asked. whereupon i was invited into the small narrow hall of the musty-smelling house, and a thin-faced, angular woman in rusty black came forward. "pray pardon my troubling you," i said apologetically, "but i have an urgent message to give to mr. martin, who, i understand, has been staying with you." it was an advantage that the girl had unwittingly betrayed the name which the false professor had adopted. "mr. martin's gone, sir. he left this evening." "so your daughter tells me. but haven't you any idea where he intended going?" the woman hesitated, and by that slight pause i felt convinced she knew something which she intended keeping to herself. "no, sir, he left quite suddenly," was her hurried reply. "he had been out all day, and, returning about five, packed up his things, paid me what he owed me, together with a week's rent in lieu of notice, and, getting a cab, drove away." "to the station--eh?" "yes, i heard him tell the man to drive to princes street." "he hadn't been very long with you, had he?" "about a week. he came on the monday, telling me that he had been recommended by a friend of his, an actor. i let rooms to professionals," she added, in explanation. "he is a very reticent man," i remarked. "i suppose he seldom went out?" "no; he used to read all day, and go for just half-an-hour's stroll at night. he struck me as a rather eccentric man." "so he is," i laughed. "i'm an old friend of his, so, of course, i know. i hope he is not in your debt. if so, please tell me and i'll liquidate it." "oh, not at all, sir. he's paid for everything," declared the woman, upon whom my ready offer to pay her lodger's debts had evidently made an impression. "his sudden departure mystified us." "did he receive many letters?" "only two--and a telegram you sent him--which i found dropped by the side of his dressing-table." "from me?" i echoed, yet next instant recollecting that i had given my name as kirk. "yes, you telegraphed to him several days ago to meet you at the caledonian hotel in glasgow. you are mr. kirk, are you not?" "ah, of course, i recollect," i laughed. "do you think he's gone to glasgow?" i asked, as the sudden thought occurred to me. "well, sir," replied the woman, "as you are such an intimate friend of mr. martin's, i think i ought to tell you that, before leaving to-night, he asked me in confidence to repeat any telegram that might come for him to the caledonian in glasgow, but asking me at the same time to give no information to anyone who might call and make inquiries as to his whereabouts." "then he's gone to glasgow to-night!" i exclaimed, with sudden enthusiasm. "if i follow at once, i may find him!" "i certainly think so, sir," was the woman's response, whereupon i made a hurried adieu, and, rejoining the german, into whose palm i slipped a sovereign, was quickly back at the hotel. i left princes street station at ten minutes to ten that night by the express due in glasgow at eleven. that hour's journey was full of excitement, for i was now upon the heels of the false professor, whose whereabouts and assumed name kirk knew, and with whom he had made an appointment. was this man, known as martin, about to meet kirk? i laughed within myself when i reflected upon the awkward surprise which my presence there would give them. what the lodging-house keeper had told me proved conclusively that kershaw kirk had conspired to cause the death of poor greer, and that the story he had told me was untrue. yet, again, there arose in my mind the problem why, if he were the assassin, or an accomplice of the assassin, should he introduce me into that house of death--myself a comparative stranger! alone i sat in the corner of the railway carriage, thinking it all over, and trying, as i had so continuously tried, to discern light in the darkness. i had been a fool--a confounded fool, not to inform the police of my suspicions at the outset. the girl ethelwynn, whom i had seen lying apparently dead, whose chill flesh i had touched, was alive and well at broadstairs! was not that, in itself, a staggering mystery, exclusive of that secret visit of kirk's to foley street, and the woman's cry in that foggy night? was it any wonder, then, that i was neglecting my business, leaving all to pelham, with whom i had communicated by telegram several times? was it any wonder that, the circumstances being of so uncanny and intricate a nature, i hesitated to tell mabel, my wife, lest i should draw her into that web of doubt, uncertainty, and grim tragedy? i had watched the columns of the _times_ each day to discover the advertised message promised by kirk; but there had been none. i now saw how i had been as wax in the hands of that clever, smooth-spoken cosmopolitan. i believed in men's honesty, a most foolish confidence in these degenerate days, when morality is sneered at, and honesty is declared openly to be "the worst policy." alas! in this dear old england of ours truth and justice are to-day rapidly disappearing. now that mammon rules, that divorce is a means of notoriety, and that charity begins abroad with mansion house funds for undeserving foreigners, while our starving unemployed clamour in their thousands for bread, the old order of things has, alas! changed. the honest man--though, be it said, there are still honest, sterling men in business and out of it--goes to the wall and is dubbed a fool; while the master-thief, the smug swindler, the sweater, and the promoter of bogus companies may pay his money and obtain his baronetcy, or his seat in the house of lords, and thus hall-mark himself with respectability. while money talks, morality is an absent factor in life, and truth is but a travesty. glance only at the list of subscribers to a mansion house fund, the very basis of which is the desire of the lord mayor who may happen to be in office to get his baronetcy, while its supporters are in the main part self-advertisers, or donations are given in order to establish an unstable confidence and extend a false credit. thus, even in our charities, we have become humbugs, because the worship of the golden calf has bred cant, hypocrisy, and blatant self-confidence, which must ere long be the cause of our beloved country's downfall beneath the iron-heel of far-seeing, business-like germany. such reflections as these ran through my mind as that night i sat in the train watching the lights as we neared the great industrial centre on the clyde. i was trying to peer into the future, but i only saw before me a misty horizon of unutterable despair. i longed to meet ethelwynn greer, and put to her certain questions. was it not a complete enigma, startling and inscrutable, that she, having seen her beloved father lying lifeless, should utter no word--even to young langton, to whom she was evidently devoted? that fact was utterly incomprehensible. at last the train slowed and drew into the great echoing station. on alighting i gave my bag to a porter and entered the big caledonian hotel adjoining. i had stayed there on previous occasions, and knew its huge dining-room, its long corridors, and its wide ramifications. i registered in the name of lamb, deeming it best to conceal my presence, and while writing in the book, scanned the page for martin's name. it was not, however, there. i turned back to earlier arrivals that day, but with no better result. so i ascended in the lift to my room on the second floor. of course, it was quite within the bounds of possibility that the false professor might use yet another name if he wished to avoid being followed from edinburgh. besides, i had noticed that just as at the north british at edinburgh, so here, telegrams were exhibited upon a board, and could be taken. therefore, if a wire came in the name of martin, he could quite easily claim it. after a wash i wandered about the hotel, through the lounge, smoking-room, and the other of the public apartments. yet how could i recognise a man who was disguised, and whom i had never seen? i was placed at a disadvantage from the very first by never having met this man who had posed as the dead professor. yet with the knowledge that kirk desired particularly to see him, i felt that there was a probability of their meeting, and that, if only i remained wary and watchful, i should come across, amid the hundreds of persons staying there, the mysterious dweller in bedford park. from my arrival at eleven till half-past one i remained on the alert, but saw no one i knew. therefore i retired to bed, thoroughly worn-out by that constant vigil. yet i was in no way disheartened. the false professor had started from edinburgh for that destination, and was, i felt confident, staying there under another name. it only lay with me to unmask him, or to wait until the pair met clandestinely, and then to demand to know the truth. surely in all the annals of crime there had never been one so surrounded by complex circumstances as the tragedy of sussex place, and assuredly, too, no innocent man had been more ingeniously misled than my unfortunate self. next day, from eight o'clock in the morning till late at night, i idled about the big hotel, ever anxious and ever watchful. i kept an eye upon each arrival and each departure. then i became slowly and against my will, convinced that the false professor had not come to that hotel, but had put up somewhere else, well knowing that he could obtain the telegraphic message from kirk whenever he cared to step in and take it from the board. again, even though at the heels of the conspirators, was i yet being outwitted--a fact which became the more impressed upon me on the third day of my futile expectancy. hourly i watched that telegraph-board, intending to annex quietly any message addressed to martin, and act upon any appointment it contained. but, alas! my watchfulness remained unrewarded. twice there had arrived men slightly resembling the dead professor, clean-shaven and active, but by careful observation i discovered that one was a commercial traveller whose samples had been left below in the station, and the other was a well-known iron merchant of walsall. the false professor, the man who was plainly in association with the mysterious kirk, was clearly in glasgow, yet how was it possible for me to do more than i was doing towards his unmasking? put to yourself that problem, you, my friend, for whom i have chronicled this plain, unvarnished story of what actually occurred to me in the year of grace , and inquire of yourself its solution. "who killed professor greer?" chapter fourteen. a remarkable truth. the morning was cold, with fine driving rain, when at eight o'clock i alighted from a hansom before my own house in bath road, and entered with my latch-key. in the dining-room i found annie, the housemaid, in the act of lighting the fire, but turning suddenly upon me with surprise, she exclaimed: "oh, sir! you gave me quite a turn! we didn't expect to see you back again just yet." "why not?" i inquired, with some surprise. "we thought you were with the mistress, sir." "with my wife. what do you mean?" "mrs. holford obeyed your telegram, sir, and has left for italy." "for italy!" i gasped. "where's miss gwen? go and ask her if she can see me at once." and i followed the maid upstairs. in a few moments gwen raeburn, my wife's sister, a young, pretty, dark girl of seventeen, who wore a big black bow in her hair, came out of her room wrapped in a blue kimono. "why, harry!" she cried. "what's the matter? i thought mabel had gone to join you." "i've just come down from glasgow, where i've been on business," i explained. "where is mabel?" "i don't know, except that i saw her off from victoria at eleven the day before yesterday." "but why has she gone?" "to meet you," replied the girl. "the morning before last, at a few minutes past eight, she received a telegram signed by you, urging her to meet you at the hotel grande bretagne in florence at the earliest possible moment. therefore she obeyed it at once, and left by the eleven o'clock train. it was a terrible rush to get her off, i can tell you. but haven't you been in florence?" "no, i've been in scotland," i repeated. "did you read the telegram she received?" "yes; it was very brief, but to the point. mabel was annoyed that you had not told her the reason you had gone abroad without explanation. she feared that, in view of your preoccupied manner of late, something disastrous had happened to you. that's why she left so hurriedly. i wanted to go with her, but she wouldn't allow me." "i wish you had gone, gwen," i said. "there's some plot here--some deep and treacherous conspiracy." "why, what has happened?" "a lot has happened," i said. "you shall know it all later on. at present i haven't time to explain. i suppose the telegram isn't left about anywhere?" "mabel took it with her." "you didn't notice whence it had been despatched?" i asked. "from turin. we concluded that you had halted there, on your way from paris." i was silent. what plot had those blackguards formed against me and mine! why had my dear wife mabel been decoyed out to italy by them? i grew apprehensive and furious. my sister-in-law descended with me to the dining-room. she saw my agitation, and after the first surprise had worn off tried to calm me. "there's a perfectly feasible explanation, i'm sure, harry," she said. "perhaps it is some practical joke being played upon you and mabel by your friends. they want you out in the south for a week or two to escape from the cold and wet of the london spring. i wouldn't worry, if i were you." "ah, gwen!" i sighed. "you are unaware of all the grim circumstances," i said. "there's a serious conspiracy here, i'm convinced. the hand of a secret enemy has been lifted against me." had that crafty servant at sussex place dispatched the false message, i wondered? or was it kirk himself? and if so, with what motive? was mabel, my beloved and devoted wife, to fall helplessly into their unscrupulous hands? my blood rose within me when i reflected how innocently i had walked into the trap which my mysterious neighbour had prepared for me. i took up a bradshaw, and saw that if i left charing cross by the boat train at : i might, by good chance, catch the night mail for italy by the mont cenis from the gare de lyon. i could only do it if we ran into the gare du nord in time. but from experience i knew that the afternoon service to paris was pretty punctual, and one usually arrived in the french capital about : . then, by the aid of a taxi-cab, i could get across to the lyons station in time. so i decided to make the attempt. i had been in italy several times when a youth, and knew italian fairly well. my father, before the smash in his fortunes, had rented a villa for several years up at vallombrosa, in the chestnut-clad mountains above florence. "may i come with you, harry?" pleaded my sister-in-law. "if mabel is in any danger it is only right that you should take me to her." i knew how devoted the girl was to her sister. a year ago she had come to us from caen, where she had been at school, and among the languages in which she was proficient was italian. i hardly cared, in the circumstances, to leave her alone; therefore, although a big hole must be made in my slender bank account, i resolved to take a second ticket for her. when i announced my decision her dark eyes sparkled with delight, and she clapped her hands. "you are a real good brother, harry!" she cried. "i don't want any breakfast. i'll go and begin to pack at once. i've never been in italy, you know." i told her that in the circumstances of the rush we must make across paris i could only allow her hand-luggage, and she sped away upstairs to put on her frock and to commence placing her necessaries together. afterwards, greatly agitated and full of dark apprehension, i got on, by telephone, to the wagon-lit office in pall mall, and reserved berths for us both on the rome express from paris as far as pisa, where i knew we would be compelled to change. then i addressed a long telegram to mabel at the hotel grande bretagne, on the lung' arno, at florence, explaining that she was the victim of a bogus message, but that we were rejoining her at once, in order to bring her home. i judged that she must already have arrived in florence, but unfortunately there would be no time to receive a reply ere we left london. having despatched the message, i went round to the garage, and, telling pelham of my sudden call abroad, gave him certain instructions, drew a cheque for wages, and otherwise left things in order. then i called upon miss kirk, but she denied all knowledge of her brother's whereabouts. the _times_, which i had just bought in the high road, chiswick, contained no advertised message from him. nor did i expect any. my intention now was one of bitter retaliation. i had been befooled by the man who i had proved held secret knowledge of the mode of the poor professor's tragic end. by this message to my wife someone had touched my honour, and i intended that he should dearly pay for it. gwen, girl-like, was all excitement at the prospect of this flying journey to the south. at one moment she endeavoured to reassure me that nothing was wrong, while at the next she expressed wonder at the motive of the mysterious message. at last, however, we found ourselves seated in the corners of a first-class carriage, slowly crossing the thames on the first stage of our dash to italy. the outlook was grey and cheerless, precursory, indeed, of a dismal conclusion to our journey to the far-off land of sunshine. we got out at folkestone harbour, however, well to time, and that evening were fortunately only seven minutes late in arriving at the gare du nord. we had dined in the train, so, therefore, entering a taxi-cab, we were soon whirled across paris to the gare de lyon, where we had only eight minutes to spare before the departure of the _rapide_ for rome. all that night, as i lay alone in my sleeping-berth while the great express rocked and rolled on its way to the alpine frontier, my mind was full of gravest apprehensions. gwen had been given a berth with another lady at the further end of the car, and i had already seen that she was comfortable for the night. then i had turned in to spend those long dreary hours in wakeful fear. i could discern no motive for inveigling my wife--with whom kirk had never spoken--to a destination abroad. yet one curious point was quite plain. that mysterious dweller in bath road--the man with the pet parrot--was well aware of my absence in the north. otherwise he would not have forged my name to a message sent from turin. for what reason could he desire mabel's presence in florence? he must have some object in her absence. perhaps he foresaw that her absence meant also my absence--and that my enforced journey meant a relaxation of the vigil i had established upon the man who had gone north on the night of the professor's assassination. that was the only feasible theory i could form, and i accepted it for want of any better. but in what a whirlwind of doubt and fear, of dark apprehensions and breathless anxiety i now existed you may well imagine. gwen, looking fresh and bright and smart in her blue serge gown, came to me next morning, and we had our coffee together at a wayside station. though we sat together through the morning hours until we stopped at the frontier at modane, she refrained from referring to the reason of mabel's call abroad. the young girl was devoted to her sister, yet she did not wish to pain or cause me any more anxiety than was necessary. after passing through the great tunnel, emerging on the italian side and coming to turin, where we waited an hour, the journey became uneventful through the afternoon and evening until the great bare station of pisa was reached, shortly before midnight. here we exchanged into a very cold and very slow train which, winding its way in the moonlight through the beautiful arno valley all the night, halted at the florence terminus early in the glorious italian morning. "_fi-renze! fi-renze_!" cried the sleepy porters; and we alighted with only about half a dozen other passengers who had travelled by that _treno lumaca_--or snail-train, as the tuscans justly call it. then, taking one of those little open cabs so beloved by the florentines, we drove at once to the well-known hotel which faces the arno, close to the ponte vecchio. florence, in the silence of early morning, looked delightful, her old churches and ponderous palaces standing out sharply against the clear, blue sky, while, as we passed a side street we caught sight, at the end of the vista, of the wonderful black-and-white facade of the duomo, of giotto's campanile, and brunelleschi's wondrous red-tiled dome. a few moments later we stepped from the cab and entered the wide, marble-floored hall of the hotel. "you have a mrs. holford staying here?" i asked in english of the manager, who was already in his bureau. "hol-ford," he repeated, consulting the big frame of names and numbers before him. "ah, yes, sir; i remember! but--" he hesitated, and then inquired, "will you pardon me if i ask who you may be?" "i'm henry holford, madame's husband," i replied promptly. and then the man told us something which caused us to stare at each other in speechless amazement. the man was a liar--and i told him so openly to his face. his astounding words rendered the remarkable enigma more complex than ever! chapter fifteen. a man deceives a woman. the story told me by the bald-headed italian hotel-keeper was that another man had usurped my place! he said that mrs. holford, accompanied by her husband, had arrived at about seven o'clock on the morning of the day before yesterday, remained there the day, and had left by the express for rome at five o'clock that same evening. "you don't believe it, sir!" the man exclaimed with some warmth. "well, here is the gentleman's signature!" and he showed me upon a printed slip, whereon hotel visitors in italy write their names according to the police regulations, boldly inscribed in a firm hand, "mr. and mrs. henry holford. profession, automobile engineer. domicile, london. british subject." i stared at the words utterly confounded. somebody had assumed my identity! yet how was that possible with mabel present? "what kind of man was madame's husband?" i inquired, while my sister-in-law stood by astounded. "he was slightly older than yourself, sir, with a moustache turning grey." surely it could not be that arch-scoundrel kershaw kirk! "was he about fifty, and rather thin?" "yes," replied the _hotelier_. "he spoke italian very well; indeed, with scarcely any accent." my suspicion at once fell upon kirk. yet how could he so impose upon mabel as to be allowed to pass as her husband? she had never before spoken to the fellow, and had, i knew, held him in instinctive dislike. "they were out all yesterday morning driving up to fiesole," he added. "you don't happen to know to which hotel they've gone in rome?" i asked. "no. there is a telegram here for madame. it arrived half an hour after their departure. they would leave no word with the hall-porter regarding the forwarding of letters." "i am her husband," i said, "and that telegram is evidently mine, which has been delayed in transmission, as messages so often are in this country. as her husband, i have a right to open it, i suppose." "i regret, sir, that i cannot allow that," said the man. "you have given me no proof that you are madame's husband." "but i am!" i cried. "this lady here is my wife's sister, and will tell you." "yes," declared the girl, "this is harry, my brother-in-law. the other man, whoever he may be, is an impostor." the short, bald-headed italian in his long frock-coat, grew puzzled. he was faced by a problem. therefore, after some further declarations on my part, he handed me the message, and i found, as i had expected, it was my own, which, unfortunately, had never reached her to reassure her. of course, i was not certain that mabel's companion was actually kirk. indeed, as i reflected, i grew to doubt whether she would accept any word he told her as the truth. yet whatever the story related about myself to her it must be a strange and dramatic one, that it should induce her to travel across europe in company with a stranger. i had never had the slightest reason to doubt mabel's fidelity. she had always been a good, honest and true wife to me, and our strong affection was mutual. indeed, few men and women led more blissful, even lives than we had done. thoroughly understanding each other's temperaments, we were content in each other's affection. no, even though this man might tell me this astounding story, i refused to give it credence. the grey-moustached stranger, whoever he might be, was a scoundrel bent upon entrapping my wife, and had done so by relating some fictitious story about myself. this theory i expounded to her young sister gwen as we sat at our coffee half an hour later. we had resolved to rest until eleven, when an express left for rome. i intended to follow her and rescue her from the hands of those who were most certainly conspirators. more mystified than ever, we therefore travelled south to the eternal city, arriving there in the early hours of the next morning, and going to the grand hotel, which was full to overflowing, the roman season having already commenced. to find my beloved wife was now my sole aim. i thought naught of the startling mystery of sussex place, or of the strange identity of the false professor. i had abandoned the inquiry in order to recover from peril the woman i loved so dearly. the young girl, my companion, was; beside herself with fear, dreading what had occurred; while i myself became more and more puzzled as to the motive for inveigling mabel abroad. she had not the slightest connection with the secret tragedy; she was, indeed, in ignorance of it all. for what reason, therefore, was she being misled, and why, oh, why, did she allow this perfect stranger to pose as myself? i hardly slept at all that night, having searched all the published visitors' lists in vain, and as early as seven o'clock next morning i started upon a tour of the hotels to make personal inquiry. at the russia, the modern, the continental, the milan, and other well-known houses of that class i conned the names of the visitors for my own, but though i was occupied the whole day upon the task, snatching a hasty luncheon at a little _trattoria_ i knew just behind the ministry of posts and telegraphs, all was, alas! in vain. part of the time mabel's sister was with me, until she grew tired, and returned alone to the hotel in a cab. earlier in the day i had telegraphed to pelham to inquire whether mabel had sent me any message at home, but the reply came that neither telegram nor letter had been received. though there seemed no connection whatever between the tragedy in sussex place and my wife's flight, yet i could not help suspecting that there was, and that my apparent abandonment was due to the subtle, satanic influence of my mysterious neighbour. i was now all the more anxious to condemn him to the police. the remains of the poor professor had been cremated in his own furnace, and by the blackguardly hands of the assassin. yet, before i could raise the finger of denunciation, i had to discover the fellow's whereabouts, and this seemed a task impossible to accomplish. i had kept my eye upon the _times_ daily in the course of my quick journeys during that most eventful week, but no advertisement had appeared. next day, and the next, i spent alternately searching the hotels and idling in the corso, on the pincian, among the tourists in the forum, or in the broad piazza colonna, the hub of roman life. among the hosts of foreigners who walked and drove in the corso at the hour of the _passeggiata_, my eyes, and those of my bright little companion, were ever eager to find my dear wife's handsome face. but we saw her not. she and the man posing as myself had entirely and completely disappeared. i sought counsel of the questore, or chief of police, who, on hearing that i was in search of my wife, ordered the register of foreigners in rome to be searched. but two days later he informed me with regret that the name of holford did not appear. in face of that my only conclusion was that, after leaving florence, they had suddenly changed the course of their flight. their flight! why had mabel fled from me, after speeding so swiftly to meet me? ay, that was the crucial question. late one afternoon i was standing upon the pincian, leaning upon the balustrade of that popular promenade of the romans, and watching the crowd of winter idlers who, in carriage and afoot, were taking the fresh, bright air. i had been there every day, hoping against hope either to recognise mabel or the man kirk among the crowd of wealthy cosmopolitans who thronged the hillside. before me moved the slow procession of all sorts and conditions of carriages, from the gaudily-coloured, smart motor-car of the young italian elegant to the funereal carozza of the seedy marchesa, or the humble vettura of the tweed-skirted "cookite." behind showed the soft grey rose of the glorious afterglow with the red roofs, tall towers and domes of the eternal city lying deep below. against the sky stood the tall cypresses--high, gloomy, sombre--and over all spread that light film of mist that rises from old tiber when the dusk is gathering. the scene was, perhaps, one of the most picturesque in all italy, even surpassing that from the piazza michelangelo in firenze, but to me, hipped and bewildered as i was, the chatter in a dozen tongues about me was irritating; and i turned my back upon the crowd, leaning my elbows upon the stone parapet, and gazing over the gay, light-hearted capital whence at that moment came up the jangling of bells started by the great bell at st. peter's and echoing from every church tower, the solemn call to evening prayer that is, alas! ever unheeded. in modern italy only the peasant is pious; in the _alto mondo_ religion is unfashionable. perhaps you have driven in the corso, that narrow and most disappointing of thoroughfares, gossiped in the english tea-shop at five o'clock, taken your vermouth and bitters in the aregno, and climbed the pincian to see the sunset. if you have, then you know that life, you recognise amid that crowd faces of both sexes that you have seen at aix, at vichy, at carlsbad, at ostend, or in the rooms at monte carlo, many of them vicious, sin-hardened faces, careless, indolent, blase; few, alas! with the freshness of youth or the open look indicated by pure-mindedness. on the pincian you have the light-hearted thoughtless world which exists only to be amused, the world which laughs at grim poverty because it obtains its wherewithal from the labours of those poor, underpaid and sweated millions in other countries who must work in order that these few favoured ones may indulge in their extravagances. sick to death, disappointed, worn out by a continual vigilance and with a deep anxiety gnawing ever at my heart-strings, i had turned from the scene, and was gazing across into the rose-tinted mists, when of a sudden i heard a voice at my elbow, exclaiming in broken english: "why, surely it's the signor holford!" i turned quickly, and to my amazement found myself confronted by the thin, sinister face of the dead professor's servant, antonio merli. chapter sixteen. antonio speaks plainly. "you, antonio!" i gasped, staring at the fellow who, dressed in a dark grey suit and soft black felt hat, presented an appearance of ultra-respectability. "yes, signore, i am very surprised to find you here--in rome," he replied. "come," i said abruptly, "tell me what has occurred. why did you leave london so hurriedly?" "i had some family affairs to attend to," he answered. "i had to go to my home at lucca to arrange for the future of my two nephews whose father is just dead. pietro joined me there." "and you were joined also by mr. kirk?" i said. "ah, no, signore!" protested the thin-faced italian with an emphatic gesture. "i have not seen him since i left london." "are you quite certain of that, antonio?" i asked slowly, in disbelief, as i looked straight into his face. "quite. i know that he came abroad, but have no idea of his present whereabouts." "now tell me, antonio," i urged, "who and what is mr. kirk?" the italian shrugged his shoulders, answering: "ah, signore, you had better not ask. he is a mystery to me--as to you, and as he was to my poor master." "he killed your master--eh?" i suggested. "now tell me the truth--once and for all." "i do not know," was his quick reply, with a strange flash in his dark eyes. "if he did, then i have no knowledge of it. i slept on the top floor, and heard nothing." "who was the man who went to edinburgh on the night of the tragedy?" "ah! _dio mio_! do not reopen all that puzzle!" he protested. "i am just as mystified as you yourself, signore." i looked straight in the man's face, wondering if he were speaking the truth. his hard, deep-lined countenance was difficult to read. the italian is such a born diplomatist that his face seldom betrays his thoughts. he can smile upon you sweetly, even though behind his back he grips a dagger ready to strike you to the heart. and so old antonio's face was sphinx-like, as all his race. "you saw leonard langton at calais," i remarked. "he told you that!" gasped the dead man's servant, with a start. "what did he say of me?" "nothing, except what was good. he told me that you were a trusted servant of the professor." "ah, my poor, dear master!" echoed the man, his face turned thoughtfully away towards the afterglow. "if i knew--ah, _madonna mia_, if i only knew the truth!" "you suspect kirk?" i suggested. "why not tell me more?" "i suspect him no more than i suspect others," was his calm reply. "be certain, signore, that there is much more behind that terrible affair than you suspect. there was some strong motive for my poor master's death, depend upon it! but," he asked, "where did you meet the signor langton?" briefly i related the circumstances of kirk's presence in the house, his escape, and the discovery i afterwards made in the laboratory. "you actually found the evidences of the crime had been destroyed!" cried the man. yet my sharp vigilance detected that beneath his surprise he breathed more freely when i announced the fact that the body of the professor was no longer existent. "yes," i said, after a slight pause, during which my eyes were fixed upon his. "destroyed--and by kershaw kirk, whom i found alone there, with the furnace burning." the italian shook his head blankly. whether he held suspicion of kirk or not i was unable to determine. they had been friends. that i well knew. but to me it appeared as though they had met in secret after the tragedy, and had quarrelled. i told the man nothing of my journey to scotland or of the puzzling discoveries i had made; but in reply to his repeated questioning as to why i was in rome i explained that i was in search of my wife, telling him of the unaccountable manner in which she had been called away from london by means of the forged telegram. "and you say that the signora knew nothing of the affair at sussex place?" "nothing, antonio. it was not a matter to mention to a woman." "you suspect kirk, of course, because his description is very like the man described as being with her in florence. what motive could he have in enticing her away from you?" "a sinister one, without a doubt," i said. "but, antonio, i beg of you to tell me more concerning that man kirk. you have known him for a long time--eh?" "four years, perhaps. he was a frequent visitor at the professor's, but young langton hated him. i once overheard miss ethelwynn's lover telling her father some extraordinary story concerning kirk. but the professor declined to listen; he trusted his friend implicitly." "and foolishly so," i remarked. "very, for since that i gained knowledge that kirk, rather than being my master's friend, was his bitterest enemy. miss ethelwynn was the first to discover it. she has been devoted to her father ever since the death of the poor signora." "but how do you account for that remarkable occurrence behind those locked doors?" i asked, as we stood there in the corner, with the gay chatter of the society of rome about us; an incongruous situation, surely. "what is your theory?" "ah, signore, i have none," he declared emphatically. "how can i have? it is a complete mystery." "yes; one equally extraordinary is the fact that miss ethelwynn, who was seen by us dead and cold, is yet still alive." "alive!" he gasped, with a quick start which showed me that his surprise was genuine. "i--i really cannot believe you, signor holford! what proof have you? why, both you and kirk declared that she was dead!" "the proof i have is quite conclusive. leonard langton spoke to her on the telephone to broadstairs, and he is now down there with her." "impossible, signore!" declared the man, shaking his head dubiously. "when did you last see her?" "she was lying on the couch in the diningroom, as you saw, but at kirk's orders she was removed from the house in a four-wheeled cab. i explained to the cabman that she was unwell, as she had unfortunately taken too much wine. some man--a friend of kirk's--went with her." "and what was their destination?" i demanded. "ah, signore, i do not know." "now, antonio, please do not lie," i said reproachfully. "you know quite well that your master's daughter was removed to a certain house in foley street, tottenham court road." "why," he exclaimed, turning slightly pale, and staring at me, "how did you know that?" i laughed, refusing to satisfy his curiosity. in his excitement his accent had become more marked. "well," he said at last, "what does it matter if the signorina is still alive, as you say? for my own part, i refuse to believe it until i see her in the flesh with my own eyes." "well," i remarked, "all this is beside the mark, antonio. i have understood from everyone that you were the devoted and trusted servant of professor greer, therefore you surely, as a man of honour, should endeavour to assist in clearing up the mystery, and bringing the real assassin to justice." the man sighed, saying: "i fear, signore, that will never be accomplished. the mystery has ramifications so wide that one cannot untangle its threads. but," he added, after a slight pause, "would you object to telling me how you first became acquainted with signor kirk?" deeming it best to humour this man, who undoubtedly possessed certain secret knowledge, i briefly described the means by which kirk had sought my friendship. and as i did so, i could see the slight smile at the corner of his tightened lips, a smile of satisfaction, it seemed, at the ingenious manner in which i had been misled by his friend. "then he brought you to sussex place on purpose to show you the dead body of my master?" "he did. i had no desire to be mixed up in any such affair, only he begged me to stand his friend, at the same time protesting his innocence." "his innocence!" exclaimed the italian fiercely between his clenched teeth. "you believe him guilty, then?" i cried, quick to notice his lapse of attitude. "ah, no, signore," he responded, recovering himself the next second, a bland smile overspreading his dark, complex countenance. "you misunderstand me; i suspect nobody." "but you had a more intimate knowledge of the household, and of the professor's friends, than anyone else. therefore you, surely, have your own suspicions?" "no; until one point of the mystery, which has apparently never occurred to you, has been cleared up, both you and i can only remain in ignorance, as we are at present." "why not be quite frank with me, antonio?" i urged. "i do not believe you are your master's assassin; i will never believe that! but you are not open with me. put yourself in my place. i have been entrapped by kirk into a network of mystery and tragedy, and have lost my wife, who, i fear, is in the hands of conspirators. i have not been to the police, because kirk urged me not to seek their aid. so--" "no, signore," he interrupted quickly, "do not tell the police anything. it would be injudicious--fatal!" "ah!" i cried, "then you are acting in conjunction with kirk? you, too, are trying to mislead me!" "i am not, signore," he protested. "on the tomb of my mother," he declared, making use of the common italian oath, "i am only acting in your interests. the disappearance of your signora adds mystery to the affair." "what do you suggest as my next move? if i find mabel, i care nothing. the tragic affair may remain a mystery for ever. i leave it to others to discover who killed professor greer." "you actually mean that, signore?" he cried. "you would really refrain from seeking further, providing you rediscover your wife?" i was silent a few seconds. his eagerness was sufficient admission of a guilty conscience. "yes," i said. "what matter the affairs of others, so long as the wife i love is innocent and at my side? she is the victim of a plot from which i must rescue her." the italian gazed again away across the roofs of the eternal city, now growing more indistinct in the gathering mists. "i fear, signor holford," he at last exclaimed with a sigh, "that you have a very difficult task before you. you are evidently in ignorance of certain curious facts." "concerning what?" "concerning your wife." "you would cast a slur upon her good name?" i cried excitedly, my anger rising. "not at all," was his calm, polite response, his lips parted in a pleasant smile. "you asked me to assist you, and i was about to give you advice--that is, provided that you have told me the truth." "about what?" "about miss ethelwynn--that she still lives." "of that there is no doubt," i said. "and if you found your signora alive and well, you would undertake to make no further inquiry?" he repeated, with undue eagerness. "ah! you wish to tie me down to that?" i cried. "you do so because you and your friends are in fear. you realise your own peril--eh?" "no," declared the man at my side; "you still entirely misunderstand me. you are an englishman, and you mistrust me merely because i am a foreigner. it is a prejudice all you english have, more or less." "i entertain no prejudice," i declared hotly. "but to tell you the truth, antonio, i am tired of all this mystery, and now that kirk and his friends have alienated me from my wife, i intend to take action." "in what manner?" he asked calmly. "i shall go to the questore here, in rome, and tell the truth. i happen to know him personally." "and you will mention my name!" he gasped, well knowing probably the drastic measures adopted by the police of his own country. "i shall not be able to avoid mentioning it," i responded, with a smile. "_bene_!" he answered, in a hard, hoarse voice. "and if you did--well, signore, i can promise that you would never again see your signora alive. go to the questore now! tell him all you know! apply for my arrest! and then wait the disaster that must fall upon you, and upon your missing wife. an unseen hand struck professor greer--an unseen hand will most assuredly strike you, as swiftly, as unerringly." and then facing me defiantly, a grin upon his sinister face, the fellow added: "silence, signore, is your only guarantee of safety--i assure you!" chapter seventeen. ethelwynn speaks. i looked into the closely-set, crafty eyes of the old italian, and saw both determination and desperation. was he the man who killed professor greer? "i require no guarantee of safety from you, antonio," i answered quickly. "i am now solely in search of my wife. where is she?" "caro signore, i have no idea," was the old fellow's bland reply, as he exhibited his palms. "i have not the pleasure of the signora's acquaintance." "but you know where kirk is hiding, and she is with him, assisting him in discovering my whereabouts, i believe!" i cried. "that the signor kirk crossed from dover to calais i am well aware, but of his movements afterwards i assure you i am in complete ignorance." what could i do further? he professed to be equally mystified with myself regarding my wife's disappearance, declaring his readiness and anxiety to assist me if it were possible. then, in the falling twilight, we slowly descended the road together, he giving me his address in the via tordinona, a side street close to the bridge of sant' angelo, which i noted on my shirt-cuff. at the porto del popolo we parted, and i returned to the hotel to dine with gwen, whom i found awaiting me in feverish expectation. i told her briefly of my meeting with a man i knew, but explained nothing of his connection with the house in sussex place, nor of the secret tragedy that had been enacted. next day was the fifth of february, the day of santa agata. how well i recollect it, for at noon we bade farewell to the eternal city, and as the train roared on across those wide, dreary marshes of the maremma on our journey northward, i sat in the corner of the compartment and made up my mind to go direct and seek ethelwynn, the girl whom i had seen dead, and who was yet alive. i recalled all antonio's ominous statements; how that he had expressed a doubt whether the professor's assassin would ever be brought to justice, and how he had threatened that, if i betrayed the truth to the police, i should never again meet mabel alive. did not those words of his conclusively prove complicity in the affair? why did he command my silence at peril of my dear wife's life. he had lied when he told me that he was ignorant of her whereabouts; but if he were the actual assassin, or even one of the accomplices, i saw that i could hope for no assistance from him. it was that conclusion which caused me to resolve to invoke the aid of the girl whom i had seen lying upon the floor, cold and lifeless. from rome to broadstairs is a far cry, but two days later we alighted at victoria, and on the morning of the third day i found myself at the door of a pretty newly-built red-roofed house standing in its own ground high upon the cliffs between the grand hotel at broadstairs and dumpton gap. a neat maid opened the door, and, on inquiring for miss greer, i was shown across a square, ample hall to a small cosy sitting-room overlooking the sea, facing direct upon the treacherous goodwins. the maid who took my card returned to say that her mistress would be with me in a few moments. and then i stood at the window, gazing along at the quaint old-world harbour of broadstairs, with "bleak house" standing high beyond, full of keen anxiety as to the result of the interview. she came at last, a tall, slim figure, in a dark stuff skirt and cream silk blouse, relieved by a touch of colour at the throat, a sweet-faced, fair-haired, delicate girl, whose large blue eyes wore a look of wonder at the visit of a stranger. she whom i had seen a corpse was certainly alive, and living here in the flesh! "i must apologise for this intrusion, miss greer," i began, for want of something better to say, "but i may introduce myself as an acquaintance of mr. langton--an acquaintance under somewhat romantic and curious circumstances." "mr. langton has already told me how he met you--when he believed there were burglars in our house in sussex place," she said, with a brightening smile. "yes," i replied. "i--well, i was put there on guard, but mr. langton's suspicions fortunately proved to be unfounded." "ah!" she said, with just the slightest suspicion of a sigh. "i'm glad of that--very glad!" "the reason of my visit, miss greer, is," i explained after a brief pause, "to ask you whether you are aware of the whereabouts of my friend, your father?" and i fixed my eyes straight upon hers. "my father went to scotland," she replied, without wavering. "at present he's in germany. the last i heard of him was three days ago, when he was in strassburg." "he wrote to you?" i gasped, staring at her in amazement that this ready lie should be upon her lips. she noted my surprise, and said: "yes, why shouldn't he?" what reply could i give? could i tell her that the professor, her father, had been cruelly done to death, and his body cremated in his own experimental furnace? had i not given my word of honour to that weird will-o'-the-wisp, kershaw kirk, that i would preserve silence? besides, my only thought was for my own dear wife, whose face now rose ever before me. "well," i stammered. "i--well--i believed that you were unaware of his whereabouts, miss greer. at least, i understood so from your father's butler, antonio." she smiled, regarding me quite calmly. she was either in ignorance of what had occurred, or else she was a most perfect actress. yet how could she feign ignorance? had not kirk told me that she had thrown herself upon her knees before her father's body, vowing a fierce, bitter vengeance upon his assassin? perhaps kirk had lied, of course, yet i recollected that the discovery had been made while the dead man's daughter was in the house, and that after the astounding incident she had removed with morgan, her maid, to lady mellor's, while the other servants--unaware of what had occurred--had either been sent away down to broadstairs, or else discharged. in secret, this handsome girl before me--the girl with that perfect dimpled face and innocent blue eyes--had returned, and we had found her lying apparently dead in the dining-room. ethelwynn's present attitude of pretended ignorance of her father's fate struck me as both amazing and culpable. "you say that the professor was in strassburg?" i said. "is he still there?" "as far as i know," she replied, twisting her rings nervously around her thin white finger. "could i telegraph to him?" i ventured to suggest. "certainly, if you have business with him," she responded. "i'll go and get the address." and she swiftly left the room, leaving on the air a sweet breath of violets, a bunch of which she wore in her belt. a few minutes later she returned with a letter in her hand. "his address is kronenburger strasse, number fifteen," she exclaimed. "do you know strassburg? it's just at the corner, by the bridge over the canal." "i have never been in strassburg," was my reply. "but i have important business with the professor, so, with your permission, i will telegraph to him from here." "most certainly," she said. "he tells me that his affairs are likely to keep him abroad for a considerable time. but--" and she paused. at last she added: "i have never heard him speak of you as a friend, mr.-- mr. holford." "perhaps not," i said quickly. "the fact is, i'm a confidential friend of his, as well as of mr. kershaw kirk." "a friend of mr. kirk!" she cried, staring at me with a startled expression, half of fear and half of surprise. "yes," i said. "i believe mr. kirk is an intimate friend both of your father and yourself. is not that so?" "certainly. he's our very best friend. both dad and i trust him implicitly," replied the girl. "indeed, during my father's absence he is left in charge of my affairs." for a moment i remained silent. "he is your friend--eh?" "certainly. why do you ask?" "well, because i feared that he was not your friend," i answered. "do you happen to know his whereabouts?" "he's abroad somewhere, but where i don't know." "ah!" i laughed lightly, in pretence of careless irresponsibility. "he has always struck me as a strange figure, ever mysterious and ever evasive. who and what is he?" "you probably know as much of him, mr. holford, as i do," was the girl's answer. "i only know him to be an intimate friend of my father, and the ideal of an english gentleman. of his profession, or of his past, i know nothing. my father, who knows him intimately, is always silent upon that point." i noted that she spoke in the present tense, as though to preserve the fiction that her father was still alive. ah! this girl with the innocent eyes and the wonderful hair, the beloved of young leonard langton, was an admirable actress, without a doubt. without the tremble of an eyelid, or the movement of a muscle of the mouth, she had actually declared to me that professor greer was still alive! "to me, kirk is a mystery," i declared, my gaze fixed straight into her eyes as i stood near the window where the wintry sunlight from across the sea fell full upon her; "at times i doubt him." "and so does mr. langton," she responded. "but i think that the fears of both of you are quite groundless. mr. kirk is a little eccentric, that's all." "when did you first know him?" i inquired. "oh, when i came back from lausanne, where i had been at school, i found him to be my father's most trusted friend. they used to spend many evenings together in the study, smoking and discussing abstruse points of foreign politics in which i, a woman, have no interest." "and has he always showed friendship towards you, miss greer?" i asked. "oh, yes, and to leonard also, though of late i fear there has been some little unpleasantness between them." at this i pricked my ears. i recollected that young langton had, to me, pretended ignorance of the very existence of kershaw kirk! what was the meaning of his attitude towards the man whom i had so foolishly allowed to escape, and who had repaid my friendship by inducing my wife to travel upon a fool's errand, and, as i feared, fall into a fatal trap laid open for her? antonio had covertly threatened me, and i knew instinctively that my well-beloved mabel was now in direst peril. ah! that wild fevered life i was now leading was one continuous whirl of dread, of suspicion, and of dark despair. "you have actual knowledge that mr. langton has quarrelled with kirk?" i asked at last. "yes, and i much regret it, for mr. kirk has been our very good friend throughout. it was he who urged my father to allow mr. langton to pay court to me," she added. "it was he who made the suggestion that we might be allowed to marry. such being the case, how can i think ill of the eccentric old fellow?" "of course not," i said, "but is your trust really well founded, do you think? are you quite certain that he is your friend, or only your pretended ally?" "i am quite certain," she declared, "i have had proof abundant of it." "your father did not, i believe, tell you of his projected visit to germany before leaving?" "no," was her reply. "he went up to edinburgh, but after having left me was suddenly compelled to alter his plans. he crossed to the hook of holland, travelling from york to harwich without returning to london." "this he has told you?" "yes, in a letter he wrote from cologne. i wanted to join him, but he would not allow me, and ordered me to come down here. he is very busy concerning one of his recent discoveries." "ah!" i sighed. "he would not allow you to go to him, eh?" "no; he made excuse that the weather was better just now in broadstairs than in southern germany, and said that his future movements were very uncertain, and that he could not be hampered by a woman." in that reply i recognised an evasiveness which was natural. the professor himself was dead, and this mysterious person posing as him was, of course, disinclined to meet ethelwynn face to face. yet that even surely did not affect the girl's amazing attitude? she herself had seen her father dead, yet was now actually assisting the impostor to keep up the fiction that he was still alive! chapter eighteen. i draw the impostor. having invented a story of a secret business friendship with the professor, i remained with his pretty daughter for perhaps a quarter of an hour longer. from her i further learned that leonard langton was now back in london, and that kirk had written her implicit instructions to remain at broadstairs for the present. then i bade her farewell, and walked back along the cliffs, past the grand hotel, to the quaint parade of the old-fashioned little watering-place, turning up to the chemist's shop, which is, at the same time, the post-office. thence i dispatched a telegram addressed to professor greer at the address in strassburg which his daughter had given me, appending kirk's name, and asking for a reply to be sent to the albion hotel at broadstairs, where i intended staying. afterwards i strolled to the hotel, ate my luncheon, and idled along the deserted jetty and promenade throughout the bleak, bright afternoon in eager expectation of a response from the impostor. my thought was ever on my dear lost mabel. fettered by ignorance and mystery, i knew not in which direction to search, nor could i discern any motive by which we should be thus parted. my tea i took in the hotel, and afterwards smoked a cigar, until just before six the waiter handed me a message, a brief reply to mine, which read: "why are you running risks in broadstairs, when you should be elsewhere? be judicious and leave.--greer." i read the message over a dozen times. what risks could kirk be running by coming to broadstairs? was not that telegram essentially a word of warning given by one accomplice to another? and yet ethelwynn trusted kirk just as blindly and foolishly as her father had done. but was not the truth a strange one? she had concealed from me, as she was concealing from the world, that the professor had died at the hand of an unknown assassin. or was it that she herself was an accomplice? no, i could never believe that. i refused to give credence to any such suggestion. i ascended the long hill to broadstairs station, and half an hour later left for victoria. my intention was to go direct to strassburg and there to discover and unmask the impostor. but ere i reached london the night mail for the continent had already left charing cross, so i took a taxicab to my lonely home, where gwen was awaiting me, still anxious and expectant. i told her of the fruitlessness of my errand, whereupon she sank back into her chair, staring straight into the fire. in brief i explained that i had discovered the existence of a person in strassburg who could probably give me a clue to the whereabouts of kirk and mabel. hence my intention of departing by the first service next morning. "cannot you telegraph and ask?" suggested the girl. "we seem, harry, to be losing so much time," she added frantically. "you haven't been to the police." "i know, gwen," i said in sorrow, "but i can't do more. to telegraph further might close the channel of our inquiry. no, we must still remain patient." then, after snatching some food which had been left in the dining-room for me, i swallowed a glass of burgundy and entered the small room which i used as my particular den. from there i rang up pelham on the telephone, and heard the latest details concerning the business which i was now sadly neglecting. afterwards i sat down and wrote an advertisement for the _times_, an appeal addressed to "silence" for news of my lost wife, an appeal which at the same time contained a veiled threat of exposure of the affair in sussex place. this i concluded, and, ringing up an express messenger, dispatched it to the advertisement offices of the paper. then, with sudden resolve, i went forth to wimpole street to call upon leonard langton. i found him in his cosy, well-furnished chambers, busy writing letters, while the round-faced man seated in a big arm-chair by the fire smoking a pipe he introduced as his chum with whom he shared chambers, doctor hamilton flynn. "flynn's a specialist on the nose and throat," he laughed. "he has his consulting rooms along in harley street, and we pig it here together." "jolly comfortable quarters," i remarked, glancing round. "i called here before, but you were out." "yes, so sorry!" he exclaimed. "sit down and have a cigar," and he handed me a box of most excellent weeds. "well," exclaimed the smart young fellow who was the confidential secretary of sir albert oppenheim, "i'm really glad to see you again, mr. holford. that was a most mysterious incident at sussex place the other evening," he added. "i'm still convinced that somebody was in the house. the professor's furnace was alight, you recollect, and the laboratory door stood open." "langton has told me all about it," remarked the doctor in a deep voice; "very curious, it seems." "most extraordinary," i declared, "and the more so that merli, the butler, should have suddenly disappeared. the other day i met him in rome." "met antonio!" gasped ethelwynn's lover, staring at me in amazement. "have you been to italy?" "yes. i told him of our search, but he declared himself ignorant of everything, though he admitted having seen you passing through the buffet at calais-maritime." "what is he doing in rome?" "i have no idea; i was there in a vain endeavour to recover my lost wife. she has been misled by a forged telegram purporting to come from myself, and is somewhere on the continent. where, however, i cannot tell." "you've lost your wife, eh?" asked the doctor, glancing strangely across at his companion, i thought. his face was dark and aquiline, his shoulders sloped. he was not a man to be trusted. "you think she's been tricked?" he added. "why?" "ah, at present i can form no theory as to the motive. if i could i might perchance discover the person responsible for her disappearance," and i briefly told him of my frantic journey to the italian capital. "and now i am going to strassburg tomorrow," i added. "why to strassburg?" inquired doctor flynn, regarding me fixedly with those keen eyes of his. "because professor greer is there, and i have an idea that he can tell me something." "the professor is no longer there," was langton's quick interruption. "half an hour ago i spoke to ethelwynn on the telephone, and she told me that she had just heard by telegraph from her father that he had left for linz on his way to hungary." my heart fell within me. evidently my telegram signed kirk had scared the man passing himself off as the professor. "but i might go on to linz, or catch him up somewhere in hungary," i suggested. "it would be futile, my dear fellow," said langton. "why?" "well, just at present professor greer wishes to be left entirely alone by his friends." "but there must be some reason," i cried, for there seemed on every hand to be a conspiracy of silence again me. "there is a reason," replied the young man in a low, calm voice, "one which, however, seems mysterious." "ah!" i cried. "then even you are mystified by these strange happenings?" "yes," he replied, knocking the ash from his cigar, "i have had certain suspicions aroused, holford--vague suspicions of something wrong in the professor's household. antonio is absent, the servants have all been paid and dispersed, the house in sussex place is closed, and--" "and the professor is a fugitive, fleeing towards hungary," i added. "has not miss ethelwynn told you anything?" "what she has told me has been in complete confidence. it has caused me a great deal of surprise and apprehension, holford, and this surprise has been increased by what you have told me this evening--that your wife has been enticed away, and is missing." "but what connection can my wife possibly have with any occurrence at the house of professor greer?" i demanded. "she was in ignorance of everything. she was not even acquainted with greer. i might tell you that to-day i have been down to broadstairs and seen miss ethelwynn," i added. "ethelwynn did not seem to remember ever having met you when i told her of our encounter at the door, and the subsequent events." "i am a friend of the professor's, not of his daughter," i hastened to explain. "but are you absolutely certain that a journey to strassburg to-morrow would be useless?" "absolutely. if greer consented to see his friends i would be the first to see him." "and he has refused even you, eh?" i asked, smiling within myself at the superior knowledge i possessed. "he has. he refuses, too, to allow his daughter to go to him." "but why?" i asked. "for reasons known, i suppose, to himself." "does he give none?" "he vaguely answers that certain matters concerning a great scientific discovery he has made compel him at present to hold aloof from both family and friends. he fears, i think, that someone who has discovered his secret may betray it." "but surely ethelwynn would not?" i cried. "i desire to see the professor because i feel confident he can, if he will, explain the motive of the trap into which my wife has fallen." "if he refuses to see his own daughter he will hardly see you," remarked the dark-faced doctor. "under exactly what circumstances has mrs. holford disappeared?" i briefly explained, at the same time regarding the round-shouldered specialist with some antagonism. to me, it appeared as though he were erecting an invisible barrier between myself and the knowledge of the truth. he seemed entirely langton's friend, corroborating his every word. and the more curious became his attitude when at last i remarked with firm and resolute air: "well, if professor greer refuses to see me, then i shall invoke the aid of the police. they will probably very soon discover him, wherever he may be." "i hardly think that would be a wise policy," remarked flynn, tossing his cigar-end into the fire, and rising quickly from his chair, "unless, of course, you could make some direct charge against him." i was silent for a moment. "and if i did? what then?" i asked, speaking boldly in a clear voice, my eyes fixed upon his, for remember i was fighting for knowledge of my dear wife's whereabouts. "well--if you did," was his deliberate reply, "it would be you yourself that would suffer, mr. holford, and no one else." was it not astounding, startling? this doctor, the bosom friend of ethelwynn's lover, had given me exactly the same threatening reply as antonio had given me on the pincian in rome. what could it mean? the reason why the false professor was avoiding friends and enemies alike was, of course, sufficiently plain to me. but for what reason was my well-beloved mabel, the loving wife whom i adored, held in the unscrupulous hands of those who killed professor greer? and why was every effort of mine to discover her met only by threats of impending disaster? i gazed at the two men before me in silent defiance. if it cost me my own life i intended to discover her and hold her dear form once again in my arms. she was mine--mine before god and before man; and these persons seeking for some mysterious motive to shield the false professor should not further stand in the way of justice. "you think i dare not go to the police!" i cried at last. "very well, if you care to come with me to scotland yard now--for i am going straight there--i will, in the presence of both of you, unfold a strange tale which they'll be very much surprised to hear." "you believe you know the truth!" laughed langton. "no, my dear holford. don't be such a fool! the police cannot help in this affair, for the mystery is far too complicated. keep your own counsel." "yes," i sneered, "and depend upon the man of whom you have denied all knowledge--the man kershaw kirk." "kershaw kirk!" gasped the doctor, and i saw that he went pale, his dark eyes starting from his head. "do you know him? is he--is he your friend, mr. holford--or--_or your enemy_?" chapter nineteen. gwen reveals something. it struck me that this keen-eyed, crafty-faced, round-shouldered specialist in diseases of the throat intended to profit by information derived from me regarding the mysterious kirk. why, i did not know. we all of us have at times a strange intuition of impending evil, one that we cannot account for and cannot describe. recollect, i was only just an ordinary man, a hard-working industrious dealer in motor-cars, a man who made a fair income, who was no romancer, and was entirely devoted to his wife, who had, ever since his marriage, been his best friend and adviser. the professor was a scientist, i remembered, and this man hamilton flynn was apparently a doctor of some note. could there be any connection between the pair, i wondered. flynn, langton's most intimate friend, was no doubt aware of much, if not all, that transpired in the professor's household. that he knew kershaw kirk was apparent by his surprise when i mentioned his name. "kirk is a mere acquaintance of mine," i responded, after a brief pause; "whether he is my friend, or my enemy, remains to be seen." "he's your enemy, depend upon that, mr. holford," declared flynn emphatically. "he is a marvellously clever schemer, and the friend of few." i bit my lip. well did i know, alas! that the fellow whose asides to his pet "joseph" were so entertaining was not my friend. it was upon my tongue to explain how the description of that man who was travelling with my wife in search of me tallied with that of my strange neighbour who had, with such subtle cunning, drawn me into that mysterious tragedy. but next second i hesitated. this man flynn i mistrusted. my impression was that he was not playing a straight game, either with myself or with his friend leonard langton. a thousand questions i had to ask those men--and langton especially--but i saw by their attitude that their intention was rather to mislead me than to reveal anything. when i presently bade them farewell neither of them offered to assist me in my search for mabel. therefore i went forth into the darkness and silence of wimpole street-- for it was now near midnight--and walked down into oxford street ere i could find a taxi-cab to convey me back to my now cheerless home. lying awake that night, i decided to postpone my journey to germany. it was evident that the impostor passing himself off as the professor had taken my telegram purporting to come from kirk as a warning, and had escaped. i had been a fool to telegraph. i should have gone there instead. his reason for keeping up the fiction that the professor was alive was, of course, obvious, for while he did so there would be no inquiry into the whereabouts of the missing man. i had made a promise to kershaw kirk, yet now that he had so grossly deceived me, why should i keep it? why should i not tell the truth? i reflected; there were, i saw, three reasons why i should still preserve silence. the first was because, after that lapse of time, i should be suspected, perhaps arrested, as an accomplice and dragged through a criminal court. the second was that ethelwynn herself was, for some amazing reason, pretending that her father still lived; and the third was by reason of the strange threat of mabel's death uttered by the evil-faced italian, and repeated by that harley street specialist who was leonard langton's closest friend. the assassins were actually holding my dear wife as hostage against any revelation i dared to make! that, in a word, was the true position. i paced my room that night in the agony of despair. of nothing did i think but the dear, sweet-faced woman so suddenly enticed away from my side by reason of her eagerness to meet me. she was a woman of high ideals and of lofty sentiments; a womanly woman who, though fond of a little gaiety and of the theatre, realised that her place was in her own home, where she reigned supreme. before my marriage my father, as fathers will, had looked upon her with considerable misgiving. she was a little too flighty, too fond of dress, of dinners, and dances, he had said. but after our wedding and our honeymoon spent in a car touring up in scotland, she had settled down, and never for a single instant had i regretted my choice. few men could say that. indeed, up to that day when kershaw kirk called to inspect the eckhardt tyre, i was one of the happiest men in all london; prosperous in my business, and contented in my love. now, alas! all had changed. i was obsessed by the knowledge of a great and startling secret, and at the same time i had lost all that to me was most dear and cherished. next morning gwen, fresh in her clean cotton blouse, and the big black bow in her hair, sat in her accustomed place at the breakfast table, but after greeting me lapsed into a thoughtful silence. at last she asked: "have you packed your things, harry?" "oh, i forgot to tell you!" i exclaimed. "i'm not going to-day. i've changed my mind." "not going? why, i thought you intended to see the professor in strassburg?" she cried. "he has left," i sighed; "i learned last night that he is on his way to hungary." "and will you not follow?" asked the girl in reproach. "will you not try to discover where mabel is?" "i've tried, gwen--and failed," i answered despairingly. "you have not told me all, harry," she said, looking across at me. at the head of the table was mabel's empty place. "you have concealed something from me," she declared. "it is nothing that you should know," was my quick reply. "my own private business does not concern you, gwen--or mabel either." "but surely i ought to know the truth? mabel has been decoyed away abroad, and there must be some motive for it," she replied in bitter complaint. "of course, my dear girl, but even i, in the knowledge of what has passed, cannot discern what the motive can be. if i could, all would be plain sailing, and we would soon recover her," i said. "who is this professor of whom you have spoken?" she asked, leaning her elbows upon the table, and gazing straight into my eyes. "professor greer, the well-known chemist." "greer?" echoed the girl, staring at me strangely. "yes, why?" but she hesitated, as though disinclined to tell me something which was upon her mind. "you know the professor, eh, harry?" "i've met him once," i replied, which was perfectly true. "and only once?" she asked. "only once," was my quick response. "that's curious." "why?" "well--well, i suppose i ought not to tell you, for, of course, harry-- it's no business of mine," remarked the girl, "but as mabel is now missing, no fact should be concealed, and i think you really ought to know that--" "that what?" i cried. "tell me quickly, gwen! conceal nothing from me!" "well, that mabel one morning received a note delivered by express messenger, and i asked her whom it was from. she seemed unusually flurried, and told me that it was from professor greer." "but she never knew him!" i gasped. "what day was that?" "the day before you returned from glasgow." "the same day on which she received that telegram from italy purporting to be signed by me!" i exclaimed. "why didn't you tell me this before, gwen?" "mabel's affairs have nothing to do with me. i am not interested in her correspondents, harry," she replied. "surely it is not my place to carry tales to you, is it?" "no; pardon me," i said, hastening to excuse myself, "but in this affair the truth must be told." "then why haven't you told it to me?" asked the girl. "why are you so carefully hiding other facts?" "because they are of concern only to myself--a secret which is mine, and mine alone." "and it does not concern mabel?" she demanded. "no," i replied hoarsely, "except that her acquaintance with the professor has placed a new phase upon the mystery. tell me all that happened concerning that note." "it came about eleven o'clock in the morning," she said. "i saw a telegraph-boy come up the steps, and believed he had a message from you. annie took the note and brought it here into the dining-room, where mabel signed for it. she read it through, and i saw that it caused her a great shock of surprise. her hands were trembling. i inquired what was the matter, but she made some evasive reply. i demanded to know whom it was from, and she replied that her correspondent's name was greer. `he ought never to have written to me,' she added. `men are sometimes most injudicious.' then she rose and placed the letter in the flames, watching it until it had been burned." "and is that all?" i demanded, astounded at the girl's story. "yes, except that for some hours afterwards she seemed very upset. to me it appeared as though she had received word of some unusual occurrence. at noon she called a taxi by telephone, and went out. she did not return for luncheon, so i was alone. at three she came back, and i saw that she looked pale and distressed, while her eyes were red, as though she had been crying. but i attributed that to our ignorance of where you were. you know, harry, how upset she is if when you are away you don't write or wire to her every day," added the girl. the story held me utterly speechless. that mabel was acquainted in secret with the professor astounded me. but it had been the false professor who had written to her. possibly the fellow was already in london while i was searching for him in glasgow, and, if so, what was more probable than that she should have met him by appointment? not one single instant did i doubt mabel's truth and love. if she had met this impostor, then she had been the victim of some cleverly-planned plot. i was incensed only against the perpetrators of that foul crime in sussex place, not against the sweet, soft-spoken woman who was so near my heart. mabel was my wife, my love, my all-in-all. poor gwen, watching my face intently, believed that she had acted as a sneak towards her sister, but i quickly reassured her that it was not so. her revelations had sent my thoughts into a different channel. "the telegram summoning her to italy came after her return?" i asked. "yes, she was upset, and would eat no tea," the girl answered. "her conversation was all the time of you. `harry is in danger,' she said several times. `something tells me that he is in the greatest danger.' then, when the message came, she became almost frantic in her anxiety for your welfare, saying, `did i not tell you so? my husband is in peril. he is the victim of a plot!'" "you never heard her speak of the professor before?" i inquired. "never, harry; and, truth to tell, i was surprised that she should receive a letter from a man who she admitted to me was unknown to you." "she told you that?" i cried. "she said that you were not acquainted with the professor, and that you might object to him writing to her, if you knew." "then she was in fear of discovery, eh?" i asked in a husky voice. "yes," faltered the girl. "it--it almost seemed as though she was. but really, harry, i--i know i've done wrong to tell you all this. i--i'm quite ashamed of myself. but it is because i am in such great fear that something has happened to my sister." "you have done quite right, gwen," i assured her. "the circumstances have warranted your outspokenness. some men might perhaps misjudge their wives in such a case, but i love mabel, and she loves me. therefore i will believe no ill of her. she is the innocent victim of a plot, and by heaven!" i cried fiercely, "while i live i'll devote my whole life to its exposure, and to the just punishment of any who have dared to harm her!" chapter twenty. one traveller returns. one fact was quite plain. it was the false professor who had written to my wife. for aught i knew, the man whom i had followed from edinburgh to glasgow might have already been in london, and she might have met him by appointment. during the morning i took the "forty-eight," and ran over to regent's park, passing slowly before both front and back of the house in sussex place. the blinds were up, but from the condition of the doorsteps it was plain that the place was tenantless. from the "london directory" i obtained the number of lady mellor's, in upper brook street, and called. the fat butler told me that morgan, miss greer's maid, had left with her mistress, and as far as he knew was down at broadstairs with her. her ladyship was at bordighera. i inquired if he knew anything of the other servants at professor greer's. "no, nothing," was the man's answer. "at least, nothing except that the professor went abroad suddenly, and that they were all discharged and given wages in lieu of notice." "that italian fellow discharged them, didn't he?" i asked. "yes, sir. i never liked him. he's gone abroad with his master, they say, and they've left a caretaker in charge." "oh, there is someone there, eh?" "yes, a policeman named murphy and his wife. they used to take care of this house for her ladyship, and miss ethelwynn has now given her father's house over to them. they're a very steady pair, and live on the premises." surely it was a master-stroke of the girl's to give over to the police that house of tragedy! why was she concealing the fact of her father's death? i drove back to chiswick with that one thought uppermost in my mind. that afternoon i sat in my own office trying to attend to the details of a business too long neglected, and listening mechanically to pelham, to dick drake, and to the others in my employment, who were complaining of the unsatisfactory trials of a new car i had recently purchased. professor greer was dead, and every trace of the crime removed, save for those grim, indisputable relics which i had recovered from the ashes and now held most sacred. but further, my dear wife, whose knowledge of the impostor was so amazing, was also missing. the one point which, i confess, caused me some qualms, was the reason why, not discovering me, she had not telegraphed to gwen. that, surely, would be her first thought. if she had missed me, she would surely have let either gwen or pelham know. hence i could only think that she had either fallen into some fatal trap--and there are many in the by-ways of certain continental cities-- or else she was forcibly held from communicating with the outer world. if so, by whom? probably by the professor's false friend, kershaw kirk. i could not put away from my mind the curious altitude of hamilton flynn. why had he endeavoured to frighten me from going to scotland yard? what motive had he in this? in what manner was he assisting his friend, leonard langton? again, was langton in ignorance of the professor's end, or had he knowledge of it, and was it by his persuasion that his beloved was so cleverly feigning ignorance of all the past? i began to suspect that these two men, bosom chums that they were, had some hidden motive for concealing the professor's death. yet, after all, the point most amazing was the reason why, in the face of facts now revealed, my mysterious neighbour should have taken such pains to reveal the truth to me. that evening, after a hasty meal at home with gwen, i went back to the garage, put on a greasy engineer's suit which i sometimes wore when doing dirty work around the cars, and buttoned over it a frayed tweed coat belonging to one of the men. then, with a cap on and a pipe in my mouth, i went forth, and made my way on the top of a motor-'bus to the corner of wimpole street. if flynn went out i intended to watch his proceedings, for though i entertained only a vague suspicion of langton, yet i felt confident that his friend was not acting squarely. have you ever been seized with misgivings of a person whom you have no just cause to doubt? is not such a feeling the result of some unseen evil influence radiating from the person suspected--often quite rightly? my first impression of this specialist in diseases of the throat and nose was a bad one. therefore, i strolled up the long, eminently respectable street, crossing wigmore street and queen anne street, until a few doors on the left before coming into great marylebone street, i halted before the house wherein the pair shared chambers. there were bright lights in their big sitting-room on the first floor, the room wherein flynn had made those covert threats. it was then half-past eight. they would have dined by that hour, and if they were going out they would certainly very soon make an appearance. i strolled to the corner of great marylebone street, and idled at the corner, watching. the evening was bright and cold, and many cabs were passing and repassing. i lit my pipe, and sauntered up and down, my eye ever upon the front door of the house wherein the two men lived. the time hung heavily, as it ever does when one is watching. an hour dragged by, but no one came out. at last, however, a maid ran up the area steps and came in my direction with a letter in her hand ready for posting in the pillar-box near which i was standing. as she stopped i spoke to her, but at first she hesitated to answer. after slipping five shillings into her hand, however, i induced her to tell me that the doctor had dined alone, and was sitting upstairs. mr. langton had, she said, left london early in the afternoon, but she was unaware of where he had gone. "tell me," i asked the girl, "do they ever have a visitor named kirk?" "kirk!" she echoed. "oh, yes, i recollect, 'e used to often call, but of late 'e 'asn't been." and she described my mysterious neighbour exactly. "when did he last call?" i asked. "oh, i should say it 'ud be quite a month ago. 'e always used to arsk for the doctor." "never for mr. langton?" "not to my knowledge. indeed, one afternoon when 'e called i told 'im that the doctor was out, but that mr. langton was at 'ome; but 'e told me that 'e wished to see the doctor an' nobody else." "how long has doctor flynn lived there?" i inquired. "about nine months." "does he have many callers?" "no; they all go round to 'is consulting room in 'arley street, i believe." "all except kirk." "yes, mr. kirk used to call at all hours, and they used to sit together arf through the night sometimes--after mr. langton 'ad gone to bed. 'e's never up very late, 'e ain't." and then, after a few more questions, i allowed the cockney girl to return to the house, first, however, impressing upon her the need for secrecy, and adding another five shillings to that i had already given her. half an hour later i saw the front door open, and flynn, in dark overcoat and hard felt hat, ran down the steps and turned towards oxford street. soon i was at his heels. he presently turned into wigmore street, crossed cavendish square, and continued through mortimer street into wells street, quite unconscious of being followed. he walked with an air of preoccupation, twice stopping to light his cigarette. now that he was under my observation i did not intend that he should escape me. besides, there was nothing suspicious about me, for i was merely a plain motor-mechanic, such as is seen about the london streets in dozens at all hours. continuing down wardour street he came into coventry street, where he ascended the carpeted stairs to a saloon well known to a certain class of the habitues of the west end. in my mechanic's clothes i knew that the uniformed janitor at the bottom of the stairs would direct me to the public bar, therefore i was compelled to remain outside and await the doctor's exit. the place was evidently crowded, as it usually is, for it is one of the recognised nocturnal rendezvous in the neighbourhood of leicester square. i crossed the road and stood near the entrance to the motor club, of which i was a member. many men i knew passed and repassed within its swing doors, but none recognised me. therefore i was quite satisfied that, with my dirty face, doctor flynn would not easily identify me. at last he came forth, and alone. i saw by his hesitation on the kerb that he was disappointed. someone he had expected had not turned up, and he was now undecided in which direction to walk. it was then about half-past ten, the quietest hour of the evening in that neighbourhood, yet the illuminated signs lent an air of gaiety to that scene so typical of london as the middle-class know it. having lit a cigarette the doctor strolled down the haymarket, and turning up charles street, passed the "junior," crossed st. james's square, where he entered the "sports," made inquiry for someone, but found the person was not in. then, continuing his way--while i walked at a respectable distance behind--he turned into duke street, where at a door about half-way up he paused and tugged at a bell. i took careful note of that door, one with a semi-circular fanlight above and a painted number, and then turned quickly on my heel to avoid passing him as he stood in my way upon the pavement. he was admitted and the door was closed. then i passed the house, and saw that it was a good-sized one, probably let in sets of chambers, as are many of the houses in that vicinity. i walked on to jermyn street and stood at the corner, lighting my pipe. a white-faced man passed--a wretched, decrepit old fellow whose hollow cough told its own tale, and who offered me matches. i bought a box, and began to chat with him. all loafers are fond of a gossip, and i did this in order not to appear to the watchful constable, who was trying the locked doors of shops in the vicinity, that i was loitering. a well-dressed man may linger as long as he likes, but one who appears as a mechanic, or as a shabby idler, is very soon moved on unless he, in turn, is, a "nark," or police-informer. the old man related to me a pitiable story of misfortune which might or might not be true, but it served to while away the time, while i, on my part, kept an ever-watchful vigilance upon the door just down the street. i must have been there nearly an hour, for the traffic at the end of the street in piccadilly had awakened, and every moment the lights of hansoms and taxis were flitting past. the theatres were just over, and the pleasure-seekers were already westward bound. at length, just as i had grown inexpressibly weary, the door i was watching reopened, and from it emerged flynn, accompanied by a man in evening dress with a white muffler around his neck and wearing a crush-hat--a man whom, in an instant, i recognised as leonard langton. he blew a whistle for a taxi; but, seeing their intention was to drive away, i sped along into piccadilly, and, finding one, gave the man swift instructions to wait until they entered a conveyance, and then to follow them. the driver, noticing my clothes, looked askance at me, but i added: "they owe me some money for work done on a car, and i mean to see where they go." there is a clannishness about motor-men, therefore the instant i had told my story he declared himself ready to assist me. and as i sat back in the cab langton and his friend, who had now gained piccadilly, passed in search of a cab. in a few moments they found one, and soon we had turned the corner of st. james's street, and were running down to pall mall, where we turned to the left, and after a sharp drive, swung into the station yard at charing cross. here the pair alighted, and, watching, i saw them stroll upon the arrival platform where, according to the chalked figures on the board, the boat-train from the continent, already over an hour late, was now expected. the usual crowd was waiting there, friends of passengers, porters, customs officers, and the women agents of the various female rescue societies--an expectant crowd which, year in, year out, never differs. the pair halted in earnest conversation about half-way along the platform, while i strolled slowly at some distance away, with my eyes upon them. flynn was arguing something, emphasising his words with his hands, while langton stood by listening in silence. then there was the sudden movement of the porters who had noticed some signal fall, and looking towards the dark bridge i saw the headlight of the engine slowly approaching. the doctor raised his finger to his friend, an action expressive of an injunction of silence. whom were they expecting to arrive? with bated breath i stood motionless, watching in eager wonder. from the arrival, whoever it might be, these men intended to preserve some secret. chapter twenty one. i make a bold move. for a moment i lost the two men in the excited crowd of alighting passengers, but when i gained another sight of them, my heart stood still. talking with the pair was a well set-up, alert man whose back was turned to me--a man in a soft grey felt hat and heavy travelling coat with beaver collar. both men were speaking quickly, eagerly, telling the new-comer something of an urgent nature, being hustled at the same time by the bustling passengers eager to claim their luggage from the customs barriers, and get away. i moved a little distance along, recognising in the man just returned from the continent the grey, thin, sinister face of kershaw kirk. my first impulse was to rush forward and demand of him the truth; indeed, to charge him with a secret crime, and to insist on knowing the whereabouts of my beloved mabel. but it struck me at that instant that the two men who had met him had agreed between themselves upon a course of secrecy, and that they were therefore misleading him. had not ethelwynn already told me of langton's suspicion of this man, who was to me and mine such a mystery? therefore i held back for the moment, awaiting my opportunity. standing beyond the barrier where the baggage was being sorted, ready for the customs examinations, i watched the trio from my unseen point of vantage. i doubt that either would have recognised me in those greasy mechanic's clothes of mine. within myself i felt a sense of complete satisfaction. kirk had returned to england, and was therefore now within the jurisdiction of the law, however much he might pretend to be immune from its penalties. what flynn was saying evidently caused him to hesitate. he was thoughtful for a single moment, but next second shrugged his shoulders, with a gesture of disregard. a taxi drew up close to where i stood, and i engaged him, telling him to wait. to my satisfaction i saw it was the same driver who had brought me along from piccadilly. then, as i watched, i saw something which caused me to reflect. a porter, quickly recognising kirk, took from him his baggage ticket and foraged out a big, battered kit-bag which had been placed upon the bench ready for the argus eye of his majesty's customs. the porter uttered a word to the revenue officer and pointed to the bag, whereupon the officer chalked it without opening it. kirk's name, it seemed, was as a _laisser-passer_ at charing cross. who was this man that his belongings should be exempt from customs' examination? he looked much travel-worn, yet presented the same active, alert figure that i had seen passing and repassing before my house. no longer shabby or down-at-heel, however, he had, on the contrary, looked beaming and prosperous until those two men had imparted the information which had, in an instant, caused his brow to cloud, and he became serious and pensive. the old brown kit-bag bearing many hotel labels was placed upon a taxi, which the three men entered and drove away, i following close upon them. half-way up st. james's street they pulled up at boodle's, where all three entered. which of the three, i wondered, was a member of that most exclusive and old-fashioned institution? they remained there nearly half an hour, when kirk emerged, and, bidding good night to his friends at the kerb, re-entered the taxi and drove to whitehall court, that large block of flats which overlooks the embankment close to northumberland avenue. here the liveried porter saluted him respectfully and carried his bag to the lift, up which a few minutes later he disappeared. in my mechanic's attire i was now placed at a great disadvantage. any inquiry i might make of the gorgeous attendant would, i knew, only arouse suspicion, but a thought instantly occurred to me. the friendly driver of my taxi, believing that i, a motor man, had been swindled, might perhaps help me. we had pulled up at the corner where, in a few brief sentences, i now explained to him that i was anxious to know whether kirk resided there in his own name. "i'll inquire for you, mate, if you like," declared the taxi-driver cheerily. "you just wait here." and while i mounted guard over his cab, the red-moustached driver went along to the entrance to the flats. i saw him in conversation with the lift man, and when presently he returned he said: "the gentleman just gone in is mr. seymour, who lives on the third floor. he's abroad very often, it seems, and is only just back. he's lived there a couple of years." now i recollected that kirk, when we had sat together that first night in bedford park, had told me that he possessed another home, and i had now run him to earth. whitehall court is an expensive place of residence. apartments there seemed far beyond his income as he appeared when he passed my house, shabby, broken-down, and often hungry-looking. i gave my friend the taxi-man half a crown beyond his legal fare and dismissed him, afterwards walking as far as the entrance to the national liberal club, trying to decide how next to act. to face the fellow boldly and unflinchingly was, i recognised, the only way in which to gain the knowledge i sought. yet in the garb of a mechanic, was i not much handicapped? nevertheless, i walked back, and, finding the hall porter, gave my name as flynn, and asked to see mr. seymour upon important business. after a wait of nearly ten minutes a man in uniform came and ushered me up in the lift to the third floor, where, having traversed a long, thickly-carpeted corridor, he opened a door and allowed me to pass across the small well-furnished hall of the flat into a sitting-room, where i found myself again face to face with my mysterious neighbour. he started at sight of me, but so perfect an actor was he that in a second he had recovered himself, and inquired with affected friendliness: "why, my dear holford, why in the name of fate did you send up your name as flynn?" "because i wished to see you, mr. kirk," was my hard response, for we were now alone together in that cosy, sumptuously-furnished sitting-room, through the windows of which i could see the dark flowing thames and the row of gleaming lights on the surrey shore beyond. "i knew," i added, "that if i had sent up my own name i should not be received." "why?" he asked, opening his eyes widely. "i don't follow you. surely you have acted as a good friend to me, therefore why shouldn't i receive you? i've only this very moment returned from abroad. who told you i was back again?" "no one. i obtained the knowledge for myself," i said, "and i have come here, mr. kirk, for several reasons, the chief being to ask you a simple and pointed question: who killed professor greer?" "my dear sir," he exclaimed, looking straight at me with unwavering gaze, a slight change, however, showing in his thin, grey countenance, "that is the very problem that i myself am trying to solve--but in vain." "an impostor is passing himself off as greer," i declared. "is he?" asked kirk quietly. "i was not aware of that." "not aware of it!" i cried in angry dismay. "do you actually deny, then, that you are acquainted with this man who has taken the personality and honours of professor greer upon himself in order to preserve the secret of the unfortunate scientist's death?" "i deny being aware of any person attempting to pass himself off as greer," was my mysterious neighbour's bold and unflinching reply. had i not sent that telegram from broadstairs and signed it kirk, and had not its receipt caused the false professor quickly to change his quarters? kirk's reply staggered me. "look here," i exclaimed again, raising my voice in anger at this open denial of what i knew to be the truth, "on the night of your escape from sussex place, the house was searched, and i found evidences of all traces of the crime having been effaced in the furnace of the laboratory." "i know," was his simple response. "i was quite well aware of that. i hope, however, holford, that you have kept your promise and kept a still tongue." "to a certain extent, yes." "you told langton nothing, i trust?" he asked anxiously. "why are you in such mortal fear of langton?" i demanded hotly, halting before him as he stood on the hearthrug coolly surveying me, with his back to the fire. "my dear fellow," he answered, "pray calm yourself. have a drink, and let's discuss this matter amicably from a purely business-like standpoint. surely when i invoked your aid i did not commit a grave error of judgment? you have been judicious throughout, i hope? you have not forgotten the great issues which i explained depended upon your silence?" "my silence you shall command no longer, mr. kirk!" i cried, suddenly interrupting him. "i've been silent far too long." "ah!" he remarked, still unruffled. "i see. well, your attitude is quite justifiable, my dear sir--quite. you have lost your wife, i understand." "yes," i said, advancing towards him a couple of paces in a manner which i now believe must have appeared threatening. "and you know more about the trap into which my poor wife has been led than anybody else. that is why i'm here to-night--to compel you to speak--you crafty old cur!" "my dear holford, why--what's the matter?" he asked, even then quite unperturbed. "now if i did not know you so well i might easily be annoyed, but i'm not. no doubt the loss of mrs. holford has seriously upset you." and the fellow actually smiled at this. i grew furious. the mysterious man's eyes gleamed with a triumphant light, and his pale lips parted, revealing his pointed teeth. "you make pretence of ignorance!" i cried. "you think that i believe you when you say you know nothing of where she is, but--" "i assure you, holford, that these suspicions of myself are entirely groundless. i have no knowledge whatever of the lady. i have seen her once or twice at her dining-room window, it is true." "and yet i've been out to florence, to the grand bretagne, where i was informed that you had been in her company!" was my hasty reply. "i can't help what cock-and-bull story you've been told by an italian hotel-keeper. they are notorious for their untruths, as you would discover if you travelled as much up and down italy as i do," he said with an evil grin. "i can only tell you, once and for all, that i have no knowledge whatever of your wife's present whereabouts." "then who has?" "how can i tell, my dear sir? you ask me a riddle. on my arrival at charing cross an hour ago one of my friends who met me told me of mrs. holford's sudden journey abroad and her disappearance into space. the story set me wondering as to the motive of the plot--for plot it undoubtedly must be. mrs. holford and yourself, i am told, are devoted to each other. there is no reason for her leaving you, is there?" "understand this, kirk," i said. "i've been fooled quite long enough. as my wife has been enticed away, and is held aloof in some unknown place, i give you full and ample warning of my intention. it is to go straight to the police, and while invoking their aid to try and find her, at the same time to tell them the whole story of the affair at sussex place, just as i know it." the man half turned from me and bit his thin under-lip. his grey, furrowed countenance had become even more grey and more determined, while in his eyes i saw an evil glitter. "ah! you've been trying to seek solution of the mystery for yourself. i know all about that!" he laughed hollowly. "but, as you are aware of only half the tangled skein of mysterious facts, it is hardly likely that you'll succeed, do you think? did i not tell you to remain silent and inactive? instead of that, you've been chattering and trying to act the part of amateur detective. it was fatal. because of that--and for that reason alone--the misfortune has been placed upon you." "what misfortune?" "the loss of your wife. it has occupied your mind in another way, just as it was intended by your enemies it should do." "and yours is the master mind, mr. kirk, which has planned this subtle revenge," i exclaimed, my eager hands clenched in frantic desperation. "because i disobeyed your extraordinary injunctions mabel has been taken from me. you may as well admit the whole truth now at once." "i admit nothing," he answered, drawing himself up defiantly. "then, by heaven, i'll force you to speak--to tell me where she is!" i shouted, as i raised my hands with a sudden movement. and then, before he could ward me off, my fingers closed upon his hard, bony throat. i was desperate. nay, in the presence of that sphinx-like, taciturn adventurer whom i now knew to be my enemy, i was mad. yes, mad, or surely i would never have dared to lay hands upon him. chapter twenty two. defiance proves defence. i had, i confess, allowed my anger to rise above my gorge. that action of mine in attacking kirk was both ill-timed and very injudicious, for in an instant--before even those frantic words had left my lips--i found myself looking down the ugly black barrel of a big browning revolver, that most effective and deadly of all man-killing weapons. "kindly release me, holford," he said, rather hoarsely and with some difficulty, as my muscular fingers had closed upon his scraggy throat. "come, this is all very foolish! let me go! i have no desire to harm you," he added, quite calmly. "then tell me where i can find my wife," i repeated. "i would--if i could." "tell me who can!" i demanded fiercely, my fingers still closed upon his throat, so that he breathed only with great difficulty. "give me time--time to make--inquiry!" he gasped. "i've only just returned, and am in ignorance of a great deal of what has transpired." "upon your own admission, mabel has fallen a victim of a plot merely because i became too active and too inquisitive. you feared lest i might discover something." "i have admitted nothing, my dear sir!" he cried. "one day you will withdraw all these malicious words--mark me," he added, in a hard voice, lowering his weapon and replacing it in his hip-pocket as i released my convulsive grip. "i've lost my wife, mr. kirk, and you know where she is," i said. "in that you are quite mistaken," he declared. "as i've already explained, i've not yet had opportunity for making inquiry. i believed," he added in reproach, "that you would assist me in this strange affair concerning professor greer. yet my confidence in you, holford, has been sadly misplaced. recall for one moment what i told you--of the seriousness of what was at stake, and of the absolute necessity for complete secrecy. yet to-night you threaten to bungle the whole affair by going to the police." "i've lost my wife!" i interrupted. "she's the victim of some plot or other, and it is to find her that i intend to invoke the aid of scotland yard." "well, by adopting that course, you would not find her--but you'd lose her," was the old fellow's brief response. "antonio told me the very same thing when we met in rome!" i exclaimed. "your threat shows me that you are in league in this conspiracy of silence." kershaw kirk burst out laughing, as though he considered my anger a huge joke. it annoyed me that he did not take me seriously, and that he regarded the loss of mabel so lightly. "look here, mr. holford," he said at last, looking straight into my face. "it's plain that you suspect me of being the assassin of professor greer. that being so, i've nothing more to say. yet i would ask you to regard the present situation both logically and calmly. do you for one moment suppose that were i guilty i would have taken you to sussex place and explained the whole affair in detail? is it, indeed, to be supposed that i would place myself so entirely and completely in the hands of a stranger?" i shook my head dubiously. "well," he went on, "i repeat to you now all that i told you that night, and assert that all i told you was the truth." "but how do you account for ethelwynn being still alive?" i interrupted quickly. "there is an explanation of that," he declared; "one that you will probably be told very shortly. fortunately, the poor girl was not dead, though i confess i was entirely deceived by the symptoms. you will remember that the mirror remained unclouded by her breath?" "i remember every incident, alas! only too vividly," was my slow, distinct reply. "but," i asked very pointedly, "pray tell me, mr. kirk, what was your object in calling upon me and inducing me to go to sussex place?" he thrust his hands into his trousers pockets and smiled. "an ulterior one--as you may imagine. but one which was as much in your interests as in ours." "ours!" i echoed. "you mean you and your accomplices?" "call them so, if you wish," he laughed. "i, unfortunately, am not in a position to enlighten you upon the actual reason i invoked your aid." "and your action has only brought upon me a great misfortune--bitter despair, and the loss of the woman i loved!" i cried, dismayed. "ah!" he said. "you judge me a little too hastily, mr. holford. it is your failing, mr. holford, that you are given to rushing to premature conclusions. that is always fatal in any delicate negotiation. when you've had my experience--that of a traveller and thorough-going cosmopolitan--you will learn how to repress your own opinions until they are fully and entirely corroborated." i looked into the grey face of the clever adventurer, and there saw craft, cunning, and an ingenuity that was superhuman. a look was in his eyes such as i had never before seen in those of any human being. "but i am in search of my wife!" i cried frantically. "i am in no mood to hear this philosophy of yours." "well--how do you know she is not here--in london?" he asked, waving his thin hand towards the window where showed the glimmering lights of the thames bank. to the right, where i stood, i could see the gleam of electric light from the summit of big ben, showing that the house, which had assembled only a few days before, was sitting late after the christmas recess. "i suppose you wish to mislead me into the idea that she is back again in london, hiding from me, eh?" i exclaimed resentfully. "no, mr. kirk, i tell you plainly that i've had enough of this tragic comedy of yours, i've watched you this evening with your precious friends, flynn and langton." "and, pray, why should i not possess friends?" he asked, looking at me with some surprise. "to me langton denied all knowledge of you." "well--and am i to be blamed for langton's pretended ignorance?" "no; but it shows me that you are not dealing with me in a straightforward manner!" i declared, without mincing words. but the strange old fellow only laughed. "my dear sir," he said a few moments afterwards, "i can quite understand your distrust of me, therefore it is as well that i hesitated to place a further confidence in you. you might have betrayed it." "betrayed it!" i echoed angrily. "have you not betrayed me? is it not due to you, and you alone, that my wife is missing?" "that i emphatically deny, my dear sir," he replied, still quite unperturbed. "but why let us discuss it? any denial of mine you'll regard as false. it's a great pity that my judgment led me to seek your aid. had you carried out my request and refrained from prying into matters which did not concern you, you might have found it to your distinct advantage." "you mean that i should have profited pecuniarily by concealing the fact that professor greer is dead and that an impostor has assumed his identity? you intended that i also should be an accomplice of the assassin!" "no--not exactly," he replied with an evil, triumphant grin. "but, really, my dear sir," he added, "i've had a very long journey, and i'm tired. is it any use prolonging this argument?" "not unless you wish!" i snapped. "i have given you full warning of my intention to reveal the whole affair to the police." "ah! then that will be very unfortunate--for you," replied the queer old man; "and for your wife most of all." "yes, i know. you intend to bring disaster upon me and upon her if i dare to go to scotland yard!" i cried. in my ignorance of the truth i believed my threats would be of avail. ah, had i but known the actual facts, how differently would i have acted! but surely that enigma was one that was beyond human power to elucidate. upon every hand i found complications. plot lay within plot--all directed against myself and against poor innocent mabel, who had flown to me on receipt of what she had believed to be my urgent telegram. "my intentions, mr. holford, entirely depend upon your actions," said kirk, very plainly. "if you are foolish--well, then i cannot guarantee the safety of your wife. my advice to you, however, is to recall all i told you, believe in the truth of my statements, and act with slow discretion." "but my wife?" i cried. "i must--i will save her. she is in peril, i am sure of that!" "she may be in grave peril if you go to the police," he said enigmatically; "and, believe me, they cannot assist us in the least to discover who killed professor greer." "why?" kirk hesitated. in that pause i scented an intention further to prevent me from speaking. "well, regard the matter calmly and without prejudice," he said at last. "as a matter of fact, what evidence is there that the professor is dead?" "evidence!" i cried. "why, did not you and i see him dead? did not his daughter stand before his lifeless body?" "ah, she would never tell what she saw!" he said, with a mysterious smile. "why not?" i asked, much surprised at his remark. but my mysterious neighbour only shrugged his shoulders vaguely, answering: "there is a reason why she will never admit his death--a strong reason." "well," i said, "i recovered from the ashes of the furnace certain remains--coat buttons and other scraps of clothing." "and you think they would be accepted as evidence that professor greer was done to death?" he laughed. "you are evidently unaware of the great caution exercised by the criminal investigation department in accepting any evidence such as that which you could furnish. no," he added, "only antonio and ethelwynn were the actual witnesses, in addition to ourselves, of the professor's tragic end. and as they refuse to admit that he is dead, any information you may lodge at scotland yard must only reflect upon yourself and bring greater peril upon mrs. holford. i simply tell you the truth--believe me, or believe me not." "well," i exclaimed, "i disbelieve you, mr. kirk." "then i wish you good evening!" he exclaimed abruptly. "act as you think proper!" he added defiantly, as, turning from me in disregard he walked to his large writing-table, where he took up some letters, at the same time singing, with that careless cosmopolitan air of his, lucien fugere's popular _chanson_, which at the moment one heard everywhere in the streets of paris. "then that's your last word, eh, mr. kirk?" i asked when he had concluded the verse. "it is," he replied determinedly. "if you must act as a fool, then i can't assist you further. good night!" and he sat down and busied himself with his accumulated correspondence. i now realised that he was utterly defiant, and thoughts of my loss of mabel caused my blood to boil within me. his light, careless manner irritated me beyond measure. "very well," i cried. "good night, mr. kirk!" and turning swiftly upon my heel, i left the room and found my way down the great staircase and out into whitehall. too late at that hour to call at new scotland yard, close by, i hailed a hansom and drove straight home, almost beside myself with rage at the calm, unruffled, defiant attitude with which the adventurer had met me. next morning, after writing some letters, i went round to the garage, where i found pelham, somewhat excited. "this morning, when i arrived at eight o'clock," he said. "i found awaiting me a rather shabbily-dressed old man who said he wanted to see an eckhardt tyre. recollecting my previous experiences of people who've come in to handle them, i told him that if he wished to buy one i could sell him one, but i hadn't time to waste on sightseers. whereupon the old fellow promptly paid for a cover before seeing it, and took it away on a cab which he had waiting." "well?" i asked, rather, surprised. "and who was he?" "that's the curious point. he was an old chap i've seen about the neighbourhood many times--thin, rather shabby and disreputable, grey hair and moustache--lives in your road, i think. drake says you know him." "kershaw kirk!" i gasped. "yes; that's the name drake said before he went out with the `sixty,'" replied my manager. "what does he want with a tyre when he hasn't got a car?" i stood in silence. what, indeed, did that man want with one of the new tyres? had he merely come down there to have further words with me, or did he require a cover for some specific purpose? my mind, however, was made up. i had resolved to go to new scotland yard, and, even though tardily, to place the whole of the facts before the criminal investigation department. therefore i got out the "forty-eight" and drove along the hammersmith road and knightsbridge, across st. james's park, and through storey's gate to whitehall. i alighted in the big courtyard of the police headquarters, where a number of motor-'buses were drawn up for inspection, and entered the large stone hall, when a constable came forward to inquire my business. i handed him my card, explaining that i wished to see one of the detective inspectors upon a confidential matter, and was shown upstairs and along a wide corridor to a bare waiting-room. for some ten minutes i remained there, when the door opened, and i found myself face to face with a middle-aged, pleasant-faced man, who was one of the most noted and experienced officers of the department. for a moment i held my breath. i recollected all the threats that had been made of mabel's peril if i dared to speak the truth. the detective-inspector closed the door behind him, and, wishing me a polite "good morning," inquired my business. i told him. yes; i blurted forth the truth, and made a clean breast of the whole matter. but the instant i had done so i bitterly repented it. i realised something which i had not before recognised. i saw that, even though my dear wife were missing and in peril, i was a fool--an utter idiot--for having dared to breathe a word. my injudicious statement had only rendered the enigma still more complicated than hitherto. chapter twenty three. the unexpected happens. the shrewd officer seated at the table with me, a pen in his hand, heard my narrative to the end, now and then making brief memoranda. presently he exclaimed: "would you kindly excuse me? i'd like another gentleman to hear this story." and he rose and left. a few minutes later he returned with a rather taller, clean-shaven man, slightly younger, who had on a dark overcoat and carried a silk hat in his hand. "this is mr. holford," said the first officer, introducing me. "he's just told me a very remarkable story, which i'd like you to hear for a moment." then, turning to me, he asked me to repeat briefly what i had alleged. the new-comer, seating himself, listened attentively to every word which fell from my lips. i noticed that he exchanged curious glances with his brother officer. "your main reason, then, for telling us this story is in order to compel those responsible for your wife's absence to reveal her whereabouts, i take it?" asked the younger man. "exactly." "the false telegram was dispatched from turin, eh?" "yes. cannot you communicate with the italian police concerning it?" "and pray what good would result?" he queried. "after long delay we might perchance get the original of the telegram, but i don't see that that would assist us very far. when people send bogus messages they generally disguise their handwriting." "well, i leave it to you to take what steps you like to assist me," i said. "my sole object is to find my lost wife." "naturally, my dear sir," observed the officer. "we'll first take down your statement in writing." and then the man i had first seen wrote at my dictation a brief summary of the mysterious death of professor greer and its attendant complications and my suspicion of kershaw kirk. "well, we'll place this before the commissioner to-day. perhaps you'll call to-morrow; say about this time. we will then let you know our opinion and our intentions." with that i was compelled to be satisfied, and i left the waiting-room full of hope that by that bold move of mine i might gain knowledge of the whereabouts of my well-beloved. how i existed throughout that day i cannot tell. i tried to attend to my business, but in vain. i was wondering what action was being taken by my sinister-faced neighbour who lived in whitehall court under another name, and who seemed to possess a dual personality. at last the hour came when again i turned the car into scotland yard, and once more was ushered upstairs into that bare waiting-room wherein so many stories of crime are related. presently, after a lengthy wait, the two officers entered together and greeted me. "well," commenced the elder of the pair with some slight hesitation, "we've placed your statement before the commissioner, mr. holford, and he has very carefully considered it. he has, however, decided that it is not a matter for our department." "what?" i gasped. "a man can be foully done to death here in london, and yet the police refuse to believe the story of an honest man--a man who is a witness!" "we do not doubt you in the least degree, mr. holford," the other assured me, speaking very quietly. "but you do!" i exclaimed in quick anger. "i've told you that a crime has been perpetrated." "my dear sir," said the officer, "we get many startling stories told here almost hourly, and if we inquired into the truth of them all, why, we'd require a department as big as the whole of whitehall." "what i told you yesterday is so strange and extraordinary that you believe i'm a madman," i said. "i see it in your faces." "excuse me, but that is not the point," he protested. "we are only officers, mr. holford. we are not the commander. the chief has given his decision, and we are compelled to obey, however much we may regret our inaction." "so you refuse your aid in assisting me to find my wife?" "no. if we can help you to discover mrs. holford, we willingly will. perhaps you'll kindly give us her description, and we'll at once circulate it through all our channels, both here and abroad. but," added the man, "i must first tell you that we can hold out very little hope. the number of missing wives reported to us, both here at headquarters and at the various local stations in the metropolitan area, is sometimes dozens in a day. most of the ladies have, we find on inquiry, gone away of their own accord." "but this case is different. my wife has not!" i asserted. "she has been enticed away by a telegram purporting to come from me." "and that's really nothing unusual. we have heard of ladies arranging with other people to send urgent messages in the names of their husbands. it is an easy way of escape sometimes." and he smiled rather grimly. "then, to put it plainly, i've nothing to hope for from you?" i snapped. "very little, i fear, sir." "and this is our police system which was only recently so highly commended by the royal commission of inquiry!" i blurted forth. "it's a scandal!" "it is not for us to make any comment, my dear mr. holford," said the elder of the two officers. "the commissioner himself decides what action we take upon information we may receive. i dare say," he added, "our decision in this case does appear to you somewhat strange, but-- well, i may as well point out that there is a special feature in it which does not appear to you--an outsider." "what special feature can there be, pray? a well-known man has been assassinated. surely, therefore, it is the duty of the police to stir themselves and make every inquiry!" "we have only your statement for that. as far as we or the public are aware, professor greer is travelling somewhere on the continent." "but, if you disbelieve me, go to kershaw kirk, in whitehall court, or to the professor's daughter down at broadstairs, or to pietro merli, who keeps a newsagent's in the euston road. each of these persons knows the truth, and would speak--if compelled." "the commissioner has had all those names before him, but in face of that he has decided not to enter into this matter. his decision," said the officer, "is irrevocable." "then our police system is a perfect farce!" i cried. "no wonder, indeed, we have in london a host of undiscovered crimes! the man kirk laughed at you here as blunderers!" i added. but the pair only exchanged glances and grinned, causing me increased anger. "in any other city but london the police would, upon my information, at once institute inquiry!" i declared. "i'm a tax-payer, and am entitled to assistance and protection." "we have already offered to assist you to discover the whereabouts of mrs. holford," the elder man pointed out politely. "then inquire of this man kirk, or seymour, as he calls himself, in whitehall court," i said. "he can tell you where she is--if he chooses." "you suspect him of having a hand in her disappearance? why?" inquired the other detective officer. i related clearly and succinctly the facts upon which my belief was based and of the description given of my wife's companion by the hotel-manager in florence. the officer slowly shook his head. "that's scarcely conclusive, is it? the description is but a vague one, after all." "well," i said bitterly as i rose, "if you refuse to assist me, i must, i suppose, seek redress elsewhere. may i see the commissioner myself?" "you can make formal application, if you like. but i don't expect he will see you. he has already fully considered the matter." and that was all the satisfaction accorded me. "then i'll do something!" i cried. "i'll get a question asked in the house. it's a scandal that, with professor greer killed in his own home, you refuse to bestir yourselves. after all, it seems quite true, as has been recently alleged, that the police are nowadays so fully occupied in regulating the speed of motor-cars that they have no time for the investigation of crime." i noticed that at my threat to have a question asked in the house, one of the officers pulled a rather wry face. the metropolitan police were not fond, i knew, of questions being put about them. i chanced to know rather intimately a member for a country division, though to get the question put would necessitate my explaining the whole affair. yet was not mabel's liberty--nay, perhaps her very life--at stake? "you've told us very little regarding this friend of yours, mr. kershaw kirk, whom you appear to suspect so strongly," the younger of the two men remarked at last. "who is he?" "an adventurer," i replied quickly. "i have no doubt whatever upon that point." the man pursed his lips dubiously. "may it not be that you are somewhat prejudiced against him?" he ventured to suggest. "no. he was in the house at the time when the professor's body was cremated in his own furnace. if you went to sussex place you would probably discover some remains among the ashes." "do you allege, then, that you were an actual witness of the cremation?" asked the officer. "no; i found him in the house." "and, later on, you discovered the furnace alight, eh?" "yes." "then it is only a surmise on your part, after all, my dear sir," remarked the detective, twisting a pen between his fingers as his dark eyes were fixed upon mine. "the actual evidence is really _nil_. that is just the view taken by the commissioner." "but my wife is in the hands of the assassins," i cried. "you can't deny that!" "is there any actual, evidence of it? none, as far as we can see," he declared. "would it not be natural for your wife, on failing to find you in florence, either to wire to her sister at home or to return home at once? she did neither, which only goes far to prove that she did not desire to return to london." "you suggest that she has purposely left me?" i cried, staring at the man in a frenzy of angry resentment. "i suggest nothing, mr. holford. pray don't misunderstand me. i merely put before you the facts in order to obtain a logical conclusion. only one can be arrived at--she had some motive for not returning to her home. if she had, then how are we to find her? she would, no doubt, purposely cover her tracks." "but she was with that man, the man who--" "and that just bears out my argument," interrupted the detective. "but may she not have been prevented from sending any message home?" i suggested, though that very point he had made had, i confess, been the one which had continually obsessed me. both the detectives shook their heads. "no," replied the elder of the two. "we are both agreed, as the commissioner also believes, that your wife would not be held a prisoner. criminals do not hold women prisoners nowadays, except in works of fiction. no," he added, "depend upon it, mr. holford, when you discover the truth, you will find that your wife was acquainted with one or other of these friends of yours, and that her disappearance was part of a plan." the story of the message received by mabel while i was in scotland flashed across my mind. i recollected all that gwen had so guardedly related to me. but i stirred myself quickly. no, a thousand times no! i would never believe evil of mabel before i had absolute proof in black and white. the mystery of her disappearance was as great and inexplicable as the problem of who killed professor greer? chapter twenty four. two men consult. beside myself with fear and anxiety regarding the woman i loved so well, i again called that very same evening upon kirk at whitehall court, but on doing so was informed by the lift-man that he was out. a suggestion then occurred to me that he might have gone over to his other abode at bedford park, therefore i returned, and at last knocked at his door. his sister answered my summons, and saying that her brother was at home, ushered me into his presence. i found him in his old velvet jacket seated in his high-backed arm-chair before a glowing fire, his pet parrot near him; and as i entered he greeted me coldly, without deigning to shake my hand. "well, holford," he exclaimed, stretching his slippered feet lazily towards the fire, "so you have, after all, proved a traitor, eh?" "a traitor? how?" i asked, standing near the fireplace and facing him. "you have been telling some extraordinary stories about me at scotland yard, i hear," he said with a grin. "ah!" i cried. "then you are a detective, after all? my surmise was right from the first!" "no," he replied very quietly, "you were quite wrong, my dear sir; i'm not a detective, neither professional nor amateur, nor have i anything whatever to do with scotland yard. they may be sad blunderers there, but they do not accept every cock-and-bull story that may be told them." "i told them no cock-and-bull story!" i protested angrily. "i told them the actual truth!" "and that after all the warnings i have given you!" he said in a tone of bitterest reproach. "ah! you are unaware of the extreme gravity of that act of yours. you have broken faith with me, holford, and by doing so, have, i fear, brought upon me, as upon others, a great calamity." "but you are so mysterious. you have never been open and above-board with me!" i declared. "you are full of mystery." "did i not tell you on the first evening you sat here with me that i was a dealer in secrets?" he asked, blowing a cloud of smoke from his cigar. "no, holford," went on my mysterious neighbour, very seriously, "you are like most other men--far too inquisitive. had you been able to repress your curiosity, and at the same time preserve your pledge of secrecy, matters to-day would have been vastly different, and, acting in concert, we might have been able to solve this extraordinary enigma of professor greer's death. but now you've been and made all sorts of wild statements to the commissioner of police. well, it has stultified all my efforts." he spoke with such an air of injured innocence that i hesitated whether i had not, after all, somewhat misjudged him. yet as i looked into that grey, crafty face i could not help doubting him. it was true that he had taken me into his confidence, but was it not done only for his own ingenious and devilish purpose? "my wife is lost," i observed at last. "it is her loss that has, perhaps, led me to say more than i would otherwise have done." "and love for your wife makes you forget your word of honour given to me, eh?" he asked. "your code of honour is distinctly peculiar, mr. holford," he added, with biting sarcasm. "i, of course, regret that mrs. holford has fallen a victim to the machinations of our enemies, but surely even that is no excuse for a man to act treacherously towards his friend." "that is not the point," i declared. "you have never satisfied me as to your motive in taking me to sussex place and exhibiting to me the evidence of the crime." "because--well, because, had i done so, you would not have understood. some day, perhaps, you will know; and when you learn the truth you will be even more astounded than you are to-day. meanwhile, i can assure you that you suspect me entirely without cause." "then why were you in the house at the time the traces of the crime were being effaced in the furnace?" i asked in a hard voice. he hesitated for a moment, and i thought his bony hand trembled slightly. "for reason's of my own," he replied at last. "you allowed me to wriggle out of a very tight corner, and i intended to show you my gratitude, had you given me an opportunity." "i desire no expression of gratitude, mr. kirk," i replied, with dignified disgust. "all i require is a statement from you concerning the whereabouts of my dear wife. give me that, and i'm satisfied to retire from the whole affair altogether." "because you have now realised that scotland yard refuse their assistance, eh?" he asked, with an evil grin. "are you not now agreed with me that our much-praised criminal investigation department, with all its hide-bound rules and its tangle of red tape, is useless? it is not the men who are at fault--for some of them are the finest and best fellows in the whole metropolis--but the system which is radically wrong." i was bound, after my experience, to agree with him. but again i referred to mabel, and to the manner in which she had been decoyed from home. "you hear that, joseph?" he exclaimed, turning to his feathered pet, who had been chatting and screeching as we had been speaking. "this gentleman suspects your master, joseph. what do you say?" "you're a fool for your pains! you're a fool for your pains!" declared the bird. "poor jo-sef! poor jo-sef wants to go to bed!" "be quiet! you'll go to bed presently," answered the queer, grey visaged, sphinx-like man, who, turning again towards me, and looking me straight in the face, once more assured me that i was foolish in my misapprehension of the truth. "to me it really does not matter who killed professor greer, or who has usurped his place in the world of science," i said. "my only aim now is to recover my lost wife. antonio, when i met him in rome, was anxious that, in exchange for information concerning her, i should consent to keep a still tongue as to what had occurred in sussex place." "rubbish, my dear sir!"--and kirk laughed heartily. "what can antonio possibly know? he's as ignorant and innocent of the whole affair as you are yourself." "how do you know that, pray?" "well, am i not endeavouring to elucidate the mystery?" he asked. "and you know more than you will tell me?" i said. "perhaps--just a little." "yet you desire that i should still trust you implicitly, that i should give myself into your hands blindly and unreservedly--you, who lead this dual existence! in whitehall court you are a wealthy man of leisure, while here you pose as shabby and needy." "i may be shabby, mr. holford, for certain purposes--but needy never! i have, i'm thankful to say, quite sufficient for my wants," he exclaimed, correcting me. "and as for my dual existence, as you term it, have i ever endeavoured to conceal it from you?" "tell me--once and for all--are you aware of my wife's whereabouts?" i demanded in frantic anxiety. "can't you see that this suspense is turning my brain?" "yes, it is very unfortunate--and still more unfortunate that i can afford you no satisfaction. the fact of mrs. holford's prolonged absence is as great a mystery to me as to yourself." "scotland yard will render me no help," i said in bitter chagrin. "probably not--after the amazing story you told them," was his rather spiteful response. "what am i to do?" "remain patient and watchful," he said. "believe in me, and try and persuade yourself that, after all, i'm not an assassin," he smiled. i held my breath for a few seconds. here was the crux of the whole matter. he was still cleverly and ingeniously endeavouring to lead me into a false sense of security--to make me believe that he was innocent of all knowledge of that most astounding tragedy in sussex place. ah! his was indeed a clever ruse. but my eyes were now opened, so i only smiled within myself at the futility of his crafty and clever attempt further to mislead and cheat me. a man was with my wife, passing himself off as myself--henry holford, motor engineer. and yet i could look to no one for counsel, advice, or aid! now that the police had refused to inquire into the death of poor greer, the attitude of my weird, grey-faced neighbour had become more defiant. he was full of bitter reproaches, yet at the same time entirely heedless of my future actions. once or twice while speaking to me he turned, as was his habit, to joseph the parrot, addressing asides to his pet, causing the bird to screech noisily, grow excited, and make idiotic responses. "mark me, mr. holford," he said at length, "you did a most foolish thing to betray me to scotland yard. in you i'm most disappointed, i assure you. my confidence was misplaced." "i understand you've been to my garage and in my absence purchased an eckhardt tyre," i remarked. "well?" he said, opening his eyes slightly. "i only came down to see you, but when i found you absent i bought a tyre as an excuse." "and you expect me to believe that, eh?" i asked, with a dry laugh. "you can believe it or not believe it, just as you think fit," was his quick reply. "i have no use for motor-tyres, not possessing a car." i grinned in disbelief, recollecting the air of secrecy with which he had examined the tyre on the first occasion he had called upon me, and also the effect produced upon him later when i told him of the two other men who had called to inspect the tyre. i think i remained with him for nearly an hour. then, after he had told me that his intention was to stay in england, at least for the present, i left him and walked back to my desolate home, where, gwen having retired, i sat for a further hour in my den, deeply thinking. that kirk was in some secret way in association with the bogus professor was plain. was it not, then, more than likely that they would ere long meet again? if i kept a wary eye upon him, i might, i saw, discover something of great interest. who could this man be who led a dual existence for no apparent cause; this man who was narrow-minded and penurious in bedford park, yet was wealthy and open-handed in whitehall court? as i calmly reviewed the whole extraordinary situation i saw that, in turn, i mistrusted the whole of the actors in that bewildering drama. ethelwynn, the calm, sweet, clear-eyed girl, so content in her great love for leonard langton, though she had actually witnessed her father lying dead and cold, yet now refused to presume his death! why? doctor flynn i disliked instinctively; langton was evidently playing a double game, having denied all knowledge of kirk, whereas the latter was his friend; antonio and pietro were away; while kirk himself, silent and cunning, was pretending a complete ignorance which was only ill-feigned. and the most important point of all was that not a breath of suspicion of the professor's death had yet leaked out to the public. thus, utterly bewildered, i again retired to rest. early astir next morning, i set watch upon kirk's movements, assisted by dick drake, my clean-shaven, bullet-headed chauffeur. a few moments before eleven he came forth, thinly clad and shabby, as he generally appeared in chiswick, and, walking to ravenscourt park station, took a third-class ticket to westminster, whence he walked to a rather grimy house situate in page street, a poor neighbourhood lying behind the abbey. there he remained for some time, after which, fearing lest he should recognise me, i directed drake to follow him, and returned to the garage. at six that evening my man returned, tired and hungry, reporting that kirk had gone to a house in foley street, tottenham court road, the number of which he gave me, and after ten minutes there he had eaten his luncheon at a bar in oxford street. then he had taken train from holborn viaduct to shortlands, near bromley, where he had made a call at a small villa residence not far from the station. the door of the house had been opened by a tall, thin man in a dark blue jersey, who, he said, had the appearance of a foreigner, and kirk had stayed inside for nearly two hours. when at last he came out, the tall man had walked with him to the station, and bade him adieu on the platform. "but," added drake, "that gentleman's a pretty 'cute one, sir. he spotted me." "h'm, that's unfortunate," i said. "you were a bit too bold, i fear." of course i had told him nothing of the reason why i was watching the man who had evinced such interest in the eckhardt tyre. "i exercised all the caution possible," drake declared, "but he doubled back upon me down at shortlands and thus tricked me. he didn't say anything, but only laughed in my face." the story of the foreigner at the villa at shortlands struck me as somewhat remarkable, and i resolved to go there on the morrow and investigate. i now held all kershaw kirk's movements in suspicion. next day i rose with the fixed intention of going at once down to shortlands, that district of suburban villadom, but hardly had i risen from the table where i had breakfasted in silence with gwen, when something occurred to turn the tide of events into an entirely different channel. indeed, by that sudden and unexpected occurrence i knew that i had at last advanced one step towards the knowledge of who killed professor greer behind those locked doors in sussex place. chapter twenty five. a plot fails. what actually occurred was this. i had risen from the table when annie entered with a telegram which, on opening, i found to be an urgent message from langton, at broadstairs, begging me to go there at once, as he had some important information to communicate to me. from the time-table i found that a fast train left victoria in an hour, and full of excitement i bade good-bye to gwen, promising to wire her the result of the interview. soon after noon i strode down the steep street of the quiet little watering-place so beloved by dickens. on that february day it was very chilly, and very deserted, but gaining the parade i crossed the footbridge, and, continuing past the grand hotel, went along the top of the cliffs beyond the town, to where stood the late professor's seaside red-brick home. in the small but pretty drawing-room i was greeted by ethelwynn and her lover, who were standing talking near the fire as i entered. the girl looked delightfully sweet in a pale blue blouse and dark brown skirt, her splendid hair dressed in a style that suited her admirably, while he, on his part, presented the appearance of the typical clean-limbed, well-bred englishman. they were, indeed, a handsome pair. "it's very good of you, mr. holford, to come down so quickly!" the girl exclaimed, as she took my hand. "leonard wants to have a serious chat with you." and yet this was the girl who was privy to her father's tragic end. was it possible that her lover also knew the truth? langton invited me to a chair, and commenced by haltingly apologising for bringing me down from london. "we, however, considered it necessary," he went on; "necessary in the interests of us all that there should exist a clear and perfect understanding between us." "in what manner?" i asked langton. "well," he said, "it has come to our knowledge that you have been relating a most extraordinary story regarding ethelwynn's father. you declare that he died under suspicious circumstances." "whatever i've said is the truth--the plain and absolute truth," i declared openly. "mr. kirk introduced me into the house in sussex place, where i saw the poor professor lying dead in his laboratory." "ah!" cried the girl quickly, her manner suddenly changing. "then you are a friend of kirk's--not of my father?" "that is so," i admitted. "and in kirk's company i saw your father lying dead through violence." "and you've dared to put forward this story as an absolute fact!" langton cried. "do you happen to know who kershaw kirk really is?" "no; i'd very much like to know," i said, full of anxiety. "who is he?" "if you knew, you would, i think, have hesitated before you went to the police with such a fairy tale as yours." "it is no fairy tale, mr. langton!" i declared very earnestly. "i have with my own eyes seen the professor lying dead." "but you forget that my father went to edinburgh on that night, and wired me from there next day," the girl pointed out, fixing her splendid eyes on mine with unwavering gaze. "i forget no point of the remarkable affair, miss greer," i said quietly. "as a matter of fact, i followed the man believed to be your father to scotland." "you--you followed him?" gasped langton, while the girl's cheeks grew paler. "did you see him? did you speak with him?" "no; but i discovered some rather interesting facts which, when the time arrives, i intend to put forward as proof of a very remarkable subterfuge." the pair exchanged meaning glances in silence. the girl was seated in an arm-chair opposite to me, near the fire, while langton stood upon the hearthrug, with his hands thrust with feigned carelessness into his pockets. "the whole affair was no doubt most cleverly planned, thanks to the ingenuity of kirk. the servants were all in ignorance of anything unusual--all save antonio, who, as you know, has escaped to the continent." "escaped!" the pretty girl laughed uneasily. "the last i heard of him was that he was with my father, travelling in hungary." "when?" "four days ago." "how can i find them? what is the professor's address?" i asked. "he has no fixed abode. my last letter i sent to the poste restante in buda-pesth." in this i saw an intention still to preserve the secret of the impostor's whereabouts. "but it was not my intention in asking you down, mr. holford, to go into details of what may, or may not, have happened. we--that is, ethelwynn and myself--know the truth." "then tell it to me--relieve this burden of a crime which is oppressing me?" i begged. "let me know the truth, and let me at least regain my lost wife." "well? and if we did?" asked ethelwynn, after a pause. "we should only lay ourselves open to an unjust retaliation." were not those the words of a woman who possessed some guilty knowledge, if not herself guilty of parricide? i saw their frantic desire to close my mouth, so i let them proceed, smiling within myself at their too apparent efforts to avoid the revelations which must inevitably result. "i do not follow your meaning," i said. "why should i retaliate, if you are not responsible for my wife's absence?" she glanced uneasily across to her lover, who exclaimed: "as far as i see, the whole thing lies in a nutshell, mr. holford. you have been misinformed, and have made a ridiculous and quite unfounded statement concerning professor greer--one which seriously reflects upon his daughter, his household, and his friends. therefore--" "then does his daughter actually deny having seen him, as i saw him, lying dead in the laboratory?" i interrupted. "i have never seen my father lying dead!" declared the girl in a low, faltering tone which in itself showed her to be uttering an untruth. "your story is entirely unfounded." "then let me tell you one thing more, miss greer," i said plainly. "i myself knelt at your side with kirk when we found you in the diningroom lying, as we thought, lifeless. there was a white mark upon your face. see! it has hardly disappeared yet; there are still traces--a slight red discoloration!" the girl held her breath at this allegation. that mark upon her cheek condemned her. even her lover, for a moment, could not reply. "ah," he said at last, "the loss of mrs. holford has upset you, and causes you to make all sorts of wild and ridiculous statements, it seems. kirk says they would not listen to you at scotland yard--and no wonder!" "then you know kirk, eh--you who denied all knowledge of him when we first met!" i cried. "it was he who placed the poor professor's remains in the furnace in the laboratory, for from the ashes i recovered various scraps of his clothing which are now in my possession." "rubbish, my dear sir!" laughed the young man. "you don't know kirk--or who he is!" "i know him to be an adventurer who has two places of residence," i said. "but an adventurer is not necessarily a scoundrel," langton replied. "many a good-hearted wanderer becomes a cosmopolitan and an adventurer, but he still retains all the traits and all the honour of a gentleman." "not in kirk's case!" i cried. "you've evidently quarrelled with him," remarked langton. "i've quarrelled with him in so far as i mean to expose the secret assassination of professor greer and those who, for their own purposes, are making pretence that the dead man is still alive," i answered boldly. "by the latter, i take it, you mean ourselves?" observed the dead man's daughter. "i include all who lie, well knowing that the professor is dead and all traces of his body have been destroyed," was my meaning response. "what's this story of yours about miss greer presenting an appearance of death?" asked langton. "tell me--it is the first time i've heard this." in a few brief sentences i told them of our discovery in the dining-room, and of the removal of the girl in a cab on that foggy night. at my words both looked genuinely puzzled. "what do you say to that?" asked her lover. "i know nothing--nothing whatever of it!" she declared. "i can only think that mr. holford must be dreaming." "surely not when, with my own hands, i held a mirror to your lips to obtain traces of your breath!" i exclaimed. "ask antonio. he will tell you how he and his brother pietro placed you in a cab at kirk's orders." "at kirk's orders?" echoed the young man. "ask him for yourself," i said. they were both full of surprise and anxiety at what i had alleged. was it possible that i had been mistaken in ethelwynn's attitude, and that she genuinely believed that her father still lived? but that could not be, for had she not seen him dead with her own eyes? no. the girl, aided by her lover, was carrying out a cunningly-devised scheme effectively to seal my lips. my wife mabel had, before her disappearance, been in communication with the impostor whom ethelwynn had apparently taken under her protection. this was a point that was most puzzling. could this girl and my wife have been secretly acquainted? if so, then it was more than probable that she might have knowledge of mabel's whereabouts. again i referred to the loss of my wife, declaring that if i found her i would willingly forgo all further investigation into the professor's death. the handsome girl exchanged glances with her lover, glances which showed me plainly that they were acting in accordance with some premeditated plan. leonard langton was a sharp, shrewd, far-seeing man, or he would never have held the appointment of private secretary to sir albert oppenheim. "well, mr. holford," he said, "why don't you speak candidly and openly? you are, i take it, eager to make terms with your enemies, eh?" "but who are my enemies?" i cried blankly. "as far as i'm aware, i've made none!" "a man arouses enmity often without intention," was his reply. "i cannot, of course, tell who are these enemies of yours, but it is evident from your statement the other day at wimpole street that they are responsible for your wife's disappearance." "well," i said, "you are right. i am open to make terms if mabel is given back at once to me." "and what are they?" asked ethelwynn, whose very eagerness condemned her. "pardon me, miss greer," i said rather hastily, "but i cannot discern in what manner my matrimonial affairs can interest you." "oh--er--well," she laughed nervously, "of course they don't really-- only your wife's disappearance has struck me as very remarkable." "no, miss greer,"! said, "not really so remarkable as it at first appears. my own inquisitiveness was the cause of her being enticed away, so that i might be drawn off the investigation i had undertaken-- the inquiry into who killed professor greer." her cheeks went paler, and she bit her lip. her whole attitude was that of a woman aware of a bitter and tragic truth, yet, for her own honour, she dared not divulge it. she undoubtedly held the secret--the secret of her father's death. yet, for some purpose that was yet a complete enigma, she was protecting the impostor who had stepped into the dead man's shoes. the pair had brought me down there in order to entrap me--most probably a plot of kirk's. their intention was to mislead and deceive me, and at the same time to secure my silence. but in my frantic anxiety and constant dread i was not easily entrapped. i had seen through the transparency of kirk's attitude, and i had likewise proved to my own satisfaction that, however much of the truth leonard langton knew, the girl of the innocent eyes was feigning an ignorance that was culpable, for within her heart she knew the truth of her father's tragic end, even though she calmly asserted that he still lived and was in the best of health. i had believed on entering that room, the windows of which looked out upon that grey-green wintry sea, that i should learn something concerning my dear wife, that i should perhaps obtain a clue to her whereabouts. but as i fixed my eyes upon those of ethelwynn greer, i saw in them a guilty knowledge, and by it knew that in that direction hope was futile. true, she had sounded me as to what undertaking i was ready to give, but the whole situation was so horrible and so bewildering that i could not bring myself to make any compact that would prevent greer's assassin being exposed. so, instead, i sat full of chagrin, telling the pair much which held them in fear and apprehension. it was evident that i knew more than they had believed i did, and that langton was filled with regret that he had invited me there. what, i wondered, could possibly be ethelwynn's motive in concealing her father's death? i recollected how the assassin must have brushed past her in the red room to enter the laboratory on that fatal night, and that he must have again passed her on leaving. did she awake and recognise him, or had she herself been an accomplice in securing her father's sudden and tragic end? who could tell? in that startling suggestion i found much food for deep reflection. chapter twenty six. i scent the impostor. a whole fortnight went past. mabel's silence was inexplicable. the house in sussex place was still in the hands of the caretaker, and, though i watched both doctor flynn and leonard langton in secret, the results of my vigilance were nil. i was in despair. refused assistance by scotland yard, and treated as an enemy by kershaw kirk, i could only sit with gwen at home and form a thousand wild conjectures. advertisements for news of mabel had brought no word of response. indeed, it seemed much as though the theory of those two detectives was the correct one, namely, that she had left me of her own will, and did not intend to return. gwen, indeed, suggested this one day, but i made pretence of scouting it. mabel's mother, who now lived up in aberdeenshire, had written two letters, and i had been compelled to reply, to tell a lie and say that she was away at cheltenham. my business i neglected sadly, for nowadays i seldom went to the garage. kirk was, i understood, living in whitehall court, but i did not call upon him. what was the use? i had tried every means of learning where mabel was, but, alas! there seemed a conspiracy of silence against me. i had left no effort unexerted. yet all had been in vain. antonio had, according to ethelwynn, joined "the professor" in hungary. was not that, in itself, sufficient evidence of collusion? as for pietro, inquiry i made in the euston road showed that he had not yet returned to england. many times i felt impelled to go out to buda-pesth and endeavour to trace the pair. but i hesitated, because, finding ethelwynn's statements unreliable in some particulars, i feared to accept what she said as the truth. would it not be to her interest to mislead me and send me off upon a wild-goose chase? no man in the whole of our great feverish london was so full of constant anxiety, frantic fear, and breathless bewilderment as myself. ah, how i existed through those grey, gloomy march days i cannot explain. the mystery of it all was inscrutable. i should, i knew, be able to satisfy myself as to poor mabel's fate if only i could clear up the mystery of who killed professor greer. this tension of nerves and constant longing for the return of the one for whom i held such a great and all-absorbing love was now telling upon my health. i ate little, and the mirror revealed how pale, careworn, and haggard i had become. since the dawn of the new year i was, alas! a changed man. in two months i had aged fully ten years. from inquiries i made of men interested in science and in chemistry i had discovered how great a man was the dead professor, and how beneficial to mankind had been certain of his discoveries. fate--or is it some world spirit of tragic-comedy?--plays strange pranks with human lives now and then, and surely nothing more singular ever happened in our london life of to-day than what i have already narrated in these pages. and to that thin, grey-faced neighbour of mine--the man who led a double life--was due the blame for it all. though i made every endeavour and every inquiry, i could not learn what was his profession. that he was a man of means, a constant traveller, and well known in clubland, was all the information i could obtain. you will wonder, perhaps, why i did not go again to whitehall court and force the truth from the fellow's lips. well, i hesitated, because in every argument i had had with him he had always won and always turned the tables upon myself. i had made a promise which, however justifiable my action, i had, nevertheless, broken. i had denounced him to the police, believing that i should see him arrested and charged. yet, on the contrary, the authorities refused to lift a finger against him. what could i think? what, indeed, would you have thought in the circumstances? how would you have acted? one morning i had gone out early with drake, trying the chassis of a new "twenty-four," and finding ourselves in front of the grey old cathedral at chichester, we pulled up at the ancient "dolphin" to have luncheon. my mind had been full of mabel all the way, and though i had driven i had paid little or no attention to the car's defects. dick drake, motor enthusiast as he was, probably regarded my preoccupied manner as curious, but he made no comment, though he had no doubt noted all the defects himself. i had lunched in the big upstairs room--a noble apartment, as well known to travellers in the old coaching days as to the modern motorist--and had passed along into another room, where i lit a cigarette and stretched myself lazily before the fire. a newspaper lay at hand, and i took it up. in my profession i have but little leisure to read anything save the motor-journals; therefore, except a glance at the evening paper, i, like hundreds of other busy men, seldom troubled myself with the news of the day. i was smoking and scanning the columns of that morning's journal when my eyes fell upon a heading which caused me to start in surprise. the words read, "steel discovery: new high-speed metal with seven times cutting power of old." the short article read as follows: "few prophecies have been more quickly justified than that of professor greer at the royal institution on december th last. he then said: "`as to mr. carnegie's prophecy on the decadence of british steel metallurgy, this exists only in the imagination of that gentleman. so far as quality is concerned, britain is still first in the race for supremacy. "`i am strongly of opinion that in a very short time the best high-speed steel will be a back number. it is probable that a year hence there will be on the market british steel with a quadruple cutting power of any now known to metallurgy.' "the prophecy has come true. professor greer, lecturing again at the birmingham town hall last night, stated that the firm of edwards and sutton, of the meersbrook works, sheffield, of which sir mark edwards is the head, have, after his lengthened experiments, placed on the market a steel with from three to seven times the cutting power of existing high-speed steel, and which, in contradistinction to present material, can be hardened in water, oil, or blast. "the new steel, whose cutting power is almost incredible, said the professor, will not call for any alteration in present machinery." the impostor had actually had the audacity to lecture before a birmingham audience! his bold duplicity was incredible. i re-read that remarkable statement, and judged that this new process of his must have been purchased by the great firm of edwards and sutton, whose steel was of world repute. his was, i presumed, an improvement upon the bessemer process. that a man could have the impudence to pass himself off as greer was beyond my comprehension. as waynflete professor at oxford he would, i saw, be well known, even if he did not go much into society. and yet he had stood upon the platform in the town hall of birmingham and boldly announced a discovery made by the man whose identity he had so audaciously assumed. this action of the impostor, who had no doubt sold the professor's secret at a high figure to a well-known firm, absolutely staggered belief. i called drake, mounted upon the ugly chassis again, and together we sped post-haste back to london. at ten that night i was in the grand hotel at birmingham, and half an hour later i called at the house of a certain alderman named pooley, who was a member of the society before which the bogus professor had lectured on the previous evening. i had some little difficulty in inducing him to see me at that late hour. he was a busy solicitor, and his servant referred me to his office in bull street, where, she said, he would see me in the morning. but, being pushful, mr. pooley at last consented to see me. "yes," he said, as i sat with him in his diningroom, "it is quite true that professor greer lectured before us last night, and made a most interesting announcement--one which seems to have caused a good deal of stir in the world of metallurgy. the papers were full of it to-day." "i understood the professor was abroad," i remarked rather lamely. "so he was. he came home specially to fulfil a long-standing engagement. he promised us to lecture, and gave us the date as far back as november last." "do you know where he arrived from?" i inquired. "yes. he dined with us here before the lecture, and stayed with us the night. he told us at dinner that he had just returned from roumania." "then he did not leave birmingham until this morning!" i cried. "ah, how i wish i had known! have you any idea where he has gone?" "i went with him to the station this morning, and he took a ticket to sheffield--to visit sir mark edwards, i believe. he met at the station a friend who had been to the lecture and who had stayed at the grand that night. he was introduced to me as mr. kirk. do you know him?" "kirk?" i gasped. "yes; a tall, thin, grey-haired man--mr. kershaw kirk." "yes. they travelled together," said the alderman. "it seemed as though kirk came from london to meet the professor, who had returned by the hook of holland to harwich, and came on by the through carriage to birmingham." "and you believe that kirk has gone with the professor to visit sir mark edwards?" i exclaimed eagerly. "i think so. if you sent a letter to the professor at sir mark's address, it's quite probable that he would get it." "had you ever met the professor before?" i inquired. "no, never. of course i knew him well by repute." "did he mention that edwards and sutton were old friends of his?" "i gathered that they were not. he had simply concluded an arrangement with them for working his process as a matter of business. indeed, he mentioned that sir mark edwards had invited him for a few days." "then they are not friends of long standing?" i asked. "probably not. but--well, why do you ask such curious questions as these, mr.--holford! what, indeed, is the motive of all this inquiry? the professor is a well-known man, and you could easily approach him yourself," the keen solicitor remarked. "yes, probably so. but my inquiry is in the professor's own interest," i said, because i had to make my story good. "as a matter of fact, i have learnt of an attempt to steal the secret of his process, and i'm acting for his protection. when my inquiries are complete, i shall go to him and place the whole matter before him." "your profession is not that of a detective?" he suggested, with a laugh. "no; i'm a motor engineer," i explained bluntly. "i know nothing, and care less, about detectives and their ways." then i apologised for disturbing him at that hour and made my way back in the cab that had brought me to the centre of the city. i left new street station at two o'clock in the morning--cold, wet, and cheerless--and at half-past four was in the midland hotel at sheffield, sleepy and fagged. the night-porter knew nothing of sir mark edwards' address; therefore i had to wait until eight o'clock, when some more intelligent member of the hotel staff came on duty. everyone of whom i inquired, however, seemed ignorant; hence i took a cab and drove to the great works of the firm--a huge, grimy place, with smoky chimneys and heaps of slag, an establishment employing several thousand hands, and one of the largest, if not the largest, in hallamshire. here i was informed that sir mark resided thirty miles distant, at alverton hall, close to the edge of bulwell common, famed for its golf links. therefore at ten o'clock i took train there, and, finding a fly at the station, drove direct to the hall to face and denounce the man who was an accomplice of assassins, if not the assassin himself, and a bold, defiant impostor. the fly, after traversing a country road for a mile or so, suddenly entered the lodge-gates and proceeded up a splendid avenue of high bare elms, until we drew up at the entrance to a fine old elizabethan mansion, the door of which was thrown open by a liveried man-servant. i held my breath for a second. my chase had been a long and stern one. then i inquired for the honoured and distinguished guest--who i had already ascertained at the works in sheffield was supposed to be staying there--and was ushered with great ceremony into the wide, old-fashioned hall. at last the impostor was near his unmasking. at last i would be able to prove to the world who killed professor greer! chapter twenty seven. several revelations. alverton hall, a noble old mansion, had been purchased by the sheffield steel magnate sir mark edwards some ten years before. in addition, i heard that he owned a beautiful place in glamorganshire and rented a great deer-forest in scotland. he was one of england's manufacturing princes, whose generosity to charitable institutes and to the city of sheffield was well known, and whose daughter had, only a year ago, married into the peerage. a short, bluff, bald-headed old fellow, he spoke quickly, almost snappishly, when i was ushered into his presence in a small, cosily-furnished room that looked out upon a fine old-world terrace, with a jacobean garden beyond. "it is true that i'm expecting professor greer on a visit here," he said, with a broad hallamshire accent, in reply to my question. "who, may i ask, are you?" i explained that i was an intimate friend who desired to see him immediately upon very important business, and that i had come down from london for that purpose. "well," replied the short, active little man, "i expected him yesterday, and cannot think why he has not arrived." "you have had some important business dealings with him, sir mark, i see from yesterday's paper?" "yes, very important. he made a statement in birmingham explaining his discovery." "i suppose it is a most important one?" "most important. it opens up a new era in the british steel trade and places us in the foremost rank. at this moment no other steel in the world can compete with that from our meersbrook works, thanks to the professor." "you've known him a long time, i presume?" "i've not known him personally very long," was sir mark's reply. "he is a man who has kept himself very much to himself. but, of course, as you know, his reputation is worldwide. he is bringing with him his agent, mr. kirk." "his agent!" i echoed, astounded. "you know him?" "of course. i've had several dealings with him. he was with us in vienna a week or so ago." "and was greer there also?" "of course," replied the steel manufacturer. "the contract was arranged there." "and who else was with him?" "no one to my knowledge--except an english lady who lived at the continental in the praterstrasse, while we were at the grand. she seemed to be a friend of the professor, for one evening he introduced me to her. by the way, her name was very similar to yours, i think-- holworth or holford." "that was in vienna?" i gasped. "yes. he introduced me in leidinger's restaurant, in the karntnerstrasse." "and the lady--what was she like? young or old?" i inquired breathlessly. "young," was his answer. and, proceeding, he gave me a perfect description of mabel! "what was her attitude towards the professor?" "she appeared to be most eager to protect him from any suspicion of fraud. she seemed to regard me with some misgivings--i know not why. indeed, the reason of her being in vienna and mixed up in the business struck me as altogether remarkable, for, truth to tell, i prefer not to deal with the fair sex in matters of pure business. i'm a plain man," he added, with a strong burr in his voice, "and i believe always in straightforward dealing, whether it be in paying a workman a day's wage or carrying out a government contract." "this is all very interesting to me, sir mark," i said, without, however, telling him that the lady in question was my lost wife. "you appear not to have approved of the lady's connection with the sale of the patent?" "i didn't, i frankly tell you," he said. "i told kirk my mind quite plainly, but he assured me that the lady was a great friend of the professor." i bit my lip savagely. how was it that mabel, my dear, beloved wife, had allied herself with that pair of adventurers? what could have been the story told to her to induce her to become the catspaw of men of that stamp? it was on the tip of my tongue to tell the great steel magnate that he had purchased a secret which did not belong to the seller, and that the "professor greer" he knew was not the real discoverer. but i hesitated. before i spoke i would unmask this impostor and his "agent," kershaw kirk. a word from me to this shrewd, hard-headed man of business, and the two would, i felt assured, find themselves in the hands of the police. yes, i now held the trump card. at any moment the pair might drive up to pay their promised visit to sir mark. and when they did, what an awkward surprise would await them! i laughed within myself when i realised how innocently they would fall into my vengeful hands. so communicative and pleasant was the bald-headed man that i went one step further, daring to ask: "i presume the price your firm paid for the secret of the new process was a substantial one?" "a very large one," he replied. "a big sum down, as well as a handsome royalty. this must be the second fortune which greer has made. he has received a lot of money for his process of hardening armour-plates. the admiralty use only plates hardened by the greer process, for here, as in many other things, england is still ahead of germany." "have you ever been to the professor's house in london?" i asked. "never. he has, however, invited me to dine there next week." "next week!" i cried. "then, of course, you'll go? you'll probably find kershaw kirk there." "yes," he laughed; "most probably. he's a strange man--isn't he?--and most influential." "he's certainly strange, but as regards his influence, i know nothing," was my quick reply. "why, my dear sir, his influence is enormous! he can go direct to quarters where we are entirely debarred!" declared my companion, as i sat back in the chair listening to these revelations. "how? i don't follow you." "well," he declared, "to me, the reason of kirk's influence is a complete mystery, but it has been conclusively proved more than once that he has the _entree_ to the highest quarters, and the ear of the authorities." i laughed. "i suppose he has misled you into the belief that he has, sir mark. he's a boaster--like many other men of his stamp." "he's a boaster and a trifle eccentric, i admit. yet i have myself had experience of his undoubted influence. he's in some position of great trust." "there, i fear, i must differ, sir mark. i happen to know him well, and i think one day ere long you'll discover that his powers are merely imaginary." the short, bald-headed man shrugged his shoulders dubiously, whereat, in order not to go contrary to his opinion, i turned our conversation into a different channel. i had already learned much of interest, but much, too, that had caused me a twinge of despair. we spoke of other things, and apparently impressed by the fact that i was eager to meet greer, he invited me to wait until he and kirk arrived. "but they may not be coming, after all," i said. "they may have changed their minds." "i think that hardly probable," sir mark replied. "they have been delayed, though i've ascertained that they left birmingham to come direct here." i told him nothing of my visit to alderman pooley, but my only fear was that, with the report of the bogus professor's speech appearing in the papers, the impostor had become alarmed and again made himself scarce. to me it appeared much as though he and his accomplices had never intended the announcement to get into the papers. indeed, even sir mark had expressed himself surprised at reading the report, understanding that the meeting was a purely private one of the learned society which had invited him to lecture. i smoked a cigar with the affable little man, and then he left me, being called to the telephone. when he re-entered the room, he said: "i've been speaking to the professor. it seems that he's at home, at his house in london. he was recalled suddenly by telegram, and not having been home since his return from the continent he was compelled to obey the summons. he promises to come here next monday." my heart sank once more within me. the truth was just as i had feared! the report of his speech in the papers had alarmed him, and he was no doubt on his way abroad again, having netted a goodly sum from messrs. edwards and sutton for a secret filched from the unfortunate man who had been assassinated. "then i'll go back to london at once," i announced; and, without betraying my anxiety to my bald-headed friend, who had been so cleverly victimised, i bade him adieu, and an hour later left bulwell for london. in the grey march afternoon i alighted from a hansom before that well-remembered door of the professor's house in sussex place. i did not for one moment believe him to be there. he had, of course, escaped long ago. in edinburgh and in glasgow i had been close at his heels, as i had also been in birmingham, yet he had always cleverly evaded me. to my amazement my ring was answered by antonio--sleek, smiling, yet as evil-faced as ever! "is your master at home?" i asked sharply, for i certainly had not expected to meet the man who had escaped to italy, and who had afterwards threatened me. "no, signore," was his bland reply. "he is out at present." "then he--he's at home again?" "yes, signore. he returned unexpectedly yesterday." "and miss ethelwynn?" "the signorina is still at broadstairs; we expect her up to-morrow." "and my wife, antonio--where is she?" i inquired, looking him straight in the face. "ah, how can i tell, signor holford? have i not already told you that i am entirely ignorant of her whereabouts?" and he exhibited his bony palms. "you have been with your master in hungary or in roumania, i hear?" "certainly! why not?" he said, as we stood within the wide hall. "but the signor kirk is upstairs in the study. perhaps you will care to see him? i believe he has been trying to telephone to you at chiswick." i started in eager anticipation. "of course, i'll see mr. kirk," i said. and endeavouring to steady my nerves and control my temper, i mounted the thickly-carpeted stairs to the room i so well remembered. the point which puzzled me was whether i should now boldly accuse kirk of duplicity and fraud. if i did, i feared that, to the bogus professor, he might give the alarm, and that he would again slip through my fingers. on my way to the study i resolved upon a purely diplomatic course. i would not let kirk know of my visits to birmingham and sheffield, or even that i had noticed the report of the professor's announcement. for a second i held my breath. then i turned the handle of the door and boldly entered. "why, my dear holford," cried kirk, jumping up from the writing-chair and grasping my hand as though delighted at my visit, "i've been trying to get on to you at your garage three times this morning, but your people have been engaged. you must be pretty busy down there--eh?" the thin-faced man was, indeed, a perfect actor. "i called to see antonio," i said. "i heard he had returned." "then it is fortunate--most fortunate," he said. "i am awaiting the return of someone who is very desirous indeed of making your acquaintance. it was for that reason that i've been trying to ring you up." my lips parted in an incredulous smile. so the impostor was anxious to meet me--doubly anxious, no doubt, because he was aware that i knew the truth of poor greer's death. yes, i would meet and unmask him. chapter twenty eight. "no trumps." in the failing london light, as kirk rose and stood near the window, his countenance was even more sinister and more mysterious than ever. about his lips played that enigmatical, sarcastic smile which so tantalised and irritated me. here was a man who had actually deceived the hard-headed sheffield magnate into a belief that he possessed power and influence, while, in reality, he was only a clever adventurer. "sit down, holford," he said, in a cheery voice, inviting me to a big leather arm-chair. "the time has come when it is very necessary for you and me to arrive at some clear and definite understanding." "yes," i cried, "i agree with you. have i not asked you all along for a clear statement of facts? have i not urged you to tell me where i can find my wife?" "you have," he said, leaning against the big, old-fashioned mahogany table piled with books and scientific periodicals. "but until the present i have been unable to satisfy you. even now i am still in a great measure in the dark as to the--well, the unfortunate occurrence, shall we call it?--which took place in this house." "but you have, i understand, been acting in concert with the man who calls himself greer?" i remarked. "you've been with him abroad!" "i don't deny that. why should i?" i shrugged my shoulders impatiently. his evasion was always cunning, always well-contrived. "when you first brought me here," i said, "it was to obtain my assistance to discover who killed professor greer, and--" "and you made a promise which you did not keep!" he interrupted. "hence i have been unable to keep faith with you. is not that quite feasible?" "my wife's disappearance is the point which most concerns me," i said. "the other matter is, to me, of secondary importance. if you cared to divulge, you could tell me my wife's whereabouts. i happen to know that she has been in vienna, staying at the hotel continental, and she has been seen in your company, mr. kirk." "now that's really quite smart of you!" he laughed, with a patronising air, his grey face changing slightly, i thought. "i wonder how you came to know that?" "the source of my information does not matter," i said sharply. "suffice it that it is a reliable one." "well," he laughed, "since that evening when you sat with me in bedford park i've been compelled to be active, and i've discovered quite a number of things which at that time i never dreamed--facts that have amazed me, as they will, before long, amaze you, holford." "nothing can amaze me in this crooked affair," i declared. "you sought my aid in an endeavour to discover who killed professor greer, yet, having gained my confidence, you at once abused it!" i cried, with bitter reproach. "that is your present opinion," he said, with a keen, crafty look. "an opinion based upon your actions towards me!" i exclaimed hotly. "my dear holford," he said, "now let us speak quite frankly, as man to man." and he bent towards me in an eager attitude. "i put it to you whether, in the circumstances--not overlooking the fact that scotland yard has refused you assistance--to forget what you saw that night upstairs in the laboratory, to place it aside as though you never witnessed it, is not the best plan?" "ah, you wish still to hush up the tragedy!" i cried. "the reason is, of course, quite obvious." "you misinterpret my words. i wish to avoid bringing scandal upon innocent folk," kirk replied quickly. "you once gave me a pledge of secrecy, and you broke it. will you give me another?" "and if i gave it," i asked, not without some hesitation, "would these precious friends of yours give me back my wife?" "i cannot answer for others. personally, i will do all i can to assist you," was his somewhat evasive reply. "why do you wish to extract this promise from me?" i demanded dubiously. "because--well, because you must give it. you _must_ remain silent, holford. it is imperative!" "you really ask too much of me," i laughed sarcastically. "i know the ghastly truth. you showed it to me of your own accord--you yourself drew me into this dark, mysterious affair, and now you coolly demand my silence, because you are, i suppose, interested in the money realised by the sale of professor greer's secret." "ethelwynn greer makes the same demand as myself," he said calmly. "surely you don't believe that the girl has participated in any shamefully obtained profits?" "the girl saw her father dead, and now refuses to admit it," i responded. "how do you know that she did?" he asked. "what actual evidence have you upon that point, beyond my word--repeated from the story told to me by antonio?" "ah! so antonio is changing his tale in order to fit the new order of events--is he?" "well," kirk said, after a brief pause, "that there is a new order of events--as you put it--i admit. yet, whatever they may be, your silence, holford, as well as mine, is imperative. you hear that!" he added, looking straight into my face. "to hear and to heed are scarcely synonymous," i remarked in anger. i was incensed with this man who refused to give me any satisfaction concerning mabel, and yet commanded my silence. was it not a very curious feature of the affair, i reflected, that ethelwynn had ingeniously approached me, offering me news of mabel in return for my undertaking to make no further inquiry into her father's secret death? how much did langton know, and what was the extent of the knowledge of that friend of his, the specialist in diseases of the throat and nose? for a few moments i sat in silence, longing for the return of the bogus professor, the man whom i had followed through edinburgh and glasgow, yet who had so very cleverly escaped my vigilance. i was anxious to meet him, and to see what kind of man he could be. as an impostor he was, it seemed, shameless and bold beyond human credence. how many thousands had edwards and sutton paid to him for that great secret that was not his own? antonio, suave and cringing, suddenly put his head in at the door, asking: "did you ring, signore?" "no!" i cried, rising angrily, "mr. kirk did not ring. i suppose you've been listening outside--eh? you are one of the accomplices in the murder of your master--and by heaven, you shall pay for it! if scotland yard will not help me, then i'll take the law into my own hands and give the public an illustration of the red-tape and the uselessness of the police!" "the signore is a little excited!" was the man's quiet remark to kirk. "excited, by heaven!" i cried. "i'll be fooled no longer by any of you--band of assassins that you are! you ask me to believe that black is white, and tell me that my own eyes deceive me. but i'll be even with you yet--mark me!" "pray calm yourself, holford," said kirk, shifting his position slightly and still leaning easily against the table, "no good can be served by recrimination." the man's cunning was unequalled; his ingenuity almost superhuman. once i had held him in awe, but now, knowing the truth, that i held information which it was his earnest desire to suppress, i felt triumphant. "i admit," he said, still speaking calmly, as antonio disappeared and shut the door--"i admit that there are certain ugly facts--very ugly facts which are difficult to forget, but is it not better to be merciful to the innocent and living than to revenge the dead?" "you desire to seal my lips, my dear sir," i said. "why don't you speak quite plainly?" "yes," he admitted, "i make that appeal to you because--well, for several very strong reasons--ethelwynn's future being one." "and what, pray, need i care for that girl's future, now that mine has been wrecked by the devilish machinations of you and your gang?" i cried in bitter anger. "your denunciation is quite uncalled for, holford!" he exclaimed. "it is not," i protested. "you know where my wife is, and you refuse to tell me!" was my quick answer. "please don't let us discuss that further," he urged. "the point is whether you will, or you will not, regard all you saw in this house a couple of months ago as entirely confidential." "why?" "for reasons which you shall know later. i regret that i cannot explain at this moment, because i should be breaking a confidence," he responded. "but," he added, looking at me very seriously, "a life--a woman's life--depends upon your silence!" i hesitated a moment. "ah, i see!" i cried. "then the girl conspired to encompass her father's end, and is now in fear of the impostor!" "i must leave you to your own opinion," he said, with a shrug of his thin shoulders. then, turning away to the window, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and, with that cosmopolitan air of his, he hummed a verse of that catchy song of the boulevards he so often sang. chapter twenty nine. i am faced with another difficulty. the careless manner in which kirk seemed to treat the grave issue of my life enraged me. this man, who in chiswick posed as shabby and broken-down, was certainly no ordinary person. he was a shrewd, clever adventurer, possessed of resources that had even astonished sir mark edwards. he had entrapped me, for some hidden reason of his own, and now he held me in a hateful bondage. but with the vivid recollection of mabel upon me, i resolved to defy this enemy of mine at all costs. i was only awaiting the return of the false professor to unmask the pair, to call a constable, and to give them both in charge. what the result would be, i cared not. i should, however, at least be afforded an opportunity to make revelations in the police-court which they would find it somewhat awkward to refute. surely by doing this i should be performing a work of public benefit? the pair were clever swindlers, reaping the harvest from that secret discovered by the unfortunate man who had been purposely killed. "you appear, mr. kirk, to consider me an absolute fool!" i said, interrupting his song. "i do, my dear holford, i do. you have acted against your own interests, and even now you are spitting against the wind." "you desire my silence, yet you offer me nothing in return!" i said. "oh, you want payment!" he cried. "my dear sir, you have only to name your own price. we shall not quarrel over it, i can assure you." "no," i said angrily, "i desire no blood-money, even though it is to save ethelwynn greer. i have all along suspected her of some complicity in the affair, although on the night you removed her to that house in foley street she accused you of the crime!" he started quickly and turned to me, his countenance slightly paler. "repeat that," he said quietly. i did so. i told him how i had followed him to foley street, of the screams and words i had heard while standing in the fog outside the house. "h'm. so you think i'm guilty of the crime, eh?" he said simply. "i repeat the girl's allegation against you," i said. "and yet this same girl now declares that the professor is not dead!" then i added: "he was dead when we were together in the laboratory, was he not? come, speak plainly!" "certainly he was!" "and men do not come to life again when once dead, do they?" "but this is an unusual case, i tell you. he--" "however unusual, you cannot alter the laws of life and death," i declared. "well, my dear holford, how i wish i could reveal to you one simple truth. it would astound you, no doubt, but it would at the same time alter your opinion of me." "oh, of course," i laughed bitterly. "you're not so black as you're painted--you who have conspired to hold my wife aloof from me--you who for aught i know have told her some infamous tale which has caused her to look upon me with doubt and horror! i have recently learnt that she was acquainted with this man who calls himself ernest greer, and that, before she left my roof, she received word in secret from him." "your wife's affairs are surely of no interest to me, holford," said the grey-faced old scoundrel. "i am merely putting forward to you a simple matter of business--in a word, making a proposal for your consideration." "a proposal which i will never accept--_never_, you understand!" i added with emphasis. "not if i appeal to you on behalf of ethelwynn, on behalf of a girl whose very life is dependent upon your silence?" he asked earnestly. "the punishment for murder is death," was my hard response. he regarded me steadily, without speaking. i saw that he realised my steadfastness of purpose, and that i meant to reveal the truth to all the world. "but," he cried at last, "you surely will not act as a fool, holford! i told you on the night we first sat together of the great issues that depended upon your silence, and i repeat it now." "why did you entice me into this complicated tangle of crime and mystery?" i demanded quickly. "tell me that." "because--well--" and he hesitated. "because i--i was a fool--i admit it frankly. i ought never to have approached you. three days later i regretted it deeply." "regretted it because you found, to your surprise, that you had no fool to deal with!" i cried. "no; because i had made a mistake in another direction. but--but, hark?" i listened and heard a footstep outside on the stairs. "the professor!" kirk exclaimed. "he has returned. i'll introduce you." i rose from my chair, my teeth set together, my hand gripping the edge of the table. an instant later the door opened, and i stood boldly face to face with the impostor. kirk, with that calm suavity of manner that so annoyed and irritated me, introduced us. but i bowed coldly to the well-dressed, elderly impostor, a man with keen, deep-set eyes, and a short, scrubby grey beard, asking of my companion: "is this farce really necessary, mr. kirk, when i know the truth?" the new-comer looked askance at his accomplice, who gave him a quick, meaning look. "ah! my dear mr. holford!" exclaimed the bogus professor, "i've been most anxious to meet you for a considerable time. this is a great pleasure." "and one which i most heartily reciprocate," was my hard reply. "i've been endeavouring to find you for a long time. i followed you in edinburgh, in glasgow, and later on in birmingham." "then surely it is a rather happy circumstance that we have met to-day?" he said, rather fussily. "happy for me, but perhaps unhappy for you!" i replied, with a dry laugh. "why?" "because i now intend to expose your very clever plot. the secret you have sold to sir mark edwards does not belong to you at all, but to professor ernest greer, the man who was killed in the room yonder--in his own laboratory!" his lips grew paler and set themselves hard. i saw in his dark eyes an expression of fear. he held me in terror--that was quite plain. "holford, you are mistaken," declared kirk. "in what way?" i demanded. "professor ernest greer stands before you!" "no!" i cried. "this man is the impostor--the impostor who wrote to my wife, and enticed her from her home." "i wrote to mrs. holford, certainly," was the fellow's cool reply. "but without any evil intent; of that she will herself assure you." "where is she?" "you will, no doubt, see her before very long, and she will explain the reason of her absence." "ah!" i said, "you adventurers dare not tell me the truth with your own lips. remember, i saw the professor lying dead in this house. you cannot induce me to believe that my eyes deceived me!" "and yet you see the professor alive before you now!" declared kirk with a triumphant laugh. but i made a gesture of disgust, declaring that i refused to be fooled further. "you are not being fooled, mr. holford," asserted the man in a calm, distinct voice, as he opened the door and called to antonio. the grave-eyed man-servant entered in a few seconds, and as he did so the new-comer said: "antonio, will you please tell this gentleman who i am?" "you are my dear master, signore--the signor professor ernest greer." "i already know, antonio, that you're a clever liar," i cried, "so you can retire." "the signorina ethelwynn has just arrived, signore," remarked the highly respectable manservant. "ah! then tell my daughter to come up?" he cried. "she will no doubt satisfy mr. holford that i am no impostor." "miss ethelwynn saw her father lying dead, as i did; how, therefore, can she identify you as her deceased parent? have you a half-brother, or some relation strongly resembling you?" "no, i have not," was his quick reply. "i am simply professor ernest greer, whom a thousand persons living can identify." at that moment the fair-haired girl neatly attired in fur jacket, tailor-made skirt, and toque entered, and, with a spring, fell into the impostor's arms and kissed him. that piece of acting was, without doubt, perfect. yet i stood aside and smiled. had not kirk previously admitted to me that his earnest endeavour was to secure my silence? "am i your father?" asked the dark-eyed man of ethelwynn, standing with his hand upon her shoulder. "of course you are, dear dad! why?" "because this gentleman will not believe it!" he laughed. "this is my father, mr. holford," the girl declared, turning to me. "but did not you, with your own eyes, see your father dead in his laboratory?" i asked seriously. "are you not being misled, as these men are trying to mislead me?" i suggested. she hesitated, glancing towards the man who posed as the professor as though expecting him to reply for her. "no," i went on, "this is a conspiracy--a plot to place this man in a dead man's shoes. and you know it, miss ethelwynn." "i tell you he's my father!" the girl persisted. "cannot you believe us?" "not without some independent proof," i said. this persistence angered me. "then what proof do you require?" asked the man. "shall i call the park-keeper at clarence gate? he has known me and seen me every day for a number of years." "call him, if you wish," i said, though, truth to tell, i did not intend to be longer fooled by the ingenious machinations of kirk and his gang. antonio was sent to find the park-keeper, who, in due time, appeared, carrying his gold-laced hat in his hand. "you've known professor greer a long time?" i asked the white-headed man. "several years, sir," was his quick reply. "and do you recognise this gentleman as the professor?" i asked. "certainly, sir; i saw him pass in at the gate this morning. he's cut off his beard, and that makes a bit of difference to a man, you know!" he laughed. "you have no hesitation in identifying him, eh?" i asked. "you'll be able to swear to him in a court of law?" "yes, sir, in any court of law. the professor's been very kind to me, once or twice; therefore it isn't likely that i forget either his face or his voice." this bewildered me. was it possible that this impostor was the professor's twin brother? i felt confident that kirk was continuing some very ingenious conspiracy. was not his suggestion to me that i should forget the tragedy sufficient proof of double dealing? i thanked the park-keeper, who withdrew with antonio, whereupon kirk asked me whether i was not satisfied. "no," i said, "and i shall never be satisfied until i discover the identity of the man who killed professor greer." "but professor greer stands before you!" declared ethelwynn; "nobody killed him!" "so you wish me to believe," i said with a smile, "but as my secrecy has been demanded on your account, i can only suspect that you were, in some way, implicated in the crime." she went pale as death. my words, i saw, had a startling effect upon her. she looked first at kirk and then at the man posing as her father--the man who had secured many thousands of pounds for a secret that was not his own. "then you refuse to accept even the park-keeper's testimony?" kirk remarked, while the man who had assumed the professor's identity walked across to the writing-table and began looking at some letters lying upon it. "i do; my intention is to unmask you all!" the impostor, the fading light falling upon his clear-cut countenance, turned quickly, and upon his face rested an expression of deadly fear that i had not previously noticed. hitherto his attitude had been one of bold unconcern. but now, realising my determination, he had grown alarmed. he saw that he had carried the imposture too far. "ethelwynn," he said, in a low, strained voice, "i--i wish to speak with mr. holford. will you leave us for a little while, dear. go into the red room, and we'll join you there later." "my dear sir," i exclaimed, "i don't desire to hear any more of your denials." "i'll go, dad, of course," replied the girl, who, in obedience with his suggestion, left the room. i turned to follow her, but with a sudden movement he placed himself before the door, exclaiming anxiously: "mr. holford, pray hear me for one moment, i beg of you. i want to tell you something--to confess!" "ah!" i laughed triumphantly. "at last! you will confess! good! i am all attention." "listen carefully to the facts, holford," urged kirk. "the professor's peril lies in the knowledge possessed by one man--yourself. it is therefore but just that you should know the truth." "i do not expect the truth from you," i laughed. "how can i, after all that has passed?" "the deceit i've practised upon you has been imperative," was his audacious answer. "let me explain," interrupted the impostor, advancing to the fireplace near which i stood. "first, i repeat that i am professor ernest greer, and that this is my house. my statement can be verified later, but for the present i ask you to accept it as the truth. my old friend here, kershaw kirk, is not an adventurer, though he so often poses as such. but it is under necessity, for his real profession is that of a confidential agent of the british government, the trusted head official of our intelligence department." at this i smiled incredulously, wondering what fantastic story he was about to relate, for even then i did not recognise him by the photograph i had obtained just before going up to scotland. he was thinner, and his eyes were quite unlike those of the photograph, being narrower and deeper set. "the plain facts are as follows," he went on, after a second's pause. "i had been experimenting until i had discovered an easy method of obtaining from the air those subtle elements helium and neon. my success had incidentally confirmed sir william ramsay's estimation that the proportion of neon and helium in the atmosphere was about one to two in each hundred thousand, when a suggestion occurred to me that my process of hardening armour plates might be improved upon, and a substance of great cutting power created. my experiments were long and tedious, but were at last crowned with success. i very foolishly gave, in the french scientific journal _cosmos_, some account of these experiments, and a month later i was secretly informed by kirk that the german government--always our rivals where improvements in war material are concerned--was actively endeavouring to obtain my secret. as you know, i always kept my laboratory locked, and allowed no one within upon any pretext. my only confidante was my daughter ethelwynn." and again he paused, glancing across at where kirk stood, narrow-eyed and silent. "well," he went on, "after another month had passed, kirk returned from germany, where he had been upon a secret mission for the government, and then he urged me to exercise the greatest care. a very clever german agent, by name max leftwich, who had resided in london for some years, had been instructed to obtain my secret at all hazards. kirk warned me that he was a man of remarkable tact and ability, and that under his control were fully a dozen agents rendering him assistance. it was he who had obtained for his employers in berlin the secret of our new submarine boat, and who had controlled the survey of the suffolk coast in view of the coming invasion. i confess that i laughed at kirk's fears--fears which were repeated to me by one of the lords of the admiralty only a week later. i saw no reason, however, for any serious apprehension. my laboratory was always locked, and could not be entered either from the skylight or conservatory, while the only keys of those double doors were secure upon my chain. but, alas! i had, like many another man, foolishly lulled myself into a sense of false security." and he sighed as he again paused. chapter thirty. i discover much that is amazing. "well," continued the dark-eyed man, "the rude awakening came in the following way. the thirteenth of january was on sunday. kirk, who had been engaged in watching the movements of the secret agent leftwich, sent me a telegram telling me to leave for edinburgh at : that evening, and asking me, if i intended to carry out this suggestion, to raise and lower the drawing-room blind three times at a quarter past five. by that i knew that the german agent and his friends had some desperate game afoot and that kirk, astute and active, intended to prevent them carrying out their object." "if anyone obtained access to the laboratory, then, they could steal the secret?" i asked. "they could obtain specimens of the steel which might be analysed," he said. "and these specimens, in conjunction with the written results of my experiments, kept in the safe here, in this room, would, of course, place my process in their hands." "then you were acting in obedience with kirk's suggestion," i said. "he wished you to go to scotland out of the way, eh?" "exactly. he had previously been ordered by the government to keep watch over me, for it was known by the intelligence department that germany would make a desperate attempt to obtain the secret of what, to them, would be a most valuable process in the preparation of steel for use in their new navy." "and you made the signal to kirk?" "yes. i told ethelwynn nothing, fearing to alarm her. i merely remarked that i was compelled to go to scotland, my intention being to take her with me at the last moment. i did not dress that night, it being sunday. we dined at eight, and afterwards antonio packed my bags. after dinner my daughter went up to the drawing-room, while i came in here to the study, in order to write some letters and attend to one or two things before departing. at a quarter to ten i recollected that i should remove a small crucible from the furnace wherein i had placed it that afternoon, and, passing through the red room, i found, to my great surprise, the two doors leading to the laboratory had been unlocked, and were slightly ajar. "suspecting something amiss, i dashed in, to find to my amazement an intruder there--the man leftwich, dressed exactly to resemble myself! he had in his hand some specimens of the new steel, and as i entered noiselessly he was in the act of bending over a memorandum book, reading some notes i had made that day. you may imagine how amazed i was to see my second self standing there before me! i faced him, demanding to know what he wanted. i saw that he must have entered with keys made from wax impressions somehow taken from my own, and that his object in making up to resemble me was in order to pass upstairs within sight of the watchful antonio or any of the other servants. indeed, it was afterwards proved that antonio saw him pass up immediately after dinner, and believed him to be myself." "is this a fact?" i gasped. "the truth," declared kirk; "but listen to the end." "well," faltered the professor, "on being challenged, the man, seeing himself cornered, instantly attacked me with a knife. i closed with him. he tried to kill me and escape. ah! it was an exciting moment-- his life or mine! i shouted, but antonio did not hear me. the fellow got me by the throat and lifted his hand to strike. he cut my little finger badly. then suddenly he slipped upon the tiles, and in an instant i had pinned him down. i wrenched the knife from him, and--and i struck him. he--he fell dead in the corner! i stood aghast at what i had done. i had saved the secret--prevented it from falling into the hands of britain's enemies, but i had killed the german agent, who had apparently escaped kirk's vigilance. "what to do next i did not know," continued the professor. "i stood for a few moments horrified at my action. suddenly it occurred to me that, being dressed exactly like me, it would be believed that i had been assaulted! but his features were not mine, so i took a bottle of highly corrosive acid and flung it into his face, and then exchanged my gold watch and keys for his, and put some of my letters into his pocket. afterwards i replaced the one or two things that had been disordered in the laboratory, switched off the light, and, leaving the dead spy in the corner, closed both doors, which, as you will see, lock automatically." "and then?" i asked, amazed at his story. "then i came in here, put a piece of plaster upon my finger, opened the safe, and took the precious books containing the records of my experiments, in order to make it appear that a robbery had been committed. after washing myself in my room, i strove to preserve an outward calm, and asked ethelwynn to telephone for a sleeping-berth for me. i had now decided, as there was no further danger of spies, not to take her with me. just before i left, i came in here and wrote her a letter, telling her i should be absent some months, and instructing her to call kirk and regard him as her protector during my absence. as i went out i left the note beneath the salver on the hall table, so that it might be discovered by the maid when dusting in the morning. at : i left king's cross for edinburgh, without, however, being able to communicate with kirk or tell him what had actually occurred." "i, on my part, naturally believed that the dead man was the professor," kirk interrupted. "and when were you aware of the truth?" i asked. "the day after i had called you in consultation. i then saw that, in exposing an affair which, at all hazards, must be kept a secret, i had acted most injudiciously. i did not dare to tell you the truth. i went to edinburgh and found the professor, who was in hiding, fearful lest the affair should be discovered. he told me exactly what had occurred, and invoked my aid. my agents watched every move you made. they were with you in edinburgh and in glasgow. therefore, i was well aware how strenuously you were seeking a solution of the mystery." i paused in sheer amazement. as i reflected, i saw that kirk had been shielding his friend the professor all along. in reply to my questions, he told me that the reason why he could not satisfactorily prove an alibi if accused of the crime was because at the hour of the tragedy he was engaged upon a mission for the government, a secret transaction with an agent of another foreign power which was greatly to our advantage, and betrayal of which would create serious international complications. his allegations of enmity towards the professor had been made to mystify me. he added, also, that the reason why the commissioner of police had not listened to my story was because i had made accusations against him. they knew him at "the yard," he added with a laugh, and it was not likely they would dare to make inquiry into his actions. "but i saw miss ethelwynn lying dead!" i said, turning to the professor--for how could i now doubt that it was actually he? "let my daughter relate her own story," he said; and, going to the door, he recalled her. "just tell mr. holford, dear, what occurred to you on that evening when you returned from your aunt's," he said, as she entered the room. "i have confessed to him the truth." "well, dad," she said, "i believed that the man in the laboratory was you yourself. besides, mr. kirk believed it to be you. the face was, of course, much disfigured, but the clothes were yours, and in the pockets were your watch and some of your letters. i was insane with grief, and with morgan, to whom mr. kirk told a fictitious story, i went to lady mellor's. on the night in question something seemed to prompt me to return home, enter with my latch-key, and go up to the laboratory to make sure that it was really you. i somehow could not believe that you were dead. remember, i was in the red room all night, and you would certainly have awakened me if you had entered and unlocked the door. so i went. i crept in softly, in order that antonio should not hear me, and, ascending to the laboratory, switched on the light. i examined the body closely. ah! it was a gruesome sight--but i satisfied myself that it was not you! i crept downstairs, back to the dining-room, but as i entered something was suddenly flung over my head; i smelt a curious odour--it may have been some anaesthetic. i tried to scream, but could not, and in a few moments i became unconscious. when i regained my senses i found myself in a strange house, with mr. kirk bending over me. i believe i was delirious, for i remember shouting and raving, and charging him with an attempt to kill me. it was impressed upon my unbalanced mind that he had killed my father. but, on the contrary, he was all care and attention. on putting my hand to my face i found upon my cheek a quantity of what seemed like wax, which peeled off in my hand." "and you afterwards went down to broadstairs?" i said. "yes; i went with morgan on the following day." "but who had attacked you in the diningroom?" "ah! that remains to be proved," replied kirk. "a desperate attempt was, no doubt, made upon miss ethelwynn by somebody who had entered the house secretly for the same purpose as herself--by somebody who suspected that leftwich had come to an untimely end. the would-be assassin first administered an anaesthetic, and must afterwards have injected with a hypodermic syringe some curious poison, which gave to her all the appearance of death, though the dose was fortunately inefficient. with the remembrance of leftwich's features--which he had only seen a few minutes before--being disfigured, it seems that her assailant tried to disfigure hers by pouring upon her face hot wax from the candles alight upon the dining-room table. it was, of course, the act of a person half demented by the desire for revenge." "and you are unaware of who did this?" "i have a suspicion--a slight suspicion. it is for me to prove its truth." "you will now see the terrible position in which i have been placed, mr. holford," exclaimed ethelwynn. "i knew that my father had killed a man. was it surprising, therefore, that i should endeavour to shield him?" "certainly not," i said. "you acted only quite naturally. my chief complaint is that you have all kept my wife aloof from me." "we will speak of that later," kirk interrupted. "let me continue. when i had been up to edinburgh, and knew that the professor lived and was in hiding, i returned and set to work to remove all traces of the unfortunate affair. to allow the facts to leak out to the public might have provoked a serious quarrel with the german government, and i could not afford to allow that. therefore, on the night when langton saw the light in the drawing-room, ethelwynn, who had come up from broadstairs, pietro, and myself had made up the furnace, and together we got rid of the gruesome remains, after which we ate a hasty meal. "i had previously sent antonio to italy for a holiday, deeming it best in the circumstances that he should be absent. ethelwynn and pietro had left the house, when, of a sudden, i heard the bell, and, peeping out, saw langton at the door. it was an exciting moment. the young man had, i knew, had his suspicions aroused by meeting antonio at calais, for antonio had wired me that he had been recognised. so i waited until you, very fortunately, came, and allowed me to escape." for a moment i was silent. then i said: "you'll remember when we returned to bath road after my first visit to sussex place you were rung up on the telephone. the message caused you great alarm. what was it?" "antonio told me of his suspicions that the dead man was not the professor," was his reply. "and on your second visit to this house you signalled by the blind of the drawing-room, as the professor had done." "i signalled to pietro, who was out in the fog, that you were still with me. he had, of course, been with ethelwynn to foley street, and i was about to go there." "and, tell me, what connection had doctor flynn with the affair?" i demanded, utterly astounded at the very remarkable story unfolded. "listen--and i'll tell you the whole truth," kirk said; and, pausing, he looked at both father and daughter, as though to obtain their consent to make further revelations, and thereby elucidate what was certainly the most extraordinary mystery of modern times. what i had heard was startling enough, in all conscience, but what i was yet to learn was still more astounding, as you will see. chapter thirty one. i am again perplexed. as we spoke, antonio entered, and handed his master a note, which, on reading, he handed in turn to kirk. "you'll go, i suppose?" he asked the professor. "i think so," was greer's reply. "i'll cross to-night. but if i go, i must first run into the city to see meyrick," and he glanced at his watch, exclaiming, "by jove! i must be off!" then, turning to antonio, he ordered a taxi. "i hope, mr. holford," he said, turning to me, "i hope that i've now convinced you that i'm no impostor, and that i am actually professor ernest greer in the flesh." "you have," i admitted; "there are, however, several points which are not yet clear to me." "my good friend kirk, here, will make them clear, i'm sure," he said. "the only service i beg of you is that of complete and absolute silence. it was the german's life or mine. he attacked me murderously with a knife, and what i did was--god knows!--only in self-defence. yet--yet the public must know nothing. it is for fear of you, that you might learn the truth and expose the affair to the press, that i have lived in perpetual anxiety, travelling constantly from place to place, in the hope that you would still regard me as the impostor. while you believed that, i had nothing to fear. my daughter has, indeed, threatened to commit suicide if the public are told that i killed the man who tried to steal my secret. to her, your silence means love and life!" "yes, mr. holford," declared the girl anxiously; "leonard does not know the truth. if he did, he would surely discard me as the daughter of a murderer. indeed, i could never again hold up my head. i believe implicitly in my dear father's version of the affair--yet his enemies surely would not! will you, at least, give me your promise?" she implored. i hesitated. i was not altogether clear upon many points. "when i have seen my wife and consulted with her i will give you an answer, miss greer," i said. "i admit that what i have learnt to-day has held me in surprise and removed many doubts from my mind." kirk was explaining how the tiny golden doll, the little charm which had been discovered after the tragedy, had been traced through the well-known jeweller in bond street who made it, to the professor as purchaser; and how greer had admitted buying it for the purpose of giving to ethelwynn to hang upon her bracelet. but he had lost it on the previous day. therefore it was not a clue to the assassin, as we had at first suspected. just then the grave-eyed antonio reopened the door, bowing, and announcing to his master that the motor-cab was at the door. thereupon professor greer shook my hand, with a parting appeal to me to preserve silence. "you will, no doubt, meet your wife ere long, and she will explain much which is to you still a mystery. remember that her devotion to you was the cause of her absence. she believed that you were in danger. that story was told her to keep her away from you, and thus draw you off the inquiry in which we feared you might be only too successful. adieu, mr. holford! when i return, in a week's time, i hope you will come and have a further chat with me. in the meantime, i can only beg you to forgive me for being the unwilling means of causing you either horror, annoyance, or anxiety." and, with a hurried good-bye to the others, he turned and left the room. "a point upon which i require elucidation," i said, turning to kirk, "is the reason why you and those other men were so inquisitive regarding the new eckhardt tyre." "why i called to see the tyre was simple enough," he said. "max leftwich was posing as the inventor of the tyre in question, and thereby trying to disguise his real profession of german secret agent. but as i had come across him in berlin three years before in the guise of a small money-lender, i doubted his inventive genius. i came to you in order to examine the eckhardt tyre, and i satisfied myself that leftwich's tyre was a mere worthless imitation. my assistants also came to your garage for the same purpose, just as i predicted they would. leftwich had opened a depot in charing cross road for the sale of motor accessories, and the `improved eckhardt tyre' was one of the inventions he claimed to be his." "but you also had a further motive?" i suggested. "certainly, holford," was his quick reply. "i confess that i had watched you for a year, and i felt that i could rely upon you. i wished to enlist your services as one of my assistants, and to initiate you into work for which the government would pay well. it would assuredly have been worth your while to leave your business to the care of your manager, mr. pelham, and take service in the department of which i hold control. but, remember, when i asked you to come here, even i was deceived. i believed that my friend greer, with whom i had had a slight quarrel a few weeks before, was dead. when i found what had really occurred, i saw that the only danger lay in your discovering the truth. hence all that tangled chain of subterfuges." "but surely the professor might, even now, be charged with murder--or at least with manslaughter!" i remarked. "my father may, mr. holford, if you do not preserve his terrible secret!" cried ethelwynn. "upon you alone depends all the future!" once again i demanded the truth concerning mabel and news of her whereabouts, but all kirk would tell me was what greer had already said--only a promise that we should meet, and that when we did she would make full and ample explanation. i returned to bath road utterly bewildered, and, seated with gwen, related to her the whole facts from the first, just as i have here recounted them. she sat staring at me open-mouthed. "but where is mabel?" she cried in alarm. "the professor and the others have returned from abroad, yet she is still absent. will they accord you no satisfaction?" "none!" i replied with a weary sigh. "i don't know, after all, whether to accept what has been related to me, or whether to disbelieve it." "the fact that the police refused to inquire into your story, harry, seems sufficient proof that this man kirk is a powerful and influential person. indeed, does it not tend to confirm the story that the professor did not die, and that he really killed the german in self-defence?" i admitted that it did. and then i made up my mind that, as kirk would give me no satisfaction concerning mabel, i, on my part, would decline to enter into any bond of secrecy. my wife was worth far more to me than any international complication. what was germany's wrath at being foiled in her dastardly attempt to obtain the secret of the new steel, to mabel's honour and her love? two lagging days had gone by. kershaw kirk had called in the evening about seven o'clock, but i refused to see him. i sent word by annie that i was out driving a car. "tell mr. holford to come in and see me the instant he returns. i must speak to him at the earliest possible moment," he had said. and this was the message which the maid had brought to me when the astute official of the british government had left. just before ten i entered kirk's close little den. he was seated in his bead slippers and old velvet coat, while behind him stood the grey parrot, which screeched loudly as miss kirk opened the door to admit me. seated opposite him, near the fire, was leonard langton, pale-faced and grave. "ah, holford!" cried kirk, springing from his chair, sharp-eyed and alert. "i called on you some time ago. i wanted to--to make an announcement to you," he added, with a slight catch in his voice, i thought. "of what?" he took from his table a long telegram. i recognised that it was from the continent by the fact that it was on green "tape" pasted upon a form. attached to it was a square, dark red label, bearing the words, "government telegram: with priority." "read that!" he said simply. chapter thirty two. the problem solved. i scanned it through--then held my breath. it was from angouleme, in central france, and signed by somebody named croxton, evidently a person in the secret employ of our government. the telegram was a jumble of cipher figures and letters, but above, written in ink, were their equivalents in plain english. the message read: "details are as follow: professor greer left paris by the `rapide' at : last night for bordeaux. he occupied a first-class compartment alone, and at poitiers was seen by the _chef du train_ asleep. soon after passing moussac, towards angouleme, two men in the adjoining compartment were startled at hearing three pistol shots in rapid succession. they looked out, and saw a man open the carriage door and leap from the train. the train was stopped by pulling the communication-cord, whereon the professor was found dead on the floor of the carriage. his assailant had evidently entered the carriage at ruffec, the junction for la rochelle. the passengers instituted a search back along the line towards moussac, where they found the murderer lying in a ditch with his neck broken. both bodies have been brought here to angouleme, and by papers upon the assassin he has been identified as a german named henke, lately living at hillside cottage, epping. have had the body photographed, and sending you print for identification. am making arrangements for sending the late professor's body to london. wire further instructions." "what does this mean?" i gasped. "we know the man henke," kirk replied. "he was a german secret agent, who has lately been engaged with a number of others in making a complete survey north of london. he was brother-in-law to leftwich. it was he who entered the house in sussex place to make certain that his relative was dead, and who, on finding ethelwynn there, attacked her so savagely, believing he had killed her. finding that he had not, he evidently followed the professor, and, alas! avenged leftwich's death." "then the poor professor is dead?" i said, amazed. "yes," sighed langton. "ethelwynn is now beside herself with grief. i have just left her, having broken the dreadful news to her." "ah!" exclaimed kirk, "it's surely a dark and bitter revenge--rendered all the worse, holford, by one vivid fact." "what is that?" "the fact that doctor flynn--who was born in germany, though of british parents, and was an intimate friend of leftwich--suspecting the truth, told the german's brother-in-law, with this tragic result." "then flynn is to blame for greer's death!" i cried. "undoubtedly," was kirk's answer. "poor greer!" he added, "he was an old and dear friend of mine. i never suspected that he would be followed abroad, or i would have gone with him. flynn was no doubt privy to the attempt to be made to secure revenge." "where is flynn?" "gone abroad," replied langton. "as soon as i told him what mr. kirk had said over the telephone, he packed some of his traps, and, making a lame excuse that he had to visit some friends in germany, he drove to charing cross." i stood gazing at the pair before me, my thoughts too full for mere words. professor greer's end was, indeed, an unexpected and extraordinary one. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ that night, however, proved full of surprises, for when i returned home i found mabel, sweet, eager and happy, anxiously awaiting me. i noticed she seemed pale, weary and travel-worn, but as she threw herself into my ready arms with a cry of joy at our reunion, she sobbed to me to forgive her for doubting me. "i don't understand you, darling," i said. "i never doubted you for one moment." "ah!" she sobbed, "you do not know all i've suffered in these long weeks we have been parted." "no," i said. "tell me, dearest, tell me all." then, in broken sentences, smiling now and then through her tears, she explained how, on receipt of the false telegram, she had at once gone to italy, where she was met by kirk, who told her that i had unfortunately been accused of the crime of forgery, of which i was innocent, and that i was in hiding. he promised, if for the time she concealed her name, he would take her to me. they went to florence, only to find that i was not there. thence they went to faenza, on the adriatic side of the apennines, where she was handed over to the care of pietro merli, who conducted her about the continent under the same pretext--always in search of myself, and always preventing her from sending a message home, for fear, the italian had said, that the english police should be placed on the track. in vienna, kirk again met her, pietro having returned to england. here she met the professor, whom she had known when a girl at her home in hampshire, and who had purposely sent her a note and seen her prior to conniving at the trick by which she was enticed abroad and kept apart from me. she had, in turn, been introduced to sir mark edwards, who came to vienna to purchase the secret of the new process, and had accompanied them one evening to the opera. from vienna my dear wife was induced to travel alone to moscow, where for the past fortnight she had been awaiting news of me promised by the professor, who had all along supplied her with funds. three days before, however, she had received a telegram from kirk, telling her that the charge against me was withdrawn, and that i had returned home. then, of course, she had not lost an instant in returning to my side. during my absence at kirk's house gwen had been telling her sister the whole remarkable truth. therefore, when my wife had concluded her story, her head fell upon my shoulder, and in tears she begged forgiveness for doubting me, a fault which, in those circumstances, i freely forgave--as you may quite well imagine. is there any need to say more? need i tell you that mabel and myself stood beside the grave and watched the burial of poor professor greer at st. peter's, near broadstairs? need i tell you, either, how, just a year later, ethelwynn, who had inherited the great fortune accruing from her father's discoveries, was married to leonard langton, both my wife and myself being honoured guests at the wedding? flynn has not been heard of since; but antonio is still all-powerful at the pretty house langton has taken in hill street, and on more than one occasion mabel and i have been guests at the bright, breezy seaside house overlooking the goodwins, beyond broadstairs. leonard langton and ethelwynn are extremely happy. yet i verily believe that mabel and myself are even still happier, for i cannot help thinking that our enforced separation has rendered the joys of our lives the sweeter, and has proved our mutual trust and love. kershaw kirk is still travelling hither and thither, ever active as secret agent of the british government, and ever prone to ask the advice of his feathered pet. as for myself, i still carry on my garage in chiswick, a business which, i am glad to say, is rapidly extending, though i confess it very nearly came to ruin in those dark, breathless days when i was seeking a solution of the remarkable problem of "the red room." the end. german spies in england german spies in england an exposure by william le queux author of "lying lips," "fatal thirteen," "the four faces," etc. toronto thomas langton _printed in great britain_ contents chap. page to the reader i. how the truth was hidden ii. the kaiser's secret revealed iii. how the public were bamboozled iv. under the kaiser's thumb v. how spies work vi. some methods of secret agents vii. master-spies and their cunning viii. the spy and the law ix. a remarkable spy x. some recent cases xi. , aliens at large in great britain xii. how to end the spy peril to the reader from the outbreak of war until to-day i have hesitated to write this book. but i now feel impelled to do so by a sense of duty. the truth must be told. the peril must be faced. few men, i venture to think, have been more closely associated with, or know more of the astounding inner machinery of german espionage in this country, and in france, than myself. though the personnel of the confidential department established at whitehall to deal with these gentry have, during the past six years, come and gone, i have, i believe, been the one voluntary assistant who has remained to watch and note, both here and in belgium--where the german headquarters were established--the birth and rapid growth of this ever-spreading canker-worm in the nation's heart. i am no alarmist. this is no work of fiction, but of solid and serious fact. i write here of what i know; and, further, i write with the true spirit of loyalty. though sorely tempted, at this crisis, to publish certain documents, and make statements which would, i know, add greatly to the weight of this book, i refrain, because such statements might reveal certain things to the enemy, including the identity of those keen and capable officials who have performed so nobly their work of contra-espionage. yet to-day, with the fiercest war in history in progress, with our bitterest enemy threatening us with invasion, and while we are compelled to defend our very existence as a nation, yet spies are nobody's business! it is because the british public have so long been officially deluded, reassured and lulled to sleep, that i feel it my duty to now speak out boldly, and write the truth after a silence of six years. much contained within these covers will probably come as a complete revelation to many readers who have hitherto, and perhaps not unjustly, regarded spies as the mere picturesque creation of writers of fiction. at the outset, however, i wish to give them an assurance that, if certain reports of mine--which now repose in the archives of the confidential department--were published, they would create a very considerable sensation, and entirely prove the truth of what i have ventured to write within these covers. i desire, further, to assure the reader that, since , when i first endeavoured to perform what i considered to be my duty as an englishman, i have only acted from the purest patriotic motives, while, from a pecuniary point of view, i have lost much by my endeavour. the knowledge that in the past, as now, i did what i conceived to be but my duty to my country, was, in itself, an all-sufficient reward; and if, after perusal of this book, the reader will only pause for a moment and reflect upon the very serious truths it contains, then i shall have accomplished all i have attempted. we have, since the war, had a rude awakening from the lethargy induced by false official assurances concerning the enemy in our midst. it is for the nation to now give its answer, and to demand immediate and complete satisfaction from those who were directly responsible for the present national peril, which, if unchecked, must inevitably result in grave disaster. william le queux. hawson court, buckfastleigh, devon. _february, ._ german spies in england chapter i how the truth was hidden the actual truth regarding germany's secret and elaborate preparations for a raid upon our shores has not yet been told. it will, however, i venture to think, cause considerable surprise. a few curious facts have, it is true, leaked out from time to time through the columns of the newspapers, but the authorities--and more especially the home office, under mr. mckenna--have been most careful to hide the true state of affairs from the public, and even to lull them into a false sense of security, for obvious reasons. the serious truth is that german espionage and treasonable propaganda have, during past years, been allowed by a slothful military administration to take root so deeply, that the authorities to-day find themselves powerless to eradicate its pernicious growth. unfortunately for myself--for by facing the british public and daring to tell them the truth, i suffered considerable pecuniary loss--i was in the first person to venture to suggest to the authorities, by writing my forecast "the invasion of england," the most amazing truth, that germany was secretly harbouring serious hostile intentions towards great britain. the reader, i trust, will forgive me for referring to my own personal experiences, for i do so merely in order to show that to the grievous, apathetic attitude of the government of the time the present scandalous state of affairs is entirely due. i had lived in germany for a considerable period. i had travelled up and down the country; i had lived their "home life"; i had lounged in their officers' clubs; and i had indulged in the night-life of berlin; and, further, i had kept my eyes and ears open. by this, i had gained certain knowledge. therefore i resolved to write the truth, which seemed to me so startling. my daring, alas! cost me dearly. on the day prior to the publication of the book in question, sir henry campbell bannerman, then premier, rose in the house of commons and--though he had never had an opportunity of seeing my work--deliberately condemned it, declaring that it "should never have been written" because it was calculated to create alarm. who, among the readers of this book, would condemn anything he had not even seen? now the last thing the government desired was that public attention should be drawn to the necessity of preparing against german aggression. once the real fear of the german peril had taken root in our islands, there would instantly have been an irresistible demand that no money should be spared to equip and prepare our fighting forces for a very possible war--and then good-bye to the four-hundred-a-year payments to members, and those vast sums which were required to bribe the electors with social reform. in the columns of the _times_ i demanded by what right the prime minister had criticised a book which he had never even seen, and in justice to the late sir henry campbell bannerman i must here record that he apologised to me, privately, for committing what he termed a "political error." political error! if there had been no further "political errors" in this dear old country of ours, we should have no war to-day. the government was bent upon suppressing the truth of my earnest appeal; hence i was held up to derision, and, in addition, denounced on all hands as a "scaremonger." now, at the outset, i wish to say that i am no party politician. my worst enemy could never call me that. i have never voted for a candidate in my life, for my motto has ever been "britain for the british." my appeal to the nation was made in all honesty of purpose, and in the true sense of the patriotism of one who probably has the ear of a wide public. the late lord roberts realised this. our national hero, who, like myself, was uttering words of solemn warning, knew what pressure the government were endeavouring to place upon me, and how they meant to crush me; therefore on november th, , he wrote the following:-- "speaking in the house of lords on the th july, , i said:--'it is to the people of the country i appeal to take up the question of the army in a sensible practical manner. for the sake of all they hold dear, let them bring home to themselves what would be the condition of great britain if it were to lose its wealth, its power, its position.' the catastrophe that may happen if we still remain in our present state of unpreparedness is vividly and forcibly illustrated in mr. le queux's new book, which i recommend to the perusal of _every one who has the welfare of the british empire at heart_." but alas! if the public disregarded the earnest warnings of "bobs," it was scarcely surprising that it should disregard mine--especially after the prime minister had condemned me. my earnest appeal to the nation met only with jeers and derision, i was caricatured at the music halls, and somebody wrote a popular song which asked, "are we downhearted?" neither the british public, nor the authorities, desired the truth, and, ostrich-like, buried their heads in the sand. germany would never dare to go to war, we were told, many wiseacres adding, "not in our time." the violent storm of indignation sweeping upon my unfortunate head, i confess, staggered me. the book, which had cost me eighteen months of hard work, and a journey of ten thousand miles in a motor-car, was declared to be the exaggerated writing of a jingo, a sensationalist, and one who desired to stir up strife between nations. i was both puzzled and pained. shortly afterwards, i met mr. (now lord) haldane--then war minister--at dinner at a country house in perthshire, when, in his breezy way, he assured me over the dinner-table that he knew germany and german intentions better than myself, and that there would never be war. and he waxed humorous at my expense, and scorned lord roberts's warnings. the kaiser's cleverness in ingratiating himself with certain english statesmen, officers, and writers is really amazing, yet it was--though at that time unsuspected--part of the great german plot formed against us. as an instance how the emperor was cleverly misleading the british cabinet, lord haldane, speaking on june th, , at a public dinner, at which baron marschall von bieberstein, the german ambassador, was present, said:-- "i speak of one whom we admire in this country and regard as one of ourselves. "he (the kaiser) knows our language and our institutions as we do, and he speaks as we do. "the german emperor is something more than an emperor--he is a man, and a great man. he is gifted by the gods with the highest gift that they can give--i use a german word to express it--_geist_ (spirit). he has got _geist_ in the highest degree. he has been a true leader of his people--a leader in spirit as well as in deed. he has guided them through nearly a quarter of a century, and preserved unbroken peace. i know no record of which a monarch has better cause to be proud. in every direction his activities have been remarkable. "he has given his country that splendid fleet that we who know about fleets admire; he has preserved the tradition of the greatest army the world has ever seen; but it is in the arts of peace that he has been equally great. he has been the leader of his people in education, and in the solution of great social questions. "that is a great record, and it makes one feel a sense of rejoicing that the man who is associated with these things should be half an englishman. i have the feeling very strongly that in the last few years germany and england have become much more like each other than they used to be. it is because we have got so much like each other that a certain element of rivalry comes in. "we two nations have a great common task in the world--to make the world better. it is because the german emperor, i know, shares that conviction profoundly that it gives me the greatest pleasure to give you the toast of his name." the government, having sought to point the finger of ridicule at my first warning, must have been somewhat surprised at the phenomenal success which the book in question attained, for not only were over a million copies sold in different editions in english, but it was translated into no fewer than twenty-six languages--including japanese--and, further, was adopted as a text-book in the german army--though i may add that the details i gave of various vulnerable points around our coasts were so disguised as to be of little use to the enemy. i had had a disheartening experience. yet worse was to come. a couple of years later, while making certain inquiries in germany with a view to continuing my campaign, and my endeavour to disclose the real truth to the british public, i discovered, to my surprise, the existence of a wide-spread system of german espionage in england. just about that time colonel mark lockwood, the member for epping, asked a question in the house of commons regarding the reported presence of spies in essex. for his pains he was, of course, like myself, promptly snubbed. a week later, i ventured to declare, at a meeting in perth, that in our midst we were harbouring a new, most dangerous, and well-organised enemy--a horde of german spies. german spies in england! who ever heard such wild rubbish! this completed the bitterness of public opinion against me. the press unanimously declared that i had spoken wilful untruths; my statements were refuted in leading articles, and in consequence of my endeavour to indicate a grave national peril, a certain section of the press even went so far as to _boycott my writings altogether_! indeed, more than one first-class london newspaper which had regularly published my novels--i could name them, but i will not--refused to print any more of my work! i was, at the same time, inundated with letters from persons who openly abused me and called me a liar, and more than one anonymous communication, which i have still kept, written in red ink and probably from spies themselves, for the caligraphy is distinctly foreign, threatened me with death. such was my reward for daring to awaken the country to a sense of danger. it caused me some amusement, i must confess, yet it also taught me a severe lesson--the same bitter lesson which the british public, alas! taught lord roberts, who was so strenuously endeavouring to indicate the danger of our unpreparedness. it told me one plain truth, a truth spoken in the words of the noble general himself, who, with a sigh, one day said to me, "nothing, i fear, will arouse the public to a sense of danger until they one day awaken and find war declared." on the day following my speech, the german press, which published reports of it, called me "the german-hater," by which epithet i am still known in the fatherland. the editor of a certain london daily newspaper told me to my face: "there are no spies in england"; adding, "you are a fool to alarm the public by such a statement. nobody believes you." i, however, held my own views, and felt that it was my duty to act in one of two ways. either i should place the confidential information and documents which i had gathered, mostly from german sources, in the hands of the press, and thus vindicate myself; or give them over to the government, and allow them to deal with them in a befitting and confidential manner. the latter attitude i deemed to be the correct one, as an englishman--even though i have a foreign name. at the war office the officials at first sniffed, and then, having carefully examined the documents, saw at once that i had discovered a great and serious truth. for this reason i have never sought, until now, to vindicate myself in the public eye; yet i have the satisfaction of knowing that from that moment, until this hour of writing, a certain nameless department, known only by a code-number,--i will refer to it as the confidential department,--has been unremitting in its efforts to track down german secret agents and their deadly work. through six years i have been intimate with its workings. i know its splendid staff, its untiring and painstaking efforts, its thoroughness, its patriotism, and the astuteness of its head director, who is one of the finest englishmen of my acquaintance. there are men who, like myself, have since done work for it both at home and abroad, and at a considerable expenditure--patriotic men who have never asked for a single penny to cover even their expenses--men who have presented reports which have cost them long journeys abroad, many a watchful night, much personal danger, and considerable outlay. yet all the time the home office ridiculed the idea of spies, and thus misled the public. the archives of the secret department in question, which commenced its activity after the presentation of my array of facts, would be an amazing revelation to the public, but, alas! would, if published, bring ignominy, disaster, and undying shame to certain persons among us towards whom the kaiser, the master-spy, has, in the past decade, been unduly gracious. i could name british spies. i could write things here, shameful facts, which would, like my first allegations, be scouted with disbelief, although i could prove them in these pages. but, as a briton, i will not reveal facts which repose in those secret files, records of traitorous shame, of high-placed men in england who have lived for years in the enjoyment of generous allowances from a mysterious source. to write here the truth i feel sorely tempted, in spite of the law of libel. but enough! we are englishmen. let us wipe off the past, in the hope that such traitorous acts will never be repeated, and that at last our eyes are open to the grave dangers that beset us. to-day we have awakened, and the plain truth of all for which i have contended is surely obvious to the world. chapter ii the kaiser's secret revealed before proceeding further with this exposure of the clever and dastardly german plot against england, the reader will probably be interested in a confidential report which, in the course of my investigations, travelling hither and thither on the continent, i was able to secure, and to hand over to the british government for their consideration. it was placed, in confidence, before certain members of the cabinet, and is still in the archives of the confidential department. the report in question, i obtained--more fully than i can here reproduce it--from an intimate personal friend, who happened to be a high functionary in germany, and closely associated with the kaiser. germany has spies in england; we, too, have our friends in germany. shortly after the zeppelin airship had been tested and proved successful, a secret council was held at potsdam, in june, , at which the emperor presided, prince henry of prussia--a clever man whom i know personally--the representatives of the leading federal states, and the chiefs of the army and navy--including my informant--being present. i regret that i am not at liberty to give the name of my informant, for various reasons. one is that, though a german of high position, he holds pro-british views, and has, in consequence, more than once furnished me with secret information from berlin which has been of the greatest use to our intelligence department. suffice it to say that his identity is well known at whitehall, and that, although his report was at first regarded with suspicion, the searching investigation at once made resulted in its authenticity being fully established. that the kaiser had decided to make war, the british government first knew by the report in question--notwithstanding all the diplomatic juggling, and the publication of blue books and white books. the french yellow book published in the first week of december, , indeed, came as confirmation--if any confirmation were necessary--from the lips of king albert of belgium himself. now at this secret council the kaiser appeared, dressed in naval uniform, pale, determined, and somewhat nervous and unstrung. for more than two hours he spoke of the danger confronting the german empire from _within_ and without, illustrating his speech by many maps and diagrams, as well as some well-executed models of air-craft, designed for the war now proceeding. at first, the emperor's voice was almost inaudible, and he looked haggard and worn. [ ]"gentlemen," the emperor, in a low, hoarse voice, commenced, "in calling this council this evening, i have followed the divine command. almighty god has always been a great and true ally of the house of hohenzollern, and it is to him that i--just as my august ancestors did--look for inspiration and guidance in the hour of need. after long hours of fervent prayer light has, at last, come to me. you, my trusted councillors and my friends, before whom i have no secrets, can testify that it has been, ever since i ascended the throne, my most ardent desire to maintain the peace of the world and to cultivate, on a basis of mutual respect and esteem, friendship and goodwill with all the nations on the globe. i am aware that the course followed by me did not always meet with your approval, and that on many an occasion you would have been glad to see me use the mailed fist, rather than the silken glove chosen by me in my dealings with certain foreign nations. it was a source of profound grief to me to see my best intentions misunderstood, but bulletproof against public censure and criticism, and responsible only to the lord above us for my acts, i calmly continued to do what i considered to be my holy duty to the fatherland. true to the great traditions of prussia, and the house of hohenzollern, i believed in the necessity of maintaining a great army and an adequate navy as the best guarantee of peace. in our zeal for the preservation of peace we were compelled to keep pace with the ever-increasing armaments of our neighbours, until the limit seems now to have been reached. "we find ourselves now face to face with the most serious crisis in the history of our new german empire. owing to the heavy taxation, and the enormous increase in the cost of living, the discontent of the masses is assuming alarming proportions, and even infecting the middle and upper classes, which have, up to the present time, been the strongest pillar of the monarchy. but worst of all, there are unmistakable signs that the discontent is spreading even among the troops, and that a secret well-organised anti-military movement is afoot, calculated to destroy all discipline, and to incite both my soldiers and sailors to open disobedience and rebellion. as, according to the reports of my secret service, a similar movement is making itself felt in nearly all the states of europe; all indications point to the fact, which admits, indeed, no longer of any doubt, that we have to deal with an international revolutionary organisation whose voiced object is the overthrowing of throne and altar, and the establishment of a republican government. "the gravity of the situation can, in no way, be underrated. in the last session of the reichstag it was openly admitted that never before had there been among the german population so many friends of a republican form of government as at the present time, and the idea is rather gaining ground, not only among the masses, but also the classes, though i have given the strictest orders to my government for its suppression. the fact, however, remains, and i cannot afford to ignore it. "'breakers ahead!' is the call of the helmsman at the imperial ship of state, and i am ready to heed it. how to find an honourable and satisfactory solution of the problem is a question to which i have devoted the closest attention during these last months. the outlook is, i admit, dark, but we need not despair, for god, our great ally, has given into our hands the means of saving our empire from the dangers which are threatening its happiness and welfare. you know what i mean. it is that wonderful invention which his excellency count zeppelin was enabled, through the grace of the lord, to make for the safeguarding and glory of our beloved fatherland. in this invention god has placed the means at my disposal to lead germany triumphantly out of her present difficulties and to make, once and for all, good the words of our poet, '_deutschland, deutschland über alles!_' yes, gentlemen, germany over everything in the world, the first power on earth, both in peace and war; that is the place which i have been ordered by god to conquer for her, and which i will conquer for her, with the help of the almighty. "this is my irrevocable decision. at present we are, thanks to our airships, invincible, and can carry at will war into the enemy's own country. it goes without saying that if we want to maintain our superiority and to use it to the best advantage, we cannot postpone the necessary action much longer. in a few years our good friend, the enemy, may have a fleet of airships equal--if not superior--to our own, and where should i be then? great britain has thrown down the gauntlet by declaring that she will build to each german, two english dreadnoughts, and i will take up the challenge. now is our time. the attack has always been the best defence, and he who strikes the first blow generally comes triumphant out of the fray. to find an outlet for the discontent of the nation; to nip the growing republican sentiment in the bud; to fill our treasury; to reduce the burden of taxation; to gain new colonies and markets for our industries across the seas; to accomplish all this and still more, we simply have to invade england. "you do not look at all surprised, gentlemen, and i see from the joy on your faces that my words have found an echo in your hearts. at last this idea, which is so popular with the greater part of my people, and to the propagation of which i am so much indebted to the untiring efforts of my professors, teachers, and other loyal patriots, is to become a fact--a fact certainly not anticipated by the english panic-mongers when first creating the scare of a german invasion. our plans have been most carefully laid and prepared by our general staff. "another von moltke will, true to his great name, demonstrate to the world at large that we have not been resting on our laurels of and , and that, as the first condition of peace, we have been preparing all the time for war. the glorious deeds of our victorious armies will, i fear me not, be again repeated if not surpassed on the battlefields of great britain and france, assuring in their ultimate consequences to germany the place due to her at the head of nations. i need not go into details at the present moment. suffice it to say that preparations have been made to convey, at a word, a german army of invasion of a strength able to cope with any and all troops that great britain can muster against us. for the safe transport of the army of invasion we shall, to a considerable degree, rely on the fleets of fast steamers belonging to the hamburg-amerika line and the north-german lloyd, two patriotic companies, whose officials, employees, and agents have--throughout the world--proven their zeal and devotion to the cause of the empire, and whose tact and discretion have already helped my government in many an embarrassing position. herr ballin, director-general of the hamburg-amerika line, whom i received but a few days since on board my yacht 'hohenzollern' at swinemünde, is truly a great man and verily deserves something better than to be nicknamed 'the napoleon of german shipping'--as his enthusiastic compatriots call him. his activity, his energy, and his brains accomplish the most difficult things, and when the day of invasion arrives, he will reveal his plans. "of course it is too early yet to fix the exact date when the blow shall be struck. but i will say this, that we shall strike as soon as i have a sufficiently large fleet of zeppelins at my disposal. i have given orders for the hurried construction of more airships of the improved zeppelin type, and when these are ready we shall destroy england's north sea, channel, and atlantic fleets, after which nothing on earth can prevent the landing of our army on british soil, and its triumphant march to london. do you remember, my generals, what our never-to-be-forgotten field-marshal gebhard lebrecht von blücher exclaimed, when looking from the dome of st. paul's cathedral upon the vast metropolis at his feet. it was short, and to the point. 'what a splendid city to sack!' "you will desire to know how the outbreak of hostilities will be brought about. i can assure you on this point. certainly we shall not have to go far to find a just cause for war. my army of spies scattered over great britain and france, as it is over north and south america, as well as all the other parts of the world, where german interests may come to a clash with a foreign power, will take good care of that. _i have issued already some time since secret orders that will, at the proper moment, accomplish what we desire._ there is even now, as you are all aware, a state of private war existing between our country on the one side, and great britain and france on the other, which will assume an official character as soon as i give the word. it will become the starting point of a new era in the history of the world, known to all generations as the pan-german era. i once pledged my word that every german outside of the fatherland, in whatever part of the globe he might live, had a just claim to my imperial protection. at this solemn hour i repeat this pledge before you, with the addition, however, that i shall not rest and be satisfied until all the countries and territories that once were german, or where greater numbers of my former subjects now live, have become a part of the great mother-country, acknowledging me as their supreme lord in war and peace. "even now i rule supreme in the united states, where almost one half of the population is either of german birth, or of german descent, and where three million german voters do my bidding at the presidential elections. no american administration could remain in power against the will of the german voters, who through that admirable organisation, the german-american national league of the united states of america, control the destinies of the vast republic beyond the sea. if man ever was worthy of a high decoration at my hands it was herr dr. hexamer, the president of the league, who may justly be termed to be, by my grace, the acting ruler of all the germans in the united states. "who said that germany did ever acknowledge the monroe doctrine? the answer to this question was given by the roar of german guns at the bombardment of the venezuelan fort, san carlos, by our ships. the day is not far distant when my germans in the southern states of brazil will cut the bonds now tying them to the republic, and renew their allegiance to their former master. in the argentine, as well as in the other south american republics, a german-bund movement is spreading, as is the case in south africa, where, thanks to the neighbourhood of our colonies, events are shaping themselves in accordance with the ultimate aims of my imperial policy. through my ally, the emperor-king of austria-hungary, i have secured a strong foothold for germany in the near east, and, mark my word!--when the turkish 'pilaf'-pie will be partitioned, asia minor, syria and palestine--in short, the overland route to india--will become our property, and the german flag will wave over the holy shrines of jerusalem. "but to obtain this we must first crush england and france. the war will be short, sharp and decisive. after the destruction of the english fleets through our zeppelins, we shall meet with no serious resistance on the british isles, and can, therefore, march with nearly our whole strength into france. shall we respect the neutrality of holland? under the glorious emperor, charles v., both holland and belgium formed part of the german empire, and this they are this time to become again. we shall have two or three battles in france, when the french government, recognising the impossibility of prevailing with their disorganised, mutinous regiments against my german 'beasts,' will accede to my terms of peace. after that, the map of europe will look somewhat different from what it does now. while our operations are going on in england and france, russia will be held in check by austria-hungary. "the empire of the tsar is still suffering from the effects of its unfortunate war with japan, and is, therefore, not likely to burn its fingers again, the more so as it is conscious of the fact that any warlike measures against germany would at once lead to a new outbreak of the revolutionary movement--the end of which no man could possibly foresee. thus, you will agree with me, we have no real cause to fear russia. after the war, it will be time to set things right in america, and to teach my friends over there that i have not forgotten the object-lesson which admiral dewey saw fit to give me some years since, when we had the little altercation with castro. "_if god will help us, as i am convinced he will, i trust that at the end of the coming year the imperial treasury will be filled to overflowing with the gold of the british and french war indemnities_, that the discontent of our people will have ceased, that, thanks to our new colonies in all parts of the world, industry and trade will be flourishing as they never were before, and that the republican movement among my subjects, so abhorrent to my mind, will have vanished. "then--but not before--the moment will have come to talk of disarmament and arbitration. with great britain and france in the dust, with russia and the united states at my mercy, i shall set a new course to the destinies of the world--a course that will ensure to germany for all time to come the leading part among the nations of the globe. that accomplished, i shall unite all the people of the white race in a powerful alliance for the purpose of coping, under german guidance, with the yellow peril which is becoming more formidable with every year. then--as now--it must be 'germans to the front!'" the notes before me describe, in vivid language, the effect which this speech of the emperor had upon his devoted hearers. the old white-headed general von k---- even knelt before his majesty to kiss the hand which was gracefully extended to him. "it is truly the voice of god that has spoken out of your majesty," he cried in deep emotion. "god has chosen your imperial majesty as his worthy instrument to destroy this nightmare of british supremacy at sea, from which germany has suffered all these many years--and god's will be done!" the blasphemy of it all! in the subsequent council, which lasted nearly five hours through the night, the kaiser arrived with his advisers at a perfect understanding regarding the best ways and means to be adopted for a successful carrying out of his majesty's secret campaign for war. and prince henry of prussia soon afterwards organised a british motor-tour in germany and throughout england. and he became the idol of the royal automobile club! footnotes: [footnote : the german government, by some means, learnt that i was in possession of a report of this secret speech of the kaiser's, and a curious incident resulted. it was my intention, in september, , to write a book pointing out that germany meant war. with that object i gave to my friend mr. eveleigh nash, the publisher, of fawside house, covent garden, the opening chapters of the manuscript, together with the speech in question. he locked them, in my presence, in a drawer in his writing-table in his private room. two days later, when mr. nash opened that drawer he found they had been stolen! german secret agents undoubtedly committed the theft--which was reported in certain newspapers at the time--for i have since learnt that my manuscript is now in the archives of the secret service in berlin! this, in itself, is sufficient proof as showing how eager the kaiser was to suppress his declaration of war. it was fortunate that i had kept a copy of the emperor's speech.] chapter iii how the public were bamboozled though the foregoing has been known to the british cabinet for over six years, and through it, no doubt, to the various chancelleries of europe, not a word was allowed to leak out to the world until december nd, --after we had been at war four months. the determination of the war lord of germany--whose preparations against great britain had been so slyly and so cunningly made--was at last revealed by the publication of the french yellow book, which disclosed that in a dispatch dated november nd, , m. jules cambon, the french ambassador in berlin, reported a conversation between the emperor and the king of the belgians in the presence of general von moltke, the chief of the general staff. king albert had till then believed, as most people in great britain had believed, that the emperor was a friend of peace. but at this interview king albert, according to an excellent summary of the dispatches published in the _star_, found the emperor completely changed. he revealed himself as the champion of the war party which he had hitherto held in check. king albert learned that the emperor had "come to think that war with france was inevitable, and that things must come to that sooner or later." general von moltke spoke to king albert "exactly as his sovereign." he, too, declared that "war was necessary and inevitable." he said to king albert: "this time we must settle the business once and for all, and your majesty can have no idea of the irresistible enthusiasm which on that day will sweep over the whole german people." king albert vainly protested that it was a travesty of the intentions of the french government to interpret them in this fashion. he found the emperor "over-wrought and irritable." m. cambon suggested that the change in the emperor's attitude was due to jealousy of the popularity of the crown prince, "who flatters the passions of the pan-germans." he also suggested that the motive of the conversation was to induce king albert to oppose no resistance in the event of war. the french ambassador warned his government that the emperor was familiarising himself with an order of ideas once repugnant to him. in other words, as long ago as the kaiser was no longer working for the peace of europe, but was already in the hands of the prussian gang of militarists, who were working for war. the french yellow book proves up to the hilt the guilt of germany, in shattering the last hopes of peace at the end of july, . russia had proposed a formula for a direct agreement with austria, but on july th herr von jagow, without consulting austria, declared that this proposal was not acceptable. when germany discovered that austria was wavering and becoming more conciliatory, she threw off the mask, and suddenly hurled her ultimatum at russia. m. cambon reminded herr von jagow of his declaration that germany would not mobilise if russia only mobilised on the galician frontier. what was the german minister's reply? it was a subterfuge. he said: "it was not a definite undertaking." the german government, in its white paper, suppressed its despatches during the crucial period to vienna. it did not publish them because, we now know, it did not dare to reveal the truth. germany, as i have shown, had for a long time planned the attack on france through belgium. so long ago, indeed, as may th, , von moltke said: "we must begin war without waiting, in order to brutally crush all resistance." the evidence of the yellow book proves that the emperor and his _entourage_ had irrevocably resolved to frustrate all efforts of the allies to preserve the peace of europe. it confirms the kaiser's secret intentions revealed in the previous chapter, and it establishes--fully and finally--the guilt of the kaiser and of the german government. those british newspapers which were most active and resolute in keeping the country unprepared for the war that has come upon us, and which, if they had had their way, would have left us to-day almost naked to our enemies, are now suddenly rubbing their eyes, and discovering that germany had premeditated war for _quite a long time_. and this is up-to-date journalism! the public, alas! reposed confidence in such journals. happily, they do not now. what the country will never forget, if it consents to forgive, is the perversity with which they so long refused to look facts in the face. it is surely a damning coincidence that when the kaiser and von moltke were telling king albert that war was inevitable, was the very time chosen by the national liberal federation to demand the reduction of our navy estimates, and to threaten the government with a dangerous division in the party unless the demand were complied with! reduction in armaments, forsooth! the government knew the facts, and did indeed resist the demand; but for weeks there was a crisis in the cabinet, and even in january, , as the _globe_ pointed out, a minister took the occasion to declare that a unique opportunity had arrived for revising the scale of our expenditure on armaments! while mr. mckenna was, as late as last november, endeavouring in an outrageous manner to gag the _globe_, and to prevent that newspaper from telling the public the truth of the spy-peril, lord haldane--the scales from whose eyes regarding his friend the kaiser appear now to have fallen--made a speech on november th, , in the house of lords in which he, at last, admitted the existence of spies. the following are extracts from this speech:-- "with the extraordinary intelligence system which germany organised in this country _long before the war_, no doubt they had certain advantages which they ought not to have even of this kind.... if he were to harbour a suspicion it would be that the most formidable people were not aliens, but probably people of british nationality who had been suborned.... he wishes he were sure that when really valuable and dangerous pieces of information were given they were not given by people of our own nationality, but some of the information which had been given, could only have been given by people who had access to it because they were british. his belief was that we had had very little of this kind of thing, but that we had some, and that it was formidable he could not doubt. in seeking these sources of communication with the enemy it was desirable to go about the search in a scientific way, and to cast suspicion where it was most likely to be founded." such a contribution to the spy question was really very characteristic. it, however, came ill from one whose legal _confrère_ was, at that moment, being referred to in the house of commons as having a german chauffeur who had been naturalised after the war broke out, and _had gone for a holiday_ into switzerland! switzerland is a country not in the antarctic ocean, but right on the border of the land of the huns in europe, and the lord chief justice, according to mr. asquith at the guildhall, is in close association with cabinet ministers in these days of crises. perhaps, as a correspondent pointed out, it never struck our lord chancellor that the lord chief justice's "now-british" chauffeur might--though i hope not--have gone through switzerland into germany, and might, if so disposed, quite innocently have related there information to which he had access, not only because he was british, but because he was in the service of a highly-placed person. or, perhaps, he did realise it, and his reference to information given by persons of british nationality was a veiled protest against the action of some of his colleagues--against that other who also has a "now-british" chauffeur, or to a third, whose german governess, married to a german officer, left her position early in november, but has left her german maid behind her. perhaps he did not know these things, or he would also have known that other people may have access to information, not because they are british, but because they are in the employ of british cabinet ministers. hitherto, the security of our beloved empire had been disregarded by party politicians, and their attendant sycophants, in their frantic efforts to "get-on" socially, and to pile up dividends. what did "the city" care in the past for the nation's peril, so long as money was being made? in the many chats i had with the late lord roberts we deplored the apathy with which great britain regarded what was a serious and most perilous situation. but, after all, were the british public really to blame? they are discerning and intelligent, and above all, patriotic. had they been told the hideous truth, they would have risen in their masses, and men would have willingly come forward to serve and defend their country from the dastardly intentions of our hypocritical "friends" across the north sea, and their crafty emperor of the _volte-face_. it is not the fault of the british public themselves. the blame rests as an indelible blot upon certain members of the british government, who now stand in the pillory exposed, naked and ashamed. the apologetic speeches of certain members of the cabinet, and the subdued and altered tone of certain influential organs of the press, are, to the thinker, all-sufficient proof. in the insidious form of fiction--not daring to write fact after my bitter experiences and the seal of silence set upon my lips--i endeavoured, in my novel "spies of the kaiser" and other books, time after time, to warn the public of the true state of affairs which was being so carefully and so foolishly hidden. i knew the truth, but, in face of public opinion, i dared not write it in other fashion. naturally, if the government jeered at me, the public would do likewise. yet i confess that very often i was filled with the deepest regret, and on the continent i discussed with foreign statesmen, and with the kings of italy, servia, roumania and montenegro in private audiences i was granted by them, what i dared not discuss in london. our national existence was certainly at stake. lord roberts knew it. he--with members of the cabinet--had read the kaiser's fateful words which i have here printed in the foregoing pages, and it was this knowledge which prompted him to so strenuously urge the peril of our unpreparedness until the outbreak of war. the hypocrisy of the kaiser is sufficiently revealed by the fact that two months after his declaration at the secret council at potsdam he made a public speech at strasburg on august th in which he assured the world that the peace of europe was not in danger. in the same month, however, that the german emperor disclosed his secret intentions towards great britain, some important military manoeuvres took place in essex and were watched most closely by the german authorities. the spy-peril had then commenced. it would seem that the kaiser took the keenest interest in the matter. despite the fact that there was an officially accredited german military attaché, a number of german agents were also present, and among the number was count eulenburg, a secretary of the german embassy in london. a military correspondent of the _daily mail_ wrote that the count's taking of notes and making of sketches had excited a good deal of adverse criticism among the british officers who were familiar with the fact. the reports of all these secret agents were apparently to be laid before the kaiser, who was well aware of the significance of the operations in essex to both the german army and navy. the only organ of the press which recognised the spy-peril in its earliest stages was the _daily mail_, which never ceased to point out the imminent and serious danger, and to warn the public that germany meant us harm. because of this open policy, it was from time to time denounced by the deluded public--deluded because of official lies--for what was termed its "scaremongerings." but recent events have surely shown the world that that journal spoke the open truth, while all others, and more especially a certain dear old delightful london daily paper, so glibly told us that "there will be no war with germany," while even three days before the outbreak of war this same journal actually made a plea for "german culture." culture indeed! have not the modern huns now revealed themselves? what must readers of that paper now think? it has truly been said that the influence of the half-naked barbarians who swept over the thuringian forests soon after the birth of christianity has never been totally eradicated. there is, _au fond_, an inherent brutality in the german character which the saving grace of the art of music has never destroyed, the brutality which caused the destruction of louvain, of rheims, of ypres, of termonde, of malines, the wreck of cathedrals and churches, and the wholesale savage butchery of innocent men, women, and even tiny children. and this is the gallant and "cultured" nation which has been so admired and eulogised by certain well-known papers: the nation which has so cleverly spread its spies through every phase of our national life, and made such elaborate plans for her conquest that, in her arrogance, she has now risen to defy civilisation. here is one of many equally ridiculous extracts from that same journal which pleaded for "german culture." it was published after a zeppelin had flown miles, on january st, : " ... as far as national danger goes, the thing is not yet within sight. 'dirigibles' may, in the future, be useful for scouting and collecting intelligence when war has once begun, ... but talk about invasion by airship, or bombardment from the sky, need not, for a long time, be considered by ourselves or any other nation." again, a few days later, this same pro-german journal wrote:-- "it is maintained by some of our contemporaries that germany is struggling to regain her position of predominance in europe, such as she held more than thirty years ago. that is not our reading of the situation." i will not quote more. there are dozens of such expressions of opinions in the files of that unreliable organ of "public opinion." where should we have been to-day, i ask, had we suffered ourselves to be led by the nose by this "patriotic" organ of the press, which, with its sinister commercialism on the declaration of war, urged upon us to keep out of the fighting, and to capture the trade of our friends the belgians, french, and russians? this self-proclaimed organ of "humanitarianism" actually urged us to stand aside and make capital out of the agonies of those countries at war. i will quote the following from the article in its actual words on august the th--the day upon which war was declared:-- "if we remained neutral we should be, from the commercial point of view, in precisely the same position as the united states. we should be able to trade with all the belligerents (so far as the war allows of trade with them); we should be able to capture the bulk of their trade in neutral markets; we should keep our expenditure down; we should keep out of debt; we should have healthy finances." and this same organ of humanitarianism has assured us, for years, that no spies of germany existed in england, and that war was utterly out of the question. and the british public have paid their half-pennies for such bamboozle! one sighs to think of it! times without number--even to-day as i write--this journal has sought to ridicule those who attempt to tell the nation the truth concerning the underground peril existing in every part of our islands. its motive for so doing may be left to the inquisitive. probably few men have travelled so constantly up and down europe as i have done, in search of material for my books. in the course of my wanderings, and perhaps a somewhat erratic life on the continent, i have--ever since i recognised the spy-peril--made it my practice to seek out the spies of germany, and i know a good many of them. an incident which may interest the reader occurred on october th, : i was on the platform of waterloo station buying a paper, and chatting with the bookstall clerk, when i noticed a group of men, mostly in shabby overcoats and presenting a woebegone appearance, surrounded by a cordon of police in silver-trimmed helmets--county constabulary from the north. an excited crowd had surrounded them, and as i glanced across my attention was attracted by a man slightly better dressed than the others, though his well-cut grey overcoat was somewhat shabby. as his dark, narrow-set eyes met mine, he lifted his grey plush hat to me, and smiled across in recognition. for a moment i halted, puzzled. i had not realised that the group of men were prisoners. the fellow's face was familiar, and the next instant i recognised him. we had met a dozen times in various places in europe--the last time at salvini's, in milan, early in the previous year. he was a well-known agent of the german general staff, though i had never met him before on british soil. i crossed over to him, arousing the distinct suspicion of the constables and the curiosity of the crowd of onlookers. "you recollect me, mr. le queux--eh?" he asked in good english, with a laugh. "of course," i said, for i could not help a grain of sympathy with him, for, usually a resident of the best hotels, he was now herded with the scum of his compatriots. "well, what's the matter?" "matter!" he echoed. "you see! they've got me at last!" "speak french," i said in that language. "the police won't understand"; for the constable near him looked at me very suspiciously, and i had no desire to be arrested on waterloo platform. "_bien!_" said my friend, whom i will call by his assumed name, von sybertz, "i am arrested. it is the fortune of war! i am simply detained as an alien, and we are going to frimley, i hear. do not say anything; do not make it worse for me. that is all i ask, m'sieur le queux. you know me--too well--eh?" and he grinned. "i shall say nothing," was my reply. "but, in return, tell me what you know. tell me quickly," i urged, for i saw that the constables were preparing to move the prisoners towards the train. "what is the position?" he shrugged his shoulders. "bad. my friends are frantic," he replied. "all their plans have gone wrong. it is, i fear, our downfall. the kaiser is mad. i have no money. i came to england in the middle of august. i have been to portsmouth, to rosyth, hull, and liverpool; now i am deserted. i was arrested yesterday near manchester, though i had registered as german and thought myself safe. i was, as i have always been when in england, a teacher of languages. it covers so much," and he smiled. "is not this meeting strange, eh? we have chatted together--and laughed together, too--in nice, florence, rome--in many places. and now, monsieur, you have the laugh of me--eh? we must be beaten. germany begins to know the truth." "no, not the laugh," i protested. "it is, as you say, the fortune of war that you have been taken." "pass on, please," commanded the big constable gruffly at my elbow. "and you?--you will say nothing? promise me, m'sieur le queux," von sybertz urged again in french. "i have promised," was my reply. "you are arrested--for me, that is sufficient. i wish you no ill-will, though you are my enemy," i added. "ah, yes, you are english!" exclaimed the spy. "i knew--i have known always that the english are gentlemen. _au revoir_--and a thousand thanks for your promise." and my friend the spy--a man who, on account of his refined and gentlemanly bearing, and the money which had, for years, been at his command, was a particularly dangerous secret-agent of the kaiser--lifted his shabby grey hat politely, and then passed dolefully on, with the big constable at his elbow, to the train which stood waiting to convey him to that barbed-wire enclosure high upon frith hill. i watched him pass out of my sight, while the crowd, on their part, watched me in wonder. i knew i had aroused the suspicions of the police by speaking in a foreign tongue. that meeting had been a strangely dramatic one. in those moments there came up before me visions of past meetings. five years before, i had first known him living in a pretty white villa, with palms in front, on mont boron, outside nice, and taking his lunch daily at the reserve, at beaulieu, one of the most expensive luncheon-places in europe. i had met him in the russie in rome, in doney's in florence, and in the pera palace in constantinople. he was a gay, merry companion, and half a dozen times i had been to variety theatres with him and to garish night-cafés afterwards. yet i knew him to be a german international spy, and so intimate had we become that he had scarcely taken the trouble to conceal the fact from me. in those few brief moments there had been enacted before me, at that busy london terminus, the dénouement of a great life-drama, and, as the spy disappeared, there arose before me recollections of the gay places of europe where we had before met--the rooms at monte carlo, the casino at trouville, and other places where he had been such a well-known figure, always exquisitely dressed, always the acme of correctness, and always a great favourite with the fair sex. what would the latter think could they see him now? in silence and in sorrow i have watched the proceedings of many a german spy in this country--watched while the public have been lulled to slumber by those who rule. ah! it has all been a fearful comedy, which has, alas! now ended in tragedy--the tragedy of our dead sons, brothers and husbands who lie in unnumbered graves in france and in belgium. my thoughts revert to individual cases which i have investigated during recent years. at rosyth, i lived in an obscure hotel in queensferry under the name of william kelly, enduring three weeks of wearisome idleness, boating up and down the firth of forth, and watching, with interest, the movements of two germans. they had arrived in edinburgh from a tourist-ship which had touched at leith. the first suspicion of them had been conveyed to me by my friend mr. d. thomson, proprietor of the _dundee courier_, and i sped north to investigate. in passing i may say that this journal was one of the first--with the _daily mail_--to point out the danger of german spies. my journey was not without result, for i waited, i watched, and i returned to the intelligence department with certain important details which proved to be the beginning of a long campaign. those two germans, unsuspicious-looking professors with gold-rimmed spectacles, were making elaborate maps. but these maps were not ordnance maps, but maps of our weaknesses. our secret agents followed them to plymouth, to milford haven, to cromarty, and afterwards on a tour through ireland. surely it is betraying no confidence to say that one of our secret agents--a man whose remarkable career i hope to some day record in the guise of fiction--acted as their guide on that curious tour! i know i have written times without number of spies in the form of fiction. many people have asked me, "is it true?" to such i will say that the dramas i have written, short and long, have been penned solely with one single purpose--in order to call public attention to our peril. many of the stories i have written have been based upon actual fact. half a life spent in travelling up and down europe has shown me most conclusively how cleverly germany has, with the aid of her spies, made elaborate preparations to invade us. so intimate have i been with germany's secret agents that, during this last christmas, i had the _dis_pleasure of sending compliments of the season to two of them! i have dined at the ritz in paris on more than one occasion with the yellow-toothed old baroness x----, an austrian, high-born, smart, and covered with jewellery. with her she has usually one and sometimes two pretty "nieces," who speak french, and pose as french. perhaps they are, but one may be forgiven if one is suspicious. the baroness x---- always has on hand a goodly supply of these "nieces." i have met them at doney's in florence, at ciro's at monte carlo, at maxim's in paris, at shepheard's at cairo. i have chatted with these young ladies at the hotel hungaria in budapest, at the royal at dinard, at the grand in rome, and in the aviary at the métropole at brighton. but these merry little "nieces" are always different! baroness x---- and myself are in entire agreement. she knows what i know, and she sent me a christmas card this season and dated from the hague! she is certainly the ugliest old lady i have ever met, a figure well known in every european capital. her speech is like the filing of brass. as a linguist, however, she is really wonderful. i believe she speaks every european language perfectly, and arabic too, for she once told me, while we were together on a steamer going down the mediterranean, that she was born in smyrna, of austrian parents. as a spy of germany she is unique, and i give her her due. she is amazingly clever. to my certain knowledge, she and her nieces, two years ago, while living in nice beneath the same roof as myself, obtained through a young artillery officer a remarkable set of plans of the defences of the franco-italian frontier near the col di tenda. again, i know how she and her attendant couple of "nieces" were in ireland "on a tour" during the troubles of last year. and, further, i also know how many a military secret of our own war office has been "collected" by one or other of those pretty cigarette-smoking flapper "nieces," with whom i, too, have smoked cigarettes and chatted in french or italian. how often have i seen one or other of these sirens--daughters of a foreign countess as their dupes have believed them to be--driving about london in private cars or in taxis, or supping at restaurants. on a day in last november i found one of these interesting young ladies, dark-haired and _chic_--parisienne, of course--enjoying a tête-à-tête luncheon at the hut at wisley, on the ripley road, her cavalier being a man in khaki. i wondered what information she was trying to obtain. yet what could i do? how could i act, and interrupt such a perfectly innocent _déjeuner à deux_? yes, to the onlooker who knows, the manoeuvres are all very intensely interesting, and would be most amusing, if they were not all so grimly and terribly tragic. and who is to blame for all this? would it be suffered in germany? the law of libel, and a dozen other different acts, are suspended over the head of the unfortunate man who dares to risk ridicule and speak the truth. therefore, with my own personal experience of the utter incapability of the commissioner of metropolitan police to deal with spies, or even to reply to correspondence i have addressed to his hopeless department, and to the still greater discourtesy and amazing chaos existing in his ruling department, the home office, i ask myself whether it is of any use whatever _to trouble, or even exert oneself further in the matter_? it is for my readers, the public themselves, to demand the truth. the public are assuredly not blind to the fact that air raids have been made upon us directed by spies. i can only address these serious words to my circle of readers throughout the kingdom, and to make my bow, assuring them that while they were being gulled and bamboozled by those whom they have so foolishly trusted, i have, at personal loss to myself--which need not be counted--done my level best to counteract the evil which germany has spread in our midst. and my only request is that, by my works, constant and earnest as they have been, i may be judged. chapter iv under the kaiser's thumb by every subtle and underhand means in her power germany has prepared for her supreme effort to conquer us. armies of her spies have swarmed, and still swarm, over great britain, though their presence has been, and is even to-day, officially denied. the method adopted at the outset was to scatter secret agents broadcast, and to allot to each the collection of certain information. men, and women too, in all walks of life have made observations, prepared plans, noted the number of horses locally, the fodder supplies, the direction of telegraph-lines, the quickest method of destroying communications, blowing up tunnels, etc.; in fact, any information which might be of use in the event of a raid upon our shores. each group of spies has acted under the direction of a secret-agent, termed a "fixed post," and all have been, in turn, visited at periods varying from one month to six weeks by a person not likely to be suspected--usually in the guise of commercial-traveller, debt-collector, or insurance-agent, who collected the reports and made payments--the usual stipend being ten pounds per month. some spies in the higher walks of life were, of course, paid well, as much as one thousand pounds a year being given in one case--that of a lady who, until recently, lived in kensington--and in another to a german who, until a few weeks ago, was highly popular in the diplomatic circle. the chief bureau, to which all reports from england were sent, was an innocent-looking office in the montagne de la cour, in brussels--hence ostend was so often made a rendezvous between spies and traitors. it is certainly as well that the authorities have already taken precautions to guard our reservoirs. as far back as five years ago, a large number of the principal water supplies in england were reconnoitred by a band of itinerant musicians, who, though they played mournful airs in the streets, were really a group of very wide-awake german officers. they devoted three months to the metropolis--where they succeeded in making a complete plan of the water-mains supplying east london--and then afterwards visited manchester, glasgow, birmingham, liverpool, leeds, and newcastle. at the latter place they were detected, and being warned by the authorities, fled. they were "warned" because at that time there was no act to deal with them. just at this juncture a most fortunate incident occurred, though probably it will be met with an official denial. a young german who had been making observations around rosyth and beneath the forth bridge, was detected, and fled. the police sought him out and he was compelled to again fly without paying his rent, leaving his suit-case behind. after a month the landlady took this bag to the police, who, on opening it, found a quantity of documents, which were sealed up and sent to london. they were soon found to be most instructive, for not only was there a list of names of persons hitherto unsuspected of espionage, but also a little book containing the secret code used by the spies! needless to say, this has been of the greatest use to those engaged in the work of contra-espionage. of the good work done by the latter, the public, of course, know nothing, but it may be stated that many a confidential report destined for berlin was intercepted before it reached the spy's post-office, the shop of the barber ernst, in london--to which i will later on refer--and many a judicious hint has been given which has caused the suspect to pack his, or her, belongings and return by the hook of holland route. east anglia has, of course, been the happy hunting ground of spies, and the counties of lincoln, norfolk, suffolk and essex have, long ago, been very thoroughly surveyed, and every preparation made for a raid. it was found--as far back as four years ago--that next door, or in the vicinity of most village post-offices near the coast-line of those counties, a foreigner had taken up his residence, that german hairdressers and jewellers were everywhere setting up shops where custom did not warrant it; that germans took sea-side furnished houses or went as paying guests in the country, even in winter; while, of course, the number of german waiters--usually passing as austrians--had increased greatly. when the kaiser rented highcliffe castle, in hampshire, under the pretext that he was ill, he brought with him no fewer than thirty secretaries. why? a foreigner who comes here to recuperate does not want thirty secretaries--even though he may be an emperor! napoleon never wanted such a crowd of scribblers about him. but the truth was that these thirty secretaries were engaged with their imperial master-spy in reorganising and perfecting the various sections of his amazing spy-system in this country--a system that the british government were with culpable untruthfulness declaring only existed in the imagination of a novelist--myself. i wrote pointing out this, but only execrations again fell upon my unfortunate head. i was laughed at as a "sensationalist," scorned by the party of criminal apathy, and a dead set was made at me by a certain section of the press to jeer at, and crush myself and all my works into oblivion. let us go a step further. mr. anthony nugent, who writes with considerable authority in the _globe_, shall here speak. "the oddest situation in england," he says, "was just before the outbreak of the war. we had then, not only an ambassador's cloak in london covering prince lichnowsky, but a real ambassador in herr kühlmann, companion of the victorian order. [i wonder if he still wears the honourable insignia?] the ambassador was an honest man, and believed that he had a free hand in trying to improve our relations with germany. he was only here to give us 'taffy'--as the yankees say. all his speeches at oxford and at city banquets were sincere enough from his point of view, but he knew nothing of what was going on in the chancelleries at berlin, or downstairs in the embassy residence at carlton house terrace. "those who descend the duke of york's steps in pall mall, will see a common, unpretentious door on the right hand side, part of the way down. that was one of the entrances to the embassy, and quite a different class of people used it from those gay folk who came boldly in motor-cars to the front door, which sported the decoration of the imperial eagle. it was by the lower door there passed the principals in the espionage system, and it was in the lower rooms that herr kühlmann interviewed his 'friends.' he was a tall, good-looking man, with a specious suggestion of being straightforward and open dealing, but probably there never was so tortuous-minded a person at the embassy. he was there for many years, and knew all who were worth knowing. he it was who furnished the reports on which the emperor and the crown prince acted. "prince lichnowsky, for instance, foresaw that in the event of war, the unionists in ulster would support the government. herr kühlmann had sent over spies who masqueraded as journalists, and they came back from belfast believing that civil war was inevitable. herr kühlmann accepted their view, and thus deceived the kaiser and the german chancellor. the same gentleman was much interested in the indian movement, and i remember discussing with him the causes that led to the murder of a great anglo-indian official at the imperial institute. he was convinced that india was ripe for revolt. again he deceived the emperor on the subject. the german spy system was wide, and it was thorough, but its chief lacked imagination, and took niggling and petty views. in a word it is efficient in signalling, prying into arrangements, spreading false news, and securing minor successes, and that it can still do here, but had it realised how the whole world would be opposed to it, there would have been no war." the gross licence extended to our alien enemies in peace-time has, surely, been little short of criminal. fancy there having been a "german officers' club" in london, close to piccadilly circus! could anyone imagine an "english officers' club" in berlin--or in any other continental capital, for the matter of that? in the first place, there would not have been a sufficient number of english officers to run a club, even if it had been allowed by the german authorities, which would have been most unlikely. but, on the other hand, there were enough german officers in london, not only to support a club, but to give a large and expensive ball not very long ago at a well-known west end hotel! germany has a large army, and a considerable navy, but is leave lavished with such prodigality on her officers as to make it worth their while to have a special club of their own in the metropolis? one can hardly imagine this to be the case. why, then, were there so many german officers in london? we may be sure that they were not here for the benefit of _our_ country. the german officers' club was no secret society, and was, therefore, winked at by the sleepy british authorities. the war office may have argued that it enabled them to keep an eye on them, and there may be something in that plea. but what possible justification could have been found for allowing a considerable number of german officers to assemble near southborough--between tonbridge and tunbridge wells--not so very long ago, and to carry out what practically amounted to a "staff ride" in the "garden of england" over a very important strategic position? fancy such a piece of espionage being attempted in germany! it is even known that the german ambassador dined with the officers in question. had the german officers' club been under observation, could this have possibly been done without the cognisance of the authorities? the authorities knew of all that was in progress, but calmly looked on, and, as usual, did nothing. the downfall of england was being plotted, but what did they care, so long as all went smoothly and they enjoyed their own social standing and their own emoluments. there is an air of refreshing candour and simplicity in the official statement that no alien enemy is permitted to reside in a prohibited area without a special licence granted, after his case has been carefully examined, by the police. now, we know that proprietors and managers of hotels and licensed premises, as well as prominent residents, are usually on good terms with the police. it would surely be to their interest to cultivate good relations with them. and as the lord chancellor has assured us that the germans are people of "greater astuteness," it is only reasonable to suppose they would be particularly careful to entrust their spying work in this country to only the smartest and most crafty emissaries. one can imagine that a really clever german spy "bent on business" has had but very little difficulty in hoodwinking the honest man in blue, and obtaining from him the "permit" required for his signalling, or other work on the coast. the experiences of the last four months at liége, antwerp, mons, rheims, ypres, and other places, has taught us that it is not always the alien who is the spy. in each of those towns men who had lived for years as highly respectable and law-abiding citizens, and whom everyone believed to be french or belgian, suddenly revealed themselves as secret agents of the invaders, acting as their guides, and committing all sorts of outrages. in our own country it is the same. there are to-day many who have lived among us for years, and are highly respected, only waiting for the signal to be given to commence their operations. it is true that bombs from german air machines have been dropped on english ground--one fell in a garden at dover and damaged a cabbage, or maybe two--also that zeppelins flew over norfolk and dropped bombs, but so far no air fleet from germany has given the signal for german spies to start their arranged work of destruction in our midst, for the enemy has declared with its usual cynical frankness that their army of spies will only start their dastardly work when all is ready for the raid and the fleet of zeppelins sail over london and give the signal. chapter v how spies work the german spy system, as established in england, may be classified under various heads--military, naval, diplomatic, and also the _agents provocateurs_, those hirelings of germany who have, of late, been so diligent in stirring up sedition in ireland, and who, since the war began, have endeavoured, though not successfully, to engineer a strike of seamen at liverpool and a coal strike. first, every german resident in this country may be classed as a spy, for he is, at all times, ready to assist in the work of the official secret-agents of the fatherland. the military spy is usually a man who has received thorough instruction in sketching, photography, and in the drafting of reports, and on arrival here, has probably set up in business in a small garrison town. the trade of jeweller and watchmaker is one of the most favoured disguises, for the spy can rent a small shop, and though he cannot repair watches himself, he can engage an unsuspecting assistant to do so. therefore, to all intents and purposes, his business is a legitimate one. if he is a devout church or chapel-goer, and subscribes modestly to the local charities, he will soon become known, and will quickly number among his friends some military men from whom he can obtain information regarding movements of troops, and a-thousand-and-one military details, all of which he notes carefully in his reports, the latter being collected by a "traveller in jewellery," who visits him at regular intervals, and who makes payment in exchange. every report going out of great britain is carefully tabulated and indexed by a marvellous system in berlin. these, in turn, are compared, analysed and checked by experts, so that, at last, the information received is passed as accurate, and is then indexed for reference. now the military spy also keeps his eyes and ears open regarding the officers of the garrison. if an officer is in financial difficulties, the fact is sent forward, and some money-lender in london will most certainly come to his assistance and thus ingratiate himself as his "friend." again, there are wives of officers who are sometimes a little indiscreet, and in more than one known case blackmail has been levied upon the unfortunate woman, and then, suddenly, an easy way out of it all has been craftily revealed to her by a blackguard in german pay. from the wide-spread secret-service of germany, nothing is sacred. the german general staff laughs at our apathy, and boasts that it knows all about us, the military and civil population alike. in the archives of its intelligence department there are thousands upon thousands of detailed reports--furnished constantly throughout the past ten years--regarding the lives and means of prominent persons in england, with descriptions of their homes wherein, one day, the enemy hope to billet their troops. these unscrupulous men who act as "fixed-posts"--and it is no exaggeration to say that there are still hundreds in england alone, notwithstanding all official assurances to the contrary--have all gone through an elaborate system of training in signalling, in reducing messages to code, and in decoding them, in map-making, in the use of carrier-pigeons, and, in some cases, in the use of secret wireless. the naval spy works in a somewhat similar manner to his military colleague. at every naval port in great britain it is quite safe to assume that there are spies actively carrying on their work, though it is quite true that one or two, who have long been under suspicion, have now found it wise to disappear into oblivion. a favourite guise of the spy in a naval port is, it seems, to pose as a hairdresser, for in pursuance of that humble and most honourable calling, the secret agent has many opportunities to chat with his customers, and thus learn a good deal of what is in progress in both port and dockyard: what ships are putting to sea, and the strength and dispositions of various divisions of our navy. cases in recent years of spies at portsmouth, chatham, and plymouth have revealed how active germany has been in this direction. in one case, at plymouth, a salary of £ a year was offered to a mr. duff for information regarding naval matters, on the pretext that this information was required by a naval and military journal in germany. mr. duff, however, communicated with the authorities, who promptly arrested the spy--a man named schulz, who lived on a yacht on the river yealm. he was tried at the devon assizes and, certain documents being found upon him, he was sentenced to a year and nine months' imprisonment. what, we wonder, would have been his fate if he had been british, and had been arrested in germany? of diplomatic espionage little need be said in these pages. every nation has its secret service in diplomacy, a service rendered necessary perhaps by the diplomatic juggling of unscrupulous representatives of various nations. many diplomatic spies are women moving in the best society, and such persons abound in every capital in the world. the means of communication between the spy and his employers are several. innocent sketches may be made of woodland scenery, with a picturesque windmill and cottage in the foreground, and woods in the distance. yet this, when decoded in berlin--the old windmill representing a lighthouse, the trees a distant town, and so forth--will be found to be an elaborate plan of a harbour showing the disposition of the mines in its channel! again, there are codes in dozens of different forms of letters or figures with various combinations, key-numbers, cross-readings, etc. there is the three-figure code, the five-figure code, and so on, all of which, though difficult, can, if sufficient time be spent upon them, be eventually deciphered by those accustomed to dealing with such problems. far more difficult to decipher, however, are communications written as perfectly innocent ordinary correspondence upon trade or other matters, yet, by certain expressions, and by mentioning certain names, objects, or prices, they can be rightly read only by the person with whom those meanings have been prearranged. from the daring movements of the german fleet in the north sea it would appear that, through spies, the enemy are well aware of the limit and position of our mine-fields, while the position of every buoy is certainly known. when the first attack was made upon yarmouth, the enemy took his range from certain buoys, and the reason the shells fell short was that only the day before those buoys had been moved a mile further out to sea. again, for many years--indeed, until i called public attention to the matter--foreign pilots were allowed to ply their profession in the humber, and by that means we may rest assured that germany made many surveys of our east coast. the spies of germany are to be found everywhere, yet the home office and the police have shown themselves quite incapable of dealing effectively with them. the war office, under the excellent administration of lord kitchener, has surely been busy enough with military matters, and has had no time to deal with the enemy in our midst. neither has the admiralty. therefore the blame must rest upon the home office, who, instead of dealing with the question with a firm and drastic hand, actually issued a communiqué declaring that the spy peril no longer existed! as an illustration of germany's subtle preparations in the countries she intends to conquer, and as a warning to us here in great britain, surely nothing can be more illuminating than the following, written by a special correspondent of the _times_ with the french army near rheims. that journal--with the _daily mail_--has always been keenly alive to the alien peril in england, and its correspondent wrote:-- "nowhere else in france have the germans so thoroughly prepared their invasion as they did in champagne, which they hoped to make theirs. in the opinion of the inhabitants of �pernay, the saving of the town from violent pillage is only due to the desire of the germans not to ravage a country which they regarded as being already german soil. the wanton bombardment of rheims is accepted almost with delight, as being a clear indication that the enemy has been awakened by the battle of the marne from those pleasant dreams of conquest which inflamed the whole german nation with enthusiasm at the outset of the war. "the spy system thought out in time of peace in preparation for what is happening to-day has served germany well, and every day the accuracy of german gunfire pays a tribute to the zeal and efficiency with which these loathsome individuals accomplish a task for which they have sold their honour as frenchmen. hardly a week passes without some fresh discovery being made. at the headquarters of the different army corps along this section of the front, hardly a day passes without the arrest and examination of suspect peasants or strangers from other provinces. elaborate underground telephone installations have been discovered and destroyed. "one day a gendarme who wished to water his horse approached a well in the garden of an abandoned house. at the bottom of the well there was not truth but treason. comfortably installed in this disused shaft a german spy was engaged in making his report by telephone to the german intelligence department. "the mentality of the spy can never be explained, for how can one account for the mixture of the fine quality of bravery and the despicable greed of money which will keep a man in a city like rheims, exposed every hour of the day and night to death from the splinter of a shell fired at the town by his own paymasters? i do not suggest for a moment that of the , people who still inhabit the town of rheims and its cellars there is any large proportion of traitorous spies, but to the french intelligence department there is no question whatsoever that there is still a very efficient spying organisation at work in the city." among us here in great britain, i repeat, are men--hundreds of them--who are daily, nay hourly, plotting our downfall, and are awaiting the signal to act as the german general staff has arranged that they shall act. to attempt to disguise the fact longer is useless. we have lived in the fool's paradise which the government prepared for us long enough. we were assured that there would be no war. but war has come, and thousands of the precious lives of our gallant lads have been lost--and thousands more will yet be lost. we cannot trust the german tradesman who has even lived long among us apparently honourable and highly respected. a case in point is that of a man who, for the past twenty-six years, has carried on a prosperous business in the north of london. at the outbreak of war he registered himself as an alien, and one day asked the police for a permit to travel beyond the regulation five miles in order to attend a concert. he was watched, and it was found that, instead of going to the concert, he had travelled in an opposite direction, where he had met and conferred with a number of his compatriots who were evidently secret agents. this is but one illustration of many known cases in the metropolis. can we still close our eyes to what germany intends to do? the government knew the enemy's intentions when, in , there was placed before them the emperor's speech, which i have already reproduced. perhaps it may not be uninteresting if i recount how i myself was approached by the german general staff--and i believe others must have been approached in a like manner. the incident only serves to show the "astuteness"--as lord haldane has so well put it--of our enemies. one day, in september, , i received through a mutual friend, a lady, an invitation to dine at the house of a prominent official at the war office, who, in his note to me, declared that he had greatly admired my patriotism, and asked me to dine _en famille_ one sunday evening. i accepted the invitation, and went. the official's name, i may here say, figures often in your daily newspapers to-day. to my great surprise, i found among the guests the german ambassador, the chancellor of the embassy, the military and naval attachés with their ladies, and several popular actors and actresses. in a corner of the drawing-room after dinner, i found myself chatting with a german attaché, who turned the conversation upon my anti-german writings. by his invitation, i met him at his club next day. he entertained me to an expensive luncheon, and then suddenly laughed at me for what he termed my misguided propaganda. "there will be no war between your country and mine," he assured me. "you are so very foolish, my dear mr. le queux. you will ruin your reputation by these fixed ideas of yours. why not change them? we desire no quarrel with great britain, but we, of course, realise that you are doing what you consider to be your duty." "it _is_ my duty," i responded. my diplomatic friend sucked at his cigar, and laughed. "as a literary man you, of course, write to interest the public. but you would interest your public just as _easily_ by writing in _favour_ of germany--and, i tell you that we should quickly recognise the favour you do us--_and recompense you for it_." i rose from my chair. i confess that i grew angry, and i told him what was in my mind. i gave him a message to his own secret service, in berlin, which was very terse and to the point, and then i left the room. but that was not all. i instituted inquiries regarding the official at the war office who had been the means of introducing us, and within a fortnight that official--whose dealings with the enemy were proved to be suspicious--was relieved of his post. i give this as one single instance of the cunning manner in which the german secret service have endeavoured to nobble and bribe me, so as to close my mouth and thus combat my activity. another instance was when the norddeutscher lloyd line, of bremen, kindly invited me to take a voyage round the world, free of expense, so that i might visit the various german colonies and write some descriptions of them. and, on a third occasion, german diplomats were amazingly kind to me, both in constantinople and in belgrade, and again broadly hinted at their readiness to win me over to their side. how pitiable, how absolutely criminal our apathy has been! do not the souls of a million dead upon the battlefields of france and belgium rise against the plotters to-day? does not the onus of the frightful loss of the flower of our dear lads lie, not upon our four-hundred-a-year legislators, but upon some of the golfing, dividend-seeking, pushful men who have ruled our country through the past ten years? without politics, as i am, i here wish to pay a tribute--the tribute which the whole nation should pay--to mr. lloyd george and his advisers, who came in for so much adverse criticism before the war. i declare as my opinion--an opinion which millions share--that the manner in which the chancellor of the exchequer faced and grappled with the financial situation at the outbreak of war, was an illustration of british pluck, of coolness and of readiness that is unequalled in our history. the poor suffered nothing, and to-day--even though we are struggling for our very existence--we hear not a word of that winter-cry "the unemployed." i trust, therefore, that the reader will find my outspoken criticisms just, and perfectly without prejudice, for, as i have already stated, my only feeling is one of pure patriotism towards my king and the country that gave me birth. though i am beyond the age-limit to serve in the army, it is in defence of my king and country, and in order to reveal the naked truth to a public which has so long been pitiably bamboozled and reassured, that i have ventured to pen this plain, serious, and straightforward indictment, which no amount of official juggling can ever disprove. chapter vi some methods of secret agents some of the cases of espionage within my own knowledge--and into many of them i have myself made discreet inquiry--may not prove uninteresting. foreign governesses, usually a hard-worked and poorly-paid class, are often in a position to furnish important information, and very serious cases have recently been proved against them. these young women have lived in the intimacy of the homes of men of every grade, cabinet ministers, members of parliament, financiers, officers of both services, and officials of every class. by the very nature of their duties, and their extreme intimacy with their employers, they are, naturally, in a position to gather much valuable information, and often even to get sight of their employers' correspondence, which can easily be noted and handed over to the proper quarter for transmission to berlin. here is a case already reported by me. not very long ago, in the service of a very well-known member of parliament living in essex, lived a clever, good-looking, and intensely musical young german governess, who was regarded by the member's wife as "a perfect treasure," and who took the greatest interest in her two little charges. for over two years fräulein had been in the service of this pleasant household, being, of course, regarded as "one of the family." in the grounds of the big country house in question was a secluded summer-house, and here fräulein was in the habit of reading alone, and writing her letters. one hot summer's afternoon she had gone there as usual, when about an hour later one of the under-gardeners, in passing, saw her lying back in her chair unconscious. she had been seized with a fit. he raised the alarm, she was carried back to the house, and the doctor was at once telephoned for. meanwhile her mistress, greatly alarmed, went out to the summer-house in order to see whether her unconsciousness could be accounted for. upon the table she noticed a number of documents which did not appear to be letters which a governess might receive, and, on examination, she found to her dismay that, not only were they carefully-written reports of conversations between her husband and a certain cabinet minister who had been their guest during the previous week-end, but there were also copies of several confidential letters from one of the government departments to her husband. that the girl was a clever and most dangerous spy was at once proved, yet, rather than there should be any unpleasant publicity, the girl was, that same night, packed off unceremoniously across to the hook of holland. in another instance a german governess in the employ of an officer's wife at chatham was discovered endeavouring to obtain confidential information; and in a third, at plymouth, a charming young lady was caught red-handed. these three glaring cases are within my own knowledge; therefore, there probably have been many others where, after detection, the girls have been summarily dismissed by their employers, who, naturally, have hesitated to court publicity by prosecution. it therefore behoves everyone employing a foreign governess--and more especially anyone occupying an official position--to be alert and wary. many of these young ladies are known to have been trained for the dastardly work which they have been so successfully carrying out, and, while posing as loyal and dutiful servants of their employers, and eating at their tables, they have been listening attentively to their secrets. we have, of late, been told a good deal of the danger of secret agents among the alien staffs of hotels, and, in deference to public opinion, the authorities have cleared our hotels of all germans and austrians. though holding no brief for the alien servant, i must say, at once, that i have never known one single instance of a hotel servant of lower grade being actually proved to be a secret agent. it is a fact, however, that among the hall-porters of some of the principal hotels were, until the outbreak of war, several well-known spies. the class of person who is much more dangerous is the so-called "naturalised" alien. among these are, no doubt, spies, men who have long ago taken out naturalisation papers for the sole purpose of blinding us, and of being afforded opportunities to pursue their nefarious calling. to-day, while thousands of men who have for years worked hard for a living are in idleness in detention camps, these gentry are free to move about where they will because they are so-called british subjects. surely the heart of a german is always german, just as the heart of a true-born briton is always british, whatever papers he may sign. i contend that every german who has been "naturalised" during the last seven years should be treated as other aliens are treated, and we should then be nearer the end of the spy-peril. "naturalised" foreign baronets, financiers, merchants, ship-owners, and persons of both sexes of high social standing, constitute a very grave peril in our midst, though mr. mckenna has not yet appeared to have awakened to it, even though the press and the public are, happily, no longer blind to the german preparations. in the month of november, while spies were being reported in hundreds by the public themselves, the home office was actually engaged in holding an inquiry _into whether there had really been any atrocities committed by the german soldiery in belgium_! and i was officially asked to assist in this! as far as can be gathered from mr. mckenna's reply in november to the parliamentary attack on the methods of dealing with the spy peril, the position was still a most unsatisfactory one. though he admitted that we still have , enemy aliens at large among us, nobody is assumed to be a spy unless he is an unnaturalised german. even if he fulfils this condition, he is then to be caught "in the act" of spying, or if really strong suspicion be aroused, some evidence against him may be "looked for." but until this is "found," and so long as he complies with the posted-up registration orders, etc., he may continue unmolested. in short, after the steed is stolen, our stable door may be shut. one sighs in despair. could anything be more hopeless? if the matter were not so very serious, the position would be gilbertian in its comedy. though we are at war, our sons being shot down and our national existence threatened, yet there is yet another very strong factor in favour of the german spy. according to mr. mckenna, he himself is only responsible for the london district, while elsewhere the county constabulary, under the chief constables of counties, are "to pay every attention to representations of the naval and military authorities," in the matter of hostile espionage.[ ] this strikes me as one of the finest examples of "how not to do it" that we have heard of for some time, and it must indeed be a source of delight to the secret "enemy within our gates." fancy such a ridiculous regulation in germany! of some of the hundreds of cases of undoubted espionage which have been brought to my notice since the outbreak of war, i will enumerate a few. one was that of two germans who--posing as poles--rented a large country house at £ a year, bought a quantity of furniture, and settled down to a quiet life. the house in question was situated at a very important point on the main london and north western railway, and the grounds ran down to a viaduct which, if destroyed, would cut off a most important line of communication. the suspicion of a neighbour was aroused. he informed the police, and a constable _in full uniform_ began to make inquiries of the neighbours, the result being that the interesting pair left the house one night, and have not since been seen. outside london, the county constabulary are making praiseworthy efforts to find spies, but when men in uniform set out to make inquiries--as they unfortunately do in so many cases--then the system becomes hopeless. the same thing happened in a small coast town in norfolk where signalling at night had been noticed. indeed, in two instances in the same town, and again in dunbar, the appearance of the police inspector caused the flight of the spies--as undoubtedly they were. as regards the county of norfolk, it has long received the most careful attention of german secret agents. at the outbreak of war the chief constable, major egbert napier, with commendable patriotism, devoted all his energies to the ferreting out of suspicious characters, spies who were no doubt settled near and on the coast in readiness to assist the enemy in case of an attempted landing. by major napier's untiring efforts a very large area has been cleared, more especially from cromer along by sheringham, weybourne--a particularly vulnerable point--and from cley-next-the-sea to wells and king's lynn. major napier engaged, at my instigation, a well-known detective-officer who, for some years, had been engaged at the criminal investigation department at new scotland yard, specially attached to deal with german criminals for extradition back to germany. he was a russian, naturalised english, and spoke german perfectly, being born in riga--and an ideal officer to inquire into the whole german spy system in norfolk. well, after major napier had asked him to go forth on his mission, i saw him and wished him all success. within a fortnight this shrewd officer returned to me with a hopeless story. wherever he went the coastguard refused to tell him anything, or any of their suspicions, as they said they were sworn to secrecy, while the superintendents and inspectors of the norfolk constabulary--with few exceptions--even though he bore proper credentials signed by the chief constable himself, actually _refused to give him any assistance or information whatsoever_! this keen and clever detective-officer returned to the chief constable of norfolk and told him that he was certain spies still existed along the coast, but expressed regret at the hopeless state of affairs. if any government authority would like to question the officer upon his experiences, i shall be pleased to furnish that department with his private address. i had a curious experience myself in norfolk. in a field, high upon the cliff between cromer and runton, i last year established a high-power wireless installation. when in working order--with a receiving range of , miles or more, according to atmospheric conditions--i allowed visitors to inspect it. there came along certain inquisitive persons with a slight accent in their speech, and of these i believe no fewer than eight are now interned. it formed quite an interesting trap for spies! from the great mass of authentic reports of german spies lying before me as i write, it is difficult to single out one case more illuminating than another. it may perhaps be of interest, however, to know that i was the first to report to the authorities a secret store of german arms and ammunition in london, afterwards removed, and subsequently seized after the outbreak of war. other stores have, it is said, been found in various parts of the country, the secrets of which, of course, have never been allowed to leak out to the public, for fear of creating alarm. that secret stores of petrol, in readiness for that raid upon us by zeppelins which germany has so long promised, have been thought to exist in scotland, is shown by the reward of £ , offered by the commander-in-chief in scotland for any information leading to the discovery of any such bases. but in connection with this, the situation is really most ludicrous. though, on november th, , a london newspaper reproduced a copy of the poster offering the reward--a poster exhibited upon hoardings all over scotland--yet the press censor actually issued to the london press orders to suppress all fact or comment concerning it! we may surely ask why? if scotland is told the truth, why may not england know it? between rye and winchelsea of late, on four occasions, people have been detected flashing lights from the most seaward point between those places to german submarines. in fact, two of the spies actually had the audacity to build a shanty from which they signalled! this matter was promptly reported by certain residents in the locality to the dover military authorities, but they replied that it was "out of their division." then they reported to the admiralty, but only received the usual typewritten "thanks" in these terms:-- "the director of the intelligence division presents to mr. ---- his compliments, and begs to acknowledge with thanks the receipt of his letter of ----. "admiralty war staff: intelligence division." now what happened? early in the morning of december th, in the midst of a thick hazy rain, half-a-dozen german submarines are reported to have made a daring dash for the western entrance of dover harbour, where several of our warships were lying at anchor. fortunately they were discovered by men working the searchlights, heavy guns were turned upon them, and one submarine, if not more, was sunk. we have to thank spies in the vicinity for this attempt, in which we so narrowly escaped disaster. if not through spies, how could the enemy have known that, just at the time the attack was made, dover was without its boom-defence? and the question arises whether the spies were those detected near rye? in all probability there exists somewhere in the neighbourhood a secret wireless station sufficiently powerful to send intelligence say five miles to sea by day, and double that distance at night. by this means the enemy's submarines could easily learn the truth. therefore the authorities should lose no time in making domiciliary visits to any house where a suspect may be living. and if secret wireless exists near dover, then there may be--as there probably are, since small wireless stations are not costly to fit up, and could, till the outbreak of war, be purchased without arousing the least suspicion--other stations in the vicinity of other of our naval bases, the peril of which will easily be recognised. the replies by the admiralty to persons who give information are curt and unsatisfactory enough, yet if a resident in the metropolitan area writes to the chief commissioner of police upon a serious matter concerning espionage--he will _not even receive the courtesy of a reply_! at least, that has been my own experience. it is appalling to think that the authorities are so utterly incapable of dealing with the situation to-day, even though our men are laying down their lives for us, and fighting as only britons can fight. existence of carefully-prepared concrete emplacements, in readiness for the huge german krupp guns, has been reported to me from a dozen different quarters--sometimes they are concealed in the form of a concrete carriage-drive, in others as a tennis-court, or a yard enclosed by stables. workmen who have actually been employed in laying them down, and have given me the enormous thicknesses of the concrete used, have communicated with me, and indicated where these long-considered preparations of the enemy are to-day to be found. but as it is nobody's business, and as mr. mckenna has assured us that we are quite safe, and that the spy-peril has been snuffed-out, the position is here again hopeless, and we are compelled to live daily upon the edge of a volcano. oh! when will england rub her eyes and awaken? as events have proved in belgium and france, so here, in our own dear country, i fear we have spies in every department of the public service. i say boldly, without fear of contradiction--that if our apathetic home department continues to close its eyes as it is now doing, we shall be very rudely stirred up one day when the zeppelins come in force--as the authorities fear by the darkening of london. from the lessons taught us in france, i fear that in every department of our public services, the post-office, the railways, the docks, the electric generating-stations, in our arsenals, in our government factories, and among those executing certain government contracts--everywhere, from wick to walmer--the spy still exists, and he is merely awaiting the signal of his masters to strike: to blow up bridges and tunnels, to destroy water-supplies, docks, power-stations and wireless-stations: to cut telegraphs and telephones, and to create panic--a sudden and fearful panic--which it would be to the interest of the invaders to create. at my suggestion the postmaster-general, at the outbreak of war, ordered each letter-carrier in the kingdom to prepare lists of foreigners on their "walk," and upon those lists hundreds of arrests of aliens took place. no doubt many spies were "rounded-up" by this process, but alas! many still remain, sufficient of the "naturalised,"--even those "naturalised" after the war,--to form a very efficient advance-guard to our invading enemy, who hate us with such a deadly, undying hatred. if zeppelins are to raid us successfully they must have secret bases for the supply of petrol for their return journey. such bases can only be established in out-of-the-way places where, on descending, air-craft would not be fired upon. the moors, those of yorkshire, dartmoor, and certain districts of scotland and the lake country, are admirably adapted for this purpose, for there are spots which could easily be recognised from the air--by the direction of the roads, running like ribbons across the heather--where considerable stores could easily be secreted without anyone being the wiser. this is a petrol war, and if any raid is attempted upon the country, petrol will be wanted in great quantities by the enemy. is it not, therefore, with our knowledge of germany's long-completed preparations at maubeuge, antwerp, along the heights of the aisne, and in other places, quite safe to assume that considerable--even greater--preparations have already been made in our own country--made in the days when the british public were lulled to sleep by the judas-like assurances of the kaiser and his friendly visits to our king, and when any honest attempt to lift the veil was met with abuse and derision. if we assume that preparations have been made, it is, surely, our duty to now discover them. petrol and ammunition are the two things which the enemy will want if they dare to attempt a dash upon our coast. therefore it would be very wise for the authorities to make a house-to-house visitation, and search from garret to cellar all premises until lately occupied by aliens in the eastern counties, and all houses still occupied by "naturalised" foreigners, who, if they were honestly "british subjects" as they declare, could not possibly object. there are many licensed premises, too, held by the "naturalised," and the cellars of these should certainly be searched. hundreds of "naturalised" germans and austrians are living--immune from even suspicion. they are of all grades, from watchmakers and hotel-keepers to wealthy financiers. if only the government would deal with the "naturalised," as any sane system of government would in these unparalleled circumstances, then it would give a free hand to the chief constables of lincolnshire, norfolk, suffolk, essex, and kent to clear out, once and for ever, the canker-worm of espionage which has, alas! been allowed to eat so very nearly into britain's heart. i am not affected by that disease known as spy-mania. i write only of what i know, of what i have witnessed with my own eyes and have heard with my own ears. i therefore appeal most strongly, with all my patriotism, to the reader, man or woman, to pause, to reflect, to think, and to demand that justice shall, at this crisis of our national life, be done. we want no more attempts to gag the press, no evasive speeches in the house--no more pandering to the foreign financier or bestowing upon him birthday honours: no more kid-gloved legislation for our monied enemies whose sons, in some cases, are fighting against us, but sturdy, honest and deliberate action--the action with the iron-hand of justice in the interests of our own beloved empire. footnotes: [footnote : even at this moment of our peril, it is doubtful if the public will find at new scotland yard a single detective able to pass himself off as a german and thus be in a position to make close investigation. there are, certainly, several who speak german, but in a dozen words they betray their british nationality. surely the police cannot hope for good results without possessing agents competent to carry out what is a difficult and delicate task. the extradition department is no longer what it was under chief-inspector greenham.] chapter vii master-spies and their cunning we shall probably never be able to realise a hundredth part of what germany has done by her spy system, but we know enough to realise that, for years, no country and no walks of life--from the highest to the lowest--have been free from the presence of her ubiquitous and unscrupulous secret agents. nothing in the way of espionage has been too large, or too small, for attention. her spies have swarmed in all cities, and in every village; her agents have ranked among the leaders of social and commercial life, and among the sweepings and outcasts of great communities. the wealthiest of commercial men have not shrunk from acting as her secret agents. she has not been above employing beside them the very dregs of the community. no such a system has ever been seen in the world; i hope it is safe to say that no such system will ever be seen again. indeed, so despicable is this german spy system that even the leader of the opposition in the reichstag, herr richter, one day rose from his seat and protested against "the more than doubtful morality of the individuals employed." this protest was made because it was known that the secret service of germany countenanced rank immorality and vice, the suborning of high officials, and the shameless engagement of women of ill-fame in the search for information. the official feeling in germany concerning such debased methods was well illustrated by the reply of herr von puttkamer, the minister for the interior, who said:-- "it is the right and duty of the state to employ special and extraordinary methods, and even if that honest and estimable functionary, police-councillor rumpff, has employed the methods of which he is accused, in order to secure for the state the benefits of useful intelligence, i here publicly express to him my satisfaction and thanks." that statement is certainly informing. it reveals to us the low, vile methods of our enemies. the german spy system, as we know it to-day, is the creation of one carl stieber, and it dates back to about the year . stieber, who was an obscure saxon, began his career of espionage by betraying the revolutionary socialists, with whom he pretended to sympathise, and so successful was he in this respect that he very soon obtained employment among the regular police, and was afterwards created head of a department which finally worked quite independently, and was beyond police control. stieber could never have achieved the success he did but for the luck or good management which, during his work among the revolutionaries, brought him to the notice of frederick william, the king of prussia. under the royal patronage he was secure against counter-plotters among the military and the police, both of whom hated him beyond measure as an interloper who was seen to be dangerous to their interests. up to this time, it should be remembered, the game of espionage, so far as military matters were concerned, had been a matter solely for the military authorities, and they did not fail to resent the new influence, which very speedily threatened to make itself all-powerful--as, indeed, it ultimately did--in this particular field of prussian activity. it must not be supposed that stieber--upon whose model the russian secret police was afterwards established--confined his activities to either the enemies or the criminals of prussia. he established a close watch on persons even of high rank, and many a tit-bit of information went to regale the mind of his royal master. in a sense, frederick william was, like the modern kaiser, the master-spy, for without his confidence stieber could never have achieved the success he did, against both the military and the police, influences which, even in those days, were almost, but not quite, all-powerful in germany. stieber's greatest achievement in the field of actual spying was his work which led to the crushing of austria at sadowa in . at this he laboured for years, and it is not too much to say that his work assured the success of the campaign. by the time the prussian armies were on the move, stieber had established such an army of spies and agents throughout bohemia, that it was a matter of absolute impossibility for the unfortunate austrians to make a single move without information being promptly carried to their enemies. so successful was stieber's method found, that it was only natural that it should be tried in other countries. france was the next victim, and the campaign of - is so recent that it is hardly necessary to do more than remind the reader how thoroughly the germans were served by their spy system. as in the present war, the advancing germans found, in every town and village, swarms of agents who were ready to provide them with information and guidance, and it was even said that the german invaders were better acquainted with the country they were attacking than were the officers entrusted with its defence. we have seen the same thing in the present war, when time after time the germans have been led into towns and districts by men who have lived there for years and, in many cases, had even become naturalised frenchmen the better to carry on their work. it speaks volumes for the perfection of the german military machine that, on the outbreak of hostilities, these men should have been able, without the slightest difficulty, to join the corps operating in the districts with which they had become perfectly familiar by years of residence. and they were able, not merely to give topographical information, but even to indicate where stores of food and petrol could be found, and to point out to their comrades where the best prospects of loot and plunder existed. all this was merely a natural development of the system which carl stieber established, and which his successors have developed to the highest pitch of unscrupulous perfection. after the war of - , the system which stieber invented found its place in german administration, and it has continued ever since as a separate and highly-organised department, spending vast sums of money--about £ , a year--and extending its ramifications to an incredible extent. it may be mentioned, incidentally, that its workings and methods have been copied by the german commercial world, and many a british employer has, during the past few years, paid dearly through his closest commercial secrets being given away to his keenest german rivals by the patient, diligent and hard-working german clerk, who was willing to work for a mere pittance for the advantage of "learning english" and studying british methods. there cannot now be the slightest doubt that thousands of these german employees were, before the war, really in the pay of german firms, and were busily engaged in sending to germany all the information they could possibly pick up which would tend to help the german and injure the british merchant and manufacturer. i hope they have over-reached themselves, and that when the war is over we shall see a great deal less of the english worker being supplanted by spying germans, whose apparent cheapness has been the costliest labour englishmen have ever employed. "never trust or employ a german, and always make him pay cash" ought to be the british commercial motto for the future. stieber died in the early nineties, but he was succeeded by others quite as clever, and even more unscrupulous than himself, some of whom--though by no means all--have become faintly known to us through the revelations made in the too few cases of espionage where prosecution has been undertaken by our sleepy authorities. i say "very few," of course, in the comparative meaning of the phrase. actually, there have been a fair number of cases, but when we consider the slyness of german methods we must come to the conclusion that not a fraction of the whole have been dealt with, in spite of the amusing claim of mr. mckenna that he has succeeded in smashing the german spy organisation in this country. our leniency in this respect is a matter of amazement to people in france, and other countries where, from bitter experience, the german spy-peril is better understood, and it is also a matter of some resentment. every blow at england, it is argued, injures the cause of the allies as a whole, and the worst blows are likely enough to be struck by the undetected and unpunished spy. in almost every case of espionage in england in recent years, the name of steinhauer, "of potsdam," has figured prominently. he is, at the moment, the chief of the kaiser's spy-system, and there is no doubt that he fully enjoys the confidence and friendship of his royal master. steinhauer--as he is known to our secret service--is an officer in the prussian guard, and is about forty years of age. personally, he is a man of charming manners, of splendid education, and of excellent presence, capable of taking his place--as he has frequently done--in the very best society. steinhauer--the man of a hundred aliases--acting under the direct instructions of the kaiser, and with the closest support and co-operation of the german military authorities, established in england such a network of naval and military spies as, when it was tardily discovered, fairly made our authorities aghast. the allegations i have made in these pages are borne out by mr. mckenna's own admission, that hardly anything was done in the matter until about the year ; yet, as i have indicated, long before this the germans were actually plotting war against england, and were preparing for it and looking forward to the day when they might hope to wage it with every prospect of success. the following extract from a public statement by the home secretary is worth quoting. it will be noticed that steinhauer's name is not mentioned, but there is no doubt that he was the head of the organisation of which the home secretary speaks. mr. mckenna stated in his remarkable and somewhat ludicrous communiqué of october th, :-- "the special intelligence department ... was able in three years, from to , to discover the ramifications of the german secret service in england. in spite of enormous effort and lavish expenditure by the enemy, little valuable information fell into their hands.... there is good reason to believe that the spy organisation, crushed at the outbreak of the war, has not been re-established.... how completely that system had been suppressed in the early days of the war is clear from the fact disclosed in a german army order--that on st august the german military commanders were ignorant of the dispatch and movements of the british expeditionary force, although these had been known for many days to a large number of people in this country." such an attempt as this to lull us into a false sense of security was little short of criminal. if not from spies, asked a correspondent of the _globe_, from whom did germany obtain, in , the very valuable information that oil was to be the sole source of motive power for the "queen elizabeth" (v. _taschenbuch der kriegsflotten_, january, )? certainly not from any english official source; for we were kept entirely in the dark as to this momentous change until the _morning post_ announced in july, , that the battleship in question would consume liquid fuel only. even minor details did not escape the notice of german spies during the period specified by mr. mckenna. for instance, the _taschenbuch_ for contains this statement:-- "'hermes,' at present tender to air-craft, and as such only carries eight in. guns." yet it was not until the "hermes" had been sunk in the channel by a german submarine, that any official statement was made as to how she had been employed and her armament reduced! again, there is irrefutable evidence to show that german agents were ready waiting in france for the disembarkation of at least some details of the british expeditionary force, and the whole world knows that the german emperor's insolent reference to sir john french's army was made _before august st_. further evidence of the activity of german spies before and since the outbreak of the war is to be found in the following extract from a letter written by an english naval officer, and published in the _times_ of november th under the heading, "in the north sea":-- "their (_i.e._, the germans') submarines are outside even now, and it seems funny where they get their information. but, at any rate, they are well served, as they knew where the fleet was when we were at devonport, and we did not know ourselves." taking all these facts into consideration, it is evident that the german spy system is more than a match for the intelligence division of the admiralty war staff. steinhauer--the chief of german espionage--was the author and inspiration of these "enormous efforts," and of the lavish expenditure of money. with unlimited means at his disposal from the german secret service funds, a close personal friend of the kaiser, a man of undoubted ability, great charm of manner and unquestionable daring, the man known as steinhauer must be ranked as one of the most dangerous of our enemies. i have met him more than once. he speaks english practically like an englishman, and, out of uniform, might well pass for an englishman in any cosmopolitan gathering. about eight years ago he was appointed to look after the german secret service, with special instructions from the emperor to particularly devote himself to england. he made frequent visits to this country; he got to know many german residents here of the better class, whose efforts might be of value to him, and within twelve months--while our red-tape-tangled government departments closed their eyes and dreamed--had actively at work a swarm of agents in every dockyard town and garrison where the picking up of information of value would be possible or likely. how he must have smiled! every important town and city, many villages on the coast, every naval base had its agent or agents, and there can be no doubt that it was the result of steinhauer's wonderful activities that at last aroused even the supine british home office, which for years had jeered at me and reassured the public with official denials that there were no spies in england, and had laughed at the numerous warnings to them to "sit up and take notice." and all this in face of a great and terrible national peril! i would here like to pay a tribute to the thoroughness with which the confidential department have all along done their work. up to the limits to which the staff were allowed to go, they did magnificently. there can be no doubt that a good many of the most active german spies were detected and accounted for. the trouble is that the intelligence officers were not allowed to go far enough--indeed, since the war the director, who knew many of the spies personally, has actually been relieved of his post. why, we may well ask. do not let us inquire, however, but let us realise that after six months at war we still have at large amongst us some , alien enemies who would, in any other country, be safely under lock and key. this spy peril means the loss of our sons and our loved ones, and a blow at our empire. even the department is subject to ordinary human limitations, and we shall never be free from the spy-peril until we recognise with sherman that during war the military authority is superior to the civil; until we insist with sir oliver lodge that all foreign spies must be shot, and all native ones hanged. this steinhauer's crowning act of daring and cool "cheek" came in , when it is stated upon the best authority that he actually paid a visit to king george at buckingham palace, as a member of the german emperor's personal suite! in that year i met him. the kaiser visited london to attend the unveiling by the king of the queen victoria memorial. steinhauer, the spy, was actually a member of his suite! of the action of our false friend the kaiser in this matter it is difficult to speak with patience. at this time, it should be remembered, he was professing the firmest friendship for england, and more than one cabinet minister was full of his praise; yet this pinchbeck napoleon could find it within his notions of honour to introduce to england the one man of all others who was most active in the perfidious campaign against her. can it be wondered that with such an example of treachery to lead them, german diplomatists made small ado about tearing up the solemn treaty which guaranteed the neutrality of belgium! at this time, of course, steinhauer's real mission was unknown to our home office, and, of course, steinhauer is not his real name. it was not until later in the year that the confidential department fixed his identity and ascertained his true character. one sighs to realise the farce of it all. then began a campaign in which the germans were badly outwitted. without giving the slightest indication that anything unusual was on foot, or had been discovered, the special department--under the director who is, alas! no longer there--set to work. one branch of their activities was revealed in a recent case, when they calmly produced, in court, tracings of letters posted in london by steinhauer's agents. for once the spy had been met and beaten at his own game. in the meantime, some of steinhauer's chief agents had been identified, and were kept under the closest but most unostentatious surveillance. arrests were made in a number of cases, and in many others information was secured which bore prompt fruit when war was declared, and over two hundred of the "master-spy's" tools were captured in different parts of the country and interned. it is, however, beyond doubt that many of this man's agents, of greater or less influence or ability, are to-day still at liberty, and there is no doubt either that many have come over in the guise of belgian refugees; that, indeed, has been officially admitted. of course, they are now working under enormously greater difficulties in getting information, owing to the increased severity of the watch kept at all places of importance. and even to send it away when they have got it is not easy, though no doubt it is arranged, through italy, denmark, or scandinavia. here is an instance reported by me to the authorities, as i considered it full of suspicion. among the thousands of belgian refugees arriving in england just before the fall of antwerp--a city infested by german spies--there came among us a certain priest, with four other male companions. the priest explained to the relief committee which received him, that he was head of a certain college in belgium. he and his companions were, at their own request, passed on to a provincial relief committee. there the priest's penurious position naturally aroused much sympathy, and he and his companions were put into a good-sized house, given money for their maintenance, and petted by many charitable persons. the five were free to take observations in and around the place where they were domiciled. that our enemy would be glad of any details regarding it there can be no doubt. then, of a sudden--in the first days of january--the priest, to the surprise of the committee, announced the fact that as he had received a letter from the cardinal archbishop of his diocese, stating that many of his old pupils had returned, he must leave at once for home with two of his companions. one of the latter declared that he had to go to "look after his cows"--as though the germans would have left him any cows! when questioned, the priest admitted that he held monies of the college which he must hand over. to say the least, their behaviour was highly suspicious. by some persons who became acquainted with this curious request the matter was viewed with considerable suspicion. there seemed no urgent reason why the refugees in question should return, for their excuses, when challenged, were of the flimsiest character. however, they were able to obtain a sum of money, which went towards their travelling expenses. i at once went to the proper authorities--with the usual result. officials "got busy" scribbling reports and writing polite "acknowledgments," but nothing was done, and the priest and his friends were allowed to cross to flushing unmolested on january th. but while it may be true that the main spy organisation has been partially broken up--as mr. mckenna would have us believe--it should not be supposed, by any means, that the peril is at an end. letters can still be smuggled out of the country. to test this, i myself have communicated with friends in germany since the war by sending my letters to italy, where they were re-addressed, and replies have come by the same means. signals can, and are still, undoubtedly being made to german submarines lying within easy distance of our east coast. and there can be no doubt that the stream of secret german gold, part of the £ , a year, has, alas! done its work all too well in inducing at least a few renegade englishmen to betray their country. this thought leaves a nasty taste in one's mouth, but there are black sheep in all nations, and the black sheep of this kind are the master-spy's most precious instruments. very few of them, fortunately or unfortunately, as we may choose to think, have been discovered; but an example was made of one--the ex-naval gunner, parrott--who, perhaps, was one of the worst examples. much organising of the actual work of espionage in england is believed to have been carried on by count von der schulenberg, who was recently appointed governor of liége. a very interesting account of his clever methods was published by the _daily mail_ soon after his appointment was announced. von der schulenberg belongs to what is, unquestionably, the most dangerous type of spy--the monied man of good family, of a certain culture, enjoying the friendship of people in the better ranks of life, and above all, able to plead many hobbies to account for his presence in this country. we have many of a similar sort in our midst, posing as naturalised persons. it was in that schulenberg--whom i met at the hotel cecil, where i was living--first settled in england. he took a flat in jermyn street, where he spent a considerable time, probably in the work of familiarising himself with the ramifications of the german spy system in this country. he became well known among the german colony in the west end, and he was in the habit of spending considerable periods on some mysterious errands; at any rate he often disappeared for days from his favourite haunts. about two years ago this schulenberg left jermyn street--and the hotel cecil, where he often came in to see his friends--and went to live in borough green, kent, a quiet village within easy reach of chatham dockyard. here he posed, of all things in the world, as a poultry fancier! here he spent a good deal of time, sparing no pains to ingratiate himself with everybody in the district, and, to a great extent, succeeding. we next hear of him as a "breeder of bulldogs" in the little village of hemley-on-deben, in suffolk, not far from harwich. this was about the middle of . the amusing part of his pose here is that it was quite obvious to everyone that he knew nothing whatever about the subject which he made his hobby! he was utterly ignorant of bulldogs, and everything pertaining to them. however, they served as the excuse he wanted to cover his real operations. it is not thought that this schulenberg did any actual spying; it is more probable that he was merely an agent and a "cover" for the work of others. that he may have been an organiser under steinhauer is probable enough, and it is known that he received visits from mysterious germans, to one of whom, in particular, he paid considerable deference. after his departure, a very significant statement is said to have been made by a young man who is now serving in our army at the front. this man asserted that if he had been willing to do what von schulenberg asked him, he would, by this time, "have been a rich man, able to drive his own motor-car." we can make a pretty good guess as to the class of service that was sought. many other cases of a similar nature that have come to light make it plain that great britain was systematically divided out into territories, for the purpose of espionage, each territory having a head spy, or agent, to whom all others under him were responsible, and to whom they gave their reports for transmission to the headquarters of the german spy system in brussels. these cases are too numerous to mention individually, and it will be sufficient to quote one as an example, that of captain x----, of manchester. the captain was originally arrested for having--needless to say he was a german--travelled more than five miles from the city without permission. when the case came on the magistrates took the view that the offence was a mere oversight, and inflicted a small fine. later, however, certain facts came to light, and the captain was re-arrested at the instance of the military authorities. great importance was attached to the case, as the authorities believed that through it they would be able to lay their hands upon centres, not only in the north of england, but also in london, through which the germans were in receipt of important information. captain x---- was a man of the type who have done excellent service for germany among the too trustful english. of charming manners, apparently a rich man, and very "english" in his ways, he was able to move in good society, and numbered among his friends many prominent manchester people. but there was another side to his character of which his manchester friends were not aware. one of his favourite haunts was a certain german club in the city. here he was seen almost nightly, and it was noticed that he seemed to have a great friendship for certain hotel-waiters of german nationality, who, like himself, were members. these club waiters, who evidently possessed an amount of cash which is not common among men participating in the "tronc," were constantly occupied with the captain in a private room. they "did themselves well," and in course of time they attracted the attention of certain englishmen who were also members of the club. it could not escape notice that german waiters were rather curious friends for an apparently wealthy man moving in the best society in manchester, and there is only one explanation of their common activities. of the captain's ultimate fate i am ignorant, but we may assume that by this time he is beyond the capacity of doing us further harm, at any rate for a considerable time. "_place aux dames!_" among the "master spies" of the kaiser we must certainly include a proportion of the fair sex--those women of lax morals discussed in the reichstag. and of all the perplexing problems with which our authorities have had to deal of late, there is none more difficult than that of women who have been acting as agents of german espionage. it is a popular jibe that a woman cannot keep a secret. never was a popular opinion worse founded. to the spy no quality is more essential than the ability to hold his tongue--a casual word may be enough to betray him under circumstances in which he might think himself absolutely safe. and if some women, at any rate, could not be trusted to set a very rigid seal on their lips, the kaiser and other spy-masters would be robbed of some of their most able and desperate agents. history has shown us that the woman-spy is, if anything, far more dangerous than the man, once she gives herself heart and soul to the business. and the reason is obvious: she brings to bear subtle influences--especially if she is of the half-world--which are far beyond the capacity of the male spy. more often than not, she simply works on a man's passions, and there are endless cases of men who have given away important secrets not for mere sordid motives, but through the wiles of a pretty little woman by whom they have been temporarily enslaved. the woman-spy, as a rule, must be possessed of great personal charm of manner, and more than a share of good looks--often they are minor actresses or ladies of no profession. they are, indeed, the aristocrats of the spy profession, for they can work with good prospects of success in cases where the ordinary lure of money would be rejected with scorn, and, probably, personal violence if it were proffered. now, it is absolutely foreign to the british character to take any steps against women of whatever class unless there are very clear grounds upon which to act. we may be quite sure that this fact is fully recognised by the authorities at potsdam. there are to-day, in london--many around piccadilly circus, and practically uncontrolled--hundreds of german women, clever and capable, who are an unmistakable danger to our country. what to do with them is, admittedly, not a problem easy of solution. we, as britons, do not want to inflict on women the unavoidable hardships of the concentration camps if it can be avoided, but we certainly do want to protect ourselves. the suggestion has been made that these women should be compulsorily repatriated, and it seems as good a way of dealing with the difficulty as any. one of the most notorious of the german woman agents is believed to have come over to this country immediately after the fall of brussels. she is said to be an exceedingly accomplished woman, very good-looking, and widely travelled, and speaking seven languages. the confidential department are to-day keeping her under observation. a woman of this kind is especially dangerous owing to her ability to pass in any class of society, and it is to be hoped that the department has been able to curtail her opportunities for mischief. as i have, over and over again, stated in the course of these past few years of britain's slumber, the tremendous extent of the german spy system cannot be over-estimated, nor can it be too strongly impressed upon the public. nothing is too large, or too small, for the net of german espionage; no agent can be too highly, or too lowly, placed. from the few chiefs who really control the dastardly work, designed for our undoing, radiate channels which stretch into every department of life, pouring in a constant stream of facts of greater or less importance, but all having their proper place when correlated and arranged by the keen brains in berlin devoted to the work. never let it be forgotten that an apparently trivial incident may be the key for which the spy is patiently seeking, and that even a seemingly baseless rumour transmitted by the humble german, as the result of eavesdropping during his employment, may set the master-brain at work upon some matter of overwhelming importance. chapter viii the spy and the law there is a vast amount of misconception in the public mind on the subject of spying, and an almost complete ignorance of the law of dealing with spies, military and civil, in time of peace and in time of war. the subject is one which absolutely bristles with anomalies and incongruities. in all times and in all countries, and by the great majority of people, spying has been condemned as something essentially dishonourable--to call a man a spy has always been regarded as one of the deadliest insults. yet here we have at once the first, and perhaps the most striking, anomaly of the spy business--the men of unblemished personal honour, who, unquestionably, would not descend to any act which, in their views, was even tainted with meanness, have acted as spies. i will mention a few of these cases presently; in the meantime, it will be well to consider what international law has to say on the subject. naturally enough, the subject of spying met with a good deal of consideration on the part of the members of the hague convention, and, so far as there can be said to be international law in the matter, it is expressed in the conventional laws of war drawn up by the assemblage. the following articles of the convention dealing with the subject may be usefully quoted:-- article xxix. a person can only be considered a spy when, acting clandestinely, or on false pretences, he obtains or endeavours to obtain information in the zone of operations of a belligerent with the intention of communicating it to the hostile party. thus, soldiers not wearing a disguise who have penetrated into the zone of operations of the hostile army for the purpose of obtaining information are not considered spies. similarly, the following are not considered spies: soldiers and civilians, carrying out their mission openly, entrusted with the delivery of despatches intended either for their own army or for the enemy's army. to this class belong likewise persons sent in balloons for the purpose of carrying despatches, and generally of maintaining communications between the different parts of an army or a territory. article xxx. a spy taken in the act shall not be punished without previous trial. article xxxi. a spy who after rejoining the army to which he belongs is subsequently captured by the enemy, is treated as a prisoner of war, and incurs no responsibility for his previous acts of espionage. a very detailed and lucid exposition of the law dealing with spies is given in mr. j.m. spaight's "war rights on land," perhaps the fullest and most authoritative source of information on the work of the hague convention in respect to war on land. now, in the conduct of war early and accurate information is of supreme importance. one of the best instances of this on record was the capture of marshal macmahon's army by the germans in the franco-prussian war of - . this, of course, was not the work of a spy, but it was the result of information which a spy might very well have obtained. a paris paper published a statement indicating that macmahon's army had changed the direction of its march. this statement was telegraphed to london and appeared in the papers here. it caught the attention of the then german ambassador, who, realising its value, promptly telegraphed it to berlin. for moltke, of course, this was a heaven-sent opportunity of which his military genius made the fullest use. a new movement was at once set on foot, and the result was the surrender of macmahon with his entire force. granting that information of equal value may at any moment be obtained by a clever spy, it is obvious that commanders in the field are not only entitled, but bound to take the most drastic measures to defend themselves against spies. the work of a single spy may wreck a campaign and settle the fate of a nation, and here we have the real reason why the spy caught in the act is punished with relentless severity. "kill that spy" is, and should be, the rule of every commander in the field. then arises another consideration of equal importance: every commander is entitled and bound to do his utmost to secure the best possible information as to the enemy's forces, their disposition, their size, and, above all, their intentions. it is of even more importance to understand what your enemy intends to do than to know the forces which he has available to carry out his plans. how, then, are we to draw a distinction between perfectly legitimate scouting and reconnaissance work, which can involve no reprobation and no punishment, and the "spying" properly so called, which justifies the infliction of the death penalty? the answer lies in a couple of words--the spy acts under false pretences, while the soldier or scout acts quite openly; though, of course, concealing himself from observation and detection, he does not adopt any disguise or discard his uniform. the result is, that under no circumstances can a soldier wearing his uniform be treated as a spy. he may dare and do anything; if he is caught his sole punishment is that he is treated as a prisoner of war. so far as the soldier is concerned (the case of the civilian spy will be dealt with presently) disguise is the essence of spying. this point is clear beyond the possibility of misconception, and the commander who shot a soldier in uniform on the plea that he was acting as a spy would simply be committing a murder. usually, a military spy is a soldier who has laid aside his own uniform, and either adopted civilian dress, or clothed himself in the uniform of the enemy, or a neutral, the better to escape detection. for such, there is no mercy; the penalty of detection is death. the reason is obvious: the soldier in disguise is a far more dangerous enemy than the one who openly carries out his hostile acts. in war, as in peace, the enemy in disguise is most dangerous; the false friend is the soldier's as well as the civilian's worst peril. here we come to another anomaly: spying in itself is not a criminal act. that is clearly recognised by article xxxi. of the hague convention already quoted. consequently, unless he is taken in the act the spy is immune; once he has regained his own lines, and discarded his disguise, he is exempt from the consequences of his espionage, even though he were captured and identified ten minutes later. to constitute "spying" in the strict sense of the word, the offence must be carried out clandestinely, and _in the war area_. as we all know now, and as i and others pointed out years ago, the united kingdom for many years has been flooded with german agents busily engaged in picking up information on naval and military subjects which would be of value to germany. it is important to recognise that these agents _are not "spies" in the strict sense of the word_, since the united kingdom is, happily, not within the war zone. in time of peace they could not be shot. when war began, however, they were guilty of "war treason" and liable to the death penalty. the case of carl lody, with which i deal fully elsewhere, is a case in point. lody was not accused of "spying," but of "war treason." the word "spy," however, is convenient, and no doubt it will continue to be used without undue regard to the technicalities. it is necessary, i think, to make it clear how eminent soldiers have found it not beneath their dignity and honour to act as spies, even in the face of the general opprobrium which attaches to the spy. in the first place, the obtaining of information is essential to the successful conduct of war. secondly, it is recognised that no moral guilt attaches to the spy, as is shown by the fact that he can only be punished if he is taken in the act, and as a preventive measure. thirdly, we must remember that only a very brave man, ready to lay down his life for his country, could bring himself to act as a spy in war time. the spy, let it not be forgotten, is under no illusions; he takes his life in his hands, and he knows it. if he is caught there is no help for him; his doom is as certain as the rising of the sun. only a man to whom his life was as nothing if risking it would serve his country's cause, would dare to undertake the perilous work of spying in time of war. whatever other attributes the spy may possess, and many of them undoubtedly are individuals of a very undesirable kind, the possession of courage must be granted to them. naturally, it will be asked why the spy is so generally held in contempt, and, indeed, in abhorrence. that this should be so is, in all probability, due to a certain confusion of ideas between the soldier spy who, risking his life in war, may be playing a truly heroic part, and those miserable secret agents who, in time of peace and without risk, abuse for gold a nation's hospitality with the deliberate intention of working her ruin when war comes, or, still worse, the traitor who is ready to sell the interests of his own country. and it is one of the anomalies of the whole subject that the traitor who is ready to sell his country's interests to a possible enemy should, in time of peace, be punishable only by penal servitude, while the truly brave and often heroic soldier who in time of war risks his life in his country's cause, should meet certain death if he is detected. let us assume for a moment that a man of the former class, the day before the war broke out, had sold to germany information of some secret upon which the safety of the british empire depended. there is no such secret, but i assume it for the sake of argument. his maximum punishment would have been penal servitude. take next the case of a german soldier who, the day after war was declared, crept disguised into our lines and obtained information which might have enabled his commander to capture fifty british soldiers. we should have shot him without delay. yet will anyone contend that there is anything comparable in the moral turpitude of the two acts? it must not be understood, of course, that i am pleading for clemency for the spy; my plea is for greater severity for the traitor! we are now faced with another problem. if it is dishonourable to spy--and many eminent authorities, as well as public opinion, generally hold this to be the case--it is unquestionably dishonourable to employ spies. yet all commanders of all nations employ spies, and if any nation failed to do so, it might as well--as lord wolseley said--sheathe its sword for ever. we can take it for granted that, in his many campaigns, lord wolseley made the fullest use possible of spies, and yet his personal honour need not be questioned. we certainly cannot say that he was dishonoured by the use of means often regarded as dishonourable. moreover, great soldiers themselves have not hesitated to act as spies. the history of war is full of such cases. catinat spied in the disguise of a coal-heaver. montluc disguised himself as a cook. ashby, in the american civil war, visited the federal lines as a horse-doctor, while general nathaniel lyon visited the confederate camp at st. louis in disguise before he attacked and captured it. against the personal honour of such men as these no word can be said, and, as mr. spaight points out, it is surprising to find a military historian like sir henry hozier declaring that "spies have a dangerous task and not an honourable one." the truth seems to be that as regards the military spy in time of war, popular opinion stands in need of revision. in the face of the instances quoted, it cannot be fairly said that the military spy is necessarily a man of dishonour. the spy and the revolutionary, in some respects, fall under the same category. if they succeed, well and good; if they fail, they pay the inevitable penalty, and no mercy is shown them. yet the revolutionary as well as the spy may be a person of blameless honour. as a matter of fact, the germans themselves--whose sense of honour no one will regard as being excessively nice--seem to recognise the distinction between the military spy and the wretched agents of espionage, of whom they have made abundant use, who in times of peace, work, and can only work, by abusing the hospitality of the nation among whom they live, and by tempting men to betray their honour and their country's secrets. the japanese, too, one of the proudest of nations, and with a code of honour as strict as any in the world, have recognised that there is nothing essentially dishonourable about the military spy. during the war with russia, mr. douglas story relates, they captured a russian who was spying disguised as a chinaman. they shot him, of course, but they afterwards sent into the russian lines a message in which they hailed the spy as a brave man, and expressed the hope that the russian army held many others equally brave. perhaps the most remarkable spy case on record is that of major andré, which aroused the fiercest indignation during the american war of independence. andré, who was born in london in , joined the british army in canada, and became aide-de-camp to general clinton. benedict arnold, an american commandant, had undertaken to surrender to the british forces a fortress on the hudson river, and andré was sent by clinton to make the necessary arrangements. on the night of september th, , arnold and andré met at a place called haverstraw, on the hudson river. then andré changed his uniform for plain clothes, and attempted to pass through the american lines by means of a passport given him by arnold in the name of john anderson. as he was approaching the british lines, however, he was captured by a patrol of the enemy, who handed him over to the american military authorities. washington at once convened a board of officers, who found andré guilty of espionage, and declared that he ought to be put to death. curiously enough, andré himself did not protest against this sentence; all that he asked was that he should be shot instead of suffering the ignominious death of hanging. this request, however, was refused, and, accordingly, he was hanged on october nd, . the case created an uproar in england. the essence of spying is that the spy shall be caught while seeking information, and andré was not thus caught. the americans contended that so long as he was captured before he had returned to his own lines he was to be regarded as a spy, and, therefore, liable to condemnation. many people in england, and elsewhere, regarded andré as a martyr. george iii. granted a pension to his mother, a baronetcy was conferred on his brother, and, in , his remains were allowed to be exhumed, and were brought to england and buried in westminster abbey! it is most important to recognise the distinction between spying, properly so called, and "war treason." the inhabitants of an occupied territory do not owe any allegiance to an invader, but they do owe him the duty of remaining quiet and abstaining from acts which might endanger his safety or success. they are subject to his martial law regulations, and, under certain circumstances, they may be guilty of war treason. war treason has been defined by the germans as:-- "the act of damaging or imperilling the enemy's power by deceit, or by the transmission of messages to the national army on the subject of the position, movements, plans, etc., of the occupant, irrespective of whether the means by which the sender has come into the possession of the information be legitimate or illegitimate (_e.g._, by espionage)." it is, of course, regarded as an act of perfidy when a person whose rights as a non-combatant have been regarded abuses his position to render aid to the national army. non-combatants, save when the "levy in mass" has been put in force, have no right, it is considered, to meddle in any way with the operations of the contending armies. bearers of despatches, whether military or civilian, are not spies so long as they work openly. during the franco-prussian war, bismarck contended that all who attempted to pass out of paris by balloon were spies, and should be treated as such, and though those who were caught were not put to death, they were very harshly treated. he was, undoubtedly, wrong under international law as recognised at the present day. since those times, the aeroplane has placed in the hands of military commanders a powerful weapon, not only of espionage or scouting, but also of communicating information, and probably not even bismarck, were he still alive, could contend that the use of aeroplanes could be regarded as bringing the airman within the laws of espionage. and there is no difference in principle between the aeroplane and the balloon. obviously, there can be none of the concealment which is necessary to establish spying. the invention of wireless telegraphy brought about a curious problem in espionage during the russo-japanese war. a steamer, fitted with a wireless installation, followed the movements of the rival fleets in the interests of one of the london papers. she was boarded by a russian cruiser, and, as result, the russian government informed the neutral powers that should any neutral vessel be found within the russian maritime zone, having on board correspondents with apparatus of this kind--which, obviously, was not foreseen in the then existing conventions--used for the purpose of transmitting information to the enemy, the correspondents would be treated as spies, and the vessels made prizes of war. that position is now untenable. owing to the improvements made in wireless telegraphy, a very similar situation might arise in a land war. it is possible, to-day, to carry in an ordinary motor-car a wireless outfit capable of sending messages a very considerable distance; indeed, there is good reason for believing that such an apparatus is actually being used by german agents for transmitting information from the east and north-east districts of england, to enemy submarines lurking in the north sea. a rigorous search has been made for this mysterious car, which has been reported in various districts. naturally, when the apparatus is not in use it is concealed within the body of the car, which would then become, apparently, an ordinary touring vehicle, with nothing to distinguish it from hundreds of others passing freely along the roads. in this case there would be little doubt about the fate of the occupants of the car if they were caught. they would not be "spies" in the strict sense of the word, as their offence was not committed within the zone of the operations, but they would be guilty of "war treason," and liable to the death penalty. this is a very real danger, and the offence is one that it would be extremely difficult to detect. the popular idea of a wireless plant, gained no doubt from the enormous "aerials" of the high-power stations sending messages thousands of miles, is that wireless telegraphy is something that cannot be carried on without employing huge plant that it would be impossible to conceal. now i can claim to know something of wireless telegraphy--i have experimented for some years--and i can say, at once, that this is an exceedingly dangerous fallacy. in recent years very great improvements have been made in both transmitters and receivers, and to-day it is quite possible to establish in almost any house, a small, but powerful wireless plant, which would be utterly invisible from outside, but quite capable of sending messages from any spot near the coast to enemy vessels, such as submarines, lying a few miles away. of secret installations there are, no doubt, to-day, many in various parts of the country. several stations have, indeed, been discovered. the reason aliens were not allowed to possess a telephone was regarded as curious by some people. but it was because telephone-wires, when properly insulated and arranged, make quite a good "aerial." further, in any barn or long attic, aerial wires can be strung across, and give excellent results. the spy does not need spidery wires upon masts high above his house-top, or in his garden. if his instruments are sufficiently delicate, and are connected with the underground gas-pipe, or even to an ordinary wire-mattress, he will be able to receive messages from any of the high-power stations within a radius of, say, five hundred miles, while from a wire strung inside a disused factory-chimney, and thereby hidden, a wireless message can be despatched a couple of hundred miles. therefore the peril of all this will at once be realised, for any spy who knows sufficient to fit up a wireless station inside his own house, and is acquainted with the latest developments of the science, need not use lamp-signalling at night, or pigeons, or any other antiquated modes of communication. indeed, he can flash at night a code-message direct to norddeich or any other place on the german coast, and receive back his answer in a few moments, no one being able to detect, until after long search and inquiry, whence the mysterious buzz has emanated. it ought to be said, however, that it is problematical how long such a fixed station, established say in yorkshire, could be worked without detection, because its messages must--sooner or later--be picked up by some of our own post office or naval operators. the messages would be in cipher, of course, but the important thing would be to know that such a plant was being used. an expert wireless-operator, with a newly-invented instrument called a "direction-finder," can make a very good guess at the distance of the point of origin of any message he receives, and once the proper authorities were on the track of a secret wireless station, the work of hunting it down would be only a matter of time and trouble. such a case was reported a few weeks ago from the pacific coast, where a wireless station established in the centre of a remote district was giving the germans valuable help. it was tracked down and located, and it is said that a similar station was found in the centre of rome, and others in paris and antwerp. we might be equally successful here, but, in the meantime, it is more than likely that a good deal of damage might have been done. the case of a wireless installation used for a motor-car, however, presents much more difficulty of detection. we might know perfectly well that it was being used, and yet be unable to locate it on account of its mobility. it is practically certain that it would never be used twice from the same spot; indeed, it might operate along a line running a couple of hundred miles north and south, and still convey its messages to the enemy vessels. in such a case as this, we can only rely upon vigilance and good luck to turn the trick in our favour. in my view, the admiralty took an extremely unwise step when, at the beginning of the war, they closed all the private wireless stations in england. there are a great many of these stations--far more than the general public realises--and the majority of them were being worked by men whose loyalty and discretion stood absolutely above suspicion. these installations--free from the heavy load of business thrown upon the government coast stations--are quite capable of doing excellent work in constantly "listening" for illicit stations which might be in the hands of german spies for the purpose of giving information respecting our naval movements. the value of these small stations as a means of detecting hostile messages has been entirely under-estimated by the admiralty, who seem to consider the risk of englishmen being either traitors or fools more than outweighs the possibility of detecting secret wireless in the hands of our enemies. i have dwelt upon this matter at some length, because i am absolutely convinced of the very serious danger to which we are exposed from the use of wireless installations, small, but capable of working over any distance up to, say, one hundred miles--and even less would be amply sufficient--by german spies in great britain at the present moment. we now know quite enough of german methods to be aware that our enemy's spies are not only singularly daring, but singularly resourceful. i know what a small, compact, portable station can do in skilled hands, and i am strongly of opinion that the risks we are running in this respect are not sufficiently appreciated--perhaps are not understood--by the authorities. even to-day, in spite of the evidence that i and others have been able to bring forward for some years, and in spite even of numerous convictions during the past few months, there is too much of a tendency on the part of the government to try to "save its face" by declaring that the spy peril is enormously exaggerated. no doubt they will endeavour to refute my arguments in these pages. they declared, for so long, that there were no german spies in england, that even to-day they are reluctant to take the drastic steps which the situation urgently demands. on no other supposition can we explain the unparalleled liberty accorded to thousands of germans, whether naturalised or not, who are still permitted to live and move so freely among us. some, indeed, have been interned, and afterwards released. returning to the legal position of spies (after a digression perhaps not without its uses), it should be noted that the hague regulations distinguish between a member of the armed forces and a private citizen. the soldier spy who has rejoined the army cannot, afterwards, be punished for his act of espionage. the civilian who acts as a spy enjoys, however, no such privilege. he has no business to meddle with military affairs, and, should he be captured at any time, he is liable to pay the penalty of his former deeds. similarly, to harbour a spy is also a criminal offence. a person found guilty of espionage may either be hanged or shot; nowadays, the usual punishment is shooting, though the american code still prescribes hanging. in earlier times, also, he was liable to be executed on the spot, without formality of any kind. to-day, he must first be tried by court-martial in accordance with the established rules of martial law in the country in which the offence was committed. the position of civilians in an invaded territory who give or transmit to their own side information respecting the enemy's movements is not without interest to us now that threats of a german invasion are so freely indulged in by the press of germany, and preparations to defeat such an attack are being actively made by our own military authorities. there can be no doubt that if a resident of an occupied territory gives such information, he is guilty either of spying, or of a hostile act against the invader, amounting to war treason, and equally punishable by death. the "american instructions" are very emphatic on this point. they say:-- "if a citizen or subject of a country or place invaded or conquered gives information to his own government from which he is separated by the hostile army or to the army of his government he is a _war traitor_ and death is the penalty of his offence." thus, a belgian resident in brussels, during the german occupation, found sending information to the belgian authorities in france, would be shot out of hand by the germans, and they would be within their clear rights in shooting him. a more doubtful case would be that of an inhabitant of a district not yet occupied, who entered the war zone, obtained information, and, having sent it to his government, returned home, only to be captured later when the enemy occupied the district. the view is generally held, though the convention came to no very clear decision, that in such a case he could not be punished, as he was not supposed to belong to an occupied territory. such a man owes no duty to the enemy, as in the case of an occupied territory, and once he has completed his mission, he is free. it should be noted that the nationality of a spy is not material; neutrals found guilty may be punished as though they were the enemy subjects. many chinese who spied for the russians during the russo-japanese war were executed by the japanese. one of them was a chinese officer, and the government of china demanded an explanation. the japanese reply was quite unequivocal, and insisted on the right to punish spies, no matter of what nationality. as i have said, all nations spy in the interests of national self-preservation. it is not the _fact_ of german espionage that has roused the indignation of the civilised world against her. we have no feelings even of resentment against such men as carl lody, though, of course, we are entitled to protect ourselves against them. they owe us nothing, and they are clearly doing their duty in trying to help their country. what has aroused anti-german feelings--which are not likely to die out for many years--is the baseness of the german _method_: systematic "planting" of agents who, for years, have posed as the friends of those among whom they lived, yet have not hesitated to betray them in the first shock of war. thousands of paid german spies have deliberately become naturalised frenchmen, englishmen, and belgians, as a mere cloak for their efforts to betray the country of their adoption. hundreds of thousands of germans accepted for years as friends in this country, bearers even of british honours, have abused our hospitality, and added the vilest treachery to the blackest ingratitude. while posing as our friends, they have worked their best for our undoing, and--worse still--they have suborned and made traitors of poor men, to whom the lure of gold of this kind is simply that it is "not cricket," and for the false friend, not for the open enemy, the british people reserve their bitterest scorn and contempt. chapter ix a remarkable spy of the many cases of espionage which have come before the british public recently, surely none exceeds in interest and importance that of carl hans lody, who, after trial by court-martial, was shot in the tower of london early in november. lody was the first secret-service agent shot in england after the outbreak of war, and the first person executed in the tower since the middle of the eighteenth century. lody, beyond all question, was a very remarkable man. before going into the details of the charge against him, it is well worth while to recall some of the leading features of his career. born in berlin, he was only thirty-five, yet he had seen enough of life and the world to have satisfied many men of double his age. there is hardly a corner of the civilised world into which he had not travelled. he had been much in america, and it was a considerable help to him, in his work as a secret-service agent, that he spoke english with a decidedly american accent. this, no doubt, explains the fact--of which more presently--that he posed as an american, and used an american passport, which really belonged to a certain mr. charles a. inglis. it was as mr. charles a. inglis that lody arrived in england early in august. he knew england and scotland well, and he is believed to have been in this country once or twice earlier in the year. originally, he served in the german navy; after he left he became a steward on the liner "hamburg." in the meantime he married a very handsome american woman, to whom, apparently, though the marriage did not turn out very happily, he was very deeply attached. when the hamburg-amerika line established a series of personally conducted tours from berlin, lody secured an appointment to take charge of a party of rich americans who were going round the world. he made a similar tour in and in the summer of , and when the american medical societies held an international conference in london, lody was one of the guides who helped to show them round england. none of the americans, it may be mentioned, ever doubted that he belonged to their country. it was in august, as i have said, that lody came to england on the mission that led him to his death. he travelled as mr. inglis, though to an american acquaintance who chanced to meet him he was still lody. it was some weeks before the attention of the confidential department was drawn to him, and then began a game of hide-and-seek, which was not without a humorous side. from august till the middle of september, lody was in edinburgh, a district prohibited to enemy aliens, though not, of course, to an american. thence he sent, to stockholm, a telegram which aroused suspicion. on september th he was followed from the neighbourhood of rosyth, and with magnificent "bluff" he went direct to the police and complained. so well did he play the part of an injured and innocent american citizen, that the police actually apologised to him. he slipped away and, for a time, all trace of him was lost. then he went to london and began an examination of the steps that had been taken for the protection of the principal buildings. again the intelligence department got on his track, and from that moment his doom was sealed. no doubt he thought he had shaken off all suspicion, but he was soon to be undeceived. after a visit to scotland about the end of september, lody went to liverpool, no doubt to pick up all he could about the mersey defences, and then over to ireland in the guise of an american tourist on a visit to killarney. but the police had their eye on him all the time, and he was arrested and detained until the arrival of inspector ward of scotland yard. his trial and conviction followed. the public will never know the full extent of lody's doings as a spy, but it is beyond question that he was a most daring and dangerous man. the reports he made have not yet been published, but they were of such a character that, in the interests of the state, much of the evidence was taken in camera, and those who have been privileged to read them declare that, in their keen observation and clear expression, they are among the most remarkable documents that have ever come into the possession of the war office. the confidential department did its work well, and it is worth noting here that after grave suspicion fell upon lody, he was so closely shadowed that none of his reports left the country, and they were produced in evidence at the trial. lody's task was to travel about england and to send to germany news about our naval movements, about our losses and the steps that were being taken to repair them. one message he tried to send from edinburgh read:--"must cancel. johnson very ill last four days. shall leave shortly." innocent enough! but to berlin, as lody admitted at his trial, it meant that the british fleet, in four days, would be leaving the firth of forth. what, we may well wonder, was to be cancelled! there was a dramatic scene in the ancient guildhall when the court-martial assembled to try lody for his life--a scene strangely unfamiliar in a country which, for a generation, has had little experience of military trials. the court was composed of major-general lord cheylesmore as president, and eight officers in uniform. in the dock stood lody, guarded by two khaki-clad soldiers with bayonets fixed. the following were the charges on which lody was accused:-- the accused, carl hans lody, alias charles a. inglis, an enemy civilian, is charged--first charge--with committing a war crime, that is to say, war treason, against great britain, in that he at edinburgh, on or about september , , attempted to convey to a belligerent enemy of great britain--namely to germany--information calculated to be useful to that enemy by sending a letter headed edinburgh / / , and signed nazi, addressed to one karl j. stammer, berlin, which contained information with regard to the defence and preparations for war of great britain. the second charge is that of committing a war crime in that he on or about the th of september attempted to convey to a belligerent enemy of great britain--namely to germany--information calculated to be useful to that enemy, by sending a letter, headed dublin and signed nazi, and addressed to karl j. stammer, which contained information with regard to the defences and preparations for war of great britain. lody's movements were very clearly traced at the trial by mr. bodkin, who prosecuted for the crown. it was shown, by the visé on the american passport he was using, that he had been in berlin as recently as august th. another document found on him proved that he was in bergen, in norway, on august th. in all his movements he passed as charles a. inglis. it is not necessary to follow him in detail, but it may be mentioned that apparently he reported both to a man named burchard, at stockholm, and also to stammer at berlin. there were found in his notebook not only a copy of the "johnson" telegram, but also particulars of british losses in battle and in the naval fight in the north sea, a list of german cruisers and german ships sunk up to date, and also copies of four other communications to burchard. mr. bodkin made it clear that, through the post office officials, certain letters to and from persons abroad had been examined and copied, and in some cases delivered; since august th letters for norway and sweden posted in any part of the united kingdom were sent to london and there examined. several of these were to and from the prisoner. the main part of the evidence against lody was taken in camera and has never been made public, but that it was overwhelming there can be no doubt; indeed, lody himself admitted that he had had a fair trial, and was quite justly dealt with. it was, however, mentioned that his letters contained reports on such places as queensferry, near the naval base at rosyth, and various other places round the coast. there was a very remarkable incident when lody himself gave evidence, an incident which gives us a good deal of insight into the real character of this remarkable spy. having admitted that his name was on the german navy list, he said that when he went to berlin at the end of july he reported himself to "a certain department," making a request that he should not be sent on active service as he was an invalid, having undergone a serious operation some years before and being unfit to do any fighting. narrating events in berlin, lody said, "a proposition was put before me by a certain person." "are you willing," counsel asked him, "to give the name of that person?" then for the first time lody's iron nerve broke down. he burst into heavy sobs, and in a voice almost choked with emotion, replied: "i have pledged my word of honour not to give that name, and i cannot do it. although names have been discovered in my documents, i do feel that i have not broken my word of honour." "are you unwilling," counsel asked, "to tell us the position in life that person occupies?" again lody hesitated; then he added quietly that the person was a superior naval officer. "i was summoned to see him," he said; "and i had three or four interviews with him." then came a question which provoked a very remarkable reply. "are you willing," asked counsel, "to tell the court what took place at those interviews with your superior officer?" "i am willing to tell the court," said lody. "and i am willing not to conceal anything, but i should like it not to be in public, as i shall certainly refer to very essential and important affairs." lody was then asked to give the "principal instruction" that he received, and he did so readily. he was to remain in england until the first engagement had taken place between the two powers, and send information as regards the actual losses of the british fleet. then he was at liberty to go on to new york; he had previously asked for permission to do so. he was also told to get all the information he could with regard to the movements of the fleet, and what was going on in england, but was specially warned not to go and "spy round," but to see as much as every traveller could see. lody added that he was very reluctant to undertake this work, as he felt he was not well fitted for it. he pointed this out, he said. it was put to him that pressure was applied to him to induce him to undertake the mission, to which he replied: "there was no pressure, but there is certainly an understanding. if they make a suggestion you feel obliged to obey. i have never been a coward in my life, and i certainly won't be a shirker." let us give credit where credit is due--even in espionage. i think everyone will admit that, whatever view we may take of this spy's offence--and views on the subject of espionage will always vary widely--lody behaved as a brave man. he was, in the first place, absolutely loyal to his chiefs; there was about him nothing of the craven wretch as willing to sacrifice his own country as any other if he could hope by so doing to win any favour for himself. nor would he even speak in open court of matters which, as he thought, might have been prejudicial to us. one cannot but recognise his chivalry. it is not often that the man in the dock deserves all his counsel says about him, but lody was an exception, and the eloquent plea on his behalf made by mr. george elliott, k.c., who defended him, deserves to be remembered, not only for its references to lody, but as a tribute to british justice, which placed at the service of a dangerous adversary the skill of one of the most brilliant members of the english bar. whatever his fate might be, said mr. elliott, he hoped the accused would remember to the last hour of his existence that he had received from the country whose interests he came to betray a trial which, for fairness, was unrivalled in history. he said, quite frankly, that he came to this country in the service of his own--as a german actuated by patriotic german motives. he had told the court all that he could tell, refusing to speak only where it clashed with his word of honour as an officer and a gentleman. he was not a man who had sold his country for gold, and he had not attempted to corrupt a single british subject or official. "i plead for him," said mr. elliott, admitting that a conviction was unavoidable, but asking the court whether they could not find some extenuating circumstances, "not as a miserable coward, or as a fear-stricken wretch, but as a man born of a land to which he is true, whose history and traditions he cherishes. his own grandfather was a great soldier who held a fortress against napoleon, and it is in that spirit he wishes to stand before you here to-day. he was ready to offer himself on the altar of his country. i am not here to cringe for mercy; my client is not ashamed of anything he has done. many a man would do for england what he did for germany--may, in fact, be now doing it. whatever his fate, he will meet it bravely like a man." the verdict, as usual in the case of a court-martial, was not announced until some days later, when an official statement told us that lody had been shot. he maintained his courage to the end, and died without a tremor. before he died he left a letter in which he admitted he had had a fair trial, and expressed appreciation of the fact that he had been treated, not as a spy, but as an officer. now we come to the ugliest and darkest side of the lody case. it will be remembered that lody was able to get about by the aid of an american passport issued in the name of charles a. inglis. it was thought, at first, that this was merely a passport obtained either by forgery or by false pretences; as a matter of fact it was a perfectly genuine document, but lody had no right to it. how it came into his possession shows the depth of degradation to which the german general staff are prepared to descend. mr. inglis, it was ascertained after the trial, was a _bona fide_ american traveller holding a genuine passport. he left his passport with the american embassy in berlin for registration with the german foreign office, or some other department. the embassy sent it in for registration _and it was never returned_. nor was it ever heard of again until it turned up in the possession of carl lody--a spy in great britain! the german explanation to the american embassy was that the passport had been mislaid. the same fate, it is said, has befallen no fewer than _two hundred_ united states and british passports in germany, and the corollary of this astounding announcement is that at the present moment there may be two hundred german agents wandering about equipped with british and american passports which are perfectly genuine, and not in the least likely to be suspected. the stealing of these passports by the german authorities has been the subject of an official british communication, so that there can be no doubt about the fact, whether the exact number had been stated or not. "it has come to the notice of the foreign secretary," says the british statement, "that some passports belonging to british subjects leaving germany have been retained by the german authorities. such cases should be reported to the foreign office." i say without hesitation that i do not believe any other country on the face of the globe would descend to such methods as this. i say, moreover, that no nation capable of such conduct can be regarded as possessing a shred of public honour. it is comparable only to the white flag treachery, or the mounting of machine guns in red cross ambulances, which is a feature of german warfare, to the murder by bombs of non-combatants in districts where there cannot be any soldiers, to the sowing of mines on the high seas, to the making of shields for soldiers out of the bodies of miserable civilians, to the slaughter of women and children at louvain and aerschot. what will the civilised communities of the world have to say in the future to germans convicted out of their own mouths of disregarding every law of god and man that may operate to their disadvantage? but even out of the theft of the passports--no doubt regarded by them as an excellent stroke of "kultur"--the germans are not unlikely to reap trouble. the united states is not a country to be played with, and in this passport trick there lie the elements of serious trouble. americans will not be likely to lie down quietly while their passports are used for espionage, and it is more than likely that the germans have stirred up a hornets' nest about their ears. in the meantime, it is reported from washington that the government has instructed the embassy in berlin to sift the lody-inglis incident to the very bottom. that incident, too, has brought about much more stringent rules with regard to passports. henceforth no american or british passport will be recognised as valid which does not bear the certified photograph of its rightful owner, and extra photographs for registration purposes will have to be lodged with the embassy or consulate by which the passport is issued. in the meantime we may be quite sure that american passports in london will be the subject of very special attention. what diplomatic action the united states may take in the matter it is impossible to say, but we can be fairly sure that such a proceeding as the stealing of neutral passports and using them for the purposes of spying in great britain will hardly be allowed to pass without very serious protest. the lody case has had one good effect in bringing home to a public, which is, alas! too liable to be careless in such matters, the reality of the german spy-peril in the country. the public had been so consistently deluded in this matter by those who were perfectly aware of the real facts of german espionage that it was far too much inclined to look upon everyone who insisted that there was a very real and very urgent spy danger as a mere alarmist. it knows better now! anyone who glances at the columns of the daily press must be aware that public opinion is slowly awakening to the real urgency of the question, and, though i and others have been bitterly disappointed that our warnings have, to a great extent, gone unheeded, i am even now not without hope that we shall yet see the public insist that adequate steps shall be taken for our national safety in this respect. it is true we may offend germany by the drastic action the position demands. we may even, it is true, make the lot of englishmen still, unhappily, in germany, harder and more disagreeable. we shall regret either necessity. but the safety of the country has to come first. germany has never shown the slightest regard for our feelings, and i am sure that those of our countrymen who are prisoners in germany, military or civil, would cheerfully suffer any conceivable hardship rather than that the safety of our beloved empire should be jeopardised in the hope of making better terms for them. to think otherwise would be to assume that patriotism had entirely departed from us. chapter x some recent cases we can respect lody; we can have no other feelings but the bitterest scorn and contempt for such traitorous miscreants as the ex-naval gunner, charles parrott, who, early in , was sentenced to four years' penal servitude, under the official secrets act of , for selling official secrets likely to be useful to the enemy. the class of traitor to which parrott belongs represents the spy in his very lowest and most contemptible guise. about these wretched agents among us there is no redeeming feature. patriotism is, to them, a word of no meaning; to their country they have no attachment: their one idea is to make money, and to do this they are willing to risk the very existence of the nation to which they belong. show them gold, and there is no work on earth too dirty for them to undertake! and we have, i fear, many such men in our public services. it is men of this stamp who have made the very name of "spy" a by-word in all countries and all times--not the men who risk their lives in order to gain an advantage for the cause to which they are attached by every sacred obligation of honour. parrott, up to august, , was a gunner attached to h.m.s. "pembroke" at sheerness. he was a warrant officer, and as such would have opportunities of obtaining information which would be denied to those of lower rank. the charge against him was, of course, not one of spying, since the offence was not committed in time of war. it was couched in the following terms:-- that he being a british officer did feloniously communicate at ostend to a person unknown certain information in regard to the arms, armaments, dispositions and movements of ships and men of his majesty's navy which was calculated, or intended to be, or might be useful to an enemy. in considering parrott's case we have to remember that he was an englishman, in the service of the crown in the navy, and a british officer. he was in a position of responsibility, and his pay, with allowances, would work out at about £ a year, so that he had not even the excuse of poverty to urge in mitigation of his horrible offence. he had been in the navy for a number of years, and he was regarded as an efficient and trustworthy officer, so that he was able to become acquainted with matters which it was his obvious duty to guard with the most jealous care. he had been associated with the building of the "agamemnon" on the clyde, so that he was intimately acquainted with all those particulars of guns and armaments which, in the event of war, it would be of the utmost interest to an enemy to know. he knew, in fact, of confidential matters of the utmost importance. parrott, on july th, , asked for and obtained leave of absence, on the plea that he wanted to go to devonport. on the same day he sent a telegram, not from sheerness, where he lived, but from sittingbourne, to "richard dinger," at an address in berlin, saying, "coming eight o'clock saturday, seymour." the same day he left sheerness by train. a lady travelled with him as far as sittingbourne, and then he went on alone to dover. apparently he had already become an object of suspicion, for on the admiralty pier at dover he was questioned by detective-inspector grey. he was searched, and on him was found a piece of torn paper on which were the words: "when there is a chance," "coming over on saturday of that same week," "you telegraph probably saturday, then i make all my arrangements to leave the moment i get order." on the other side of the paper were the words, "richard dinger, esq.," and "with much love, yours, r." parrott's explanation of all this was that he had been writing to a woman in the name of another man, and that he was going to meet her at ostend. in his pocket was found a naval signal-form, and in answer to the inspector he admitted that he was a naval officer, and asked that his wife should not be told about the "lady." the inspector decided to let him go, but kept the paper. parrott evidently thought that the detective had no suspicion as to the real motive of his visit to ostend, or he would surely have taken the alarm. he crossed, however, to ostend, carefully shadowed all the time by no less acute an observer than ex-inspector melville of scotland yard. when the boat arrived at ostend, parrott went through the station, and was joined by another man. there was no greeting, no welcome, no handshaking, not a sign of recognition; the other man simply sidled up alongside parrott and they went off together. mr. melville formed the opinion that the man was a foreigner, and probably a german. they went about together for a time and then parrott returned to dover. an inquiry followed, and ultimately parrott's name was removed from the navy list. the case against him was not, however, complete, and it was not until october that the police were able to lay him by the heels. it was then found that he was having letters addressed to him in the name of couch delivered at a tobacconist's shop at chelsea. five or six letters came to him, and on november th two police officers went to the shop, where another letter had arrived. during the day parrott called, the letter was given to him, and he was at once arrested. in his presence the letter was opened. inside were two £ bank of england notes--which, it was afterwards shown, had been in circulation in germany--and a letter bearing the postmark "london, e.," which was as follows:-- dear mr. couch,--i am very much obliged to you for your prompt reply to my last letter. now i beg to place in your hands some questions in addition to my last letter. have the goodness to leave as soon as possible for firth of forth, ascertaining about the following:--which parts of the fleet are in or off the forth since november . only the vessels of the first and eighth destroyer flotilla, or which other men-of-war of any kind else? where is the second destroyer flotilla now? have there been mobilising tests of the flotillas and coast defences in the firth of forth? what are the flotillas doing or proposing now? what number of royal fleet reserve class a are called in now for the yearly exercise? where do they exercise? are any of these men kept longer than a fortnight? i think it will be necessary to stay some days at firth of forth for gathering information about those questions. i should be much obliged if i could be informed as soon as you have got satisfying statements about one or several of these points. do not wait to answer until you have found out all i wish to know. enclosed £ as travel expenses for the last and this journey. please tell me in the next letter after having returned to london your expenses that i can hand you the balance if the £ should not do it. i beg you to keep yourself ready, if possible also in the near future, to run over immediately to any place as soon as rumours as to extraordinary preparations of material and personal are running. in such a case please do not wait until you have received an order from me, but leave on your own accord, and at the same time send your address and make your doings known to me with particulars of the reason.--yours truly, richard. i have given this letter in full for several reasons. parrott was not definitely charged with giving information to germany, but the letter is obviously the work of a german, and, moreover, a german who was working in london--for it was posted in the eastern district! it suggests, moreover, that the germans suspected that some naval movements were on foot, and were willing to pay handsomely to get the news; it will be noted that parrott was practically given _carte blanche_ to spend what he liked without waiting for authority from his master. a subsequent examination of his banking account showed that he had paid in about fourteen £ notes, some of which had been in circulation in germany. he had also been in hamburg and flushing, two centres of german espionage. parrott's own explanation of the affair was that he met a woman in a london music hall and went over to ostend to see her. while he was there he failed to meet the woman, but a man came up to him and asked him if he was expecting to meet anyone. he replied that he expected to meet a lady, and the man then professed to know about her, and said she was unable to come. after that he received a letter from the man he met at ostend. at that time he had been dismissed from the service, and the letter expressed the concern of the writer, and the lady had offered to help him. he replied asking what assistance they could give, and had a letter asking him to go to hamburg. he went and met the man, who said he was a newspaper correspondent, and asked him to write an article once a week dealing with naval matters--a story curiously like that told by the spy schulz. he afterwards received a letter from "richard" outlining the kind of article required. the man said: "let me know the progress of warships building, ships launched, ships laid down, and the movements of ships. send me a specimen article dealing with the subject." he then bought a copy of a naval paper and from it wrote an article, which he sent. then parrott described how he got a letter from the lady asking him to go to rotterdam to see her. this he did, hoping, as he said, "to induce her to come to england, as he wished to raise the question why he was dismissed from the service." not unnaturally the lady declined to come, but parrott admitted that she told a man who was with her to pay his expenses, and then gave him francs. "i have little doubt but that you were entrapped by a woman," said mr. justice darling, in sending parrott to four years' penal servitude. "you have been long under suspicion," his lordship added; "i do not believe for a moment it was a first offence." even the liberal journals which had long insisted that there were no german spies in england thought this sentence was inadequate. "it will strike most people," said the _daily chronicle_, "as not erring on the side of over-severity." the case was a flagrant abuse of a most sacred trust, and deserved all the punishment the law allowed; as a matter of fact, it deserved a good deal more, and parrott was more than lucky that he was on trial, not in germany, but in england. the case of karl gustav ernst is of very great interest, not only as revealing some of the methods of the kaiser's "master-spy," the man steinhauer, but also as showing the utter futility of relying on "naturalisation" of germans to protect us against spying. we are constantly told that it is impossible for us to take steps against "naturalised" germans, as we have solemnly undertaken to treat them in all respects as englishmen, and we have even "naturalised" many germans since the outbreak of war. the ernst case ought to have been sufficient warning of the danger arising from the naturalised alien, but apparently there is no limit to the innocent trustfulness of our sleepy home office. how long it will be before we learn that a german no more changes his nature by adopting naturalisation than an ass does if he clothes himself in a lion's skin i cannot say; i only hope it will not be brought home to us by some terrible catastrophe which will seriously affect our fighting power. ernst, be it remembered, was not even naturalised; he claimed to have been born in england, and posed as an englishman. yet he was a spy; how much more, then, have we reason to suspect the recently "naturalised alien" whose national sympathies have not been blunted by birth and long residence in this country? the leopard cannot change his spots, and "once a german, always a german," is the only safe rule for us in the present crisis. ernst, who was a hairdresser in the caledonian road, london, had been for sixteen years in business there. his function was to act as a sort of "post-office" for steinhauer of potsdam, by whom letters were sent to him for distribution throughout england. in order to minimise risks of detection, these letters were posted in various parts of london. ernst, of course, besides acting as "post-office," made inquiries on his own account, and did some of the work of getting into touch with other agents. he was paid all out-of-pocket expenses and a kind of retaining fee, first of £ a month, and then, when he pointed out that the business was both risky and important, £ s. a month. ernst first came under suspicion of the nameless department as long ago as october, , and we ought to admit with cheerful gratitude that he was a very valuable ally to us! from the very commencement the authorities were, i happen to know, alive to what was going on, and the closest observation was kept on the hairdresser's shop. all letters were opened by the postal authorities, their contents were carefully copied, and a most useful accumulation of information thus came into the hands of the astute director of the department. it was not specifically stated that parrott was detected in this way, but as letters were sent to him by ernst we may well assume that by such means the authorities were put on his track. one of the most useful pieces of information picked up was a list of names and addresses of persons to whom letters from germany were sent for distribution, and who were spies at chatham, sheerness, portsmouth, rosyth, and other places. an amusing feature of the case was that after all these letters had been carefully examined and copied by the post office they were delivered in the ordinary course with only a very slight delay, and thus the suspicions of the spies, if indeed they entertained any, were most effectually put to sleep. the nameless department was not quite the fool the germans had some excuse for thinking it! an important discovery made early in the case was the _nom de guerre_ of steinhauer of potsdam. he had at that time become "mrs. reimers." "mr. j. walters, c/o k.g. ernst" was soon found to be ernst himself, who had long before suggested the adoption of that name to avoid suspicion. it will illustrate the thoroughness of german methods to mention that most of the letters sent to ernst were written on english paper, so that when he posted them there would be nothing to call special attention to them. one of the letters from steinhauer read in court was a request for english paper and envelopes, which ernst duly forwarded as "samples." many of the letters intercepted by the post office contained money, mostly in the shape of bank-notes. the work that ernst was doing was sufficiently important to justify a visit from the redoubtable steinhauer himself, as we learn from ernst's own statement. during the time he was in custody ernst made a statement to a detective in which he said:-- i am sorry i was introduced into this business. kronauer introduced me. i thought it was only a private inquiry business. i have only seen steinhauer once. that was just before christmas in . he came to my shop on a sunday morning. my shop was open and i had several customers there. he said to me, "are you mr. ernst?" and i said, "yes." he said, "do you know me?" i said, "no." he said, "you have heard of me, i am steinhauer. i see you are busy now. i want to have a quiet chat with you. i will come back after the shop is closed. what time do you close?" i said, "twelve o'clock." he said, "all right, i will come back after that, and went away. he returned later and came into my parlour, where we sat down and had a long talk." this statement is exceedingly interesting, as we know that steinhauer, as described in another chapter, was in london about this time, when he actually went to buckingham palace as a member of the kaiser's suite. that he should be able to spare time to visit a man in ernst's position shows what work the latter was doing, and also throws a good deal of light on the class of agent most useful to the germans--the "small" man, whose insignificant position does so much to guard him against suspicion. in one of his letters ernst represented himself as "a zealous stamp collector," of course to explain, in the event of detection, the constant remittances he was receiving from germany. this letter, addressed to "miss reimers," ran:-- dear mr. steinhauer,--best thanks for the marks, which were handed to me mid-day to-day. if you think it right you can in future send my advance direct to me without having recourse to a third person--namely, in the following way. i am a zealous stamp collector. many of my customers and also my assistants know this. on the occasion of the next remittance copy the following letter:-- "dear mr. ernst,--your last parcel of stamps arrived just in time to be included in last month's sale. messrs. kurt moeser and also koehler, the berlin stamp auctioneers, are realising good prices at their sales. i have enclosed marks on account, and will forward balance later. a receipt for the enclosed by return will oblige." i have sent you last sunday's paper. what i can see from the case henschel will go over to the british secret service just as the doctor from glasgow has done. it has also occurred to me that henschel's wife's maiden name was miss riley, and that one of scotland yard's special service inspectors, who had the case in hand, was also called riley. in conclusion, many greetings.--i remain, yours, j. walters. it may be mentioned incidentally that the "doctor from glasgow" was armgaard carl graves, a well-known spy. henschel was a german who was accused in london on his own confession of disclosing naval secrets and of conspiring with the ex-gunner parrott. it was suggested that certain information he gave was communicated under the understanding that he should not be prosecuted, and under the circumstances the crown withdrew the case, the accused giving an undertaking that he would not in any way make known the matter with which he had become acquainted. ernst's case was hopeless from the start; in fact, so complete was the evidence, that as soon as mr. bodkin had opened the case for the crown, his counsel withdrew, explaining that the prisoner had assured him he had had nothing to do with espionage, but that he (counsel) was sure mr. bodkin would not make an opening statement he could not justify. ernst was sent to seven years' penal servitude. "you are a mean, mercenary spy," said mr. justice coleridge in sentencing him, "ready to betray your country to the enemy for money; equally ready, i dare say, to betray germany to us for an increased reward." the case could not have been better summed up. i will now pass on to the case of armgaard carl graves, which is remarkable chiefly for its extraordinary sequel. graves, who was arrested in glasgow, had been receiving letters at the post office in the name of "john stafford." when he was taken into custody a memorandum-book found in his pocket was found to contain a number of leaves gummed together at the open edges. when they were cut apart the police found groups of figures opposite german phrases, apparently constituting a code. in a pocket-case several more groups of figures were found, the number being subtracted from each. that afterwards supplied the key to the code. there was also a note in german relating to a new gun under construction by beardmore and company, and three code telegrams from amsterdam. there were also found a number of maps covering the firth of forth and the vicinity, and a bundle of cartridge cases, including two of the latest british army pattern. the description of the new gun was said to be practically accurate, and it was also stated that graves' code appeared to indicate every class of ship in the navy, and also such strategic points as scapa flow, moray firth and cromarty--the same code which is probably being used by the naval spies still amongst us to-day. this code, used for the telegrams between the prisoner and his continental correspondents, was, said counsel for the crown, a very deadly one to be found in his possession. if the person utilising it were in a certain place on a certain day and found that mines were being laid, he would telegraph the figures , to , . "he seems to be the ideal character for a spy," counsel added; "he has a very high intelligence, and is sociable, genial and affable, while his moral character is not of a very high standard." he was sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. "well--exit armgaard carl graves," was the prisoner's only remark on hearing the decision. graves was sentenced on july rd, . on june th, , came the amazing announcement that he had been released. when, and why he was set at liberty, no one outside official circles knows; all the information given was that "graves was released in due course of law, but there is no further information to give." graves's own story was that he was released in order that he might join the british secret service, but this fact, and even the fact that he had been released, came to us from america. the sensational story of his release and subsequent adventures was published by the _new york american_ in the following narrative:-- armgaard carl graves, former secret agent in the german service, who was convicted of espionage in england last july and sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment, declares that shortly after his sentence he was released in order that he might join the british secret service. he was sent to america, and there discovered that envoys of germany and japan had met in new york with the object of completing an anti-american agreement. he succeeded in making a copy of the document and cabling it to the british foreign office. he never got any payment from england, however, so has decided to make the contents public. the agreement binds germany not to interfere in a great japanese scheme of colonisation in the south seas. graves afterwards published a book in which he professed to give away many of the secrets of the german spy system. information we have received from other sources shows that a great deal of the book is well founded, and it may well be that on the whole it is a fairly reliable exposure of german methods. but the last thing one should do is to trust or believe the spy! according to graves--whose account we should accept with considerable reserve--the heads of the departments of the spy-organisation in berlin are all german officers, recruited from "the old feudal aristocracy." he declares that though they plan the work, they never execute it. "no active or commissioned officer," he says, "does secret service work." he shows, too, that whatever ethics they may hold about doing dirty work themselves, the german officers wash their hands entirely of the methods their subordinates may choose or find it necessary to adopt. one of them explained the matter to him in terms which admit of no misunderstanding. he said:-- we cannot afford to be squeamish. the interests at stake are too vast to let personal ethical questions stand in the way. what would be required of you in the first instance is to gain for us information such as we seek. the means by which you gain this information will be left entirely to your own discretion. we expect results. it was also made clear to him that he had only himself to depend upon, and if he got into trouble he would get no help. "be pleased to understand," was the official warning given at the first interview, "that this service is dangerous, and no official assistance could be given in any circumstances." as to the agents employed in this work, graves says the personal branch, the most important, is managed from the wilhelmstrasse, the german foreign office, the emperor in person, or his immediate privy councillor. he adds:-- the personnel consists of all classes of men and women. princes and counts, lawyers and doctors, actors and actresses, mondaines of the great world, demi-mondaines of the half-world, waiters and porters, all are made use of as occasion requires. it may well happen that your interesting acquaintance in the saloon of an express steamer, or your charming companion in the tea-room of the ritz, is the paid agent of some government. a sinister side of the profession is also revealed; grave risks are run by the spy even from his own side. a woman named olga bruder, whose death in a hotel on the russian border was described as suicide, is said to have been poisoned; a lieutenant von zastrov was compelled to fight duels until he was at last killed. they knew too much, graves declares, and the death sentence came from their own employers. one can well believe it, for the records of german espionage show that in their own interests the germans stick at nothing. one episode which graves relates concerns a famous dancer, still living, whom the germans believed to be a russian government spy. they suspected that she had an "affair" with a young officer in the potsdam garrison, and one night they became interested in a gold "vanity bag" which the young officer had given to her; they believed it contained some secret military intelligence. how they got possession of it was very clever. the dancer was at supper at the ice palace in berlin, and her bag lay on the table. a "clumsy" waiter upset a glass of champagne on the cloth. instantly the cloth was whipped off, and, with the bag inside it, was taken away. a moment or two later back came the waiter with the bag and many apologies. the waiter was a clever spy, and in the moment or two that he had been absent the incriminating letter had been secured. the bag was offered to the dancer, who at once opened it, and finding the letter had disappeared, promptly said the bag was not hers. but she was put over the frontier just the same. many more cases might be cited to show the ramifications of the german spy system in england, but i have selected the foregoing as typical, and most of the others follow more or less the same general outline. they all point to the same conclusion: that the number of german agents in england is endless, that they are to be found in all places and in all ranks of society, that they are clever and daring to the last degree, and that nothing is too large or too small for their attention. many of them, no doubt, have been interned; many of them, no doubt, are still at work, risking everything in their ceaseless efforts to bring about our undoing. there is only one effective protection--_to make a clean sweep of all germans and austrians, naturalised or not_, and confine them in the concentration camps until the war is over. treat them properly, by all means, but put them out of the way of doing us harm. this drastic measure, it is true, will not protect us against the traitor within our gates, but it would at least do much to remove the greatest source of peril. chapter xi , aliens at large in great britain we know, from official sources, that in spite of all the foolish self-congratulation of mr. mckenna and his friends--who are "getting on" towards birthday honours,--and his attempt to gag the _globe_, there are some , alien enemies still at large in great britain, and upon their activities on their country's behalf, until recently our only check was the shadowy form of "registration" that we have adopted. even many of those interned are now being released upon bonds being given by responsible citizens. unfortunately, anyone who ventures to suggest that these people--whose bonds may be signed by persons in german pay--may constitute a very serious danger, is at once branded, officially, as an alarmist, and accused of attempting to manufacture a "spy scare," whatever official optimists may mean by that term. i am no alarmist, and the last thing i should wish to see in our country would be a scare of any description. but as i have, for so many years, made a special study of the spy question, as the evidence i was able to lay before the government caused the establishment of our anti-espionage precautions, i think, without undue egotism, i may claim to know something about the matter. i should have remained silent unless i had been absolutely convinced that there is still a very real and very grave peril of espionage owing to our supineness in this matter of aliens living here practically uncontrolled, and certainly owing to their great numbers not being under anything like effective supervision. the popular idea of the spy still seems to be that he is, invariably, an individual sent specially from germany to wander about this country picking up such scraps of information as he can. there could be no more dangerous delusion. the germans are far too acute to trust to such methods; they know a great deal too much about the science of espionage to dream of thinking that foreigners sent hap-hazard into this country--obviously strangers and, therefore, most likely to invite attention--are likely to be able to carry out safely the difficult and dangerous work of espionage. their secret agents are chosen, invariably, with the utmost care and method. the "foreign" spy is not the worst peril; the real danger comes from those who, for years, have made their homes among us, who have married englishwomen, and have become so familiar to their neighbours that they are in little or no danger of being under the slightest suspicion. this has been proved over and over again, both here and in france, during the present war. the case of the barber ernst was a good instance. this man had carried on business at the same shop _for sixteen years_, and we can be quite sure that the last thing his neighbours thought of him was that he was a spy in german pay! no. he was a good englishman like the rest of us. yet, it was shown that he was a secret agent of the most dangerous character, and even worthy of a personal visit from the great and distinguished steinhauer himself! now i hope that the many who have read my books over the last twenty years will at least believe that i am one of the last men to be suspected of any desire to belittle my own countrymen. i am simply an englishman who has tried to interest them. to-day i point a peril to each and all of my million readers. but i wish to make it quite clear that nothing i say in this connection should be taken as reflecting on the work of our confidential department--a department which has done magnificently and which in every way i respect. they have matched brains against brains, and cunning against cunning, and the balance of the account is decidedly in their favour. they have, indeed, fooled steinhauer's agents all through--examined their correspondence and their reports, tracked the agents down by the information thus gained, arrested a large number of them, and to a very great extent smashed the organisation in its original form. so much i cheerfully admit, and congratulate them heartily upon their success. my point is that the work has not gone far enough, that what they have done has not been adequately supplemented, that much yet remains to be done before we can assume that a reasonable degree of security has been attained. on october th last, a very important statement was issued by the home secretary, describing the steps that had been taken "to deal with the system of espionage on which germany has placed so much reliance." i have shown elsewhere how the confidential department came into being, and how it was able to "discover the ramifications of the german secret service in england." in this statement mr. mckenna says:-- the agents ... were watched and shadowed without in general taking any hostile action or allowing them to know that their movements were watched. when, however, any actual step was taken to convey documents or plans of importance from this country to germany, the spy was arrested, and in such cases evidence sufficient to secure his conviction was usually found in his possession. proceedings under the official secrets act were taken by the director of public prosecutions, and in six cases sentences were passed varying from eighteen months to six years' penal servitude. at the same time steps were taken to mark down and keep under observation all the agents known to have been engaged in this traffic, so that when any necessity arose the police might lay hands upon them at once; and accordingly on august th, before the declaration of war, instructions were given by the home secretary for the arrest of twenty known spies, and all were arrested. this figure, it is added, does not cover over two hundred who were under suspicion or noted to be kept under special observation, the great majority of whom were interned at, or soon after, the declaration of war. now, although the spy organisation which had been established before the war may have been partially broken up, mr. mckenna admits that "it is still necessary to take _the most rigorous measures_ to prevent the establishment of any fresh organisation, and to deal with individual spies who might previously have been working in this country outside the organisation, or who might be sent here under the guise of neutrals after the declaration of war." here really we have the crux of the whole matter. it is easy enough to deal with the known spy; it is easy enough in time of war for the post office to watch very closely correspondence not only with germany, but also with neutral countries, from which letters can so easily be sent into germany--as i have sent them--and it is easy enough to censor cables. mr. mckenna says:-- this censorship has been extremely effective in stopping secret communications by cable or letter with the enemy, but as its existence was necessarily known to them, it has not, except in a few instances, produced materials for the detection of espionage. i should think not, indeed! would any sane person suspect the german secret service of such imbecility as endeavouring to send important reports by post or cable from this country in time of war, except as a last desperate resort to deal with some unexpected situation in an apparently harmless message? it was this very thing that brought about the downfall of lody, and the fact that he attempted to send a cable-message shows how urgent he thought it was that his message should reach its destination as soon as possible. he trusted to luck, but luck failed him. if i thought our confidential department regarded such a proceeding as normal, i should indeed be in despair. remember one highly important fact. it is perfectly easy to-day to travel from holland or denmark to berlin, and there is no difficulty in anyone with a british or american passport travelling from this country to holland. some two hundred british and american passports have been "mislaid"--in plainer language, stolen--by the german authorities. can we think for a moment that it would be impossible for the germans to find agents quite willing to run, as commercial travellers or what not, the trivial risk of making the journey from england to holland, where their information could be handed over for conveyance to berlin? lody came to england as an american; i have no doubt he could have gone back to berlin in the same guise if he had wanted to. we know perfectly well that every scrap of official news published here finds its way to berlin in a very short time--a distinguished british general a few days ago stated that the german commanders had copies of the london papers within a few hours of publication. where, then, assuming a spy in england has secured some useful information, lies the difficulty of transmitting it to those who are ready and anxious to receive it? suspected passengers on the steamers, it may be said, can be searched, and letters found upon them examined. is it to be imagined that a spy's reports would be written in copperplate on a large sheet of paper for all and sundry to read? need they even be written at all? censorship on mails and on cables, and the close examination of cross-channel passengers are excellent precautions, but, after all, we are only locking the door after the horse has been stolen. admit that the spy is here, grant that he has got hold of a piece of important information, and i will wager that he finds means of transmitting it to his government, if he possesses an ounce of sense. the man louis trabbaut, sentenced at marlborough street, had passed through the german lines nine times between london and brussels. more than this, it has been shown that the kaiser, since the war began, has been using a courier _to send letters to london_! on october th, mr. h.l. reiach, editor of the _yachting monthly_, received a card from vice-admiral k. von eisendecher, who is attached to the kaiser's suite, stating that he would no longer subscribe for that journal. there is no reason, as the _daily mail_ pointed out, why this particular communication should not have been sent by open post in the ordinary way, but for some reason the kaiser's admiral preferred to use the secret courier service. the letter, written at karlsruhe, was evidently brought over by a courier, stamped with an english penny stamp, and posted in the south-west district of london. i wonder what else came over by that courier, and, still more, what went back! "it is practically impossible," said a high police official discussing this incident, "to prevent this smuggling of letters." the only certain way to prevent it would be to detain and strip every passenger arriving at our south and east coast ports, and minutely examine every article of their clothing. the authorities have power to detain and search any suspected person, but that is very different from searching every passenger--man, woman and child. the real remedy lies not in these palliatives; the disease is desperate enough to call for drastic remedies. we must stop so far as is humanly possible--and no one asks more--the collection of information here. and there is only one really effective way of doing this--intern or deport every individual of enemy birth, naturalised or not, until the end of the war. now i am not alone in holding this opinion; it has been expressed by our judges, and by much more exalted individuals than my humble self. so recently as october th, the recorder of pontefract said:-- all those who have not been naturalised at all should be deported until the end of the war. those who had been naturalised during the past ten years, since when germany has been competing navally with england, should be interned under supervision but allowed to conduct their business; men naturalised over ten years ago should be allowed to live on their own premises under substantial bond for their good behaviour under police supervision. this is the opinion, not of a layman, but of a judge, speaking with all the authority and responsibility which must attach to his high office. must we write him down as a spy-maniac or an alarmist? lord leith of fyvie is a nobleman who has been giving special attention to the spy-peril, more particularly along the east coast. here is his view, expressed at torquay as recently as october rd:-- at last the chief spy has been removed from the neighbourhood of rosyth (it was late enough, i might remark!), and the government has recognised the necessity of making a wholesale sweep of aliens. there cannot be any distinction between classes. the only exception ought to be in favour of english women who have married aliens. all others ought to be transported to a neutral country; out of great britain they must go. such a course would certainly be the most humane course that could be taken. originally the east coast was the most dangerous zone, but in view of the desire of the "head spy and devil emperor william" to seize calais, it was necessary to deal with the whole coast. the government recently decided to arrest all enemy aliens between the ages of and . this, of course, meant that all men of military age were to be arrested, and it was a welcome step. no doubt this decision, which was announced on october nd, considerably reduced the danger of espionage arrangements that had previously been made, by removing many of the agents. but are we to assume that the home secretary considers that no german over is capable of acting the part of a spy? or is he under the impression that is the utmost age attained by germans in this country? "after this war," said mr. justice ridley at worcester assizes on october nd, "we must make an end of spies. the german nation appears to think that it can conquer europe by a system of espionage. we will have no more of that." most people will concur with the learned judge's view, but will regard it as rather belated to wait till "the end of the war" to make an end of the german espionage which is rampant _now_! it is often represented by well-meaning people that it would be unjust, and not in accordance with british fair-play, to take steps against aliens who have become naturalised. we are told that these people have been promised the full liberty accorded to british-born subjects, and that to treat them in a manner different from other englishmen would be to go back upon our solemn undertaking. i confess this argument leaves me unmoved. we have no use for the unpatriotic get-rich-at-the-expense-of-your-neighbour arguments. we are britons, and britons we will remain in spite of the puny leading articles in unimportant papers. naturalisation, in the great majority of cases, means absolutely nothing; it is, indeed, usually adopted purely for business reasons. seldom does a german become so imbued with profound veneration for our institutions and customs that nothing short of citizenship of our empire will satisfy his sacred feelings of patriotism. moreover, naturalisation is one of the spy's favourite devices, and surely one of his best methods of disarming any possible suspicion. but these are not ordinary times, and the requirements of the situation as we see it cannot surely be met by ordinary methods. nothing is more jealously guarded in this country than the right to be protected from arbitrary imprisonment. no one in england can be arrested and kept in custody for more than a few hours without being fully informed of the nature of the charge against him, and brought before a magistrate, whose duty it is to decide whether there is a _prima facie_ case against him, upon which he should be sent for trial. that, in ordinary times, is the british practice. yet, only a few days before i write, the high court refused an order, under the habeas corpus act, that an englishman, who had been imprisoned for over a week without any charge having been made against him, should be brought up for trial. the case was a remarkable one. a collision had occurred between a submarine and a british steamer, and the captain of the steamer was arrested. no charge being preferred against him, application was made to the high court. it was stated in court that a charge might be made, but that it was against the interests of the nation that it should be stated. the application was therefore refused. looking at the absolute stringency of english law on this subject at ordinary times, that was a very remarkable decision, but i venture to think it was absolutely correct, since the interests of the state must at all times over-ride the rights of the individual. the question of the guilt or innocence of the captain, it should be remembered, was not before the court, and was not even discussed. the same rule, i contend, should be applied to the naturalised alien. it was burke who said that it was not possible to frame an indictment against a nation, but we can say with tolerable certainty that no german loses his german sympathies simply because he takes out naturalisation papers at the british home office. undoubtedly, if it were determined to intern or deport all of alien birth, whether naturalised or not, there would be many cases of hardship, and many people who are good citizens and perfectly loyal to the country of their adoption would suffer. many such are suffering to-day. i am not going to suggest for a moment that every one of the thousands of aliens we have interned in the concentration camps is dangerous, either as a spy or as a combatant. i do insist, however, that many of them are, and to catch all the guilty we must necessarily, though with regret, inflict hardship on some who are innocent. exactly the same conditions apply to the naturalised alien; in many cases they apply with even greater force. in his published statement from which i have already quoted, mr. mckenna parades with intense satisfaction the absence, since the war began, of any outrages traceable to aliens. he says:-- another matter which has engaged the closest attention of the police has been the possibility of conspiracies to commit outrages. no trace whatever has been discovered of any such conspiracy, and no outrage of any sort has yet been committed by any alien--not even telegraph wires having been maliciously cut since the beginning of the war. as a dose of soothing-syrup administered in mr. mckenna's "best bedside manner" this is inimitable; as a contribution to the solution of a very serious problem, it lacks finality. i wonder whether it has ever occurred to the home secretary, or the sleepy department over which he presides, that, up to the present moment, there has not been the slightest necessity for any alien to commit an outrage of any description, and that to have done so before the time was ripe would merely have meant rousing such an outburst here that, when the time did come, there would probably not have been an alien left at liberty to give help at the psychological moment? what, in the name of johnson, would it profit a german, or germany, to blow up at the present moment a tube station or one or two bridges on our main lines? the time for that was when we were moving the expeditionary force, if at all, under present conditions. but the movement of the expeditionary force was carried out with such speed and secrecy that hardly anyone knew what was going on, and in any case a slight delay to a few units of that force would not have been a vital matter. now whether it is possible or not, whether it has a faint chance of success or whether it is foredoomed to hopeless failure, an invasion of england is at the present moment the dearest dream of every german heart. to compass that, they are prepared to make any and every sacrifice. personally, i have no fear that to-day such an invasion would have the remotest chance of success, but that is not the belief of germans, military or civilian. they believe that it is not only possible, but that it must succeed, and we know that plans for carrying it out have been carefully elaborated for years past. suppose the germans come. troops will be instantly hurried towards the scene of their landing by every railway in england. what, then, i ask, would be the value of a few skilfully placed charges of explosive? what, then, would be the value of a successful attempt to cut the trunk telephone or telegraph wires running along one of our main lines of communication? what would it mean to us if an important bridge on a main line were shattered, and many trainloads of troops delayed for hours? remember that in the unlikely event of invasion time will be calculated by minutes, for the germans must rely upon the effects of a desperate dash to strike us in a vital spot before we could overwhelm them by accumulated reinforcements. but mr. mckenna tells us "there is no evidence of a conspiracy to commit outrages." let us fold our arms and sleep! i wonder what the war office would tell him if he hinted that there was no evidence that the germans were planning to invade us, and that they had better cease the arrangements they are very properly making to deal with such a contingency, however remote or unlikely it may appear! it is not in the least degree likely that all the german arrangements and plans have been made for outside operations only, and that every internal device that could help to ruin us has been neglected; that is not at all the german way. it has already been officially admitted that there is reason for believing that the germans have established petrol stores in these islands. is there any reason why they should not equally have established depots of explosives for use in the same contingency? our naval authorities say quite plainly that, with the present disposition of the fleet, no invading force above the proportions of a raiding party intended to create panic could ever hope to reach these shores. to that, i think, the great majority of our people, supremely confident in our splendid navy, cordially subscribe. but in war no chances can be taken, for the unexpected always happens, and though we may not discuss the measures that have been adopted, it is known that the war office authorities have done everything possible to provide for even such a remote contingency. can we say that the home office has done everything possible to cut the claws of the german plotters, when so many potential enemies are still allowed to be at large amongst us? and further, many enemy aliens are now being released, and returning to their employment in hotels. mr. mckenna has quite justifiably claimed that the confidential department has broken up the organisation of spies that existed in england before the war. for that, i desire quite sincerely to give them every credit. the home secretary has admitted, however, the necessity of taking every possible step to deal with those who have come here since the war began. and in this connection a very serious position has been created by the swarms of unhappy refugees from belgium who have been pouring into the country for several months past. among these thousands, it is absolutely certain, there must be many clever german agents, possibly men who have long lived in belgium, and speak french or flemish without a trace of german accent. what steps are being taken to guard against this peril? it must be remembered that in the case of these unfortunate people there can be no question of passports, or papers of any kind. the great majority of them are quite glad enough to have escaped with their lives, without troubling about their papers, even had they wished to do so. there would not be the slightest difficulty in german agents slipping over amongst these thousands without any risk of detection, and we can be tolerably confident that many have done so. it has been suggested that some of the better educated belgians, about whose _bona fides_ there could be no question, should be given the work of tracking down any possible impostors. they would probably be glad of the work, and in this direction they could do much to help us. they would be only too keen upon doing so, for most of them are filled with a hatred of everything german, beside which our own growing dislike is a mere nothing. to lay by the heels one of the german spies who have contributed so powerfully to the ruin of belgium would be, to the average refugee, the keenest delight. i believe this plan would be well worth a trial, and i should like to see it put into effect immediately. the trial and conviction on a charge of high treason of mr. nicholas emil herman adolph ahlers, a naturalised german who, for some years, acted as german consul in sunderland, is a remarkable and emphatic corroboration of every word i have written as to the manner in which the authorities are dealing with the alien peril. mr. ahlers was accused of assisting german reservists to return to germany after the declaration of war. it was alleged that he sought out our enemies, impressed upon them the necessity of returning to germany, and gladly paid their fares. the striking feature of the affair was, it is alleged, ahlers' own statement, "although naturalised, i am a german at heart." on december th, the prisoner was convicted of high treason, and sentenced to death. yet anything more farcical could not well be imagined, and was certainly well in keeping with the tactics of the home office. mr. ahlers was prosecuted for having "adhered to the king's enemies." yet he had only, after all, succoured the king's enemies to the extent _actually allowed to him by the order in council_! as mr. justice bankes justly observed at the appeal, it is abhorrent to the mind that a man should be sentenced to death for doing what the home secretary's circular expressly permitted. as exposed in the court of appeal, the whole prosecution was simply another effort of the authorities to mislead and gull the public, and to play to the gallery. when this amazing prosecution was undertaken, and the solicitor-general was sent down to durham to invoke the majesty of the law, _the home office must have known_ that the order in council, issued by that same department, gave alien enemies--up to august the th--the right to leave our shores! therefore mr. ahlers ought never to have been prosecuted and sentenced to death. what was presented to the public as a grim and terrible tragedy, turned out to be an amusing, though hollow comedy. yet we find, even in the final scene at the court of appeal, the solicitor-general gallantly protesting that the order in council had nothing to do with the case. of course, as the press pointed out, had the matter been anything but the merest jest produced for the purpose of making the people of this country believe that the government were at last tackling the spy peril in earnest, the minister, or other official, who drew up the order in council might have found himself in an awkward position. it allowed alien enemies, without any distinction as to whether they were combatants or not, to leave this country and join the king's enemies _for a full week after war had been declared_, and whoever was responsible for it was much more deserving of condemnation than the unfortunate "german at heart." but a further fact seems to have escaped the notice of the public. it is this. when the conviction for high treason had been obtained against mr. ahlers--a conviction improperly obtained--the government, with their conscience awakened, hastened to prepare the public for the comedy by issuing from the press bureau the following illuminating communication:-- "the conviction of ahlers is subject to appeal, the judge having granted a certificate of appeal on certain points of law which arose at the trial. the sentence of death was the only one which the judge could pronounce in accordance with the law on a conviction for high treason. if, on the appeal, the conviction is affirmed, the secretary of state for home affairs will consider the question of advising a commutation of the death-sentence with a view to substituting a term of penal servitude or imprisonment." the whole prosecution was a ghastly hoax, for mr. ahlers had committed no legal offence. the proceedings, so dignified and realistic, which resulted in him lying under sentence of death for a crime which he had not committed, was merely a hollow pretence in order to give a sop to the public. it reflects no credit upon our authorities, whoever was responsible, and such proceedings are, surely, not in accordance with the high morality of british justice. it is important, however, as serving as yet another example of the pitiful rule-of-thumb methods which are being adopted towards this grave peril. if the home department, in its wisdom, bestirs itself in future and prosecutes dangerous aliens and spies, it is to be hoped that it will not endeavour to further mislead us by presenting such a lamentable spectacle as it has done in the case of mr. ahlers. surely this is not the moment when the department should be engaged in trying to discover whether the german soldiery were guilty of any atrocities in belgium. the futility of the latter i pointed out to mr. mckenna in a letter i ventured to address to him at the home office on december th, . it ran as follows:-- "sir,--though seven days have now elapsed since my letter of december rd, i am still awaiting a reply, as i am anxious--in the interests of the public--to have an explanation of the matter to which it refers. "i desire to point out to your department--which, according to mr. aitken's letter to me of november th, is making an inquiry into allegations of outrages by german troops, and in which my aid is requested--that any further waste of public time and public money may be avoided if it will--as it no doubt can do if it wishes--obtain, through the proper channels, a copy of general von bülow's proclamation posted in liége on august nd last. in this, the general in question declares in reference to the destruction of the town of andenne:-- "'it is _with my consent_ that the general had the whole place burned down, and about one hundred people shot.' "in addition, three official reports of the royal belgian commission, sent to me by his excellency the belgian minister, are before me, and i have interviewed m. carton de wiart, belgian minister of justice, regarding them. "further, i would point out that your department might, with advantage, examine the proclamation of field-marshal von der goltz, and also major deckmann's poster published at grivegnée. "as these, no doubt, will be as available to you as they are to the public press, perhaps your department may obviate further waste of time by examining them. "meanwhile, i await, with anticipation, a reply to my letter of december rd." let us hope that the home department--if only responsible for german spies in london, as it is--will really rub its eyes and awaken, ere it is too late. for five months the authorities had been continually warned by lord leith of fyvie, and others, of spies who were detected in the act of signalling at night off the east coast. the newspapers were flooded with correspondence on the subject, while i myself received more than a hundred letters asking me to urge the authorities to take up the matter, and deal with it. on december th, yorkshire had its first instalment of the fruits of the extraordinary manner in which this signalling has been permitted to continue, and the freedom given to spies. on the previous night it was noticed, by reliable observers, that the night signallers were specially active, and at eight o'clock next morning, the towns of scarborough, whitby, and hartlepool were bombarded by german ships, resulting in over four hundred persons being injured, and over one hundred killed, including many women and children. information supplied by secret means to the german navy had already enabled shells to be flung at yarmouth, but here, as in the attack in yorkshire, we have again very clear proof and evidence of spies. indeed, already orders have been issued to shoot at sight anyone found signalling from the coast--but, alas! after so many innocent persons have lost their lives! the daring adventure of the german ships show that they must have received information concerning the distribution of our fleet. according to the first lord of the admiralty, practically the whole fast cruiser force of the german navy, including some great ships vital to their fleet and utterly irreplaceable, was risked for the passing pleasure of killing as many english people as possible, irrespective of sex, age, or condition, in the limited time available. now we know sufficient of german thoroughness to be quite sure that they would never have risked a journey of over four hundred miles from their base, through a sea sown with mines, unless they were well acquainted with the channels left open. knowledge of the exact positions in which we have placed our mines could only have been gained through spies amongst us. surely this should be sufficient answer to mr. mckenna's communiqué to the press. a special correspondent of the london _evening news_, who passed between london and berlin twice, unsuspected, during the month of december, and even visited vienna, writing on december th of what he saw in the german capital, declared that he heard the raid upon scarborough discussed in certain circles in berlin on december th, _three days before it took place_! in the course of his comments he wrote:-- "i always thought the spy mania in england exaggerated, but now i am absolutely persuaded that even those englishmen who recognise this peril do not realise the lengths to which it goes. they have been suspecting waiters and servants, whilst the spies are in high social positions; they have contented themselves with searching the houses of german barbers and grocers, whilst neglecting the hands which collect and forward to berlin the information gathered by more humble satellites. "it is very sad to have to say such things, but i think the most dangerous spies still in england are not germans, whether naturalised or not, but are people belonging to neutral countries--even to countries actually fighting germany--and subjects of great britain herself. "i would not have written this if i was not sure of it; the diplomat from whom i got the information assured me that there are some english and french of both sexes who come regularly to berlin, or to frontier towns through neutral countries, and have conversations with officials and then return. the restrictions as to luggage and passports, both in france and in england, are not half as severe as they should be; _they are even slacker than at the beginning of the war_. i know, personally, of a number of stolen american passports under the shelter of which german spies are now travelling, and an italian consul with whom i happened to travel a few days ago, said he had discovered two fellows with false italian passports almost perfectly imitated. "in berlin i heard people, well-informed people, saying that in every english town of importance, and on every spot of strategical value on the british coast, germany has got _a few friends_ keeping their eyes open and ready to receive an eventual german raid, and to give their friends as strong a hand as possible." chapter xii how to end the spy-peril "after this war," said mr. justice ridley, in a passage already quoted, "we must make an end of spies." "after this war," however, may be too late. i contend we should make an end of spies _now_, and with that end in view i would propose very strong measures--so strong that, i willingly admit, only very grave national peril would justify it. that peril, i contend, actually exists to-day, _and no steps we can take to minimise it can be regarded as excessive_. at the present moment it is perfectly easy for any german agent to travel quite freely between england and the continent. as we know, the germans have in their possession a large number of stolen british and american passports. by means of these passports their agents can come and go between england and the continent practically as they please, taking with them any information they can pick up. and, although the collecting of information has been made much more difficult by the additional precautions taken since the outbreak of war, information is still to be obtained by those who know where and how to look for it. now, the only channels by which this information can be conveyed abroad at present are, first by correspondence in invisible ink beneath an unsuspicious letter addressed to a neutral country--this was proved at the court-martial of the prisoner of war, otto luz, at the douglas internment camp--secondly, by travellers between england and the continent, and thirdly, by secret wireless stations communicating between our shores and the german ships--probably submarines--lying off the coast. all three of these channels of leakage must be stopped. the first step should be the absolute closing of the sea routes from these shores to all persons, excepting those who are vouched for by the british foreign office. the second is a much closer and more persistent search for concealed wireless plants, and a third, a closer censorship upon outgoing mails to neutral countries. i happen to know that in certain instances censorship upon both cables and correspondence is quite inadequate. as to the second proposal, there will be no two opinions. wireless is already forbidden, and there is no hardship in taking steps to see that the law is obeyed. with regard to the first suggestion, i am well aware that many people will think it, as indeed it is, extremely drastic. it would, of course, cause great inconvenience, not only to british subjects, but to the subjects of neutral powers with whom we are on the best of terms. it would seriously interfere with business which we have every wish should continue, and i should never suggest it unless i were convinced of the urgent need. a correspondent who has just returned from holland, where, says the _evening news_, he saw british tradesmen doing business with german manufacturers, shows how easy it is for the germans to send professional spies to england _via_ flushing. a german permit will pass anyone over the belgian frontier into holland: a belgian passport is not necessary, but such passports are issued by the local authorities. there is nothing to prevent a german commander getting a belgian passport and issuing it to a german if it suits his purpose, while the present examination arrangements on the english side offer no obstacles to spies landing, especially from boats containing five or six hundred refugees. the remedy is to make the landing test far more stringent, and to use responsible belgians in the work. one can readily understand that the average englishman, even though he spoke french and flemish, would not be able to detect a german, speaking both languages, as being anything but a genuine belgian. such a man, however, would be readily detected by a belgian; however well he spoke the languages, some trick of accent or pronunciation would be sure to "give him away." thus our belgian friends could do much to prevent the german spy getting into the country. assume that the spy is here; how are we to prevent him getting out? by closing the sea routes to all who could not produce to our foreign office absolutely satisfactory guarantees of their _bona fides_. the ordinary passport system is not sufficient; the foreign office should demand, and see that it gets not only a photograph, but a very clear explanation of the business of every person who seeks to travel from england to the continent, backed by unimpeachable references from responsible british individuals, banks, or firms. in every single case of application for a passport it should be personal, and the most stringent enquiries should be made. i see no other means of putting an end to a danger which, whatever the official apologists may say, is still acute, and shows no signs of diminishing. under the best of conditions some leakage may take place. but our business is to see, by every means we can adopt, that the leakage is reduced to the smallest possible proportions. now, a few words as to the future. let us look forward to the time when the war is over, and europe is at peace again. will it be necessary for us to take steps to prevent a recrudescence of this german espionage, or can we assume that there will be nothing of the kind again? in the language of mr. justice ridley, we have got to "make an end of spies" once and for all. the spy system has gained a firm and, i believe, quite unshakeable footing in the german military system, and my own view is that directly the war is over the old game will begin all over again. whatever may be the result of the war, we can take it for granted that germany will cherish dreams of revenge, more especially against the "treacherous british," upon whom, at the present moment, she is pouring out all the vials of her concentrated hatred and malignity. she has been spending huge sums annually on her spy-system, and she will not readily give it up. i certainly cherish the hope that after the war we shall be spared the flood of german immigration that, quite apart from all questions of espionage, has, in past years, done so much harm to england by unloading on our crowded labour market a horde of ill-paid and wage-cutting workers, many of whom were trade spies, and who have done much to drive the british employee out of the positions which, by every natural and political law, he ought to hold. this has been made possible to a great extent by subsidies from german rivals anxious to get hold of british trade secrets. the german clerk will never be the welcome figure he has been in the past with certain british firms who have regarded nothing but cheapness in the appointment of their staffs. still, we may be certain that, welcome or unwelcome, the german will be with us again; as a rule, he is sufficiently thick-skinned to care very little whether he is wanted or not, provided he "gets there." he will be a potential danger, and his activities must be at once firmly restricted. with this end in view the french system of the registration and taxation of every alien coming to reside in this country ought to be insisted upon. many worthy people seem to think that there is something highly objectionable in a precaution which is taken by every european country except britain. as a matter of fact, there is nothing of the kind. every briton, in ordinary times, who goes to germany is registered by the police; there is no hardship and no inconvenience about it, and no reason whatever why the person whose motives are above suspicion should object to it. the same is true of russia, where the passport system is strict; yet, once you have registered, you are free to do pretty much as you please, so long as you do not attempt to interfere in political matters, which are surely no concern of the foreigner. germans should be the last people in the world to object to a policy of registration and supervision in this country, and to do them justice the reputable germans would never think of protesting. another essential precaution would be that every alien coming to reside in this country must produce his papers. there is no hardship in this; the honest foreigner never makes any trouble about showing his papers at any time. in every country save great britain everyone has to possess such papers, and there is no reason why he should not produce them when he goes from his own to another country. by a system of papers and registration, the police would be enabled at any moment to lay their hands on doubtful characters, quite apart from spies. it is also to be sincerely hoped that the lord chamberlain's department will request, as the _globe_ has justly demanded, that city financiers who have been accustomed to make use in this country, without the royal licence or the king's permission, of german titles of nobility, will discontinue this practice when they become "naturalised." we should then have fewer pinchbeck "barons" among us than at present. evidence has been accumulating during the past few years, and came to a head with the case of the german consul at sunderland, that naturalisation in the great majority of cases is a perfect farce. the "naturalised" are still "germans at heart." naturalisation is usually adopted either for spying or for business purposes, and to suppose that the mere fact makes a german into anything else is to argue a pitiful ignorance of human nature, and particularly of the german nature. there is in this, of course, no reproach; we should think as little of a german who forsook the cause of his country as of an englishman who turned renegade. the germans are an intensely patriotic people, and we may honour them for it, but we do not want to help them to further exercise their patriotism at our expense. notable changes in the law relating to the naturalisation of aliens were made by the new british nationality and status of aliens act, which came into force on january st, . among the most important of these is the power given to the home secretary to revoke certificates of naturalisation obtained by means of false declarations. the naturalisation act of is now repealed. that act contained no definition of the classes of people who are to be regarded as natural-born british subjects. this omission is rectified in the new act, by which such persons are defined as follows:-- (a) any person born within his majesty's dominions and allegiance; and (b) any person born out of his majesty's dominions whose father was a british subject at the time of that person's birth, and either was born within his majesty's allegiance, or was a person to whom a certificate of naturalisation had been granted; and (c) any person born on board a british ship, whether in foreign territorial waters or not. i regard section (c) as far too sweeping; it seems to imply that even the children of german emigrants born while their parents are travelling, say to america, on board a british vessel become british subjects, even though they may never set foot on british territory during the whole of their lives! in such a case, naturalisation will mean absolutely nothing to the person concerned, while it is conceivable that his claim to be a british subject might involve us in awkward entanglements. a person born on a foreign ship will not be regarded as a british subject merely because the ship was in british territorial waters at the time of the birth. children of british subjects, whether born before or after the passing of the act, will be deemed to have been born within the king's allegiance if born in a place where "by capitulation, grant, usage, sufferance or other lawful means his majesty exercises jurisdiction over british subjects." the qualifications for naturalisation are extended under the new act. section provides that the secretary of state may grant a certificate of naturalisation to any alien who shows (a) that he has resided in his majesty's dominions for a period of not less than five years in the manner required by this section, or been in the service of the crown for not less than five years within the last eight years before the application; and (b) that he is of good character, and has an adequate knowledge of the english language; and (c) that he intends, if his application is granted, either to reside in his majesty's dominions, or to enter or continue in the service of the crown. paragraph (b), which is new, is certainly very valuable and it will be cordially approved. hitherto, in the granting of naturalisation certificates, character and a knowledge of english were entirely disregarded. by means of the new provision we shall be able to shut out from british citizenship a large and exceedingly undesirable class of alien immigrants and render their deportation practicable in case of misbehaviour. in the case of a woman who was a british subject before her marriage to an alien, and whose husband has died, or whose marriage has been dissolved, the requirements of this section as to residence are not to apply, and the secretary of state may, in any other special case, grant a certificate of naturalisation, even though the four years' residence or five years' service has not been within the eight years immediately before the application for naturalisation. the provision as to the women is both humane and just. it will alleviate the hard lot of many englishwomen who married germans before the war, and whose cases under the old act involved much unmerited hardship. section of the act is very noteworthy. it provides that ( ) a person to whom a certificate of naturalisation is granted by a secretary of state shall, subject to the provisions of this act, be entitled to all political and other rights, powers and privileges, and be subject to all obligations, duties and liabilities to which a natural-born british subject is entitled or subject, and, as from the date of his naturalisation, have to all intents and purposes the status of a natural-born british subject. the rd section of the act of settlement, which disqualifies naturalised aliens from holding certain offices, is to have effect as though the word "naturalised" were omitted. this section applies, among other things, to membership of the privy council or either house of parliament, or to "any office or place of trust either civil or military." the power given to the secretary of state to revoke any naturalisation certificate obtained by false representation or fraud is contained in section , which says:-- ( ) where it appears to the secretary of state that a certificate of naturalisation granted by him has been obtained by false representations or fraud, the secretary of state may by order revoke the certificate, and the order of revocation shall have effect from such date as the secretary of state may direct. ( ) where the secretary of state revokes a certificate of naturalisation, he may order the certificate to be given up and cancelled, and any person refusing or neglecting to give up the certificate shall be liable on summary conviction to a fine not exceeding one hundred pounds. this is a very valuable provision, and it is one that, whenever fraud or false representation is detected, should be summarily and rigorously enforced. in the past our practice in the matter of naturalisation has been decidedly too lax; i fear the granting of certificates had become rather too much a matter of form, and possibly statements as to residence, etc., had not been too closely scrutinised. there is thus reason for believing that a good many individuals who are to-day masquerading as "british citizens" would have extreme difficulty in making good their claims to that honour if they were closely pressed for evidence. it is important to remember that under the naturalisation law a naturalised "undesirable alien" cannot be deported in the event of his being convicted of a certain class of offence to which the alien of the lower type is especially prone. these are just the men who most dread deportation, since they are usually well known to the police of their own country, and they are therefore most likely to resort to fraudulent means to secure the protection afforded by naturalisation here. when such individuals fall into the hands of the police in future, we may be sure that their papers will be scrutinised with special care, and should any evidence of fraud be detected we shall be able to strip them of their too easily obtained british nationality, and relieve ourselves of their presence. the taking out of naturalisation papers is one of the natural weapons of the spy, and by the circumstances of his case he is very frequently compelled to resort to devious means to secure his papers. under the new law it will be easier when he is detected to treat him as an enemy subject, since inquiry of a close character will be likely, if not practically certain, to reveal the deception of which he has been guilty. it is to be hoped on every ground that the new law will be rigorously enforced. i hold very strongly--and recent cases have justified my belief--that the _naturalised alien_ is among our most dangerous enemies. for this reason, if for no other, the acquisition of british nationality should be made as difficult as possible in order to protect our country against hordes of subjects whom we do not want and who, if the truth were told, would be found to have but the most shadowy claim to the honour they seek. but, as the _globe_ has well described it, the act is, at best, only a piece of belated legislation. it is to be regretted that the government could not have seen their way to issue a proclamation postponing its operation, so that parliament could have some further opportunity of discussing it before it is treated as settling the extremely difficult and complicated questions which are inherent in the subject, questions which have gained a new meaning in the last few months. it would be satisfactory, for instance, to investigate the very curious problems raised by the third section. under this, certain disqualifications which the act of settlement imposed upon naturalised aliens are again made inoperative except as against aliens. under the act of settlement naturalised aliens were prohibited from becoming members of the privy council, or of either house of parliament, and from holding any office or place of trust, "either civil or military." it is notorious that naturalised aliens have sat on both sides of the house of commons, _are actually members of the privy council_, and have occupied places of the most intimate trust in civil and military affairs. it is surely time we reverted to the older methods. no naturalised alien should be appointed a privy councillor. the whole act is therefore belated and incomplete. it does not, so far as one can understand it, provide for the one thing really necessary--that the individual seeking naturalisation in this country should divest himself altogether of any allegiance to the sovereignty under which he was born. whether he can do so, or not, is his affair. germany, by her new citizenship law, as the journal quoted has pointed out, has devised methods obviously designed to disguise the real nature of the act of a german on seeking naturalisation in a foreign country. against such attempts to deceive the nation of which a german, for his own ends, seeks to become a member, it may be difficult to continue effective measures, but at any rate we should make the attempt. naturalisation is primarily a favour granted to the alien, and is only in very rare and exceptional cases an advantage to the state which grants it. therefore it ought to be hedged about with such restrictions as will make it as certain as any laws can do, that the individual seeking it divests himself of all his former allegiance. it is perfectly certain, as the journal before mentioned has remarked, that there are in this country to-day many naturalised germans who, if they had not taken out letters of naturalisation (which are in effect letters of mark), would now be interned in some concentration camp. they are chartered enemies, who can be compared to none so justly as those german spies at the front who penetrate the allies' lines by wearing british uniforms. the french government have, unlike our own, been quick to see the danger that exists, and to cope with it. a bill has been introduced into the french parliament empowering the government to withdraw naturalisation from persons who preserve their original nationality, or who, by reason of their attitude to the enemies of france, are judged unworthy of french nationality. the stock exchange has taken similar action. british citizenship is a privilege which in no case ought to be lightly conferred, and assuredly it should never be relieved from the obligations which properly accompany its great advantages. no man can serve two masters, at any rate when they are at war with one another; and, to be just to the germans, they have not even tried. we know that the german espionage organisation in england was set up some time about the year , so that there has been plenty of time for the german general staff to get together quite a number of agents who, under our present system, fulfil all the demands of our naturalisation laws. we must make this more difficult in the future, remembering that the naturalised german is at least as much an object of suspicion as his non-naturalised brother. residence of aliens, whether naturalised or not, in the immediate vicinity of our dockyards, naval bases, and important strategical positions should be stopped, once and for all. we know how in many recent cases the activities of the german agent have been concentrated upon these points, where the most valuable information is often to be picked up, and if we are indeed to make an end of spies, this closing of certain areas to aliens is one of the first and most important steps to take.[ ] i have just heard of a case in one of our most important garrison towns, where, for years past, a shop overlooking the barracks has been in german occupation without apparently any business whatever being done; the stock was practically allowed to rot in the windows, and certainly the volume of trade was not enough to pay the rent. we can form our own conclusions as to the real object of such establishments. not very long ago captain persius, the well-known german naval expert, described, with his tongue in his cheek, the ease with which he was able to get information at certain british dockyards, and we know that many foreign visitors have been allowed practically free access to many of our battleships and to the naval ports. the case of the undergraduates who posed as foreign princes and were shown over one of our dreadnoughts will be well remembered. all this kind of thing must certainly be put an end to in the future. the question of wireless is also another matter to which we shall have to give considerable attention. it is very much a question whether we should not, in future, adopt some stricter system of compulsory registration of all wireless plant sold and worked in this country. we all hope, of course, that after the present war we shall see a long period of undisturbed peace, but not even that assurance ought to be allowed to blind us to future danger, any more than the belief that a german invasion of great britain is an impossibility should cause us to relax, for an instant, our preparations to meet it should it come. wireless is likely to play a growing part in our world communications, and the tremendous possibilities which attend its unauthorised use have to be reckoned with. i confess that i should have hesitated to introduce even into a novel such an incident as a german officer attempting to escape from this country packed up in a large box. yet such a case has just been reported; the man was detected and arrested by no more than a lucky accident just as the case was about to be placed on board the liner which was to convey it to rotterdam. examination of the case showed how carefully the plans for the escape had been made, and certainly there is a very strong suggestion that the affair could not have been undertaken without active assistance from persons outside the prison from which the officer had escaped. and those persons were spies. it was stated, i see, that the man is believed to have been trying to get over to germany with important information, and in all probability this is true; it is not at all likely that anyone would have adopted such a desperate expedient merely to escape from custody. the incident, in its practical bearings, is not of great importance, since it is not a plan likely to be adopted except by someone who was absolutely desperate, and obviously we cannot examine every packing case shipped abroad, even in war time. for us the importance of the incident lies in the light it throws upon the skill and resource of the german secret agents, and the need for straining every nerve to cope with their activity. one cannot but admire the courage and resource of a man who was ready to take the risks involved in this particularly daring adventure. whatever system we decide to adopt to protect ourselves against espionage in the future, there is no question that the entire matter ought to be in the hands of one central authority, with very wide powers of inquiry and action. we must put an end once and for all to the idiotic--no other word is strong enough--position in which mr. mckenna is able to say that outside london the spy-peril is no concern of his, and that he has no power of action. whether we complete and extend the operations of the confidential department, or whether some new organisation is brought into being, the matter of espionage for the country as a whole _ought to be centralised in the hands of a single authority_. i know certain people are likely to raise a grumble that the cost will be considerable. supposing it is? no one suggests that we should spend, as germany has been spending, £ , a year on spying on our neighbours; all that we need to do is to establish a complete system of contra-espionage, and look after the people who want to spy on us. in doing this, surely the expenditure of a few thousands a year would be money well invested. in france a system has been adopted--too late, unfortunately, so far as the present war is concerned--by which the public are invited to co-operate in the work of checking the activities of the spies, by giving to the proper authority information of any suspicious cases coming to their notice. my view is that a somewhat similar procedure should be adopted here. in this way public opinion would be educated up to the importance of the subject, and a great deal of valuable information would be acquired. it is certain, of course, that much of this information would be valueless, but it would be the duty of the special department to separate the chaff from the wheat, and to see that every suspicious case was duly inquired into. apart from anything else, this action by the public would, in itself, give the spies to pause, for they would realise how much more difficult it would be for them to carry on their nefarious work undetected. i come now to perhaps the most unpleasant feature of the spy problem--the possibility of our betrayal by traitors in our own ranks. i am proud to think that, in this respect, we are perhaps better off than any nation under the sun, but at the same time, there have been, in recent years, one or two proved cases, and, as i have already said, a good many where grounds existed for very grave suspicion. however mortifying it may be to our national pride, we cannot overlook the possibility of our secrets being sold to the enemy by men of our own blood. in this connection, i cannot do better than quote an instructive passage from paul lenoir's masterly book on "the german spy system in france," one of the most complete and fascinating exposures of german machinations that has ever been written, and a veritable mine of information on german aims and methods. lenoir relates how, on one occasion, he had a long conversation with a very distinguished member of the german spy administration who had expressed the wish to meet him. in the course of their conversation, the german said:-- "ah! if only you knew how many of your politicians who shout and declaim in france demanding the suppression of _your_ secret service funds--if you only knew how many of those men are drawing thumping good salaries out of _our_ secret service funds; if only you knew what proportion of their election expenses is paid by us every four years!" i do not suppose for a moment that we have in england anything of this kind; the class of men who secure election to the house of commons is no doubt above temptation. i, however, mention this instance, revealed be it remembered by a frenchman working hard in his country's cause, to show how very far the german espionage bureau is prepared to go to seduce men from their natural allegiance, and convert them into the most dangerous enemies of their country. and, with regret i confess it, we have to face the fact that even in our own services there are some whose honour is not proof against the lavish stream of german gold. how to detect and defeat them is indeed a difficult problem; all we can say is that in this, as in other matters, eternal vigilance is the price of liberty. but at least we can say that when they are caught these men ought to be made to pay a terrible price for their treachery, as an example and a deterrent to others. there must be no illegal sentences of death, as in the ahlers case. there must be no paltering with this blackest of crimes, and no concession to the sentimentalists of the cocoa-press. in conclusion, i appeal to my readers to believe that i do feel, after many years' study of this subject, that in german espionage lies one of the greatest dangers our beloved country has to face. i earnestly appeal to them to do all in their power to assist in forming a vigorous public opinion, that shall insist that, at whatever cost, this canker in our public life shall be rooted out. we must--and we can, if we devote our attention to it--make an end to the spy in our midst, and make it impossible that our hospitality shall be abused by those who are plotting our downfall. to do this a strong and healthy public opinion, which shall drive supine officials to determined action, is the first and greatest requisite. without that--and it is the purpose of this book to assist in rousing it--we shall drift back into the old rut of contemptuous and incredulous neglect, and it is more than probable that our last state will be worse than our first. we can rest assured that germany will never willingly give up the system that has paid her such enormous profits; it is for us to meet craft with craft, to smash her spy organisation, to show her that we are determined that we will put an end to an insidious form of attack which in time of peace--whatever we may think of espionage in time of war--is nothing short of moral and political corruption in its worst and most hideous form. another point which has apparently been overlooked by the public is the fact that as recently as january th the united states embassy, acting for germany and austria, announced the astounding fact that german men over , austrian men over , with all those physically unfit for military service, as well as all women of both countries, _may leave great britain and return to the land of their birth_! the ambassador stated that anyone wishing to do so should apply to the home office (permits department) for the necessary permission; and, further, that the austro-hungarian government were organising personally-conducted parties to vienna and budapest! now, it is to be sincerely hoped that the home office (permits department) will not consider any man who has a weak heart, a faulty leg, or bad teeth, or is over , incapable of acts of espionage. further, as alien women have been allowed to move freely about the country, and as our confidential department knows that the enemy has already made good use of the fair sex as spies, is it really too much to expect that the permits department will--if aliens are allowed to leave at all--grant the necessary passes with a very sparing hand, and submit to severe examination anyone desirous of joining these personally-conducted parties which sound so delightfully alluring? but to the man-in-the-street this official announcement of the united states embassy, especially after the prosecution of mr. ahlers, must cause considerable dismay. are we to allow these enemy aliens who have been among us ever since the outbreak of war to return, and carry with them all the information they have been able to gather? surely this is a most important point to which public attention should at once be directed! if the home office are actually about to issue permits to enemy aliens to return home, then why bother any further about espionage? we may just as well accept mr. mckenna's assurances, close our eyes, and fold our arms. further, with the illuminating discussion in the house of lords on january th, , the briton--as apart from the politician, or the supporter of the cocoa-press--surely cannot be satisfied. the government spokesmen told us that we still had among us no fewer than , germans and austrians at liberty, and of this number , were living in prohibited areas--an increase of since november th! the lack of organisation for dealing with these aliens is the most deplorable feature of the administration. there are three separate authorities. the navy, military and police all act according to their own interpretations of the defence of the realm act, and when one or other takes drastic steps for the removal of alien enemies, somebody who stands in the background reverses the process. a truly amazing state of affairs. the splendid efforts of the earl of portsmouth, the earl of crawford, lord leith of fyvie, viscount st. aldwyn, lord st. davids, the earl of selborne, viscount galway and lord curzon made in the house of lords seem, alas! to be of no avail, for, while on november th mr. mckenna gave details showing the distribution of male alien enemies, the latest figures supplied in the house of lords on january th by viscount allendale show:-- nov. th jan. th aberdeen to berwick northumberland to the wash the wash to thames estuary thames estuary to dorsetshire } devonport to plymouth } ____ ____ total our authorities have actually admitted that from november th to january th, more alien enemies have gone to live on the east coast of scotland and on the south coast of england! and mr. mckenna has permitted them to do so! surely by the official assurances of safety an attempt has been made to lull us to sleep--and we are now being slowly lulled into the hands of the enemy! in these same areas were , women alien enemies on november th, as compared with , at the present time. the figures show that there has been a decrease of in the neighbourhood of the yorkshire raid. but there has been an increase of on the south coast, and of on the east coast of scotland. under whose authority, one may surely ask, have alien enemies been permitted to settle on the scotch and south coasts? with these , alien enemies free to move five miles in each direction from any area in which they may be living, and power to make longer journeys if they can get a permit--not a very difficult thing to do--the home office is adding to the danger by encouraging a movement for the release of some of the , alien enemies interned originally because they were held to be dangerous. the chief constables who are being asked to certify such as might be released, may, i quite think with the _evening news_, be pardoned for giving a liberal interpretation of the request. surely every sane man must agree with the opinion expressed by the same outspoken journal, namely, that with some , germans and austrians, registered and naturalised, moving freely in our midst, a government which permits that freedom is taking risks which it ought not to take. the german government, in their wisdom, are not guilty of such folly. every british subject, even those who have lived there for forty years, and can hardly speak their mother-tongue, is interned. why, if a naturalised german is known to be an enemy of the country of his adoption--be he waiter or financier--should any tenderness be displayed towards him? he is an enemy, and whatever lord haldane or mr. mckenna may say, he must be treated as such. i write only as an englishman fighting for his own land. i repeat that i have no party politics, but only the stern resolve that _we must win this war_, and that all who lean to the enemy in any manner whatever must go, and be swept with their fine houses, their wives and their social surroundings into oblivion. to-day we, as britons, are fighting for our existence. to give our alien enemies a chance of espionage is a criminal act. sir henry dalziel advocates the constitution of an aliens board to deal with the whole subject. he evidently has no faith in the present indecision, for he has expressed himself in favour of moving all alien enemies fifty miles from the coast. the flabby policy of indecision is, one must agree, a mistake. no one wants to embarrass the government, who in so many ways have done admirably, but, in the face of the serious dangers which must arise from the presence of , alien enemies within our gates at this moment, even implicit confidence must not stand in the way of a stern and effective national defence. and the removal of the spy danger is, i maintain, eminently a matter of national defence. it is for the public to make a stern and unmistakable demand. * * * * * the following lines, from an anonymous pen, appeared on december th in the _evening news_, which has performed a patriotic work in pointing out the peril of spies, and demanding that they should be interned. though amusing, the words really contain a good deal of truth:-- _"will you walk into my parlour?" said the kaiser to the spy, "for i've lots of work to give you, and the pay is very high, and you've only got to send me a report from day to day, all about the english people, and the things they do and say._ _"there is fritz and franz and josef, though their names you may not know, you may write to them and see them, but as 'number so-and-so,' and should you meet your brother or your mother at the game, you are not to recognise them; they're numbers just the same._ _"you will travel through the country in the name of henry jones, or as donald p. mcscotty, selling artificial stones; you will rent a modest dwelling in the shadow of a base, and when nobody is looking you will photograph the place._ * * * * * _"then 'hoch' unto your kaiser, 'am tag' your daily cry, god bless our krupps and zeppelins, the victory is nigh. god bless our shells! and dum-dums! kultur shall fight her way; god, emperor, and fatherland in one almighty sway."_ footnotes: [footnote : thirty miles inland: military orders to east coast aliens.--notices to quit coastal towns adjoining the tyneside district were yesterday served by the police on behalf of the military authorities upon persons regarded as undesirable residents. the people affected include enemy aliens and naturalised aliens of both sexes, also british-born descendants of aliens, including even the second generation. exceptions have been made in cases of advanced age and extreme youthfulness. new addresses must be approved by the military. notices were also served on german residents in sunderland to leave the town and district and move into an area approved by the military authorities. the order applies to men, women, and children, whether naturalised or not, and must be obeyed within eight days. the approved area will be some inland place about thirty miles from the coast.--_daily mail_, december th, .] the end printed by w. mate & sons, ltd., bournemouth. whig against tory: or, the military adventures of a shoemaker. a tale of the revolution. for children. . contents. introduction chap. i. gen p. tells about the early life of enoch crosby. chap. ii. gen. p. tells about the war, and how crosby enlisted as a soldier for one campaign. chap. iii. gen. p. tells how crosby again enlisted as a soldier, and of his singular adventures. chap. iv. gen. p. tells how crosby enlisted in the service of the committee of safety, and how he was taken prisoner. chap. v. gen. p. tells about how crosby's visit to a mountain cave-- how he was again taken prisoner--and the manner in which he escaped. chap. vii. gen. p. tells about the farther adventures of crosby--how he was obliged to show his secret pass--how he resided at a dutchman's--how afterwards he was cruelly beaten and wounded.-- conclusion. introduction. "will you tell me a story this evening, father?" asked william p., a fine lad of twelve years of age, the son of general p., who had been a gallant officer in the revolutionary war. "and what story shall i tell you, my son?" said the general. "something about the war, father." "you are always for hearing about the war, william," said general p. "i have told you almost all the stories i recollect. and besides, william, if you love to hear about war so well, when you are young, you will wish to be a soldier, when you become a man." "and would you not wish to have me a soldier, father, if war should come?--you was once a soldier, and i have heard people say, that you was very brave, and fought like a hero!" "well, well, william," said the general, "i must tell you one story more. where are henry and john? you may call them--they will like to hear the story too." (_enter william, henry and john_.) _henry_. "father! william says you are going to tell us a story about the war! what----" [illustration] _john_. "shall you tell us about some battle, where you fought?" _gen. p_. "sit down, my children, sit down. did i ever tell you about _enoch crosby_?" _william_. "_enoch crosby_? why, i never heard of such a man." _henry_. "nor did i." _gen. p_. "i suppose not; but he was a brave man, and did that for his country, which is worthy to be told." _john_. "was he a general, father?" _gen. p_. "no; he was a _spy_." _william_. "a spy! a spy! father, i thought a spy was an odious character?" _gen. p_. "well, a real spy is generally so considered. i think it would be more appropriate to say, that he was an _informer_. during the war, many americans were employed to obtain information about the enemy. they were often soldiers, and received pay, as did the soldiers, and sometimes obtained information, which was very important, especially about the _tories_, or such americans as favoured the british cause." _henry_. "is that the meaning of the word tory?" _gen. p_. "yes; tories were americans, who wished that the british aims might succeed, and the king of england might still be king of the colonies. those who wished differently, and who fought against the british, were called _whigs_." _john_. "was crosby a whig?" _gen. p_. "yes; no man could be more devoted to the liberty of his country." _william_. "whence were the names whig and tory derived?" _gen. p_. "do you wish to know the _original meaning_ of the words, my son?" _william_. "yes, sir." _gen. p_. "the word _tory_, the learned webster says, was derived from the irish, in which language it signifies a _robber. tor_, in that language, means a _bush_; and hence _tory_, a robber, or bushman; because robbers often secrete themselves in the bushes. the meaning of the word _whig_, i am unable to tell you. its origin is uncertain. it was applied, as i told you, to those who fought for the liberty of america." _william_. "if the word tory means a robber, it was very properly applied to those, who wished to _rob_ the people of america of their rights--don't you think so, father?" _gen. p_. "exactly so, william--a very just remark." _john_. "father! i thought you was going to tell about enoch crosby?--" _gen. p_. "true, master john, we will begin." chapter i. gen. p. tells about the early life of enoch crosby. _gen. p_. "enoch crosby was born in massachusetts, in . when he was only three years old, his father took him, and the rest of his family, into the state of new-york to live. he was a farmer, and had bought a farm in southeast, a town which borders on the state of connecticut. "southeast is a wild, rough, and romantic place. its hills are high and steep. several cataracts tumble over precipices, and fall upon the ear with deafening noise. two rivers, called the croton and the mill river, wind through the place. several large ponds enrich the scenery. "in this rude, but yet delightful country, enoch crosby lived, till he was sixteen years old. he was a strong and active boy. he could climb the highest hills without fatigue, and walk on the brink of frightful precipices without fear. his playmates admired him for his courage. he always took the lead because they wished it--they loved him, because he was generous and noble. "when enoch was, sixteen years of age, misfortune came upon his father. the family had lived comfortably. they were prosperous farmers--but _now_, a blast came--i know not the cause--but it came, and they were poor. "enoch's father decided that his son must learn a trade. it was no hardship for him to work--this he had been accustomed to. in those times, people laboured harder than now-a-days. industry was a virtue-- idleness a shame. and it was hard labour, and solid fare, that made the men of those times so much stronger, than those of the present generation. "enoch loved labour, and was willing to learn a trade. but it was hard parting with friends, when the day arrived, that he was to go from home. it was settled that he should be a _shoemaker_, and should learn the trade of a man in a neighbouring town. "the morning, at length, came, when he was to go. his bundle of clothes was nicely put up by his mother; and his father added a few shillings to his pocket--and then came the blessing of his worthy parents, with their good advice, that he should behave well, and attend to the duties of his place. "and, said his tender mother--a tear starting from her eye, which she wiped away with the corner of her lindsey-woolsey, while she spake-- 'your _bible_, enoch, you will find in your bundle--don't forget _that_--and you must pray for us--my son--' "she could say no more--and enoch could hear no more. without even bidding them 'farewell'--for his heart was too full for that--he shouldered his little pack, and took his way down the lane, which led to the road he was to take. "at a few rods distance, he stopped to take one more look of the old place, so dear to him. his mother was standing at the window. she had felt the full tenderness of a mother for him before--but his love of home--his pause--his gaze--his tears--now almost overwhelmed her. [illustration] "enoch caught a glimpse of his mother, and saw her agony. he could trust himself no longer--and summoning his energies, hurried over the hills, which soon hid the scenes of his youth from his view. "in after years--many years after--even when he became an old man, he would speak of this scene, with deep feeling. he could never forget it. he said he felt for a time alone in the world--cut off from all he held dear. i do not wonder," said gen. p. "that he felt much, for well do _i_ remember the pain i felt, _the first time leaving home_." chapter ii. gen. p. tells about the war, and how enoch crosby enlisted as a soldier for one campaign. _gen. p_. "before night, enoch reached his new home. his countenance had somewhat brightened; yet his heart felt sad, for some days. "on the following morning, his master introduced him into the shop. he had a seat assigned him provided with awls, thread, wax, and the more solid, but equally needful companion, a _lapstone_. "enoch proved a good apprentice. at first, the confinement was irksome. he had been used to the open air--to the active exercise of the field--to the free, healthful breeze of the mountain. it was tiresome to sit all day, in a confined shop. but he made himself contented, and, in a little time, found his employment quite pleasant." _john_. "didn't he want to see his mother?" _gen. p_. "doubtless he did. he would not be likely to forget her; and i hope he did not neglect her good advice. and, when permission was given him, he went home to visit his friends, and always with delight. "in , the apprenticeship of enoch ended. he was now twenty-one years old--a man grown--industrious--honest--and ready to begin business for himself. "old mr. crosby was a strong whig--a man of reading and information-- one who took a deep interest in the welfare of his country. "about the time that enoch first left home to learn his trade, the troubles of america began with england. the king and his ministers became jealous of the americans. they thought them growing too fast-- 'they will soon,' said they, 'become proud, and wish to be free and independent--we must tax them--we must take away their money. this will keep them poor and humble.' "those things used often to be talked over, at old mr. crosby's. the neighbours would sometimes happen in there of a winter's evening to spend an hour, or two--the minister--the schoolmaster--and others--and although southeast was a retired place, the conduct of the 'mother country,' as england was called, was pretty well understood there, and justly censured. "old mr. crosby, especially, condemned the conduct of england. he said, for one, he did not wish to be trampled on. 'they have no right to tax us,' said he,--'it is unjust--it is cruel--and, for myself, i am ready to say, i will not submit to it. and, mark my word, the time will come, when the people will defend themselves, and when that time comes, i hope,' said he--looking round upon his sons, especially upon enoch--'i hope my boys will not shame their father--no, not they.' "enoch thought much of his father. he was a grave man--one who sat steady in his chair when he talked--and talked so slowly, and so emphatic, as always to be heard. enoch, though a boy, listened--he was _then_ interested--and as he grew older and was at home occasionally, on a visit, and these subjects were discussed--he took a still deeper interest, and would sometimes even mingle in the animated talk, round the fire side of his father. "and, then, there were times, too, when he was seated on his bench, thinking over what he had heard; or sat listening to some customer of his master, who happened in, on a rainy day--and who had seen the last paper which gave an account of some new attempt to oppress the colonies--at such times, he would almost wish himself a soldier, and in the field fighting for his country. and then the hammer, it was observed, would come down upon his lapstone with double force, as if he were splitting the head of one of the enemy open, or his awl would go through the leather, as if he were plunging a bayonet into the belt of a soldier." [illustration] "such were the workings of enoch crosby's mind--the work of preparation was going on there--the steam was gradually rising--and though he realized it not--he was fitting to become a zealous and active soldier, in his country's service. "on the th of march, , nearly a year before enoch's time was out, the 'boston massacre' happened." _henry_. "the 'boston massacre!' father--pray, what was that?" _gen. p_. "william! you know the story, i trust--can you tell it to your brother?" _william_. "i have read about it; but i don't know well how to tell it. will you tell it, father?" _gen. p_. "tell it as well as you are able, my son. it is by practice that we learn to do things well." _william_. "one evening some british soldiers were near a ropewalk in boston. a man, who worked in the ropewalk, said something to them which they did not like, and they beat him. "three days after, on the th of march, while the soldiers were under arms, some of them were insulted by the citizens, and one, it is said, was struck. this soldier was so angry, that he fired. then, six others fired. three citizens were killed, and five were wounded. "all boston was soon roused. the bells were rung. many thousand people assembled, and they said that they would tear the soldiers to pieces, and i don't know but that they would have done so, if gov. hutchinson had not come out, and told the people, that he would inquire into the matter, and have the guilty punished. this pacified them." _gen. p_. "well done--quite well done, master william. you now know, henry, what is meant by the 'boston massacre.'" _henry_. "it was a bloody affair, i think." _gen. p_. "bloody indeed!--inhuman and highly provoking. the news of it spread--spread rapidly, in every direction. the country was filled with alarm. war was seen to be almost certain; such an insult--such a crime could not be forgotten. even at phillipstown, where crosby was at his trade, the story was told. it roused _his_ spirit. he thought of what his father had said. and he was even now desirous to enlist as a soldier, to avenge the slaughtered americans. "the next year--in january, i think it was--enoch's time being out, he left his master, and went to live at danbury, connecticut, where he worked at his trade, as a journeyman, and here he continued for several years. "during this time, the difficulties between england and america increased. the king and his ministers grew more haughty and oppressive. the americans waxed more firm and confident. several events tended to make the breach wider and wider. the british parliament taxed the americans--next the people of boston threw into the sea a large quantity of tea, belonging to people in england, because a tax was laid upon it. then, by way of revenge for this, the parliament ordered that no vessel should enter boston harbour, or leave it. and, finally, the king sent a large body of english soldiers to america, to watch the people here, and force them to submission. "things now became quite unsettled. the americans felt injured--they were provoked--nothing was before them but war or slavery. this latter they could not bear. they scorned to be slaves. besides, they saw no reason why they should be slaves. they knew war was a great evil. but it was better than slavery. and now they began to talk about it; and to act in view of it. in almost every town--especially in new england--the young men were enrolled; that is, were formed into companies, and were daily exercised, in order to make them good soldiers. these were called '_minute men_'." _henry_. "why were they called '_minute men_,' father?" _gen. p_. "because they stood ready to march at a _minutes_ warning, should occasion require." _john_. "was enoch crosby a minute man?" _gen. p_. "no; he was not; but he stood ready to enlist, at any time when his services were needed. "we will now pass on to the year . in april of that year occurred the famous battle of lexington. a party of british troops had been sent from boston, to destroy some military stores, belonging to the americans, at concord, north of boston. on their way thither, they came to lexington; and here they fired upon a small company of americans, and killed several. "it was a cruel act--worthy only of savages. but it roused the americans in that part of the country; and they immediately sent expresses--that is, men on horseback--to carry the tidings abroad. "one of these expresses was directed to take his course for danbury, and to speed his flight. on his arrival, he told the story. "it produced alarm--and well it might; but it also produced resolution. the bells were rung--cannon were fired--drums beat to arms. within a few hours, many people had assembled--the young and the old--all eager to do something for their country. one hundred and fifty young men came forward, and entered their names as soldiers-- chose a captain benedict to lead them--and begged that they might go forth to the war. enoch crosby was _the first man_ that entered his name on this occasion. "not long after, the regiment to which crosby belonged marched to the city of new-york. here they were joined by other companies, and sailed up hudson's river to assist in taking canada from the british. "a short time before this, ticonderoga, a fortress on lake champlain, had been surprised by col. ethan allen and his troops, and to them it had surrendered. this was an important post. great rejoicings took place among the americans, when it was known that this fort had fallen into their hands. "the troop to which crosby was attached, passed this fort, and proceeded to st. johns, a british fort miles north of ticonderoga. "this fort it was determined to attack. the troops were therefore landed, and preparations were made. their number was one thousand--all young men,--brave--ardent--resolute. "being formed in order of battle, the intrepid officers led them to the attack. as they advanced, the guns of the fort poured in upon them a tremendous fire. this they met manfully, and, though some fell, the others seemed the more determined. but, just as they were beginning the attack in good earnest, a concealed body of indians rose upon them, and the appalling war whoop broke upon their ears." [illustration] "this savage yell they had never before heard--such a sight they had never before witnessed. for a moment, alarm spread through the ranks. but courage--action was now necessary. death or victory was before them. the officers called them to rally--to stand their ground--and they did so. they opened a well directed fire upon their savage foes, and only a short time passed before the latter were glad to retreat. "the savages having retired, the men were ordered to throw up a breast work, near the place, to shelter themselves from the guns of the fort. this was done expeditiously. trees were felled, and drawn to the spot by some; while others were employed in throwing up earth. "during these labours of the americans, the enemy continued to annoy them, by throwing shells from the fort." _william_. "pray, father, what are shells? i have read of them; but i do not know more than that they are a kind of shot." _gen. p_. "shells are often called _bombs_, a word which signifies _great noise_; because, when they burst, they make a great noise. they consist of a large shell of cast iron, which is round and hollow. a hole is made through the shell to receive a _fusee_, as it is called; this is a small pipe, or hollow piece of wood, which is filled with some combustible matter. when a bomb is about to be fired, it is filled with powder, after which the fusee is driven into the vent, or hole of the shell." _william_. "how are bombs fired, father?" _gen. p_. "they are thrown from a kind of cannon called a _mortar_. it has its name from its resemblance to a common mortar. the lower part of the mortar is called the _chamber_, which contains the powder. when fired, the powder in the chamber not only sends the bomb, but at the same time, sets fire to the fusee, which continues to burn slowly, as it passes through the air, and the calculation always is, to have the fire from the fusee reach the powder in the shell, _at the moment the latter reaches the ground_. it then bursts, and the scattering fragments of iron often do horrible execution." _william_. "did you say, father, that mortars were _short_ guns?" _gen. p_. "land mortars are quite short; sea mortars, or such as are used on board vessels, are longer and heavier, because they are usually fired at greater distances. a land mortar, which will throw a shell thirteen inches in diameter, weighs thirteen hundred weight; the weight of the shell is about one hundred and seventy-five pounds; it contains between nine and ten pounds of powder; and is fired by means of about the same quantity of powder." _william_. "pray, father, who invented bombs?" _gen. p_. "the inventor is not known; they have been in use since the year . "some years after the above affair, crosby himself related the manner in which the soldiers contrived to escape unhurt. when a shell rose in the air, every one would stop working, and watch its course, to ascertain whether it would fall near him. if it appeared to approach so near, as to endanger any one, he would dodge behind something, till it had burst, or passed by." _john_. "father, could a soldier dodge a cannon ball?" _henry_. "why, john! i should think you knew enough, not to ask so foolish a question." _gen. p_. "not so bad a question neither, master henry; under some circumstances, a cannon ball might he avoided." _william_. "not when it is first fired, father." _gen. p_. "true; but when it has nearly spent its force, a person might easily get out of its way. but even when a ball only rolls along the ground, apparently slow, it would be dangerous to attempt to stop it: especially if large. i recollect to have read of a soldier, who saw a ball rolling towards him, which he thought to stop with his foot; but, poor fellow! it broke his leg in an instant. "some of the american soldiers at st. johns, were too intent upon their labour, to pay much attention to the shells. crosby was one. all on a sudden, a fellow-soldier near by called out in a tone of thunder, 'crosby! look out! take care! take care!' crosby looked up, and directly over him, a shell was descending." [illustration] "he had but a minute to think--he dropped flat upon the ground, and the shell just passed over him. 'a miss,' thought he, 'is as good as a mile;' but he said, after _such a warning_, he kept one eye upon the enemy. "the rude fortification was soon completed, and served as a shelter till night, when the american troops silently departed. taking to their boats, the next day they reached the _isle aux noix_?" _william_. "is not that a french name?" _gen. p_. "yes; my son--a name given to the island, while the french had possession of it. do you know where it lies?" _william_. "it is a small island, near the northern extremity of lake champlain." _gen. p_. "right. it is pronounced _eel-o-nwar_; and signifies the _island of nuts_." _john_, "did the people find walnuts there, father?" _gen. p_. "some kind of nuts doubtless, my son; but whether walnuts, or hazel nuts, or some other kind, i am unable to say." _henry_. "pray, john, don't ask so many foolish questions, i want to hear the story." _gen. p_. "but you would wish your brother to know the _reason_ of things, would you not, master henry? it was quite a proper question, and one it seems none of us can answer. we must examine the point some time, and let master john know. "the american troops had not been long a this island, before many of them were taken sick and sent to the hospital. crosby was of the number. but he had no idea of confinement. in a few days, he resolved to join the army again. to this the surgeon remonstrated. it might be his death he said; but the valiant soldier could not be persuaded, and again appeared at camp. "'what!' exclaimed capt. benedict, when he saw him, 'have you got back, crosby? i never expected to see you again. you look too ill to be here. you would make a better _scare-crow_ than soldier, i fancy, just now.' "'well, captain! said crosby, 'if i'm a scare-crow, i can _frighten_ the enemy, if i cannot _fight_ them--so i shall be of some service.'" _john_. "well, father, did they hang up crosby for a scare-crow?" _henry_. "why, you simpleton, john, don't you know better?" _gen. p_. "crosby was quite ill, but his resolution made him forget how feeble he was. he was a scare-crow to the enemy in a different way from that which capt. benedict meant. a battle soon came on, and before night enoch crosby was marching into the enemy's fort to the tune of yankee doodle, to assist in taking care of the prisoners." _john_. "but, i thought he was too ill to fight." _gen. p_. "a soldier, at such a time, and such a soldier as crosby, would be likely to forget his weakness. he went bravely through the day; and from that time rapidly regained his health. "success now followed the american troops, and in november, montreal was taken. "the time, for which crosby had enlisted, had now expired, and he concluded to return home. accordingly, he embarked with several others, in a small schooner, for crown point, twelve miles north of ticonderoga. thence they came by land to this latter place; from which they proceeded home ward for some distance by water, and then by land. their rout lay through a wilderness. it was now winter, and the cold was intense. provisions were scarce. comfortable lodgings were not to be found. their prospects were often gloomy, and their distress indescribable. "at length, however, they reached their respective homes. after a short stay with his friends, crosby once more returned to danbury, and again betook himself to the peaceful occupation of shoemaking." chapter iii. gen. p. tells how crosby again enlisted as a soldier, and of his singular adventures. _gen. p._ "crosby was well contented, for a time, to pursue his occupation. he had seen hard service, in the northern campaign, and needed rest. "during the following summer, however, his patriotic feelings began again to stir within him. the war was going on, with redoubled fury. the british had, in several instances, gained the advantage. the americans needed more soldiers, and it was thought that unless the friends of liberty came forward--promptly came, the british arms might succeed. "it was not in such a man as enoch crosby, to seek ease, or shun danger, in the hour of his country's trial. he saw others making sacrifices--women as well as men--youth as well age--and he scorned to have it said, that he could not make sacrifices, as well as others. his musket was therefore taken down; and fitting on his knapsack, he took up his march towards the head quarters of the american army on the hudson. "in a few days, he reached the _neutral ground_ and"---- _william_. "pray, father, may i interrupt you, to inquire what was meant by the 'neutral ground?" _gen. p_. "i will explain it to you. at this time (sept. ,) the head quarters of the british army were in the city of new york. the american army lay up the hudson, fifty or sixty miles, either at, or near, west point. "between the two armies, therefore, was the county of west chester, the centre of which being occupied by neither, was called the 'neutral ground.' but, in reality, it was far from being a neutral spot." _william_. "why not, father, if neither the british, nor the americans, occupied it?" _gen. p_. "because, my son, it was here that a great number of tories resided--the worst enemies which the americans had to contend with." _henry_. "worse than the british, father?" _gen. p_. "in several respects worse. the tories, in general, were quite as unfriendly to american liberty, as the british themselves. and, besides, living in the country, and being acquainted with it, they could do even more injury than strangers. "many of this description of persons lived on the 'neutral ground;' and, what was worse, they often pretended to be whigs--and passed for such--but in _secret_, did all in their power to injure their country. "crosby, as i told you, had reached a part of this ground, on his way to the american camp. it was just at evening, that he fell in with a stranger, who appeared to be passing in the same direction with himself. "'good evening,' said the stranger--'which way are you travelling?-- below?'" _william_. "which way was that?" _gen. p_. "towards new-york. the british were sometimes called the '_lower party_'--the americans the '_upper party_' because the latter lay north of the former. the stranger meant to ascertain which party crosby was going to join." _henry_. "and did crosby tell him?" _gen. p_. "no: he replied, that he was too much fatigued to go much farther that evening, either above or below; but he believed he should join himself to a bed, could he find one. "'well,' said the stranger, 'listen to me; it will soon be dark--go with me--i live but a short distance from this--you shall be welcome.' "crosby thanked him, and said he would gladly accept his kind invitation. "'allow me to ask,' said the soldier, 'your advice, as to the part which a true friend of his country should take, in these times?' "'do i understand you?' inquired the stranger--his keen eye settling on the steady countenance of crosby--'do you wish to know, which party a real patriot should join?' "'i do,' said crosby. "'well! you look like one to be trusted----' "'i hope i am honest,' replied crosby. "'why,' observed the stranger, 'one mus'n't say much about _oneself_, in these days; but----but----some of my _neighbours_ would advise you to join the _lower_ party.' "'why so?' asked crosby. "'why, friend, they read, that we must submit to the powers that be; and, besides, they think king george is a good friend to america, notwithstanding all that is said against him.' "'could you introduce me to some of your neighbours of this way of thinking?' asked crosby. "'with all my heart,' replied the stranger, 'i understand they are about forming a company to go below, and i presume they would be glad to have you join them.' "'i do not doubt it,' observed crosby. "'well, friend,' said the stranger, 'say nothing--rest yourself to night; and, in the morning, i will put you in the way to join our-- _the_ company.' "by this time, they had reached the stranger's dwelling. it was a farm house, situated a short distance from the main road--retired, but quite neat and comfortable in its appearance. here the soldier was made welcome by the host and his family. after a refreshing supper, crosby excused himself--was soon asleep--and 'slept well.'" _john_. "was that man a tory, father?" _henry_. "why, john, you know he was. it is as clear as day." _gen. p_. "yes, my son, he _was_ a tory--in heart a firm tory--but he intended to be cautious. he intended to ascertain, if possible, which side crosby favoured, before he expressed his own views. but, when crosby asked to be introduced to some of his neighbours, he concluded that if _urged_, he would go below--and after this was more unreserved." _william_. "did crosby tell him that he would go below?" _gen. p_. "no, no, he only asked to be introduced to some of the tories." _henry_. "but did he not do wrong to conceal his opinions?" _gen. p_. "certainly not. a person is not under obligation to tell all about his opinions, to every one. when a man speaks, he should indeed tell that which is true; but he is not bound, unless under certain circumstances, to tell the _whole_ truth. "crosby, i said, slept well. in the morning, a better breakfast than usual graced the farmer's table, and the keen appetite of the soldier, after a good night's rest, did it honour. "when breakfast was over, crosby reminded his host of his last night's promise to introduce him to some of his neighbours thereabouts-- particularly to those, who were about forming a company. "'true,' said the farmer, 'i will accompany you. they will welcome such a soldier-like looking lad as yourself. they like men of bone and muscle.' "in a walk of a few miles, they saw quite a number of the friends of the royal cause. crosby was introduced as one who was desirous of serving his country, and as willing to hear what could be said, in favour of joining their standard. "they had much to say--many arguments to support their way of thinking, and strongly did they urge crosby to go with them. as he was introduced by the farmer, who was known to be a true tory, they talked without disguise--told their plans--spoke of the company which was forming--and particularly of a meeting, which they were to hold a few nights from that time; and now, said they, 'come and join us.' "crosby told them that he should think of their proposition, and rather thought that he should contrive to pay them a visit at the appointed time. "little did they think, what sort of a visit the soldier was planning. "in the course of a couple of days, crosby had gained all the information he wished, and now determined to depart. he told the farmer, therefore, on the morning of the third day, that it was not worth while for him to wait longer--he had a strong wish to join the army, and believed that he should go along. "the farmer said some things, by way of persuading crosby to wait a day or two, when the company would meet, and then he could enlist and go with them. "to this crosby replied, that unexpected delays might occur, and he thought it would be better for him to proceed.--'but,' said he, as he shook hands with the unsuspicious farmer, and bade him farewell, 'i shall doubtless have the pleasure of seeing the company;' and added, 'it is my intention to _join_ them at----.' "'very well, very well!' interrupted the farmer,--his eye brightening at his success, in having, as he thought, made crosby a convert to the royal cause. "'i hope it will be well'--whispered crosby to himself, as he walked down the lane, which led to the road--'i will try to join them; but may be in a manner not so agreeable to them.' "on reaching the road, to avoid the mischief which might come upon him, if he went directly north--he took the road leading to new-york. but from this, soldier like, he soon filed off; and crossing a thicket, shaped his course northerly towards the american camp. "he was soon beyond harm, and now travelled at his ease. he had heard of a mr. young, who lived at a distance, in a direction somewhat different from that which he was taking; and as he was said to be a true whig--he concluded to repair to him, and to concert measures to take the company of tories, at the time of their meeting. "with this resolution he again altered his course, so as to strike the road leading to mr. young's. unexpected difficulties, however, impeded his course--hills, woods, streams, and before he reached the house, it was near midnight. "it so happened, fortunately, that mr. young was still up, although his family had all retired. a light was still burning, and crosby made for the door, which led into the room where mr. young sat. "he gave a gentle rap at the door, which was soon cautiously opened-- _cautiously_, because it was now late--and, in those times, no one knew when he was safe. the light fell on crosby's face, and the searching eye of mr. young followed. "'sir,' said crosby, in haste to make his excuse, 'i understand you are a true friend to your country, and i have important--' "'come in, come in,' said mr. young--the expression of crosby's face carrying more conviction of honesty, than words could do--'come in-- you travel late--' "'i have reason for it,' replied the now animated soldier--' i am told you are a friend to the upper party--i have something to tell you which may be important." "'what is it,' asked mr. young. "'sir,' said crosby--'do you know the character of the people who live around you?' "'i think i do,' said mr. young. "'they are traitors,' said crosby. "'many are--too many,' said mr. young--'but they pass for friends, and it is difficult to discriminate--difficult to bring them to justice.' "'well!' said crosby, 'i have the means of pointing them out. i have been among them--i know them--i know their plans--and--' "'can you give me their names?' eagerly inquired mr. young--at the same time rising from his seat. "'i can do more,' rejoined crosby--and then he went on to relate the interviews which he had had--and about the contemplated meeting of the company, two nights following--'and,' said the soldier, 'if you will assist me, we will _join_ them, as i promised, and make them march to the tune of good old 'yankee doodle,' instead of 'god save the king.' "'with all my heart,' exclaimed mr. young--taking down his hat--'no time is to be lost--the committee of safety are at white plains--they must know it to-night.'" _william_. "'the committee of safety!' father, who were they?" _gen. p_. "your inquiry is well suggested. the committee of safety consisted of men of distinction friendly to the liberties of their country. they were appointed in almost every district throughout the land. it was their business to watch over the interest of the country in their vicinity, to obtain information, and, when necessary, to seize upon suspected persons." _william_. "who were the committee at white plains?" _gen. p_. "the principal man was john jay, who afterwards went ambassador to england. "mr. young and crosby were soon on their way to white plains, which lay but a few miles distant. crosby was not a little fatigued; but his zeal was now all alive, and made him quite forget his weariness. "it was near two o'clock, before they reached the quarters of mr. jay. he was soon summoned, and listened with deep interest to the tale of crosby. it was important intelligence--precisely the information desired, he said; and he promised, at early dawn, to call the committee together, and consult what should be done. "mr. young and crosby now retired to a neighbouring inn. but the door was fastened, and the landlord was fast locked in sleep. they rapped at the door, and called, and, as you say, master henry, when you speak monsieur tonson-- "'and loud indeed were they obliged to bawl, ere they could rouse the torpid lump of clay.' "the door, however, was at length opened, and after receiving a growl from the landlord, and a snarl from the landlady, that their rest should be thus broken--they were shown to a bed room, where both in the same bed soon forgot the toils of the night, in a refreshing sleep. "the committee were together at an early hour, as had been promised. again crosby told over his story--and when he had finished,--'are you willing,' asked the committee, 'to accompany a body of horse to the spot, and attempt to take the traitors?' "'sure i am,' said crosby. 'i gave them encouragement that i would '_join_' them, and well should i like to fulfil such an engagement.' "'you shall have an opportunity,' said the committee. 'hold yourself in readiness, and may success crown the enterprise.' "'at the appointed time, a company of troop well mounted, left white plains; and, under the pilotage of crosby, directed their course towards the spot. in the mean time, the company had assembled, and now, amid the darkness of the night, were arranging their plans----" * * * * * "'what noise is that!' asked one--rising from his seat, and turning his ear towards the quarter whence the sound came. "'nothing, i guess,' said a witty sort of fellow, in one corner of the room, 'but my old horse, taking lessons at the post, before----' "'something more serious, perhaps,' said the farmer, with whom enoch crosby had quartered, 'that yankee!' "'where is he?' asked a dark eyed, keen sighted tory, rising from his seat--'i didn't much like his looks, the other day.' "'something serious abroad!'--exclaimed several at the same time rising--'captain! captain!' "'go to the door,' thundered the captain of the gang--'and reconnoitre'-- "'you are prisoners!' exclaimed a voice which struck a panic through the clan, as the door was opened--'surrender, or you are dead men!' "'by whose authority is this?' asked the captain of the tories, rushing to the door, with his sword drawn, followed by his clan, with their guns uncharged. "'we demand it in the name of the continental congress'--exclaimed he of the whigs. "'we surrender to nothing, but to superior strength,' said the tory captain. 'soldiers! come on.' "'my brave comrades! advance,' exclaimed the leader of the patriots-- 'death or victory--make ready!'-- "'it's of no use to contend,' said the farmer--'not a gun loaded, captain!--we're betrayed!--a blight on that yankee!--' "'take aim!'--uttered the patriot leader. "'hold! hold!' exclaimed the captain of the tories--'it's needless to shed blood--what are your terms?'" [illustration] "'immediate surrender!' replied the commander of the whigs. "'done'--rejoined the leader of the traitors--and now they were marched out, and were tied together in pairs, and were conducted to prison, some miles distant to the tune, of 'rogue's march.'" _william_. "was crosby seen by them?" _gen. p_. "probably not. the darkness of the night would conceal him; and it was needless to expose himself, as their betrayer. he was suspected by some--especially by the farmer--who recollected a significant look which crosby gave him, when he left him." _henry_. "he was justly rewarded, was'n't he, father?" _gen. p_. "justly, indeed!--and all the rest, who were designing to sacrifice their country's liberty and honour." chapter iv. gen. p. tells how crosby enlisted in the service of the committee of safety, and how he was taken prisoner. _gen. p_. "crosby felt quite satisfied with his success; but not more so, than the committee of safety. they sent for him--told him he had done his country real service, and wished to know what his plans were. "'you are going to enlist into the army, are you?' asked mr. jay. "'i am,' replied crosby. 'my country needs my services, and she shall have them.' "'your resolution is honourable,' said mr. jay--'but may you not be of greater service, in another way? we have enemies among us--_secret foes_--who are plotting our ruin. we need information respecting them. we wish for some one, who has prudence and skill--one, who will go round the country--who will find out where these men live--where they meet and form their plans. it is a dangerous service,--but, then, the _reward_.' "'i care not for danger,' said crosby--'my country is dear to me. my life is at her service. sir, i will go--but--but _one thing_ i ask-- _only_ one--if i fall, do justice to my memory. let the world know, that enoch crosby was in _your_ service--in the service of his _country_--and that he fell a martyr to the cause of _liberty_.' "'it shall be done,' said mr. jay--'we pledge it, by our sacred honour.' "'but,' continued he to crosby, 'let no man know your secret--no, not even should you be taken. if you are ever taken by the americans, as belonging to the british, we will help you to escape--but, if you cannot let us know, here is a paper, which in the last extremity, you may show, and it will save you.'" _william._ "what did that paper contain?" _gen. p_. "it was what is called a _pass_--it was signed by the committee of safety; and ordered, that the person who had it should be suffered to pass without injury. "in a few days, crosby was ready. he had provided himself with a _peddlar's pack_, in which he had put a set of shoemaker's tools. his design was to go round the country, and work at his trade; and, at the same time, to get such information as might be useful to his employers." [illustration] "not long after he set out upon his adventures, he arrived just at evening at a small house, at which he knocked, hoping to procure a night's lodging. "it was some time before he was heard. at length a girl came, and inquired his errand. "'i wish for a lodging to-night,' said crosby--'if it may be'-- "'i don't know, sir,' replied the girl--'i'll go and ask mother.' "the girl soon reappeared, and bade him walk in. on reaching the kitchen, he made known his wishes, to the mistress of the family. "'lodgings! sir--did you ask for lodgings? we don't keep lodgings here, sir.' "'i suppose not, madam,' said crosby, in a kind manner--'but i am quite fatigued, and thought, perhaps, you would let me stay till morning.' "'i don't know but what you may. the man is gone from home. there's such work now-a-days, that a body don't know nothing what to say or do--pray, what do you carry in that huge pack?' "'in this pack, madam? only some shoemaker's tools. i am a shoemaker, madam--perhaps, you have some work for me to do? i'll take it off with your leave.' "'well, do as you please. our john wants a pair of shoes; and perhaps the man of the house will give you the job when he comes home.' "'i shall be glad to do it,' said crosby. 'madam, have you heard the _news_?' "'what news?' "'why, that washington is on the retreat, and that the british army is pursuing him, and likely to overtake him.' "'ah! that's good news,' exclaimed the old lady, 'you may stay here to-night. sally! sally! here get this man some supper--he brings good news--i hope the rebels every one will be shot. sally!--make up the best bed. here's a chair--sit down, sir; and make yourself at home. "crosby accordingly took a seat. supper was soon ready, and he eat heartily. "when he had done, he drew his chair to the fire, about which time, the man of the house came in. he was told the _good_ news by his wife, and crosby was made welcome. "the evening was spent in talking about the war, and the prospects of the country. the host proved himself a firm tory, and wondered that crosby and every one else should not think and feel precisely as he did. "'have you many of your way of thinking in these parts?' inquired crosby. "'that we have,' replied the host--'more than we shall have a few days hence.' "'i hope so,' whispered crosby to himself. 'but, sir, how so?' inquired he, with some surprise. "'why,' replied the host, 'you must know that we've a company nearly ready to march. i guess they'll go the sooner, now that the british are after washington. they'll wish to get there in time to see some of the fun.' "'could you introduce me to some of the company?' asked crosby. "'that i can. you'd better join them. i'll tell you what--you'll have good pay and short work.' "the following morning, after breakfast, the host took crosby abroad, and introduced him to the captain of the tory company, as one who, perhaps, might be persuaded to enlist. "'would you like to enlist?' asked the captain--at the same time running his eye over the stout frame of crosby. "'i would like to see your muster-roll, first,' replied crosby." _henry_. "pray, father, what is a muster-roll?" _gen. p_. "a paper, my son, on which the names of the soldiers are registered." _henry_. "why did crosby wish to see that?" _gen. p_. "i was going to tell you. he wished to ascertain who had joined the company." _william_. "did the captain show him the roll?" _gen. p_. "yes; and carefully did crosby run over the names. "'will you join us?' asked the captain, when crosby had finished looking at the roll. "'they are all strangers to me,' said crosby, 'and besides, i fear that the roll may fall into the hands of the americans--then, what will become of us?' "'no fear of that,' said the captain. 'come with me, and see how we manage.' "crosby was now led into a large meadow, at no great distance, in which stood a large stack of hay. "'look at this stack, sir--what do you think of this?' "'it is monstrous,' said crosby. 'why so much hay in one stack?' "'not so much neither, replied the captain, 'it isn't every one that knows how to manage--here, take a look inside,' at the same time drawing aside some long hay, which concealed an apartment within. "crosby started. the stack was hollow--capable of holding at least fifty men." [illustration] "'ha! ha! ha!' roared out the captain, 'you are afraid the muster roll will fall into bad hands--are you? well, what think you now? is that likely, when we know how to manage? many a rebel has passed by this stack, but he hadn't brains enough to think what was inside. come, my good fellow, shall i enter your name?' "'i'll think of it,' said crosby, 'and let you know soon.' "while crosby was apparently making up his mind, the day passed by. he was still at the captain's, who invited him to spend the night. this invitation was accepted, and at an early hour, he retired to rest. "but he could not sleep. what should he do? he thought--pondered-- hesitated--but at length, resolved. midnight came. he rose, and having put on his clothes, softly passed from his chamber down stairs. at every step he listened--all was still--without disturbing even the wary captain, he left the premises, and was soon on his way towards white plains. "an hour or two brought him to the residence of mr. jay, whom he called from his bed, and to whom he related what he knew. a plan was soon concerted, by which to take the whole company. this being settled, crosby hastened back; and, before any one was up at the captain's, was safely, and without having excited suspicion, in his bed. "in the course of the day, he was strongly urged to enlist--but he wished to see the company together, he said. 'you shall see them together,' said the captain, 'it would be well to meet--we must arrange matters before we go.' "a hasty summons, was therefore, sent round, and before nine o'clock that night, the whole company had assembled;--it was a season of great joy among them--the rebels, they said, were so depressed, that they would have but little to do, but to march down and see them ground arms. "'well, mr. crosby,' bawled out the captain, 'what say you? will you go with us, and'-- "'hark! hark! hark!' exclaimed a soldier, who sat near the door--'i hear horses approaching.' "'out with the lights!--out with the lights!' said the captain-- 'silence every man--keep your places.' "at this moment, a loud rap was heard at the door--soon after which it was thrown open, and the word 'surrender,' uttered by an officer, came in like a peal of thunder. "'who are you?' demanded the tory captain, rising with some effort-- his knees trembling under him. "'who am i!' uttered the same voice, 'you will soon know who i am, unless you surrender--you are surrounded--you are prisoners.' "dismay now filled the company. they rose, and in the darkness which pervaded the room, attempted to escape. in the haste and confusion, chairs were broken--benches overturned--pitchers and tumblers dashed in pieces--some plunged from the windows, and were taken--others felt their way up chamber, and hid in the garret, while several, in attempting to reach the cellar, were plunged headlong upon the bottom. "in a little time, however, matters were more quiet. the horsemen had surrounded the house, and none could escape. from their hiding places they were, at length, dragged--poor crosby with the rest--and tied together in pairs, were marched to the village of white plains." chapter v. gen. p. tells how crosby contrived to effect an escape. _gen. p_. "crosby was now a prisoner and"-- _henry_. "pray, father, may i interrupt you to inquire why crosby did not tell who he was, and in that way escape?" _gen. p_. "the committee of safety had given him orders at no time to tell his secret, unless he was likely to suffer death. had it been known, that persons of this character were abroad in the country, no traveller would have been safe. "on the arrival of the party, at white plains, the prisoners were examined privately, one by one, and ordered to be marched to fishkill, a small village, near the hudson, about seventy miles from new york. crosby underwent an examination also--but when he came before the committee, they highly commended him--told him that he must go as if a prisoner to fishkill; but, in a little time, they would provide for his escape. "on the following morning, the whole party were early on their way up the river. on reaching fort montgomery, near peekskill, a short halt was made, and here crosby met with one of the most trying incidents of his life. "on entering the fort, whom should he see before him, but his former schoolmaster--a worthy man, who had often been at his father's, while teaching the village school in southeast. and well did that schoolmaster know the attachment of old mr. crosby to american liberty--yet, here was his son, among a set of tories and a prisoner. "the schoolmaster started back, with a kind of horror, and even crosby was for a moment nearly overcome. "'is this possible?' exclaimed the schoolmaster, 'do my eyes serve me? enoch crosby! why do i see you thus?' "crosby advanced, and taking his old friend by the hand, replied, 'you see me just as i am--among tories, and a prisoner--but--i have no explanations to offer." "'no explanations!' uttered the other--'are you, then, indeed, an enemy to your country? oh! your poor old father, enoch--it will bring down his gray hairs with sorrow to the grave when he hears of this.' "for a moment, crosby felt a faintness come over him--his father! he loved him--revered him--but he could not explain--it would not do--he, therefore, only replied, that god was his judge, and the time might come, when things would appear otherwise than they did. "in the midst of this conversation--painful and unsatisfactory to both, the drum sounded 'the roll,' and crosby had time only to press the hand of his old friend, which he did with affection. he was soon on his way--sadly depressed for a time, lest his father should hear his story, without the appropriate explanation; but he comforted himself that he was doing his duty to his country--and, perhaps, thought he, a few months may give us the victory, and then my father and friends will know all, and will love me the better for the part i am acting. "the party at length reached fishkill, and were conducted to an old dutch church, where they were confined and strictly watched. "within a few days, the committee of safety arrived in the village, to examine the prisoners more strictly. crosby, in his turn, was summoned to appear. but in respect to him, the committee only consulted how he might escape. there were difficulties in every plan they could think of--there was danger--great danger; yet they could not appear to favour him--and their advice to him was, to run the hazard of an attempt by night, in the best way he could contrive. and should he be so fortunate as to escape, he might find a safe retreat with a mr. ----, who lived at some distance. "crosby, at length, thought of a plan. near the north-west corner of the church was a window, from which he contrived to draw the fastenings, so that he could open it. near this window, stood a large willow tree, whose deep shade would conceal him till he could have opportunity to escape unobserved. "the night, at length, approached, in which he determined to put his plan into execution. but what if he should fail?--it might be the last of his earthly existence. "about dark, the sentinels were stationed, as usual, round the house. they were four in number. "before midnight, all was still. officers and soldiers were asleep. crosby rose, and holding his chains, so that they should not clink, crept softly to the window, which he raised. fast did his heart beat, while doing this--but faster still as he slid to the ground, beneath the willow tree. "a sentinel was at no great distance. for a moment, he stopped-- arrested by the noise--he even turned--listened--looked--but all was now silent there--and thinking himself mistaken, he sung aloud '_all's well_,' and onward he marched, still farther from the place of crosby's concealment. "now, thought he, is the moment--the only moment, perhaps, which i shall have; creeping on his hands and feet, he reached the grave yard, a stone's throw from the church, and here behind a tombstone, succeeded in loosing his chains. "when this was done, he watched the moment to make his escape. a thick swamp, he knew, was at no great distance; but the darkness of the night made haste dangerous. yet in rapidity lay his only hope. "he prepared, therefore, to run the hazard. and seizing the moment, when the sentinel had turned in an opposite direction, he bounded forth and fled--a ball passed him before he had reached many rods,-- and now another--and still another--yet a merciful providence protected him; and, before the garrison could be roused, he was wallowing deep in the mud of a swamp;--but he was safe--quite safe from pursuers." [illustration] chapter vi. gen. p. tells about crosby's visit to a mountain cave--how he was again taken prisoner--and the manner in which he escaped. _gen. p_. "the escape of crosby was a hair-breadth one, and well did he know it. he felt himself indeed safe from his pursuers, but his situation was no comfortable one--up to his knees in mud, and without a shelter for the night. "he determined, therefore, to grope his way through the swamp; and, if possible, to reach the dwelling of mr. ---- before morning. this he found a difficult task. bushes and briers and quagmires impeded his course; and several times he was on the point of giving up the effort, and waiting till day light. by slow degrees, however, he went forward--sometimes, indeed, sinking unexpectedly deep into the mud; or, when he thought himself firm on a bog--sliding away, and coming down upon all fours. at length it was his good fortune, to emerge from the thicket, in an hour or so from which, he knocked at the door of the gentleman to whom he had been referred by the committee of safety. "mr. ---- had been informed, that he might be expected that night, and was accordingly still up. a good supper was in readiness for him, and heartily did the gentleman congratulate him on his escape. "when he had finished his meal--'well,' said the gentleman, 'i have an important message to deliver to you.' "'what is it?' inquired crosby. "'the committee of safety wish you to cross the hudson immediately, where you are to take measures to seize an english officer, and a company of tories whom he has enlisted on that side.' "'cross to-night?' asked crosby. "'immediately,' replied mr. ---- 'no time is to be lost. you are fatigued--but once on the other side, you will be more safe, and can take rest.' "'i will go,' said crosby. "'and i will set you across myself,' said the gentleman, 'it is only a short distance.' "accordingly they proceeded to the river, where a boat was in readiness, in which they soon reached the opposite shore. "having received the necessary directions, crosby now proceeded on his course; and, by the hour of breakfast, had reached the ground where he was to begin his operations. "at a farm house, near where he found himself he obtained a comfortable breakfast; after finishing which, he made himself known as a shoemaker, and begged employment. "'why,' said the farmer, 'just at present, we are pretty well shod.' "'well,' observed crosby, 'perhaps you have other work, about which you can employ me. i can turn my hand to almost any kind of farming business.' "'no doubt--no doubt,' said the farmer, 'you are no fool--from yankee land, i guess--no matter--well, i don't care if you stay a couple of days, or so, and help me and my wife kill hogs, and a few such notions.' "terms were soon settled, and crosby proved quite knowing and helpful." * * * * * "what noise is that?' asked crosby, while he and the farmer were at work--'can it be thunder?' "'more like cannon,' said the farmer--'loud talk below, i rather guess.' "'hard times for washington just now,' observed crosby, 'and _some_ think pretty justly.' "'why,' said the farmer, 'why--it won't do to speak all one thinks-- but--well--why don't _you_ turn soldier--you look as though you could fight, upon a _pinch_?' "'well, i think, i might,' said crosby. 'have you any place of enlistment hereabouts, that a body could join, if one were so minded?' "'why,' replied the farmer, 'i don't know but i could put you in a way, if you are one of the right sort of men.' "'what sort do you wish?' inquired crosby. "'oh, lower party men--they are more fashionable hereabouts.' "'well, i like to be in the fashion, wherever i am,' observed crosby. "'good!' said the farmer, 'do you see yonder mountain, west?' "'i do,' replied crosby. "'well, if you wish to see as fine a fellow as ever carried sword, there is your man, and right glad would he be of your bone and muscle--good pay--light work, i tell you.' "'can i be introduced to him?' asked crosby. "'that you can--to-night--i've shown many a lad like yourself the way to make a fortune.' "in the evening the farmer was as good as his word. giving crosby a wink, they went forth, shaping their course towards the mountain, about half way up which, they came to a huge rock, which jutted over with threatening aspect; but was prevented from falling, by several forest trees, against which it rested." [illustration] "here the farmer, taking his cane, struck several smart blows upon the rock. instantly, a kind of trap door was opened, and an english captain appeared, with a lantern. "'captain!' whispered the farmer, 'here's as brave a lad as you have seen this many a day--good bye.' "'well, my lad,' said the captain, 'do you understand burrowing?' "'not much of the wood chuck about me,' replied crosby, 'more of the fox--i can enter burrows already made.' "'well! see whether your skill can contrive to enter here,' pointing to a small hole, leading into a cavern. "'tight work, i believe,' said crosby, forcing his huge frame through the opening, followed by the captain, who, from the smallness of his size, slipped down with more ease. "'quite a comfortable apartment, captain,' observed crosby, casting his eye round upon the interior, 'and not likely to starve very soon, one would judge, from the good things on your table.' "'help yourself to what you like,' said the captain, 'his majesty's friends provide well--good fare--no charges.' "crosby had but just supped--but tempted by the fare, somewhat superior to that which he had seen at the farmer's, he seated himself at the table, while the liberal hand of the captain was not backward in replenishing his plate, as often as it was emptied. "'do you leave here soon?' inquired crosby. "'to-morrow, i hope,' said the captain. 'i have burrowed here long enough. much longer--and i shall have _claws_ in good earnest.' "'your company is full, then?' "'room for one or two more. what say you, shall i enter your name?' "'when and where does the company meet, before marching?' inquired crosby. "'on tuesday evening, at the barn of mr. s----; what say you, will you be present?' "'i will,' replied crosby. "'done!' said the captain--'now turn in; and in the morning, go back to farmer b----'s, and be ready to meet us, at the time and place appointed.' "on the following morning, which was saturday, crosby returned to his employer, with whom he concluded to stay, till the appointed time of marching. "much now depended on good management. news of the above arrangement must he sent to the committee of safety, and as early as possible. at some distance from farmer b----'s, crosby had ascertained there lived an honest old whig, whom he determined to employ to carry a letter to mr. jay, then at fishkill. "accordingly, having prepared a letter, he hastened, on the setting in of evening, to fulfil his purpose. in this he succeeded to his wishes; and, before the usual hour of rest, had returned, without exciting the suspicion of any one. "the important tuesday evening, at length, arrived, and brought together, at the appointed place, the captain and about thirty tories. "crosby was early on the spot, and before eleven, he was the only individual of the whole class, who was not quietly asleep. "at length, some one without was heard by him to cough. this being the signal agreed upon, crosby coughed in return; and the next minute, the barn was filled with a body of captain townsend's celebrated rangers;--'surrender!' exclaimed townsend, in a tone, which brought every tory upon his feet--'surrender! or, by the life of washington, you'll not see day light again.' "it was in vain to resist, and the english officer delivered up his sword. "'call your muster-roll,' ordered capt. townsend. "the englishman did as directed; and, at length, came to the name of _enoch crosby_. "no one answered. crosby had concealed him self, with the hope of escaping--but, finding this impossible, he presented himself before captain townsend, and col. duer, one of the committee of safety, who was present. "'ah! is it you, crosby?' asked townsend. 'you had light heels at fishkill; but, my word for it, you will find them heavy enough after this.' "'who is he?' inquired col. duer, as if he knew him not, though he knew him well, yet not daring to recognize him. "'who is he!' exclaimed townsend, 'enoch crosby, sir--like an eel, slipping out of one's finger's as water runs down hill--but he'll not find it so easy a matter to escape again.' "the party were soon on their way to fishkill, where they arrived in the course of an hour or two, and lodged their prisoners in the old dutch church. "crosby was not thus fortunate. townsend's quarters were at some distance, and to these crosby was quite civilly invited to go, as the captain declared, that he wished to have him under his own eye. "on his arrival, crosby was placed in a room by himself--was heavily ironed, and a trusty guard detached to see that he came to 'no _harm_,' as the captain said. "during the expedition, which had occupied some twelve or fourteen hours, the company had fasted. supper was therefore prepared with some haste, after the return of the officer, who, on sitting down, fairly gorged himself with food and wine. "about midnight crosby was unexpectedly awakened, by a gentle shake. on opening his eyes, whom should he see before him but a female, who assisted in doing the work of the family. 'here, enoch crosby.' said she, 'rise and follow me--say nothing--hold fast your chains." [illustration] "crosby was not at first satisfied, whether it were a dream or a reality; but quite willing to make his escape, he rose as he was bid, and followed her. "as they passed from the room, _there_ lay the sentinel, extended at full length, dreaming of battles, it might be, but certainly, very quiet as to the safety of his prisoner. "'some virtue in _miller's opiates_,' whispered the girl. "'that's the secret, is it?' asked crosby, in rather a louder tone than was pleasant to his attendant. "'hush! hush!' said she, 'or the philistines will be upon you.'" _henry_. "pray, father, what did she mean by miller's opiates?" _gen. p_. "miller was a physician in those parts, and kept an apothecary's store. by some means, the girl had obtained from him anodyne or sleeping potions, which she had put into the food, or drink, of both the captain and his sentinels. "'they sleep well,' said crosby, on descending from the chamber to the first floor, where he could hear the loud breathing of the captain. "'i hope they'll sleep till morning,' rejoined the girl. 'stay! a moment, till i put the key of your door into the captain's pocket.' "'what?' asked crosby, 'does he keep the key himself?' "'yes, indeed,' replied the girl. 'he was determined that you should play no more yankee tricks, as he said, while under _his_ care.' "'he must have thought me a man of some contrivance, to take such precaution.' "'oh!' said the girl, 'i've often heard him call you _the_--a bad name--at least, he said he believed that you and the old boy understood one another pretty well.' "'i wonder what he'll think _now_?' said crosby. "the key being once more safely in the pocket of the captain, the girl conducted crosby out of the door, and pointing towards a mountain lying to the west, now but just discernible. "'hasten thither,' said she, 'and lie concealed till the coming search is over.' "'but tell me,' said crosby, 'before i go, how will you escape suspicion?' "'oh!' said the girl, laughing, 'never fear for me. i shall be out of harm's way before morning.' "'one more question,' said crosby--'who put it into your heart to deliver me?' "'jay is your friend,' said she,--waving her head--'farewell.' "to crosby, the whole was now plain. with a light heart, he directed his course towards the mountain pointed out; and before morning, he was safely hid in some of its secret recesses. "capt. townsend awoke at his usual hour, having slept away the anodyne potion which had been administered to him. the key to crosby's door was still in his pocket--and not a suspicion had ever entered his mind, that crosby himself was not safely in his room. "the hour at length coming, when crosby's meal was to be given, townsend himself opened the door--he started back, on looking in, and seeing no one--'what!' exclaimed he, 'empty!--impossible!--here!' vociferated he, in a tone of thunder, 'sentinel, what is the meaning of all this?' but no one could tell--no noise had been heard--the shutters of the room were safely closed--the door was locked--the key was in his pocket. "due search was now made. every nook and corner were examined; but not a trace of the vagrant was discovered. "'well!' said the captain, 'i thought crosby and the ---- were in _league_--now i know it.'" chapter vii. gen. p. tells of the farther adventures of crosby--how he was obliged to show his secret pass--of his residence at a dutchman's--of his being cruelly beaten and wounded.--conclusion. _gen. p_. "crosby, as i said, was in a safe retreat, on the mountain, before morning." _william_. "were any measures adopted to retake him?" _gen. p_. "no very active measures, probably--but townsend declared, that if crosby should ever fall in his way again, he would give him a halter forthwith. "during the following night, our hero descended the mountain, in a southerly direction; and at a late breakfast hour, the next morning, came to a farm house, the kind mistress of which gave him a comfortable meal. "for several days from this time, crosby wandered round the country, without any certain object. he greatly wished for an interview with the committee of safety; but the attempt he found would be hazardous, until the troops in the immediate neighbourhood of fishkill should be sent on some expedition, at a distance. "this was a gloomy period for crosby. although conscious of toiling in a good cause, and of promoting the interests of his country--somehow, he felt alone--not a friend had he to whom he could unbosom his cares--and often was he houseless, and in want. besides, he began to be known--to be suspected; and the double and treble caution, which he found it necessary to exercise, made his employment almost a burden. "while maturing some plan, by which he could effect an interview with the committee of safety, he called, just at evening, at a farm house, and requested a night's lodging. this was readily granted him, and he laid aside his pack, thankful to find a resting place, after the toils of the day. "it was not long, before two very large men, armed with muskets, entered the house. one of them started on seeing crosby, and whispered something to his companion, to which the latter apparently assented. "then, turning to crosby--'i have seen you before, i think, sir?' said he. "'probably,' replied crosby, 'though i cannot say that i recollect you.' "'perhaps not--but i am sure you were not long since at fishkill? ha?'" [illustration] "'the very fellow!' exclaimed the other--'you recollect how he escaped--seize him!' "in a moment, the strong hand of the first was laid upon him, and his grasp was the grasp of an anakim--and though crosby might have been a match for him alone,--prudence forbade resistance--they were two--he was but one;--they were armed with muskets--he had no weapon about him. "'to-morrow,' said the principal, 'you shall go to head quarters, where, my word for it, you'll swing without much ceremony. the committee will never take the trouble to try you again, and townsend declares that he wishes only to come once more within gun shot of you.' "'is it so?' asked crosby. "'even so'--replied the stranger--'your time is short.' "crosby was seldom alarmed--but _now_ he could perceive real danger. could he be fairly tried he might escape--but to be delivered into townsend's hands, and perhaps the committee of safety at a distance-- he might, indeed, come to harm. "he had _one_ resort--he could show his _pass_, and it might save him. accordingly, drawing it forth, he presented it to his captors; 'read that,' said he, 'and then say, whether i am worthy of death.' "astonishment sat on the countenances of both while they read the pass. when it was finished, the principal observed, 'i am satisfied-- we have been deceived--others are deceived also;--you are at liberty to go where you please. this is the hand-writing of mr. jay--i know it well.' "crosby might, perhaps, have staid where he was through the night--but his feelings were such, that he preferred to seek other lodgings. accordingly, shouldering his pack, he set forth in quest of a resting place; which at the distance of a couple of miles, he was so fortunate as to obtain. "but he was destined to other troubles. scarcely had he laid aside his pack, and taken a seat near a comfortable fire, before a man entered, whom he was sure that he had seen before. "at the same time, the stranger cast upon him an eye of deep scrutiny, and increasing severity. "'a cool evening abroad'--observed crosby. "the stranger made no reply--but springing upon his feet, darted upon him, like a fiend. "'now, i know you'--exclaimed he--'i thought it was you. you are the villain who betrayed us to the committee of safety. clear out from the house quickly, or i'll call one of my neighbours, who says that if he ever sees you again, he'll suck your very heart's blood.' "'ah!' said crosby, quite calm and collected--'perhaps'-- "'leave this house instantly'--vociferated the man, now nearly choked with rage--'but before you go, take one pounding.' "'a pounding!' exclaimed crosby, in contempt--'come then,'--rising like a lion from his lair--'come,'--said he, at the same time rolling up his sleeves, and showing a pair of fists, which resembled a trip-hammer for hardness. "'come on, and i'll try you a pull'--the muscles of his arm contracting, and lying out like cart-ropes the whole length--from shoulder to wrist--and his countenance, at the same time, looking as terrific as a madman's--'come on,' said he." [illustration] "'why! we-we-ll--upon the whole'--said the man--'i--i--think i'll let you off, if you'll never set foot here again.' "'i'll promise no such thing,' said crosby. 'i'm willing to go-- indeed, i would, not stay in such a habitation as this; but i'll not be driven.' "crosby well knew that prudence required his departure; and with some deliberation, he shouldered his pack once more, and with a short 'good by'--left the house. at the distance of a mile, he found lodgings where he slept unmolested. "on the following morning, he ascertained that the committee of safety were alone at fishkill--the troops having gone abroad on some expedition. seizing the opportunity of their absence, he crossed the river, and was soon at the residence of mr. duer. "that crosby was in more than ordinary danger in traversing the country, was apparent both to himself and mr. duer. he was advised, therefore, to repair to an honest old dutchman's, who lived in a retired place, some miles distant, and there wait until farther orders. "accordingly, being furnished with a complete set of tools, he proceeded to the appointed place, and was so fortunate as to find ample employ for some time, under the very roof of his host. "a few days only, however, had elapsed, when an express arrived, bringing him a letter from mr. duer. "the worthy old dutchman was quite curious to know from whom the letter came, and what was its purport. "'val,' said he, knocking the ashes from his pipe--'you know tee shentlemen of tee armee? vat for tey rite you?--eh?' "crosby waived an answer as well as he was able, informing his host that he must be absent a short time, when he would return, and finish the shoes. "'val,' said the dutchman, 'how you go?--on shank's mare? you no trudge so--you nebber get tere. here, you hauns! puckle tee pest shaddle on mine horse, and pring him to tee horse plock tirectly--you hear?' "the horse was brought out accordingly, and crosby was soon on his way to fishkill. on his arrival, circumstances existed, which rendered it imprudent for him to tarry, and he was directed to go to dr. miller's, who kept an apothecary's shop at some distance, and there wait the arrival of one of the committee of safety. "on reaching the place, he inquired for dr. miller, who he was told was absent. this information was given him by a girl, whom he was sure he had seen before, but where he could not recollect. "'if you wish to trade,' said the girl, 'i can wait upon you. perhaps you would like some of dr. miller's opiates. you recollect they are quite powerful.' "crosby was on the point of exclaiming. but the girl whispered him to be silent. 'these men,' said she, 'who are around us, are _whigs_, but you must not let your name be known.' "while thus conversing, and listening to the conversation of several men, at the fire, a stranger entered the shop, and inquired for a vial of medicine. crosby recognized that it was mr. jay--so slipping out of the door, he pretended to be admiring the stranger's fine horse, when mr. jay came out; and, as he mounted, whispered to crosby to return to the dutchman's, and wait for farther orders. "accordingly, he soon after left miller's, and before night was again at his quarters. "'sho, ten, you cot pack'--said the dutchman as crosby rode into the yard--the smoke at the same time running in a fine curl from his mouth. "'safe home again,' replied crosby. "'yaw, tee horse pe true--true--he vill ride any potty rite to mine ouse. hauns! here--take off his shaddle--rup him toun mit a whisp of shtraw--tont let him trink till he coutch'd cuoold.' "a few days from this time, crosby received definite instructions from the committee of safety, to repair to vermont, on a secret expedition; and as no time was to be lost, he was obliged to bid his host adieu, quite suddenly. "'can you direct me the road to s----,' asked crosby. "'to s----? yaw--you see dat road pon de hel?' "'o, yes,' said crosby, 'i see it.'" [illustration] "'val, you musht not take dat roat. but, i tell you vat, you musht go right straight by the parn, and vere you see yon roat dat crooks just so--see here'--bending his elbow--'you must go right strait--ten you vill turn de potato patch round, de pridge over, and de river up stream, and de hel up; and tirectly you see mine prother haunse's parn shingled mit straw; dat's his house, vare mine prother schnven lives. he'll tell you so petter as i can. and you go little farther, you see two roats--you musht not take bote of 'em--understand?' "'quite plain! quite plain!' said crosby--adding in a low tone to himself, 'that you are a dutchman. well, friend, good morning.'" * * * * * "we shall not attempt to follow crosby on his northern tour; nor to relate the many adventures with which he met during his absence. he proved of great service to the cause of his country; but often suffered much by being taken with tories, whose capture he was instrumental in effecting. "at length he returned to the theatre of his former operations, but he was now suspected by the tories of being a secret friend to the whigs, and opposed to the royal cause. he was, therefore, narrowly watched, and even found it necessary to hide himself at a brother-in-law's in the highlands. nor was he even here secure, for on the second night after reaching his brother-in-law's residence, a musket was discharged through the window at him, the ball of which grazed his neck, and tore the collar of his coat. "it was apparent from this circumstance that his retreat was known; but it was rendered quite certain a few nights after, by the appearance of an armed gang at the door, who having burst in, dragged crosby's brother-in-law from the bed, and demanded where crosby slept. "this information, for a time, was refused; but at length, death was threatened, in case of refusal, and his bed chamber was pointed out. "crosby heard the coming of the assailants, and sprung to his gun; but, before he could reach it, a ruffian had snapped a pistol at his head. fortunately, it missed fire--but _now_ a most desperate engagement followed, in which crosby showed the most astonishing strength and agility--but numbers, at length, overpowered him, and he was left for dead. "life, however, was not extinct. and after the ruffians had retired, crosby in a measure came to himself; but months passed away before he was able to resume the business, in which he had been engaged. indeed, after this period, less was required. the long and bloody contest was in a measure drawing to a close. liberty, for which so many had fought and bled, was destined to take up her delightful abode on the american soil. "but had the same necessity existed, it was apparent that crosby must be released. it was becoming dangerous for him to be seen abroad. he was known to many, to whose capture he had been directly instrumental. such were of course bitter against him, and needed only an opportunity to wreak their vengeance upon him. yet he continued with the army some time longer. at length his time of service expired, upon which he returned to south-east, where he still lives." _william_. "what! alive yet, father?" _gen. p_. "yes, still living, and enjoying the pleasant reflection that millions are freemen, whom he helped to make free--but who, without his labours, and those of kindred spirits, might this day be doing homage to british power." the end. produced from images generously made available by the internet archive.) [illustration: s. e. e. edmonds engraved by geo. e. perine, n. y. engraved for the nurse & spy.] nurse and spy in the union army: comprising the adventures and experiences of a woman in hospitals, camps, and battle-fields. by s. emma e. edmonds. with illustrations. published by subscription only by w. s. williams & co., hartford, conn. jones bros. & co., philadelphia and cincinnati. j. a. stoddard & co., chicago, ill. . entered according to act of congress in the year , by w. s. williams & company in the clerk's office of the district court of the united states, for the district of connecticut. printed by wiley, waterman, & eaton, hartford, conn. to the sick and wounded soldiers of the army of the potomac, this volume is respectfully inscribed by the author. embellishments. portrait engraved on steel by geo. e. perine, n. y. disguises and other scenes, drawn and engraved on wood by r. o'brien, new york. page. portrait of the author, frontispiece. hospital tree at fair oaks, catering for hospitals, disguised as a contraband, making hoe-cake for a sick rebel, acting orderly on the battle-field, riding for life, relief for the famishing, disguised as female contraband, an interesting patient, playing possum, paying a debt of gratitude, bursting of a shell in vicksburg, publishers' notice. no apology is necessary for adding one more to the numerous "war books" which already fill a large space in american literature; for, to the general reader, nothing connected with the rebellion can be more interesting than the personal experiences of those who have been intimately associated with the different phases of military life, in camp, field, and hospital. the "nurse and spy" is simply a record of events which have transpired in the experience and under the observation of one who has been on the field and participated in numerous battles--among which are the first and second bull run, williamsburg, fair oaks, the seven days in front of richmond, antietam, and fredericksburg--serving in the capacity of "spy" and as "field nurse" for over two years. while in the "secret service" as a "spy," which is one of the most hazardous positions in the army--she penetrated the enemy's lines, in various disguises, no less than eleven times; always with complete success and without detection. her efficient labors in the different hospitals as well as her arduous duties as "field nurse," embrace many thrilling and touching incidents, which are here most graphically described. should any of her readers object to some of her disguises, it may be sufficient to remind them it was from the purest motives and most praiseworthy patriotism, that she laid aside, for a time, her own costume, and assumed that of the opposite sex, enduring hardships, suffering untold privations, and hazarding her life for her adopted country, in its trying hour of need. in the opinion of many, it is the privilege of woman to minister to the sick and soothe the sorrowing--and in the present crisis of our country's history, to aid our brothers to the extent of her capacity--and whether duty leads her to the couch of luxury, the abode of poverty, the crowded hospital, or the terrible battle field--it makes but little difference what costume she assumes while in the discharge of her duties.--perhaps she should have the privilege of choosing for herself whatever may be the surest protection from insult and inconvenience in her blessed, self-sacrificing work. the moral character of the work,--being true to virtue, patriotism, and philanthropy--together with the fine embellishments and neat mechanical execution--will, we trust, render it an interesting and welcome visitor at every fireside. contents. chapter i. pages - . commencement of the war--my home and my duty--i enlist in the cause--excitement at the west--troops on the march--mobs at baltimore--temporary hospitals--unavoidable evils--begging for comforts--supplies for the sick--camp hospitals--thunder storms in camp--a dying officer--soldiers in the public buildings--preparations for the advance. chapter ii. pages - . marching orders--removal of the sick--a young patient--visit from his mother--march toward manassas--collecting supplies--fatigues of the march--preparations for battle--a camp prayer meeting--divisions detailed--my place on the field--"rather close quarters"--a battle sunday--skulking from the field. chapter iii. pages - . water for the wounded--col. cameron killed--scenes on the battle-field--burnside's brigade--capture of griffin's and rickett's batteries--rebels reinforced--the panic and retreat--the wounded at centerville--my reconnoissance--an insane woman on the field--hiding from the enemy--return to the wounded--expectation of capture--escape from the rebels--my walk to alexandria--footsore and weary--arrival in washington--letters from dead soldiers' friends. chapter iv. pages - . washington after bull run--demoralization of the army--sick soldiers--hospital scenes--extracts from my journal--sympathy of soldiers--fishing for the sick--a fish-loving dutchman--reorganization of the army--a visit to the pickets--picket duties and dangers--the army inactive--mcclellan's address--marching orders again--embarkation of the army for fortress monroe--the crowded transports--description of the monitor--her build, armament, turret and engines. chapter v. pages - . arrival at fortress monroe--the village of hampton--visiting the contrabands--arrival of fugitives--a real "camp meeting"--feeding the negroes--camp miseries--mules--miss periwinkle's mules--the coquettish, the moral, the histrionic, and the pathetic mule--our jack--lines of love--my box and presents--a three-story cake--a serenade and surprise party--good and bad chaplains--the morals of the army--slanders about soldiers. chapter vi. pages - . the march to yorktown--scarcity of supplies--camp cookery--different characters in the army--arrival of trains--change of camp--trying to shell us out--the old saw-mill--a constant target--assaults on our outposts--a rebel appeal--yorktown and vicinity--the situation--balloon reconnoissances--prof. lowe on high--rebel vixens--a curious visit--a strange hostess--she tries to kill me--i wound her and capture a prisoner--a conversion--the secesh woman becomes a federal nurse. chapter vii. pages - . a lost friend--death of lieutenant james v.--his burial--the grave by night--my vow--a soldier-chaplain--recognitions in heaven--doubts and dissatisfaction--capture of a spy--my examinations at headquarters--my disguise as a spy--i am metamorphosed into a contraband--hired as a cook--biscuit making--the doctor's tea. chapter viii. pages - . my first secret expedition--my work among contrabands--pickaxe, shovel and wheelbarrow--counting the guns in a rebel fortification--a change of work--carrying water to the rebel soldiers--generals lee and johnson--the rebel force at yorktown--a council of war--turning white again--a rebel spy--lieutenant v.'s murderer--on picket duty--my return to our lines--i put on uniform and make my report. chapter ix. pages - . evacuation of yorktown--our army on the double quick--pursuit of the fugitives--the enemy's works--a battle--on the field--a "wounded," and not injured colonel--carrying the wounded--fort magruder silenced--the victory won--burying the dead--story of a ring--wounded rebels--a brave young sergeant--christian soldiers--a soldier's death-bed--closing scenes--last words. chapter x. pages - . mcclellan's despatch from ewell's farm--call for reinforcements--news from norfolk--description of the merrimac--the engagement in hampton roads--first and last fight of the merrimac--victory of the monitor--advance on the peninsula--the battle song--a muddy march--on the chickahominy--critical position of general banks--the president's despatches--mcclellan's reply. chapter xi. pages - . another disguise--i become an irish peddler--fever and ague--a night of suffering in the swamp--retrospection--lost in the swamp--cannon my guides--a sick rebel--i find something to eat--my new patient--sympathy for suffering--talk with a dying rebel--a willing detention--extemporizing a light--the last hour--soldiers of christ--the chamber of death. chapter xii. pages - . am i a stoic?--someone's darling--completing my disguise--another start for the rebel lines--peppering my eyes--challenged by a picket--a cockney sentinel--getting information--plenty of beef, but no salt--rice and corn meal bread--preparing to visit headquarters--interview with major mckee--the major's misplaced confidence--return for the body of the rebel captain--my look-out for yankees--new orders. chapter xiii. pages - . our communications with the chickahominy--porter's successes--despatches to the president--his reply--hanover court house--terrible storm and flood--hopes of the enemy--a sudden and strong attack--i act as an orderly--through the flood--my return and report--joyful news--my own disaster--scenes in the old mill--waiting on the wounded--my sufferings by the roadside--a hard-hearted chaplain--a stumbling block. chapter xiv. pages - . renewal of the battle--victory for the federal arms--address to the army--more despatches--my battle trophy--pony reb's performances--the hospital tree--touching scenes--bishop simpson--the cross and the flag--after the battle--delays by storms, floods and mud--mcclellan's call for more men--in readiness to march--promised reinforcements. chapter xv. pages - . leave of absence--visit to the williamsburg hospitals--effective preaching--yorktown revisited--longings--white house landing--tired of idleness--preparations to return to duty--stuart's cavalry raid--a train fired into--fair oaks grove--the strength of the enemy--trying times on the peninsula--the endurance of our soldiers--labors of mr. alvord. chapter xvi. pages - . change of base across the peninsula--evacuation of white house--the movement--battle of mechanicsville--gaines' mill--a repulse--mcclellan's despatch--hospitals in danger--convalescent officers--lending my horse--a lottery--inspecting farm stock--catching a colt--danger of capture--riding for life--between two fires. chapter xvii. pages - . withdrawal to malvern hill--the soldier's last watch--trowbridge's grave--scenes in a hospital--capture of the wounded--a noble surgeon--line of battle--hard fighting--the enemy repulsed--hunting for food--in a farm-house--perilous position--securing the spoils--relief of the famishing--sublime scene--on the march--general keyes--gun-boats--arrival at harrison's landing--sad condition of troops--our losses--mcclellan's address to the army. chapter xviii. pages - . return of old acquaintances--the wounded colonel--i visit washington--military display--epaulets--aristocracy--spirit of johnny bull--soldiers' free library--contraband camp--negro testimony--patient charley--painful position--brother's last conversation--return to the army--christian commission--general howard's speech. chapter xix. pages - . my constant companion--dispelling the blues--gentle nellie--faces in the hospital--asleep and awake--my horse again--at harrison's landing--impatient to move--dissatisfaction in the army--retreat from richmond--return to newport news--suspicious quarters--searching the house and finding rebel soldiers--thanks to the army--our arrival at acquia creek. chapter xx. pages - . pope's army--a general s request--again a contraband--entering the rebel lines as a spy--my escape to the federal lines--in peril--kearney killed--crawling through the woods--burial of a picket--looking for a general--mr. negative--mcclellan and pope--the battle of antietam--a touching death-scene--an interesting patient--burial of a female soldier. chapter xxi. pages - . after antietam--surgeons on the field--the hospitals--lieutenant-colonel dwight mortally wounded--a brutal surgeon--a wounded captain--agony from thirst--christian soldiers--praying and fighting--fops on the field--a rebel programme--pennsylvania to be stripped--camp life--daily routine--burial services. chapter xxii. pages - . a military execution--the preparations--the death--harper's ferry--old john brown--contrast--advance into virginia--condition of the army--a dreary ride--a green guard--seeking shelter--a guerrilla fight--my horse killed--playing possum--my pockets picked--a narrow escape--return to camp--an interesting meeting. chapter xxiii. pages - . mcclellan removed--his address--burnside in command--on the march--my ride--old battlefields--sad sights--"yankee skulls"--"bone ornaments"--falmouth--shelling fredericksburg--pontoon bridges--occupation of the city--aide-de-camp--dreadful slaughter--a gallant major--strange sights--dark night--death of general bayard--someone's pet--recrossing the rappahannock. chapter xxiv. pages - . after the battle--sufferings of the wounded--general burnside's order--"stuck in the mud"--hooker in command--western campaign--cavalry reconnoissance--another disguise--again in dixie--a wedding party--in a trap--rebel conscript--on the march--a rebel captain--a fierce engagement--paying a debt of gratitude--again under the old flag. chapter xxv. pages - . appointed detective--i visit louisville--secesh acquaintances--seeking employment--peddling--rebel spies--acting as clerk--trapping spies--start for vicksburg--pro-slavery troops--cruelty to negroes--visiting hospitals--touching scenes--an armless soldier--patient suffering--triumphant death--rally round the flag--western chaplains--soldiers' testimony--effect of prayer in battle--carrying the wounded. chapter xxvi. pages - . a unionist from the rebel army--his testimony--southern hospitals--patriotism--female recruiting--crinoline--"sweet little man"--confederate system--north and south contrasted--rebel impressment--brothers' cruelty--dying for the union--fate of a tennessee patriot--on the mississippi--invisible attraction--an important question--moral sublimity--contrabands jubilee. chapter xxvii. pages - . arrival at vicksburg--its surroundings--grant's army--assault on the rebel works--the seven color-bearers--pemberton's harangue--in the trenches--sufferings of the wounded--pemberton's proposed capitulation--grant's reply--terms of surrender--occupation of the city--loss of the enemy--complimentary letter--grant's success--attachment of his soldiers--"fighting dick"--gold lace--rebel sufferings--sights in vicksburg--incidents of the siege--cave life. chapter xxviii. pages - . western gibraltar--the "lead miners"--the palmetto exchanged for the stars and stripes--enthusiasm of troops--sufferings forgotten--i am attacked by fever--unfit for duty--"vicksburg is ours"--spirit yearnings--"rock me to sleep mother"--imposition of steamboat officers--grant's care for his men--bursting of a shell in camp--consequences--speechless agony--i am released from duty--my trip to cairo--miss mary safford--arrival at washington. chapter xxix. pages - . review of hospital and camp life--questions answered--behind the scenes--blessed employment--living past scenes over again--my most important labors--mother and son--strange power of sympathy--hero's repose--officers and men--the bravest are kindest--general sedgwick--battle scenes--mr. alvord's description--volunteer surgeons--heart sickening sights--an awful picture--female nurses--sentimental--patriotic--medical department--young surgeons--anecdotes. chapter xxx. pages - . closing incidents--professor lowe's balloon--fitz john porter's adventure--his upward flight--reconnoitering from a dangerous position--cool courage--enthusiastic greeting--an earnest inquirer--a baptism in the army--preaching by moonlight--a magnificent scene--a wedding in camp--gay times--a contrast--hospital in winchester--spirit of revenge--sable heroine--a white darkey--colored soldiers--conclusion. [illustration: hospital tree at fair oaks.--page .] nurse and spy. chapter i. commencement of the war--my home and my duty--i enlist in the cause--excitement at the west--troops on the march--mobs at baltimore--temporary hospitals--unavoidable evils--begging for comforts--supplies for the sick--camp hospitals--thunders storms in camp--a dying officer--soldiers in the public buildings--preparations for the advance. early in the spring of , i was returning from the far west, and as i sat waiting for the train which was to bear me to my adopted home in new england, and was meditating upon the events which had transpired during the past few months, the record of which was destined to blacken the fair pages of american history, i was aroused from my reverie by a voice in the street crying "new york herald--fall of fort sumter--president's proclamation--call for seventy-five thousand men!" this announcement startled me, while my imagination portrayed the coming struggle in all its fearful magnitude. war, civil war, with all its horrors seemed inevitable, and even then was ready to burst like a volcano upon the most happy and prosperous nation the sun ever shone upon. the contemplation of this sad picture filled my eyes with tears and my heart with sorrow. it is true, i was not an american--i was not obliged to remain here during this terrible strife--i could return to my native land where my parents would welcome me to the home of my childhood, and my brothers and sisters would rejoice at my coming. but these were not the thoughts which occupied my mind. it was not my intention, or desire, to seek my own personal ease and comfort while so much sorrow and distress filled the land. but the great question to be decided, was, what can i do? what part am i to act in this great drama? i was not able to decide for myself--so i carried this question to the throne of grace, and found a satisfactory answer there. five years previous to the time of which i write, i left my rural home, not far from the banks of the st. john's river, in the province of new brunswick, and made my way to the united states. an insatiable thirst for education led me to do this, for i believed then, as now, that the "foreign missionary" field was the one in which i must labor, sooner or later. i came here a stranger, with but little to recommend me to the favorable notice of the good people, except a letter from the pastor of the church to which i belonged, and one from my class-leader--notwithstanding, i found kind friends to help me in all my undertakings, and whether in business, education, or spiritual advancement, i have been assisted beyond my highest expectation. i thank god that i am permitted in this hour of my adopted country's need to express a tithe of the gratitude which i feel toward the people of the northern states. ten days after the president's proclamation was issued, i was ready to start for washington, having been employed by the government, and furnished with all the necessary equipments. i was not merely to go to washington and remain there until a battle had been fought and the wounded brought in, and then in some comfortable hospital sit quietly and fan the patients, after the surgeon had dressed their wounds; but i was to go to the front and participate in all the excitement of the battle scenes, or in other words, be a "field nurse." the great west was stirred to its center, and began to look like a vast military camp. recruiting offices were filled with men eager to enroll their names as defenders of their country--and women were busily engaged in preparing all the comforts that love and patriotism could suggest, for those who were so soon to go forth to victory or to death, while the clash of arms and strains of martial music almost drowned the hum of industry, and war became the theme of every tongue. about this time i witnessed the departure of the first western troops which started for washington. the regiments were drawn up in line--fully equipped for their journey--with their bright bayonets flashing in the morning sunlight. it was on the principal street of a pleasant little village of about a thousand inhabitants, where there was scarcely a family who had not a father, husband, son, or brother in that little band of soldiers who stood there ready to bid them farewell, perhaps for years--perhaps forever. a farewell address was delivered by the village pastor, and a new testament presented to each soldier, with the following inscription: "put your trust in god--and keep your powder dry." then came the leave-taking--but it is too painful to dwell upon--the last fond word was spoken, the last embrace given, then came the order "march"--and amid the cheers of the citizens--with banners proudly floating, and the bands playing "the star spangled banner," they moved forward on their way to the capital. on looking back now upon the scenes of that morning, notwithstanding i have looked upon others much more thrilling since then, yet i cannot recall that hour without feelings of deep emotion. while i stood there and beheld those manly forms convulsed with emotion, and heard the sobs of those whom they were leaving behind, i could only thank god that i was free and could go forward and work, and was not obliged to stay at home and weep. a few hours more, and i, too, was on my way to washington. when i reached baltimore i found the city in an uproar--mobs were gathered in the streets and the utmost excitement prevailed: and as the crowded cars moved through the city toward the depot, the infuriated mob threw showers of stones, brickbats, and other missiles, breaking the windows and wounding some of the soldiers. some of the men could not forbear firing into the crowd--notwithstanding their orders were to the contrary--however, it had a good effect, for the mob soon dispersed; they probably had not forgotten the sixth massachusetts and the pennsylvania troops which had passed through a short time before. the cars soon reached the depot, and started immediately for washington--where we arrived in due time--weary, and in great need of food and sleep. soon after reaching washington i commenced visiting the temporary hospitals which were prepared to receive the soldiers who arrived there sick. the troops came pouring in so fast, and the weather being extremely warm, all the general hospitals were soon filled, and it seemed impossible to prepare suitable, or comfortable, accommodations for all who required medical attention. there are many things in connection with this war that we are disposed to find fault with, and we think the blame rests upon such and such individuals--but after investigating the matter, we find that they are all owing to a combination of circumstances entirely beyond the control of those individuals--and it requires time to bring about the desired results. this has been my experience with regard to the hospital department. after walking through the streets for hours on a sultry southern day in search of one of those temporary hospitals, i would find a number of men there delirious with fever--others had been sun-struck and carried there--but no physician to be found in attendance. then, i would naturally come to the conclusion that the surgeons were all slack concerning their duty--but upon going to the office of the surgeon in charge of that department, would find that a certain number of surgeons were detailed every morning to visit those hospitals, and were faithfully performing their duty; but that the number of hospitals and patients were increasing so fast that it required all day to make the tour. consequently the last ones visited were obliged to wait and suffer--without any blame attaching to the surgeons. then another great evil was to be remedied--there were thousands of sick men to be taken care of--but for these the government had made no provision as regards more delicate kinds of food--nothing but hard bread, coffee and pork, for sick and well, alike. the sanitary commission had not yet come into operation and the consequence was our poor sick soldiers suffered unspeakably from want of proper nourishment. i was speaking upon this subject one day to chaplain b. and his wife--my constant companions in hospital labor--when mrs. b. suggested that she and i should appeal to the sympathies of the ladies of washington and georgetown, and try our hand at begging. i agreed to the proposal at once, and wondered why i had not thought of it myself--among all my schemes for alleviating the sufferings of these men, it had never entered into my head to _beg_ for them. we decided to go to georgetown first and if we succeeded there, to canvass washington. so we started, and commenced operations by calling first upon a clergyman's wife. we made inquiry there with regard to our prospects of success, and the sentiments of the ladies generally upon the war question, and finding that the majority were in our favor, we started again quite hopefully--but not until the lady above mentioned had given us an order on her grocer to the amount of five dollars. i gave sister b. the credit of that, for i had introduced her as the wife of the rev. mr. b., chaplain of the th. then i suggested that we should separate for a few hours--she to take one street and i another, so that we might sooner get through the city. my next call was at a doctor's mansion, but i did not find the lady at home; however, i learned that the doctor in question kept a drug-store near by; she might be there; went, but found no lady; thought fit to make my business known to the doctor, and the consequence was, half a dozen bottles of blackberry wine and two of lemon syrup, with a cordial invitation to call again. so prospered our mission throughout the day, and at the close of it we had a sufficient supply of groceries, brandy, ice, jellies, etc., to fill our little ambulance; and oh, what a change those little delicacies wrought upon our poor sick boys. we were encouraged by that day's work, to continue our efforts in that direction, and finally made dr. w.'s store a depot for the donations of those kind friends who wished to assist us in restoring to health the defenders of our beloved country. typhoid fever began to make its appearance in camp, as the burning sun of june came pouring down upon us, and the hospitals were soon crowded with its victims. it was then that my labors began in earnest, and as i went from tent to tent, ministering to the wants of those delirious, helpless men, i wondered if there ever was a "missionary field" which promised a richer harvest, than the one in which i was already engaged; and oh, how thankful i was that it was my privilege to take some small part in so great a work. i shall notice, briefly, the manner in which the hospitals are conducted in camp. there are large tents furnished for hospital purposes, which will accommodate from twenty to twenty-five men. these tents are usually put up in the most pleasant and shady part of the camp; the inside is nicely leveled, and board floors laid, if boards can be procured, if not, rubber blankets are laid down instead. sometimes there are straw ticks and cot bedsteads furnished, but not in sufficient quantity to supply all the hospitals. along each side of the tent the sick are laid, on blankets or cots, leaving room to pass between the beds. in the center of the tent stands a temporary board table, on which are kept books, medicines, et cetera. the hospital corps consists of a surgeon, an assistant surgeon, a hospital steward, a ward-master, four nurses, two cooks, and a man of all work to carry water, cut wood, and make himself generally useful. the immediate care of the sick devolves upon those four nurses, who are generally detailed from the ranks, each one being on duty six hours without intermission. the surgeons visit the patients twice every day, oftener if required; the prescriptions are filled by the hospital steward, and the medicine is administered by the nurses. the nurses are usually very kind to the sick, and when off duty in the hospital, spend much of their time in digging drains around the tents, planting evergreens, and putting up awnings, all of which add much to the coolness and comfort of the hospital. draining the grounds is a very important part of hospital duty, for when those terrible thunder-storms come, which are so frequent in the south, it is morally impossible to keep the tent floors from being flooded, unless there are drains all around the tents. great excitement prevails in camp during those tempests--the rain comes down in torrents, while the wind blows a hurricane--lifting the tents from the ground, and throwing everything into wild confusion. i have seen a dozen men stand for hours around one hospital, holding down the ropes and tent poles to prevent the sick from being exposed to the raging elements. in one of those storms, i saw a tent blown down, in which one of our officers lay suffering from typhoid fever. we did our best to keep him dry until a stretcher could be procured, but all in vain. notwithstanding we wrapped him in rubber blankets and shawls, yet the rain penetrated them all, and by the time he was carried to a house, a quarter of a mile distant, he was completely drenched. he was a noble fellow and i love to speak of him. mrs. b. and i remained with him alternately until he died, which was five days from that time. we sent for his wife, who arrived just in time to see him die. he was unconscious when she came, and we were standing around his cot watching every shadow which the sable wing of advancing death cast upon his features, and eagerly looking for a single ray of returning reason. he looked up suddenly, and seeing his wife standing weeping, he beckoned her to come to him. kneeling beside him, she bent her ear close to the lips of the dying man. he whispered distinctly, "i am going--the way is bright, don't weep--farewell!" a little later he was asked, "what is the foundation of your hope of heaven?" his face was calm and beautiful in its expression, and his splendid dark eyes lit up with holy confidence and trust, as he replied, "christ--christ!" these were his last words. glorious words for a dying soldier. he lingered a few hours, and then quietly and peacefully breathed out his life. so passed away one of the most exemplary men it has ever been my lot to meet, either in the army or elsewhere. the same day, the sorrowing widow, with the remains of her beloved and noble husband, started for her northern home; and that christian patriot now sleeps in a beautiful little cemetery near the city of detroit, michigan, having rendered up his life a willing sacrifice for his country. mrs. b. was desirous of visiting some of the public buildings in washington and wished me to accompany her. i did so, but found that it was almost impossible to get along through the crowded streets. the gallant troops were coming in by thousands from every loyal state in the union. the capitol and white house were common places of resort for soldiers. arms were stacked in the rotunda of the one and the lobbies of the other, while our "noble boys in blue" lounged in the cushioned seats of members of congress, or reclined in easy chairs in the president's mansion. camps of instruction were prepared near the city, while every hillside and valley for miles around was thickly dotted with snow white tents. soldiers drilling, fatigue parties building forts, artillery practicing, and the supply trains moving to and from the various headquarters, presented a picture deeply interesting. as i rode from camp to camp and contemplated that immense army concentrating its force on the banks of the potomac, and saw with what zeal and enthusiasm the soldiers entered upon their duties, i could but feel assured of the speedy termination of the conflict, and look forward with eager anticipation to the day when that mighty host would advance upon the enemy, and like an overwhelming torrent sweep rebellion from the land. chapter ii. marching orders--removal of the sick--a young patient--visit from his mother--march toward manassas--collecting supplies--fatigues of the march--preparations for battle--a camp prayer meeting--divisions detailed--my place on the field--"rather close quarters"--a battle sunday--skulking from the field. marching orders received to-day--two days more, and the army of the potomac will be on its way to bull run. i find this registered in my journal july th, , without any comment whatever. but i do not require a journal to refresh my memory with regard to the events of those two days of preparation which followed their announcement. the army of the potomac was soon to meet the enemy for the first time--a great battle was to be fought. oh, what excitement and enthusiasm that order produced--nothing could be heard but the wild cheering of the men, as regiment after regiment received their orders. the possibility of a defeat never seemed to enter the mind of any. all the sick in camp now were to be sent to washington, clothes changed, knapsacks packed, letters written home, packages sent to the express office, etc. after all was done, everything in readiness, and the sick men tenderly laid in the ambulances, mrs. b. said: "now let us go to every ambulance and bid the boys good-bye." as we passed along from one ambulance to another, speaking words of encouragement to each soldier, many a tear would start from grateful eyes, and many a feeble voice uttered an earnest "god bless you," while others would draw from their bosoms some cherished relic, and give as a token of remembrance. oh how hard it was to part with those men, with whom we had watched so many weary days and nights--we felt that they had, truly, "become endeared to us through suffering." there was one patient, however, we did not put into an ambulance, and who was a great source of anxiety to us. he lay there upon a stretcher close by, waiting to be carried to a house not far distant. he was young, not seventeen, with clear blue eyes, curly auburn hair, and a broad, white brow; his mother's pride, and an only son. two weeks previously he had been attacked with typhoid fever. the surgeon said, "you may do all you can for him, but it is a hopeless case." mrs. b. had devoted most of her time to him and i was often called to assist her. he was delirious and became quite unmanageable at times, and it required all the strength we possessed to keep him in bed; but now the delirium of fever had passed away and he was helpless as an infant. we had written for his mother to come if possible, and had just received a letter from her, stating that she was on her way to washington; but would she come before we were obliged to leave? oh, we hoped so, and were anxiously looking for her. the ambulances started with their freight of emaciated, suffering men. slowly that long train wound its way toward the city looking like a great funeral procession, and sadly we turned to our remaining patient, who was deeply affected at the removal of his comrades. he was then carried to the house above mentioned and a nurse left to take care of him, while we were obliged to prepare for our own comfort on the long weary march which was so near at hand. we had just commenced to pack our saddle-bags, when we heard an unusual noise, as of some one crying piteously, and going out to learn the cause of the excitement, whom should we find but the mother of our handsome blue-eyed patient. she had called at the surgeon's tent to inquire for her son, and he had told her that all the sick had been sent to washington, he having forgotten for the moment, the exception with regard to her son. the first words i heard were spoken in the most touching manner--"oh, why did you send away my boy? i wrote you i was coming; oh, why did you send him away!" i shall never forget the expression of that mother's face as she stood there wringing her hands and repeating the question. we very soon rectified the mistake which the surgeon had made, and in a few moments she was kneeling by the bedside of her darling boy, and we returned rejoicing that it had been our privilege to "deliver him to his mother." oh, how many, who come to washington in search of loved ones, are caused unnecessary pain, yes, weeks of torturing suspense and fruitless search, in consequence of some little mistake on the part of a surgeon, a nurse, or some person who is supposed to know just where the sought for are to be found. the th of july dawned bright and clear, and everything being in readiness, the army of the potomac took up its line of march for manassas. in gay spirits the army moved forward, the air resounding with the music of the regimental bands, and patriotic songs of the soldiers. no gloomy forebodings seemed to damp the spirits of the men, for a moment, but "on to richmond," was echoed and re-echoed, as that vast army moved rapidly over the country. i felt strangely out of harmony with the wild, joyous spirit which pervaded the troops. as i rode slowly along, watching those long lines of bayonets as they gleamed and flashed in the sunlight, i thought that many, very many, of those enthusiastic men who appeared so eager to meet the enemy, would never return to relate the success or defeat of that splendid army. even if victory should perch upon their banners, and i had no doubt it would, yet many noble lives must be sacrificed ere it could be obtained. the main column reached fairfax toward evening and encamped for the night. col. r.'s wife of the second ----, mrs. b. and myself were, i think, the only three females who reached fairfax that night. the day had been extremely hot, and not being accustomed to ride all day beneath a burning sun, we felt its effects very sensibly, and consequently, hailed with joy the order to encamp for the night. notwithstanding the heat and fatigue of the day's march, the troops were in high spirits, and immediately began preparing supper. some built fires while others went in search of, and appropriated, every available article which might in any way add to the comfort of hungry and fatigued men. the whole neighborhood was ransacked for milk, butter, eggs, poultry, etc. which were found insufficient in quantity to supply the wants of such a multitude. there might have been heard some stray shots fired in the direction of a field where a drove of cattle were quietly grazing; and soon after the odor of fresh steak was issuing from every part of the camp. i wish to state, however, that all "raids" made upon hen-coops, etc. were contrary to the orders of the general in command, for during the day i had seen men put under arrest for shooting chickens by the roadside. i was amused to hear the answer of a hopeful young darkey cook, when interrogated with regard to the broiled chickens and beef steak which he brought on for supper. col. r. demanded, in a very stern voice, "jack, where did you get that beef steak and those chickens?" "massa, i'se carried dem cl'ar from washington; thought i'd cook 'em 'fore dey sp'il'd"; and then added, with a broad grin, "i aint no thief, i aint." col. r. replied: "that will do, jack, you can go now." then the colonel told us how he had seen jack running out of a house, as he rode along, and a woman ran out calling after him with all her might, but jack never looked behind him, but escaped as fast as he could, and was soon out of sight. said he, "i thought the young rascal had been up to some mischief, so i rode up and asked the woman what was the matter, and found he had stolen all her chickens; i asked her how much they were worth; she "reckoned" about two dollars. i think she made a pretty good hit, for after i paid her, she told me she had had only two chickens." supper being over, pickets posted, and camp guards detailed, all became quiet for the night. early the next morning the reveille beat, the whole camp was soon in motion, and after a slight breakfast from our haversacks the march was resumed. the day was very hot, and we found great difficulty in obtaining water, the want of which caused the troops much suffering. many of the men were sun-struck, and others began to drop out of the ranks from exhaustion. all such as were not able to march were put into ambulances and sent back to washington. toward noon, the tedium of the march began to be enlivened by sharp volleys of musketry, in the direction of the advance guard; but those alarms were only occasioned by our skirmishers, pouring a volley into everything which looked as if it might contain a masked battery, or a band of the enemy's sharpshooters. considerable excitement prevailed throughout the day, as we were every hour in expectation of meeting the enemy. carefully feeling its way, however, the army moved steadily on, investigating every field, building, and ravine, for miles in front and to the right and left, until it reached centerville, where we halted for the night. the troops now began to feel the effects of the march, and there was evidently a lack of that pic-nic hilarity which had characterized them the day before. several regiments had been supplied with new shoes the day before leaving camp, and they found by sad experience, that they were not the most comfortable things to march in, as their poor blistered feet testified; in many cases their feet were literally raw, the thick woolen stockings having chafed the skin off. mrs. b. and i, having provided ourselves before leaving camp, with a quantity of linen, bandages, lint, ointment, etc. found it very convenient now, even before a shot had been fired by the enemy. our surgeons began to prepare for the coming battle, by appropriating several buildings and fitting them up for the wounded--among others the stone church at centerville--a church which many a soldier will remember, as long as memory lasts. late that evening as i was returning from this church, accompanied by mr. and mrs. b., i proposed that we should walk through the entire camp to see how the boys were employed, on this, the eve of their first battle. we found many engaged in writing by the glimmering light of the camp-fire--soldiers always carry writing materials on a march; some were reading their bibles, perhaps with more than usual interest; while others sat in groups, conversing in low earnest tones; but the great mass were stretched upon the ground, wrapped in their blankets, fast asleep, and all unconscious of the dangers of the morrow. we were about to return to our quarters in a log cabin built by the rebel soldiers, and which had been evacuated only a few days previous, when we heard several voices singing in a little grove not far from camp. we turned and walked toward the grove, until we could hear distinctly, the words of the following beautiful hymn: "o, for a faith that will not shrink, though press'd by every foe, that will not tremble on the brink of any earthly woe; that will not murmur or complain beneath the chastening rod, but, in the hour of grief and pain, will lean upon its god; a faith that shines more bright and clear when tempests rage without; that, when in danger, knows no fear, in darkness knows no doubt." "ah!" exclaimed mr. b., "i recognize willie l.'s voice there. i understand now; this is willie's prayer meeting night, and notwithstanding the fatigue of the march and blistered feet, he has not forgotten it." we drew nearer to listen to and enjoy the exercises unperceived, for no sooner had the last words of the hymn died away on the still midnight air, than willie's clear voice rose in prayer, filling the grove with its rich, pathetic tones. he prayed for victory on the morrow, for his comrades, for loved ones at home, and his voice grew tremulous with emotion, as he plead with the saviour to comfort and support his widowed mother, if he should fall in battle. then followed a practical talk about being faithful soldiers of jesus, as well as of their beloved country; of the necessity of being prepared at any moment, to lay down the cross and take up the crown. one after another prayed and spoke, until about a dozen--and that included the whole number present--had addressed the throne of grace, and testified to the power of the gospel of christ in the salvation of sinners. no one was called upon to pray or speak, no one said he had nothing to say and then talked long enough to prove it, no one excused his inability to interest his brethren, and no time was lost by delay, but every one did his duty, and did it promptly. we retired feeling refreshed and encouraged. after ascertaining the position of the enemy, gen. mcdowell ordered forward three divisions, commanded by heintzelman, hunter and tyler, miles being left in reserve at centerville. sunday morning before dawn, those three divisions moved forward, presenting a magnificent spectacle, as column after column wound its way over the green hills and through the hazy valleys, with the soft moonlight falling on the long lines of shining steel. not a drum or bugle was heard during the march, and the deep silence was only broken by the rumbling of artillery, the muffled tread of infantry, or the low hum of thousands of subdued voices. the divisions separated where three roads branch off toward bull run, each taking the road leading to its respective position. soon the morning broke bright and clear, bringing the two contending armies in plain sight of each other. the enemy was posted on heights that rose in regular slopes from the shore crowned here and there by earthworks. the woods that interfered with his cannon ranges had all been cut away, and his guns had a clean sweep of every approach. on our side the descent was more gradual, and covered with a dense forest. the roar of artillery soon announced that the battle had actually commenced. mrs. b. and myself took our position on the field, according to orders, in connection with gen. heintzelman's division, having delivered our horses to jack for safe keeping, with strict orders to remain where he was, for we might require them at any moment. i imagine now, i see mrs. b., as she stood there, looking as brave as possible, with her narrow brimmed leghorn hat, black cloth riding habit, shortened to walking length by the use of a page, a silver-mounted seven-shooter in her belt, a canteen of water swung over one shoulder and a flask of brandy over the other, and a haversack with provision, lint, bandages, adhesive plaster, etc. hanging by her side. she was tall and slender, with dark brown hair, pale face, and blue eyes. chaplain b. sat upon his horse looking as solemn as if standing face to face with the angel of death. the first man i saw killed was a gunner belonging to col. r.'s command. a shell had burst in the midst of the battery, killing one and wounding three men and two horses. mr. b. jumped from his horse, hitched it to a tree, and ran forward to the battery; mrs. b. and i following his example as fast as we could. i stooped over one of the wounded, who lay upon his face weltering in his blood; i raised his head, and who should it be but willie l. he was mortally wounded in the breast, and the tide of life was fast ebbing away; the stretchers were soon brought, and he was carried from the field. seeing the disaster from a distance, col. r. rode up to the battery, and as he was engaged in giving orders, a solid shot came whizzing by in such close proximity to his head, that it stunned him for a moment; but soon recovering, he turned up the side of his head and shrugged his shoulders, a peculiarity of his, and in his usual nasal twang, said, "rather close quarters," and rode away, apparently as unconcerned as if it had been a humming bird which crossed his path. but not content with admonishing the colonel, the same shot struck my poor little flask of brandy which lay near me on a drum-head, shattering it as spitefully as if sent by the combined force of the order of "good templars." now the battle began to rage with terrible fury. nothing could be heard save the thunder of artillery, the clash of steel, and the continuous roar of musketry. oh, what a scene for the bright sun of a holy sabbath morning to shine upon! instead of the sweet influences which we associate with the sabbath--the chiming of church bells calling us to the house of prayer, the sabbath school, and all the solemn duties of the sanctuary, there was confusion, destruction and death. there was no place of safety for miles around; the safest place was the post of duty. many that day who turned their backs upon the enemy and sought refuge in the woods some two miles distant, were found torn to pieces by shell, or mangled by cannon ball--a proper reward for those who, insensible to shame, duty, or patriotism, desert their cause and comrades in the trying hour of battle, and skulk away cringing under the fear of death. chapter iii. water for the wounded--col. cameron killed--scenes on the battle-field--burnside's brigade--capture of griffin's and rickett's batteries--rebels reinforced--the panic and retreat--the wounded at centerville--my reconnoissance--an insane woman on the field--hiding from the enemy--return to the wounded--expectation of capture--escape from the rebels--my walk to alexandria--footsore and weary--arrival in washington--letters from dead soldiers' friends. i was hurried off to centerville, a distance of seven miles, for a fresh supply of brandy, lint, etc. when i returned, the field was literally strewn with wounded, dead and dying. mrs. b. was nowhere to be found. had she been killed or wounded? a few moments of torturing suspense and then i saw her coming toward me, running her horse with all possible speed, with about fifty canteens hanging from the pommel of her saddle. to all my inquiries there was but one answer: "don't stay to care for the wounded now; the troops are famishing with thirst and are beginning to fall back." mr. b. then rode up with the same order, and we three started for a spring a mile distant, having gathered up the empty canteens which lay strewn on the field. this was the nearest spring; the enemy knew it, and consequently had posted sharpshooters within rifle range to prevent the troops being supplied with water. notwithstanding this, we filled our canteens, while the minnie balls fell thick and fast around us, and returned in safety to distribute the fruits of our labor among the exhausted men. we spent three hours in this manner, while the tide of battle rolled on more fiercely than before, until the enemy made a desperate charge on our troops driving them back and taking full possession of the spring. chaplain b.'s horse was shot through the neck and bled to death in a few moments. then mrs. b. and i dismounted and went to work again among the wounded. not long afterwards col. cameron, brother of the secretary of war, came dashing along the line, shouting, "come on boys, the rebels are in full retreat." the words had scarcely been uttered when he fell, pierced to the heart by a bullet. surgeon p. was on the ground in an instant, but nothing could be done for him; his wound was mortal, and he soon ceased to breathe. there was no time to carry off the dead; we folded his arms across his breast, closed his eyes, and left him in the cold embrace of death. still the battle continues without cessation; the grape and canister fill the air as they go screaming on their fearful errand; the sight of that field is perfectly appalling; men tossing their arms wildly calling for help; there they lie bleeding, torn and mangled; legs, arms and bodies are crushed and broken as if smitten by thunder-bolts; the ground is crimson with blood; it is terrible to witness. burnside's brigade is being mown down like grass by the rebel batteries; the men are not able to stand that terrible storm of shot and shell; they begin to waver and fall back slowly, but just at the right moment capt. sykes comes up to their relief with his command of regulars. they sweep up the hill where burnside's exhausted, shattered brigade still lingers, and are greeted with a shout of joy, such as none but soldiers, who are almost overpowered by a fierce enemy, and are reinforced by their brave comrades, can give. onward they go, close up to the cloud of flame and smoke rolling from the hill upon which the rebel batteries are placed--their muskets are leveled--there is a click, click--a sheet of flame--a deep roll like that of thunder, and the rebel gunners are seen to stagger and fall. the guns become silent, and in a few moments are abandoned. this seems to occasion great confusion in the rebel ranks. regiments were scattered, and officers were seen riding furiously and shouting their orders, which were heard above the roar and din of battle. captain griffin's and rickett's batteries are ordered forward to an eminence from which the rebels have been driven. they come into position and open a most destructive fire which completely routs the enemy. the battle seems almost won and the enemy is retreating in confusion. hear what rebel gen. johnson says of his prospects at that time, in his official report: "the long contest against a powerful enemy, and heavy losses, especially of field officers, had greatly discouraged the troops of gen. bee and col. evans. the aspect of affairs was critical." another writes: "fighting for hours under a burning sun, without a drop of water, the conduct of our men could not be excelled; but human endurance has its bounds, and all seemed about to be lost." this goes to prove that it was a desperately hard fought battle on both sides, and if no fresh troops had been brought into the field, the victory would assuredly have been ours. but just as our army is confident of success, and is following up the advantage which it has gained, rebel reinforcements arrive and turn the tide of battle. two rebel regiments of fresh troops are sent to make a flank movement in order to capture griffin's and rickett's batteries. they march through the woods, reach the top of the hill, and form a line so completely in our rear as to fire almost upon the backs of the gunners. griffin sees them approach, but supposes them to be his supports sent by major barry. however looking more intently at them, he thinks they are rebels, and turns his guns upon them. just as he is about to give the order to fire, major b. rides up shouting, "they are your supports, don't fire." "no, sir, they are rebels," replied capt. griffin. "i tell you, sir, they are your supports," said major b. in obedience to orders the guns were turned again, and while in the act of doing so, the supposed supports fired a volley upon the gunners. men and horses went down in an instant. a moment more and those famous batteries were in the hands of the enemy. the news of this disaster spread along our lines like wildfire; officers and men were alike confounded; regiment after regiment broke and ran, and almost immediately the panic commenced. companies of cavalry were drawn up in line across the road, with drawn sabers, but all was not sufficient to stop the refluent tide of fugitives. then came the artillery thundering along, drivers lashing their horses furiously, which greatly added to the terror of the panic stricken thousands crowded together en masse. in this manner we reached centerville where order was in some measure restored. mrs. b. and i made our way to the stone church around which we saw stacks of dead bodies piled up, and arms and legs were thrown together in heaps. but how shall i describe the scene within the church at that hour. oh, there was suffering there which no pen can ever describe. one case i can never forget. it was that of a poor fellow whose legs were both broken above the knees, and from the knees to the thighs they were literally smashed to fragments. he was dying; but oh, what a death was that. he was insane, perfectly wild, and required two persons to hold him. inflammation had set in, and was rapidly doing its work; death soon released him, and it was a relief to all present as well as to the poor sufferer. i went to another dying one who was bearing patiently all his sufferings. oh, poor pale face! i see it now, with its white lips and beseeching eyes; and then the touching inquiry, "do you think i'll die before morning?" i told him i thought he would, and asked: "has death any terrors for you?" he smiled that beautiful trusting smile which we sometimes see on the lips of the dying saint, as he replied: "oh no, i shall soon be asleep in jesus"; and then in a low plaintive voice he repeated the verse commencing, asleep in jesus, blessed sleep. while i stood beside him thus, someone tapped me on the shoulder. on turning round i was beckoned to the side of one who was laid in a corner, on the floor, with his face toward the wall. i knelt beside him and asked: "what can i do for you, my friend?" he opened his eyes, with an effort, and said, "i wish you to take that," pointing to a small package which lay beside him, "keep it until you get to washington, and then, if it is not too much trouble, i want you to write to mother and tell her how i was wounded, and that i died trusting in jesus." then i knew that i was kneeling beside willie l. he was almost gone--just ready "to lay down the cross and take up the crown." he signed to me to come nearer; and as i did so, he put his hand to his head and tried to separate a lock of hair with his fingers, but his strength failed; however, i understood that he wished me to cut off a lock to send to his mother with the package. when he saw that i understood him he seemed pleased that his last request was complied with. chaplain b. came and prayed with him, and while he was praying, the happy spirit of willie returned to him who gave it. heaven gained in this instance another soul, but there was mourning in that widowed mother's heart. i thought, oh, how appropriate were the words of the poet to that lonely mother: not on the tented field, o terror-fronted war! not on the battle-field, all thy bleeding victims are; but in the lowly homes where sorrow broods like death, and fast the mother's sobs rise with each quick-drawn breath. that dimmed eye, fainting close-- and she may not be nigh! 'tis mothers die--o god! 'tis but we mothers die. our hearts and hands being fully occupied with such scenes as these, we thought of nothing else. we knew nothing of the true state of affairs outside, nor could we believe it possible when we learned that the whole army had retreated toward washington, leaving the wounded in the hands of the enemy, and us, too, in rather an unpleasant situation. i could not believe the stern truth, and was determined to find out for myself. consequently i went back to the heights, where i had seen the troops stack their guns and throw themselves upon the ground at night-fall, but no troops were there. i thought then that they had merely changed their position, and that by going over the field i should certainly find them. i had not gone far before i saw a camp fire in the distance. supposing that i had found a clue to the secret, i made all haste toward the fire; but as i drew near i saw but one solitary figure sitting by it, and that was the form of a female. upon going up to her i recognised her as one of the washerwomen of our army, i asked her what she was doing there and where the army had gone. said she: "i don't know anything about the army; i am cooking my husband's supper, and am expecting him home every minute; see what a lot of things i have got for him," pointing to a huge pile of blankets, haversacks and canteens which she had gathered up, and over which she had constituted herself sentinel. i soon found out that the poor creature had become insane. the excitement of battle had proved too much for her, and all my endeavors to persuade her to come with me were unavailing. i had no time to spare, for i was convinced that the army had really decamped. once more i started in the direction of centerville. i had not gone more than a few rods before i heard the clatter of horses' hoofs. i stopped, and looking in the direction of the fire i had just quitted, i saw a squad of cavalry ride up to the woman who still sat there. fortunately i had no horse to make a noise or attract attention, having left mine at the hospital with the intention of returning immediately. it was evident to my mind that those were the enemy's cavalry, and that it was necessary for me to keep out of sight if possible until they were gone. then the thought came to me that the woman at the fire knew no better than to tell them that i had been there a few minutes before. happily, however, i was near a fence, against which there were great piles of brush, and as the night was becoming very dark and it was beginning to rain, i thought i could remain undetected, at least until morning. my suspicions proved to be correct. they were coming toward me, and compelling the woman to come and show them the direction i had taken; i decided to crawl under one of those brush heaps, which i did, and had scarcely done so, when up they came and stopped over against the identical pile in which i was concealed. one of the men said "see here old woman, are you sure that she can tell us if we find her?" "oh, yes, she can tell you, i know she can," was the woman's reply. they would go away a little distance and then come back again; by and by they began to accuse the woman of playing a false game; then they swore, threatened to shoot her, and she began to cry. all this was an interesting performance i admit; but i did not enjoy it quite so much, in consequence of being rather uncomfortably near the performers. at last they gave it up as a hopeless case and rode away taking the woman with them, and i was left in blissful ignorance of the mystery which they wished me to unravel, and for once in my life i rejoiced at not having my "curiosity" gratified. i remained there until the last echo of their retreating footsteps had died away in the distance; then i came forth very cautiously and made my way to centerville, where the interesting intelligence awaited me that mr. and mrs. b. had gone, and had taken my horse, supposing that i had been taken prisoner. the village of centerville was not yet occupied by the rebels, so that i might have made my escape without any further trouble; but how could i go and leave those hospitals full of dying men, without a soul to give them a drink of water? i must go into that stone church once more, even at the risk of being taken prisoner. i did so--and the cry of "water," "water," was heard above the groans of the dying. chaplain b. had told them before leaving that they would soon be in the hands of the enemy--that the army had retreated to washington, and that there was no possibility of removing the wounded. there they lay, calmly awaiting the approach of their cruel captors, and apparently prepared to accept with resignation any fate which their cruelty might suggest. oh, how brave those men were! what moral courage they possessed! nothing but the grace of god and a right appreciation of the great cause in which they had nobly fought, and bled, could reconcile them to such suffering and humiliation. they all urged me to leave them, and not subject myself to the barbarous treatment which i would be likely to receive if i should be taken prisoner, adding--"if you do stay the rebels will not let you do anything for us." one of the men said: "dr. e. has only been gone a little while--he extracted three balls from my leg and arm, and that, too, with his pen-knife. i saw twenty-one balls which he had taken from the limbs of men in this hospital. he was determined to remain with us, but we would not consent, for we knew he would not be allowed to do any more for us after the rebels came; and you must go too, and go very soon or they will be here." after placing water within the reach of as many as could use their arms, and giving some to those who could not--i turned to leave them, with feelings that i cannot describe; but ere i reached the door a feeble voice called me back--it was that of a young officer from massachusetts; he held in his hand a gold locket, and as he handed it to me he said--"will you please to open it?" i did so, and then held it for him to take a last look at the picture which it contained. he grasped it eagerly and pressed it to his lips again and again. the picture was that of a lady of rare beauty, with an infant in her arms. she seemed scarcely more than a child herself; on the opposite side was printed her name and address. while he still gazed upon it with quivering lip, and i stood there waiting for some tender message for the loved ones, the unmistakable tramp of cavalry was heard in the street--a moment more, and i had snatched the locket from the hands of the dying man and was gone. the streets were full of cavalry, but not near enough to discover me, as the night was exceedingly dark and the rain came down in torrents. one glance was sufficient to convince me that i could not escape by either street. the only way was to climb a fence and go across lots, which i immediately did, and came out on the fairfax road about a mile from the village, and then started for washington on the "double quick." i did not reach alexandria until noon the next day--almost exhausted, and my shoes literally worn off my feet. having walked all the way from centerville in the rain, without food, together with want of sleep and the fatigue of the past week, caused me to present rather an interesting appearance. i remained there two days before i could persuade my limbs to bear the weight of my body. i then made my way to washington, where i found my friends quite anxious lest i had fallen into the hands of the enemy. a number of men from whom i had received packages, money, etc., before going into battle, and who reached washington two days before i did, had come to the conclusion that they had taken a pretty sure way of sending those precious things to richmond, and therefore my arrival was rather an important event, and i was greeted with a hearty welcome. my first duty was to attend to those dying soldiers' requests, which i did immediately by writing to their friends and inclosing the articles which i had received from the hands of those loved ones who were now cold in death. the answers to many of those letters lie before me while i write, and are full of gratitude and kind wishes. one in particular i cannot read without weeping. it is from willie's mother. the following are a few extracts: "oh, can it be that my willie will return to me no more? shall i never see my darling boy again, until i see him clothed in the righteousness of christ--thank god i shall see him then--i shall see him then." now with all the mother's heart torn and quivering with the smart, i yield him, 'neath the chastening rod, to my country and my god. "oh, how i want to kiss those hands that closed my darling's eyes, and those lips which spoke words of comfort to him in a dying hour. the love and prayers of a bereaved mother will follow you all through the journey of life." yes, he is gone to return to her no more on earth, but her loss is his eternal gain. servant of god well done! rest from thy loved employ; the battle fought, the victory won, enter thy master's joy. he at least had won a victory--notwithstanding the defeat of the federal army. yes, a glorious victory. chapter iv. washington after bull run--demoralization of the army--sick soldiers--hospital scenes--extracts from my journal--sympathy of soldiers--fishing for the sick--a fish-loving dutchman--reorganization of the army--a visit to the pickets--picket duties and dangers--the army inactive--mcclellan's address--marching orders again--embarkation of the army for fortress monroe--the crowded transports--descriptions of the monitor--her build and armament--her turret and engines. washington at that time presented a picture strikingly illustrative of military life in its most depressing form. to use the words of captain noyes--"there were stragglers sneaking along through the mud inquiring for their regiments, wanderers driven in by the pickets, some with guns and some without, while every one you met had a sleepy, downcast appearance, and looked as if he would like to hide his head from all the world." every bar-room and groggery seemed filled to overflowing with officers and men, and military discipline was nearly, or quite, forgotten for a time in the army of the potomac. while washington was in this chaotic condition, the rebel flag was floating over munson's hill, in plain sight of the federal capital. when general mcclellan took command of the army of the potomac, he found it in a most lamentable condition, and the task of reorganizing and disciplining such a mass of demoralized men was a herculean one. however, he proved himself equal to the task, and i think, that even his enemies are willing to admit, that there is no parallel case in history where there has been more tact, energy and skill displayed in transforming a disorganized mob into an efficient and effective army; in fact, of bringing order out of confusion. the hospitals in washington, alexandria and georgetown were crowded with wounded, sick, discouraged soldiers. that extraordinary march from bull run, through rain, mud, and chagrin, did more toward filling the hospitals than did the battle itself. i found mrs. b. in a hospital, suffering from typhoid fever, while chaplain b. was looking after the temporal and spiritual wants of the men with his usual energy and sympathy. he had many apologies to offer "for running away with my horse," as he termed it. there were many familiar faces missing, and it required considerable time to ascertain the fate of my friends. many a weary walk i had from one hospital to another to find some missing one who was reported to have been sent to such and such a hospital; but after reading the register from top to bottom i would find no such name there. perhaps on my way out, in passing the open door of one of the wards, who should i see, laid upon a cot, but the very object of my search, and upon returning to the office to inform the steward of the fact, i would find that it was a slight mistake; in registering the name; instead of being josiah phelps, it was joseph philips; only a slight mistake, but such mistakes cause a great deal of trouble sometimes. measels, dysentery and typhoid fever were the prevailing diseases after the retreat. after spending several days in visiting the different hospitals, looking after personal friends, and writing letters for the soldiers who were not able to write for themselves, i was regularly installed in one of the general hospitals. i will here insert an extract from my journal: "aug. d, . georgetown, d. c. have been on duty all day. john c. is perfectly wild with delirium, and keeps shouting at the top of his voice some military command, or, when vivid recollections of the battle-field come to his mind, he enacts a pantomime of the terrible strife--he goes through the whole manual of arms as correctly as if he were in the ranks; and as he, in imagination, loads and fires in quick succession, the flashing of his dying eye and the nervous vigor of his trembling hands give fearful interest to the supposed encounter with the enemy. when we tell him the enemy has retreated, he persists in pursuing; and throwing his arms wildly around him he shouts to his men--'come on and fight while there is a rebel left in virginia!' my friend lieut. m. is extremely weak and nervous, and the wild ravings of j. c. disturb him exceedingly. i requested surgeon p. to have him removed to a more quiet ward, and received in reply--'this is the most quiet ward in the whole building.' there are five hundred patients here who require constant attention, and not half enough nurses to take care of them. "oh, what an amount of suffering i am called to witness every hour and every moment. there is no cessation, and yet it is strange that the sight of all this suffering and death does not affect me more. i am simply eyes, ears, hands and feet. it does seem as if there is a sort of stoicism granted for such occasions. there are great, strong men dying all around me, and while i write there are three being carried past the window to the dead room. this is an excellent hospital--everything is kept in good order, and the medical officers are skillful, kind and attentive." the weary weeks went slowly by, while disease and death preyed upon the men, and the "soldiers' cemetery" was being quickly filled with new made graves. the kindness of the soldiers toward each other is proverbial, and is manifested in various ways. it is a common thing to see soldiers stand guard night after night for sick comrades--and when off duty try, to the utmost of their skill, to prepare their food in such a way as to tempt the appetite of those poor fellows whom the surgeons "do not consider sufficiently ill to excuse from duty;" but their comrades do, and do not hesitate to perform their duty and their own also. and when brought to camp hospital, helpless, worn down by disease, and fever preying upon their vitals--those brave and faithful comrades do not forsake them, but come several times every day to inquire how they are, and if there is anything they can do for them. and it is touching to see those men, with faces bronzed and stern, tenderly bending over the dying, while the tears course down their sunburnt cheeks. there is scarcely a soldier's grave where there is not to be seen some marks of this noble characteristic of the soldier--the tastefully cut sod, the planted evergreen, the carefully carved head-board, all tell of the affectionate remembrance of the loved comrade. you will scarcely find such strong and enduring friendship--such a spirit of self-sacrifice, and such noble and grateful hearts, as among the soldiers. i think this is one reason why the nurses do not feel the fatigue of hospital duty more than they do; the gratitude of the men seems to act as a stimulant, and the patient, uncomplaining faces of those suffering men almost invariably greet you with a smile. i used to think that it was a disgrace for any one, under ordinary circumstances, to be heard complaining, when those mutilated, pain-racked ones bore everything with such heroic fortitude. i was not in the habit of going among the patients with a long, doleful face, nor intimating by word or look that their case was a hopeless one, unless a man was actually dying, and i felt it to be my duty to tell him so. cheerfulness was my motto, and a wonderful effect it had sometimes on the despondent, gloomy feelings of discouraged and homesick sufferers. i noticed that whenever i failed to arouse a man from such a state of feeling, it generally proved a hopeless case. they were very likely not to recover if they made up their minds that they must die, and persisted in believing that there was no alternative. there were a great many pleasant things in connection with our camp hospital duties. i really enjoyed gratifying some of the whims and strange fancies of our poor convalescent boys, with whom i had become quite a favorite. as i would pass along through the hospital in the morning, i would generally have plenty of assistants in helping to make out my programme for the day. for one i had to write letters, read some particular book to another, and for a third i must catch some fish. i remember on one occasion of an old dutchman, a typhoid convalescent, declaring that he could eat nothing until he could get some fresh fish, and of course i must procure them for him. "but," said i, "the doctor must be consulted; perhaps he will not think it best for you to have any fish yet, until you are stronger." "vell, i dusn't care for te toctor--he dusn't know vat mine appetite ish--te feesh i must have. oh, mine cot! i must have some feesh." and the old man wept like a child at the thought of being disappointed. "hunter's creek" was about a mile and a half from camp, where mr. and mrs. b. and i had spent many an hour fishing and shooting at the flocks of wild ducks which frequented it; so, after providing myself with hook, line and bait, i made my way to the creek. soon after i commenced operations i drew up a monstrous eel, which defied all my efforts to release the hook from its jaws. at last i was obliged to draw it into camp by means of the line--and i was amply repaid for my trouble on seeing the delight of the convalescents, and especially of my old dutchman, who continued to slap his hands together and say--"dhat ish coot--dhat ish coot." the eel was handed over to the cook to be prepared for dinner, and to the great satisfaction of the dutchman he was permitted to enjoy a portion of it. the army under mcclellan began to assume a warlike aspect--perfect order and military discipline were observed everywhere among the soldiers. it was a splendid sight to see those well drilled troops on dress-parade--or being reviewed by their gallant young commander, upon whose shoulders the "stars" sat with so much grace and dignity. the monotony of camp life began to be broken up by armed reconnoissances and skirmishing between the pickets. our lines were pushed forward to lewinsville on the right, and to munson's hill in front. the pickets of both armies were posted in plain sight of each other, only separated by the beautiful corn-fields and peach-orchards. picket firing was kept up all along the lines on both sides, notwithstanding that flags of truce had been sent in by both parties, several times, requesting that this barbarous practice might cease. as soon as mrs. b. was so far recovered as to be able to ride, we started one day, accompanied by mr. b. and dr. e., for munson's hill, to see the pickets on duty. we rode along until we came within a short distance of the rifle pits where our men were, when the rebels fired upon us. we turned and rode back until we came to a clump of trees, where we dismounted, hitched our horses, and proceeded the rest of the way on foot--part of the way having to crouch along on our hands and knees, in order to escape the bullets which were whistling above us. we reached the rifle pits in safety, which were close to a rail fence, the rails of which were perfectly riddled with minnie balls. while we sat there looking through an opera-glass, whiz! came a ball and struck the rail against which my head rested; glancing, it passed through dr. e.'s cap and lodged in the shoulder of one of the men. we remained there until the firing ceased, then returned to camp, carrying with us the wounded man. picket duty is one of the most perilous and trying duties connected with the service. a clergyman-soldier writing upon this subject, briefly describes it: "picket duty at all times is arbitrary, but at night it is trebly so. no monarch on a throne, with absolute power, is more independent, or exercises greater sway for the time being, than a private soldier stationed on his beat with an enemy in front. darkness veils all distinctions. he is not obliged to know his own officers or comrades, or the commanding general, only through the means of the countersign. with musket loaded and capped he walks his rounds, having to do with matters only of life and death, and at the same time clothed with absolute power. it is a position of fearful importance and responsibility, one that makes a man feel solemn and terribly in earnest. often, too, these posts are in thick woods, where the soldier stands alone, cut off from camp, cut off from his fellows, subject only to the harrassings of his own imagination and sense of danger. the shadows deepen into inky night; all objects around him, even the little birds that were his companions during the day, are gathered within the curtains of a hushed repose; but the soldier, with every nerve and faculty of his mind strained to the utmost tension of keenness and sensibility, speaks only in whispers; his fingers tighten round the stock of his musket as he leans forward to catch the sound of approaching footsteps, or, in absence of danger, looks longingly up to the cold, grey sky, with its wealth of shining stars." yes, the picket is exposed to danger constantly, and to various kinds of danger. he knows not what moment a lurking foe may spring upon him from the darkness, or a bullet from a scout or sharpshooter may reach him at any time. then, too, he is exposed to the raging elements--heat and cold, rain and snow; no matter whether in the depths of the forest, or in the open plain, or in the rifle-pit standing in water knee deep, the poor picket must not heed the storm, but keep both eyes and ears open to catch the slightest sound. after severe marches, when the men are greatly fatigued, and it seems almost impossible to perform any more duty without rest and sleep, some, of course, are sent on picket duty, while the rest are permitted to sleep. oh, how my heart has ached for those men; and it seemed to me that the persons and regiments in which i was most interested always had the most picket duty to perform. on the th of march general mcclellan issued an address to the army of the potomac, announcing the reasons why they had been so long unemployed. the battle of bull run was fought in july, . it was now march, , and during this interval the army of the potomac, numbering some two hundred and fifty thousand men, had been inactive, excepting their daily drills behind their entrenchments. the flags of the enemy were in sight. washington was in a state of siege, and not a transport could ascend the river without running the gauntlet of the rebel batteries. in his address general mcclellan announced the reasons for their inactivity as follows: "soldiers of the army of the potomac: for a long time i have kept you inactive, but not without a purpose. you were to be disciplined, armed and instructed. the formidable artillery you now have had to be created. other armies were to move and accomplish certain results. i have held you back that you might give the death-blow to the rebellion that has distracted our once happy country. the patience you have shown, and your confidence in your general, are worth a dozen victories. these preliminary results are now accomplished. i feel that the patient labors of many months have produced their fruit. the army of the potomac is now a real army, magnificent in material, admirable in discipline and instruction, excellently equipped and armed. your commanders are all that i could wish. the moment for action has arrived, and i know that i can trust in you to save our country. the period of inaction has passed. i will bring you now face to face with the rebels, and only pray that god may defend the right." marching orders were issued once more to the army of the potomac. the sick were sent off, camps broken up, and all stood prepared for another encounter with the enemy. the bitter remembrance of the defeat at bull run still rankled in the minds of the men, and now they were anxious for an opportunity to retaliate upon the foe, and win back the laurels they had so ingloriously lost upon that disastrous field. various speculations were indulged in with regard to their destination. one prophesied that they were going to richmond by way of fredericksburg, another was positive that they were to go by the way of manassas, and a third declared that it was down the shenandoah valley to take richmond on the flank and rear; but, to the utter astonishment of all, they were ordered to alexandria to embark for fortress monroe. regiment after regiment was huddled together on board until every foot of room was occupied, and there remained but little prospect of comfort for either officers or men. as soon as each transport received its cargo of men, horses and provisions, it floated out into the stream, while another steamed up to the wharf in its place, until the whole fleet lay side by side, freighted with over a hundred thousand human lives, and awaiting the signal to weigh anchor. the troops were eager for a campaign; they had lain inactive so long, while "victory" thundered all around them, that they were becoming impatient to strike another blow at rebellion, and blot out the remembrance of the past. roanoke, pea ridge, newbern, winchester and donelson--were a succession of victories which had been achieved, and the army of the potomac had not participated in them. the men felt this, and were prepared for anything but inactivity. everything being in readiness, the signal was given, and the whole fleet was soon moving in the direction of fortress monroe, with the stars and stripes floating from every mast-head, and the music of national airs awakening the slumbering echoes as we swiftly glided over the quiet waters of the potomac. the first real object of interest which presented itself was the "monitor" lying off fortress monroe. it reminded me of what i once heard a man say to his neighbor about his wife; said he, "neighbor, you might worship your wife without breaking either of the ten commandments." "how is that?" asked the man; "because she is not the likeness of anything in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth." so thought i of the monitor. there she sat upon the water a glorious impregnable battery, the wonder of the age, the terror of rebels, and the pride of the north. the monitor is so novel in structure that a minute description will be necessary to convey an accurate idea of her character. "she has two hulls. the lower one is of iron, five-eighths of an inch thick. the bottom is flat, and six feet six inches in depth--sharp at both ends, the cut-water retreating at an angle of about thirty degrees. the sides, instead of having the ordinary bulge, incline at an angle of about fifty-one degrees. this hull is one hundred and twenty-four feet long, and thirty-four feet broad at the top. resting on this is the upper hull, flat-bottomed, and both longer and wider than the lower hull, so that it projects over in every direction, like the guards of a steamboat. it is one hundred and seventy-four feet long, forty-one feet four inches wide, and five feet deep. these sides constitute the armor of the vessel. in the first place is an inner guard of iron, half an inch thick. to this is fastened a wall of white oak, placed endways, and thirty inches thick, to which are bolted six plates of iron, each an inch thick, thus making a solid wall of thirty-six and a half inches of wood and iron. this hull is fastened upon the lower hull, so that the latter is entirely submerged, and the upper one sinks down three feet into the water. thus but two feet of hull are exposed to a shot. the under hull is so guarded by the projecting upper hull, that a ball, to strike it, would have to pass through twenty-five feet of water. the upper hull is also pointed at both ends. the deck comes flush with the top of the hull, and is made bomb-proof. no railing or bulwark rises above the deck. the projecting ends serve as a protection to the propeller, rudder and anchor, which cannot be struck. neither the anchor or chain is ever exposed. the anchor is peculiar, being very short, but heavy. it is hoisted into a place fitted for it, outside of the lower hull, but within the impenetrable shield of the upper one. on the deck are but two structures rising above the surface, the pilot-house and turret. the pilot-house is forward, made of plates of iron, the whole about ten inches in thickness, and shot-proof. small slits and holes are cut through, to enable the pilot to see his course. the turret, which is apparently the main feature of the battery, is a round cylinder, twenty feet in interior diameter, and nine feet high. it is built entirely of iron plates, one inch in thickness, eight of them securely bolted together, one over another. within this is a lining of one-inch iron, acting as a damper to deaden the effects of a concussion when struck by a ball--thus there is a shield of nine inches of iron. the turret rests on a bed-plate, or ring, of composition, which is fastened to the deck. to help support the weight, which is about a hundred tons, a vertical shaft, ten inches in diameter, is attached and fastened to the bulk-head. the top is made shot-proof by huge iron beams, and perforated to allow of ventilation. it has two circular port-holes, both on one side of the turret, three feet above the deck, and just large enough for the muzzle of the gun to be run out. the turret is made to revolve, being turned by a special engine. the operator within, by a rod connected with the engine, is enabled to turn it at pleasure. it can be made to revolve at the rate of sixty revolutions a minute, and can be regulated to stop within half a degree of a given point. when the guns are drawn in to load, the port-hole is stopped by a huge iron pendulum, which falls to its place, and makes that part as secure as any, and can be quickly hoisted to one side. the armament consists of two eleven-inch dahlgren guns. various improvements in the gun-carriage enable the gunner to secure almost perfect aim. "the engine is not of great power, as the vessel was designed as a battery, and not for swift sailing. it being almost entirely under water, the ventilation is secured by blowers, drawing the air in forward, and discharging it aft. a separate engine moves the blowers and fans the fires. there is no chimney, so the draft must be entirely artificial. the smoke passes out of gratings in the deck. many suppose the monitor to be merely an iron-clad vessel, with a turret; but there are, in fact, between thirty and forty patentable inventions upon her, and the turret is by no means the most important one. very properly, what these inventions are is not proclaimed to the public." chapter v. arrival at fortress monroe--the village of hampton--visiting the contrabands--arrival of fugitives--a real "camp meeting"--feeding the negroes--camp miseries--mules--miss periwinkle's mules--the coquettish, the moral, the histrionic, and the pathetic mule--our jack--lines of love--my box and presents--a three-story cake--a serenade and surprise party--good and bad chaplains--the morals of the army--slanders about soldiers. we arrived at fortress monroe in a drenching rain, immediately disembarked, and proceeded at once to hampton--formerly a beautiful little village containing about five hundred houses, many of them elegant brick buildings, but which now lay a blackened mass of ruins, having been burned a few months previous by order of rebel general magruder. the village was about three miles from fortress monroe, and situated on the west side of a creek, or arm of the sea, called hampton river, the yorktown road passing directly through its center. it was a great relief to the troops to disembark from the filthy, crowded transports, notwithstanding they had to march through the mud and rain, and then pitch their tents on the wet ground. fires were soon built, coffee made, and nice fresh bread served out, which was brought to us by the commissary department at the fort. as mrs. b. and i had a little respite at this particular juncture, we set about visiting the contrabands. they occupied a long row of board buildings near the fort. the men were employed in loading and unloading government vessels, and the women were busily engaged in cooking and washing. no language can describe the joy of these men and women at being liberated from bondage. as the jews of old were looking for the promised messiah, so the slaves universally regarded the advent of the northern army as the harbinger of their deliverance. mr. a. relates the following anecdote, illustrative of this fact, which took place at the battle of newbern: "a slaveholder, breathless with terror, spurred his horse to his utmost speed past his own house, not venturing to stop. just then a shell, with its terrific, unearthly shriek, rushed through the air over his head. a poor slave, a man of unfeigned piety and fervent prayer, in uncontrollable emotions of joy, ran into his humble cabin, shouting: 'wife, he is running, he is running, and the wrath of god is after him. glory hallelujah! the appointed time has come; we are free, we are free!'" with regard to my own visit to the contraband quarters, i give the following extract from my journal: "visited the contrabands to-day, and was much pleased with their cheerful, happy appearance. they are exceedingly ignorant, yet there is one subject upon which they can converse freely and intelligibly, and that is--christ--the way of salvation. almost all with whom i conversed to-day were praying men and women. oh, how i should like to teach these people! they seem so anxious for instruction, i know they would learn quickly. some of them are whiter and prettier than most of our northern ladies. there is a family here, all of whom have blue eyes, light hair, fair skin and rosy cheeks; yet they are contrabands, and have been slaves. but why should blue eyes and golden hair be the distinction between bond and free?" one bitter, stormy night, about eleven o'clock, a band of these poor fugitives, numbering over forty, presented themselves at the picket line, for admittance to the federal camp, imploring protection. the officer of the picket guard being called, and the case presented, the contrabands were permitted to pass through. but no sooner had their poor torn and bleeding feet touched the federal soil, than they fell upon their knees, and returned thanks to god and to the soldiers for their deliverance. they came into camp about one o'clock in the morning, shouting "glory! glory to god!" notwithstanding the early hour, and the stormy night, the whole camp was aroused; every one rushed out to find out the cause of the excitement. there they were, black as midnight, all huddled together in a little group--some praying, some singing, and others shouting. we had a real "camp meeting" time for a while. soon the exercises changed, and they began to relate their experiences, not only religious experiences, but a brief history of their lives. some were husbands and fathers. their masters had sold them down south, lest they should escape. in their terror they had escaped by night, and fled to the national banner for refuge, leaving all behind that was dear to them. in conclusion, one old man, evidently their leader, stood up and said: "i tell you, my breddern, dat de good lord has borne wid dis yere slav'ry long time wid great patience. but now he can't bore it no longer, no how; and he has said to de people ob de north--go and tell de slaveholders to let de people go, dat dey may sarve me." there were many there who had listened to the old colored man's speech and believed, as i did, that there was more truth than poetry in it. many hearts were moved with sympathy towards them, as was soon proved by the actions of the soldiers. an immense fire was built, around which these poor darkies eagerly gathered, as they were both wet, cold and hungry; then a large camp kettle of coffee was made and set before them, with plenty of bread and meat to satisfy their ravenous appetites--for ravenous they were, not having tasted food for more than two days. then blankets were provided, and they soon became comfortable, and as happy as human beings could be under such circumstances. mrs. b. and i returned to our tents feeling very much like indorsing the sentiment of "will jones' resolve:" resolved, although my brother be a slave, and poor and black, he is my brother still; can i, o'er trampled "institutions," save that brother from the chain and lash, i will. a cold, drizzling rain continued to descend for several days, and our camp became a fair specimen of "virginia mud." i began to feel the effects of the miasma which came floating on every breeze from the adjacent swamps and marshes, and fever and ague became my daily companions for a time. as i sat in my tent, roasting or shivering as the case might be, i took a strange pleasure in watching the long trains of six mule teams which were constantly passing and repassing within a few rods of my tent. as "miss periwinkle" remarks, there are several classes of mules. "the coquettish mule has small feet, a nicely trimmed tail, perked up ears, and seems much given to little tosses of the head, affected skips and prances, and, if he wears bells or streamers, puts on as many airs as any belle. the moral mule is a stout, hardworking creature, always tugging with all his might, often pulling away after the rest have stopped, laboring under the conscientious delusion that food for the entire army depends upon his individual exertions. the histrionic mule is a melo-dramatic sort of quadruped, prone to startle humanity by erratic leaps and wild plunges, much shaking of the stubborn head and lashing of his vicious heels; now and then falling flat, and apparently dying _a la_ forrest, a gasp, a groan, a shudder, etc., till the street is blocked up, the drivers all swearing like so many demons, and the chief actor's circulation becomes decidedly quickened by every variety of kick, cuff and jerk imaginable. when the last breath seems to have gone with the last kick, and the harness has been taken off, then a sudden resurrection takes place. he springs to his feet, and proceeds to give himself two or three comfortable shakes, and if ever mule laughed in scornful triumph it is he, and as he calmly surveys the excited crowd, seems to say: 'a hit! a decided hit!' for once the most stupid of all animals has outwitted more than a dozen of the lords of creation. the pathetic mule is, perhaps, the most interesting of all; for although he always seems to be the smallest, thinnest, and weakest of the six, yet, in addition to his equal portion of the heavy load, he carries on his back a great postillion, with tremendous boots, long tailed coat, and heavy whip. this poor creature struggles feebly along, head down, coat muddy and rough, eye spiritless and sad, and his whole appearance a perfect picture of meek misery, fit to touch a heart of stone. then there is another class of mules which always have a jolly, cheer-up sort of look about them--they take everything good naturedly, from cudgeling to carressing, and march along with a roguish twinkle in their eye which is very interesting." one morning, as i was just recovering from fever and ague, jack, our faithful colored boy, made his appearance at the door of my tent, touching his hat in the most approved military style, and handed me a letter bearing my address, saying, as he did so, "dar's a box at de 'spress office for you. may i run and fotch it?" i said, "oh, yes, jack, you may bring it, but be careful and keep the cover on, there may be chickens in it." jack knew the meaning of that allusion to chickens, and so ran off singing: massa run, ha, ha! darkies stay, ho, ho! it must be now dat de kingdom's cumin in de year ob jubilo. in the meantime i opened my letter, from which i make the following extract: "having learned your address through mrs. l----, whose son was killed at the battle of bull run, we send you a donation in token of our respect and esteem, and of our gratitude for your faithfulness on the field and in the hospital." the following lines were also inclosed: in the ranks of the sick and dying, in the chamber where death-dews fall, where the sleeper wakes from his trances to leap to the bugle-call, is there hope for the wounded soldier? ah, no! for his heart-blood flows, and the flickering flames of life must wane, to fail at the evening's close. oh, thou who goest, like a sunbeam, to lighten the darkness and gloom, make way for the path of glory through the dim and shadowy room; go speak to him words of comfort, and teach him the way to die, with his eyes upraised from the starry flag to the blessed cross on high. and tell him brave hearts are beating with pulses as noble as thine; that we count them at home by the thousands--thou sweetest sister of mine; that they fail not and flinch not from duty while the vials of wrath are outpoured, and tell him to call it not grievous, but joyous to fall by the sword. when the hosts of the foe are outnumbered, and the day of the lord is at hand, shall we halt in the heat of the battle, and fail at the word of command? oh, no! through the trouble and anguish, by the terrible pathway of blood, we must bear up the flag of our freedom, on--on through the perilous flood. and if one should be brought faint and bleeding, though wounded, yet not unto death, oh plead with the soft airs of heaven to favor his languishing breath; be faithful to heal and to save him, assuaging the fever and pains, till the pulse in his strong arm be strengthened and the blood courses free in his veins. while mrs. b. and i were speculating with regard to the contents of the box, jack's woolly head reappeared in the doorway, and the subject of our curiosity was before us. "dar it be, and mity heavy, too; guess it mus' be from ----." so saying, young hopeful disappeared. the box was soon opened, its contents examined and commented upon. first came a beautiful silk and rubber reversible cloak, which could be folded into such a small compass that it could be put into an ordinary sized pocket, and a pair of rubber boots. then came a splendid silver-mounted revolver, belt and miniature cartridge-box. but the greatest piece of perfection i ever saw came in the shape of a "housewife;" it was lined and covered with oil silk, and my name printed on it in gilt letters, above which was an eagle, and below was the following inscription: "a thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee." then came pocket-handkerchiefs, gloves, and other articles too numerous to mention. but last, not least, was found in the bottom, stowed away in one corner, two bottles of the best currant wine, a nice jar of jelly, and a large loaf of cake, frosted and mottoed in fine style. this cake was certainly a great curiosity. it was a three-story cake, with three doors made to slide back by gently pulling a bell-handle which was made of rosettes of red, white and blue ribbon. to the first bell-cord was attached a splendid gold ring, to the second a ten dollar gold piece, and to the third and last a small sized hunting cased gold watch and chain. at such revelations i began to feel as if my humble tent had become an enchanted palace, and that all i should have to do in future would be to rub that mysterious ring, and the genii would appear, ready to supply all my wants. we then commenced to divide the spoil, mrs. b. positively asserting that she had no right to any part of the donation, and i telling her that in all probability it was all intended for her, and through one of those "slight mistakes" it was directed to me. the news of this wonderful box soon spread through camp, and the result was that we had a surprise party as soon as evening came, chaplain b. taking the opportunity of making some very appropriate remarks on the occasion. then came the band to serenade us, and the consequence was that our cake and wine disappeared with our numerous friends, for we found that all were willing to obey the scriptural injunction, "take a little wine," etc. chaplain b. is a very worthy, zealous, faithful minister, and i have spoken very highly of him, but perhaps in doing so i have given the impression that all chaplains are good and faithful. i am very sorry to state that it is not so. there are some who have no fitness for their work, and some a disgrace to their profession. i think i am safe in saying that one bad chaplain will do more harm in a regiment than a hundred good men can counteract. if there is any place on earth where faithful ministers are needed more than another, it is in the army--it is in the hospital. but may god have mercy upon those who go there, whose object is dollars and cents--who neglect their duty, and fill the places which should be occupied by christ-like heralds of the cross who love the souls of their fellow men. i think the words of the saviour are particularly applicable to some of the chaplains of the army when he says: "woe unto you hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men," etc. i have conversed with many in the army upon the subject of religion, who told me that the conduct of certain chaplains had more influence in keeping them away from the saviour than all the combined forces of the evil one. such chaplains are there through political influence, regardless of qualifications. some persons have tried very hard to get up the general belief that the army is terribly demoralized in its best estate, and all who go there must inevitably plunge into vice; but a greater slander was never propagated. there is, undoubtedly, vice in the army; but where is there a city or community throughout the north where vice is not to be found? notwithstanding the tide of moral and religious influence which is daily brought to bear against it. although the outer man appears rough, and much drunkenness and other evils exist in the army, yet there is much that is pure, lovely, and of good report in the character of both officers and men. "i can speak of that i do know, and testify of that which i have seen," and i am free to say that i think the morals of the majority of the men are quite as good, if not better than you will find among the same number at home, made up of all classes as we find them in the army. it is true many have backslidden since they left home; but is equally true that _very_ many have been reformed, and are now better men than when they enlisted. every day's history proves that there are thousands of noble hearted, pure minded christians in our army, and none but traitors and infidels, the enemies of god and man, will deny this fact. chapter vi. the march to yorktown--scarcity of supplies--camp cookery--different characters in the army--arrival of trains--change of camp--trying to shell us out--the old saw-mill--a constant target--assaults on our outposts--a rebel appeal--yorktown and vicinity--the situation--balloon reconnoissances--prof. lowe on high--rebel vixens--a curious visit--a strange hostess--she tries to kill me--i wound her and capture a prisoner--a conversion--the secesh woman becomes a federal nurse. on to richmond once more resounded through the camp, and the army was again in motion. the yorktown road is one long to be remembered, especially by those who that day had to toil through its mud and mire, or, by making a mis-step, fall into one of the yawning chasms from which some unfortunate mule had been drawn. the rain had continued almost all the time we were encamped at hampton, "saturating the clayey soil, which soon became a vast bed of mortar under the artillery trains." the distance from hampton to yorktown is about twenty-three miles, and it required all the determination and energy of veterans to march half that distance in a day. with two days' rations in their haversacks, the men marched until they arrived in front of yorktown, where they bivouacked on the ground, over which the water was running like a flood. we remained three days in that condition, and it was the first time i ever saw anything like scarcity of food in the army. it was scarce indeed, for we were only supplied with two days' rations on starting from hampton. the fifth day had arrived, but no provisions had yet appeared, and it seemed morally impossible to get a supply train over the road. mile after mile of corduroy bridge had to be made before a team dare venture to approach. our horses, too, were as badly off for forage as the men were for provisions. on the fifth day, with several others, i received permission to go out and buy what we could at the houses anywhere within three miles of our encampment. after procuring a quantity of biscuit, pies, and corn bread, we returned to camp, and were quite surprised to find the boys engaged in cutting up and cooking fresh steak. we thought, of course, our provisions had arrived, but found that it was only a little dash they had just made upon the "chivalry's" cattle, appropriating them to their own use with a sort of earnestness which seemed to say, i firmly believe in the old proverb, _aide toi, et le ciel t'aidera_. oh, what a place the army is for the study of human nature! as i looked around upon that mass of busy men, i thought i could discover almost every trait in the human character depicted upon their countenances. there was the selfish man, only intent upon serving himself, and fearing there would not enough come to his share to satisfy his wants; then there was old churlish nabal away by himself building a fire for his own especial benefit, and which "no man dare approach unto," no, not within baking, broiling, or roasting distance, not even to get a coal to kindle one for himself. but that class of character, thank heaven, was a very small minority. there, too, was the cheerful, happy man, who had been several hours engaged in cutting up and serving out to others, and had no lot or part in the broiled steaks which were smoking around him; yet he looked as good natured as if he had dined on roast beef and plum pudding. then there was another phase of character--one who always made it the first duty, under all circumstances, to look after those who were not able to look after themselves. while the little trials of camp life have a tendency to harden and sour the dispositions of some, they seem to bring to light and develop the cheerful, happy, unselfish spirit of others. one has truthfully said that "there is no other quality so diffusive of joy, both to him who possesses it and to those with whom he has friendly intercourse, as cheerfulness. it is the phase of a soul sitting in its own sunshine. there are luminous planets which are viewed by the aid of their own light, others there are which are seen through borrowed light. so it is with individuals. there seem to be some who have scarcely any light of their own, and who shine by the reflection of the light of others; while others there are who possess an intrinsic and inexhaustible source of sunshine, which renders them not only self-illuminating, but capable of irradiating those around them. many are cheerful when a sparkling rill of pleasure is gurgling in their hearts, or when prosperity encircles them, or looms up gorgeously in their prospective vision. but few are cheerful when adversity casts its gloomy shadows around them; when sorrow and disappointment dry up their fountains of pleasure and wither their hopes. in such crises cheerfulness is an independent virtue, and in others an accidental mood." the despondency of the few was soon removed, and the patience and cheerfulness of the many rewarded by the arrival of the provision and baggage trains. we then exchanged our camp for one in a more pleasant locality, where there was more wood and not quite so much water, which added much to the comfort of the troops. the enemy soon found out our position, and did not fail to inform us of the fact by frequently saluting us with an immense shell, or thirty-two pound cannon ball, which would burst over our heads or fall within a few rods--often within a few feet--of our tents. we remained in that camp just one month, and, notwithstanding the enemy shelled us night and day, i never saw a man or beast injured by shot or shell in camp while we remained there. i presume many of my readers will remember seeing or hearing of the old saw-mill which stood near a peach orchard, and which the soldiers persisted in running, to the great annoyance of the rebels. that old saw-mill deserves to be immortalized in song as well as in history; and if it stood in any other than a christian land, it would undoubtedly become an object of idolatry. there it stood, in perfect range of the enemy's batteries, a target at which they never seemed tired of firing, while our brave soldiers risked their lives in sawing lumber for the purpose of laying board floors in the hospital tents, to secure some degree of comfort, for their poor sick comrades. time after time the mill was set on fire by the explosion of shells as they passed through it, but up would go some brave young hero, and stand in the very jaws of death while his companions would hand him bucket after bucket of water to quench the flames. as soon as the fire was extinguished the men resumed their labor, and the old mill steamed away with all its might, as if proud of the "stars and stripes" which waved from its summit, and of being permitted to show its patriotism and zeal for the glorious cause of freedom by working for good old "uncle sam" and his noble sons. then it would give vent to its pent up wrath in hisses and shrieks, bidding proud defiance to jeff. davis and his minions, who were trying in vain to stop its humane and patriotic efforts. for more than three weeks those brave men kept the steam up in that mill, until their object was accomplished, having to stop almost every half hour to repair the ravages of shot and shell. notwithstanding the constant fire of the rebel batteries, the dilapidated appearance of the mill from its effects, and the danger of the situation, yet not a man was killed in or about it, and not one wounded, to my knowledge. i remember one day of passing the mill in a great hurry--and it was well that i was in a hurry, for i had scarcely rode by it when i heard a terrific crash close at hand, which made my horse leap from the ground with terror. upon turning round i saw that a part of the smoke stack had been carried away, and the mill was on fire. i rode up to the door and inquired if any one was killed or injured; no, not a man was hurt, and the fire was soon subdued by the vigorous efforts of those sturdy soldiers, who looked as jolly over the disaster as if it had really been a good joke. the rebels were beginning to make some desperate assaults upon our outposts; they were driving in the advance pickets on our left wing, and making similar demonstrations along different parts of the line. they were evidently concentrating a large force behind their fortifications, and were determined to make a desperate resistance. deserters came in bringing richmond papers crowded with appeals to the southern "chivalry," of which the following is a specimen: "the next few days may decide the fate of richmond. it is either to remain the capital of the confederacy, or to be turned over to the federal government as a yankee conquest. the capital is either to be secured or lost--it may be feared not temporarily, and with it virginia. then, if there is blood to be shed, let it be shed here; no soil of the confederacy could drink it up more acceptably, and none would hold it more gratefully. wife, family, and friends are nothing. leave them all for one glorious hour to be devoted to the republic. life, death, and wounds are nothing if we only be saved from the fate of a captured and humiliated confederacy. let the government act; let the people act. there is time yet. if fate comes to its worst, let the ruins of richmond be its most lasting monument." general mcclellan's despatch to the war department will best describe the state of affairs at this time in yorktown and vicinity; he says: "the whole line of the warwick, which really heads within a mile of yorktown, is strongly defended by detached redoubts and other fortifications, armed with heavy and light guns. the approaches, except at yorktown, are covered by the warwick, over which there is but one, or at most, two passages, both of which are covered by strong batteries. all the prisoners state that general j. e. johnson arrived at yorktown yesterday, with strong reinforcements. it seems clear that i shall have the whole force of the enemy on my hands--probably not less than one hundred thousand men, and possibly more. "under the circumstances which have been developed since we arrived here, i feel fully impressed with the conviction that here is to be fought the great battle that is to decide the existing contest. i shall of course commence the attack as soon as i can get up my siege train, and shall do all in my power to carry the enemy's works; but to do this, with a reasonable degree of certainty, requires, in my judgment, that i should, if possible, have at least the whole of the first corps to land upon the severn river and attack gloucester in the rear. my present strength will not admit of a detachment sufficient for this purpose without materially impairing the efficiency of this column." while these preparations were going forward on both sides, professor lowe was making balloon reconnoissances, and transmitting the result of his observations to general mcclellan by telegraph from his castle in the air, which seemed suspended from the clouds, reminding one of the fabled gods of old looking down from their ethereal abodes upon the conflicts of the inhabitants of this mundane sphere. one of the officers one day playfully remarked: "professor, i am always sorry when i see you descend with your balloon." "why are you sorry, colonel? would you wish to see me suspended between heaven and earth all the time?" "oh, no, not that; but when i see you coming down i am afraid you will never get so near heaven again." i was often sent out to procure supplies for the hospitals, butter, eggs, milk, chickens, etc., and in my rambles i used to meet with many interesting adventures. in some instances i met with narrow escapes with my life, which were not quite so interesting; and the timely appearance of my revolver often rescued me from the hands of the female rebels of the peninsula. persons dwelling in regions which slavery has not debased can hardly imagine the malice and ferocity manifested by the rebel vixens of the slave states. upon this point the testimony from all parts of the south is invariable. the louisville journal says: "thousands have read with astonishment the account which historians give of the conduct of women in paris during the reign of terror. the women are said to have been more fierce and bloodthirsty than even the fiercest and most bloodthirsty of the men. many of our people have supposed that the accounts given of those things must surely be fictions or exaggerations. they have felt themselves unable to conceive that woman's nature could become a thing so utterly revolting. but if they will look and listen in this region, at the present time, they will find that they have no further reason for incredulity or scepticism. the bitter and ferocious spirit of thousands of rebel women in kentucky, tennessee, and other states, is scarcely, if at all, surpassed by the female monsters that shrieked and howled for victims in the french revolution." i will here relate a little incident illustrative of the peculiarity of my adventures while on this catering business: one morning i started, all alone, for a five mile ride to an isolated farm-house about three miles back from the hampton road, and which report said was well supplied with all the articles of which i was in search. i cantered along briskly until i came to a gate which opened into a lane leading directly to the house. it was a large old fashioned two-story house, with immense chimneys built outside, virginia style. the farm appeared to be in good condition, fences all up, a rare thing on the peninsula, and corn-fields flourishing as if there were no such thing as war in the land. i rode up to the house and dismounted, hitched my horse to a post at the door, and proceeded to ring the bell. a tall, stately lady made her appearance, and invited me in with much apparent courtesy. she was dressed in deep mourning, which was very becoming to her pale, sad face. she seemed to be about thirty years of age, very prepossessing in appearance, and evidently belonged to one of the "f. f. v's." as soon as i was seated she inquired: "to what fortunate circumstance am i to attribute the pleasure of this unexpected call?" i told her in a few words the nature of my business. the intelligence seemed to cast a deep shadow over her pale features, which all her efforts could not control. she seemed nervous and excited, and something in her appearance aroused my suspicion, notwithstanding her blandness of manner and lady-like deportment. she invited me into another room, while she prepared the articles which she proposed to let me have, but i declined, giving as an excuse that i preferred to sit where i could see whether my horse remained quiet. i watched all her movements narrowly, not daring to turn my eyes aside for a single moment. she walked round in her stately way for some time, without accomplishing much in the way of facilitating my departure, and she was evidently trying to detain me for some purpose or other. could it be that she was meditating the best mode of attack, or was she expecting some one to come, and trying to detain me until their arrival? thoughts like these passed through my mind in quick succession. at last i rose up abruptly, and asked her if the things were ready. she answered me with an assumed smile of surprise, and said: "oh, i did not know that you were in a hurry: i was waiting for the boys to come and catch some chickens for you." "and pray, madam, where are the boys?" i asked; "oh, not far from here," was her reply. "well, i have decided not to wait; you will please not detain me longer," said i, as i moved toward the door. she began to pack some butter and eggs both together in a small basket which i had brought with me, while another stood beside her without anything in it. i looked at her; she was trembling violently, and was as pale as death. in a moment more she handed me the basket, and i held out a greenback for her acceptance; "oh, it was no consequence about the pay;" she did not wish anything for it. so i thanked her and went out. in a few moments she came to the door, but did not offer to assist me, or to hold the basket, or anything, but stood looking at me most maliciously, i thought. i placed the basket on the top of the post to which my horse had been hitched, took my seat in the saddle, and then rode up and took my basket. turning to her i bade her good morning, and thanking her again for her kindness, i turned to ride away. i had scarcely gone a rod when she discharged a pistol at me; by some intuitive movement i threw myself forward on my horse's neck and the ball passed over my head. i turned my horse in a twinkling, and grasped my revolver. she was in the act of firing the second time, but was so excited that the bullet went wide of its mark. i held my seven-shooter in my hand, considering where to aim. i did not wish to kill the wretch, but did intend to wound her. when she saw that two could play at this game, she dropped her pistol and threw up her hands imploringly. i took deliberate aim at one of her hands, and sent the ball through the palm of her left hand. she fell to the ground in an instant with a loud shriek. i dismounted, and took the pistol which lay beside her, and placing it in my belt, proceeded to take care of her ladyship after the following manner: i unfastened the end of my halter-strap and tied it painfully tight around her right wrist, and remounting my horse, i started, and brought the lady to consciousness by dragging her by the wrist two or three rods along the ground. i stopped, and she rose to her feet, and with wild entreaties she begged me to release her, but, instead of doing so, i presented a pistol, and told her that if she uttered another word or scream she was a dead woman. in that way i succeeded in keeping her from alarming any one who might be within calling distance, and so made my way toward mcclellan's headquarters. [illustration: catering for hospitals.--page .] after we had gone in that way about a mile and a half, i told her that she might ride if she wished to do so, for i saw she was becoming weak from loss of blood. she was glad to accept the offer, and i bound up her hand with my handkerchief, gave her my scarf to throw over her head, and assisted her to the saddle. i marched along beside her, holding tight to the bridle rein all the while. when we were about a mile from mcclellan's headquarters she fainted, and i caught her as she was falling from the horse. i laid her by the roadside while i went for some water, which i brought in my hat, and after bathing her face for some time she recovered. for the first time since we started i entered into conversation with her, and found that within the last three weeks she had lost her father, husband, and two brothers in the rebel army. they had all belonged to a company of sharpshooters, and were the first to fall. she had been almost insane since the intelligence reached her. she said i was the first yankee that she had seen since the death of her relatives, the evil one seemed to urge her on to the step she had taken, and if i would not deliver her up to the military powers, she would go with me and take care of the wounded. she even proposed to take the oath of allegiance, and seemed deeply penitent. "if thy brother (or sister) sin against thee, and repent, forgive him," are the words of the saviour. i tried to follow their sacred teachings there and then, and told her that i forgave her fully if she was only truly penitent. her answer was sobs and tears. soon after this conversation we started for camp, she weak and humbled, and i strong and rejoicing. none ever knew from that day to this the secret of that secesh woman becoming a nurse. instead of being taken to general mcclellan's headquarters, she went direct to the hospital, where dr. p. dressed her hand, which was causing her extreme pain. the good old surgeon never could solve the mystery connected with her hand, for we both refused to answer any questions relating to the wound, except that she was shot by a "yankee," which placed the surgeon under obligations to take care of the patient until she recovered--that is to say as long as it was convenient for him to do so. the next day she returned to her house in an ambulance, accompanied by a hospital steward, and brought away everything which could be made use of in the hospitals, and so took up her abode with us. her name was alice m., but we called her nellie j. she soon proved the genuineness of her conversion to the federal faith by her zeal for the cause which she had so recently espoused. as soon as she was well enough to act in the capacity of nurse she commenced in good earnest, and became one of the most faithful and efficient nurses in the army of the potomac. but that was the first and the only instance of a female rebel changing her sentiments, or abating one iota in her cruelty or hatred toward the "yankees;" and also the only real lady in personal appearance, education and refinement, that i ever met among the females of the peninsula. chapter vii. a lost friend--death of lieutenant james v.--his burial--the grave by night--my vow--a soldier-chaplain--recognitions in heaven--doubts and dissatisfaction--capture of a spy--my examinations at headquarters--my disguise as a spy--i am metamorphosed into a contraband--hired as a cook--biscuit making--the doctor's tea. not long after these events, returning one day from an excursion, i found the camp almost deserted, and an unusual silence pervading all around. upon looking to the right and left to discover the cause of so much quietness, i saw a procession of soldiers slowly winding their way from a peach orchard, where they had just deposited the remains of a comrade. who could it have been? i did not dare to go and meet them to inquire, but i waited in painful suspense until the procession came up, with arms reversed. with sad faces and slow and measured tread they returned in order as they had gone. i stepped forward and inquired whom they had buried. lieutenant james v. was the reply. my friend! they had buried him, and i had not seen him! i went to my tent without uttering a word. i felt as if it could not be possible that what i heard was true. it must be some one else. i did not inquire how, when or where he had been killed, but there i sat with tearless eyes. mr. and mrs. b. came in, she sobbing aloud, he calm and dignified, but with tears slowly rolling down his face. lieutenant v. was thirty-two years of age; he was tall, had black wavy hair, and large black eyes. he was a sincere christian, active in all the duties devolving upon a christian soldier, and was greatly beloved both by officers and men. his loss was deeply felt. his heart, though brave, was tender as a woman's. he was noble and generous, and had the highest regard for truth and law. although gentle and kind to all, yet he had an indomitable spirit and a peculiar courage and daring, which almost amounted to recklessness in time of danger. he was not an american, but was born of english parents, and was a native of st. john, new brunswick. i had known him almost from childhood, and found him always a faithful friend. when we met in the army we met as strangers. the changes which five years had wrought, and the costume which i wore, together with change of name, rendered it impossible for him to recognize me. i was glad that he did not, and took peculiar pleasure in remaining unrecognized. we became acquainted again, and a new friendship sprang up, on his part, for mine was not new, which was very pleasant, at least to me. at times my position became very embarrassing, for i was obliged to listen to a recapitulation of my own former conversations and correspondence with him, which made me feel very much like an eavesdropper. he had neither wife, mother nor sister, and, like myself, was a wanderer from his native land. there was a strong bond of sympathy existing between us, for we both believed that duty called us there, and were willing to lay down even life itself, if need be, in this glorious cause. now he was gone, and i was left alone with a deeper sorrow in my heart than i had ever known before. chaplain b. broke the painful silence by informing me how he had met his fate. he was acting in the capacity of aide-de-camp on general c.'s staff. he was sent to carry an order from headquarters to the officer in command of the outer picket line, and while riding along the line he was struck by a minnie ball, which passed through the temple, killing him instantly. his remains were brought to camp and prepared for their last resting place. without shroud or coffin, wrapped in his blanket, his body was committed to the cold ground. they made his grave under a beautiful pear tree, in full bloom, where he sleeps peacefully, notwithstanding the roar of cannon and the din of battle which peal forth their funeral notes over his dreamless bed. one more buried beneath the sod, one more standing before his god. we should not weep that he has gone; with us 'tis night, with him 'tis morn. night came at last with its friendly mantle, and our camp was again hushed in comparative repose. twelve o'clock came, but i could not sleep. visions of a pale face and a mass of black wavy hair, matted with gore which oozed from a dark purple spot on the temple, haunted me. i rose up quietly and passed out into the open air. the cool night breeze felt grateful to my burning brow, which glowed with feverish excitement. with a hasty word of explanation i passed the camp guard, and was soon beside the grave of lieutenant v. the solemn grandeur of the heavens, the silent stars looking lovingly down upon that little heaped up mound of earth, the death-like stillness of the hour, only broken by the occasional booming of the enemy's cannon, all combined to make the scene awfully impressive. i felt that i was not alone. i was in the presence of that god who had summoned my friend to the eternal world, and the spirit of the departed one was hovering near, although my dim eyes could not penetrate the mysterious veil which hid him from my view. it was there, in that midnight hour, kneeling beside the grave of him who was very dear to me, that i vowed to avenge the death of that christian hero. i could now better understand the feelings of poor nellie when she fired the pistol at me, because i was "one of the hated yankees who was in sympathy with the murderers of her husband, father and brothers." but i could not forgive his murderers as she had done. i did not enjoy taking care of the sick and wounded as i once did, but i longed to go forth and do, as a noble chaplain did at the battle of pittsburg landing. he picked up the musket and cartridge-box of a wounded soldier, stepped into the front rank, and took deliberate aim at one rebel after another until he had fired sixty rounds of cartridge; and as he sent a messenger of death to each heart he also sent up the following brief prayer: "may god have mercy upon your miserable soul." from this time forward i became strangely interested in the fifteenth chapter of first corinthians--the doctrine of the resurrection, and the hope of "recognition of friends in heaven" became very precious to me. for i believe with regard to our departed loved ones, that when safely landed on that heavenly shore where sighings cease and sorrows come no more-- with hearts no more by cruel anguish riven, as we have loved on earth we'll love in heaven. and infinitely more than we are capable of loving here. "few things connected with the great hereafter so deeply concern the heart as the question of personal recognition in heaven. dear ones of earth, linked to our hearts by the most tender ties, have departed and gone away into the unknown realm. we have carefully and tearfully laid their bodies in the grave to slumber till the great awakening morning. if there is no personal recognition in heaven, if we shall neither see nor know our friends there, so far as we are concerned they are annihilated, and heaven has no genuine antidote for the soul's agony in the hour of bereavement. all the precious memories of toil and trial, of conflict and victory, of gracious manifestations and of holy joy, shared with them in the time of our pilgrimage, will have perished forever. the anxiety of the soul with regard to the recognition of our friends in the future state is natural. it springs from the holiest sympathies of the human heart, and any inquiry that may solve our doubts or relieve our anxiety is equally rational and commendable. "tell me, ye who have seen the open tomb receive into its bosom the sacred trust committed to its keeping, in hope of the first resurrection--ye who have heard the sullen rumbling of the clods as they dropped upon the coffin lid, and told you that earth had gone back to earth; when the separation from the object of your love was realized in all the desolation of bereavement, next to the thought that you should ere long see christ as he is and be like him, was not that consolation the strongest which assured you that the departed one, whom god has put from you into darkness, will run to meet you when you cross the threshold of immortality, and, with the holy rapture to which the redeemed alone can give utterance, lead you to the exalted saviour, and with you bow at his feet and cast the conqueror's crown before him? and is this hope vain? shall we not even know those dear ones in the spirit world? was this light of hope that gilded so beautifully the sad, dark hour of human woe, only a mocking _ignis fatuus_, so soon to go out in everlasting darkness? is this affection, so deep, so holy, yearning over its object with undying love, to be nipped in the very bud of its being? nay, it cannot be. there must have been some higher purpose; god could not delight in the bestowal of affections that were to be blighted in their very beginning, and of hopes that were to end only in the mockery of eternal disappointment." if fate unite the faithful but to part, why is their memory sacred to the heart? oh, thank god for faith! for a faith that takes hold of that which is within the veil. there we behold our loved ones basking in the sunshine of the redeemer's love--there they see him face to face, and know as they are known. and they speak to us from the bright eternal world, and bid us weep not at nature's transient pain; congenial spirits part to meet again. just at this crisis i received a letter from a friend of mine at the north, disapproving in strong terms of my remaining any longer in the army, requesting me to give up my situation immediately, and to meet him in washington two weeks from date. i regarded that friend's opinions very much, especially when they coincided with my own; but upon this point no two opinions could differ more widely than did ours. it is true i was becoming dissatisfied with my situation as nurse, and was determined to leave the hospital; but before doing so i thought it best to call a council of three, mr. and mrs. b. and i, to decide what was the best course to pursue. after an hour's conference together the matter was decided in my mind. chaplain b. told me that he knew of a situation he could get for me if i had sufficient moral courage to undertake its duties; and, said he, "it is a situation of great danger and of vast responsibility." that morning a detachment of the thirty-seventh new york had been sent out as scouts, and had returned bringing in several prisoners, who stated that one of the federal spies had been captured at richmond and was to be executed. this information proved to be correct, and we lost a valuable soldier from the secret service of the united states. now it was necessary for that vacancy to be supplied, and, as the chaplain had said with reference to it, it was a situation of great danger and vast responsibility, and this was the one which mr. b. could procure for me. but was i capable of filling it with honor to myself and advantage to the federal government? this was an important question for me to consider ere i proceeded further. i did consider it thoroughly, and made up my mind to accept it with all its fearful responsibilities. the subject of life and death was not weighed in the balance; i left that in the hands of my creator, feeling assured that i was just as safe in passing the picket lines of the enemy, if it was god's will that i should go there, as i would be in the federal camp. and if not, then his will be done: then welcome death, the end of fears. my name was sent in to headquarters, and i was soon summoned to appear there myself. mr. and mrs. b. accompanied me. we were ushered into the presence of generals mc., m. and h., where i was questioned and cross-questioned with regard to my views of the rebellion and my motive in wishing to engage in so perilous an undertaking. my views were freely given, my object briefly stated, and i had passed trial number one. next i was examined with regard to my knowledge of the use of firearms, and in that department i sustained my character in a manner worthy of a veteran. then i was again cross-questioned, but this time by a new committee of military stars. next came a phrenological examination, and finding that my organs of secretiveness, combativeness, etc., were largely developed, the oath of allegiance was administered, and i was dismissed with a few complimentary remarks which made the good mr. b. feel quite proud of his _protege_. this was the third time that i had taken the oath of allegiance to the united states, and i began to think, as many of our soldiers do, that profanity had become a military necessity. i had three days in which to prepare for my debut into rebeldom, and i commenced at once to remodel, transform and metamorphose for the occasion. early next morning i started for fortress monroe, where i procured a number of articles indispensably necessary to a complete disguise. in the first place i purchased a suit of contraband clothing, real plantation style, and then i went to a barber and had my hair sheared close to my head. next came the coloring process--head, face, neck, hands and arms were colored black as any african, and then, to complete my contraband costume, i required a wig of real negro wool. but how or where was it to be found? there was no such thing at the fortress, and none short of washington. happily i found the mail-boat was about to start, and hastened on board, and finding a postmaster with whom i was acquainted, i stepped forward to speak to him, forgetting my contraband appearance, and was saluted with--"well, massa cuff--what will you have?" said i: "massa send me to you wid dis yere money for you to fotch him a darkie wig from washington." "what the ---- does he want of a darkie wig?" asked the postmaster. "no matter, dat's my orders; guess it's for some 'noiterin' business." "oh, for reconnoitering you mean; all right old fellow, i will bring it, tell him." i remained at fortress monroe until the postmaster returned with the article which was to complete my disguise, and then returned to camp near yorktown. on my return, i found myself without friends--a striking illustration of the frailty of human friendship--i had been forgotten in those three short days. i went to mrs. b.'s tent and inquired if she wanted to hire a boy to take care of her horse. she was very civil to me, asked if i came from fortress monroe, and whether i could cook. she did not want to hire me, but she thought she could find some one who did require a boy. off she went to dr. e. and told him that there was a smart little contraband there who was in search of work. dr. e. came along, looking as important as two year old doctors generally do. "well, my boy, how much work can you do in a day?" "oh, i reckon i kin work right smart; kin do heaps o' work. will you hire me, massa?" "don't know but i may; can you cook?" "yes, massa, kin cook anything i ebber seen." "how much do you think you can earn a month?" "guess i kin earn ten dollars easy nuff." turning to mrs. b. he said in an undertone: "that darkie understands his business." "yes indeed, i would hire him by all means, doctor," said mrs. b. "well, if you wish, you can stay with me a month, and by that time i will be a better judge how much you can earn." so saying dr. e. proceeded to give a synopsis of a contraband's duty toward a master of whom he expected ten dollars per month, especially emphasising the last clause. then i was introduced to the culinary department, which comprised flour, pork, beans, a small portable stove, a spider, and a medicine chest. it was now supper time, and i was supposed to understand my business sufficiently to prepare supper without asking any questions whatever, and also to display some of my boasted talents by making warm biscuit for supper. but how was i to make biscuit with my colored hands? and how dare i wash them for fear the color would wash off? all this trouble was soon put to an end, however, by jack's making his appearance while i was stirring up the biscuit with a stick, and in his bustling, officious, negro style, he said: "see here nig--you don't know nuffin bout makin bisket. jis let me show you once, and dat ar will save you heaps o' trouble wid massa doct'r for time to come." i very willingly accepted of this proffered assistance, for i had all the necessary ingredients in the dish, with pork fat for shortening, and soda and cream-tartar, which i found in the medicine chest, ready for kneading and rolling out. after washing his hands and rolling up his sleeves, jack went to work with a flourish and a grin of satisfaction at being "boss" over the new cook. tea made, biscuit baked, and the medicine chest set off with tin cups, plates, etc., supper was announced. dr. e. was much pleased with the general appearance of things, and was evidently beginning to think that he had found rather an intelligent contraband for a cook. chapter viii. my first secret expedition--my work among contrabands--pickaxe, shovel and wheelbarrow--counting the guns in a rebel fortification--a change of work--carrying water to the rebel soldiers--generals lee and johnson--the rebel force at yorktown--a council of war--turning white again--a rebel spy--lieutenant v.'s murderer--on picket duty--my return to our lines--i put on uniform and make my report. after supper i was left to my own reflections, which were anything but pleasant at that time; for in the short space of three hours i must take up my line of march toward the camp of the enemy. as i sat there considering whether it was best for me to make myself known to mrs. b. before i started, dr. e. put his head in at the tent door and said in a hurried manner: "ned, i want you to black my boots to-night; i shall require them early in the morning." "all right, massa doct'r," said i; "i allers blacks de boots over night." after washing up the few articles which had taken the place of dishes, and blacking the doctor's boots, i went to seek an interview with mrs. b. i found her alone and told her who i was, but was obliged to give her satisfactory proofs of my identity before she was convinced that i was the identical nurse with whom she had parted three days previously. my arrangements were soon made, and i was ready to start on my first secret expedition toward the confederate capital. mrs. b. was pledged to secrecy with regard to her knowledge of "ned" and his mysterious disappearance. she was not permitted even to tell mr. b. or dr. e., and i believe she kept her pledge faithfully. with a few hard crackers in my pocket, and my revolver loaded and capped, i started on foot, without even a blanket or anything which might create suspicion. at half-past nine o'clock i passed through the outer picket line of the union army, at twelve o'clock i was within the rebel lines, and had not so much as been halted once by a sentinel. i had passed within less than ten rods of a rebel picket, and he had not seen me. i took this as a favorable omen, and thanked heaven for it. as soon as i had gone a safe distance from the picket lines i lay down and rested until morning. the night was chilly and the ground cold and damp, and i passed the weary hours in fear and trembling. the first object which met my view in the morning was a party of negroes carrying out hot coffee and provisions to the rebel pickets. this was another fortunate circumstance, for i immediately made their acquaintance, and was rewarded for my promptness by receiving a cup of coffee and a piece of corn bread, which helped very much to chase away the lingering chills of the preceding night. i remained there until the darkies returned, and then marched into yorktown with them without eliciting the least suspicion. the negroes went to work immediately on the fortifications after reporting to their overseers, and i was left standing alone, not having quite made up my mind what part to act next. i was saved all further trouble in that direction, for my idleness had attracted the notice of an officer, who stepped forward and began to interrogate me after the following manner: "who do you belong to, and why are you not at work?" i answered in my best negro dialect: "i dusn't belong to nobody, massa, i'se free and allers was; i'se gwyne to richmond to work." but that availed me nothing, for turning to a man who was dressed in citizen's clothes and who seemed to be in charge of the colored department, he said: "take that black rascal and set him to work, and if he don't work well tie him up and give him twenty lashes, just to impress upon his mind that there's no free niggers here while there's a d--d yankee left in virginia." so saying he rode away, and i was conducted to a breast-work which was in course of erection, where about a hundred negroes were at work. i was soon furnished with a pickaxe, shovel, and a monstrous wheelbarrow, and i commenced forthwith to imitate my companions in bondage. that portion of the parapet upon which i was sent to work was about eight feet high. the gravel was wheeled up in wheelbarrows on single planks, one end of which rested on the brow of the breast-work and the other on the ground. i need not say that this work was exceedingly hard for the strongest man; but few were able to take up their wheelbarrows alone, and i was often helped by some good natured darkie when i was just on the verge of tumbling off the plank. all day long i worked in this manner, until my hands were blistered from my wrists to the finger ends. [illustration: disguised as a contraband.--page .] the colored men's rations were different from those of the soldiers. they had neither meat nor coffee, while the white men had both. whiskey was freely distributed to both black and white, but not in sufficient quantity to unfit them for duty. the soldiers seemed to be as much in earnest as the officers, and could curse the yankees with quite as much vehemence. notwithstanding the hardships of the day i had had my eyes and ears open, and had gained more than would counterbalance the day's work. night came, and i was released from toil. i was free to go where i pleased within the fortifications, and i made good use of my liberty. i made out a brief report of the mounted guns which i saw that night in my ramble round the fort, viz.: fifteen three-inch rifled cannon, eighteen four and a half-inch rifled cannon, twenty-nine thirty-two pounders, twenty-one forty-two pounders, twenty-three eight-inch columbiads, eleven nine-inch dahlgrens, thirteen ten-inch columbiads, fourteen ten-inch mortars, and seven eight-inch siege howitzers. this, together with a rough sketch of the outer works, i put under the inner sole of my contraband shoe and returned to the negro quarters. finding my hands would not be in a condition to shovel much earth on the morrow, i began to look round among the negroes to find some one who would exchange places with me whose duty was of a less arduous character. i succeeded in finding a lad of about my own size who was engaged in carrying water to the troops. he said he would take my place the next day, and he thought he could find a friend to do the same the day following, for which brotherly kindness i gave him five dollars in greenbacks; but he declared he could not take so much money--"he neber had so much money in all his life before." so by that operation i escaped the scrutiny of the overseer, which would probably have resulted in the detection of my assumed african complexion. the second day in the confederate service was much pleasanter than the first. i had only to supply one brigade with water, which did not require much exertion, for the day was cool and the well was not far distant; consequently i had an opportunity of lounging a little among the soldiers, and of hearing important subjects discussed. in that way i learned the number of reinforcements which had arrived from different places, and also had the pleasure of seeing general lee, who arrived while i was there. it was whispered among the men that he had been telegraphed to for the purpose of inspecting the yankee fortifications, as he was the best engineer in the confederacy, and that he had pronounced it impossible to hold yorktown after mcclellan opened his siege guns upon it. then, too, general j. e. johnson was hourly expected with a portion of his command. including all, the rebels estimated their force at one hundred and fifty thousand at yorktown and in that vicinity. when johnson arrived there was a council of war held, and things began to look gloomy. then the report began to circulate that the town was to be evacuated. one thing i noticed in the rebel army, that they do not keep their soldiers in the dark as our officers do with regard to the movements and destination of the troops. when an order comes to the federal army requiring them to make some important movement, no person knows whether they are advancing or retreating until they get to washington, or in sight of the enemy's guns, excepting two or three of the leading generals. having a little spare time i visited my sable friends and carried some water for them. after taking a draught of the cool beverage, one young darkie looked up at me in a puzzled sort of manner, and turning round to one of his companions, said: "jim, i'll be darned if that feller aint turnin' white; if he aint then i'm no nigger." i felt greatly alarmed at the remark, but said, very carelessly, "well, gem'in i'se allers 'spected to come white some time; my mudder's a white woman." this had the desired effect, for they all laughed at my simplicity, and made no further remarks upon the subject. as soon as i could conveniently get out of sight i took a look at my complexion by means of a small pocket looking-glass which i carried for that very purpose--and sure enough, as the negro had said, i was really turning white. i was only a dark mulatto color now, whereas two days previous i was as black as cloe. however, i had a small vial of nitrate of silver in weak solution, which i applied to prevent the remaining color from coming off. upon returning to my post with a fresh supply of water, i saw a group of soldiers gathered around some individual who was haranguing them in real southern style. i went up quietly, put down my cans of water, and of course had to fill the men's canteens, which required considerable time, especially as i was not in any particular hurry just then. i thought the voice sounded familiar, and upon taking a sly look at the speaker i recognized him at once as a peddler who used to come to the federal camp regularly once every week with newspapers and stationery, and especially at headquarters. he would hang round there, under some pretext or other, for half a day at a time. there he was, giving the rebels a full description of our camp and forces, and also brought out a map of the entire works of mcclellan's position. he wound up his discourse by saying: "they lost a splendid officer through my means since i have been gone this time. it was a pity though to kill such a man if he was a d--d yankee." then he went on to tell how he had been at headquarters, and heard "lieutenant v." say that he was going to visit the picket line at such a time, and he had hastened away and informed the rebel sharpshooters that one of the headquarter officers would be there at a certain time, and if they would charge on that portion of the line they might capture him and obtain some valuable information. instead of this, however, they watched for his approach, and shot him as soon as he made his appearance. i thanked god for that information. i would willingly have wrought with those negroes on that parapet for two months, and have worn the skin off my hands half a dozen times, to have gained that single item. he was a fated man from that moment; his life was not worth three cents in confederate scrip. but fortunately he did not know the feelings that agitated the heart of that little black urchin who sat there so quietly filling those canteens, and it was well that he did not. on the evening of the third day from the time i entered the camp of the enemy i was sent, in company with the colored men, to carry supper to the outer picket posts on the right wing. this was just what i wished for, and had been making preparations during the day, in view of the possibility of such an event, providing, among other things, a canteen full of whiskey. some of the men on picket duty were black and some were white. i had a great partiality for those of my own color, so calling out several darkies i spread before them some corn cake, and gave them a little whiskey for dessert. while we were thus engaged the yankee minnie balls were whistling round our heads, for the picket lines of the contending parties were not half a mile distant from each other. the rebel pickets do not remain together in groups of three or four as our men do, but are strung along, one in each place, from three to four rods apart. i proposed to remain a while with the pickets, and the darkies returned to camp without me. not long after night an officer came riding along the lines, and seeing me he inquired what i was doing there. one of the darkies replied that i had helped to carry out their supper, and was waiting until the yankees stopped firing before i started to go back. turning to me he said, "you come along with me." i did as i was ordered, and he turned and went back the same way he came until we had gone about fifty rods, then halting in front of a petty officer he said, "put this fellow on the post where that man was shot until i return." i was conducted a few rods farther, and then a rifle was put into my hands, which i was told to use freely in case i should see anything or anybody approaching from the enemy. then followed the flattering remark, after taking me by the coat-collar and giving me a pretty hard shake, "now, you black rascal, if you sleep on your post i'll shoot you like a dog." "oh no, massa, i'se too feerd to sleep," was my only reply. the night was very dark, and it was beginning to rain. i was all alone now, but how long before the officer might return with some one to fill my place i did not know, and i thought the best thing i could do was to make good use of the present moment. after ascertaining as well as possible the position of the picket on each side of me, each of whom i found to be enjoying the shelter of the nearest tree, i deliberately and noiselessly stepped into the darkness, and was soon gliding swiftly through the forest toward the "land of the free," with my splendid rifle grasped tightly lest i should lose the prize. i did not dare to approach very near the federal lines, for i was in more danger of being shot by them than by the enemy; so i spent the remainder of the night within hailing distance of our lines, and with the first dawn of morning i hoisted the well known signal and was welcomed once more to a sight of the dear old stars and stripes. i went immediately to my tent. mrs. b. was delighted at my return; she was the only person in camp who knew me. jack was sent to the quartermaster's with an order for a new suit of soldier's clothes. when he saw they were for me, on his return, he said: "hi! dat darkie tinks he's some. guess he don't cook no more for massa doct'r." after removing as much of the color as it was possible for soap and water to do, my complexion was a nice maroon color, which my new costume showed off to good advantage. had my own mother seen me then, it would have been difficult to convince her of our relationship. i made out my report immediately and carried it to general mcclellan's headquarters, together with my trophy from the land of traitors. i saw general g. b., but he did not recognize me, and ordered me to go and tell a. to appear before him in an hour from that time. i returned again to my tent, chalked my face, and dressed in the same style as on examination day, went at the hour appointed, and received the hearty congratulations of the general. the rifle was sent to washington, and is now in the capitol as a memento of the war. do my friends wish to know how i felt in such a position and in such a costume? i will tell them. i felt just as happy and as comfortable as it was possible for any one to be under similar circumstances. i am naturally fond of adventure, a little ambitious and a good deal romantic, and this together with my devotion to the federal cause and determination to assist to the utmost of my ability in crushing the rebellion, made me forget the unpleasant items, and not only endure, but really enjoy, the privations connected with my perilous positions. perhaps a spirit of adventure was important--but _patriotism_ was the grand secret of my success. being fatigued, and the palms of both my hands in raw flesh, i thought it best to wait a few days before setting out upon another adventure. while i was thus situated i made a point of becoming acquainted with nellie, my rebel captive. she was trying to make herself useful in the hospital, notwithstanding her hand was very painful--often waiting upon those who were suffering less than she was herself. her pale, pensive face and widow's weeds seemed to possess peculiar attractions for doctor e., and her hand was a bond of mutual sympathy between them, and afforded many pretexts for a half hour's conversation. chapter ix. evacuation of yorktown--our army on the double quick--pursuit of the fugitives--the enemy's works--a battle--on the field--a "wounded," and not injured colonel--carrying the wounded--fort magruder silenced--the victory won--burying the dead--story of a ring--wounded rebels--a brave young sergeant--christian soldiers--a soldier's death-bed--closing scenes--last words. the next day the continuous roar of cannon all along the lines of the enemy was kept up incessantly. "nor did it cease at night, for when darkness settled over the encampment, from the ramparts that stretched away from yorktown there were constant gushes of flame, while the heavy thunder rolled far away in the gloom." a little after midnight the cannonading ceased, and a strange silence rested upon hill and valley. the first dawn of day which broke peacefully over the landscape discovered to the practiced eye of professor lowe that the entrenchments of the enemy were deserted; the rebels had abandoned their stronghold during the night and had fled toward richmond. the news spread throughout the federal army like lightning; from right to left and from center to circumference the entire encampment was one wild scene of joy. music and cheering were the first items in the programme, and then came the following order: "commandants of regiments will prepare to march with two days' rations, with the utmost dispatch. leave, not to return." at about eight o'clock in the morning our advance guard entered yorktown. there were nearly one hundred guns of different kinds and calibers and a large quantity of ammunition. the road over which the fugitive army passed during the night was beat up into mortar, knee deep, and was strewn with fragments of army wagons, tents and baggage. the federal troops were in excellent spirits, and pushed on after the retreating army almost on the double quick. in this manner they kept up the pursuit until toward evening, when the cavalry came up with the rear-guard of the enemy about two miles from williamsburg, where a sharp skirmish followed. night came on and firing ceased; the rebels were behind their entrenchments, and our army bivouaced for the night. the cavalry and artillery forces were under command of general stoneman; generals heintzelman, hooker and smith were in command of the advance column of infantry, while generals kearney, couch and casey brought up the rear. the enemy's works were four miles in extent, nearly three-fourths of their front being covered by the tributaries of queen's creek and college creek. the main works were a large fortification, called fort magruder, and twelve redoubts for field guns. the woods around and inside of those works were felled, and the ground was thickly dotted with rifle pits. the battle commenced the next morning at half-past seven o'clock. general hooker began the attack. the enemy were heavily reinforced, and made a desperate resistance. hooker lost a great number of men and five pieces of artillery before kearney, couch or casey came up. the roads were a perfect sea of mud, and now it was raining in torrents. the roar of battle sounded all along the lines; the thunder of cannon and the crash of musketry reverberated through the woods and over the plain, assuring the advancing troops that their companions were engaged in deadly strife. the thick growth of heavy timber was felled in all directions, forming a splendid ambush for the rebel sharpshooters. the federals moved forward in the direction of the enemy's works, steadily, firmly, through ditch and swamp, mud and mire, loading and firing as they went, and from every tree, bush and covert, which could conceal a man, the rebels poured a deadly fire into the ranks of our advancing troops. i was glad now that i had postponed my second visit to the enemy, for there was plenty of work for me to do here, as the ghastly faces of the wounded and dying testified. i was subject to all kinds of orders. one moment i was ordered to the front with a musket in my hands; the next to mount a horse and carry an order to some general, and very often to take hold of a stretcher with some strong man and carry the wounded from the field. i remember one little incident in connection with my experience that day which i shall never forget, viz.: colonel ---- fell, and i ran to help put him on a stretcher and carry him to a place of safety, or where the surgeons were, which was more than i was able to do without overtaxing my strength, for he was a very heavy man. a poor little stripling of a soldier and myself carried him about a quarter of a mile through a terrific storm of bullets, and he groaning in a most piteous manner. we laid him down carefully at the surgeon's feet, and raised him tenderly from the stretcher, spread a blanket and laid him upon it, then lingered just a moment to see whether the wound was mortal. the surgeon commenced to examine the case; there was no blood to indicate where the wound was, and the poor sufferer was in such agony that he could not tell where it was. so the surgeon examined by piecemeal until he had gone through with a thorough examination, and there was not even a scratch to be seen. doctor e. straightened himself up and said, "colonel, you are not wounded at all; you had better let these boys carry you back again." the colonel became indignant, and rose to his feet with the air of an insulted hero and said: "doctor, if i live to get out of this battle i'll call you to account for those words;" to which doctor e. replied with decision, "sir, if you are not with your regiment in fifteen minutes i shall report you to general h." i turned and left the spot in disgust, mentally regretting that the lead or steel of the enemy had not entered the breast of one who seemed so ambitious of the honor without the effect. as i returned to my post i made up my mind in future to ascertain whether a man was wounded or not before i did anything for him. the next i came to was captain wm. r. m., of the ---- michigan. his leg was broken and shattered from the ankle to the knee. as we went to lift him on a stretcher he said: "just carry me out of range of the guns, and then go back and look after the boys. mc---- and l. have fallen, and perhaps they are worse off than i am." oh how glad i was to hear those words from his lips. it confirmed the opinion i had formed of him long before; he was one of my first acquaintances in the army, and, though he was a strict disciplinarian, i had watched his christian deportment and kind and affectionate manner toward his men with admiration and interest. i believed him noble and brave, and those few words on the battle-field at such a moment spoke volumes for that faithful captain's heroism and love for his men. the battle was raging fiercely, the men were almost exhausted, the rebels were fighting like demons, and were driving our troops back step by step, while the space between the two lines was literally covered with dead and wounded men and horses. one tremendous shout from the federals rent the air and fairly shook the earth. we all knew in an instant, as if by intuition, what called forth such wild cheers from that weary and almost overpowered army. "kearney!" was shouted enthusiastically along the federal lines, while the fresh troops were hurled like thunderbolts upon the foe. one battery after another was taken from the enemy, and charge after charge was made upon their works, until the tide of battle was turned, fort magruder silenced, and the stars and stripes were floating in triumph over the rebel works. the battle was won, and victory crowned the union arms. the rebels were flying precipitately from the field, and showers of bullets thick as hail followed the retreating fugitives. night closed around us, and a darkness which almost equaled that of "egypt" settled over the battle-field, and the pitiless rain came down in torrents, drenching alike the living and the dead. there lay upon that crimson field two thousand two hundred and twenty-eight of our own men, and more than that number of the enemy. it was indescribably sad to see our weary, exhausted men, with torches, wading through mud to their knees piloting the ambulances over the field, lest they should trample upon the bodies of their fallen comrades. all night long we toiled in this manner, and when morning came still there were hundreds found upon the field. those of the enemy were found in heaps, both dead and wounded piled together in ravines, among the felled timber, and in rifle pits half covered with mud. now the mournful duty came of identifying and burying the dead. oh, what a day was that in the history of my life, as well as of thousands both north and south. it makes me shudder now while i recall its scenes. to see those fair young forms crushed by the war-horse tread, the dear and bleeding ones stretched by the piled-up dead. oh, war, cruel war! thou dost pierce the soul with untold sorrows, as well as thy bleeding victims with death. how many joyous hopes and bright prospects hast thou blasted; and how many hearts and homes hast thou made desolate! "as we think of the great wave of woe and misery surging over the land, we could cry out in very bitterness of soul--oh god! how long, how long!" the dead lay in long rows on the field, their ghastly faces hid from view by handkerchiefs or the capes of their overcoats, while the faithful soldiers were digging trenches in which to bury the mangled bodies of the slain. i passed along the entire line and uncovered every face, in search of one who had given me a small package the day before when going into battle, telling me that if he should be killed to send it home; and, said he, "here is a ring on my finger which i want you to send to ----. it has never been off my finger since she placed it there the morning i started for washington. if i am killed please take it off and send it to her." i was now in search of him, but could find nothing of the missing one. at last i saw a group of men nearly half a mile distant, who also seemed to be engaged in burying the dead. i made my way toward them as fast as i could, but when i reached them the bodies had all been lowered into the trench, and they were already filling it up. i begged them to let me go down and see if my friend was among the dead, to which the kind hearted boys consented. his body lay there partially covered with earth; i uncovered his face; he was so changed i should not have recognized him, but the ring told me that it was he. i tried with all my might to remove the ring, but could not. the fingers were so swollen that it was impossible to get it off. in life it was a pledge of faithfulness from one he loved, "and in death they were not divided." the dead having been buried and the wounded removed to the churches and college buildings in williamsburg, the fatigued troops sought repose. upon visiting the wounded rebels i saw several whom i had met in yorktown, among them the sergeant of the picket post who had given me a friendly shake and told me if i slept on my post he would shoot me like a dog. he was pretty badly wounded, and did not seem to remember me. a little farther on a young darkie lay groaning upon the floor. i went to look at him, and asked if i could do anything for him. i recognized in the distorted face before me the same darkie who had befriended me at yorktown, and to whom i had offered the five dollar greenback. i assure my friends that i repaid that boy's kindness with double interest; i told doctor e. what he had done for me when my "hands" turned traitors. he was made an especial object of interest and care. some few of the rebel prisoners were gentlemanly and intelligent, and their countenances betokened a high state of moral culture. many were low, insolent, bloodthirsty creatures, who "neither feared god nor regarded man;" while others there were who seemed not to know enough to be either one thing or the other, but were simply living, breathing animals, subject to any order, and who would just as soon retreat as advance, so long as they did not have to fight. they did not care which way the battle went. on the whole there was a vast contrast between the northern and southern soldiers as they appeared in the hospitals, but perhaps prejudice had something to do in making the rebels appear so much inferior to our men. in passing through the college building i noticed a young sergeant, a mere boy, who was shot in the temple. he attracted my attention, and i made some inquiry concerning him. he was a federal, and belonged to the --massachusetts regiment. an old soldier sitting by him told me the following: "that boy is not sixteen yet; he enlisted as a private, and has, by his bravery and good conduct, earned the three stripes which you see on his arm. he fought all day yesterday like a young lion, leading charges again and again upon the enemy. after we lost our captain and lieutenants he took command of the company, and led it through the battle with the skill and courage of a young brigadier, until he fell stunned and bleeding. i carried him off the field, but could not tell whether he was dead or alive. i washed the blood from his face; the cold water had a salutary effect upon him, for when hancock and kearney had completed their work, and the cheers of victory rang over the bloody field, he was sufficiently revived to hear the inspiring tones of triumph. leaping to his feet, faint and sick as he was, he took up the shout of victory in unison with the conquerers on the field. but he had scarcely uttered the notes of victory and glory when his strength deserted him and he fell insensible to the ground." the old man added: "general ---- says if he lives through this he will go into the next battle with shoulder straps on." i went up to him, took his feverish hand, and told him that i was glad that his wound was not mortal. he thanked me, and said with enthusiasm, "i would rather have been killed than to have lost the battle." there is one thing that i have noticed on the field in every battle that i have witnessed, viz.: that the christian man is the best soldier. says a minister of the gospel, writing upon this subject: "it is a common saying among the officers that, as a class, the men who stand foremost when the battle rages are the christian men. many a time i have talked with them about such scenes, and they have told me that their souls have stood firm in that hour of strife, and that they have been perfectly calm. i have had christian generals tell me this. i have heard general howard often say that in the midst of the most terrific portion of the battle, when his heart for a moment quailed, he would pause, and lift up his soul to god and receive strength. "and," said he, "i have gone through battles without a particle of fear. i have thought that god sent me to defend my country. i believed it was a christian duty to stand in the foremost of the fight, and why should i be afraid?" i once heard an eminently pious lady say that she never could reconcile the idea in her mind of a christian going into the army to fight; it was so inconsistent with the christian character that she was tempted to doubt the piety of all fighting men. i respect the lady's views upon the subject, but beg leave to differ from her; for i believe that a man can serve god just as acceptably in fighting the enemies of liberty, truth and righteousness with the musket down south, as he can in the quiet pulpits of the north; in fact i am inclined to think he can do so a little more effectually in the former place. i only wish that there were more of our holy men willing to take up the carnal weapons of warfare, forego the luxuries of home, and, by setting examples worthy of emulation, both in camp and on the battle field, thus strike a fatal blow at this unholy rebellion. the last night i spent in the hospital before leaving williamsburg, i witnessed the death of a christian soldier, a perfect description of which i find in the "memorials of the war:" "it was the hour of midnight, when the chaplain was summoned to the cot of a wounded soldier. he had only left him an hour before, with confident hopes of his speedy recovery--hopes which were shared by the surgeon and the wounded man himself. but a sudden change had taken place, and the surgeon had come to say that the man could live but an hour or two at most, and to beg the chaplain to make the announcement to the dying man. he was soon at his side, but overpowered by his emotions, was utterly unable to deliver his message. the dying man, however, quickly read the solemn truth in the altered looks of the chaplain, his faltering voice and ambiguous words. he had not before entertained a doubt of his recovery. he was expecting soon to see his mother, and with her kind nursing soon to be well. he was therefore entirely unprepared for the announcement, and at first it was overwhelming. "'i am to die then; and--how long?' as he had before expressed hope in christ, the chaplain replied: 'you have made your peace with god; let death come as soon as it will, he will carry you safely over the river.' 'yes; but this is so awfully sudden, awfully sudden!' his lips quivered; he looked up grievingly: 'and i shall not see my mother.' 'christ is better than a mother,' murmured the chaplain. 'yes.' the word came in a whisper. his eyes were closed; the lips still wore that trembling grief, as if the chastisement were too sore, too hard to be borne; but as the minutes passed, and the soul lifted itself up stronger and more steadily upon the wings of prayer, the countenance grew calmer, the lips steadier, and when the eyes opened again there was a light in their depths that could have come only from heaven. "'i thank you for your courage,' he said more feebly, taking the chaplain's hand; 'the bitterness is over now, and i feel willing to die. tell my mother'--he paused, gave one sob, dry, and full of the last anguish of earth--'tell her how i longed to see her; but if god will permit me i will be near her. tell her to comfort all who loved me; to say that i thought of them all. tell my father that i am glad that he gave his consent. tell my minister, by word or letter, that i thought of him, and that i thank him for all his counsels. tell him i find that christ will not desert the passing soul, and that i wish him to give my testimony to the living, that nothing is of real worth but the religion of jesus; and now, will you pray with me?' with swelling emotion and tender tones the chaplain besought god's grace and presence; then, restraining his sobs, he bowed down and pressed upon the beautiful brow, already chilled with the breath of the coming angel, twice, thrice, a fervent kiss. they might have been as tokens from the father and mother, as well as for himself. "so thought, perhaps, the dying soldier, for a heavenly smile touched his face with new beauty, as he said, 'thank you; i won't trouble you any longer. you are wearied out; go to your rest.' 'the lord god be with you!' was the firm response. 'amen,' trembled from the fast whitening lips. another hour passed, still the chaplain did not go to rest, but retired to an adjoining room; he was about to return to the bedside of the dying when the surgeon met him and whispered softly, 'he is gone.' christ's soldier had found the captain of his salvation, and received his reward." tell my mother, when you see her, that i fell amid the strife; and for freedom and my country i have given up my life; tell her that i sent this message ere my tongue refused to speak, and you tell her, comrade, won't you? tell my mother not to weep. tell her, comrade, how we battled for our country and the right; how i held the starry banner in the thickest of the fight; tell her how they struggled for it, and, with curses loud and deep, took my bosom for their target-- but tell her not to weep. tell her i held up the banner 'mid the screaming shot and shell, till the fatal leaden missile pierced my side, and then i fell. tell her i was ready, waiting, when my pulses ceased to beat, and i longed once more to see her-- but you tell her not to weep. tell her that the truths she taught me nerved my arm and led my feet, and i trusted in the promise 'mid the battle's fiercest heat. tell her, while my life was ebbing, that i kissed her face so sweet-- kissed the picture that she gave me-- and you tell her not to weep. tell her, comrade, when you see her, that my battlefields are o'er, and i've gone to join an army where rebellion comes no more; tell her that i hope to greet her, when together we shall meet, in that better home in heaven, where we never more shall weep. chapter x. mcclellan's despatch from ewell's farm--call for reinforcements--news from norfolk--description of the merrimac--the engagement in hampton roads--first and last fight of the merrimac--victory of the monitor--advance on the peninsula--the battle song--a muddy march--on the chickahominy--critical position of general banks--the president's despatches--mcclellan's reply. on the tenth of may headquarters were established beyond williamsburg, and communications were opened between the forces moving by land and water. the following despatch was then sent by general mcclellan to secretary stanton: "camp at ewell's farm, "three miles beyond williamsburg, "_may th-- a. m._ "from the information reaching me from every source, i regard it as certain that the enemy will meet us with all his force on or near the chickahominy. they can concentrate many more men than i have, and are collecting troops from all quarters, especially well disciplined troops from the south. casualties, sickness, garrisons and guards have much reduced our numbers, and will continue to do so. i shall fight the rebel army with whatever force i may have, but duty requires me to urge that every effort be made to reinforce me, without delay, with all the disposable troops in eastern virginia, and that we concentrate all our forces, as far as possible, to fight the great battle now impending, and to make it decisive. it is possible that the enemy may abandon richmond without a serious struggle, but i do not believe he will; and it would be unwise to count upon anything but a stubborn and desperate defense--a life and death contest. i see no other hope for him than to fight this battle, and we must win it. i shall fight them whatever their force may be; but i ask for every man that the department can send me. no troops should now be left unemployed. those who entertain the opinion that the rebels will abandon richmond without a struggle are, in my judgment, badly advised, and do not comprehend their situation, which is one requiring desperate measures. i beg that the president and secretary will maturely weigh what i say, and leave nothing undone to comply with my request. if i am not reinforced it is probable that i will be obliged to fight nearly double my numbers strongly entrenched." four days later he writes: "i will fight the enemy, whatever their force may be, with whatever force i may have, and i believe that we shall beat them; but our triumph should be made decisive and complete. the soldiers of this army love their government, and will fight well in its support. you may rely upon them. they have confidence in me as their general, and in you as their president. strong reinforcements will at least save the lives of many of them; the greater our force the more perfect will be our combinations, and the less our loss. for obvious reasons i beg you to give immediate consideration to this communication, and to inform me fully, at the earliest moment, of your final decision." a few days' rest after the fatigues of the battle, and the glorious news of the evacuation of norfolk and the total annihilation of the merrimac, had a wonderful effect upon the spirits of our troops; they seemed inspired with new courage and enthusiasm. hitherto i have said nothing concerning that great bugbear, the merrimac. perhaps some of my "blue-nose" readers are not so well posted with regard to the origin and structure of this formidable rebel battery as the americans are, and it may be interesting to some to listen to a brief description of it. "upon the burning and evacuation of the norfolk navy yard the steam frigate merrimac was scuttled and sunk, by order of commodore macaulay. this was one of the most magnificent ships in the american navy, being rated as a forty-gun frigate, of four thousand tons burden. she was built in charlestown, massachusetts, in , and was considered one of the finest specimens of naval architecture then afloat. she was two hundred and eighty-one feet long, fifty-two feet broad, and drew twenty-three feet of water. her engines were of eight hundred horse power, driving a two-bladed propeller fourteen feet in diameter, and so adjusted as to be raised from the water when the vessel was driven by wind alone. her armament consisted of twenty-four nine-inch shell guns, fourteen eight-inch, and two one hundred-pound pivot guns. this magnificent structure was raised by the rebels and cut down, leaving only the hull, which was exceedingly massive and solid. over this they constructed a sloping shield of railroad iron, firmly plaited together, and extending two feet under the water. its appearance was much like the slanting roof of a house set upon a ship's hull, like an extinguisher, the ends of the vessel, fore and aft, projecting a few feet beyond this roof. the gun-deck was completely inclosed by this shield, and nothing appeared above it but a short smoke-stack and two flag-staffs." an eye witness gives the following account of the first appearance and conflict of the merrimac: "about noon of saturday, the eighth of march, , this monster was seen coming around craney island from norfolk, accompanied by two other war vessels, the jamestown and yorktown, and quite a little fleet of armed tugs. the merrimac, with her imposing retinue in train, headed for newport news, where there was a national garrison, guarded by the sailing frigates the cumberland, of one thousand seven hundred and twenty-six tons, and the congress, of one thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven tons burden. the merrimac steamed majestically along, as if conscious of resistless strength, and as she passed the congress discharged a single broadside into the doomed ship, and then, leaving her to the attention of the jamestown and yorktown, made directly for the cumberland. when the merrimac was within a hundred yards of the two frigates, they both discharged their tremendous broadsides against her armor. "the mailed monster quivered a moment under the fearful concussion, but every ball glanced from her sloping shield like the wooden arrows of the indian from the hide of the crocodile. her ports were all closed. not deigning to pay any attention to the fierce but harmless assault of the two frigates, she rushed straight forward upon her prey. the formidable national battery at newport news opened, with all its immense guns, at point-blank range, and these solid shot and shells also glanced harmlessly away. on rushed the silent merrimac, with not a soul on board to be seen, true as an arrow, and with all the power of her irresistible weight, plunged headlong with a fearful crash into the side of the helpless frigate. the iron prow of the assailant struck the cumberland amidships, crushing in her side with a mortal gash. then, reversing her engine, and not even annoyed by the cannon balls rattling against her impervious mail, she retraced her steps a few rods for another butt. "as she drew back she turned her broadside to the wounded victim, and hurled into her bosom a merciless volley of shot and shells. the ponderous missiles tore through the crowded ship, hurling her massive guns about her decks, and scattering mutilated bodies in all directions. again gathering headway, she crowded on all steam and made another plunge at the cumberland. she struck directly upon the former wound, and crushed in the whole side of the ship as if it had been a lattice work of laths. "timbers as strong as nature and art could make them, were snapped and crushed like dry twigs. as the sun went down, that night, over hampton roads, every union heart in the fleet and in the fortress throbbed with despair. there was no gleam of hope. the merrimac was impervious to balls, and could go where she pleased. in the morning it would be easy work for her to destroy our whole fleet. she could then shell newport news and fortress monroe at her leisure, setting everything combustible in flames, and driving every man from the guns. "'that morrow! how anxiously we waited for it! how much we feared its results! at sundown there was nothing to dispute the empire of the seas with the merrimac, and had a land attack been made by magruder then, god only knows what our fate would have been.' all at once a speck of light gleamed on the distant wave; it moved; it came nearer and nearer, and at ten o'clock that night the monitor appeared. 'when the tale of brick is doubled, moses comes.' i never more firmly believed in special providences than at that hour. even skeptics were converted, and said, 'god has sent her.' but how insignificant she looked; she was but a speck on the dark blue wave at night, and almost a laughable object by day. the enemy call her a 'cheese-box on a raft,' and the comparison is a good one." but insignificant as she appeared, she saved the union fleet, silenced the rebel monster, and eventually caused her to commit suicide. no wonder then that the news of the death of this formidable foe caused great rejoicing among the union troops. orders were issued to continue the advance up the peninsula; and as the jubilant troops were engaged in striking tents and making the necessary preparations consequent upon a hurried march, "the battle song of the republic" was being sung with enthusiasm throughout the encampment by thousands of manly voices, and every loyal heart seemed inspired by the glorious sentiments which it contained. mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord; he is trampling out the vintage where the grape of wrath is stored; he hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword; his truth is marching on. chorus--glory, glory, hallelujah! glory, glory, hallelujah! glory, glory, hallelujah! his truth is marching on. i have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; they have builded him an altar in the evening's dews and damps; i can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaming lamps; his day is marching on, etc. i have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: as ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; let the hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, since god is marching on, etc. he has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; he is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat; o, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet! our god is marching on, etc. in the beauty of the lilies christ was born across the sea, with a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: as he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, while god is marching on, etc. the roads were so indescribably bad at this time that the army could make but little progress. i remember it required thirty-six hours for one train to accomplish the distance of five miles. however, after several days wading through mud and water, the troops reached the white house, where a portion of the army remained for a time, while the advance guards pushed on to the chickahominy river, and established headquarters at bottom's bridge--its further progress being impeded by the destruction of the bridge by the rebels. "the position of the troops were as follows: stoneman's advance-guard one mile from new bridge; franklin's corps three miles from new bridge, with porter's corps in advancing distance in its rear; sumner's corps on the railroad, about three miles from the chickahominy, connecting the right with the left; keyes' on new kent road, near bottom's bridge, with heintzelman's corps at supporting distance in its rear." the ford was in possession of the federal troops, and a reconstruction of the bridge was immediately commenced. on the th of may the two following despatches were received by gen. mcclellan from the president: "i wish you to move cautiously and safely. you will have command of mcdowell precisely as you indicated in your despatch to us." "in consequence of gen. banks' critical position, i have been compelled to suspend gen. mcdowell's movement to join you. the enemy are making a desperate push upon harper's ferry, and we are trying to throw gen. fremont's force, and part of gen. mcdowell's, in their rear!" on the th, the president also sent the following to mcclellan: "the enemy is moving north in sufficient force to drive gen. banks before him; precisely in what force we cannot tell. he is also threatening leesburg and geary on the manassas gap railroad, from north and south; i think the movement is a general and concerted one--such as would not be if he was acting upon the purpose of a very desperate defense of richmond. i think the time is near when you must either attack richmond or give up the job, and come to the defense of washington. let me hear from you instantly." to which mcclellan replied: "telegram received. independently of it, the time is very near when i shall attack richmond. the object of the movement is probably to prevent reinforcements being sent to me. all the information obtained agree in the statement that the mass of the rebel troops are still in the vicinity of richmond. i have no knowledge of banks' position and force, nor what there is at manassas; therefore cannot form a definite opinion as to the forces against him. i have two corps across chickahominy, within six miles of richmond; the others on this side at other crossings, within same distance, and ready to cross when bridges are completed." chapter xi. another disguise--i become an irish peddler--fever and ague--a night of suffering in the swamp--retrospection--lost in the swamp--cannon my guides--a sick rebel--i find something to eat--my new patient--sympathy for suffering--talk with a dying rebel--a willing detention--extemporizing a light--the last hour--soldiers of christ--the chamber of death. while all these preparations were going forward, i was meditating another visit to the rebel camp. it was not safe for me to attempt to palm myself off again on the rebels as a colored boy. in the first place, i should be in danger of being recognized as the cowardly picket who deserted his post--a crime worthy of death; and in the next place, i should be in imminent danger of blistering my hands again--a thing which i felt particularly anxious to avoid, especially in performing labor that would enable the enemy more successfully to repel the attacks of the federals. now a new disguise was necessary, and i decided to abandon the african relation, and assume that of the hibernian. having had this in view before leaving williamsburg, i procured the dress and outfit of an irish female peddler, following the army, selling cakes, pies, etc., together with a considerable amount of brogue, and a set of irish phrases, which did much toward characterizing me as one of the "rale ould stock of bog-trotters." the bridges were not finished across the chickahominy when i was ready to cross the river, so i packed up my new disguise in my cake and pie basket, and my horse, "frank," and i took a bath in the cool water of the chickahominy. after swimming my noble steed across the river, i dismounted, and led him to the edge of the water--gave him a farewell pat, and let him swim back again to the other side, where a soldier awaited his return. it was now evening; i did not know the precise distance to the enemy's picket line, but thought it best to avoid the roads, and consequently i must spend the night in the swamp, as the only safe retreat. it required some little time to don my new disguise, and feel at home in the clothes. i thought the best place for my debut was the "chickahominy swamp." i did not purpose, this time, to pass the enemy's lines in the night, but to present myself at the picket line, at a seasonable hour, and ask admission as one of the fugitives of that section flying from the approach of the yankees, which was a usual thing. in crossing the river i had my basket strapped on my back, and did not know that all it contained was completely drenched, until i required to use its contents. it was, therefore, with feelings of dread and disappointment that i discovered this sad fact, for i had been suffering from slight ague chills during the day, and feared the consequences of spending the night in wet clothing, especially in that malaria-infested region. however, there was no alternative, and i was obliged to make the best of it. i had brought a patch-work quilt with me from the hospital, but that, too, was wet. yet it kept off some of the chill night air, and the miasmatic breath of that "dismal swamp." the remembrance of the sufferings of that night seem to be written upon my memory "as with a pen of iron." there i was, all alone, surrounded by worse, yes, infinitely worse, than wild beasts--by blood-thirsty savages--who considered death far too good for those who were in the employment of the united states government. that night i was attacked by severe chills--chills beyond description, or even conception, except by those who have experienced the freezing sensation of a genuine ague chill. during the latter part of the night the other extreme presented itself, and it seemed as if i should roast alive, and not a single drop of water to cool my parched tongue; it was enough to make any one think of the "rich man" of the bible, and in sympathy with his feelings cry to "father abraham" for assistance. my mind began to wander, and i became quite delirious. there seemed to be the horrors of a thousand deaths concentrated around me; i was tortured by fiends of every conceivable shape and magnitude. oh, how it makes me shudder to recall the scenes which my imagination conjured up during those dark weary hours! morning at last came, and i was aroused from the horrible night-mare which had paralyzed my senses through the night, by the roar of cannon and the screaming of shell through the forest. but there i was, helpless as an infant, equally unable to advance or retreat, without friend or foe to molest or console me, and nothing even to amuse me but my own thoughts. i looked upon the surrounding scenery, and pronounced it very unromantic; then my eye fell upon my irish costume, and i began to remember the fine phrases which i had taken so much pains to learn, when the perfect absurdity of my position rushed over my mind with overwhelming force, and the ludicrousness of it made me, for the moment, forget my lamentable condition, and with one uncontrollable burst of laughter i made that swamp resound in a manner which would have done credit to a person under happier circumstances, and in a better state of health. that mood soon passed away, and i began a retrospection of my past life. it certainly had been an eventful one. i took great interest in carefully tracing each link in the chain of circumstances which had brought me to the spot whereon i now lay, deserted and alone, in that notorious chickahominy swamp. and ere i was aware of it, i was sighing over a few episodes in my past history--and mentally saying, well, only for this intense love of adventure, such and such things "might have been," and i should now be rejoicing in the honorable title of ---- ----, instead of "wasting my sweetness on the desert air," in the wilderness of the peninsula. of all the sad words, of tongue or of pen, the saddest are these--"_it might have been_." the cannonading was only the result of a reconnoissance, and in a few hours ceased altogether. but not so my fever and chills; they were my constant companions for two days and two nights in succession. at the end of that time i was an object of pity. with no medicine, no food, and consequently little strength; i was nearly in a state of starvation. my pies and cakes were spoiled in the basket, in consequence of the drenching they had received in crossing the river, and now i had no means of procuring more. but something must be done; i could not bear the thought of thus starving to death in that inglorious manner; better die upon the scaffold at richmond, or be shot by the rebel pickets; anything but this. so i thought and said, as i rallied all my remaining strength to arrange my toilette preparatory to emerging from my concealment in the swamp. it was about nine o'clock in the morning of the third day after crossing the river, when i started, as i thought, towards the enemy's lines, and a more broken-hearted, forlorn-looking "bridget" never left "ould ireland," than i appeared to be that morning. i traveled from that time until five o'clock in the afternoon, and was then deeper in the swamp than when i started. my head or brain was completely turned. i knew not which way to go, nor did i know east from west, or north from south. it was a dark day in every sense of the word--and i had neither sun nor compass to guide me. at five o'clock the glorious booming of cannon reverberated through the dense wilderness, and to me, at that hour, it was the sweetest and most soul-inspiring music that ever greeted my ear. i now turned my face in the direction of the scene of action, and was not long in extricating myself from the desert which had so long enveloped me. soon after emerging from the swamp i saw, in the distance, a small white house, and thither i bent my weary footsteps. i found it deserted, with the exception of a sick rebel soldier, who lay upon a straw-tick on the floor in a helpless condition. i went to him, and assuming the irish brogue, i inquired how he came to be left alone, and if i could render him any assistance. he could only speak in a low whisper, and with much difficulty, said he had been ill with typhoid fever a few weeks before, and had not fully recovered when general stoneman attacked the rebels in the vicinity of coal harbor, and he was ordered to join his company. he participated in a sharp skirmish, in which the rebels were obliged to retreat; but he fell out by the way, and fearing to fall into the hands of the yankees, he had crawled along as best he could, sometimes on his hands and knees, until he reached the house in which i found him. [illustration: making hoe-cake for a sick rebel.--page .] he had not eaten anything since leaving camp, and he was truly in a starving condition. i did not dare say to him "ditto"--with regard to poor "bridget's" case--but thought so, and realized it most painfully. he also told me that the family who had occupied the house had abandoned it since he came there, and that they had left some flour and corn-meal, but had not time to cook anything for him. this was good news for me, and exhausted as i was, i soon kindled a fire, and in less than fifteen minutes a large hoe-cake was before it in process of baking, and a sauce-pan of water heating, for there was no kettle to be found. after searching about the premises, i found some tea packed away in a small basket, with some earthearn ware, which the family had forgotten to take with them. my cake being cooked, and tea made, i fed the poor famished rebel as tenderly as if he had been my brother, and he seemed as grateful for my kindness, and thanked me with as much politeness, as if i had been mrs. jeff davis. the next important item was to attend to the cravings of my own appetite, which i did without much ceremony. after making my toilet and adjusting my wig in the most approved irish style, i approached the sick man, and for the first time noticed his features and general appearance. he was a man about thirty years of age, was tall and had a slight figure, regular features, dark hair and large, mournful, hazel eyes; altogether he was a very pleasing and intelligent looking man. i thought him quite an interesting patient, and if i had had nothing more important to attend to, i should have enjoyed the privilege of caring for him until he recovered. it is strange how sickness and disease disarm our antipathy and remove our prejudices. there lay before me an enemy to the government for which i was daily and willingly exposing my life and suffering unspeakable privation; he may have been the very man who took deadly aim at my friend and sent the cruel bullet through his temple; and yet, as i looked upon him in his helpless condition, i did not feel the least resentment, or entertain an unkind thought toward him personally, but looked upon him only as an unfortunate, suffering man, whose sad condition called forth the best feelings of my nature, and i longed to restore him to health and strength; not considering that the very health and strength which i wished to secure for him would be employed against the cause which i had espoused. i had a great desire to know more of this man who had so strangely called forth my sympathies, and finding that he had grown stronger since he had partaken of some nourishment, i entered into conversation with him. i found that he was wholly and conscientiously a confederate soldier, but, strange to say, completely divested of that inveterate hatred of the yankees which is almost universal among the southerners. i dared not express my sentiments in very strong terms, but gently interrogated him with regard to the right which he claimed the rebels had to take up arms against the united states government. at length i asked him if he professed to be a soldier of the cross; he replied with emotion and enthusiasm, "yes, thank god! i have fought longer under the captain of my salvation than i have yet done under jeff. davis." my next and last question upon that subject was--"can you, as a disciple of christ, conscientiously and consistently uphold the institution of slavery?" he made no reply, but fixed those mournful eyes on my face with a sad expression, as much as to say--"ah, bridget, you have touched a point upon which my own heart condemns me, and i know that god is greater than my heart, and will also condemn me." in this earnest conversation i had unconsciously forgotten much of my hibernian accent, and i thought that the sick man began to suspect that i was not what my appearance indicated. it alarmed me for a moment, but i soon recovered my composure after stepping forward and examining his pulse, for he was fast sinking, and the little strength which he seemed to have a short time before was nearly exhausted. after studying my countenance a few moments he asked me to pray with him. i did not dare to refuse the dying man's request, nor did i dare to approach my maker in an assumed tone of voice; so i knelt down beside him, and in my own natural voice breathed a brief and earnest prayer for the departing soldier, for grace to sustain him in that trying hour, and finally for the triumph of truth and right. when i arose from my knees he grasped my hand eagerly and said: "please tell me who you are. i cannot, if i would, betray you, for i shall very soon be standing before that god whom you have just addressed." i could not tell him the truth and i would not tell him a falsehood, so i evaded a direct reply, but promised that when he became stronger i would tell him my history. he smiled languidly and closed his eyes, as much as to say that he understood me. it was now growing late. i was not far from the rebel lines, but was not able to successfully act a part in my present debilitated condition, and besides, i was glad that i could consistently remain over night with that poor dying man, rebel though he was. i began to look around for something which i might convert into a light, but did not succeed in finding anything better than a piece of salt pork, which i fried, pouring the fat into a dish in which i put a cotton rag, and then lighting the end of the rag i found i had secured quite a respectable light. after making some corn-meal gruel for my patient, i took care to fasten the doors and windows so that no one could enter the house without my knowledge, and screened the windows so that no light might attract the rebel scouts. thus with a sort of feeling of security i took my seat beside the sick man. the dews of death were already gathering on his pallid brow. i took his hand in mine, examined his pulse again, and wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. oh how those beautiful eyes thanked me for these little acts of kindness! he felt in his heart that i did not sympathize with him as a rebel, but that i was willing to do all that a sister could do for him in this hour of trial. this seemed to call forth more gratitude than if i had been heart and hand with the south. he looked up suddenly and saw me weeping--for i could not restrain my tears--he seemed then to understand that he was really dying. looking a little startled he exclaimed--"am i really dying?" oh, how often have i been obliged to answer that awful question in the affirmative! "yes, you are dying, my friend. is your peace made with god?" he replied, "my trust is in christ; he was mine in life, and in death he will not forsake me"--almost the very words i heard a dying federal soldier say, a few days before, at the hospital in williamsburg. a few weeks previous these two men had been arrayed against each other in deadly strife; yet they were brethren; their faith and hope were the same; they both trusted in the same saviour for salvation. then he said, "i have a last request to make. if you ever pass through the confederate camp between this and richmond inquire for major mckee, of general ewell's staff, and give him a gold watch which you will find in my pocket; he will know what to do with it; and tell him i died happy, peacefully." he then told me his name and the regiment to which he had belonged. his name was allen hall. taking a ring from his finger he tried to put it on mine, but his strength failed, and after a pause he said, "keep that ring in memory of one whose sufferings you have alleviated, and whose soul has been refreshed by your prayers in the hour of dissolution." then folding his hands together as a little child would do at its mother's knee, he smiled a mute invitation for prayer. after a few moments' agonizing prayer in behalf of that departing spirit, the dying man raised himself up in the bed and cried out with his dying breath, "glory to god! glory to god! i am almost home!" he was almost gone. i gave him some water, raised the window, and using my hat for a fan, i sat down and watched the last glimmering spark of light go out from those beautiful windows of the soul. putting his hand in mine he signed to me to raise his head in my arms. i did so, and in a few moments he ceased to breathe. he died about twelve o'clock--his hand clasping mine in the painful grip of death, my arm supporting him, and his head leaning on my bosom like a wearied child. i laid him down, closed his eyes, and straightened his rigid limbs; then folding his hands across his breast, i drew his blanket close around him and left him in the silent embrace of death. the beautiful, calm expression of his face made me think he looked like one who wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. this was rather a strange position for me to occupy at midnight--alone with death! yet i thanked god that it was my privilege to be there; and i thanked him for the religion of jesus which was the strength of my heart in that trying hour. yes, i could then rejoice in the providence which had detained me in the chickahominy swamp, and had thus brought me to the bedside of that suffering stranger. profound silence reigned supreme, and there was naught to chase away the darkness of that gloomy midnight hour save the consciousness that god was there. i felt it good thus to be drawn away from the tumult of war, and there, in the presence of the angel of death, hold communion with my own heart and drink deep from the well of holy meditation. i thought there were happy spirits hovering round the lifeless form of him who was so lovable in life and lovely in death. yes, i imagined the shining host had returned from escorting the triumphant spirit to the throne of god, and were now watching the beautiful casket which had encased the bright spirit whose companionship had made some southern home bright and joyous. i thought, too, of the loved ones who had gone and left me to finish my journey alone, and who would soon come to bear me away to that bright eternal world, if i only proved faithful unto death. "how impressively sad, how thrillingly beautiful, the lesson we glean from this silent spirit communion! our physical nature starts and shudders at the thought of joining the silent numbers of the dead; but our spiritual nature catches a glimpse of that spirit-life beyond the portals of the tomb, where life, pure, free and joyous, shall be ours." a lesson sad, but fraught with good-- a tearful one, but strengthening food-- thou givest me; we learn that "dust returns to dust," anew in god we put our trust, and bow the knee. chapter xii. am i a stoic?--someone's darling--completing my disguise--another start for the rebel lines--peppering my eyes--challenged by a picket--a cockney sentinel--getting information--plenty of beef, but no salt--rice and corn meal bread--preparing to visit headquarters--interview with major mckee--the major's misplaced confidence--return for the body of the rebel captain--my look-out for yankees--new orders. perhaps some of my readers will pronounce me a stoic, entirely devoid of feeling, when i tell them that two hours after i wrapped the unconscious form of my late patient in his winding-sheet, i enveloped myself in my patchwork quilt, and laid me down not far from the corpse, and slept soundly until six o'clock in the morning. feeling much refreshed i arose, and after spending a few moments by the side of my silent companion, contemplating the changes which the king of terrors had wrought, i cut a lock of hair from his temple, took the watch and a small package of letters from his pocket, replaced the blanket reverently, and bade him farewell. kiss him once for somebody's sake murmur a prayer soft and low; one bright curl from its dark mates take, they were somebody's pride, you know: somebody's hand hath rested there-- was it a mother's, soft and white? and have the lips of a sister fair been baptized in their waves of light? god knows best! he was somebody's love; somebody's heart enshrined him there; somebody wafted his name above, night and morn, on the wings of prayer. somebody wept when he marched away, looking so handsome, brave and grand; somebody's kiss on his forehead lay, somebody clung to his parting hand. somebody's waiting and watching for him, yearning to hold him again to her heart; and there he lies with his dark eyes dim, and the smiling, childlike lips apart. tenderly bury the fair young dead, pausing to drop in his grave a tear; carve on the wooden slab at his head "somebody's darling slumbers here." after hastily partaking of a slight repast, which i could scarcely term breakfast, i commenced immediate preparations to leave the house. upon examining the basket in which i had found the tea on my arrival, i found a number of articles which assisted me much in assuming a more perfect disguise. there was mustard, pepper, an old pair of green spectacles, and a bottle of red ink. of the mustard i made a strong plaster about the size of a dollar, and tied it on one side of my face until it blistered it thoroughly. i then cut off the blister and put on a large patch of black court-plaster; with the ink i painted a red line around my eyes, and after giving my pale complexion a deep tinge with some ochre which i found in a closet, i put on my green glasses and my irish hood, which came over my face about six inches. i then made the tour of the house from garret to cellar, to find all the household fixings which an irishwoman would be supposed to carry with her in such an emergency--for i expected to be searched before i was admitted through the lines. i packed both my baskets, for i had two now, and was ready for another start. but before leaving i thought best to bury my pistol and every article in my possession which could in any way induce suspicion. then taking a farewell look at the beautiful features of the dead, i left the house, going directly the nearest road to the rebel picket line. i felt perfectly safe in doing so, for the rebel soldier's watch was a sufficient passport in daylight, and a message for major mckee would insure me civility at least. i followed the richmond road about five miles before meeting or seeing any one. at length i saw a sentinel in the distance, but before he observed me i sat down to rest and prepare my mind for the coming interview. while thus waiting to have my courage reinforced, i took from my basket the black pepper and sprinkled a little of it on my pocket handkerchief, which i applied to my eyes. the effect was all i could have desired, for taking a view of my prepossessing countenance in the small mirror which i always carried with me, i perceived that my eyes had a fine tender expression, which added very much to the beauty of their red borders. i was reminded of poor leah of old who failed to secure the affection of her husband in consequence of a similar blemish, and thought myself safe from the slightest approach to admiration on the part of the chivalry. i now resumed my journey, and displayed a flag of truce, a piece of a cotton window curtain which i brought from the house at which i had stopped over night. as i came nearer the picket-guard signaled to me to advance, which i did as fast as i could under the circumstances, being encumbered with two heavy baskets packed full of earthenware, clothing, quilts, etc. upon coming up to the guard, instead of being dismayed at his formidable appearance, i felt rejoiced, for there stood before me an immense specimen of a jolly englishman, with a blind smile on his good-natured face, provoked, i presume, by the supremely ludicrous figure i presented. he mildly questioned me with regard to my hopes and fears, whence i came and whither i was going, and if i had seen any yankees. my sorrowful story was soon told. my peppery handkerchief was freely applied to my eyes, and the tears ran down my face without the least effort on my part. the good-natured guard's sympathy was excited, more especially as i was a foreigner like himself, and he told me i could pass along and go just wherever i pleased, so far as he was concerned, adding in a sad tone, "i wish i was hat 'ome with my family, hand then jeff. davis hand the confederacy might go to 'ell for hall me. hinglishmen 'ave no business 'ere." i mentally exclaimed, "good for you--you are one after my own heart," but i replied to the englishman's patriotic speech after the following manner: "och, indade i wish yez was all at home wid yer families, barrin them as have no families; an sure its we poor craythurs of wimen that's heartbroken intirely, an fairly kilt wid this onnathral war;" and here my eyes were again carefully wiped with my handkerchief. after thanking the picket-guard for his kindness, i went on my way toward the rebel camp. i had not gone far when the guard called me back and advised me not to stay in camp over night, for, said he, "one of our spies has just come in and reported that the yankees have finished the bridges across the chickahominy, and intend to attack us either to-day or to-night, but jackson and lee are ready for them." he went on to tell me how many masked batteries they had prepared, and said he, "there is one," pointing to a brush-heap by the roadside, "that will give them fits if they come this way." feeling somewhat in a hurry, i started once more for camp. i concluded after getting through the lines that i could dispense with one of my baskets, so setting one of them down under a tree i felt much more comfortable, and was not quite so conspicuous an object going into camp. i went directly to headquarters and inquired for major mckee. i was told that he would not be there before evening, and my informant drawled out after me, "he's gone to set a trap for the d--d yankees." i made up my mind at once that i must find out as much as possible before night, and make my way back before the impending battle came on. upon looking around the camp i saw a shanty where some negro women were cooking meat. i went and told them that i was hungry and would like to have something to eat. "oh yes, honey, we'se got lots o' meat and bread, but haint got no salt; but reckon ye can eat it without." so saying an old auntie brought me a piece of boiled fresh beef and some bread; but i could not make out what the bread was made of; as near as i could guess, however, it was made of boiled rice and corn-meal, and that also was without salt. i thought it would be well to look a little smarter before i presented myself at headquarters again, lest i might not meet with that confidence which i felt it was important for me to secure. my patched and painted face made it impossible for any one to define the expression of my countenance. my blistered cheek was becoming very painful in consequence of the drawing of the court-plaster. i took off my glasses and bathed my face in clear, cold water, which did not remove much of the color, but made me a shade more like myself; then i succeeded in getting one of the colored women to go to the doctor's quarters and get me some unguent, or simple cerate, with which i dressed the blister. my eyes were sufficiently disfigured by this time to dispense with the glasses, so putting them in my basket i laid them aside for another occasion. there was no difficulty in finding out the force of the enemy or their plans for the coming battle, for every one, men and women, seemed to think and talk of nothing else. five o'clock came, and with it major mckee. i lost no time in presenting myself before his majorship, and with a profound irish courtesy i made known my business, and delivered the watch and package. i did not require any black pepper now to assist the lachrymal glands in performing their duty, for the sad mementoes which i had just delivered to the major so forcibly reminded me of the scenes of the past night that i could not refrain from weeping. the major, rough and stern as he was, sat there with his face between his hands and sobbed like a child. soon he rose to his feet, surveyed me from head to foot, and said, "you are a faithful woman, and you shall be rewarded." he then asked: "can you go direct to that house, and show my men where allen's body is?" i answered in the affirmative--whereupon he handed me a ten dollar federal bill, saying, as he did so: "if you succeed in finding the house, i will give you as much more." i thanked him, but positively declined taking the money. he did not seem to understand the philosophy of a person in my circumstances refusing money, and when i looked at him again his face wore a doubtful, puzzled expression, which alarmed me. i was actually frightened, and bursting into a passionate fit of weeping, i exclaimed vehemently: "oh, gineral, forgive me! but me conshins wud niver give me pace in this world nor in the nixt, if i wud take money for carying the dyin missage for that swate boy that's dead and gone--god rest his soul. och, indade, indade i nivir cud do sich a mane thing, if i im a poor woman." the major seemed satisfied, and told me to wait until he returned with a detachment of men. when he returned with the men, i told him that i did not feel able to walk that distance, and requested him to let me have a horse, stating the fact that i had been sick for several days, and had slept but little the night before. he did not answer a word, but ordered a horse saddled immediately, which was led forward by a colored boy, who assisted me to mount. i really felt mean, and for the first time since i had acted in the capacity of spy, i despised myself for the very act which i was about to perform. i must betray the confidence which that man reposed in me. he was too generous to harbor a suspicion against me, and thus furnished me the very means of betraying him. this feeling did not last long, however, for as we started on our mission he said to his men: "now, boys, bring back the body of captain hall, if you have to walk through yankee blood to the knees." that speech eased my conscience considerably. i was surprised to hear him say "captain hall," for i did not know until then that he was an officer. there was nothing about his uniform or person to indicate his rank, and i had supposed he was a private soldier. we made our way toward the house very cautiously, lest we should be surprised by the federals. i rode at the head of the little band of rebels as guide, not knowing but that i was leading them into the jaws of death every step we advanced, and if so it would probably be death for me as well as for them. thus we traveled those five miles, silently, thoughtfully, and stealthily. the sun had gone down behind the western hills, and the deepening shadows were fast gathering around us as we came in sight of the little white cottage in the forest, where i had so recently spent such a strangely, awfully solemn night. the little detachment halted to rest, and to make arrangements before approaching the house. this detachment consisted of twenty-four men, under a sergeant and a corporal. the men were divided into squads, each of which was to take its turn at carrying the body of their late captain upon a stretcher, which they had brought for that purpose. as we drew near, and saw no sign of an approaching enemy, they regretted that they had not brought an ambulance; but i did not regret it, for the present arrangement suited me exactly. having settled things satisfactorily among themselves, we again resumed our march and were soon at the gate. the sergeant then ordered the corporal to proceed to the house with a squad of men and bring out the corpse, while he stationed the remaining men to guard all the approaches to the house. he then asked me to ride down the road a little way, and if i should see or hear anything of the yankees to ride back as fast as possible and let them know. i assented, and joyfully complied with the first part of his request. this was a very pleasant duty assigned me, for which i mentally thanked the sergeant a thousand times. i turned and rode slowly down the road, but not "seeing or hearing anything of the yankees," i thought it best to keep on in that direction until i did. i was like the zouave, after the battle of bull run, who said he was ordered to retreat, but not being ordered to halt at any particular place, he preferred to keep on until he reached new york. so i preferred to keep on until i reached the chickahominy, where i reported progress to the federal general. i had no desire to have that little escort captured, and consequently said nothing about it in my report; so the sergeant, with his men, were permitted to return to the rebel camp unmolested, bearing with them the remains of their beloved captain. after getting out of sight of the rebel guards, i made that horse go over the ground about as fast, i think, as he ever did before--which seemed to give him a bad impression of yankees in general, and of me in particular, for ever after that night, it was as much as a person's life was worth to saddle him; at every attempt he would kick and bite most savagely. the next day the following order was issued: "upon advancing beyond the chickahominy the troops will go prepared for battle at a moment's notice, and will be entirely unencumbered, with the exception of ambulances. all vehicles will be left on the eastern side of the chickahominy, and carefully packed. "the men will leave their knapsacks, packed, with the wagons, and will carry three days rations. the arms will be put in perfect order before the troops march, and a careful inspection made of them, as well as of the cartridge-boxes, which in all cases will contain at least forty rounds; twenty additional rounds will be carried by the men in their pockets. commanders of batteries will see that their limber and caisson-boxes are filled to their utmost capacity. "commanders of army corps will devote their personal attention to the fulfillment of these orders, and will personally see that the proper arrangements are made for packing and properly guarding the trains and surplus baggage, taking all the steps necessary to insure their being brought promptly to the front when needed; they will also take steps to prevent the ambulances from interfering with the movements of any troops. sufficient guards and staff-officers will be detailed to carry out these orders. the ammunition-wagons will be in readiness to march to their respective brigades and batteries at a moment's warning, but will not cross the chickahominy until they are sent for. all quarter-masters and ordnance officers are to remain with their trains. "in the approaching battle the general commanding trusts that the troops will preserve the discipline which he has been so anxious to enforce, and which they have so generally observed. he calls upon all the officers and soldiers to obey promptly and intelligently all the orders they may receive; let them bear in mind that the army of the potomac has never yet been checked, and let them preserve in battle perfect coolness and confidence, the sure forerunners of success. they must keep well together, throw away no shots, but aim carefully and low, and, above all things, rely upon the bayonet. commanders of regiments are reminded of the great responsibility that rests upon them; upon their coolness, judgment and discretion, the destinies of their regiments and success of the day will depend." chapter xiii. our communications with the chickahominy--porter's successes--despatches to the president--his reply--hanover court house--terrible storm and flood--hopes of the enemy--a sudden and strong attack--i act as an orderly--through the flood--my return and report--joyful news--my own disaster--scenes in the old mill--waiting on the wounded--my sufferings by the roadside--a hard-hearted chaplain--a stumbling block. for several days the enemy had been concentrating a large force on the right flank of the federals, with the intention of cutting off their communications with the river. a portion of fitz john porter's corps was detailed to dispose of this force, and also to cut the virginia central, richmond and fredericksburg railroads. the communication was cut off, and after two severe engagements the enemy retreated, leaving behind them several hundred prisoners, their cannon and camp equipage. on the same day the following despatch was sent to the secretary of war by the commanding general: "camp near new bridge, may th. porter has gained two complete victories over superior forces; yet i feel obliged to move in the morning with reinforcements to secure the complete destruction of the rebels in that quarter. in doing so i run some risk here, but cannot help it. the enemy are even in greater force than i had supposed. i will do all that quick movements can accomplish, but you must send me all the troops you can, and leave me to full latitude as to choice of commanders. it is absolutely necessary to destroy the rebels near hanover court house before i can advance." to which the president replied: "i am very glad of general porter's victory. still, if it was a total rout of the enemy, i am puzzled to know why the richmond and fredericksburg railroad was not seized again, as you say you have all the railroads but the richmond and fredericksburg. i am painfully impressed with the importance of the struggle before you, and shall aid you all i can consistently with my view of due regard to other points." two days later mcclellan telegraphs again: "from the tone of your despatches i do not think that you appreciate the value and magnitude of porter's victory. it has entirely relieved my right flank, which was seriously threatened, it has routed and demoralized a considerable portion of the rebel forces, taken over seven hundred and fifty prisoners, killed and wounded large numbers; one gun, many small arms, and much baggage taken. it was one of the handsomest things in the war, both in itself and in its results. porter has returned, and my army is again well in hand. another day will make the probable field of battle passable for artillery. it is quite certain that there is nothing in front of mcdowell at fredericksburg. i regard the burning of south anne bridge as the least important result of porter's movement." the battle of hanover court house was certainly a splendid affair, and a very important victory to the army of the potomac. three days after this battle, while the army was divided by the river, a portion of the troops having crossed over the day before, a most fearful storm swept over the peninsula, accompanied with terrible exhibitions of lightning and explosions of thunder. the water came down all night and all day in perfect floods, completely inundating the valley through which the chickahominy flows, turning the narrow stream into a broad river, converting the swamps into lakes, and carrying away one bridge and rendering the other unsafe. and still the rain came pouring down in torrents, reminding one of that crisis in the world's history when "the fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened." had it not been for mcclellan's faith in the bible and in god's covenant with noah, he would no doubt have seriously contemplated building an ark, in order to save himself and his army from destruction. the rebels seemed to think this flood was sent as a judgment from the almighty upon their hated enemies, and was a direct interposition of providence in their behalf, which would enable them to visit wholesale destruction upon the yankees. on the thirtieth of may the enemy, taking advantage of this terrible state of things caused by the disastrous storm, came rushing down upon our troops in immense force. a battle opened at about one o'clock in the afternoon, and after three hours' desperate fighting, general casey's division, occupying the first line, was compelled to fall back in considerable disorder upon the second line, causing temporary confusion; but the rapid advance of generals heintzelman and kearney with their divisions soon checked the rebels. sumner, sedgwick, couch, keyes and the other commanders also labored valiantly to retrieve the injury effected by the unfortunate retirement of casey's command. the enemy, led by hill and longstreet, advanced in massive columns, with threefold lines, and came boldly on like an overwhelming wave, as if determined to crush all opposition by the suddenness and fierceness of the attack. total annihilation seemed to be their motto, and the determined and reckless daring of the fierce and bloodthirsty rebels in such overpowering numbers carried conviction to many loyal hearts that they would succeed in driving that devoted fragment of an army into the chickahominy, before it would be possible for reinforcements to arrive. at this time i was in military uniform, mounted upon my rebel horse, and was acting orderly for general k. several aides and orderlies had been sent with messages and despatches, but no reinforcement had yet arrived, and, taking a federal view of it, the picture presented a gloomy appearance. general k. reined in his horse abruptly, and taking from his pocket an envelope, he hastily wrote on the back of it with a pencil--"in the name of god bring your command to our relief, if you have to swim in order to get here--or we are lost." handing it to me he said--"go just as fast as that horse can carry you to general g., present this with my compliments, return immediately, and report to me." i put poor little "reb" over the road at the very top of his speed until he was nearly white with foam, then plunged him into the chickahominy and swam him across the river. i met general g. about a hundred rods from the river making the best of his way toward the bridge. engineers were at once set to work strengthening the crazy structure, which was swaying to and fro with the rushing tide. the eager, excited troops dashed into the water waist deep, and getting upon the floating planks went pouring over in massive columns. i preferred to swim my horse back again rather than risk myself upon such a bridge, for i looked every moment to see it give way and engulf the whole division in the turbid waters of the swollen creek. however, all reached the other side in safety, and started along the flooded road on the double quick. this was cheering news to carry back to general k., so i started again for the field in order to claim the reward of "him who bringeth good tidings." i found general k. in the thickest of the fight, encouraging his men and shouting his orders distinctly above the roar and din of battle. riding up to him and touching my hat, i reported--"just returned, sir. general g., with his command, will be here immediately." it was too good to keep to himself, so he turned to his men and shouted at the top of his voice--"reinforcements! reinforcements!" then swinging his hat in the air he perfectly electrified the whole line as far as his voice could reach, and the glorious word "reinforcements" was passed along until that almost exhausted line was reanimated and inspired with new hope. while i was thus watching with delight the effects of this joyful news upon the soldiers, my attention was directed to another object. general h., who had made himself conspicuous by his gallant conduct, was struck by a ball which shattered his arm badly. he was only a few rods from me, and there was none near to help him. i asked general k. if i might go to him, and after obtaining permission i rode up to him, leaped from my horse, and hitched him near by. i then removed the clothing from his arm, gave him some water, poured some on the wound, and went to my saddle-bags to get some bandages, when my rebel pony laid hold of my arm with his teeth and almost tore the flesh from the bone. not content with that, he turned his heels in an instant and kicked with both feet, sending me about a rod. my arm was now almost as bad as general h.'s, and i could do but little to help him, for in ten minutes it was swollen terribly, and i could not raise it to my head; finally i was ordered back to an old saw-mill about a mile and a half from the field, where were considerable quantities of quarter-masters' and commissary stores, with orders to have them removed further to the rear; and all who were able to come to the front, together with the surgeon and a portion of the hospital corps who had been left there in charge of the sick, were to lose no time in reporting themselves for duty on the field. [illustration: acting orderly.--page .] upon arriving at the old saw-mill i found it crowded with wounded men who had crawled there from the battle-field, to have their wounds dressed if possible, and if not to lie down and suffer where the shot and shell could not reach them. i delivered my orders. in a few moments more there was not a soul left to minister to those poor fellows who were huddled together in that mill by the score; all had gone to the front, and i was left there in a sad plight. i put my vicious little "reb" in a building near the mill, where there was plenty of hay and corn, but did not dare to unsaddle him. i then examined the extent of the injury done to my arm, and found it was worse than i had supposed. it was badly mangled by the horse's teeth, and in one place a large piece of flesh was torn from the arm and hung by small shreds. but the arm was not the worst; he had kicked me in the side, which had lamed and bruised me sadly. yet this was no time to groan over a slight kick from a horse, when so many lay around me with shattered limbs and ghastly saber wounds, some of them even now in the very agonies of death. so, resolutely saying to pain and lameness, "stay thou here while i go yonder," i bound up my arm in a sling, and set about removing the blood-clotted clothing from the wounds of those who needed it most; but having neither knife or scissors, i was obliged in many instances to use my teeth in order to tear the thick woolen garments stiffened and saturated with blood, the very remembrance of which now makes me feel rather uncomfortable in the gastric region; but then there was no unpleasant sensation. the next thing to be thought of was, how i could procure some bandages; but as to getting them from the saddle-bags, i would as soon have thought of bearding a lion in his den, as of tempting the jaws of that ferocious animal again. however, there were two houses within a mile, and i decided to try my fortune in that direction. first of all i went among the sick, who were left there by the surgeon, and inquired if there were any who were able to assist me in dressing wounds. yes, i found two; one a little mail-carrier, and the other a commissary sergeant, both of whom were scarcely able to stand alone. these two i set to work pouring cold water upon the wounded limbs occasionally, and giving the men water to drink until i returned. at the first house i went to they would not let me in at all, but raised the window and wished to know what was wanted. i told them, anything that would admit of tearing up for bandages. no, they had nothing of the kind, and closed the window again. i limped along to the next house. a man came to the door, holding it, to prevent my attempting to get in. the same question was asked, and a similar answer returned. by this time my patience and strength were both exhausted, and my mind was made up with regard to the course i should pursue. therefore, drawing both my pistols from my belt, i demanded some cotton, new or old--sheets, pillow-cases, or any other article which would answer the purpose for bandages. the man trembled from head to foot, and called his wife to know if she could let me have anything of the sort; yes, she could, if i would pay her for it; and of course i was willing to pay her; so she brought me an old sheet, a pair of pillow-cases, and three yards of new factory cotton cloth, for which she demanded five dollars. happening to have only three dollars in change, i told her i thought that would be sufficient; and so saying, i left immediately. i did not know, until i had proceeded some distance, that the blood was running from my arm in a perfect stream. in my excitement and determination, i had grasped one of my pistols with the lame hand and started those terrible gashes bleeding afresh. i grew faint and dizzy, and sat down by the road-side to gather a little strength before proceeding further. while i sat there i saw a horseman coming in the distance, but could not tell whether it was friend or foe, for it was growing dark. i waited until he came nearer, when i was rejoiced to see that it was a chaplain; not mr. b., but of course he was a good man, being a chaplain and a federal. so i felt that relief was at hand. but imagine my disappointment and chagrin when he came up and, priest-like, looked upon me, "and passed by on the other side." well, after all, i did not care so much for myself, but i thanked heaven that he had come on the poor men's account, for he would, no doubt, do much during the night to relieve their sufferings. taking courage, i made my way slowly toward the mill, where i found, on my arrival, the chaplain dismounted, coat off, and wisp in hand, rubbing and brushing every speck of mud from his horse. after performing this important duty, he then went to the nearest house, ordered supper, and after partaking of a warm meal, he returned to the mill. oh how glad i was that all these preliminaries were gone through with, for now he would at once enter upon the care of the wounded, and my heart ached for those two sick boys, who were still attending to the wants of such as they could assist, notwithstanding they required waiting upon themselves. the wounded were coming in faster than ever, and i was busy tearing up the cotton in strips, and trying to bind up some of the poor mangled limbs, the little sick sergeant being my right hand man. i looked around for the chaplain, but he was no where to be seen. i hobbled out to the building where i had seen him put his horse, to see if he had really gone away; no, he had not gone. there he lay on the floor, upon which was a quantity of hay, wrapped up in his blanket, apparently unconscious that there was any such thing as suffering in the world. oh how i wanted to go to him, quietly lay my hand on him, and say: "chaplain, will you be so kind as to take the saddle from my horse; it has been on since early morning, and i am not able to take it off." not that i cared particularly for having the saddle removed, but just for sake of having "reb" bring the chaplain to his senses, and give him a little shaking up, so that he might realize that these were war times, and that consequently it was out of the question for chaplains in the army, especially in time of battle, to be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease; while others fought to win the prize, and sailed through bloody seas. but instead of doing so, i sat down and wept bitter tears of disappointment and sorrow, and then, with a heavy heart and aching limbs, i returned again to the mill. all that weary night my heart burned with indignation, and i seemed endowed with supernatural powers of endurance, for when morning came and found me still at my post, without having tasted food for twenty-four hours, i felt stronger and fresher than i had done the day before. my two young sick friends had been persuaded to lie down, and were now fast asleep, side by side with the wounded. but where was the chaplain? what had become of him? he had escaped with the earliest dawn, without so much as inquiring whether the men were dead or alive. this was the conduct of a man who professed to be a faithful follower of him who went about doing good! this was a man whom i had reverenced and loved as a brother in christ. oh, what a stumbling-block that man was to my soul; for weeks and months satan took occasion to make this a severe temptation and trial to me. i was tempted to judge every christian by that unholy example, and to doubt the truth of every christian experience which i heard related from time to time. but, thank god, i had the example of my faithful friend, mr. b., to counterbalance this, and by god's grace i was enabled to rise above this temptation. my doubts were gradually removed, and my faith in christians re-established--but i never sufficiently recovered from my feelings of disgust towards that particular chaplain, to ever again be able to persuade myself to listen to a sermon delivered by him, or to attend any religious meeting at which he presided. i always looked upon him afterwards, as "one who had stolen the livery of heaven to serve the devil in;" a mere whited sepulchre, and unworthy the sacred name of a minister of the gospel. oh, may our sympathizing breasts that generous pleasure know; kindly to share in others' joy, and weep for others' woe. when poor and helpless sons of grief in deep distress are laid; soft be our hearts their pains to feel, and swift our hands to aid. on wings of love the saviour flew, to bless a ruined race; we would, o lord, thy steps pursue, thy bright example trace. chapter xiv. renewal of the battle--victory for the federal arms--address to the army--more despatches--my battle trophy--pony reb's performances--the hospital tree--touching scenes--bishop simpson--the cross and the flag--after the battle--delays by storms, floods and mud--mcclellan's call for more men--in readiness to march--promised reinforcements. night brought a cessation of hostilities to the weary troops, but to neither side a decided victory or defeat. both armies bivouaced on the bloody field, within a few rods of each other. there they lay waiting for the morning light to decide the contest. the excitement and din of battle had ceased; those brief hours of darkness proved a sweet respite from the fierce struggle of the day, and in the holy calm of that midnight hour, when silence brooded over the blood-washed plain, many brave soldiers lay down on that gory field-- the weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. sunday, the first of june, dawned beautifully, a day of hallowed rest and promise to the millions who rose to their devotions, ere the bell called them to the house of prayer, but not of rest to the weary, broken armies the drum-beat called from their wet and muddy beds to renew the contest. at a quarter-past seven o'clock the battle again commenced, and raged fiercely until about noon. both armies fought with determination and heroic bravery until the rebels were compelled to yield, and victory once more perched upon the banners of the national troops. i came on the field about ten o'clock, and remained until the close of the battle, but could do little more than look upon the terrible scene. general mcclellan was on the field when i arrived. i saw him ride along the entire battle-front, and if i had not seen him, i could not have long remained in ignorance of his presence--for the cheers from all parts of the federal lines told as plainly as words could express that their beloved commander was with them, amid that desperate struggle for victory. it was a terrible slaughter--more than fifteen thousand lay upon the field. it was enough to make angels weep, to look down upon that field of carnage. the dead and wounded of the enemy fell into the hands of the unionists, which added fearfully to the labors of that exhausted, battle-worn army. on the evening of the third of june, general mcclellan issued the following address to his troops, which was read on dress parade, and was received with tremendous cheering: "soldiers of the army of the potomac! i have fulfilled at least a part of my promise to you. you are now face to face with the rebels, who are held at bay in front of their capital. the final and decisive battle is at hand. unless you belie your past history, the result cannot be for a moment doubtful. if the troops who labored so faithfully at yorktown, and fought so bravely, and won the hard fights at williamsburg, west point, hanover court-house and fair oaks, now prove themselves worthy of their antecedents, the victory is surely ours. the events of every day prove your superiority; wherever you have met the enemy, you have beaten him; wherever you have used the bayonet, he has given way in panic and disorder. "i ask of you, now, one last crowning effort. the enemy has staked his all on the issue of the coming battle. let us meet him, crush him here, in the very centre of the rebellion. soldiers! i will be with you in this battle, and share its dangers with you. our confidence in each other is now founded upon the past. let us strike the blow which is to restore peace and union to this distracted land. upon your valor, discipline and mutual confidence, the result depends." every battle fought on the peninsula fearfully reduced the strength of the army of the potomac, and proved to a demonstration that the enemy far outnumbered the union forces. still there were no reinforcements, notwithstanding mcclellan's daily urgent despatches to the president and secretary of war, and the great impending battle in front of the rebel capital so near at hand. the next day mcclellan sent another despatch, as follows: "please inform me at once what reinforcements, if any, i can count upon having at fortress monroe or white house, within the next three days, and when each regiment may be expected to arrive. it is of the utmost importance that i should know this immediately. the losses in the battle of the thirty-first and first will amount to seven thousand. regard this as confidential for the present. after the losses in our last battle, i trust that i shall no longer be regarded as an alarmist. i believe we have at least one more desperate battle to fight." the day after the battle of fair oaks, a splendid sword was presented to me. it had been struck from the hand of a rebel colonel, while in the act of raising it to strike one of our officers after he had fallen from his horse. oh, how proud i felt of that beautiful silver-mounted trophy, from the bloody field of fair oaks, which had so recently been wielded by a powerful arm, but powerless now, for he lay in the agonies of death, while his splendid sword had passed into my feeble hands. i presume if he had known this, it would have added another pang to his already agonized spirit. the sword was presented by general k., to whom i gave my rebel pony, with the comforting assurance that he was only intended for ornament, and not for use; for generals were too scarce on the peninsula to risk their precious lives by coming in contact with him. the general was delighted with him, and without paying the slightest attention to my suggestion deliberately walked up to the pony and commenced patting him and handling his limbs as if he were the most quiet creature in the world, while "reb" stood eyeing his new master with apparent satisfaction, and seemed to rejoice that he had passed from my insignificant hands, and was henceforth to be the honored bearer of shoulder-straps. after thoroughly examining him he said: "he is certainly a splendid horse, and worth three hundred dollars of any man's money; all he requires is kind treatment, and he will be as gentle as any one could desire." but "reb" very soon gave him to understand decidedly that he was overrating his good qualities; for no sooner had the general turned his back toward him than he struck him between the shoulders with both hind feet, sending him his full length upon the ground; and as soon as he attempted to rise he repeated the same performance until he had knocked him down four or five times in succession. by that time the general was pretty thoroughly convinced that "reb's" social qualities were somewhat deficient, his bump of combativeness largely developed, and his gymnastics quite impressive. on the evening of the same day in which the victory was won i visited what was then, and is still called, the "hospital tree," near fair oaks. it was an immense tree under whose shady, extended branches the wounded were carried and laid down to await the stimulant, the opiate, or the amputating knife, as the case might require. the ground around that tree for several acres in extent was literally drenched with human blood, and the men were laid so close together that there was no such thing as passing between them; but each one was removed in their turn as the surgeons could attend to them. i witnessed there some of the most heart-rending sights it is possible for the human mind to conceive. read what a massachusetts chaplain writes concerning it: "there is a large tree near the battle-ground of fair oaks, the top of which was used as an observatory during the fight, which stands as a memento of untold, and perhaps never to be told, suffering and sorrow. many of the wounded and dying were laid beneath its branches after the battle, in order to receive surgical help, or to breathe their last more quietly. what heart-rending scenes did i witness in that place, so full of saddened memories to me and to others. brave, uncomplaining men were brought thither out of the woodland, the crimson tide of whose life was ebbing away in the arms of those who carried them. almost all who died met death like heroes, with scarcely a groan. those wounded, but not mortally--how nobly they bore the necessary probings and needed amputations! two instances of this heroic fortitude deserve to be specially mentioned. one of them is that of william c. bentley, of the second rhode island regiment, both of whose legs were broken by a bomb-shell, whose wrist and breast were mangled, and who yet was as calm as if he suffered no pain. he refused any opiate or stimulant that might dim his consciousness. he asked only that we should pray for him, that he might be patient and submissive, and dictated a letter to be sent to his mother. then, and not till then, opiates were given him, and he fell gently asleep, and for the last time. "the other case was that of francis sweetzer, of company e, of the sixteenth massachusetts regiment, who witnessed in death, as he had uniformly done in life, a good confession of christ. 'thank god,' he said, 'that i am permitted to die for my country. thank god more yet that i am prepared to die;' and then after a moment's thought he modestly added, 'at least i hope i am.' when he died he was in the act of prayer, and in that position his limbs grew rigid, and so remained after the spirit had left his body." oh, who that has witnessed such triumphant deaths on the battle-field will presume to doubt that the spirit of that patriot who falls amid the terrible clash of arms and the fierce surge of battle, is prepared to go from that scene of blood and strife, and to enter into that rest that god has prepared for them that love him? yes, the noble men who have gone from under the sheltering wings of the different evangelical churches throughout the land, have gone in the strength of god, and with the full assurance that if they should fall fighting for the god-given rights of humanity, there, amid the shock of battle, the still, small voice of jesus would be heard speaking peace to the departing soul, and that their triumphant spirits would go home rejoicing to be forever with the lord! when i see a man first lay himself upon the altar of god, and then upon the altar of his country, i have no fear for that man's happiness in time or in eternity. good bishop simpson, of the methodist episcopal church, soon after the outbreak of the great rebellion, delivered a sermon on the national crisis, at chicago. it is represented as one of the ablest efforts of this clergyman, so distinguished for his power in the pulpit. as it was one of the anniversaries of the denomination, thousands were present to hear the discourse. suddenly, at one point in the sermon, and as the fitting close of a most impassioned paragraph, he gave utterance to the following noble sentiment: "we will take our glorious flag, the flag of our country, and nail it just below the cross! that is high enough. there let it wave as it waved of old. around it let us gather: first christ's; then our country's." oh, that the sentiments of the following beautiful lines were the sentiments of every heart in the united states: o lord of hosts! almighty king! behold the sacrifice we bring! to every arm thy strength impart, thy spirit shed through every heart! wake in our breasts the living fires, the holy faith that warmed our sires; thy hand hath made our nation free; to die for her is serving thee. be thou a pillar'd flame to show the midnight snare, the silent foe, and when the battle thunders loud, still guide us in its moving cloud. god of all nations! sovereign lord! in thy dread name we draw the sword, we lift the starry flag on high that fills with light our stormy sky. no more its flaming emblems wave to bar from hope the trembling slave; no more its radiant glories shine to blast with woe one child of thine! from treason's rent, from murderer's stain, guard thou its folds till peace shall reign, till fort and field, till shore and sea, join our loud anthem, praise to thee! i cannot better describe the state of affairs after the battle of fair oaks than by giving the following despatch from mcclellan, dated june th: "in reply to your despatch of p. m. to-day, i have the honor to state that the chickahominy river has risen so as to flood the entire bottoms to the depth of three or four feet; i am pushing forward the bridges in spite of this, and the men are working night and day, up to their waists in water, to complete them. the whole face of the country is a perfect bog, entirely impassable for artillery, or even cavalry, except directly in the narrow roads, which renders any general movement, either of this or the rebel army, entirely out of the question until we have more favorable weather. i am glad to learn that you are pressing forward reinforcements so vigorously. i shall be in perfect readiness to move forward and take richmond the moment mccall reaches here and the ground will admit the passage of artillery. i have advanced my pickets about a mile to-day, driving off the rebel pickets and securing a very advantageous position. the rebels have several batteries established, commanding the debouches from two of our bridges, and fire upon our working parties continually; but as yet they have killed but few of our men." again, june th, he says: "i am completely checked by the weather. the roads and fields are literally impassable for artillery--almost so for infantry. the chickahominy is in a dreadful state. we have another rain storm on our hands. i wish to be distinctly understood that whenever the weather permits i will attack with whatever force i may have, although a larger force would enable me to gain much more decisive results. i would be glad to have mccall's infantry sent forward by water at once, without waiting for his artillery and cavalry." the next day the secretary of war replied: "your despatch of . p. m. yesterday has been received. i am fully impressed with the difficulties mentioned, and which no art or skill can avoid, but only endure. be assured, general, that there never has been a moment when my desire has been otherwise than to aid you with my whole heart, mind and strength, since the hour we first met; and whatever others may say for their own purposes, you never have had, and never can have, any one more truly your friend, or more anxious to support you, or more joyful than i shall be at the success which i have no doubt will soon be achieved by your arms." the above despatch has the appearance of the genuine article--but i am inclined to think it a clever counterfeit. while mcclellan's requests were cheerfully complied with, as far as promises were concerned, little was done to strengthen his weakened forces in view of the coming struggle with an overwhelming force in front, and the flooded chickahominy in the rear. by unreliable promises he was filled with delusive hopes, and lead on to more certain destruction--to disaster and failure, at least. chapter xv. leave of absence--visit to the williamsburg hospitals--effective preaching--yorktown revisited--longings--white house landing--tired of idleness--preparations to return to duty--stuart's cavalry raid--a train fired into--fair oaks grove--the strength of the enemy--trying times on the peninsula--the endurance of our soldiers--labors of mr. alvord. while preparations were going on for the great battle in front of richmond, i obtained leave of absence for a week, and recruited my shattered health, lame side and arm. mr. and mrs. b. were both gone home on furlough, and nellie was at the williamsburg hospital. i thought i should like to visit the different hospitals, while i was thus riding round from place to place in search of something of interest. i visited williamsburg hospitals, both union and rebel, and found many things amusing and interesting. nellie was delighted to see me, and told me much of her experience since the battle of williamsburg. her hand was still in a sling, which reminded me of my first shot at a rebel female. she was a most faithful nurse, and had endeared herself to all the boys by her kindness and patience toward them. she introduced me to several of her favorites, calling each by some pet name, to which they seemed to answer as a matter of course. i spent a day and a night there, and attended a meeting in the evening, which was held by a minister from the christian commission for the benefit of the wounded soldiers. oh, what a sermon was that! the tender mercies of the father, the love of the son of god, were described; the wailings of the lost and the raptures of the redeemed were portrayed in the most powerful and touching manner. i have never heard the sinner invited to the cross in more persuasive strains than flowed from his lips. his countenance was pleasing, his manners courteous, and his deportment unassuming. he did not preach one of those high-toned, intellectual discourses which we so often hear, and which almost invariably fail to reach the heart. but he preached christ with such winning simplicity, such forgetfulness of self, and with such an eager yearning after souls, that even the most depraved were melted to tears. how soul-refreshing is this simple mode of preaching! i seem to see him standing before me now, with uplifted hands, glowing cheeks and streaming eyes--and though i have forgotten much of the discourse, yet i can distinctly remember the impression which it made upon me then. it was good, humbling, purifying. he was evidently not a highly educated man, yet he proclaimed the unsearchable riches of christ in such a way as to make the proudest eloquence and the most profound philosophy, seem in comparison, "like sounding brass or tinkling cymbal." often, when hearing a certain class of ministers preach, i am reminded of the saying of a good baptist clergyman with regard to a. and b., two ministers of his own denomination: "when i hear brother a. preach, i am in love with the man; but when i hear brother b. preach, i am in love with jesus." this is the kind of preaching we want--that which makes us fall in love with jesus, instead of the preacher. oh, that there were more of christ, and less of self, preached. after leaving williamsburg, i kept on down the peninsula until i came to yorktown. after visiting the hospitals there, i then went to the old camp where i had spent so many weeks. there were the dear old familiar places, but all that gave them interest were gone now. the old saw-mill, too, was gone, and all that remained was a heap of ruins, to tell where it once stood. but there was a spot undisturbed, away in the corner of the peach orchard, under an isolated pear tree, a heaped up mound, underneath which rested the noble form of lieutenant v. it was sweet to me to visit this spot once more. i knew that in all probability it would be the last time; at least for a long period, perhaps forever. when this frail body shall be done with earth, and this heart shall be free from care; when my spirit enters that other world, oh, say, shall i know thee there? when the last hours of life are closing around and death's summons cometh to me; will god send an angel messenger down? shall i know the bright spirit as thee? rest weary heart, rest patient and wait, till thy happiness cometh to thee; thou'lt meet and thou'lt know when thou gainest that shore which opes to eternity. from yorktown i went to the white house landing, where everything looked neat, orderly, peaceful and happy, as a quiet little country village. the grounds were laid out in broad streets and squares, which were swept clean as a floor, and there were long rows of snow-white tents, with their neatly printed cotton sign-boards, "to guide the traveler on his way" to the different head-quarters, provost marshal, hospital, sutlers, blacksmith, etc. after spending a day there, and beginning to feel tired of idleness, i made up my mind to return to camp again. so going to colonel ingalls, i procured transportation for myself and horse, and stepping aboard of a provision train destined for fair oaks station, i anticipated a pleasant ride; but, as usual, was blessed with quite a little adventure before i reached my destination. the train started, and, after steaming over the road for some time at its usual rate, had reached the vicinity of tunstall's station, when we heard the down train whistle, and immediately after a sharp volley of musketry was fired in the same direction. the engineer switched off the track, and awaited the other train. it came thundering on as if the engineer was possessed by the _sauve qui peut_ spirit, and, as it passed, the wildest confusion was visible on board, and the groans of the wounded could be heard above the screaming of the engine. on it went, like a streak of lightning, signaling for our train to follow. there was no time to be lost; our train was immediately in hot pursuit of the other, and both were soon at the white house. among those i saw taken from the cars wounded, was the spy whom i had met in the rebel camp in front of yorktown, and heard haranguing his fellow countryman upon the important service he had rendered the confederate government, and confessing himself to be the cause of lieutenant's v's death. everything was thrown into wild confusion by the arrival of the trains and the news of the attack. the troops at the white house were immediately called out under arms to protect the depot. all this excitement had been produced by a detachment of stuart's cavalry, consisting of about fifteen hundred men, and which resulted in the slight disaster to the train; the burning of two schooners laden with forage, and fourteen government wagons; the destruction of some sutler's stores; the killing of several of the guard and teamsters; some damage done to tunstall's station; and the tearing up of a portion of the railroad. there was but little damage done to the train, considering that there were three hundred passengers. some military officers of high rank were on board, who would have been a rich prize for the rebels if they had succeeded in capturing the train; but it had eluded their grasp by the admirable conduct and presence of mind of the engineer, who crowded on all possible steam, and escaped with his freight of human life with only a loss of fourteen in killed and wounded. as soon as the wounded were taken care of i visited the provost marshal, and made known the fact that there was among the wounded a rebel spy who required immediate attention. he sent a guard with me, who searched his person and found satisfactory proof that my statement was correct. he was only slightly wounded, and by the time the railroad was repaired he was able to bear the fatigue of a journey to headquarters, and i returned to camp. on the twenty-fifth of june the battle of fair oaks grove was fought. hooker's command had been ordered to occupy a new and important position, when they were suddenly attacked while passing through a dense thicket and almost impassable swamp. the foe was gradually pushed back until he was obliged to seek safety behind his rifle-pits. about noon general mcclellan, who had remained at headquarters to communicate with the left wing, rode upon the field and, to the joy of his soldiers, ordered them again to advance. the order was cheerfully obeyed, and after renewed desperate fighting, at sunset the day was won by the federal arms. at this time it was not necessary for me to use any stratagem in order to visit the rebel encampment, for all that was necessary to be known of the rebel force and movements had been already ascertained. consequently i was quietly awaiting further developments, and while waiting was trying to make myself generally useful in the hospitals. a singular case came under my notice there: that of a man being stunned by the near approach of a cannon-ball. it did not come in contact with even his clothing, and yet he was knocked down senseless, and for several days he could neither hear nor speak. i think the most trying time that the army of the potomac ever had on the peninsula was in front of richmond, just before the seven days' battle--that is to say, if anything could be worse than the seven day's battle itself. a heavy and almost incessant firing was kept up day and night, along the entire left wing, and the men were kept in those rifle pits, (to say in water to the knees is a very moderate estimate), day after day, until they looked like fit subjects for the hospital or lunatic asylum, and those troops in camp who were not supposed to be on duty, but were kept in reserve, were often called out ten times in one night. the firing would become so alarmingly hot that it was supposed a general engagement was at hand; but on going out to the front, perhaps it would cease for a moment, then they would be ordered back to camp again. in that manner i have known the entire force to be kept in motion almost all night, and sleep for any one was a thing out of the question. it soon became evident that there was some movement on foot which was not understood by the great mass of the army, and i have no doubt it was a good thing that the troops did not even imagine that a retreat was already being planned by their commander. the men endured all these hardships most uncomplainingly; yes, cheerfully; and every day was supposed to be the last ere they would walk the streets of richmond triumphantly, and thus reap the fruits of their summer's campaign. the constant fire kept up along the entire line, and the frequent charges made upon rifle-pits, rapidly increased the numbers in the hospital, and kept the surgeons and nurses busy night and day, and then they could not attend to all who required assistance. just at this particular juncture i remember the timely aid afforded by the members of the christian commission and tract society. they brought relief not only in one sense, but in many. spiritual food for the hungry, dying soldier--consolation for the worn out and discouraged--delicacies for the sick and feeble--warm-gushing heart sympathy for the suffering, and actual assistance with their own hands in cases of amputations, and the removal of the sick from one place to another. rev. mr. alvord gives a very modest account of the services which he rendered, when he says: "i went to the hospitals, where i worked hour after hour with the surgeons. men were brought in with all sorts of wounds. surgeons were scarce and were engaged in amputations, so you know i could attend to minor matters. where the bullet had gone through body or limb, i could dress it perhaps as well as any one; also, all sorts of flesh wounds. i cannot tell you of the variety of operations i performed. the wounds had been stiffening since the day before, not having been dressed. i enjoyed the work, as in every case such relief was given. then i could carry water to the thirsty, and speak words of comfort to the dying; for, as you may suppose, there were many in this state." again he says: "just now, by my side, lies a philadelphia zouave, a fine boy to whom i have been ministering. i gave him some hot tea, with the charming crackers mr. broughton sent; he is now sitting up, looking more cheerful. i mention this in detail, that you may have a specimen of the work which occupies one every moment through the day and night, who is able or willing to work in this department. on the other side of me, as i write here on my knees, lies a colored boy, haggard and sick, to whom i have given medicine and similar food. his dark face is full of gratitude." many an hour i have worked and watched in hospitals by the side of mr. alvord, and marked his cheerful christian spirit and warm sympathies for the sufferers. and often, on a march, i have gone to him, and asked if he would let some weary sick soldier ride in his carriage, who had fallen out by the way--and my request was never refused, although to do so he would sometimes have to walk through the mud himself, his horse being frequently heavily loaded. i have also distributed publications for him, and have stood by the cot of many a dying soldier where he has ministered consolation to the departing spirit. he is one of those who will have many stars in his crown of rejoicing when eternity unfolds the results of his faithful labors. chapter xvi. change of base across the peninsula--evacuation of white house--the movement--battle of mechanicsville--gaines' mill--a repulse--mcclellan's despatch--hospitals in danger--convalescent officers--lending my horse--a lottery--inspecting farm stock--catching a colt--danger of capture--riding for life--between two fires. the employment of general mcdowell's force in the defense of washington, and its failure to co-operate by land with mcclellan, necessitated on the part of the army of the potomac an immediate change of base across the peninsula. such a change in the face of a powerful enemy is considered one of the most hazardous undertakings in war. but mcclellan had no doubt of the ability of his army to fight its way, even against superior numbers, through to the james river, and thus secure a new position for an advance against richmond. the entire energy of the army was now directed to this object. a despatch was sent by general van vliet, chief quartermaster of the army of the potomac, to colonel ingalls, quartermaster at white house, as follows: "run the cars to the last moment, and load them with provision and ammunition. load every wagon you have with subsistence, and send them to savage's station, by way of bottom's bridge. if you are obliged to abandon white house, burn everything that you cannot get off. you must throw all our supplies up the james river as soon as possible, and accompany them yourself with all your force. it will be of vast importance to establish our depots on james river, without delay, if we abandon white house. i will keep you advised of every movement so long as the wires work; after that you must exercise your own judgment." all these commands were obeyed. so excellent were the dispositions of the different officers in command of the troops, depots and gunboats, and so thorough was the warning of the approach of the enemy, that almost everything was saved, and but a small amount of stores was destroyed to prevent them from falling into the hands of the enemy. general stoneman's communications with the main army being cut off, he fell back upon white house station, thence to yorktown, when white house was evacuated. on the twenty-sixth instant orders were sent to all the corps commanders on the right bank of the chickahominy to be prepared to send as many troops as they could spare on the following day to the left bank of the river. general franklin received instructions to hold general slocum's division in readiness by daybreak on the twenty-seventh, and if heavy firing should at that time be heard in the direction of general porter, to move at once to his assistance without further orders. at noon, on the twenty-sixth, the approach of the enemy, who had crossed above meadow bridge, was discovered by the advanced pickets at that point, and at half-past twelve in the afternoon they were attacked and driven in. all the pickets were now called in, and the regiment and battery at mechanicsville were withdrawn. about three o'clock in the afternoon the enemy formed his line of battle, and came down upon our troops like a torrent--attacking the entire line. mcclellan, anticipating a fierce onset, was prepared for such an event, and gave him a warm reception. our artillery occupied positions commanding all the roads and open ground. timber had been felled, rifle-pits dug, and the infantry were under cover of the thick woods. all remained quiet until the rebel mass came rushing on--yelling as they came--within a short distance of our line, when every battery and division opened simultaneously a most destructive fire, which drove the enemy back with tremendous slaughter. several other attacks were made on our lines during the afternoon, which proved disastrous to the enemy. at nine o'clock in the evening the firing ceased, the action having lasted six hours. during the night the heavy siege guns and wagons were removed to the right bank of the chickahominy, and most of the troops withdrawn, unknown to the enemy. about noon the next day another general engagement came on, and after seven hours hard fighting the left flank of the federal line was turned, and they were driven from their position. general mcclellan says: "about seven o'clock in the evening they threw fresh troops against general porter with still greater fury, and finally gained the woods held by our left. this reverse, aided by the confusion that followed an unsuccessful charge by five companies of the fifth cavalry, and followed as it was by more determined assaults on the remainder of our lines, now outflanked, caused a general retreat from our position to the hill in rear overlooking the bridge. french's and meagher's brigades now appeared, driving before them the stragglers who were thronging toward the bridge. these brigades advanced boldly to the front, and by their example, as well as by the steadiness of their bearing, reanimated our troops and warned the enemy that reinforcements had arrived. it was now dusk. the enemy, already repulsed several times with terrible slaughter, and hearing the shouts of the fresh troops, failed to follow up their advantage. this gave an opportunity to rally our men behind the brigades of generals french and meagher, and they again advanced up the hill, ready to repulse another attack. during the night our thinned and exhausted regiments were all withdrawn in safety, and by the following morning all had reached the other side of the stream." a despatch from general mcclellan to secretary stanton, on the twenty-eighth, tells a sad story, a part of which i quote: "had i twenty thousand, or even ten thousand fresh troops to use to-morrow, i could take richmond; but i have not a man in reserve, and shall be glad to cover my retreat, and save the material and _personnel_ of the army. if we have lost the day, we have yet preserved our honor, and no one need blush for the army of the potomac. i have lost this battle because my force was too small. i again repeat that i am not responsible for this, and i say it with the earnestness of a general who feels in his heart the loss of every brave man who has been needlessly sacrificed to-day. "in addition to what i have already said, i only wish to say to the president that i think he is wrong in regarding me as ungenerous, when i said that my force was too weak. i merely intimated a truth which to-day has been too plainly proved. if, at this instant, i could dispose of ten thousand fresh men, i could gain the victory to-morrow. i know that a few thousand more men would have changed this defeat to a victory. as it is, the government must not and cannot hold me responsible for the result. "i feel too earnestly to-night. i have seen too many dead and wounded comrades to feel otherwise than that the government has not sustained this army. if you do not do so now, the game is lost. if i save this army now, i tell you plainly that i owe no thanks to you, or to any other persons in washington. you have done your best to sacrifice this army." while the battle of gaines' mill was in progress, i was despatched to several hospitals remote from the direct line of communication, with orders to the surgeons, nurses, and such of the patients as could walk, to take care of themselves as best they could, for no ambulances could reach them; that the army was retreating to the james river, and if they remained longer they would fall into the hands of the enemy. at one of the hospitals, about eight miles distant, i found a captain and three lieutenants with whom i was acquainted. they were just recovering from fever and unable to endure much fatigue, but could probably reach the james river if they should try. i was beset on every side to give up my horse to one and to another of them until i knew not what to say or do. i did not feel unwilling to give my horse to assist them in escaping from the rebels, and walk all the way myself, but i knew i was expected to return immediately and report to the officer in command of the ambulance corps, and undoubtedly would be required to perform other missions during the day. but all such excuses as these were thrown into the shade by the powerful oratory of the convalescent captain, who poured forth a vehement torrent of overwhelming arguments which would have made a less experienced messenger believe that the horse was for the captain individually, had been sent for his especial benefit, and was consequently entirely at his disposal. his eloquence had not quite this effect upon me, notwithstanding i decided to give up my horse and to take the consequences. i did not feel so particularly drawn toward captain a. as to let him have the horse entirely to himself, and to leave the other three poor fellows to live or die. upon coming to the conclusion, after mature deliberation, to part with my faithful horse, the same one i rode on the bull run battle-field, i informed those officers of my intention. but, said i, not for the benefit of any one of you in particular, but for the mutual benefit of all four; then i proceeded to make arrangements that two of them should ride alternately, and not faster than the other two could walk. then i took two slips of paper and told them to cast lots to see who should ride first. after they had drawn the lots to settle this matter, and the poor captain was doomed to foot it the first part of the journey, and i saw that he looked rather maliciously at me, as much as to say that i had assisted fate in deciding that he should walk instead of ride, the thought struck me that there would probably be some trouble when it came his turn to ride. so i delivered the following brief lecture, which was especially intended for his ear: "gentlemen, you are aware that by giving you my horse i am running the risk of incurring major n.'s displeasure, and am exposing myself to the very danger from which i am assisting you to escape. now, in return, i make one request of you, that is that you all do as you have agreed to; don't play false one with the other. those who ride are not to go faster than the others can walk, and you are to ride equal distances as near as you may be able to judge, unless otherwise arranged among yourselves. the horse you are to have taken care of when you arrive at your destination. i trust these matters to your honor, but if honor should forget to assert its rights, the case will be reported at headquarters." there were several others in the same hospital, but some were unconscious of the state of affairs around them; others were conscious, but unable to help themselves in the least. one of the noble hearted nurses refused to leave those helpless men, whom he had taken care of so long, and was taken prisoner. i marked that noble boy's countenance, dress and general appearance, and by making inquiry afterwards i found out that his name was j. robbins, of the second michigan regiment, and after he had undergone the hardships of imprisonment and had been exchanged, i had the honor of meeting and congratulating him, i felt that it was a greater honor than to converse with many of our major generals. as i turned to retrace my steps i began to think over the lottery business, and wondered if i had not introduced a species of gambling into my charitable deed. i did not feel clear on this point until i thought of reading in the bible something about casting lots. yes, it must be right, for there were instances of it in the bible. i tried to remember an instance to find out in what connection i had read it, but my mind was quite confused, and it required some time to recall one of those passages. after a while, however, i thought of the one where the roman soldiers cast lots for the vestments of the saviour, but this text did not bring much comfort to my mind; i was somehow reminded of the woman who had named her child beelzebub because it was a scripture name, and i concluded to leave the further discussion of the subject until a more convenient season. i remembered now of having noticed a farm house when i came that way in the mornings around which were a number of horses, mules, or something of that sort, and i thought it would be well to investigate the matter. moving along in that direction as fast as possible, i soon came to the house and saw the animals there, feeding as before. whatever i intended to do must be done quickly, for the near approach of the cannonading warned me that the army was fast retreating and i would soon be cut off from the james river road. i went at once to examine the stock on the farm for the purpose of ascertaining whether there was anything worth appropriating. there were four splendid mules and a colt, but whether the colt was a two year old or ten i could not tell, for it was very small and very handsome, looking much like an indian pony, and it might be a dozen years old. but the all absorbing questions in my mind were how was i going to secure this colt, and if i should catch him what was i going to do with him, having neither saddle nor bridle? i went to the barn, looked around and found an old halter that, for want of something better, would be of service. now was the time to catch the colt, but this was easier said than done, for upon going towards it i found that it was about as wild as a young buffalo. not discouraged, however, i started it, together with the mules, in the direction of the barn, and opened a door leading into a long shed connected with the barn. this plan succeeded admirably, for they all ran into the shed without the least trouble. but the greatest difficulty was to put the halter on the colt and get on his back; however, i at length succeed, and, mounting it, started toward james river. the enemy had by this time succeeded in driving the federals from their first position, and were now between them and me. turning off from the main road, i struck out into the woods and rode as fast as possible. the woods were open and clear so that i could see a long way ahead. on i went until i came near a little thicket so dense that i could not see anything beyond its border. not daring to go into any place which looked suspicious, i turned to go round it, when my ear caught the click, click of a dozen rifles, and a shower of minnie balls came round me thick as hailstones, but not one of them pierced even my clothing. my colt took fright at this unexpected salute, and plunged into the woods in another direction with the speed of lightning. [illustration: riding for life.--page .] i soon came to an open field and saw in the distance a large number of soldiers. one glance convinced me that they were federals, for they wore united states uniform. bounding over the field in an instant i had come within a hundred yards of them before i noticed that they were prisoners, guarded by a band of rebels. the first thing that caused me to discover this fact was one of the prisoners waving his hand for me to go in another direction, upon seeing which one of the rebel guards sprang forward and struck the prisoner with the butt of his musket. this little demonstration revealed to me at once my position, and turning i fled in the direction indicated by the prisoner, when another volley followed me which proved as harmless as the first. i began now to think that i was about as safe inside the rebel lines as anywhere, for their bullets seemed quite harmless so far as i was personally concerned. i remembered that when i was a child, i heard my mother once tell a scotch presbyterian clergyman she was afraid i would meet with some violent death, for i was always in some unheard of mischief, such as riding the wildest colt on the farm, firing off my father's shot-gun, and climbing to the highest point of the buildings. to which the good old predestinarian replied: "ah weel, my guid woman, dinna fret; it is an auld saying, an' i believe a true one, 'a wean that's born to be hung 'ill ne'er be droon'd.'" then turning to me and laying his hand on my head, he said: "but, me wee lassie, ye mauna tempt providence wi' your madcap antics, or ye may no live oot half your days." i did not know after all but that the fates were reserving me for a more exalted death on the scaffold at richmond--for the old minister's words would occasionally ring in my ears: "if the wean is born to be hung it will ne'er be droon'd"--and, i added, or be shot either. i was now outside of the rebel lines, but i was just between two fires, and tremendous hot ones at that, for the whole lines were a perfect blaze both of musketry and artillery. nothing but the power of the almighty could have shielded me from such a storm of shot and shell, and brought me through unscathed. it seems to me now that it was almost as much of a miracle as that of the three hebrew children coming forth from the fiery furnace without even the smell of fire upon them. chapter xvii. withdrawal to malvern hill--the soldier's last watch--trowbridge's grave--scenes in a hospital--capture of the wounded--a noble surgeon--line of battle--hard fighting--the enemy repulsed--hunting for food--in a farm-house--perilous position--securing the spoils--relief of the famishing--sublime scene--on the march--general keyes--gun-boats--arrival at harrison's landing--sad condition of troops--our losses--mcclellan's address to the army. when i reached the main army the troops had gained a new position, and were driving the enemy back. the troops were well nigh exhausted, yet fighting bravely and determinedly. night came and put an end to that day's battle, but instead of spending the night in taking care of our poor wounded men, we were obliged to retreat, under cover of darkness, to malvern hill, and leave our wounded in the hands of the enemy. of the many who died from exhaustion, as well as wounds, during our retreat from the vicinity of richmond, i know of none more worthy of record than that of a young man of my acquaintance who died on the field the night after this battle. he was not wounded, but died at his post from sheer exhaustion. in the course of the evening, i had seen and offered him some brandy from my flask, which i had for the wounded. he was then scarcely able to stand on his feet, yet he refused to take the brandy, saying, "that others needed it more than he did; and besides," said he, "i never take any intoxicating liquor under any circumstances." a notice of his death by an eye-witness, given under the heading, "the soldier's last watch," says: "a lonely grave, a little apart from others, stands on the ground of one of the battles fought in the retreat from richmond, in the summer of , which bears on its wooden head-board simply the name, trowbridge. "the turf covers the remains of a youthful soldier who was not only brave and patient, but exemplary as a christian. those battles renewed from day to day, and attended by so many hardships, destroyed many lives, in addition to those lost in conflict with the enemy. hundreds and thousands of our gallant men, worn out by marches, fighting, hunger, and loss of sleep, became discouraged, and either recklessly threw themselves into the jaws of death, or fell into the hands of the enemy, because they were unable to keep up with their more robust, though not braver companions. "the circumstances of the death of one of these silent martyrs to their country were taken down from the lips of a soldier who was with him in his last hours. it is all that may be known, save to a few bleeding hearts, of one who, alas! like so many others, sleeps in that saddest of all places, a battle-field. the worn-out soldier, the day before his death, said to his lieutenant, 'i am so weak and helpless, i do not know what i can do further.' he was told to lie down, and get what rest he could on the battle-field. about ten at night, said his companion, as we were talking together, an officer of the company came up, and told us we should retreat at two o'clock in the morning. he ordered us to stand guard till then, two hours each in turn. we took straws, and drew lots to decide who should stand first. the lot fell on trowbridge. i threw myself on the ground, under a tree, with my blanket drawn over me, and was soon fast asleep. at twelve i was aroused, but said, 'you must be mistaken; it cannot be five minutes since i lay down.' we had been ordered not to speak aloud, or to have a light; and he replied in a whisper, 'feel the hands of my watch--it is twelve.' "i took his place, and he was soon asleep, or seemed to be. at half-past one o'clock the order came to move. i went to awake trowbridge, but had no answer, except that he groaned heavily once and again. i tried to soothe him, and awake him gently, but he turned aside his head, groaned once more, and was gone. i struck a match, and looked upon his features; they were set, and ghastly in death. i placed his hand on my cheek, and asked him if he was still conscious to press it. there was no response; life was evidently extinct. "i made an attempt to find the surgeon, or chaplain, but they had both gone forward with the army. so i searched his pockets, and taking from them six dollars for his mother, and a letter directed to himself, i replaced the envelope, that his name, at least, might be known to those who should find the body. several days after this, i was one of the number detailed to go back to that spot and bury the dead. on searching near the place where trowbridge died, i found a grave with a wooden tablet, bearing his name. not far distant was a house at which i called, and asked the inmates if they knew anything of that grave. the woman of the family then brought forward an envelope, (the very one that i had replaced), and said they had buried a soldier there, from whose pocket it was taken. it was a relief to know what had become of the body. of course i wrote to his mother, sending the money, and giving an account of her son's last moments, and his burial." this is only a solitary instance of the bravery and faithfulness of the men who fought those terrible battles, day after day, many of whom died with their muskets in their hands, and without receiving a wound, died from hunger, thirst, and fatigue. there was a farm-house near the battle-field, to which the wounded were carried, and the surgeons of the union army made it their headquarters during the battle. i will not attempt to describe the scenes which i witnessed in that building, for it beggars all description. the poor fellows seemed to know that they could not be removed, and would inevitably fall into the hands of the enemy. one man asked a surgeon, who had just performed an operation on one of his arms, "doctor, is there no alternative--must i be taken prisoner?" the doctor was only a boy in appearance, a little scotchman, and as noble-hearted a man as ever amputated a limb. he replied, in broad scotch, "no, my man, there is no alternative; but keep up a good heart, i am not going to leave you, i shall be a prisoner for your sakes, and will take care of you as long as i can." he did so, and was really taken prisoner, but was not permitted to do much for those for whom he had made such a noble sacrifice. he was doctor cleland, of detroit, michigan. when the order was given to retreat that night, i started with my colt, having a good saddle and bridle on him now, which i had taken off a dead horse on the battle-field, and reached malvern hill about two o'clock in the morning. after hitching my horse, and unstrapping a small bag of oats and my blanket from the saddle, i fed him, and proceeded to take a glance around, to see how things looked. the artillery was already in position, and the weary troops were in line of battle, but flat on the ground and fast asleep--all except the guards, who were pacing backward and forward in front of the line, ready to arouse the sleepers at any moment. feeling safe to consign myself to the arms of morpheus after this reconnoissance, i returned, wrapped myself in my blanket, and slept until the thundering of cannon awoke me in the morning. malvern hill is an elevated plateau, about a mile and a half by three-fourths of a mile in area, nearly cleared of timber, and with several converging roads running over it. in front there are numerous ravines. the ground slopes gradually toward the northeast to the wooded plain beyond, giving clear ranges for artillery in different directions. the batteries were advantageously posted on those hills, while the reserve troops were sheltered as much as possible by the ravines. the artillery of the reserve was placed in position so as to bring the concentrated fire of sixty guns to bear upon the enemy's front and left, approaching from richmond or white oak swamp. the brave colonel tyler, first connecticut, with great exertion succeeded in getting ten of his siege guns in position on the highest point of the hill; the men having to haul many of them up by hand. commodore rodgers, commanding the flotilla on james river, placed his gun-boats in position to protect the left flank and to command the approaches from richmond. the battle commenced about nine o'clock in the morning, and raged all day with terrible fury. at three in the afternoon the enemy attacked our right and center with tremendous force both of artillery and infantry. the artillery was replied to with good effect, but our infantry lay upon the ground and withheld their fire until the advancing column was within short musket range, when they sprang to their feet and poured in a deadly volley which entirely broke the attacking force, and drove the rebels back some eight hundred yards in great confusion. the battle raged most furiously hour after hour, the enemy advancing in massive column, often without order, but with perfect recklessness; and the concentrated fire of our gun-boats, batteries and infantry mowing down the advancing host in a most fearful manner, until the slain lay in heaps upon the field. at four o'clock the firing ceased along the rebel line, and it was supposed the battle was over; but it proved only a calm before a more terrible storm. at six o'clock the enemy suddenly opened upon the left of our line with the whole strength of his artillery, and fiercely pushed forward his column of attack to carry the hill. his infantry in immense force formed under cover of the woods, and starting on a run across the open space, charging almost up to the muzzle of the guns of our advance batteries, came rushing on with yells and imprecations--but in a moment the whole hill was one blaze of light--those terrible siege guns had belched forth a murderous fire, and a simultaneous volley from the gun boats, infantry and numerous batteries, sent the enemy reeling back to shelter, leaving the ground covered with their dead and wounded. then our men dashed forward with the bayonet, with wild shouts and cheers, capturing prisoners and colors, and driving the routed rebels in confusion from the field. at a little past four in the afternoon, when there was a lull in the terrible storm of grape and cannister, i ventured to go to a house which stood about half way between our line of battle and that of the enemy. i found a large quantity of flour, bacon, smoked ham, etc. the appearance of everything in the house indicated that the family had left suddenly, without disturbing anything. the dishes were on the table, as if the family had risen from dinner; the beds and bedding too remained undisturbed; the late inhabitants seemed to have thought of nothing but of saving their lives and escaping from the yankees. [illustration: food for the famishing.--page .] i was not long in searching cupboard, pantry and store-room, and appropriating tea, baking-soda, cream-of-tartar, et cetera. but in order to reach the house unobserved by the rebels i had been obliged to crawl there on my hands and feet, and now the question arose how was i to carry anything back with me? taking a bed-quilt i spread it on the floor and commenced selecting the most important articles, such as a small bag of flour, ham, an iron spider, a large coffee-pot, and some other things; after tying these up in the quilt i attached a long bed-cord to the bundle, intending to drag it along the ground. just as i was completing my arrangements, a shell came crashing through the side of the house, and passing through the window on the opposite side, it made the house tremble as if shaken by an earthquake. then another and another came in quick succession until i was obliged to seek refuge in the cellar. the rebels evidently thought that the house contained a band of our sharpshooters, and were determined to dislodge them if possible, for they brought three pieces to bear upon it for about twenty minutes, until they succeeded in setting it on fire. before the echo of the last shot had died away i heard the crackling of the fire above my head, and thought it prudent to make an attempt to escape. i did not find it very difficult to do so, as the fire was principally confined to the upper part of the house. so taking my precious burden of provisions, which still lay unharmed on the floor, i began my retreat in the same manner in which i had advanced, drawing my pack after me by means of the cord. i could not make much progress, however, for i found it very difficult to drag that immense weight over the rough ground. but i at length succeeded in reaching the lines, and was hailed by hearty cheers from those who were anxiously awaiting the result of my hazardous mission. several of the boys caught up the spoil and carried it to the rear, where we built a fire and commenced cooking immediately. an hour later we had a nice lot of hot bread, fried ham and tea ready for disposal. oh, i shall never forget the thrill of pleasure which i experienced when i carried this food and set it before those famishing men, and saw them eat it with a sort of awe and reverence as if it had fallen from heaven. one of the men looked up, with moistened eyes, and said: "bob, do you know that this food has been sent us by our heavenly father, just as much as the manna was sent to the children of israel? that boy risked his life in procuring it for us, but he never would have returned from that burning building if god had not shielded him from the bursting shell. i believe it has just come in time to save me from sharing the fate of poor trowbridge." the battle of malvern hill presented, by far, the most sublime spectacle i ever witnessed. all the battles i had seen before, and those which i have seen since, were nothing to be compared to it. the elevated position which the army occupied, the concentration of such an immense force in so small compass, such a quantity of artillery on those hills all in operation at the same time, the reflection of the flashes of fire from hundreds of guns upon the dense cloud of smoke which hung suspended in the heavens, turning it into a pillar of fire which reminded one of the camp of the israelites and of god's dealings with his people of old, the vivid flashes of lightning, the terrific peals of thunder mingled with the continuous blaze of musketry, sudden explosions of shell and the deafening roar of cannon, combined to make a scene which was _awfully grand_. my soul was filled with the sublimity and grandeur of the scene, notwithstanding the ghastly wounds and piteous groans of the mangled, helpless ones around me. thus it continued from seven to nine in the evening, the most thrilling picture which the imagination can conceive. as soon as the firing ceased the rear of the army began to move off in the direction of harrison's landing, and the exhausted troops in front threw themselves upon the ground to rest. the greater portion of the transportation of the army having been started for harrison's landing during the night, the order was at once issued for the movement of the army upon the final repulse of the enemy at malvern hill. the troops were to move by the left and rear; general keyes' corps being ordered to remain in position until all had moved off--then to cover the retreat. general mcclellan, in his official report, awards great credit to general keyes for the manner in which he carried out these orders. he took every advantage of the ground to open new avenues to aid the movement, and made preparations to obstruct the roads as soon as the army had withdrawn. in this way the march to harrison's landing was continued; the bridges were all destroyed and timber felled across the roads immediately after the army passed, thus rendering any rapid pursuit by the enemy impossible. the trains were kept in the middle of the road, leaving room for the infantry on each side, so as to be in good position to repel any attack which might be made during the march. his dispositions were so successful that, to use his own words: "i do not think more vehicles or any more public property were abandoned on the march from turkey bridge than would have been left, in the same state of the roads, if the army had been moving toward the enemy instead of away from him; and when it is understood that the carriages and teams belonging to the army, stretched out in one line, would extend not far from forty miles, the energy and caution necessary for their safe withdrawal from the presence of an enemy in vastly superior numbers will be appreciated." "high praise," says the commanding general, "is also due to the officers and men of the first connecticut artillery, colonel tyler, for the manner in which they withdrew all the heavy guns during the seven days and from malvern hill. owing to the crowded state of the roads the teams could not be brought within a couple of miles of the position; but these energetic soldiers removed the guns by hand for that distance, leaving nothing behind." the enemy followed the army with a small force, and occasionally threw a few shells at the rear-guard, but were quickly dispersed by our batteries and gun-boats, and on the evening of the third of july the entire army reached the landing. the troops presented a most distressing appearance as they drew up in line, and stacked their guns at harrison's bar. the rain had been pouring down most of the night, and was still drenching the poor battle-worn, foot-sore soldiers, and turning the roads into beds of mortar, and the low marshy ground at the landing into such a condition that it was impossible to get along dry shod, except for those who rejoiced in the possession of high boots. the aggregate of our entire losses in the seven days' battles, from the twenty-sixth of june to the first of july, inclusive, was ascertained, after arriving at harrison's landing, to be fifteen thousand two hundred and forty-nine, namely: fifteen hundred and eighty-two killed; seven thousand seven hundred and nine wounded, and five thousand nine hundred and fifty-eight missing. on the fourth of july the following address was issued to the troops by general mcclellan: "headquarters, army of the potomac _camp near harrison's landing_, july , . "soldiers of the army of the potomac:--your achievements of the last ten days have illustrated the valor and endurance of the american soldier. attacked by superior forces, and without hope of reinforcements, you have succeeded in changing your base of operations by a flank movement, always regarded as the most hazardous of military expedients. you have saved all your material, all your trains and all your guns, except a few lost in battle, taking in return guns and colors from the enemy. upon your march, you have been assailed day after day, with desperate fury, by men of the same race and nation, skillfully massed and led. under every disadvantage of number, and necessarily of position also, you have in every conflict beaten back your foes with enormous slaughter. your conduct ranks you among the celebrated armies of history. no one will now question that each of you may always with pride say: 'i belong to the army of the potomac.' you have reached the new base, complete in organization and unimpaired in spirit. the enemy may at any moment attack you. we are prepared to meet them. i have personally established your lines. let them come, and we will convert their repulse into a final defeat. your government is strengthening you with the resources of a great people. on this, our nation's birth-day, we declare to our foes, who are enemies against the best interests of mankind, that this army shall enter the capital of the so-called confederacy; that our national constitution shall prevail, and that the union, which can alone insure internal peace and external security to each state, 'must and shall be preserved,' cost what it may in time, treasure, and blood." chapter xviii. return of old acquaintances--the wounded colonel--i visit washington--military display--epaulets--aristocracy--spirit of johnny bull--soldiers' free library--contraband camp--negro testimony--patient charley--painful position--brother's last conversation--return to the army--christian commission--general howard's speech. about a week after we arrived at harrison's landing a number of our absent ones joined us, among whom were mr. and mrs. b., nellie, jack, my wounded darkie friend from williamsburg hospital, and last and least of all came that pusillanimous coward, colonel ----, whom i had assisted in carrying from the field at the battle of williamsburg, and whom doctor e. had ordered back to his regiment under penalty of being reported to his superior officer. the next day after the arrival of this individual i received a message requesting me to appear at the headquarters of the ---- regiment. i started immediately, and found to my astonishment that it was this colonel who desired an interview with me. he had been gone on furlough ever since the battle of williamsburg, and had played his cards so well that he had been promoted to the command of a brigade. he had also managed, by false representations, to have the following notice inserted in the leading newspapers of his native state, viz.: "colonel ---- was severely wounded at the battle of williamsburg, while gallantly leading a desperate charge on the enemy's works, and was carried from the field, but no sooner had the surgeons bound up his wound than the noble and patriotic colonel returned again to his command and led his men again and again upon the foe, until the day was won; when he sank upon the ground, exhausted from loss of blood and fatigue, and was carried the second time by his men from the field." the paper in which this false statement was published found its way to camp, and doctor e. replied to it, somewhat changing the editor's sentiments with regard to the conduct of the "noble and patriotic colonel." he, the colonel, had now returned to wreak vengeance upon doctor e. going to his tent i found the colonel alone. he arose as i entered, and in rather an excited manner spoke as follows: "i am informed that you are one of the persons who carried me off the field when i was wounded at williamsburg, and witnessed the infamous conduct of doctor e., and heard the insulting language which he used toward me." i did not reply, but stood gazing at the man before me. he looked me in the face for the first time since i entered, and discovering the smile of contempt which i could not suppress, he seized me roughly by the arm and exclaimed: "see here boy, what do you mean? why do you not answer me?" i replied with provoking coolness and the same sarcastic smile: "pardon me, sir, i was not aware that you asked me a direct question; i understood you to say that you were informed that i was one of the persons who carried you off the battle-field at williamsburg. i have the honor to inform you that thus far your informant was correct." "then you saw the treatment which i received, and heard the abusive language which doctor e. made use of on that occasion?" "i saw doctor e. examine you carefully and thoroughly, and when he could discover no cause for your being brought there, i heard him say--'colonel, you are not wounded at all. you had better let these boys carry you back to your regiment;' and when you so suddenly recovered your strength and sprang to your feet, making use of threats and profane language, he said: 'if you do not return to your regiment within fifteen minutes i will report you to general ----.'" suddenly relaxing his grasp of my arm, he assumed a fawning tone and manner, and taking a paper from his pocket he asked me to put my name to it, and he would reward me handsomely. i took the document from his hand and read it carefully. it was drawn up, as near as i can remember after the following manner: "this is to certify that colonel ---- has been infamously treated and maliciously slandered by doctor e., while said colonel was suffering from a wound received at williamsburg battle. two of the undersigned carried him bleeding from the field, and witnessed the cruel treatment and insulting language of doctor e." after reading the document, i said very calmly and decidedly, "colonel, i must decline signing this paper." by this time i had become indignant, and determined to cut short the interview; so touching my hat in mock respect, i left him to his own reflections. now it came my turn to visit washington--and the very next boat that left the landing bore me over the quiet waters of the james river. in due time i reached the capital, and spent three days in visiting the hospitals in washington, georgetown and alexandria, and various other places of interest. i was commissioned with numerous orders and had any amount of messages to deliver for officers and others; as many of our men were in the different hospitals in those cities, and i was expected to find them and deliver letters, packages, etc. the military display made in washington is certainly astonishing, especially to those who are accustomed to see major generals go round in slouched hats and fatigue coats, without even a star to designate their rank. but cocked and plumed hats, scarlet lined riding cloaks, swords and sashes, high boots and spanish spurs, immense epaulets, glittering stars, and gaily caparisoned horses, are to be seen by the hundred around willard's hotel and other places of resort. i noticed that some in particular wore painfully tight uniforms and very small caps, kept on by some new law of gravitation, as one portion rested on the bump of self esteem and the other on the bridge of the nose. "miss periwinkle" says of this class of military heroes: "they look like stuffed fowls, and ride as if the safety of the nation depended upon their speed alone." chaplain a. h. quint manfully defends the multiplicity of epaulets in washington, and very appropriately remarks: "willard's is the news depot. consider how easily a hundred, interested to read the bulletin there, could assemble. first, the general-in-chief is in washington, and has a staff necessarily. secondly, the quartermaster general, the adjutant general, the military governor, the paymaster-general, and the surgeon-general, have each a staff. thirdly, what military force there is in the city has officers. fourthly, there is a multitude of surgeons easily mistaken for army officers, as they wear uniforms. add to these the convalescent officers just able to move about, and you have hundreds necessarily in washington. and of course the display of epaulets is great." notwithstanding the "troublous times," there are generally gay times at the capital. levees and public receptions are frequent, except during the reign of terror, when some bold dash of rebel cavalry is made upon the devoted city, and then there is a genuine panic for a short time. in washington i think there is as much of the aristocratic spirit as you will find in the united states. people there are respected and graded according to their uniform; everything is regulated according to caste, and it is as david crocket says about dining: common people dine at twelve, common clerks in departments at one, head clerks at two, representatives at three, heads of departments at four, senators at five, ambassadors at six, and the president--well, he doesn't dine till the next day. in one of my rambles i visited the senate chamber. it was unoccupied, except by a few specimens of young america, who were playing leapfrog over the seats and desks. i leisurely surveyed every item of interest--sat in sumner's chair, and recalled the scene enacted there a few years previous, and in imagination thrashed brooks until he was a fit subject for a hospital--then giving him a farewell _coup de pied_, i betook me to the picture galleries. after admiring pocahontas sufficiently, and gazing at expiring heroes, who all "appeared to be quitting their earthly tabernacles in convulsions," ruffled shirts, and a tremendous shower of bomb-shell, until my head ached; i then turned for relief to the noble form of "the father of his country," which looked out from the canvas in all the princely majesty which characterized that _great_ and _good_ man. i stood wrapped in profound reverence, when a friend drew my attention to two paintings which i had not noticed before. they represented the surrender of lord cornwallis and general burgoyne. i felt a warm current of blood rush to my face, as i contemplated the humiliating scene--the spirit of johnny bull triumphed over my yankee predilections--and i left the building with feelings of humiliation and disgust. next in order, i visited the "soldier's free library," in fifth street, under the superintendence of john a. fowle, esq. he has accumulated over two thousand five hundred volumes of well selected historical, biographical and religious works. the soldiers in the different hospitals have the free use of the library, which is open daily. the room is nicely furnished, and the pictures hanging on the walls give it a cheerful, home-look, and the soldiers come there by the score. it is an excellent arrangement. thanks to the benevolent hearts and hands that have provided such a luxury for the soldier. an hour's walk through the contraband camp was amusing and instructive. here were specimens of all grades of the negro character, from the genuine pious, cheerful trusting christian, to the saucy, lazy, degraded creature, which generations of slavery has made almost on a level with the beasts of the field. but all of them kind-hearted, merry-tempered, and quick to feel and accept the least token of kindness. their cheerfulness is proverbial; old women, with wool white with age, bent over the wash-tub, grinned and gossiped in the most cheerful manner--girls romped with their dusky sweethearts, and mothers tossed their babies with that tender pride and mother-love which beautifies the blackest and homeliest face. all were happy, because they were free--and there seemed to be no room for anything like gloom or despondency in their hearts. men, women, and children sang, whistled and laughed together--and whether their songs were of heaven, or of hoe-cakes, they were equally inspiring. i found a young lady there, from the north, who had come to washington with the intention of nursing the sick soldiers, but her sympathies being divided between sick america and down-trodden africa, she decided to teach the contrabands instead. she seemed delighted with her employment, and the little black faces were beaming with joy as they gathered around her to receive instruction. one colored man stood listening to the questions which were being asked and answered, and looked as if he would like to give in his testimony. i turned to him, and asked: "how is it with you? do you think you can take care of yourself, now that you have no master to look after you?" "gosh a-mighty, guess i can! ben taking car' of self and massa too for dis fifteen year. guess i can take car' of dis nig all alone now." while at one of the hospitals in alexandria, the head steward told me the following touching incident, which occurred in that hospital. said he: "a young man had been placed under our care, who had a severe wound in the thigh. the ball passed completely through, and amputation was necessary. the limb was cut up close to the body, the arteries taken up, and he seemed to be doing well. subsequently, one of the small arteries sloughed off; an incision was made, and it was taken up. 'it is well it was not the main artery,' said the surgeon, as he performed the operation. 'he might have bled to death before it could have been taken up.' but the patient, (charley, as we always spoke of him), got on finely for a time, and was a favorite with us all. "i was passing through the ward one night, about midnight, when suddenly, as i was passing charley's bed, he spoke to me: 'h----, my leg is bleeding again.' i threw back the bedclothes, and the blood spirted in the air. the main artery had sloughed off. "fortunately, i knew just what to do; and in an instant i had pressed my thumb on the place, and stopped the bleeding. it was so close to the body that there was barely room for my thumb, but i succeeded in keeping it there, and arousing one of the convalescents, sent him for the surgeon, who came in on a run. "'i am so thankful,' said he, as he saw me, 'that you were up, and knew what to do, for otherwise he must have bled to death before i could have got here.' "but on examination of the case, he looked exceedingly serious, and sent for other surgeons. all came who were within reach, and a consultation was held over the poor fellow. one conclusion was reached by all. there was no place to work, save the spot where my thumb was placed; they could not work under my thumb, and if i removed it he would bleed to death before the artery could be taken up. there was no way to save his life. "poor charley! he was very calm when they told him, and he requested that his brother, who was in the same hospital, might be called up. he came and sat down by the bedside, and for three hours i stood, and by the pressure of my thumb kept up the life of charley, while the brothers had their last conversation on earth. it was a strange position for me to occupy, to feel that i held the life of a fellow mortal in my hands, and stranger yet to feel that an act of mine must cause that life to depart. loving the poor fellow as i did, it was a hard thought; but there was no alternative. the last words were spoken. charley had arranged all his business affairs, and sent tender messages to absent ones, who little dreamed how near their loved one stood to the grave. the tears filled my eyes more than once as i listened to those parting words. the last good-bye was spoken; then turning to me, he said: 'now, h----, i guess you had better remove your thumb.' 'oh, charley! how can i,' said i. 'but it must be done, you know,' he replied. 'i thank you very much for your kindness, and now, good-bye.' he turned away his head. i raised my thumb--once more the life-current gushed forth, and in three minutes he was dead." having heard and seen considerable on my little pleasure trip, and my leave of absence having nearly expired, i prepared to return once more to duty, and on my way to the boat i was fortunate enough to meet with some of the christian commission delegates, who were going to harrison's landing on the same boat, and had quite a supply of good things for our sick and wounded. may god bless the christian commission--it is doing a noble work, not only for the sick and wounded, but for our soldiers generally. general howard, of maine, that noble christian patriot of whom i have spoken in a previous chapter, was one of the speakers at the great meeting in philadelphia, january twenty-eighth, the second anniversary of the united states christian commission. he delivered a most touching and appropriate address on that occasion, and as it expresses my own sentiments, both with regard to the christian commission and the religion of christ generally, i will quote a portion of his speech, for the benefit of my readers who may not have read it elsewhere: "i may be allowed to speak freely to the friends who are here to-night. let me tell you one thing which i need not suppress if i could, and that is, that i feel in my heart a deep and abiding interest in the cause of my redeemer. i know that this is also the cause of the christian commission, and therefore i love it, and identify myself with it; and i doubt not that you love it, and will do everything to sustain it, for a like reason. and now i ask you, as i am to go back to the field to take up my cross anew, and to stand up night and day, evening and morning, for the cause of him i love, that your earnest, importunate prayers may follow me, and that god would bless the soldiers, that evil may be repressed among them, and that when they go into battle they may go without a fear, because they know in whom they have believed. "i assert that the highest type of courage is christian courage. when your spirit yearns up to god in prayer, 'oh, lord, be my protector, and in this peril let me run under the shadow of thy wing,' then you will fear no evil, though you walk through the valley and the shadow of death. my friends, these things are realities with me. by the blessing of god, by his spirit, he has enabled me to have a clear conviction that should he take me away i shall go to be with him. not because i am good, or holy, or righteous; but because i have a saviour; an all-sufficient saviour, who is able to save even the chief of sinners unto the utmost. therefore, i am able to say that i can go into the battle fearing no evil. and would to god, for their sakes, that every officer in the army and every soldier in the ranks could declare, in sincerity from the depths of his heart, that god had done such great things for him! these, to me, are settled, solemn convictions; and i speak them freely and frankly, as i am encouraged to do on this auspicious occasion. "it may seem to some that it is expressing one's feelings too publicly; but i think it well for me to bear such testimony in a work like yours, which contemplates this great and all-important result, the promotion of heart religion and the salvation of souls. and especially do i feel this in these times of excitement and terror--over the mere temporal accessories of war, the dreadful sacrifice of lives, the horrible sights of wounds, the caring for the sick and wounded, the lamentations for the dead--amid all this i fear that the still, small voice has not always been listened to; the silent and beautiful, though wonderful work of the spirit of god has not been seen, and its importance felt as it should be in our land. this the christian commission is striving to accomplish; it seeks to keep alive the spirit of christianity among our soldiers. their agency is the leaven in our armies. may they leaven the whole lump! "it is this only that will prepare us for our liberty. this bond, the bond of christian love, is the true bond after all that shall permanently unite us. there is no other. we speak of the claims of commerce and trade, of corn and cotton, that will unite the sections of our country; but these are temporary, fluctuating, perishing links. the religion of jesus christ is the lasting bond that connects not only maine with massachusetts and massachusetts with connecticut, but maine with texas and florida with wisconsin. "we boast of being an asylum for all nations. from england, ireland, france, germany, russia, and almost every country beyond the ocean, come men, women and children, who settle down in our midst. how shall we cause them to assimilate to us? how shall we ever make them good and useful citizens? will it be, think you, by merely giving them land on which to settle? will they become one with us because they grow in material wealth and prosperity? no, no! nothing but an education, a true education of heart and morals, such as the religion of jesus christ imparts, can ever truly and safely assimilate all these heterogeneous elements, and enable us to be truly one people. "the gospel has its victories to achieve for us as well as the sword. many of the rebels hated us worse before the war than they do now. they respect us much more than they once did, after seeing that we are not afraid to expose our bodies to be burned, if necessary, in a just cause--the cause of our country that we love; that we shrink from no sacrifice of money, time or life in order to maintain and perpetuate the beautiful government that our fathers bequeathed to us. but this is not all. they have felt, too, the power of the spirit of kindness and love, of which the religion of jesus has borne so many fruits in this struggle. "they have been astonished at the kindness which has been shown to them when they have fallen into our hands. it was this that demoralized them at vicksburg. in the west the rebels are not so violent as they were. when they come into our lines now they say they were forced to fight, that they are union men, and always were union men. and they are coming in every day. we have just heard that when general rosecrans took command of the cumberland army, eight thousand delivered themselves up to us. and do they hate us? no! we have melted them down by christian kindness and love. and, my friends, this is the way to disarm them. i believe, and say it with emphatic assurance, that if we all have the spirit of the master in our hearts we shall demoralize them wherever we find them! "i do not advocate any shrinking back or checking of the terrible steeds of war. no! fill up the ranks. make the next campaign more vigorous than any that has gone before it, so that it shall be, by the divine help, perfectly impossible for the rebels to keep the field. but let us wield this power along with the alleviating and saving influences of the religion of christ. let these, as diffused by the christian commission and in other ways, follow our armies everywhere, blessing friend and foe alike, and we shall then cause the enemy to come within our lines, not only by the eight thousand, but by the sixteen and sixty thousand. it is this that will ruin their cause, and finally break down their opposition." chapter xix. my constant companion--dispelling the blues--gentle nellie--faces in the hospital--asleep and awake--my horse again--at harrison's landing--impatient to move--dissatisfaction in the army--retreat from richmond--return to newport news--suspicious quarters--searching the house and finding rebel soldiers--thanks to the army--our arrival at acquia creek. while we remained at harrison's landing i spent much of my time in the hospitals. nellie was now my faithful friend and companion, my colleague when on duty, and my escort on all occasions in my rides and rambles. she was a splendid woman, and had the best faculty of dispelling the blues, dumps and dismals of any person i ever met. when we went to a hospital and found the nurses looking tired and anxious and the patients gloomy and sad, it never required more than half an hour for us to get up a different state of feeling, and dispel that "hark-from-the-tombs-a-doleful-sound" sort of spirit, and we invariably left the men in a more cheerful mood, evidently benefited by having a little respite from that depressing melancholy so prevalent among the sick, and so often indulged by nurses. in our own hospital we generally managed to so assort and arrange the patients as to have all of the same temperament and disease together, so that we knew just what to do and what to say to suit each department. we had our patients divided into three classes; one was our working department, another our pleasure department, and a third our pathetic department. one we visited with bandages, plasters and pins; another, with books and flowers; and the third, with beef tea, currant wine, and general consolation. sometimes nellie would sit and fan the patients for hours in the latter department, and sing some soothing pieces in her soft, sweet strains, until she would have them all asleep, or quiet as babies. i think the soldiers may truly say of the gentle nellie: her soothing tones with peace beguile the weary hours of pain, and make the lonely sufferer smile and joy to come again. still let me often hear thy voice, which gently whispers peace, and let my troubled heart rejoice, and strains of sadness cease; still speak to me of pleasant things-- of faith, and hope, and joy; then shall i rise on lightsome wings where pains no more annoy. i used to watch with much interest the countenances of those men as they lay fast asleep, and i often thought that i could read their characters better when asleep than when awake. some faces would grow stern and grim--they were evidently dreaming of war, and living over again those terrible battles in which they had so recently participated; some groaned over their wounds, and cursed the rebels vigorously; others grew sad, and would talk in the most pathetic tones, as if the pain borne so silently through the day revenged itself now by betraying what the man's pride concealed so well while awake. often the roughest grew young and pleasant when sleep smoothed away the hard lines from the brow, letting the real nature assert itself. many times i would be quite disappointed, for the faces which looked merry and pleasing when awake would suddenly grow dark and hideous, as if communing with some dark spirits of another world. one poor fellow, whose brain was injured more than his body, would wear himself out more in an hour when asleep than in a whole day when awake. his imagination would conjure up the wildest fancies; one moment he was cheering on his men, the next he was hurrying them back again; then counting the dead around him, while an incessant stream of shouts, whispered warnings and broken lamentations would escape from his lips. i became acquainted with a young man from rhode island in one of the hospitals, who was the most patient and cheerful person it has been my lot to meet under such circumstances. i find the following notice with regard to him: "i came out here," said he, "as rough and as bad as any of them. but i had left a praying mother at home. while in camp at poolesville i heard that she was dead. after that her image was never out of my thoughts. it seemed as if her form appeared to me as in a mirror, and always as wrestling for her wayward son. go where i might i felt as if i saw her in her place of prayer, kneeling and putting up her petitions to god, and not even the roar of battle could drown the soft tones of her voice." he was at the battle of fair oaks, and when it ceased sat down on a log, exhausted, by the wayside, and then, to use his own words, he "thought over the matter." heaps of dead men lay on every side of him. they had fallen, but he was still unharmed. the melting words of his mother's prayer came back to his mind with new power. he thought of his own condition, and of her happy home, so far removed from the strife and agony of war. a pious soldier of his company noticed that he was very thoughtful, and inquired the reason. to this friend he opened his mind freely, and told him how he felt. they sought occasion for private conference, communed together and prayed; strength was given him to make the "last resolve," and the soldier who had been so rough and had became a soldier in the army of jesus. the sainted mother had not prayed in vain. a battle had just been fought, a victory won, which was spreading joy throughout the nation; but here, too, was a triumph, a different triumph, such as cause the angels of god in heaven to rejoice. just as i am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me, and that thou bid'st me come to thee, o lamb of god! i come. one day, while employed in the hospital assisting nellie in some new arrangement for the amusement of the men, i received a letter from the captain to whom i had given my horse for the use of himself and three companions on the retreat from before richmond. he and his friends had reached the james river in safety, and had been so fortunate as to get on board of one of the transports which had been sent for the wounded, and were now comfortably installed in a hospital in washington. he also wrote that he had given my horse in charge of one of the quartermasters of general g.'s brigade, a piece of information which i was exceedingly glad to hear, for my colt was well nigh spoiled on the retreat, and if it had not been, was not fit to ride much, or indeed at all, to do it justice, for it proved to be not quite two years old. but upon finding the quartermaster i was politely informed that he had bought and paid for the horse, and of course i could not have it. i said nothing, but went to general m.'s headquarters, stated the case, and procured an order which brought the horse in double-quick time, and no thanks to the quartermaster. a month passed away, and everything remained quiet at harrison's landing and vicinity. the troops, having rested, began to grow tired of the routine of camp life, and were anxious for another brush with the enemy. the vigilant eye of mcclellan noted the impatience of the men, and he daily kept urging the necessity of reinforcements, and protested against leaving the peninsula, as retreat, in his opinion, would prove disastrous both to the army and the cause. our commander's patience was well nigh exhausted, as the following brief despatch of july th indicates: "i hope that it may soon be decided what is to be done by this army, and that the decision may be to reinforce it at once. we are losing much valuable time, and that at a moment when energy and decision are sadly needed." about this time an order came from washington for all the sick to be sent away, without giving any definite information with regard to the intended movements of the army. august fourteenth orders came for the army to evacuate harrison's landing. none knew whither they were going, but notwithstanding every pain was taken to conceal the destination from the troops, it was evident that we were retreating; for the ominous fact that we turned our backs toward richmond was very suggestive of a retreat. this had a demoralizing effect upon the troops, for they had confidently expected to advance upon richmond and avenge the blood of their fallen comrades, whose graves dotted so many hillsides on the peninsula, and whose remains would now be desecrated by rebel hands. the men were deeply moved; some wept like children, others swore like demons, and all partook in the general dissatisfaction of the movement. on the morning of the sixteenth the whole army was _en route_ for parts unknown. our destination proved to be newport news--a march of nearly seventy miles. it was well for us we did not know it then, or probably there would have been more swearing and less weeping among the soldiers. so far as i was personally concerned, i had a very pleasant time during that march. mr. and mrs. b., dr. e., nellie and myself, made up a small party, independent of military discipline, and rode fast or slow, just as it suited our fancy, called at the farm-houses and bought refreshments when we were hungry, and had a good time generally. nellie rode my confiscated colt, and pronounced it a perfect gem. dr. e. playfully said that he supposed she admired it because it was a rebel, and i suggested that he too must be a rebel, from the same premises. time passed away pleasantly until we drew near to yorktown, where sad memories interrupted the animated conversation. nellie was near her former home, with all its pleasant and sad associations. we visited the grave of lieutenant v. i could but rejoice that he had been taken away from the evil to come. he had been saved from all those terrible marches and horrible battles, and from this distressing and humiliating retreat. we hitched our horses and remained some time there, some of the party gathering the rich, ripe fruit, which hung in abundance from the peach trees around us. before leaving, we all bowed around the grave of our friend. chaplain b. offered up an ardent prayer that we might all be faithful, and follow the example of our departed loved one, as he had followed christ, and meet him where war and strife would be heard no more. i know thou art gone to a clime of light, to a world of joy and love, beyond the reach of the sunbeam's flight, in the shadowless above. and i will rejoice in thy smiles again, and hap'ly thy whisper hear; dispelling the gloom of sorrow and pain, when the twilight of death is near. we stopped at a farm-house one evening during our march, and engaged lodgings for the night. the house was very large, and afforded ample accommodations. it was the first one on the peninsula at which i had seen a strong, healthy-looking man, attending to his farm as if there was no such thing as war in the land. the lady of the house was an active, business-like sort of woman, and went to work to make us comfortable. but there was evidently something in or about that house which was not just right--and we had not been there long when i detected suspicious movements, and drew the attention of dr. e. to the fact. the man seemed very uneasy and restless, going from one room to another, shutting the doors very carefully behind him, carrying parcels up stairs in a half frightened way which increased our suspicion. i proposed to our little party that they should remain while i rode back to the army for a detachment of the provost-guard. my proposal was agreed to, and i started back in the direction of the main column. the family seemed alarmed, and asked a great many questions concerning my departure, to which i replied: "i am only going a short distance; i shall probably be back by the time supper is ready." i made all haste after i disappeared from view of the house, and in an hour i was on my way back again, having succeeded in finding the provost-marshal, and getting a corporal and six men to go with me. they entered the house boldly, and told the inmates that they had been informed that there were rebels concealed in the house, and they had come for the purpose of searching it; adding, that they would not disturb anything, if their suspicions were unfounded. the lady said that she had some sick persons in the house, and did not wish them disturbed, assuring them that her family were all union, and they would not harbor any rebels whatever. but all her excuses and pretensions did not deter the guard from accomplishing their object. so marching up stairs, they searched every room. in one room were found four rebel soldiers, or guerillas, all of whom pretended to be very ill. dr. e. was called to examine the patients, and pronounced them well as he was. in another room were two officers; they made no excuse at all, but said that they were the landlord's sons; had been in the rebel service, and were now home on furlough. they said they had been home ever since stuart's cavalry raid at white house, and were waiting for another such dash in order to get back again. the provost-guard marched them all back to headquarters, which was in the saddle, and our little party thought proper to take shelter that night under the wing of the main column, instead of at a farm-house where we were not sure but that our lives would pay for that piece of information given, before morning. the army marched on until it reached the transports. some embarked at yorktown, some at newport news, and others at fortress monroe. the troops were literally worn out and discouraged, caring but little where they went, or what they did. they were huddled on board of transports, and were landed at aquia creek. general mcclellan finding his army, as he had anticipated, much depressed and discouraged in consequence of the retreat from the peninsula, sent the following appeal to general halleck: "please say a kind word to my army, that i can repeat to them in general orders, in regard to their conduct at yorktown, williamsburg, west point, hanover court-house, and on the chickahominy, as well as in regard to the seven days, and the recent retreat. no one has ever said anything to cheer them but myself. say nothing about me; merely give my men and officers credit for what they have done. they deserve it." the army of the potomac had performed an enormous amount of labor in making entrenchments, constructing roads, bridges, etc., and did it with the most gratifying cheerfulness and devotion to the interests of the service. during the entire campaign they had fought ten severely contested battles, and had beaten the enemy on every occasion, showing the most determined bravery and invincible qualities it was possible for an army to exhibit. they had submitted to exposure, sickness and death, without a murmur; and they deserved the thanks of the government and the people for their services. on arriving at aquia creek, we found ourselves the victims of another rainstorm. five of us went on board of a little steam-tug, and thus escaped a severe drenching during the night, for we had not yet seen our tents. when morning came we were treated to breakfast, and the captain was very kind indeed. we were just congratulating ourselves on our good fortune, when we discovered that all our little valuables, relics which we had brought from the peninsula, toilet arrangements, and even our bibles, had been stolen while we were asleep. nellie and i were indulging in some uncharitable remarks concerning those persons upon whose hospitality we had fared sumptuously and slept comfortably, and who had so generously refused to take any remuneration in the shape of greenbacks, but who had helped themselves to things more precious to us than money, when good chaplain b. entered just in time to catch the most unchristian-like sentence we had uttered, and forthwith gave us a lecture upon the heinous sin of ingratitude. when he had concluded, instead of saying amen, i said: "from such hospitality in future, good lord deliver us." we did not remain long at aquia creek, but were ordered to embark immediately for alexandria, virginia. when we arrived there, pope's army was in danger of annihilation; and, consequently, as fast as the army of the potomac arrived, it was ordered to pope's assistance; one portion in one direction, and another in another direction, until it was cut up into sections, and general mcclellan was left at washington, without an army or anything to command except his staff. chapter xx. pope's army--a general's request--again a contraband--entering the rebel lines as a spy--my escape to the federal lines--in peril--kearney killed--crawling through the woods--burial of a picket--looking for a general--mr. negative--mcclellan and pope--the battle of antietam--a touching death-scene--an interesting patient--burial of a female soldier. immediately after arriving at alexandria, i started for the battle-field, where a portion of mcclellan's army had gone to reinforce pope. everything seemed to be in a confused state. there was no definite information with regard to the force of the enemy in that direction, and it seemed impossible to obtain any from reliable sources. mcclellan's troops were ordered to the front, under new commanders, just as they came off the transports in which they arrived from the peninsula, without any rest, or a proper supply of clothing, shoes, or blankets; all of which they much needed, after such a march as they had just accomplished. while the battle raged, and the roar of cannon was reverberating over the national capital, mcclellan sent the following request to general halleck: "i cannot express to you the pain and mortification i have experienced to-day, in listening to the distant firing of my men. as i can be of no further use here, i respectfully ask that, if there is a probability of the conflict being renewed to-morrow, i may be permitted to go to the scene of battle with my staff, merely to be with my own men, if nothing more. they will fight none the worse for my being with them. if it is not deemed best to intrust me with the command even of my own army, i simply ask to be permitted to share their fate on the field of battle." the troops under pope were several days in the vicinity of the shenandoah valley, with no rations but those they found in the fields, such as fruit, green corn, and vegetables. they certainly were in a poor condition to fight, and there was evidently a lack of that cheerful, enthusiastic spirit, which had characterized them on the peninsula. i was ordered by general h. to pass the rebel lines, and return as soon as possible. i took the train at warrenton junction, went to washington, procured a disguise, that of a female contraband, and returned the same night. i passed through the enemy's lines in company with nine contrabands, men, women, and children, who preferred to live in bondage with their friends, rather than to be free without them. i had no difficulty whatever in getting along, for i, with several others, was ordered to headquarters to cook rations enough, the rebels said, to last them until they reached washington. [illustration: at rebel headquarters.--page .] the officers generally talked in low tones, but would sometimes become excited, forget that there were darkies around, and would speak their minds freely. when i had been there a few hours, i had obtained the very information which i had been sent for. i had heard the plan of the morrow discussed, the number of troops at several important points, and the number expected to arrive during the night; and this, too, from the lips of the commanding general and his staff. the rebel lines were guarded so strongly and so faithfully, that i did not dare to return that night, but waited anxiously for the dawn of the morrow. early on the following morning, while assisting the cook to carry in breakfast, i removed a coat from a camp-stool which stood in my way, and a number of papers fell from its pockets, which i instantly transferred to my own. i then hurried my arrangements in the tent, lest the documents should be missed before i could make my escape. breakfast was announced, and i suddenly disappeared. going toward the picket line nearest the federals, and seeing an old house in the distance, i went and hid myself in the cellar. soon, firing commenced in different directions, and grew hotter and hotter, until the shot and shell began to shake the old house in which i had taken refuge, and by and by it came tumbling down around me. a part of the floor was broken down, but still i remained unharmed, and did not attempt to leave the ruins. i remembered that good old elijah remained in the cave during the tempest, the earthquake and the fire, and afterward came the still small voice. so i waited patiently for the still small voice, and felt secure; knowing that the lord was a sure refuge, and could protect me there as well as in a drawing-room in the quiet city. it was not long before deliverance came, and the rebels were obliged to fall back and take a new position. when the firing ceased, i was safely within the federal lines. i went immediately to headquarters, and reported myself as having just returned from rebeldom; gave a brief relation of my experience, and delivered the documents which i had brought from rebel headquarters. these proved to be orders intended for the different corps commanders, with instructions how and when to move, so as to act in concert with the entire plan of the morrow, and insure the capture of washington. during those battles and skirmishes of pope's memorable campaign, i visited the rebel generals three times at their own camp-fires, within a period of ten days, and came away with valuable information, unsuspected and unmolested. while the second battle of bull run was in progress, i was a part of the time with the confederates, and then back again to the federals, having made my escape while the battle raged most fiercely by concealing myself in a ravine, and watching until the rebels charged upon a battery. while they were engaged in a hand-to-hand fight, i escaped unobserved by friend or foe. the last of these visits was made the night before the battle of chentilla, in which the brave kearney was killed. i was within a few rods of him when he fell, and was in the act of returning to the union camp under cover of the extreme darkness of that never-to-be-forgotten night. i saw him ride up to the line, but supposed him to be a rebel officer until the pickets fired at him, and even then i thought they had fired at me, until i saw him fall from his horse, and heard their exclamations of joy when they discovered who he was; for the one-armed general was known throughout both armies for his bravery and brilliant career, and the name of kearney had become a word of terror to the rebels. when i learned who was their victim, i regretted that it had not been me instead of him, whom they had discovered and shot. i would willingly have died to save such a general to the union army. but he was taken, while i, poor insignificant creature, was left; but left with a heart and soul as fully devoted to the union cause as kearney's was; only lacking the ability to accomplish the same results. i lost no time in making good my escape, while the attention of the pickets were drawn in another direction. when i came to our lines, i found it almost as difficult to get through as i had found it on the other side. the night was so dark i could not make any sign by which the pickets could recognize me, and i was in the depths of the forest, where the rustling of the leaves and the crackling of dry branches under my feet betrayed my foot-steps as i went along. however, after crawling up pretty close to the line, and getting behind a tree to screen me from the bullets, if they should fire, i managed to make myself understood. the picket said: "all right," and i passed through in safety. coming within the lines, i saw a group of men kneeling on the ground digging a grave with their bayonets, with the least possible noise; for the picket lines were within half musket shot of each other. one of their comrades had been killed, and they were thus preparing his last resting-place. they buried him darkly at dead of night, the turf with their bayonets turning. but there were no "struggling moonbeams," or glimmering stars, to shed a ray of light upon the midnight gloom of that solitary funeral--naught save the vivid flashes of lurid flame which the lightning cast upon the sad scene, lighting up for a moment the surrounding forest, and then dying away, leaving the darkness more intolerable. we may well say of such as die at their post: sweet be the death of those who for their country die; sleep on her bosom for repose, and triumph where they lie. after reaching headquarters and donning another costume, i was dispatched to washington with official documents to mcclellan, who was now in command of the defenses of the capital, and had control of all the troops who came streaming in from the disastrous battle-field. i arrived in the city just as the morning light was breaking, drenched from head to foot, and looking as if mud was my native element. making my way to where i supposed headquarters to be, i saw an important looking individual near by, whom i addressed, and inquired if he could tell me where general mcclellan was to be found? "no, i can not." could he tell me when he was expected at headquarters? "no." was there any person there of whom i could inquire? "not a person." did he know of any place where the necessary information could be obtained? "not a place." could he make any suggestion, or throw the least ray of light upon the subject, which might lead to the whereabouts of the general? "not the slightest." turning away in disgust, i said to the man, "well, good-by, mr. negative. i hope the effort which you have made to assist me will not injure you mentally or physically;" and so saying i rode away, feeling that if i was as big as he imagined himself, and as strong as he was indifferent, i would give him a vigorous shaking before leaving him. i went next to general h.'s headquarters. no one there could tell me anything more definite than that the general had been gone all night, carrying out general halleck's orders and making the best possible disposition of the troops as fast as they came in, for the whole army was now in full retreat. after two hours search i found him, delivered the despatches, and returned to washington, where i remained until the next day, being completely tired out, not having had a night's sleep for five nights previous. on the first of september, general mcclellan had an interview with the president, who requested him to use all his influence with the army of the potomac to insure its hearty co-operation with general pope's army. in compliance with the president's request, mcclellan sent the following despatch to general porter: "i ask of you, for my sake, that of the country, and the old army of the potomac, that you and all my friends will lend the fullest and most cordial co-operation to general pope in all the operations now going on. the destinies of our country, the honor of our arms, are at stake, and all depends upon the cheerful co-operation of all in the field. this week is the crisis of our fate. say the same thing to my friends in the army of the potomac, and that the last request i have to make of them is, that, for their country's sake, they will extend to general pope the same support they ever have to me." immediately after this followed the brilliant and triumphant victories at south mountain and antietam, which more than counterbalanced the disastrous campaign of pope, and which sent a thrill of joy throughout the north. but in this, as in most other instances of earthly bliss, the joy was not unmixed with sorrow--sorrow for the noble dead and wounded upon those bloody fields. at the memorable battle of antietam there were nearly two hundred thousand men and five hundred pieces of artillery engaged during a period of fourteen hours without cessation; and at its termination two thousand seven hundred of the enemy's dead lay upon the field. the report of the federal general in command says: "thirteen guns, thirty-nine colors, upwards of fifteen thousand stand of small arms, and more than six thousand prisoners, were the trophies which attest the success of our army in the battles of south mountain, crampton's gap, and antietam. not a single gun or color was lost by our army during these battles." at the close of the battle i stood by the side of a dying officer of one of the massachusetts regiments, who had passed through the thickest of the fight unhurt, but just at the close of the battle he was struck by a random shot which wounded him mortally. as he lay there, conscious of approaching death, the musicians of the regiment happened to pass by. he requested that they might be asked to play the "star-spangled banner." they cheerfully complied with the dying man's request, and while they played the grand old tune his countenance beamed with joy. he inquired the result of the battle, and when told that it was a victory he exclaimed--"oh! it is glorious to die for one's country at such a time as this!" then turning to the chaplain he spoke in the most affecting manner; he said his trust was in the redeemer; then he sent loving messages to his mother and friends at home. the chaplain read some comforting passages of scripture and prayed with him, and soon after the happy spirit passed away. some one very appropriately says: "when such sacrifices are laid upon the altar of our country, we have surely new incentives to uphold the cause for which they are made, and, with god's help, not to allow the treason which has slain so many victims, to accomplish its purpose. and, through this bloody baptism, shall not our nation be purified at length, and fitted to act a nobler part in the world's history?" god grant it. in passing among the wounded after they had been carried from the field, my attention was attracted by the pale, sweet face of a youthful soldier who was severely wounded in the neck. the wound still bled profusely, and the boy was growing faint from loss of blood. i stooped down and asked him if there was anything he would like to have done for him. the soldier turned a pair of beautiful, clear, intelligent eyes upon me for a moment in an earnest gaze, and then, as if satisfied with the scrutiny, said faintly: "yes, yes; there is something to be done, and that quickly, for i am dying." [illustration: an interesting patient.--page .] something in the tone and voice made me look more closely at the face of the speaker, and that look satisfied me that my suspicion was well founded. i went to one of the surgeons in attendance, and requested him to come and see my patient. he did so, and after a moment's examination of the wound told me that nothing could be done whatever to save him. he then left me, and i administered a little brandy and water to strengthen the wounded boy, for he evidently wished to tell me something that was on his mind before he died. the little trembling hand beckoned me closer, and i knelt down beside him and bent my head until it touched the golden locks on the pale brow before me; i listened with breathless attention to catch every sound which fell from those dying lips, the substance of which was as follows: "i can trust you, and will tell you a secret. i am not what i seem, but am a female. i enlisted from the purest motives, and have remained undiscovered and unsuspected. i have neither father, mother nor sister. my only brother was killed to-day. i closed his eyes about an hour before i was wounded. i shall soon be with him. i am a christian, and have maintained the christian character ever since i entered the army. i have performed the duties of a soldier faithfully, and am willing to die for the cause of truth and freedom. my trust is in god, and i die in peace. i wish you to bury me with your own hands, that none may know after my death that i am other than my appearance indicates." then looking at me again in that earnest, scrutinizing manner, she said: "i know i can trust you--you will do as i have requested?" i assured her that she might place implicit confidence in me, and that i would do as she had desired me. then i sought out a chaplain, who came and prayed with her. she was calm and peaceful. i remained with her until she died, which was about an hour. then making a grave for her under the shadow of a mulberry tree near the battle-field, apart from all others, with the assistance of two of the boys who were detailed to bury the dead, i carried her remains to that lonely spot and gave her a soldier's burial, without coffin or shroud, only a blanket for a winding-sheet. there she sleeps in that beautiful forest where the soft southern breezes sigh mournfully through the foliage, and the little birds sing sweetly above her grave. her race is run. in southern clime she rests among the brave; where perfumed blossoms gently fall, like tears, around her grave. no loving friends are near to weep or plant bright flowers there; but birdlings chant a requiem sweet, and strangers breathe a prayer. she sleeps in peace; yes, sweetly sleeps, her sorrows all are o'er; with her the storms of life are past: she's found the heavenly shore. chapter xxi. after antietam--surgeons on the field--the hospitals--lieutenant-colonel dwight mortally wounded--a brutal surgeon--a wounded captain--agony from thirst--christian soldiers--praying and fighting--fops on the field--a rebel programme--pennsylvania to be stripped--camp life--daily routine--burial services. after the battle of antietam, one of the chaplains who was on the field paid a fitting tribute to the colonel commanding the regiment to which he belonged, and vividly described many scenes that came under my own observation on that day, he says: "how faithfully many a surgeon labored! our own assistant surgeon was a hero; regardless of bullets in the hottest fire, he kept coolly on in his work, while near by dr. kendall, of the twelfth massachusetts, was killed. the nearest hospital, that of our own corps, was necessarily in range of the enemy's shell, which every now and then fell around and beyond. near by were five other hospitals, all for one wing. here were generals and privates brought together. general mansfield i saw dying, and a few feet off, an unknown private; general hartsuff badly wounded, and by his side a throng of others now on the same level. there is no distinction as to what body or soul needs then. "our own regiment helped to fill these hospitals. our gallant dead are remembered with all the other dead of massachusetts. but one we lost, hard to replace: our brilliant, brave, generous, kind-hearted lieut.-colonel wilder dwight, shot mortally, but living two days. of wonderful promise at home, cheerful, resigned, strong in faith and trust, ready to die; his only wish being to see his father and mother. while lying in the garden, moved only on a stretcher, he sent our own surgeon to relieve the wounded who were lying all around, the surgeons being occupied in amputating limbs of men in the hospitals; and again and again sent water provided for himself to the poor fellows calling for it. yet colonel dwight was not free from brutal insolence. while waiting there in the night for an ambulance in which to place him, only for shelter, suddenly a harsh voice insisted on turning him out with all our men. "i found a pompous little surgeon angry and furious. i informed him why the men were there, assured him of their good behavior, and requested permission for them to remain as we were momentarily expecting the ambulance. it was all in vain. colonel dwight himself was treated most harshly, although of higher rank than the brute himself; and notwithstanding i told the surgeon he was mortally wounded, he ordered the guard to turn them out at the point of the bayonet, and to prevent their return even to remove colonel dwight; refusing to tell his rank and even his name, until i obtained it of another party. the men were driven away while actually giving water to the wounded who had been calling in vain for help. i assured him i would take care that his conduct was made known, knowing from several scenes i had witnessed that day that he was, from brutality, pomposity and harshness, utterly unfit to be in charge of wounded men, and from gross disrespect to an officer higher in rank, unfit to be in the army. this fellow was a medical director in general reynolds' corps, pennsylvania reserves," and the writer adds, "too good a corps to have such a fellow among them." the ordinary scene which presents itself after the strife of arms has ceased, is familiar to every one. heaps of slain, where friend and foe lie side by side, mangled bodies, shrieks and groans of the wounded and dying, are things which we always associate with the victories and defeats of war. but we seldom expect or hear of songs of praise and shouts of triumph from dying lips on the dreadful battle-field. the following account was received from the lips of a brave and pious captain in one of the western regiments, as some friends were conveying him to a hospital from the battle-field: "the man had been shot through both thighs with a rifle bullet; it was a wound from which he could not recover. while lying on the field he suffered intense agony from thirst. he supported his head upon his hand, and the rain from heaven was falling around him. in a short time a little pool of water collected near his elbow, and he thought if he could reach that spot he might allay his raging thirst. he tried to get into a position which would enable him to obtain a mouthful of the muddy water, but in vain; and he must suffer the torture of seeing the means of relief within sight, while all his efforts were unavailing. "'never,' said he, 'did i feel so much the loss of any earthly blessing. by and by the shades of night fell around us, and the stars shone out clear and beautiful above the dark field, where so many others lay wounded, writhing in pain or faint from loss of blood. thus situated, i began to think of the great god who had given his son to die a death of agony for me, and that he was in the heavens to which my eyes were turned; that he was there above that scene of suffering and above those glorious stars; and i felt that i was hastening home to meet him, and praise him there. i felt that i ought to praise him then, even wounded as i was, on the battle-field. i could not help singing that beautiful hymn-- "'when i can read my title clear to mansions in the skies, i'll bid farewell to every fear, and wipe my weeping eyes.' "'and though i was not aware of it till then,'" he continued, "'it proved there was a christian brother in the thicket near me. i could not see him, but was near enough to hear him. he took up the strain from me, and beyond him another, and another, caught the words, and made them resound far and wide over the terrible battle-field. there was a peculiar echo in the place, and that added to the effect, as we made the night vocal with our hymns of praise to god.'" the presence of such men in the army, animated by faith in god, and conscious of serving him in serving their country, adds materially to its elements of strength and success. the religious element has always been acknowledged as a great power in military success. the more intelligent that principle is, the more efficient it must be in securing this result. there is every reason, natural as well as rational, why those who hold their lives in their hand should acknowledge the god of battle, and pray for themselves and their country in the midst of danger. the simplest expression of the relations of praying and fighting was, perhaps, the blunt order of the puritan chief, "put your trust in god, and keep your powder dry." cromwell and his praying puritans were dangerous men to meet in battle. "the sword of the lord and of gideon was exceeding sharp, tempered as it was by hourly prayers." who can but admire the sublime spectacle which gustavus adolphus and his vast army presented on the eve of the battle of lutzen, in which the king fell, praying on bended knees, and then chanting: be of good cheer; your cause belongs to him who can avenge your wrongs; leave it to him our lord. the king fell, but the battle was gloriously won. "and so," says a writer upon this subject, "unless we are untrue to our better nature, it must ever be. before going into battle, the foolish, wicked oath is silent. with the bracing of the nerves for the shock of battle, there goes up a silent prayer for strength, and valor and deliverance. the wounded pray to be saved from death; the dying recall the words of old petitions learned in childhood, and in those broken accents commit their souls to god." the only amusing incident after a battle is, the crowd of spectators from washington and other places. if they are in carriages, their vehicles are sure to get smashed, and then the trouble arises, what are they to do with their baggage? carry it, of course, or leave it behind. even the wounded soldiers cannot help laughing at their sorry plight, gesticulations, and absurd questions. among all this class of individuals, there are none to be compared with government clerks for importance and absurdity. on one of these occasions i remember of a number of those pompous creatures being distressed beyond measure, because they could not return to washington on a train which was crowded beyond description with the wounded. after the cars moved off there they stood gazing after it in the most disconsolate manner. said one, "i came out here by invitation of the secretary of war, and now i must return on foot, or remain here." one of the soldiers contemptuously surveyed him from head to foot, as he stood there with kid gloves, white bosom, standing collar, etc., in all the glory and finery of a brainless fop, starched up for display. "well," said the soldier, "we don't know any such individual as the secretary of war out here, but i guess we can find you something to do; perhaps you would take a fancy to one of these muskets," laying his hand on a pile beside him. the clerk turned away in disgust, and disdaining to reply to the soldier, he inquired, "but where shall i sleep to-night?" the soldier replied, "just where you please, chummy; there is lots of room all around here," pointing to a spot of ground which was not occupied by the wounded. a chaplain stepped up to him, and said: "if you wish to sleep, there is some hay you can have;" and went on to give him a brief lecture upon the impropriety of a young man, in perfect health, just fresh from the city, talking about comfortable lodgings, and a place to sleep, when so many wounded and dying lay all around him. he was horrified, and disappeared immediately. before the rebels attempted to cross into maryland in force, the richmond papers were full of editorials, of which the following is a specimen: "let not a blade of grass, or a stalk of corn, or a barrel of flour, or a bushel of meal, or a sack of salt, or a horse, or a cow, or a hog, or a sheep, be left wherever the confederate troops move along. let vengeance be taken for all that has been done, until retribution itself shall stand aghast. this is the country of the would-be-gentleman, mcclellan. he has caused a loss to us, in virginia, of at least thirty thousand negroes, the most valuable property that a virginian can own. they have no negroes in pennsylvania. retaliation, therefore, must fall upon something else. a dutch farmer has no negroes, but he has horses that can be seized, grain that can be confiscated, cattle that can be killed, and houses that can be burned." but when they really attempted to accomplish these feats, and found with whom they had to contend, they were very glad to re-cross the potomac, without confiscating property or burning houses, and to escape, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. after the battle of antietam, the army was not in a condition to follow up the rebels; but as soon as the capital was safe, and the rebels were driven from maryland and pennsylvania, vigorous efforts were made to recruit, clothe, and reorganize the army. harper's ferry was again occupied, every weak point strengthened, and all the fords were strongly guarded. while the army thus remained inactive for a few weeks, camp duties and discipline were again strictly enforced and attended to. i would not have my readers think that camp-life in the army is so very unpleasant, after all. i do not think so, for i have spent some of the pleasantest, happiest hours of my life in camp, and i think thousands can give the same testimony. one of our good chaplains from the north says that even the city of new york itself can bear no favorable comparison to military life in the army of the potomac. "after all," he says: "new york is a humbug compared with the army. it is tattoo, as i write; what music it is, compared with the nuisance noises of those city streets! our candles are not brilliant; but the sight of the lights of the camps all around, is more pleasant than the glare of the city gas. the air is the pure air of heaven, not the choky stuff of the metropolis. the men are doing something noble, not dawdling away these glorious days in selling tape and ribbons. the soldier lives to some purpose, and if he dies it is a hero's death. the silks of that wealthy mart may be coveted by some; but what are the whole to our bullet-riddled old flag, which passed from the stiffening hands of one color-bearer to another, in the days of many a battle?" to give my reader a more definite idea of the routine of camp life, i will enter into a detail of it more fully. at sunrise _reveille_ beats, drum echoing to drum until the entire encampment is astir, and busy as a bee-hive. roll-call immediately follows, which brings every man to his place in the ranks, to answer to his name. an hour later breakfast call is sounded by fife and drum, and the company cooks, who are detailed for that purpose, deal out the rations to the men as they sit or stand around the cook's quarters. at half-past seven o'clock sick call announces to surgeons and patients that they are expected to appear at the dispensing tent--if able to go there. then comes a general examination of tongues and pulses, and a liberal distribution of _quinine_ and blue pills, and sometimes a little _eau de vie_, to wash down the bitter drugs. guard mounting at eight, which is an imposing affair in itself. the band marches to the usual place of dress parade and strikes up some appropriate piece, which is the signal for the regimental details to march to the place of inspection. the line is formed, arms inspected, and general appearance noted. then the men are marched in review, and divided into three reliefs--one of which is marched to the post of each sentinel, where, after various important conferences, the old sentinel is relieved and the new one takes his place, and so on around the whole camp. the old guard is then marched to their quarters and formally dismissed, having been on duty two hours out of every six during the last twenty-four hours. at nine o'clock the music sounds for company drill, which drill lasts an hour and a half. the bugle announces dinner at one o'clock. at three in the afternoon battalion drill commences, which occupies an hour. at half-past four is heard the first call for evening parade, and at five o'clock comes off the great display of the day--dress parade. supper at six, tattoo at half past eight, and roll-call again at nine; immediately after which comes "taps" on the drum, which means "lights out." but between all these calls drills and parades are more interesting services and duties. away in one corner of the camp is our canvas or log meeting-house, and besides our regular preaching, we have conference and prayer meetings, debating clubs, military lectures, and numerous musical entertainments. then, too, comes visiting the sick in different hospitals, distribution of reading matter and delicacies, and the blessed privilege of religious conversation. and often the solemn services in connection with burying the dead. i will here give a brief description of this service: the burial of a soldier in camp is a most solemn scene. a suitable escort is formed in two ranks opposite the tent of the deceased, with shouldered arms and bayonets unfixed. on the appearance of the coffin the soldiers present arms. the procession then forms--on each side of the coffin are the pall-bearers without muskets--and the escort moves forward with arms reversed, viz.: musket under the left arm, barrel downward, and steadied behind the back with the right hand. the band marches in front, with slow and measured tread and muffled drum they move, pouring out their melancholy wailings for the dead--a sadder dirge than which never fell upon mortal ear. on reaching the place of interment the coffin is lowered into the grave, the soldiers leaning upon their muskets, muzzle downward, the hands clasped upon the butt of their guns, with heads uncovered and reverently bowed upon their hands. the chaplain, who has walked in the rear of the procession, conducts the burial service, at the end of which three volleys are fired over the grave, the trench is filled up, and the soldiers return to duty. warrior, rest! thy toils are ended: life's last fearful strife is o'er; clarion-calls, with death-notes blended, shall disturb thine ear no more! peaceful is thy dreamless slumber; peaceful, but how cold and stern! thou hast joined that silent number in the land whence none return! warrior, rest! thy banner o'er thee hangs in many a drooping fold; many a manly cheek before thee stain'd with tear-drops we behold. thine was not a hand to falter when thy sword should leave its sheath: thine was not a cheek to alter, though thy duty led to death! warrior, rest! a dirge is knelling solemnly from shore to shore: 'tis a nation's tribute, telling that a patriot is no more! and thy young bride weeps in sorrow that no more she hears thy tread; that the night which knows no morrow darkly veils thy laurel'd head! warrior, rest! we smooth thy pillow, for thy last, long earthly sleep; and beneath yon verdant willow storms unheard will o'er thee sweep! there, 'tis done! thy couch awaits thee! softly down thy head we lay; here repose, till god translates thee from the dust to endless day! chapter xxii. a military execution--the preparations--the death--harper's ferry--old john brown--contrast--advance into virginia--condition of the army--a dreary ride--a green guard--seeking shelter--a guerrilla fight--my horse killed--playing possum--my pockets picked--a narrow escape--return to camp--an interesting meeting. about this time one of those horrible and soul-revolting sights, a "military execution," took place; in other words, a soldier was shot in cold blood by his comrades. i did not witness the execution, although it occurred within a short distance of camp, and i give the particulars relating to it from the record of the chaplain who attended the unhappy man to the place of execution: "a painful episode, the first of the kind i have witnessed, took place last friday. it was a military execution. the person thus punished belonged to the third maryland, which is in our division. on tuesday last his sentence was formally read to him. he was to be shot to death with musketry on the next friday, between the hours of noon and four in the afternoon. he had learned the decision on the sunday before. the day of his execution was wet and gloomy. that morning, in the midst of the provost guard, he was sitting on a bag of grain, leaning against a tree, while a sentry with fixed bayonet stood behind, never turning away from him, save as another took his place. useless seemed the watch, for arms and feet had been secured, though not painfully, since the sentence was read. the captain of the guard had humanely done all he could, and it was partly by his request that i was there. a chaplain could minister where others would not be allowed. the rain fell silently on him; the hours of his life were numbered, even the minutes. he was to meet death, not in the shock and excitement of battle, not as a martyr for his country, not in disease, but in full health, and as a criminal. i have seen many a man die, and have tried to perform the sacred duties of my station. i never had so painful a task as this, because of these circumstances. willingly, gladly, he conversed, heard and answered. while such a work is painful, yet it has its bright side, because of the 'exceeding great and precious promises' it is one's privilege to tell. "when the time came for removal to the place of execution, he entered an ambulance, the chaplain accompanying him. next, in another ambulance, was the coffin; before, behind, and on either side a guard. half a mile of this sad journey brought him within a short distance of the spot. then leaving the ambulance, he walked to the place selected. the rain had ceased, the sun was shining on the dark lines of the whole division drawn up in three sides of a hollow square. with guard in front and rear, he passed with steady step to the open side of the square, accompanied by the chaplain. there was a grave dug, and in front of it was his coffin. he sat upon the coffin; his feet were reconfined, to allow of which he lifted them voluntarily, and then his eyes were bandaged. in front of him the firing party, of two from each regiment, were then drawn up, half held in reserve, during which there was still a little time for words with his chaplain. "the general (not mcclellan) stood by, and the provost marshal read the sentence and shook hands with the condemned. then a prayer was offered, amid uncovered heads and solemn faces. a last hand-shake with the chaplain, which he had twice requested; a few words from him to the chaplain; a lingering pressure by the hand of the condemned, his lips moving with a prayer-sentence which he had been taught, and on which his thoughts had dwelt before; and he was left alone. the word of command was immediately given. one volley, and he fell over instantly, unconscious. a record of the wounds were made by the surgeons who immediately examined him. the troops filed by his grave, and returned by the way they came. he left a mother and sister, and was twenty years of age." soon after i spent a night at harper's ferry. john brown is still remembered there, and the soldiers go round singing "his soul goes marching on." that medley of a song does not seem so senseless after all, for the spirit of john brown does seem to march along wonderfully fast, and our troops are becoming imbued with it to a greater extent than is generally supposed. i also visited the court-house, where public service was held by a massachusetts chaplain in the very room where john brown was tried, convicted and sentenced. there was the spot where he had lain upon his litter. there in front of the judge's platform were the juror's seats. the chair which the judge had occupied was now tenanted by an abolition preacher. oh! if old john brown had only lived to see that day! but he is gone, and his soul goes marching on. on the th of october, the pontoon bridges being completed at harper's ferry and at berlin, the army once more advanced into virginia. the ninth corps and pleasanton's cavalry occupied lovettsville, a pretty little village reminding one of new england. the army was now in admirable condition and fine spirits, and enjoyed this march exceedingly, scarcely a man dropping out of the ranks for any cause whatever, but entering into the spirit of the campaign with an energy which surpassed all their former enthusiasm. as the army marched rapidly over the country from village to village, the advance guard driving the enemy's pickets from one covert to another, many thrilling adventures occurred, several of which came under my own observation, and as i am expected particularly to relate those in which i was personally concerned, i will here relate one which came very near being my last on this side the "river." on the morning of the third day after we left lovettsville i was sent back to headquarters, which was said to be some twelve miles in the rear. i was then with the advance guard, and when they started forward at daylight i went to the rear. in order to go more quickly i left all my traps in an ambulance--blankets, overcoat and grain, excepting enough to feed once. then starting at a brisk canter i soon lost sight of the advancing column. i rode on mile after mile, and passed train after train, but could find no one that could tell me where mcclellan's headquarters were. on i went in this way until noon, and then found that i was six miles from headquarters. after riding a distance which seemed to me all of ten miles, i at length found the place sought for. i fed my horse, attended to the business which i had been sent to transact, and then tried to find something in the way of rations for myself, but failed utterly. not a mouthful could i procure either at the sutler's headquarters, cook-house, or in any other place. i went to two houses and they told me they had not a mouthful in the house cooked or uncooked--but of course i believed as much of that story as i pleased. the day had been very cold; there had been several smart showers during my ride, and now it began to snow--a sort of sleet which froze as fast as it fell. this was an october day in old virginia. oh! what an afternoon i spent in the saddle on my return; hungry, wet, and shivering with cold. i traveled as fast as my horse was able to go until ten o'clock at night, with the hope of overtaking the troops i had left in the morning, but all in vain, for the whole line of march and programme for the day had been changed, in consequence of coming in contact with the enemy and having a sharp skirmish, which resulted in our troops being nearly outflanked and cut off from the main body of the army. of course i had no opportunity of knowing this that night, so on i went in another direction from that in which the advance guard had gone. by and by i came to some fresh troops just from the north, who had lately enlisted and been sent down to washington, and now were on their way to join mcclellan's army. they had been put on guard duty for the first time, and that too without any definite orders, their officers having concluded to remain there until the main column came up, and they scarcely knew where they were or what orders to give their men. as i rode up, one of the boys--for if boy he was, not more than sixteen summers had graced his youthful brow--stepped out in the middle of the road with his musket at a "trail arms," and there he stood till i came up close to him, and then he did not even say "halt," but quietly told me that i could not go any farther in that direction. why not? well, he didn't exactly know, but he was put there on guard, and he supposed it was to prevent any one from going backward or forward. whether they have the countersign or not? well, he did not know how that was. i then asked him if the officer of the guard had given him the countersign. yes, but he did not know whether it was right or not. "well," said i, "perhaps i can tell you whether it is correct; i have just come from headquarters." he seemed to think that there could be no harm in telling me if i had been at headquarters, so he told me without any hesitation. whereupon i proceeded to tell him of the impropriety of doing so; that it was a military offense for which he could be punished severely; and that he had no right to give the countersign to any one, not even the general in command. then told him how to hold his musket when he challenged any one on his beat, and within how many paces to let them approach him before halting them, etc. the boy received both lecture and instructions "in the spirit of meekness," and by the time i had finished a number of the men were standing around me eager to ask questions, and especially if i knew to what portion of the army that particular regiment was to be assigned. after passing along through these green troops i rode on till i came to a little village, which i never learned the name of, and intended to stop there the remainder of the night; but upon learning that a band of guerrillas occupied it, i turned aside, preferring to seek some other place of rest. i traveled till two o'clock in the morning, when my horse began to show signs of giving out; then i stopped at a farm-house, but not being able to make any one hear me, i hitched my horse under cover of a wood-shed, and taking the blanket from under the saddle, i lay down beside him, the saddle-blanket being my only covering. the storm had ceased, but the night was intensely cold, and the snow was about two or three inches deep. i shall always believe that i would have perished that night, had not my faithful horse lain down beside me, and by the heat of his beautiful head, which he laid across my shoulders, (a thing which he always did whenever i lay down where he could reach me,) kept me from perishing in my wet clothes. it will be remembered that i had started at daylight the previous morning, and had never been out of the saddle, or fed my horse but once since i started, and had not eaten a mouthful myself for twenty-four hours, and had ridden all day and almost all night in the storm. in the morning my feet and hands were so chilled that they were perfectly numb, and i could scarcely stand. however, as soon as daylight came i started again. about a mile from there i went into a field where the unhusked corn stood in stacks, and fed my horse. while employed in this manner, there came along a party of our cavalry looking after that band of guerrillas which i had passed the night before. it was known that they were in the neighborhood, and these men were sent out in search of them. i told them what i knew about it, and intimated that if i were not so hungry, i would go back with them to the village. that objection was soon removed, by supplying me with a substantial breakfast from their haversacks. we started for the village, and had gone about five miles when we were suddenly surprised and fired upon by the guerrillas. two of our men were killed on the spot, and my horse received three bullets. he reared and plunged before he fell, and in doing so the saddle-girth was broken, and saddle and rider were thrown over his head. i was thrown on the ground violently which stunned me for a moment, and my horse soon fell beside me, his blood pouring from three wounds. making a desperate effort to rise, he groaned once, fell back, and throwing his neck across my body, he saturated me from head to foot with his blood. he died in a few minutes. i remained in that position, not daring to rise, for our party had fled and the rebels pursued them. a very few minutes elapsed when the guerrillas returned, and the first thing i saw was one of the men thrusting his sabre into one of the dead men beside me. i was lying partially on my face, so i closed my eyes and passed for dead. the rebels evidently thought i was unworthy of their notice, for after searching the bodies of the two dead men they rode away; but just as i was making up my mind to crawl out from under the dead horse, i heard the tramp of a horse's feet, and lay perfectly still and held my breath. it was one of the same men, who had returned. dismounting, he came up and took hold of my feet, and partially drew me from under the horse's head, and then examined my pockets. fortunately, i had no official documents with me, and very little money--not more than five dollars. after transferring the contents of my pockets to his own, he re-mounted his horse and rode away, without ever suspecting that the object before him was playing possum. [illustration: playing possum.--page .] not long after the departure of the guerrillas, our party returned with reinforcements and pursued the rebel band. one of the men returned to camp with me, letting me ride his horse, and walked all the way himself. the guerrillas were captured that day, and, after searching them, my pocket-book was found upon one of them, and was returned to me with its contents undisturbed. it lies before me, while i write, reminding me of that narrow escape, and of the mercy of god in sparing my unprofitable life. a sov'reign protector i have, unseen, yet forever at hand; unchangeably faithful to save,-- almighty to rule and command. after returning to camp, i found that i had sustained more injury by my fall from the horse than i had realized at the time. but a broken limb would have been borne cheerfully, if i could only have had my pet horse again. that evening we held our weekly prayer-meeting, notwithstanding we were on a march. chaplain and mrs. b., nellie, and dr. e. were present, and joined heartily in singing the following hymn: and are we yet alive, and see each other's face? glory and praise to jesus give, for his redeeming grace. preserved by power divine to full salvation here, again in jesus' praise we join, and in his sight appear. what troubles have we seen! what conflicts have we past! fightings without, and fears within, since we assembled last! but out of all the lord hath brought us by his love; and still he doth his help afford, and hides our life above. chapter xxiii. mcclellan relieved--his address--burnside in command--on the march--falmouth--my ride--old battlefields--sad sights--"yankee skulls"--"bone ornaments"--shelling fredericksburg--pontoon bridges--occupation of the city--aide-de-camp--dreadful slaughter--a gallant major--strange sights--dark night--death of general bayard--someone's pet--recrossing the rappahannock. after reaching warrenton the army encamped in that vicinity for a few days--during which "father abraham" took the favorable opportunity of relieving the idol of the army of the potomac from his command, and ordered him to report at trenton, new jersey, just as he was entering upon another campaign, with his army in splendid condition. after a brief address and an affecting farewell to officers and men, he hastened to comply with the order. his farewell address was as follows: "november th, . officers and soldiers of the army of the potomac: an order of the president devolves upon major-general burnside the command of this army. in parting from you i cannot express the love and gratitude i bear you. as an army you have grown up under my care. in you i have never found doubt or coldness. the battles you have fought under my command will proudly live in our nation's history. the glory you have achieved, our mutual perils and fatigues, the graves of our comrades fallen in battle and by disease, the broken forms of those whom wounds and sickness have disabled--the strongest associations which can exist among men--unite us still by an indissoluble tie. we shall ever be comrades in supporting the constitution of our country and the nationality of its people." that was a sad day for the army of the potomac. the new commander marched the army immediately to falmouth, opposite fredericksburg. of the incidents of that march i know nothing, for i went to washington, and from thence to aquia creek by water. i did not return to washington on the cars, but rode on horseback, and made a two days' trip of it, visiting all the old places as i went. the battle-ground of the first and second bull run battles, centerville, fairfax court house, and chentilla. but how shall i describe the sights which i saw and the impressions which i had as i rode over those fields! there were men and horses thrown together in heaps, and some clay thrown on them above ground; others lay where they had fallen, their limbs bleaching in the sun without the appearance of burial. there was one in particular--a cavalryman: he and his horse both lay together, nothing but the bones and clothing remained; but one of his arms stood straight up, or rather the bones and the coatsleeve, his hand had dropped off at the wrist and lay on the ground; not a finger or joint was separated, but the hand was perfect. i dismounted twice for the purpose of bringing away that hand, but did not do so after all. i would have done so if it had been possible to find a clue to his name or regiment. the few families who still live in that vicinity tell horrid stories of the brutal conduct of the rebels after those battles. a southern clergyman declares that in the town where he now resides he saw rebel soldiers selling "yankee skulls" at ten dollars apiece. and it is a common thing to see rebel women wear rings and ornaments made of our soldiers' bones--in fact they boast of it, even to the union soldiers, that they have "yankee bone ornaments." this to me was a far more sickening sight than was presented at the time of the battles, with dead and wounded lying in their gore. i looked in vain for the old "brush heap" which had once screened me from the rebel cavalry; the fire had consumed it. but the remains of the stone church at centerville was an object of deep interest to me. i went from washington to aquia creek by steamer, and from thence to falmouth on horseback. i found the army encamped in the mud for miles along the rappahannock river. the river is very narrow between falmouth and fredericksburg, not more than a stone's cast in some places. i have often seen the pickets on both sides amusing themselves by throwing stones across it. some writer in describing the picturesque scenery in this locality says: "there is a young river meandering through its center, towards which slope down beautiful banks of mud on either side, while the fields are delightfully variegated by alternate patches of snow and swamp, and the numerous roads are in such condition that no matter which one you take you are sure to wish you had tried another instead." all the mud and bad roads on the peninsula could not bear the least comparison with that of falmouth and along the rappahannock. it was now december and the weather was extremely cold, yet the constant rains kept the roads in the most terrible state imaginable. on riding along the brink of the river we could see distinctly the rebel batteries frowning on the heights beyond the city of fredericksburg, and the rebel sentinels walking their rounds within talking distance of our own pickets. on the eleventh the city was shelled by our troops. the pontoon bridges were laid amid showers of bullets from the sharpshooters of the enemy, who were ensconced in the houses on the opposite bank. however, the work went steadily on, notwithstanding that two out of every three who were engaged in laying the bridges were either killed or wounded. but as fast as one fell another took his place. soon it was deemed expedient to take care of those sharpshooters before the bridges could be finished. several companies filed into boats and rowed across in a few minutes, the men of the seventh michigan leading the van, and drove the rebels from the houses, killing some and taking many prisoners. the bridges were soon completed, the troops marched over and took possession of the city. headquarters were established in the principal building, and a church and other large buildings were appropriated for hospital purposes. the following is an extract from my journal, written on the battlefield the second day after we crossed the river: battle-field, fredericksburg, va., _december , _. in consequence of one of general h.'s staff officers being ill i have volunteered to take his place, and am now aide-de-camp to general h. i wish my friends could see me in my present uniform! this division will probably charge on the enemy's works this afternoon. god grant them success! while i write the roar of cannon and musketry is almost deafening, and the shot and shell are falling fast on all sides. this may be my last entry in this journal. god's will be done. i commit myself to him, soul and body. i must close. general h. has mounted his horse, and says come--! of course it is not for me to say whose fault it was in sacrificing those thousands of noble lives which fell upon that disastrous field, or in charging again and again upon those terrible stone walls and fortifications, after being repulsed every time with more than half their number lying on the ground. the brave men, nothing daunted by their thinned ranks, advanced more fiercely on the foe-- plunged in the battery's smoke, fiercely the line they broke; strong was the saber stroke, making an army reel. but when it was proved to a demonstration that it was morally impossible to take and retain those heights, in consequence of the natural advantage of position which the rebels occupied, and still would occupy if they should fall back--whose fault was it that the attempt was made time after time, until the field was literally piled with dead and ran red with blood? we may truly say of the brave soldiers thus sacrificed-- their's not to reason why, their's not to make reply, their's but to do and die. among the many who fell in that dreadful battle perhaps there is none more worthy of notice than the brave and heroic major edward e. sturtevant, of keene, new hampshire, who fell while leading the gallant fifth in a charge upon the enemy. he was the first man in new hampshire who enlisted _for the war_. he was immediately authorized by the governor to make enlistments for the first new hampshire volunteers, and was eminently successful. he held the commission of captain in the first regiment, and afterwards was promoted major of the fifth. one of the leading papers of his native state has the following with regard to him: "he was in every battle where the regiment was engaged, nine or ten in number, besides skirmishes, and was slightly wounded at the battle of fair oaks. he commanded the regiment most of the time on the retreat from the chickahominy to james river. the filial affection of the deceased was of the strongest character, and made manifest in substantial ways on many occasions. his death is the first in the household, and deep is the grief that is experienced there; but that grief will doubtless be mitigated by the consoling circumstance that the departed son and brother died in a service that will hallow his memory forever. a braver man or more faithful friend never yielded up his spirit amidst the clash of arms and the wail of the dying." i well remember the desperate charge which that brave officer made upon the enemy just before he fell, and the thinned and bleeding ranks of his men as they returned, leaving their beloved commander on the field, reminded me of the "gallant six hundred," of whom tennyson has written the following lines: stormed at with shot and shell, they that had struck so well rode through the jaws of death, half a league back again up, from the mouth of hell-- all that was left of them. i have since had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with the bereaved family of the deceased, and deeply sympathize with them in the loss of one so noble, kind, and brave. major sturtevant was the son of george w. sturtevant, esq., and nephew of rev. david. kilburn--one of the pioneers of methodism--whom thousands will remember as a faithful and efficient minister of the gospel. during the progress of that battle i saw many strange sights--although i had been in many a fierce battle before. i never saw, till then, a man deliberately shoot himself, with his own pistol, in order to save the rebels the satisfaction of doing so, as it would seem. as one brigade was ordered into line of battle, i saw an officer take out his pistol and shoot himself through the side--not mortally, i am sorry to say, but just sufficient to unfit him for duty; so he was carried to the rear--he protesting that it was done by accident. another officer i saw there, a young and handsome lieutenant, disgrace his shoulder-straps by showing the white feather at the very moment when he was most needed. i rode three miles with general h. to general franklin's headquarters, the second night we were at fredericksburg, and of all the nights that i can recall to mind that was the darkest. on our way we had numerous ditches to leap, various ravines to cross, and mountains to climb, which can be better imagined than described. it was not only once or twice that horse and rider went tumbling into chasms head first, but frequently. as we passed along, we stopped at the headquarters of general bayard (general of cavalry) a few minutes--found him enjoying a cup of coffee under a large tree, which constituted his headquarters. we called again when we returned, but he was cold in death, having been struck by a stray shot, and died in a short time. he was killed just where we had left him, under the tree. he was a splendid officer, and his removal was a great loss to the federal cause. his death cast a gloom over his whole command which was deeply felt. of the wounded of this battle i can say but little, for my time was fully occupied in the responsible duties which i had volunteered to perform; and so constantly was i employed, that i was not out of the saddle but once in twelve hours, and that was to assist an officer of the seventy-ninth, who lay writhing in agony on the field, having been seized with cramps and spasms, and was suffering the most extreme pain. he was one of the brave and fearless ones, however, and in less than an hour, after having taken some powerful medicine which i procured for him, he was again on his horse, at the general's side. on going to the church hospital in search of doctor e., i saw an immense shell which had been sent through the building and fell on the floor, in the centre of those wounded and dying men who had just been carried off the field, and placed there for safety. but strange to say, it did not burst or injure any one, and was carried out and laid beside the mangled limbs which had been amputated in consequence of contact with just such instruments of death. i saw the remains of the rev. a. b. fuller, chaplain of the sixteenth massachusetts, as they were removed to the camp. he was faithful to his trust, and died at his post. on one of my necessary rides, in the darkness of that dreadful night, i passed by a grave-yard near by where our reserves were lying--and there, in that hour of darkness and danger, i heard the voice of prayer ascend. a group of soldiers were there holding communion with god--strengthening their souls for the coming conflict. there are, scattered over the battle-fields and camping-grounds of this war, bethels, consecrated to god, and sacred to souls who have wrestled and prevailed. this retirement was a grave-yard, with a marble slab for an altar, where that little band met to worship god--perhaps for the last time. but among all the dead and wounded, i saw none who touched my heart so much as one beautiful boy, severely wounded; he was scarcely more than a child, and certainly a very attractive one. some one writes the following, after he was sent to a hospital: "among the many brave, uncomplaining fellows who were brought up to the hospital from the battle of fredericksburg, was a bright-eyed and intelligent youth, sixteen years old, who belonged to a northern regiment. he appeared more affectionate and tender, more refined and thoughtful than many of his comrades, and attracted a good deal of attention from the attendants and visitors. manifestly the pet of some household which he had left, perhaps, in spite of entreaty and tears. he expressed an anxious longing for the arrival of his mother, who was expected, having been informed that he was mortally wounded, and failing fast. ere she arrived, however, he died. but before the end, almost his last act of consciousness was the thought that she had really come; for, as a lady sat by his pillow and wiped the death-dews from his brow, just as his sight was failing, he rallied a little, like an expiring taper in its socket, looked up longingly and joyfully, and in tones that drew tears from every eye whispered audibly, 'is that mother?' then drawing her toward him with all his feeble power, he nestled his head in her arms, like a sleeping child, and thus died, with the sweet word, 'mother,' on his lips." raise me in your arms, dear mother, let me once more look on the green and waving willows, and the flowing brook; hark, those strains of angel music from the choirs above! dearest mother, i am going, truly "god is love." a council of war was held by our generals, and the conclusion arrived at that the enterprise should be abandoned, and that the army should recross the rappahannock under cover of darkness. everything was conducted in the most quiet manner; so quiet, indeed, that the enemy never suspected the movement, and the retreat was accomplished, and the bridges partially removed, before the fact was discovered. chapter xxiv. after the battle--sufferings of the wounded--general burnside's order--"stuck in the mud"--hooker in command--western campaign--cavalry reconnoissance--another disguise--again in dixie--a wedding party--in a trap--rebel conscript--on the march--a rebel captain--a fierce engagement--again under the old flag--paying a debt of gratitude. after the battle of fredericksburg the weather was very cold, and the wounded suffered exceedingly--even after they were sent to aquia creek, and other places--for they could not all be provided for and made comfortable immediately. our troops returned to their old camps in the mud, and remained stationary for several weeks, notwithstanding our daily orders were to be ready to march at a moment's notice. the unnecessary slaughter of our men at fredericksburg had a sad effect upon our troops, and the tone of the northern press was truly distressing. the wailing for the noble dead seemed wafted on every breeze, for in the city, in the village, in the hamlet far away, sit the mothers, watching, waiting, for their soldier boys to-day. they are coming, daily coming, one by one, and score by score, in their leaden casings folded, underneath the flag they bore. on the twentieth of january general burnside issued the following order to the army, which was joyfully received; for of all places for an encampment, that seemed to be the most inconvenient and disagreeable: head-quarters, army of the potomac, _camp near falmouth, va._, jan. , . general orders--no. . the commanding general announces to the army of the potomac that they are about to meet the enemy once more. the late brilliant actions in north carolina, tennessee and arkansas, have divided and weakened the enemy on the rappahannock, and the auspicious moment seems to have arrived to strike a great and mortal blow to the rebellion, and to gain that decisive victory which is due to the country. let the gallant soldiers of so many brilliant battle-fields accomplish this achievement, and a fame the most glorious awaits them. the commanding general calls for the firm and united action of officers and men, and, under the providence of god, the army of the potomac will have taken the great step towards restoring peace to the country, and the government to its rightful authority. by command of major-general burnside. lewis richmond, _assistant adjutant-general_. soon after this order was issued a portion of the army did really move--but the pontoons became "stuck in the mud," and the troops returned again. in this manner the winter wore away, and a severe winter i thought it was; for in riding a distance of two miles, in two instances, i had my feet frozen. general hooker was now put in command of the army of the potomac, and burnside, with the ninth army corps, ordered to the western department. being desirous of leaving the army of the potomac, i now applied for permission to go with the ninth corps, which was granted. i did not go with the troops, however, but went to washington first, and remained several days; then took the cars and proceeded to louisville, kentucky, and arrived there before the troops did. the last entry in my journal, before leaving the army of the potomac, was as follows: "the _weather_ department is in perfect keeping with the war department; its policy being to make as many changes as possible, and every one worse than the last. may god bless the old army of the potomac, and save it from total annihilation." on the arrival of the troops at louisville, they were sent in detachments to different places--some to bardstown, some to lebanon, and others to guard different portions of the railroad. the third day after my arrival i went out with a reconnoitering expedition, under command of general m. it was entirely composed of cavalry. we rode thirty-six miles that afternoon--the roads were splendid. when we were about twelve miles from our lines we changed our course and struck through the woods, fording creeks and crossing swamps, which was anything but pleasant. after emerging from the thick undergrowth, on one occasion, we came upon an inferior force of the enemy's cavalry; a sharp skirmish ensued, which resulted in the capture of five prisoners from the rebel band, and wounding several. three of our men were slightly wounded, but we returned to louisville in good order, and enjoyed the luxury of a good supper at a hotel, which is a rare thing in that city. i took the cars the next day and went to lebanon--dressed in one of the rebel prisoner's clothes--and thus disguised, made another trip to rebeldom. my business purported to be buying up butter and eggs, at the farm-houses, for the rebel army. i passed through the lines somewhere, without knowing it; for on coming to a little village toward evening, i found it occupied by a strong force of rebel cavalry. the first house i went to was filled with officers and citizens. i had stumbled upon a wedding party, unawares. captain logan, a recruiting officer, had been married that afternoon to a brilliant young widow whose husband had been killed in the rebel army a few months before. she had discovered that widow's weeds were not becoming to her style of beauty, so had decided to appear once more in bridal costume, for a change. i was questioned pretty sharply by the handsome captain in regard to the nature of my business in that locality, but finding me an innocent, straightforward kentuckian, he came to the conclusion that i was all right. but he also arrived at the conclusion that i was old enough to be in the army, and bantered me considerably upon my want of patriotism. the rebel soldier's clothes which i wore did not indicate any thing more than that i was a kentuckian--for their cavalry do not dress in any particular uniform, for scarcely two of them dress alike--the only uniformity being that they most generally dress in butternut color. i tried to make my escape from that village as soon as possible, but just as i was beginning to congratulate myself upon my good fortune, who should confront me but captain logan. said he: "see here, my lad; i think the best thing you can do is to enlist, and join a company which is just forming here in the village, and will leave in the morning. we are giving a bounty to all who freely enlist, and are conscripting those who refuse. which do you propose to do, enlist and get the bounty, or refuse, and be obliged to go without anything?" i replied, "i think i shall wait a few days before i decide." "but we can't wait for you to decide," said the captain; "the yankees may be upon us any moment, for we are not far from their lines, and we will leave here either to-night or in the morning early. i will give you two hours to decide this question, and in the mean time you must be put under guard." so saying, he marched me back with him, and gave me in charge of the guards. in two or three hours he came for my decision, and i told him that i had concluded to wait until i was conscripted. "well," said he, "you will not have long to wait for that, so you may consider yourself a soldier of the confederacy from this hour, and subject to military discipline." this seemed to me like pretty serious business, especially as i would be required to take the oath of allegiance to the confederate government. however, i did not despair, but trusted in providence and my own ingenuity to escape from this dilemma also; and as i was not required to take the oath until the company was filled up, i was determined to be among the missing ere it became necessary for me to make any professions of loyalty to the rebel cause. i knew that if i should refuse to be sworn into the service after i was conscripted, that in all probability my true character would be suspected, and i would have to suffer the penalty of death--and that, too, in the most barbarous manner. i was glad to find that it was a company of cavalry that was being organized, for if i could once get on a good horse there would be some hope of my escape. there was no time to be lost, as the captain remarked, for the yankees might make a dash upon us at any moment; consequently a horse and saddle was furnished me, and everything was made ready for a start immediately. ten o'clock came, and we had not yet started. the captain finally concluded that, as everything seemed quiet, we would not start until daylight. music and dancing was kept up all night, and it was some time after daylight when the captain made his appearance. a few moments more and we were trotting briskly over the country, the captain complimenting me upon my horsemanship, and telling me how grateful i would be to him when the war was over and the south had gained her independence, and that i would be proud that i had been one of the soldiers of the southern confederacy, who had steeped my saber in yankee blood, and driven the vandals from our soil. "then," said he, "you will thank me for the interest which i have taken in you, and for the _gentle persuasives_ which i made use of to stir up your patriotism and remind you of your duty to your country." in this manner we had traveled about half an hour, when we suddenly encountered a reconnoitering party of the federals, cavalry in advance, and infantry in the rear. a contest soon commenced; we were ordered to advance in line, which we did, until we came within a few yards of the yankees. the company advanced, but my horse suddenly became unmanageable, and it required a second or two to bring him right again; and before i could overtake the company and get in line the contending parties had met in a hand to hand fight. all were engaged, so that when i, by accident, got on the federal side of the line, none observed me for several minutes, except the federal officer, who had recognized me and signed to me to fall in next to him. that brought me face to face with my rebel captain, to whom i owed such a debt of gratitude. thinking this would be a good time to cancel all obligations in that direction, i discharged the contents of my pistol in his face. this act made me the center of attraction. every rebel seemed determined to have the pleasure of killing me first, and a simultaneous dash was made toward me and numerous saber strokes aimed at my head. our men with one accord rushed between me and the enemy, and warded off the blows with their sabers, and attacked them with such fury that they were driven back several rods. [illustration: paying a debt of gratitude.--page .] the infantry now came up and deployed as skirmishers, and succeeded in getting a position where they had a complete cross-fire on the rebels, and poured in volley after volley until nearly half their number lay upon the ground. finding it useless to fight longer at such a disadvantage they turned and fled, leaving behind them eleven killed, twenty-nine wounded, and seventeen prisoners. the confederate captain was wounded badly but not mortally; his handsome face was very much disfigured, a part of his nose and nearly half of his upper lip being shot away. i was sorry, for the graceful curve of his mustache was sadly spoiled, and the happy bride of the previous morning would no longer rejoice in the beauty of that manly face and exquisite mustache of which she seemed so proud, and which had captivated her heart ere she had been three months a widow. our men suffered considerable loss before the infantry came up, but afterward scarcely lost a man. i escaped without receiving a scratch, but my horse was badly cut across the neck with a saber, but which did not injure him materially, only for a short time. after burying the dead, federal and rebel, we returned to camp with our prisoners and wounded, and i rejoiced at having once more escaped from the confederate lines. i was highly commended by the commanding general for my coolness throughout the whole affair, and was told kindly and candidly that i would not be permitted to go out again in that vicinity, in the capacity of spy, as i would most assuredly meet with some of those who had seen me desert their ranks, and i would consequently be hung up to the nearest tree. not having any particular fancy for such an exalted position, and not at all ambitious of having my name handed down to posterity among the list of those who "expiated their crimes upon the gallows," i turned my attention to more quiet and less dangerous duties. then sweet thoughts of home came stealing over my mind, and i exclaimed: adieu, dear land, with beauty teeming, where first i roved a careless child; of thee my heart will e'er be dreaming-- thy snow-clad peaks and mountains wild. dear land, that i cherish, o, long may'st thou flourish! my memory must perish ere i forget thee. chapter xxv. appointed detective--i visit louisville--secesh acquaintances--seeking employment--peddling--rebel spies--acting as clerk--trapping spies--start for vicksburg--pro-slavery troops--cruelty to negroes--visiting hospitals--touching scenes--an armless soldier--patient suffering--triumphant death--rally round the flag--western chaplains--soldiers' testimony--effect of prayer in battle--carrying the wounded. being prohibited from further explorations in that region outside of our lines, i was appointed to act as detective inside of the lines, as there were many spies in our midst who were daily giving information to the enemy, and had baffled all attempts at discovery. i forthwith dressed in citizen's clothes and proceeded to louisville, and there mingled freely with the citizens, visited the different places of public resort, and made many secesh acquaintances. at length i found a merchant who was the most bitter in his denunciations of the yankees that it has ever been my lot to meet, and i thought he would be a pretty good person to assist me in my undertakings. stepping into his store one morning i inquired if he was in need of a clerk. he replied that he would require help in a few days, as one of his clerks was going to leave. then came the interrogatory process--who was i, where did i come from, and what had brought me to that city? well, i was a foreigner, and wishing to see a little of this great american war, i had come "down south;" and now that i was here, finding myself scarce of money, i would like to find some employment. this was literally true. i was a foreigner, and very often scarce of money, and really wished him to employ me. he finally told me that i might come in the course of a week; but that did not suit my purpose, so i told him i would rather come at once, as i would be learning considerable before the other clerk went away; adding that he might give me just whatever he pleased for the first week's work. that seemed to suit him and i was at once set to work. after i had been there several days, i was asked how i would like to go out to the nearest camp and sell some small articles to the soldiers. i would like it much; so was sent accordingly with an assortment of pocket knives, combs and suspenders. by the middle of the afternoon i had sold out my stock in trade, returned to the store, and gave a good account of myself and of the goods intrusted to my care. my employer was pleased with my success and seemed interested in me, and each day brought some new proof of his confidence. things went on this way for two weeks, in which time i had succeeded, by the good merchant's assistance, in finding a clue to three rebel spies then within our lines. i was often questioned by my employer with regard to my political sentiments, but of course i did not know anything about politics--in fact i hardly knew how to apply the terms federal and confederate, and often misapplied them when talking in the store, and was frequently told that i must not call the d--d yankees, confederates, and all due pains were taken to instruct me, and give me a proper insight into the true state of affairs, as seen by southern secessionists. at last i expressed a desire to enter the confederate service, and asked the merchant how i should manage to get through the yankee lines if i should decide to take such a step. after a long conversation, and much planning, we at last decided that i should go through our lines the next night with a person who was considered by our troops a thorough union man, as he had taken the oath of allegiance to the federal government--but who was in reality a rebel spy. that afternoon i was sent out again to dispose of some goods to the soldiers, and while i was gone took the favorable opportunity of informing the provost marshal of my intended escape the following night together with my brother spy. after telling him that i might not be able to leave the store again with any more definite information without incurring suspicion, and that he had better send some one to the store at a certain hour the next day to purchase some trifle, so that i might inclose in the parcel the necessary information, i went back to the store, and my clever employer told me that i had better not trouble myself any more about anything, but get ready for my journey. having but little preparation to make, however, i soon returned to the store. not long after a gentleman came in, to whom i was introduced, and was told that this was the person who proposed to conduct me through the lines. he was not announced in his true character, but i understood at once that this gentlemanly personage was no less than the spy before referred to. he questioned me pretty sharply, but i being "slow of speech," referred him to the merchant, whose eloquence had convinced me of my duty to the southern confederacy. my employer stood beside me and gave him a brief history of our acquaintance and of his confidence in me; also of his own peculiar faculty of impressing the truth upon unprejudiced minds. the spy evidently took me for a poor green boy whom the merchant had flattered into the idea of becoming a soldier, but who did not realize the responsibility of my position, and i confirmed him in that opinion by saying--"well, i suppose if i don't like soldiering they will let me go home again?" the provost marshal himself came in during the day, and i had my document ready informing him what time we would start and what direction we were to take. the night came, and we started about nine o'clock. as we walked along toward the rebel lines the spy seemed to think that i was a true patriot in the rebel cause, for he entertained me with a long conversation concerning his exploits in the secret service; and of the other two who were still in camp he said one of them was a sutler, and the other sold photographs of our generals. we were pursuing our way in the darkness, talking in a low, confidential tone, when suddenly a number of cavalry dashed upon us and took us both prisoners. as soon as we were captured we were searched, and documents found on my companion which condemned him as a spy. we were then marched back to louisville and put under guard. the next morning he was taken care of, and i was sent to general m.'s headquarters. the next thing to be done was to find the other two spies. the sutler was found and put under arrest, and his goods confiscated, but the dealer in photographs had made his escape. i never dared go back to louisville again, for i had ample reason to believe that my life would pay the penalty if i did. about this time the ninth army corps was ordered to vicksburg, where general grant had already commenced his siege. while the troops waited at the depot for transportation a little incident occurred which illustrates the spirit of the kentucky soldiers on the slavery question. two of our kentucky regiments were stationed as guards at the depot, and on this occasion were amusing themselves by throwing stones at every poor negro who had occasion to pass within a stone's throw of them. a michigan regiment marched into the depot on its way to vicksburg, and along with it some smart, saucy darkies, in the capacity of servants. the native soldiers began the same game with them, by throwing stones at and abusing them; but the michigan men informed them that "if they did not stop that kind of business immediately they would find more work on hand than they could attend to," as they considered their servants a necessary part of their regiment, and would not permit them to be abused or insulted any more than if they were white men. this gave rise to a warm discussion between the troops, and ended in the kentuckians forbidding and prohibiting the different regiments from taking a negro with them from the state under any circumstances. of course this incensed our patriotic troops, and in five minutes they were in line of battle arrayed against their pro-slavery brethren in arms. but before blood was shed the commander of the post was informed, and hastened to the spot to prevent further mischief. when the case was fully made known to him he could not settle the matter, for he was a kentuckian by birth, and his sympathies were with the native troops--yet he knew if he should decide in their favor that a bloody fight would be the consequence, as the troops still remained in line of battle awaiting the decision of the commander. he finally told them that they must remain there until he telegraphed to the headquarters of the department and received an answer. consequently the troops were detained two days waiting for the despatch that would decide the contest. the men became tired of the fun and marched back to camp. in consequence of this affair the poor negroes fared worse than ever, and the troops had no sooner gone back to camp than the kentuckians swore they would hang every "nigger" that came into their camp. during the day i was passing through the depot, and saw a little black urchin selling cakes and pies, who had no sooner made his appearance than the guards took his basket away from him. the boy commenced to cry, when four of the soldiers took hold of him, each one taking hold of a hand or foot, and pulled him almost limb from limb--just as i have seen cruel schoolboys torture frogs. when they threw him on the ground he could neither speak, cry, nor walk, but there he lay a little quivering, convulsive heap of pain and misery. the telegram came at last, and the troops were permitted to depart in peace--taking with them their colored friends, to the chagrin of the kentucky guards. before reaching vicksburg i visited several hospitals where the wounded had been brought from those terrible battles preceding the siege of vicksburg, where thousands lay, with all conceivable sorts of wounds. several i saw without either arms or legs, having been torn and mangled by shell so that it was impossible to save even a single limb--and yet they lived, and would probably recover. one handsome young man lay on one of the hospital boats who had lost both arms--a most noble specimen of the patient, cheerful, suffering soldier. of this young man the rev. mr. savage writes: "there he lay upon his cot, armless, and knowing that this must be his condition through life; but yet with a cheerful, happy countenance, and not a single word of complaint. i ministered to his wants, and as i cut up fruit in mouthfuls, and put them in his mouth, he would say, 'well, now, how good that is! how kind of you! the lord will bless you for it. i don't see why you are so kind to me. as if any one could be too kind to a man who had suffered such a loss in defense of his country. his soul seemed to be resting peacefully upon jesus amid all his great sufferings. one thing touched me exceedingly: as i spoke of his feelings, the tears coursed down his cheeks and lay upon them. he had no hands with which even to wipe away the tears from his own face; and as i took a handkerchief and tenderly performed this office, that beautiful passage of scripture occurred to me with a force it never did before: 'and god shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.'" near by lay another young man, an officer, mortally wounded--fast breathing his life away--he seemed unconscious of his dying state. i asked the nurse, in a low whisper, if he knew he was dying, but before the nurse could reply, he looked up with a smile, and said: "yes, yes, i know it. praise god! there is not a cloud between my soul and jesus. i am waiting--i--waiting--." these were his last words. a few moments more and his tongue was silent in death. but he's gone to rest in heaven above, to sing his saviour's praise. one of the military agents at nashville relates a most thrilling incident, which he witnessed in a hospital at that place. he says: "last evening, when passing by the post hospital, my attention was arrested by the singing, in rather a loud voice, of 'rally round the flag, boys,' by one of the patients inside. while listening to the beautiful music of that popular song, i observed to a nurse standing in the door-way, that the person singing must be in a very merry mood, and could not be very sick. 'you are mistaken, sir,' said he; 'the poor fellow engaged in singing that good old song is now grappling with death--has been dying all day. i am his nurse,' he continued, 'and the scene so affected me that i was obliged to leave the room. he is just about breathing his last.' "i stepped into the ward, and true enough, the brave man was near his end. his eyes were already fixed in death. he was struggling with all his remaining strength against the grim monster, while at the same time there gushed forth from his patriotic soul incoherently the words: 'rally round the flag, boys,' which had so often cheered him through his weary march, and braced him up when entering the field of blood in defense of his country. finally he sank away into his death-slumber, and joined his maker's command, that is marching onward to that far-off, better land. the last audible sound that escaped his lips was, 'rally boys, rally once again!' as his eyes were closing, some dozen of his comrades joined in a solemn, yet beautiful hymn, appropriate to the occasion. take it altogether, this was one of the most affecting scenes i have ever witnessed in a hospital. it drew tears copiously from near one hundred of us. it occurred in the large ward which occupies the entire body of the church on cherry street. the deceased was an illinoisan, and had been wounded in one of the recent skirmishes." i noticed in the western department that the chaplains were much more faithful to their trust, and attentive to the sick and wounded, than the chaplains in the army of the potomac--taking them as a class. one man in speaking of his chaplain, said: "he is one of the best men in the world; he has a temperance meeting once a week, a prayer meeting twice a week, and other meetings as he is able to hold them; and then he labors personally among the men. he also comforts the sick and dying. i saw him with one of our comrades before he died, watching and praying with him; and when he died, he closed his eyes and prepared him for the grave with his own hands." another said: "over at frederickstown, as our lines were beginning to give way, and many thought the day was lost, our chaplain stepped right out from the ranks, between us and the enemy's lines, knelt down upon the ground, and lifted up his voice in most earnest prayer to god for divine help in that hour of need. i never felt so in all my life as i did at that moment. an inspiration, as from god, seemed to seize us all; we rallied, charged, drove the enemy before us, and gained the important victory at frederickstown, which perhaps has saved to us the state of mississippi." and yet another soldier gave testimony like the following, with regard to a chaplain who had followed his regiment through every battle in which it had participated. said he: "he was with us day after day, and as soon as a man fell wounded, he would take him up in his arms and carry him out where the surgeon could take care of him; and the last day i saw him, his clothes, from head to foot, were literally dripping with the blood of dead and wounded men that he had carried from the battle-field." this noble chaplain reminds me of a brave soldier in the army of the potomac, who was in the hottest of the battle at antietam, where the bullets were sweeping like death-hail through the ranks. the line wavered; there were strong symptoms of falling back on the part of his regiment. this man rushed toward the color-bearer, who stood hesitating, seized the standard and advanced with firm and rapid step several paces in front of the foremost man; then thrusting down the flag-staff into the ground he looked up at the banner, then at the wavering line, and said--"there, boys, come up to that!" chapter xxvi. a unionist from the rebel army--his testimony--southern hospitals--patriotism--female recruiting--crinoline--"sweet little man"--confederate system--north and south contrasted--rebel impressment--brothers' cruelty--dying for the union--fate of a tennessee patriot--on the mississippi--invisible attraction--an important question--moral sublimity--contraband's jubilee. at one of the hospitals near vicksburg i met a man who had served a year in the confederate army, having been conscripted by the rebels, and remained that length of time before he found an opportunity to escape. he was an educated, and highly intelligent young man, and it was deeply interesting to listen to his account of the southern side of this rebellion. he told me that the southern people, and especially the ladies, were much more patriotic than the people of the north. after a battle, the citizens, both men and women, come with one accord to assist in taking care of the wounded; bringing with them, gratuitously, every article of comfort and convenience that their means will admit, and their patriotism suggest. farmers come to the hospitals with loads of provisions, and the women come with fruits, wines, jellies, etc., and cheerfully submit to the hardships and fatigue of hospital labor without the slightest remuneration. said he: "the women down south are the best recruiting officers--for they absolutely refuse to tolerate, or admit to their society, any young man who refuses to enlist; and very often send their lovers, who have not enlisted, skirts and crinoline, with a note attached, suggesting the appropriateness of such a costume unless they donned the confederate uniform at once." i have often thought of this trait of the southern ladies' character, and contrasted it with the flattering receptions so lavishly bestowed upon our able-bodied "home guards," by the new-england fair ones who profess to love the old flag and despise its enemies. and i have wondered if an extensive donation of "crinoline" would not be more effectual in filling up our ranks, than graceful bows and bewitching smiles. and i would mildly suggest that each package of crinoline be accompanied by the following appropriate lines: now, while our soldiers are fighting our battles, each at his post to do all that he can, down among rebels and contraband chattels, what are _you_ doing, my sweet little man? all the brave boys under canvas are sleeping, all of them pressing to march with the van, far from their homes where their sweethearts are weeping; what are _you_ waiting for, sweet little man? you, with the terrible warlike mustaches, fit for a colonel or chief of a clan, you with the waist made for sword-belts and sashes, where are your shoulder-straps, sweet little man? we send you the buttonless garments of woman! cover your face lest it freckle or tan; muster the apron-string guards on the common-- that is the corps for the sweet little man. all the fair maidens about him shall cluster, pluck the white feathers from bonnet and fan, make him a plume like a turkey-wing duster-- that is the crest for the sweet little man. give him for escort a file of young misses, each of them armed with a deadly rattan, they shall defend him from laughter and hisses aimed by low boys at the sweet little man. and now, while i am contrasting the conduct of the north and south, i may as well give another testimony in favor of the confederate system. the following testimony comes from one who has served in the rebel army in the capacity of surgeon. he says: "the confederate military authorities have complete control of the press, so that nothing is ever allowed to appear in print which can in any way give information to the north or prove a clue to southern movements. in this it appears to me that they have an unspeakable advantage over the north, with its numberless papers and hundreds of correspondents in the loyal army. with what the correspondents tell and surmise, and what the confederates find out through spies and informers of various kinds, they are able to see through many of the plans of the union forces before they are put into execution. no more common remark did i hear than this as officers were reading the northern papers: 'see what d--d fools those yankees are. general a---- has left b---- for c----. we will cut him off. why the northern generals or the secretary of war tolerate this freedom of news we cannot imagine.'" and he further adds: "every daily paper i have read since i came north has contained information, either by direct statement or implication, by which the enemy can profit. if we meant to play into the hands of the rebels, we could hardly do it more successfully than our papers are doing it daily. sure am i that if a southern paper contained such information of their movements as do the northern of ours, the editor's neck would not be safe an hour. but some will say: 'we often see information quoted from the southern papers of their movements.' never, until the movement has been carried out. it is always safe to conclude, if you see in a southern paper any statement with regard to the movement of troops, or that the army is about to do a certain thing, that it will not be done, but something different." freedom of opinion and of the press is certainly a precious boon, but when it endangers the lives of our soldiers and frustrates the plans of our government, surely it is time to adopt measures to control it, just as much as it is necessary to arrest the spies who come within our lines. another relates the following touching incident of the southern style of increasing their army, and punishing offenders: "when the rebels were raising a force in eastern tennessee, two brothers by the name of rowland volunteered. a younger brother was a union man, and refusing to enlist, was seized and forced into the army. he constantly protested against his impressment, but without avail. he then warned them that he would desert the first opportunity, as he would not fight against the cause of right and good government. they were inexorable, and he was torn from his family and hurried to the field. at the battle of fort donaldson, rowland escaped from the rebels in the second day's fight, and immediately joined the loyal army. though now to fight against his own brothers, he felt that he was in a righteous cause, and contending for a worthy end. in the battle of pittsburg landing he was taken prisoner by the very regiment to which he had formerly belonged. this sealed his fate. on his way to corinth several of his old comrades, among them his two brothers, attempted to kill him, one of them nearly running him through with a bayonet. he was, however, rescued by the guard, and brought to camp. three days after the retreating army had reached corinth, general hardee, in whose division was the regiment claiming this man as a deserter, gave orders to have rowland executed. about four o'clock in the afternoon, the same day, some ten thousand tennessee troops were drawn up in two parallel lines, facing inward, three hundred yards apart. the doomed man, surrounded by the guard, detailed from his own regiment to shoot him, marched with a firm step into the middle of the space between the two lines of troops. here his grave was already dug, and a black pine coffin lay beside it. no minister of religion offered to direct his thoughts to a gracious saviour. the sentence was read, and he was asked if he had anything to say why it should not be executed. he spoke in a firm, decided tone, in a voice which could be heard by many hundreds, and nearly in the following words: 'fellow-soldiers, tennesseeans--i was forced into southern service against my will, and against my conscience. i told them i would desert the first opportunity i found, and i did it. i was always a union man, and never denied it; and i joined the union army to do all the damage i could to the confederates. i believe the union cause is right, and will triumph. they can kill me but once, and i am not afraid to die in a good cause. my only request is, that you let my wife and family know that i died in supporting my principles. my brothers there would shoot me if they had a chance, but i forgive them. now shoot me through the heart, that i may die instantly.' "after rowland had ceased to speak, he took off hat, coat and neck-tie, and laying his hand on his heart, he said, "aim here." the sergeant of the guard advanced to tie his hands and blindfold him. he asked the privilege of standing untied, but the request was not granted. his eyes were bandaged, he knelt upon his coffin and engaged in prayer for several minutes, and then said he was ready. the lieutenant of the guard then gave the word, 'fire!' and twenty-four muskets were discharged. when the smoke lifted, the body had fallen backward, and was still. several bullets had passed through his head, and some through his heart. his body was tumbled into the rough pine box, and was buried by the men who shot him." such was the fate of a tennessee patriot, who was not afraid to declare his love for the union, and his faith in its final triumph, in the very presence of some of the leading traitors, and of thousands of his rebellious countrymen, a moment, before sealing his patriotism with his blood. on board of a transport, on the mississippi river, as we glided toward our destination, i sat quietly listening to the variety of topics which was being discussed around me, until a peculiarly sweet voice caused me to turn and look in the direction from whence it proceeded. reader, has your heart ever been taken by storm, in consequence of the mere intonations of a voice--ere you beheld the individual who gave them utterance? on this occasion, i turned and saw "one of god's images cut in ebony." time had wrinkled his face, and the frosts of four-score winters had whitened his woolly locks, palsied his limbs, and dimmed his vision. he had been a slave all his life, and now, at the eleventh hour, when "the silver cord was almost loosed, and the golden bowl well nigh broken," he was liberated from bondage, and was rejoicing in freedom from slavery, and in that freedom wherewith christ makes his children free. by some invisible attraction, a large crowd gathered around this old, decrepid slave, and every eye was fixed upon his sable withered face, as he gave a brief and touching history of his slave life. when he had finished, the soldiers eagerly began to ask questions--but suddenly the old colored man turned querist, and raising himself up, and leaning forward toward the crowd, he asked, in a voice strangely thrilling and solemn, "are any of you soldiers of the lord jesus christ?" one looked at another with evident embarrassment; but at length some one stammered out--"we don't know exactly; that is a hard question, uncle." "oh no," said he, "dat is not a hard question--if you be soldiers of christ you _know_ it, you must know it; de lord does not do his work so poorly dat his people don't know when it's done. now jes' let me say a word more: dear soldiers--before eber you lebe dis boat--before eber you go into anoder battle--enlist for jesus; become soldiers ob de blessed redeemer, and you are safe; safe when de battle rages, safe when de chills ob death come, safe when de world's on fire." one of the men, desirous of changing the conversation, said: "uncle, are you blind?" he replied: "oh no, bless de lord, i am not blind to de tings ob de spirit. i see by an eye ob faith my blessed saviour sitting at de right hand ob god, and i'll soon see him more clearly, for jesus loves dis old blind darkie, and will soon take him home." now, when we talk of moral sublimity we are apt to point to alexander conquering the world, to hannibal surmounting the alps, to cæsar crossing the rubicon, or to lawrence wrapping himself in the american flag and crying "don't give up the ship!" but in my opinion here was a specimen of moral sublimity equal to anything that ever graced the pages of history or was ever exhibited upon a battle-field--a poor old, blind, palsied slave, resting upon the "rock of ages," while the waves of affliction dashed like mountains at his feet; yet, looking up to heaven, and trusting in the great and precious promises, he gave glory to god, and triumphed over pain and disease, rejoicing even in tribulation. while the old slave was talking to the soldiers a number of young darkies came forward, and when the conversation ceased they all struck up the following piece, and sang it with good effect: oh, praise an' tanks! de lord he come to set de people free; an' massa tink it day ob doom, an' we ob jubilee. de lord dat heap de red sea waves, he jes' as strong as den; he say de word--we las' night slaves, to-day de lord's free men. chorus--de yam will grow, de cotton blow, we'll hab de rice an' corn, o nebber you fear if nebber you hear de driber blow his horn. ole massa on his trabbles gone he lebe de land behind; de lord's breff blow him furder on, like corn-shuck in de wind. we own de hoe, we own de plow, we own de hands dat hold; we sell de pig, we sell de cow, but neber chile be sold. chorus--de yam will grow, etc. we know de promise nebber fail, an' nebber lie de word; so, like de 'postles in de jail, we waited for de lord. an' now he open ebery door, an' trow away de key, he tink we lub him so before, we lub him better free. chorus--de yam will grow, etc. then a collection was taken up among the soldiers and presented to the old blind colored man, who wept with delight as he received it, for said he--"i hab no home, no money, an' no friend, but de lord jesus." chapter xxvii. arrival at vicksburg--its surroundings--grant's army--assault on the rebel works--the seven color-bearers--pemberton's harangue--in the trenches--sufferings of the wounded--pemberton's proposed capitulation--grant's reply--terms of surrender--occupation of the city--loss of the enemy--complimentary letter--grant's success--attachment of his soldiers--"fighting dick"--gold lace--rebel sufferings--sights in vicksburg--incidents of the siege--cave life. our troops at length joined general grant's army near vicksburg, where those veterans had been digging and fighting so many weeks. the city of vicksburg is nestled among numerous terraced hills, and would under other circumstances present a magnificent and romantic appearance; but i could not at that time realize its beauty, for the knowledge of the sufferings and distress of thousands within its walls detracted materially from its outward grandeur. the enemy's works had consisted of a series of redoubts extending from haines' bluff to the warrenton road, a distance of some ten miles. it was a vast plateau, upon which a multitude of little hills seemed to have been sown broadcast, giving the enemy a position from which it could sweep every neighboring crest and enfilade every approach. but the rebels had already been driven from this position after a severe struggle. on the twenty-second of may, at two o'clock in the morning, heavy guns were opened upon the rebel works, and continued until ten o'clock, when a desperate assault was made by three corps moving simultaneously. after a severe engagement and heavy loss the flag of the seventh missouri was planted on one of the rebel parapets, after seven color-bearers had been shot down. after this contest the rebel general, pemberton, addressed his men as follows: "you have heard that i was incompetent and a traitor, and that it was my intention to sell vicksburg. follow me, and you will see the cost at which i will sell vicksburg. when the last pound of beef, bacon and flour, the last grain of corn, the last cow and hog, horse and dog shall have been consumed, and the last man shall have perished in the trenches, then, and not till then, will i sell vicksburg." it became evident that the works could not be carried by assault, and that nothing but a regular siege could reduce the fortifications. while the siege was in progress our soldiers endured hardships, privations and sufferings which words can but inadequately express. our men were closely packed in the trenches, often in water to the knees, and not daring to lift their heads above the brow of the rifle pits, as the rebel sharpshooters lost no time in saluting every unfortunate head which made its appearance above ground. the sufferings of the wounded were extreme. those who were wounded during the day in the trenches nearest the city could not be removed until the curtain of night fell upon the scene and screened them from the vigilant eye of the enemy. general grant steadily approached the doomed city by means of saps and mines, and continued to blow up their defenses, until it was evident that another day's work would complete the capture of the city. such was the position of affairs on the third of july, when general pemberton proposed an armistice and capitulation. major general bowen, of the confederate army, was the bearer of a despatch to general grant, under a flag of truce, proposing the surrender of the city, which was as follows: headquarters, vicksburg, _july d, _. major general grant, commanding united states forces: general--i have the honor to propose to you an armistice for--hours, with a view of arranging terms for the capitulation of vicksburg. to this end, if agreeable to you, i will appoint three commissioners to meet a like number to be named by yourself, at such place and hour to-day as you may find convenient. i make this proposition to save the farther effusion of blood, which must otherwise be shed to a frightful extent, feeling myself fully able to maintain my position for a yet indefinite period. this communication will be handed to you, under flag of truce, by major general james bowen. very respectfully, your obedient servant, j. c. pemberton. to which general grant replied: headquarters, department of tennessee, in the field, near vicksburg, _july d, _. lieutenant general j. c. pemberton, commanding confederate forces, etc.: general--your note of this date, just received, proposes an armistice of several hours for the purpose of arranging terms of capitulation, through commissioners to be appointed, etc. the effusion of blood you propose stopping by this course can be ended at any time you may choose by an unconditional surrender of the city and garrison. men who have shown so much endurance and courage as those now in vicksburg will always challenge the respect of an adversary, and, i can assure you, will be treated with all the respect due them as prisoners of war. i do not favor the proposition of appointing commissioners to arrange terms of capitulation, because i have no other terms than those indicated above. i am, general, very respectfully, your obedient servant, u. s. grant. then the following document was made out by general grant, and submitted for acceptance: general--in conformity with the agreement of this afternoon, i will submit the following proposition for the surrender of the city of vicksburg, public stores, etc. on your accepting the terms proposed, i will march in one division, as a guard, and take possession at eight o'clock to-morrow morning. as soon as paroles can be made out and signed by the officers and men, you will be allowed to march out of our lines, the officers taking with them their regimental clothing, and staff, field and cavalry officers, one horse each. the rank and file will be allowed all their clothing, but no other property. if these conditions are accepted, any amount of rations you may deem necessary can be taken from the stores you now have, and also the necessary cooking utensils for preparing them; thirty wagons also, counting two two-horse or mule teams as one. you will be allowed to transport such articles as cannot be carried along. the same conditions will be allowed to all sick and wounded officers and privates as fast as they become able to travel. the paroles for these latter must be signed, however, whilst officers are present authorized to sign the roll of prisoners. after some further correspondence on both sides this proposition was accepted, and on the fourth of july the federals took possession of the city of vicksburg. a paragraph from general grant's official despatch will best explain the result of his campaign, together with the surrender of vicksburg: "the defeat of the enemy in five battles outside of vicksburg, the occupation of jackson, the capital of the state of mississippi, and the capture of vicksburg and its garrison and munitions of war, a loss to the enemy of thirty-seven thousand prisoners, among whom were fifteen general officers, at least ten thousand killed and wounded, and among the killed generals tracy, tilghman and green, and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of stragglers, who can never be collected and organized. arms and munitions of war for an army of sixty thousand have fallen into our hands, besides a large amount of other public property, consisting of railroads, locomotives, cars, steamboats, cotton, etc., and much was destroyed to prevent our capturing it." on the thirteenth of july the president sent an autograph letter to general grant, of which the following is a copy: executive mansion, washington, _july th, _. to major general grant: my dear general--i do not remember that you and i ever met personally. i write this now as a grateful acknowledgment for the almost inestimable service you have done the country. i wish to say a word further. when you first reached the vicinity of vicksburg i thought you should do what you finally did--march the troops across the neck, run the batteries with the transports, and thus go below; and i never had any faith, except a general hope that you knew better than i, that the yazoo pass expedition and the like could succeed. when you got below and took port gipson, grand gulf and vicinity, i thought you should go down the river and join banks; and when you turned northward, east of the big black, i feared it was a mistake. i now wish to make a personal acknowledgment that you were right and i was wrong. yours, very truly, a. lincoln. it is stated on good authority that at the time the news of grant's success reached the president, there were several gentlemen present some of whom had just been informing mr. lincoln that there were great complaints against general grant with regard to his intemperate habits. after reading the telegram announcing the fall of vicksburg, the president turned to his anxious friends of the temperance question and said: "so i understand grant drinks whiskey to excess?" "yes," was the reply. "what whiskey does he drink?" "what whiskey?" doubtfully queried his hearers. "yes. is it bourbon or monongahela?" "why do you ask, mr. president?" "because if it makes him win victories like that at vicksburg, i will send a demijohn of the same kind to every general in the army." it is also stated on the same authority that general grant is strictly temperate. his men are almost as much attached to him as are the army of the potomac to general mcclellan. he is a true soldier, and shares all the hardships with his men, sleeping on the ground in the open air, and eating hard bread and salt pork with as good a grace as any private soldier. he seldom wears a sword, except when absolutely necessary, and frequently wears a semi-military coat and low crowned hat. the mistakes which people used to make, when coming to headquarters to see the general, often reminded me of a genuine anecdote which is told of general richardson, or "fighting dick," as we familiarly called him. it occurred when the troops were encamped near washington, and was as follows: the general was sauntering along toward a fort, which was in course of erection not far from headquarters, dressed in his usual uniform for fatigue, namely: citizen's pants, undress coat, and an old straw hat which had once been white, but was now two or three shades nearer the general's own complexion. along came one of those dashing city staff officers, in white gloves, and trimmed off with gold lace to the very extreme of military regulations. he was in search of general richardson, but did not know him personally. reining up his horse some little distance from the general, he shouted: "hallo, old fellow! can you tell me where general richardson's headquarters are?" the general pointed out the tent to him, and the young officer went dashing along, without ever saying "thank you." the general then turned on his heel and went back to his tent, where he found the officer making a fuss because there was no orderly to hold his horse. turning to general r., as he came up, he said: "won't you hold my horse while i find general r.?" "oh yes, certainly," said he. after hitching the horse to a post near by for that purpose, the general walked into the tent, and, confronting young pomposity, he said in his peculiar twang, "well, sir, what will you have?" when the federal troops marched into vicksburg, what a heart-sickening sight it presented; the half-famished inhabitants had crawled from their dens and caves in the earth, to find their houses demolished by shell, and all their pleasant places laid waste. but the appearance of the soldiers as they came from the entrenchments covered with mud and bespattered with the blood of their comrades who had been killed or wounded, would have touched a heart of stone. the poor horses, and mules, too, were a sad sight, for they had fared even worse than the soldiers--for there was no place of safety for them--not even entrenchments, and they had scarcely anything at all to eat for weeks, except mulberry leaves. one man, in speaking of the state of affairs in the city, during the siege, said: "the terror of the women and children, their constant screams and wailings over the dead bodies of their friends, mingled as they were with the shrieks of bursting shell, and the pitiful groans of the dying, was enough to appall the stoutest heart." and others said it was a strange fact that the women could not venture out of their caves a moment without either being killed or wounded, while the men and officers walked or rode about with but little loss of life comparatively. a lady says: "sitting in my cave, one evening, i heard the most heart-rending shrieks and groans, and upon making inquiry, i was told that a mother had taken her child into a cave about a hundred yards from us, and having laid it on its little bed, as the poor woman thought, in safety, she took her seat near the entrance of the cave. a mortar-shell came rushing through the air, and fell upon the cave, and bursting in the ground entered the cave; a fragment of the shell mashed the head of the little sleeper, crushing out the young life, and leaving the distracted mother to pierce the heavens with her cries of agony." how blightingly the hand of war lay upon that once flourishing city! the closed and desolate houses, the gardens with open gates, and the poor, starving mules, standing amid the flowers, picking off every green leaf, to allay their hunger, presented a sad picture. i will give the following quotation as a specimen of cave life in vicksburg: "i was sitting near the entrance of my cave about five o'clock in the afternoon, when the bombardment commenced more furiously than usual, the shells falling thickly around us, causing vast columns of earth to fly upward, mingled with smoke. as usual, i was uncertain whether to remain within, or to run out. as the rocking and trembling of the earth was distinctly felt, and the explosions alarmingly near, i stood within the mouth of the cave ready to make my escape, should one chance to fall above our domicile. "in my anxiety i was startled by the shouts of the servants, and a most fearful jar and rocking of the earth, followed by a deafening explosion, such as i had never heard before. the cave filled instantly with smoke and dust. i stood there, with a tingling, prickling sensation in my head, hands and feet, and with confused brain. yet alive! was the first glad thought that came to me--child, servants, all here, and saved! "i stepped out and found a group of persons before my cave, looking anxiously for me, and lying all around were freshly-torn rose bushes, arborvitæ trees, large clods of earth, splinters, and pieces of plank. "a mortar-shell had struck the corner of the cave; fortunately, so near the brow of the hill, that it had gone obliquely into the earth, exploding as it went, breaking large masses from the side of the hill--tearing away the fence, the shrubbery and flowers--sweeping all like an avalanche down near the entrance of my poor refuge. "on another occasion i sat reading in safety, i imagined, when the unmistakable whirring of parrott shells told us that the battery we so much dreaded had opened from the entrenchments. i ran to the entrance to call the servants in. immediately after they entered a shell struck the earth a few feet from the entrance, burying itself without exploding. "a man came in, much frightened, and asked permission to remain until the danger was over. he had been there but a short time when a parrott shell came whirling in at the entrance and fell in the center of the cave before us, and lay there, the fuse still smoking. "our eyes were fastened upon that terrible missile of death as by the fascination of a serpent, while we expected every moment that the terrific explosion would take place. i pressed my child closer to my heart and drew nearer the wall. our fate seemed certain--our doom was sealed. "just at this dreadful moment, george, a negro boy, rushed forward, seized the shell, and threw it into the street, then ran swiftly in the opposite direction. "fortunately the fuse became extinguished and the shell fell harmless to the ground, and is still looked upon as a monument of terror." chapter xxviii. western gibraltar--the "lead miners"--the palmetto exchanged for the stars and stripes--enthusiasm of troops--sufferings forgotten--i am attacked by fever--unfit for duty--"vicksburg is ours"--spirit yearnings--"rock me to sleep mother"--imposition of steamboat officers--grant's care for his men--bursting of a shell in camp--consequences--speechless agony--i am released from duty--my trip to cairo--miss mary safford--arrival at washington. it was a proud day for the union army when general u. s. grant marched his victorious troops into the rebel sebastopol--or "the western gibraltar," as the rebels were pleased to term it. the troops marched in triumphantly, the forty-fifth illinois, the "lead miners," leading the van, and as they halted in front of the fine white marble court house, and flung out the national banner to the breeze, and planted the battle-worn flags bearing the dear old stars and stripes--where the "palmetto" had so recently floated--then went up tremendous shouts of triumphant and enthusiastic cheers, which were caught up and re-echoed by the advancing troops until all was one wild scene of joy; and the devastated city and its miserable inhabitants were forgotten in the triumph of the hour. this excitement proved too much for me, as i had been suffering from fever for several days previous, and had risen from my cot and mounted my horse for the purpose of witnessing the crowning act of the campaign. now it was over, and i was exhausted and weak as a child. i was urged to go to a hospital, but refused; yet at length i was obliged to report myself unfit for duty, but still persisted in sitting up most of the time. oh what dreary days and nights i passed in that dilapidated city! a slow fever had fastened itself upon me, and in spite of all my fortitude and determination to shake it off, i was each day becoming more surely its victim. i could not bear the shouts of the men, or their songs of triumph which rung out upon every breeze--one of which i can never forget, as i heard it sung until my poor brain was distracted, and in my hours of delirium i kept repeating "vicksburg is ours," "vicksburg is ours," in a manner more amusing than musical. i will here quote a few verses which i think are the same: hark! borne upon the southern breeze, as whispers breathed above the trees, or as the swell from off the seas, in summer showers, fall softly on the ears of men strains sweetly indistinct, and then-- hist! listen! catch the sound again-- "vicksburg is ours!" o'er sea-waves beating on the shore, 'bove the thunder-storm and tempest o'er, o'er cataracts in headlong roar, high, high it towers. o'er all the breastworks and the moats, the starry flag in triumph floats, and heroes thunder from' their throats "vicksburg is ours!" spread all your banners in the sky, the sword of victory gleams on high, our conquering eagles upward fly, and kiss the stars; for liberty the gods awake, and hurl the shattered foes a wreck, the northern arms make strong to break the southern bars. all honor to the brave and true who fought the bloody battles through, and from the ramparts victory drew where vicksburg cowers; and o'er the trenches, o'er the slain, through iron hail and leaden rain, still plunging onward, might and main, made vicksburg ours. i think i realized, in those hours of feverish restlessness and pain, the heart-yearnings for the touch of a mother's cool hand upon my brow, which i had so often heard the poor sick and wounded soldiers speak of. oh how i longed for one gentle caress from her loving hand! and when i would sometimes fall into a quiet slumber, and forget my surroundings, i would often wake up and imagine my mother sat beside me, and would only realize my sad mistake when looking in the direction i supposed her to be, there would be seen some great bearded soldier, wrapped up in an overcoat, smoking his pipe. the following lines in some measure express my spirit-longings for the presence of my mother in those nights of torturing fever and days of languor and despondency: backward, turn backward, o time, in your flight; make me a child again, just for to-night! mother, o come from the far-distant shore, take me again to your heart as of yore; over my slumbers your loving watch keep-- rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. * * * * * backward, flow backward, o tide of the years! i am so weary of toils and of tears, toil without recompense--tears all in vain-- take them, and give me my childhood again. i have grown weary of warfare and strife, weary of bartering my health and my life, weary of sowing for others to reap-- rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. after the fall of vicksburg a large proportion of the soldiers in that vicinity, who had fought so bravely, endured so many hardships, and lain in the entrenchments so many weary weeks during the siege, were permitted to visit their homes on furlough. in view of this general grant issued a special order forbidding steamboat officers to charge more than five dollars to enlisted men, and seven dollars to officers, as fare between vicksburg and cairo. notwithstanding this order the captains of steamers were in the habit of charging from fifteen to thirty dollars apiece. on one occasion one of those steamers had on board an unusually large number of soldiers, said to be over one thousand enlisted men and nearly two hundred and fifty officers, _en route_ for home on leave of absence; and all had paid from twenty to twenty-five dollars each. but just as the boat was about to push off from the wharf an order came from general grant requiring the money to be refunded to men and officers over and above the stipulated sum mentioned in a previous order, or the captain to have his boat confiscated and submit himself to imprisonment for disobedience of orders. of course the captain handed over the money, and amid cheers for general grant, sarcastic smiles, and many amusing and insinuating speeches and doubtful compliments to the captain, the men pocketed the recovered "greenbacks," and went on their way rejoicing. when the general was told of the imposition practiced by the boatmen on his soldiers, he replied: "i will teach them, if they need the lesson, that the men who have periled their lives to open the mississippi for their benefit cannot be imposed upon with impunity." a noble trait in the character of this brave general is that he looks after the welfare of his men as one who has to give an account of his stewardship, or of those intrusted to his care. i remained in my tent for several days, not being able to walk about, or scarcely able to sit up. i was startled one day from my usual quietude by the bursting of a shell which had lain in front of my tent, and from which no danger was apprehended; yet it burst at a moment when a number of soldiers were gathered round it--and oh, what sad havoc it made of those cheerful, happy boys of a moment previous! two of them were killed instantly and four were wounded seriously, and the tent where i lay was cut in several places with fragments of shell, the tent poles knocked out of their places, and the tent filled with dust and smoke. [illustration: explosion of a shell--page .] one poor colored boy had one of his hands torn off at the wrist; and of all the wounded that i have ever seen i never heard such unearthly yells and unceasing lamentations as that boy poured forth night and day; ether and chloroform were alike unavailing in hushing the cries of the poor sufferer. at length the voice began to grow weaker, and soon afterwards ceased altogether; and upon making inquiry i found he had died groaning and crying until his voice was hushed in death. the mother and sister of one of the soldiers who was killed by the explosion of the shell arrived a short time after the accident occurred, and it was truly a most pitiful sight to see the speechless grief of those stricken ones as they sat beside the senseless clay of that beloved son and brother. all my soldierly qualities seemed to have fled, and i was again a poor, cowardly, nervous, whining woman; and as if to make up for lost time, and to give vent to my long pent up feelings, i could do nothing but weep hour after hour, until it would seem that my head was literally a fountain of tears and my heart one great burden of sorrow. all the horrid scenes that i had witnessed during the past two years seemed now before me with vivid distinctness, and i could think of nothing else. it was under these circumstances that i made up my mind to leave the army; and when once my mind is made up on any subject i am very apt to act at once upon that decision. so it was in this case. i sent for the surgeon and told him i was not able to remain longer--that i would certainly die if i did not leave immediately. the good old surgeon concurred in my opinion, and made out a certificate of disability, and i was forthwith released from further duty as "nurse and spy" in the federal army. the very next day i embarked for cairo, and on my arrival there i procured female attire, and laid aside forever (perhaps) my military uniform; but i had become so accustomed to it that i parted with it with much reluctance. while in cairo i had the pleasure of seeing the celebrated miss mary safford, of whom so much has been said and written. one writer gives the following account of her, which is correct with regard to personal appearance, and i have no doubt is correct throughout: "i cannot close this letter without a passing word in regard to one whose name is mentioned by thousands of our soldiers with gratitude and blessing. "miss mary safford is a resident of this town, whose life, since the beginning of this war, has been devoted to the amelioration of the soldier's lot and his comfort in the hospital. "she is a young lady, _petite_ in figure, unpretending, but highly cultivated, by no means officious, and so wholly unconscious of her excellencies and the great work that she is achieving, that i fear this public allusion to her may pain her modest nature. "her sweet young face, full of benevolence, her pleasant voice and winning manner, install her in every one's heart directly; and the more one sees of her the more they admire her great soul and noble nature. "not a day elapses but she is found in the hospitals, unless indeed she is absent on an errand of mercy up the tennessee, or to the hospitals in kentucky. "every sick and wounded soldier in cairo knows and loves her, and, as she enters the ward, every pale face brightens at her approach. as she passes along she inquires of each one how he had passed the night, if he is well supplied with books and tracts, and if there is anything she can do for him. all tell her their story frankly--the old man old enough to be her father, and the boy in his teens, all confide in her. "for one she must write a letter to his friend at home; she must sit down and read at the cot of another; must procure, if the surgeon will allow it, this or that article of food for a third; must soothe and encourage a fourth who desponds and is ready to give up his hold on life; must pray for a fifth who is afraid to die, and wrestle for him till light shines through the dark valley; and so on, varied as may be the personal or spiritual wants of the sufferers. "surgeons, nurses, medical directors, and army officers, are all her true friends, and so judicious and trustworthy is she, that the chicago sanitary commission have given her _carte blanche_ to draw on their stores at cairo for anything she may need in her errands of mercy in the hospitals. "she is performing a noble work, and that too in the most quiet and unassuming manner." from cairo i went to washington, where i spent several weeks, until i recovered from my fever and was able to endure the fatigue of traveling. then after visiting the hospitals once more, and bidding farewell to old scenes and associations, i returned to my friends to recruit my shattered health. chapter xxix. review of hospital and camp life--questions answered--behind the scenes--blessed employment--living past scenes over again--my most important labors--mother and son--strange power of sympathy--hero's repose--officers and men--the bravest are kindest--general sedgwick--battle scenes--mr. alvord's description--volunteer surgeons--heart sickening sights--an awful picture--female nurses--sentimental--patriotic--medical department--young surgeons--anecdotes. since i returned to new england there have been numerous questions asked me with regard to hospitals, camp life, etc., which have not been fully answered in the preceding narrative, and i have thought that perhaps it would not be out of place to devote a chapter to that particular object. one great question is: "do the soldiers get the clothing and delicacies which we send them--or is it true that the surgeons, officers and nurses appropriate them to their own use?" in reply to this question i dare not assert that all the things which are sent to the soldiers are faithfully distributed, and reach the individuals for whom they were intended. but i have no hesitation in saying that i have reason to believe that the cases are very rare where surgeons or nurses tamper with those articles sent for the comfort of the sick and wounded. if the ladies of the soldiers' aid societies and other benevolent organizations could have seen even the quantity which i have seen with my own eyes distributed, and the smile of gratitude with which those supplies are welcomed by the sufferers, they would think that they were amply rewarded for all their labor in preparing them. just let those benevolent hearted ladies imagine themselves in my place for a single day; removing blood-clotted and stiffened woollen garments from ghastly wounds, and after applying the sponge and water remedy, replacing those coarse, rough shirts by nice, cool, clean linen ones, then dress the wounds with those soft white bandages and lint; take from the express box sheet after sheet, and dainty little pillows with their snowy cases, until you have the entire hospital supplied and every cot looking clean and inviting to the weary, wounded men--then as they are carried and laid upon those comfortable beds, you will often see the tears of gratitude gush forth, and hear the earnest "god bless the benevolent ladies who send us these comforts." then, after the washing and clothing process is gone through with, the nice wine or boston crackers are brought forward, preserved fruits, wines, jellies, etc., and distributed as the different cases may require. i have spent whole days in this blessed employment without realizing weariness or fatigue, so completely absorbed would i become in my work, and so rejoiced in having those comforts provided for our brave, suffering soldiers. time and again, since i have been engaged in writing this little narrative, i have thrown down my pen, closed my eyes, and lived over again those hours which i spent in ministering to the wants of those noble men, and have longed to go back and engage in the same duties once more. i look back now upon my hospital labors as being the most important and interesting in my life's history. the many touching incidents which come to my mind as i recall those thrilling scenes make me feel as if i should never be satisfied until i had recorded them all, so that they might never be forgotten. one occurs to my mind now which i must not omit: "in one of the fierce engagements with the rebels near mechanicsville, a young lieutenant of a rhode island battery had his right foot so shattered by a fragment of shell that on reaching washington, after one of those horrible ambulance rides, and a journey of a week's duration, he was obliged to undergo amputation. "he telegraphed home, hundreds of miles away, that all was going on well, and with a soldier's fortitude composed his mind and determined to bear his sufferings alone. unknown to him, however, his mother--one of those dear reserves of the army--hastened up to join the main force. she reached the city at midnight, and hastened to the hospital, but her son being in such a critical condition, the nurses would have kept her from him until morning. one sat by his side fanning him as he slept, her hand on the feeble, fluctuating pulsations which foreboded sad results. but what woman's heart could resist the pleading of a mother at such a moment? in the darkness she was finally allowed to glide in and take the nurse's place at his side. she touched his pulse as the nurse had done. not a word had been spoken; but the sleeping boy opened his eyes and said: 'that feels like my mother's hand! who is this beside me? it is my mother; turn up the gas and let me see mother!' the two loving faces met in one long, joyful, sobbing embrace, and the fondness pent up in each heart wept forth its own language. "the gallant fellow underwent operation after operation, and at last, when death drew near, and he was told by tearful friends that it only remained to make him comfortable, he said he 'had looked death in the face too many times to be afraid now,' and died as gallantly as did the men of the cumberland." when a hero goes unto his last repose, when earth's trump of fame shall wake him no more; when in the heavenly land another soul doth stand, who perished for a nation ere he reached the shore; whose eyes should sorrow dim? say, who should mourn for him? mourn for the traitor--mourn when honor is forsworn; when the base wretch sells his land for gold, stands up unblushingly and boasts his perfidy, then, then, o patriots! let your grief be told but when god's soldier yieldeth up his breath, o mourn ye not for him! it is not death! another question is frequently asked me--"are not the private soldiers cruelly treated by the officers?" i never knew but a very few instances of it, and then it was invariably by mean, cowardly officers, who were not fit to be in command of so many mules. i have always noticed that the bravest and best fighting officers are the kindest and most forbearing toward their men. an interesting anecdote is told of the late brave general sedgwick, which illustrates this fact: "one day, while on a march, one of our best soldiers had fallen exhausted by fatigue and illness, and lay helpless in the road, when an officer came dashing along in evident haste to join his staff in advance. "it was pitiable to see the effort the poor boy made to drag his unwilling limbs out of the road. he struggled up only to sink back with a look that asked only the privilege of lying there undisturbed to die. "in an instant he found his head pillowed on an arm as gentle as his far-away mother's might have been, and a face bent over him expressive of the deepest pity. "it is characteristic of our brave boys that they say but little. the uncomplaining words of the soldier in this instance were few, but understood. "the officer raised him in his arms and placed him in his own saddle, supporting the limp and swaying figure by one firm arm, while with the other he curbed the step of his impatient horse to a gentler pace. "for two miles, without a gesture of impatience, he traveled in this tedious way, until he reached an ambulance train and placed the sick man in one of the ambulances. "this was our noble sedgwick--our brave general of the sixth corps--pressed with great anxieties and knowing the preciousness of every moment. his men used to say: 'we all know that great things are to be done, and well done, when we see that earnest figure in its rough blouse hurrying past, and never have we been disappointed in him. he works incessantly, is unostentatious, and when he appears among us all eyes follow him with outspoken blessings.'" i have often been asked: "have you ever been on a battle-field before the dead and wounded were removed?" "how did it appear?" "please describe one." i have been on many a battle-field, and have often tried to describe the horrible scenes which i there witnessed, but have never yet been able to find language to express half the horrors of such sights as i have seen on those terrible fields. the rev. mr. alvord has furnished us with a vivid description of a battle-field, which i will give for the benefit of those who wish a true and horrifying description of those bloody fields: "to-day i have witnessed more horrible scenes than ever before since i have been in the army. hundreds of wounded had lain since the battle, among rebels, intermingled with heaps of slain--hungering, thirsting, and with wounds inflaming and festering. many had died simply from want of care. their last battle was fought! almost every shattered limb required amputation, so putrid had the wounds become. "i was angry (i think without sin) at your volunteer surgeons. those of the army were too few, and almost exhausted. but squads of volunteers, as is usual, had come on without instruments, and without sense enough to set themselves at work in any way, and without any idea of dressing small wounds. they wanted to see amputation, and so, while hundreds were crying for help, i found five of these gentlemen sitting at their ease, with legs crossed, waiting for their expected reception by the medical director, who was, of course, up to his elbows in work with saw and amputating knife. i invited them to assist me in my labors among the suffering, but they had 'not come to nurse'--they were 'surgeons.' "the disgusting details of the field i need not describe. over miles of shattered forest and torn earth the dead lie, sometimes in _heaps_ and _winrows_--i mean literally! friend and foe, black and white, with distorted features, among mangled and dead horses, trampled in mud, and thrown in all conceivable sorts of places. you can distinctly hear, over the whole field, the hum and hissing of decomposition. of course you can imagine shattered muskets, bayonets, cartridge-boxes, caps, torn clothing, cannon-balls, fragments of shell, broken artillery, etc. i went over it all just before evening, and after a couple of hours turned away in sickening horror from the dreadful sight. i write in the midst of the dead, buried and unburied--in the midst of hospitals full of dying, suffering men, and weary, shattered regiments." this is a very mild illustration of some battle-fields, and yet it presents an awful picture. o god! this land grows rich in loyal blood poured out upon it to its utmost length! the incense of a people's sacrifice-- the wrested offering of a people's strength. it is the costliest land beneath the sun! 'tis purchaseless! and scarce a rood but hath its title written clear, and signed in some slain hero's consecrated blood. and not a flower that gems its mellowing soil but thriveth well beneath the holy dew of tears, that ease a nation's straining heart when the lord of battles smites it through and through. now a word about female nurses who go from the north to take care of the soldiers in hospitals. i have said but little upon this point, but could say much, as i have had ample opportunity for observation. many of the noble women who have gone from the new england and other loyal states have done, and are still doing, a work which will engrave their names upon the hearts of the soldiers, as the name of florence nightingale is engraved upon the hearts of her countrymen. it is a strange fact that the more highly cultivated and refined the ladies are, they make all the better nurses. they are sure to submit to inconvenience and privations with a much better grace than those of the lower classes. it is true we have some sentimental young ladies, who go down there and expect to find everything in drawing-room style, with nothing to do but sit and fan handsome young mustached heroes in shoulder-straps, and read poetry, etc.; and on finding the _real_ somewhat different from the _ideal_, which their ardent imaginations had created, they become homesick at once, and declare that they "cannot endure such work as washing private soldiers' dirty faces and combing tangled, matted hair; and, what is more, won't do it." so after making considerable fuss, and trailing round in very long silk skirts for several days, until everybody becomes disgusted, they are politely invited by the surgeon in charge to migrate to some more congenial atmosphere. but the patriotic, whole-souled, educated woman twists up her hair in a "cleared-for-action" sort of style, rolls up the sleeves of her plain cotton dress, and goes to work washing dirty faces, hands and feet, as if she knew just what to do and how to do it. and when she gets through with that part of the programme, she is just as willing to enter upon some new duty, whether it is writing letters for the boys or reading for them, administering medicine or helping to dress wounds. and everything is done so cheerfully that one would think it was really a pleasure instead of a disagreeable task. but the medical department is unquestionably the greatest institution in the whole army. i will not attempt to answer all the questions i have been asked concerning it, but will say that there are many true stories, and some false ones, circulated with regard to that indispensable fraternity. i think i may freely say that there is a shadow of truth in that old story of "whiskey" and "incompetency" which we have so often heard applied to individuals in the medical department, who are intrusted with the treatment, and often the lives of our soldiers. there is a vast difference in surgeons; some are harsh and cruel--whether it is from habit or insensibility i am not prepared to say--but i know the men would face a rebel battery with less forebodings than they do some of our worthy surgeons. there is a class who seem to act upon the principle of "no smart no cure," if we may be allowed to judge from the manner in which they twitch off bandages and the scientific twists and jerks given to shattered limbs. others again are very gentle and tender with the men, and seem to study how to perform the necessary operations with the least possible pain to the patients. but the young surgeons, fresh from the dissecting room, when operating in conjunction with our old western practitioners, forcibly reminded me of the anecdote of the young collegian teaching his grandmother to suck an egg: "we make an incision at the apex and an aperture at the base; then making a vacuum with the tongue and palate, we suffer the contained matter to be protruded into the mouth by atmospheric pressure." "la! how strange!" said his grandmother; "in my day we just made a hole in each end, and then sucked it without half that trouble." i once saw a young surgeon amputate a limb, and i could think of nothing else than of a kennebec yankee whom i once saw carve a thanksgiving turkey; it was his first attempt at carving, and the way in which he disjointed those limbs i shall never forget. chapter xxx. closing incidents--professor lowe's balloon--fitz john porter's adventure--his upward flight--reconnoitering from a dangerous position--cool courage--enthusiastic greeting--an earnest inquirer--a baptism in the army--preaching by moonlight--a magnificent scene--a wedding in camp--gay times--a contrast--hospital in winchester--spirit of revenge--sable heroine--a white darkey--colored soldiers--conclusion. in looking back over the events of the two years which i spent in the army, i see so much worthy of record i scarcely know where to stop. a most thrilling incident occurs to my mind at this moment in connection with professor lowe and his balloon, which i must relate before closing. it took place while mcclellan's army was in front of yorktown. general fitz john porter having been in the habit of making frequent ascensions in company with professor lowe, learned to go aloft alone. one morning he stepped into the car and ordered the cable to be let out with all speed. we saw with surprise that the flurried assistants were sending up the great straining canvas with a single rope attached. the enormous bag was only partially inflated, and the loose folds opened and shut with a sharp report like that of a pistol. noisily, fitfully, the great yellow mass rose toward the sky, the basket rocking like a feather in the breeze. presently a sound came from overhead like the explosion of a shell--the cable had snapped asunder, and the balloon was adrift. all eyes were turned toward the receding car, where general porter sat in his ærial castle, being borne heavenward as fast as if on eagle wings, without the power either to check or guide his upward flight. the whole army was agitated by this unwonted occurrence, and the rebel army evidently partook in the general excitement. lowe's voice could be heard above the confusion and tumult shouting to the soaring hero--"open--the--valve! climb--to--the--netting--and--reach--the valve--rope!" "the valve--the valve!" repeated a multitude of voices, but all in vain, for it was impossible to make him hear. soon the signal corps began to operate, and at last the general was made to understand by signals when it was impossible to reach him by the human voice. he appeared directly over the edge of the car, and then clambered up the netting and reached for the cord, but he was so far above us then he looked no bigger than a great black spider. it was a weird spectacle--that frail, fading object floating in the azure sky, with the miniature boat swinging silently beneath, looking no bigger than a humming-bird's nest; and a hundred thousand brave hearts beneath beating with the wildest excitement and warmest sympathy, yet powerless to render the least assistance to their exalted brother-in-arms. "had the general been floating down the rapids of niagara he could not have been farther from human assistance." we at length saw him descend from the netting and reappear over the edge of the basket, and he seemed to be motioning to the breathless crowd below the story of his failure. soon after the balloon began slowly to descend, and when we next saw him it was with spyglass in hand, reconnoitering the rebel works. shouts of joy and laughter went up from the long lines of spectators as this cool procedure was observed. for a moment it seemed doubtful in which direction the balloon would float; it faltered like an irresolute being, and at length moved reluctantly toward fortress monroe. bursting cheers, half uttered, quivered on every lip. all eyes glistened, and many were dim with tears. but the wayward canvas now turned due west, and was blown rapidly toward the confederate works. its course was fitfully direct, and the wind seemed to veer often, as if contrary currents, conscious of the opportunity, were struggling for the possession of the daring navigator. the south wind held the mastery for awhile, and the balloon passed the federal front amid groans of despair from the soldiers. it kept right on, over sharpshooters, rifle-pits, etc., until it stood directly over the rebel fortifications at yorktown. the cool courage, either of heroism or despair, seemed to seize the general, for turning his tremendous glass upon the ramparts and masked batteries below, he viewed the remote camps, the beleaguered town, the guns of gloucester point, and distant norfolk. had he been reconnoitering from a secure perch on the top of the moon he could not have been more vigilant; and the confederates probably thought this some yankee device to peer into their sanctum in spite of ball or shell. none of their large guns could be brought to bear upon the balloon, but there were some discharges of musketry, which seemed to have no effect whatever, and finally even these demonstrations ceased. both armies were gazing aloft in breathless suspense, while the deliberate general continued to spy out the land. suddenly another change of position, and the air craft plunged and tacked about, and steered rapidly for the federal lines again. making a desperate effort to catch the valve-rope, the general at length succeeded, and giving it a jerk, the balloon came suddenly to the ground; fortunately, however, it struck a tent as it descended, which perhaps saved the general from any serious injuries from the fall. by the time the crowd had reached the spot, porter had disentangled himself from the folds of oiled canvas, and was ready to greet his anxious friends; and amid hearty congratulations and vociferous cheers, he was escorted to his quarters. as this chapter is devoted to incidents in camp, i will try to illustrate the variety of interesting events with which our camps abound. after one of the most severe battles ever fought in virginia, and while our troops were still rejoicing over their victory, a young soldier sought the chaplain for the purpose of religious conversation. said the chaplain: "the tears were in his eyes, and his lips trembled with emotion. i knew that he was in earnest. we knelt down together and i prayed with him, and he prayed for himself. in this manner we spent several hours, pleading with god in his behalf, until light broke through the darkness, and he arose from his knees praising god." wishing to manifest by some outward sign his consecration to god and to his service, he requested the chaplain to baptize him by immersion. the next day being the sabbath his request was complied with, in the presence of thousands of his comrades. the scene was a most solemn one, and after the ordinance was administered there was scarcely a dry eye in the company to which he belonged. in the evening one of the delegates of the christian commission preached to an immense congregation of grim warriors seated on the ground--a little pine grove for a church, the great blue dome of heaven for galleries, and the clear, bright moon for a chandelier. the scene was a magnificent one. a little to the right lay a cloud of white canvas tents shining in the moonlight, and just below, in plain sight, were the transports dotting the water, with their gleaming lights and star-spangled banners floating in the evening breeze. all combined to make the scene beautiful and interesting. the discourse was excellent and well chosen, and the men listened with profound attention, and i have no doubt with much profit. then was sung lord, dismiss us with thy blessing, and the benediction being pronounced, the vast assembly marched to their quarters as solemnly as if going from a funeral. next came a wedding! yes; a real wedding in camp. you must know that when military necessity prevents our young heroes from going home to fulfill their engagements to their devoted fair ones, it is the privilege of the waiting damsels, in war times, to remove all unnecessary obstacles, and facilitate matters by declaring themselves in favor of the _union_, and claiming their lovers on the field. this wedding was a grand affair, and took place in a camp which was very prettily decorated, being picturesquely arranged among pine trees--just the most romantic place imaginable for such an event. a little before noon the guests began to arrive in large numbers. among them were generals hooker, sickles, carr, mott, hobart, ward, revere, bartlett, birney, and berry. the troops, looking their very best, formed a hollow square, in the center of which a canopy was erected, and an altar formed of drums. as the generals marched into the square--general hooker leading the van--and grouped themselves on each side of the altar, the bands struck up "hail to the chief," and on the appearance of the bridal party the "wedding march" was played. the day was cold and windy, with a few snow-flakes interspersed, which made the ladies in attendance look very much like "blue noses"; but the blushing bride bore the cold and the admiring glances of the soldiers like a martyr, and retained her dignity and self-possession throughout the ceremony worthy of a heroine, as she was. to add to the dramatic effect of the scene, a line of battle was formed by the remaining troops in that section, a short distance from camp, to repel an expected attack of the enemy. the ceremony having been performed, dinner was announced, and all partook of the good things provided for the occasion. after dinner, came numerous toasts, speeches, songs, and music from the bands, and, to close up the day in good style, a regular military ball was held, and fireworks exhibited in the evening--"and on the whole," a newspaper correspondent says, "it entirely eclipsed an opera at the academy of music." i have before alluded to the vindictive spirit manifested by the women of virginia toward our soldiers. i will illustrate this fact by an incident which took place in one of the hospitals just after a severe battle. many wounded soldiers, both union and confederate, were brought into the town of winchester, and placed in the churches and court-house side by side. the ladies (beg pardon, ladies, i mean females) of that place brought into the hospital many things to nourish and tempt the appetites of the sufferers, but they gave all these delicacies to the confederate soldiers: our men were passed by as unworthy of notice or sympathy. one day a lady, who had been a constant visitor, brought in a supply of fragrant tea. she went from one cot to another of her friends, but had no eye or heart of pity for others. one of our wounded men, who lay near his end, longed for a cup of this tea as he saw it handed to those around him, and requested the chaplain, who stood by his side, to ask the lady for a little of the tea. he did so in a very polite manner, at the same time telling her how ill the man was, and that it was the soldier himself who wished him to make the request. "no," said she, and her face flushed with anger; "not a drop of it; this tea is all for our suffering martyrs." the chaplain replied: "madam, i looked for no other answer. i beg pardon for having seemed for a moment to expect a different one." a few moments afterwards, as the poor disappointed man lay there seeing the delicious tea passed on all sides of him and could not procure a drop of it, an old lame negro woman came limping up the aisle with a large basket on each arm. coming up to where the chaplain stood, she laid down the baskets and addressed him thus: "massa, i'se a slave--my husban' and chil'en is slaves. will you 'cept dese tings for de poor men?" then taking up a roll of stockings, she said: "dem i knit wid my own hands for de soldiers, when all sleep, in my cabin. we know'd dis war was comin' long 'fore you yankees did. we see it 'proaching, an' we began to prepare for it." then taking packages of tea, cans of fruit, pears and peaches, lint, linen for bandages, and pocket-handkerchiefs, she said: "massa, permit me to give you dese for de poor men. i have not stole 'em. my own hands have earned 'em over de washtub. i wish to do something for de union soldiers, lord bless 'em!" "as she talked," says the chaplain, "she grew more earnest, and looking around on the mutilated men the tears rolled down her black face, and fell on her hands, as she lifted the treasures out of the baskets and handed them to me." our sick men looked with wonder and admiration on the old colored woman, and soon a hundred voices cried out "god bless you, aunty! you are the only white woman we have seen since we came to winchester." some people assert that colored people have no souls. which, think you, acted most as if lacking soul--the black or the white woman in the hospital at winchester? the devotion of the negro woman, as manifested in the hospital, is a perfect sample of the devotion of the contrabands, male and female, to the union cause. and now that the time has come when the colored men are permitted, by the laws of the land, to assume the privileges of rational beings, and to go forth as american soldiers to meet their cruel oppressors on the bloody field, there is evidently as great, if not greater, enthusiasm and true patriotism manifested by them, as by any troops in the united states army. and still further--it has been proved satisfactorily within the last twelve months that the colored troops endure fatigue as cheerfully and fight as well (and get less pay) as any of the white troops. thank god, this is one great point gained for the poor down-trodden descendants of africa. i imagine i see them, with their great shiny eyes and grinning faces, as they march to the field, singing-- oh! we're de bully soldiers of de "first of arkansas," we are fightin' for de union, we are fightin' for de law, we can hit a rebel furder dan a white man eber saw, as we go marchin' on: glory, glory, hallelujah, etc. see dar! above de center, where de flag is wavin' bright; we are goin' out of slavery; we are bound for freedom's light; we mean to show jeff. davis how de africans can fight! glory, glory, hallelujah, glory, glory, hallelujah, glory, glory, hallelujah, as we go marching on. and now, what shall i say in conclusion? the war still continues--our soldiers are daily falling in battle, and thousands are languishing in hospitals or in southern prisons; and i for months past have not given even a cup of cold water to the sufferers. i am ashamed to acknowledge it! but when i look around and see the streets crowded with strong, healthy young men who ought to be foremost in the ranks of their country's defenders, i am not only ashamed, but i am indignant! to prove to my friends that i am not ambitious of gaining the reputation of that venerable general (halleck) whose "pen is mightier than his sword," i am about to return to the army to offer my services in any capacity which will best promote the interests of the federal cause--no matter how perilous the position may be. and now i lay aside my pen, hoping that after "this cruel war is over," and peace shall have once more shed her sweet influence over our land, i may be permitted to resume it again to record the annihilation of rebellion, and the final triumph of truth, right, and _liberty_. o lord of peace, who art lord of righteousness, constrain the anguished worlds from sin and grief, pierce them with conscience, purge them with redress, and give us peace which is no counterfeit! transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). trackers of the fog pack or jack ralston flying blind by ambrose newcomb author of the sky detectives eagles of the sky wings over the rockies sky pilots' great chase new york the goldsmith publishing co. publishers copyright the goldsmith publishing co. made in u. s. a. contents _chapter_ _page_ i perk sighs for action ii he gets his wish iii echoes of the past iv by special delivery v the cat is out of the bag vi laying plans vii ready for anything viii the winged messenger ix headed for trouble x battling with the fog xi the mystery airship xii when the dawn broke xiii all thanks to simeon xiv closing the gap xv a clever landing xvi up against a silver-tip xvii perk shows his hand xviii the circling buzzards xix taking great chances xx on the encircling cliff xxi all on a diet xxii the man with the cook's cap xxiii perk carries on xxiv in the tom sawyer cavern xxv squatters' rights xxvi a back door to the valley xxvii pike's peak, or----bust! xxviii invading the tigers' lair xxix all ready for the grand blowout xxx the end of robbers' roost----conclusion trackers of the fog pack chapter i perk sighs for action san diego, in sunny southern california, was looking its prettiest, with balmy breezes blowing softly; cloudless blue skies overhead; the usual throngs on the streets, and a general atmosphere of contentment resting over the entire place. already tourist pilgrims were beginning their annual migration from the cold lands of the north and northeast, seeking the more congenial climate along the picturesque coast, where flowers bloomed throughout every month of the year; and outdoor sports of all descriptions tempted those inclined that way to participate. but, just the same, there appeared to be _one_ individual sauntering along main street, in a certain san diego suburb, who did not seem to share in the general joyous spirit--this grumbler amidst such perfect surroundings was really an old friend of the reader, no other than gabe perkiser, familiarly known among his fellows of the flying fields by the shorter name of "perk." at his side stalked his bosom pal, jack ralston, in whose company latterly the said perk had participated in a number of thrilling flying stunts, all of which have been narrated in the earlier books of this series of aviation stories. those who have enjoyed a previous recital of their adventures in the precarious vocation they followed, as policemen of the skies, need no further introduction to the pair of cronies. for the benefit of new readers, less fortunate, it may be said right here, before embarking on the latest and most thrilling of their recent exploits, that jack and perk were trusted members of uncle sam's wide-flung secret service organization; and on account of their clever and conscientious work, often entrusted with some of the most dangerous and difficult missions engaging the attention of the high "muck-a-muck" (perk's definition) authorities at washington headquarters. "what puts you in the dumps so, perk?" jack was asking, after noticing for the tenth time what a frown had settled on his chum's usually smiling phiz. "dinner knocking harder than customary; or did you get a letter from your best girl, breaking off the engagement? strikes me you're fast becoming a chronic crêpe-hanger these days." "that's all hot air--boloney i'd call it, as yeou know right well, jack!" perk flung back. "chow was all to the good--ain't got nary a best gal, an' never did have, neither--they're all rank pizen to me. guess again, mister." "then what _does_ ail you, boy--something gone wrong with your plans--can i do anything to ease the strain? i'd go a long way to get you out of that black look, partner; you're worrying me a heap i allow." the other stopped short on main street's pavement, and looked his companion straight in the face, actually smiling a bit in the bargain. "yeou _would_ do jest that, ole pal, wouldn't yeou? i know i'm a tarnel fool to get stewed like this," he burst out; "an' orter be ashamed--i'm meanin' to kick outen it right away. fact is, it's the same ole story, jack--i'm gettin' fed up by things goin' too smooth. guess it's in the blood--my yankee ancestors they was all men o' action, doers o' things that called fur courage an' double risk. they set their seal on me, seems like; fur ever since i was a kid i've been on the hunt fur adventure by land an' sea; yeah, an' o' late years, in the air besides. that's all i gotter say; but blood'll tell ev'ry time." "well," remarked jack, looking much relieved it could be seen. "i more than half suspected this, perk; but cheer up--the longest lane must have its turning. meanwhile we're getting our regular pay from our uncle samuel, remember!" "but not earnin' a red cent, jest the same, which is what upsets me most," continued the complaining one. "makes me feel like i'm sorter pensioned off, an' ain't worth the snap o' my fingers to the service. huh!" "nonsense, boy, that's a silly way of looking at things. we're just resting up after that difficult job we pulled off, with the help of the mounted police, far away up in northwest canada.[ ] that successful flight, and arrest, earned us a vacation, our superiors believe; which i for one have enjoyed immensely. now i'm feeling fine, and fit for the next commission the big boss decides to hand out to us." "hot-diggetty-dig! then i sure hopes it drifts this way right quick," perk eagerly observed. "i kinder guess them racketeers an' their crowd o' bootleggers must a got things mighty near sewed up, when the department lets us loaf away our time out here on the gold coast. if it keeps on we'll be apt to forget heow to handle a ship, an' get air shy--neow _wouldn't_ that same be a tough joke on us poor guys?" "little danger of such a thing coming to pass, perk--it's a whole bit like swimming--once you learn how to keep afloat it's good for a life-time." "mebbe so, jack--i got a hunch it's the same way with ridin' a bike used to be--first few days yeou felt stiff in all yeour joints, ev'rything out o' kelter; but when a chump got used to guidin' the skittish wheel along it came as easy as fallin' off a log. honest injun, neow, jack, ain't yeou any idea when we're apt to grab an order to get goin' again?" "any old day i'm looking for the same, perk." "gosh! that don't strike me as givin' much encouragement, partner," perk told his mate, aggrievedly. "i wrote in ten days ago," jack went on to say, quietly, "to say our ship was in first-class condition, while we were on deck, waiting for orders." "bully for yeou!" snapped perk, brightening up visibly, as though, like a war horse at the scent of burnt powder making his nostrils quiver with anticipation. "i'm right neow yearnin' to set eyes on a different landscape than sleepy ol' san diego, an' slow towns borderin' on the same." perk only stated a truth when he referred to his adventurous life. he was considerably older than his running mate, having been over in france when only eighteen years of age, handling a sausage balloon on the fighting line, and running into numerous close corners, having been shot down at least twice. after the war was over he came home, and started learning the ropes of the new craze--flying; becoming a very good pilot in time, though a bit reckless, it must be admitted. then he drifted into the lumber camps, and played logger for a few seasons. after that perk, who was proud of having a strain of canadian blood along with his yankee heritage, turned up among the mounties in the far northwest regions and spent some years doing service with those dashing officers enforcing the law of the wilderness. meeting up with jack ralston--after being coaxed to throw his fortunes in with the secret service at washington, he took a strong liking for the bright-witted youngster, and they had been boon comrades ever since, sharing their blankets, meeting all manner of peril in company, and becoming what might be called real "blood brothers." so, too, had jack been through some interesting experiences, although not of the same thrilling character as those perk could look back to, when musing of the past. he had had a run of circus training, being a natural athlete; and on the bills had been advertised as a famous trapeze performer. then naturally the lure of the air gripped jack, and forsaking the sawdust ring he began making parachute drops with one of those barnstorming aviators possessing a dilapidated crate with which he was wont to give exhibitions at harvest home festivals, and county fairs all over the west--just as lindbergh did in his school days. it was in this fashion that young ralston learned to be a clever pilot; and possibly his skill at the controls was one leading factor bringing about an earnest invitation for him to join up with the secret service--about that time it became evident that a new branch of the law organization must be built up, in order to compete with the lawless smuggling gangs that were already using airplanes with which to fetch contraband of every description into the country. so well did the pair co-operate that they worked as two parts of the whole machine--as one hand knows what the other hand requires to make a finished product so their brains often worked in unison, thus adding additional strength to their united efforts. as they continued their walk, meaning to return to the city in time for lunch, perk continued to ramble on with observations covering much ground; for he had a decided opinion on every variety of subject, and could be depended on to exploit his ideas at the slightest invitation. "no use talkin,' jack," he was saying, as he tapped his pocket significantly, "that same jerry slocum's a crackin' good locksmith an' gunsmith. i took up with his offer, yeou know, to put my ol' six-shooter, used in france with my work in the sausage balloon corps, in apple-pie condition; an' he done a smart job. he happened to have some ammunition to fit the gun, so i laid in a bunch o' cartridges, meanin' to shoot at a target when time hung heavy on my hands. but listen, will yeou, ol' pard, what's all that whoopin' mean 'round the corner jest ahead--sounds like a reg'lar _stampede_ was takin' place, i'd say if yeou asked me?" ----- footnote : see "_sky pilots' great chase_." chapter ii he gets his wish "some excitement, i own up, perk," agreed jack, exchanging a look of inquiry with his companion. "dog fight, like as not, since i thought i heard a yowling just then, as if one mutt'd got his in the neck." "jest hear the people a shoutin' will yeou?" snapped perk. "but that doesn't sound like they were enjoying themselves a heap, i'd say, boy--such screaming and yelling--they're badly rattled over whatever's going on. what could it all mean, i wonder?" "hot-diggetty-dig! we'll know right soon, ole hoss; 'cause it's headin' this way--gettin' a heap louder ev'ry second, i vow! guess yeou struck it right when yeou sez they must be skeered into a near panic. don't hear no guns agoin' off, so it cain't be a brawl 'tween drunken bootleggers an' town constables. well, i swan, it gets me--look at the folks a beatin' it to the houses, like they reckoned they'd be safer there. mebbe we better shin up a telegraph pole like that youngster's a doin' over yonder--he means to git high an' dry, so's to see the circus, but not take chances with the runaway animal's flyin' heels. wow! what's this i lamp a comin' 'reound that corner, waggin' his ole head from side to side--a big yeller _dog_, jack, with foam a drippin' from his open red mouth! great guns!" "that beast is as mad as a hatter!" boomed jack, thrilled by the frightful sight. "he's bound to own the whole street, no matter if a battalion of cops try to sheer him off!" "mebbe, mate," perk was shouting "we'd better be steppin' to one side in a hurry; i ain't lost nary dog; an' i'm not fool enough to want to stand up 'fore one that's rabid--not gabe perkiser! get a move on, jack, an' vamose!" "wait up!" cried the other, for so great was the clamor no one could expect to be heard unless he fairly shouted. "excuse me, boy--i got a date!" perk bellowed back, grinning as he spoke. "look ahead, perk--that child--little boy he is--fell down in his fright, and must've sprained his ankle--see him try to scramble up again; but he can't manage it, what with his fright and twisted ankle. the dog--it's making straight for the youngster--we can't stand by, and see him tackle such a mere baby--we've just _got_ to do something, perk!" "sure do, partner--let's go!" others were running in every direction save toward the great ugly beast, thinking in their panicky state of nerves only of their own safety. all the while the shouts continued to go booming along the length of main street: "mad dog! mad dog! everybody run--get the children indoors! he's rabid and ready to snap at anybody in his way! run for it!" but the poor little baby directly in the path of the oncoming demon could not heed the shouts--vainly he tried to crawl to one side, his terrified eyes fixed on that dreadful vision of fury and rabies confronting him, and drawing closer with every passing second. jack and perk were galloping forward with all their might, intending to throw themselves between the child and that stumbling terror with the lolling head and dripping jaws. it could be seen that perk was gripped by a sudden inspiration--he had dragged some sort of object from his pocket, and was working feverishly with the same. jack understood, and inwardly blessed the lucky chance that had caused his pal to fetch his old war weapon out to his friend the town gunsmith, so as to have it put in first-class condition. it must have been the hand of a kind fate that brought about this wonderful coincidence, jack was telling himself, when guessing that the running airman must be trying with all his cleverness to insert a cartridge or two into the chambers of the small, antiquated six-shooter. fortune favored them, for they were enabled to pass beyond the writhing and shrieking child, thus facing the danger themselves as a shield to buck up against the charge of the mad dog. perk dropped down on one knee--it was the natural position for one to assume under such conditions, bringing him more on a level with the beast. jack, too, knew he had a part in the scheme to save the tiny lad--lacking a weapon of any kind he could not stand by perk; but one thing was left to him, which was to snatch up the imperiled child, and leap to safety before the crisis crashed upon them. even as he was thus bearing the lad out of the danger zone, he caught a sudden explosion that told him perk had sent in a shot. it was his bosom pal crouched back there with that shaggy beast almost upon him; for he knew full well perk had waited until he could make doubly certain of his aim. somehow jack could not keep from turning his head, so as to know the worst--he had a cold feeling in the region of his heart, undoubtedly fearing he would discover perk engaged in a furious struggle at close quarters with the animal, one bite from whose jaws would contaminate the flesh his cruel fangs thus mangled. but that fear was instantly put to flight--perk still knelt there, while the furious beast writhed on the ground, making frightful efforts to get up on its four feet again. this he no sooner succeeded in doing than perk let him have a second leaden pill, working his keepsake weapon of the great war with mechanical precision. how lucky then he must have succeeded in thrusting _two_ cartridges into the maw of his gun, since there proved to be such great need of an _encore_. it was "all over but the shouting," as perk himself would have put it. he rose to his feet, and coolly stepped forward, to bend over and see that there no longer remained a single breath in the carcase of the terrible brute he had stayed in his mad passage through the town. the tenor of the wild shouts changed like magic--joy and triumph, not to say relief, began to be heard, as if reassuring the frightened populace there was no longer anything to be feared--the ogre jabberwock had been laid low, and once again the length of main street could be traversed without peril to life and limb. and the one who had performed this valorous deed seemed only anxious to make himself scarce before the worshiping citizens could lay hands on him--shower him with thanks, perhaps _kisses_ as well from the gentler sex, who knew a hero in the flesh as well as on the hollywood screen. jack was trying the best he knew how to allay the terror of the child he still held in his arms, speaking to him with assurance in his tones, and squeezing the white-faced little chap close to his heart. "it's all right, buddy," he kept saying, with a comforting smile on his face, that was bound to stop the trembling sobs of the other, if anything could. "the ugly dog can't hurt you, for he's been killed, and can never bite anybody. you must have hurt your ankle, little brother; i'm going to carry you to where you live, so they can take care of you, and get the kind doctor to take the pain away. put your arms around my neck, and i'll be able to hold you better--that's the way, kiddie; you know i'm a good friend of yours, don't you?" the crowd was all around them by this time, milling so as to get as close as possible--it reminded jack of cattle being rounded up by expert punchers, so as to be shipped to market, or it might be, branded. "stand back, please, and give us air!" jack called out, to add: "perk, see that they don't crowd in any further. i'm not going to be satisfied until i've seen this little lad safe in his home. who knows where he lives?" there were a dozen voices raised in explanations; but jack lifted a hand to stop the confused racket. "hold up on that!" he told them, sharply; "i want just one person to tell me--here, you boy, you seem to know him okay--tell me his name, will you, and where he lives--nobody else break in now, get that? go on, george, speak up!" "my name's jimmy--his'n is laddy boy--he lives with his granny mrs. fergussan right 'round that next corner, in a little shack." "fine for you jimmy--lead us to it; and please everybody stop pushing--that shouting must be dropped, or you'll have the old lady frightened half to death before we get there. now start along, jimmy--you're a good pal to tie to, i'll say." so they made a start, with scores following after them, all talking; but in more subdued tones. possibly they realized that this young chap with the capable look, and firm voice, was one accustomed to having his orders obeyed without any questions being asked, and that he would brook no interference. as they turned into the side street the young pilot hastened to point in the direction of a small old, but respectable looking cottage of some three rooms, that was surrounded by masses of flowers in full bloom. jack could see the door of the small house was wide open, and that an elderly woman stood there, shading her eyes with a hand, as she watched the approach of the crowd. undoubtedly she must have heard what had been so loudly shouted, when the mad dog was causing such a panic on main street--she may even have started toward the nearby corner, with a great fear tugging at her heart, knowing her laddie boy was going about on the little errand she had entrusted to him; but if so fear had driven her back to the home, where she could slam the door shut in case personal peril threatened her. seeing jack in the lead of the procession, carrying some object in his arms, she came flying down to meet him, looking aghast. "don't be so alarmed mrs. ferguson," jack said, sympathizing with her new fears; "he wasn't bitten by the dog; but had the bad luck to sprain his ankle. it's nothing serious, i'm telling you straight--lead the way, and i'll put him on a bed, when you can send for the doctor to look him over; but don't worry--he's safe enough, i promise you." presently jack joined his partner. "let's go, matey," perk hastened to say, uneasily, as though he feared those admiring good folks outside were actually conspiring to pick him up on their shoulders, and march around town with the hero of the mad dog scare; something like that, but to which he was very must averse. "wait a few minutes," jack told his nervous comrade, "i promised the old lady i'd stay out here until the doctor had looked the child over; she wants to get the story out of us, i imagine, guessing something queer must have happened, from the way those folks kept pawing at us." perk drew a long breath, and muttered something under his breath that sounded like "drat the tough luck;" but he did settle down on a chair, and amused himself looking around the room, on the walls of which were a number of cheap pictures, also several portraits. "come over here, perk," jack was saying, as he stood in front of the picture of a man, "here's a queer happening--look at that face--have you ever seen it before?" chapter iii echoes of the past looking rather surprised, as well as duly curious after his nature, perk accordingly stepped blithely up, took one good stare, and immediately burst out with his characteristic and pet "swear-word" phrase: "hot-diggetty-dig! hard to b'lieve my eyes, for a fact, partner--course i seen that phiz afore neow, an' same stirs up some mighty warm session we passed through a while back." "then you say it's a portrait of slim garrabrant?" asked jack, in a lower key, and with a quick glance toward the connecting door that was a bit ajar it happened. "none other, buddy--the slickest flim-flam artist that ever fooled the banks of every state west o' the mississip--fair good job that crayon artist made o' his work--mebbe copied from a reg'lar photo. ain't this this the limit though--to think o' runnin' acrost _his_ mug out here clost to san diego. huh! i allers heard the world seemed mighty small sometimes, an neow i b'lieves it." jack put a finger up to his lips warningly. "softly, perk. that old lady must be some close connection of slim's, i'd say; it may be his own mother--yes, the fact of finding his picture hanging on this wall in an honored place makes that plain; she evidently doesn't know what a rogue her boy is--they must have kept things from reaching her ears after we gobbled him up, and he was sent to leavenworth--or was it atlanta?" "yeou got me there, 'cause i never did know," observed perk, taking yet another look at the face within the gold frame. "aint sech a tough looker as we know he is, eh, ole pal?" "yes, that's a fact; but then this was evidently taken years ago, most likely, before he became so hardened. i wonder--" "what neow, jack?" "that handsome little boy must be some relative of slim's," said jack, on a hazard; "if he was old enough i'd begin to believe the kid was his own child--they call her grandmammy ferguson, remember--yes, that would square things i'd reckon, perk." "aint it won-der-ful?" the other was saying, half to himself apparently; "jest to think o' us arunnin' smack into somebody connected with the man we was responsible for sendin' to the pen years ago. 'bout one chanct in a million sech a thing could happen; but it shore has." jack also showed that he was feeling about the same as his comrade; indeed it was one of the queerest episodes he had ever met up with. "if that turns out to be a fact," he went on to comment, "i imagine garrabarnt behind the bars would give considerable for a glimpse of that kid's sweet face." "i wouldn't blame him any at that, jack. how 'bout the kid--dye kinder guess he'll have a bad time with that leg?" "the doctor will be able to say after he's had a lookover," came the confident answer. "my opinion is it'll prove to be a simple sprain, and if such is the case the child will only have to keep quiet for a spell. there's a car stopping at the gate, and the man getting out has the look of a professional--yes, he's carrying a little satchel in the bargain, so it must be the doctor she sent after." this proved to be the case, for the young man spoke to them on entering, and seemed very agreeable. "what's happened here?" he asked, as though his hasty summons, and the sight of that excited crowd outside, had aroused his curiosity greatly. jack thought the doctor should be told what necessity there was for his services; as such knowledge would prepare him for what must follow. accordingly he very briefly explained, making light of what connection he and perk had with the matter. thus forewarned the doctor smiled his thanks, and hastened to pass into the room where the old lady and the child were located. some little time afterwards the doctor came out again. perk could see from the look on his face it was not so very serious, nor was he mistaken in his diagnosis. "a simple sprain, just as you suspected," the physician assured them; "and he'll be running around again inside of five days." he shook hands with them very earnestly, which fact caused perk to remark, after the doctor had passed out of the door: "huh! it's mighty plain to be seen, jack, he's smart enough to smell a rat--the grip he gimme said as he kinder guessed _we_ had a finger in the pie. look for yeourself, partner--he's talkin' to some o' the folks out there, an' i jest bet yeou they're a makin' out we done somethin' grand. rats! why caint a gink do a simple thing like we done without people wantin' to gush over him? makes me fair sick to see so much o' the stuff wasted. do we get a move on right away, mate?" "better wait up a bit until he starts back to his office," suggested jack, also peeping out of the window. "yeou said it, jack--if we stepped eout right neow it'd look like we wanted 'em to give us a cheer--as for me i'd be glad if we could slip away by the back door, an' give 'em the laugh. there, he's gettin' into his car, an' the coast's clear." jack stepped into the other room to say goodbye to the old lady--for she did seem to be of a higher class than one would think from the humble cottage she called home--truth to tell jack wished to have another look at that bright-faced little lad, whom he was apt to remember for a long time. the boy had come-to, and shook hands at jack's request, also gave him a sweet smile. "if he owes either of us any thanks," jack told granny, as he turned to leave, "it should go to my chum; who chanced to have a gun in his pocket, having had it cleaned and repaired at a shop here--he threw himself between the ugly dog and the child, and shot the mad brute dead. the lad wasn't touched, i assure you, madam." "thank him for me a thousand times, please, young man--it was a brave act, and his mother surely has cause to be grateful for having such a son. come and see us sometime later on; both of us will be very glad to have you drop in." jack hurried out, with a strange thought racing through his brain; he could not help wondering what that fine elderly woman would think if only she knew how the two young men thus befriending her grandson (who must have been so precious to her heart) had been the chief instrument in shape of the outraged law to run down and send her son-in-law slim garrabarnt, up to the penitentiary for a long term of years, as a much wanted criminal. it was hardly a pleasant thought, but nothing to be ashamed of, since he merely represented the government in all he had done, and could not be blamed any more than the judge who dealt out the grim sentence. perk was eager to be gone, and led the way outside. they pushed a passage through the still jabbering crowd, and walked off, followed by admiring looks from those gathered there. on the way back to the city perk seemed to be wrapped in his own thoughts much of the time, which was such an unusual occurrence that jack marveled to take note of his silence. "still o' the opinion the kid might be his'n?" perk asked his companion, as they finally drew near the location of the building in which they had a furnished room. "feel pretty sure of it," he was told, without the slightest hesitation. "i explained to the old lady that it was you who kept the dog from contact with the child, and she asked me to thank you with all her heart." "shucks! why did yeou ever mention sech a thing, pal jack? 'twan't nawthin' 'tall--jest a soft snap for a chap what was yearnin' for action. but it gives me a queer thrill to know heow we run up agin _his_ folks--'bout a hundred-an'-thirty million people in this here country, an' to think we'd pick 'em aout o' all that mob--it sure has got me buffaloed for keeps." as jack opened the locked door of their room he stooped to pick up some object that had been thrust underneath. perk saw it was a letter, with a special delivery stamp on the same. somehow its coming gave him a sudden thrill around the region of his heart, as though he could sense important news in the offing--apparently this was destined to be a red-letter day in their experiences, with a decided break in the long release from active duty. chapter iv by special delivery somewhat to the disappointment of perk his comrade did not evince any haste about opening his letter, thrusting the same into his pocket, while he washed his hands, and brushed his hair. "somehow i seem to be as hungry as a wolf," jack remarked; "and as it's long past our usual time for lunch i move we drop around to our beanery, and lay in some stores in the way of chow." of course such a proposition appealed strongly to perk, who was seldom able to resist a call to meals. for the moment he quite forgot his recent curiosity to know what was in the letter, the receipt of which had caused jack to smile; and which moreover had certain familiar marks about it to make perk feel certain it came from headquarters. "queer heow a feller c'n nigh 'bout forget certain stirrin' events in his past," he observed with a shake of his head; "an' suddenly have the same bob up in his mind, as clear as if they might a happened on'y yesterday." "i reckon you're referring to our old friend, cool slim garrabrant, eh, perk?" queried the other, indifferently. "none other," came the reply. "there was a man as might be called the king o' the counterfeiters, who'd had his thumb to his nose ever so long, alaughin' at uncle sam's slick boys, an' sendin' 'em all sorts o' tauntin' notes; so in the end the chief he come down off'n his high perch, an' gave _us_ a chanct to knock down the persimmons with a long pole; which we done as neat as any body'd choose." "bad taste to boast, perk, you want to remember." "can't help sayin' a few things, jack, an' pattin' us two flyin' cops on the chest. honest, i got an idea slim's sun had begun to set jest as soon as the job o' runnin' him in was placed in aour hands. nobody but them as knew haow to handle an airship could a fetched home the bacon in that case; 'cause slim he knowed how to get his long-green stuff clear withaout leavin' any trace, usin' that ole crate to carry the coney supplies east an' west o' his hidin' place, where he carried on the work along a big scale." "of course what you say is all true enough," ventured jack as they walked along, heading for the nearest eatingplace, which they sometimes patronized when close by; "but both of us would do well to try and forget our share in that haul--it's old stuff by now. and besides," continued jack, "somehow i feel bad when i remember that it was probably that little kid's own daddy we sent up." "yeah!" mused perk, unwilling to change the subject, it appeared, "an' the judge socked it to slim good an' heavy--give him a long sentence, so 'at he'll have to serve behind the walls o' that atlanta pen 'til he's an old, broken-down man, an' not marked dangerous to law-abidin' folks." "there are a few others of his stripe yet outside prison walls, remember, partner," jack told him, as they entered the eatingplace, walking over to a table somewhat aloof from all others, and on this account usually chosen for such meals as they took there; as they sometimes discussed their secret work while eating it was policy to keep clear from other diners, and at the same time lower their voices, since walls may have ears, and even hide dictaphones that record every spoken word. "yeou never said truer words, ole top," perk agreed in his odd fashion. "scofflaws aplenty to keep our crowd busy for years ahead. say, d'ye know i been readin' a heap 'bout a smart guy they say calls hisself king cole--seems like he got a hole in the wall 'way out in the wildest part o' the rockies, an' jest laughs at the boys from washington to size him up." "i recollect you talking of him more than a few times, perk; from which fact i had a hunch you might be wishing the chief'd turn over the assignment for apprehending him to our hands--is that correct, partner?" "don't care if i do have to acknowledge the corn, matey; someheow that dickey grabbed a stiff hold on my thinkin' box--why, onct i even dreamed we'd cornered him with his gay crowd, an' was commencin' to exchange shots with the bunch, when i woke up, an' felt too cheap for anything to know it was on'y hot air." jack laughed as he seated himself. "i remember how furious you were, and saying it was a shame to be cheated that way, eh, perk?" they gave their orders, and were presently partaking of what the waiter set before them; afterwards retiring, as though already knowing they would call should they require further service. this afforded perk another opportunity to "use his tongue," a vocation that gave him the utmost enjoyment. "jest occurred to me them paper accounts sez as haow his bees'-nest was located in a stretch 'tween two o' the highest mountain ranges in the hull country o' the rockies--called the secret settlement happy valley; which i opine sounds a right queer name for a den o' pizenous human snakes, sech as the law wants f'r 'bout ev'ry crime on the calendar." "no accounting for tastes, buddy," jack told him. "it might feel that way to men against whom the hand of every honest person was raised. most of his crowd, i read, was believed to be reckoned the scum of the earth, who were wanted for nearly every crime going--murderers, bank cashiers who'd robbed the institutions of which they had been the head; and all such black sheep, outlawed from decent society by their crimes and misdemeanors." perk grinned amiably, as though what his companion had just said made no difference to him--that he still wished from the bottom of his heart they were commissioned to undertake the dangerous task of breaking up the settlement in that so-called paradise of fugitives. "don't faize me any when yeou talk that way, boy," he told his companion, with one of his amused chuckles that seemed to come up from his toes, "the more stuff yeou gotter bump up agin the better i like it--cain't be too tough for a hill-billy like me--that's what they calls the boys daown in the ozarks, where i put in near a hull year huntin' precious stones in the earth, an' never findin' enuff to git me my grub. another o' them memories as comes along withaout warnin', to ha'nt me." "perk, you promised me once that some fine day you'd make a start at that memory book, covering all your activities since you were knee-high to a duck--i'm going to press you to really start in doing the job, perk; it will make a book well worth reading, if only half of all the adventures you've told me about are included. now, don't forget your promise, for i'll hold you to it the next layoff we have float our way." "i sure hate to do it, partner; but seein' i did give yeou my solemn word i s'pose i'll jest have to keep my promise; but it'll seem to me like a heap o' blarney an' boastin'. my loose tongue sure gets me into a nest o' scrapes, which ain't one bit pleasin' to sech a shy gink as me." ah! perk's eyes opened wider as he saw the other make a quick movement with his hand, as though suddenly remembering the mysterious letter thrust under the door of their room, and bearing that long blue stamp that signified special service, quick delivery to the person addressed. sure enough jack drew the missive out, and proceeded to cut the end of the envelope, using a table knife for the purpose. shooting a quick glance across the table in the direction of his chum, he smiled slightly, as though very well knowing how perk was eating his heart up with curiosity. perk stopped feeding, as his abstraction was so intense he hardly knew the way to his mouth--both eyes were glued on jack's face, as if he hoped to read the answer to the riddle there, a thing that had never as yet come within the scope of his knowledge, since jack could hide his emotions under an assumed indifference that baffled interpretation. it seemed that jack had read every word of the letter, although there were several enclosures yet to be gone over; however he appeared as if he had picked up certain intelligence of such a drastic character as to make him sit there mulling it all over, and possibly trying to dovetail things together. perk, poor fellow, could stand the awful suspense no longer. "well, ole scout, ain't yeou thinkin' 'baout lettin' me into the game--i somehaow take it fur granted there's news come 'long that's agoin' to start us off agin follerin' the air trails on the heels o' some skunks what got themselves outside the law. lay off, partner, an' gimme a run fur my money, won't yeou?" chapter v the cat is out of the bag jack looked at perk, and smiled. "i certainly must ask your pardon, old chap," he hastened to say; "for keeping you in the dark so long. fact is, what came to me in this letter gave me such food for thought i clean forgot you were my side partner, and entitled to my full confidence. forgive it, perk, wont you?" "sure thing, jack; then i kinder guess the letter must be from headquarters?" "no other, perk." "what's in the wind this time?" demanded the other, eagerly; as though his nostrils could already sniff the burnt powder that went with action. "that's a fair question, and i'll try to answer you," said jack. "it isn't the mere fact that we're ordered to duty once more, that i was thinking about just now, because such a thing comes along every once in so often in the exercise of our duties--but strangely enough our meeting up to-day with the family of a man we'd help put in jail doesn't seem to bring our queer list of coincidences to a halt." "hot-diggetty-dig! naow yeou got me a guessin' good an' hard, partner--go to it, an' explain what yeou mean." "well, it looks as if a wish you expressed only a short time ago was going to be fulfilled," jack told him. "haow come, buddy?" queried perk. "we were talking about a certain scoundrel who's name we've seen so often of late in the papers--remember, perk?" an expression of sublime delight passed over the face of gabe perkiser; showing how he understood, and what a sense of exhileration the knowledge afforded him. "kinder guess naow, jack, yeou might be meanin' that same ole king cole like he goes to call hisself--the brazen guy that makes all kinds o' fun o' secret service mokes--is _that_ the answer, brother?" jack nodded in a way that could have only one meaning. "okay, perk; you're on. "shake on that, young feller--it's the most glorious news i ever did get outen washington. if half what they says turns aout to be true, we're in fur the hot time o' aour life, seems like." "you never can tell, partner, which way the cat will jump--sometimes when you're expecting an easy windup things get mighty tough; then again if you're looking for a hard battle it sometimes turns out to be just a mere walkover--a flash in the pan. we have to take things as we find them, and let it go at that." "ole king cole sent aout his nasty defi to the hull secret service crowd, an' so far he's been able to give the boys the nasty grand laugh; but they say a pitcher may go to the well jest onct too many times--mebbe we might be the lucky ones to smash the same, pronto." "i've read that two different men of our staff have disappeared, after getting hot on the trail of this band of scoundrels; which goes to tell us they're a hard-boiled bunch, who wont stop at committing any crime so as to keep out of the pen." perk only grinned, as though the tougher they came the more he liked them. "that's all right jack, i'm best suited when they make 'em that way," he hastened to assure his chum; although really there was no need of his thus doing, since jack knew him like a book, with all his good qualities, and shortcomings as well. "are you through eating?" asked the other; and on receiving an affirmative nod he continued: "all right, suppose we adjourn to our room for a conference, where we can be dead certain of not being overheard. there are a few other things to tell that may open your eyes still further, as they did mine; besides, the big boss enclosed a few clippings, and typed reports, for us to study, as he believes they will give us some important clues that are going to be of considerable help in tracking these outlaws to their den." "gee whiz! things _do_ seem to be headin' aour way, don't they though, jack? yeou said there might be a sudden turn in the game, an' she sure enough did come hoppin' 'long, to make me laugh, an' feel so like singin'." "well, please don't start that racket here, partner; if ever they heard you singing they'd certainly put the bars against us; and we both like the chow in this same little restaurant, remember." "go easy on a feller whose education in music must a been neglected when he was a kid. an' jack, mebbe so yeou'll let me set my lamps on that ere document, onct we get indoors at aour quarters." "you're going to know everything that i do, perk; that goes without question; for how could we work together as a team if we pulled contrarywise?" leaving the eatinghouse they were soon back in their comfortable room, where they could take things easy while laying out plans for the near future. perk started his favorite pipe going, as though getting ready to be vastly entertained by what was in prospect; he always looked as though at peace with the whole world, even counting those who defied the law to keep them from doing whatever they pleased, however it might turn out for other people--such was the beneficial effects of tobacco on his system, for there were times when he could never be supremely happy until he got his pipe going full blast. "naow fur it, partner;" he opened up with, "i'm settled, an' ready to imbibe the hull kittin' story, with nawthin' bein' held back, like yeou promised me." "i'm meaning to read the letter to you first, and then later on you can pore over it yourself, making a mental photograph of the contents, so that every sentence can be recalled from memory upon occasion." this was the way jack generally arranged things, for he knew just how to work so as to get perk fully interested; and accustomed to the programme the other had never been known to take exception to jack's methods. "i get yeou, partner," was perk's comment; "it's part o' aour reg'lar programme to learn the big points o' aour job, so we aint agoin' to be rattled when we come to settle daown to work." "now fix your mind on what i'm going to read, and forget everything else but the one business we're being given to carry through." accordingly jack commenced, with perk occasionally asking some pertinent question, which was cheerfully answered by the reader. "now," observed jack later on, "we've covered much that the chief has had taken down by his stenographer; but the windup of the whole matter is the heart of the story; you want to hold your breath while i read it out to you, because, unless i miss my guess, you're in for the biggest shock of your life." "hot-diggetty-dig! that sounds right ser'us, partner, she shore do; but i'll stiffen aout, grip the sides o' my chair, an' gulp it all in like a thirsty broncho would fresh water after comin' in from the sandy desert. hit 'er up!" "listen then to what he writes here," jack was saying, soberly, yet keeping an eye on perk's tell-tale face, which he never could wholly control: "'the enclosed suggestions are clippings, and reports from some of our agents who had started out to track this ugly gang to its secret hideout. taken collectively and individually they will convince you as to the character of many of the knotty problems you will have to solve before success can be your reward in smashing this new king cole mob of law breakers, cattle thieves, bank robbers, and what-not along the line of up-to-date crime. "'so you will understand the magnitude of this business when i tell you it is not only suspected, but fully believed, this so-called king cole is an old offender, sailing under a new name--none other than a clever convict whose escape from the atlanta penitentiary some months ago has been purposely kept a state secret, in hopes of its being helpful in locating his whereabouts, and bringing him back to his empty cell, with the penalty of having his sentence lengthened on account of his flight--an arrangement that so far has not been in the least profitable or successful. "'you will understand what i mean when i tell you the name of this rascal, whom i remember you and your comrade had the high honor of bringing before the courts, and starting on the road to the government institution--it is'"--jack paused to watch perk's eager face, and then added with considerable force: "'it is slippery slim garrabrant!'" chapter vi laying plans "oh! my gosh!" so completely staggered did perk seem to have become at the disclosure made by jack, that he sat there, incapable of motion, just staring at his companion in the manner of a man who thinks he sees a hobgoblin. "slim--slim garrabrant!" he finally mustered up enough breath to almost whisper, looking a bit awed, jack thought. "no other, partner," his pal assured him, cheerfully. "you know how we were saying that sometimes this old world looked mighty small--well, this happens to be one of those times. take it as a matter of fact, perk--one of those quirks that roll around occasionally." "yeah--sure, that's right, jack--jest so--nawthin' awful strange 'bout him aturnin' aout to be the lucky dog as skipped aout o' the pen, giving uncle sam the laugh. go on an' tell me some more. kinder looks like we'd got to roll aour hoop up agin that smart aleck again, 'fore we get him caged for keeps." "well, i don't know about that, matey," jack told him, frowning as he spoke; "but if they _do_ get him back alive in his cell they'll keep closer tabs on slim, you can wager. but the devil of it is, can he ever be retaken? both of us have good reason to remember what a big job we had on our hands the other time; which isn't to be compared with what we'll stack up against now." perk had by this time succeeded in getting back his customary self reliance, when he would scoff at such a word as "can't." he screwed his face up in what evidently was intended to be a sneer, as he went on to say: "huh! that ere is the last thing to worry me, buddy. yeou an' me, guess we make a team not easy to beat. when we git started we'll jest give that gink a knock fur a goal, an' clinch the game for keeps. but like as not we orter be makin' up aour plans, hadn't we, jack?" "certainly," responded the other, calmly; "but first of all let it be distinctly understood in the beginning there's no need of any undue hurry." "course not," agreed perk, wagging his head in the affirmative, as was his usual habit when jack was laying down the law. "while of course we'll not loiter on the way," continued the head man of the combination; "just the same we must not do anything that's going to interfere with our customary efficiency--no going off at half-cock, like a gun that's in need of lock repairs." perk chuckled as if highly edified. "say, partner," he hastened to remark, "not much danger o' sech a thing happenin' with _yeou_ runnin' the lead, i give yeou my affidavy on that same." "that's all blarney, perk; and don't depend on my being free from stumbling in the dark--i'm only human, and can make silly mistakes, like every known pilot--even lindbergh's had the misfortune to smash his landing gear when making an ascent, and with the girl he afterwards married, remember." "sure thing, jack, but didn't he manage a wonderful landin', an' keep from a bad smashup, on'y hurtin' his shoulder in the jam?" "yes, and perk, some people attribute his escape to good luck; but i know full well it was his skill in understanding just what to do in an emergency." "well, what's aour programme agoin' to be?" demanded the other. "first of all, then, we've got to study those enclosures the chief sent in his letter--they'll give us a good many important points, and it may be locate this secret hideout of the crowd that's bothering uncle sam so much. get that, do you?" "i'm on, boss--go to it some more," replied perk, blithely. "as we shall be scouring one of the wildest and most dreaded parts of the whole rockies," continued jack, "of course it'll be necessary for us to carry a big cargo of stuff along--plenty of supplies in the line of grub, as well as gas and oil. then, since we are bound to line up, sooner or later, against the whole gang, we must tote tear-bombs, and some of the destructive ones, such as we've been forced to make use of before." "sounds okay to me, ole hoss," perk assented, looking particularly well pleased at the possibility of wild action, which these preliminary remarks of his leader seemed to presage--doubtless his wonderful memory carried him back to the previous occasion when they went out after slim garrabrant, and dragged him before the bar of justice, a feat which earned them the commendation of the big chief, as well as a nice step upwards in the way of increased pay. although in many things perk took no man's dust when it came to a knowledge of flying activities, and air knowledge; just the same he felt it no disgrace to "sit at the feet" of his best pal, and imbibe information when the plan of campaign was being laid out--perk freely admitted he was "not so good," along such lines--ready to shift the responsibility to jack's shoulders, yet joyfully bear his share of all subsequent action. the papers were divided up, and both of them read steadily for some time, occasionally exchanging observations, with perk asking frequent questions concerning matters that were not quite clear to his rather slow mind. in this fashion, just as wise jack knew would be the case, both of them gradually got "heated up," with the fervor of the case--indeed, this view of matters was also taken by his companion, since perk declared it made him think of how they used to get a tracking hound to smell some garment worn by the child that was lost, so he could take the trail, and follow it to a successful finish. "which i vum will be aour way o' clappin' hands on this slippery kiote, once we git agoin' strong," he went on to add, with supreme confidence, it appeared. "one thing we've got to remember," jack mentioned; "which is about keeping our light hidden under a bushel. men who follow our dangerous profession must never get themselves in the public prints if it can be avoided; and as for standing up to be in the spotlight, so all people can take note of their looks, it just isn't done, you know, perk." possibly there may have been occasions in the past when, after they had been unusually successful in landing their man, perk had shown a disposition to talk a bit too much--grant interviews to newspaper reporters, who were apt to go into details covering some of the ways such sleuths outwitted those whom they hunted; all of which was bad for their being successful in forthcoming missions of like character, since the lawbreakers would avidly seize upon all such printed matter, to size up the methods that were utilized in bringing about the downfall of men of their stamp. "yeah, course that's the right thing--we'll jest keep aour own counsel an' do the gittin' o' aour stuff together withaout beating the gong an' 'tractin' the mob's attention. we wouldn't live up to aour reputation as sleuth hounds if we didn't work undercover, jack." "fine for you, brother," he was told; "i'm tickled pink to know you're waking up to the necessity for secret service men keeping away from the glare of publicity, even if they have to lose much credit; like editors of the big newspapers, who never put even their initials to the strong articles they write everyday." in this fashion did jack usually apply himself to eradicating certain weaknesses that afflicted his best pal, knowing that in so doing he was helping perk to become more efficient; also more valuable in the service of the government. after some hours spent in this fashion, they found themselves pretty well inoculated with the most salient points connected with their latest task; and both of them were glad when it began to grow dark, with supper in prospect. "i rather think we're pretty well fed up on this stuff," jack finally took occasion to remark, getting up from his easy-chair, and stretching his cramped legs; "so how about dropping it all, and going out to feed our complaining tummies?" "i aint got any objections to that ere business, buddy," perk quickly observed, following suit in leaving his seat, and going through certain motions such as office sitters carry out in accordance with radio instructions each and every morning, before going forth to the daily grind. "they c'n boast all they likes 'bout the belles o' the ballroom; the sweet janglin' o' the bells in the spanish missions up 'long the coast here, an' even the never-to-be-forgotten schoolbell; but for _me_ they aint nawthin' to make my heart sing with joy like the good ole-fashioned dinnerbell." "you've got plenty of company in that same worship, perk," the other told him, "a few people eat to live; but the biggest bunch live to eat. let hard times come, and they'll do without a good many things, but must have three meals a day--yes, and with men, their regular smoke as well." after leaving their cozy room, to walk along the street, business was tabooed; they must forget such personal affairs, and talk of anything under the sun save what engrossed their minds chief of all. jack had stressed this point when laying down that rule for their guidance, saying practically as follows: "we don't understand as yet just what the ramifications or extent of this combination of lawbreakers is; for all we know they may be organized, and doing such a big business that they can employ spies in certain cities, to pick up valuable pointers; informing them of profitable strikes on western trails, and along railroads where treasure is being daily carried east and west; besides that, these spies would be on the watch to learn of plans for bringing members of the gang to justice--for all we know they have been keeping tabs on _our_ movements right along; and may be in possession of considerable knowledge covering our being the ones commissioned by headquarters to proceed against them. on this account it is up to us to play the innocent, and when in a public eating place never talk shop, especially if the room is full, as is always the case here at suppertime." there was always so much common sense in what jack advanced that perk could seldom grumble, no matter if he did not wholly agree with his partner. besides, there were so many interesting matters, as given out in the daily prints, and along the line of aviation stunts, that they need never lack for material to carry on their careless chatter as they dined, and watched their neighbors, after the usual manner of detectives on or off duty, seeking to further add to their information as to the possible presence of eavesdroppers. chapter vii ready for anything the following day was a busy one for the two pals. each had a regular programme to follow, jack having made out two lists of important things absolutely essential to the carrying out of their plans. as usually happened he left to perk the task of seeing that the ship was fully supplied with all the fuel and oil she was capable of carrying off in making an ascent; some of which could be stored in the wings, purposely provided with stowage room for such occasions. then when it came to taking aboard a stock of provisions, such as would not require cooking, trust perk for having a complete understanding as to these requirements--he possessed such a vast knowledge of what was good for a hungry man, not in a position to start a campfire, that when he put the last of their stock away aboard the plane it looked as if they might be getting ready to explore the arctic regions, where nothing but driftice was to be met, and no chance of having a fire either for cooking or comfort. jack, meanwhile did his part, making carefully arranged plans, with alternate makeshifts such as could be taken up in case unsurmountable obstacles baffled them in the one chosen for the start--with jack it was always part of his strategy to have several "strings to his bow," and never if possible "put all his eggs in one basket." when wearied after all the tramping he had done in accumulating such a vast pile of material, perk dropped down into a chair alongside his chum--who was still doing the finishing touch to his programme--he heaved a sigh as of contentment--as a rule perk was not a vigorous walker, preferring to go by airplane, motorcar, or bus; perhaps even by stage if necessary, so that such unusual exercise told heavily on his muscles. "get through with your list, partner?" queried jack, shoving aside his papers, as though he too had had quite enough of work for one day. "sure did, matey," came the satisfied reply; "we're done loaded up to the limit, an' then some. hope the ole gal don't fight shy o' liftin' sech a rummy cargo; but so far we aint never had her balk on us. how yeou gittin' on with things, jack?" "making good progress," came the steady answer. "i've learned that we've shouldered a whopping big job this time; and still things keep cropping up, that make it necessary to go back and change matters some. but i'll be in fine shape by tomorrow noon, i figure." "kinder reckon on makin' the jump then, air yeou, boss?" demanded perk. jack shook his head in the negative. "better wait up until night-time, buddy," he explained. "an ounce of prevention's always a heap better than a pound of cure, you remember. we can slip away a lot easier in the night, as we've proven more than a few times in the past. then besides, we'd like to profit by the latest weather report. if a wide storm threatened it would be good policy to hold back even for several days, rather than get caught in a hard blow; such things are said to be doubly tough amidst the mountain gorges and canyons, with their cranky air currents, and a continual danger of running smack into some high peak." "i leaves all that figgerin' to yeou, as usual, partner; when yeou gives the word, that's goin' to be the right time for us to climb, an' not afore. golly! but i'm as hungry as seven wolves all in one--hopes as haow they got steak an' fried onions on the bill o' fare tonight, 'cause my innards air jest a yellin' fur a mess o' my fav'rite chow." "i can't say i'm in the same box, because being shut up for hours, and badgering my poor brain with a hundred puzzling questions, isn't calculated to make a man ferociously hungry. you had outdoor exercise, and in consequence have built up a glorious appetite. queer what some fellows _will_ do so as to cater to their thirst or hunger." "naow whatever kin yeou mean by that same remark, jack, ole boy?" they were on their way along the street at the time, keeping step as they headed for the restaurant. jack seemed agreeable so far as explaining, for there was a little yarn back of his words, just as the astute perk had suspected, knowing his chum as well as he did. "this story was told to me long years ago, but i never think of it that i don't get a fresh laugh," jack was saying, chuckling as he spoke. "it seems a couple of artists who were fond of trout fishing were up in maine, stopping at a small hotel, while waiting for their guides to show up. "they noticed at breakfast several mornings that another party, small and dried up, but a fisherman to the tips of his fingers nevertheless, always ordered salt mackerel for his morning meal. this aroused their curiosity, so one day, after having a good confab with him on the prospect of sport ahead on the trip they had planned to take, one of the pair had the audacity to refer to the singular liking for such a dish evinced by the other. he grinned and looked wise, as he went on to say in reply, not taking the least offense over the matter as a personal one: "'oh! i aint carin' so much for the fish, gents, an' gets fed up on the same sometimes; but let me tell you, folks 'long 'bout ten o'clock every mornin' there comes the most delicious _thirst_ that pays up for my eating them salt fish.' think of him punishing himself so regularly, just to create a tremendous yearning for his favorite tipple." perk saw the point, and of course laughed quite vigorously. "hot-diggetty-dig! boy, hope i aint jest as bad as that same gent," he presently gurgled. "i c'n understand heow he felt though, an' she don't seem so derned queer to me after all." jack often managed to get off some such yarn when the necessity arose for keeping the talkative perk from "spilling the beans," as the latter himself would have explained it--perk was a rather simple minded fellow, taken in all, but a faithful and sincere chum, a ready worker, and as brave as they make them, even if a bit incautious, often to recklessness in his actions. it seemed as though there were more people dining that evening in the particular little restaurant than ever before: but joe had upturned two chairs at their favorite corner table, toward which jack led the way; so they were assured of comfort, even though late-comers were standing, awaiting their turn. both of them always made it a point never to dress in any fashion such as would be apt to give away the fact of their being airmen, or as having some connection with the following of aviators. this was done from a broad policy, founded on the fact that undoubtedly rumors of their calling might long ere this have posted criminal circles; and jack for one had no fancy about having gunmen dogging his steps, with murder in their hearts, because of the fact that this pair of "birds" had been chiefly instrumental in sending some pal, or brother, to the "big house" for a long stay, or it might be to the chair to atone for his crimes. jack always sat so he could look in careless fashion around the room. his manner was that of a social fellow, taking an inventory of the diners, as though wondering if he could single out some crony. there was nothing of the "eagle eye that could look into a man's very soul, and read his hidden thoughts," as usually connected with the mystery story, or stage detective--not about jack, or for that matter perk either--so far as outward appearances went they were only a couple of goodnatured young men, smiling and agreeable, enjoying their meal, and chatting about the latest stirring events of the day in the field of sports, possibly also interested in political matters, as would be natural. perk always declared he felt as though he had put on a mask, when thus debarred from "talking shop," with curious ears so close by; but he realized the necessity for such extreme caution, when they were always pitted against the desperadoes of the underworld in their daily work. "somethin' o' a mob here tonight, partner?" suggested perk, after they had been served by joe, the waiter, and taken the edge off their appetites; both having settled on the same aromatic dish, which perk was savagely attacking. "looks that way, perk; if this keeps on we'll have to find another place to feed, when we strike san diego again; since neither of us is partial to crowds. remember the old frontiersman who complained that the neighborhood was getting too thickly settled for him and his folks, because a new family had started to build a log cabin less than _seven miles away_? people look at what makes a crowd with different viewpoints, we have to remember; what is flesh to one is just poison to another man." "huh! never heard tell o' that idear 'fore," confessed the interested perk; "but it rings like there might be somethin' in the same. see anybody yeou happens to know 'round here partner?" "not one that i would be apt to speak to," jack told him; "of course we see some of them each night; but they've paid no attention to us, for which we're only too glad; doesn't pay to pick up chance acquaintances at haphazard, when you happen to be engaged in a certain type of business. if you reckon you've attended to that vacuum downstairs we might as well be moving out, and give some of the standup people a chance at this table." "let's get goin' then," agreed perk, pushing back his chair; which action caused several groups of impatient waiting persons to start toward the spot, so as to preempt the vacant table. "show tonight, jack?" queried the satisfied perk, as they moved along. "i ought to get busy once more on my stuff, as my programme isn't at all complete; but just the same i don't want to overdo such brain fatiguing work, and have to lay off a spell--nothing to be gained by such corrupt practices, i imagine. so, since i know you feel as if you'd like to see something, to take your mind off business for one night, decide on where you want to go, and we'll be off." "course i'm not really dead set on seeing any picture," apologized perk; "but chances are we aint agoin' to have another whiff o' a screen drama for days and days; an' it'll fill in time, as well as freshenin' up yeour mind more'r less, buddy." what they saw and heard does not concern us in following up this, their latest exploit; but evidently perk fully enjoyed the night's entertainment, since he seemed to be in a jovial state of mind all the way back to their sleeping quarters. their ship was quartered close to a well known aviation field, where air mail was coming and going at all hours of the day and night; as well as privately owned planes of the very latest design, some of them wonderful craft in which daring adventurers could seek out the utmost parts of the earth, backed of course, by an abundance of necessary funds. they were not known under their real names to any of those who from time to time they chanced to meet and chat with. it was generally understood however, that jack was the son of a wealthy family in the south--new orleans to be specific; and had come from candler field in atlanta, with his companion as assistant pilot. moreover they were believed to be waiting for certain things to transpire, after which they meant to take an extended jaunt down through south america, over the andes, and the vast wilderness of the amazon valley, with its tributaries, engaged in collecting myriads of wonderful orchids, said to have their _habitat_ in that torrid region. thus no one had bothered them to any extent--at least not thus far; realizing that the young explorer expressed a dislike about creeping into print, and having his plans broadcast, so that perhaps some rival plant hunter might "slip one over" and beat him to the much prized field. they came and went, as they pleased in their boat, making sure never to leave the slightest evidence of their true calling lying around, which would be apt to "lift the lid," and give them away. when perk that very day was so busily engaged loading up, it was all in line with their pretended objective; entering into the spirit of the great game of "pulling the wool over the eyes" of curious fellow aviators, perk took delight in concocting an extravagant yarn, depicting some of the possible adventures he anticipated running across down in the countries of south america--brazil, the orinoco river forest lands, peru, chili and the argentine--enough to make them envy his good fortune, when tough luck bound them in fetters along the line of their more prosaic jobs. jack was indeed through with the last item on his lists by noon of the following day; but adhered to his expressed policy of holding back their launching until night came on. perk, however, made a last visit to the hangar in which their beautiful ship lay quartered, to make doubly certain he had omitted absolutely nothing that could add to their comfort--and safety. chapter viii the winged messenger "coast seems to be clear, eh, jack?" perk asked this question as they reentered their room, after having come back from supper. "looks that way, as far as i can see," replied his shipmate, throwing himself down in an easy-chair, that seemed to invite attention. "no signs o' aour bein' spied on so far," asserted perk, boldly. "i saw nothing that looked suspicious, partner," continued the other. "kinder had an idee that lanky goof at the table 'gainst the wall kept lookin' aour way, like he had a suspicion we'd bear watchin'--did yeou happen to notice him, buddy--queer squint to one o' his lamps, an' a turrible long nose that made me think it jest longed to stick itself in other folks' business." jack laughed as if highly amused. "so you reckoned he was some interested in us, did you, perk? well, he had a right to be, i'd say, if you asked me." "what's that, partner?" asked the stouter member of the crew of the flying ship that was working for uncle sam's law and order department. "why, he knew just who we were, and why we chanced to be in old san diego right now--get that straight, perk." "yeou're kiddin' me, jack," whined perk, looking hurt. "i repeat what i said; and to make it plainer i'm adding further that man you mention not only knew us for what we are, but also why we were whispering across our table so much, when certain things came up that had to be discussed, even against our general rule never to talk shop when in public." "the devil he did!" ejaculated the astounded perk; "then why did yeou jest say there didn't seem to be any spy a hangin' 'round on our tail, to put them critters wise to our headin' thataways--tell me that, mister?" "ask me a hard one, brother," jack flashed back, still amused it could be easily seen. "i'll go a step further, and say that he was tempted to speak to us, perhaps even join us at our table; but one thing kept him from doing so, which was the iron-bound rule that one agent of uncle sam must never thrust himself into any game that is being conducted by another of the brotherhood." perk drew in a long breath, and stared at his comrade. "meanin', i kinder guess, as heow that party might be in the secret service like we air--does that fill the bill, jack?" "just what it does," he was told straight from the shoulder. "then--yeou _know_ him, i'm understandin' boy?" "i most certainly do, perk--you've heard of him many a time too, even if you've probably never happened to run across him. that man's one of the smartest detectives in the whole shooting match--his name, son, is josiah harper, sometimes called the hawk on account of his long beak, and the fact that he possesses abnormal eyesight." perk grinned as if relieved. "so, that's the wonderful hawk, is it, partner?" he was saying, as if he found it difficult to grasp the fact. "no, i never did run acrost him so far's i know. what in tarnation kin _he_ be doin' out this way--yeou don't figger he's goin' to butt in on aour job, do yeou?" "hardly that, perk, i should say; if he was we'd have been piped off to that effect. i reckon he had orders to run over to san diego to catch us before we took off." "does that mean he might be fetchin' a last hour message, jack?" "i figured that way," came the ready answer; "and following you across the room i managed to rub up against harper, to have a small slip of paper pushed into my waiting hand. here it is, and we'll see what it carries--some last hour report, i fancy, that the chief believes will come in handy, sooner or later." "well, i swan!" gasped perk, evidently considerably tickled over the clever work carried through by his companion, without any diner in the restaurant being the wiser, so far as they knew. for several minutes jack appeared to be studying the writing on the crumpled piece of rice paper he had drawn from his vest pocket and straightened out. no wonder, when the writing seemed just a crazy mess of words, and figures--undoubtedly a secret cipher used by the agents in their particular branch of the government service, when occasion arose to communicate with each other. jack was so proficient in the cipher writing that he could read it readily without applying the key; in this case he evidently was weighing each terse paragraph as he translated the same. "some important, i takes it, buddy?" observed perk, who had watched the other nodding his head as he perused the message. "very, if we happen to be lucky enough to get close to the hideout of the gang. this little scrap of paper has a history, perk. it was carried from the mountains where this crowd hold out, to los angeles by a feathered post." "i doan't jest get yeou, partner--what's a feathered post--i never yet seen anything like that--yeou got me sunk, jack, boy." "you know what a carrier pigeon is, of course, perk--well, one of the two agents who were sent out on this case several months ago conceived the bright idea of carrying a bird with him. just as he feared might be the case they were eventually discovered, and brought to bay in a rocky canyon--the men wolves had them bottled up, so they must either surrender and take the consequences, or perish of hunger and thirst. he wrote this message in code on this thin tissue paper, fastened it under the wing of his bird, and tossed the pigeon up in the air. it may have been fired at, but since it showed up at its home cote in angeles it escaped being killed, or even crippled." "great work that, partner," snapped the intensely interested perk; "i shore takes off my hat to the lad who could think up sech a neat dodge. an' right there clost to the tigers' den he could set daown an' write a 'portant message in code, so's to send off his little birdie. that's a new trick on me, i own up--a stunt worth while." jack went on to interpret the contents of the little missive that had been carried all the way from the heart of the mountains. perk listened as if bent on letting each and every word sink deeply into his receptive mind for future use. "them ere directions for locatin' the place where they foregather, is shore valuable stuff fur aour crowd, jack, ole hoss," he finally remarked, after his chum had read the writing on the thin paper twice, putting due emphasis on certain words that had an apparently significant meaning. "particularly perk, that part describing a splendid landing-field some miles distant, where we could drop down safely, and without getting close enough to the haunt for sharp ears to catch the noise of a ship's exhaust." "wust thing 'bout human bloodhounds huntin' their prey in a bus--never will seem right to me 'til they fix things so's we kin creep up on aour prey without tellin' the hull world a airplane is somewhere 'round. think that happy day ever will come, jack?" "sure it will, perk, and we'll see it to--if it so happens we haven't already crashed, and gone west. why not, when such wonderful advances are being made in aviation circles every moon. right now we're doing a lot of amazing stunts with our ships that were never dreamed of five years ago. anything is possible, now they've got started taking to the air." "huh! it was time all right," grunted perk; "when yeou see haow all the highways air gettin' glutted with autos, 'specially clost to big cities. even san diego folks find it hard to git 'round on sundays an' holidays. but this fresh happenin' sorter gives me a hunch we're agoin' to make the ripple, an' fetch home the bacon after all--things they air all workin' thataways." "i had the last word from the weather man," jack went on to add; "and i'm sorry to say it wasn't quite as fine as i'd like." "storm agoin' to hold us up, mebbe naow, partner?" suggested perk, with one of his impatient frowns, as he disliked very much being balked in any plan. "n--no, not quite that bad; but there are reports of a nasty field of fog gathering in the direction of the mountains far back from the coast; but we'll have to take our chances, now we're fixed for the jump--it may not turn out as bad as they reckon on. let's get ready to slip off, perk." chapter ix headed for trouble an hour later the two adventurers arrived at the san diego aviation grounds, having taken a taxi to carry them and their limited luggage. the night was a fine one, so far as the star-studded heavens could be taken as an indication. if there was fog gathering some hundreds of miles distant along the route of the air mail course, no indication of such worry to the pilot's peace of mind had reached this coastal station. "goin' to have a right decent start, looks like," perk mentioned, after they had dismissed the taxi close to the isolated hangar just outside the aviation field limits. "i expected we'd have it clear as a bell," jack told him, as he unlocked the doors of the hangar; "just as well that we don't have our troubles strike us before we even hit our pace--time enough for all that when we get well on our way." as jack had anticipated there was light aplenty for their purpose; ships were coming and going at this early time in the evening, so that the field lights were all on, making it easy to see. secrecy was such a part of their business that they did not even have hostlers present to help push their bus out to the runway--it would not be the first occasion when these two energetic fellows had managed all such things by themselves. they did not loiter, now that the final take-off was at hand; jack was a little afraid lest some mechanic, or pilot, hearing them working, and being more or less curious concerning the pair who owned the trim aircraft in which they had been taking trips for weeks past, (and about whom a halo of mystery hovered) might come nosing around, offering to lend a hand, but really hoping to pick up a few words that would explain their leaving under cover of night--honest to goodness sportsmen, going off for a hunt, or a fishing jaunt to the mountains, would not be apt to time their departure while the world was smothered in darkness. they were now poised on the short runway, and ready to start off. perk had followed his mate aboard, and was already busying himself with certain preliminary duties that always fell to his charge. "ready, all?" called out jack. "give her the gun, partner!" replied perk. there was a sudden roar as the engine took the spark, a quiver of the entire craft, and then a quick jerk as jack moved the throttle toward his chest. down the slight slope they started, gathering more headway with every second until the ship was bumping rapidly over the ground, her skid already beginning to scorn the soil as if eager to take to the air. then her nose being pointed upwards she began to rise like a bird, passing well over the trees that stood at the end of the course. they were off on their momentous and perilous mission; only fate knew what the result would prove to be; whether success awaited them, or failure, perhaps even death; for they were bound on an errand to a country where the majesty of the law was scorned, where might meant right, and men did not place much value on a human life, more or less. to see how joyous perk seemed to be no one would imagine he gave much heed to the prospect of thrilling episodes that would threaten them as soon as they entered the danger zone. but then that was the way with perk, who loved adventure and close calls, and was never happier than when defying the power of lawless men, badly wanted by those higher-ups in charge of the famous secret service. the lighted aviation field was quickly left far behind, as jack headed into the northeast, with the intention of holding to the beacon-lighted trail of the air mail up to a certain point; when they must abandon those welcome markers that flashed their intelligence every ten seconds, and were so useful for keeping the mail carriers on their proper course. like most up-to-date pilots jack and his mate had supplied themselves with the handy ear-phones, by adjusting which to their heads they could communicate in a satisfactory fashion when it became necessary. but for this wise preparedness they would have had to shout at the top of their lungs in order to pass a few words back and forth--a most unsatisfactory way of doing, as every pilot has found out in times gone by, when there was no other method known. for a full hour they kept on their way persistently following the air mail route. it was exceedingly refreshing to be able to note as many as three flashing beacons at the same time, from the four thousand foot ceiling at which jack was flying, the further one rather dim, it is true; but strong enough to catch the watchful eye of the pilot. perk had kept "bottled up" as long as he could stand it, and now broke out as if eager to ask some sort of question that was on his mind. under such conditions it was his usual way to gradually approach the matter by jerks. "huh! pretty soft i'd call it, partner, if yeou troubled to ask me," he observed as an opener. "as what?" demanded jack, tersely. "the job o' bein' an air mail runner--everything fixed for 'em so's they kin keep on the right track--who'd lose his way with them friendly flash-light beacons apoppin' up ev'ry ten miles'r so, i want to know?" "you're away off your reckoning when you say that, perk; remember how they've got to meet up with tough storms; and pea soup fogs you could cut with a knife, they're so thick. and in parts of their run the country is treacherous, with slants of wind breaking out of deep canyons; then, too, if anything goes wrong aboard their boat to make a safe landing on such rocky ground is full of all kinds of difficulties. no, the air mail pilot doesn't have such a sweet time of it as you seem to think--a night like this he can consider a peach; only there are not many built that way. you know they lots of times insist on starting out when a wheen of pilots would stay safe on the ground, and not take desperate chances." "partner, yeou'll have to excuse haste an' a bad pen, as the pig said after breaking out, and skippin' off on a full run. that time i shore didn't count ten 'fore i broke loose. guess naow all pilots git up agin hard fixes onct in a while, where the finest flash beacons in the hull world caint help 'em any. i kin understand haow it aint possible to lamp them lights atall through a thick fog--on'y by the altitude marker kin yeou tell if youre aflying sky high, or near scraping the ground. but did yeou happen to hear a ship takin' off jest after we slid aout, boss?" "yes, but that didn't give me any concern, perk. no danger of it's being any spy interested in following _us_." "but jest the same, jack, she's been keepin' on aour tail right along," protested the watchful one, as if he might have been worried a bit. "why not, when like as not the pilot is carrying the u. s. mail, and on his reg'lar night run north. we happen to be making use of his lights, that's all; and he's attending to his usual business. when we sheer off to the east soon now, leaving these flashlights behind, _then_ if you discover a ship following after us it'll be time to do something, not before." "thanks, partner; jest thought i had orter tell yeou, that's all," and with that perk lapsed into silence again, having worked his mind clear once more. further time passed. they had covered some hundreds of miles since leaving san diego, and jack, watching his map understood the time was close at hand for him to alter his course, and turn sharply toward the east, while the lighted mail line of travel continued northward. ten minutes afterwards and perk again broke out. "i kin see the fust wisps o' that ere fog yeou was a tellin' 'baout, boss," he announced grimly, as though appreciating the flashing beacons more than before, now that they were about at the end of their string, with the whole world of mountainous ground facing them, so full of hidden snares and pitfalls, not to mention human tigers with a fierce vendetta against all those busybodies of their particular breed. "that's interesting news, but not so delightful, perk, since i'm just going to switch, and head into the east." chapter x battling with the fog thanks to his carefully studied chart jack knew just about when he must head into the east, and make for the disputed land, where fugitives from justice had long kept away from the long arm of the law. in former days there had been just such a safe hiding-place further to the north, locally known as the "hole in the wall;" but it was of the past, and for some years had been thrown open to settlers and tourists. the die was cast, and for better or worse they had made their decision; but neither of them had any disposition to turn back. danger and these men of the force were accustomed to being familiar campmates; since there was no mission on which they could be sent but had its share of peril; if such expeditions were but picnics it would not be so necessary to dispatch the prize men of the service on the track, where others had failed after shooting their bolt. speedily were they swallowed up in the night. far distant, and in the east a mellow light low-down announced the rising of the moon, now far advanced in its last quarter. jack did not count for any assistance in the rising of the uncrowned queen of the night, since already he could see the gathering fog was growing thicker every passing minute. several times he lost the remnant of moon entirely, to have it creep into view again, as though the thick vapor had temporarily opened up; but only to close in again worse than ever, until the glimpse of the climbing orb came no more. thus began their fight with the fog--its insidious influence seemed to shut them in like an opaque curtain, growing more and more dense as the minutes moved along. realizing that they were now heading into that stretch where they might expect to meet with lofty mountain peaks, and crags, jack began a steady upward climb, being most desirous of taking no unnecessary chances of crashing against a rock cliff that was hidden from their view by the creeping fog. it seemed to be a most extraordinary fog, all told, perk explained to his own satisfaction. usually when thus compassed around about by a dense sea of vapor, and unable to take any sort of reckoning by means of the heavens above, or the earth beneath, this trouble could be remedied by climbing still further into the region of the clouds, and thus finding an altitude where the air was sweet and pure, even if a bit shivery. apparently that was not going to answer in the present case. jack had ascended until they were already some eight thousand feet from the earth; but if anything their enemy the fog appeared to be more dense than ever. in fact, it did not seem worth while to pursue this system of tactics any further, in order to beat the enshrouding blanket of sticky wetness--why, if they kept on much longer, the cold increasing the higher they lifted their ship, that same dripping moisture would be turning into _ice_, and the additional weight was apt to play havoc all around. "don't seem to be any let-up to the derned stuff, jack," perk at this time observed in the ear of his running mate. "bad medicine, all right--don't like it one bit, partner," came just the answer perk would have sworn his pal would make. "seems like there aint nawthin' we kin do to make things easier, eh, buddy?" "must peg away, keeping our nose pointed east, and ready to drop down lower if given half a show," was how the head pilot answered him. "yeah! don't 'pear to be anythin' else in sight, an' its sure gettin' mighty cold 'raound these diggin's, boy. i'm agoin' to drag aout my heavy fleece-lined coat, an' climb into the same jest for fun." "go to it, old chap; and after you're settled give me a chance to follow through, since i'm beginning to shiver as if i had the ague. this cold of the upper air currents is a heap worse than any we run into on the ground--seems to go all through you like a knife. phew!" apparently jack was not yet satisfied to drop lower; he would give their present altitude a little more chance to show what it could do in pressing the beastly fog down in the direction of the earth. "thunder an' mars! aint it awful thick, though?" perk was telling himself, as he rubbed the glass, and did his best to pierce the miserable stuff by which they were thus bound, so they had no power to break loose. "don't b'lieve i ever did see such a mess in all my days. talk 'bout flyin' blind, if we aint adoin' that same right naow i'll eat my hat!" flying blind--yes, that name seemed most appropriate. perk could look away back to his childhood, and see the boys and girls playing--himself with a handkerchief over his eyes, and trying to grope his way around so as to lay hold of the active dodgers who slipped out of his grip so adroitly. but he also remembered, with a chuckle, how as a rule it was always possible for the bandage to be lifted just a little, allowing the chaser slight glimpses of those whom he was supposed to trap, and catch hold of. "huh! no sech luck in this here game up 'bove the clouds," perk grumbled, as if much provoked because there was no chance to "peep"--that pea-soup sea covering so many miles in every direction was absolutely impenetrable; and their only resource would be to depend on their reliable instruments; keep their wits about them, so as to know how far they were going in a certain direction; and when relief came be able to about pick their position on the map. that was supposed to be jack's affair, and perk felt quite willing to trust his side partner to the limit; whatever jack decided on he was ready to make unanimous, and let it go at that; so why worry his poor brain when his pal was so much better equipped for handling things? still, he _did_ worry--it would not have been perk otherwise; for he found all manner of grewsome possibilities crowding into his mind such as must give him what he called "the willies." "hot-diggetty-dig!" he grumbled to himself "but this _is_ a nasty mixup we've tumbled into. jack, he says to me the weather reports tell haow there seems to be a bit of fog aformin' off to the mountings--say, if they calls this a _bit_ i wonder what a real smashin' big fog'd seem like. from the way she acts i'm commencin' to figger as haow she could keep this way right along fur a hull day'nd night, withaout fazin' any; an' that's no bunk either. s'pose it does that same, what's bound to happen to us dicks runnin' wild up here, i want to know?" that was always perk's trouble--anticipating things long before they were really due. he even figured out how, with gas and supplies running low, in the end they might have to make a perilous forced landing, taking most desperate chances of a calamitous smash. it kept him on "needles and pins" to have such a dire threat loom up so soon after their takeoff, with the work connected with their mission entirely in the future, and unaccomplished. how the minutes did seem to drag when they were pretty much in the dark as to the progress their ship was making; or whether they had managed to hold on to the course set by jack in the beginning. "huh! it's like gropin' 'raound yeour bedroom in the pitch dark, when wakin' up from a bad dream--kinder lose yeour head, an' get sorter nutty in the bargain. mebbe we're miles an' miles eouten the way, even gettin' wuss rattled right along; but say, that aint like my partner, to lose his head, an' run us into a blind sack. i jest _got_ to depend on jack to pull us through--aint i seen him come eout right-side up heaps o' times when things they had an _aw_ful black look?" taking himself to task after this fashion perk rose up out of his state of despondency, and actually forced himself to chuckle, as if things looked perfectly all right in his eyes; but there was something lacking in the sound, something superficial, and his seeming hilarity did not last long. thus it happened that once, when jack, believing they were attaining too great altitude, took a slide down, shutting off the power; perk felt positive he again caught a sound from somewhere that must certainly have come from the exhaust of an airship motor, running at full speed! the thought gave him a momentary thrill, it seemed so pregnant of accumulating possibilities in the line of hazards; his old fear lest they should have been surreptitiously followed by some secret enemy, in the shape of an ally of the men they sought to run down, returned in full force, to stab him most viciously. chapter xi the mystery airship "i say, jack!" perk called, making use of the friendly ear-phones. "what's eating you, buddy?" demanded the other, who must have known from his comrade's shifting about so much there was something amiss. "did yeou hear it?" asked perk, anxiously. "you mean that sound in the fog pack, don't you?" jack countered. "yeah, yeou said it, partner--i kinder guess naow it was a ship up here in this same sea we're buzzin' through, don't yeou?" "couldn't be anything else, because we're thousands of feet away from ground," jack admitted; and somehow it gave his chum a feeling of relief to notice how his voice showed no signs of sudden alarm. "as haow would yeou make it eout to be--some bewildered air-mail pilot loose in his bearin's, and shootin' ahead, thinkin' he could get somewhere right speedy, so's to find his course agin?" "not any, perk; and you'll realize that much if you figure things out in a matter-of-fact way. they don't have greenhorns in the air-mail service, or carrying passengers on the big lines--every applicant for a job has got to have a thousand hours at least in the air, and even at that he isn't reckoned to have won his spurs. if such an experienced flier got balled up in this fog blanket he'd do just what we're carrying out--depend utterly on his instruments. his compass would tell him he could never regain his course by flying _due east_!" "that's what he's adoin' then, yeou figger, eh, jack?" "sure thing, boy--he's directly behind us, and getting closer right along, for the sounds keep growing louder." "guess that's so, partner--i kinder had an idee he was on aour tail. what's the answer, jack?" "another dive, maybe two in fact, so as to leave him this ceiling to himself. we can climb again, buddy, after he's passed us, and pushes further on his way. that's the only sensible thing to do." perk had been allowing his mind to picture a battle royal up there in cloudland, amidst the fog mists, where machine-guns might rattle just as years ago they always did when bitter foes over on the french border came in contact, while bent on forays that took them on long air voyages, to bomb forbidding ammunition dumps, and thickly manned trenches back of no man's land. in imagination he had already heard the terrible long roll being sounded by the chattering quick-firing guns; with a hail of missiles sweeping all around them, like a swarm of enraged hornets as experienced in his own boyhood days. but jack, who kept his imagination under better control, did not look at things in the same way--his idea was not to accept the gage of battle when diplomacy and clever tactics could shift it on to some future date, when the chances might be more in their favor. what a partner to have at your side when things looked more or less dubious--perk drew a long breath as of relief, and inwardly blessed the day he paired up with jack ralston. there, once more they were shooting almost straight down into that bewildering sea of fog. it could not but give even seasoned perk the thrill of his life, as he contemplated what would happen should they dash against some isolated mountain crag or peak, while rushing along at this tremendous speed. he held his breath during the score of seconds they occupied in thus seeking another ceiling. then the quivering ship, under jack's skillful guidance, glided into a level course, and perk breathed naturally once more. while the swift descent continued he had listened intently, and was overjoyed to note how the distinct clamor of the other plane's motor gradually grew fainter, thus proving that they must be increasing the distance separating the two hidden airships. jack, one eye on his altitude instrument, even brought about another dip, during which perk failed to catch even the faintest mutter of a working motor; which fact seemed to prove beyond dispute their object had been achieved--the unseen flying craft had been given all rights to that upper ceiling, and all danger of a chance collision in the sky lanes was avoided, at least for the time being. they were still heading into the east, with a shade running toward northeast, as though jack continued to hold fast to his belief they were following the proper course. it required the most wonderful grasp upon the situation, as perk well knew, to keep going so confidently through such an ocean of dense fog, utterly unable to see any obstacle threatening them ahead. perk, absolutely content to leave all matters of this sort in the hands of the partner who had never as yet failed him in a pinch, found himself wondering what that decision, given so assuredly by his companion, might signify--if not a lost air-mail pilot, then who could the unknown voyager, shooting so recklessly through the pea-soup sea, be? they were again ascending, proving that jack understood what additional chances for a mishap they were tempting at the lower level, and wished to play safe as soon as he could do so with the unknown ship having passed on into the unseen vacuum ahead. again did the temperature approach close to the freezing point, and no wonder, with their ship soaring at such a height; but in that part of the mountainous country they must expect to find lofty uplifts mounting to the clouds, many thousands of feet above all comfortable atmosphere. perk busied himself in moving around, following such duties as devolved on his shoulders while his partner handled the stick. his chief concern lay in the direction of finding out just when the dense vapor began to form a thin coating of ice on the wings. with the coming of such an insidious enemy their danger increased ten-fold, since by degrees it would add enough weight to the already heavily laden ship as to force it down all too speedily, with what hidden perils lying in wait below as only a lively imagination could vision. still that question remained unanswered--try as he might perk seemed unable to successfully grapple with so puzzling and knotty a problem--if not a mail pilot off his course, nor yet some enemy trying to overtake, and run them down in midair, then who could it be? with perk bewildered the matter must inevitably settle down to one well practiced means for finding the answer to the enigma--"ask jack--he knows"--a formula as simple as anything could be, also shifting all responsibility to other shoulders. perk went at it again, and asked for light. "mebbe naow, partner," he called out, "it might be yeou guessed this crazy flier up yonder was some madcap pilot atryin' to beat the record goin' east from coast to coast; or else a locoed lad carryin' a passenger who'd lose his hull fortune if so be he didn't land in wall street inside so many hours." jack laughed, as though amused at these vague stabs--he knew what the other had in his mind by going on in this fashion. "just fishing again, eh, perk--want to know what i think covering the game, isn't that so? well, listen, and i'll put a flea in your ear." "go to it, partner--i'm agreeable, an' wantin' to be informed," perk hastened to say. "among those documents i examined there was one fact i laid some stress on, which consisted of a statement that the secret service man who sent his report in, and then seemed to disappear utterly from the knowledge of all men, declared it to be his opinion these hideout big guns in the criminal world, working under our old friend slippery slim garrabrant, had some sort of an _airship_, with which they were doing a rattling good business--perhaps you slipped up on that particular fact; but i figured we might run across that plane, sooner or later, and have considerable bother with the same." "hot-diggetty-dig! then jack, you mean it could a been that crate we heard abeatin' time on aour tail; an' mebbe chasin' us like hot beans--tell me, is that what hits you so hard, matey?" "i have a pretty strong idea it was their ship, covering a well-known course from the coast to this valley in the rocky unknown territory too rough even to have been explored, as it was believed to be worthless for even mining purposes. as to whether those aboard were trying to strike us in the fog, that's still a mystery, and must remain such for the present." "then do yeou guess they knowed we was ahead on the same track, eh, jack, ole hoss?" "remember perk, that as far as we know they didn't change their ceiling at any time--just kept booming away at the same level. that being the case they couldn't have heard the sound of our own motor working, as their exhaust would deafen them completely; for we only caught the racket behind us when we were shooting the shoot, with our engine shut-off." "good enough for us, buddy--then we got a clear field ahead, an' c'n foller aour own plans right along." "for the time being; but don't forget we've got rough sledding ahead. it all depends on how long we'll be held fast in the grip of this accursed fog pack. running blind isn't a very satisfactory way of getting along, especially when you only know the country through rude charts that may be all right, and then again sprinkled with errors that are bound to be full of danger to us." "hit an' miss, jack, we're used to takin' the chances--it's all a part o' the followin' we're rappin' in. we jest got to do aour best, an' leave the rest--aint i been adoin' that same mighty near all my whole life? an' seems like little ole perk he's still on deck, able to eat his three good meals a day--whenever he c'n git the same." "it's after midnight, perk." "so it be, partner; an' we muster gone a good many hundred miles since jumpin' off--strikes me we orter be clost to the goal we had in aour minds; if so be we been keepin' on a di-reck course, with no wabblin' to check us aout." "i figure that way myself," replied jack; "but nothing can be done to make certain until conditions change for the better." "which would mean we got some hours to kill, 'fore mornin' comes along to give us a show fur aour money, eh, jack, ole boy?" "there's only one way to do that," snapped the other; "which is by circling around, keeping our altitude, and within a range of say fifty miles; and that's what i'm aiming to start doing right now." chapter xii when the dawn broke when jack thus decided it good policy to start riding that gigantic circle, reducing their speed at the same time, he knew it was really the only course left to them in order to kill time, until there arose a change in weather conditions, and the coming of daylight. it would require the utmost skill and vigilance combined, thus to keep going over about the same line of travel, with naught to depend upon save his reliable instruments, aided by the deductions he must be continually making, with his eyes on the compass, the speed indicator, altimeter, and kindred apparatus by means of which, in conjunction, a clever pilot may cut circles around an objective at will. all this when he has daylight to assist him, and can see the distant ground beneath; but when blinded by both fog and intense darkness it is "a horse of another color" entirely, and if successfully carried out may be considered on a par with a near-miracle. "he c'n do it, if anybody's able," faithful perk was assuring himself, as he sat and watched the other go through with motion after motion, doubtless mentally figuring up knotty little problems in arithmetic that would either prove the accuracy of his general plan of campaign, or cause him to correct any faulty upsets. "gee whiz! if on'y we could a climbed on that gink's tail, an' follered him to where he was agoin', what a soft snap it'd been," perk was telling himself, as he imagined them climbing back to the level followed by the "mystery ship," and keeping on at just a certain distance, where their presence would not be betrayed by the commotion they caused; "but it's a hull lot too late neow to think o' tryin' that ere stunt aout; so what's the use figgerin' any more? 'sides, they aint no chanct for even a pilot what knows his beans 'raound this pesky country, to drop daown, so long's this soup hangs over aour heads, under aour feet, an' plays the devil with things gen'rally. jack's got it all laid aout, an' we're on aour way to pike's peak--er bust--mebbe so its jest plain _bust_!" as the time drew on perk found himself engaged in a peculiar game of guessing as to what the character of the ground below would turn out to be when they were given a blessed chance to view the same by the dispersal of the fog, and the coming of broad daylight. he knew what it meant to be hovering over mountainous country, where all manner of weird canyons and dry water courses could be traced on the rough landscape--secluded haunt of the rocky mountain sheep, or big-horn; the savage silver-tip bear known also as the grizzly, most dreaded wild beast of the entire americas, the claws of whom the indians of the west always prized as mementos of their individual valor, when slain at close quarters, with the warrior living to tell the story of his triumph. then, too, he could imagine vast herds of the now almost extinct buffalo, seeking shelter and grazing during the winter in some sheltered valley among these same mountain ranges, where green grass might be found in abundance even during blizzard weather conditions. once he gave full play to his fertile imagination, and perk would even forget the passage of time; and this was just as well, since nothing he could do would alter their situation in the slightest degree; besides, it prevented him from worrying, as he so often did. along about three o'clock--as he knew by consulting his wrist watch for the twentieth time since their start--perk had another little bright thought--what was to hinder them from having a nice snack, just to kill time, and cause them to feel stronger for whatever might come along later on? accordingly he got out a certain small packet which he knew contained some sandwiches he had paid their waiter to have made up for them, as a souvenir of the much esteemed little restaurant in san diego, city of the dons. sitting there, and still keeping an observing eye first on jack, and then sweeping it around the array of instruments fastened to the black dashboard in front of the working pilot, perk enjoyed his little nightly repast as only a fellow with his splendid appetite might. when he nudged jack in the side, and offered him a tempting ham sandwich the other shook his head in the negative, as though he was quite too busy to take advantage of the offer. following this up he made gestures which perk interpreting understood him to signify he might alter his mind later on, when the conditions had changed a bit for the better. that was just like jack--he liked to eat, it was true, when hungry; but never allowed a mutinous stomach to cause him to take the slightest chance of neglecting his duty. so perk had to dine all by himself; but he generously kept one fair-sized sandwich for the time when his chum would feel like having a few bites; which might not be until he wished perk to take his place at the controls. it was a dreary round they were making now--like keeping time in the awkward squad in the training camp--going through all the motions without advancing the spark an atom--round and round in that big circle, as the hours dragged along on leaden feet, with perk growing fairly wild to end it all, even by accepting unusual risks. five o'clock came at last, and perk more than once strained his eyes in staring hard toward the east, hoping to be able to glimpse a faint sign of approaching dawn--just a peep that would make him feel better; but thus far all in vain. nor was he able to detect any let-up in the floating sea of murky fog--it hung about them most persistently, almost dense enough to be felt; indeed most of the time their faces were wet despite the fact that they were shut up in the closed cabin of their ship. "ev'rything must have an end," perk told himself about this time; "an' i kinder guess naow that ole snap sayin' must be so; anyway, here's hopin' afore long naow i'll be squintin' at the sun apeepin' above the rim o' the world over yonder in the--yeah, it's east, okay, the compass she tells it. gettin' sorter sleepy in the bargain; but shucks! nothin' doin' 'long that ere line till we're outen the woods, an' on ground safe'n sound agin." half-past five brought a little but welcome change in the monotonous situation. perk was duly thrilled to discover what he believed to be a dim gleam of light piercing the shrouded east, which he fondly hoped was caused by the near approach of the early dawn. he did not mention the welcome news to his ally, fearing lest it prove to be a mere stretch of that wonderful imagination of his, such as in times past had so frequently played him the saddest of tricks--no, it would really be wiser for him to bide his time, and make sure he was not turning out to be what he would call a "false alarm." despite his eager wish the faint light did not appear to increase to any extent; although perk knew it must surely be about time for the dawn to break, if it ever meant to dispel the miserable pall of wet fog that had been like a blanket during the whole night--saving the hour or so they spent on the way before it gathered around them. "if the tarnation thing gives me the merry ha! ha! neow, after i've shook hands with myself, i'll feel like jumpin' off, and tryin' aout my 'chute, that aint been aired for many a blue moon. but it stands to reason there _must_ be some sorter end to ev'ry night; an' i'll hold on a bit longer. gosh amighty! what wouldn't i give to feel jest a whiff o' wind caressin' my cheek when i pokes my nose outadoors--but no sech good fortune--we're still in the soup for keeps, jack 'nd me, wuss luck!" still it seemed as though his heart was set on seeing that dim line grow wider, and bringing with it fresh hopes of a change in the dull programme; judging from the way perk continued to stare toward where he knew from the compass lay the eastern heavens. jack flew on, apparently quite oblivious to the wild yearnings that kept gnawing at the heart of his comrade. thus far he had reason to believe they had continued on that circle, where fifty miles of running would fetch them back again to about where they had started to make a ring. he would fight it out on that line if it kept them going all the next day; but until they could see the ground, so as to find their bearings from certain landmarks expressly emphasized in the rude chart inherited from the missing brother of the service, it was utterly useless to expect to get anywhere. some little time afterwards perk, thinking to find out whether there could be a "whiff of fresh air" stirring outside, thrust his head from the partly open door, and sniffed eagerly. the result was highly satisfactory, for he instantly discovered a most delightful thing--there was not only the fresh cold air to be expected at such a high altitude, possibly ten thousand feet at the time; but, in addition there came across his feverish face the sensation of a genuine _breeze_, blowing, as he quickly found out, directly from the south. he could not resist keeping his head protruding, so as to make assurance doubly certain; and while thus engaged he chanced to turn and look toward the east again. something caught his eyes, and held him riveted, as if turned into a pillar of salt like lot's unfortunate, disobedient wife. "hot-diggetty-dig! if that ere aint the mornin' star i'll eat my hat!" perk told himself in great excitement. it was most thrilling news he carried back with him when he ducked inside the cabin once more--news he felt absolutely positive would break down that icy reserve of his companion; and cause jack to join him in giving vent to expressions of jubilation. "hey! c'n yeou beat it, partner?" he cried, as soon as he could get to the ear of his boon companion; and for the time being disdaining the help of the ear-phones; then he paused for breath, having in his excitement lost his grip, it appeared. "beat what?" roared the other, understanding from perk's actions, together with the exultant tone of his raised voice, that something out of the common must have come about. "breeze started up!" whooped perk, gulping in a supply of wind. "bully boy!" jack sent back at him, managing to make himself understood above all the racket of motor and propeller, which was some triumph, since he did not possess the lung power that perk boasted. "and--yeou c'n see the ole mornin' star off in the east, showin' the dratted fog pack she's a liftin' by hunks; so, as the dawn's at hand we'll be okay!" chapter xiii all thanks to simeon "bully again!" perk faintly heard his cool pal call out, against the row their motor exhaust was keeping up. there was considerable excitement in camp just about that time, although to be sure perk was showing most of the same. the fog was in retreat after all those tantalizing hours of holding the fort--there could no longer be any doubt concerning this fact. he could even see how it was being blown off toward the north by increasing puffs of agitated air; and meanwhile that line of pearly hue in the east was widening by spasms, until faint touches of rosy light painted the skyline as with the brush of a magician artist. perk had adjusted their useful ear-phones, for he felt confident they would want to exchange congratulations, in that the long and tedious night had finally come to an end, with what promised to become a "dandy" day opening up before them. jack laughed to himself when he actually caught his relieved brother pilot humming a fragment of a little popular love-song they had been hearing several times of late in the "talkies" they patronized when in old san diego; and which evidently had been echoing in perk's brain ever since; though if accused of "getting soft" the other would most certainly have indignantly denied the fact, and vowed he had never had a best girl--or any species of girl--in his whole natural life. so things continued to brighten more and more, with perk straining his vision from time to time in order to be the first to discover "land ahead,"--in other words sight the far-distant earth below them. it came at last, after he had thus stared as much as half a dozen times; and he had the proud satisfaction of informing his comrade of the interesting fact. there was a vein of triumph in perk's voice; one would easily think he must be a modern columbus announcing the discovery of a new world; and yet it had only been one solitary night since last they were in touch with their old friend _terra firma_--solid ground. just the same that had proven to be such a memorable night, so filled with thrills, and accumulated anxieties, so gloomy in the midst of the greatest fog pack in history, that really perk might be excused for showing undue jubilation over this, their ultimate deliverance. "hully gee! partner!" he called out suddenly; "i kin see it, that's right; an' say, she sure _does_ look good to me." "meaning the earth, i reckon, eh, perk?" "nawthin' less, buddy--fog's a climbin' aout like hot cakes--soon wont be a single wisp left, i take it. but gee! what a pictur' it makes--never did set my lamps on sech _turrible_ stuff afore--looks like ole nature had busted loose in tryin' to pile up rocks as big as skyscrapers in little ole new york, some o' 'em as big as the highest hill in the catskills. what a place--what a place, i'd say agin." "does look a bit rough," admitted the noncommittal jack, after himself taking a swift survey. "a bit rough--huh! yeou jest can't ekal it if yeou trips all over this rocky mountain country fur weeks, that's a fact, jack ralston. seems like we was abeatin' the record right along on this here jaunt--the thickest fog--the longest night--an' neow the beatenist country ever! if it keeps agoin' like that we're bound to run up against the wust gang o' holdup men that was ever heard of." "had that idea in my mind from the start, so it isn't going to surprise me much if it comes true," jack calmly informed him. about this time perk discovered that the last retreating phalanx of the late fog belt had passed from his sight, dissolving in thin air as it seemed. the early morning, as viewed from that great altitude, was most charming indeed, with those fleecy white cloudlets all around them. the speeding plane ducked in and out of the groups as though playing the old childrens' game of tag, or else hide-and-seek. perk himself likened the picture to the gridiron, being especially fond of football games as practiced along the coastal slope around thanksgiving time, and later on, when the east was battling with its chilly blizzards--in imagination he could readily picture their ship to be the man who had the pigskin bag held tightly under his arm, and kept darting this way and that, eluding the outstretched hands of would-be tacklers, and dodging all interference, on his wild dash to make a much needed goal. it gave him a delightful thrill to thus compare their passage with the one hero whom he most admired--the prodigy to whom his favorite college was indebted for their greatest victory, when defeat had seemed so perilously near. "take over the stick, perk; i reckon i'd feel better if i stretched my arms and legs a bit," the wearied pilot now announced; to which the other only too gladly acquiesced; for many times during the last few hours he had hung over his mate, as if trying to influence jack to change places. "yeah, an' jack, while yeou're 'bout it jest sample the grub--coffee's fine an' dandy, as well's steamin' hot. goes through yeou like 'lectricity in this cold atmosphere." "after i've had a good look through the glasses, to see if there's any sign of the targets brother simeon marked down on his rough pigeon carrier chart we're depending on to see us through." that was just like jack--duty always before pleasure. his empty stomach--the lovely view perk had been drinking in so eagerly--all such trivial matters must wait until he had attended to much more important ones. perk might have expected to hear him say what he did, since from long experience he was fully acquainted with his pal's methods of carrying out his business calls. perk also knew quite well that he could never claim to be such a spartan, since the "fleshpots of egypt" usually tempted him to take precedence, when it became a matter of choice between them. long and earnestly did jack examine the ground below. he had given perk instructions to make several long dips, each time flattening out again on a level keel; and during all this time he was engaged in staring through the magical lens that brought far distant objects so close he could even distinguish the character of the bark on such trees as came under his observation. at such times as they were moving on the level perk managed to also scan the scene below them. they had by now greatly reduced their distance from the rugged landscape, being not more than something like five thousand feet aloft; but stare as he might perk, even with his keen vision, was unable to discover a single moving object--it was as if they owned the whole world for the time being--a weird sensation that rather awed imaginative perk. about this time the one at the controls saw his companion keeping the glasses focussed on a certain point, as though he might have discovered something encouraging there--possibly an upstanding object such as had been noted on that invaluable if crude penciled map. "hot-diggetty-dig!" perk muttered to himself, as he felt his pulses quicken once more, "don't i jest hope he's struck ile--run acrost some piled-up crags that might a served simeon as a good marker. but great snakes! heow air we agoin' to drop daown anywhere when there aint nary a sign o' level ground as big as my red neckerchief; an' us a wantin' a stretch a hundred feet, long--as much more as we kin find?" so he tried to keep still while waiting to hear anything of interest jack might have to report. most certainly the other must have made some sort of discovery, or believed he had at least; for he continued to scrutinize that particular section of the rocky ground just ahead in a way that looked promising to his anxious partner. finally jack lowered the binoculars, with perk watching his face as if hoping to read good news reflected there. "no doubt about it, i'm glad to tell you, perk," jack was saying; and if there was a trifling vein of relief in his voice one could hardly wonder at such a thing, after their just passing such a wretched night, and flying blind through the long hours, with but faint prospects of striking their goal when the coming of dawn allowed of an observation. "hey! does that mean yeou got a squint o' somethin' worth while, partner?" cried perk, solicitously. "just what it does," the other assured him. "swing around in a circle, and i'll let you have a look for yourself, buddy." chapter xiv closing the gap accordingly perk swung off to the left, and banked sharply, thus starting on a turn that if pursued long enough would once more fetch them to the point from whence they had started the maneuver. "now i'll take hold again for a time, until you've had your look," announced jack, suiting the action to the word. while his mate manipulated the glasses jack coached him word by word, until perk finally uttered a cry of triumph. "i got it, partner, sure i have!" he was saying in great gladness. "can't hardly b'lieve my eyes, it sure seems like a reg'lar miracle--to think o' all we plugged through, an' was able to hit straight to the bullseye o' aour target--it dazes me to strike sech a wonderful happenin', that's right." "then you recognize it from the brief description he gave on the side of his tissue-paper chart, do you, perk?" "it caint be anythin' else, for a fack, buddy--there couldn't run two queer heaps o' rocks that look so much like a reg'lar ole-time castle on the rhine! yep, we done aourselves proud this time--meanin' _yeou_ did, jack, ahandling the stick so smartly. naow, what's next on the programme, tell me?" "you're to take hold once more, and keep circling that target, while i stow away a little chow; afterwards i'll run things while you stoke up. we must keep in mind that there's no occasion for any undue haste--we're out to get results, no matter how long we've got to hang around this part of the country. caution, and slow progress--those are to be our watchwords, perk." "i get yeou, partner," was all that the other remarked, as he once more laid down the binoculars, and proceeded to take over the controls. just the same perk knew full well jack was intending to warn him against one of his faults, that of starting off on some important mission without due regard for precautions--a failing that had cost perk dear more than a few times in the past, and which had never been fully eradicated from his system, no matter how gallantly he tried. now that the coast was clear, and he had made the discovery calculated to prove so fortunate, as well as useful, jack could think of other matters less important and yet really necessary. he got out their "bait-box,"--as perk always called the receptacle of their food supplies--and proceeded to enjoy a ham-sandwich, washed down with the hot coffee already sweetened, and with genuine cream added; thanks to perk's "pull" with that favorite waiter in the san diego restaurant, and whom he had mentally promised to reward some fine day, in a way commensurate with the service rendered. jack took his time. he always did when eating, and consequently never knew those qualms along the line of indigestion, which occasionally doubled poor, hasty perk up with such violence. moreover, he seemed to be enjoying his novel breakfast vastly, a fact that tickled the other more or less, for perk certainly did enjoy seeing others happy. from time to time they exchanged words. of course their talk was wholly connected with the serious business on which uncle sam had dispatched them, and which they were now following out as best they could. so early in the game it was of course wholly impossible to lay their plans save vaguely; as they picked up further information they could, as perk was fond of saying, "advance the spark," and build some sort of a structure calculated to bring down the enemy's fort in ruins, unless indeed, they managed to turn the tables on the two sleuths. as they thus chatted at their ease while swinging around in a succession of short circles, the centre of which was always that conical heap of jagged rocks perk humorously called castle thunder, the name of simeon balderson naturally came up. perk had himself been doing more or less pondering upon the unknown fate of the secret service man, who was, so jack had informed him, a most valued agent of the government. "i jest caint help awonderin' what made him fall daown on his job that a ways," he mentioned to his comrade; which of course was perk's method of trying to draw the other out, so as to imbibe jack's way of reasoning. "that must, as i said before," came the reply, "remain a dead mystery to us unless we happen to run across the answer while poking around. he was up against a tough bunch, and if they discovered what he was doing the chances are they'd put him out of their way in the easiest possible fashion--throwing him over some precipice, or shooting him full of holes. that'll come to us in the bargain, i reckon, if we're unlucky enough to slip-up, and fall into their hands." "huh! i cal'late these kiotes jest hate all government men like a cat does agettin' its feet wet," hazarded perk, shrugging his shoulders. "oh worse, far worse than that, buddy," jack assured him amiably; "they know how their lives are at stake, and to them a secret service man takes on the shape of a noose, or the electric chair. whenever it comes to a fight between the two of us, and that crowd, it's got to be to the death, with no mercy shown." "i savvy, partner," perk told him, firmly; "knowed that much right along. doant skeer me any, either, 'cause my life's been made up o' takin' chances--over in france in that ole sausage balloon company--then in circus stunts in a ricketty airship that _was_ always agoin' to blow up with us--after that servin' with the canadian mounties up in the northwest territory, like yeou know 'bout; and last but not least, the times i been with yeou ascootin' raound the hull country, ahaulin' in smugglers, bootleggers, flim-flam artists, bogus money-makers, check raisers, an' sech nasty fry. i jest dote on runnin' close chances--it's sure the life that suits gabe perkiser." "the first job we're going to tackle is along the line of making a safe and sane landing--you get that of course, perk?" continued practical jack. "nawthin' else, partner," answered the other, without hesitation; "seems like ever'thing depends on that same. but aint it like lookin' fur a needle in a haystack to reckon on findin' that ere one little patch o' level ground he wrote was the on'y place where a ship could come daown, an' not crash?" "i'm going to correct you there, brother," jack was saying; "there is yet another landing field, and even a much better one; but out of our reach, for according to simeon it lies _inside_ the hole-in-the-wall valley where these fugitives from the law have their hangout. he even so much as hinted that they had some kind of a plane themselves, which was in frequent use between this section of country, and certain cities where they had secret connections, and started much of their counterfeit stuff into circulation, to the mystification of the authorities, who could never seem to pick up their trail." "jest so, jack, ole hoss, the air doant ever leave a trail, which makes it right hard fur such fellers as us to get agoin' straight. ready to start on aour way, be yeou, partner?" "yes, but i want you to keep on using the glasses right along," jack told him. "if we had the misfortune to overlap that single open patch of ground, we'd be all at sea, and must double back, so as to go over the ground again, which would increase the chances of our being discovered, or heard by some of the outlaws possibly out hunting, or going to and fro." "i'll do my level best to hit on the mark, jack; jest go as slow as yeou kin, so's to gimme every chance to count. haow far 'bout do yeou figger goin' on this tack, i want to know?" "well, this target we've struck he said on his paper map was something like twenty miles away from the entrance to the hidden valley--you remember that of course, perk? the landing field, as we've got to call it from now on, would be some six or seven miles away from their haunt; and consequently i expect to cover twelve miles, more or less, before i'm looking to have you tell me you've sighted our goal. if ever you used those sharp eyes of yours to advantage, now's the time for an extra effort, partner." "leave it to me, boy; i aint agoin' to fail yeou, not if i have to stare my ole peepers aout o' focus for keeps. drop daown some ways, jack--less chance o' aour bein' seen; an' it's goin' to help me a heap in hittin' that bit o' level stretch. cuckoo! that's the ticket--we're droppin' like a rocket-stick after she's shot her bolt. naow for to get my eagle eyes daown to business." chapter xv a clever landing a brief time passed, and then perk called out excitedly: "say, i kinder b'lieve i kin glimpse thet same pesky hangaout--looks like some sorter mounting pass, sech as he drawed in his map, where they went in an' kim aout; but they's a kinder haze ahangin' over yonder that makes it hard to be dead sure. if we get it araoun' here it'll hide us from bein' seen. the wind up here's hittin' us in the face, too, which helps some in the bargain." "never mind about the hideout--that'll all come later on. just now it's that landing-field we need most of all--keep your glass on the ground just ahead, perk." ten seconds later the observer uttered a sudden exclamation. "get a bite?" demanded jack, just about ready to swing around, as it seemed taking too hazardous chances to continue their advance any further. "kinder guess i sure have," perk told him; and then proceeded to direct the eyes of the pilot on a certain spot over which the ship was then passing. "you struck it that time, buddy!" exclaimed jack, evidently mightily relieved in his mind; for a crisis was upon them, with a change in their movements absolutely essential, unless they meant to give the whole scheme away, and wreck their plan of campaign, which was not to be considered at all. "yeah," perk went on to add, more confidently than before; "that's it, for a certain_tee_--the on'y place where a ship kin drop with a ghost o' a show to keep from bein' smashed to flinders. goin' doawn, are yeou, jack?" there was no need for the other to make answer, since already the big fokker tri-motored ship was dropping steadily. how fortunate for them that just at that critical moment nature herself was working overtime in their favor--the wind veering until it came directly in their faces; while that little haze acted as a veil to conceal them from the hidden valley lookout--if indeed any such happened to be posted, to give warning should danger menace the fugitive gangsters. perk waited, and watched, his tense face betraying the natural anxiety he must just then be enduring. it was indeed no small danger that faced them, for only a most skillful pilot would be able to successfully land a great airship on such a precarious and scanty stretch of fairly level ground. a very small thing that could hardly be avoided, save through a near miracle, would suffice to throw the heavy plane off balance, and bring about a wreck that must interfere greatly with their mission, if not utterly ruin every hope of success. yes, perk could easily be excused for feeling a tenseness around the region of his staunch heart--a tightening of the nerves and sinews--a halt in his free breathing, all of them occurring simultaneously; for the most sanguine of watchers would have easily said the feat was beyond human capacity. yet there was jack going about the job with apparently the same _sang froid_ that it was his custom to show when coming down from the clouds, to settle upon the almost perfect landing green of the big san diego airport. "say, what _wouldn't_ i give right naow if on'y i could ketch that confident spirit my best pal's got mixed up in his mind an' heart?" so perk was telling himself as he saw the deftness of the touch shown by the hand at the controls, as well as the wonderful response the perfect mechanism aboard the fokker displayed. now jack held her head on, with the ground almost within reach--beyond, the narrow stretch extended just about a hundred feet; and in this space he must bring his charge up with a round turn; for should the ship keep on she would assuredly be wrecked beyond repair. the tail came in contact, and bounded up again, to immediately repeat the manoeuvre; the wheels gliding roughly along, with the body of the ship bouncing from side to side, after the usual custom when the landing is at all inclined to be a bit off-color. the motors had ceased working, and the spinning propeller had in consequence commenced to whirl less violently. perk allowed himself to suck in his first good breath in a score of seconds. "glory be!" he was saying to himself, lost in admiration and sheer wonder--"dang my hide if he ain't agoin' to make it, i do declare--did yeou ever in yeour born days see the like o' that--bet there aint another pilot west o' the mississip could a done it that qsmart--hot-diggetty-dig! we're astoppin', as sure as anything we air. wow!" as the big plane ceased to move forward and came to a stand less than five feet from the terminus of the smooth ground, perk, utterly overcome, lay back inert, "weak as a cat," as he himself afterwards described his condition. "and that's that!" was all jack allowed himself to comment; just as he might have said in the days when he was a barnstormer, and 'chute leaper at county fair gatherings--after sailing down from a five-thousand foot ceiling, clinging to his decrepit parachute, and making a soft landing in some ploughed field. they both sat there as if to recover their breath. no longer did the roar of the exhaust break upon their hearing--all was marvelously still round about them--the rocks reared their crests high above their heads, and looking more cruel and pitiless than when seen at a distance. perk shuddered as he noted the innumerable projections that stuck out almost like giant needles in a cushion, any one of which, had its point come in contact with the now stranded ship, must have played havoc with its structure. "huh! wake me up somebody, wont yeou kindly?" perk finally broke out, as if possessed by the idea he must have been dreaming such a descent could be put through successfully. "there sure never was sech a crackin' good drop as the one yeou jest made, pal jack--i hand yeou the palm for luck an' skill combined; an' i hopes as heow i have yeou fur my side kick as long as i'm in this here flyin' trick!" jack turned a beaming face on him at hearing this fulsome compliment. "nice of you to say what you did, perk, old chum;" he remarked, with a nod of his head; "but you greatly overrate the landing--all any one had to do was to pick out the safest way, and stick to it through thick and thin. easy as falling off a log, let me tell you, buddy." "oh! yeah; _but yeou stuck_!" perk thrust back, as though after all that clinched the whole matter, which it undoubtedly did. "next thing we've got to do, perk, is to check up, so as to find out whether the ship was injured any by contact with rocks." "right yeou are there, partner," the other chimed in, quickly; "but i kinder guess as haow we aint got much to worry over that-a-ways, 'cause she kim daown so easy like, it wouldn't hardly abroken an egg." "the proof of the pudding is always in the eating," wary jack told him; "and we know one of the weakest parts of a ship lies in the undergear. let's get a move on, and find out what's what." accordingly they both started to look things over, backed by a host of past similar checkings. it could be only a superficial examination; but just the same the result pleased them immeasurably, for never the least damage could they hit upon. perk was almost delirious with joy, and wonder as well. "i never would a b'lieved that stunt could be pulled off if i hadn't seen the miracle carried aout with my own lamps," he kept saying half to himself, as he finished his part of the survey. "jest won-der-ful, i'd call it, an' let her go at that, which doant tell half the story." jack, having had the severe strain removed from his mind, now consented to finish his breakfast, the natural hunger of a healthy young chap asserting its prerogative. accordingly, since perk also confessed to feeling a "bit peckish" they sat down on the ground, with the coffee container between them, and a heap of the "ham-an' sandwiches" which had come from their favorite restaurant. "as soon as we get through this necessary business, perk, we'll stow some of the grub that's left over in our pockets for an emergency. after that we'll pick out such traps as we may need in our game, and trot along--though judging from the looks of this same ravine it'll be only a figure of speech, because we'll find it necessary to crawl like a couple of snails most of the way." "yeah! that sounds more like it, buddy," agreed perk, eying the depression with a scowl, as though he hardly liked the nature of the job ahead. chapter xvi up against a silver-tip there was some difficulty when it came to selecting such things as might prove most handy in their difficult task. several had to be laid aside as being too bulky and cumbersome; for weight would count heavily against them in forcing a passage through the thick growth in the ravine; as well as later when they struck the mighty upheaval of rocks on the side of the mountain, below the natural pass into the hole-in-the-wall valley. those things they had selected were divided up, and made into two packages of about equal weight. when jack did not happen to be looking perk managed to slip several articles into his pack, evidently begrudging their lack; which he considered only right and proper, since his shoulders and back must stand for the extra strain. "an' if we do need 'em, which is like enough," he told himself, as if in apology for his deceit; "they might jest prove _life-savers_--yeou never kin tell haow the cat's agoin' to jump; an' they do say as a stitch in time saves yeour whole bacon." having attached these bundles securely to their backs the pair were ready to start forth on their perilous errand--matching their wits and courage against the lawless spirits who had defied the power of uncle sam, believing it would take the whole u. s. army to dislodge them from such an isolated and natural fortress. "first thing we've got to remember, partner," said jack, softly, as they began to plunge into the wild growth that filled the deep ravine from one side to the other, "is to get our bearings as we advance." "gosh amighty! jack, is that a go, when all we got to 'member is haow we kept aheadin' 'long this ere coulie. i doant see haow anybody could go astray in sech a canyon as this same." "to be sure," jack assured him, "that's true as long as this is the only old waterbed we'll have to follow; which it isn't, if you remember those directions simeon sent in. once we became a bit rattled as to which channel to follow, and it'd ruin all our calculations--the element of uncertainty has wrecked more clever plans than anything agoing. more than that, we must turn around and stare at the way things look from the other direction; because we'll be heading back to our camp when we need to follow our trail. you know lots of landmarks may seem okay in going, which you'd never recognize when coming from the opposite quarter." "yeah! i knowed that too, buddy," affirmed perk, with a grin; "read 'baout the same lots o' times as a kid, when i used to soak in stories o' them old days in kentucky, that they called the dark an' bloody ground----daniel boone, simon kenton, harrod an' them forest rangers picked that trick up from the shawnee injuns they used to fight. we'll face the other way heaps o' times, an' make picters o' the scenery on aour minds; that's okay with me, jack." for some little time they had all they could do to push their way along, so matted were the vines and the underbrush, so extremely rough the footing. twice perk had stumbled, and come near having an ugly fall; he even managed to skin his right knee painfully by coming in contact with a rock; but never a grunt did he emit, accustomed as he was to taking such things as part of the game. "mebbe naow this is what i get fur loadin' me daown so heavy," he told himself, under his breath; "but jest the same i aint ameanin' to throw a single thing away; 'cause that'd sure turn aout to be jest what we needed most to save our skins." later on, as they stood still and rested a bit, perk again confided in his companion; he always did seem to suck more or less consolation out of these frequent "chinnings," as they afforded him opportunities to see things through jack's eyes, an advantage perk greatly appreciated. "more i get thinkin' 'baout the slick way that same simeon took a carrier pigeon 'long with him, so he could be sure o' gettin' valuable information into the hands o' his boss, the more i admire the ole gink. i knowed as haow the french used them birds over across the water, when we was afightin' the heinies; but say, tryin' sech a game aout in the secret service was a new dodge on me." "both clever, and original, perk," assented the other, fastening on his pack once more; "but then, as i remember simeon balderson he was always different from the common truck of the force. i'll be right sorry if anything has happened to him--wiped out by these devils up here, just because they naturally hate all service men." thus they continued to stumble along, sometimes one in the lead, and then later on the other would forge ahead, just as circumstances brought things about. there was no attempt to make any kind of speed, since time did not count in what they were trying to accomplish--far better to spend a week, even two, than to ruin everything by some incautious move. from time to time sounds would come to their ears, mostly ahead; but in every case these could be set down as proceeding from birds, or small animals that may have discovered their approach, and were showing signs of restlessness. once, however, a faint report drifted to their ears through some slant in the breeze, being possibly a mile or more distant, which both recognized as a gunshot--the only evidence of human beings that thus far they had discovered. it acted as a spur, making them remember what they were up against; but perk only smiled, as though he cared very little how soon they ran into the jaws of trouble, and matched their talents against those they sought. then they had a severe shock--it came almost without the least warning too, which made it more stunning. a rustling in the underbrush--what sounded like a snarl or a grunt; and as they flashed a startled look in that direction, a huge shaggy figure uprose to betray the presence of a genuine rocky mountain grizzly of un-heard-of proportions, standing erect. to make the matter all the more serious the frightful beast was almost directly in their way, blocking any further movement along the ravine. besides, while they carried arms, it was highly imprudent on several accounts for them to dream of using the same. in the first place their automatics would seem but trivial instruments when used against such a monster, said to have the nine lives of a cat; and often known to still be in fighting trim after receiving a volley of lead from powerful modern sporting rifles. then again if they were forced to fire, even though lucky enough to down their hairy enemy, the sound of the discharges was certain to be heard by those in hiding, and would serve to turn the entire settlement out searching for the cause of the rattling sounds. "hot-diggetty-dig! did yeou _ever_ see sech a buster o' a bar?" perk was gasping, as he stared aghast; "an' the tarnel beast's startin' to move this way, as sure as shootin', jack!" "we've just got to clear out!" came the ultimatum from jack. that was easy to say, but what chance would they have against such a powerful beast, evidently with some reason to hate all two-legged bipeds, having possibly at some time in the past been severely wounded by such a creature, and holding a vendetta against all the clan. he could break through the worst tangle with ease, while they must be held up, and their progress impeded frightfully. jack hit a brilliant idea almost on the instant. "follow me, perk!" he shrilled, tersely; "we've got to climb a tree! let's go, partner!" "which tree?" perk demanded, as he kept close at the other's heels. "over this way--got limbs low down--silver-tips can't climb a tree, i've heard. hurry--hurry!" there was indeed need of haste, for they could distinctly hear the smashing advance of the big brute; also catch the growling as he pursued the fleeing pair who had dared invade his private hunting patch. neither of them dared cast a single look back, lest they stumble over an outcropping rock, or get entangled in some running vine, such as fairly covered the ground in certain places, to serve as traps to incautious feet. jack managed to arrive at the selected tree ahead of his mate, and swinging around to the further side, so as to keep out of the other's way, commenced to lift himself into the lower branches. this was no slight task, seeing how heavily they were both loaded down with those bundles fastened to their backs; but it is wonderful what fright can accomplish under similar conditions; and perk was already pawing at the other side of the friendly tree, wild with eagerness to hoist himself far enough from the ground so as to avoid contact with those cruel claws of the monster, of which he had doubtless heard thrilling stories concerning their length, and sharpness. nearer came the crashing sounds, and the growls; but by great good luck the angry beast arrived just too late to attain his end; for while he reached up all of ten feet perk believed, he could not more than barely touch the lower foot of the climber, which was instantly drawn beyond his reach. for a full minute, more or less, neither of them could spare the breath to make any sort of comment over their narrow escape--it was enough for them to know they had nothing to fear immediately from the irate silver-tip, still standing erect, and emitting those hoarse growls, as if to tell them what he would do if only they ventured within his reach. then perk made a slight move, and jack feared he might be about to kick at the beast's elevated snout, which would only irritate bruin a great deal more. "keep quiet, and don't do anything to stir him up more than he is already," was the way jack cautioned his running mate, knowing the impulsive nature of perk only too well. "he may fade away when he sees he can't touch us. just get your breath back, pal perk, and wait up." "okay, brother," replied the other, as though recognizing the soundness of his comrade's doctrine. but somehow or other the big beast showed no signs of intending to break the siege by "fading out," as jack had termed it; he continued to move around the base of the tree, now on all fours, and again raising up to his full height with ferocious growls if either of them so much as made a slight move. "gee whiz! he sure is some wheeze, i'd say, jack," perk remarked, after some little time had passed, with no change whatever taking place. "what if the ole geezer takes a notion to tent aout here at aour tree--say, that'd be the limit, bet yeour boots it would!" then he fell silent for a spell, as though mentally calculating the extent of such a calamity on their fortunes. chapter xvii perk shows his hand "let me tell yeou, partner, that same bar he's some stickin'-plaster all right!" a full half hour must have passed without any noticeable change in the conditions. the obstinate beast stayed close to the foot of the tree, never making any attempt at climbing the same; just as though he might be well aware of his own shortcomings. a number of times, when one of the prisoners among the branches chanced to make some sort of movement, in order to relieve the numbness that had gripped his legs, the bear would exhibit the same ferocity he had shown all through the siege. "the old chap certainly must have a long debt to pay toward somebody, and is taking it out on us, perk," ventured jack, breaking the silence once more. "but it doant seem so much like a joke as at first," grumbled perk, disconsolately. "what in thunder'd we do if he camped aout on us, mebbe fur a hull day'nd night--gorry! wouldn't we be in a pickle, though--nawthin' to eat'r drink it might be, an' so sore in aour bodies we'd feel like howlin'." "oh! let's hope it doesn't turn out so serious as all that," jack soothed him somewhat by saying confidently. "what bothers me most is how we're going to do any sort of business, with that chap hanging out in this neighborhood, and likely to drop in on us any old minute." "drat the luck, any way!" growled the greatly annoyed perk, aghast at the very idea of slow starvation; with that fat old husky camped at the foot of their tree refuge, daring them to set a foot on the ground. the morning was wearing away by degrees, with the sun already peeping down into the deep ravine, from its more lofty position in the heavens. perk was now busily engaged cudgeling his brains in the endeavor to conjure up some species of scheme by which they might have a chance to rid themselves of their four-footed jailor. all at once jack saw the other start to feeling of his person eagerly as though some dazzling idea had burst upon his mind. as a rule these occasions were few and far between, and yet perk had been actually known to originate some amazing schemes, that perhaps did not always turn out as successfully as he himself might have fancied would be the case. "i could a sworn i fetched it along, thinkin' there might be some pesky rattlers in this here coulie," jack heard him muttering; and then an exclamation of delight announced that whatever he had in mind it had eventually turned up in one of his numerous pockets. "hey! what's in the wind now, i want to know?" jack demanded, in idle curiosity, since he hardly anticipated that his chum would be able to offer any plausable plan for ridding themselves of that intolerable nuisance encamped below decks. perk was holding something up exultantly, and jack could see it appeared to be a small _flask_--such things were very common nowadays, with prohibition in the land; but as he had never known his mate to use strong spirits jack naturally felt more or less surprise to see such a bottle stowed away on perk's person. but the word "rattlers" may have given jack a slight inkling of what it all meant. "fetched this here stuff 'long, jack, in case either o' us ran afoul o' a pizen snake," came the explanation; "kinder do hate to waste the same on sech a wretched beast; but seems like it might get us outen this nasty scrape." jack was forced to laugh. "quite an original joke you'd play on old eph, i take it, partner--get the poor stick drunk, you mean, of course; but what makes you reckon he'd take to the bottle; for of course you couldn't lean down far enough to pour the stuff into his open mouth--that'd be a heap too dangerous, i'd think." perk gave him a reproachful look as he hastened to explain. "say, i aint _quite_ that silly, i hopes, jack ole hoss, as to give that critter half a chanct to nab me. i got another idee, it happens, such as ought to pan aout too, if i kin do what i want without spillin' the beans, or in this case the bootleg stuff." "sounds good to me, perk," jack told him as if to encourage further explanations. "if you don't expect him to swallow it what then, partner?" "jest yeou watch yeour uncle perk get busy, boy, that's all." long before this both of them had relieved their aching shoulders of the weighty packs they were carrying, attaching the same safely to certain broken limbs of the tree that came in conveniently enough. this allowed of a certain amount of freedom; and so perk was able to wriggle down several feet, his movements as usual attracting the observation of the jealous guardian, for the great shaggy beast stood upright, with his snout elevated menacingly. "be careful now, and don't give him half an opening to nab your foot, brother," warned jack. "shucks! he aint got a chinaman's chanct to do that same, jack. hey! ole boy, do yeou smell it a'ready, to be makin' sech faces at me? well, here goes to wet yeou daown nice an' easy like." with that perk leaned over still more--his hand holding the pocket flask was just a foot or so above the extended snout of the bear, when the first trickle of the liquor started to fall, striking the animal's nose, and running down on the heavy hair covering his neck and back. "glory be! look at the scamp openin' his mouth and puttin' aout his red tongue to ketch some o' the drops!" cried the excited perk. "hey! don't be so het up an' greedy, mister; i sure aint atryin' to get yeou soaked--seems like he's quite took to the bottle, don't it, jack?" "like an old toper, for a fact, brother," the other assured him, laughing as he spoke. "i've heard how the young black bears over in yellowstone park come up to tourists, and beg for some spirits, to which their taste turns; but i didn't know a big old tramp like this had a leaning that way. i see you're trying to keep him from swilling it down, perk; must have some object in letting the stuff run all over his back as you're doing?" "kinder think i have got sech a neat little scheme, partner; on'y yeou wait up till i put the finishin' touch to the game--proof o' the puddin's in the eatin' o' the same, yeou know." "i'm waiting to be shown, buddy--you know your hand, and can play it best. go to it then, and i'll be the judge to say if it pans out okay or not." perk was now draining the flask of the last drop; for when he made up his mind to do a thing he always went the limit. "there, that finishes my snake-bite cure, more the pity," he kept telling his fellow prisoner, with a vein of keen regret in his voice. "no, yeou jest caint have another drop yeou greedy rascal. seems like yeou made things warm enuff for two ginks what never did any harm to yeou or the fambly; an' now suh, the tables got to turn--i'm figgerin' on makin' the likes o' yeou as hot as tophet, that's right, old eph." still holding out the empty flask as though to keep the bear from dropping down on all-fours, perk carefully took out a match, and held it poised between fingers and thumb. then it was that what he really meant to do clicked in the mind of jack; it rather staggered him in the bargain, so that he uttered an exclamation that told the other he had divined his secret. "kinder guess yeou're on to my curves, buddy," observed perk; "well, here she goes, an' hopin' luck comes aour way." he thereupon scraped the head of the match along a certain part of the tree trunk--several times was this repeated, but all to no avail, as the friction did not appear to be brisk enough to start things going. then perk went back to first principles, and gave a quick scrape down the seat of his trousers; whereupon there followed a tiny flash, and the match began to burn brightly. waving the bottle, and letting a drop or two ooze from its mouth perk, watching his opportunity cast the burning match directly on top of the bear's shaggy neck. he must have held his breath with suspense while so doing, for he felt as though he were casting the die, with everything at stake. "wow! it's a go, perk, you wonderful schemer!" burst from jack, as he saw a blue flame start up, where the booze had fallen on the thick, rusty looking coat of the astonished animal, instantly increasing as the liquor caught. both of them watched with staring eyes to see what followed; but they did not have long to wait. the bear dropped down on all four feet, and twisting his head around commenced snapping viciously at the spot where he already began to feel uncomfortably warm. this caused him to burn his tongue, and from that moment it took on all the aspect of a _circus_ to the two spectators lodged there amidst the branches of that friendly tree; although to be sure it was an altogether different kind of situation to the astonished bear. the animal developed a surprising amount of agility, twisting and turning in a frantic endeavor to bite at the object that was giving him such a queer sensation as of pain. but all his antics had no effect on the fire in his coat, which was continually extending its circulation by streaks and bounds. "go to it, buddy--call aout the hull fire department an' smother the blaze, or yeou're sure a goner. lookit him arollin' on the ground to beat the band--aint that cute though, partner--jest like sensible human bein's would do if they had their heads 'bout 'em when on fire. but it aint agoin' to help the pore ole dick any, either. there, he's a runnin' off like fun, headin' fur some sorter water-hole he knows 'bout, i kinder guess. what a sight that is, jack ole geezer; but jest the same i'm sorry 'bout that snake pizen stuff, i sure am--didn't canc'late to have to use it on sech game." "that's all right, perk; it'd saved the cause, and possibly our lives in the bargain. i'd call it well spent, if you asked me," jack told him. "say, look at him goin' licketty split, like the ole nick was after him, blazin', an' with spurts o' smoke bustin' outen his singed hide. he sure enough played outen his class that time, i figger. mebbe, naow, he'll cut an' run next time he meets gentlemen o' aour stripe." the spectacle was so extremely ludicrous to perk that he writhed and twisted about as if seized with a fit; so, too, did he threaten to burst out into loud laughter only that jack gave him due warning of what dire consequences would be apt to follow any indiscretion along those lines, which sobered the hilarious one, and brought him back to sanity. "kin we climb daown outen this tree naow, partner?" asked perk, after he could no longer discern any further sign of the badly singed king of the mountain valleys; "i'll be tickled pink to be able to stretch my legs a bit, seein' they're so stiff an' sore; but it shore was too bad 'bout losin' my precious snake pizen cure--hopes we aint a goin' to need it any time, that's all." chapter xviii the circling buzzards jack seemed nothing loth to carry out his chum's suggestion. truth to tell he himself felt considerably "cramped" in the lower part of his anatomy--any one who has been compelled to camp amidst the branches of a tree for a period of successive hours, knows the experience is anything but a pleasant one. so they slipped down, and once more stood on solid ground, with perk casting suspicious looks in the quarter where last they had glimpsed the fleeing grizzly, with jets of mingled smoke and fire spitting this way and that. "huh! here's hopin' he's went for good," he was saying, meaningly. "let's get a move on, partner, an' vacate these premises pronto--smells too rank fur me jest naow--burnt hair allers _did_ get my goat, ever since that barber coaxed me to have my crop singed--said as haow it'd grow out agin a heap faster if the split ends they was scotched away; but for a whole week afterwards folks used to look at me funny like, an' move further away. huh!" "no hurry at all, buddy," jack told him; "that live wire isn't going to come back this way in a hurry, you can depend on that. let's take a look, and make sure nothing has been dropped from our packs, or pockets. on the whole we've got a heap to congratulate ourselves on, coming out of such a scrape as well as we did--thanks to that bright thought of yours." "gee! it's real nice o' yeou to say that, jack, ole bean; i'm not sorry we had sech a queer experience; on'y i do begrudge him that real stuff, which is gone for keeps--it wasn't moonshine, or bootleg either, boy; but worth it's weight in solid silver--the man says as sold it to me." "well, it did come in handy, for a fact, perk, and we mustn't grieve over using it. just try to imagine one of us _did_ get struck by the fangs of a rattler, and the stuff saved a human life--in this case maybe two. cheer up--plenty more where that came from, if only you've got the coin." "right yeou are, brother," perk thereupon hastened to say, as he adjusted his pack to conform with the angles of his body. "on'y i got to be doubly keerful from neow on bout runnin' smack up again a pizenous viper, since it'd be jest too bad to get struck, an' no cure handy." when perk had anything bothering him he was in the habit of keeping his "misery" constantly on tap; but then jack was used to such little eccentricities on the part of his bosom chum--perk's good qualities more than compensated for his poor ones, a fact which those who knew him realized. they started on, following the devious windings of the former watercourse, where ages back there must have been terrible floods rush down toward the lowland, after every cloudburst at the top of the mountains. many years must have passed since those happenings ceased, for the trees and heavy undergrowth rooted in cracks of the mighty rocks told this story of change. "i sure do hope we doant run into any other kind o' wild critter, while makin' this grand sneak," perk was telling himself, as he kept close behind his leader, picking his steps as daintily as any high born lady--since that was his method of keeping watch for suspicious moving objects on the ground, such as might turn out to be reptiles waiting to puncture his ankles. "if i was totin' my winchester along, an' met up with a snarlin' mounting lion, i'd think it a bit o' luck; but when yeour hands are tied, so yeou dassent shoot a gun, things look kinder different, that's right, an' not so good." whenever jack paused for a brief stop, and stared back, perk dutifully copied his action, trying to impress certain local features of the landscape upon his memory. they had by this time come a considerable distance away from the spot where the airship had been abandoned, partly screened by the overhanging branches of several trees, and also a partial blanket of evergreens, small ones they had been able to tear up, and use with rare judgment. part of the time it was possible for them to raise their eyes and see the clear blue sky in places. once perk discovered a moving object pass before his vision, which he speedily made out to be a buzzard. a second followed close behind, and then numerous other of the carrion eaters, all swinging in the same direction after the manner of their clan. as his eyes followed the circle of soaring birds perk had an unpleasant thought strike in that gave him a chill around the region of his heart. "hot-diggetty-dig! i wonder neow could it be them gluttonus birds they been pickin' the bones o' thet poor simeon what disappeared 'raound this section o' kentry? jack hinted like he kinder guessed the plug uglies had knocked him on the head, an' tossed his body over some big precipice. gee whiz! it shore does gimme a bad feelin' to think thataways, 'specially since chances air we might be headin' straight along that same road aourselves." after that there seemed to be some sort of a horrible fascination about the wheeling line of feathered scavengers, so that at every opportunity, when an opening presented itself, perk just stared, and stared, frequently stumbling awkwardly over an unnoticed object, and almost losing his balance. jack noticed this fact presently, and felt called upon to warn the other. "keep your eyes more on the ground, partner, and do less sky gazing," he told perk in a low but distinct tone. "a tumble might give you a bad hurt; and besides, we can't afford to make any sort of racket, you know. never mind those rotten buzzards--what do _we_ care about their carrying-on." perk suspected that jack had himself guessed what ailed him, from the way he connected the sailing of the uncanny crew with his companion's erratic actions. at any rate it rather abashed perk to realize his weakness could be so readily observed; so he braced himself up, and tried to give a low laugh. "that's okay, jack; i'll be a heap more keerful. we got to do this grand creep as slick as grease, with them pesky kiotes keepin' their ears to the ground for s'picious noises." as the subject of simeon's possible raw deal had fastened itself on his mind, perk continued to speculate regarding the personality of the missing secret service agent. the subject grew more interesting the further he went, and in the end he even asked jack a question that was bothering him. "yeou says as haow yeou knowed this guy simeon some, didn't yeou, partner?" "i only met him a few times about a year back while in washington; but at that took quite a shine to him," jack explained, as perk nudged up against him, both having stopped to rest after negotiating an extra difficult stretch on their climb. "he must a been a fair good chap then, i guess, partner, eh, what?" "i liked him," jack added, concisely; "and they thought well of him in the big chief's offices." "any fambly as yeou heard of?" perk further wished to know. "he told me he was a widower--i thought he must be up against some sort of mind trouble--it just impressed me that way, though he never let out a word of his personal affairs; but i never saw him smile, even when others in the party were cracking jokes, and laughing their loudest." "huh! too bad sech a fine guy should a been sent out on a tough job like this one," was all that perk remarked, half under his breath, as though what jack had told satisfied his curiosity, and further increased his respect for the brave brother officer whom he knew only by report. these things were bound to crop up in his mind from time to time, and give him reason for further thought; for whatever the sad fate of simeon might be it seemed to have some connection with their own fortunes. then perk's roving fancy came back again to the adventure through which they had so recently passed, with such wonderful success. figuratively he patted himself on the back, because it had been wholly his conceit, that of setting their grim four-footed jailor on fire, and causing the beast to break the siege in hot haste. "huh! not so bad--fur me," perk told himself, with one of his queer chuckles. "ole perk he kin wake things up once in a coon's age, if he sets his mind on doin' the same. kinder guess it'd pay me to sorter cultivate that streak o' ingenuity--mebbe i'm movin' along to be some sorter inventor like tom edison--yeou never kin tell 'til the time comes. 'twouldn't be so funny after all, come to think o' it--my ole man had a gift thataway, even if he never did set the state o' maine on fire. huh! if things keep on amovin' like this, little ole perk mebbe'll amount to some punkins after all!" chapter xix taking great chances jack could read his chum almost as easily as he might an open page. consequently he readily surmised what was making the other feel so good--he saw perk's chest swell up, and his whole person partake of the joy that accompanied his secret thoughts. not for worlds though would he wish to let the other know how it amused him. "let him enjoy the thrill while it lasts, the dear old chap," he told himself in a whisper. "it isn't often he plays the high hat role; and after all's said and done his queer little game _did_ pan out just fine--no shooting, or whooping things up; just making it hot for that ill-tempered live wire of a silvertop bear." what was causing perk to feel so good was the thought of what would happen should any one ever again try to coax that identical bear to partake of the tempting fluid that had brought about his recent panic and flight. "me, i'd shore hate to be in his shoes, if that big hulk broke loose an' made things fly," was the way he wound up his soliloquy; when other more vital matters began to engage his attention. it was by now long after noon, and as usual perk had begun to feel a bit "queer" down in the pit of his stomach. for this feeling there was, as he very well understood, but one sovereign remedy. accordingly he gave a little tug at his companion's arm, and hastened to suggest: "jack, haow 'bout holdin' up, an' having aour lit snack--aint no tellin' when a better chanct'll come aour way, i kinder guess?" "it wouldn't be a bad idea, perk; and to tell the truth i'm feeling as if i needed a bite or two so's to keep up this climbing. hold on, here's as good a spot as any--let's go!" two minutes afterwards and they were seated crosslegged on the ground, amidst a generous growth of covert, which would likely screen them effectually from any prying eyes. jack realized that by this time they must have climbed far enough up the mountainside to bring them fairly close to the opening of the pass that led into the valley of the giants. if this were true then it behooved them to exercise a greater amount of caution than ever, lest they betray themselves to some vidette who might be posted near by. with this idea in view he considered it the part of wisdom to take perk into his confidence, so that as they exchanged views they could tone down their voices to the whispering stage. meanwhile perk had produced the aforesaid "snack" in the shape of a small package, neatly done up by that efficient waiter friend, and containing, it turned out, another kind of sandwich, with a tasty brand of cheese as the "filler." "jest didn't dare try to hitch that ere tank o' hot coffee along on this tough hike, partner," explained perk apologetically, after listening to the need of caution mentioned by jack. "so we'll have to munch this spread dry; or else locate a spring so's to wet aour whistles." "that isn't much of a hardship," he was told; "but we may be lucky enough to run across fresh water; and you could fill that empty flask of yours if you wanted." "by gum! not a bad idee that, pal jack; shore i'll do that same right willin'ly, if the chanct comes aour way. haow 'bout the next move, sense it seems we've got this far okay?" "i've been trying to figure that out," jack told him, reflectively it could be seen. "i've studied the conformation of the ground, which is something out of the general run; simeon's rude chart helped me a lot in the bargain. this enclosed valley, you understand, has high cliffs around it, with possibly only one way to go in and come out." "yeah! i get yeou, buddy--meanin' the queer pass that's so narrow three hossmen couldn't enter abreast--is that straight, jack?" "absolutely so," came the immediate reply, accompanied with a smile, as if it pleased jack to understand how readily his comrade entered into the explanation he had offered. "that being the case it seems likely we might be able to keep on climbing until finally we reached a place where we could find a screen close to the top of such a cliff. that would give us a wonderful eyrie like an eagle would select to build her nest on; and from which place we could look down into the entire valley." "hot-diggetty-dig! but woudn't that be a scream, oh! boy?" gasped the deeply interested perk, in whole-hearted enthusiasm, as he nodded his head in approval. "let's do jest that, then, partner. why, with the glasses as i fetched along for keeps, we could spy aout everything we'd want to know, an' mebbe find a way to git into the valley, withaout usin' that guarded pass." "just so, perk, and i notice you've got a strangle hold on the situation, which pleases me a heap. you see, there were a few hints in what our good friend simeon incorporated in his brief notes, that started such an idea in my brain; so once again we're indebted to his scouting for putting us wise to a good thing." "bully ole simeon--he's all wool an' a yard wide i'm a tellin' yeou jack, as the boys used to say in aour village when i was a smart-aleck kid." "then that's settled," jack announced, with finality, "and we'll keep on climbing after we get some rest, and finish our lunch. i've an idea i can catch the sweet song of a brook up above, so we'll be able to wash down this dry stuff in fine style." "good for that, partner," gurgled perk, with his mouth almost full, so that he was in danger of choking; and jack, noting the fact, refrained from making any further remarks calculated to tempt the other to splutter out a reply, or a comment of some sort. once while thus engaged in "feeding," as perk always called the act of satisfying hunger, he chanced to lift his eyes above the high margin of the gully, and immediately stopped munching what he had in his mouth. those sailing buzzards were still making their wide loops as they always do when scanning the face of the country for miles in search of their next meal; and somehow the very sight of them took away part of the satisfaction perk was feeling in filling up a vacuum "down-below-stairs." "drat the foul birds!" he muttered, half to himself; "they shore do make me tired with their everlasting wheelin' an' cavortin', atryin' to see what sorter grub we got daown here thet they'd like to gobble. gosh all hemlock! haow i'd like to knock their red blocks off with a scatter-gun!" jack understood enough not to make any remark calculated to cause his pal to again worry his mind over what could not be remedied--the mysterious vanishing of poor simeon balderson. and presently perk chirked up, as though he could put the grewsome matter out of his mind so long as he refrained from watching the constant evolutions of the carrion birds. as they devoured their last sandwich, feeling as though they had had quite sufficient, somehow both were silent. jack contemplated remaining there in that sheltered nook for a further brief rest, after which they would again take up the tedious and arduous climb. "mebbe we had orter be on the move, partner," perk finally suggested in a low whisper, just as though he feared lest a host of hostile ears might be hidden from sight by the nearby thickets. "i 'low i'm right daown thirsty, an' a swig o' that gurglin' stream'd come in fine." "just as you say, perk," with which remark jack started to arise; and presently both were toiling upward, stepping carefully, and endeavoring not to brush against the branches of the stubby pinons as they advanced slowly on the way toward their goal. a minute or so afterwards found them lying flat on the ground, swallowing generous quantities of the cold, icy water that was running down the rugged slope in a zigzag fashion, due to the innumerable obstacles that caused it to make little detours, since water must always seek its own level, and will find different means for so doing. suddenly jack lifted his head, swallowing hastily, and made a low hissing sound that thrilled his companion. "voices near by--somebody coming this way, perhaps for a drink--we must get a move on or we'll be discovered! after me, perk, and be still as the grave," was what jack whispered in the ear of his mate as he commenced crawling away. chapter xx on the encircling cliff considering the fact that neither of the two service men could boast of having graduated from the school of born scouts, and that their education along the line of the crafty pioneers was a bit off-color, it was simply wonderful how successfully they managed to creep into the thickest of the surrounding heavy growth without making any noticeable noise to betray the fact of their passage. when jack fancied they had covered sufficient ground he gave perk a signal with his foot--an old trick with the well paired couple that they had worked to advantage on numerous occasions. thereupon, when jack halted his snake-like progress, the other glided alongside; and thus they lay so close together that if necessary they could exchange a few words in whispers, although most likely jack would forego this privilege. the sound of conversation had grown much louder, accompanied by the swishing of bushes, as two or more persons continued to follow some sort of narrow path undoubtedly leading to this wonderful little rivulet. now the speakers must have reached their goal, for the voices were stilled, as though the men might be lying flat, and quenching their thirst in something purer than the poor stuff with which they were probably wont to seek the much desired kick. both of the hidden intruders strained their ears in hopes of making out what was being said, and thus possibly acquiring a little useful information; but the men spoke in such muffled tones this expectation failed to materialize--the deep, rumbling tones of one, and higher and shrill voice of the other, accompanied by occasional laughs, kept on for at least ten minutes; then from the sounds growing fainter jack and perk understood the two men must be going back the way they had come; from which fact they judged the opening into the closed valley must lie in that quarter, almost due north-by-east from their present refuge. "dog gone it! an' i ain't wise to a single thing they was a sayin'," perk lamented, half under his breath, after they could no longer catch the faintest sign of the pair who had been so near them. "same here," added jack, "which was too bad, for we might have picked up a little useful information while they talked and laughed." "gee! i strained my hearin' so hard it near cracked my ear-drums, i bet," continued perk, with a shake of his head; "but it was all rumble an' squeak, mixed in a mess. i shore never did hear so high-pitched a voice on a man in all my born days." "well, i have; and if you'll think back some you'll remember just _one_ occasion in the bargain--both of us remarked it as a queer kind of a voice--particularly for a big, bold fellow, who scorned to show a sign of weakness even when hemmed in, and taken prisoner by a couple of fresh secret service detectives, belonging to the flying corps." the effect of these words on perk was electrical--he started as though he had been shot, stared hard at his companion, then grinned broadly, and gave vent to his feelings in a suppressed _roar_--as near as he dared under such sensitive conditions. "well, well, well--hot-diggetty-dig! what a blind loon i am, not to 've s'pected that same! yeou mean that boob was no other than slippery slim hisself, the ole scratch we're runnin' after right at this minute, doant yeou, partner mine? glory be! what a great chanct we lost o' fillin' aout aour job in the start--why, we could aturned back to the ship, gone aboard, an' cut loose at two miles a minute fur the home airport, with _him_ safely bagged." "on the other hand, perk, we might have given ourselves away, and let him slip out of our hands; when it would be ten times as hard to capture him as if he didn't dream we were around this district. depend on it this is all for the best--we'll imitate the hungry wolf, and lie in ambush until such time as we can pounce down on slim, and carry him off unbeknown to the balance of the gang." "yeah! i kinder guess that's 'baout the ticket, partner; but it gives me a bad case o' the willies jest to think haow close we was, an' let 'em skip aout. gee! i'm in a cold sweat, drat the luck!" "while i was listening to his coarse language, and hard rasping laugh," jack went on to say, softly; "do you know what came into my mind--a picture of that cottage in the suburb of san diego, where we took that clever little lad we managed to keep from falling into the jaws of the mad dog." "i've thought o' the same many times since we left town," perk declared, in a sincere tone that bespoke his feelings in the matter. "nice ole lady, too; an' it gets me jest haow a boy could treat sech a fine mother like he's done--he orter be tarred an' feathered, that's my 'pinion!" "don't jump at conclusions that way, brother," jack interposed, as usual seeing further than the more impulsive perk. "first of all, we're not so dead certain he _is_ her son, and that sweet child his boy--we just guessed as much because that was surely slim's moniker on the wall we glimpsed. but then the chances are, no matter what his relations may be with the old lady, she's never really known what a bad egg slim's been. i've heard of cases where a wife of ten years standing still had faith in her man, and believed him to be simply unfortunate. so we mustn't feel so positive until we know more; although it looks as if mrs. ferguson must think him a good guy, the story of his crimes having been kept from her ears, either through accident, or a desire to save her mental suffering." "mebbe that's it, jack--yeou kin see deeper into sech puzzles than i ever could. but i only hope we manage to pick up leadin' clues, an' find aout 'baout that matter 'fore we're through with this case." "believe me, we're going to do all of that, perk. once we get our man again, and are aboard our good ship, headed for port, we'll see that he opens up and explains a good many things that so far are wrapped in mystery." "i kinder guess that's right, buddy," was perk's comment; after which they ceased whispering, to turn their full attention upon the task ahead--that of climbing still higher up the face of the steep mountain, with the idea of securing a full view of the hidden valley, and all contained therein. whenever a good opportunity opened up for an observation jack studied the nature of the ground above them. in this fashion he felt capable of deciding when they had gone as far as was needful in order to carry out their purpose, and secure an unobscured view of the wonder valley, with all it contained. both of them experienced more or less curiosity along these lines, as was most natural. so much had been said concerning the hard gang of bad eggs who had taken up their quarters in this wild locality--they had caused such a riot of annoyance to the authorities at washington, on account of their periodical forays, and the apparent impossibility of breaking up the defiant group, that anything connected with their life in the mountain fortress must appeal strongly to each and every secret service man. then besides, the unknown fate that had overtaken the last two gallant adventurers who had dared to try and beard the tough lawbreakers in their den--and which had only latterly come to the ears of jack and perk--was calculated to invest the whole subject with a tinge of mingled romance and sheer adventure, such as added to the thrill. it began to look as though they might reach their objective with an hour or so of daylight remaining, in which to take an observation. later on, as they sat, or lay resting after the strenuous climb, they could compare notes, and begin to build up something of a plan of campaign. "i reckon," said jack, softly enough, after one of those halts, during which he always made up his calculations, "we're as high as we need go. by sheering off here to the right we're apt to strike the top of that high cliff we spotted. then we'll have all the chance we want to get rested." "shucks! i aint a mite tired, buddy," perk assured him, between breaths; "on'y short o' wind, as yeou might say. some climb, b'lieve _me_!" "get your breath then, perk; and if you're ready say when." "go to it, ole hoss!" they exercised due caution, and gradually swung around in a half curve, when perk gripped the arm of his mate, to hoarsely exclaim: "thar she be, partner, openin' up like a book right ahead o' us!" chapter xxi all on a diet "steady then, boy--we mustn't give them a chance to glimpse anything moving up here, or the fat'll be in the fire. a step at a time, and mighty slow at that!" jack warned the hasty perk. the sun lay low toward the western horizon, as seen through a gap in the mighty snow-capped mountains lying in that quarter. it happened that there was a line of scrub growing close to the edge of the cliff; and which the quick-witted jack saw would prove a very effective screen for them to hide back of. down on hands and knees they dropped, to begin crawling inch by inch toward their objective. a cat creeping up on a sparrow, or a fat robin, could not have displayed a greater amount of sagacity and caution that those two man-hunters exhibited then and there--every little move was a gem; and perk, keeping close to the heels of his leader, was fain to thrill with admiration over the wonderful skill shown by jack in making this advance. by slow degrees they opened up an amazing vista as they drew closer to the brink of the cliff--it was a spectacle such as neither of them had ever laid eyes on during their entire past life--that glorious green valley lying like an oasis amidst grim mountain ranges, making the contrast clean-cut, and magnificent indeed. later on no doubt jack would drink the scene in with avidity, since he was a great lover of the picturesque; but at that particular moment there happened to be other things demanding their sole attention. the valley itself was the only frame that surrounded the picture most interesting to their minds. those who had gathered under the effective leadership of the man whom they had been credited with sending to the federal penitentiary not so many moons back, were the objects of their dangerous journey into these untracked wilds; and they were most eager to learn just how they were living in their hidden retreat--also what their mode of slipping out to make a bold stroke, and then disappear again most mysteriously, might be. first the further end of the valley came under their view, but with never a moving figure, nor yet any sign of huts or tents to indicate the presence of human beings. by slow degrees they widened their line of observation--objects closer at hand began to be noticeable, and finally they discovered the first shack. it was only a place used as a shelter for animals, which would indicate that they had a herd of ponies in the valley, where doubtless there would be found plenty of grass for grazing, even throughout the severe winter season. jack's first impression ran along the line of what a wonderful prize such a rare mountain retreat must some day prove for cattle, driven from the open range by the coming of cold, and heavy snows. ah! a second structure now bobbed up; but like the other it had the look of a rough shelter unsuited for human use. others by degrees came along, and jack counted nearly a dozen up to the time he struck quite a commodious log cabin, looking like some he had seen in times gone by when in a logging camp in michigan, where a bunch of loggers cutting timber during the winter, had to be kept warm when feeding. men were clustered around this structure, some lying on the ground, while others sauntered about, evidently talking and joking; although any sounds they might be making came but faintly to the strained hearing of the watchers up on the heights, so great was the distance separating them. "hot-diggetty-dig! thar they be, partner, the hull kittin' crew," perk ventured to say, softly; for as yet they did not know whether a lookout or vidette was kept posted, where he could have a range of vision covering many miles out over the rock strewn country toward the east and south. "just a round dozen in sight," muttered jack, who was already using the binoculars; "but at that there might be as many more in the huts and shacks. away off there to the north, where the grass looks greenest i can see a small herd of ponies feeding; remember, perk, some of those accounts hinted that in all probability they conducted their raids on horseback, and faded away again completely after striking." "huh! seems like they got a reg'lar _system_ organized," grunted the observant perk, staring off to the section where jack indicated. "that's all the work of our old friend, slippery slim," he was told in terms that would not admit of any denial; "he's shown in his past jobs he's a wonderful organizer--if he had been straight, and in the army, his genius might have pushed him far up the ladder; as it is he's only been able to prove one of the nastiest thorns in the flesh the government ever tackled." "then i kinder guess it'll be a relief if we carry this job through to a finish, and get the critter landed for keeps back where his wings'll be fair clipped." "you said it, perk." jack still held on to the glasses, finding it so interesting trying to locate this thing and that; but then perk had most astonishingly keen eyesight, and could pick up considerable information unaided. he was accustomed to staring into dim far-off spaces when aloft, which added to his ability in that line. lower dropped the sun. presently the shadows would come trooping out of their hiding-places, where they holed during daytimes. jack realized that, shut in as the valley was by those beetling cliffs, the twilight must be already falling down yonder--yes, he could notice the failing light, and inside of a brief time darkness must wrap everything in its dark folds, save where possibly some fire continued to burn, and dispel the gloom. "i figure that they do most if not all of their cooking inside of that long log cabin, and eat there to boot," he explained to his companion, eagerly listening. "more organization stuff, eh?" grunted perk; "then like as not they even got some kinder cook, or _chef_, to handle the pots an' pans. flyin' high, i'd call it, partner--alivin' off the fat o' the land mebbe." "why not, when they've pulled off some mighty big shake-downs during the last few months, and must have raked in a heap of dough? with the coin you can buy all sorts of good things to eat; and don't forget how they've got a special delivery ship, that is able to tote half a ton or more of freight." "whew! jest to think o' that," breathed perk, making a face as if some extremely painful thought had flashed through his excited brain; "an' heow we on'y got _four_ slim sandwiches to fill up on--hardly a bite apiece." "tough luck, that's right, boy," said jack, cheerily; "but such old campaigners as we are shouldn't squeal because we miss a few meals. easy enough to make up for lost grub when we're all cleaned up, and sitting pretty. besides, just as like as not i'm going to ask you to trot back to our ship in the morning, if you're agreeable." "huh! surely not to stay, while yeou're up here by yeour lonely--don't tell me that, jack, ole pard." "hardly, buddy; i'll need your help too much to divide our forces in front of the enemy, or when crossing a stream, which is a bad time, they say, to change horses. i meant that you could make up a big bundle of grub, and tote it along; for there's no telling how much time we're going to squander, loafing up on this roost, and watching how things go." "gosh! _that's different_, partner; of course i'd be glad to slide daown there, take a peek at our boat, load up with some stuff, an' make it back here 'bout middle o' the afternoon--if i'm lucky." "well, you've just _got_ to be lucky, and not spill the beans, that's a foregone conclusion, perk. every foot of the way you must keep on the alert, and take no chances of discovery. but it's getting so dark down in the valley we might as well shut up shop for the present." "meanin' it's the end o' a perfect day, eh, what?" asked perk, as he started to "back water," and push away from the screen of scrub bushes. "well, we've accomplished a few things worth remembering, so the time hasn't been exactly wasted, perk. but the main job still lies ahead of us, remember, brother. it's going to be no small job either, to separate that slick rascal from the balance of the gang, and carry him off in our airship, without having to fight a regular battle with the mob." perk scratched an ear, and then remarked softly: "it never could be done if left to a lad built like me, i'm tellin' yeou, my boy--couldn't make the grade, which is a fack. some galoots air built that way, yeou savvy? but, so long as i got a pal to lean on i aint worrin' 'baout not bringin' home the bacon, not me." "none of that baloney, perk." they continued to back away until jack decided they were far enough distant from that dreadful brink of the mighty cliff, to avoid any possibility of falling over if by chance they "walked in their sleep," as perk had been known to occasionally do, when something was weighing heavily on his mind. "let's have those last few sandwiches that you held out at lunchtime," jack remarked, settling down to make himself as comfortable as the conditions allowed. "good thing too, you were so thoughtful, since only for that we'd have gone to sleep with empty stomachs, which is rather hard on a fellow as fond of chow as some one i know." "i'm guilty, all right, jack--eatin's one o' my shortcomin's for a fack--allers did count the hours 'til the horn'd blow fur dinner-time--age haint changed little gabe perkiser a whit, an' never will, i kinder spect. take yeour pick--jest two each, an' haow i wish i'd a told him to make 'em double thick--why, dang it they on'y be a couple o' bites each, sech bites as i take." "half a loaf's a lot better than no bread--be philosophical, buddy, and as you munch your fodder keep thinking what you're going to do punishing the grub when the time of plenty rolls along, which it surely will do in good time." they sat there exchanging remarks in cautious tones, and making the slender allotment of food go just as far as possible--as might a child nibbling all around the sugar coating on the top of his cake, "keeping the best for the last." "goin' to be some cold, in the bargain, seems like," suggested perk, whose mind always ran to picking out the thorny parts, and forgetting the pleasant ones lying in wait for them later on. "oh! well, we ought to know what cold stuff means, after being miles high so many hours at a time, and in an open cockpit at that, remember, perk. what can't be cured must be endured--there's going to be a lot of good times when we've wound up this game for keeps, skip back to old san diego, and that jolly little restaurant we know." "yeah! providin' we aint knocked aout o' the runnin' 'fore that time, ole hoss," grumbled perk. chapter xxii the man with the cook's cap somehow perk's mind seemed to dwell most persistently on their lack of a comfortable fire. many a time he must have been in much sore need of warmth than on the present occasion, and could "grin and bear it." he wondered himself at his frequent grumbling, and at one time even openly confessed to jack, as though his guilty conscience had begun to reprove him. "doant jest know what ails me, partner, to kick up sech a big row over standin' things--must be i'm agettin' right old, an' near my second childhood. i'd sure give somethin' to be able to warm my hands at a cracklin' fire right naow; an' seems like i wouldn't get much o' a snooze, when i'm a shiverin' to beat the band, with nawthin' warm inside me neither." "we'll crawl a little further along to where we can get out of this chilly breeze. it's because we're so high up we feel it so. i'm meaning to take a look around tomorrow, and see if i can't run across some sort of a hole, or crevice, where we'd be a lot more comfortable nights." "huh! might as well make it a reg'lar _cavern_ while yeou're 'baout it, partner; not as i'm atall greedy, see; but i always _did_ want to explore a gen-u-ine cave, ever sence i read mark twain's 'tom sawyer' an' 'huckleberry finn' books." "just as you say, brother, it'll have to be some kind of a cave then, so you'll feel satisfied--anything to keep peace in the family. but for just one night we must put up with whatever comes along, and take it out in thinking how fine we'll be another night, with a warm hole in the rocks, perhaps a nice blaze going, and all those good things to eat you mean to lug up here." "say, have heart, wont yeou, partner, an' please don't aggravate the situation so bad? if yeou hear me a rollin' off a list o' dishes like the waiter does in a cheap chop house, don't knock me any, 'cause like as not i'll on'y be a talkin' in my sleep." when they had devoured the last crumb of their limited supply of ham sandwiches the change in the campground was effected; and just as jack had prophesied, the cold wind did not seem to strike them as keenly as before. "stand it as long as you can, perk," jack told his mate, before they thought of turning in, "when you get to shivering too much, the only thing to do is to get up, and start your daily dozen in exercising your arms violently; but make no noise on your life. we don't know when one of those brutes may be prowling close by, and upset all our tricks by knocking over the apple cart." "needn't fear i'm sech a silly as that, ole hoss," perk assured him, indignantly. "but what i wanter ask is why couldn't some fellers that knowed haow to slip daown a rope withaout burnin' their hands to a crisp, drop into that same valley as neat as wax, while night hung on?" "simple as falling off a log, that's okay, perk, old pal; if _only_ you happened to have a rope, and it was long enough to do the business." "shucks! allers is some kinder drawback to every game i hatch up--we aint got any rope fur a fack; which is too bad, aint it? guess as haow if we ever do get inside that ere valley we'll shore have to sneak in by way o' the narrer little pass. if so be they got a sentry on deck there, why, we'll have to poke him in the neck, an' put the gink to sleep." "too early to be settling that matter, before we've located things," jack argued. "always a chance of something popping up that we don't know about, and which'd solve our troubles. first let's try and get a few winks of sleep, because i for one feel as though i needed it." it was fated to be about as mean a night as they ever could remember, and undoubtedly they had both experienced many poor ones. jack managed to drop asleep, to awaken later on to find himself shivering, and with his teeth rattling like castanets in the dextrous slim fingers of a spanish dancer. something was moving near by, and, looking that way he could just manage to make out, with the starry heavens as a background, a figure with numberless arms, so it seemed, shooting up and down with mathematical precision. jack chuckled, realizing how it must of necessity be his pal, perk, who, also awakened by having shivers run over his entire system, had remembered the advice given him, and was doing his daily dozen several times over, to induce a circulation of warm blood in his extremities. like a good doctor, not averse to taking his own medicine, jack hastened to scramble to his feet; after which there were a pair of them industriously working their arms like flails on the threshing floor, taking steps in unison backward and forward. perk fell in with the trick, and managed to keep time with his companion, as though it might all be a huge joke. then, after they began to feel more comfortable, they again lay down to try and get a little more sleep. "wonder what time it kin be, jack; caint get a peep at my wrist watch in all this darkness, yeou know?" perk was asking, turning as always to his reliable comrade when in any trouble. "somewhere around three, i'd say, according to the lay of the stars overhead," came the ready reply, proving that jack had for his own comfort challenged the chart of the skies, which was well known to his understanding, from long practice in reading the ways of the planets. "kinder guess that's 'bout so, an' i'm glad on'y a few more hours got to be endured, when mornin'll come along, and mebbe the warm sun'll show his nose to help aout some." after that perk must have gone to sleep, for jack did not hear him speak again. if perk felt compelled to get up and do some more exercising later on at least he did not arouse his companion; for when jack once more opened his eyes it was to see a faint light over toward the east, to prove that dawn was well on the way. he was feeling greatly chilled, and losing no time hastened to get up and commence that swinging of his arms; also punching an invisible bag again as though he might be a pugilist at his regular exercises, in view of an approaching fistic battle in the arena, amidst cheering multitudes of frenzied fight fans. then, too, perk speedily realized what was going on, and joined forces with the early riser, making all sorts of remarks, both in lament and otherwise, and keeping time with his vicious lunges. "take that, yeou pizen critter, an' a few more o' the same stripe, to make yeou take the count for keeps! haow dye like that swipe, i'm askin' o' yeou,--a sweet upper-cut i got a copyright on? that's a bit under the belt, mebbe, but ev'rything counts in this mill--there aint no foul blows. an' by the same token i'm beginnin' to feel some better a'ready, jack, ole hummer." before ten minutes had passed both of them were content to call a halt, as their arms were beginning to feel the strain, and they found themselves no longer chilled to the bone. "hot-diggetty-dig! it'd be simply scrumptious if on'y we had a good breakfast on top o' that exercise," with which gruesome remark perk pulled in his slack belt another notch, under the impression that by increasing the pressure on his empty stomach he could cause the distress to disperse. the light in the east had been growing brighter all this while, having taken on a pinkish tinge that announced the speedy coming of the king of day. of course it would still be dark down in the valley, so there was no use as yet in their moving over to their shelter of the preceding afternoon. "seems like i might get a move on, an' be agoin'," perk suggested; nor did the other try to place any obstacle in his way. "nothing to hinder you, buddy," jack was telling him, holding out his hand with a smile. "i'm not going to say another thing about being careful, because i'm dead certain you'll be on your guard every minute of the time. only, if set upon fight with all your might; for you must know men like these jail birds, most of them i reckon having broken out of bondage, hate our class as the devil is said to detest holy water; and they'll never give you a decent chance if you surrender." and perk, that veteran of the war across the big pond, nodded his head as he went on to say nonchalantly, as became a soldier of fortune: "yeou want to understand, partner, if i jest have to turn my toes up to the daisies in this game i'm agoin' to have some company along the road to shadow-land, yeou bet yeour boots on that same. ta! ta! an' look fur me araound sunset, er earlier if i kin make it a go." jack hated to see him depart, but it was all in the line of business; and many unpleasant things have to be endured in following the path of duty; none realizing this truth better than men in the secret service, where they never know at what minute they may be called upon to risk life and limb in carrying the summons of the law into all manner of dens and hideouts, where potential criminals may be lying in ambush, with machine-guns, and bombs, ready to bring destruction to the daring officers of justice. jack, as soon as the early morning mists had cleared away, began work. he had laid out a dozen important things he wished to see through, and as a beginning once more posted himself in a recumbent position behind the friendly screen of those stunted bushes, close to the edge of the steep descent--a most colossal precipice it now became in his eyes, although always in the nature of a cliff to dwellers of the sunken valley some hundreds of feet below. of course, as he dared not creep any closer to the brink, he was unable to make any sort of survey of the near section; but he fancied the more important huts and shanties were within range of his glasses. he moved his hands with the utmost care, for how was he to know when the bright rays of the rising sun might glint from the magnifying end of the binoculars, attracting the attention of some suspicious man far beneath by the brilliant flash that was bound to follow a hasty movement? besides, jack felt constrained to keep himself in touch with a retreating line of brush, in order to make a quick getaway should any alarming sound, like the fall of a dislodged rock, give warning of the possible approach of some curious investigator. by degrees he familiarized himself with every part of the depressed ground falling under the scope of his glasses. in so doing he paid a great deal of attention to the long, low log cabin, which he had in the beginning decided must be a dining hall, and general loafing quarters. men came and went, and several of those who reappeared, after a protracted stay within, seemed to be wiping their mouths, as though they had been eating. then it was finally decided without the least doubt, when a man wearing an apron that may have once been white, and a similar peakless cap, evidently serving as a general cook, came out and emptied some left-overs into a wooden pail, so it could be carried away, to be devoured by buzzards, or possibly skulking foxes and coyotes, perhaps even timber wolves. chapter xxiii perk carries on apparently jack found considerable interest in the man wearing the white cap of a cook, for he watched him keenly as he came and went, limping a little, it seemed, as though somewhat lame. then, as the morning drew on, jack changed his location, as though desirous of applying his energies to another duty that claimed attention. he was away from his post all of three hours; and when once more creeping over to the friendly screen of scrub bushes, there was a satisfied look on his grim face, that gave him an air of renewed confidence. apparently things were working along the right path, which would mean he found them to his liking. if jack felt exceedingly hungry, with so little to stay the clamorings of an empty stomach, he gave no evidence of such a thing. but then he did not happen to belong to the class of "squealers," as honest perk often delighted to assign himself, without a blush of shame--he was built to expect three square meals per diem, and felt he had a right to "kick" when, through some misfortune they failed to come along on schedule. the afternoon wore away slowly, with jack in continual use of his glasses. it was a most interesting study for him, this spying upon the hideout of the greatest aggregation of badly wanted refugees from the law he had ever run across. what a grand haul would result if only he chanced to have a dozen of his fellow workers in the secret service at his call, ready to draw a net around the sunken valley, and forcing a general surrender. a good many empty cells in the federal penitentiaries would be filled with their former occupants, jack was telling himself, as he strove to count the idle members of the gang sunning themselves, and taking things so comfortably, as though they refused to entertain a single minute of fear concerning the possibility of the army being used by uncle sam to encompass their downfall. jack now began to anticipate the return of his comrade, judging from the manner in which he frequently turned his head, as if to listen, while a look of concern began to draw lines about his eyes. the fact that he had seen no sign of excitement among those he was watching had given him good cause for confidence. surely, if the presence of strangers in the neighborhood had been discovered, with possibly perk made a prisoner, he must have noted the fact as he viewed the panorama spread out before his eyes. it was when the descending sun had dropped well down the western sky--about five by his faithful little wrist watch--that all of a sudden he heard something drop just back of his position, followed by a low, shaky voice saying: "hot-diggetty-dig! say, i'm 'baout all in, for a fack--gee whiz! sech a climb, with a pack on my back that weights somethin' like a ton. whee!" and there was perk, flat upon his back, having been drawn down when he attempted to let his burden drop. jack gained his side as speedily as he could, his mind at ease once more, his late fears having vanished like a puff of mountain fog before a rising breeze. "mighty glad to see you safe back, buddy--was just beginning to feel a bit anxious--but you shouldn't have attempted to lug such a whopping bunch of stuff up this steep grade." perk gave him a wise grin, and managing to find his voice he went on to say, in a jerky manner between breaths: "didn't reckon to in first place, jack--after i hitched to aplenty yeou know i 'membered 'bout somethin' else--then saw a package o' grub i jest did want to try eout the wust kind--so she climbed to this mounting--but it's okay--we kin make use o' ever'thing, bet yeour boots we kin." "i hope you did what i told you to--eat a good lunch while you had the opportunity?" jack asked, solicitously, whereat the other slily winked one eye, and made reply: "sure thing, partner--easier to swaller the grub an' carry same _inside_, than to tote it on my back. but queer haow a gink keeps on buildin' up a appetite, fur somehaow i'm hungry as all git-eout agin." that was just like perk; but jack had to chuckle at the lugubrious expression he could see on his comrade's expressive face as he announced this sad fact. "well," he told the returned scout, "we'll eat as soon as we get further away from the cliff; i've got some things to tell you that may sound interesting; but not a single word until i've had a chance to break _my_ fast." "great guns! jack, ole hoss, i forgot as haow yeou aint had nary a bite all day long, while i was jest _gorgin'_ myself daown yonder!" "first tell me, was the ship okay?" "sure was, jack," the other went on to state, as he managed to regain a stooping position, with the mighty pack still on his back, assisted by a friendly push at the hands of his ally. jack seemed to breathe easier, showing that he had really worried about the possibility of something happening to their air courier, such as must put a halt to their operations, if not entirely smashing the same. "'fore i started back," continued perk, who was now wound up, and capable of running on for any length of time, his wind being assured, "i took time to toss some more o' them evergreens on exposed parts o' the crate. she's camouflaged neow to beat the band--kinder guess a galoot with the eyes o' a hawk might pass by less'n fifty feet away, an' never suspicion what that big mound was. but there ain't been anybody araound there since we cut aout--i'm givin' yeou that straight, pard jack." shortly afterwards they settled down in a secluded spot, where the brush grew thick enough to effectually conceal their presence, assisted in this friendly task as it was by various piles of rough rocks, such as were as plentiful in that wild country as "grains of sand on the seashore," perk had more than once declared. jack held to his resolve, and refused to say another word until he had taken the sharp edge off his appetite. just then he doubtless could appreciate how his always hungry chum must suffer between meals. by the time he had been munching the stuff the sympathizing perk kept putting before him, for something like ten minutes, the acute sensation had passed away. perk had also been doing a little side act of his own, and managed to put away a fair proportion of eatables. he was waiting as patiently as he could for jack to start telling what he meant by the word "discoveries;" and hoping something entertaining might be forthcoming. "i'm glad you saw fit to fetch that big flashlight, _ditto_ the two extra dry batteries along, buddy," observed jack, finally; "because we're going to find a good use for the same. i've entered a claim for a nice dry residence, which we can use while we're in this region--rain or shine, cold or otherwise, it's a sure enough jim-dandy _cave_!" "bully boy, jack; i'm tickled pink to hear such good news; when do we move in, tell me?" "right away--that is, by the time darkness comes along, perk; because it isn't a great way off--a fissure in the big rock that looked sort of inviting to me; so i crept inside, with a splinter of dry wood that i could coax to burn. couldn't see all i'd have liked to, but enough to tell me the crack developed into a regular cavern, with a roof fully twenty feet up, and feeling a heap warmer than we found ourselves last night." "whoopee! that sounds right fine to me, cully; i'm sure glad yeou hit sech a prize package fust shot. but i jest knowed yeou'd be adoin' yeour stuff when i was a crawlin' 'long daown there in the bottom land. i'm crazy to take a squint at aour new lodgin'; but i guess there aint no sech hurry." "plenty of time for everything," jack assured him, still engaged in the pleasant task of feeding the furnace fires within. "we can have a great chin once we get settled; and perk, i spent a full hour toting a lot of wood into that split in the wall." "meanin' as haow we kin even have a bully little fire--all the comforts o' home, an' nary a red cent to pay for rent, in the bargain. ain't we the lucky boys, though." "listen! that's a familiar sound i'm picking up, eh, what, perk?" "sure is!" cried the other, showing signs of sudden excitement. "some sorter airship headin' thisaways. must be that ole crate belongin' to the boys daown in the valley; let's git back to the cliff, an' see what's what, jack." chapter xxiv in the tom sawyer cavern "she's acomin' closer right along, jack!" perk was saying, cautiously, as he limped along at his companion's heels, evidently more or less tired after his long tramp, with that great pack settled on his back. jack realized this fact himself. he was keeping a wary eye turned in the quarter whence the roaring sound could be heard, constantly growing louder with each passing second. if he suddenly discovered the approaching plane he could give the plodding perk the "high sign", when both must drop down flat to keep from being discovered by those in the ship's cabin. as it happened the incoming aircraft was keeping low down, its pilot undoubtedly expecting to swing into the valley by way of the spreading jaws of the narrow pass. by the time they managed to gain their old location the landing had been successfully accomplished, a fact that caused perk to remark: "huh! them guys arunnin' that crate aint no dummies at their job, sure as shootin'. that was a slick landin' the gink at the stick set daown. wow! see haow they're aswarmin' eout o' evry shack, will yeou; like this comin' back o' the patched-up ship might mean it was afetchin' 'em all sorts o' stuff they kinder hankered after? what a soft time them rats air ahavin', with nawthin' to do 'cept wait fur the supper bell to sound." "watch and see what manner of stuff they take out of the cabin," advised the wide-awake jack, with an evident hope he might learn a few "wrinkles" concerning the occupation of the confederates in this mountain retreat, by thus checking their plane's cargo, for he had noted that it was heavily laden. there seemed to be an abundance of willing workers now, and the way the freight was lifted out of the cabin, to be carried toward the big log cabin, told of the personal interest they had in the stuff. "looks mostly like grub, i'd say," jack remarked, keeping his eyes fastened to the useful binoculars; "and i reckon business, whatever it is they're carrying on, must be good, for them to buy such a mountain of food, staples and fancy groceries in the bargain." perk could be heard making a queer sound in his throat. "i'm a piker if this doant beat anythin' i ever stacked up against," he gritted between his teeth. "hard times, they say, an' yet here's a bunch o' tough guys aloaded up with 'bout sech truck like a oil-well nabob daown in oklahoma might lay in fur the hull winter. mebbe i wouldn't like to board up at this hotel fur a spell! i'd sure make a dent in their ole grub pile." the plane cabin was soon emptied, and apparently it had held an enormous cargo. they saw the two men forming the crew head toward the dining hall, as though to await the call to supper. perk, having begged to hold the glasses, was eagerly staring at the pair, wearing dingy flying togs. "hot-diggetty-dig!" he muttered, just loud enough for jack to hear him, "so _that's_ what took ole nat outen san diego, was it? did somethin' to make him want to skip by the light o' the moon, an' then hitched up with this ere rotten bunch o' crooks. he sure had it comin' to him, bein' he'd been skatin' on the edge o' goin' bad some time back." "you seem to know some one, perk, from what you're saying?" ventured jack. "yeah! a galoot called nat tucker, once a fair sorter pilot; but kinder crooked, some folks used to say behind his back. that's him, the stouter lad with a limp--got that onct when he had to step off a mile high, an' his chute didn't work as nice as it orter, lettin' him crash when he landed in a hay field--would a been killed if it'd been rocks, like these here. found his level okay when he struck this rotten crowd. had a sorter nice halfbreed squaw fur a wife, too, pretty as a picture; but i heard she kicked nat aouten the house, so he's cleared up fur keeps. well, he's kinder classy as a pilot, an' said to be a reg'lar dare-devil in his way. the boys'll sure be some s'prised to hear what's happened to ole nat." as the crowd down in the valley had thinned out by this time, most of them passing into the big log cabin, jack concluded there was no necessity for himself and perk to remain any longer at their lookout point. once back at their former campground jack picked up his supper at the point he had quit when the sound of the oncoming airship drifted to their ears. perk looked expectant, as though he still remembered that his chum had promised to enlighten him concerning various discoveries made during the day just then closing. "i've been figuring things out," jack commenced saying, as he continued his interrupted meal, "and from a number of little things i saw i'm almost certain these banded crooks must be carrying on a bogus-money plant up here--several times when the wind changed i thought i could catch a queer sort of sound that was along the line of machinery, a press perhaps working at printing the counterfeit bills." "gee whiz! i wonder!" ejaculated the deeply interested perk, his eyes aglow with half suppressed excitement. "stop and figure it out for yourself, buddy," jack went on smoothly, as though his own mind was already fully made up. "could anybody think up a finer and safer location for such an illegal plant than up here, where they could carry on their work without molestation? and then, when they had a good grist of bogus stuff to scatter over the western country, how easy to send it out aboard that swift airship? i warrant you they're doing a land-office business--no stagnation in this neck of the woods, even if it's said to be the case nearly everywhere else all over the world." "gosh! doant it beat the dutch, jack, haow chumps like that kin lick up all the cream on a pan o' milk, leavin' the skim stuff to honest folks? but yeou said yeou'd picked up a heap o' pints, which i'd hear 'bout later on. aint that time come 'raound yet, buddy?" "hold your horses, perk; that news can keep until after we get located in our new sleeping quarters. suppose we divide up all this stuff you've fetched, along with what we already had on hand; so i can help tote the same. i can see with one eye how you must be fairly worn out with what you carried all the way up here. come, let's get a move on, partner." perk did not show much signs of being so dead tired, judging from the alacrity with which he scrambled to his knees, and busied himself making up the two packs. one, which he evidently fully intended for himself, was about twice as heavy as the other; seeing which, (and comprehending the usual generous spirit of this big-hearted chum) jack managed to pick it up when the other was not looking, and absolutely refused to surrender when appealed to. "not any, partner," he told perk, resolutely; "what do you take me for, a weakling, or a shirker? if you say much more i'll sling _both_ packs over my shoulder, and leave you to trot along in the rear. i've done nothing but loaf all day, while you were as busy as a beaver. get out, and stay out, d'ye hear, boy?" he led the way, and seemed to know just where he was going, passing around a dozen great rocks that barred their passage. perk marveled at his pal's skill and memory as a guide, never pausing to question his route, but following the circuitous trail as though he had trodden the same for a long time. finally, when they had descended the slope for a short distance, jack stopped in front of a minor cliff, and pointed to the fissure in question. "i'll go on ahead with my flashlight, and you keep close to my heels, perk," he explained. "so far as i could tell there's nothing apt to trip us up; but its just as well to be on your guard, with a clumsy bundle on your back, and your legs being a bit tottery after that long climb. ready, buddy--then in we dip." perk could not keep from feeling something of a thrill as he followed his partner into the fissure, which seemed to widen the further they advanced. presently he could no longer glimpse either wall, and hence came to the conclusion they must have already reached the large cavern mentioned by jack earlier in the evening. coming to a halt the leader shifted his hand torch in such a fashion that both of them were now able to see the walls, as well as the high ceiling of the natural cavern. perk could not repress an exclamation of mingled satisfaction and awe. "hot-diggetty-dig! but aint this jest grand?" he burst forth. "me always a feelin' a yearnin' inside to glimpse what yeou'd call a reg'lar cavern, like tom sawyer an' huck finn explored, daown on the bank o' the mississip; an' here she be like magic. say, this takes the cake, partner." "welcome to our new home, brother," laughed jack, but not hilariously; "and now to drop our packs so as to rest up." chapter xxv squatters' rights "yeou doan't reckon as haow anybody kin see a fire, if so be i started a little blaze back in here, do yeou, partner?" queried perk. jack knew how the other was fairly itching just to feel the warmth of a genuine campfire, under such extraordinary conditions, and hence shook his head. "not a chinaman's chance, buddy--too many crooks in the passage we took getting here. the wood i fetched in lies just back of you; and besides, a fire will save my battery, which means a heap. go to it then, and get busy." accordingly perk lost no time in carrying out his cherished plan, for he had always vowed himself to be a "reg'lar cat o' a fire-worshipper;" so, the match having been applied they were treated to a generous glow that revealed much more plainly the character of the wonderful cavern. later on the investigating perk discovered that another fissure, shaped somewhat like a regular tunnel, led away from the central cavern, and sloped downward. his mind seemed to still follow up that mark twain idea, for he had no sooner taken a good survey at the passage entrance than he gave jack a shrewd look, and followed this up by saying ingenuously: "huh! if i didn't know we was a heap o' miles away from the ole mississip i'd be 'clined to swear this must be the gen-u-ine cave tom and huck knocked 'raound in the time they found all that lost treasure. but i wonder--" "what do you wonder, perk?" "struck me that mebbe aour ole friend, that silvertip bear, might have his den somewhere 'bout in the rocks; an' where'd he run 'cross a better place to hole up fur the winter than right here! say, mebbe i wouldn't hate to run smack on the ugly critter while we was a explorin' some o' the tunnels an' passages that lead outen this here central chamber? they kinder give these here grizzlies a reputation fur havin' long memories, jest like elephants do; an' i bet yeou a cookey he aint never agoin' to furget little gabe perkiser, what throwed a match into his hair, an' set him afire." but jack did not appear to have such a lively imagination as his comrade, for he shook his head in the negative, and tried to soothe the anxious perk. "i hardly think there's any chance for such a nasty happening, buddy," he assured the other; "though i do reckon the old chap'd never forget you, after receiving such scurvy treatment at your hands. some time later we'll take a look in at that same passage--these caves in the mountains often turn out to run for a mile or more, twisting and turning, to come out it may be close to the starting point, even in the shape of another fissure." "say, i'd like that same trick, i'm atellin' yeou, jack, boy. 'sides, bein' partial to caves o' all kinds an' species i'm also given to explorin' queer places--got me into heaps o' trouble in my kid days, which same makes me laugh to remember. but tell me some more things yeou thunk up, or seen, while i was aout wrastlin' fur grub." jack looked at him in a peculiar way that caused perk to wonder what he was about to spring upon him. "remember my telling you about that cook chap they've got, waiting on them, and all that, perk?" "sure do, him with the s'posed to be white _chef's_ cap--was he any different from the general run--cook, crook, seems to me they sorter hitch like they might be first cousins." "there was something that seemed familiar about him, but it was only later in the day i managed to glimpse a better look at the fellow, when the sun shone full on his moniker; then it flashed on me who he was." "hold on there, partner, i jest hopes yeou ain't agoin' to inform me he's yet another galoot i useter know--seems like that nat tucker, added to aour ole friend, slippery slim, might be enough former 'quaintances to meet up with in sech a nest o' flim-flam artists an' crooks." "well, i think you told me once you'd never known this party; but i had, and only a short time back i told you more or less about him. it was in washington i used to run along with him in my work." "wait up, partner--go slow 'til i ketches my breath. yeou ain't agoin' to stagger me by sayin' that this here cook might be _him_?" "just what i mean, perk." "simeon--simeon balderson?" "no other, brother, undoubtedly a prisoner, and being made to serve that miserable gang of hoodlums in a menial capacity, partly to humble him, and give them plenty of chances to throw mean jibes at him as the representative of the service they hate so much. it's the irony of fate, if ever such a thing could be." "dead certain be yeou, jack?" the other nodded in the affirmative, adding: "he must have been badly injured in the scrap before he and his companion were knocked out, for he certainly never limped like that when i knew him, only a year or so back. possibly the second man may have been wiped out in the gun battle; though why they should spare simeon's life is a puzzle to me; but some day we'll understand, since i wouldn't think of going away from here and leaving him in the hands of those human tigers." "shake on that same, ole hoss; i'm with yeou every time, 'cause it means we're agoin' to have some mighty stiff work on aour hands 'fore we kin send a ball daown in each alley, an' make a clean sweep o' the duck-pins; an' that's the dizzy game i sure likes most." there was really nothing like brag about what perk said, as his comrade knew full well; in the past he had seen perk put up a grand fight, and never could forget how he slashed, and cut, and struck home with any old weapon he chanced to have in his hands, until a clean swathe had been cut through the ranks of their foes. he always appeared to be a little ashamed of having lost his head, and striking blind, excusing himself under the plea that he must have been in a bit of a "tailspin." "here we can stay, perk, without running much risk of being discovered; for i hardly imagine any of those chaps would bother exercising themselves to try and find out what the country around their happy valley looks like." "huh! i kinder guess not any," remarked the skeptical perk, with a look akin to disgust on his face; "they're a heap too lazy to move, 'cept to come to their three meals a day when off duty, and kept in camp. same men when on a raid robbin' some border bank; holdin' up a train; or nice healthy jobs like that, kin act like a pack o' half starved locoed wolves." "i was just thinking," continued jack, who seemed never to lose a point worth considering, "that perhaps we'd better make sure our eats are kept secure. such places as this cavern would be attractive dens for foxes, and such predatory varmints, who'd like nothing better than to steal every scrap of food we've got; which would be a serious thing, i'd allow." "wall, i kinder guess it sure _would_, by hokey!" exclaimed perk, quickly aroused, as the danger loomed along the line of possible starvation, "an' it ain't agoin' to happen either, if i have to stick 'raound all night long. grub an' me air the best o' friends; an' i'd go a long way to defend sech a good pal." "hardly be so serious as that, buddy," advised jack, seeing how his suggestion had awakened lively fears in his companion's breast. "plenty of loose stuff lying around in here, so we'll just _cache_ our food supplies, by covering the pile with a heavy weight no beast could budge." "yeou said it, partner, an' i'll take a look 'raound till i kin pick aout the best place to build aour fort. watch my smoke, jack, boy." it did not take him long to find what he sought, after which they speedily arranged things to suit their idea of security. "there she be," perk remarked, in a satisfied tone, as the job was finished. "if any red fox or kiote kin scratch his way under that stack o' dornicks i'll eat my hat--an' ole dungarees in th' bargain. i ain't a luggin' good eats all the way from san diego, an' payin' aout lots o' coin fur the same, jest to make a holiday fur four-footed thieves." "both of us are dead for sleep, i reckon," ventured jack, as they lay on the rocky floor, perk indulging in the luxury of a pipe of his favorite turkish mixture for solace; "and perhaps we'd be wise to snatch a few hours while we may--we're up against a pretty hard proposition, and there's no telling just what lies ahead of us. how about it, perk?" "shucks! i'm willin' enuff to lay off; an' mebbe naow i ain't glad i done fetched them two woolen blankets along as we had on aour cots aboard the ship. they sure helped to make up a fine load; but right naow they'll be wuth all they cost me on the hike." "and i'll bless your long-sightedness in thinking of our comfort," jack hastened to assure him. "bare rocks like these are hardly in the same class with a good spring bed, and plenty of covers. we'll skip some sore bones because of having these to tuck under us, perk." "i hate to let the bully fire die down," perk presently observed, for he never was so happy as when sitting alongside a cheery blaze, puffing at his briarwood pipe, and watching the rings of smoke sail upward. "oh! it wouldn't do to try and keep it going all night," jack told him. "too little stuff for burning, and hard to tote in here. i'll keep my electric hand-torch close beside me, and if there's any occasion for lighting up the cavern i can do it in a jiffy." that seemed to ease perk's mind somewhat, for jack could plainly see the other was somewhat concerned regarding the possibility of their having an unwelcome visitor during the time they were resting from the fatigues of the past day. he watched perk making his preparations for retiring, and just as he anticipated the other was exceedingly careful to pick out a camping place as far removed from that mysterious passage leading out of the central cavern as he possibly could. of course the reason for his so doing was plainly manifest to jack--he could spell it in four letters--b-e-a-r--perk could not wholly dissuade himself that fate meant to play him a nasty trick, and bring him into close quarters with that ferocious monster, the silvertip, or as he was known along the mountains of the coast, "old eph." the distinct smell of burning hair still seemed to linger within reach of his olfactories, and give him a reproachful sensation, as though he felt he had taken a mean advantage of the beast. no such thought worried jack; but then the shadow of guilt did not hang over his head as was the case with perk. "don't forget to wind up your wrist-watch, buddy," warned jack, shortly afterwards; as perk still sat there on his blanket, keeping up his meditative puffing, as though he meant to see the fire to its last flickering extinction. "they're our only reliable guide to tell us when morning comes around. in this black cave we might lie dozing until the middle of the day, without knowing how we were sleeping at the switch, and wasting precious time." "hot-diggetty-dig! partner, haow yeou do jest think o' ever'thing. on'y fur yeou i'd be like a lost lamb awanderin' 'raound the countryside, bleatin', an' shiverin' fur fear the pesky wolves'd get me." "that'll do for you, buddy," jack sternly told him. "we've both got our several good and bad points; but we're essential to each other to make up a working team, six of one, and half a dozen of the other--now, don't let me hear you getting off any of that boloney stuff again, mind." "huh! yeou lets me daown too easy, partner; guess i know my shortcomings better'n anybody else; an' thinkin' ain't much o' a long suite with gabe, not at no time in hist'ry." "well, have it any way you like, perk; but i'm meaning to settle down for a nice nap. just call out if you want a light any old time, and i'll accommodate you before you can say jack robinson. so-long, and here's hoping we'll be able to get a move on before another night sets in." "i sure echoes that wish, boy," muttered perk, seriously; for he realized that they had undertaken one of the most troublesome tasks that could be placed to their credit; and would have need of all the good luck and breaks possible in order to come through. perk having set himself to what he considered a duty, would never let any trivial things deter him; and so he must have sat up with that declining fire until the very last feeble flicker expired; then rolling himself up in his blanket he sought relief in slumber. time went on, the night passed away, and there was not a solitary alarm to give perk a thrill. both of them were very tired, and must have slept soundly, for the first thing perk knew jack turned the dazzling light of his little torch full on his face, arousing him, and then remarked quietly: "time we were stirring, partner--i figure the dawn has got around, when we can start doing things." chapter xxvi a back door to the valley a hasty breakfast was eaten, washed down with a few swigs of cold liquid refreshment, which the ever obliging perk had fetched up in a bottle taken from the ship for the purpose, and filled with coffee from their gallon thermos jug. thus the adventurous pair felt well braced for whatever duties the new day had in store for them. "we'll divide our force for the morning," suggested jack, knowing only too well his chum would take his words in the way of a command, for he occupied the position of leader, and perk was only too willing to accede to each and every suggestion his mate advanced. "jest so, partner," perk instantly commented; "an' what air yeou agoin' to pass on to me, i wanter know?" jack picked up the glasses, and handed them to the other. "you're a vidette on the lookout this morning, buddy," he explained. "up in our old place you'll keep watch on the valley, to note everything that takes place, so you can pass it along to me. keep your eye particularly on those two figures whenever they're in sight--slippery slim garrabrant and the cook, whom i believe to be simeon balderson, a prisoner." "consider it done, ole hoss," perk went on to say, firmly. "yeou'll sure git a report o' all the doin's when we meet agin. anyways i got a purty good mem'ry, if i am short o' some things." "when noon comes by the sun, make your way back to the entrance of our cave, where i'll be waiting with my flashlight to fetch you in here. in the afternoon, possibly both of us will go on guard up above." "i notices, jack, as haow yeou allers say _down here_ when yeou mentions this cave; haow do yeou make that aout, partner?" "it's simple enough, perk, if you stop to remember how we kept descending more or less all the way from where we entered by means of that split in the rocks." perk wagged his head as if to acknowledge that was something absolutely true, even though he himself had not previously noted the fact. "partner, if so be it's jest the same to yeou, may i ask what line yeou goin' to foller while i'm on sentry duty--i likes to be posted, that's all?" "which is perfectly all right, perk; and i'll just say i expect to look around here a bit, and find out a few things that have struck me as possible, even if hardly probable. i'll give you the gist of what success i have in my prowling around when we are taking a snack at noon." "i git yeou, jack, an' it's all to the good with me every time." jack chuckled, for he had noticed the quick and significant glance his comrade shot across the cavern toward that yawning opening marking the tunnel-like passage perk had held in such suspicion just before they wrapped up in their blankets and sought forgetfulness of their troubles. just the same jack did not undertake to explain what he had in mind; it was his usual habit to make his investigations first, and follow up with explanations afterwards, when he had figured things out, and proven his point sound. he convoyed perk close to the opening where the fissure split the rocky wall--here after a laconic "so-long" they separated, and jack retraced his way back along the winding passage. perk again climbed the hill until he was able to creep back of those friendly scrub bushes. here he could lie flat on his stomach, and cautiously survey pretty much all of the wonderful valley spread out before him like a genuine panorama. thus he spent all of the morning, occasionally changing his position when finding that his limbs were becoming more or less cramped. during this time perk was busily storing his mind with dozens of incidental happenings down in the camp of the fugitive criminals, banded together for preying on the forces of law and order, which they held in contempt in carrying out their occasional forays, with defenceless banks, or unprotected trains carrying united states registered-mail sacks, as the objects of their special regard. he thus saw the outlaws' patched-up airplane make an ascent, and head off toward the southeast, rising to pass over the lofty peaks lying in that general direction many miles distant. "kinder guess as haow jack he'll be some int'rested in what i kin tell him 'bout the little cargo they stored in the crazy ole cabin o' thet crate, all right," perk was muttering to himself, while he watched the ship growing less and less distinct, as it soared through a fleecy cloud, and began to look very much like some distant buzzard, or vulture. "'less i'm way off in my figgerin' them three packages might a been the last printin' o' bogus bank notes they was asendin' aout to ther agents in some cities daown texas way. didn't i read in the papers on'y a short time ago, that there never was knowed to be sech a raft o' bad money in the country 'long the rio grande; an' sech good imitations o' uncle sam's genu-ine currency it faized the bank tellers to pick it aout. 'baout time i'd say we got busy, an' stopped up the hole in the dam, 'fore the hull kentry was flooded with the stuff." he knew when it was getting close to noon by the clamor arising down where he lived, and after that kept a close watch on the glowing sun. finally, when the time seemed fully ripe, perk started to creep away, arriving promptly at the fissure, to have jack show himself, and beckon him to come on in. back in the central cavern they built a little fire, in order to save the precious battery of jack's hand-torch; and seated close together proceeded to again lower the stock of eatables. "by close economy we ought to have enough grub to carry us through a couple of days after this one," jack observed, while they were munching what was intended to be a mere lunch; perk announcing his intention of doing a little cooking at their later evening meal, he having fetched along a pound of sliced bacon, a few raw potatoes, and some onions, to which latter he admitted being very partial. "sorry we ain't got any coffee up here," he said, a bit sadly; "but it stands to reason yeou jest caint 'spect everythin' when yeou're on the trail o' bad gunmen like we air right naow. i ain't kickin', remember, jack, ole man." presently, when they had about finished their frugal lunch jack asked his companion to make his report. this perk did, giving many different suggestive happenings that he had noted in rotation, and emphasizing his words at certain points. "you've done a good job, perk," the other assured him, when the end of the story was reached. "in lots of ways what you're reporting strengthens our previous convictions--there can be no possible doubt about the cook being our fellow worker, simeon; and so it goes without saying that when we kick out of here its got to be with two others in our company--slippery slim, and simeon." "that's okay with me, partner," agreed perk, eagerly; "an' we'll keep on deck in this here nest o' snakes 'til we kin put the game through--no matter if we gotter go withaout a bite o' chow fur a hull week--kinder guess i kin stand it as long as yeou kin." "nothing else you noticed, partner?" queried jack. "on'y that the ole crate she skipped off 'bout a hour after i settled daown back o' them nice bushes," came the ready reply; after which perk went on to describe how the man they knew as slippery slim seemed to be so careful of the several packages, and the leather bag he handed over to the pilot of the plane; and which perk was so dead certain must contain the latest printing of notes off the press they could sometimes hear rumbling down at one of the cabins, in and out of which some of the men were so frequently passing. this additional information seemed to please the listening jack exceedingly, to judge from the way he nodded his head, and smiled knowingly. "things are breaking for us, i'd say, buddy," he told his mate, to the other's satisfaction; "and by slow degrees we'll carry on, step by step, until one of these nights we can explode our bomb, and play the game to a finish. but it happens that you haven't got a monopoly of the good news." "hully gee! then yeou been a nosin' 'raound this queer hole back o' the cliff, an' mebbe run acrost somethin' wuth knowin', eh, what, partner?" "just what i have, perk--i started in to explore the black, tunnel-like passage that you kept your eye on last evening." "say, doant tell me yeou run acrost that big hill-billy o' a grizzly, jack?" "you're a bad guesser, matey," he was assured; and then jack added: "found that the passage kept dropping down all the time; and in the end i came to another fissure, with broad daylight ahead--then looked out into the valley; and found i was only some twenty feet from the bottom of the big ditch, perk!" chapter xxvii pike's peak, or----bust! when jack made this dramatic announcement perk manifested such supreme astonishment, coupled with delight, that his eyes looked as if they would jump out of his head. he reached over and clutched the other's hand, which he proceeded to squeeze unmercifully, as he burst out: "hot-diggetty-dig! but _did_ yeou ever hear o' sech great luck in all yeour born days? why, it seems like there might be a back door to the hole-in-the-wall, after all; which mebbe nary a single boob in the bunch has ever discovered!" "i figured it all out while down there, and peeking," jack continued to explain; "and felt certain what you are saying was absolutely true. you see the fissure lies high up on the wall, and there seems to be a narrow slanting shelf running down nearly to the bottom, where green grass is growing that would hide a trail of footsteps wonderfully, if we decided to drop into the valley while night lasted, and investigate; possibly get in touch with friend simeon." "great stuff yeou're a givin' me partner; looks like ever'thing might be arunnin' for a fall with them tough guys. they're so dead sure nawthin' kin reach aout an' git 'em, they trust to dumb luck, an' lays 'raound puttin' on layers o' fat, playin' keerds an' agamblin' away sech cash as they got in the divide-up arter the last scoop." "let's hope fortune will keep on smiling, perk; but just the same we'll keep our wits sharpened, and let no opportunity for making a point pass us by." "huh! guess naow as haow yeou mean we gotter to trust in the lord, but keep aour powder dry; like the ole pilgrim fathers uster do in colonial days,--as i've read in hist'ry." "exactly," concurred jack, to add, as though he could not quite get over the great satisfaction his latest discovery gave him: "but look at the advantage we now have, being able, as i think is certain, to go and come in and out of the valley, without any one being the wiser." "jest so, jack, we doant need to try an' slip past the sentry we reckoned was on duty at the narrer pass--kinder got my goat wonderin' haow in tarnation we was agoin' to chuck _him_ overboard when the time kim along. naow we needn't bother headin' thataway, 'less we wanted to keep them boobs plugged up inside the big hole. doant furgit i fetched along some bombs that cud do the trick, an' mebbe blow up that ere pass sky-high, makin' a reg'lar jumble o' things which they couldn't climb over, it might be." "not a bad idea at all, brother," jack told him, with an admiring look. "when it comes to doing _big_ things, especially with all kinds of bombs, (even to mustard and the tear sort) you take the cake. wait until we get our final plan going, and we'll see what can be done to give them a great scare. with their leader missing, and the entrance to their valley fort laid in ruins, i reckon they'd cut and run for it, thinking uncle sam would now send a force by air ship to round them up." "gosh amighty! but things _do_ look good to me, partner," perk could not help saying again, with his face wreathed in smiles. "well, i'm first meaning to take you down through that passage, and let you have a glimpse out through the second fissure in the cliff. i'd like to make certain, if we dared take the risk, that the sloping little trail is safe enough to let us creep down, and come up again, in case we decided to try and get in touch with simeon this very night!" "wow! that same 'peals to me like all get-aout, partner. le's shake a foot right away an' _go_," was perk's energetic appeal, as he got to his feet, primed for fresh adventure and discoveries--always ready to "do things." accordingly jack led the way into the hole in the wall, his little hand-electric torch lighting up the passage, so there was no risk of either of them stumbling when they "took a chance," as perk would say. later on, after they had arrived at the terminus of the down-grade, jack whispered directions in his chum's ear, and started him off to take his first view of the valley floor from that lower level. perk was extra careful not to expose even his nose, in securing this thrilling survey, and came back fairly bubbling over with excitement, also enthusiasm. they sat there within sight of the daylight streak, talking in whispers, and exchanging comments on the situation. afterwards they both crept forward, and commenced a careful survey, even to poking out a head when it seemed judicious and safe to do so. "perhaps," suggested wise jack, after a while, "we'd better get busy at the old stand, where it's easy to watch everything that goes on in the enclosed valley. i want to fix the points so carefully in my mind, that i could move around in the blackest night, and keep clear of the different huts and shacks." "you would--that's right," commented perk, firm believer that he was in his best pal's ability to carry on where most other men must give up, and seek help; "any feller what could fly blind through the worst sea o' fog that ever was seen, kin do like he had cat's eyes, an' could see things in the pitch dark." "you rate me much too high, brother; if i'm any judge you've got far better vision for distances than i ever boasted. but it's always been one of my pet schemes to build up my memory by what you might call a brain photograph that i can depend on to give me my points when in a fog, or the blackness of midnight. but come on, let's be moving upwards again, perk." before another half hour had expired they were once more crouching back of their friendly brush screen, and taking turns in making good use of the powerful binoculars. "lucky thing, jack, we didn't leave these here bully glasses behind by mistake when we fixed to start on this same little jaunt an' adventure," perk was saying, almost under his breath, as he handed the object in question to his companion, making each movement slowly, so as to keep from attracting attention to the top of the high cliff. "that could never happen to us, brother," jack told him, with conviction in his tones; "because wherever we go in our task of getting some particular man the government wants badly, these same glasses are worth their weight in solid gold--don't make any mistake about that, partner." "huh! i'd say six times over, they air, mister. 'member haow we used 'em daown there in florida, when chasin' after them wind-jammer planes the smugglers were usin' to fetch in all kinds o' stuff that didn't pay any duty--hard booze, diamonds, even yaller chinks what was willin' to set up the long green flimsies so's to get a footin' on u. s. a. soil. they helped us kerry aout aour plans jest fine." the long afternoon slowly passed, and as evening drew on apace jack was ready to call it a full day. "i'm loaded for bear, as they say, perk," he announced, showing signs of giving up the lookout, with the gathering of shadows far down below in the long valley. "i mean by that i fancy i've got all my bearings down pat, and couldn't better the same no matter how much time i spent." "gosh all hemlock! partner, does that same mean we kin get started this very night to make contact with simeon?" demanded the duly thrilled perk, backing out on hands and knees from his covert. "why waste any more time when there's no need?" jack told him. "a bad spell of weather might come along to knock our plans silly; or perhaps these chaps down yonder might have some scheme that would take them pretty much all away on a big lay. we couldn't play our hands if the man we want so badly has gone off with his crowd, to hold up some bank, or treasure train, could we? so while the stars hold out to shine up in the sky, and things seem to be fairly quiet with that mob, we'll see what luck we have. i've got it figured out that simeon must sleep in that dun-colored army tent close to the cookhouse, and dining hall; so that's bound to be our main objective tonight, after we land in the valley." "huh! only thing i got to worryin' 'bout, partner, is _dawgs_," said perk, with a particular emphasis on the last word. "yes, i know they seem to have several bow-wows in the settlement; but as a rule they're common riffraff stuff--never a sign of a police dog, or collie; so we needn't anticipate any trouble from such measly mutts, only good to play with, or gnaw a bone. so let's figure we're going to make connections with simeon tonight, if it's any way possible, or know the reason why." "yeah!" perk added joyously, "pike's peak--or bust, it is--make it unanimous ev'rybody." chapter xxviii invading the tigers' lair having thus decided to begin work that same night, naturally jack and his best pal were more or less concerned as to what the weather promised. as aviators they had become accustomed to securing the very latest government report as to the probabilities ahead, so that by now this had become a habit. the knowledge that there was a strong likelihood of a dense fog along their proposed route--perhaps signs of a war of the elements, not only put them doubly on their guard, but often proved of value in meeting and overcoming the threatening danger. in this instance they had no weather sharp to give them a clue, founded on late wires from different points, as to the velocity of the wind, its direction, the chances of snow or rain, perhaps electrical disturbances in the bargain--now everything must depend on their own ability to figure things out through taking note of the heavens, and kindred storm indicators. jack was a fair weather prophet himself, though never so bold as to claim absolute perfection; yes, and perk too prided himself on knowing considerable, also able to tell when any severe upset was in the offing--though it must be confessed he was rather inclined to depend on an aching corn, or some sort of queer itching in his joints, to be able to prophesy a sudden change in prevailing conditions. so they studied the sky, noted the passage of certain types of clouds, as well as several other heralds of the weather in prospect; and finally agreed that, unless something came along to materially affect matters, they could reasonable expect quite a lengthy spell of seasonable weather. at any rate the fact that both reached the same conclusion was looked upon as promising double insurance--several days would surely see them through their big job, and that was all they asked. accordingly, having settled that part of the arrangement, they started for their underground retreat, feeling that thus far everything seemed to be working in their interest. perk was looking wonderfully pleased, and jack could give a good guess just why this should be so. it had been arranged that on this fateful evening, when their mission was on the eve of taking a fresh spurt, perk was to be permitted to actually _cook a meal_--such as the camp larder allowed. he had asked his comrade concerning the possibility of the odors betraying their hiding place; and jack told him there was not one chance in a hundred of such a thing coming about. "already you've been smoking in our cave, and the odor of your tobacco must have floated out to the open air; but from what we've learned no one ever comes up this way--those lazy panhandlers down there wouldn't bother themselves to scout around. so its perfectly safe to fry your bacon, and even make coffee--if you've got any sort of a vessel to contain the same." "jest leave all that to little perk, senor jack," the other told him, in half suppressed excitement; "i'm the lad as kin sling the hash to beat the band. my innards air yellin' fur a gen-u-ine hot meal, 'cause cold stuff doant seem to touch the spot. git ready to give yeour tummy a treat fur a change." they were back in the cavern when this little discussion took place; and no sooner had a decision been reached than perk commenced his preparations; jack meantime busying himself with pencil and paper, figuring out certain little problems connected with their programme for the night. later on jack began to lift his head, and turn anxious glances toward his busy comrade, meanwhile sniffing the atmosphere, and faintly _smiling_--when a healthy young man, accustomed to feeding on first-class chow, day in and day out, is forced by reason of unusual circumstances to partaking--in limited quantities at that--of cold meals, with an extremely minute bill of fare in the bargain, naturally when once again catching the appetizing whiff of frying rashers of prime bacon, also sliced potatoes; and above all the thrilling odor of boiling java coffee, how could he help displaying his joy at the prospect of such a coming treat? the realization was quite as good as the anticipation, only it must be confessed that when they had dutifully scraped the pan absolutely clean, and squeezed out the last drop of the ambrosia perk had brewed in some sort of a hobo empty quart fruit-can, that chanced to be aboard their ship, neither of them felt filled to capacity. "never mind," jack remarked, observing the rueful expression on his chum's face, and watching him rubbing his stomach, as if to show how far from being distended it was; "the _sample_ was extra fine. just hold your horses until we get back to town, and then the sky is the limit. get that, pard?" "thanks, awfully, jack, ole hoss; i'm agoin' to live on promises fur a short spell; but oh! baby, aint the fur bound to fly when i get workin' my jaws reg'lar onct again?" after that they lay around and waited, for a certain length of time must elapse before it would be safe to start operations. perk asked numerous questions, since as usual certain matters seemed a bit hazy in his mind, never as speedy as that of jack to grasp things. despite these breaks the time hung heavily on their hands, for careful jack refused to pay any heed to all the long sighs that welled up from perk's heart, with the object of hastening the decision. finally, when the impatient one was writhing as if actually in pain, jack took compassion on him. "i reckon we might just as well make a break, buddy; once down at the outlet we can do the balance of our loafing, until it looks safe for us to start. that ought to be well along toward midnight, all depending how soon those noisy card players break up, and hit the hay." earlier in the evening there had been considerable loud talking, calling, and singing among the confederated fugitives; but already much of this was stilled. a number of them, however, seemed to be gathered in the dining hall, gambling--these evidently were the lucky players; those who had already turned in the ones who had in previous bouts been cleaned out, and must hold themselves in check until another foray had been carried out, with fresh plunder divided up among the members of the lawless community. lying there at the crevice that formed a back door to their wonderful cave, the two sky detectives listened, and whispered to each other; meanwhile keeping a close watch on the big log-cabin, where lights could be seen through an opening serving as one of the rude windows, destitute of glass, and closed in cold weather with wooden shutters. "when the last game is played out," jack was saying under his breath, for they were not so far removed from the rough shack in question that talking in ordinary tones would be exceedingly risky; "it's the habit of simeon as sexton and cook of the central ranch, to shut up shop, turn out the lamp and then limp around to the tent where he sleeps, a pretty tired man i'd say. we want to be on hand to give him the tip that strangers are inside the barricades of the valley. then, when he knows who's come to his assistance we can start to make up our plans for the big break." "yeou doant kinder guess simeon he might give us away in his excitement, eh, partner?" perk asked, anxiously, always scenting trouble, it seemed. "not on your life, partner," jack assured him. "simeon has been in the service for a good many years, and learned to control his emotions, no matter what happens. you'll not hear a whisper from his lips when we speak his name--i'd stake anything on that." presently, from indications they believed the last three men had emerged from the dining hall; some one was moving about within, which jack felt certain must be the prisoner who had been forced to play the part of general servant, possibly to humiliate him for his attempt to break up the gang. "it's time we moved along," whispered jack, with which remark he crawled out upon the little ledge, and commenced the rather hazardous task of backing down the incline, each movement being executed with extreme care. it turned out just as they had anticipated, for the sloping ledge kept on to the level of the valley bed, although it must have been next to impossible for any one to distinguish its presence from the level ground. jack led the way, and they were close to the tent, when the last light vanished in the big cabin near by. presently, just as jack had figured with such exactness, a dim figure came slowly around the corner, almost colliding with the crouching pair. chapter xxix all ready for the grand blowout "simeon!" perk held his breath in awe as his pal whispered that one word. an answering voice, very, very low, came back, asking a question; and in another second jack was squeezing the groping hand of the duly thrilled prisoner of the outlaw's hidden retreat. it was considered much too risky for them to remain there, and try to engage in explanations; so jack took the other in tow, and led him over to the foot of the mighty cliff, with perk trailing in. so well taken had jack's calculations been that he hit the exact spot at which the descending slope of rock ended amidst the green grass. in whispers he explained what must be done in order to gain a secure place where they might converse without incurring any risk. with jack leading the way, and perk acting as a buffer in the rear, to prevent the rather unsteady simeon, trembling in every limb from extreme excitement, from falling off the narrow and treacherous ledge, they all managed to presently gain the passage leading to the big central cavern. here they sat down, and a brisk conversation followed between jack and simeon--after perk had been duly introduced to the captive service man. without going into too many details everything was told by jack, to account for the presence of himself and partner in the tigers' den amidst the mountains. then in his turn simeon briefly sketched the mishap in connection with the discovery of himself and companion; sadly admitting that his fellow worker had been shot down and killed in the battle although combined they had diminished the roll-call of the tough gangsters by one bad man slain, and two wounded. "i was myself seriously shot in the left leg," he went on to say; "and undoubtedly would have been tortured, and put to death by those fiends, they hate and despise secret service men so much, only for one thing--slippery slim garrabrant chances to be a brother-in-law of mine--nothing to be proud of, and of which i've never boasted, you may be certain. we married sisters, both of whom have since passed on. he has no love for me, but showed a streak of decency, i must admit, in sparing my life, although letting the gang make me its general servant, and cook. still, things might have been worse with me, and i'm not complaining. i reckoned the chief would do something to learn just what had become of poor ross and myself; but never believed i'd get out of this sweet mess alive." they talked, and conspired for a full hour, when simeon declared it was time he left these new-found allies. some one might happen to come to his tent on an errand, for he served as doctor as well as cook; and thus discover his absence. it was arranged that he come again to the crevice in the cliff the following night, when they could go deeper into the bold scheme jack had suggested, and which appeared to meet with his hearty approval; for he turned out to be just the same type of man as jack ralston himself, a believer in daring and aggressive work. perk managed to explain how short of provisions they chanced to be, and to his extreme delight simeon accommodatingly promised to fetch some eatables with him when he joined them on the following night. after that the pair retraced their steps along the passage, being able, thanks to jack's flashlight, to fight shy of all impediments such as loose stones, and pitfalls that might have given them a bad half hour, had they attempted to proceed in the darkness. again they tried to get some sleep, and jack, who was able to control his feelings better than his mate, succeeded admirably; but perk, more excitable, only secured what he called "cat-naps," being awake a good deal of the night. the following day they spent much as before. perk again trailed down to where the camouflaged airship lay under its covering of evergreens. he took back a few things they were not apt to need, and yet which they disliked leaving behind, once they quitted the neighborhood of the valley; but his main object was to make certain the plane was safe, and in condition for a quick take-off in case such became a necessity, as was likely. jack on his part added materially to his knowledge of things, and in a fashion touched up portions of his intended programme, to be carried out whenever simeon, who could best know, told them conditions looked most promising. much to perk's relief simeon did not fail them; and then, too, he brought a promising bit of plunder in the shape of provisions, which came from the commissary of the settlement, and of which he held the key. another hour of talk followed, and further details of their great plan were discussed. simeon assured them the opportunity for which they waited was certain to arrive on the following night, so they must make all preparations to put their confidence to the test and expect to quit the game, it was to be hoped with a victory set down to their credit. on the following day a party of the marauders planned to set out on a most important raid, that promised unusually great plunder. slim garrabrant could not accompany them that particular time, having injured his right arm so that he must be unsteady in the saddle; which fact jack observed virtually cinched the plan they had been arranging. if all went well, after the party had gone forth, simeon before dark would as if by chance throw a red cloth on top of the big cabin; which would be a signal that the coast was clear, and everything ready for their working scheme. when the following day came along, perk was for the third time dispatched along his former trail down the mountain-side. this time he carried quite a load on his strong back; for, as they anticipated not having to spend another night in the tom sawyer cave--perk always called it by that suggestive name that carried him back to his own boyhood dreaming, and reading--he was taking pretty much all the things he had toted up the ascent shortly before, so they could be safely stowed away in the airship's cabin. everything thus far had gone along like clockwork--if only there was no slip after they had started their attempt to take slim prisoner, the chances for a regular old-fashioned cleanup looked bright, perk kept telling himself. he got back to jack's side in due time, with nothing transpiring calculated to breed trouble. they ate their last meal in the cave, and then passing down to their secret exit, waited for the time to come when they could translate planning into action, and endeavor to bring about a successful windup of their mission. chapter xxx the end of robbers' roost----conclusion looking back when all this was but a memory, it must always seem like a dream to perk. everything moved along smoothly as if in grooves. they joined the waiting simeon alongside the big cabin, and he led them to the hut which slim occupied by himself, because of his being the acknowledged leader and "high-muck-a-muck"--as perk always had it--of the outlaw league. they took the occupant completely by surprise, and a smart blow on the head kept him still until they could secure his arms, and fasten a cloth over his mouth to prevent his giving the alarm. then he was hustled outside, and with jack on one side and simeon on the other convoyed as noiselessly as possible to the mouth of the valley, and the narrow pass. perk had vanished for the time being, but joined them about the time they reached their objective, acting as though secretly pleased over something he had just carried out. jack had a suspicion as to its character, having heard the other muttering certain threats that were aimed at the miserable but useful old ship, manipulated by the counterfeiters in bringing in supplies, and distributing the result of their latest printing. the next thing on the program was to overcome the sentry just beyond the outer end of the narrow cleft, where the walls lifted themselves hundreds of feet above the passage in to the valley. this was accomplished by jack himself, unaided--he crept up behind the dozing man, dealt him a blow on the head, and tumbled him in a heap. thus their way was cleared, and they could proceed to the place where their ship awaited their coming. "gimme me jest five minits, fellers," perk besought the others; whereupon jack fell upon the senseless vidette and dragged him some distance away--it was an act of mercy, since the man must have been killed otherwise, when perk completed his little arrangement; for it had been settled between jack and himself that, in order to convince these tough lawbreakers they could no longer depend on their hole-in-the-wall to hide them from those who were ever on their trail, the overhanging walls of the pass must be brought down in a heap of ruins, that would forever choke all entrance and exit in and out of the valley. "all set, jack--she's fixed, an' goin' like wildfire--let's clear out _pronto_, 'fore she gets busy!" perk was crying, in some little excitement. as they moved hurriedly off there came the loud sound of an explosion from within the cliff encircled valley. "that's on'y the little bomb i stuck under that rattletrap airship to send it in the wust wreck ever," explained perk, he kept looking back while trailing the others. loud yells and whoops reached them from within the barrier. showing how those of the gangsters left behind were expressing their astonishment and alarm at such an unheard of happening in their midst. "huh! that ain't jest _nawthin'_ to what--" but what perk intended to say was drowned in a most terrific explosion, that made the rocky surface of the earth under their feet quiver like an animal in its death throes. a vivid sheet of flame darted upwards--then there came a sickening crash after crash as if the whole mountain were toppling down, with fragments falling for half a minute after. fortunately they were far enough away by that time to escape any possible damage. simeon in particular seemed to be deliriously happy; it was as though in this utter destruction of the robber roost he found solace for the death of his late companion; also all the insults and indignities to which he himself had been subjected at the hands of those tough gunmen. reaching the ship they went aboard. then came the last critical act of the moving drama--getting the big plane safely launched with such difficulties to contend with. but, as if to add a finishing touch to jack ralston's usual luck--also due in great part to his skill, and efficiency--this hazard was safely passed, the launching followed by their thrilling climb into the air spaces, with unlimited possibilities awaiting their choice of a route. apparently, as perk was saying to himself, it was "all over but the shouting;" and he imagined there had been quite enough of that when the startled inmates of the blocked valley heard that dreadful thunderous sound typifying the collapse of the organization of defiant lawbreakers clever slim garrabrant had built up, partly to show his contempt for uncle sam's thief catchers. slim, by the way, after he had recovered from the blow received at the time of his surprise, and capture, exhibited an utter indifference as to what became of him. he even laughed, as if absolutely free from any concern; and joked with perk as the airship raced through illimitable space, declaring it was one thing to nab him, and a horse of another color to hold him. "bet you three to one you two boys will have your same old job to do over again before six months have gone into the discard," he shouted, humorously; but perk only grinned, and shook his head; at the same time wondering if the rest of their lives were really to be taken up with chasing after this slippery customer, and curbing his pernicious activities. having the whole day ahead of them, jack did not mean to put his cherished aircraft to its best licks--plenty of time; and actually he dreaded receiving the anticipated thanks and compliments from the big boss over at the washington headquarters; in which jack surely differed vastly from most men of his dangerous calling, who would be only too willing to stand in his shoes. after delivering their prisoner, just as jolly and unconcerned as ever, over to the federal officials at los angeles, jack and perk headed for san diego, the latter wild with an eagerness to "fill up to capacity" at their beloved restaurant. they carried simeon along with them, having a spare cot in their room to which he was more than welcome, for a day or two, until an answer came to his wire to headquarters, ordering him doubtless to report, and tell his dramatic story in person, after which he would be given a vacation to fully recover his broken health. jack had a purpose in this besides the wish to see more of a man whom he respected so much. he had heard simeon say that he and slim garrabrant had married sisters, both of whom were no longer on this earth. this had set jack to speculating, concerning the old lady named mrs. ferguson, grandmother to the handsome little boy whom he and perk--principally perk--had saved from the cruel fangs of a mad dog, as narrated in the early pages of this book. he introduced the subject by asking simeon if he would like to hear where they had picked up some kind of a clue covering slim garrabrant; and upon the other eagerly saying he certainly did, there followed the brief story of the strange adventure of main street, in one of san diego's suburbs. when he spoke of their discovering the picture of slim on the wall of that cottage, and incidentally mentioned the old lady, simeon was greatly shaken. he clutched jack by the arm, perk staring open-mouthed, not quite understanding the drift of things--and in broken language begged him to tell some more--what about the old lady--did they know her name--and was it mrs. leonore ferguson; and what of the lad--was he apparently in good health? "i'm asking you jack, because he is _my own_, my beloved little walter, the only legacy my dear wife left me to remember her by, when she passed away. there was a fire in the building where they lived, something like a year and a half ago; and hunt as i would i never could get a trace of my dear ones. to think that, not content with saving my own life, you two should be the means of my being once more reunited with all i have in the world! take me to see them without delay, if only you will, and i shall never, never cease to bless both you gallant comrades." inside of an hour he had his boy pressed close to his heart, and even perk who sometimes liked to call himself a "hard-boiled guy," turned away to wipe the unbidden tears from his cheeks. of course in due time they heard from headquarters, with more or less words of high praise, such as seldom spring from such offices where uncle sam's secret service agents do their business without expectation of anything more than routine acknowledgment. they were given quite an extensive holiday until there came up another knotty problem which might be submitted to their solving. that such _did_ come along sooner than expected can be understood by the title of the story following this, viz: "_flying the coast skyways_," or, "_jack ralston's swift patrol_." the end ------------------------------------------------------------------------ all american sport series by harold m. sherman harold m. sherman, one of the most popular authors of boys' books needs no introduction to the vast majority of young readers. to boys who like, as every red-blooded boy must, these high type sport stories, we dedicate this series. football interference football it's a pass! football over the line basketball under the basket ice hockey down the ice base ball strike him out tennis the tennis terror the goldsmith publishing co. new york ------------------------------------------------------------------------ books for boys * * * * * the go ahead boys series _by_ ross kay "be sure you're right, then go ahead," was the advice old davy crockett left for succeeding generations and here is presented a series of rattling good adventure stories which every live "go ahead" boy will read with unflagging interest. there is action, dash and snap in every tale. on smuggler's island in the island camp the treasure cave the racing motor mysterious old house simon's mine * * * * * the musket boys series _by_ george a. warren here is a fine series for every boy who loves his country. these stories make you feel as if you were living through the strenuous revolutionary days from the beginning of the struggle at lexington and concord to the victorious conclusion of that historical conflict. the musket boys at old boston the musket boys under washington the musket boys on the delaware * * * * * the lend-a-hand boys series _by_ st. george rathborne companion books for boy scouts "the lend-a-hand boys"--a group of boys who stick together through thick and thin, through high adventure and scrapes. they are always trying to do some good and have a tough time doing so. each book is a complete story in itself. lend-a-hand boys of carthage lend-a-hand boys sanitary squad lend-a-hand boys team work lend-a-hand boys as wild game protectors the goldsmith publishing co. new york, n. y. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the outdoor chums s e r i e s _by_ captain quincy allen * * * * * the outdoor chums on the lake in the forest on the gulf after big game on a house boat in the big woods at cabin point * * * * * for lovers of the great outdoors (and what boy is not?) this "outdoor chums" series will be a rare treat. after you have read the first book and followed the fortunes of the "chums," you will realize the pleasure the other seven volumes have in store for you. these rollicking lads know field, forest, mountain, sea and stream--and the books contain much valuable information on woodcraft and the living of an outdoor life. * * * * * the goldsmith publishing co. new york, n. y. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ books for boys * * * * * the tim murphy series by graham m. dean graham m. dean is a newspaper editor. he lives and knows how to tell the romance of newspapering. tim murphy learns how to fly at the expense of the "atkinson news" because the editor firmly believes some of the biggest news stories will break above the clouds. every boy and girl imbued with the spirit of adventure will want to read these books. daring wings sky trail * * * * * air monster by edwin green a story of the world's largest dirigible and of the dangers in the frozen wastes of the arctic--a combination sure to provide thrills for every reader. what befalls this "air monster" on the arctic trip is only a part of the smashing action of this great book for boys. * * * * * extra by george morse baffling mystery, startling disappearances, roaring presses, etc., the tenseness of the deadline hour of great newspapers--all these and more are in this book written by a newspaper man in a style every young reader will enjoy. * * * * * the goldsmith publishing co. new york ------------------------------------------------------------------------ transcriber's note: . obvious typographical errors were corrected without note. . non-standard spellings and dialect were retained. generously made available by internet archive (https://archive.org) note: images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/britainsdeadlype lequrich britain's deadly peril are we told the truth? by william le queux author of "german spies in england" london stanley paul & co essex street, strand, w.c. first published in copyright in the united states of america by william le queux, contents foreword page the unknown to-morrow chapter i the peril of "muddling through" chapter ii the peril of exploiting the poor chapter iii the peril of not doing enough chapter iv the peril of the censorship chapter v the peril of the press bureau chapter vi the peril of the enemy alien chapter vii the peril of deluding the public chapter viii the peril of invasion chapter ix the peril of apathy chapter x the peril of stifling the truth chapter xi facts to remember foreword the unknown to-morrow the following pages--written partly as a sequel to my book "german spies in england," which has met with such wide popular favour--are, i desire to assure the reader, inspired solely by a stern spirit of patriotism. this is not a book of "scaremongerings," but of plain, hard, indisputable facts. it is a demand for the truth to be told, and a warning that, by the present policy of secrecy and shuffle, a distinct feeling of distrust has been aroused, and is growing more and more apparent. no sane man will, of course, ask for any facts concerning the country's resources or its intentions, or indeed any information upon a single point which, in the remotest way, could be of any advantage to the barbaric hordes who are ready to sweep upon us. but what the british people to-day demand is a sound and definite pronouncement which will take them, to a certain extent, into the confidence of the government--as apart from the war office, against which no single word of criticism should be raised--and at the same time deal effectively with certain matters which, being little short of public scandals, have irritated and inflamed public opinion at an hour when every man in our empire should put forth his whole strength for his god, his king, and his country. germany is facing the present situation with a sound, businesslike policy, without any vacillation, or any attempt to shift responsibility from one department of the state to another. are we doing the same? what rule or method can be discerned, for example, in a system which allows news to appear in the papers in scotland which is suppressed in the newspapers in england? why, indeed, should one paper in england be permitted to print facts, and another, published half a mile away, be debarred from printing the self-same words? the public--who, since august th last, are no longer school-children under the head-mastership of the prime-minister-for-the-time-being--are now wondering what all this curious censorship means, and for what reason such an unreliable institution--an institution not without its own scandals, and employing a thousand persons of varying ideas and warped notions--should have been established. they can quite understand the urgent necessity of preventing a horde of war correspondents, at the front, sending home all sorts of details regarding our movements and intentions, but they cannot understand why a government offer of £ reward, published on placards all over scotland for information regarding secret bases of petrol, should be forbidden to be even mentioned in england. they cannot understand why the admiralty should issue a notice warning the public that german spies, posing as british officers, are visiting government factories while at the same time the under-secretary for war declares that all enemy aliens are known, and are constantly under police surveillance. they cannot understand either why, in face of the great imports of foodstuffs, and the patriotic movement on the part of canada and our overseas dominions concerning our wheat supply, prices should have been allowed to increase so alarmingly, and unscrupulous merchants should be permitted to exploit the poor as they have done. they are mystified by the shifty shuttlecock policy which is being pursued towards the question of enemy aliens, and the marked disinclination of the authorities to make even the most superficial inquiry regarding cases of suspected espionage, notwithstanding the fact that german spies have actually been recognised among us by refugees from antwerp and other belgian cities. the truth, which cannot be disguised, is that by the government's present policy, and the amusing vagaries of its press censorship, the public are daily growing more and more apathetic concerning the war. while, on the one hand, we see recruiting appeals in all the clever guises of smart modern advertising, yet on the other, by the action of the authorities themselves, the man-in-the-street is being soothed into the belief that all goes well, and that, in consequence, no more men are needed and nobody need worry further. we are told by many newspapers that germany is at the end of her tether: that food supplies are fast giving out, that she has lost millions of men, that her people are frantic, that a "stop the war" party has already arisen in berlin, and that the offensive on the eastern frontier is broken. at home, the authorities would have us believe that there is no possibility of invasion, that german submarines are "pirates"--poor consolation indeed--that all alien enemies are really a deserving hardworking class of dear good people, and that there is no spy-peril. a year ago the british public would, perhaps, have believed all this. to-day they refuse to do so. why they do not, i have here attempted to set out; i have tried to reveal something of the perils which beset our nation, and to urge the reader to pause and reflect for himself. every word i have written in this book, though i have been fearless and unsparing in my criticism, has been written with an honest and patriotic intention, for i feel that it is my duty, as an englishman, in these days of national peril to take up my pen--without political bias--solely for the public good. i ask the reader to inquire for himself, to ascertain how cleverly germany has hoodwinked us, and to fix the blame upon those who wilfully, and for political reasons, closed their eyes to the truth. i would ask the reader to remember the formation in germany--under the guidance of the kaiser--of the society for the promotion of better relations between germany and england, and how the kaiser appointed, as president, a certain herr von holleben. i would further ask the reader to remember my modest effort to dispel the pretty illusion placed before the british public by exposing, in _the daily telegraph_, in march , the fact that this very herr von holleben, posing as a champion of peace, was actually the secret emissary sent by the kaiser to the united states in , with orders to make an anti-english press propaganda in that country! and a week after my exposure the emperor was compelled to dismiss him from his post. too long has dust been thrown in our eyes, both abroad and at home. let every briton fighting for his country, and working for his country's good, remember that even though there be a political truce to-day, yet the day of awakening must dawn sooner or later. on that day, with the conscience of the country fully stirred, the harmless--but to-day powerless--voter will have something bitter and poignant to say when he pays the bill. he will then recollect some hard facts, and ask himself many plain questions. he will put to himself calmly the problem whether the present german hatred of england is not mainly due to the weak shuffling sentimentalism and opportunism of germanophils in high places. and he will then search out britain's betrayers, and place them in the pillory. assuredly, when the time comes, all these things--and many more--will be remembered. and the dawn of the unknown to-morrow will, i feel assured, bring with it many astounding and drastic changes. william le queux. devonshire club, s.w. _april ._ britain's deadly peril chapter i the peril of "muddling through" has britain, in the course of her long history, ever been prepared for a great war? i do not believe she has; she certainly was not ready last august, when the kaiser launched his thunderbolt upon the world. perhaps, paradoxical as it may seem, this perpetual unreadiness may be, in a sense, part of britain's strength. we are a people slow of speech, and slow to anger. it takes much--very much--to rouse the british nation to put forth its full strength. "beware of the wrath of the man slow to anger" is a useful working maxim, and it may be that the difficulty of arousing england is, in some degree, a measure of her terrible power once she is awakened. twice or thrice, at least, within living memory we have been caught all unready when a great crisis burst upon us--in the crimea, in south africa, and now in the greatest world-conflict ever seen. hitherto, thanks to the amazing genius for improvisation which is characteristic of our race, we have "muddled through" somehow, often sorely smitten, sorely checked, but roused by reverses to further and greater efforts. the bulldog tenacity that has ever been our salvation has been aroused in time, and we have passed successfully through ordeals which might have broken the spirit and crushed the resistance of nations whose mental and physical fibre was less high and less enduring. we have "muddled through" in the past: shall we "muddle through" again? it is the merest truism--patent to all the world--that when germany declared war, we were quite unready for a contest. for years the nation had turned a deaf ear to all warnings. the noble efforts of the late lord roberts, who gave the last years of his illustrious life--despite disappointments, and the rebuffs of people in high places who ought to have known--nay, who did know--that his words were literally true, passed unheeded. lord roberts, the greatest soldier of the victorian era, a man wise in war, and of the most transcendent sincerity, was snubbed and almost insulted, inside and outside the house of commons, by a parcel of upstarts who, in knowledge and experience of the world and of the subject, were not fit to black his boots. "an alarmist and scaremonger" was perhaps the least offensive name that these worthies could find for him: and it was plainly hinted that he was an old man in his dotage. lulled into an unshakable complacency by the smooth assurances of placeholders in comfortable jobs, the nation remained serenely asleep, and never was a country less ready for the storm that burst upon us last august. i had, in my writings--"the invasion of england" and other works--also endeavoured to awaken the public; but if they would not listen to "bobs," it was hardly surprising that they jeered at me. i am speaking of the nation as a whole. to their eternal honour let it be said that there were nevertheless some who, for years, had foreseen the danger, and had done what lay in their power to meet it. foremost among these we must place mr. winston churchill, and the group of brilliant officers who are now the chiefs of the british army on the continent. to them, at least, i hope history will do full justice. it was no mere coincidence that just before the outbreak of war our great fleet--the mightiest armada that the world has ever seen--was assembled at spithead, ready, to the last shell and the last man, for any eventuality. it was no mere coincidence that the magnificent first division at aldershot, trained to the minute by men who knew their business, were engaged when war broke out in singularly appropriate "mobilisation exercises." all honour to the men who foresaw the world-peril, and did their utmost to make our pitiably insufficient forces ready, as far as fitness and organisation could make them ready, for the great day when their courage and endurance were to be so severely tested. but when all this is said and admitted, it is clear that our safety, in the early days of the war, hung by a hair. afloat, of course, we were more than a match for anything germany could do, and our fleet has locked our enemy in with a strangling grip that we hope is slowly choking out her industrial and commercial life. ashore, however, our position was perilous in the extreme. men's hair whitened visibly during those awful days when the tiny british army, fighting heroically every step of the way against overwhelming odds, was driven ever back and back until, on the banks of the marne, it suddenly turned at bay and, by sheer matchless valour, hurled the legions of the kaiser back to ruin and defeat. the retreat was stayed, the enemy was checked and driven back, but the margin by which disaster was averted and turned into triumph was so narrow that nothing but the most superb heroism on the part of our gallant lads could have saved the situation. we had neglected all warnings, and we narrowly escaped paying an appalling price in the destruction of the flower of the british army. with insufficient forces, we had again "muddled through" by the dogged valour of the british private. to-day we are engaged in "muddling through" on a scale unexampled in our history. the government have taken power to raise the british army to a total of three million men. in our leisurely way we have begun to make new armies in the face of an enemy who for fifty years has been training every man to arms, in the face of an enemy who for ten or fifteen years at least has been steadily, openly, and avowedly preparing for the day when he could venture, with some prospect of success, to challenge the sea supremacy by which we live, and move, and have our being, and lay our great empire in the dust. we neglected all warnings; we calmly ignored our enemy's avowed intentions; we closed our eyes and jeered at all those who told the truth; we deliberately, and of choice, elected to wait until war was upon us to begin our usual process of "muddling through." truly we are an amazing people! yet we should remember that the days when one englishman was better than ten foreigners have passed for ever. naturally, our preference for waiting till the battle opened before we began to train for the fight led us into some of the most amazing muddles that even our military history can boast of. when the tocsin of war rang out, our young men poured to the colours from every town and village in the country. everybody but the war office expected it. the natural result followed: recruiting offices were simply "snowed under" with men, and for weeks we saw the most amazing chaos. the flood of men could neither be equipped nor housed, nor trained, and confusion reigned supreme. we had an endless series of scandals at camps, into which i do not propose to enter: probably, with all the goodwill in the world, they were unavoidable. still the flood of men poured in. the war office grew desperate. it was, clearly, beyond the capacity of the organisation to handle the mass of recruits, and then the war office committed perhaps its greatest blunder. unable to accept more men, it raised the physical standard for recruits. no one seems to have conceived the idea that it would have been better to take the names of the men and call them up as they were needed. naturally the public seized upon the idea that enough men had been obtained, and there was an instant slump in recruiting which, despite the most strenuous of advertising campaigns--carried out on the methods of a vendor of patent medicines--has, unfortunately, not yet been overcome. following, came a period of unexampled chaos at the training-centres. badly lodged, badly fed, clothed in ragged odds and ends of "uniforms," without rifles or bayonets, it is simply a marvel that the men stuck to their duty, and it is surely a glowing testimony to their genuine patriotism. i do not wish to rake up old scandals, and i am not going to indulge in carping criticism of the authorities because they were not able to handle matters with absolute smoothness when, each week, they were getting very nearly a year's normal supply of recruits. confusion and chaos were bound to be, and i think the men--on the whole--realised the difficulties, and made the best of a very trying situation. but they were britons! my object is simply to show how serious was our peril through our unpreparedness. if our enemy, in that time of preparation, could have struck a blow directly at us, we must, inevitably, have gone under in utter ruin. happily, our star was in the ascendant. the magnificent heroism of belgium, the noble recovery of the french nation after their first disastrous surprise, the unexampled valour of our army, and the silent pressure of the navy, saved us from the peril that encompassed us. once again we had "muddled through" perhaps the worst part of our task. no one can yet say that we are safe. this war is very far indeed from being won, for there is yet much to do, and many grave perils still threaten us. it is, perhaps, small consolation to know that most of the perils we brought upon ourselves by our persistent and foolish refusal to face plain and obvious facts: by our toleration of so-called statesmen who, fascinated by the kaiser's glib talk, came very near to betraying england by their refusal to tell the country the truth, or even, without telling the country, to make adequate preparations to meet a danger which had been foreseen by every chancellory in europe for years past. it can never be said that we were not warned, plainly and unmistakably. the report of the amazing speech of the kaiser, which i have recorded elsewhere, i placed in the hands of the british secret service as early as , and the fact that it had been delivered was soon abundantly verified by confidential inquiries in official circles in berlin. yet, with the knowledge of that speech before them, ministers could still be found to assure us that germany was our firm and devoted friend! the kaiser, in the course of the secret speech in question, openly outlined his policy and said: "our plans have been most carefully laid and prepared by our general staff. preparations have been made to convey at a word a german army of invasion of a strength able to cope with any and all the troops that great britain can muster against us. it is too early yet to fix the exact date when the blow shall be struck, but i will say this: that we shall strike as soon as i have a sufficiently large fleet of zeppelins at my disposal. i have given orders for the hurried construction of more airships of the improved zeppelin type, and when these are ready we shall destroy england's north sea, channel, and atlantic fleets, after which nothing on earth can prevent the landing of our army on british soil and its triumphal march to london. "you will desire to know how the outbreak of hostilities will be brought about. i can assure you on this point. certainly we shall not have to go far to find a just cause for war. my army of spies, scattered over great britain and france, as it is over north and south america, as well as all the other parts of the world where german interests may come to a clash with a foreign power, will take good care of that. i have issued already some time since secret orders that will at the proper moment accomplish what we desire. "i shall not rest and be satisfied until all the countries and territories that once were german, or where greater numbers of my former subjects now live, have become a part of the great mother country, acknowledging me as their supreme lord in war and peace. even now i rule supreme in the united states, where almost one-half of the population is either of german birth or of german descent, and where three million german voters do my bidding at the presidential elections. no american administration could remain in power against the will of the german voters, who ... control the destinies of the vast republic beyond the sea. "i have secured a strong foothold for germany in the near east, and when the turkish 'pilaf' pie will be partitioned, asia minor, syria, and palestine--in short, the overland route to india--will become our property. but to obtain this we must first crush england and france." and, in the face of those words, we still went on money-grubbing and pleasure-seeking! if ever the british empire, following other great empires of the past, plunges downward to rack and ruin, we may rest assured that the reason will be our reliance on our ancient and stereotyped policy of "muddling through." i am glad to think that in the conduct of the present campaign we have been spared those scandals of the baser type which, in the past, have been such an unsavoury feature of almost every great war in which we have been engaged. minor instances of fraud and peculation, of supplying doubtful food, etc., have no doubt occurred. human nature being what it is, it could hardly be expected that we could raise, train, equip, and supply an army numbered by millions without some unscrupulous and unpatriotic individuals seizing the opportunity to line their pockets by unlawful means. we hear occasional stories of huts unfit for human habitation, of food in camp hardly fit for human consumption. on the whole, however, it is cordially agreed--and it is only fair to say--that there has been an entire absence of the shocking scandals of the type which revolted the nation during the crimean campaign. much has been said about the war office arrangement with mr. meyer for the purchase of timber. but the main allegation, even in this case, is that the war office made an exceedingly bad and foolish bargain, and mr. meyer an exceedingly good one. indeed it is not even suggested that the transaction involved anything in the nature of fraud. it seems rather to be a plea that the purely commercial side of war would be infinitely better conducted by committees of able business men than by permanent officials of the war office, who are, after all, not very commercial. undoubtedly this is true. we should be spared a good deal of the muddling and waste involved in our wars if, on the outbreak of hostilities, the war office promptly asked the leading business men of the community to form committees and take over and manage for the benefit of the nation the purely commercial branches of the work. yet i suppose, under our system of government, such an obvious common-sense procedure as this could hardly be hoped for. we continue to leave vast commercial undertakings in the hands of the men who are not bred in business, with the result that money is wasted by millions, and so are lucky if we are not swindled on a gigantic scale by the unscrupulous contractors. it is usually in an army's food and clothing that scandals of this nature are revealed, and it is only just to the war office to say that in this campaign, for once, food has been good and clothing fair. most of our muddling, so far, has been of a nature tending to prolong the duration of the war. our persistent policy of unreadiness has simply meant that for four, five, or six long months we have not been ready to take the field with the forces imperatively necessary if the germans are to be hurled, neck and crop, out of belgium and france across the rhine, and their country finally occupied and subjugated. already another new and graver peril is threatening us--the peril of a premature and inconclusive peace. already the voice of the pacifist--that strangely constituted being to whom the person of the enemy is always sacred--is being heard in the land. we heard it in the boer war from the writers and speakers paid by germany. already the plea is going up that germany must not be "crushed"--that germany, who has made belgium a howling wilderness, who has massacred men, women, and even little children, in sheer cold-blooded lust, shall be treated with the mild consideration we extend to a brave and honourable opponent. sure it is, therefore, that if britain retires from this war with her avowed purpose unfulfilled, we shall have been guilty of muddling compared with which the worst we have ever done in the past will be the merest triviality. if this war has proved one thing more clearly than another, it has proved that the german is utterly and absolutely unfit to exercise power, that he is restrained by no moral consideration from perpetuating the most shocking abominations in pursuit of his aims, that the most sacred obligations are as dust in the balance when they conflict with his supposed interests. it has proved too, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that england is the real object of germany's foaming hate. we are the enemy! france and russia are merely incidental foes. it is england that stands between germany and the realisation of her insane dream of world dominion, and unless great britain to-day completes, with british thoroughness, the task to which she has set her hand, this generation, and the generations that are to come, will never be freed from the blighting shadow of teutonic megalomania. it is quite conceivable that a peace which would be satisfactory to russia and france would be profoundly unsatisfactory to us. happily, the allies are solemnly bound to make peace jointly or not at all, and i trust there will be no wavering on this point. for us there is but one line of safety: the germanic power for mischief must be finally and irretrievably broken before britain consents to sheathe the sword. against the prosecution of the war to its final and crushing end, the bleating pacifists are already beginning to raise their puny voices. i am not going to give these gentlemen the free advertisement that their hearts delight in by mentioning them by name: it is not my desire to assist, in the slightest degree, their pestilential activity. they form one of those insignificant minorities who are inherently and essentially unpatriotic. their own country is invariably wrong, and other countries are invariably right. to-day they are bleating, in the few unimportant journals willing to publish their extraordinary views, that germany ought to be spared the vengeance called for by her shameful neglect of all the laws of god and man. is there a reader of these lines who will heed them? surely not. burke said it was impossible to draw up an indictment against a nation: germany has given him the lie. our pro-german apologists and pacifists are fond of laying the blame of every german atrocity, upon the shoulders of that mysterious individual--the "prussian militarist." i reply--and my words are borne out by official evidence published in my recent book "german atrocities"--that the most shameful and brutal deeds of the german army, which, be it remembered, is the german people in arms, are cordially approved by the mass of that degenerate nation. the appalling record of german crime in belgium, the entire policy of "frightfulness" by land and sea, the murder of women and children at scarborough, the sack of aerschot and of louvain, the massacre of seven hundred men, women, and children in dinant, the piratical exploits of the german submarines, are all hailed throughout germany with shrieks of hysterical glee. and why? because it is recognised that, in the long run and in the ultimate aim, they are a part and parcel of a policy which has for its end the destruction of our own beloved empire. hatred of britain--the one foe--has been, for years, the mainspring that has driven the german machine. the germans do not hate the french, they do not hate the russians, they do not even hate the "beastly belgians," whose country they have laid waste with fire and sword. the half-crazed lissauer shrieks aloud that germans "have but one hate, and one alone--england," and the mass of the german people applaud him to the echo. very well, let us accept, as we do accept, the situation. are we going to neglect the plainest and most obvious warning ever given to a nation, and permit ourselves to muddle into a peace that would be no peace, but merely a truce in which germany would bend her every energy to the preparation of another bitter war of revenge? here lies one of the gravest perils by which our country is to-day faced, and it is a peril immensely exaggerated by the foolish peace-talk in which a section of malevolent busybodies are already indulging. it is as certain as the rising of to-morrow's sun that, when this war is over, germany would, if the power were left within her, embark at once on a new campaign of revenge. we have seen how, for forty-five long years, the french have cherished in their hearts the hope of recovering the fair provinces wrested from them in the war of - . and the french, be it remembered, are not a nation capable of nourishing a long-continued national hatred. generous, proud, and intensely patriotic they are; malicious and revengeful they emphatically are not. as patriotic in their own way as the french, the germans have shown themselves capable of a paroxysm of national hatred to which history offers no parallel. they have realised, with a sure instinct, that britain, and britain alone, has stood in the way of the realisation of their grandiose scheme of world-dominion, and it is certain that for long years to come, possibly for centuries, they will, if we give them the opportunity, plot our downfall and overthrow us. are we to muddle the business of making peace as we muddled the preparations for war? if we do we shall, assuredly, deserve the worst fate that can be reserved for a nation which deliberately shuts its eyes to the logic of plain and demonstrable fact. germany can never be adequately punished for the crimes against god and man which she has committed in belgium and france. the ancient law of "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" is the only one under which adequate punishment could be meted out, and whatever happens we know that the soldiers of the allies will never be guilty of the unspeakable calendar of pillage and arson and murder which has made the very name of "german" a byword throughout civilisation throughout all the ages that are to come. however thoroughly she is humbled to the dust, germany will never taste the unspeakable horror that she has brought upon the helpless and unoffending victims of her fury and lust in belgium and in parts of france. it may be that if they fall into our hands we should hang, as they deserve to be hanged, the official instigators of atrocities whose complicity could be clearly proved--though we, to-day, give valets to the huns at donington hall. we cannot lay the cities of germany in ruin, and massacre the civilian population on the approved german plan. what we can do, and ought to do, is to make sure that, at whatever cost of blood and treasure to us, germany is deprived of any further capacity to menace the peace of the world. it is the plain and obvious duty of the allies to see that the hateful and purely german doctrine that might is the only right shall, once and for all, be swept from the earth. it is for us to make good the noble words of mr. asquith--that britain will prosecute the war to the finish. it is for us to see that there shall be no "muddling through" when the treaty of peace is finally signed in berlin. when the war was forced upon us, the best business brains of this country recognised that one of the surest and speediest means of securing an efficient guarantee that germany should not be able to injure us in the future would be a strenuous effort to capture her enormous foreign trade. modern wars, it must be remembered, are not merely a matter of the clash of arms on the stricken field. the enormous ramifications of commercial undertakings, immeasurably greater to-day than at any time in history, mean that, in the conduct of a great campaign, economic weapons may be even more powerful than the sword of the big battalions. this unquestionable fact has been fully realised by our leading thinkers. thoughtless people have been heard to say that, if france and russia wish to conclude peace, england must necessarily join with them because she cannot carry on the war alone. there could be no greater mistake. just so long as the british fleet holds the command of the sea, germany's foreign trade is in the paralysing grip of an incubus which cannot be shaken off. in the meantime, all the seas of all the world are free to our ships and our commerce, and, though the volume of world-trade is necessarily diminished by the war, there remains open to british manufacturers an enormous field which has been tilled hitherto mainly by german firms. we may now ask ourselves whether our business men are taking full advantage of this priceless opportunity offered them for building up and consolidating a commercial position which in the future, when the war is ended, will be strong enough to defy even the substantial attacks of their german competitors. i sincerely wish i could see some evidence of it. i wish i could feel that our business men of england were looking ahead, studying methods and markets, and planning the campaigns which, in the days to come, shall reach their full fruition. but alas! they are not. we heard many empty words, when war broke out, of the war on germany's trade, but i am very much afraid--and my view is shared by many business acquaintances--that the early enthusiasm of "what we will do" has vanished, and that when the time for decisive action comes we shall be found still relying upon the traditional but fatal policy of "muddling through" which has for so long been typical of british business as well as official methods. we shall still, i fear, be found clinging to the antiquated and worn-out business principles and stiff conventionalities which, during the past few years, have enabled the german to oust us from markets which for centuries we have been in the habit of regarding as our own peculiar preserves. that, in view of the enormous importance of the commercial warfare of to-day, i believe to be a very real peril. king george's famous "wake up, england!" is a cry as necessary to-day as ever. i do not believe germany will ever be able to pay adequate indemnity for the appalling monetary losses she has brought upon us, and if those losses are to be regained it can only be by the capture of her overseas markets, and the diversion of her overseas profits into british pockets. shall we seize the opportunity or shall we "muddle through"? this is not a political book, for i am no politician, and, further, to-day we have no politics--at least of the radical and conservative type. "britain for the briton" should be our battle-cry. there is one subject, however, which, even though it may appear to touch upon politics, cannot be omitted from our consideration. if the war has taught us many lessons, perhaps the greatest is its splendid demonstration of the essential solidarity of the british empire. we all know that the german writers have preached the doctrine that the british empire was as ramshackle a concern as that of austria-hungary; that it must fall to pieces at the first shock of war. to-day the british empire stands before the world linked together, literally, by a bond of steel. from canada, from australia, from india, even--despite a jarring note struck by german money--from south africa, "the well-forged link rings true." germany to-day is very literally face to face with the british empire in arms, with resources in men and money to which her own swaggering empire are relatively puny, and with, i hope and believe, a stern determination no less strong and enduring than her own. the lesson assuredly will not be lost upon her: shall we make sure that it is not lost upon us? for some years past there has been a steadily growing opinion--stronger in the overseas dominions, perhaps, than here at home--that the british empire should, in business affairs, be much more of a "family concern" than it is. either at home, or overseas, our empire produces practically everything which the complexity of our modern social and industrial system demands. commerce is the very life-blood of our modern world: is it not time we took up in earnest the question of doing our international business upon terms which should place our own people, for the first time, in a position of definite advantage over the stranger? is it not time we undertook the task of welding the empire into a single system linked as closely by business ties as by the ties of flesh and blood and sentiment? that, i believe, will be one of the great questions which this war will leave us for solution. in the past, germany's chief weapon against us has been her commercial enterprise and activity. it should now be part of our business to prevent her harming us in the future, and, in the commercial field, the strongest weapon in our armoury has hitherto remained unsheathed. shall we, in the days that are to come, do our imperial trading on a great family scale--british goods the most favoured in british markets--or shall we here again "muddle through" on a policy which gives the stranger and the enemy alien at least as friendly a welcome as we extend to our own sons? perhaps, in the days that are coming, that in itself will be a question upon which the future of the british empire will depend. chapter ii the peril of exploiting the poor no phenomenon of the present serious situation is more remarkable, or of more urgent and vital concern to the nation, than the amazing rise in food prices which we have witnessed during the past six months. at a time when the british navy dominates the trade routes, when the german mercantile flag has been swept from every ocean highway in the world, when the german "high seas" fleet lies in shelter of the guns of the kiel canal fortifications, we have seen food prices steadily mounting, until to-day the purchasing power of the sovereign has declined to somewhere in the neighbourhood of fifteen shillings, as compared with the period immediately preceding the outbreak of hostilities. now this is a fact of the very gravest significance, and unless the price of food falls it will inevitably be the precursor of very serious events. matters are moving so rapidly, at the time i write, that before these lines appear in print they may well be confirmed by the logic of events. ominous mutterings are already heard, the spectre of labour troubles has raised its ugly head, and, unless some _modus vivendi_ be found, it seems more than probable that we shall witness a very serious extension of the strikes which have already begun. the most important of our domestic commodities are wheat, flour, meat, sugar, and coal. inquiries made by a committee of the cabinet have shown that, as compared with the average prices ruling in the three years before the war, the price of wheat and flour has risen by something like per cent.! sugar has increased per cent., coal about per cent., imported meat about per cent., and british meat per cent. the rise in prices is falling upon the very poor with a cruelty which can only be viewed with horror. imagine, for a moment, the plight of the working-class family with an income of thirty shillings a week, and perhaps five or six mouths to feed. even in normal times their lot is not to be envied: food shortage is almost inevitable. suddenly they find that for a sovereign they can purchase only fifteen shillings' worth of food. hunger steps in at once: the pinch of famine is felt acutely, and, thanks to the appalling price to which coal has been forced, it is aggravated by intense suffering from the cold, which ill-nurtured bodies are in no condition to resist. i am not contending that there is any very abnormal amount of distress throughout the country, taking the working-classes as a whole. thanks to the withdrawal of the huge numbers of men now serving in the army, the labour market, for once in a way, finds itself rather under than over-stocked, and the ratio of unemployment is undoubtedly lower than it has been for some considerable time. the better-paid artisans, whose wages are decidedly above the average at the present moment, are not suffering severely, even with the high prices now ruling. but they are exasperated, and some of them are making all kinds of unpatriotic threats, to which i shall allude presently. the real sufferers, and there are too many of them, are the families of the labouring classes of the lower grades, whose weekly wage is small and whose families, as a rule, are correspondingly numerous. at the best of times these people seldom achieve more than a bare existence: at the present moment they are suffering terribly. yet all the consolation they get from the government is the assurance that they ought to be glad they did not live in the days of the crimean war, and the pious hope that "within a few weeks"--oh! beautifully elastic term!--prices will come down--if we, by forcing the dardanelles, liberate the grain accumulated in the black sea ports. no doubt the best possible arrangements have been made towards that issue, and we all hope for a victorious end, but our immediate business is to investigate the distress among the very poor, and to check the ominous threats of labour troubles which have been freely bandied about and have even been translated into action--or inaction--which has had the effect of delaying some of the country's preparations for carrying on the war. the average retail prices paid by the working-classes for food in eighty of the principal towns on march th and a year ago are compared in the following table issued by the president of the board of trade: last year now _s._ _d._ _s._ _d._ bread, per lbs. - / - / butter, per lb. - / - / jam, per lb. - / cheese, per lb. - / - / bacon (streaky), per lb. beef, english, per lb. - / beef, chilled or frozen, per lb. - / - / mutton, english, per lb. - / - / mutton, frozen, per lb. - / - / tea, per lb. - / sugar, granulated, per lb. - / a few more facts. though the matter was constantly referred to, yet we had been at war for five months before the government could be prevailed upon to prohibit the exportation of cocoa; with what result? in december, january, and february last our exports of cocoa to neutral countries were , , lbs., whilst for the corresponding period for the exports were but , , lbs.! before the war, holland was an _exporter_ of cocoa to this country; since the war she has been the principal _importer_; and there is a mass of indisputable evidence to show that nearly the whole of our exports of cocoa have found their way to germany through this channel. the prohibition is now removed, so we may expect that the old game of supplying the german army with cocoa from england will begin again! the german army must also have tea. let us see how we have supplied it. during the first fortnight of war, export was restricted and only , lbs. were sent out of the country, whereas for the corresponding period of the previous year , lbs. were exported. during the next three months the restrictions were removed, when no less a quantity than , , lbs. was sent away--the greater part of it by roundabout channels to germany--against , , lbs. for the corresponding period in . after three months a modified restriction was placed upon the export of tea, but after reckoning the whole sum it is found that _during the time we have been at war we have sent abroad over , , lbs. of tea_, while in the corresponding period of the previous year we sent only a little over , , lbs.! now where has it gone? in august and september last, germany received from holland , , lbs. whereas in that period of she only received , , lbs. tea is given as a stimulant to german troops in the field, so we see how the british government have been tricked into _actually feeding the enemy_! and again, let us see how the poor are being exploited by the policy of those in high authority. at the outbreak of war the market price of tea was - / _d._ per lb. as soon as exportation was allowed, the price was raised to the buyer at home to _d._ then when exports were restricted, it fell to - / _d._ but as soon as the restrictions on exports were removed altogether, the price rose until, to-day, the very commonest leaf-tea fetches _d._ a lb.--a price never equalled, save in the memories of octogenarians. who is to blame for this fattening of our enemies at the expense of the poor? let the reader put this question seriously to himself. generally speaking, of course, prices of all articles are regulated by the ordinary laws of supply and demand; if the supply falls or the demand increases, prices go up. but there is another factor which sometimes comes into play which is very much in evidence at the present moment--the existence of "rings" of unscrupulous financiers who, with ample resources in cash and organisation, see in every national crisis a heaven-sent opportunity of increasing their gains at the expense of the suffering millions of the poor. it is quite evident, to my mind, that something of the kind is going on to-day, as it has gone on in every great war in history. the magnates of mark lane and the bulls of the chicago wheat pit care nothing for the miseries of the unknown and unheeded millions whose daily bread may be shortened by their financial jugglings. they are out to make money. it may be true, as mr. asquith said, that we cannot control the price of wheat in america. but, at least, it cannot be said that the price of bread to-day is due to shortage of supply. during the last six months of , as compared with the last six months of , there was actually a rise of , tons in the quantities of wheat, flour, and other grain equivalent imported into this country. where, then, can be the shortage, and what explanation is there of the prevailing high prices except the fact that large quantities of food are being deliberately held off the market in order that _the price may be artificially enhanced_? this is not the work of the small men, but of the big firms who can buy largely enough, probably in combination, to control and dominate the market. when the subject was recently debated in the house of commons the voice of the labour member was heard unmistakably. mr. toothill said bluntly that if it was impossible for the government to prevent the prices of food being "forced up" unduly, then it remained for labour members to request employers to meet the situation by an adequate advance in wages. that request has since been made in unmistakable terms. mr. clynes was even more emphatic. "though the labour party were as anxious as any to keep trade going in the country," he said, "it was clear to them that the truce in industry could not be continued unless some effective relief were given in regard to the prices under discussion." in other words, the labour "organisers" will call for strikes--perhaps hold up a large part of our war preparations--unless the employers, most of whom are making no increased profit out of the price of food, are prepared to shoulder the entire burden. it is quite clear, to my mind, that the prices of food are being forced up by gigantic unpatriotic combines, either in this country or abroad, or both. i do not think that mere shortage of supply is sufficient to account for the extraordinary advances that have taken place. whether the government can take steps to defeat the wheat rings, as they did to prevent the cornering of sugar, is a question with which i am not concerned here. my purpose is merely to point out that the constant rise in food prices, brought about by gangs of unscrupulous speculators, is bringing about a condition of affairs fraught with grave peril to our beloved country. if we turn to coal we find the scandal ten times greater than in the case of flour and meat. it is at least possible that agencies outside our own country may be playing a great part in forcing up the prices of food; they can have no effect upon the price of coal, which we produce ourselves and of which we do not import an ounce. coal to-day is simply at famine prices. it is impossible to buy the best house coal for less than _s._ per ton, while the cheapest is being sold at _s._ per ton, and the very poor, who buy from the street-trolleys only inferior coal and in small quantities, are being fleeced to the extent of _s._ _d._ or _s._ per cwt. this is an exceedingly serious matter, and it is not to be explained, even under present conditions, by the ordinary laws of supply and demand. why should coal in a village on the banks of the thames be actually cheaper than the corresponding quality of coal when sold in london? there can be only one answer--the london supply is in the hands of the coal "ring" which has compelled all the london coal merchants to come into line. so extensive and powerful is the organisation of this ring, that the small men, unless they followed the lead of the big dealers, would be immediately faced with ruin: they would not only find it difficult to obtain coal at all, but would promptly be undersold--as the standard oil company undersold thousands of small competitors--until they were compelled to put up their shutters. the big coal men, the men who make the profit--and with their ill-gotten gains will purchase birthday honours later on--of course blame the war for everything. the railways, they say, cannot handle the coal; so much labour has been withdrawn for the army that production has fallen below the demand. but i am assured, on good authority, that coal bought before the war, and delivered to london depots at _s._ or _s._ per ton, is being retailed to-day at between _s._ and _s._ per ton. the big dealers know that, cost what it may, the public must have coal, and they are taking advantage of every plausible excuse the war offers them to wring from the public the very highest prices possible. "the right to exploit," in fact, is being pushed to its logical extreme in the face of the country's distress, and the worst sufferers, as usual, are the very poor, who for their pitiful half-hundred-weights of inferior rubbish pay at a rate which would be ample for the finest coal that could grace the grate of a west-end drawing-room. can we shut our eyes to the fact that in this shameful exploiting of the very poor by the unpatriotic lie all the elements of a very serious danger? let us not forget the noble services the working-classes of britain are rendering to our beloved country. they have given the best and dearest of their manhood in the cause of the empire, and it is indeed a pitiful confession of weakness, and an ironic commentary on the grandiose schemes of "social reform" with which they have been tempted of late years, if the government cannot or will not protect them from the human leeches--the birthday knights in the making--who suck their ill-gotten gains from those least able to protect themselves. the government have promised an inquiry which may, if unusual expedition is shown, make a "demonstration" with the coal-dealers just about the time the warm weather arrives. prices will then tumble, the government will solemnly pat itself upon the back for its successful interference, and the coal merchants, having made small or large fortunes as the case may be during the winter, will make a great virtue of reducing their demands to oblige the government. in the meantime, the poor are being fleeced in the interests of an unscrupulous combine. is there no peril here to our beloved country? are we not justified in saying that the machinations of these gangs of unscrupulous capitalists are rapidly tending to produce a condition of affairs which may, at any moment, expose us to a social upheaval which would contain all the germs of an unparalleled disaster? let the condition of affairs in certain sections of the labour world speak in answer. i have already quoted the thinly-veiled threat of mr. clynes. others have gone beyond threats and have begun a war against their country on their own account. there is an unmistakable tendency, fostered as usual by agitators of the basest class, towards action which is, in effect, helping the germans against our brave soldiers and sailors who are enduring hardships of war such as have not been equalled since the days of the crimea. how we supply the german army with food exports of cocoa to neutral countries (for the german market) dec. , , to mar. , | dec. , , to mar. , , , lbs. | , , lbs. exports of tea to neutral countries (for the german market) dec. , , to mar. , | dec. , , to mar. , , , lbs. | , , lbs. as i wrote these lines, strikes on a large scale had begun on the clyde and on the tyne, two of our most important shipbuilding centres, where great contracts--essential to the success of our arms--are being carried on, and in the london docks, where most of the food of london's teeming millions is handled. london dockers, to the number of some , , are agitating for a rise in wages; between , and , of them have struck work at the victoria and albert dock on the question, forsooth, whether they shall be engaged inside the docks, or outside. in other words, the expeditious handling of london's sorely needed food is being jeopardised by a ridiculous squabble which one would think half a dozen capable business men could settle in five minutes. but here, as usual, the poorest are the victims of their own class. in spite of the well-meaning but idiotic young women who have gone about distributing white feathers to men who, in their opinion, ought to have joined the army, common-sense people will recognise that the skilled workers in many trades are just as truly fighting the battles of their country as if they were serving with the troops in belgium or france. if every able-bodied man joined the army to-day the nation would collapse for want of supplies to feed the fighting lines. it is not my purpose here to discuss whether the men or the masters are right in the disputes in the engineering trades. probably the authorities have not done enough to bring home to the men the knowledge that, in executing government work, they are in fact helping to fight the country's battles. none the less the men who strike at the present moment delay work which is absolutely essential to the safety of our country. we know from lord kitchener's own lips that they have done so. our war organisation to-day may be divided into three parts--the navy fighting on the sea, the army fighting on land, and the industrial army providing supplies for the other two. it must be brought home to the last named, by every device in our power, that their duties are just as important to our success as the work of their brothers on the storm-swept north sea, or in the mud and slush and peril of the trenches in flanders. this war is very largely a war of supplies, and our fighting must be done not only in the far-flung battle lines, but in the factory and workshop, whose outputs are essential to the far deadlier work which we ask of the men who are heroically facing the shells and bullets of the common enemy. now there is no disguising the fact that the industrial army at home contains far too large a percentage of "slackers." that is the universal testimony of men who know. there are thousands of workmen who will not keep full time, for the simple reason that they are making more money than they really need and are so lazy and unpatriotic that they will not make the extra effort which the necessities of the situation so urgently demand. what we need to-day is, above all things, determined hard work: we do not want to see our fighting forces starved for want of material caused by the shirking of the "slackers" or by unpatriotic disputes and squabbles. to-day we are fighting for our lives. the privates of the industrial army ought to realise that "slacking" or striking is just as much a criminal offence as desertion in the face of the enemy would be in the case of a soldier. it is true, as a recent writer has said, that "those who fight industrially, working long hours in a spirit of high patriotism, may not seem very heroic," but it is none the less the fact that they are fighting: they are doing the work that is essential to our national safety and welfare. do they--at least do some of them--realise this? the following extract from _engineering_, the well-known technical journal, shows very clearly that among certain classes of highly paid workers there is a total disregard of our national necessity which is positively appalling. as the result of a series of inquiries _engineering_ says: "every reply received indicates that there is slackness in many trades. be it remembered that high wages can be earned; for relatively unskilled although somewhat arduous work, _s._ a day can be earned. "time-and-a-quarter to time-and-a-half is paid for saturday afternoon work, and double time for sunday work. men could earn from £ to £ per week--and pay no income-tax. "men will work on saturday and sunday, when they get handsomely paid, but will absent themselves on other days or parts of days. "the head of a firm, who has shown a splendid example in his work, and is most kindly disposed to all workers, states in his reply to us: 'our trouble is principally with the ironworkers, especially riveters, who appear to have a definite standard of living, and who regulate their wages accordingly; they seem to aim at making £ per week: if they can make this in four days, good and well; but if they can make it in three days, better still.... the average working-man of to-day does not wish to earn more money, and put by something for a 'rainy day,' but is quite content to live from hand to mouth, so long as he has as easy a time as possible." what words are strong enough to condemn the action of such men who, safe in their homes from the perils of the serving soldier, and infinitely better paid than the man who daily risks his life in the trenches, are ready deliberately to jeopardise the safety of our empire by taking advantage of the gravest crisis in our history to levy what is nothing less than industrial blackmail? it cannot be pretended that these men are under-paid: they can earn far more than many members of the professional classes. just as truly as the coal and wheat "rings" are exploiting the miseries of the very poor, so these aristocrats of the labour world are playing with the lives of their fellows and the destinies of our empire. they are helping the enemy just as surely as the german who is fighting in his country's ranks. they are, in short, taking advantage of a national danger to demand rates of pay which, in times of safety and peace, they could not possibly secure. for years past we have been striving to arrive at some means of settling these unhappy labour disputes which have probably done more harm to british trade than all the german competition of which we have heard so much. in every district machinery has been set up for conciliation and settlement where a settlement is sincerely desired by both parties to a dispute. and if this machinery is not set in motion at the present moment, it is because one party or the other is so blind and self-willed that it would rather jeopardise the empire than abate a jot of its demands. could anything be more heart-breaking to the men who are fighting and dying in the trenches? whatever may be the merits of any dispute, there must be no stoppage of war office or admiralty work at the present moment, and if any body of men refuse at this juncture to submit their dispute to the properly organised conciliation boards, and to abide by the result, they are traitors in the fullest sense of the world. how serious the crisis is, and how grave a peril it constitutes to our country, may be judged from the fact that the government found it necessary to appoint a special committee to inquire into the production in engineering and shipbuilding establishments engaged in government work. the committee's view of the case, which i venture to think will be endorsed by every thinking man, may be judged by the following extract from their report: "we are strongly of opinion that, during the present crisis, employers and workmen should under no circumstances allow their differences to result in a stoppage of work. "whatever may be the rights of the parties at normal times, and whatever may be the methods considered necessary for the maintenance and enforcement of these rights, we think there can be no justification whatever for a resort to strikes or lockouts under present conditions, when the resulting cessation of work would prevent the production of ships, guns, equipment, stores, or other commodities required by the government for the purposes of the war." the committee went on to recommend that in cases where the parties could not agree, the dispute should be referred to an impartial tribunal, and the government accordingly appointed a special committee to deal with any matters that might be brought before it. i do not think it is possible to exaggerate the seriousness of the danger with which we must be threatened if these unhappy disputes are not brought to a close, and i know of no incident since the war began that has shown us up in so unfavourable a light as compared with our enemy. whatever we may think of germany's infamous methods; whatever views we may hold of her monstrous mistakes; whatever our opinion may be as to the final outcome of the war, we must, at least, grant to the germans the virtue of patriotism. the german socialists are, it is notorious, as strongly opposed to war as any people on earth. but they have, since the great struggle began, shown themselves willing to sink their personal views when the safety of the fatherland is threatened in what, to them, is a war of aggression, deliberately undertaken by their enemies. we have heard, since the war began, a great deal of wild and foolish talk about economic distress in germany. we have been told, simply because the german government has wisely taken timely precautions to prevent a possible shortage of food, that the german nation is on the verge of starvation. but would germany, who for seven years prepared for war, overlook the vital question of her food supply? probably it is true that the industrial depression in germany, thanks to the destruction by our navy of her overseas trade, is very much worse than it is in england. but no one has yet suggested that the krupp workmen are threatening to come out on strike and paralyse the defensive forces if their demands for higher wages are not instantly conceded. it is more than probable that any one who suggested such a course, even if he escaped the heavy hand of the government, would be speedily suppressed in very rough-and-ready fashion by his own comrades. the germans, at least, will tolerate no treachery in their midst, and unless the leaders among the english trade unionists can bring their men to a realisation of the wickedness involved in strikes at the present moment, they will assuredly forfeit every vestige of public respect and confidence. i am not holding a brief either for the masters or the men. let ample inquiry be made, by all means, into the subject of the dispute. if the masters raise any objection to either the sitting or the finding of the government commission, they deserve all the blame that naturally attaches to the strikers. the inquiry should be loyally accepted by both sides, and its findings as loyally respected. _prima facie_, men who can earn the wages mentioned in the extract from _engineering_ which i have already quoted are well off--far better off than their comrades who are doing trench duty in france, and are free from the hourly risk to which the fighting forces are exposed. there may be, however, good and valid reasons why they should be paid even better. if there are, the government inquiry should find them out. but to stop work now, to hold up the production of the ships, guns, and materials necessary to carry on the war, is criminal, wicked, and unpatriotic in the highest degree. it is setting an evil example only too likely to be followed, and, if it is persisted in, may well be the first step of our beloved nation on the downward road which leads to utter destruction. mr. archibald hurd, a writer always well informed, has summed up the situation in the _daily telegraph_ in the following words, which are worth quotation: "the recruiting movement has shown that the great industrial classes are not, as a whole, unconscious of the stake for which we are fighting--the institutions which we cherish and our freedom. probably if the workers at home were reminded of the importance of their labours, they would speedily fall into line--if not, well, the resources of civilisation are not exhausted, and the government should be able to ensure that not an unnecessary day, or even hour, shall be lost in pressing forward the work of equipping the new fleet and the new army which is essential to our salvation. the government is exercising authority under martial law over army and navy; cannot it get efficient control over the industrial army? "in france and germany these powers exist, and are employed. we are not less committed to the great struggle than france and germany." those are wise and weighty words, and it may be that they point the way to a solution of what may become a very grave problem. chapter iii the peril of not doing enough the vast issues raised by the war make it a matter of most imperative necessity that great britain and her allies shall put forward, at the earliest possible moment, the greatest and supremest efforts of which they are capable, in order that the military power of the austro-german alliance should be definitely and completely crushed for ever. it must never be forgotten that the prize for which germany is fighting is the mastership of europe, the humbling of the power of great britain, and the imposition of a definitely teutonic "kultur" over the whole of western civilisation. that the free and liberty-loving british peoples should ever come under the heel of the prussian junker spirit involves such a monstrous suppression of national thought and feeling as to be almost unbelievable. yet, assuredly, that would be our fate and the fate of every nationality in europe should germany emerge victorious from this titanic struggle she has so rashly and presumptuously provoked. with our very existence as the ruling race at stake it is clear that our own dear country cannot afford to be sparing in her efforts. whatever the cost; whatever the slaughter; whatever the action of our allies may be in the future, when the terrific out-pouring of wealth will have bled europe white, we, at least, cannot afford to falter. for our own land, the struggle is really, and in very truth, a struggle of life and death. if we endure and win, civilisation, as we understand it to-day, will be safe; if we lose, then western civilisation and the british empire will go down together in the greatest cataclysm in human history. now are we doing everything in our power to avert the threatening peril? moreover--and this is of greatest importance--are our allies persuaded _that we are really making the great efforts the occasion demands_? this gives us to pause. let us admit we are not, and we have never pretended to be, a military nation in the sense that france, russia, and germany have been military nations. we have been seamen for a thousand years, and the frontiers of england are the salt waves which girdle our coasts. seeking no territory on the continent of europe, and unconcerned in european disputes unless they directly--as in the present instance--threaten our national existence, our armed forces have ever been regarded as purely defensive, yet not aggressive. for our defence we have relied on our naval power; perhaps in days gone by we have assumed, rather too rashly, that we should never be called upon to take part in land-fighting on a continental scale. even after the present war had broken out, it was possible for the parliamentary correspondent of a london liberal paper to write that certain liberal members of the house of commons were protesting against the sending of british troops to the continent on the ground that they were too few in number to exercise any influence in a european war! perish that thought for ever! i mention this amazing contention merely to show how imperfectly the issues raised by the present conflict were appreciated in the early days of the struggle. to-day we see the establishment of the british army raised by parliamentary sanction to , , men without a single protest being uttered against a figure which, had it been even hinted at, a year ago would have been received with yells of derision. yet, in spite of that vast number, i still ask "are we doing enough?" in other words, looking calmly at the stupendous gravity of the issues involved, is there any further effort we could possibly make to shorten the duration of the war? for eight months german agents, armed with german gold, have been industriously propagating, in france and in russia, the theory that those countries were, in fact, pulling the chestnuts out of the fire for england. german agents are everywhere. we were represented as holding the comfortable view that our fleet was doing all that we could reasonably be called upon to undertake; that, secure behind our sea barriers, we were simply carrying on a policy of "business as usual" with the minimum of effort and loss and the maximum of gain through our principal competitors in the world's commerce being temporarily disabled. the object of this manoeuvre was plain. germany hoped to sow the seeds of jealousy and discord, and to thrust a wedge into the solid alliance against her. now it is, to-day, beyond all question that, to some extent at least, this manoeuvre was successful. a certain proportion of people in both france and russia, perhaps, grew restive. in the best-informed circles it was, of course, fully recognised that britain, with her small standing army, could not, by any possibility, instantly fling huge forces into the field. the less well informed, influenced by the german propaganda, began to think we were too slow. this feeling began to gather strength, and it was not until m. millerand, the french minister for war, whom i have known for years, had actually visited england and seen the preparations that were in progress, that french opinion, fully informed by a series of capable articles in the french press, settled down to the conviction that england was really in earnest. unquestionably, m. millerand rendered a most valuable service to the cause of the allies by his outspoken declarations, and he was fully supported by the responsible leaders of french thought and opinion. the cleverly laid german plot failed, and our allies to-day realise that we have unsheathed our sword in the deadliest earnest. in spite of this, however, the thoughtful section of the public have been asking themselves whether, in fact, our military action is not slower than it should have been. germany, we must remember, started this war with all the tremendous advantage secured by years of steady and patient preparation for a contest she was fully resolved to precipitate as soon as she judged the moment opportune. she lost the first trick in the game, thanks to the splendid heroism of belgium, the unexpected rapidity of the french and russian mobilisation, and lastly, the wholly surprising power with which britain intervened in the fray--the pebble in the cog-wheels of the german machinery. the end of the first stage, represented, roughly, by the driving of the germans from the marne to the aisne, temporarily exhausted all the combatants, and there followed a long period of comparative inaction, during which all the parties to the quarrel, like boxers in distress, sparred to gain their "second wind." now just as germany was better prepared when the first round opened, so she was, necessarily, more advanced in her preparations for the second stage. thanks to her scheme of training, there was a very real risk that her vast masses of new levies would be ready before our own--and this has actually proved to be the case. new troops are to-day being poured on to both the eastern and western fronts at a very rapid pace, probably more rapidly than our own. we know that it was, in great part, their new levies that inflicted the very severe reverse upon the russians in east prussia and undid, in a single fortnight, months of steady and patient work by our allies. it is also probably true that germany's immense superiority in fully trained fighting men is steadily decreasing, owing partly to the enormous losses she has sustained through her adherence to methods of attack which are hopeless in the teeth of modern weapons. but she is still very much ahead of what any one could have expected after seven months of strenuous war, and we must ask ourselves very seriously whether, by some tremendous national effort, it is not possible to expedite the raising of our forces to the very maximum of which the nation and the empire are capable. it is not a question of cost: the cost would be as nothing as compared with the havoc wrought by the prolongation of the war. if there is anything more that we can do, we ought, emphatically, to do it. it is our business to see that at no single point in the conduct of the war are we out-stripped by any effort the germans can make. now it is a tolerably open secret that we are not to-day getting the men we shall want before we can bring the war to a conclusion. why? when our men read of the utter disregard of the spy question, of the glaring untruths told by ministers in the house of commons, of how we are providing german barons with valets on prison ships--comfortable liners, by the way--of the letting loose of german prisoners from internment camps, and how german officers have actually been allowed, recently, to depart from tilbury to holland to fight against us, is it any wonder that they hesitate to come forward to do their share? let the reader ask himself. are all departments of the government patriotic? is it not a fact that the public are daily being misled and bamboozled? let the reader examine the evidence and then think. now, though no figures as to the progress of recruiting have been published for some months, it is practically certain that we are still very far from the three million men we still assuredly require as a minimum before victory, definite and unmistakable, crowns our effort. i have not the slightest doubt that before this struggle ends we shall see practically _the entire male population_ of the country called to the colours in some capacity, and unfortunately that is an aspect of the case which is certainly not yet recognised by the democracy as a whole. we have done much, it is true. we have surprised our friends and our enemies alike--perhaps we have even surprised ourselves--by what has been achieved, but on the technical side of the war, under the tremendous driving energy of lord kitchener, amazing progress has been made in the provision of equipment, and the latest information i have been able to obtain suggests that before long the early shortage of guns, rifles, uniforms, and other war material will have been entirely overcome, and that we shall be experiencing a shortage, not of supplies--but alas! of men. that day cannot be far off, and when it dawns the problem of raising men will assume an urgency of which hitherto we have had no experience. up to now we have been content to tolerate the somewhat leisurely drift of the young men to the colours for the simple reason that we had not the facilities for training and equipping them. we cannot, and we must not, tolerate any slackness in the future. the wastage of modern war is appallingly beyond the average conception, and when our big new armies take the field, that wastage will rise to stupendous figures. it must be made good without the slightest delay by constant drafts of new, fully trained men, and when that demand rises, as it inevitably will, to a pitch of which we have hitherto had no experience, it will have to be met. can it be met by the leisurely methods with which we have hitherto been content? i do not think so for a moment, and i am convinced that our responsible ministers should at once take the country fully into their confidence and tell us plainly and unmistakably what the man-in-the-street has to expect. i have so profound an admiration for the men who have voluntarily come forward in the hour of their country's need that i hope, with all my heart, their example will be followed--and followed quickly--to the full extent of our nation's needs. but i confess i am not sanguine. the recent strikes in the engineering trade on the clyde have gone far to convince me that, even now, a very large proportion of our industrial classes do not even to-day realise the real seriousness of the position, for it is incredible that britons who understood that we are actually engaged in a struggle for our very existence should seriously jeopardise and delay, through a miserable industrial squabble, the supply of war material upon which the safety of our empire might depend. the strike on the clyde was, to me, the most evil symptom of apathy and lack of all patriotic instincts which the war has brought forth; it was, to my mind, proof conclusive that a section at least of our working-classes are entirely dead to the great national impulse by which, in the past, the british people have been so profoundly swayed. is the government doing enough to rekindle those impulses? has it taken the people fully and frankly into its confidence? above all, has it made it sufficiently clear to the masses that we are not getting the men we need, and that unless those men come forward voluntarily, some method of compulsory selection will become inevitable? no, it has not! we come back to the question in which, i am firmly convinced, lies the solution of many of our present difficulties--are we being told the truth about the war? has the nation had the clear, ringing call to action that, unquestionably, it needs? no, it has not! i shall try to show, in the pages of this modest work, that the country has not been given the information to which it is plainly entitled respecting the actual military operations which have been accomplished. it is certainly not too much to say that the country has not been really definitely and clearly informed as to the measure of the effort it will be called upon to make in the future. i am not in the secrets of the war office, and it is impossible to say what the policy of the government will be, or what trump cards they hold, ready to play them when the real crisis comes. but there certainly is an urgent and growing need for very plain speaking. i speak plainly and without fear. we should like to be assured that the recruiting problem, upon the solution of which our final success must depend, is being dealt with on broad, wise, and statesmanlike lines, and that the government will shrink from no measure which shall ensure our absolute military efficiency. i have no doubt that lord kitchener has a very accurate estimate of the total number of men he proposes to put into the field before the great forward movement begins, of the probable total wastage, and of the period for which, on the present basis of recruiting, that wastage can be made good. the country would welcome some very definite and explicit statement, either from mr. asquith or lord kitchener, as to the real position, and as to whether the government has absolute confidence that the requirements of the military authorities can be met under the existing condition of affairs. the time is, indeed, more than ripe for some grave and solemn warning to the people if, as i believe, the effort we have made up to now, great though it has undoubtedly been, has not been sufficient. we to-day need an authoritative declaration on the subject. there is far too strong a tendency, fostered by the undue reticence of the irresponsible press bureau and the screeching "victories" of the newspapers, to believe that things are going as well and smoothly as we could wish; and though i would strenuously deprecate an attitude of blank pessimism, the perils which hedge around a fatuous optimism are very great. my firm conviction, and i think my readers will share in it, is that the great mass of public opinion is daily growing more and more apathetic towards the war, and truly that is not the mental attitude which will bring us with safety and credit through the tremendous ordeal which lies before us. the government is not doing enough to drive home the fact that greater and still greater efforts will be required before the spectre of prussian domination is finally laid to rest: the country at large, befogged by the newspapers, and sullenly angry at being kept in the dark to an extent hitherto unheard of, is in no mood to make the supreme sacrifices upon which final victory must depend. we are, as a result, not exercising our full strength: we are not doing enough, and our full strength will not be exerted until the government takes the public into its confidence and tells them exactly what it requires and what it intends to have. that it would gain, rather than lose, by doing so, i have not the slightest doubt, while the gain to the world through the throwing into the scale of the solid weight of a fully aroused britain would be simply incalculable. while writing this, came the extraordinarily belated news of the decision of the government to declare a strict blockade of the german coasts. it has been a matter of supreme bewilderment to every student of the war why this decision was not taken long before. why should we have failed for so long to use the very strongest weapon which our indisputed control of the sea has placed in our hands, is one of those things which "no fellah can understand." we have been foolish enough to allow food, cotton, and certain other articles of "conditional contraband" free access to germany, and it is beyond question that in so doing we have enormously prolonged the war. and all this, be it remembered, at a time when germany _was violating every law of god and man_! assume a reversal of the prevailing conditions: would germany have been so foolishly indulgent towards us? would she have treated us with more consideration than she showed towards the starving population of paris in ? the very fact of our long inaction in this respect adds enormously to the strong suspicion that in other directions we are not doing as much as we should. lord fisher is credited with the saying, "the essence of war is violence: moderation in war is imbecility. hit first, hit hard, hit everywhere." i think it is safe to say that in more than one direction we have displayed an imbecility of moderation which has tended to encourage the germans in the supreme folly of imagining that they are at liberty to play fast and loose with the opinion of the civilised world. our treatment of german spies and enemy aliens in our midst is a classic example of our contemptuous tolerance of easily removable perils, just as much as is our incredible folly in neglecting to make the fullest use of our magnificent naval resources. thanks to our tolerance, the germans have been freely importing food and cotton, with probably an enormous quantity of copper smuggled through in the same ships. we have paid in the blood and lives of our gallant soldiers, husbands, brothers, lovers, while the germans have laughed at us--and not without justice--as a nation of silly dolts and imbeciles. yet we have tardily decided upon "retaliatory measures" which we were perfectly entitled to take the instant war was declared, only under the pressure of germany's campaign of murder and piracy at sea! are we doing enough in other directions? equally belated, and equally calculated to give the impression that we have been too slow in using our strength, is the attack upon the dardanelles. it has long been a mystery why, in view of the tremendous results involved in such a blow at germany's deluded ally, this attack was not made earlier. we do not know, and the government do not enlighten us. but the delay has helped to send the price of bread to famine prices through blocking up the russian wheat in the black sea ports; it has given the turks and the germans time to enormously strengthen the defences, and has prevented us from sending to our russian friends that support in munitions of war of which they undoubtedly stood in need. there may, of course, have been good reasons for the delay, but if they exist, they have baffled the investigation of the most competent military and naval critics. it must never be forgotten that the reopening of the dardanelles and the fall of constantinople must exercise a far more potent influence on the progress of the war than, say, the relief of antwerp--another example of singularly belated effort! it must, in fact, transform the whole position of the war and react with fatal effect through turkey upon her allies. yet the war had been in progress for seven months before a serious attempt was made at what, directly turkey joined in the war, must have been one of the primary objects of the allies. what added price, i wonder, shall we be compelled to pay for that inexplicable delay, not merely in the increased cost of the necessaries of life at home and the expenses of the war abroad, but in the lives of our fighting men? for it must not be forgotten that a decisive blow at turkey would do much to shorten the duration of the war. it would be a serious blow at germany, and would be more than likely to precipitate the entrance into the struggle, on the side of the allies, of italy and the wavering balkan states. in hard cash, the war is costing us nearly a million and a half a day. we have to pay it, sooner or later. the loss of life is more serious than the loss of wealth, and there is no doubt that both must be curtailed by any successful operation against the turks. the army has, beyond question, lost thousands of recruits of the very best class owing to the parsimony displayed in the matter of making provision for the dependents of men who join the fighting forces. the scale originally proposed, it will be remembered, produced an outburst of indignation, and it was very soon amended in the right direction, but when all is said and done it operates with amazing injustice. one of the most striking features of the war has been the splendid patriotism shown by men who, in social rank, are decidedly above the average standard of recruits. many comparatively rich men have joined the army as privates, and the roll descends in the social scale until we come down to the day labourer. we draw no distinction between the loyalty and devotion of any of our new soldiers, but it cannot be denied that the working of the system of separate allowances is exceedingly unfair to the men of the middle classes. financially, the family of the working-man is frequently better off through the absence of the husband and father at the front than it has ever been before--sometimes very much better off indeed. i am not complaining of that. but when we ascend a little in the scale we find a glaring inequality. the man earning, say, £ a year, and having a wife and one child, finds, too often, that the price he has to pay for patriotism is to leave his family dependent upon the government allowance of _s._ _d._ per week. is it a matter for wonder that so many have hesitated to join? can we praise too highly the patriotism of those who, even under such circumstances, have answered the call of duty? the truth is that the whole system of separation allowances, framed to meet the necessity of recruits of the ordinary standard, is inelastic and unsuitable to a campaign which calls, or should call, the entire nation to arms. it is throwing a great strain on a man's loyalty to ask him to condemn his wife and family to what, in their circumstances, amounts to semi-starvation, in order that he may serve his country, particularly when he sees around him thousands of the young and healthy at theatres and picture palaces, free from any domestic ties, who persistently shut their eyes to their country's need, and whom nothing short of some measure of compulsion would bring into the ranks. i am not going to suggest that every man who joins the army should be paid the salary he could earn in civil life, but i think we are _not doing nearly enough_ for thousands of well-bred and gently nurtured women who have given up husbands and brothers in the sacred cause of freedom. and now i come to perhaps the saddest feature of the war--the case of the men who will return to england maimed and disabled in their country's cause. that, for them, is supreme glory, though many of them would have infinitely preferred giving their lives for their country. they will come back to us in thousands, the maimed, the halt, and the blind: pitiful wrecks of glorious manhood, with no hope before them but to drag out the rest of their years in comparative or absolute helplessness. their health and their strength will have gone; there will be no places for them in the world where men in full health and strength fight the battle of life in the fields of commerce and industry. _are we doing enough_--have we, indeed, begun to do anything--for these poor victims of war's fury, much more to be pitied than the gallant men who sleep for ever where they fell on the battle-fields of france and belgium? too often in the past it has been the shame and the reproach of britain that she cast aside, like worn-out garments, the men who have spent their health and strength in her cause. have we not heard of crimean veterans dying in our workhouses? with all my heart i hope that, after the war, we shall never again be open to that reproach and shame. we must see that never again shall a great and wealthy empire disgrace itself by condemning its crippled heroes to the undying bitterness of the workhouse during life, and the ignominy of a pauper's grave after death. cost what it may, the future of the unhappy men "broke in our wars" must be the nation's peculiar care. i do not suggest--they themselves would not desire it--that all our wounded should become state pensioners _en masse_ and live out their lives in idleness. the men who helped to fling back the kaiser's barbaric hordes in the terrible struggle at ypres are not the men who will seek for mere charity, even when it takes the form of a deserved reward for their heroic deeds. speaking broadly, the state will have the responsibility of caring for two classes of wounded men--those who are condemned to utter and lifelong disablement and those who, less seriously crippled, are yet unable to obtain employment in ordinary commercial or industrial life. as to the former class, the duty of the state is clear: they must be suitably maintained for the rest of their lives at the state's charges. with regard to the second class, i do most sincerely hope that they will not be thrown into the world with a small wounds pension and left to sink or swim as fortune and their scattered abilities may dictate. it is for us to remember that these men have given their health and strength that we might live in safety and peace, and we shall be covering ourselves with infamy if we fail to make proper provision for them. as i have already said, they do not want charity. they want work, and i venture to here make an earnest appeal to the public to take up the cause of these men with all its generous heart. first and foremost, such of them as are capable should be given absolute preference in government and municipal offices, where there are thousands of posts that can be filled even by men who are partially disabled. every employer of labour should make it his special duty to find positions for as many of these men as possible: there are many places in business houses that can be quite adequately filled by men of less than ordinary physical efficiency. most of all, however, i hope the government will, without delay, take up the great task of finding a way of setting these men to useful work of some kind. in the past much has been done in this direction by the various private agencies which interest themselves in the care of discharged soldiers. a war of such magnitude as the present, however, must bring in its wake a demand for work and organisation on a scale far beyond private effort; and if the disabled soldier is to be adequately cared for, only the resources of the state can be equal to the need. _are we doing enough_, i ask again, for the gallant men who have served us so well? there are those who fear that, comparatively speaking, the war has only just begun. however this may be, the tale of casualties and disablement rises day by day at a terrible pace, and there is a growing need to set on foot an organisation which, when the time comes, shall be ready to grapple at once with what will perhaps be the most terrible legacy the war can leave us. chapter iv the peril of the censorship war brings into discussion many subjects upon which men differ widely in their opinions, and the present war is no exception to the general rule. amateur and expert alike argue on a thousand disputed points of tactics, of strategy, and of policy: it has always been so: probably it will be so for ever. but the censorship imposed by the government, on the outbreak of war, has achieved a record. it has earned the unanimous and unsparing condemnation of everybody. men who have agreed on no other point shake hands upon this. for sheer, blundering ineptitude, for blind inability to appreciate the mind and temper of our countrymen, in its utter ignorance of the psychological characteristics of the nation and of the empire, to say nothing of the rest of the world, the methods of the censorship, surely, approach very closely the limits of human capacity for failure. when i say "the censorship" i mean, of course, the system, speaking in the broadest sense. it matters nothing whether the chief censor, for the moment, be, by the circumstance of the day, mr. f.e. smith or sir stanley buckmaster. both, i make no doubt, have done their difficult work to the best of their ability, and have been loyally followed, to the best of their several abilities, by their colleagues. the faults and failures of the censorship have their roots elsewhere. now to avoid, at the outset, any possibility of misunderstanding, i want to make it absolutely clear that in all the numerous criticisms that have been levelled at the censorship, objection has been taken not to the _fact_ that news is censored, but to the _methods_ employed and to the extent to which the suppression of news has been carried. i believe that no single newspaper in the british isles has objected to the censorship, as such. i am quite sure that the public would very definitely condemn any demand that the censorship should be abolished. much as we all desire to learn the full story of the war, it is obvious that to permit the indiscriminate publication of any and every story sent over the wires, would be to make the enemy a present of much information of almost priceless value. early and accurate information is of supreme importance in war time, and certainly no englishman worthy of the name would desire that the slightest advantage should be offered to our country's enemies by the premature publication of news which, on every military consideration, ought to be kept secret. this is, unquestionably, the attitude of the great daily newspapers in london and the provinces, which have been the worst sufferers by the censor's eccentricities. they realise, quite clearly, the vital and imperative necessity for the suppression of information which would be of value to the enemy, and, as a matter of fact, the editors of the principal journals exercise themselves a private censorship which is quite rigid, and far more intelligently applied than the veto of the official bureau. it would surprise a good many people to learn of the vast amount of information which, by one channel or another, reaches the offices of the great dailies long before the press bureau gives a sign that it has even heard of the matters in question. the great retreat from mons is an excellent instance. it was known perfectly well, at the time, that the entire british expeditionary force was in a position of the gravest peril, and it is, perhaps, not too much to say that had the public possessed the same knowledge there would have been a degree of depression which would have made the "black week" of the south african war gay and cheerful by comparison, even if there had not been something very nearly approaching an actual panic. but the secret was well and loyally kept within the walls of the newspaper offices, as i, personally, think it should have been: i do not blame the military authorities in the least for holding back the fact that the position was one of extreme gravity. bad news comes soon enough in every war, and it would be senseless folly to create alarm by telling people of dangers which, as in this case, may in the end be averted. the public quarrel with the censorship rests on other, and totally different, grounds. that a strict censorship should be exercised over military news which might prove of value to the enemy will be cheerfully admitted by every one. we all know, despite official assurances to the contrary, that german spies are still active in our midst, and, even now, there is--or at any rate until quite recently there was--little or no difficulty in sending information from this country to germany. no one will cavil at any restrictions necessary to prevent the enemy anticipating our plans and movements, and if the censorship had not gone beyond this, no one would have had any reason to complain. what may perhaps be called the classic instance of the perils of premature publication occurred during the franco-prussian war of - . in those days there was no censorship, and france, in consequence, received a lesson so terrible that it is never likely to be forgotten. it is more than likely, indeed, that it is directly responsible for the merciless severity of the french censorship to-day. a french journal published the news that macmahon had changed the direction in which his army was marching. the news was telegraphed to england and published in the papers here. it at once came to the attention of one of the officials of the german embassy in london, who, realising its importance, promptly cabled it to germany. for moltke the news was simply priceless, and the altered dispositions he promptly made resulted in macmahon and his entire force capitulating at metz. truly a terrible price to pay for the single indiscretion of a french newspaper! it is not to be denied that to some extent certain of the "smarter" of the british newspapers are responsible for the severity of the censorship in force to-day. in effect, the censorship of news in this country dates from the last war in south africa. some of the english journals, in their desire to secure "picture-stories," forgot that the war correspondent has very great responsibilities quite apart from the mere purveying of news. the result was the birth of a war correspondent of an entirely new type. the older men--the friends of my youth, forbes, burleigh, howard russell, and the like--had seen and studied war in many phases: they knew war, and distinguished with a sure instinct the news that was permissible as well as interesting, from the news that was interesting but _not_ permissible. their work, because of their knowledge, showed discipline and restraint, and it can be said, broadly, that they wrote nothing which would advantage the enemy in the slightest degree. in the war in south africa we saw a tremendous change. many of the men sent out were simply able word-spinners, supremely innocent of military knowledge, knowing absolutely nothing of military operations, unable to judge whether a bit of news would be of value to the enemy or not. their business was to get "word-pictures"--and they got them. in doing so they sealed the doom of the war correspondent. the feeble and inefficient censorship established at cape town, for want of intelligent guidance, did little or nothing to protect the army, and the result was that valuable information, published in london, was promptly telegraphed to the boer leaders by way of lourenço marques. many skilfully planned british movements, in consequence, went hopelessly to pieces, and by the time war was over, lord roberts and military men generally were fully agreed that, when the next war came, it would be absolutely necessary to establish a censorship of a very drastic nature. we see that censorship in operation to-day, but far transcending its proper function. it was established--or it should have been established--for the sole purpose of preventing the publication of news likely to be of value to the enemy. had it stopped there, no one could have complained. i contend that in point of fact it has, throughout the war, operated not merely to prevent the enemy getting news which it was highly desirable should be kept from him, but to suppress news which the british public--the most patriotic and level-headed public in all the world--has every right to demand. we are not a nation of board-school children or hysterical girls. over and over again the british public has shown that it can bear bad news with fortitude, just as it can keep its head in victory. those of us who still remember the terrible "black week" in south africa, with its full story of the horror of defeat at colenso, magersfontein, and stormberg, remember how the only effect of the disaster was the ominous deepening of the grim british determination to "see it through": the tightening of the lips and the hardening of the jaws that meant unshakable resolve; the silent, dour, british grip on the real essentials of the situation that, once and for all, settled the fate of kruger's ambitions. are britons to-day so changed from the britons of that they cannot bear the truth; that they cannot face disaster; that they are indeed the degenerates they have been labelled by boastful germans? perish the thought! britain is not decadent; she is to-day as strong and virile as of old and her sons are proving it daily on the plains of flanders, as they proved it when they fought the kaiser's hordes to a standstill on the banks of the marne during the "black week" of last autumn. why then _should_ the public be treated as puling infants spoon-fed on tiny scraps of good news when it is happily available, and left in the bliss of ignorance when things are not going quite so well? from november th, , up to february th, --a period of three months of intense anxiety and strain--not one single word of news from the commander-in-chief of the greatest army britain has ever put into the field was vouchsafed to the british public. for that, of course, it is impossible to blame sir john french. but the bare fact is sufficient condemnation of the entirely unjustifiable methods of secrecy with which we are waging a war on which the whole future of our beloved nation and empire depends. the public was left to imagine that the war had reached something approaching a "deadlock." the ever-mounting tale of casualties showed that, in very truth, there had been, in that silent period of three months, fighting on a scale to which this country has been a stranger for a century. will any one outside the government contend that this absurd secrecy can be justified, either by military necessity or by a well-meant but, as i think, hopelessly mistaken regard for the feelings of the public? we are not germans that it should be necessary to lull us into a lethargic sleep with stories of imaginary victories, or to refrain from harrowing our souls when, as must happen in all wars, things occasionally go wrong. _we want the truth_, and we are entitled to have it! i do not say that we have been deliberately told that which is not true. i believe the authorities can be acquitted of any deliberate falsification of news. but i do say, without hesitation, that much news was kept back which the country was entitled to know, and which could have been made public without the slightest prejudice to our military position. at the same time, publication has been permitted of wholly baseless stories, such as that of the great fight at la bassée, to which i will allude later, which the authorities must have known to be unfounded. it is not for us to criticise the policy of our gallant allies, the french. we must leave it to them to decide how much or how little they will reveal to their own people. i contend, with all my heart, that the british public should not have been fobbed off with the studiously-guarded french official report, with its meaningless--so far as the general public is concerned--daily recital of the capture or loss of a trench here and there, or with the chatty disquisitions of our amiable "eye-witness" at the british headquarters, who manages to convey the minimum of real information in the maximum of words. it is highly interesting, i admit, to learn of that heroic soldier who brained four germans "on his own" with a shovel; it is very interesting to read of the "nut" making his happy and elaborate war-time toilet in the open air; and we are glad to hear all about german prisoners lamenting the lack of food. but these things, and countless others of which "eye-witness" has told us, are not the root of the matter. we want the true story of the campaign, and the plain fact is that we do not get it, and no one pretends that we get it. cheerful confidence is an excellent thing in war, as well as in all other human undertakings. blind optimism is a foolhardy absurdity; blank pessimism is about as dangerous a frame of mind as can be conceived. i am not quite sure, in my own mind, whether the methods of the censorship are best calculated to promote dangerous optimism, or the reverse, but i am perfectly certain that they are not calculated to evoke that calm courage and iron resolve, in the face of known perils, which is the best augury of victory in the long run. probably they produce a result varying according to the temperament of the individual. one day you meet a man in the club who assures you that everything is going well and that we have the germans "in our pocket." that is the foolishness of optimism, produced by the story of success and the suppression of disagreeable truths. twenty-four hours later you meet a gloomy individual who assures you we are no nearer beating the germans than we were three months ago. that is the depths of pessimism. both frames of mind are derived from the "official news" which the government thinks fit to issue. here and there, if you are lucky, you meet the man who realises that we are up against the biggest job the empire has ever tackled, and that, if we are to win through, the country must be plainly told the facts and plainly warned that it is necessary to make the most strenuous exertions of which we are capable. that is the man who forms his opinions not from the practically worthless official news, but from independent study of the whole gigantic problem. and that is the only frame of mind which will enable us to win this war. it is a frame of mind which the official news vouchsafed to us is not, in the least degree, calculated to produce. in the prosecution of a war of such magnitude as the present unhappy conflict the public feeling of a truly democratic country such as ours is of supreme importance. it is, in fact, the most valuable asset of the military authorities, and it is a condition precedent for success that the nation shall be frankly told the truth, so far as it can be told without damage to our military interests. mr. bonar law, in the house of commons, put the case in a nutshell when he said that-- "he had felt, from the beginning of the war, that as much information was not being given as might be given without damage to national interests. nothing could be worse for the country than to do what the japanese did--conceal disasters until the end of the war. he did not say that there had been any concealment, but the one thing necessary was to let the people of this and other countries feel that our official news was true, and could be relied upon. he wondered whether the house realised what a tremendous event the battle of ypres, in november, was. the british losses there, he thought, were bigger than any battle in which purely english troops were engaged. it was a terrible fight, against overwhelming odds, out of which british troops came with tremendous honour. all the account they had had was sir john french's despatch. surely the country could have more than that. whoever was in charge, when weighing the possible damage which might be brought about by the giving of news, should also bear in mind the great necessity for keeping people in this country as well informed as possible." that, i venture to think, is a perfectly fair and legitimate criticism. the battle of ypres was fought in november. mr. law was speaking in february. who can say what the country would have gained in recruiting, in strength of determination, in everything that goes to make up the _morale_ so necessary for the vigorous conduct of a great campaign, had it been given, at once, an adequate description of the "terrible fight against overwhelming odds" out of which the british thomas atkins came with so much honour? the military critics of our newspapers have, perhaps, been one of the greatest failures of the entire campaign. one of them, on the day before namur fell, assured us that the place could hold out for three months. another asserted that the russians would be in berlin by september th. another, just before the germans drove the russians for the second time out of east prussia, declared that russia's campaign was virtually ended! besides, all the so-called "histories" of the war published have been utter failures. personally, i do not think the nation is greatly perturbed, at the present moment, about the conduct of the actual military operations. no one is a politician to-day, and there is every desire, happily, to support the government in any measure necessary to bring the war to a conclusion. we have not the materials, even if it were desirable, to criticise the conduct or write the history of the war, and we have no wish to do so. but we desire to learn, and we have the _right_ to learn, the facts. it has always been an unhappy characteristic of the military mind that it has been quite unable, perhaps unwilling, to appreciate the mentality of the mere civilian who only has to pay the bill, and look as pleasant as possible under the ordeal. and i suspect, very strongly, that it is just this feeling which lies at the root of a good deal of what we have had to endure under the censorship. in its essence, the censorship is a military precaution, perfectly proper and praiseworthy, but only if applied according to the real needs of the situation. quite properly the military mind is impatient of the intrusion of the civilian in purely military affairs, and i have no doubt whatever that that fact explains the gratifying presence--in defiance of our long usage and to the annoyance of a certain type of politician--of lord kitchener at the war office to-day. but military domination of the war situation, however admirable from the military point of view, has failed to take into sufficient account the purely civilian interest in the progress of the war and the extent to which the military arm must rely upon the civilian in carrying the war to a successful conclusion. our military organisation, rightly or wrongly, is based upon the voluntary system. we cannot, under present conditions, obtain, as the conscriptionist countries do, the recruits we require merely by calling to the colours, with a stroke of the pen, men who are liable for service. we have to request, to persuade, to advertise, and to lead men to see their duty and to do it. to enable us to do this satisfactorily, public opinion must be kept well informed, must be stimulated by a knowledge of the real situation. when war broke out, and volunteers were called for, a tremendous wave of enthusiasm swept over the country. the recruiting organisation broke down, and, as i have pointed out, the government found themselves with more men on their hands than they could possibly train or equip at the moment. instead of taking men's names, telling them the exact facts, and sending them home to wait till they could be called for, the war office _raised the physical standard for recruits_, and this dealt a blow at popular enthusiasm from which it has never recovered. recruiting dropped to an alarming degree, and, so recently as february, mr. tennant, in the house of commons, despite the efforts that had been made in the meantime, was forced to drop a pretty strong hint that "a little more energy" was advisable. now the connection between the manner in which the recruiting question was handled, and the general methods adopted by the censorship, is a good deal closer than might be imagined at first sight. both show the same utter failure on the part of the military authorities to appreciate the psychology of the civilian. psychology, the science of the public opinion of the nation, must, in any democratic country, play a very large part in the successful conduct of a great war; and in sympathetic understanding of the temper of the masses, our military authorities, alike in regard to the censorship and recruiting question, have been entirely outclassed by the autocratic officials of germany. i do not advocate german methods. the gospel of hate and lies--which has kept german people at fever-heat--would fail entirely here. we need no "hymns of hate" or lying bulletins to induce britons to do their duty if the needs of the situation are thoroughly brought home to them. but we have to face this disquieting fact, that, whatever the methods employed, the german people to-day are far more enthusiastic and determined in their prosecution of the war than we are. that is a plain and unmistakable truth. i do not believe the great mass of the british public realises, even to-day, vitally and urgently, the immense gravity of the situation, and for that i blame the narrow and pedantic views that have kept the country in comparative ignorance of the real facts of the situation. we have been at war for eight months and we have not yet got the men we require. recruits have come forward in large numbers, it is true, and are still coming forward. but there is a very distinct lack of that splendid and enduring enthusiasm which a true realisation of the facts would inevitably evoke. priceless opportunities for stimulating that enthusiasm have been, all along, lost by the persistent refusal to allow the full story of british heroism and devotion to be told. we can take the battle of ypres as a single outstanding example. the full story of that great fight would have done more for recruiting in a week than all the displayed advertisements and elaborate placards with which our walls are so profusely adorned could achieve in a month! sir john french's despatch, as a military record, bears the hall-mark of military genius, but it is idle to pretend that it is a literary document calculated to stir the blood and fire the imagination of our countrymen. admirable in its firm restraint from the military point of view, it takes no account of the civilian imagination. that is not sir john french's business. he is a great soldier, and it is no reproach to him that his despatch is not exactly what is required by the urgency of the situation. moreover, it came too late to exercise its full effect. had the story of ypres been given to the public promptly, and in the form in which it would have been cast by a graphic writer who understood the subject with which he was dealing and the public for whom he was writing, we should probably have been better off to-day by thousands and thousands of the much-needed recruits. the failure to take advantage of such a glorious opportunity for the stimulation of enthusiasm by purely legitimate means, convicts our censorship authorities of a total failure to appreciate the mentality of the public whose supposed interests they serve. and as with successes, so with failures. it is the peculiar characteristic of the british people that either a great victory or a great disaster has the immediate result of nerving them to fuller efforts. we saw that in south africa: it has been seen a hundred times in our long history. let us turn for a moment to the affair at givenchy on december th. sir john french's despatch makes it clear that the repulse of the indian division on that occasion was a very serious matter, so serious, in fact, that it required the full effort of the entire first division, under sir douglas haig, to restore the position. yet, at the time, the british public was very far from fully informed of what had happened: much of our information, indeed, was derived from german sources; and these sources being naturally suspect, the magnitude of the operations was never realised. there may have been excellent military reasons for concealing, for the moment, the real position, though i strongly suspect that the germans were quite as well informed about it as we were. but there could be no possible reason for concealing the fact from the public for a couple of months, and thus losing another opportunity of powerfully stimulating our national patriotism and determination. chapter v the peril of the press bureau it is one of the curses of our parliamentary system that every piece of criticism is immediately ascribed to either party or personal motives, and politicians whose conduct or methods are impugned, for whatever reason, promptly assume, and try to make others believe, that their opponents are actuated by the usual party or personal methods. at the present moment, happily, we have, for the first time within our memory, no politics; the nation stands as one man in its resolve to make an end of the teutonic aggression against the peace of the world. in the recent discussion in the house of commons, however, sir stanley buckmaster, head of the press bureau, upon whom has fallen the rather ruffled and uncomfortable mantle discarded by mr. f.e. smith, seems to have interpreted the very unanimous criticism of the censorship as a personal attack upon himself. as a brilliant lawyer, of course he had no difficulty in making a brilliant reply to a fallacy originated entirely in his own brain. in very truth the personality of sir stanley buckmaster concerns us not at all. he is a loyal englishman. he does not originate the news which the press bureau deals out with such belated parsimony. no one blames him for the fact that the nation is kept so completely in the dark on the subject of the war. if it were possible for sir stanley buckmaster, personally, to censor every piece of news submitted to the press bureau, there would, i venture to think, be a speedy end to the system--or want of system--which permits an item of intelligence to be published in edinburgh or liverpool, but not in london; and that the speeches of cabinet ministers, reported in our papers verbatim, would be allowed free passage to the united states or to the colonies. i wish here to do the head of the press bureau the justice to say that he is an englishman who knows his own mind, and has the courage of his own convictions. yet that does not alter the fact that the press censorship as a system has worked unevenly, with very little apparent method, and with an amazing disregard of the best foreign and colonial opinion which, all along, it has been our interest to keep fully informed of the british side of the case. when the subject was last before the house of commons, some very caustic things were said. mr. joseph king, the radical member for north somerset, moved, and sir william byles, the radical member for north salford, seconded, the following rather terse motion: "that the action of the press bureau in restricting the freedom of the press, and in withholding information about the war, has been actuated by no clear principle and has been calculated to cause suspicion and discontent." now it will be noted that there is, in the first place, no possibility of attributing this motion to political hostility. both the mover and the seconder are supporters of the government, not merely at the present moment, as of course all englishmen are, but in the ordinary course of nightly political warfare. mr. king did not mince matters. he roundly charged the press bureau with exercising inequality, particularly in denying the publication in london of news permitted to be published in the provinces and on the continent. he pressed, too, for the issue of an official statement two or three times a week. this, of course, has since been granted, and it is a very decided improvement. mr. joynson-hicks, from the conservative benches, very truly emphasised the fact that the people of this country want the truth, even if it meant bad news, and added that they also wanted to hear about the heroism of our troops and the valorous deeds of any individual regiments. sir stanley buckmaster, in reply, denied somewhat vehemently that he had ever withheld, for five minutes, any information he had about the war, and asserted that nothing had ever been issued from his office that was not literally and absolutely true. now, as i have said, sir stanley buckmaster's hide-bound department does not originate news, and cannot be held responsible for either the fullness or the accuracy of the official statements. when sir stanley buckmaster tells us that he has _never delayed_ news i accept his word without demur. but when he says nothing has been issued from his department which is not "literally and absolutely true," then i ask him what he means by "literally and absolutely true"? if he means that the news which his department has issued has contained no actual misstatements on a point of fact, i believe his claim to be fully justified. if he means, on the other hand, that the press bureau, or those behind it, have told the nation the whole truth, he makes an assertion which the nation with its gritted teeth to-day will decline, and with very good reason, to accept. to quote mr. bonar law's words again: "from the beginning of the war as much information has not been given as might have been given without damage to national interests." to such full information as may be given without damage to national interests the nation is entitled, and no amount of official sophistry and hair-splitting can alter that plain and demonstrable fact. mr. king, in the resolution i have quoted, charged the head of the bureau with exercising inequality as between different newspapers. now this amounts to a charge of deliberate unfairness which it is very difficult indeed to accept. the house of commons, in fact, did not accept it. none the less, the fact remains that not once or twice, but over and over again, news has been allowed publication in one paper and refused in another, not merely as between london and the provinces, but as between london newspapers which are, necessarily, keen rivals. in support of this assertion i will quote one of the strongest supporters of the government among the london newspapers--the _daily chronicle_. there will be no question of political partisanship about this. after quoting the views of the _times_ and two liberal papers--the _star_ and the _westminster gazette_--the _daily chronicle_ said: "the methods of the censor are, certainly, a little difficult to understand. there reached this office yesterday afternoon, from our correspondent at south shields, a long story of the sinking of vessels in the north sea. it was submitted to us by the censor, who made a number of excisions in it. the telegram was returned to us with the following note by our representative at the press bureau: "'the censor particularly requests that south shields be not mentioned, though we can state "from our east coast correspondent."' "in the meantime the evening newspapers appeared with accounts of some occurrences in which most of the deletions made by the censor in the _daily chronicle_ report _were given_! the censor made the following remarks and excisions in the 'copy' submitted to him by the _daily chronicle_ representative at the press bureau: excisions in "daily where the forbidden passages chronicle" report appeared "please do not mention shields occurred in the reports that this came from south in the _star_ (three times), shields." (note by the _evening news_ (once), _pall mall censor.) gazette_ (three times), _globe_ (three times), _evening standard_ (three times), _westminister gazette_ (once). "within twenty miles of _star_ report stated: "the the mouth of shields harbour"-- trawler was sunk thirty miles (passage eliminated). e.n.e. of the tyne." "landed a cargo of fish this identical phrase, or its at grimsby." ("at grimsby" effect, appeared in the _star_, was eliminated.) _pall mall gazette_, _globe_, _evening standard_, _westminister gazette_. "landed by north the north shields trawler shields fishing steamer." was mentioned by the _star_, ("north shields" eliminated.) _pall mall gazette_, _globe_, _evening standard_. "bound for blyth." this phrase appeared in the ("blyth" eliminated.) _star_, _pall mall gazette_, _globe_, and _evening standard_. * * * * * from the _daily chronicle_ a central news telegram special correspondent. from paris ran as follows (passed by cable censor): _paris, august th._ _paris, thursday_ the ministry of war the following official issued this afternoon the communiqué is issued to the press following note: "in the at . this afternoon: "in region between----" (here the region between the vosges the censor has cut out a and nancy our troops continue short passage) "our troops to progress." continue to progress." "thus we were free to mention the offending passage on the authority of the central news agency, but not on that of 'our own correspondent'! what can be more ridiculous than this?" the importance of the last portion of the _daily chronicle_ article lies in the fact that we have here a clear case of mutilation of the french _official_ despatch, which the french papers even were free to publish! the _daily chronicle_ also mentioned another case in which its special correspondent in paris sent a long despatch giving, on the authority of m. clemenceau, a statement published in paris, that the th army corps gave way in a moment of panic. the censor refused permission to publish it, but another journal published a quotation under the heading: "french soldiers who wavered: officers and men punished by death." i ought, in fairness, to say, in passing, that the instances quoted above took place before sir stanley buckmaster assumed control of the press bureau, and that no responsibility attaches to him in respect of any of them. now, bad as has been the effect of the censorship on public opinion at home, it has been even worse abroad, and particularly in the united states, where the german propaganda had full play, while the british case was sternly withheld. the american press has not hesitated to say that our censors were incompetent and discriminated unfairly between one paper and another. this was untrue in the sense in which it was meant, but it was certainly unfortunate, to put it mildly, that the news of the declaration of war was allowed to be issued by one new york journal, and withheld for seven hours from the associated press, which represents , american and canadian newspapers. it was, perhaps, still more unfortunate that even the speeches of mr. asquith and sir edward grey on the subject of the declaration of war should have been similarly delayed. why? telegraphic reports of these speeches were held up for _four days_ by the censors at cable offices and were then "censored" before they were despatched. i ask, could mischievous and bungling stupidity go farther than this? here is another case. in one of his speeches, mr. asquith, on a friday night in dublin, announced that the indian troops were, that day, landing at marseilles. the speech, and the statement, were reported next day in the london newspapers. _after_ the publication of this, the press bureau forbade any mention of the _landing_ of the indian troops! in the house of commons, on september th, mr. sherwell exposed another instance of the ridiculous vagaries of the unequal censorship. in the _daily chronicle_, he said, there was published a brilliant article by mr. philip gibbs--who was with me during the first balkan campaign--describing the actual operations of sir john french's army up to the last few days. that article was published without comment and without criticism in the _daily chronicle_, yet the cable censor refused to allow it to be sent to the _new york times_. again why? it is, or should be, the function of the press bureau not merely to supply the public with accurate news, but to make sure that false or misleading reports are promptly suppressed. the reason for this is obvious. we do not wish to be depressed by unfounded stories of disaster, nor do we wish to experience the inevitable reaction which follows when we learn that we have been deluded by false news of a great victory. whatever may be the _raison d'être_ of the press bureau, it is assuredly not maintained for the purpose of assisting in the circulation of utterly futile fiction about the progress of the campaign. again: _are we told the truth?_ early in january a report--passed of course by the censor--appeared in practically every newspaper in the country, and probably in thousands of papers in all parts of the british empire, announcing the capture by the british troops of a very important german position at la bassée. the engagement was described as a brilliant one, in which the enemy lost heavily; circumstantial details were added, and on the face of it the news bore every indication of being based on trustworthy reports from the fighting line. it is true that it was not official, but the circumstances made it so important that, inasmuch as it had been passed by the censor, it was naturally assumed by every newspaper editor to be accurate. a few days later every one was amazed to learn, from official sources, that there was not a word of truth in the whole story! yet the censor had actually passed it for publication. and so the public pay their halfpennies to be gulled! i say, without hesitation, that this incident casts the very gravest reflection on the discretion and efficiency of the whole censorship. to permit the publication of an utterly baseless story of this nature, is simply to assist in hoaxing the public and the crying of false news. we await the next hoax. we may have it to-morrow. who knows? the censors in the matter are on the threshold of a dilemma. if the story in question were true, it ought to have been published on official authority without delay: as it was untrue, its publication should have on no account been permitted. consider the circumstances. sir john french, on november th, stated that throughout the battle of ypres-armentières, the position at la bassée had defied all efforts at capture, and naturally the most intense anxiety had been felt for news of a definite success in this region. yet the public, after hearing, by official sanction, the news of a success which would clearly have resulted in the germans being driven pell-mell out of la bassée, were calmly told, a few days later, that the entire story was a lie. to my mind, and i think the reader will agree with me, we could have no stronger illustration of the utter futilities and farcical eccentricities of the censorship as it to-day exists. are we told the truth about the war? no, i declare--_we are not!_ i will go a step farther. the suppression of news by the censorship is bad enough, but what are we to think of a deliberate attempt to stifle perfectly legitimate criticisms of ministers and their methods? as those who read these pages are aware, i have taken a prominent part in the effort to bring home to the public the dire peril to which we are exposed through the presence in our midst of hordes of uncontrolled enemy aliens. i deal with this subject elsewhere, and i should not mention it here except that it is connected in a very special way with an attempt on the part of the press bureau to stifle public discussion on a matter of the gravest importance. the _globe_ newspaper has, with commendable patriotism, devoted much attention to the question of the presence of alien spies in our midst, and, on many occasions, its correspondence and editorial columns have contained valuable information and comments. on september th last the _globe_ published the following letter: "press bureau, " , charing cross. "_september th, ._ "dear sir, "mr. f.e. smith desires me to draw your attention to a letter headed 'a german's outburst,' which appeared in your issue of the nd instant, and a facsimile of which appeared in your issue of the th instant. this letter has received the notice of the home secretary, who expresses the view that 'the articles and letters in the _globe_ are causing something in the nature of a panic in the matter of spies' and desires that they should be suppressed at once. in view of this expression of opinion by the home secretary, mr. smith has no doubt that you will refrain, in the future, from publishing articles or letters of a similar description. "yours very truly, "harold smith, _secretary_." very properly, the _globe_ pointed out that, in this matter, "nothing less is at stake than the liberty of the press to defend the public interest and criticise the administrative acts of a minister of the crown." the unwarrantable attempt of the home secretary, through the press bureau, to suppress criticism of this nature, to stop the mouths of those who insisted on warning the public of a peril which he has, all along, blindly refused to see, raises a constitutional issue of the very gravest kind. the _globe_ promptly asked the press bureau under what authority it claimed the "power to suppress the free expression of opinion in the english press on subjects wholly unconnected with military or naval movements." mr. harold smith's reply was the amazing assertion that such powers were conferred by the defence of the realm acts. he wrote: "press bureau, " , charing cross. "_september th, ._ "dear sir, "i am instructed by mr. f.e. smith to acknowledge your letter of to-day's date. on mr. smith's direction, i wrote you a letter, which, on re-reading, you will perceive was intended to convey to you the opinion of the home office, rather than an expressed intention of censorship in this bureau. you will, of course, use your own discretion in the matter, but mr. smith thinks that a consideration of the terms of the defence of the realm acts (nos. and ), and the regulations made thereunder, will satisfy you that the secretary of state is not without the legal powers necessary to make his desire for supervision effective. "yours faithfully, "harold smith, _secretary_." this reads very much like a threat to try the editor of the _globe_ by court-martial for the heinous offence of suggesting that mr. mckenna's handling of the spy-peril was not exactly what was required by the exigencies of the public safety. i must say that when i read the correspondence i was inclined to tremble for my own head! so far, however, it is still safe upon my shoulders. i, as a patriotic englishman who has dared to speak his mind, have no intention of desisting--even at the risk of being court-martialled--from the efforts i have continued for so long to arouse my countrymen to a realisation of the dangers to which we are exposed by the obstinate refusal of the government to face facts. the privilege of the press to criticise ministers was boldly asserted by the _globe_, which, in a leading article, said: "that correspondence ... raises issues directly affecting the independence of the press and its right to frank and unfettered criticism. at the time when we are receiving from our ever-increasing circle of readers many gratifying tributes to the sanity of our views, and the informing character of our columns, we are accused of publishing matter calculated to induce panic, and we have been called upon to suppress at once the articles and letters directing attention to the dangers arising from the lax methods of the home secretary in dealing with the alien enemy in our midst." after referring to a statement made by mr. mckenna in the house of commons the previous day as likely "to do something to allay public anxiety" on the subject, the _globe_ proceeded: "we are content with the knowledge that the attitude of the _globe_ has done something to convince the government of the widespread feeling that the danger from the alien enemy we harbour is real, and the fear justified. here we should be content to leave the question for the present, but for the attitude of the home secretary in seeking to prevent comment and criticism on his administrative acts, coupled with the veiled suggestion from the press bureau of power possessed under an emergency act. this attempt at pressure is made through a department set up for quite other and legitimate purposes.... if a government department, under cover of an order in council made for a wholly different purpose, is to shield itself from an exposure of its inefficiency, a dangerous precedent is set up, dangerous alike to the community and the press." we have to bear in mind, in this connection, that the press bureau had just been reorganised. mr. f. e. smith had resigned, on leaving for the front, and _the home secretary was the minister responsible to parliament for its conduct_. at his request the press bureau endeavoured to prevent the _globe_ continuing to criticise his action, or rather inaction. well indeed might the _globe_ say: "we must reserve to ourselves the right, at all times, to give expression to views on ministerial policy and even to dare to criticise the action of the home secretary." and i venture to say that, but for the jealousy inherent among british newspapers, the _globe_ would have had the unanimous support of every metropolitan and provincial journal, every single one of which was vitally affected by the home secretary's preposterous claim. the claim of the country for fuller information has been expressed in many ways, and by many people, and it has been admitted by no less a personage than mr. asquith himself. in the house of commons early in september mr. asquith said the government felt "that the public is entitled to prompt and authentic information of what has happened at the front, and they are making arrangements which they hope will be more adequate." that was months ago, and, up to the present, very few signs of the "prompt and authentic information" have been perceptible. even more significant is the following passage from the latest despatches of sir john french, which covered the period from november th to the beginning of february: "i regard it as most unfortunate that circumstances have prevented any account of many splendid instances of courage and endurance, in the face of almost unparalleled hardship and fatigue of war, coming regularly to the knowledge of the public." now i do not want to read into sir john french's words a meaning that he did not intend to convey, but this passage certainly strikes me, as it has struck many others, as a very definite plea for the presence at the front of duly accredited and responsible war correspondents. and why not? news could be still censored so that no information of value could reach the enemy. we should not be prejudiced one iota, but, on the other hand, should get prompt and trustworthy news, written by skilled journalists in a fashion that would make an irresistible appeal to the manhood of britain. and we should be far nearer than we are to-day to learning "the truth about the war." it has been urged, on behalf of the press bureau, that of late matters have been very much improved. my journalistic friends tell me that so far as the actual working is concerned this is a fact. there has undoubtedly been less of the haphazard methods which were characteristic of the early days. but there is still too much of what the _times_ very properly calls the "throttling" of permissible news, and, in spite of the fact that two despatches a week are now published from sir john french, we are still in the dark as to the _real_ story of the great campaign. neither our successes nor our failures are adequately described. we are still not told "the truth about the war." and i cannot help saying that the deficiencies of the official information are not made up by the tactics of certain sections of the press. there is too much of a tendency to magnify the good and minimise the bad. there are too many "great victories" to be altogether convincing. as the _morning post_ put it: "there seems to be a large section of the public which takes its news as an old charwoman takes her penn'orth of gin, 'for comfort.' and some of our contemporaries seem to cater for this little weakness. every day there is a 'great advance' or a 'brilliant victory,' and if a corporal's guard is captured or surrenders we have a flaming announcement on all the posters." it is very true. from the fiercest critics of the press bureau's methods we do not to-day get "the truth about the war," even so far as they know it. even the _daily news_ has been moved to raise a protest against the present state of affairs, and as recently as march th declared that the mind of authority "is being fed on selected facts that convey a wholly false impression of things." chapter vi the peril of the enemy alien "_every enemy alien is known, and is now under constant police surveillance._"--mr. tennant, under-secretary for war, in the house of commons, march rd. one of the gravest perils with which the country is still faced is that of the enemy alien. notwithstanding all that has been written and said upon this most serious question, ministers are still content to pursue a shuttlecock policy, in which there is very little satisfaction for any intelligent patriot. each time the subject is brought up in the house of commons there is an apparent intention of the government to wilfully throw dust into the eyes of the public, and prevent the whole mystery of the official protection afforded to our enemies being sifted to the bottom. a disgraceful illustration of this was given on march rd, when mr. joynson-hicks moved: "that in the opinion of this house it is desirable that the whole administration of the acts and regulations concerning aliens and suspected persons should be centred in the hands of one minister, who should be responsible to the house." the debate which followed was illuminating. sir henry dalziel, who is strongly in favour of a central board to deal with spies among us--a suggestion i made in my recent book "german spies in england," as a satisfactory solution of the problem--said, in the course of a splendid speech, that the government knew that, at the present moment, there was a settled spy-system, and there was no use denying it. as the _daily telegraph_ on the following day pointed out, that there is such a system is almost as natural an assumption as that the enemy possesses an army service organisation or a press censorship. i have already pointed out, in various books i have written, that systematic espionage is, and has been for many years, a most cherished part of german war administration, developed with characteristic thoroughness. the question is whether that department of the enemy's activity has, or has not, been stamped out as regards this country; and it would be idle to pretend that there is any public confidence that it has been stamped out. there is an absence of vigour and an absence of system about the dealing with this source of danger, and i maintain that the national safety requires the taking of this matter more seriously, and the placing of it upon a satisfactory footing. the government admitted that, on march rd, _seven hundred male enemy aliens_ were living in the east coast prohibited area, and we know that arrangements for their control are so futile as to leave, quite unmolested, some individuals whose known connections expose them to the highest degree of suspicion. of one such notorious case, mr. bonar law--who cannot, surely, be accused of spy-mania--declared that he would as soon have allowed a german army to land as allow the person in question to be at large in this country. how the arrangement has worked in another particular case was exposed in some detail by mr. butcher. the lady concerned is closely related to more than one of those in power in germany. her case was reported to the war office. the war office called upon the general officer commanding in the northern district to take action. he requested the police to make inquiries, and the chief constable of the east riding subsequently reported, "strongly recommending" the removal of the lady from the prohibited area. the general accepted this advice, and an order was made for her removal on january th. it was never executed; and on february th it was withdrawn. such is one illustration of the utter hopelessness of the present state of affairs. and yet, in face of it, mr. tennant, under-secretary for war, actually rose and made the definite assertion _that every enemy alien was known and constantly watched_! could any greater and more glaring official untruth be told? is every enemy alien known, i ask? let us examine a case in point, one in which i have made personal investigation, and to the truth of which a dozen officers of his majesty's service, and also civilians, are ready to testify. investigations recently made in certain german quarters in london, notably in the obscure foreign restaurants in the neighbourhood of tottenham court road, where men--many of them recently released from internment-camps--and women meet nightly and toast to the day of britain's destruction, revealed to me a startling fact. here, posing as an italian and a neutral, i learnt facts regarding the movements of german aircraft long before they were known either to our own authorities or to the press. for several weeks this fact, i confess, caused me considerable thought. some secret means of communication must, i realised, exist between the enemy's camp and london, perhaps by wireless, perhaps by the new german-laid cable, the shore-end of which is at bacton, in norfolk, and which, eighteen months ago, in company with the german telegraph-engineers, i assisted to test as it was laid across the north sea to nordeney. in the archives of the intelligence department of the war office will be found my report, together with a copy of the first message transmitted by the new cable from norfolk to germany, a telegram from one of the kaiser's sons who happened to be in scotland at the time, and addressed to the emperor, which read: "hurrah for a strong navy!"--significant indeed in the light of recent events! i was wondering if, by any secret means, this cable could be in operation when, on the afternoon of february rd, an officer of the naval armoured car squadron called upon me and invited me to assist in hunting spies in surrey. the suggestion sounded exciting. signals had been seen for a month or so past, flashed from a certain house high upon the surrey hills. would i assist in locating them, and prosecuting a full inquiry? within half an hour i was in a car speeding towards the point where mystery brooded, and which we did not reach till after dark. a gentleman living three miles across the valley, whose house commanded full view of the house under suspicion--a large one with extensive grounds--at once placed a room at our disposal, wherein we sat and watched. in the whole of these investigations i was assisted by an officer who was an expert in signalling and wireless, a signaller of the service, two other officers equally expert in reading the morse code, while i myself have qualified both in morse and wireless, and hold the postmaster-general's licence. on the previous evening an all-night vigil had been kept, and messages had been read, but i only here record my own experiences of this exciting spy-hunt. on reaching our point of vantage i learned that suspicion had first been aroused by a mysterious and intense white light being shown from a window in the country mansion in question, which was situated upon so strategic a point that it could be seen very many miles in the direction of london. and there, sure enough, was the one brilliant light--at all other windows of the house the blinds being drawn--shining like a beacon all over the country. it had shone first at . p.m. that night, and, as i watched, it showed till . , when it disappeared. after three minutes it was shown till . exactly, when suddenly it signalled in morse the code-letters "s.m." repeated twice, and then disappeared till o'clock, when again the same signal was made. the light remained full on for ten minutes, and was then suddenly switched off. this was certainly remarkable. the officers with me--all experts in signalling--were unanimous as to the two letters, and also to their repetition. these signals, i learned, had been seen times without number, but until the smart young officer who had called upon me had noticed them, no action had been taken. having established that mysterious signalling was really in progress, i set forth upon further investigation. taking my own signalling-apparatus, a very strong electric lamp with accumulators and powerful reflectors, which would show for fifteen miles or more, i got into the car with my companions--who were eager to assist--and, having consulted ordnance-maps and compass, we went to a spot high-up in an exposed position, where i anticipated the answering light from the mansion might be seen. we found ourselves in a private park, upon a spot which, by day, commands an immense stretch of country, and from which it is said that upon a clear day the sussex coast can be seen. here we erected our signalling-apparatus and waited in patience. the night proved bitterly cold, and as the hours crept slowly by, the sleet began to cut our faces. yet all our eyes were fixed upon that mysterious house which had previously signalled. for hours we waited in vain until, of a sudden, quite unexpectedly from the direction of london, we saw another intense white light shining from out the darkness. for a full half-hour it remained there, a beacon like the other. then suddenly it began winking, and this was the code-message it sent: "s.h.i.s. (pause) h. . (pause) s.h.i.s.f. (pause with the light full on for two minutes). i.s. i.e. (pause) e.s.t. (light out)." turning my signal-lamp in its direction, i repeated the first portion of the mysterious message, and then, pretending not to understand, asked for a repetition. at once this was given, and, with my companions, i received it perfectly clearly! sorely tempted as i was to signal further, i refrained for fear of arousing suspicion, and, actuated by patriotic motives, we agreed at once to prosecute our inquiry further, and then leave it to "the proper authorities" to deal with the matter. through the whole of that night--an intensely cold one--we remained on watch upon one of the highest points in surrey, a spot which i do not here indicate for obvious reasons--and not until the grey dawn at last appeared did we relinquish our watchfulness. all next day, assisted by the same young officer who had first noticed the unusual lights, i spent in making confidential inquiry regarding the mysterious house and elicited several interesting facts, one being that the family, who were absent from the house showing the lights, employed a servant who, though undoubtedly german--for, by a ruse, i succeeded in obtaining the address of this person's family in germany--was posing as swiss. that a brisk correspondence had been kept up with persons in germany was proved in rather a curious way, and by long and diligent inquiry many other highly interesting facts were elicited. with my young officer friend and a gentleman who rendered us every assistance, placing his house and his car at our disposal, we crept cautiously up to the house in the early hours one morning, narrowly escaping savage dogs, while one adventure of my own was to break through a boundary fence, only to find myself in somebody's chicken-run! that night was truly one of adventure. nevertheless, it established many things--one being that in the room whence the signals emanated was a three-branch electrolier with unusually strong bulbs, while behind it, set over the mantelshelf, was a mirror, or glazed picture, to act as a reflector in the direction of london. the signals were, no doubt, made by working the electric-light switch. the following night saw us out again, for already reports received had established a line of signals from a spot on the kent coast to london and farther north, other watchers being set in order to compare notes with us. again we watched the beacon-light on the mysterious house. we saw those mysterious letters "s.m."--evidently of significance--winked out in morse, and together we watched the answering signals. all the evening the light remained full on until at . a.m. we once more watched "s.m." being sent, while soon after a.m. the light went out. in the fourteen exciting days and nights which followed, i motored many hundreds of miles over surrey, sussex, and kent, instituting inquiries and making a number of amazing discoveries, not the least astounding of which was that, only one hour prior to the reception of that message on the first evening of our vigil--"h. "--five german aeroplanes had actually set out from the belgian coast towards england! that secret information was being sent from the kent coast to london was now proved, not only at one point, but at several, where i have since waited and watched, and, showing signals in the same code, have been at once answered and repeated. and every night, until the hour of writing, this same signalling from the coast to london is in progress, and has been watched by responsible officers of his majesty's service. after the first nights of vigilance, i had satisfied myself that messages in code were being sent, so i reported--as a matter of urgency--to the intelligence department of the war office--that department of which mr. mckenna, on march rd, declared, "there is no more efficient department of the state." the result was only what the public might expect. though this exposure was vouched for by experts in signalling, men wearing his majesty's uniform, all the notice taken of it has been _war office, whitehall, s.w._ th february . _the director of military operations presents his compliments to_ mr. w. le queux, _and begs to acknowledge, with thanks, the receipt of his letter of the_ th inst. _which is receiving attention_. a mere _printed acknowledgment_--reproduced above--that my report had been received, while to my repeated appeals that proper inquiry be made i have not even received a reply! but further. while engaged in watching in another part of surrey on the night of march rd, certain officers of the armoured car squadron, who were keeping vigil upon the house of mystery, saw some green and white rockets being discharged from the top of the hill. their suspicions aroused, they searched and presently found, not far from the house in question, a powerful motor-car of german make containing three men. the latter when challenged gave no satisfactory account of themselves, therefore the officers held up the car while one of them telephoned to the admiralty for instructions. the reply received was "that they had no right to detain the car!" but, even in face of this official policy of do-nothing, they took off the car's powerful searchlight, which was on a swivel, and sent it to the admiralty for identification. this plain straightforward statement of what is nightly in progress can be substantiated by dozens of persons, and surely, in face of the observations taken by service men themselves--the names of whom i will readily place at the disposal of the government--it is little short of a public scandal that no attempt has been made to inquire into the matter or to seize the line of spies simultaneously. it really seems plain that to-day the enemy alien may work his evil will anywhere as a spy. on the other hand, it is a most heinous offence for anybody to ride a cycle without a back-lamp! it will be remembered that in norfolk it has been found, by mr. holcombe ingleby, m.p. for king's lynn, that the zeppelin raid on the east coast was directed by a mysterious motor-car with a searchlight. therefore the apathy of the admiralty in not ordering full inquiry into the case in question will strike the reader as extraordinary. this is the sort of proceeding that gives force to the contention of those supporting the motion of mr. joynson-hicks in the house of commons, that the whole matter of spies ought to be placed in the hands of a special authority devoted to it alone, and responsible to parliament. as things stand, the country is certainly in agreement with mr. bonar law in believing that the government "have not sufficiently realised the seriousness of this danger, and have not taken every step to make it as small as possible." most people will agree with mr. john s. scrimgeour, who, commenting upon the shuffling of the government, said: "let the press cease from blaming the strikers. also let 'the men in power' cease from their censuring, for very shame. can i, or any man in the street, believe that we are 'fighting for our lives' while the enemy lives contentedly among us? read the debate, and take as samples mentioned therein--'brother of the governor of liége,' 'german financial houses,' and 'baron von bissing.' don't make scapegoats of these working-men, or even of the non-enlisting ones, while such is the case. neither they, nor any one else in his senses, can believe in the seriousness of this 'life struggle' while the above state of things continues. it is laughable--or deadly." the intelligence department of the war office--that department so belauded by mr. mckenna--certainly did not display an excess of zeal in the case of signalling in surrey, for, to my two letters begging that inquiry be made as a matter of urgency, i was not even vouchsafed the courtesy of a reply. yet i was not surprised, for in a case at the end of january in which two supposed belgian refugees, after living in one of our biggest seaports and making many inquiries there, being about to escape to antwerp, i warned that same department and urged that they should be questioned before leaving london. i gave every detail, even to the particular boat by which they were leaving for flushing. no notice, however, was taken of my report, and not until _three days after they had left for the enemy's camp_ did i receive the usual _printed acknowledgment_ that my report had been received!" that night-signalling has long been in progress in the south of england is shown by the following. written by a well-known gentleman, it reached me while engaged in my investigations in surrey. he says: "the following facts have been brought to my notice, and may be of interest to you. in the first week of october six soldiers were out on patrol duty around folkestone looking for spies--always on night-duty. "one night they saw morse signalling going on on a hill along the sea outside folkestone. the signalling was in code. they divided into two parties of three, and proceeded to surround the place. on approaching, a shot was heard, and a bullet went through the black oilskin coat of one man (they were all wearing these over their khaki). they went on and discovered two germans with a strong acetylene lamp, one of them having a revolver with six chambers, and one discharged, also ten spare rounds of ammunition. "they secured them and took them to the police station, but all that happened was that they were shut up in a concentration camp! this story was told me by one of the six who were on duty, and assisted at the capture." to me, there is profound mystery in the present disinclination of the intelligence department of the war office to institute inquiry. as a voluntary worker in that department under its splendid chief, col. g.w.m. macdonogh--now, alas! transferred elsewhere--my modest reports furnished from many places, at home and abroad, always received immediate attention and a private letter of thanks written in the chief's own hand. on the outbreak of war, however, red-tape instantly showed itself, and i received a letter informing me that i must, in future, address myself to the director of military operations--the department which is supposed to deal with spies. i trust that the reader will accept my words when i say that i am not criticising lord kitchener's very able administration. if i felt confident that he, and he alone, was responsible for the surveillance of enemy aliens in our midst, then i would instantly lay down my pen upon the subject. but while the present grave peril continues, and while the government continue in their endeavour to bewilder and mislead us by placing the onus first upon the police, then, in turn, upon the home office--which, it must be remembered, made an official statement early in the war and assured us that there were no spies--then upon the war office, then upon the admiralty war staff, while they, in turn, shift the responsibility on to the shoulders of the local police-constable in uniform, then i will continue to raise my voice in protest, and urge upon the public to claim their right to know the truth. this enemy alien question is one of britain's deadliest perils, and yet, by reason of some mysterious influence in high quarters, ministers are straining every muscle to still delude and mislead the public. these very men who are audacious enough to tell us that there are no german spies in great britain are the same who, by that secret report of the kaiser's speech and his intention to make war upon us which i furnished to the british secret service in ,[ ] knew the truth, yet nevertheless adopted a policy that was deliberately intended to close the eyes of the british public and lull it to sleep, so that, in august, our beloved nation nearly met with complete disaster. but the british public to-day are no longer children, nor are they in the mood to be trifled with and treated as such. the speeches made by mr. mckenna in the house of commons on march rd have revealed to us that the policy towards aliens is one of untruth and sham. the debate has aroused an uneasiness in the country which will only be restored with the greatest difficulty. to be deliberately told that the intelligence department of the war office is cognisant of every enemy alien--in face of what i have just related--is to ask the public to believe a fiction. and, surely, fiction is not what we want to-day. we want hard fact--substantiated fact. we are not playing at war--as so many people seem to think because of the splendid patriotism of the sons of britain--but we are fighting with all our force in defence of our homes and our loved ones, who, if weak-kneed counsels prevail, will most assuredly be butchered to make the kaiser a german holiday. that public opinion is highly angered in consequence of the refusal of the government to admit the danger of spies, and face the problem in a proper spirit of sturdy patriotism, is shown by the great mass of correspondence which has reached me in consequence of my exposures in "german spies in england." the letters i have received from all classes, ranging from peers to working-men, testify to an astounding state of affairs, and if the reader could but see some of this flood of correspondence which has overwhelmed me, he would realise the widespread fear of the peril of enemy aliens, and the public distrust of the apathy of the government towards it. surely this is not surprising, even if judged only by my own personal experiences. how the public are deluded! _the "times," february th_ the secretary of the admiralty makes the following announcement: information has been received that two persons, posing as an officer and sergeant, and dressed in khaki, are going about the country attempting to visit military works, etc. they were last seen in the midlands on the th instant, when they effected an entry into the works of a firm who are doing engineer's work for the admiralty. they made certain inquiries as to the presence or otherwise of anti-aircraft guns, which makes it probable that they are foreign agents in disguise. all contractors engaged on work for h.m. navy are hereby notified with a view to the apprehension of these individuals, and are advised that no persons should be admitted to their works unless notice has been received beforehand of their coming. _the "times," march th_ mr. tennant, under-secretary for war, during the debate in the house of commons upon the question of enemy aliens, raised by mr. joynson-hicks, said he could give the house the assurance that every single enemy alien was _known_, and was _at the present moment_ under constant police surveillance. he wished to inform the house and the country that they had at the war office a branch which included the censorship and other services all directed to the one end of safeguarding the country from the operations of undesirable persons. it would not be right to speak publicly of the activities of that branch, but it was doing most admirable service, and he repudiated with all earnestness the suggestion that the department did not take this matter of espionage with the utmost seriousness. let us further examine the facts. mr. mckenna, in a speech made in the house of commons on november th on the subject, said: "the moment the war office has decided upon the policy, the home office places at the disposal of the war office the whole of its machinery." on march rd the home secretary repeated that statement, and declared, in a retort made to mr. joynson-hicks, that he was not shirking responsibility, as _he had never had any_! now, if this be true, why did mr. mckenna make the communiqué to the press soon after the outbreak of war, assuring us that there were no spies in england, and that all the enemy aliens were such dear good people? i commented upon it in the _daily telegraph_ on the following day, and over my own name apologised to the public for my past offence of daring to mention that such gentry had ever existed among us. if lord kitchener were actually responsible, then one may ask why had the home secretary felt himself called upon to tell the public that pretty fairy-tale? now with regard to the danger of illicit wireless. early in january --seven months before the outbreak of war--being interested in wireless myself, and president of a wireless association, my suspicions were aroused regarding certain persons, some of them connected with an amateur club in the neighbourhood of hatton garden. having thoroughly investigated the matter, and also having been able to inspect some of the apparatus used by these persons, i made, on february th, , a report upon the whole matter to the director of military intelligence, pointing out the ease with which undesirable persons might use wireless. the director was absent on leave, and no action was taken in the matter. a month later i went to the wireless department of the general post office, who had granted me my own licence, and was received there with every courtesy and thanked for my report, which was regarded with such seriousness that it was forwarded at once to the admiralty, who have wireless under their control. in due course the admiralty gave it over to the police to make inquiries, and the whole matter was, i suppose--as is usual in such cases--dealt with and reported upon by a constable in uniform. here let me record something further. in february last i called at new scotland yard in order to endeavour to get the police to make inquiry into two highly suspicious cases, one of a person at winchester, and the other concerning signal-lights seen north-east of london in the metropolitan district. i had interviews with certain officials of the special department, and also with one of the assistant commissioners, and after much prevarication i gathered--not without surprise--that no action could be taken _without the consent of the home office_! how this latter fact can be in accordance with the home secretary's statement in the house of commons i confess i fail to see. but i warn the government that the alien peril--now that so many civil persons have been released from the internment camps--is a serious and growing one. the responsibility should, surely, not be placed upon, or implied to rest upon, lord kitchener, who is so nobly performing a gigantic task. if the public believed that he was really responsible, then they, and myself, would at once maintain silence. the british public believes in lord kitchener, and, as one man, will follow him to the end. but it certainly will not believe or tolerate this see-saw policy of false assurances and delusion, and the attempt to stifle criticism--notably the case of the _globe_--of which the home office have been guilty. there is a rising feeling of wrath, as well as a belief that the peril from within with which the country is faced--the peril of the thousands of enemy aliens in our midst--most of whom are not under control--together with the whole army of spies ready and daily awaiting, in impatience, the signal to strike simultaneously--is wilfully disregarded. even the police themselves--no finer body of men than whom exists anywhere in the world--openly express disgust at the appalling neglect of the mysterious so-called "authorities" to deal with the question with a firm and strong hand. naturally, the reader asks why is not inquiry made into cases of real suspicion reported by responsible members of the community. i have before me letters among others from peers, clergymen, solicitors, justices of the peace, members of city councils, a well-known shipowner, a government contractor, members of parliament, baronets, etc., all giving me cases of grave suspicion of spies, and all deploring that no inquiry is made, application to the police being fruitless, and asking my advice as to what quarter they should report them. all these reports, and many more, i will willingly place at the service of a proper authority, appointed with powers to effectively deal with the matter. at present, however, after my own experience as an illustration of the sheer hopelessness of the situation, the reader will not wonder that i am unable to give advice. could germany's unscrupulous methods go farther than the scandal exposed in america, in the late days of february, of how captain boy-ed, naval attaché of the german embassy at washington, and the kaiser's spy-master in the united states, endeavoured to induce the man stegler to cross to england and spy on behalf of germany? in this, germany is unmasked. captain boy-ed was looked upon as one of the ablest german naval officers. he is tall and broad-shouldered, speaks english fluently, and in order to americanise his appearance has shaved off his "prince henry" whiskers which german naval officers traditionally affect. when he took up his duties at washington he was a man of about forty-five, and ranked in the german navy as lieutenant-commander. but his career of usefulness as naval attaché, with an office in the shipping quarters of new york, has been irretrievably impaired by the charges of stegler, whose wife produced many letters in proof of the allegation that the attaché was the mainspring of a conspiracy to secure english-speaking spies for service to be rendered by german submarines and other german warships on the british side of the atlantic. the plot, exposed in every paper in the united states, was a low and cunning one, and quite in keeping with the methods of the men of "kultur." mrs. stegler, a courageous little woman from georgia, saw how her husband--an export clerk in new york--was being drawn into the german net as a spy, and she stimulated her husband to give the whole game away. to the united states police, stegler, at his wife's suggestion, was perfectly frank and open. he exposed the whole dastardly plot. he stated that captain boy-ed engineered the spy-plot that cost lody his life, and declared that in his dealings with the attaché the matter of going to england as a spy progressed to a point where the money that was to be paid to his wife for her support while he was in england was discussed. captain boy-ed, stegler went on to say, agreed to pay mrs. stegler £ a month while he was in england, and furthermore agreed that if the british discovered his mission and he met the fate of lody, mrs. stegler was to receive £ a month from the german government as long as she lived! stegler said he told his wife of the agreement to pay to her the amount named, and that she asked him what guarantee he could give that the money would be paid as promised. at that time mrs. stegler did not know the perilous nature of the mission that her husband had consented to undertake. when stegler reported fully to his american wife, and she got from him the entire story of his proposed trip to england, she, like a brave woman, determined to foil the conspiracy. captain boy-ed was not convincing regarding the payment to her for the services of her husband as a spy by the german government for life, and she told her husband that the german government would probably treat captain boy-ed's promise to pay as a "mere scrap of paper." having been urged to study the recent history of belgium, stegler confessed that he had his doubts. finally he resolved to reveal the existence of a plot to supply german spies from new york. could any facts be more illuminating than these? surely no man in great britain, after reading this, can further doubt the existence of german-american spies among us. there is not, i think, a single reader of these pages who will not agree with the words of that very able and well-informed writer who veils his identity in the _referee_ under the _nom-de-plume_ of "vanoc." on march th he wrote: "this is no question of party. i am not going to break the party truce. in the interests of the british empire, however, i ask that a list of all the men of german stock or of hebrew-german stock who have received distinctions, honours, titles, appointments, contracts, or sinecures, both inside or outside the house of commons, house of lords, and privy council, shall be prepared, printed, and circulated. also a list of frenchmen, russians, and colonials so honoured. it is also necessary for a clear understanding of the spy-question that the public should know whether it is a fact that favoured german individuals have contributed large sums to political party funds on both sides, and whether the tenderness that is shown teutons or hebrew-teutons decorated or rewarded with contracts, favours, or distinctions is due to the obvious fact that if dangerous spies were not allowed their freedom party government would be exposed, discredited, and abolished." this is surely a demand which will be heartily supported by every one who has the welfare of his country at heart. too long have we been misled by the bogus patriotism of supposed "naturalised" germans, who, in so many cases, have purchased honours with money filched from the poor. "vanoc" in his indictment goes on to say: "the facts are incredible. i know of one case of a german actually employed on secret service at the war office. this german is the son of the agent of a vast german enterprise engaged in making munitions and guns for the destruction of the sons, brothers, and lovers of the very englishwomen who are now engaged most wisely and energetically in waking the country to a sense of the spy-peril that lurks in our midst. the british public does not understand a decimal point of a tithe of the significance of the spy-peril. nonsense is talked about spies. energy is concentrated on the little spies, who don't count. much german money is wasted on unintelligent spies. the british officers to whom is entrusted the duty of spy-taking, if they are outside the political influence which is poisonous to our national life, are probably the best in the world. the big spies are still potent in control of our national life." are we not, indeed, coddling the hun? even the pampering of german officers at donington hall pales into insignificance when we recollect that, upon dr. macnamara's admission, £ , a month, or £ , , per year, is being paid for the hire of ships in which to intern german prisoners, and this is at a time when the scarcity of shipping is sending up the cost of every necessity! the hague convention, of course, forbids the use of gaols for prisoners of war, yet have we not many nice comfortable workhouses, industrial schools, and such-like institutions which could be utilised? we all know how vilely the germans are treating our officers and men who are their prisoners, even depriving them of sufficient rations, and forbidding tobacco, fruit, or tinned vegetables. with this in view, the country are asking, and not without reason, why we should treat those in our hands as welcome guests. certainly our attitude has produced disgust in the dominions. how germany must be laughing at us! how the enemy aliens in certain quarters of london are jeering at us, openly, and toasting to the day of our downfall, i have already described. how the spies among us--unknown in spite of mr. tennant's amazing assertion--must be laughing in their sleeves and chuckling over the panic and disaster for which they are waiting from day to day in the hope of achieving. the signal--the appearance of zeppelins over london--has not yet been given. whether it will ever be given we know not. all we know is that an unscrupulous enemy, whose influence is widespread over our land, working insidiously and in secret, has prepared for us a blow from within our gates which, when it comes, will stagger even mr. mckenna himself. with the example of how spies, in a hundred guises, have been found in belgium, in france, in russia, in egypt, and even in gallant little serbia, can any sane man believe that there are none to-day in great britain? no. the public know it, and the government know it, but the latter are endeavouring to hoodwink those who demand action in the house of commons, just as they endeavour to mystify the members of the public who present reports of suspicious cases. the question is: _are we here told the truth?_ i leave it to the reader of the foregoing pages to form his own conclusions, and to say whether he is satisfied to be further deluded and mystified without raising his voice in protest for the truth to be told, and the spy-peril to be dealt with by those fully capable of doing so, instead of adopting methods which are daily playing into germany's hands and preparing us upon the altar of our own destruction. i have here written the truth, and i leave it to the british public themselves to judge me, and to judge those who, failing in their duty at this grave crisis of our national history, are courting a disaster worse than that which overtook poor stricken belgium. footnotes: [footnote : for a full report of this astounding speech see "german spies in england," by william le queux, .] chapter vii the peril of deluding the public as showing the trend of public opinion regarding the spy-peril, i may perhaps be permitted to here give a few examples taken haphazard from the huge mass of correspondence with which i have been daily flooded since the publication of my exposure on that subject. many of my correspondents have, no doubt, made discoveries of serious cases of espionage. yet, as spies are nobody's business, the authorities, in the majority of cases, have not even troubled to inquire into the allegations made by responsible persons. i freely admit that many wild reports have been written and circulated by hysterical persons who believe that every twinkling light they see is the flashing of signals, and that spies lurk in houses in every quiet and lonely spot. it is so very easy to become affected with spy-mania, especially when one recollects that every german abroad is patriotic, and his first object is to become a secret agent of the fatherland. in this connection i have no more trust in the so-called "naturalised" german than in the full-blooded and openly avowed prussian. once a man is born a german he is always a german, and in taking out naturalisation papers he is only deliberately cheating the country which grants them, because, according to the imperial law of his own land, he cannot change his own nationality. so let us, once and for all, dismiss for ever the hollow farce of naturalisation, for its very act is one of fraud, and only attempted with some ulterior motive. as regards "unnaturalised" germans the inquirer may perhaps be permitted to ask why baron von ow-wachendorf, a lieutenant in the yellow uhlans of stuttgart, just under thirty years of age, was permitted to practise running in hyde park so as to fit himself for his military duties, and why was he on march st allowed to leave tilbury for holland to fight against us? again, has not mr. ronald mcneill put rather a delicate problem before the under-secretary for war in asking, in the house, whether count ergon von bassewitz and his brother, count adalbert von bassewitz, were brought to england as prisoners of war; whether either was formerly on the staff of the germany embassy in london, and well known in london society; whether one, and which, of the two brothers was recently set at liberty, and is now at large in london; whether he was released on any and what conditions; and for what reason this german officer, possessing exceptional opportunities for obtaining information likely to be useful to the enemy, is allowed freedom in england at the present time. the man-in-the-street who has, in the past, laughed at the very idea of spies--and quite justly, because he has been so cleverly misled and bamboozled by official assurances--has now begun to see that they do exist. he has read of a hundred cases abroad where spies have formed a vanguard of the invading german armies, and how no fewer than fifty-seven german spies were arrested and _convicted_ in switzerland during the month of august, therefore he cannot disguise from himself that the same dastardly vanguard is already here among us. then he at once asks, and very naturally too, why do the authorities officially protect them? what pro-german influence in high quarters can be at work to connive at our undoing? it is that which is to-day undermining public confidence. compare our own methods with those of methodical matter-of-fact germany? are we methodical; are we thorough? the man-in-the-street who daily reads his newspaper--if he pauses or reflects--sees quite plainly that instead of facing the alien peril, those in authority prefer to allow us to sit upon the edge of the volcano, and have, indeed, already actually prepared public opinion to accept a disclaimer of responsibility if disaster happens. the whole situation is truly appalling. little wonder is it that, because i should have dared to lay bare the canker in britain's heart, i should be written to by despairing hundreds who have lost all confidence in certain of our rulers. some of these letters the reader may find of interest. from one, written by a well-known gentleman living in devonshire, i take the following, which arouses a new reflection. he says: "i may be wrong, but one important point seems to have been overlooked, viz. the daily publication of somewhat cryptic messages and advertisements appearing in the personal columns of the british press. for instance: "'m.--darling. meet as arranged. letter perfect. should i also write? to "the day, and kismet."--vilpar.' "such a message may be, as doubtless it is, perfectly innocent; but what is to prevent spies in our midst utilising this method of communicating information to the enemy. the leading british newspapers are received in germany, and even the enclosed pseudo-medical advertisement may be the message of a traitor. it seems to me that the advertisement columns of our press constitute the safest medium for the transmission of information. "pray do not think i am suggesting that the british press would willingly lend their papers to such an infernal use, but unless they are exercising the strictest precautions the loophole is there. i am somewhat impressed by the number of refugees to be found in these parts--ilfracombe, combe martin, lynton, etc., coast towns and villages of perhaps minor strategic importance, but situated on the bristol channel and facing important towns like swansea, cardiff, etc. i notice particularly that their daily walks abroad are usually taken along the coastal roads. i've never met them inland. apologising for the length of this letter and trusting that your splendid efforts will in due time receive their well-deserved reward." here my correspondent has certainly touched upon a point which should be investigated. we know that secret information is daily sent from great britain to berlin, and we also know some of the many methods adopted. indeed, i have before me, as i write, a spy's letter sent from watford to amsterdam, to be collected by a german agent and reforwarded to berlin. it is written upon a column of a london daily newspaper, various letters of which are ticked in red ink in several ways, some being underlined, some crossed, some dotted underneath--a very ingenious code indeed--but one which has, happily, been decoded by an expert. this newspaper, after the message had been written upon it, had been placed in a newspaper-wrapper and addressed to an english name in amsterdam. this is but one of the methods. another is the use of invisible ink with which spies write their messages upon the pages of newspapers and magazines. a third is, no doubt, the publication of cryptic advertisements, as suggested by my correspondent. how the government have adopted mr. le queux's suggestion "_german spies in england," by william le queux. published february th, ._ the first step to stop the activity of spies should be the absolute closing of the sea routes from these shores to all persons, excepting those who are vouched for by the british foreign office. assume that the spy is here; how are we to prevent him getting out? by closing the sea routes to all who could not produce to our foreign office absolutely satisfactory guarantees of their _bona fides_. the ordinary passport system is not sufficient; the foreign office should demand, and see that it gets, not only a photograph, but a very clear explanation of the business of every person who seeks to travel from england to the continent, backed by unimpeachable references from responsible british individuals, banks, or firms. in every single case of application for a passport it should be personal, and the most stringent inquiries should be made. i see no other means of putting an end to a danger which, whatever the official apologists may say, is still acute, and shows no signs of diminishing. under the best of conditions some leakage may take place. but our business is to see, by every means we can adopt, that the leakage is reduced to the smallest possible proportions. _"daily mail," march th, ._ holiday-makers or business men who wish to travel to holland now find that their preliminary arrangements include much more than the purchase of a rail and steamship ticket. new regulations, which came into force on monday, necessitate not only a passport, but a special permit to travel from the home office. application for this permit must be made in person three clear days before sailing. passport, photograph, and certificate of registration must be produced and the names and addresses of two british subjects furnished as references. the home office erected a special building for this department, which was opened on thursday last, the first day on which application could be made. before lunch over applications had been received. by four o'clock, the official hour for closing, nearly persons had been attended to, and the crowd was even then so great that the doors had to be closed to prevent any more entering. intending travellers included british, french, and dutch business men, but quite a large number of belgian refugees attended for permits to return to their country. the tilbury route was the only one open to them. not all the applications were granted. it is necessary to furnish reasonable and satisfactory evidence as to the object of the journey, and some of the applicants were unable to do this. of other means of communication, namely, night-signalling--of which i have given my own personal experience in the previous chapter--my correspondents send me many examples. the same code-signal as a prefix--the letters "s.m."--are being seen at points as far distant as herne bay and alnwick, on both the yorkshire and fifeshire coasts, above sidmouth and at ilfracombe. dozens of reports of night-signalling lie before me--not mere statements of fancied lights, but facts vouched for by three and four reliable witnesses. yet, in face of it all, the authorities pooh-pooh it, and in some counties we have been treated to the ludicrous spectacle of the civil and military authorities falling at loggerheads over it! belgian refugees writing to me have, in more than one instance, reported highly interesting facts. in one case an ex-detective of the antwerp police, now a refugee in england, has identified a well-known german spy who was in antwerp before the germans entered there, and who came to england in the guise of a refugee! this individual is now in an important town in essex, while my informant is living in the same town. surely such a case is one for searching inquiry, and the more so because the suspect poses as an engineer, and is in the employ of a firm of engineers who do not suspect the truth. but before whom is my friend, the belgian ex-detective, to place his information? true, he might perhaps lay the information before the chief constable of the county of essex, but in his letter to me he asks, and quite naturally, is it worth while? if the intelligence department of the war office--that department so belauded in the house of commons by mr. mckenna on march rd--refuses to investigate the case of signalling in surrey, cited in the last chapter, and vouched for by the officers themselves, then what hope is there that they would listen to the report of a mere refugee--even though he be an ex-detective? as i turn over report after report before me i see another which seems highly suspicious. a hard-up german doctor--his name, his address, and many facts are given--living at a kent coast town, where he was a panel doctor, suddenly, on the outbreak of war, removes to another kent coast town not far from dover, takes a large house with grounds high up overlooking the sea, and retires from practice. my informant says he has written to the home office about it, but as usual no notice has been taken of his letter. another correspondent, a well-known shipowner, writing me from one of our seaports in the north, asks why the german ex-consul should be allowed to remain in that city and do shipping business ostensibly with rotterdam? by being allowed his freedom he can obtain full information as to what is in progress at this very important scotch port, and, knowing as we do that every german consul is bound to send secret information to berlin at stated intervals, it requires but little stretch of one's imagination to think what happens. but the matter has already been reported to the police and found to be, as elsewhere, nobody's business. phew! one perspires to think of it! take another example--that of a german hotel-keeper who, living on the coast north of the firth of forth, was proved to have tapped the coast-guard telephone, and yet he was allowed to go free! a lady, well known in london society, writes to me requesting me to assist her, and says: "i have been working for five months to get a very suspicious case looked into, and all the satisfaction i get is that 'the party is being watched.' i _know_ to what extent this same person has been working against my country and i should much appreciate an interview with you. i could tell you very much that would be of great benefit to the country, but it of course falls on deaf ears--officially." another correspondent asks why germans, naturalised or unnaturalised, are allowed to live in the vicinity of herne bay when none are allowed either at westgate or margate. in this connection it is curious that it is from herne bay the mysterious night-signals already described first appear, and are then transmitted to various parts of the country. in another letter the grave danger of allowing foreign servants to be employed at various hotels at plymouth is pointed out, and it is asked whether certain houses in that city are not hot-beds of german intrigue. now with regard to this aspect of affairs mr. mckenna, answering mr. fell in parliament on march th, said he had no power to impose conditions on the employment of waiters, british or alien, and so the suggested notice outside hotels employing aliens was not accepted. from tunbridge wells two serious cases of suspicion are reported, and near tenterden, in kent, there undoubtedly lives one of our "friends" the night-signallers, while in a certain village in sussex the husband of the sub-postmistress is a german, whose father, a tradesman in a neighbouring town, i hear, often freely ventilates his patriotism to his fatherland. that the "pirate" submarines are receiving petrol in secret is an undoubted fact. at swansea recently a vessel bound for havre was found to have taken on board as part of her stores gallons of petrol. she was not a motor-boat, and the customs authorities were very properly suspicious, but the captain insisted that the petrol was wanted as stores, and that there were no means by which we could prevent that petrol going. where did it go to? there were boats no doubt in the neighbourhood which wanted petrol. _they were enemy submarines!_ of isolated reports of espionage, and of the work of germany's secret agents, dozens lie before me, many of which certainly call for strictest investigation. but who will do this work if the "authorities" so steadily refuse, in order to bamboozle the public, to perform their duty? some of these reports are accompanied by maps and plans. one is from a well-known solicitor, who is trustee for an estate in essex where, adjoining, several men a month or so ago purchased a small holding consisting of a homestead and a single acre of land. they asserted that they had come from canada, and having dug up the single acre in question for the purpose of growing potatoes, as they say, they are now living together, their movements being highly suspicious. on more than one occasion mysterious explosions have been heard within the house--which is a lonely one, and a long way from any other habitation. the wife of a well-known scotch earl who has been diligent in making various inquiries into suspicious cases in scotland, and has endeavoured to stir up the authorities to confirm the result of her observations, has written to me in despair. she has done her best, alas! without avail. and again, in yet another case, the widow of an english earl, whose name is as a household word, has written to me reporting various matters which have come to her notice and deploring that no heed has been taken of her statements by the supine "powers-that-be." beside this pile of grave reports upon my table, i have opened a big file of reports of cases of espionage which reached me during the year . in the light of events to-day they are, indeed, astounding. here is one, the name and address of my correspondent i do not here print, but it is at the disposal of the authorities. he says: "staying recently at north queensferry i made the acquaintance of a young german, who was there, he informed me, for quiet and health reasons. he was a man of rather taciturn and what i put down to eccentric disposition, for he spoke very little, and, from the time he went away in the morning early, he never put in an appearance until dusk. one day, as was my wont, i was sitting in the front garden when i noticed a fair-sized red morocco notebook lying on the grass. i picked it up, and on my opening it up, what was my surprise and amazement to find that it was full to overflowing with sketches and multitudinous information regarding the firth of forth. all the small bays, buoys, etc., together with depth of water at the various harbour entrances at high and low tide, were admirably set out. i also found, neatly folded up, a letter addressed to my friend which had contained an enclosure of money from the german government. i hesitated no longer, for i sent notebook, etc., to the authorities at london. three days after i had sent the letter off, a stranger called to see my friend the german. they both left together, and i have never heard any more about it since. the german's trunk still lies at north queensferry awaiting its owner's return." the following reached me on march th: "i note what you mention regarding weybourne in norfolk, and would trespass on your time to relate an occurrence which took place about the autumn of , when i was living at overstrand. i had walked over to weybourne and was about to return by train when two men, dressed more or less as tramps, entered the station to take their tickets; they were followed by a tall, handsome man, unmistakably a german officer, who spoke to them, looked at their tickets and walked straight up the platform. the men sat down on a bench to wait for the train, and i took a seat near them with a view to overhearing their conversation. it appeared to be in german dialect and little intelligible. the officer, meanwhile, who had reached the end of the platform, turned round and, quickening his steps, came and placed himself directly in front of us: the men at once were silent, and the officer remained where he was, casting many scowls in my direction. on the following day i met him, on this occasion alone, on the pathway leading from the 'garden of sleep' to overstrand. he recognised me at once, scowled once again, and passed on to the overstrand hotel. i mentioned the subject to a gentleman resident in overstrand, who asked me to write an account of the matter to be placed before the war office, but i believe that my friend forgot to forward the paper. a retired officer in cromer informed me that the german officer in question was well known as the head of the german spies in the neighbourhood. some questions happened to be asked in the house of commons that very week as to the existence of spies in norfolk. the home secretary, the present lord gladstone, i think, replied to these in the manner which might be expected of him. "from the first i recognised the fact that the men were spies. i imagined that they had been surveying, at weybourne, but in the light of recent events i think a _gun emplacement_ or a _petrol store_ may have been their 'objective.' the two men were rather undersized, badly dressed, and more or less covered with mud, probably mechanics. one i remember had extraordinary teeth, about the size of the thickness of one's little finger. the officer, as i have said, was a fine man, broad and well-proportioned, from thirty to forty years of age. oddly enough i thought that i recognised him recently on a cinematograph film depicting the staff of the german emperor. i left the neighbourhood not long after, otherwise i should certainly have made further investigations, convinced as i was of the shady nature of these individuals. the officer, i am sure, recognised that i was a detective." another report is from a steward on a liner, who writes: "at the queen's hotel, at leith, one day i overheard these words from a man speaking in german. 'what's this! your highness's servants--when did they come north?' now one of these i have met several times. i have travelled with him from antwerp, and i was in his company between leith and london. he was of a cheerful disposition, and played the violin well, but would not allow any one to go into his cabin, not even the steward! one day, while he was playing to the passengers on the promenade deck, and the sailors were washing down the poop deck, i had to go into his berth to shut his port-hole; to my surprise i found that he had been working out the draft of a plan, and was marking in the coast defence stations, and all the information he had obtained from the ship's officers and passengers. there were also various other drawings of the forth and other bridges, and plans of the sea coast from the firth of forth to yarmouth, while in his box were all kinds of mathematical instruments, together with some envelopes addressed to count von x. [the name is given] of bremen. he told me that he was going to london for a year's engagement at a music hall, yet, strangely enough, two weeks later i found this same german on the carron company's steamer _avon_ bound for grangemouth. for some time i lost all trace of him, but last october i met the same german at the new dock at kirkcaldy, posing as a photographer. at that time the name on his bag was h. shindler. we had a drink together, but, on my asking why he had changed his profession, he laughed mysteriously, and admitted that he had made a long tour of england and wales, taking many interesting pictures. each time i met him he had considerably altered his appearance, and the last i saw of him was when i saw him into the train on his way to dunfermline." yet another i pick out at haphazard. it is from an actor whose name is well known, and is, as are all the others, at the disposal of any official inquirers. he writes to me: "i was engaged to play in the 'panto' of 'sinbad the sailor.' we were to rehearse and play a week at the 'prince's theatre,' llandudno. i was in the habit of visiting a certain barber's shop, and was always attended to by a german assistant. he seemed a man of about forty years of age, and his name was k---- [the actual name is given]. on the first saturday of my sojourn in the place i called at the shop, along with another member of our company. when about to leave, my 'pal' and myself were rather startled by the 'attendant' inviting the two of us to come for a drive on the following day, sunday. naturally we accepted the invitation, at the same time thinking it rather strange that a man earning say _s._ a week could afford such a luxury as a drive. at noon, next day, my friend and i turned up at the rendezvous, and sure enough our friend was there with a _landau_ and pair. this was certainly doing the 'big thing,' but more was to follow. "we drove to conway, stabled there, and then went for a stroll round the picturesque old castle. our friend then proposed that we adjourn for something to eat, so, as our appetites were a bit keen by this time, we went to the 'white hart hotel.' here another surprise awaited us, for dinner was all set and ready. and what a dinner! my 'pal' and i had visions of a huge bill, but on our friend squaring the amount we sat in open-mouthed surprise. "by this time we were anxious to know a little about our 'host,' but not until he had had a few brandy-and-sodas did he tell us much. he then said he had some estates in germany, and ultimately confessed (in strict confidence) that he held an important government appointment. after a few hours in conway we drove back to llandudno, and as our friend of the 'soap and brush' was in a hilarious mood, nothing would do but that we drive to his rooms. and what rooms! fit for a prince! we had a splendid supper followed by wine and cigars. he then proceeded to show my friend and me a great number of photographs (all taken by himself, he explained) of all the coast mountains and roads for many miles around llandudno. it was not till we mentioned the affair to some gentlemen in llandudno that we were informed that our barber friend was, in all probability, a spy in the pay of the german government!" here is another, from a correspondent at glasgow: "down by the shipping, along the clydeside, are many barbers' shops, etc., owned by foreigners, and in one of these i think i have spotted an individual whose movements and behaviour entitle me to regard him as a spy. the party in question is a german of middle age, a man of remarkably refined appearance--in fact, not the class of man that one would ordinarily associate with a barber's shop. one has but to engage him in conversation to discover that he is no stupid foreigner, but a man very much up to date as regards our methods and things happening in this country. our language, too, he speaks like a native, and, were it not for his markedly teutonic features, he might pass for one of ourselves. "what excited my suspicions first regarding this personage was the fact that he was continually quizzing and putting to me questions regarding my employment of a decidedly delicate nature, and conversing freely on subjects about which i thought few people knew anything. i also noticed, when in his shop, that he was most lavish in his remarks to customers, especially to young engineers and draughtsmen who came to him from the neighbouring shipbuilding yards, leading them on to talk about matters concerning the navy and shipbuilding; their work in the various engineering shops and drawing offices; and the time likely to be taken to complete this or that gunboat, etc. indeed, with some of these young engineers and draughtsmen i have not failed to notice that he is particularly 'chummy,' and i also know, for a fact, that on several occasions he has been 'up town' with them, visiting music halls and theatres, and that they have spent many evenings together. on these occasions no doubt, under the influence of liquor, many confidences will have been exchanged, and many 'secrets' regarding work and methods indiscreetly revealed. "but so much for the above. on surmise alone my conclusions regarding this man might have been entirely wrong, but for the fact that i, one evening, met with a former employee of his, also a german, in another barber's shop in the city. this youngster, evidently nursing a grievance against his late employer for something or other, was quick to unburden himself to me regarding him, and gave me the following particulars. he said that his late master was not what he appeared to be, and that his barbering was all a blind to cover something else; in fact (and this he hinted pretty broadly) that his presence over here in this country was for no good. he further said that he was still a member of the german army (although in appearance he looks to be long past military service), and that regularly money was sent to him from berlin; that he was an agent for the bringing in to this country of crowds of young germans, male and female, who came over here to learn our language and study our methods; that his shop was the rendezvous for certain members of his own nationality, who met there periodically at night for some secret purpose which he had never been able to fathom; that he was often away from the shop for weeks at a time, no one knew where, the business in his absence then being looked after by a brother. in addition to the above, i may say that the walls of his shop are positively crowded with pictures of such celebrities as lord roberts, lord kitchener, general french, etc., etc., the face of the kaiser being a noticeable absentee, doubtless on purpose. he likes you, too, to believe in his affection for this country, which he openly parades, although i am told that in private he sneers at us, at our soldiers and people. from the above, i think i have established my case against this wily teuton, who, while masquerading as a barber, is yet all the time here for a totally different purpose, _i.e._ to spy upon us." how a german secret agent altered a british military message is told by another of my correspondents, who says: "the time of the incident was during the visit of the kaiser to the earl of lonsdale at lowther castle. i was employed at an hotel in keswick, and my duties were to look after a billiard-room. among my customers was a foreign gentleman, who was always rather inquisitive if any military matter was under discussion, and our many chats brought us on very friendly terms. well, about the last week of the emperor's visit, the earl of lonsdale arranged a drive for the emperor and the house-party for the purpose of letting them see the english lake district. the route lay via patterdale, windermere, thirlmere, then on to keswick, from there by train to penrith, and again drive the three or four miles back to lowther castle. "it must be remembered that, the emperor's visit being a private one, military displays would be out of place, but on the day of the above-mentioned drive a telegram was received from the officer in command of the penrith volunteers asking if permission could be granted for the volunteers to mount a guard of honour at the station on the arrival of the emperor's train at penrith. now, as i was going up home to the 'forge' i met my father coming to keswick, and as he seemed out of wind, i undertook to take his message, which was the reply to the above 'wire.' the text of the answer only contained two words, which were to the point: 'certainly not,' and signed by the commanding officer at headquarters. when i got within half a mile of keswick i was overtaken by my foreign acquaintance, who was on a bicycle, and on his asking me why i was hurrying, i told him i had a rather urgent 'wire' to send. he kindly undertook to have it despatched, as he was passing the post office, and i unsuspectingly consented. on the arrival of the royal train at penrith you may judge the surprise and disgust of the officers, some of whom had in private travelled in the royal train to see the volunteers lining the station approach! inquiries were made--the post office authorities produced the telegram, as handed in, with the word 'not' carefully erased, making the message mean the opposite. i never from that day saw my foreign friend again, but many times have wondered was it one of the kaiser's wishes to see if his agents could play a trick on the volunteers for his own eyes to see!" here is a curious story of a german commercial spy, the writer of which gives me his _bona fides_. he writes: "in a glucose factory where i worked, the head of the firm had a bookkeeper who went wrong. if that bookkeeper had never gone wrong, we should never have known of the german who worked hard in england for a whole year for nothing. one day the head--i'll call him mr. brown for short--received a letter from a young german saying that he would like to represent the glucose manufacturer among the merchants of this country, whose trade, he said, he could secure. he said he would be willing to postpone the consideration of salary pending the result of his services. well, brown turned the german over to the bookkeeper, who found that the german had splendid credentials from his own country. so brown told the bookkeeper to engage the german, and pay him £ a month to start. at the end of six months the german's service had proved so satisfactory that brown told his bookkeeper to pay the german £ a month till further notice; and three months later the salary was again raised by brown to £ . along about the time the german's year was up, he suddenly disappeared. that is, he failed one morning to put in an appearance at the office at the usual time. brown noticed that morning that his bookkeeper, who was also cashier, was extremely absent-minded and looked altogether unhappy. 'what's the matter with you?' said brown, addressing the bookkeeper. 'this is the matter,' was the reply, and thereupon the bookkeeping cashier laid before his employer a cheque for hundreds of pounds. it was made payable to the order of the absent german, and was signed with the personal signature of the bookkeeper. 'what's this mean?' asked brown. 'it means,' said the wild-eyed bookkeeper, 'that i have never paid that german his salary--not one penny in all the time he has been here. he never asked for money, always had plenty, so i pocketed from month to month the money due to him. but it's killing me. i didn't need to do it. i just couldn't resist the temptation. i had money of my own, and knew i could pay him any time. yesterday when you said that i must again raise his salary i realised for the first time the enormity of the thing i was doing. i resolved to tell the german the whole story this morning, and give him his money in full. this is the cheque for the money i have stolen from him. i have money in the bank to meet it. i want him to have it, i don't care what follows.' brown, gazing spellbound at his clerk, said: 'but i don't understand. did the german never ask for his salary?' 'no,' replied the bookkeeper. 'he always had money; he seemed only to want the situation--to be connected with this house; he has some mysterious influence over the german trade in this country.' a weather-beaten man in a sea-jacket an hour or two later unceremoniously shuffled into the office. he handed brown a note, who read it aloud: 'i am aboard ship by this time,' the letter said, 'bound for my country. receive my sincere regrets at the abrupt termination of our pleasant relations. through connection with your firm, i have found out the secret of glucose-making, and am going back to impart it to the firm which i belong to in germany. you owe me nothing." these few cases i print here because i think it but right to show that both before the war, and since, the public have not been so utterly blinded to the truth as the authorities had hoped. many of the other cases before me are of such a character that i do not propose to reveal them to the public, still hoping against hope that proper inquiry may be instituted by a reliable board formed to deal with the whole matter. and, for obvious reasons, premature mention of them might defeat the ends of justice by warning the spies that their "game" is known. i here maintain that there is a peril--a very grave and imminent peril--in attempting to further delude the public, and, by so doing, further influence public opinion. the seed of distrust in the government has, alas! been sown in the public mind, and each day, as the alien question is evaded, it takes a firmer and firmer root. chapter viii the peril of invasion there are few questions upon which experts differ more profoundly than that of a possible invasion of this country by germans. here, in england, opinion may be roughly divided into two schools. it is understood generally that the naval authorities assert that the position of our fleet is such that even a raid by say ten thousand men, resolved to do us the greatest possible damage and cause the maximum of alarm even if the penalty be annihilation, is out of the question. on the other hand, the military authorities hold the view--a view expressed to me by the late lord roberts--that it would be quite possible for the germans to land a force in great britain which would do an enormous amount of damage, physically and morally, before it was finally rounded up and destroyed by the overwhelming numbers of troops we could fling against it. what we think of the matter, however, is of less importance than what the enemy thinks, and it is beyond question that, at any rate until quite recently, the german war staff regarded the invasion of england as perfectly practicable, and had made elaborate plans for carrying out their project. when writing my forecast "the invasion of england," in , i received the greatest advice and kind assistance from the late lord roberts, who spent many hours with me, and who personally revised and elaborated the german plan of campaign which i had supposed. without his assistance the book would never have been written. i am aware of the strong views he held on the subject, and how indefatigable he was in endeavouring to bring the grave peril of invasion home to an apathetic nation. poor "bobs"! the public laughed at him and said: "yes, of course. he is getting so old!" old! when i came home from the last balkan war i brought him some souvenirs from the battle-fields of macedonia, and he sent me a telegram to meet him at a.m. at a quiet west end hotel--where he was in the habit of staying. i arrived at that hour and he grasped my hand, welcomed me back from many months of a winter campaign with the servian headquarters staff, and, erect and smiling, said: "now, let's talk. i've already done my correspondence and had my breakfast. i was up at half-past five,"--when i had been snoring! roberts was a soldier of the old school. he knew our national weakness, and he knew our stubborn stone-wall resistance. after the outbreak of war he told me that he would deplore racing, football, and cricket--our national sports--while we were at death-grips with germany, because, as he put it, if we race and play games, the people will not take this world-war seriously. then he turned in his chair in my room, and, looking me straight in the face, said: "what did i tell you, le queux, when you were forecasting 'the invasion'--that the british nation will not be awakened by us--but only by a war upon them. they are at last awakened. i will never seek to recall the past, but my duty is to do my best for my king and my country." and so he died--cut off at a moment when he was claiming old friendship of those from india whom he knew so well. the night before he left england to go upon the journey to the front which proved fatal, he wrote me a letter--which i still preserve--deploring the atrocities which the germans had committed in belgium. ever since the war broke out we have heard of great concentration of troops, and ships intended to carry them, at wilhelmshaven and cuxhaven, a strong indication that something in the nature of a raid was in contemplation. it is quite possible that opinion, both in germany and in this country, has been very profoundly modified by the fate which befell the last baby-killing expedition launched against our eastern coasts, which came to grief through the vigilance of admiral beatty. the terrible mauling sustained by the german squadron, the loss of the _blucher_ and the battering of the _seydlitz_ and _derfflinger_, may have done a good deal to drive home into the german mind the conviction that in the face of an unbeaten--and to germany unbeatable--battle-fleet, the invasion of england would be, at the very best, an undertaking of the most hazardous nature which would be foredoomed to failure and in which the penalty would be annihilation. perhaps, however, the enemy are only waiting. we know from german writings that the plans for the invasion of england have usually postulated that our fleet shall be, for the time being, absent from the point of danger, probably out of home waters altogether, and that the attack would be sprung upon us as a surprise. we do not know, and we do not seek to know, the exact position of the british fleet, but we can be perfectly certain that, with the invention of wireless, the moment at which the germans might have sprung a surprise upon us has gone for ever. there is good reason for believing that the germans intended to strike at us without any formal declaration of war, and i have been informed, on good authority, that before war broke out, certain dispositions had actually been made which were brought to naught only by a singularly bold and daring manoeuvre on the part of our naval authorities. no doubt, in the course of time, this incident, with many others of a similar nature, will be made public. i can only say at present that when the startling truth becomes known, further evidence will be forthcoming that germany deliberately planned the war, and was ready to strike long before war was declared. people who say that an invasion of our shores is impossible usually do so with the reservation, expressed or implied, that the effort would be unsuccessful--that is, that it could not succeed so far as to compel britain to make peace. but, even if the germans believe this as firmly as we do, it by no means follows that they may not make the attempt. it is a part of the germans' theory and practice to seek, by every possible means, to create a panic, to do the utmost moral and material damage by the most inhuman and revolting means, and it is more than likely that they would hold the loss of even fifty or sixty thousand men as cheap indeed, if, before they were destroyed, they could, if only for a few days, vent german wrath and hatred on british towns and on british people. to say they could not do this would be exceedingly foolish. few people would be daring enough to say that it would be impossible for the germans, aided undoubtedly by spies on shore, to land suddenly in the neighbourhood of one of the big east coast towns a force strong enough to overpower, for the moment, the local defences, and establish itself--if only for a few days--in a position where it could lay waste with fire and sword a very considerable section of country. and we must never forget that, if ever the germans get the chance, their atrocious treatment of the british population will be a thousand times worse than anything they have done in france and belgium. that fact ought to sink deeply into the public mind. a german expedition into this country would be undertaken with the one definite object of striking terror and producing a panic which would force our government to sue for peace. to secure that end, the germans would spare neither young nor old--every man, woman, and child within their power would be slaughtered without mercy, and without regard for age or sex. we have heard something, though not all, of the infamies perpetrated by german troops upon the helpless belgians even before the world had realised how much belgium had done to foil their plans. and we must not overlook the fact that certain german officers--enjoying the services of valets and other luxuries at donington hall, fitted up by us at a cost of £ , --were those who ordered the wholesale massacre of women and children. we relieve the poor belgian refugees, and caress their murderers. if the flood-gates of german hatred were opened upon us, what measure would the enemy mete out to us who, as they now bitterly realise, have stood between the kaiser and his megalomaniac dreams? i do not think we need be in any doubt as to what the german answer to that question would be! recent events have made it vividly apparent that the germans have already reached a pitch of desperation in which they are willing to try any and every scheme which, at whatever cost to themselves, offered a prospect of injuring their enemies. they feel the steel net slowly, but very surely, tightening around them; like caged wild beasts they are flinging themselves frantically at the bars, now here, now there, in mad paroxysms of rage. their wonderful military machine, if it has not absolutely broken down, is at any rate badly out of gear, though there is a huge strength still left in it. their vaunted fleet skulks behind fortifications, and whenever it ventures to poke its head outside is hit promptly and hit hard. their boasted zeppelins, which were to lay ever so many "eggs" on london, have certainly, up to the time of writing, failed utterly. we frequently hear the man-in-the-street jeer at the zeppelin peril, and declare that it is only a "bogey" raised to frighten us. to a certain extent i think it is, but the fact that zeppelins have not yet appeared over london is, surely, no reason why they should not come and commit havoc and cause panic as the vanguard of the raid which may be intended upon us. there is much in our apathy which is more than foolish--it is criminal. had the country, ten years ago, listened to the warnings of lord roberts and others, instead of being immersed in their own pleasure-seeking and money-grubbing, we should have had no war. the public, who are happily to-day filled with a spirit of patriotism because they have learnt wisdom by experience, now realise their error. they see how utterly foolish they were to jeer at my warnings in the _daily mail_; and by singing in the music halls "are we down-'earted--no!" they have gallantly admitted it--as every britisher admits where he is wrong--and have come forward to stem the tide of barbarians who threaten us. as one who has done all that mortal man can do to try to bring home to his country a sense of its own danger, and who, by the insidious action of "those in power," narrowly escaped financial ruin for _daring_ to be a patriot, i cast the past aside and rejoice in the fine spirit of the younger generation of men, actuated by the fact that they are still britons. but, after this war, there will be men--men whose names are to-day as household words--who must be indicted before the nation for leading us into the trap which germany so cunningly prepared for us. those are men who knew, by the kaiser's declaration in , what was intended, and while posing as british statesmen--save the mark!--lied to the public, and told them that germany was our best friend, and that war would never be declared--"not in our time." there will be a day, ere long, when the pro-german section of what britons foolishly call their "rulers"--certain members of that administration who are now struggling to atone for their past follies in being misled by the cunning of the enemy--will be arraigned and swept out of the public ken, as they deserve to be. the blood of a million mothers of sons in great britain boils at thoughts of the ghastly truth, and the wholesale sacrifice of their dear ones, because the diplomacy of great britain, with all its tinsel, its paraphernalia of attachés, secretaries (first, second, and third), its entertainments, its fine "residences," its whisperings and jugglings, and its "conversations," was quite incapable of thwarting the german plot. by our own short-sightedness we have been led into this conflict, in which the very lives of our dear ones and ourselves are at stake. yet, to-day, we in england have not fully realised that we are at war. illustrated papers publish fashion numbers, and the butterflies of the fair sex rush to adorn themselves in the latest _mode_ from paris--the capital of a threatened nation! stroll at any hour in any street in london, or any of our big cities. does anything remind the thoughtful man that we are at war? no. our theatres, music halls, and picture palaces are full. our restaurants are crowded, our night-clubs drive a thriving trade--and nobody cares for to-morrow. why? read the daily newspapers, and learn the lesson of how the public are being daily deluded by false assertions that all is well, and that we have great imperial germany--the country which has, for twenty years, plotted against us--in the hollow of our hand. the public are not told the real truth, and there lies the grave scandal which must be apparent to every person in the country. but, i ask, will the malevolent influence which is protecting the alien enemy among us, and refusing to allow inquiry into spying, _ever permit the truth to be told_? let the reader pause, and think. despite the cast-iron censorship, and the most docile press the world has ever seen, the german people must, on the other hand, to-day be suspecting the truth. germans may be braggarts, but they are not fools, and it is safe to say that the hysterical spasms of hatred of great britain--by which the entire nation seems to be convulsed--have their origin in an ever-growing conviction of failure and a very accurate perception of where that failure lies. in this frame of mind they may venture on anything, and it is for this reason that i believe they may yet, in spite of all that has happened, attempt a desperate raid on these shores. what are we doing to meet that peril? chapter ix the peril of apathy there is an apathy towards any peril of invasion that is astounding. of our military measures, pure and simple, i shall say nothing except that it is the bounden duty of every briton to place implicit reliance upon lord kitchener and the military authorities and, if necessary, to assist them by every means in his power. we can do no good by criticising measures of the true meaning of which we know nothing. there are some other points, however, on which silence would be culpable, and one of these is the amazing lack of any clear instructions as to the duties of the civil population in the event of a german attack. now it is perfectly obvious that one of the first things necessary in the face of a german landing would be to get the civilian population safely beyond the zones threatened by the invaders. it is simply unthinkable that men, women, and children shall be left to the tender mercies of the german hordes. yet, so far as i am able to ascertain, no steps have yet been taken to warn inhabitants at threatened points what they shall do. they have been _advised_, it is true, to continue in their customary avocations and to remain quietly at home. does any sane human being, remembering the treatment of belgian civilians who just did this, expect that such advice will be followed? we can take it for granted that it will not, and i contend that in all districts along the east coast, where, it is practically certain, any attempt at landing must be made, the inhabitants should at once be told, in the clearest and most emphatic manner, just what is required of them, and the best and quickest way to get out of harm's way, leaving as little behind them as possible to be of any use to the invaders, and leaving a clear field of operations for our own troops. a century ago, when the peril of a french invasion overshadowed the land, the most careful arrangements were made for removing the people from the threatened areas, and the destruction of food and fodder. is there any reason why such arrangements should not be taken in hand to-day, and the people made thoroughly familiar with all the conditions necessary for carrying out a swift and systematic evacuation? i am aware, of course, that already certain instructions have been issued to lord-lieutenants of the various counties in what may be called the zone of possible invasion. but i contend that the public at large should be told plainly what is expected of them. it is not enough to say that when the moment of danger comes they should blindly obey the local policeman. in the event of a withdrawal from any part of the coast-line becoming necessary, it ought not to be possible that the inhabitants should be taken by surprise; their course ought to be mapped out for them quite clearly, and in advance, so that all will know just what they have to do to get away with the minimum of delay and without impeding the movements of our defensive forces. whatever we may say or do, the appearance off the british coast of a raiding german force would be the signal for a rush inland, and there is every reason to take steps for ensuring that that rush shall be orderly and controlled, and in no sense a blind and panic flight which would be alike unnecessary and disastrous. it may well be, and it is to be hoped, that the danger will never come. that does not absolve us from the necessity of being ready to meet it. war is an affair of surprises, and germany has sprung many surprises upon the world since last august. the refusal of the war office authorities to extend any sympathetic consideration towards the new civilian corps, which are striving, despite official discouragement, to fit themselves for the duty of home defence in case the necessity should arise, is another instance of the lack of imagination and insight which has shown itself in so many ways during our conduct of the campaign. these corps now number well over a million men. all that the army council has done for them is to extend to such of them as became affiliated to the central volunteer training association the favour of official "recognition" which will entitle them to rank as combatants in the event of invasion. even that recognition is coupled with a condition that has given the gravest offence and which threatens, indeed, to go far towards paralysing the movement altogether. it is in the highest degree important, as will readily be admitted, that these corps should not interfere with recruiting for the regular army. that the volunteers themselves fully recognise. but to secure this non-interference the government have made it a condition of recognition that any man under military age joining a corps shall sign a declaration that he will enlist in the regular army when called upon unless he can show some good and sufficient reason why he should not do so. here we have the cause of all the trouble. the army council, in spite of all entreaties, obstinately refuses to state what constitutes a good and sufficient reason for non-enlistment. one such reason, it is admitted, is work on government contracts. but it is impossible for us to shut our eyes to the fact that there are many thousands of men of military age and good physique who, however much they may desire to do their duty, are fully absolved by family or business reasons from the duty of joining the regular army. many of them have dependents whom it is simply impossible for them to leave to the blank poverty of the official separation allowance; many of them are in businesses which would go to rack and ruin in their absence; many of them are engaged on work which is quite as important to the country as anything they could do in the field, even though they may not be in government employ. to withdraw every able-bodied man from his employment would simply mean that industry would be brought to a standstill, and as this country must, to some extent, act as general provider for the allies, it is, plainly, our duty to keep business going as well as to fight. rightly or wrongly, this particular provision is looked upon as an attempt to introduce a veiled form of compulsion. it has been pointed out that there is no power to compel men to enlist, even if they have signed such a declaration as is required. but the men, very properly, say that britain has gone to war in defence of her plighted word, and that they are not prepared to give their word and then break it. what is the result? many thousands of capable men, fully excused by their own consciences from the duty of joining the regular army, find that, unless they are prepared to take up a false and wholly untenable position, they are _not even allowed to train_ for the defence of their country in such a grave crisis that all other considerations but the safety of the empire must go by the board. i am not writing of the slackers who want to "swank about in uniform" at home when they ought to be doing their duty in the trenches. i refer to the very large body of genuinely patriotic men who, honestly and sincerely, feel that, whatever their personal wishes may be, their duty at the moment is to "keep things going" at home. for men over military age the volunteer corps offer an opportunity of getting ready to strike a blow for england's sake should the time ever come when every man who can shoulder a rifle must take his place in the ranks. and it certainly argues an amazing want of sympathy and foresight that, for the lack of a few words of intelligible definition, a splendid body of men should lose the only chance offered them of getting a measure of military education which in time to come may be of priceless value. no one complains that the army council does not immediately rush to arm and equip the volunteers. undoubtedly, there is still much to be done in the way of equipping the regular troops and accumulating the vast reserves that will be required when the great forward move begins. much could be done even now, however, to encourage the volunteers to persevere with their training. it should not be beyond the power of the military authorities, in the very near future, to arm and equip such of the corps as have attained a reasonable measure of efficiency in simple military movements, and in shooting with the miniature rifle. at the same time some clear definition ought to be forthcoming of what, in the opinion of the army council, constitutes a valid reason, in the case of a man of military age, for not joining the regular forces. it is certain that when the time comes for the allies to take a strong offensive we shall be sending enormous numbers of trained men out of the country, and, the wastage of war being what it is, huge drafts will be constantly required to keep the fighting units up to full strength. in the meantime large numbers of territorials in this country are chained to the irksome--though very necessary--duty of guarding railways, bridges, and other important points liable to be attacked. there seems to be no good reason why a great deal, if not the whole, of this work should not be undertaken by volunteers. this would free great numbers of territorials for more profitable forms of training and would, undoubtedly, enable us to send far more men out of the country if the necessity should arise. if the volunteers were regarded by those in authority with the proper sympathy which their patriotism deserves, it would be seen that they provide, in effect, a class of troops closely corresponding to the german landsturm, which is already taking its part in the war. it is important to remember that, up to the present time, we have enlisted none but picked men, every one of whom has had to pass a strict medical and physical examination. we have left untouched, in fact, our real reserves. those reserves, apparently scorned by the official authorities, are capable, if they receive adequate encouragement, of providing an immense addition to our fighting forces. no one pretends, of course, that the entire body of volunteers whom we see drilling and route-marching day by day are capable of the exertions involved in a strenuous campaign. but a very large percentage of them are quite capable of being made fit to serve in a home-defence army, and it is a feeble and shortsighted policy to give them the official cold shoulder and nip their enthusiasm in the bud. at the present moment they cost nothing, and they are doing good and useful work. is it expecting too much to suggest that their work should be encouraged with something a little more stimulating than a scarlet arm-band and a form of "recognition" which, upon close analysis, will be found to mean very little indeed? there has been too strong a tendency in the past to praise, in immoderate terms, german methods and german efficiency. but, undoubtedly, there are certain things which we can learn from the enemy, and one of them is the speed and energy with which the germans, at the present moment, are turning to their advantage popular enthusiasm of exactly the same nature as that which has produced the volunteer movement here. it is a popular misconception that in a conscriptionist country every man, without distinction, is swept into the ranks for his allotted term. this is by no means the case. there are many reasons for exemption, and a very large proportion of the german people, when war broke out, had never done any military duty. travellers who have recently returned from germany report that the volunteer movement there has made gigantic strides. men have come forward in thousands, and the government, with german energy and foresight, has pounced upon this splendid volume of material and is rapidly licking it into shape. i don't believe, for one moment, the highly coloured stories which represent germany as being short of rifles, ammunition, and other munitions of war: she has, apparently, more than sufficient to arm her forces in the field and to permit her _to arm her volunteers as well_. whether i am right or wrong, the german government is taking full advantage of the patriotic spirit of its subjects, and there does not appear to be any good reason why our government should not take a leaf out of the enemy's book. if they would do so and help the volunteer movement by sympathy and encouragement, and the assurance that more would be done at the earliest possible moment, we should be in a better condition to meet an invasion than we are to-day, in that we should have an enormous reserve of strength for use in case of emergency. no doubt the military authorities, after the most careful study of the subject, feel convinced that our safety is assured: my point is, that in a matter of such gravity it is impossible to have too great a margin of safety. it is no use blinking the fact that, despite the efforts we have made, and are making, the time may come when the entire manhood of the united kingdom must be called upon to take part in a deadly struggle for national existence. trust-worthy reports state that the germans are actually arming something over four million fresh troops--some of them have already been in action--and if this estimate prove well founded, it is quite clear that the crisis of the world-war is yet to come. i do not think any one will deny that when it does come we shall need every man we can get. closely allied with the subject of invasion are the german methods of "frightfulness" by means of their submarines and aircraft. of the latter, it would seem, we are justified in speaking with absolute contempt. three attempts at air raids on our shores have been made, and though, unhappily, some innocent lives were lost through the enemy's indiscriminate bomb-dropping, the military effect up to the day i pen these lines has been absolutely nil, except to assist us in bringing more recruits to the colours. several of the vast, unwieldy zeppelins, of which the germans boasted so loudly, have been lost either through gunfire or in gales, while we have official authority for saying that our own air-service is so incomparably superior to that of the enemy that the german aviators, like the baby-killers of scarborough, seek safety in retreat directly they are confronted by the british fliers. no doubt the german air-men have their value as scouts and observers, but it is abundantly clear that, as a striking unit, they are hopelessly outclassed. they have done nothing to compare with the daring raids on friedrichshafen and düsseldorf, to say nothing of the magnificent and devastating attack by the british and french air-men on zeebrugge, ostend, and antwerp. the submarine menace stands on another and very different footing, for the simple reason that luck, pure and simple, enters very largely into the operations of the underwater craft. it is quite conceivable that, favoured by fortune and with a conveniently hidden base of supplies--one of which, a petrol-base, i indicated to the authorities on march th--either afloat or ashore, submarines might do an enormous amount of damage on our trade routes. a few dramatic successes may, of course, produce a scare and send insurance and freight rates soaring. moreover, the submarine is exceedingly difficult to attack: it presents a very tiny mark to gunfire, and when it sights a hostile ship capable of attacking it, it can always seek safety by submerging. but, when all is said and done, the number of german submarines, given all the good fortune they could wish, is quite inadequate seriously to threaten the main body of either our commerce or our navy. we are told, and quite properly, nothing of the methods which the admiralty are adopting to deal with german pirates. but it will not have escaped the public attention that the submarines have scored no great success against british warships since the _hawke_ was sunk in the channel. i think we may fairly conclude, therefore, that our admiralty have succeeded in devising new means of defence against the new means of attack. we know that at the time of writing two enemy submarines have been sunk by the navy, and it seems fairly certain that another was rammed and destroyed in the channel by the steamer _thordis_. whatever, therefore, may be our views on the general subject of the war, it seems clear that we can safely treat the submarine menace as the product of the super-heated teutonic imagination. we know of, and can guard against, the risks we run of any armed attack from germany. but there is another peril which will face us when the war is over--a renewal of the commercial invasion which we have seen in progress on a gigantic scale for years past. we know how the british market has, for years, been flooded with shoddy german imitations of british goods to the grave detriment of our home trade. we know, too, how the german worker, over here "to learn the language," has wormed himself into the confidence of the foolish english employer, and has abused that confidence by keeping his real principals--those in germany--fully posted with every scrap of commercial information which might help them to capture british trade. we know, though we do not know the full story, that hundreds of "british" companies have been, in fact, owned, organised, and controlled solely by germans. we know that for years german spies and agents, ostensibly engaged in business here, have plotted our downfall. are we going to permit, when the war is over, a repetition of all this? i confess i look upon this matter with the gravest uneasiness. it is all very well to say that after the war germans will be exceedingly unpopular in every civilised community. that fact is not likely to keep out the german, who is anything but thin-skinned. and, i regret to say, there are only too many british employers who are likely to succumb to the temptation to make use of cheap german labour, regardless of the fact that they will thus be actively helping their country's enemies. germans to-day are carrying on business in this country with a freedom which would startle the public, if it were known. i will mention two instances which have come to my knowledge lately. the first is the case of a company with an english name manufacturing certain electric fittings. up to the time the war broke out, every detail of this company's business was regularly transmitted once a week to germany: copies of every invoice, every bill, every letter, were sent over. though the concern was registered as an "english" company, the proprietorship and control were purely and wholly german. that concern is carrying on business to-day, and in the city of london, protected, no doubt, by its british registration. and the manager is an englishman who, before the war, explained very fully to my informant the entire system on which the business was conducted. the second case is similar, with the exception that the manager is a german, at least in name and origin, who speaks perfect english, and is still, or was very recently, conducting the business. in this case, as in the first, every detail of the business was, before war broke out, regularly reported to the head office of the firm in germany. i wonder whether english firms are being permitted to carry on business in berlin to-day! whether we shall go on after the war in the old haphazard style of rule-of-thumb rests solely with public opinion. and if public opinion will tolerate the employment of german waiters in our hotels in time of war, i see very little likelihood of any effort to stay the german invasion which will, assuredly, follow the declaration of peace. then we shall see again the unscrupulous campaign of commercial and military espionage which has cost us dear in the past, and may cost us still more in the future. our foolish tolerance of the alien peril will be used to facilitate the war of revenge for which our enemy will at once begin to prepare. chapter x the peril of stifling the truth ignorance of the real truth about the war--an ignorance purposely imposed upon us by official red-tape--is, i am convinced, the gravest peril by which our beloved country is faced at the present moment. i say it is the gravest peril for the simple reason that it is the root-peril from which spring all the rest. and this ignorance springs not from official apathy, or from the public wilfully shutting its eyes to disagreeable truths. it is born of the deliberate suppression of unpleasant facts, of the deliberate and ridiculous exaggeration of minor successes. in a word, it is the result of the public having been fooled and bamboozled under the specious plea of safeguarding our military interests. are we children to believe such official fairy-tales? the country is not being told the truth about the war. i don't say, and i do not believe, that it is being fed with false news of bogus victories. but untruths can as easily be conveyed by suppression as by assertion, and no one who has studied the war with any degree of attention can escape the impression that the news presented to us day by day takes on, under official manipulation, a colour very much more favourable than is warranted by the actual facts. day after day the press bureau, of course under official inspiration from higher sources, issues statements in which the good news is unduly emphasised and the bad unduly slurred over. day by day a large section of the press helps on, with every ingenious device of big type and sensational headlines, the official hoodwinking of the public. many pay their nimble halfpennies to be gulled. a naval engagement in which our immensely superior forces crush the weaker squadron of the enemy is blazoned forth as a "magnificent victory" for our fighting men, when, in sober truth, the chief credit lies with the silent and utterly forgotten strategist behind the scenes, whose cool brain worked out the eternal problem of bringing adequate force to bear at exactly the right time and in just exactly the right place. i say no word to depreciate the heroism of our gallant bluejackets. they would fight as coolly when they were going to inevitable death--cradock's men did in the _good hope_ and _monmouth_--as if they were in such overwhelming superiority that the business of destroying the enemy was little more dangerous than the ordinary battle-practice. my whole point is that by the skilful manipulation of facts a wholly false impression is conveyed. there is, in truth, nothing "magnificent" about beating a hopelessly inferior foe, and our sailors would be the last to claim to be heroes under such conditions. it is, of course, the business of our naval authorities to be ready whenever a german squadron shows itself, to hit at once with such crushing superiority of gunfire that there will be no need to hit again at the same object. that can only be achieved by sound strategy, for which we are entitled to claim and give the credit that is due. when our navy has won a decisive success against great odds we may be justified in talking of a "magnificent" victory. to talk of any naval success of the present war as a "magnificent victory" is simply to becloud the real, essential, vital facts, and to assist in deceiving a public which is being studiously kept in the dark. by every means possible, short of downright lying of the german type, the public is being lulled into a false and dangerous belief that all is well--a blind optimism calculated to produce only the worst possible results, a state of mental and physical apathy which has already gone far to rob it of the energy and determination and driving force which are absolutely necessary if we are to emerge in safety from the greatest crisis that has faced our country in its thousand years of stormy history. as an example of what the public are told concerning the enemy, a good illustration is afforded by a well-known sunday paper dated march th. here we find, among other headings in big type, the following: "stake of life and death!" "germany's frantic appeal for greater efforts!" "russia's hammer blow." "german offensive from east prussia ruined: losses , in a month." "german plans foiled: enemy's , , losses." "on reduced rations: german troops getting less to eat." "germany cut off from the seas." "germans cut in two: , prisoners and 'rich booty' taken." "killed to last man: appalling austrian losses." "the verge of famine: bread doles cut down again in germany: frantic efforts to stave off starvation." and yet, in the centre of the paper, next to the leader, we find a huge advertisement headed "the man to be pitied," calling for recruits, appealing to their patriotism, and urging them to "enlist to-day." surely it is the reader who is to be pitied! again, we have wilfully neglected the formation of a healthy public opinion in neutral countries. while germany has, by every underhand means in her power, by wireless lies, and by bribery of certain newspapers in america and in italy, created an opinion hostile to the allies, we have been content to sit by and allow the disgraceful plot against us to proceed. we have, all of us, read the screeches of the pro-german press in the united states, and in italy the scandal of how germany has bribed certain journals has already been publicly exposed. the italians have not been told the truth by us, as they should have been. in italy the greater section of the public are in favour of great britain and are ready to take arms against the hated tedesco, yet on the other hand we have to face the insidious work of germany's secret service and the lure of german gold in a country where, unfortunately, few men, from contadino to deputy, are above suspicion. we must not close our eyes to the truth that in neutral countries germany is working steadily with all her underhand machinery of diplomacy, of the purchase of newspapers, of bribery and corruption and the suborning of men in high places. to what end? to secure the downfall of great britain! i have myself been present at a private view of an amazing cinema film prepared at the kaiser's orders and sent to be exhibited in neutral countries for the purpose of influencing opinion in favour of germany. the pictures have been taken in the fighting zone, both in belgium and in east prussia. so cleverly have they been stage-managed that i here confess, as i sat gazing at them, i actually began to wonder whether the stories told of german barbarities were, after all, true! pictures were shown of a group of british prisoners laughing and smoking, though in the hands of their captors; of the kind german soldiery distributing soup, bread, etc., to the populace in a belgian village; of soldiers helping the belgian peasantry re-arrange their homes; of a german soldier giving some centimes to a little belgian child; of great crowds in berlin singing german national songs in chorus; of the marvellous organisation of the german army; of thousands upon thousands of troops being reviewed by the kaiser, who himself approaches you with a salute and a kindly smile. it was a film that must, when shown in any neutral country--as it is being shown to-day all over the world--create a good impression regarding germany, while people will naturally ask themselves why has not england made a similar attempt, in order to counteract such an insidious and clever illusion in the public mind. such a mischievous propaganda as that being pursued by germany in all neutral countries we cannot to-day afford to overlook. our enemy's intention is first to prepare public opinion, and then to produce dissatisfaction among the allies by sowing discord. and yet from the eyes of the british nation the scales have not yet fallen! in our apathy in this direction i foresee great risk. with these facts in view it certainly behoves us to stir ourselves into activity by endeavouring, ere it becomes too late, to combat germany's growing prestige among other nations in the world, a prestige which is being kept up by a marvellous campaign of barefaced chicanery and fraud. the dangerous delusion is prevalent in great britain that we are past the crisis, that everything is going well and smoothly, perhaps even that the war will soon be over. in some quarters, even in some official quarters, people to-day are talking glibly of peace by the end of july, not openly, of course, but in the places where men congregate and exchange news "under the rose." the general public, taking its cue from the only authorities it understands or has to rely upon, the daily papers, naturally responds, with the eager desire of the human mind to believe what it wishes to be true. hence there has grown up a comfortable sense of security, from which we shall assuredly experience a very rude awakening. for, let there be no mistake about it, the war is very far from ended; indeed, despite our losses, we might almost say it has hardly yet begun. for eight months we have been "getting ready to begin." to-day we see germany in possession of practically the whole of belgium and a large strip of northern france. with the exception of a small patch of alsace, she preserves her own territory absolutely intact. her fortified lines extend from the coast of belgium to the border of switzerland, and behind that seemingly impenetrable barrier she is gathering fresh hosts of men ready for a desperate defence when the moment comes, as come it must, for the launching of the allies' attack. on her eastern frontiers she has at least held back the russian attack, she has freed east prussia, and not a single soldier is to-day on german soil. i ask any one who may be inclined to undue optimism whether the situation is not one to call imperatively for the greatest effort of which the british nation and the british empire are capable? we are assured by the official inspirers of optimism that time is on the side of the allies, and is working steadily against the germans. in a sense, of course, this is true, but it is not the whole truth. i place not the slightest reliance upon the stories industriously circulated from german sources of germany being short of food; all the evidence we can get from neutrals who have just returned from germany condemns them _in toto_. the germans are a methodical and far-seeing people, and no doubt they are very rightly looking ahead and prudently conserving their resources. but that there is any real scarcity of either food or munitions of war there is not a trace of reliable evidence, and those journals, one of which i have quoted, which delight to represent our enemy as being in a state of semi-starvation are doing a very bad service to our country. the germans can unquestionably hold out for a very considerable time yet, and we are simply living in a fool's paradise if we try to persuade ourselves to the contrary. if it were true that germany is really short of food, that our blockade was absolutely effective, and that no further supplies could reach the enemy until the next harvest, it might be true to say that time was on the side of the allies. but supposing, as i believe, that the tales of food shortage have been deliberately spread by the germans themselves with the very definite object of working upon the sympathies of the united states, what position are we in? here, in truth, we come down to a position of the very deepest gravity. it is a position which affects the whole conduct and conclusion of the war, and which cannot fail to exercise the most vital influence over our future. speaking at the lord mayor's banquet last november, mr. asquith said: "we shall never sheathe the sword, which we have not lightly drawn, until belgium recovers in full measure all, and more than all, she has sacrificed; until france is adequately secure against the menace of aggression; until the rights of the smaller nationalities of europe are placed on an unassailable foundation; and until the military domination of prussia is wholly and finally destroyed." those noble words, in which the great soul of britain is expressed in half a dozen lines, should be driven into the heart and brain of the empire. for they are, indeed, a great and eloquent call to britain to be up and doing. four months later, mr. asquith repeated them in the house of commons, adding: "i hear sometimes whispers--they are hardly more than whispers--of possible terms of peace. peace is the greatest of all blessings, but this is not the time to talk of peace. those who do so, however excellent their intentions, are, in my judgment, the victims, i will not say of a wanton but a grievous self-delusion. the time to talk of peace is when the great purposes for which we and our allies embarked upon this long and stormy voyage are within sight of accomplishment." every thinking man must realise the truth and force of what the premier said. the question inevitably follows--are we acting with such swiftness and decision that we shall be in a position, before the opportunity has passed, to make those words good? there is a steadily growing volume of opinion among men who are in a position to form a cool judgment that, partly for financial and partly for physical reasons, a second winter campaign cannot possibly be undertaken by any of the combatants engaged in the present struggle. if that view be well founded, it follows that peace on some terms or other will be concluded by october or november at the latest. we, more than any other nation, depend upon the issue of this war to make our existence, as a people and an empire, safe for a hundred years to come. have we so energetically pushed on the preparations that, by the time winter is upon us again, we shall, with the help of our gallant allies, have dealt germany such a series of crushing blows as to compel her to accept a peace which shall be satisfactory to us? there, i believe, we have the question which it is vital for us to answer. if the answer is in the negative, i say, without hesitation, that time fights not with the allies but with germany. if, as many people think, this war must end somehow before the next winter, we must, by that time, either have crushed out the vicious system of prussian militarism, or we must resign ourselves to a patched-up peace, which would be but a truce to prepare for a more terrible struggle to come. despite our most heroic resolves, it is doubtful whether, under modern conditions of warfare, the money can be found for a very prolonged campaign. i do not forget, of course, that the allies have undertaken not to conclude a separate peace, and i have not the least doubt that the bargain will be loyally kept. but we cannot lose sight of the possibility that peace may come through the inability of the combatants to continue the war, which it is calculated will by the autumn have cost nine thousand millions of money. and we can take it for granted that the task of subduing a germany driven to desperation, standing on the defensive, and fighting with the blind savagery of a cornered rat, is going to be a long and troublesome business. we are assured that the allies can stand the financial strain better than germany. possibly; but the point is that no one knows just how much strain germany can stand before she breaks, and in war it is only common prudence to prepare for the worst that can befall. this is precisely what we, most emphatically, are _not_ doing to-day. thanks to the reasons i have given--the chief of which is the unwarrantable official secrecy and the wholly unjustifiable "cooking" of the news--the british public is _not yet fully aroused to the deadly peril_ in which the nation and the empire stand. the british people are, as they ever have been, slow of thought and slower of action. they need much rousing. and in the present war it is most emphatically true that the right way of rousing them has not been used. smooth stories never yet fired british blood. let an englishman think things are going even tolerably well, and he is loth to disturb himself to make them go still better. but tell him a story of disaster, show him how his comrades fall and die in great fights against great odds: bring it home to his slow-working mind that he really has his back to the wall, and you fan at once into bright flame the smouldering pride of race and caste that has done, and will yet do, some of the greatest deeds that have rung in history. is there, we may well ask, another race in the world that would have wrested such glory from the disaster at mons? and the lads who fought the germans to a standstill in the great retreat did so because the very deadliness of the peril that confronted them called out all that is greatest and noblest and most enduring in our national character. is there no lesson our authorities at home can learn from that deathless story? are they so blind to all the plainest teachings of history that they fail to realise that the british people cannot be depressed and frightened into panic by bad news, though, such is our insular self-confidence, we can be only too easily lulled into optimism by good news? if the autocrats who spoon-feed the public with carefully selected titbits truly understood the mental characteristics of their own countrymen, they would surely realise that the best, indeed the only, way to arouse the british race throughout the world to a sense of the real magnitude of the task that lies before them is to tell them the simple truth. we want no more of the glossing over of unpleasant facts which seems to be one of the main objects of the press censorship. we want the real truth, not merely because we are, naturally, hungry for news, but because the real truth alone is capable of stimulating englishmen and welshmen, scotchmen and irishmen, the world over to take off their coats, turn up their sleeves, and seriously devote their energies to giving the german bully a sound and effective thrashing. chapter xi facts to remember we have heard a good deal about "business as usual": it would be well if we heard a little more of the companion saw--"do it now." for if this campaign, for good or ill, is to finish before the snows of next winter come, the need for an instant redoubling of our energies is pressing beyond words. in his gallant defence of the press bureau against overwhelming odds--few people share his admiration for that most unhappy institution--sir stanley buckmaster denied that information was ever "kept back." so far as i know no one has ever suggested that the press bureau had anything to say about the circulation of official news: its unhappily directed energies seem to operate in other directions. but that it is keeping back news of the very gravest kind admits of no shadow of doubt. the official reports have assured us of late, with irritating frequency, that there is "nothin' doin'." now and again we hear of a trench being heroically captured. but we hear very little of the reverse side of the picture, upon which the casualty lists, a month or six weeks later, throw such a lurid light. time and again lately we have read in the casualty lists of battalions losing anything from two hundred to four hundred men in killed or wounded or "missing," which means, in effect, prisoners. even the guards, our very finest regiments, have lost heavily in this last disagreeable fashion: other regiments have lost even more heavily. now british soldiers do not surrender readily, and we can take it for granted that when a large number of our men are made prisoners it is not without very heavy fighting. one single daily paper recently contained the names of very nearly two thousand officers and men killed, or wounded, or missing, on certain dates in january. where, why, or how these men were lost we do not know, and we are told absolutely nothing. the real fact is that the news is carefully concealed under a tiny paragraph which announces that a line of trenches which had been lost have been brilliantly recaptured. we are glad, of course, to learn of the success, but would it not be well for the nation to learn of the failure? can it be supposed for an instant that the germans do not know? is it giving away military information of value to the enemy to publish here in great britain news with which they are already perfectly well acquainted? is it not rather that in their anxiety to say smooth things the authorities deliberately suppress the news of reverses, and tell us only the story of our triumph? the most injurious suppression of news by the government has made its effect felt in practically every single department of our public life which has the remotest connection with the prosecution of the war. take recruiting as an example. recruiting is mainly stimulated, such is the curious temper of our people, either by a great victory or a great disaster. failing one or other of these, the flow of men sinks to what we regard as "normal proportions," which means in effect that the public is lukewarm on the subject. it is perfectly well known that a specially heroic deed of a particular regiment will bring to that regiment a flood of recruits, as was the case after the gallant exploit of the london scottish had been published to the world. and what is true of the regiment, is true of the army. yet with all their enthusiastic advertising for recruits, the military authorities have neglected the quickest and easiest way of filling the ranks: instead of telling our people in bold stirring words of the heroic deeds of our individual regiments, they have, except in a few instances, fought the war with a degree of anonymity which may be creditable to their modesty, but does no tribute to their intelligence. turn the shield to the darker side: every reverse has stimulated patriotism and brought more men to the colours. what, i wonder, was the value of the scarborough raid as compared with the recruiting posters? the sense of insult bit deep, as it always does in the english mind. the kaiser's own particular insult--his jibing reference to "general french's contemptible little army"--probably did more to rouse the fighting blood of our men than all the german attacks. the splendid story of the retreat from mons flushed our hearts to pride, and men poured to the colours. is there no lesson here for the wiseacres of whitehall? does the knowledge that englishmen may be led, but cannot be driven, convey nothing to them? are they unaware that the englishman is the worst servant in the world if he is not trusted, but the very best if full confidence is extended to him? can they not see that their foolish policy of suppressing ugly facts is, day by day, breeding greater distrust and apathy? i confess to feeling very strongly on the clyde strikes, which, for a wretched industrial dispute--probably engineered by german secret agents--held up war material of which we stood in the gravest need. i cannot understand how scotsmen, belonging to a nation which has proved its glorious valour on a hundred hard-fought fields, could have ceased work when they were assured that their claims would be investigated by an impartial tribunal. the bare idea, to me, is as shocking as it must be to most people. and i can only hope and believe that the action the men took is mainly attributable to the simple fact that they did not understand the real gravity of the position; that they did not appreciate the desperate character of our need, and that they utterly failed to realise that to cease work at such a time was as truly desertion in the face of the enemy as if they had been soldiers on duty in the trenches. i confess i would rather think this than put the cause down to laziness, or lack of patriotism, or drink. but if this, indeed, be the real cause--a lack of knowledge of the essential facts of the situation--whom have we to thank? those, surely, who have cozened a great people with fair words; those, surely, who have spoken as though our enemy were in desperate straits, that all goes well, and that the war will soon be over. with regard to the alien peril, it is a source of great gratification to me that his majesty's government have adopted my suggestion of closing the routes to holland to all who cannot furnish to the foreign office guarantees of their _bona fides_. in my book, "german spies in england," i suggested this course, and in addition, that the intending traveller should apply personally for a permit, that he should furnish a photograph of himself, his passport, his certificate of registration, if an alien, and two references from responsible british individuals stating the reason for the journey and the nature of the business to be transacted. within a fortnight of the publication of my suggestion the government adopted it, and have established a special department at the home office for the purpose of interviewing all intending to leave england for holland. the regulations are now most stringent. and, surely, not before they were required. thus one step has been taken to reduce the enemy alien peril. but more remains to be done. if we wish to end it, once and for all, we should follow the example of our allies, the russians, who were well aware of the network of spies spread over their land. in russia every german, whether naturalised or not, has been interned, every german woman and child has been sent out of the country, and all property belonging to german companies, or individuals, has been confiscated for ever by the government. one result of this confiscation is that factories in first-class condition can now be purchased from the russian government for what the bricks are worth. in addition, there is a fine upon all persons heard speaking german in public. in the opinion of russians, germany was, as in england, a kind of octopus, and now they have the opportunity they have thrown it off for ever. why should we still pursue the policy of the kid-glove and allow the peril to daily increase when the government could, by a stroke of the pen, end it for ever, as russia has done? now there is one remedy, and only one, for the national apathy. the truth must be told, and with all earnestness i beg of my readers, each as opportunity offers, to do all in his power to stimulate public opinion in the right direction until the demand for the truth becomes so universal, and so insistent, that no government in this country can afford to ignore it. many members of parliament have appealed in vain; the great newspapers have fought unweariedly for the cause of honesty and common sense. the real remedy lies in the hands of the people. democracy may not bring us unmixed blessings, but it does, at least, mean that, in the long run, the will of the people must rule. if the people insist on the truth, the truth must be told, and in so insisting the people of england, i firmly believe, will be doing a great work for themselves, for our empire, and for the cause of civilisation. they will be working for the one thing necessary above all others to hearten the strong, to strengthen the weak, to resolve the hesitation of the doubters, to nerve britons as a whole for a stupendous effort which shall bring nearer, by many months, the final obliteration of the greatest menace which has ever confronted civilisation--the infamous doctrine that might is right, that faith and honour are but scraps of paper, that necessity knows no law but the law of self-interest, that the plighted word of a great nation can be heedlessly broken, and that the moral reprobation of humanity counts for nothing against material success. the end _printed by hazell, watson & viney, ld., london and aylesbury._ german spies in england an exposure: by william le queux ( th thousand) /- net what great men think the lord mayor of london says:-- "your new book deserves the serious attention of the authorities, as it vividly depicts a very grave national peril." the earl of halsbury says:-- "the public has not yet appreciated the extent to which germany has expended money and pains in spying. your book will help to make it known." the earl of portsmouth says:-- "your book is most instructive. the national democratic movement aroused by the war should be employed to expiate all hostile aliens, from the highest to the lowest." viscount galway says:-- "your book is most interesting. i sincerely hope it will cause more attention to be paid to the danger to england from german spies." the earl of crawford says:-- "i am glad attention is being so prominently drawn to this most important subject." lord leith of fyvie says:-- "your book is most serviceable. the emperor william's speech shows how treacherously brutal is his madness for world power, and it opens the eyes of all americans who are inclined to admire the emperor. it shows his intention to run the elections and to boss the united states. i hope you will be able to demonstrate who are the degenerates who are betraying their country by active sympathy and assistance to the enemy." what the press thinks _the daily mail_ says:-- "it is a book which should be carefully studied from cover to cover. the present arrangement for dealing with spies mr. le queux pronounces altogether unsatisfactory." _the daily telegraph_ says:-- "the discovery of the german spy system has, we believe, been made in time, and mr. le queux must take his share in the credit of the discovery. his self-sacrificing energy is vindicated to the world. the stories which he tells will come as an alarming revelation to the public." _the globe_ says:-- "the audacity of some german agents in england, as revealed by mr. le queux, is only equalled by their enterprise. mr. le queux emphasises the point that it is those rich germans of the schulenberg type, for whom some one in our government or administration seems to have so unwholesome a tenderness, who are the most dangerous. there are many astonishing statements in this most amazing book." _the pall mall gazette_ says:-- "mr. le queux has devoted special attention to german spies, and his book will be read with much interest." _the evening standard_ says:-- "mr. le queux has here written on spies and spying, as sensational a book as any of his romances. indeed, it may be questioned whether mr. le queux would have gone the length of introducing into a fictional plot so extraordinary a chapter as that in which he reports one of the kaiser's speeches." _the scotsman_ says:-- "mr. le queux gives a résumé of espionage methods. he goes over the recent spy convictions, and describes a considerable number of other cases, unpunished, which have come under his own observation. he has certainly laboured hard to impress the danger of the german system of spying on the mind of the british public, and gives several instances of the ease with which communication with germany can still be carried out." a clear account of how the present burdens of taxation, high prices, and low wages can be changed to individual and national prosperity. the cure for poverty by john calvin brown _in crown vo. cloth gilt. s. net_ mr. h. page croft, m.p., writes: "i hope this valuable book will be widely read, for it deals with the two greatest difficulties with which the british people are faced--that of raising revenue for national defence and social reform and that of industrial unrest--and points to the 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book of reference on the subject has hitherto supplied in a concrete form. london stanley paul & co essex street, strand, w.c. daily mail says:--"_mr. will dyson has the most virile style of any british cartoonist.... wonderful ... striking war cartoons._" kultur cartoons by will dyson foreword by h.g. wells. original war cartoons, each mounted on a dark background (suitable for framing). imperial to, cover design, s. net. a limited edition of copies, numbered and signed by the artist, s. net each. _the observer._--"mr. will dyson will have to be reckoned with as one of the leading illustrators of the present day ... his poignant humour strikes a deeper and more thrilling note than that of any other graphic humorist of to-day." london stanley paul & co essex street, strand, w.c. new six shilling novels the sails of life cecil adair a gentlewoman of france rené boylesve the prussian terror alexandre dumas greater than the greatest hamilton drummond the heiress of swallowcliffe e. 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six volumes, demy vo, handsomely bound in cloth gilt, with illustrations in photogravure, / net each volume._ (_volumes i. and ii. are now ready._) no historian has ever succeeded in placing scenes and persons so vividly before the eyes of his readers as did the duke de st. simon. he was a born observer; his curiosity was insatiable; he had a keen insight into character; he knew everybody, and has a hundred anecdotes to relate of the men and women he describes. he had a singular knack of acquiring the confidential friendship of men in high office, from whom he learnt details of important state affairs. for a brief while he served as a soldier. afterwards his life was passed at the court of louis xiv, where he won the affectionate intimacy of the duke of orleans and the duke of burgundy. st. simon's famous memoirs have recently been much neglected in england, owing to the mass of unnecessary detail overshadowing the marvellously fascinating chronicle beneath. in this edition, however, they have been carefully edited and should have an extraordinarily wide reception. by the waters of germany by norma lorimer, author of "a wife out of egypt," etc. with a preface by douglas sladen. _demy vo, cloth gilt, with a coloured frontispiece and other illustrations by_ margaret thomas _and_ erna michel, _ / net_. this fascinating travel-book describes the land of the rhine and the black forest, at the present time so much the centre of public interest. the natural and architectural beauties of germany are too supreme for even the sternest german-hater to deny; and this book describes them and the land around them well. but apart from the love-story which miss lorimer has weaved into the book, a particularly great interest attaches to her description of the home life of the men who, since she saw them, have deserved and received the condemnation of the whole civilized world. by the waters of sicily by norma lorimer, author of "by the waters of germany," etc. _new and cheaper edition, reset from new type, large crown vo, cloth gilt, with a coloured frontispiece and other illustrations, /-._ this book, the predecessor of "by the waters of germany," was called at the time of its original publication "one of the most original books of travel ever published." it had at once a big success, but for some time it has been quite out of print. full of the vivid colour of sicilian life, it is a delightfully picturesque volume, half travel-book, half story; and there is a sparkle in it, for the author writes as if glad to be alive in her gorgeously beautiful surroundings. the new france, being a history from the accession of louis philippe in to the revolution of , with appendices by alexandre dumas. translated into english, with an introduction and notes by r.s. garnett. _in two volumes, demy vo, cloth gilt, profusely illustrated with a rare portrait of dumas and other pictures after famous artists. /- net._ the map of europe is about to be altered. before long we shall be engaged in the marking out. this we can hardly follow with success unless we possess an intelligent knowledge of the history of our allies. it is a curious fact that the present generation is always ignorant of the history of that which preceded it. everyone or nearly everyone has read a history--carlyle's or some other--of the french revolution of to ; very few seem versed in what followed and culminated in the revolution of , which was the continuation of the first. both revolutions resulted from an idea--the idea of _the people_. in the people destroyed servitude, ignorance, privilege, monarchical despotism; in they thrust aside representation by the few and a monarchy which served its own interests to the prejudice of the country. it is impossible to understand the french republic of to-day unless the struggle in be studied: for every profound revolution is an evolution. a man of genius, the author of the most essentially french book, both in its subject and treatment, that exists (its name is _the three musketeers_) took part in this second revolution, and having taken part in it, he wrote its history. only instead of calling his book what it was--a history of france for eighteen years--that is to say from the accession of louis philippe in to his abdication in --he called it _the last king of the french_. an unfortunate title, truly, for while the book was yet a new one the "last king" was succeeded by a man who, having been elected president, made himself emperor. it will easily be understood that a book with such a title by a republican was not likely to be approved by the severe censorship of the second empire. and, in fact, no new edition of the book has appeared for sixty years, although its republican author was alexandre dumas. during the present war the germans have twice marched over his grave at villers cotterets, near soissons, where he sleeps with his brave father general alexandre dumas. the first march was en route for paris; the second was before the pursuit of our own and the french armies, and while these events were taking place the first translation of his long neglected book was being printed in london. _habent sua fata libelli._ written when the fame of its brilliant author was at its height, this book will be found eminently characteristic of him. although a history composed with scrupulous fidelity to facts, it is as amusing as a romance. wittily written, and abounding in life and colour, the long narrative takes the reader into the battle-field, the court and the hôtel de ville with equal success. dumas, who in his early days occupied a desk in the prince's bureaux, but who resigned it when the duc d'orleans became king of the french, relates much which it is curious to read at the present time. to his text, as originally published, are added as appendices some papers from his pen relating to the history of the time, which are unknown in england. croquet by the rt. hon. lord tollemache. _demy vo, cloth gilt, with photographs and a large coloured plan of the court, / net._ this work, intended both for the novice and for the skilled player, explains in clear language the various methods, styles and shots found after careful thought and practical experiences to have the best results. it is thoroughly up-to-date, and includes, besides good advice on the subject of "breaks," a treatise on the either ball game, explaining how to play it. the jolly duchess: harriot, duchess of st. albans. fifty years' record of stage and society ( - ) by charles e. pearce, author of "polly peachum," etc. _demy vo, cloth gilt, fully illustrated, /- net._ mr. charles e. pearce tells in a lively, anecdotal style the story of harriot mellon, who played merry, hoydenish parts before the foot-lights a hundred years ago, until her fortunes were suddenly changed by her amazing marriage to thomas coutts, the banker prince, who died a few years later, leaving her a gigantic fortune. she then married the duke of st. albans. sir herbert tree and the modern theatre: a discursive biography by sidney dark, author of "the man who would not be king," etc. _demy vo, cloth gilt, fully illustrated, / net._ mr. sidney dark, the well-known literary and dramatic critic, has written a fascinating character-study of sir herbert tree both as actor and as man, and he has used the striking personality of his subject as a text for a comprehensive survey and criticism of the modern english stage and its present tendencies. mr. dark's opinions have always been distinctive and individual, and his new book is outspoken, witty, and brilliantly expressed. the master problem by james marchant, f.r.s. ed., author of "dr. paton," and editor of "prevention," etc. with an introduction by the rev. f.b. meyer, d.d. _crown vo, cloth gilt, /- net._ this book deals with the social evil, its causes and its remedies. necessarily, the writer is compelled to present many aspects of the case, and to describe persons and scenes 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least-known period of napoleon's life. training for the track, field & road by harry andrews, official trainer to the a.a.a., etc. _crown vo, cloth, with illustrations, /- net._ the athlete, "coming and come," has in this volume a training manual from the brain and pen of our foremost athlete trainer to-day. every runner knows the name of harry andrews and his long list of successes--headed by that wonderful exponent, alfred shrubb. it is, however, for the self-training man that the author explains the needed preparation and methods for every running distance. this most authoritative and up-to-date book should therefore prove of immeasurable assistance to every athlete, amateur or professional, throughout the empire. paul's simplicode _crown vo, cloth, /- net._ a simple and thoroughly practical and efficient code for the use of travellers, tourists, business men, departmental stores, shopping by post, colonial emigrants, lawyers, and the general public. everyone should use this, the cheapest code book published in english. a sentence in a word. the marie tempest birthday book giving an extract for each day of the year from the various parts played by miss marie tempest. _demy mo, cloth gilt, with an introductory appreciation and portraits in photogravure, / net._ miss marie tempest is undoubtedly one of the most popular actresses of the english stage. she has created for herself a distinctive character, into which is weaved much of her own personality, and the charm of that personality is illustrated by these happy quotations from the parts she has played. the illustrations, show her at various periods in her theatrical career, while the introductory appreciation by mr. sidney dark is especially illuminating. a garland of verse for young people edited by alfred h. miles. _handsome cloth gilt, / net._ a collection of verse for children. the pieces, selected from a wide field, are graded to suit age and classified to facilitate reference, and many new pieces are included to help nature-study and interest children in collateral studies. never before has an attempt been made to cover in one volume such a wide range of pieces at so small a price. this is my birthday by anita bartle. with an introduction by israel zangwill. _handsomely bound, gilt and gilt top, pages, / net. also in various leather bindings._ this is a unique volume, being a birthday-book of the great, living and dead, whether poets, artists, philosophers, statesmen, warriors, or novelists. a page of beautiful and characteristic quotations is appropriated to each name, and the page opposite is left blank for the filling in of new names. everyone likes to know the famous people who were born on their natal day, and few will refuse to add their signatures to such a birthday book as this. mr. zangwill has written a charming introduction to the book, and there is a complete index. stories of the kaiser and his ancestors by clare jerrold, author of "the early court of queen victoria," and "the married life of queen victoria," etc. _crown vo, cloth gilt, with portraits, / net; paper, /- net._ in this book mrs. clare jerrold presents in anecdotal fashion incidents both tragic and comic in the career of the kaiser wilhelm and his ancestors. the frank and fearless fashion in which mrs. jerrold has dealt with events in her earlier books will pique curiosity as to this new work, in which she shows the kaiser as an extraordinary example of heredity--most of his wildest vagaries being foreshadowed in the lives and doings of his forebears. a new series of reciters pages large to, double-columns, clear type on good paper, handsome cover design in three colours, d. net. also in cloth, /- net. the first favourite reciter edited by alfred h. miles. valuable copyright and other pieces by robert louis stevenson, sir edwin arnold, austin dobson, sir w.s. gilbert, edmund gosse, lord lytton, coulson kernahan, campbell rae-brown, tom gallon, artemus ward, and other poets, wits, and humorists. mr. miles' successes in the reciter world are without parallel. since he took the field in with his a series, he has been continually scoring, reaching the boundary of civilisation with every hit. for nearly years he has played a famous game, and his score to date is a million odd, not out! the secret is, he captains such wonderful elevens, and places them with so much advantage in the field. who could not win with such teams as those named above? _uniform with the above in style and price_: the up-to-date reciter edited by alfred h. miles. valuable copyright and other pieces by great authors, including hall caine, sir a. conan doyle, robert buchanan, william morris, christina rossetti, lord tennyson, robert browning, mark twain, bret harte, max adeler, and other poets and humorists. "an ideal gift for your girls and youths for christmas. it is just as admirable a production for grown-ups, and many a pleasant hour in the cold evenings can be spent by the fire with 'the up-to-date reciter.'"--_star._ "a very handy collection of recitations has been gathered here by mr. alfred h. miles. the editor has aimed at including poems and prose pieces which are not usually to be found in volumes of recitations, as well as a few of the old favourites.... the grave and gay occasions are equally well provided for. a sign of the times is here, too, shown by the inclusion of such pieces as 'woman and work' and 'woman,' both from the chivalrous pen of the editor."--_the bookman._ "a marvellous production for sixpence, excellent in every respect."--_colonial bookseller._ the everyday series edited by gertrude paul. books on household subjects, giving a recipe or hint for every day in the year, including february th. _in crown vo, strongly bound, /- net each._ the everyday soup book by g.p. recipes for soups, purées, and broths of every kind for a quiet dinner at home or an aldermanic banquet. the everyday pudding book by f.k. one of the most valuable cookery books in existence. it gives ways of making puddings. the everyday vegetable book by f.k. this includes sauces as well as vegetables and potatoes. it gives an unexampled list of new and little-known recipes. the everyday economical cookery book by a.t.k. "very practical."--_westminster gazette._ "really economical and good."--_world._ the everyday savoury book by marie worth. "a practical book of good recipes."--_spectator._ camp cookery: a book for boy scouts by lincoln green. _crown vo, strongly bound, d. net._ this is the officially approved book for the boy scouts' association, and contains a clear account of the methods, materials, dishes, and utensils appropriate to camp life. it also describes the construction of an inexpensive cooking apparatus. the laughter lover's vade-mecum good stories, epigrams, witty sayings, jokes, and rhymes. _in f'cap vo ( - / × - / ), cloth bound, round corners, / net; leather, /- net_ (uniform with diner's out vade-mecum). whoever wishes to secure a repertoire of amusing stories and smart sayings to be retailed for the delight of his family and friends, cannot possibly do better than get "the laughter lover's vade-mecum"; and those who seek bright relief from worries little and big should take advantage of the same advice. the diner's-out vade-mecum a pocket "what's what" on the manners and customs of society functions, etc., etc. by alfred h. miles. _in fcap. vo ( - / × - / ), cloth bound, round corners, / net.; leather, /- net._ this handy book is intended to help the diffident and inexperienced to the reasonable enjoyment of the social pleasures of society by an elementary introduction to the rules which govern its functions, public and private, at dinners, breakfasts, luncheons, teas, at homes, receptions, balls and suppers, with hints on etiquette, deportment, dress, conduct, after-dinner speaking, entertainment, story-telling, toasts and sentiments, etc., etc. _a new edition reset from new type._ cole's fun doctor first series. one of the two funniest books in the world. by e.w. cole; _ pp., cr. vo, cloth, / _. the mission of mirth is well understood, "laugh and grow fat" is a common proverb, and the healthiness of humour goes without saying. this book, therefore, should find a place in every home library. it is full of fun from beginning to end. fun about babies; fun about bad boys; fun about love, kissing, courting, proposing, flirting, marrying; fun about clergymen, doctors, teachers; fun about lawyers, judges, magistrates, jurymen, witnesses, thieves, vagabonds, etc., etc. it is doubtful if any man living could read any page without bursting into a hearty laugh. cole's fun doctor second series. the other of the two funniest books in the world. by e.w. cole; _ pp., crown vo, cloth, / _. dr. blues had an extensive practice until the fun doctor set up in opposition, but now fun doctors are in requisition everywhere. "the second series of _cole's fun doctor_ is as good as the first. it sparkles thoroughout, with laughs on every page, and will put the glomiest curmudgeon into cheery spirits ... it is full of fun."--_evening standard._ ballads of brave women. records of the heroic in thought, action and endurance. by alfred h. miles and other writers. _large crown vo, red limp, /- net; cloth, gilt, / net; paste grain, gilt (boxed), /- net; persian yapp, gilt top (boxed), /- net._ "ballads of brave women" is a collection of poems suitable for recitation at women's meetings and at gatherings and entertainments of a more general character. its aim is to celebrate the bravery of women as shown in the pages of history, on the field of war, in the battle of life, in the cause of freedom, in the service of humanity, and in the face of death. the subjects dealt with embrace loyalty, patriotism, in war, in domestic life, for love, self-sacrifice, for liberty, labour, in danger, for honour, the care of the sick, in face of death, etc., by a selection of the world's greatest writers, and edited by alfred h. miles. "the attention which everything appertaining to the woman's movement is just now receiving has induced mr. alfred h. miles to collect and edit these 'ballads of brave women.' he has made an excellent choice, and produced a useful record of tributes to woman's heroism in thought, action and endurance."--_pall mall gazette._ my own reciter alfred h. miles. original poems, ballads and stories in verse, lyrical and dramatic, for reading and recitation. _crown vo, /- net._ drawing-room entertainments a book of new and original monologues, duologues, dialogues, and playlets for home and platform use. by catherine evelyn, clare shirley, robert overton, and other writers. edited by alfred h. miles. _in crown vo, red limp, /- net; cloth gilt, / net; paste grain, gilt (boxed), /- net; persian yapp, gilt (boxed), /- net._ _extract from editor's preface_, "the want of a collection of short pieces for home use, which, while worthy of professional representation shall not be too exacting for amateur rendering, and shall be well within the limits of drawing-room resources, has often been pressed upon the editor, and the difficulty of securing such pieces has alone delayed his issue of a collection. "performances may be given in drawing-rooms, school rooms, and lecture halls, privately or for charitable purposes unconditionally, except that the authorship and source _must_ be acknowledged on any printed programmes that may be issued, but permission must be previously secured from the editor, who, in the interests of his contributors reserves all dramatic rights for their performance in theatres and music halls or by professionals for professional purposes." * * * * * * transcriber's note: two occurences of unpaired duouble quotation marks could not be corrected with confidence. affair in araby by talbot mundy chapter i "i'll make one to give this feisul boy a hoist" whoever invented chess understood the world's works as some men know clocks and watches. he recognized a fact and based a game on it, with the result that his game endures. and what he clearly recognized was this: that no king matters much as long as your side is playing a winning game. you can leave your king in his corner then to amuse himself in dignified unimportance. but the minute you begin to lose, your king becomes a source of anxiety. in what is called real life (which is only a great game, although a mighty good one) it makes no difference what you call your king. call him pope if you want to, or president, or chairman. he grows in importance in proportion as the other side develops the attack. you've got to keep your symbol of authority protected or you lose. nevertheless, your game is not lost as long as your king can move. that's why the men who want to hurry up and start a new political era imprison kings and cut their heads off. with no head on his shoulders your king can only move in the direction of the cemetery, which is over the line and doesn't count. i love a good fight, and have been told i ought to be ashamed of it. i've noticed, though, that the folk who propose to elevate my morals fight just as hard, and less cleanly, with their tongue than some of us do with our fists and sinews. i'm told, too, quite frequently that as an american i ought to be ashamed of fighting for a king. dear old ladies of both sexes have assured me that it isn't moral to give aid and comfort to a gallant gentleman--a godless mohammedan, too; which makes it much worse--who is striving gamely and without malice to keep his given word and save his country. but if you've got all you want, do you know of any better fun than lending a hand while some man you happen to like gets his? i don't. of course, some fellows want too much, and it's bad manners as well as waste of time to inflict your opinion on them. but given a reasonable purpose and a friend who needs your assistance, is there any better sport on earth than risking your own neck to help him put it over? walk wide of the man and particularly of the woman, who makes a noise about lining your pocket or improving your condition. an altruist is my friend james schuyler grim, but he makes less noise than a panther on a dark night; and i never knew a man less given to persuading you. he has one purpose, but almost never talks about it. it's a sure bet that if we hadn't struck up a close friendship, sounding each other out carefully as opportunity occurred, i would have been in the dark about it until this minute. all the news of asia from alexandretta to the persian gulf and from northern turkestan to south arabia reaches grim's ears sooner or later. he earns his bread and butter knitting all that mess of cross-grained information into one intelligible pattern; after which he interprets it and acts suddenly without advance notices. time and again, lone-handed, he has done better than an army corps, by playing chief against chief in a land where the only law is individual interpretation of the koran. but it wasn't until our rescue of jeremy ross from near abu kem, that i ever heard grim come out openly and admit that he was working to establish feisul, third son of the king of mecca, as king of just as many arabs as might care to have him over them. that was the cat he had been keeping in a bag for seven years. right down to the minute when grim, jeremy and i sat down with ben saoud the avenger on a stricken field at abu kem, and grim and jeremy played their hands so cleverly that the avenger was made, unwitting guardian of jeremy's secret gold-mine, and feisul's open and sworn supporter in the bargain, the heart of grim's purpose continued to be a mystery even to me; and i have been as intimate with him as any man. he doles out what he has in mind as grudgingly as any scot spends the shillings in his purse. but the scots are generous when they have to be, and so is grim. there being nothing else for it on that occasion, he spilled the beans, the whole beans, and nothing but the beans. having admitted us two to his secret, he dilated on it all the way back to jerusalem, telling us all he knew of feisul (which would fill a book), and growing almost lyrical at times as he related incidents in proof of his contention that feisul, lineal descendant of the prophet mohammed, is the "whitest" arab and most gallant leader of his race since saladin. knowing grim and how carefully suppressed his enthusiasm usually is, i couldn't help being fired by all he said on that occasion. and as for jeremy, well--it was like meat and drink to him. you meet men more or less like jeremy ross in any of earth's wild places, although you rarely meet his equal for audacity, irreverence and riotous good-fellowship. he isn't the only australian by a long shot who upholds australia by fist and boast and astounding gallantry, yet stays away from home. you couldn't fix jeremy with concrete; he'd find some means of bursting any mould. he had been too long lost in the heart of arabia for anything except the thought of sydney bluffs and the homesteads that lie beyond to tempt him for the first few days. "you fellers come with me," he insisted. "you chuck the army, grim, and i'll show you a country where the cows have to bend their backs to let the sun go down. ha-ha! show you women too--red-lipped girls in sunbonnets, that'll look good after the splay-footed crows you see out here. tell you what: we'll pick up the orient boat at port said--no p. and o. for me; i'm a passenger aboard ship, not a horrible example!-- and make a wake for the bull's kid. murder! won't the scoff taste good! "we'll hit the bull's kid hard for about a week--mix it with the fellers in from way back--you know--dry-blowers, pearlers, spending it easy-- handing their money to bessie behind the bar and restless because she makes it last too long; watch them a while and get in touch with all that's happening; then flit out of sydney like bats out of--and hump blue--eh?" "something'll turn up; it always does. i've got money in the bank-- about, two thousand here in gold dust with me,--and if what you say's true, grim, about me still being a trooper, then the army owes me three years' back pay, and i'll have it or go to buckingham palace and tear off a piece of the king! we're capitalists, by jupiter! besides, you fellers agreed that if i shut down the mine at abu kem you'd join me and we'd be grim, ramsden and ross." "i'll keep the bargain if you hold me to it when the time comes," grim answered. "you bet i'll hold you to it! rammy here, and you and i could trade the chosen people off the map between us. we're a combination. what's time got to do with it?" "we've got to use your mine," grim answered. "i'm game. but let's see australia first." "suppose we fix up your discharge, and you go home," grim suggested. "come back when you've had a vacation, and by that time ramsden and i will have done what's possible for feisul. he's in damascus now, but the french have got him backed into a corner. no money--not much ammunition--french propaganda undermining the allegiance of his men-- time working against him, and nothing to do but wait." "what in hell have the french got to do with it?" "they want syria. they've got the coast towns now. they mean to have damascus; and if they can catch feisul and jail him to keep him out of mischief they will." "but damn it! didn't they promise the arabs that feisul should be king of syria, palestine, mesopotamia, and all that?" "they did. the allies all promised, france included. but since the armistice the british have made a present of palestine to the jews, and the french have demanded syria for themselves. the british are pro-feisul, but the french don't want him anywhere except dead or in jail. they know they've given him and the arabs a raw deal; and they seem to think the simplest way out is to blacken feisul's character and ditch him. if the french once catch him in damascus he's done for and the arab cause is lost." "why lost?" demanded jeremy. "there are plenty more arabs." "but only one feisul. he's the only man who can unite them all." "i know a chance for him," said jeremy. "let him come with us three to australia. there are thousands of fellers there who fought alongside him and don't care a damn for the french. they'll raise all the hell there is before they'll see him ditched." "uh-huh! london's the place for him," grim answered. "the british like him, and they're ashamed of the way he's been treated. they'll give him mesopotamia. baghdad's the old arab capital, and that'll do for a beginning; after that it's up to the arabs themselves." "well? where does my gold mine come in?" jeremy asked. "feisul has no money. if it was made clear to him that he could serve the arabs best by going to london, he'd consider it. the objection would be, though, that he'd have to make terms in advance with hog-financiers, who'd work through the foreign office to tie up all the oil and mine and irrigation concessions. if we tell him privately about your gold mine at abu kem he can laugh at financiers." "all right," said jeremy, "i'll give him the gold mine. let him erect a modern plant and he'll have millions!" "uh-huh! keep the mine secret. let him go to london and arrange about mespot. just at present high finance could find a hundred ways of disputing his title to the mine, but once he's king with the arabs all rooting for him things'll be different. he'll treat you right when that time comes, don't worry." "worry? me?" said jeremy. "all that worries me is having to see this business through before we can make a wake for sydney. i'm homesick. but never mind. all right, you fellers, i'll make one to give this feisul boy a hoist!" chapter ii "atcha, jimgrim sahib! atcha!" that conversation and jeremy's conversion to the big idea took place on the way across the desert to jerusalem--a journey that took us a week on camel-back--a rowdy, hot journey with the stifling simoom blowing grit into our followers' throats, who sang and argued alternately nevertheless. for, besides our old ali baba and his sixteen sons and grandsons, there were jeremy's ten pickups from arabia's byways, whom he couldn't leave behind because they knew the secret of his gold-mine. grim's authority is always at its height on the outbound trail, for then everybody knows that success, and even safety, depends on his swift thinking; on the way home afterward reaction sets in sometimes, because arabs are made light-headed by success, and it isn't a simple matter to discipline free men when you have no obvious hold over them. but that was where jeremy came in. jeremy could do tricks, and the arabs were like children when he performed for them. they would be good if he would make one live chicken into two live ones by pulling it apart. they would pitch the tents without fighting if he would swallow a dozen eggs and produce them presently from under a camel's tail. if he would turn on his ventriloquism and make a camel say its prayers, they were willing to forgive--for the moment anyhow--even their nearest enemies. so we became a sort of travelling sideshow, with jeremy ballyhooing for himself in an amazing flow of colloquial arabic, and hardly ever repeating the same trick. all of which was very good for our crowd and convenient at the moment, but hardly so good for jeremy's equilibrium. he is one of those handsome, perpetually youthful fellows, whose heads have been a wee mite turned by the sunshine of the world's warm smile. i don't mean by that that he isn't a tophole man, or a thorough-going friend with guts and gumption, who would chance his neck for anyone he likes without a second's hesitation, for he's every bit of that. he has horse sense, too, and isn't fooled by the sort of flattery that women lavish on men who have laughing eyes and a little dark moustache. but he hasn't been yet in a predicament that he couldn't laugh or fight his way out of; he has never yet found a job that he cared to stick at for more than a year or two, and seldom one that could hold him for six months. he jumps from one thing to another, finding all the world so interesting and amusing, and most folk so ready to make friends with him, that he always feels sure of landing softly somewhere over the horizon. so by the time we reached jerusalem friend jeremy was ripe for almost anything except the plan we had agreed on. having talked that over pretty steadily most of the way from abu kem, it seemed already about as stale and unattractive to him as some of his oldest tricks. and jerusalem provided plenty of distraction. we hadn't been in grim's quarters half an hour when jeremy was up to his ears in a dispute that looked like separating us. grim, who wears his arab clothes from preference and never gets into uniform if he can help it, went straight to the telephone to report briefly to headquarters. i took jeremy upstairs to discard my indian disguise and hunt out clothes for jeremy that would fit him, but found none, i being nearly as heavy as grim and jeremy together. he had finished clowning in the kit i offered him, and had got back into his arab things while i was shaving off the black whiskers with which nature adorns my face whenever i neglect the razor for a few days, when an auto came tooting and roaring down the narrow street, and a moment later three staff officers took the stairs at a run. so far, good; that was unofficial, good-natured, human and entirely decent. the three of them burst through the bed room door, all grins, and took turns pumping with jeremy's right arm--glad to see him--proud to know him--pleased to see him looking fit and well, and all that kind of thing. even men who had fought all through the war had forgotten some of its red tape by that time, and jeremy not being in uniform they treated him like a fellow human being. and he reciprocated, australian fashion, free and easy, throwing up his long legs on my bed and yelling for somebody to bring drinks for the crowd, while they showered questions on him. it wasn't until jeremy turned the tables and began to question them that the first cloud showed itself. "say, old top," he demanded of a man who wore the crossed swords of a brigadier. "grim tells me i'm a trooper. when can i get my discharge?" the effect was instantaneous. you would have thought they had touched a leper by the way they drew themselves up and changed face. "never thought of that. oh, i say--this is a complication. you mean...?" "i mean this," jeremy answered dryly, because nobody could have helped notice their change of attitude: "i was made prisoner by arabs and carried off. that's more than three years ago. the war's over. grim tells me all australians have been sent home and discharged. what about me?" "um-m-m! ah! this will have to be considered. let's see; to whom did you surrender?" "damn you, i didn't surrender! i met grim in the desert, and reported to him for duty." "met major grim, eh?" "yes," said grim, appearing in the door. "i came across him in the desert; he reported for duty; i gave him an order, and he obeyed it. everything's regular." "um-m-m! how'd you make that out--regular? have you any proof he wasn't a deserter? he'll have to be charged with desertion and tried by court martial, i'm afraid. possibly a mere formality, but it'll have to be done, you know, before he can be given a clear discharge. if he can't be proved guilty of desertion he'll be cleared." "how long will that take?" jeremy demanded. his voice rang sharp with the challenge note that means debate has ceased and quarrel started. it isn't the right note for dissolving difficulties. "couldn't tell you," said the brigadier. "my advice to you is to keep yourself as inconspicuous as possible until the administrator gets back." it was good advice, but grim, standing behind the brigadier, made signals to jeremy in vain. few australians talk peace when there is no peace, and when there's a fight in prospect they like to get it over. "i remember you," said jeremy, speaking rather, slowly, and throwing in a little catchy laugh that was like a war-cry heard through a microphone. "you were the fusileer major they lent to the jordan highlanders--fine force that--no advance without security--lost two men, if i remember--snakebite one; the other shot for looting. am i right? so they've made you a brigadier! aren't you the staff officer they sent to strafe a regiment of anzacs for going into action without orders? we chased you to cover! i can see you now running for fear we'd shoot you! hah!" grim took the only course possible in the circumstances. the brigadier's neck was crimson, and jeremy had to be saved somehow. "touch of sun, sir--that and hardship have unhinged him a bit. suffers from delusions. suppose i keep him here until the doctor sees him?" "um-m-m! ah! yes, you'd better. see he gets no whisky, will you? too bad! too bad! what a pity!" our three visitors left in a hurry, contriving to look devilish important. grim followed them out. "rammy, old cock," said jeremy, sprawling on the bed again and laughing, "don't look all that serious. bring back your brigadier and i'll kiss him on both cheeks while you hold him! but say; suppose that doctor's one of these swabs who serve out number nine pills for shell-shock, broken leg, dyspepsia, housemaid's knee and the creeping itch? suppose he swears i'm luny? what then?" "grim will find somebody to swear to anything once," i answered. "but you look altogether too dashed healthy--got to give the doctor-man a chance--here, get between the sheets and kid that something hurts you." "get out! the doc 'ud put a cast-iron splint on it, and order me into a hospital. how about toothache? that do? do they give you bread and water for it?" so toothache was selected as an alibi, and jeremy wrapped his jaw in a towel, after jabbing his cheek with a pin so as to remember on which side the pain should be. but it was artifice wasted, for grim had turned a better trick. he had found an australian doctor in the hospital for sikhs--the only other australian in jerusalem just then-- and brought him cooee-ing upstairs in a way that proved he knew the whole story already. the autopsy, as he called it, was a riot. we didn't talk of anything but fights at gaza--the surprise at nazareth, when the german general staff fled up the road on foot in its pyjamas--the three-day scrap at nebi samwil, when australians and turks took and retook the same hill half a dozen times, and parched enemies took turns drinking from one flask while the shells of both sides burst above them. it seems to have been almost like old-fashioned war in palestine from their account of it, either side conceding that the other played the game. when they had thrashed the whole campaign over from start to finish, making maps on my bed with hair brushes, razors and things, they got to talking of australia; and that was all about fighting too: dog fights, fist fights between bullockies on the long road from northern queensland, riots in perth when the pearlers came in off the barrier reef to spend their pay, rows in the big shearing sheds when the union men objected to unskilled labour--you'd have thought australia was one big battlefield, with nothing else but fights worth talking of from dawn till dark. the doctor was one of those tightly-knit, dark-complexioned little men with large freckles and brown eyes, who surprise you with a mixture of intense domestic virtue and a capacity, that shouldn't mix with it at all, for turning up in all the unexpected places. you meet his sort everywhere, and they always have a wife along, who worships them and makes a home out of tin cans and packing-cases that would put the stay-at-home housekeepers to shame. they always have a picture on the wall of cows standing knee-deep in the water, and no matter what their circumstances are, there's always something in reserve, for guests, offered frankly without apology. never hesitate with those folk, but don't let them go too far, for they'll beggar themselves to help you in a tight place, if you'll let them. ticknor his name was. he's a good man. "say, grim, there's a case in the sikh hospital that ought to interest you," he said at last. "fellow from damascus--arab--one of feisul's crowd. he wouldn't let them take him to the zionist hospital--swore a jew knifed him and that the others would finish the job if they got half a chance. they'd have been arguing yet, and he dead and buried, if i hadn't gone shopping with mabel. she saw the crowd first (i was in noureddin's store) and jabbed her way in with her umbrella--she yelled to me and i bucked the line. "the jews wanted to tell me i had no right to take that chap to the sikh hospital, and no more had i; so i plugged him up a bit, and put him in a cab, and let him take himself there, mabel and me beside him. seeing i was paying for the cab, i didn't see why mabel should walk. of course, once we had him in there he was too sick to be moved; but the army won't pay for him, so i sent a bill to the zionists, and they returned it with a rude remark on the margin. maybe i can get the money out of feisul some day; otherwise i'm stuck." "i'll settle that," said grim. "what's the tune he plays?" "utter mystery. swears a jew stabbed him, but that damascus outfit blame the jews for everything. he's only just down from damascus. i think he's one of feisul's officers, although he's not in uniform-- prob'ly on a secret mission. suppose you go and see him? but say, watch out for the doc on duty--he's a meddler. tell him nothing!" "sure. how about jeremy? what's the verdict?" "what do you want done with him?" "i want him out of reach of trouble here pending his discharge. no need to certify him mad, is there?" "mad? all australians are mad. none of us need a certificate for that. have you arrested him?" "not yet." "then you're too late! he's suffering from bad food and exposure. the air of jerusalem's bad for him, and he's liable to get pugnacious if argued with. that runs in the blood. i order him off duty, and shall recommend him within twenty minutes to the p.m.o. for leave of absence at his own expense. if you know of any general who dares override the p.m.o. i'll show you a brass hat in the wind. come on; d'you want to bet on it?" "will the p.m.o. fall?" asked grim. "like a new chum off a brumby. signs anything i shove under his nose. comes round to our house to eat mabel's damper and syrup three nights a week. you bet he'll sign it: besides, he's white; pulled out of the firing-line by an australian at gaza, and hasn't forgotten it. he'd sign anything but checks to help an anzac. i'll be going. "you trot up to the slaughter-shop, grim, and interview that arab--sidi bin something-or-other--forget his name--he lies in number nineteen cot on the left-hand side of the long ward, next to a pathan who's shy both legs. you can't mistake him. i'll write out a medical certificate for jeremy and follow. and say; wait a minute! what price the lot of you eating mabel's chow tonight at our house? we don't keep a cook, so you won't get poisoned. that's settled; i'll tell mabel you're coming. tootleloo!" but there was a chance that the brigadier might carry resentment to the point of sending up a provost-marshal's guard to arrest jeremy on the well-known principle that a bird in the hand can be strafed more easily than one with a medical certificate. the bush was the place for our bird until such time as the p.m.o.'s signature should adorn the necessary piece of paper; so we three rode up in a cab together to the sikh hospital, and had a rare time trying to get in. you see, there was a sikh on guard outside, who respected nothing under heaven but his orders. he wouldn't have known grim in any event, being only recently from india; grim's uniform would have passed him in, but he and jeremy were still arrayed as arabs, and my civilian clothes entitled me in the sentry's opinion to protection lest i commit the heinous sin of impertinence. an arab in his eyes was as an insect, and a white man, who consorted with such creatures, not a person to be taken seriously. but our friend narayan singh was in the hospital, enjoying the wise veteran's prerogative of resting on full pay after his strenuous adventures along with us at abu kem. there was nothing whatever the matter with him. he recognized grim's voice and emerged through the front door with a milk-white smile flashing in the midst of newly-curled black hair--dignified, immense, and full of instant understanding. grim said a few words to narayan singh in arabic, which so far as the sentry was concerned wasn't a language, but narayan singh spoke in turn in punjabi, and the man just out from india began to droop like jonah's gourd under the old soldier's scorn. in consequence we got a full salute with arms presented, and walked in without having to trouble anybody in authority, narayan singh leading with the air of an old-time butler showing royalty to their rooms. he even ascertained in an aside, that the doctor of the day was busy operating, and broke that good news with consummate tact: "the sahibs' lightest wish is law, but if they should wish to speak with the doctor sahib, it would be necessary to call him forth from the surgery, where he works behind locked doors. is it desired that i should summon him?" "operation serious?" asked grim, and neither man smiled. it was perfect acting. "very, sahib. he removes the half of a sepoy's liver." "uh! couldn't think of interrupting him. too bad! lead the way." but we didn't enter the ward until narayan singh and an orderly had placed two screens around number nineteen cot, in the way they do when a man is dying, and had placed three chairs at the bedside contrary to the regulations printed on the wall. then narayan singh stood on guard outside the screens, but didn't miss much of the conversation, i believe. the man in bed was wounded badly, but not fatally, and though his eyes blazed with fever he seemed to have some of his wits about him. he recognized grim after staring hard at him for about a minute. "jimgrim!" "sidi bin tagim, isn't it? well, well i thought it might be you," said grim, speaking the northern dialect of arabic, which differs quite a bit from that spoken around jerusalem. "who are these?" asked the man in bed, speaking hoarsely as he stared first at jeremy and then at me. "jmil ras, a friend of mine," grim answered. "and that one?" he didn't like the look of me at all. western clothes and a shaven face spell nothing reassuring to the arab when in trouble; he has been "helped" by the foreigner a time or two too often. "an american named ramsden. also a friend of mine." "oh! an amirikani? a hakim?" "no. not a doctor. not a man to fear. he is a friend of feisul." "on whose word?" "mine," grim answered. sidi bin tagim nodded. he seemed willing to take grim's word for anything. "why did you say a jew stabbed you?" grim asked suddenly. "so that they might hang a jew or two. wallah! are the jews not at the bottom of all trouble? if a greek should kill a maltese it would be a jew who planned it! may the curse of allah change their faces and the fire of eblis consume them!" "did you see the man who stabbed you?" "yes." and was he a jew?" "jimgrim, you know better than to ask that! a jew always hires another to do the killing. he who struck me was a hireling, who shall die by my hand, as allah is my witness. but may allah do more to me and bring me down into the dust unburied unless i make ten jews pay for this!" "any one jew in particular?" grim asked, and the man in bed closed up like a clam that has been touched. he was a strange-looking fellow--rather like one of those lean spaniards whom goya used to paint, with a scant beard turning grey, and hollow cheeks. he had thrown off the grey army blanket because fever burned him, and his lean, hard muscles stood out as if cast in bronze. "but for the jews, feisul would be king of all this land this minute!" he said suddenly, and closed up tight again. grim smiled. he nearly always does smile when apparently at a loose end. at moments when most cross-examiners would browbeat he grows sympathetic--humours his man, and, by following whatever detour offers, gets back on the trail again. "how about the french?" he asked. "may allah smite them! they are all in the pay of jews!" "can you prove it?" "wallah! that i can!" grim looked incredulous. those baffling eyes of his twinkled with quiet amusement, and the man in bed resented it. "you laugh, jimgrim, but if you would listen i might tell you something." but grim only smiled more broadly than ever. "sidi bin tagim, you're one of those fanatics who think the world is all leagued against you. why should the jews think you sufficiently important to be murdered?" "wallah! there are few who hold the reins of happenings as i do." "if they'd killed you they'd have stopped the clock, eh?" "that is as allah may determine. i am not dead." "have you friends in jerusalem?" "surely." "strange that they haven't been to see you." "wallah! not strange at all." "i see. they regard you as a man without authority, who might make trouble and leave other men to face it, eh?" "who says i have no authority?" "well, if you could prove you have--" "what then?" the man in bed demanded, trying to sit up. "feisul, for instance, is a friend of mine, and these men with me are his friends too. you have no letter, of course, for that would be dangerous..." "jimgrim, in the name of the most high, i swear i had a letter! he who stabbed me took it. i--" "was the letter from feisul?" "malaish--no matter. it was sealed, and bore a number for the signature. if you can get that letter for me, jimgrim--but what is the use! you are a servant of the british." "tell me who stabbed you and i'll get you the letter." "no, for you are clever. you would learn too much. better tell the doctor of this place to hurry up and heal me; then i will attend to my own affairs." "i'd like to keep you out of jail, if that's possible," grim answered. "you and i are old acquaintances, sidi bin tagim. but of course, if you're here to sow sedition, and should there be a document at large in proof of it, which document should fall into the hands of the police-- well, i couldn't do much for you then. you'd better tell me who stabbed you, and i'll get after him." "ah! but if you get the letter?" "i shall read it, of course." "but to whom will you show it?" "perhaps to my friends here." "are they bound by your honour?" "i shall hold them so." there was the glint in grim's eye now that should warn anyone who knew him that the scent was hot; added to the fact that the rest of his expression suggested waning interest, that look of his forebode fine hunting. "there's one other i might consult," he admitted casually. "on my way here i saw one of feisul's staff captains driving in a cab toward the jaffa gate." the instant effect of that remark was to throw the wounded man into a paroxysm of mingled rage and fear. he almost threw a fit. his already bloodless face grew ashy grey and livid blue alternately, and he would have screamed at grim if the cough that began to rack his whole body would have let him. as it was, he gasped out unintelligible words and sought to make grim understand by signs. and grim apparently did understand. "very well," he laughed, "tell me who stabbed you and i won't mention your name to staff-captain abd el kadir." "and these men? will they say nothing?" "not a word. who stabbed you?" "yussuf dakmar! may allah cut him off from love and mercy!" "golly!" exploded jeremy, forgetting not to talk english. "there's a swine for you! yussuf dakmar's the son of a sea-cook who used to sell sheep to the army four times over--drive 'em into camp and get a receipt--drive 'em out again next night--bring 'em back in the morning-- get a receipt again--drive 'em off--bring 'em back--us chaps too busy shifting brother turk to cotton on. he'll be the boy i kicked out of camp once. maybe remembers it too. i'll bet his backbone's twanging yet! lead me to him, grim, old cock, i'd like another piece of him!" but grim was humming to himself, playing piano on the bed-sheet with his fingers. "is that man not an arab?" asked the fellow in bed, taking alarm all over again. "arab your aunt!" laughed jeremy: "i eat arabs! i'm the only original genuine woolly bad man from way back! i'm the plumber who pulled the plug out of arabia! you know english? good! you know what a dose of salts is then? you've seen it work? experienced it, maybe? hah! you'll understand me. i'm a grain of the epsom salt that went through beersheba, time the turks had all the booze in sight and we were thirsty. muddy booze it was too--oozy booze--not fit for washing hogs! ever heard of anzacs? well, i'm one of 'em. now you know what the scorpion who stung you's up against! you lie there and think about it, cocky; i'll show you his shirt tomorrow morning." "suppose we go now," suggested grim. "i've got the drift of this thing. get the rest elsewhere." "you can fan that joskins for a lot more yet," jeremy objected. "the plug's pulled. he'll flow if you let him." grim nodded. "sure he would. don't want too much from him. don't want to have to arrest him. get me?" "come on then," answered jeremy, "i've promised him a shirt!" beyond the screen narayan singh stood like a statue, deaf, dumb, immovable. even his eyes were fixed with a blank stare on the wall opposite. "how much did you hear?" grim asked him. "i, sahib? i am a sick man. i have been asleep." "dream anything?" "as your honour pleases!" "hospital's stuffy, isn't it? think you could recover health more rapidly outdoors? sick-leave continued of course, but--how about a little exercise?" the sikh's eyes twinkled. "sahib, you know i need exercise!" "i'll speak to the doctor for you. in case he signs a new certificate, report to me tonight." "atcha, jimgrim sahib! atcha!" chapter iii "hum dekta hai" like most of the quarters occupied by british officers, the house occupied by major roger ticknor and his wife mabel was "enemy property," and its only virtue consisted in its being rent free. grim, jeremy, little ticknor and his smaller wife, and i sat facing across a small deal table with a stuttering oil-lamp between us. in a house not far away some orthodox jews, arrayed in purple and green and orange, with fox-fur around the edges of their hats, were drunk and celebrating noisily the feast of esther; so you can work out the exact date if you're curious enough. the time was nine p.m. we had talked the anzac hurricane-drive through palestine all over again from the beginning, taking world-known names in vain and doing honour to others that will stay unsung for lack of recognition, when one of those unaccountable pauses came, and for the sake of breaking silence, mabel ticknor asked a question. she was a little, plucky, pale-faced thing whom you called instinctively by her first name at the end of half an hour--a sort of little mother of loose-ended men, who can make silk purses out of sows' ears, and wouldn't know how to brag if she were tempted. "say, jim," she asked, turning her head quickly like a bird toward grim on my left, "what's your verdict about that man from syria that roger took in a cab to the sikh hospital? i'm out a new pair of riding breeches if roger has to pay the bill for him. i want my money's worth. tell me his story." "go ahead and buy the breeches, mabel. i'll settle that bill," he answered. "no, you won't, jim! you're always squandering money. half your pay goes to the scallywags you've landed in jail. this one's up to roger and me; we found him." grim laughed. "i can charge his keep under the head of 'information paid for.' i shall sign the voucher without a qualm." "you'd get blood out of a stone, jim! go on, tell us!" "i'm hired to keep secrets as well as discover them," grim answered, smiling broadly. "of course you are," she retorted. "but i know all roger's secrets, and he's a doctor, mind you! am i right, roger? come along! there are no servants--no eavesdroppers. wait. i'll put tea on the table, and then we'll all listen." she made tea australian fashion in a billy, which is quick and simple, but causes alleged dyspepsia cures to sell well all the way from adelaide to the gulf of carpentraia. "you'll have to tell her, jim," said jeremy. "mabel's safe as an iron roof," put in her husband. "noisy in the rain, but doesn't leak." but neither man nor woman could have extracted a story from james schuyler grim unless it suited him to tell it. mabel ticknor is one of those honest little women who carry men's secrets with them up and down the world. being confided in by nearly every man who met her was a habit. but grim tells only when the telling may accomplish something, and i wondered, as he laid his elbow on the table to begin, just what use he meant to make of mabel ticknor. he uses what he knows as other level-headed men use coin, spending thriftily for fair advantage. "that is secret," he began, as soon as mabel had dumped the contents of the billy into a huge brown teapot. "i expect narayan singh here presently. he'll have a letter with him, taken from the syrian who stabbed that man in the hospital." "whoa, hoss!" jeremy interrupted. "you mean you've sent that sikh to get the shirt of yussuf dakmar?" grim nodded. "that was my job," jeremy objected. "whoa, hoss, yourself, jeremy!" grim answered. "you'd have gone down into the bazaar like a bull into a china-shop. narayan singh knows where to find him. if he shows fight, he'll be simply handed over to the sikh patrol for attacking a man in uniform, and by the time he reaches the lock-up that letter will be here on the table between us." "all the same, that's a lark you've done me out of," jeremy insisted. "that yussuf dakmar's a stinker. i know all about him. two whole squadrons had to eat lousy biscuit for a week because that swab sold the same meat five times over. but i'll get him yet!" "well, as i was saying," grim resumed, "there's a letter in jerusalem that's supposed to be from feisul. but when feisul writes anything he signs his name to it, whereas a number is the signature on this. now that fellow sidi bin tagim in the hospital is an honest old kite in his way. he's a great rooter for feisul. and the only easy way to ditch a man like feisul, who's as honest as the day is long, and no man's fool, is to convince his fanatical admirers that for his own sake he ought to be forced along a certain course. the game's as old as adam. you fill up a man like sidi bin tagim with tales about jews--convince him that jews stand between feisul and a kingdom--and he'll lend a hand in any scheme ostensibly directed against jews. get me?" "so would i!" swore jeremy. "i'm against 'em too! i camped alongside the jordan highlanders one time when--" but we had had that story twice that evening with variations. he was balancing his chair on two legs, so i pushed him over backward, and before he could pick himself up again grim resumed. "feisul is in damascus, and the syrian convention has proclaimed him king. that don't suit the french, who detest him. the feeling's mutual. when feisul went to paris for the peace conference, the french imagined he was easy. they thought, here's another of these eastern princes who can be taken in the old trap. so they staged a special performance at the opera for him, and invited him to supper afterward behind the scenes with the usual sort of ladies in full war-paint in attendance." "shall we cut that too?" suggested mabel. "sure. feisul did! he's not that kind of moth. ever since then the french have declared he's a hypocrite; and because he won't yield his rights they've been busy inventing wrongs of their own and insisting on immediate adjustment. the french haven't left one stone unturned that could irritate feisul into making a false move." "to hell with them!" suggested jeremy, reaching for more tea. "but feisul's not easy to irritate," grim went on. "he's one of those rare men, who get born once in an epoch, who force you to believe that virtue isn't extinct. he's almost like a child in some things--like a good woman in others--and a man of iron courage all the time, who can fire arabs in the same way saladin did five centuries ago." "he looks like a saint," said jeremy. "i've seen him." "but he's no soft liver," continued grim. "he was brought up in the desert among bedouins, and has their stoical endurance with a sort of religious patience added. gets that maybe from being a descendant of the prophet." "awful sort to have to fight, that kind are," said jeremy. "they wear you down!" "so the french decided some time ago to persuade feisul's intimates to make a bad break which he couldn't repudiate." "why don't he cut loose with forty or fifty thousand men and boot the french into the sea?" demanded jeremy. "i'll make one to help him! i knew a frenchman once, who--" "we'll come to that presently," said grim. "i dare say you didn't hear of verdun." "objection sustained. hand it to 'em. they've got guts," grinned jeremy. "fire away, old top." "well, they ran foul of an awkward predicament, which is that there are some darned decent fellows among the officers of their army of occupation. there's more than a scattering of decent gentlemen who don't like dirt. i won't say they tell feisul secrets, or disobey orders; but if you want to give a man a square deal there are ways of doing it without sending him telegrams." mabel put the tea back on the kerosene stove to stew, with an extra handful of black leaves in it. grim continued: "another thing: the french are half afraid that if they take the field against feisul on some trumped-up pretext, he'll get assistance from the british. they could send him things he needs more than money, and can't get. ninety-nine per cent of the british are pro-feisul. some of them would risk their jobs to help him in a pinch. the french have got to stall those men before they can attack feisul safely." "how d'you mean--stall 'em?" demanded jeremy. "not all the british are fools--only their statesmen, and generals, and sixty percent of the junior officers and rank and file. the rest don't have to be fed pap from a bottle; they're good men. takes more than talk to stall that kind off a man they like." "you've got the idea, jeremy. you have to show them. well, why not stir up revolution here in palestine in feisul's name? why not get the malcontents to murder jews wholesale, with propaganda blowing full blast to make it look as if feisul's hand is directing it all? it's as simple as falling off a log. french agents who look like honest arabs approach the most hairbrained zealots who happen to be on the inside with feisul, and suggest to them that the french and british are allies; therefore the only way to keep the british from helping the french will be to start red-hot trouble in palestine that will keep the british busy protecting themselves and the jews. "the secret agents point out that although feisul is against anything of the sort, he must be committed to it for his own sake. and they make great capital out of feisul's promise that he will protect the jews if recognized as king of independent syria. kill all the jews beforehand, so there won't be any for him to protect when the time comes--that's the argument." mabel interrupted. "haven't you warned feisul?" she had both elbows on the table and her chin between her hands, and i dare say she had listened in just that attitude to fifty inside stories that the newspapers would scatter gold in vain to get. "i sure did. and he has sent one of his staff down here to keep an eye on things. i saw him this afternoon riding in a cab toward the jaffa gate. i said as much to that fellow in the hospital, and he was scared stiff at the idea of my recovering the supposed feisul letter and showing it to an officer who is really in feisul's confidence. that--i mean the man's fear--linked everything up." "you talk like sherlock holmes," laughed jeremy. "i'll bet you a new hat nothing comes of it." "that bet's on," grim answered. "it's to be a female hat, and mabel gets it. order an expensive one from paris, mabel; jeremy shall pay. we've lots of other information. the troops here have been warned of an intended massacre of jews. the arrival of this letter probably puts a date to it. "but it puts a date to something else on which the whole future of the near east hangs; and that means the future of half the world, and maybe the whole of it, because about three hundred million mohammedans are watching feisul and will govern themselves accordingly. india, persia, mesopotamia, egypt, all northern africa--there's almost no limit to what depends on feisul's safety; and the french can't or won't understand that." there came the sound of heavy ammunition boots outside on the stone step, followed by a cough that i believe i could recognize among a thousand. narayan singh coughs either of two ways--once, deep bass, for all's well; twice, almost falsetto, for a hint of danger. this time it was the single deep bass cough. but it was followed after half a minute by the two high-pitched barks, and grim held up a hand for silence. at the end of perhaps a minute there came from the veranda a perfect imitation of the lascar's ungrammatical, whining singsong from a fo'castle-head: "hum dekta hai!--i'm on the watch." grim nodded--to himself, i suppose, for none had spoken to him. "do you mind stepping out and getting that letter from him, ramsden? keep in the shadow, please, and give him this pistol; he may need it." so i slipped out through the screen door and spent a minute looking for narayan singh. i'm an old hunter, but it wasn't until narayan singh deliberately moved a hand to call attention to himself that i discovered him within ten feet of me. the risk of being seen from the street in case some spy were lurking out there was obvious. so i walked all the way round the house, and came and stood below him on his left hand where the house cast impenetrable shadow; but though i took my time and moved stealthily he heard me and passed me a letter through the veranda rails, accepting the pistol in exchange without comment. i could see him distinctly from that angle. his uniform on one side was torn almost into rags, and his turban was all awry, as if he had lost it in a scuffle and hadn't spared time to rewind it properly--a sure sign of desperate haste; for a male tiger in the spring-time is no more careful of his whiskers than a sikh is of the thirty yards of cloth he winds around his head. as he didn't speak or make any more movement than was necessary to pass me the letter and take the pistol, i returned the way i had come, entered by the back door, tossed the letter to grim, and crept back again to bear a hand in case of need. grim said nothing, but jeremy followed me, and two minutes later the australian and i were crouching in darkness below the veranda. this time i don't think narayan singh was aware of friends at hand. his eyes were fixed on the slightly lighter gap in a dark wall that was the garden gate but looked more like a dim hole leading into a cave. there being no other entrance that we knew of, jeremy and i doubled up on the same job, and a rat couldn't have come through without one of the three of us detecting him. if we had had our senses with us we might have realized that narayan singh was perfectly capable of watching that single narrow space, and have used our own eyes to better advantage. however, we're all three alive today, and two of us learned a lesson. it wasn't long--perhaps five minutes--before a man showed himself outside the gate, like a spectre dodging this and that way in response to unearthly impulse. once or twice he started forward, as if on the point of sneaking in, but thought better of it and retreated. once his attitude suggested that he might be taking aim with a pistol; but if that was so, he chose not to waste a shot or start an alarm by firing at a mark he couldn't see. what he did accomplish was to keep six keen eyes fixed on him. and that gave three other men their chance to gain an entrance at the rear of the wall in the garden, and creep up unawares. it was probably sheer accident that led all three of them along the far side of the house, but it was fortunate for jeremy and me, for otherwise cold steel between our shoulder-blades would likely have been our first intimation of their presence. we never suspected their existence until they gained the veranda by the end opposite to where we waited; and i think they would have done their murder if the man outside the gate hadn't lost his head from excitement, or some similar emotion and tried to make a signal to them. all three had brought up against the end window, where a shade torn in two places provided a good view into the room in which grim, mabel and the doctor were still sitting. each of them had a pistol, and their intention didn't admit of doubt. "are you there, sahib?" narayan singh whispered. but jeremy and i were aware of them almost as soon as he, and rather than make a noise by vaulting the veranda rail, we took the longer route by way of the front steps. jeremy, who was wearing sandals, kicked them off and not having to creep so carefully, moved faster. of course, the obvious question is, why didn't narayan singh shoot? i had a pistol too; why didn't i use it? well, i'll tell you. none but the irresponsible criminal shoots a man except in obedience to orders or in self-defence. you may argue that those three night-prowlers might have shot ticknor and his wife and grim through the window while we aired our superior virtue. the answer to that is, that they didn't, although that was their intention. narayan singh, already once that night in danger of his life, and a "godless, heathen sikh," as i have heard a missionary call him, pocketed the pistol i had given him before proceeding to engage, he being also a white man by the proper way of estimating such things. jeremy was first on the scene of action, with narayan singh close behind him, and i was quite a bit behind, for i tripped against the top step in my hurry. the noise i made gave the alarm, and the three arabs twisted round like cornered scorpions. i guess they couldn't see us well at first, having been staring through the torn shade into the lighted room. their pistols were cocked, but jeremy's fist landed in the nearest man's face before he could shoot, and he went crashing backwards into his friend behind, whose head disappeared for a moment through the window-pane, and the only blood shed on that occasion came from the first man's nose and the back of the second man's neck where the smashed glass slit a gash in it. the third man fired wildly at me, and missed, a fraction of a second before narayan singh landed on him with hands and feet; whereat the man in the street emptied his pistol at me and ran away. i was in two minds whether to give chase to him, but made the wrong decision, being heavy on my feet and none too fond of running, so the big fish got away. but even with my help added, the three less important fish still gave a lot of trouble, for they fought like wild cats, using teeth and finger- nails; and the doctor and his wife and grim were all out lending a hand before we had them finally convinced that the game was up. mabel trussed up the worst man with a clothes line, while i sat on him. i expected to see a crowd around the house by that time, but jerusalem works otherwise than some cities. the sound of a pistol-shot sends everybody hurrying for cover, lest some enemy accuse them afterwards of having had a hand in the disturbance. and the nearest police post was a mile away. so we had our little outrage all to ourselves, although strange tales went the rounds of the holy city that night, and two weeks later several european newspapers printed a beautiful account of a midnight massacre of jews. we dragged our prisoners into the sitting-room, and stood them up in front of grim after the doctor and mabel had attended to their hurts, which weren't especially serious; although nobody need expect to get in the way of jeremy's fist and feel comfortable for several hours afterwards. the cut made in the second man's neck by broken glass needed several stitches, but the third man was only winded from having been sat on, and of course he was much more sorry for himself than either of the other two--a fact that grim noted. there was another noticeable circumstance that shed light on human nature and grim's knowledge of it. they were all three eager to tell their story, although not necessarily the same story; whereas narayan singh, who knew that every word he might say would be believed implicitly, was in no hurry to tell his at all. now when you're dealing with eastern and near-eastern people of the sort who lie instinctively (and it may be that this applies to the west as well) it's a good plan to establish, if you can, a basis of truth for them to build their tale on; because the truth acts like acid on untruth. they're going to lie in any case; but lies told without any reference to truth knit better than when invented at a moment's notice to explain away another's straightforward statement. there's a plausible theory that culprits taken in the act are best examined in secret, one by one, in ignorance of all the evidence against them. the wise method is to let them hear the evidence against themselves. nine times out of ten they will accept that as unanswerable, and strive to twist its meaning or smother it under a mass of lies. but the truth they have accepted, as i have said, works just like acid and destroys their argument almost as fast as they build it up. in the few cases when that doesn't happen, they break down altogether and confess. anyhow, grim, who taught me what i have just written, refused to listen to their bleating until narayan singh first told in their hearing all that he knew about the night's events. they were forced to sit down on the floor and listen to him like three coffee-shop loungers being told a story; and i don't doubt that the effect was strengthened by the sikh's standing facing them, for the contrast was as between jackals and a lion. not that they were small men, for they weren't, or mere ten-dollar assassins picked up in the suk. they looked well fed, and wore fine linen, whereas narayan singh was in rags and had lost weight in our recent desert marching, so that his cheek-bones stood out and he looked superficially much more like a man at bay than they did. but their well-cared-for faces were lean in the wrong place, and puffy under the eyes. in place of courage they flaunted an insolent leer, and the smile intended to convey self-confidence betrayed to a close observer anxiety bordering on panic. the most offensive part about them really was their feet, which are indices of character too often overlooked. they had come to their task in slippers, which they had kicked off before reaching the veranda, and instead of the firm, tough feet that a real man stands on, what they displayed as they squatted were subtle, soft things, not exactly flabby, but even more suggestive of treachery than their thin beaks and shifty eyes. to sum them up, they were dandies, of the kind who join the young turk party and believe the new era can be distilled of talk and tricks; and they looked like mean animals compared to that staunch conservative narayan singh, who, nevertheless, is not without his own degree of subtlety. chapter iv "i call this awful!" sahib, in accordance with instructions i proceeded to christian street to the place you spoke of, where i found yussuf dakmar drinking coffee and smoking in company with these men and others. they did not see me in the beginning, because i entered by the door of a house threescore and five paces farther down the street; and having by that means gained the roof i descended to a gallery built of stone above one end of the coffee-shop, and there lay concealed among evil-smelling bags. "they conversed in arabic; and presently when other men had entered, some of whose names i overheard and wrote down on this slip of paper, yussuf dakmar locked the outer door, turning the great key twice and setting a chain in place as well. then he stood on a red stool having four short legs, with his back to the door that he had locked, and spoke in the manner of one who stirs a multitude, gesticulating greatly. "the argument he made was thus: he said that jerusalem is a holy city, and palestine a holy land; and that promises are all the more sacred if given in connection with religious matters; whereat they all applauded greatly. nevertheless, a little later on he mocked at all religion, and they applauded that too. he said that the allies, persuaded thereto by the british, had made a promise to the emir feisul on the strength of which the arabs made common war with the allies against the turks and germans, losing of their own a hundred thousand men and untold money. "so, sahib. next he asked them how much of that promise made by the allies to emir feisul as the leader of the arabs had been kept, or was likely to be kept; and they answered in one voice, 'none of it!' whereat he nodded, as a teacher nods gravely when the pupils have their lesson well by heart, and said presently in a voice like that of a guru denouncing sin: 'a woman's promise is a little matter; who believes it? when it is broken all men laugh. a promise extorted under threat or torture is not binding, since he who made the promise was not free to govern his own conduct; that is law. a promise made in business,' said he, 'is a contract contingent on circumstances and subject to litigation. but a promise made in wartime by a nation is a pledge set down in letters of blood. whoever breaks it is guilty of blood; and whoever fails to smite dead the breaker of that oath, commits treason against allah!' "they applauded that speech greatly, sahib, and when they grew silent he bade them look about and judge for themselves at whose door the breaking of that sacred promise really lay. 'show me,' said he, 'one trace of arab government in all palestine. who owns the land?' he asked them. 'arabs!' said they. 'yet to whom has the country been given?' he shouted. 'to the jews!' they answered; and he grew silent for a while, like a teacher whose class has only given half the answer to a question until presently one man growled out, 'to the sword with the jews in the name of allah!' and the others echoed that which satisfied him, for he smiled, nevertheless not using those words himself. and presently he continued: "'we in this room are men of enlightenment. we are satisfied to leave past and future to speculations of idle dreamers. for us the present. so we attach no value to the fact that feisul is descended in a straight line from the founder of the moslem faith; for that is a superstition as foolish in its way as christianity or any other creed. but who is there like feisul who can unite all arabs under one banner?' "they answered, sahib, that feisul is the only living man who can accomplish that, making many assertions in his praise, yussuf dakmar nodding approval as each spoke. 'yet,' said he when they had finished, 'feisul is also fallible. in certain ways he is a fool, and principally in this: that he insists on keeping his own promises to men who have broken their own promises to him.' and like pupils in a class who recite their lesson, they all murmured that such a course as that is madness. "'so,' said he, 'we are clear on that point. we are not altruists, nor religious fanatics, nor slaves, but men of common sense who have a business in view. we are not feisul's servants, but he ours. we make use of him, not he of us. if he persists in a wrong course, we must force him into the right one, for the day of autocratic government is past and the hour has come when those who truly represent the people have the first right to direct all policy. if the right is still withheld from them, they must take it. and it is we in this room who truly represent the arab cause, on whom lies the responsibility of forcing feisul's hand!' "well, sahib, these three prisoners who sit here offered, at once to go to damascus and kill the men who are advising feisul wrongly. they said that if they were given money they could easily hire damascenes to do the dagger work, there being, as the sahib doubtless knows, a common saying in these parts about damascus folk and sharp steel. whereat yussuf dakmar suddenly assumed a sneering tone of voice, saying that he preferred men for his part with spunk enough to do such work themselves, and there was an argument, they protesting and he mocking them, until at last this man, whose neck the glass cut, demanded of him whether he, yussuf dakmar, was not in truth an empty boaster who would flinch at bloodshed. "he seemed to have been waiting for just that, sahib, for he smirked and threw a chest. 'i am a man,' said he, 'of example as well as precept. i have done what i saw fit to do! i make no boasts,' said he, 'for a man who talks about himself sets others talking, and there are deeds creditable to the doer that are best not spoken of. but i will tell you other things, and you may draw your own conclusions. "'because feisul refuses to attack the french, having promised those promise-breakers that he will not; and because feisul has promised to protect the jews and is likely to try to keep that promise to the promise-breaking english, certain of his intimates in damascus, in whose confidence i am, have determined to force both issues, taking steps in his name that will commit him finally. feisul's army of fifty thousand men is as ready as it will ever be. there is no money in the damascus treasury, and therefore every moment of delay is now a moment lost. the time has come for action!'" our three prisoners were listening to the recitation spellbound, and so were we all for that matter. the mere memory feat was amazing enough. few men could listen in hiding to a stranger's words, and report them exactly after an interval of more than an hour; but narayan singh did better than that, for he reproduced the speaker's gesture and inflexion, so that we had a mental picture of the scene that he described. mabel offered him stewed tannic acid in the name of tea, and ticknor suggested a chair, but he waved both offers aside and continued as if the picture before his mind and the words he was remembering might escape him if he took things easy. "sahib, they were very much excited when he spoke of action. first one man and then another stood up and boasted of having made all things ready; how this one had supervised the hiding of sharp swords; how another had kept men at work collecting cartridges on battlefields; how this and that one had continued spreading talk against the jews, so that they swore that at least ten thousand moslems in jerusalem are fretting to begin a massacre. 'let feisul only strike the first blow from damascus,' said they, 'and palestine will run blood instantly!'" "and we sit here drinking tea," exclaimed mabel, "while up at headquarters they're dancing and playing bridge! i call this awful! we all ought to be..." grim smiled and shook his head for silence. "we've known all this for some time," he said. "don't worry. there'll be no massacre; the troops are sleeping by their arms, and every possible contingency has been provided for. go on, narayan singh." "well, sahib; when they had done babbling and boasting this yussuf dakmar got back on his stool and spoke sternly, as one who gives final judgment and intends to be obeyed. 'it is we who must make the first move,' said he; 'and we shall force feisul to move after us by moving in his name.' whereat this man here, whose nose was broken on the fist of jeremy sahib, said that a letter bearing feisul's seal would make the matter easier. 'for the men,' said he, 'who are to slit jews' throats will ask first for proof of our authority to bid them begin the business.' "and at that speech yussuf dakmar laughed with great delight. 'better late than never!' said he. 'better to think of a wise precaution now than not at all! but oh, ye are an empty-headed crew!' he told them. 'i pity the conspiracy that had no better planning than ye would make for it without my fore thought! i thought of this long ago! i sent a message to damascus, begging that a date be set and just such a letter sent to us. feisul, i knew, would sign no such letter; but the paper he uses lies on an open desk, and there are men about him who have access to his seal. and because my appeal was well-timed it met with approval. a letter such as i asked for was written on feisul's paper, sealed with his seal, and sent!' "'but does it bear his signature?' a man asked. "'how could it, since he never saw the letter?' yussuf dakmar answered. "'then few will pay heed to it,' said the other. "'perhaps if we were all such fools as you that might be so,' yussuf dakmar retorted. 'however, fortunately the rest of us have readier wits! this letter is signed with a number, and the number is that of feisul's generation in descent from the prophet mohammed. let men be told that this is his secret signature, and when they see his seal beside it, will they not believe? every hour in jerusalem, and in all the world, men believe things less credible than that!' "but at that, sahib, another man asked him how they might know that the letter really came from damascus. 'it well might be,' said that one, 'a forgery contrived by yussuf dakmar himself, in which case though they might stir many moslems into action by showing it, the men in damascus would fail to follow up the massacre by striking at the french. and if they do not strike at the french,' said he, 'the french will not appeal to the british for aid; and so the british troops will be free to protect the jews and butcher us, by which means we shall be worse off than before.' "whereat yussuf dakmar laughed again. 'if ye will go to the sikh hospital,' said he, 'ye will find there the man who brought the letter. he lies in a cot in the upper storey with a knife-wound between his shoulder-blades. it was a mistaken accident unfortunate for him; the letter was intended for me, but i did not know that. what does the life of one fool matter? he gave out that jews stabbed him, and it may be he believes that; yet i have the letter in my pocket here!' and he touched with one hand the portion of his coat beneath which was the pocket that contained the letter. i was watching, sahib, from where i lay hidden. "he was about, i think, to show them the letter, when another thought occurred to him. he wrinkled his brow, as if seeking words in which to make his meaning clear, and they seemed willing enough to wait for him, but not so i, for i now knew where the letter was. so i sprang into their midst, falling less dangerously than i might have done by reason of a man's shoulders that served for a cushion. it may be that his bones broke under my weight. i can give no accurate report as to that, for i was in great haste. but as he gave way under me, i pitched forward, and, kicking yussuf dakmar in the belly with my boot, i fell on him, they falling on me in turn and we all writhing together in one mass on the floor. so i secured the letter." "good man!" grim nodded. "wish i'd been there!" mourned jeremy. "and, having what i came for, i broke free; and taking the red stool i hurled it at the lamp, so that we were in total darkness, which made it a simple matter to unlock the door, and proceed about my business. nevertheless, i heard them strike matches behind me, and it seemed unwise to take to my heels at once, it being easy to pursue a man who runs. "as the sahib doubtless remembers, between that coffee shop and the next house is a stone buttress jutting out into the street, forming on its side farthest from the coffee-shop a dark corner, for whose filth and stink the street cleaners ought to be punished. therein i lurked, while those who pursued ran past me up the street, i counting them; and among them i did not count yussuf dakmar and three more. it happened that a man was running up the street and the pursuers supposed him to be me. so i was left with only four to deal with; and it entered my head that no doubt jimgrim sahib would be pleased to interview yussuf dakmar. "and after a few moments yussuf dakmar came forth, and i heard him speak to these three fellows. "'those fools,' said he, 'hunt like street dogs at the sound of rubbish tossed out of a window. but i think that indian soldier is less foolish than they. if i were he,' said yussuf dakmar, 'i think i wouldn't run far, with all these shadows to right and left and all the hours from now until dawn in which to act the fox. i suspect he is not far away at this minute. nevertheless,' said he, 'those indians are dangerous fellows. it is highly important that we get that letter from him; but it is almost equally important that we stop his mouth, which would be impossible if he should escape alive. if we wait here,' said he, 'we shall see him emerge from a shadow, if i am not much mistaken.' "so they waited, sahib. and after a few minutes, when my breath had returned to me, i let him have credit as a wise one by emerging as he had said. and those four stalked me through the streets, not daring to come close until i should lead them to a lonely place; and i led them with discretion to this house, where happened what the sahib knows. "that is all i know about this matter, except that being absent from duty on sick-leave there may be difficulty in the matter of my tunic, which is badly torn." having finished his story narayan singh stood at attention like one of those wooden images they used to keep on the sidewalk outside tobacco stores. grim smiled at the prisoners and asked whether they had any remarks to make--a totally lawless proceeding, for he did not caution them, and had no jurisdiction as a magistrate. they were three men caught red-handed attempting murder and burglary, and entitled accordingly to protection that the law doesn't always accord to honest men. but, as i have said, a true tale in the ears of criminals acts like a chemical reagent. it sets them to work lying, and the lie burns off, disclosing naked truth again. but, mother of me, they were daring liars! the fellow who had come out of the scrap more or less unscathed piped up for the three, the other two nodding and prompting him in whispers. "what that indian says in the main is true. he did jump down from the gallery and surprise a meeting summoned by yussuf dakmar. and it is true that yussuf dakmar's purpose is to bring about a massacre of jews, which is to be simultaneous with an attack by feisul's forces on the french in syria. but we three men are not in favour of it. we have had no part in the preparations, although we know all details. we are honest men, who have the public interest at heart, and accordingly we have spied on yussuf dakmar, purposing to expose all his plans to the authorities." jeremy began humming to himself. mabel tittered, and little doctor ticknor swore under his breath. but grim looked as if he believed them --looked pleasantly surprised--and nodded gravely. "but that hardly explains your following this indian through the streets and attacking him on the veranda," he suggested, as if sure they could explain that too--as sure enough they did. "we did not attack him. he attacked us. it was obvious to us from the first that he must be an agent of the government. so when yussuf dakmar told us to follow and murder him we decided it was time to expose yussuf dakmar, and that this was our opportunity. we knew surely that this indian would take that letter straight to some official of the government; it was only necessary to pretend to hunt him and in that manner inveigle yussuf dakmar into the toils. "but when we reached this house yussuf dakmar was afraid and refused to approach nearer than the street. he insisted on keeping watch outside the garden gate while we should draw near and shoot everyone who might be in the house and recover the letter. he is a coward, and we could not persuade him. "so we decided to pretend to do his bidding, and to whisper through the window to the people within to pass out to the street by some back way and capture him, after which we would give all our evidence to the authorities. "it was while we were looking through the window, seeking to call the attention of those within for that purpose and no other, that we were attacked and submitted to much unnecessary violence. that is the whole truth, as allah is our witness! we are honest men, who seek to uphold the law, and we claim the protection of the government. we are ready to tell all we know, including the names of those connected with this plot." chapter v "nobody will know, no bouquets" there followed a tedious hour or two, during which grim cross-examined the three "honest men," and took down lists of names from their dictation, getting doctor ticknor meanwhile to go for the police because yussuf dakmar might still be lurking in the neighbourhood for a chance to murder narayan singh. it was only after the police had carried off the prisoners to jail (where they repudiated their entire confession next morning) that grim showed us the letter which, like a spark, had fired a powder magazine--although a smaller one than its writer intended. "it isn't in feisul's handwriting," he said, holding the feathery arab script up to the lamplight; "and it's no more like his phraseology than a camel resembles a locomotive. listen to this: to the pan-arab committee in jerusalem, by favour of yussuf dakmar bey its district president, greeting in the name of god: ye know that on former occasions the foes of our land and race were overwhelmed when, relying on the aid of the most high, and raising the green banner of the prophet--on whom be peace--we launched our squadrons in a cause held sacred by us all. ye know that in that fashion, and not otherwise, the accursed conquerors were driven forth and our sacred banner was set on high over the damascus roofs, where by allah's blessing may it wave for ever! ye know how those who claimed to be our friends have since proven themselves foes, so that the independent state for which we fought is held today in ignominious subjection by aliens, who deny the true faith and hold their promises as nothing. ye know how damascus is beset by the french, and palestine is held by the british who, notwithstanding the oath they swore to us, are daily betraying us arabs to the jews. know now, then, that the hour has struck when, again in the name of allah, we must finish what we formerly began and with our true swords force these infidels to yield our country to us. nor on this occasion shall we sheathe our swords until from end to end our land is free and united under one government of our own choosing. know that this time there shall be no half-measures nor any compromise. it is written, ye shall show no quarter to the infidel. let no jew live to boast that he has footing in the land of our ancestors. leave ye no root of them in the earth nor seedling that can spring into a tree! smite, and smite swiftly in the name of him who never sleeps, who keeps all promises, whose almighty hand is ready to preserve the faithful. whereunto ye are bidden to take courage. whereunto our army of syria stands ready. whereunto the day has been appointed. know ye that the tenth day from the sending of this letter, and at dawn, is the appointed time. therefore let all make common cause for the favour of the most high which awaits the faithful. in the name of god and mohammed the prophet of god, on whom be blessings." there followed the moslem date and the numerical signature over feisul's indubitable seal. grim figured a moment and worked out the corresponding date according to our western calendar. "leaves six days," he said pleasantly. "it means the french intend to attack damascus seven days from now." "let 'em!" jeremy exploded. "feisul'll give 'em ----! all they've got are algerians." "the french have poison gas," grim answered dourly. "feisul's men have no masks." "get 'em some!" that was jeremy again. grim didn't answer, but went on talking: "they're going to get damascus. all they've waited for was poison gas, and now there's no stopping 'em. they forged this letter after the gas arrived. now if they catch feisul in damascus they'll put him on trial for his life, and they probably hope to get this letter back somehow to use as evidence against him." "go slow, jim!" mabel objected. "where's your proof that the french are jockeying this? isn't that feisul's seal?" "yes, and it's his paper. but not his handwriting." "he might have dictated it, mightn't he?" "never in those words. feisul don't talk or write that way. the letter's a manifest forgery, as i'll prove by confronting feisul with it. but there's a little oversight that should convince you it's a forgery. have you a magnifying glass, doc?" ticknor produced one in a minute, and grim held the letter under the lamp. on the rather wide margin, carefully rubbed out, but not so carefully that the indentation did not show, was the french word magnifique that had been written with a rather heavy hand and one of those hard pencils supplied to colonial governments by exporters from stocks that can't be sold at home. "that proves nothing," mabel insisted. "all educated arabs talk french. somebody on feisul's staff was asked for an opinion on the letter before it went. my husband's arab orderly told me only yesterday that a sling i made for a man in the hospital was magnifique." the objection was well enough taken, because it was the sort the forger of the letter would be likely to raise if brought to book. but grim's argument was not exhausted. "there are other points, mabel. for one thing, it's blue metallic ink. feisul's private letters are all written with indelible black stuff made from pellets that i gave him; they're imported from the states." "but if feisul wanted to prove an alibi, he naturally wouldn't use his special private ink," objected mabel. "then why his seal, and his special private notepaper? however, there's another point. feisul writes the purest kind of arabic, and this isn't that sort of arabic. it was written by a foreigner--perhaps a frenchman--possibly an armenian--most likely a turk--certainly one of the outer ring of politicians who have access to feisul and seek to control him, but are not really in his confidence. damascus is simply a network of spies of that kind--men who attached themselves to the arab cause when it looked like winning and are now busy transferring their allegiance. "i think i could name the man who wrote this; i think i know the man who wrote that magnifique. if i'm right, yussuf dakmar will notify the french tonight through their agents in jerusalem. the man who wrote that magnifique will know before morning that the letter's missing; and it doesn't matter how careful i may be, it'll be known as soon as i start for damascus. "they'll dope out that our obvious course would be to confront feisul with this letter. the only way to travel is by train; the roads are rotten--in fact, no auto could get through; they'd tip off the bedouins, who'd murder everybody. "so they'll watch the trains and especially haifa, where everyone going north has to spend the night; and they'll stop at nothing to get the letter back, for two reasons; as long as it's in our hands it can be used to establish proof of the plot against feisul; once it's back in theirs, they can keep it in their secret dossier to use against feisul if they ever catch him and bring him to trial. you remember the dreyfus case? "i shall start for damascus by the early train--probably take an auto as far as ludd. if i want to live until i reach damascus i shall have to prove conclusively that i haven't that letter with me. anyone known to be in british service is going to be suspected and, if not murdered, robbed. ramsden has been seen about too much with me. jeremy might juggle by but he's already notorious, and these people are shrewd. better hold jeremy in reserve, and the same with narayan singh. a woman's best. how about you, mabel?" "what d'you mean, jim?" "do you know a woman in haifa?" "of course i do." "well enough to expect a bed for the night at a moment's notice?" "certainly." mabel's eyes were growing very bright indeed. it was her husband who looked alarmed. "well, now, here's the point." grim leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette, not looking at anybody, stating his case impersonally, as it were, which is much the shrewdest way of being personal. "feisul's up against it, and he's the best man in all this land, bar none. they've dealt to him from a cold deck, and he's bound to lose this hand whichever way he plays it. to put it differently, he's in check, but not checkmated. he'll be checkmated, though, if the french ever lay hands on him, and then good-bye to the arab's chance for twenty years. "i propose to save him for another effort, and the only way to do that is to convince him. the best way to convince him is to show him that letter, which can't be done if feisul's enemies discover who carries it. if ramsden, jeremy, narayan singh and i start for damascus, pretending that one or other of us has the letter concealed on his person, and if a woman really carries it, we'll manage. is mabel ticknor going to be the woman? that's the point." "too dangerous, jim! too dangerous!" ticknor put in nervously. "pardon me, old man. the danger is for us four, who pretend we've got the thing." "there are lots of other women and i've only got one wife!" objected ticknor. "we're pressed for time," grim answered. "you see, ticknor, old man, you're a cornstalk and therefore an outsider--just a medico, who saws bones for a living, satisfied to keep your body out of the poorhouse, your soul out of hell, and your name out of the newspapers. your wife is presumably more so. there are several officials' wives who would jump at the chance to be useful; but a sudden trip toward damascus just now would cause any one of them to be suspected, whereas mabel wouldn't be." "i don't know why not!" ticknor retorted. "wasn't she in here when those three murderers came to finish the lot of us? if yussuf dakmar makes any report at all he'll surely say he traced the letter to this house." "yussuf dakmar came no nearer than the street," grim answered. "he has no notion who is in here. his three friends are in jail under lock and key, where he can't get at them. how long have you had this house? since yesterday, isn't it? d'you kid yourself that yussuf dakmar knows who lives here?" "i can get leave of absence. suppose i go in mabel's place?" suggested ticknor, visibly worried. "the mere fact that she goes, while you stay here, will be presumptive evidence that she isn't on a dangerous mission," grim answered. "no. it has got to be a woman. if mabel won't go i'll find someone else." you could tell by mabel's eyes and attitude that she was what the salesmen call "sold" already; but you didn't need a magnifying glass to detect that ticknor wasn't. men of his wandering habit know too well what a brave, good-tempered wife means to encourage her to take long chances; for although there are lots of women who would like to wander and accept the world's pot luck, there are precious few capable of doing it without doubling a fellow's trouble; when they know how to halve the trouble and double the fun they're priceless. grim played his usual game, which is to spank down his ace of trumps face upward on the table. most of us forget what are trumps in a crisis. "i guess it's up to you, doc," he said, turning toward ticknor. "there's nothing in it for you. feisul isn't on the make; i don't believe he cares ten cents who is to be the nominal ruler of the arabs, provided they get their promised independence. he'd rather retire and live privately. but he only considers himself in so far as he can serve the arab cause. now, you've risked mabel's life a score of times in order to help sick men in mining camps, and malaria victims and lord knows what else. here's a chance to do the biggest thing of all--" "of course, if you put it that way..." said ticknor, hesitating. "just your style too. nobody will know. no bouquets. you won't have to stammer a speech at any dinner given in your honor." "d'you want to do it, mabel?" asked ticknor, looking at her keenly across the table. "of course i do!" "all right, girl. only, hurry back." he looked hard at grim again, then into my eyes and then jeremy's. "she's in your hands. i don't want to see any of you three chaps alive again unless she comes back safe. is that clear?" "clear and clean!" exploded jeremy. "it's a bet, doc. half a mo', you chaps; that's my mine at abu kem, isn't it? i've agreed to give the thing to feisul and make what terms i can with him. jim and rammy divvy up with me on my end, if any. that right? i say; let the doc and mabel have a half-share each of anything our end amounts to." well, it took about as long to settle that business as you'd expect. the doctor and mabel protested, but it's easier to give away a fortune that is still in prospect than a small sum that is really tangible--i mean between folk who stand on their own feet. it doesn't seem to deprive the giver of much, or to strain the pride of the recipient unduly. i've been given shares in unproven el doradoes times out of number, and could paper the wall of, say, a good-sized bathroom with the stock certificates--may do it some day if i ever settle down. but the only gift of that sort that i ever knew to pay dividends, except to the printer of the gilt-edged scrip, is jeremy's gold mine; and you'll look in vain for any mention of that in the stock exchange lists. the time to get in on that good thing was that night by mabel ticknor's teapot in jerusalem. it was nearly midnight before we had everything settled, and there was still a lot to do before we could catch the morning train. one thing that grim did was to take gum and paper and contrive an envelope that looked in the dark sufficiently like the alleged feisul letter; and he carried that in his hand as he took to the street, with narayan singh following among the shadows within hail. jeremy and i kept narayan singh in sight, for it was possible that yussuf dakmar had gathered a gang to waylay whoever might emerge from the house. but he seemed to have had enough of bungling accomplices that night. grim hadn't gone fifty paces, keeping well in the middle of the road, when a solitary shadow began stalking him, and doing it so cautiously that though he had to cross the circles of street lamplight now and then neither jeremy nor i could have identified him afterward. narayan singh had orders not to do anything but guard grim against assault, for grim judged it wise to leave yussuf dakmar at large than to precipitate a climax by arresting him. he had the names of most of the local conspirators, and if the leader were seized too soon the equally dangerous rank and file might scatter and escape. down inside the jaffa gate, in a dark alley beside the grand hotel, there are usually two or three cabs standing at any hour of the night ready to care for belated christian gentlemen who have looked on the wine when it was any colour that it chanced to be. there were three there, and grim took the first one, flourishing his envelope carelessly under the corner lamp. yussuf dakmar took the next in line, and ordered the driver to follow grim. so we naturally took the last one, all three of us crowding on to the rear seat in order to watch the cabs in front. but as soon as we had driven back outside the city gate yussuf dakmar looked behind him and, growing suspicious of us, ordered his driver to let us pass. it would have been too obvious if we had stopped too, so we hid our faces as we passed, and then put jeremy on the front seat, he looking like an arab and being most unrecognizable. yussuf dakmar followed us at long range, and as the lean horses toiled slowly up the mount of olives to headquarters the interval between the cabs grew greater. by the time we reached the guard-house and answered the sikh sentry's challenge there was no sign of grim in front, and we could only hear in the distance behind us the occasional click of a loose shoe to tell that yussuf dakmar was still following. chapter vi "better the evil that we know..." yussuf dakmar had his nerve with him that night, or possibly desperation robbed him of discretion. he may have been a more than usually daring man with his wits about him, but you'd have to hunt down the valley of death before you could bring the psychoanalytic guns to bear on him for what they're worth. i can only tell you what he did, not why he did it. the great hospice that the german nation built on the crown of the mount of olives to glorify their kaiser stood like a shadow among shadows in its compound, surrounded by a fairly high wall. there was a pretty strong guard under an indian officer in the guard-house at the arched main gate where the sentry challenged us. a sentry stood at the foot of the steps under the portico at the main entrance, and there was another armed man on duty patrolling the grounds. but there were one or two other entrances, locked, though quite easy to negotiate, which the sentry could only observe while he marched toward them; for five minutes at a time, while his back was turned, at least two gates leading to official residences offered opportunity to an active man. one lone light at a window on the top floor suggested that the officer of the night might be awake, but what with the screeching of owls and a wind that sighed among the shrubs, headquarters looked and sounded more like a deserted ancient castle than the cranium and brain-cells of administration. we heard yussuf dakmar stop his cab two hundred yards away. the cabman turned his horses and drove back toward jerusalem without calling on allah to witness that his fare should have been twice what he received; he didn't even lash the horses savagely; so we supposed that he hadn't been paid, and went on to deduce from that that yussuf dakmar had driven away again, after satisfying himself that the feisul letter had reached headquarters. it was lazy, bad reasoning--the sort of superficial, smart stuff that has cost the lives of thousands of good men times out of number--four o'clock o' the morning intelligence that, like the courage of that hour, needs priming by the foreman, or the sergeant-major, or the bosun as the case may be. the sentry turned out the guard, who let us through the gate after a word with narayan singh; and the man who leaned on his bayonet under the portico at the end of the drive admitted us without any argument at all. i suppose he thought that having come that far we must be people in authority. ever since then i have believed all the stories told me about spies who walked where they chose unchallenged during wartime; for we three--a sikh enlisted man, an australian disguised as an arab, and an american in civilian clothes--entered unannounced and unwatched the building where every secret of the near east was pigeonholed. we walked about the corridors and up and downstairs for ten minutes, looking in vain for grim. here and there a servant snored on a mat in a corner, and once a big dog came and sniffed at us without making any further comment. jeremy kicked one man awake, who, mistaking him for an arab, cursed him in three languages, in the name of three separate gods, and promptly went to sleep again. the sensation was like being turned loose in the strong-room of a national treasury with nobody watching if you should choose to help yourself. there are acres of floor in that building. we walked twice the whole circuit of the upper and lower corridors, knocking on dozens of doors but getting no answer and finally brought up in the entrance hall. then it occurred to me that grim might have gone into the building by some private entrance, perhaps round on the eastern side, so we set out to look for one. we had just reached the northwest angle of the building, when narayan singh, who was walking a pace in front, stopped suddenly and held up both hands for silence. whoever he could see among the shadows must have heard us, but it was no rare thing for officers to come roistering down those front steps and along the drive hours after midnight, and our sudden silence was more likely to give alarm than the noise had been. i began talking again in a normal voice, saying anything at all, peering about into the shadows meanwhile. but it was several seconds before i made out what the sikh's keener eyes had detected instantly, and jeremy saw it before i did. there was a magnolia shrub about ten paces away from us, casting a shadow so deep that the ground it covered looked like a bottomless abyss. but nevertheless, something bright moved in it--perhaps the sheen of that lone light in an upper window reflected on a knife-hilt or a button--something that moved in time to a man's breathing. if there was a certainty in the world it was that somebody who had no right to be there was lurking in that shadow, and he was presumably up to mischief. on the other hand, i had absolutely no right in that place either. jeremy and narayan singh, being both in the british army, were liable to be disciplined, and i might be requested to leave the country, if we should happen to blunder and tree the wrong 'possum, revenge being more than usually sweet to the official disturbed in the pursuit of unauthorized "diplomacy." it might even be some clandestine love affair. so i took each of my companions by the arm, gripping jeremy's particularly tightly, and started forward, whispering an explanation after we had turned the corner of the building. "let one of us go and warn the guard," i suggested. "if we should draw that cover and start a shindy, we're more likely to get shot by the guard than thanked." so narayan singh started off for the guard-house, he being the one most capable of explaining matters to the sikh officer, and jeremy and i crept back through the shadows to within earshot of the dark magnolia tree, choosing a point from which we could see if anybody bolted. you know how some uncatalogued sense informs you in the dark of the movement of the man beside you? i looked suddenly sideways toward jeremy, knowing, although i couldn't see him, that his eyes were seeking mine. it is only the animals who omit in the darkness those instinctive daylight movements; men don't have sufficient control of themselves. we had both heard grim's voice at the same instant, speaking arabic but unmistakable. there were three men there. grim was talking to the other two. "keep your hands on each other's shoulders! don't move! i'm going to search all your pockets again. now, mr. charkian. ah! that feels like quite a pretty little weapon; mother o' pearl on the butt? have you a permit? never mind; not having the weapon you won't need a permit, will you? and papers--mashallah! what a lot of documents; they must be highly important ones since you hide them under your shirt. i expect you planned to sell them, eh? too bad! too bad! "you keep your hands on mr. charkian's shoulders, yussuf dakmar, or i'll have to use violence! i'm not sure, mr. charkian, that it wouldn't be kinder to society to send you to jail after all; you need a bath so badly. it seems a pity that a chief clerk to the administration shouldn't have a chance to wash himself, doesn't it? well, i'll have to read these papers afterward--after we've usurped the prerogative of destiny and mapped out a little of the future. now--are you both listening? do you know who i am?" there was no answer. "you, mr. charkian?" "i think you are major grim." "ah! you wish to flatter me, don't you? never mind; let us pretend i'm major grim disguised as an arab; only, i'm afraid we must continue the conversation in arabic; i might disillusion you if i tried to talk english. we'll say then that i'm major grim, disguised. let's see now... what would he do in the circumstances? here's yussuf dakmar, wanted for murder in the city and known to be plotting a massacre, seen climbing a wall when the sentry's back was turned, and caught in conference with mr. charkian, confidential clerk to the administration. i'm sorry i didn't hear all that was said at your conference, for that might have made it easier to guess what major grim would do." "don't play with us like a cat playing with a mouse!" snarled somebody. "tell us what you want. if you were major grim you'd have handed us over to those officers who passed just now. you're just as much irregular as we are. hurry up and make your bargain, or the guard may come and arrest us all!" "yes, hurry up!" complained the other man. "i don't want to be caught here; and as for those papers you have taken, if we are caught i shall say you stole them from the office--you and yussuf dakmar, and that i followed you to recover them, and you both attacked me!" "very well," said grim's voice pleasantly. "i'll let you go. i think you're dangerous. you'd better be quick, because i think i hear the guard coming!" "give me back the papers, then!" "aha! will you wait and discuss them with the guard, or go at once?" the armenian clerk didn't answer, but got up and slunk away. "why did you let that fool go?" demanded yussuf dakmar. "now he will awaken some officer and start hue and cry with a story that we robbed him. listen! there comes the guard! we had better both run!" "not so fast!" grim answered. and then he raised his voice perceptibly, as if he wished to be overheard: "i think those men who passed just now were not officers at all. perhaps they were strangers. it may be that one of them is confused, and is leading the guard in the wrong direction!" "don't make so much noise then!" retorted yussuf dakmar. jeremy, who thinks habitually about ten times as fast as i do, slipped away at once into the shadows to find narayan singh and decoy the guard elsewhere. i didn't envy him the job, for sikhs use cold steel first and argue afterward when on the qui vive in the dark. however, he accomplished his purpose. narayan singh saved his life, and the guard arrested him on general principles. you could hear both jeremy and narayan singh using grim's name freely. yussuf dakmar wasn't deaf. he gave tongue: "there! did you hear that? they are speaking of major grim. you are a fool if you wait here any longer. that fellow grim is a devil, i tell you. if he finds us we are both lost!" "we have to be found first," grim answered, and you could almost hear him smile. "quick then! what do you want?" snapped yussuf dakmar. grim's answer was the real surprise of the evening. it bewildered me as much as it astonished yussuf dakmar. "i want that letter that came from the emir feisul!" "i haven't got it! i swear i haven't!" "i know that already, for i searched you. where is it?" "ask allah! it was stolen by a sikh, who delivered it to someone in a house near the military hospital, who in turn gave it to an arab, who brought it here. i hoped that fellow charkian might steal it back again, but you have spoiled everything. charkian will turn against me now to save himself. what do you want with the letter?" "i must have it!" grim answered. "the french agent--" "what--sidi said? you know him?" "surely. he would pay me a thousand pounds for it." "may allah change his face! he only offered me five hundred!" "you have seen him already, then?" grim asked. "i don't believe you! when did you see him?" "on the way up here. he stopped my cab to speak to me at the foot of the hill." i began to see the drift of grim's purpose. he had established the fact that the french secret agent was already on the track of the letter, and that in turn explained why he had not seized yussuf dakmar and put him in jail. it was better to use the man, as the sequel proved. and yussuf dakmar walked straight into grim's trap. "what is your name?" he demanded. "call me omar," said grim. "a turk, are you? well, omar, let us help each other to get that letter, and divide the reward. sidi said told me that the british are sure to confront feisul with it, and to do it secretly if they can. they will try to send it to damascus. let us two find out who takes it, and waylay him." "why should i divide with you?" demanded grim, who is much too good an actor to pretend to agree without bargaining. "because otherwise you will not succeed. i was afraid of you when you first surprised me with charkian. but now that i know you for a spy in the pay of the french i am not afraid of you, even though you have my revolver and dagger. you dare not kill me, for i would shout for help and the guard would come. you are in danger as much as i am. so you may either agree to work with me, sharing the reward, or you may work alone and have nothing for your pains; for i shall bring accomplices to help me take the letter from you after you have stolen it!" well, i suppose that anyone with criminal intentions could submit gracefully to that much blackmail. besides, grim was rather pressed for time and couldn't afford to prolong the argument. "i see you are a determined man," he answered. "your demand is unreasonable, but i must agree to it." "then give me back my pistol!" "no. i need it. i lent mine this evening to another man, who has not yet returned it. that was a piece of wood with which i held you up just now. you must get yourself another." "they are hard to come by in jerusalem. give me mine back." "no. i shall keep it to protect myself against you." "why? you have no need to fear me if we work together." "because i intend to tell you what i know; and i may find it convenient to shoot you if you betray the information." "oh! well, tell away." "i have been cleverer than you," grim announced blandly. "i knew who had given the order to the sikh to steal that letter from you, and i was concealed in his house when the letter was brought to him. i heard the conference that followed, so i know what is going to be done about it." "oh! that was very smart. well, tell me." "three men are going to take the letter to damascus, but i don't know which of them will have it on his person. one is an arab. one is an american. the third is that same sikh who took the letter from you. they will take the train from ludd, and i have engaged myself as servant to the american." "now that was extremely clever of, you!" said yussuf dakmar. "yes," grim agreed. "but perhaps it will be as well to have an accomplice after all, and you will do as well as any. if i steal the letter they may accuse me; but if i can pass it to you, then i can submit to a search and oblige them to apologize." "true! true! that will be excellent." "so you had better take the morning train for damascus," grim continued. "but understand: if you bring others with you i shall suspect you of intending to play a trick on me. in that event i shall shoot you with your own pistol, and take my chance of escaping afterward. in fact, you are a dead man, yussuf dakmar, the minute i suspect you of playing me false." "the same to you likewise!" yussuf dakmar answered fervently. "then we understand each other," said grim. "the best thing you can do between now and train-time is to see the french agent again." "what good will that do? he is irritable--nervous; he will only ask a thousand questions." "then your visit will do all the more good. you can calm him. we don't want a horde of fools interfering with us on the journey. we want to work quietly, and to share the reward between us. therefore, you should tell him that you are confident of getting the letter if he will only leave the business to you alone. give him every assurance, and explain to him that interference may mean failure. now, i have done much the greater part so far; let this be your share to balance the account between us; you go to sidi said, the french agent, and make sure that he doesn't hinder us by trying to help." "very well, i will do that. and i shall meet you at the station in the morning?" "no. my party will go as far as ludd by motor. you will see us join the train there. go now, while the guard is out of the way." i could not see, but i heard yussuf dakmar get up and go. he had hardly time to get out of earshot when grim's voice broke the silence again: "you there, ramsden?" instead of answering i approached. "did you hear what was said?" he asked. "yes. why didn't you arrest both the blackguards and have done with it?" "better the evil that we know..." he answered, with the familiar smile in his voice. "the important thing is to sidetrack the french agent, who could put fifty ruffians on our trail instead of one." "why not send a provost-marshal's guard to the french agent, then?" "can't do that. france and great britain are allies. besides, they might retaliate by spiflicating our agent in damascus. wise folk who live in glass-houses don't throw stones. what i think has been accomplished is to reduce our probable risk down to yussuf dakmar, who's a mean squib at best; and i think we've drawn suspicion clear away from mabel ticknor. all that remains is for me to go to that room where you see the light burning and discuss matters with the chief." "if he's awake he's lonely!" said i; and i told grim of our experience inside the building. "yes," he said. "governments are all like that. they talk glibly of the ship of state; but a ship run in the same way would pile up or sink the first night out. you'd better go home and get an hour's sleep; i'll call you at seven." "we'll take turns sleeping on the train," i answered. "come first and rescue jeremy. i think the guard pinched him. say, did you intend one of us to go and decoy the guard away that time you raised your voice?" "sure. recognized your voices--yours especially--when you passed, and heard you breathe as you crept back. you nearly spoilt the game by turning out the guard, but you saved it again handsomely." "it's a marvel those sikhs didn't shoot jeremy in the dark," i answered. "you bet it is," said grim. "i guess he's too useful to be allowed to die just now." he hung his head, thinking, as we walked side by side. "that was a close shave--too close! well, as you say, let's go and rescue him." chapter vii "you talk like a madman!" grim changed the plan a little at the last minute. mabel ticknor left jerusalem by train, as agreed, but narayan singh was sent that way too, to keep an eye on her. he being a sikh, could sit in the corridor without exciting comment, and being dressed for the part of a more or less prosperous trader, he could travel first class without having to answer questions or allay suspicion. grim, jeremy and i drove to ludd in a hired auto, grim and jeremy both in arab costume, and i trying to look like a tourist. jeremy was supposed to be a travelled arab intent on guiding me about damascus for the usual consideration. the platform was crowded, and we secured a compartment in the train without calling much attention to ourselves. there were british officers of all ranks, egyptians, jews, greeks, refugee armenians, maltese, kurds, a turk or two, circassians, men from as far off as bokhara, turkomans, indians of all sorts, a sprinkling of bedouins looking not quite so at home as in their native desert, and local arabs by the score. about half of them were in a panic, encouraged to it by their shrill women-folk, fighting in a swarm for tickets at one small window, where an insolent levantine demonstrated his capacity for self-determination by making as many people as possible miss the train. i caught sight of mabel ticknor in the front compartment of our car, and grim pointed out yussuf dakmar leaning through a window of the car behind. his face was fat, unwholesome, with small, cold eyes, an immoral nose, and a small mouth with pouting lips. the tarboosh he wore tilted at an angle heightened the general effect of arrogant self-esteem. he was an illustration of the ancient mystery--how is it that a man with such a face, and such insolence written all over him, can become a leader of other men and persuade them to hatch the eggs of treachery that he lays like a cuckoo in their nests? he smirked at grim suggestively as we went by, and grim, of course, smirked back, with a sidewise inclination of the head in my direction, whereat yussuf dakmar withdrew himself, apparently satisfied. "now he'll waste a lot of time investigating you," said grim in an undertone. "we'd better keep awake in turns, or he'll knife you." "the toe of my boot to him!" i retorted. "one clean kick might solve this international affair!" "steady!" grim answered. "we need him until after leaving haifa. the french agent wired, and they'll have a gang at haifa ready for us; but yussuf dakmar will warn them off if we keep him hoping." so we settled down into our compartment after a glance to make sure that mabel was all right, and for about two minutes i imagined we were in for a lazy journey. narayan singh was on a camp-stool in the corridor, snoozing with one eye open like a faithful sheep-dog. it didn't seem possible for a creature like yussuf dakmar to make trouble for us, and i proposed that we should match coins for the first turn to go to sleep. we had just pulled our coins out, and the engineer was backing the train in order to get her started, when yussuf dakmar arrived at our door, carrying his belongings, and claimed a seat on the strength of a lie about there being no room elsewhere. there's something about a compartment on a train that makes whoever gets in first regard the rest of the world as intruders. nobody would have been welcome, but we would have preferred a pig to yussuf dakmar. jeremy, democrat of democrats, who had slept without complaining between the legs of a dead horse on a rain-swept battlefield, with a lousy turkish prisoner hugging him close to share the blanket, was up in arms at once. "imshi!" he ordered bluntly. but yussuf dakmar was delighted. the reception convinced him, if anything were needed to do that, that one of us really was guarding the secret letter; and he was one of those hogs, anyhow, who glory in snouting in where they are plainly not wanted. he took the corner seat opposite jeremy, tucked his legs up under him, produced a cigarette and smiled offensively. i'll concede this, though: i think the smile was meant to be ingratiating. he pulled out a package wrapped in newspaper and began to eat before the train had run a mile. and, you know, more men get killed because of how they eat than by the stuff they devour. if you don't believe that, try living in camp for a week or two with a man who chews meat with his mouth open. you'll feel the promptings of a murderer. i know a scientist who swears that the real secret of the cain and abel story is that abel sucked his gums at mealtime. "you ought to be buried up to the neck and fed with a shovel!" jeremy informed him in blunt english after listening to the solo for a while. "aha! that is the way they used to treat criminals in persia," he answered pleasantly, with his mouth full of goat's milk cheese. "only they put plaster of paris in the hole, and when it rained the wretched man was squeezed until the blood came out of his mouth and eyes, and he died in agony. but how comes it that you speak to me in english? if we are both arabs, why not talk the mother tongue?" "my rump is my rump and the land is its rulers," jeremy answered in arabic, quoting the rudest proverb he could think of on the spur of the moment. "ah! and who is its ruler? who is to be its ruler?" yussuf dakmar made a surreptitious face at grim, and his little cold eyes shone like a hungry pariah dog's. it began to be interesting to watch his opening gambit. "i have heard tales," he went on, "of a new ruler for this country. what do you think of feisul's chance?" as he said that he eyed me sideways swiftly and keenly. grim sat back in his own corner and folded up his legs, watching the game contentedly. jeremy, intercepting yussuf dakmar's glance, put his own construction on it. he is a long, lean man, but like the fat boy in pickwick papers he likes to make your flesh creep, and humor, to have full zest for him, has to be mischievous. so he commenced by pulling out his weapons one by one. the first was a razor, which he sharpened, tested with his thumb suggestively, and then placed in his sock, studying yussuf dakmar's throat for a minute or so after that, as if expecting to have to use the razor on it presently. as the effect of that wore off he pulled out a pistol. it was one of the kind that won't go off unless you pull the hammer back, but yussuf dakmar didn't know that, and if he had flesh and blood capable of creeping it's a safe assertion that they crept. jeremy acted as if he didn't understand the weapon, and for fifteen minutes did more stunts with it than a puppy can do with a ball of twine. one of them that interested yussuf dakmar awfully was to point the pistol straight ahead, half-cocked, and try to get the hammer down by slapping it with the palm of his hand. most of our baggage was on the floor, but one fairly heavy valise was in the rack over yussuf dakmar's head. jeremy got up to examine it when the pistol had ceased to amuse him, and taking advantage of a jerk as the train slowed down, contrived to drop it into the syrian's lap; who rather naturally swore; whereat jeremy took offence, and accused him of being a descendant of hanna, son of manna, who lived for a thousand and one years and never enjoyed himself. it was our turn to eat sandwiches after that, while yussuf dakmar recovered from his disgruntlement. but just before the meal was finished jeremy revived the game by asking suddenly in an awestruck whisper where "it" was. he slapped himself all over in a hurry, feeling for hidden pockets, and then came over and pretended to search me. there wasn't anything to do but fall in with his mood, so i resisted, searched my own pockets reluctantly, and said that we might as well take the next train back, since we had lost the important document. before we started we had put into a wallet the fake envelope that grim had carried in his hand the previous night, and had entrusted the wallet to jeremy in order to have an alibi ready for mabel in case of need. grim took up the cudgels now and reminded me respectfully, as a servant should when speaking to his master, that i had taken all proper precautions and could not be blamed in any event. "but i think it will be found," he said hopefully. "inshallah, it is not lost, but in the wallet in the pocket of that hare-brained friend of yours." so jeremy went back to his corner, searched for the wallet, found it after pretty nearly, standing on his head to shake his clothes, examined it excitedly, and produced the fake envelope, flourishing it so violently that nobody, even with eyes like a hawk's, could have identified it with certainty. then he dropped it in among the baggage on the floor, and went down on his knees to pick it up again. there is no more finished expert at sleight of hand than he, so it vanished, and he swore he couldn't find it. in a well-simulated agony of nervousness he called on yussuf dakmar to get down and help him search, and the syrian hadn't enough self-command left to pretend to hesitate; his cold eyes were nearly popping from his head as he knelt and groped. the chief subject of interest to me just then was how he proposed to retain the letter in the unlikely event of his finding it first. it was a ridiculous search, because there wasn't really anywhere to look. after three bags had been lifted and their bottoms scrutinized the whole floor of the compartment lay naked to the eye, except where my feet rested. jeremy insisted on my raising them, to the accompaniment of what he considered suitable comment on their size, turning his "behind end" meanwhile toward yussuf dakmar. grim chuckled and caught my eye. yussuf dakmar had walked straight into temptation, and was trying to search jeremy's pockets from the rear--no easy matter, for he had to discover them first in the loose folds of the arab costume. suddenly jeremy's mood changed. he became suspicious, stood up, resumed his seat--and glared at yussuf dakmar, who retired into his corner and tried to seem unconscious of the game. "i believe you are a thief--one of those light-fingered devils from el-kalil!" said jeremy suddenly, after about three minutes' silence. "i believe you have stolen my letter! like the saint's ass, you are a clever devil, aren't you? nevertheless, you are like a man without fingernails, whose scratching does him no good! your labour was in vain. give me back the letter, or by allah i will turn you upside down!" yussuf dakmar denied the accusation with all the fervour that a blackguard generally does use when, for once, he is consciously innocent. "by the beard of the prophet and on my honor i swear to you that i haven't touched your letter! i don't know where it is." "show me the prophet's beard!" commanded jeremy. "show me your honor!" "you talk like a madman! how can i show either?" "then how can you swear by them? father of easy words and evil deeds, give me the letter back!" yussuf dakmar appealed to me as presumably responsible for jeremy. "you saw, effendi, didn't you? i tried to help him. but he who plays with the cat must suffer her claws, so now he accuses me of stealing. i call you to witness that i took nothing." "you must excuse him," i answered. "that is a highly important letter. if it isn't found the consequences may be disastrous." "by allah, it shall be found!" exploded jeremy, glaring harder than ever at yussuf dakmar. "look at his face! look at his evil eyes! he came in here on purpose to spy on us and steal that letter! it is time to use my razor on him! i swear not by the prophet's beard or anybody's honor, but by the razor in my sock that he has the letter and that i will have it back!" well, that was a challenge there was no side-stepping. sure of being able to prove innocence, yussuf dakmar decided that a bold course was the best. he proceeded to empty his own pocket, laying the contents on the seat before jeremy's eyes. and jeremy watched like a puzzled puppy with his brow wrinkled. the process took time, because he was wearing one of those imitation western suits, of prehistoric cut but up-to-date with every imaginable pocket that a tailor could invent. their contents included a dagger and a clasp-knife with a long blade sharpened on both edges, but no pistol. "now are you satisfied?" he demanded, after turning inside-out the two "secret" pockets in the lining of his vest. "less than ever!" jeremy retorted. "until i see you naked i will not believe you!" yussuf dakmar turned to me again. he was a patient spy, if ever there was one. "do you think i should be put to that indignity?" he asked. "shall i undress myself?" "by allah, unless you do it i will cut your clothes off with my razor!" jeremy announced. we drew up at a station then, and had to wait until the train went on again. by that time yussuf dakmar had made up his mind. he slipped off his jacket and vest and began to unfasten his collar-button as the train gained speed. everything went smoothly until he stood up to remove his pants. he had the top of them in both hands when jeremy seized him suddenly by the elbows and spun him face about. and there the letter lay, face downward on the seat he had just left, bent and a little crinkled in proof that he had been sitting on it for some minutes past. now it doesn't make any difference whether a man meant to take off his trousers or not. in a crisis, if they are unfastened, he will hold them up. it's like catching a monkey; you put corn into a narrow-necked basket. the monkey inserts his arm, fills his hand with corn, and tries to pull it out, but can't unless he lets go of the corn, which he won't do. so you catch him. yussuf dakmar held up his pants with one hand, and tried to free himself from jeremy with the other. if he had let go his pants he might have seized the envelope and discovered what a fake it was; but he wouldn't do that. it was i who pounced on it and stowed it away carefully in my inner pocket. yussuf dakmar's emotions were poignant and mixed, but he was no quitter. he thought he knew definitely where the letter was now, and the wolf glance with which he favoured me changed swiftly to a smile of ingratiating politeness. "i am glad you have recovered what you lost," he said, smiling, as he fastened up his pants and resumed his coat. "this friend of yours--or is he your servant?--made me nervous with his threats, or i should certainly have found it for you sooner." and now grim resumed a hand. the last thing he wished was that yussuf dakmar should consider his quest too difficult, for then he would probably summon assistance at haifa. encouragement was the proper cue, now that jeremy had tantalized him with a glimpse of the bait. we had nothing to fear from him unless he should lose heart. "the value of a sum lies in the answer," he said, quoting one of those copybook proverbs with which all syrians love to clinch an argument. "the letter is in its owner's pocket. the accuser should now apologize, and we can spend the rest of the journey pleasantly." jeremy proceeded to apologize: "so you're not such a thief as you looks." then he provided entertainment. he drew out the razor and did stunts with it, juggling it with open blade from hand to hand--pretending to drop it and always catching it again within a fraction of an inch of yussuf dakmar's person. by and by he juggled with coins, match-box, cigars, razor and anything he could lay his hands on. "mashallah!" exclaimed the syrian at last, his face all sweaty with excitement as he shrank back to avoid the spinning razor. "where did you learn such accomplishments?" "learn them?" answered jeremy, still juggling. "i am a dervaish. i was born, not taught. i can ride through the air on cannon-balls, and whatever i wish for is mine the next minute. look, i have one piastre. i wish for twenty. what do i do? i spin it in the air--catch it--d'you hear them? there you are--twenty! count 'em if you like." "a dervaish? a holy person? you? where do you come from?" "i was born in the belly of the south wind," answered jeremy. "where i come from, every shell-fish has a pearl in it and gold is so common that the cattle wear it in their teeth. i can talk three languages at once and swear in six, use sulphur for tobacco, eat sardines without opening the can, and flavour my food for choice with gun-powder. "i've been everywhere, seen everything, heard all the lies, and i found that big effendi in jerusalem. i saw him first. he calls himself ramsden, which is derived from the name of a creature bearing wool, which in turn is a synonym for money. he's on his way to supply feisul with money, and i'm going to show him the streets of damascus. anything else you want to know?" "supply feisul with money? that is interesting. american money perhaps? an american banker by any chance?" "nothing to do with chance. he's a father of certainties. didn't he give me that letter to keep, and didn't i find a safe place for it between you and the cushions? yes, i put it there. i'm an honest man, but i have my reasonable doubts about this other fellow. ramsden effendi found him somewhere, and engaged him as a servant without asking me. perhaps he's honest. only allah knows men's hearts. but he hasn't got an honest face like yours, and when pay-day comes i shall hide my money." "so you know damascus?" answered yussuf dakmar. "i hope you will come and see me in damascus. i will give you my address. if ramsden effendi has only engaged you temporarily, perhaps i can show you a way to make money with those accomplishments of yours." "make money?" answered jeremy, prattling away like a madman. "i am weary of the stuff. i'm hunting the world over, in search of a friend. nobody loves me. i want to find someone who'll believe the lies i tell him without expecting me to believe the truth he tries to foist on me. i want to find a man as tricky with his brains as i am with my hands. he must be a politician and a spy, because i love excitement. that's why i called you a spy. if you were one, you might have admitted it, and then we could have been friends, like two yolks in one eggshell. but i see you're only a shell without a yolk in it. who cleaned you?" "how long have you been in the service of ramsden effendi?" yussuf dakmar asked him. "not long, and i am tired of it. he is strong, and his fist is heavy. when he gets drunk he is difficult to carry upstairs to bed, and if i am also drunk the feat is still more difficult. it is a mystery how such a man as he should be entrusted with a secret mission, for he drinks with anyone. aha! he scowls at me because i tell the truth about him, but if i had a bottle of whisky to offer him he would soon look pleasant again, and would give me a drink too, when he had swallowed all he could hold." if he had really been my servant i would naturally have kicked him off the train for a fraction of such impudence. i didn't exactly know what to do. there is a thoughtful motive behind every apparently random absurdity that jeremy gets off, but i was uncomfortably conscious of the fact that my wits don't work fast enough to follow such volatile manoeuvres. perhaps it's the scotian blood in me. i can follow a practical argument fast enough, when the axioms' are all laid down and we're agreed on the subject. however, grim came to my rescue. he had his pencil out, and contrived to flick a piece of paper into my lap unseen by yussuf dakmar. jeremy's cue is good [the note ran]. dismiss him for talking about you to a stranger. trust him to do the rest. so i acted the part of an habitually heavy drinker in a fit of sudden rage, and dismissed jeremy from my service on the spot. "very well," he answered blandly. "allah makes all things easy. let us hope that other fellow finds it easy to put you to bed tonight! allah is likewise good, for i have my ticket to damascus, and all i need to beg for is a bed and food at haifa." i muttered something in reply about his impudence, and the conversation ceased abruptly. but at the end of ten minutes or so yussuf dakmar went out into the corridor, signaling to jeremy to follow him. chapter viii "he'll forgive anyone who brings him whiskey." you remember, of course, that line that shakespeare put into the mouth of puck? "what fools these mortals be!" the biggest fools are the extra smart ones, whose pride and peculiar joy it is to "beat the game." yussuf dakmar assessed all other humans as grist for his mill. character to him was expressed in degrees of folly and sheer badness. virtue existed only as a weakness to be exploited. the question that always exercised him was, wherein does the other fellow's weakness lie? it's a form of madness. where a sane man looks for strength and honesty that he can yoke up with, a yussuf dakmar spies out human failings; and whereas most of us in our day have mistaken pyrites for fine gold, which did not hurt more than was good for us, he ends by mistaking gold for dross. you can persuade such a man without the slightest difficulty that you are a fool and a crook. jeremy had turned the trick for his own amusement as much as anything, although his natural vein of shrewdness probably suggested the idea. yussuf dakmar, ready to believe all evil and no good of anyone, was convinced that he had to deal with a scatter- brained arab who could be used for almost any purpose, and jeremy's riotous bent for jumping from one thing to another fixed the delusion still more firmly. but lord, he had caught a tartar! outside at the end of the corridor, in full view, but out of earshot, of narayan singh, yussuf dakmar made a proposal to jeremy that was almost perfect in its naive obliquity. there was nothing original or even unusual about it, except the circumstances, time and place. green-goods men and blue-sky stock salesmen, race-course touts and sure-thing politicians get away with the same proposition in the u.s. every day of the week, and pocket millions by it. only, just as happens to all such gentry on occasion, yussuf dakmar had the wrong fish in his net. he jerked his head toward where narayan singh sat stolid and sleepy- looking on a camp-stool with his curly black beard resting on the heel of one hand. "do you know that man?" he asked. "wallah! how should i know him?" jeremy answered. "he looks like a hindu thinking of reincarnation. inshallah, he will turn into a tiger presently!" "beware of him! he is an administration spy. he is watching me talk to you, and perhaps he will ask you afterward what i have said. you must be very careful how you answer him." "i will tell him you asked me for a love-potion for the engine-driver's wife," jeremy answered. "i am listening. what is it you are really going to say?" "that master of yours--that ramsden, who dismissed you so tyrannically just now--" "that drunkard? there is nothing interesting to be said about him," jeremy answered. "he is a fool who has paid my fare as far as damascus. may allah reward him for it!" "are you telling me the truth?" demanded yussuf dakmar, fixing his eyes sternly on jeremy's. your con man never overlooks a chance to put his intended victim on the defensive at an early stage in the proceedings. "how can he have paid your fare as far as damascus? this line only goes to haifa, where you have to change trains and buy another ticket." "i see you are a clever devil," jeremy retorted. "may allah give you a belly ache, if that is where you keep your brains! it was i who bought the tickets. the fool gave me sufficient money for three first-class fares all the way to damascus, and i have the change. he forgot that when he dismissed me." "then you won't need to beg board and lodging in haifa?" "oh, yes. i need my money for another matter. it is high time i married, and a fellow without money has to put up with any toothless that nobody else will take." "so you hope to find a wife in damascus?" "inshallah," jeremy answered piously. "well, i will find you a good-looking girl for wife, provided you first prove that you will make a good son-in-law. i take men as i find them, not as they represent themselves. he who wishes for the fire must first chop wood. you understand me?" "wallah! i can chop wood like an axe with two heads. is the woman your daughter?" "that is as may be. let us talk business. i reward my friends, but woe betide the fool who betrays my confidence!" said yussuf dakmar darkly. "i see you are a man after my own heart," answered jeremy; "a thorough fellow who stops at nothing! good! allah must have brought us two together for an evil purpose, being doubtless weary of the league of nations; unbosom! i am like a well, into which men drop things and never see them any more." "you are a fine rascal, i can see that clearly! so you think that allah is cooking up evil, do you? tee-hee! that is an original idea, and there may be something in it. let us hope there is something in it for us two, at all events. now, as to that fellow ramsden--" "avoid him unless he is drunk," advised jeremy. "the weight of his fist would drive a man like you like a nail into a tree." "who fears such an ox?" the syrian retorted. "a fly can sting him; a little knife can bleed him; a red rag can enrage him; and the crows who devour that sort of meat won't worry as to whether he was killed according to ritual! he has money for feisul, has he? well, never mind. he has a letter as well, and that is what i want. will you get it for me?" "do you need it badly?" "by allah, i must have it!" "by allah, then i am in good luck, for that makes me indispensable, doesn't it? and an indispensable man can demand what he pleases!" "not at all," yussuf dakmar answered, frowning. "i have taken a fancy to you, or i would see you to the devil. when we reach haifa, ten or even twenty men will present themselves to do this business for me. or, if i choose, i can use that fellow omar who is travelling with ramsden; he would like to be my accomplice, but i don't trust him very much." "in that you are perfectly right," answered jeremy. "he is not at all the sort of man for you to trust. it wouldn't surprise me to learn that he has warned ramsden against you already! better beware of him!" according to jeremy's account of the conversation afterward, it was not until that moment that he saw clearly how to prevent yussuf dakmar from calling in thugs to attack me either at haifa or at some point between there and damascus. until then he had been feeling his way along-- "spieling," as he calls it--keeping his man interested while he made all ready for the next trick. "to tell you the truth," he went on, "omar isn't that fellow's real name. he is a sharp one, and he is after the letter every bit as much as you are." "how do you know that?" "wallah, how not? because he himself told me! just like you, he tried to get me into partnership. he offered me a big reward, but he's not like you, so i didn't believe him; and he has no daughter; i've no use for a man who hasn't a good-looking daughter. what he's afraid of is that someone else may get the letter first. and he's a desperate fellow. he told me his intentions and whether you believe me or not, they're worthy of a wolf!" "i'm glad i resolved to take you into my confidence," said yussuf dakmar, nodding. "go on; i'm listening. tell me what he told you." "he plans to get hold of the letter between haifa and damascus. he thinks that's safest, because it's over the border and there won't be any british officers to interfere. somewhere up the lebanon valley, after most of the passengers have left the train, looks good to him. but i think he knows who you are." "yes, he knows me. go on." "and he's afraid you'll get help and forestall him. so he's going to watch ramsden like a cat watching a mouse-hole, and he's going to watch you too. and if anybody tries to interfere at haifa, or if men get on the train between haifa and damascus who look like being accomplices of yours, he's going to murder ramsden there and then, seize the letter, and make a jump for it! you see, he's one of those mean fellows--a regular dog-in-the-manger; he'd rather get caught by the police and hanged for murder than let anybody else get what he's after. oh, believe me, i didn't trust him! i laughed when he made his proposal to me." "now that is very interesting," said yussuf dakmar. "to tell you the truth i had a little experience with him last night myself. he came on me by accident in a certain place, and we conversed. i pretended to agree with him for the sake of appearances, but i formed a very poor opinion of him. well, suppose we put him out of the way first; how would that be? you look like a strong man. suppose you watch for an opportunity to push him off the train?" "oh, that would never do!" jeremy answered, shaking his head from side to side. "you mustn't forget that indian who sits in the corridor. it was you yourself who told me he is an administration spy. if he suspects you already, he will suspect me for having talked with you, and will watch me; and if i try to push that fellow omar off the train, he will come to the rescue. surely you don't expect me to fight both of them at once! besides, you must consider ramsden. "that fellow ramsden is big and strong, but he is a nervous wreck. give him the least excuse and he will yell for the police like a baby crying for its mother! he looks on omar as his bodyguard now that he has dismissed me; and if omar should get killed, or disappear between here and haifa, ramsden would demand an escort of police. in fact, i think he'd lose courage altogether and put that letter in a strong-room in the haifa bank. what is the letter, anyway? what's in it? how much will you pay me if i get it for you?" "never mind what's in it. will you get it, that's the point--will you get it and bring it to me?" "that isn't the point at all," answered jeremy. "the point is how much will you pay me if i do that?" "very well, i will pay you fifty pounds." "mashallah! you must need it awfully badly. i could have been hired for fifty shillings to do a much more dangerous thing!" "well, twenty-five pounds ought to be enough. i will pay you twenty- five." "nothing less than fifty!" jeremy retorted. "i always get fifty of everything. fifty lashes in the jail--fifty beans at meal-time--fifty pairs of boots to clean for ramsden--fifty is my lucky number. i have made forty-nine attempts to get married, and the next time i shall succeed. if it isn't the woman's lucky number too, that's her affair. show me the fifty pounds." "i haven't that much with me," answered yussuf dakmar. "i will pay you in damascus." "all right. then i will give you the letter in damascus." "no, no! get it as soon as possible." "i will." "and give it to me immediately. then if you like you can stay close to me until i pay you in damascus." "'the ass is invited to a wedding to carry wood and water, and they beat him with one of the sticks he carried,'" jeremy quoted. "no, no, no! i will get the letter, for i know how. after i have it you may keep close to me until we reach damascus. i will show it to you, but i won't give it to you until after i get the fifty pounds." "very well, since you are so untrustful." "untrustful? i am possessed by a demon of mistrust! why? because i know i am not the worst person in the world, and what i can think of, another might do. now, if you were i and i were you, which god forbid, because i am a happy fellow and you look bilious, and you stole the letter for me because i promised to pay you in damascus, but wouldn't give me the letter until i paid you, do you know what i would think of doing? i would promise a few tough fellows ten pounds among them to murder you. thus i would get the letter and save forty pounds." "ah? but i am not that kind of man," said yussuf dakmar. "well, you will learn what kind of man you are in the next world when you reach the judgment seat. what is most interesting now is the kind of fellow i am. i will steal the letter from ramsden, and keep it until you pay me in damascus. but i shan't sleep, and i shall watch you; and if i suspect you of making plans to have me robbed or murdered i shall make such a noise that everybody will come running, and then i shall be a celebrity but they'll put you in jail." "very well; you steal the letter, and i'll keep close to you," said yussuf dakmar. "but how are you going to do it, now that ramsden has dismissed you from his service?" "oh, that's easy. you get me some whisky and i'll take it to him for a peace offering. he'll forgive anyone who brings him whisky." "tee-hee! that is quite an idea. yes. now--how can i get whisky on the train? if only i could get some! i have a little soporific in a paper packet that could be mixed with the whisky to make him sleep soundly. wait here while i walk down the train and see what i can find." yussuf dakmar was gone twenty minutes, and whether he begged, bought or stole did not transpire, but he returned with a pint flask containing stuff that looked and smelt enough like whisky to get by if there had been a label on the bottle. he poured a powder into it in jeremy's presence, the two of them squatting on the floor of the corridor with the bottle between them so that no one else might see what was taking place. "now, you would better get rid of that fellow omar while you attend to this," yussuf dakmar cautioned him. "can you think of any way of doing that?" "oh, easily!" jeremy answered. "he is a great one for the women. i will tell him there is a pretty armenian girl in the car behind. he will run like any other turk to have a good look at her." "very well. i will wait here. but understand now; i am a dangerous man. you have fortune in one hand, but destruction in the other!" "very well; but this may take me an hour, and if you grow impatient, and that indian sees you peering into the compartment after having watched you and me talking all this time, he'll grow suspicious." "all right; i'll go to the car behind. as soon as you have the letter, come and tell me." so jeremy came back and entertained grim and me with a burlesque account of the interview, after whispering to narayan singh to give the alarm in the event of yussuf dakmar returning forward to spy on us. grim put the doped whisky into his valise after a sniff at it, instead of throwing it out of the window at my suggestion; and after a suitable interval he went out in the part of the turk to look for the imaginary beautiful armenian. then i gave jeremy the fake letter back, and went to sleep. so it's no use asking me what the country looks like between ludd and haifa. i didn't even wake up to see the lake of tiberias, sea of galilee, or bahr tubariya, as it is variously called. a rather common sickness is what sir richard burton called holylanditis and i've had it, as well as the croup and measles in my youth. some folk never recover from it, and to them a rather ordinary sheet of water and ugly modern villages built on ruins look like the pictures that an opium smoker sees. the ruins and the history do interest me, but you can't see them from the train, and after a night without sleep there seemed to me something more profitable in view than to hang from a window and buy fish that undoubtedly had once swum in galilee water, but that cost a most unrighteous price and stank as if straight from a garbage heap. the whole train reeked of putrid fish when we reached haifa in the evening, in time to watch the sun go down across the really glorious bay of acre. chapter ix "the rest will be simple!" haifa was crowded with syrians of all sorts, and there were two or three staff officers in the uniform of feisul's army lounging on the platform, who conned new arrivals with a sort of childlike solicitude, as if by looking in a man's face they could judge whether he was friendly to their cause or not. mabel had wired to her friend, and was met at the station, so we had nothing to worry over for the present on her score. our own troubles began when we reached the only hotel and found it crowded. the proprietor, a little wizened, pockmarked arab in a black alpaca jacket and yellow pants, with a tarboosh balanced forward at a pessimistic angle, suggested that there might be guests in the hotel who would let us share their beds... "although there will be no reduction of the price to either party in that event," he hastened to explain. it was a wonder of an hotel. you could smell the bugs and the sanitary arrangements from the front-door step, and although the whole place had been lime-washed, dirt from all over the near east was accumulating on the dead white, making it look leprous and depressing. the place fronted on a main street, with its back toward the bay of acre at a point where scavengers used the beach for a dumping place. there was a hostel of british officers about a mile away, where grim might have been able to procure beds for the whole party; but i noticed no less than five men who followed us up from the station and seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on yussuf dakmar and it was a sure bet that if we should show our hands so far as to mess with british officers, the train next day would be packed with men to whom murder would be simple amusement. yet grim and jeremy needed sleep and so did narayan singh. we offered to rent an outhouse for the night--a cellar--the roof, but there was nothing doing, and it was yussuf dakmar at last who solved the problem for us. he found a crony of his, who had occupied for several days a room containing two beds. with unheard-of generosity, accompanied, however, by a peculiar display of yellow teeth and more of the jaundiced whites of his eyes than i cared to see, this individual offered to go elsewhere for the night and to place the room at my disposal. "but there is this about it," he explained. "where i am going there is no room for my friend yussuf dakmar bey, so i must ask you to let him share this with you. you and he could each have a bed, of course, but it seems to me that your servants look wearier than you do. i suggest then that you take one bed, effendi, and share it with my friend yussuf dakmar bey, leaving the other to your servants, who i hope will be suitably grateful for the consideration shown them." grim nodded to me from behind the syrians' backs, and i jumped at the offer. payment was refused. the man explained that he had the room by the week and the loan of it to me for one night would cost him nothing. in fact, he acted courteously and with considerable evidence of breeding, merely requesting my permission to lock the big closet where he kept his personal belongings and to take the key away with him. even if we had been in a mood to cavil it would have been difficult to find fault, for it was a spacious, clean and airy room--three characteristics each of which is as scarce as the other in that part of the world. the beds stood foot to foot along the right wall as you entered. against the opposite wall was a cheap wooden wash-stand and an enormous closet built of olive wood sunk into a deep recess. the thing was about eight feet wide and reached to the ceiling; you couldn't tell the depth because he locked it at once and pocketed the key, and it fitted into the recess so neatly that a knife-blade would hardly have gone into the crack. outside the bedroom door, in a lobby furnished with odds and ends, was a wickerwork sofa that would do finely for narayan singh, and that old soldier didn't need to have it pointed out to him. without word or sign from us he threw his kit on the floor, unrolled his blankets, removed his boots, curled up on the sofa, and if he didn't go to sleep at once, gave such a perfect imitation of it that somebody's fox terrier came and sniffed him, and, recognizing a campaigner after his own wandering heart, jumped on his chest and settled down to sleep too. as soon as our host had left the room, all bows and toothy smiles, jeremy with his back to me drew from one pocket the letter he was supposed to have stolen from me, flourished it in yussuf dakmar's face, and concealed it carefully in another. then a new humorous notion occurred to him. he pulled it out again, folded it in the pocket wallet in which he had carried it from the first, wrapped the whole in a handkerchief, which he knotted carefully and then handed it to me. "effendi," he said, "you are a fierce master and a mighty drunkard, but a man without guile. keep that till the morning. then, if omar wants to steal it he will have to murder you instead of me, and i would rather sleep than die. but you must give it back at dawn, because the prayers are in it that a very holy ma'lim wrote for me, and unless i read those prayers properly tomorrow's train will come to grief before we reach damascus." he acted the part perfectly of one of those half-witted, wholly shrewd mountebanks, who pick up a living by taking advantage of tolerance and good nature. you've all seen the type. it's commonest at race-meetings but you'll find it anywhere in the world where vagrant men of means foregather. again yussuf dakmar's face became a picture of suppressed emotion. i pocketed the wallet with the same matter-of-fact air with which i have accepted a servant's money to keep safe for him scores of times. he believed me to be a drunkard, who had been thoroughly doped that day and would probably drink hard that night to drown the after-taste. it ought to be easy to rob me while i slept. any fool could have read his thoughts. he came down and ate supper with us at a trestle table in the dimly lighted dining-room, and i encouraged his new-born optimism by ordering two bottles of whisky to take upstairs. jeremy, who can't be happy unless playing his part for all it's worth, became devoutly religious and made a tremendous fuss because ham was put on the table. he accused the proprietor of using pig's fat to smear all the cooking utensils, demanded to see the kitchen, and finally refused to eat anything but leban, which is a sort of curds. if yussuf dakmar had entertained suspicions of jeremy's real nationality they were all resolved by the time that meal was finished. but the five' men who had followed us from the station sat in the dark at a table in the far corner of the room and watched every move we made. when the coffee was brought i sat smoking and surly over it, as if my head ached from the day's drink; grim and jeremy, aching for sleep but refusing like good artists to neglect a detail of their part, went to another table and played backgammon, betting quarrelsomely; and at last one of the five men walked over and touched yussuf dakmar's shoulder. at once he followed all five of them out of the room, whereat grim and jeremy promptly went to bed. it was so obviously my turn to stay awake that grim didn't even trouble to remind me of it. so i took the whisky upstairs, noticed that narayan singh was missing from the couch where he had gone to sleep, although the fox-terrier was snoring so loud in his blankets that i had to look twice in the dim light. i mentioned that fact to grim who merely smiled as he got between the sheets. then i went down to the street to get exercise and fresh air. i didn't go far, but strode up and down in front of the hotel a quarter of a mile or so in each direction, keeping in the middle of the street. i had made the fourth or fifth turn when narayan singh came out and accosted me under the lamplight. "pardon," he called aloud in english, "does the sahib know where i can find a druggist's open at this hour? i have a toothache and need medicine." "come and i'll show you a place," said i with the patronizing air of a tourist showing off his knowledge, and we strode along together down the street, he holding one hand to his jaw. "thus and so it happened, sahib," he began as soon as we had gone a safe distance. "i lay sleeping, having kept my belly empty that i might wake easily. there came yussuf dakmar and five men brushing by me, and they all went into a room four doors beyond the sahib's. the room next beyond that one is occupied by an officer sahib, who fought at el-arish alongside my battalion. between him and me is a certain understanding based on past happenings in which we both had a hand. he is not as some other sahibs, but a man who opens both ears and his heart, and when i knocked on his door he opened it and recognized me. "'well?' said he. 'why not come and see me in the morning? "'sahib,' said i, 'for the sake of el-arish, let me in quickly, and close the door!' "so he did, wondering and not pleased to be disturbed by a sikh at such an hour. and i said to him: "'sahib,' said i, 'am i a badmash? a scoundrel?' "'no,' said he, 'not unless you changed your morals when you left the service.' "said i, 'i am still in the service.' "'good,' said he. 'what then?' "'i go listening again in no-man's land,' said i, and he whistled softly. 'is there not a roof below your window?' i asked him, and he nodded. "'then let me use it, sahib, and return the same way presently.' "so he threw back the shutter, asking no more questions, and i climbed out. the window of the room where yussuf dakmar and the five were stood open, but the lattice shutter was closed tight, so that i could stand up on the flat roof of the kitchen and listen without being seen. and, sahib, i could recognize the snarl of yussuf dakmar's voice even before my ear was laid to the open lattice. he was like a dog at bay. the other five were angry with him. they were accusing him of playing false. they swore that a great sum could be had for that letter, which they should share between them. said a voice i did not recognize: 'if the french will pay one price they will pay another; what does money matter to them, if they can make out a case against feisul? will they not have syria? the thing is simple as twice two,' said he. 'the huntsman urges on the hounds, but unless he is cleverer than they, who eats the meat? the french regard us as animals, i tell you! very well; let us live up to the part and hunt like animals, since he who has the name should have the game as well; and when we have done the work and they want booty let them be made aware that animals must eat! we will set our own price on that document.' "'and as for this yussuf dakmar,' said another man, 'let him take a back seat unless he is willing to share and share alike with us. he is not difficult to kill!' "and at that, sahib, yussuf dakmar flew into a great rage and called them fools of complicated kinds. "'like hounds without a huntsman, ye will overrun the scent!' said he; and he spoke more like a man than any of them, although not as a man to be liked or trusted. 'who are ye to clap your fat noses on the scent i found and tell me the how and whither of it? it may be that i can get that letter tonight. surely i can get it between this place and damascus; and no one can do that, for i, and i only, know where it is. nor will i tell!' and they answered all together, 'we will make you tell!' "but he said, 'all that ye five fools can do is to interfere. easy to kill me, is it? well, perhaps. it has been tried. but, if so, then though ye are jackals, kites and vultures all in one with the skill of chemists added, ye can never extract secret knowledge from a dead man's brain. then that letter will reach feisul tomorrow night; and the french, who speak of you now as of animals, will call you what? princes? noblemen?' "i suppose they saw the point of that, sahib, for they changed their tone without, however, becoming friendly to yussuf dakmar. thieves of that sort know one another, and trust none, and it is all a lie, sahib, about there being any honor among them. fear is the only tie that binds thieves, and they proceeded to make yussuf dakmar afraid. "there seems to be one among them, sahib, who is leader. he has a thin voice like a eunuch's, and unlike the others swears seldom. "this father of a thin voice accepted the situation. he said: "'well and good. let yussuf dakmar do the hunting for us. it is sufficient that we hunt yussuf dakmar. two of us occupy the room next to ramsden's. if yussuf dakmar needs aid in the night, let him summon us by scratching with his nails on the closet door. the rest will be simple. there are four in this besides us five; so if we count yussuf dakmar that makes ten who share the reward. shall yussuf dakmar grow fat, while nine of us starve? i think not! let him get the letter, and give it to me. we will hide it, and i will deal with the french. if he fails tonight, let him try again tomorrow on the train. but we five will also take that train to damascus, and unless that letter is in my hands before the journey's end, then yussuf dakmar dies. is that agreed?' "all except yussuf dakmar agreed to it. he was very angry and called them leeches, whereat they laughed, saying that leeches only suck enough and then fall off, whereas they would take all or kill. they made him understand it, taking a great oath together to slay him without mercy unless he should get the letter and give it to them before the train reaches damascus tomorrow evening. "well, sahib, he agreed presently, not with any effort at good grace, but cursing while he yielded. "in truth, sahib, it is less fear than lack of sleep that yussuf dakmar feels. i could hear him yawn through the window lattice. now a man in that condition is likely to act early in the night for fear that sleep may otherwise get the better of him, and the sahib will do well to be keenly alert from the first. i shall be asleep on that couch outside the door and will come if called, so the sahib would better not lock the door but should call loud in case of need, because i also have been long awake and may sleep heavily." "suppose i walk the streets all night?" said i. "wouldn't that foil them?" "nay, sahib, but the reverse; for if yussuf dakmar should miss you after midnight he would go in search of you, with those five in turn tracking him. and as for finding you, that would be a simple matter, for every night thief and beggar waiting for the dawn would give attention to such a big man as you and would report your movements. all six would come on you in the dark and would kill you surely. then, as if that were not bad enough, having searched you they would learn that the letter in your possession is not the right one; and the trail of the right one would be that much easier to detect." "then come with me," said i, "and we'll make a night of it together. you and i can defend ourselves against those six." "doubtless, sahib. but my place is within hail of jimgrim. no, it is best that you see this matter through tonight between four walls. only remember, sahib, that though a man on duty may feign sleep, it is wiser not to, because sleep steals on us unawares!" so i returned to the bedroom where grim and jeremy were snoring a halleluja chorus; but yussuf dakmar hadn't returned yet. i took advantage of the syrian's absence to open grim's valise, remove the bottle of doped whisky and set it on the table close to the window beside the two bottles that i had bought downstairs--one of which, for the sake of appearances, i opened just as yussuf dakmar entered, smiling to conceal anxiety. chapter x "you made a bad break that time" grim was in mephistophelian humor. he can sleep cat-fashion, for sixty seconds at a time, with all his wits about him in the intervals, and likes to feel in the crook of his own forefinger the hidden hair-trigger of events. i don't think jeremy was awake when i first entered the room, although it suited grim's humor that he should be presently; but you would have sworn they were both unconscious, judging by the see-saw, bass and baritone snoring. i poured out whisky, drank a little of it grouchily, and watched yussuf dakmar into bed. he didn't take many of his clothes off and even by candle-light you could see the shape of the knife concealed under his shirt. he sat cross-legged on the bed, presumably praying, and as i didn't like the look of him i blew out the candle. instantly, pinched and prompted by james schuyler grim, jeremy sat up and yammered profanely at the darkness, vowing he couldn't see to sleep without a light in the room. i tinkled a tumbler against a whisky bottle, and jeremy instantly swore that he heard burglars. sitting up and whirling his pillow he knocked yussuf dakmar off the bed on to the floor. so i lit the candle again, after emptying my glass of whisky into a spittoon; whereat jeremy quoted the koran about the fate of drunkards and, getting out of bed, apologized to yussuf dakmar like a courtier doing homage to a king. "your honor was born under a lucky star," he assured him. "i usually shoot or stab, but the pillow was the first thing handy." the syrian had hard work to keep his temper, for he had fallen on the haft of the hidden knife and it hurt him between two ribs, where a poorly conditioned man is extra sensitive. however, he mumbled something and crawled between the sheets. then grim vowed that he couldn't sleep with a light so i blew out the candle, and in about two minutes the steady seesaw snoring resumed. i took the opportunity to empty half the contents of a whisky bottle into the spittoon, and after lighting a pipe proceeded to clink a tumbler at steady intervals as evidence of debauch well under way. except for the clink and bump of the tumbler, and once when i filled and relit the pipe, all was quiet for half an hour, when yussuf dakmar piped up suddenly and asked me whether i didn't intend to come to bed. "i will not trouble you, effendi. i will keep over to my side. there is plenty of room in the bed for the two of us." as he spoke i heard a movement of the bedclothes as grim pinched jeremy awake again. i answered before jeremy could horn in. "hic! you 'spect me 'nto bed full o' snakes? never sleep 'slong as venomous reptiles waiting! hic! you stay 'n bed an keep 'em 'way from me!" well, jeremy didn't want any better cue than that. he got up, lit the candle and explained to me with great wealth of arabic theosophy that the snakes i saw were mere delusions because allah never made them; and i tried to look utterly drunk, staring at him with dropped jaw and droopy eyelids, knocking an empty bottle over with my elbow by way of calling attention to it. "get into bed, effendi," jeremy advised me, feeding the cue back, since i was in the middle of the stage. "not into that bed!" i answered, shaking my head solemnly. "that f'ler put snakes in on purpose. why's he sober when i'm drunk? i won't sleep in bed with sober man. let him get drun' too, an' both see snakes. then i'll sleep with him!" jeremy's roving eye fell on the small doped bottle that i had taken from grim's valise. looking preternaturally wise, he walked over to yussuf dakmar's bed, sat down on it with his back toward me and proceeded to unfold a plan. "allah makes all things easy," he began. "it is lawful to take all precautions to confound the infidel. we shall never get that drunkard to bed as long as there's any whisky, so let's encourage him to drink it all. when it's gone he'll sleep on the floor and we'll get some peace. it's a good chance for us to drink whisky without committing sin! we needn't take much--just one drink each, and then he'll swallow the rest like a hog to prevent our getting any more. you look as if a glass of whisky would do you good. that fellow omar is asleep and won't see us, so nobody can tell tales afterwards. it's a good opportunity. come on!" i had sat so that yussuf dakmar couldn't see what i was doing and poured out the liquor in advance, arranging the glasses so that yussuf dakmar would take the doped stuff--a perfectly un-christian proceeding, i admit. christians are scarce when you get right down to cases. most of us in extremity prefer shakespeare's adage about hoisting engineers. it gets results so much more quickly than turning the other cheek. at any rate, i own up. yussuf dakmar, smirking in anticipation of an easy victory, took the nearest tumbler and tossed off the contents in imitation of jeremy's free and easy air; and the drug acted as swiftly as the famous "knock- out-drops" they used to administer in the new york tenderloin. he knew what had happened before he lost consciousness, for he tried to give the alarm to his friends. he lay on the floor opening and shutting his mouth, and i think he believed he was shouting for help; but after a minute or two you could hardly detect his breathing, and his face changed colour as if he had been poisoned. grim didn't even trouble to get out of bed, but listened without comment to my version of narayan singh's report, and jeremy went back to sleep chuckling; so i held a silent wake over yussuf dakmar, keeping some more of the doped whisky ready in case he should look like recovering too soon. i even searched him, finding nothing worthy of note, except that he had remarkably little money. i expect the poor devil was a penny ante villain scheming for a thousand-dollar jackpot. i felt really sorry for him and turned him over with my boot to let him breathe better. a little before dawn i awakened grim and jeremy and we left the room quietly after i had scratched on the closet door with my fingernails. pausing outside to listen, we heard the closet door being opened stealthily from the far side. i caught grim's eye, thinking he would smile back, but he looked as deadly serious as i have ever seen him. "you made a bad break that time," he said when we had gone downstairs. "never give away information unless you're getting a return for it! if you'd left yussuf dakmar to scratch that door after he recovered consciousness, he'd have invented a pack of lies to tell his friends, and they'd have been no wiser than before. now they'll know he never scratched it. they'll deduce, unless they're lunatics, that someone overheard their conference last night and knew the signal. that'll make them desperate. they'll waste no more time on finesse. they'll use violence at the first chance after the train leaves haifa." "rammy's like me; he hates not to have an audience for his tricks," put in jeremy by way of consolation. "we've got to stage a new play, that's all," said grim. "i'd have the lot of them arrested, but all the good that would do would be to inform the man higher up, who'd tip off another gang by wire to wait for us over the border. say, suppose we all three bear this in mind: no play to the gallery! that's where secret service differs from other business. applause means failure. the better the work you do, the less you can afford to admit you did it. you mustn't even smile at a man you've scored off. half the game is to leave him guessing who it was that tripped him up. the safest course is to see that someone else gets credit for everything you do." "consume your own smoke, eh?" suggested jeremy. "that and more," grim answered. "you've got to work like hell for what'll do you no good, because the moment it brings you recognition it destroys your usefulness. you mayn't even amuse yourself; you have to let the game amuse you, without turning one trick for the sake of an extra smile; most of the humor comes in anyhow, from knowing more than the other fellow thinks you do. the more a man lies the less you want to contradict him, because if you do he'll know that you know he's lying and that's giving away information, which is the unforgivable sin." "golly!" exclaimed jeremy. "your trade wouldn't suit me, jim! when doing tricks, it's good to watch folks' eyes pop open. what tickles my wish-bone is what i can see for myself on their silly faces, half of 'em trying to look as if they know how it's done and the other half all grins. i did tricks for a scotchman once, who got so angry i thought he'd hit me; he said, what i did was impossible, so i did it again and he still said it was impossible, and he ended by calling me a 'puir dementit men.' that was my apogee; i've never reached that height since, not even when i first made a camel say prayers at abu keen and the arabs hailed me as a prophet! bread's good, but it's better with the butter on it right side up!" "not in this game, it isn't," answered grim. "if your bread seems smeared with butter that's a sure sign it's dangerous. for god's sake, as long as you stay in the game with me don't play to the gallery, either of you! let's order breakfast." it was the longest lecture and expression of opinion i had ever listened to from james schuyler grim, and though i've turned it over in my mind a great deal since, i can't discover anything but wisdom in it. i believe he told jeremy and me the secret of power that morning. chapter xi "they are all right!" there was no competition for seats on the damascus train that morning. several of the window-panes were smashed, there were bullet-marks and splinters on the woodwork everywhere--no need to ask questions. but i found time on the platform to chat with some british officers while keeping an eye lifting for yussuf dakmar and his friends. "damascus, eh? you'll have a fine journey if you get through alive. nine passengers were shot dead in the last train down." "no law up there, you know. feisul's army's all concentrated for a crack at the french (good luck to 'em! no, i'm not wishing the french any particular luck this trip). nobody to watch the bedouins, so they take pot shots at every train that passes, just for the fun of it." "may be war, you know, at any minute. the french are sure to make a drive for the railway line--you'll be hung up indefinitely--commandeered for an ambulance train--shot for the sake of argument--anything at all, in fact. they say those algerian troops are getting out of hand--paid in depreciated francs and up against the high cost of debauchery. you're taking a chance." "wish i could go. haven't seen a healthy scrap sinze zeitun ridge. hey! hullo! what's this? lovely woman! well, i'll be!" it was mabel ticknor, followed by the six men i was watching for, yussuf dakmar looking sulky and discouraged in their midst, almost like a prisoner, and the other five wearing palpably innocent expressions. "lord!" remarked the officer nearest me. "that gang's got the wind up! look at the color of their gills! booked through, i'll bet you, and been listening to tales all night!" the gang drew abreast just as another officer gave tongue to his opinion. they couldn't help hearing what he said; he had one of those voices that can carry on conversation in a boiler foundry. "there's more in this than meets the eye! she's not a nurse. she don't walk like a missionary. i heard her buy a ticket for aleppo. can you imagine a lone, good-looking woman going to aleppo by that train unless she had a laissez passe from the french? she's wearing french heels. i'll bet she's carrying secret information. look! d'you see those two arabs in the train?" he pointed out grim and jeremy, who were leaning from a window. "they tipped her off to get into the compartment next ahead of them. d'you see? there she goes. she was for getting into the coach ahead. they called her back." almost all the other cars were empty except that one, but, whether because humans are like sheep and herd together instinctively when afraid, or because the train crew ordered it, all six compartments of the middle first-class car were now occupied, with mabel ticknor alone in the front one. nevertheless, yussuf dakmar and four of his companions started to climb in by the rear door. the sixth man lingered within earshot of the officers, presumably to pick up further suggestions. so i got in at the front end and met them halfway down the corridor. "plenty of room in the car behind," i said abruptly. they were five to one, but yussuf dakmar was in front, and he merely got in the way of the wolves behind him. the sixth man, who had lingered near the officers, now entered by the front end as i had done and called out that there was plenty of room in the front compartment. "there's only a woman in here," he said in arabic. and he set the example by taking the seat opposite to mabel. it would have been easy enough to get him out again, of course. not even the polyglot train crew would have allowed arabs to trespass without her invitation. the trouble was that jeremy, grim, narayan singh and i all rushed to her rescue at the same minute, which let the cat out of the bag. it was doctor ticknor's statement in jerusalem about not wanting to see any of us alive again if we failed to bring his wife back safe that turned the trick and caused even grim to lose his head for a moment. when a sikh, two obvious arabs and an american all rush to a woman's assistance before she calls for help, there is evidence of collusion somewhere which you could hardly expect a trained spy to overlook or fail to draw conclusions from. it was all over in a minute. the rascal left the compartment, muttering to himself in arabic sotto voce. i caught one word; but he looked so diabolically pleased with himself that it didn't really need that to stir me into action. i take twelves in boots, with a rather broad toe, and he stopped the full heft of the hardest kick i could let loose. it put him out of action for half a day, and remains one of my pleasantest memories. his companions had to gather him up and help him pulley-hauley fashion into the car ahead, while an officious ticket-taker demanded my name and address. i found in my wallet the card of a u.s. senator and gave him that, whereat he apologized profoundly and addressed me as "colonel"--a title with which he continued to flatter me all the rest of the journey except once, when he changed it to "admiral" by mistake. grim went back into our compartment and laughed; and none of the essays i have read on laughter--not even the famous dissertation by josh billings--throw light on how to describe the tantalizing manner of it. he laughs several different ways: heartily at times, as men of my temperament mostly do; boisterously on occasion, after jeremy's fashion; now and then cryptically, using laughter as a mask; then he owns a smile that suggests nothing more nor less than kindness based on understanding of human nature. but that other is a devil of a laugh, mostly made of chuckles that seem to bubble off a hell-brew of disillusionment, and you get the impression that he is laughing at himself--cynically laying bare the vanity and fallibility of his own mental processes--and forecasting self-discipline. there is no mirth in it, although there is amusement; no anger, although immeasurable scorn. i should say it's a good safe laugh to indulge in, for i think it is based on ability to see himself and his own mistakes more clearly than anybody else can, and there is no note of defeat in it. but it is full of a cruel irony that brings to mind a vision of one of those old medieval flagellant priests reviewing his sins before thrashing his own body with a wire whip. "so that ends that," he said at last, with the gesture of a man who sweeps the pieces from a board, to set them up anew and start again. "luckily we're not the only fools in asia. those six rascals know now that mabel and we are one party." "pooh!" sneered jeremy. "what can the devils do?" "not much this side of the border at deraa," grim answered. "after deraa pretty well what they're minded. they could have us pinched on some trumped-up charge, in which case we'd be searched, mabel included. no. we've played too long on the defensive. deraa is the danger-point. the telegraph line is cut there, and all messages going north or south have to be carried by hand across the border. the french have an agent there who censors everything. he's the boy we've got to fool. if they appeal to him this train will go on without us. "ramsden, you and narayan singh go and sit with mabel in her compartment. jeremy, you go forward and bring yussuf dakmar back here to me; we'll let him have that fake letter just before we reach deraa, taking care somehow to let the other five know he has it. they won't discover it's a fake until after leaving deraa--" "why not?" i interrupted. "what's to prevent their opening it at once?" "two good reasons: for one, we'll have narayan singh keep a careful eye on them, and they'll keep it hidden as long as he snoops around; for another, they'll be delighted not to have to let the french agent at deraa into the secret, because of the higher price they hope to get by holding on. they'll smuggle it over the border and not open it until they feel safe." "yes, but when they do look at it ..." said i. "we'll be over the border, and they can't send telegrams to anywhere." "why not?" "an arab government precaution. if station agents all along the line were allowed to send telegrams every seditious upstart would take advantage of it and they'd have more trouble than they've got now. but i warn you fellows, after deraa--somewhere between the border and damascus--there'll be a fight. the minute they discover that the letter is a fake they'll come for the real one like cats after a canary." "let 'em come!" smiled jeremy, but grim shook his head. "i've been making that mistake too long," he answered. "no defensive tactics after we leave deraa! we'll start the trouble ourselves. you watch, after deraa the train crew will play cards in the caboose and leave allah to care for the passengers." "there's only one thing troubles me," said jeremy. "what's that?" "narayan singh got yussuf dakmar's shirt night before last. i've had it in for yussuf ever since we anzacs went hungry on account of him. anyone who scuppers him has got me to beat to him. he's my meat, and i give you all notice!" it isn't good to stand between an anzac and the punishment he thinks an enemy deserves. "all the same," grim answered, smiling, "i'll bet you don't get him, jeremy." "i'll bet you. how much?" "mind you, when the game begins, you have a free hand," grim went on. "all right," answered jeremy, who loves freak bets, ''if i get him you quit the army soon as this job's done, and join up with rammy and me: if i don't i'll stay and help you on the next job." "that's a bet," said grim promptly. so jeremy went forward to play at being traitor, while narayan singh and i kept mabel company. she fired questions at us right and left for twenty minutes, which we had to answer in detail instead of straining our cars to catch what grim and jeremy might be saying to yussuf dakmar in the next compartment. whatever they did say, they managed to prolong the interview until within ten minutes of deraa, when the syrian returned to his companions smiling smugly and narayan singh strode after him, to stand in the corridor and by ostentatiously watching them prevent their examining the letter. grim and jeremy, all grins, joined us at once in mabel's compartment. "did you see the devil smirk as he went off with it?" asked jeremy. "golly, he thinks we're fools! the theory is that we two had betrayed you, rammy, and swapped the letter against his bare promise to pay us in damascus. he chucked in a little blackmail about sicking his mates on to murder us if we didn't come across, and i tell you we fairly love him! lordy, here's deraa! if they open the thing before the train leaves, grim says the lot of us are to bolt back across the border, send mabel home to her husband, and continue the journey by camel. that right, grim?" grim nodded. it was mabel who objected. "i'm going to see this through," she answered. "guess again, boys! my hair's gone gray. you owe me a real adventure now, and i won't give up the letter till you've paid!" we had one first-class scare when the train drew up in the squalid station, where the branch line to haifa meets the main hedjaz railway and the two together touch a mean town at a tangent; for a french officer in uniform boarded the train and stalked down the corridors staring hard at everyone. he asked me for a passport, which was sheer bluff, so i asked him in turn for his own authority. he smiled and produced a rubber stamp, saying that if i wished to visit beirut or aleppo i must get a vise from him. "je m'em bien garderai!" i answered. "i'm going to see my aunt at damascus." "and this lady? is she your wife?" i laughed aloud--couldn't help it. all the old testament stories keep forcing themselves on your memory in that land, and the legend of abraham trying to pass his wife off as his sister and the three-cornered drama that came of it cropped up as fresh as yesterday. there was no need that i could see to repeat the patriarch's mistake, any more than there was reasonable basis for the frenchman's impertinence. "is that your business?" i asked him. "because," he went on, smiling meanly, "you speak with an american accent. it is against the law to carry gold across the border, and americans have to submit to personal search, because they always carry it." "show me your authority!" i retorted angrily. "oh, as for that, there is a customs official here who has full authority. he is a syrian. it occurred to me that you might prefer to be searched by a european." "call his bluff!" grim whispered behind his sleeve, but i intended to do that, anyway. "bring along your syrian," said i, and off he went to do it, treating me to a backward glance over his shoulder that conveyed more than words could have done. "he'll bluff sky-high," said grim, "but keep on calling him." "i've been searched at six frontiers," said mabel. "if it's a syrian i don't much mind; you boys all come along, and he'll behave himself. they're much worse in france and italy. hadn't one of you better take the letter, though? no! i was forgetting already! i won't part with it. i'll take my chance with the syrian; he'll only ask me to empty my pockets and prove that i haven't a bag full of gold under my skirt. sit tight, all, here he comes!" the frenchman returned with a smiling, olive-complexioned syrian in tow --a round-faced fellow with blue jaws as dark as his serge uniform. the frenchman stood aside and the syrian announced rather awkwardly that regulations compelled him to submit mabel and me to the inconvenience of search. "for what?" said i. "for gold," he answered. "it is against the law to smuggle it across the border." "i've only one gold coin," i said, showing him a u.s. twenty-dollar piece, and his yellow eyes shone at sight of it. "if it will save trouble you may have it." i put it into his open palm with the frenchman looking on, and it was immediately clear that that particular syrian official was no longer amenable to international intrigue. he was bought and sold--oozy with gratitude--incapable of anything but wild enthusiasm for the u.s.a. for several hours to come. "i have searched them!" said he to the french officer. "they have no gold, and they are all right." the french have faults like the rest of us, but they are quicker than most men to recognize logic. the man with crimson pants and sabre grinned cynically, shrugged his shoulders, and passed on to annoy somebody easier. chapter xii "start something before they're ready for it!" just before the train started, a handsome fellow with short black beard trimmed into a point and wearing a well-cut european blue serge suit, but none the less obviously an arab, came to the door of our compartment and stared steadily at grim. he stood like a fighting man, as if every muscle of his body was under command, and the suggestion was strengthened by what might be a bullet scar over one eye. if that fellow had asked me for a loan on the spot, or for help against his enemies, he would have received both or either. moreover, if he had never paid me back i would still believe in him, and would bet on him again. however, after one swift glance at him, grim took no notice until the train was under way--not even then in fact, until the man in blue serge spoke first. "oh, jimgrim!" he said suddenly in a voice like a tenor bell. "come in, hadad," grim answered, hardly glancing at him. "make yourself at home." he tossed a valise into the rack, and i gave up the corner seat so that he might sit facing grim, he acknowledging the courtesy with a smile like the whicker of a sword-blade, wasting no time on foolish protest. he knew what he wanted--knew enough to take it when invited--understood me, and expected me to understand him--a first-class fellow. he sat leaning a little forward, his back not touching the cushion, with the palms of both hands resting on his knees and strong fingers motionless. he eyed mabel ticknor, not exactly nervously but with caution. "any news?" asked grim. "jimgrim, the world is full of it!" he answered in english with a laugh. "but who are these?" "my friends." "your intimate friends?" grim nodded. "the lady as well?" grim nodded again. "that is very strong recommendation, jimgrim!" grim introduced us, giving jeremy's name as jmil ras. "hah! i have heard of you," said hadad, staring at him. "the australian who wandered all over arabia? i am probably the only arab who knew what you really were. do you recall that time at wady hafiz when a local priest denounced you and a sheik in a yellow kuffiyi told the crowd that he knew you for a prophet? i am the same sheik. i liked your pluck. i often wondered what became of you." "put it here!" said jeremy, and they shook hands. for twenty minutes after that hadad and jeremy swapped reminiscences in quick staccato time. it was like two gatling guns playing a duet, and the score was about equally intelligible to anyone unfamiliar with arabia's hinterland--which is to say to all except about one person in ten million. it was most of it greek to me, but grim listened like an operator to the ticking of the morse code. it was hadad who cut it short; jeremy would have talked all the way to damascus. "and so, jimgrim, do the kites foregather? or are we a forlorn hope? do we go to bury feisul or to crown him king?" "how much do you know?" grim answered. "hah! more than you, my friend! i come from europe--london--paris-- rome. i stopped off in deraa to listen a while, where the tide of rumour flows back and forth across the border. the english are in favour of feisul, and would help him if they could. the french are against him and would rather have him a dead saint than a living nuisance. the most disturbing rumour i have heard was here in deraa, to the effect that feisul sent a letter to jerusalem calling on all moslems to rise and massacre the jews. that does not sound like feisul, but the french agent in deraa assured me that he will have the original letter in his hands within a day or two." grim smiled over at mabel. "you might show him the letter?" he suggested. so mabel dug down into the mysteries beneath her shirtwaist and produced the document wrapped in a medical bandage of oiled silk. hadad unwrapped it, read it carefully, and handed it to grim. "are you deceived by that?" he asked. "does feisul speak like that, or write like that? since when has he turned coward that he should sign his name with a number?" "what do you make of it?" asked grim. "hah! it is as plain as the ink on the paper. it is intended for use against feisul, first by making the british suspicious of him, second by providing the french with an excuse to attack him, third by convicting him of treachery, for which he can be jailed or executed after he is caught. what do you propose to do with it, jimgrim?" "i'm going to show it to feisul." "good! i, too, am on my way to see feisul. perhaps the two of us together can convince him what is best." "if we two first agree," grim answered with a dry smile. "do you agree that two and two make four? this is just as simple, jimgrim. feisul cannot contend with the french. the financiers have spread their net for syria, feisul has no artillery worth speaking of-- no gas--no masks against gas, and the french have plenty of everything except money. syria has been undermined by propaganda and corruption. let feisul go to british territory and thence to europe, where his friends may have a chance to work for him. the british will give him mesopotamia, and after that it will be up to us arabs to prove we are a nation. that is my argument. are we agreed?" "if that's your plan, hadad, i'm with you!" grim answered. "then i also am with you! let us shake hands." "shwai shwai!" (go slow!) said grim. "better join up with me in damascus. there are six men in the car ahead who'll try to murder us all presently. they've got a letter that they think is that one. the minute they find out we've fooled them there'll be ructions." "i am good at ructions!" hadad answered. "my friend narayan singh is forward watching them," said grim. "what they'll probably try when they make the discovery will be to have the lot of us arrested at some wayside station. i propose to forestall them." "i am good at forestalling!" said hadad. "then don't you forestall me!" laughed jeremy. "the fellow with a face like a pig's stern is yussuf dakmar, and he's my special preserve." "i am a good moslem. i refuse to lay hand on pig," said hadad, smiling. we discussed feisul and the arab cause. "oh, if we had lawrence with us!" exclaimed hadad excitedly at last. "a little, little man--hardly any larger than mrs. ticknor--but a david against goliath! and would you believe it?--there is an idiotic rumour that lawrence has returned and is hiding in damascus! the french are really disturbed about it. they have cabled their foreign office and received an official denial of the rumour; but official denials carry no weight nowadays. out of ten frenchmen in syria, five believe that lawrence is with feisul and if they can catch him he will get short shrift. but, oh, jimgrim--oh, if it were true! wallahi!" grim didn't answer, but i saw him look long at jeremy, and then for about thirty seconds steadily at mabel ticknor. after that he stared out of the window for a long time, not even moving his head when a crowd of bedouins galloped to within fifty yards of the train and volleyed at it from horseback "merely out of devilment," as hadad hastened to assure us. we were winding up the lebanon valley by that time. carpets of flowers; green grass; waterfalls; a thatched hut to the twenty square miles, with a scattering of mean black tents between; every stone building in ruins; goats where fat kine ought to be; and a more or less modern railway screeching across the landscape, short of fuel and oil. that's lebanon. we grew depressed. then silent. our meditations were interrupted by the sudden arrival of narayan singh in the door of the compartment, grinning full of news. "they have opened the letter, sahib! they accuse yussuf dakmar of deceiving them. they threaten him with death. shall i interfere?" "any sign of the train crew?" grim asked. "nay, they are gambling in the brake-van." grim looked sharply at hadad. "what authority have you got?" "none. i am a personal friend of feisul, that is all." "well, we'll pretend you've power to arrest them. ramsden, you've suddenly missed your letter. you've accused jeremy of stealing it. he has confessed to selling it to yussuf dakmar. go forward in a rage and demand the letter back. start something before they're ready for it! we'll be just behind you." "leave yussuf dakmar to me!" insisted jeremy. "i pay the debt of an anzac division!" i hope i've never hurt a man who didn't deserve it, or who wasn't fit to fight; but i have to admit that grim didn't need to repeat the invitation. i started forward in a hurry, and jeremy elbowed narayan singh aside in order to follow next, australians being notoriously unlady-like performers when anybody's hat is in the ring. by the time i reached the car ahead the train had entered a wild gorge circle by one of those astonishing hairpin curves with which engineers defeat nature. the panting engine slowed almost to a snail's pace, having only a scant fuel ration with which to negotiate curve and grade combined. to our right there was a nearly sheer drop of four hundred feet, with a stream at the bottom boiling among limestone boulders. but there was no time to study scenery. from the middle compartment of the car there came yells for help and the peculiar noise of thump and scuffle that can't be mistaken. men fight in various ways, lord knows, and the worst are the said-to-be civilized; but from nome to cape town and all the way from china to peru the veriest tenderfoot can tell in the dark the difference between fight and horseplay. i reached the door of the compartment in time to see three of them (two bleeding from knife-wounds in the face) force yussuf dakmar backward toward the window, the whole lot stabbing frantically as they milled and swayed. the fifth man was holding on to the scrimmage with his left hand and reaching round with his right, trying to stick a knife into yussuf dakmar's ribs without endangering his own hide. but the sixth man was the rascal i had kicked. he had no room--perhaps no inclination--to get into the scrimmage; so he saw me first, and he needed no spur to his enmity. with a movement as quick as a cat's and presence of mind that accounted for his being leader of the gang, he seized the fifth man by the neck and spun him round to call his attention; and the two came for me together like devils out of a spring-trap. now the narrow door of a compartment on a train isn't any kind of easy place to fight in, but i vow and declare that jeremy and i both did our best for yussuf dakmar. that's a remarkable thing if you come to think of it. as a dirty murderer--thief--liar--traitor--spy, he hadn't much claim on our affections and jeremy cherished a war-grudge against him on top of it all. what is it that makes us side with the bottom dog regardless of pros and cons? it was a nasty mix-up, because they used knives and we relied on hands and fists. i've used a pick-handle on occasion and a gun when i've had to, but speaking generally it seems to me to demean a white man to use weapons in a row like that, and i find that most fellows who have walked the earth much agree with me. we tried to go in like a typhoon, shock-troop style, but it didn't work. another man let go of yussuf dakmar, who was growing weak and too short of wind to yell, and in a moment there were five of us struggling on the floor between the seats, one man under me with my forearm across his throat and another alongside me, stabbing savagely at a leather valise under the impression that he was carving up my ribs. on top of that mess narayan singh pounced like a tiger, wrenching at arms and legs until i struggled to my feet again--only to be thrust aside by jeremy as he rose and rushed at yussuf dakmar's two assailants. but with all his speed jeremy was a tenth of a tick too late. the wretch was already helpless, and i dare say they broke his back as they leaned their combined weight on him and forced him backward and head-first through the window. jeremy made a grab for his foot, but missed it, and a knife-blade already wet with yussuf dakmar's blood whipped out and stung him in the thigh. that, of course, was sheer ignorance. you should never sting an australian. kill him or let him alone. better yet, make friends with him or surrender; but, above all, do nothing by halves. they're a race of whole-hoggers, equally ready to force their only shirt on you or fight you to a finish. so jeremy finished the business at the window. he took a neck in each hand and cracked their skulls together until the whack-whack-whack of it was like the exhaust of a ford with loose piston rings; and when they fell from his grip, unconscious, he came to my rescue. believe me, i needed it. they were as strong and lithe as wildcats, those syrians, and fully awake to the advantage that the narrow door gave them. one man struggled with narayan singh and kept him busy with his bulk so wedged across the opening that grim and hadad were as good as demobilized out in the corridor; and the other two tackled me like a pair of butchers hacking at a maddened bull. i landed with my fists, but each time at the cost of a flesh-wound; and though i got one knife-hand by the wrist and hung on, wrenching and screwing to throw the fellow off his feet, the other man's right was free and the eighteen-inch erzeram dagger that he held danced this and that way for an opening underneath my guard. jeremy's left fist landed under the peak of his jaw exactly at the moment when he stiffened to launch his thrust. he fell as if pole-axed and the blade missed my stomach by six inches, but the combined force of thrust and blow was great enough to drive the weapon into the wooden partition, where it stayed until i pulled it out to keep as a souvenir. there wasn't much trouble after that. grim and hadad came in and we tore strips from the syrians' clothing to tie their hands and feet with. hadad went to the rear of the train, climbing along the footboard of the third-class cars to the caboose to throw some sort of bluff to the conductor, who came forward--called me "colonel" and hadad "excellency" --looked our prisoners over--recognized no friends--and said that everything was "quite all right." he said he knew exactly what to do; but we left narayan singh on watch, lest that knowledge should prove too original which, however, it turned out not to be. it was bromidian--as old as history. narayan singh came back and told us. "lo, sahib; he went through their clothes as an ape for fleas, i watching. and when he had all their valuables he laid them on the footboard, and then, as we passed some bedouin tents, he kicked them off. but he seems an honest fellow, for he gave them back some small change to buy food with, should any be obtainable." after that he stood flashing his white teeth for half an hour watching mabel bandage jeremy and me, for it always amuses a sikh to watch a white man eat punishment. sikhs are a fine race--but curious-- distinctly curious and given to unusual amusement. when mabel had finished with me at last i stuck a needle into him, and he laughed, accepting the stab as a compliment. a strange thing is how men settle down after excitement. birds do the same thing. a hawk swoops down on a hedgerow; there is a great flutter, followed by sudden silence. a minute later the chattering begins again, without any reference to one of their number being torn in the plunderer's beak. and so we; even grim loosened up and gossiped about feisul and the already ancient days when feisul was the up-to-date saladin leading arab hosts to victory. but there was an even stranger circumstance than that. we weren't the only people in the train; our car, for instance, was fairly well occupied by armenians, arabs, and folk whose vague nationality came under the general heading of levantine. the car ahead where the fight took place, though not crowded, wasn't vacant, and there were others in the car behind. yet not one of them made a move to interfere. they minded their own business, which proves, i think, that manners are based mainly on discretion. as the train gasped slowly up the grade and rolled bumpily at last along the fertile, neglected syrian highland, all the armenians on the train removed their hats and substituted the red tarboosh, preferring the headgear of a convert rather than be the target of every bedouin with a rifle in his hand. the whole journey was a mix-up of things to wonder at--not least of them the matter-of-fact confidence with which the train proceeded along a single track, whose condition left you wondering at each bump whether the next wouldn't be the journey's violent end. there were lamps, but no oil for light when evening came. once, when we bumped over a shaky culvert and a bushel or two of coal-dust fell from the rusty tender, the engineer stopped the train and his assistant went back with a shovel and piece of sacking to gather up the precious stuff. there was nothing but squalid villages and ruins, goats and an occasional rare camel to be seen through the window--not a tree anywhere, the german general staff having attended to that job thoroughly. there is honey in the country and it's plentiful as well as good, because bees are not easy property to raid and make away with; but the milk is from goats, and as for overflowing, i would hate to have to punish the dugs of a score of the brutes to get a jugful for dinner. syria's wealth is of the past and the future. long before it grew too dark to watch the landscape we were wholly converted to grim's argument that syria was no place for a man of feisul's calibre. the arab owners of the land are plundered to the bone; the men with money are foreigners, whose only care is for a government that will favour this religion and that breed. to set up a kingdom there would be like preaching a new religion in hester street; you could hand out text, soup and blankets, but you'd need a whale's supply of faith to carry on, and the offertories wouldn't begin to meet expenses. until that journey finally convinced me, i had been wondering all the while in the back of my head whether grim wasn't intending an impertinence. it hasn't been my province hitherto to give advice to kings; for one thing, they haven't asked me for it. if i were asked, i think i'd take the problem pretty seriously and hesitate before suggesting to a man on whom the hope of fifty million people rests that he'd better pull up stakes and eat crow in exile for the present. i'd naturally hate to be a king, but if i were one i don't think quitting would look good, and i think i'd feel like kicking the fellow who suggested it. but the view from the train, and grim's talk with hadad put me in a mood in which syria didn't seem good enough for a soap-box politician, let alone a man of feisul's fame and character. and when at last a few lights in a cluster down the track proclaimed that we were drawing near damascus, i was ready to advise everybody, feisul included, to get out in a hurry while a chance remained. chapter viii "bismillah! what a mercy that i met you!" while the fireman scraped the iron floor for his last two shovelfuls of coal-dust and the train wheezed wearily into the dark station, grim began to busy himself in mysterious ways. part of his own costume consisted of a short, curved scimitar attached to an embroidered belt-- the sort of thing that arabs wear for ornament rather than use. he took it off and, groping in the dark, helped mabel put it on, without a word of explanation. then, instead of putting on his own moslem over-cloak he threw that over her shoulders and, digging down into his bag for a spare head-dress, snatched her hat off and bound on the white kerchief in its place with the usual double, gold-covered cord of camel-hair. then came my friend the train conductor and addressed me as colonel, offering to carry out the bags. the moment he had grabbed his load and gone grim broke silence: "call her colonel and me grim. don't forget how!" we became aware of faces under helmets peering through the window- officers of feisul's army on the watch for unwelcome visitors. from behind them came the conductor's voice again, airing his english: "any more bags inside there, colonel?" "get out quick, jeremy, and make a fuss about the colonel coming!" ordered grim. jeremy suddenly became the arch-efficient servitor, establishing importance for his chief, and never a newly made millionaire or modern demagog had such skillful advertisement. the shereefian officers stood back at a respectful distance, ready to salute when the personage should deign to alight. "what shall be done with the memsahib's hat?" demanded narayan singh. you could only see the whites of his eyes, but he shook something in his right hand. "eat it!" grim answered. "heavens! that's my best hat!" objected mabel. "give it here. i'll carry it under the cloak." "get rid of it!" grim ordered; and narayan singh strode off to contribute yellow leghorn straw and poppies to the engine furnace. i gave him ten piastres to fee the engineer, and five for the fireman, so you might say that was high-priced fuel. "what kind of bunk are you throwing this time?" i asked grim. he didn't answer, but gave orders to mabel in short, crisp syllables. "you're colonel lawrence. answer no questions. if anyone salutes, just move your hand and bow your head a bit. you're just his height. look straight in front of you and take long strides. bend your head forward a little; there, that's it." "i'm scared!" announced mabel, by way of asking for more particulars. she wasn't scared in the least. "piffle!" grim answered. "remember you're lawrence, that's all. they'd give you damascus if you asked for it. follow jeremy, and leave the rest to us." i don't doubt that grim had been turning over the whole plan in his mind for hours past, but when i taxed him with it afterward his reply was characteristic: "if we'd rehearsed it, mabel and hadad would both have been self-conscious. the game is to study your man--or woman, as the case may be--and sometimes drill 'em, sometimes spring it on 'em, according to circumstances. the only rule is to study people; there are no two quite alike." hadad was surprised into silence, too thoughtful a man to do anything except hold his tongue until the next move should throw more light on the situation. he followed us out of the car, saying nothing; and being recognized by the light of one dim lantern as an intimate friend of feisul, he accomplished all that grim could have asked of him. he was known to have been in europe until recently. rumours about lawrence had been tossed from mouth to mouth for days past, and here was somebody who looked like lawrence in the dark, followed by grim and hadad and addressed as "colonel." why shouldn't those three shereefian officers jump to conclusions, salute like automatons and grin like loyal men who have surprised a secret and won't tell anyone but their bosom friends? it was all over damascus within the hour that lawrence had come from england to stand by feisul in the last ditch. the secret was kept perfectly! we let mabel walk ahead of us, and there was no trouble at the customs barrier, where normally every piastre that could be wrung from protesting passengers were mulcted to support a starving treasury; for the officers strode behind us, and trade signs to the customs clerk, who immediately swore at everyone in sight and sent all his minions to yell for the best cabs in damascus. narayan singh distributed largesse to about a hundred touts and hangers-on and we splashed off toward the hotel in two open landaus, through streets six inches deep in water except at the cross-gutters, where the horses jumped for fear of losing soundings. abana and pharpar, rivers of damascus, were in flood as usual at that time of year, and the scavenging street curs had to swim from one garbage heap to the next. there was a gorgeous battle going on opposite the hotel door, where half a dozen white-ivoried mongrels with their backs to a heap of kitchen leavings held a ford against a dozen others, each beast that made good his passage joining with the defenders to fight off the rest. i stood on the hotel steps and watched the war for several minutes, while grim went in with the others and registered as "rupert ramsden of chicago, u.s.a., and party." the flood, and darkness owing to the lack of fuel, were all in our favour, for such folk as were abroad were hardly of the sort whose gossip would carry weight; nevertheless, we hadn't been in the hotel twenty minutes before an agent of the bank put in his appearance, speaking french volubly. seeing my name on the register, he made the mistake of confining his attention to me, which enabled grim to get mabel safely away into a big room on the second floor. the frenchman (if he was one--he had a hebrew nose) made bold to corner me on a seat near the dining-room door. he was nervous rather than affable--a little pompous, as behooved the representative of money power--and evidently used to having his impertinences answered humbly. "you are from the south? did you have a good journey? was the train attacked? did you hear any interesting rumors on the way?" those were all preliminary questions, thrown out at random to break ice. as he sat down beside me you could feel the next one coming just as easily as see that he wasn't interested in the answers to the first. "you are here on business? what business?" "private business," said i, with an eye on jeremy just coming down the stairs. "you talk arabic?" he nodded, eyeing me keenly. "that man is my servant and knows my affairs. i'm too tired to talk after the journey. suppose you ask him." so jeremy came and sat beside us, and threw the cow's husband around as blithely as he juggles billiard balls. i wasn't supposed to understand what he was saying. "the big effendi is a prizefighter, who has heard there is money to be made at feisul's court. at least, that is what he says. between you and me, i think he is a spy for the french government, because when he engaged me in jerusalem he gave me a fist-full of paper francs with which to send a telegram to paris. what was in the telegram? i don't know; it was a mass of figures, and i mixed them up on purpose, being an honest fellow averse to spy's work. oh, i've kept an eye on him, believe me! ever since he killed a syrian in the train i've had my doubts of him. mashallah, what a murderous disposition the fellow has! kill a man as soon as look at him--indeed he would. are you a prince in these parts?" "a banker." "bismillah! what a mercy that i met you! i overheard him say that he will visit the bank tomorrow morning to cash a draft for fifty thousand francs. i'd examine the draft carefully if i were you. it wouldn't surprise me to learn it was stolen or forged. is there any other bank that he could go to?" "no, only mine; the others have suspended business on account of the crisis." "then, in the name of allah don't forget me! you ought to give me a thousand francs for the information. i am a poor man, but honest. at what time shall i come for the money in the morning? perhaps you could give me a little on account at once, for my wages are due tonight and i'm not at all certain of getting them." "well, see me in the morning," said the banker. he got up and left us at once, hardly troubling to excuse himself; and grim heard him tell the hotel proprietor that our whole party would be locked up in jail before midnight. that rumour went the rounds like wild-fire, so that we were given a wide berth and had a table all to ourselves in the darkest corner of the big dim dining-room. there were more than a hundred people eating dinner, and narayan singh, hadad and i were the only ones in western clothes. every seat at the other tables was occupied by some syrian dignitary in flowing robes-- rows and rows of stately looking notables, scant of speech and noisy at their food. many of them seemed hardly to know the use of knife and fork, but they could all look as dignified as owls, even when crowding in spaghetti with their fingers. we provided them with a sensation before the second course was finished. a fine-looking syrian officer in khaki, with the usual cloth flap behind his helmet that forms a compromise between western smartness and eastern comfort, strode into the room and bore down on us. he invited us out into the corridor with an air that suggested we would better not refuse, and we filed out after him in an atmosphere of frigid disapproval. mabel was honestly scared half out of her wits now. not even the smiles of the hotel proprietor in the doorway reassured her, nor his deep bow as she passed. she was even more scared, if that were possible, when two officers, obviously of high rank, came forward in the hall to greet her, and one addressed her in arabic as colonel lawrence. luckily one oil lamp per wall was doing duty in place of electric light, or there might have been an awkward incident. she had presence of mind enough to disguise her alarm by a fit of coughing, bending nearly double and covering the lower part of her face with the ends of the headdress folded over. the officers had no time to waste and gave their message to grim instead. "the emir feisul is astonished, jimgrim, that colonel lawrence and you should visit damascus without claiming his hospitality. we have two autos waiting to take you to the palace." well, the luggage didn't amount to much; narayan singh brought that down in a jiffy; and when i went to settle with the hotel-keeper one of the syrian officers interfered. "these are guests of the emir feisul," he announced. "send the bill to me." we were piled into the waiting autos. mabel, grim and i rode in the first one, with the syrian officers up beside the driver; jeremy, narayan singh and hadad followed; and we went through the dark streets like sea-monsters splashing over shoals, unseen i think--certainly unrecognized. the streets were almost deserted and i didn't catch sight of one armed man, which was a thing to marvel at when you consider that fifty thousand or so were supposed to be concentrated in the neighbourhood, with conscription working full-blast and the foreign consuls solely occupied in procuring exemption for their nationals. it wasn't my first visit to a reigning prince, for if you travel much in india you're bound to come in contact with numbers of them; so i naturally formed a mental picture of what was in store for us, made up from a mixture of memories of gwalior, baroda, bikanir, hyderabad, poona and baghdad of the arabian-nights. it just as naturally vanished in presence of the quiet, latter-day dignity of the real thing. the palace turned out to be a villa on the outskirts of the city, no bigger and hardly more pretentious than a well-to-do commuter's place at bronxville or mount vernon. there was a short semi-circular drive in front, with one sentry and one small lantern burning at each gate; but their khaki uniforms and puttees didn't disguise the fact that the sentries were dark, dyed-in-wool arabs from the desert country, and though they presented arms, they did it as men who make concessions without pretending to admire such foolishness. i wouldn't have given ten cents for an unescorted stranger's chance of getting by them, whatever his nationality. surely there was never less formality in a king's house since the world began. we were ushered straight into a narrow, rather ordinary hall, and through that into a sitting-room about twenty feet square. the light was from oil lamps hanging by brass chains from the curved beams; but the only other oriental suggestions were the cushioned seats in each corner, small octagonal tables inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and a mighty good persian carpet. narayan singh and jeremy, supposedly being servants, offered to stay in the hall, but were told that feisul wouldn't approve of that. "whatever they shouldn't hear can be said in another room," was the explanation. so we all sat down together on one of the corner seats, and were kept waiting about sixty seconds until feisul entered by a door in the far corner. and when he came he took your breath away. it always prejudices me against a man to be told that he is dignified and stately. those adjectives smack of too much self-esteem and of a claim to be made of different clay from most of us. he was both, yet he wasn't either. and he didn't look like a priest, although if ever integrity and righteousness shone from a man, with their effect heightened by the severely simple arab robes, i swear that man was he. just about jeremy's height and build--rather tall and thin that is--with a slight stoop forward from the shoulders due to thoughtfulness and camel-riding and a genuine intention not to hold his head too high, he looked like a shepherd in a bible picture, only with good humour added, that brought him forward out of a world of dreams on to the same plane with you, face to face--understanding meeting understanding--man to man. i wish i could describe his smile as he entered, believing he was coming to meet lawrence, but it can't be done. maybe you can imagine it if you bear in mind that this man was captain of a cause as good as lost, hedged about by treason and well aware of it; and that colonel lawrence was the one man in the world who had proved himself capable of bridging the division between east and west and making possible the arab dream of independence. but unhappily it's easier to record unpleasant things. he knew at the first glance--even before she drew back the kuffiyi--that mabel wasn't lawrence, and i've never seen a man more disappointed in all my wanderings. the smile didn't vanish; he had too much pluck and self-control for that; but you might say that iron entered into it, as if for a second he was mocking destiny, willing to face all odds alone since he couldn't have his friend. and he threw off disappointment like a man--dismissed it as a rock sheds water, coming forward briskly to shake hands with grim and bowing as grim introduced us. "at least here are two good friends," he said in arabic, sitting down between grim and hadad. "tell me what this means, and why you deceived us about lawrence." "we've something to show you," grim answered. "mrs. ticknor brought it; otherwise it might have been seen by the wrong people." feisul took the hint and dismissed the syrian officers, calling them by their first names as he gave them "leave to go." then mabel produced the letter and feisul read it, crossing one thin leg over the other and leaning back easily. but he sat forward again and laughed bitterly when he had read it twice over. "i didn't write this. i never saw it before, or heard of it," he said simply. "i know that," said grim. "but we thought you'd better look at it." feisul laid the letter across his knee and paused to light a cigarette. i thought he was going to do what nine men out of ten in a tight place would certainly have done; but he blew out the match, and went on smoking. "you mean your government has seen the thing, and sent you to confront me with it?" it was grim's turn to laugh, and he was jubilant without a trace of bitterness. "no. the chief and i have risked our jobs by not reporting it. this visit is strictly unofficial." feisul handed the letter back to him, and it was grim who struck a match and burned it, after tearing off the seal for a memento. "you know what it means, of course?" grim trod the ash into the carpet. "if the french could have come by that letter in jerusalem, they'd have dreyfussed you--put you on trial for your life on trumped-up evidence. they'd send a sworn copy of it to the british to keep them from taking your part." "i am grateful to you for burning it," feisul answered. he didn't look helpless, hopeless, or bewildered, but dumb and clinging on; like a man who holds an insecure footing against a hurricane. "it means that the men all about you are traitors--" grim went on. "not all of them," feisul interrupted. "but many of them," answered grim. "your arabs are loyal hot-heads; some of your syrians are dogs whom anyone can hire." it was straight speaking. from a major in foreign service, uninvited, to a king, it sounded near the knuckle. feisul took it quite pleasantly. "i know one from the other, jimgrim." grim got up and took a chair opposite feisul. he was all worked up and sweating at self-mastery, hotter under the collar than i had ever seen him. "it means," he went on, with a hand on each knee and his strange eyes fixed steadily on feisul's, "that the french are ready to attack you. it means they're sure of capturing your person--and bent on seeing your finish. they'll give you a drumhead court martial and make excuses afterward." "inshallah," feisul answered, meaning "if allah permits it." "that is exactly the right word!" grim exploded; and lord, he was hard put to it to keep excitement within bounds. i could see his neck trembling, and there were little beads of sweat on his temple. it was grim at last without the mask on. "allah marks the destiny of all of us. do you suppose we're here for nothing--at this time?" feisul smiled. "i am glad to see you," he said simply. "are you planning to fight the french?" grim asked him suddenly, in the sort of way that a man at close quarters lets rip an upper-cut. "i must fight or yield. they have sent an ultimatum, but delayed it so as not to permit me time to answer. it has expired already. they are probably advancing." "and you intend to sit here and wait for them?" "i shall be at the front." "you know you haven't a chance!" "my advisers think that my presence at the front will encourage our men sufficiently to win the day." "have you a charm against mustard gas?" "that is our weakness. no, we have no masks." "and the wind setting up from the sea at this time of year! your army is going straight into a trap, and you along with it. half of the men who advise you to go to the front will fight like lions against a net, and the other half will sell you to the french! your fifty thousand men will melt like butter in the sun and your arab cause will be left without a leader!" feisul pondered that for about a minute, leaning back and watching grim's face. "we held a council of war, jimgrim," he said at last. "it was the unanimous opinion of the staff that we ought to fight and the cabinet upheld them. i couldn't cancel the order if i wished. what would you think of a king who left his army in the lurch?" "nobody will ever accuse you of cowardice," grim answered. "you're a proven brave man if ever there was one. the point is, do you want all your bravery and hard work for the arab cause to go for nothing? do you want the prospect of arab independence to go up in smoke on a gas-swept battlefield?" "it would break my heart," said feisul, "although one heart hardly matters." "it would break more hearts than yours," grim retorted. "there are millions looking to you for leadership. leave me out of it. leave lawrence out of it, and all the other non-moslems who have done their bit for you. leave most of these syrians out of it; for they're simply politicians making use of you--a mess of breeds and creeds so mixed and corrupted that they don't know which end up they stand! if the syrians had guts they'd have rallied so hard to you long ago that no outsider would have had a chance." "what do you mean? what are you proposing?" feisul asked quietly. "baghdad is your place, not damascus!" "but here i am in damascus," feisul retorted; and for the first time there was a note of impatience in his voice. "i came here at the request of the allies, on the strength of their promises. i did not ask to be king. i would rather not be. let any man be ruler whom the arabs choose, and i will work for him loyally. but the arabs chose me and the allies consented. it was only after they had won their war with our help that the french began raising objections and, the british deserted me. it is too late to talk of baghdad now." "it isn't! it's too soon!" grim answered, bringing down a clenched fist on his knee, and feisul laughed in spite of himself. "you talk like a prophet, jimgrim, but let me tell you something. it is mainly a question of money after all. the british paid us a subsidy until they withdrew from syria. they did their best for us even then, for they left behind guns, ammunition, wagons and supplies. when the french seized the ports they promised to continue the subsidy, because they are collecting the customs dues and we have no other revenue worth mentioning. but rather than send us money the french have told our people not to pay taxes; so our treasury is empty. nevertheless, we contrived by one means and another. we arranged a bank credit, and ordered supplies from abroad. the supplies have reached beirut, but the french have ordered the bank to cancel the credit, and until we pay for the supplies they are withheld." "any gas masks among the supplies you ordered?" grim asked him; and feisul nodded. "that banker has played fast and loose with us until the last minute. relying on our undertaking not to molest foreigners he has resided in damascus, making promises one day and breaking them the next, keeping his funds in beirut and his agency here, draining money out of the country all the while." "why didn't you arrest him?" "we gave our word to the french that he should have complete protection and immunity. it seemed a good thing to us to have such an influential banker here; he has international connections. as recently as yesterday, twenty minutes before that ultimatum came, he was in this room assuring me that he would be able to solve the credit difficulty within a day or two." "would you like to send for him now?" suggested grim. "i doubt if he would come." "well, have him fetched!" feisul shook his head. "if other people break their promises, that is no reason why we should break ours. if we can defeat the french and force them to make other terms, then we will expel him from syria. i leave at midnight, jimgrim." "to defeat the french? you go to your waterloo! you're in check with only one move possible, and i'm here to make you realize it. you're a man after my own heart, feisul, but you and your arabs are children at dealing with these foreign exploiters! "they can beat you at every game but honesty. and listen: if you did defeat the french--if you drove them into the sea tomorrow, they'd get away with all the money in beirut and you'd still be at the mercy of foreign capitalists! instead of an independent arab kingdom here you'd have a mixture of peoples and religions all plotting against one another and you, with capitulations and foreign consuls getting in the way, and bond-holding bankers sitting on top of it all like the old man of the sea in the story of sindbad the sailor! "leave that to the french! let them have all syria to stew in! go to england where your friends are. let the politicians alone. meet real folk and talk with them. tell them the truth; for they don't know it! talk with the men and women who haven't got political jobs to lose--with the fellows who did the fighting--with the men and women who have votes. they'll believe you. they've given up believing politicians, and they're learning how to twist the politicians' tails. you'll find yourself in baghdad within a year or two, with all mesopotamia to make a garden of and none but arabs to deal with. that's your field!" feisul smiled with the air of a man who recognizes but is unconvinced. "there are always things that might have been," he answered. "as it is, i cannot desert the army." "we'll save what we can of the army," grim answered. "your syrians will save their own skins; it's only the arabs we've got to look out for--a line of retreat for the arab regiments, and another for you. it's not too late, and you know i'm right! come on; let's get busy and do it!" feisul's smile was all affection and approval, but he shook his head. "if what you say is true, i should only have the same problem in mesopotamia--foreign financiers," he answered. "that's exactly where you're wrong!" grim retorted triumphantly. he stood up, and pointed at jeremy. "here's a man who owns a gold-mine. it lies between mesopotamia and your father's kingdom of the hedjaz, and its exact whereabouts is a secret. he's here tonight to make you a present of the mine! and here's another man,"--he pointed at me--"a mining expert, who'll tell you what the thing's worth. it's yours, if you'll agree to abandon syria and lay a course for baghdad!" chapter xiv "you'll be a virgin victim!" feisul was interested; he couldn't help being. and he was utterly convinced of grim's sincerity. but he wasn't moved from his purpose, and not even jeremy's account of the gold-mine, or my professional opinion of its value, had the least effect toward cancelling the plans he had in mind. he was deeply affected by the offer, but that was all. "good heavens, man!" grim exploded suddenly. "surely you won't throw the whole world into war again! you know what it will mean if the french kill or imprison you. there isn't a moslem of all the millions in asia who won't swear vengeance against the west--you know that! a direct descendant of mohammed, and the first outstanding, conquering moslem since saladin--" "the allies should have thought of that before they broke promises," said feisul. "never mind them. damn them!" answered grim. "it's up to you! the future of civilization is in your lap this minute! can't you see that if you lose you'll be a martyr, and islam will rise to avenge you?" "inshallah," said feisul, nodding. "but that if you let pride go by the board, and seem to run away, there'll be a breathing spell? asia would wonder for a few months, and do nothing, until it began to dawn on them that you had acted wisely and had a better plan in view." "i am not proud, except of my nation," feisul answered. "i would not let pride interfere with policy. but it is too late to talk of this." "which is better?" grin demanded. "a martyr, the very mention of whose name means war, or a living power for peace under a temporary cloud?" "i am afraid i am a poor host. forgive me," feisul answered. "dinner has been waiting all this while, and you have a lady with you. this is disgraceful." he rose and led the way into another room, closing the discussion. we ate an ordinary meal in an ordinary dining room, feisul presiding and talking trivialities with mabel and hadad. there was an occasional boisterous interlude by jeremy, but even he with his tales of unknown arabia couldn't lift the load of depression. grim and i sat silent through the meal. i experienced the sensation that you get when an expedition proves a failure and you've got to go home again with nothing done--all dreary emptiness; but grim was hatching something, as you could tell by the far-away expression and the glowering light in his eyes. he looked about ready for murder. narayan singh's face all through the meal was a picture--delight and pride at dining with a king, amazement at his karma that had brought a sepoy of the line to hear such confidences first hand, chagrin over grim's apparent failure and desire to be inconspicuous controlled his expression in turn. once or twice he tried to make conversation with me, but i was in no mood for it, being a grouchy old bear on occasion without decent manners. feisul excused himself the minute the meal was over, saying he had a conference to attend, and we all went back into the sitting-room, where grim took the chair he occupied before and marshalled us into a row on the seat in front of him. he was back again in form--electric--and self-controlled. "have you folk got the hang of this?" he asked. "do you realize what it means if feisul goes out and gets scuppered?" we thought we did, even if we didn't. i don't suppose anyone except the few who, like grim, have made a life-study of the problem of islam in all its bearings could quite have grasped it. mabel had a viewpoint that served grim's purpose as well as any at the moment. "that man's too good, and much too good-looking to be wasted!" she said emphatically. "d'you suppose that if colonel lawrence were really here--" "half a minute," said grim, "and i'll come to that. how about you, hadad? how far would you go to save feisul from this waterloo?" "i would go a long way," he answered cautiously. "what do you intend?" "to appear near the firing-line, for one thing, with somebody who looks like colonel lawrence, and somebody else who looks enough like feisul in one of feisul's cars, and give the french a run for it in one direction while feisul escapes in the other." "wallahi! but what if feisul won't go?" "he'll get helped! did you ever hear what they did to napoleon at waterloo? seized his bridle and galloped away with him." "you mean i'm to act lawrence again?" asked mabel, looking deathly white. grim nodded. "who's cast for feisul?" jeremy inquired. "you are. you're the only trained stage-actor in the bunch. you're his height--not unlike his figure--" "i resemble him as much as a kangaroo looks like an ostrich!" laughed jeremy. "you're talking wild, jim. what have you had to drink?" "how about you, ramsden? will you see this through?" jeremy shook his head at me. i believe he thought for the moment that grim had gone mad. he hadn't the experience of grim that i had, and consequently not the same confidence in grim's ability to dream, catch the essence of the dream, pin it down and make a fact of it. "i'll go the limit," said i. "well, i'll be damned" laughed jeremy. "all right; same here. i stake a gold-mine and rammy raises me. fetch your crown and sceptre and i'll play king to jim's ace in a royal straight flush. mabel's queen. hadad's a knave. he looks it! keep smiling, hadad, old top, and i'll let you forgive me. rammy's the ten-spot--tentative--tenacious--ten aces up his sleeve--and packs a ten-ton wallop when you get him going. what's narayan singh? the deuce?" "the joker," answered grim. "are you in on this?" "sahib, there was no need to ask. what your honor finds good enough-- your honor's order--" "orders have nothing to do with it. we're not in british territory. this in unofficial. i've no right to give you orders," said grim. "you're free to refuse. i'm likely to lose my job over this and so are you if you take part in it." narayan singh grinned hugely. "hah! a sepoy's position is a smaller stake than a major's commission or a gold-mine, but i likewise have a life to lose, and i play too!" grim nodded curtly. it was no time for returning compliments. "how about you, mabel? we can manage this without you, and you've a husband to think of--" "if he were here he'd hate it, but he'd give permission." "all right. now, hadad. what about it?" "am i to obey you absolutely, not knowing what the--" grim interrupted him: "the proposal's fair. either you withdraw now and hold your tongue, or come in with us. if you're in i'll tell the details; if not, there's no need." "wallahi! what a sword-blade you are, jimgrim! if i say 'yes,' i risk my future on your backgammon board; if i say 'no,' my life is worth a millieme, for you will tell that sikh you call the 'joker' to attend to me!" "not so," grim answered. "if you don't like the plan, i'll trust you to fall out and keep the secret." "oh, in that case," answered hadad, hesitating. "since you put it that way... well, it is lose all or perhaps win something--half-measures are no good--the alternative is ruin of the arab cause--it is a forlorn hope--well, one throw of the dice, eh?--and all our fortunes on the table!--one little mistake and helas--finish! never mind. yes, i will play too. i will play this to the end with you." "so we're all set," remarked grim with a sigh of relief. instantly he threw his shoulders back and began to set his pieces for the game. and you know, there's a world of difference between the captain of a side who doesn't worry until the game begins and grim's sort, who do their worrying beforehand and then play, and make the whole side play for every ounce that's in them. "mabel, you're lawrence. keep silent, be shy, avoid encounters--act like a man who's not supposed to be here, but who came to help feisul contrary to express commands laid on him by the foreign office. get that? lawrence is a shy man, anyway--hates publicity, rank, anything that calls attention to himself. the more shy you are, the easier you'll get away with it. feisul must help pretend you're lawrence. the presence of lawrence would add to his prestige incalculably, and i think he'll see that, but if not, never mind, we'll manage. any questions? quick!" you can't ask questions when you're given that sort of opportunity. the right ones don't occur to you and the others seem absurd. grim knew that, of course, but when you're dealing with a woman there's just one chance in a hundred that she may think of something vital that hasn't occurred to anybody else. most women aren't practical; but it's the impractical things that happen. "suppose we're captured by the french?" she suggested. "that's what's going to happen," he answered. "when they've got you, then you're mrs. mabel ticknor, who never saw lawrence and wouldn't recognize him if you did." "they'll ask why i'm wearing man's clothes, and masquerading as an arab." "well, you're a woman, aren't you? you answer with another question-- ask them just how safe a woman would be! they may claim that their algerians are baby-lambs, but they can't blame you for not believing it! anything else?" she shook her head, and he turned on hadad. "hadad, lose no opportunity of whispering that lawrence is with feisul. add that lawrence doesn't want his presence known. hunt out two or three loyal arabs on the staff and tell them the plan is to kidnap feisul and carry him to safety across the border; but don't do it too soon; wait until the debacle begins, and then persuade a few of them-- old ali, for instance, and osman--choose the old guard--you and they bolt with him to haifa. the syrians have been thoroughly undermined by propaganda; gas will do the rest, and as soon as the arabs see the syrians run they'll listen to reason. they know you, and know you're on the level. do you understand? will you do that?" "i will try. i see many a chance of spilling before this cup comes to the drinking, jimgrim!" "then carry it carefully!" grim answered. "ramsden, take that car you came in. find that banker. he's the boy who has bought feisul's staff, or i'm much mistaken. bring him here." "suppose he won't come?" "bring him. take jeremy with you. try diplomacy first. tell him that a plot to kidnap feisul has been discovered at the last minute, but give him to understand that no suspicion rests on him. get him, if you can, to send a message to the french general staff, warning them to watch for feisul and two civilians and lawrence in an auto. after that bring him if you have to put him in a sack." "what's his name, and where does he live?" "adolphe rene. everybody knows his house. jeremy, look as unlike feisul as you can until the time comes, but study the part and be ready to jump into his clothes. narayan singh, stay with me. you and i will do the dirty work. get busy, ramsden." circumstances work clock-fashion, wheel fitting into wheel, when those tides that shakespeare spoke of are at flood. disregarding all the theory and argument about human will as opposed to cosmic law i say this, without any care at all who contradicts me: that whoever is near the hub of happenings is the agent of universal law, and can no more help himself than can the watch that tells the hour. the men who believe that they make history should really make a thoughtful fellow laugh. "the moving finger writes, and having writ moves on"; the old tentmaker omar knew the truth of it. you could almost hear the balance-wheel of progress click as the door opened before grim had finished speaking, and a staff officer appeared to invite him to be present at feisul's conference. grim asked at once for the auto for me (i couldn't have had it otherwise), and a moment later jeremy and i were scooting into darkness through narrow streets and driving rain, with the hubs of the wheels awash in places and "shipping it green" over the floor when we dipped and pitched over a cross-street gutter. the arab driver knew the way, from which i take it he had a compass in his head as well as a charm against accidents and a spirit of recklessness that put faith in worn-out springs. there wasn't room for more than one set of wheels at a time in most of the streets we tore through, but a camel tried to share one fairway with us and had the worst of it; he cannoned off into an alley 'himd end first, and we could hear him bellowing with rage a block away. and our manner of stopping was like our progress, prompt. the brake- bands went on with a shriek and jeremy and i pitched forward as the car brought up against the kerb in front of an enormous door, whose brass knocker shone like gold in the rays of our headlights. we told the arab to wait for us and stepped knee-deep into a pool invisible, stumbled and nearly fell over a great stone set to bridge the flood between street and door, then proceeded to use the knocker importunately, thunderously, angrily, as men with wet feet and bruised toes likely will, whatever the custom of the country. we went on knocking, taking turns, until the door opened at last and the banker's servant peered at us with a candle in his hand, demanding to know in the name of the thousand and one devils whom solomon boiled in oil what impudent scavengers were making all that noise. but the banker himself was in the background, thinking perhaps that the french had come already, on the lookout over the servant's shoulder for a glimpse of a kepi. so we put our shoulders to the door, thrust by the servant, and walked in. "take care! i have a pistol in my hand!" said the banker's voice. "three shots for a shilling at me then!" retorted jeremy. "who are you?" "tell that shivering fool to bring the candle, and you'll see!" "oh, you, is it! i told you to come in the morning. i can't see you now." "can't see me, eh? come in here and peel your eyes, cocky! sit down and look at us. there, take a pew. wonder where i learned such good english? well, i used to shine the toenails of the prince o' wales, and you have to pass a civil service examination before they give you that good job. i talk any language except french and jewish, but this master of mine turns out to be a jew who talks french, and not a prizefighter after all. "what did i tell you this evening? said he was a spy for the french, didn't i? i tell you, i'm a dependable man. what i say you can bet on till you've lost all your money. here he is, spying to beat the promised-landers--just had tea with feisul and learned all the inside facts--offered me a pound to come and find you, but i charged him two and got the money in advance. "you ought to pay me a commission, too, and then i'll get married if there's an honest woman left in damascus. if either of you want my advice, you won't believe a word the other says, but i expect you're both too wilful to be guided. anyhow, you'll have to talk in front of me, because my master is afraid of being murdered; he isn't afraid of ghosts or bad smells, but the sight of a long knife turns his heart to water and sets him to praying so loud that you can't get a word in edgewise. go on, both of you--yalla! talk!" does it begin to be obvious why kings used to employ court jesters? the modern cabinets should have them--men like jeremy (though they'd be hard to find) to break the crust of situations. suspicion weakens in the presence of incongruity. "this fellow seems less than half-witted," i said, "but he's shrewd, and i've found him useful. unfortunately he has picked up a lot of information, so we'll have to keep an eye on him. my business is to communicate with the french general staff and i'm told you know how to manage it." "huh-huh? who told you that?" "those who gave me my instructions. if you don't know who they are without my telling you, you're the wrong man and i'll not waste time with you." "let us suppose that i know then. proceed." "your name was given to me as that of a man who can be trusted to take necessary action in the interests of ... er ... you understand?" "uh-huh!" "the plot for feisul to be kidnapped by some syrian members of his staff has been discovered at the last minute," i said, looking hard at him; and he winced palpably. "mon dieu! you mean--" "that it is not too late to save the situation. you have not been accused of connection with it. i came here in pursuance of a different plan to kidnap him--a sort of reserve plan, to be employed in case other means should fail. all arrangements are in working order except the one item of communicating with the french general staff. i require you to accompany me for that purpose, and to send off to them immediately a message at my dictation." "tschaa! suppose you show me your authority?" "certainly!" i answered. realizing that he wasn't in immediate danger of life he had returned his own pistol to his pocket. so i showed him the muzzle of mine, and he divined without a sermon on the subject that it would go off and shoot accurately unless he showed discretion. he didn't offer to move when jeremy's agile fingers found his pocket and flicked out the mother-of- pearl-handled, rim-fire thing with which he had previously kept his courage warm. "i was told not to trust you too far," i explained. "i was warned in advance that you might question my credentials. you are said to be jealous of interference. as a precaution against miscarriage of this plan through jealousy on your part, i was ordered to oblige you to obey me." "and if i refuse?" "your widow will then be the individual most concerned. be good enough to take pen and paper, and write a letter to my dictation." jeremy went to the door, which was partly open, made sure that the servant was out of earshot, and slammed it tight. rene the banker went to his escritoire, took paper, and shook his fountain pen. "how shall i commence the letter?" he asked me with a dry, sly smile. he thought he had me there. there are doubtless proper forms of address that serve to establish the genuineness of letters written by a spy. "commence half-way down the page," i answered. "we'll insert the address afterwards. write in french:" "i shall accompany the emir feisul and colonel lawrence to the front tonight, former plan having miscarried. when syrian retreat begins look out for automobile containing feisul and lawrence, which may be recognized easily as it will also contain myself and another civilian in plain clothes. at the psychological moment a white flag will be shown from it, waved perhaps surreptitiously by one of the civilians. in the event of breakdown of the automobile a horsed vehicle will be used and the same signal will apply. for the sake of myself and the other civilian, please instruct all officers to keep a sharp lookout and protect the party from being fired on." "there," i said, "sign that and address it." he hesitated. he couldn't doubt that his own arrangements with traitors on the staff to kidnap feisul had gone amiss, else how should i be aware of them at all--i, who had only arrived that evening in damascus? but it puzzled him to know why i should make him write the letter, or, since his plan must have failed, why i should let him share in the kidnapping. he smelt the obvious rat. why didn't i sign the letter myself, and get all the credit afterward, as any other spy would do? "you sign it," he said, pushing the letter toward me; and i got one of those sudden inspirations that there is no explaining--the right idea for handling fox rene the banker. "so you're afraid to sign that, are you? all right; give it here, i'll sign it; pass me your pen. but you'll come along with me tonight, my lad, and make your explanations to the french in the morning!" looking back, i can see how the accusation worked, although it was an arrow shot at a venture. his greasy, sly, fox face with its touch of bold impudence betrayed him for a man who would habitually hedge his bets. feisul's safe-conduct had protected him from official interference, but it had needed more than that to preserve him from unofficial murder, and beyond a doubt he had betrayed the french in minor ways whenever that course looked profitable. now in a crisis he had small choice but to establish himself as loyal to the stronger side. he hurriedly wrote a number at the bottom of the letter, and another followed by three capitals and three more figures at the top. "seal it up and send it--quick!" i ordered him. he obeyed and jeremy called the servant. "summon francois," said the banker, and the servant disappeared again. francois must remain a mystery. he was insoluble. dressed in a pair of baggy turkish pants, with a red sash round his middle, knotted loosely over a woollen jersey that had wide horizontal black and yellow strips, with a grey woollen shawl over the lot, and a new tarboosh a size or two too small for him perched at an angle on his head, he stood shifting from one bare foot to the other and moved a toothless gap in his lower face in what was presumably a smile. he had no nose that you could recognize, although there were two blow- holes in place of nostrils with a hideous long scar above them. one ear was missing. he had no eyebrows. but the remaining ear was pointed at the top like a satyr's, and his little beady eyes were as black as a bird's and inhumanly bright. the banker spoke to him in the voice you would use to a rather spoilt child when obedience was all-important, using arabic with a few french words thrown in. "ah, here is francois. good francois! francois, mon brave, here is a letter, eh? you know where to take it--eh? ha-ha! francois knows, doesn't he! francois doesn't talk; he tells nobody; he's wise, is francois! he runs, eh? he runs through the rain and the night; and he hides so that nobody can see him; and he delivers the letter; and somebody gives francois money and tobacco and a little rum; and francois comes running back to the nice little, dark little hole where he sleeps. plenty to eat, eh, francois? nice soft food that needs no chewing! nothing to do but run with a letter now and then, eh? a brave fellow is francois--a clever fellow--a trustworthy fellow--a dependable, willing fellow, always ready to please! ready to go? "well, there's the letter; be careful with it, and run-run-run like a good boy! a whole bottle of rum when you come back--think of it! a whole bottle of nice brown rum to yourself in that nice little room where your bed is! there, goodbye!" the creature addressed as francois vanished, with a snort and a sort of squeal that may have been meant for speech. "that is the best messenger in syria," said rene. "he is priceless--incorruptible, silent, and as sure as destiny! the french general staff will have that letter before dawn. now--what next?" "you come with me," i answered. he felt better now that the message was on its way; second thought convinced him of my connection with the french. there is no more profitless delusion than to suppose that a country's secret agents are always its own nationals. they are almost always not. if the french used only frenchmen, germany used none but germans, great britain only englishmen, and so on, it might be prettier and easier for the police, but intelligence departments would starve. so there was nothing about an obvious american doing spy-work for the french that should stick in his craw; and that being so, the more cheerfully he aided me the better it would likely be for him. so he called for the servant again, and proved himself a good campaigner by superintending the packing of a big basket with provisions--bread and butter, cold chicken, wine, olives, and hot coffee in a thermos bottle. "the french will be in damascus by noon tomorrow," he said. "ha-ha! those french and their hungry algerians! we do well to take a good provision with us--enough for two days at least. we shall enter with them, i suppose, or at least behind them, and of course my house here will receive consideration; but--ha-ha!--how many chickens do you believe will be purchasable in damascus one hour after the first algerians get here? eh? put in another chicken, hassan, mon brave. eh bien, oui--pack the basket full; put in more of everything!" at last he got into an overcoat lined with fox-pelt, for the night air was chilly and an overcoat is less trouble than blankets if you expect to spend a night on the move. we hove the huge basket into the waiting auto, slammed the front door of the house behind us, piled into the back seat and were off. "i shall be glad when this business is over," said rene, with a sigh of satisfaction. "i am a banker by profession. for me the ebb and flow of trade, with its certainties and its discretions. but what would you? trade must be prepared for; doors that will not open must be forced; those who stand in the way must be thrust aside. this feisul is an impossible fellow. he is a hypocrite, i tell you--one of those praters about righteousness who won't understand that the church and the mosque are the places for that sort of thing. eh? you follow me? but tell me, what has been done to daulch, hattin and aubek? were they backed against a wall and shot? who betrayed them? too bad that such a plan should fail, for it was perfect." "far from perfect," i answered; for that one piece of strategy i have by heart--the way to make a man tell all he knows is to pretend to superior knowledge. "heh? how could you improve on it? three members of the staff to order sauve-qui-peut unexpectedly, seize feisul, and deliver him dead or alive? what is better than that? but what has been done to the three?" "nothing," i answered. "just like him! just like him! i tell you, that man feisul would rather be a martyr than succeed at his proper business." we reached the palace just as feisul was leaving it. several members of his staff were hard on his heels in the porch and our party was behind them again, with mabel last of all. there was a line of waiting autos nearly long enough to fill the drive, but an utter absence of military fuss, and no shouting or hurry. it looked in the dark more like a funeral than the departure of a king to join his army at the front. i remained in the car with the banker and sent jeremy to report our doings to grim. presently i could see him standing under the porch lamp with a hand on grim's shoulder, and i leaned out over the auto door to watch; but rene the banker leaned back, snuggled up in his overcoat, liking neither to be seen nor to get his skin wet. i expected to see the three staff officers daulch, hattin and aubek arrested there and then; but nothing happened, except that feisul suddenly drove away with mabel and grim in the same car with him. there followed a rush for the other cars, and the whole line started forward, jeremy jumping in as our car passed the porch. "daulch, hattin and aubek are at the front," he said, and began humming to himself. "at the front?" demanded rene, sitting upright suddenly. "at the front, you say? when did they leave for the front?" "this evening," answered jeremy. you couldn't see his face in the dark, but i think he was chuckling. "strange!" said the banker. "yet you say they have been betrayed--their plan is known--yet they left for the front this evening?" it was pitch-dark inside the car, for the rain swished down in torrents and jeremy fastened the flaps after he got in. rene's change of expression was a thing that you could feel, not see. he kept perfect silence for about two minutes, while the car skidded and bumped at the rear of the procession. then: "you tell me that feisul knows, and yet..." "oh, i didn't tell you that," laughed jeremy. "it was this other man who said so. i never deceived anyone; i'm an honest fellow, i am. remember, i warned you against him when we talked in the hotel; you can't blame me. i told you he was up to mischief. i advised you to keep a careful eye on him and to look twice at his paper! wallah! you must be a lamb in foxskin. my master is a wolf in a woolly overcoat! wait till you've seen him eat that chicken that you brought, and then you'll know what kind of a man he is! "you see, you should have given me money when i asked you for it. i'm a fellow with a price, i am. whoever pays my price gets his money's worth. if you'd had the sense to pay me more than this man does, i'd have helped you trick him instead of helping him trick you; but he gave me my wages before dinner and you gave me nothing, so here you are, and i wouldn't like to be keeping your pair of trousers warm! i tell you, this ramsden effendi is an awful fellow, who will stick at nothing, and i'm worse because i'm honest and do what i'm paid to do!" i took the precaution of putting my arm around rene, for it was likely that he had another weapon hidden somewhere, and the obvious thing for him to do was to shoot the two of us and make a bolt for it. for a second i thought i felt his hand moving; but it was jeremy's, searching all his pockets and feeling for hidden steel. so i pulled out a cigar and lit a match. of course, anyone's face looks ghastly by that sort of sudden light; but rene's was a picture of hate, rage, baffled cunning and fear, such as i had never seen; his eyes looked like an animal's at bay, and the way his lips parted from his teeth conveyed the impression that he was searching his mind wildly for a desperate remedy that would ruin all concerned except himself. but it was only a stale old recourse that he had. in a man's extremity he turns by instinct to his own tin gods for help, and you may read his whole heart and religion then. "very well; very well," he said, as if he were on the rack, speaking hurriedly to get it over with. "i make the sacrifice. you will find my money in an inner vest pocket underneath my vest. it is a life's savings. take it, and let me go. it is not much--only a little--i am not a rich man--i had hoped to be, but it would mean a fortune to you no doubt. take it and be merciful; give me back the smaller packet of the two, keep the larger, and let me go." out of curiosity i reached inside his vest and pulled out both packets. jeremy struck a match. the smaller packet contained a draft on paris for a quarter of a million francs. the larger held nothing but correspondence. i returned them to him. "listen!" i said. "i've never yet murdered a man, so if you provide me with another excuse for murdering you, you'll be a virgin victim. keep that in mind!" chapter xv "catch the alfies napping and kick hell out of 'em!" you're no doubt familiar with the fact that the accounts given by two men who have witnessed a battle from the same angle will differ widely, not only in minor detail but in fundamentals; so you won't look to me for confirmation of any one of the countless stories that have seen the light of print, pretending to explain how the french won damascus so easily and unexpectedly. i was only on the inside, looking outward as it were; the fellows on the outside, looking in, would naturally give a different explanation. then you must bear in mind that this is a day of "official" accounts that would make a limping dog of ananias. when the general staff of an invading army controls all the wires and all lines of communication you may believe what they choose to tell you, if you wish. but you don't have to, as they say in maine. and i admit that all i saw was from a curtained auto as we swayed and bumped over broken roads, with an occasional interlude when jeremy and i got out to lend our shoulders and help the arab driver heave the car out of a slough. my clearest memory is of that arab--silent, stolid, staring like an owl straight forward most of the time--but a perfect marvel in emergencies, when he would suddenly spring to life, swear a living streak of brimstone blasphemy in high falsetto, and perform a driver's miracle. by two hours after midnight we were running on four flat tires; and i've got the name of the maker of those wheels for future reference and use. one spring broke, but we went forward sailor-fashion, with a jury- rig of chain and rope, after getting more gas from some christian monks, who swore they hadn't any and wept when one of feisul's officers demonstrated that they had. you couldn't see any monastery; i don't even know that there was one--nothing but lean faces with tonsured tops that nodded in unison and lied fearfully. the gunfire began to be heavy about that time, although nothing like the thousand-throated bedlam of flanders. as neither side could see the other and neither had any ranges marked, my guess is that the french were advertising their advance--doing a little propaganda that was cheap for all concerned except the tax-payers. and the syrian army was shooting back crazily, sending over long shots on the off chance, more to encourage themselves than for any other reason. the sensation was rather like riding in an ambulance away from the battle instead of toward it, for you couldn't see anything and you had a sense of helpless detachment from it all, as if a power you couldn't control were carrying you away from a familiar destiny to one that you couldn't imagine. it wasn't so much like a dream as like a different, real existence that you couldn't understand because it bore no kind of relation to anything in the past. anyhow, we bumped and blundered on until dawn came, streaked with wonderful rolling mist, and gave a glimpse at intervals of a wide plain sloping toward the west, with long lines of infantry and here and there guns extended across it in parallels drawn north and south. the rifle firing started ten minutes after dawn, and it was all over in less than half an hour; but i can't describe exactly how the finish came, because the wind was toward us and the morning mist blew along in blanketing white masses that only allowed you a momentary glimpse and then shut off the view. we were about a mile behind the firing-line and i couldn't see feisul's car or any of the others. for the moment there was just one clear line of vision, straight from where i sat to the nearest infantry. i could see about fifty yards of the line and perhaps that many men; and they were blazing away furiously over a low earthwork, although i couldn't see a sign of the french. there was hardly any artillery firing at that time. suddenly without any obvious reason the men whose backs i was watching broke and ran. the mist obscured them instantly and the line of vision shifted, so that bit by bit i saw i dare say a mile of the firing line. the whole lot were running for their lives and, look where i would, there wasn't a sign of a frenchman anywhere. i should say it took about ten minutes for the first of them to reach the dirt road, where our autos stood hub-deep in mud, and by that time we had shoved and pulley-hauled them into movement, our engines making as much row as a nest of machine-guns as they struggled against the strain. we didn't want to be swamped under that tide of fugitives. but they took no notice of us. they had thrown away their weapons and were running for home with eyes distended and nothing in mind but to put distance between there and the enemy. i jumped out of the car and seized one man. "what are you running from? what has happened?" i demanded, holding him harder the more he struggled. "poison gas!" he gasped, and i let him go. i thought i caught a whiff of the darned stuff then, but that may have been imagination. "poison gas!" i said, returning to the car, and rene made a fine exhibition of himself, smothering his head under the foxlined overcoat and screaming. he got right down on the floor of the car and lay there huddled and gasping--which may have been a sensible precaution; i don't know. there was no time just then to bother with him. the flukey morning breeze shifted several points. the mist curled suddenly and began to flow diagonally across our line of cars instead of toward us, and from one moment to the next you could see straight along the road for maybe a mile or more. there was a sight worth seeing-- feisul's cavalry in full rout--running away from ghosts by the look of it--their formation hardly yet broken, horse and man racing with the wind and a scattering of unhorsed fugitives streaming behind like a comet's tail. according to grim, who should know, that cavalry division was the kingpin of feisul's plan. he had intended to lead a raid in person, swooping down the french flank to their rear; but the three staff traitors, daulch, hattin and aubck, sent forward the previous evening to place the division and hold it ready, had simply tipped the french off to the whole plan and at the critical moment of feisul's arrival on the scene had ordered the sauve-qui-peut. i don't believe the french used more than a can or two of gas. i don't believe they had more than a few cans of it so far advanced. but the sauve-qui-peut might have been useless without feisul's capture, for he was just the man to rally a routed army and snatch victory out of a defeat. nobody knew better than feisul the weakness of the french communications, and the work of those three traitors was only half done when the cavalry took to its heels. the one man who could possibly save the day had to be bagged and handed over. i didn't realize all that, of course, in the twinkling of an eye, as they say you do in a climax. maybe i've never faced a climax. i'm no psychologist and not at all given to review of sudden situations in the abstract. there was a fight, or a riot, or something like it going on near the head of our line of autos. the first two or three had come to a standstill; several in the middle of the line were trying to wheel outward and bolt for it behind the fleeing cavalry, and those at the tail end were blocked by one that had broken down. of course everybody was yelling at the top of his lungs and the hurrying shreds of blown mist further confounded the confusion. so jeremy and i ran forward, plunging through the mud and knocking over whoever blocked our way. it was rather fun--like the football field at school. but one man--a syrian officer--stood near the last of the forward cars with the evident purpose of standing off interference. he took careful aim at me with a revolver, fired point-blank, and missed. i forgot all about my own pistol and went for him with a laugh and a yell of sheer exhilaration. there's an eighth of a ton of me, mostly bone and muscle, so it isn't a sinecure to have to stop my fist when the rest of the bulk is under way behind it. i landed so hard on his nose, and with such tremendous impetus, that he hadn't enough initial stability to take the impact and bring me up on my feet. he went down like a ninepin, i on top of him, laughing with mud in my teeth, and jeremy landed on top of the two of us, holding the skirts of his cloak in both hands as he jumped. jeremy picked up the fellow's revolver and threw it out of sight, and the two of us ran on again--too late by now to help in the emergency, but in time for the next event. grim had managed everything, although he was bleeding, and smiling serenely through the blood. hadad was there, not smiling at all, but bleached white with excitement; he had brought a number of arab officers with him, six or seven of whom were standing on the running- board of the front car and all arguing with feisul, who sat back with his feet and hands tied, guarded by narayan singh. at grim's feet--dead, with bullets through their heads--were three syrian staff officers. they were the traitors daulch, hattin and aubek. grim's pistol was in his right hand and had been used. there had been a first-class fight, all over in two minutes; for the traitors hadn't arrived on the scene without assistants. unfortunately for them, hadad had turned up at the same moment with his loyalists. narayan singh had jumped from the car behind and seized feisul, thrown him to the floor out of the path of bullets, and tied his arms. it was actually mabel, hardly realizing what she was doing but obeying the sikh's orders yelled in her ear as he struggled to keep his wiry prisoner down, who tied the king's feet, using her arab girdle. feisul, of course, was all for dying at the head of a remnant of his men. that would be the first impulse of any decent leader in like circumstance. but his loyal friends, eager to die with him if they must, but unwilling to die at all if there were an alternative, were overwhelming him with streams of words and promises. suddenly two of them jumped into the car and began to untie his arms and feet. grim, looking swiftly to right and left, saw jeremy and pounced on him so fiercely that an onlooker might have guessed another fight to the death was under way. too excited to say what he had in mind, he tugged at jeremy's clothes. "i get you, jim--i get you!" jeremy laughed gaily, and in ten seconds had stripped himself down to his underwear. hadad must have been discussing details of the plan with grim along the road; for he got busy at the same time, persuading feisul to part with his garments--not that his consent really mattered at the moment; they were pulled off him by half a dozen hands at once, and jeremy had the best of that bargain all right, for in addition to silk headdress and a fine black arab full-dress coat, there was linen of a sort you can't buy--better stuff than bishops wear and clean, which jeremy's own wasn't. the time it takes to read this gives a totally false impression of the speed. the whole thing took place, i should say, within two minutes from the time when i punched that syrian's nose until mabel and narayan singh stood beside me watching hadad, two more arabs and feisul drive away, with a second car crowded full of loyalists in close attendance. by that time jeremy was dressed in feisul's clothes; and though he didn't look a bit like feisul from a yard away, in the mist at ten yards, provided you were looking for feisul, you'd have taken your bible oath he was the man; for he had the gesture and mannerism copied to perfection. however, standing there wasn't going to increase the real feisul's chance of escaping. the sooner we got caught, the quicker the french would discover that our man had given them the slip. our business was to give the french a long chase in the wrong direction, and those bogged autos weren't ideal for the purpose. but they were the only means in sight just then, and we had to bear in mind that message i had made rene send, warning the french to look out for an auto with a white flag and two civilians together with feisul and lawrence. so we picked out the two best that remained, pitched rene and his basket of provisions into the front one with mabel and jeremy, piled narayan singh in after them to take my place as the second civilian, and started them off straight forward, grim and i following in a second car after i had paid our former arab driver handsomely and sent him off grinning to give a lift to as many runaways as the car would hold. we learned afterward that the rascal made a fortune, charging as much as fifty pounds sterling for the trip halfway back to damascus, at which point the car collapsed. they say he carried eleven officers that far, bought two wives with the proceeds and escaped all the way to a village near mecca, where his home was. you know how bewildering and tricky those early mists are when they start to roll up before the wind. we had hardly got going when the whole mass seemed to shift in one great cloud, covering the fleeing troops and incidentally feisul, but leaving us in our two autos high and dry, as it were, in full view of the french. and they were advancing by that time. i couldn't see more than a division of them that we would have to reckon with--nearly all algerians--and they looked dead-weary. i guess they had forced the pace in advance of the main body in order to take advantage of the treason of feisul's officers. they came slouching forward with their rifles at the trail and a screen of skirmishers thrown out a quarter of a mile or so ahead. there were cavalry and guns far off on their right, evidently trying to work around to the flank of the fleeing array, but those were much too far away to trouble us and were going in the wrong direction. rolling banks of mist shut off the farther view to westward and there was no guessing where the main french force might be, and for all i know it hadn't started from the coast yet. fortune came to our rescue with one riderless horse, a splendid arab gelding tied by the bridle to the wheel of a water-cart and left behind in the stampede. jeremy appropriated it, riding arab fashion with short stirrups, and i wouldn't have blamed feisul's own brother for falsely identifying him at ten yards. he was born mischievous and he caricatured feisul on horseback as if he were acting for the movies. i guess the french officers had good glasses with them, for jeremy had hardly mounted when the advancing algerians opened a hot fire on us. the whole division surely wouldn't have blazed away, with machine-guns and all, at two cars and a man on horseback unless someone had passed the word along that feisul was in full view. so grim and i abandoned our car, driver and all, and jumped into jeremy's place. it wasn't more than two hundred yards to the top of a gentle rise, over which we disappeared from view; and just as we bumped over it i wrenched out the white tablecloth in which rene's chicken and stuff was wrapped and waved it violently. then, lord, what a sight! below us, sheltered between two flanking hillocks, was about a division of feisul's arab infantry, packing up sulkily, preparing to follow the retreat. it was a safe bet the french didn't know they were there, and i dare say the same thought occurred to every one of us the same instant. mabel thought of it. i know i did. but jeremy voiced it first, heeling his horse up beside us. "what do you say, jim? i bet you i can rally that gang. shall i lead 'em and lick hell out of the algies?" but grim shook his head. "you might, but the game is to pull the plug properly. get this lot on the run. the less fighting, the less risk of drasticism when the french get to damascus. chase 'em off home!" so jeremy did it; and that, i believe, accounts for a story that got in the newspapers about feisul trying to spring a surprise on the french at the last minute. some french officers in armored cars came over the brow of the hill in pursuit of us--three cars, three officers, three machine-guns, and about a dozen men. one car quit on the hill-top, so i suppose it broke down, but its occupants must have seen jeremy careering up and down the line encouraging those sulky arabs to get a move on, and i suppose they told tales afterwards to a newspaper correspondent at the base. anyhow, the two pursuing armored cars didn't dare come near enough to be dangerous until we had followed the retreating arab regiments for about a mile, and the algerians appeared over the hill-top, coming very slowly. a long-range rifle-fire commenced, the arabs returning it scrappily as they retreated; and we made believe there were other regiments to be shepherded, steering a northward course downhill toward broken ground that couldn't have suited our purpose better. by the way those armored cars came after us, keeping their distance, it was clear enough that they suspected an ambush. so we had a clear start and led them a dance in and out among boulders and the branches of a watercourse, jeremy galloping ahead to spy a course out. whenever they came in view we acted a little piece for them, making rene wave the white cloth while i protected him and held off mabel and grim, who went through the motions of trying to brain me with pistol butts. two or three times they opened fire, more by way of forcing a surrender, i think, than with any intention of hitting us; they wanted to take feisul alive. it was like a game of fox and geese, and with jeremy scouting ahead we could have kept them dodging us for hours if we hadn't run out of gas. then we abandoned the car and took refuge in a cave that stank as if it had been a tomb for generations. the french drew up their cars fifty yards away with machine-guns covering the cave mouth; and after we were sure they weren't going to squirt a stream of lead at us, i went out with the tablecloth to negotiate terms. i didn't want to go, but grim seemed to think they'd understand my french. of course, there wasn't anything really to argue about, but i played for time, because every minute was of value to the real feisul, speeding on his way to british territory. the french officer who did the talking for his side--a little squat, pale, pug-faced fellow, who gave the impression of having risen from the ranks without learning polite manners on the way, agreed to accept our surrender and spare our lives for the time being; and by that time the smell in the cave had nearly overcome our party, so they all marched out. and lord! the french captain was spiteful when he discovered that jeremy wasn't feisul after all. he swore like a wet cat, accused mabel of being a spy, took away our basket of provisions, and i think would have shot jeremy out of hand if jeremy hadn't started clowning and made the other frenchmen laugh. laughter and murder no more mix than oil and water. he did what he called a harem dance for them, misusing his stomach outrageously, and the incongruity of that by a descendant of the prophet took all the sting out of the situation. but they burned our abandoned car in sheer ill temper before crowding us into their own. and they shot the good horse. the joy-ride that followed was rather like the kind they give pigs on the way to the sausage shop--hurried and not intended to be mirthful. "what's the use of losing tempers?" i asked captain jacques daudet, who had captured us. he sat on my knees, with his pistol pressed against my chest. "why not regard the whole thing as a joke? you've done your best and nobody can blame you. besides, what can possibly happen? what do you suppose they'll do to us?" he shrugged his shoulders and his little cold blue eyes met mine. "you will all be shot, of course," he answered. "after that..." he shrugged his shoulders again. but he cast no gloom; for jeremy kept the lot of us, french too, excepting daudet, in roars of laughter for ten miles until we reached temporary headquarters, where a born gentleman in a peaked red cap with gold on it sat on a camp-stool directing things. he recognized grim at the first glance and knew him for an american in british service. he looked grim in the eye and smiled. we told our story in turns, interrupting one another and being interrupted by rene. the officer turned on the banker savagely, ordered him sent to the rear, and smiled at grim again. then he picked up the banker's belongings, including the two packages, and tossed them after him with an air of utter contempt. whereat he smiled at all of us. "and you are quite sure that the emir feisul has escaped?" he asked. "well, there are those whom the news will annoy, which is too bad, but can't be helped. for myself, i cannot say that i shall shed tears. madame..." he looked straight at mabel. "major..." he met grim's eyes and smiled. "messieurs ..." it was my turn, and narayan singh's; his steady stare was good and made you feel like shaking hands with him. "monsieur scapin (clown)..." that was meant for jeremy, and they both laughed. "you have been adroit, but do you think i could depend on your discretion?" we did our best to look discreet. "you see, madame et messieurs, this is not warfare. we desire to accomplish a definite object with as little unpleasantness as possible. i shall regret the necessity of sending you to beirut, but that is for your safety. an additional and very sound precaution which you yourselves might take would be to preserve complete silence regarding the events of the last two days. subject to that condition, you will be given facilities for leaving beirut by sea in any direction you may wish. do we understand one another? good! now, let me see whether i have your names correctly." he carefully wrote them down all wrong, described us as noncombatants, who should be allowed to leave the country, warned jeremy that in a king's clothes he looked too "intriguing," provided plain clothes for him, returned our belongings (except the basket of provisions, which he kept) and sent us off in an ambulance on the first leg of the journey to beirut, whence we got away in a coastwise steamer within the week. "not all the french are swabs!" said jeremy grievously as we took our leave of him. grim agreed. "not all of 'em. let's see--there was the marne, the aisne, the somme, verdun..." the end john dene of toronto a comedy of whitehall by herbert jenkins author of "bindle" herbert jenkins limited york street london s.w. a herbert jenkins' book _fifth printing_ printed in great britain by butler & tanner ltd., frome and london to my friend and colleague charles askew who has been as strenuous as the times themselves and infinitely more cheerful mcmxv-mcmxix contents chap. i. the coming of john dene ii. john dene's way iii. department z. iv. gingering up the admiralty v. john dene leaves whitehall vi. mr. montagu naylor of streatham vii. mr. naylor receives a visitor viii. dorothy west at home ix. department z. at work x. john dene goes to kew xi. the strangeness of john dene xii. the _destroyer_ ready for sea xiii. the disappearance of john dene xiv. the hue and cry xv. mr. llewellyn john becomes alarmed xvi. finlay's s.o.s. xvii. malcolm sage casts his net xviii. the return of john dene xix. commander john dene goes to bournemouth xx. john dene's proposal xxi. marjorie rogers pays a call what this story is about john dene comes to england with a great invention, and the intention of gingering-up the admiralty. his directness and unconventional methods bewilder and embarrass the officials at whitehall, where, according to him, most of the jobs are held by those "whose great-grandfathers had a pleasant way of saying how-do-you-do to a prince." suddenly john dene disappears, and the whole civilised world is amazed at an offer of £ , for news of him. scotland yard is disorganised by tons of letters and thousands of callers. questions are asked in the house, the government becomes anxious, only department z. retains its equanimity. by the way, what did happen to john dene of toronto? for list of books by the same author, see page . john dene of toronto chapter i the coming of john dene "straight along, down the steps, bear to the left and you'll find the admiralty on the opposite side of the way." john dene thanked the policeman, gave the cigar in his mouth a twist with his tongue, and walked along lower regent street towards waterloo place. at the bottom of the duke of york's steps, he crossed the road, turned to the left and paused. nowhere could he see an entrance sufficiently impressive to suggest the admiralty. just ahead was a dingy and unpretentious doorway with a policeman standing outside; but that he decided could not be the entrance to the admiralty. as he gazed at it, a fair-haired girl came out of the doorway and walked towards him. "excuse me," said john dene, lifting his hat, "but is that the admiralty you've just come out of?" there was an almost imperceptible stiffening in the girl's demeanour; but a glance at the homely figure of john dene, with its ill-made clothes, reassured her. "yes, that is the admiralty," she replied gravely in a voice that caused john dene momentarily to forget the admiralty and all its works. "much obliged," he said, again lifting his hat as she walked away; but instead of continuing on his way, john dene stood watching the girl until she disappeared up the duke of york's steps. then once more twirling his cigar in his mouth and hunching his shoulders, he walked towards the doorway she had indicated. "this the admiralty?" he enquired of the policeman. "yes, sir," was the reply. "did you want to see any one?" john dene looked at the man in surprise. "why should i be here if i didn't?" he asked. "i want to see the first lord." the man's manner underwent a change. "if you'll step inside, sir, you'll see an attendant." john dene stepped inside and repeated his request, this time to a frock-coated attendant. "have you an appointment?" enquired the man. "no," responded john dene indifferently. the attendant hesitated. it was not customary for unknown callers to demand to see the first lord without an appointment. after a momentary pause the man indicated a desk on which lay some printed slips. "will you please fill in your name, sir, and state your business." "state my business," exclaimed john dene, "not on your life." "i'm afraid----" began the man. "never mind what you're afraid of," said john dene, "just you take my name up to the first lord. here, i'll write it down." seizing a pen he wrote his name, "john dene of toronto," and then underneath, "i've come three thousand miles to tell you something; perhaps it's worth three minutes of your time to listen." "there, take that up and i'll wait," he said. the attendant read the message, then beckoning to another frock-coated servitor, he handed him the paper, at the same time whispering some instructions. john dene looked about him with interest. he was frankly disappointed. he had conceived the administrative buildings of the greatest navy in the world as something grand and impressive; yet here was the british admiralty with an entrance that would compare unfavourably with a second-rate hotel in toronto. he turned suddenly and almost ran into a shifty-eyed little man in a grey tweed suit, who had entered the admiralty a moment after him. the man apologised profusely as john dene eyed him grimly. he had become aware of the man's interest in his colloquy with the attendant, and of the way in which he had endeavoured to catch sight of what was written on the slip of paper. john dene proceeded to stride up and down with short, jerky steps, twirling his unlit cigar round in his mouth. "excuse me, sir," said the attendant, approaching, "but smoking is not permitted." "that so?" remarked john dene without interest, as he continued to roll his cigar in his mouth. "your cigar, sir," continued the man. "it's out." john dene still continued to look about him. the attendant retired nonplussed. the rule specifically referred to smoking, not to carrying unlit cigars in the mouth. at the end of five minutes, the attendant who had taken up john dene's name returned, and whispered to the doorkeeper. "if you will follow the attendant, sir, he will take you to see sir lyster's secretary, mr. blair." "mr.----" began john dene, then breaking off he followed the man up the stairs, and along a corridor, at the end of which another frock-coated man appeared from a room with a small glass door. he in turn took charge of the visitor, having received his whispered instructions from the second attendant. john dene was then shown into a large room with a central table, and requested to take a seat. he was still engaged in gazing about him when a door at the further end of the room opened and there entered a fair man, with an obvious stoop, a monocle, a heavy drooping moustache, and the nose of a duke in a novelette. "mr. john dene?" he asked, looking at the slip of paper in his hand. "sure," was the response, as john dene continued to twirl the cigar in his mouth, with him always a sign either of thought or of irritation. "you wish to see the first lord?" continued the fair man. "i am his secretary. will you give me some idea of your business?" "no, i won't," was the blunt response. mr. blair was momentarily disconcerted by the uncompromising nature of the retort, but quickly recovered himself. "i am afraid sir lyster is very busy this morning," he said, diplomatically. "if you----" "look here," interrupted john dene, "i've come three thousand miles to tell him something; if he hasn't time to listen, then i'll not waste my time; but before you decide to send me about my business, you just ring up the agent-general for can'da and ask who john dene of t'ronto is; maybe you'll learn something." "but will you not give me some idea----" began the secretary. "no, i won't," was the obstinate reply. "here," he cried with sudden inspiration, "give me some paper and a pen, and i'll write a note." mr. blair sighed his relief; he was a man of peace. he quickly supplied the caller's demands. slowly he indited his letter; then, taking a case from his pocket, he extracted an envelope which he enclosed with the letter in another envelope, and finally addressed it to "the first lord of the admiralty." "give him this," he said, turning to mr. blair, "and say i'm in a hurry." nothing but a long line of ancestors prevented mr. blair from gasping. instead he took the note with a diplomatic smile. "you wouldn't do for t'ronto," muttered john dene as the first lord's private secretary left the room. two minutes later he returned. "sir lyster will see you, mr. dene," he said with a smile. "will you come this way? i'm sorry if----" "don't be sorry," said john dene patiently; "you're just doing your job as best you can." whilst john dene was being led by mr. blair to the first lord's private room, sir lyster was re-reading the astonishing note that had been sent in to him, which ran: "dear sir,-- "i am john dene of toronto, i have come three thousand miles to tell you how to stop the german u-boats. if i do not succeed, you can give the enclosed £ , to the red cross. "yours faithfully, "john dene." sir lyster grayne was a man for whom tradition had its uses; but he never allowed it to dictate to him. the letter that had just been brought in was, he decided, written by a man of strong individuality, and the amazing offer it contained, to forfeit fifty thousand pounds, impressed him. these were strange and strenuous days, when every suggestion or invention must be examined and deliberated upon. sir lyster grayne prided himself upon his open-mindedness; incidentally he had a wholesome fear of questions being asked in the house. as the door opened he rose and held out his hand. sir lyster always assumed a democratic air as a matter of political expediency. "mr. dene," he murmured, as he motioned his visitor to a seat. "pleased to meet you," said john dene as he shook hands, and then took the seat indicated. "sorry to blow in on you like this," he continued, "but my business is important, and i've come three thousand miles about it." "so i understand," said sir lyster quietly. john dene looked at him, and in that look summed him up as he had previously summed up his secretary. "you wouldn't do for t'ronto," was his unuttered verdict. john dene "placed" a man irrevocably by determining whether or no he would do for toronto. "first of all," said sir lyster, "i think i will return this," handing to john dene the envelope containing the cheque for fifty thousand pounds. "i thought it would tickle you some," he remarked grimly as he replaced the cheque in his pocket-book; "but i'll cash in if i don't make good," he added. "you know anything about submarines?" he demanded; directness was john dene's outstanding characteristic. "er----" began the first lord. "you don't," announced john dene with conviction. "i'm afraid----" began sir lyster. "then you'd better send for someone who does," was the uncompromising rejoinder. sir lyster looked at his visitor in surprise, hesitated a moment, then pressing a button said, as mr. blair appeared: "will you ask admiral heyworth to come here immediately?" mr. blair retired. "admiral heyworth," explained sir lyster, "is the admiralty authority on submarines." john dene nodded. there was a pause. "wouldn't you like to ring up the agent-general for can'da and find out who i am?" suggested john dene. "i don't think that is necessary, mr. dene," was the reply. "we will hear what you have to say first. ha, heyworth!" as the admiral entered, "this is mr. john dene of toronto, who has come to tell us something about a discovery of his." admiral heyworth, a little bald-headed man with beetling brows and a humorous mouth, took the hand held out to him. "pleased to meet you," said john dene, then without a pause he continued: "i want your promise that this is all between us three, that you won't go and breeze it about." he looked from sir lyster to admiral heyworth. sir lyster bowed, admiral heyworth said, "certainly." "now," said john dene, turning to the admiral, "what's the greatest difficulty you're up against in submarine warfare?" "well," began admiral heyworth, "there are several. for instance----" "there's only one that matters," broke in john dene; "your boats are blind when submerged beyond the depth of their periscopes. that so?" the admiral nodded. "well," continued john dene, "i want you to understand i'm not asking a red cent from anybody, and i won't accept one. what i'm going to tell you about has already cost me well over a million dollars, and if you look at me you'll see i'm not the man to put a million dollars into patent fly-catchers, or boots guaranteed to button themselves." sir lyster and the admiral exchanged puzzled glances, but said nothing. "suppose the germans were able to sink a ship without even showing their periscopes?" john dene looked directly at the admiral. "it would place us in a very precarious position," was the grave reply. "oh, shucks!" cried john dene in disgust. "it would queer the whole outfit. you soldiers and sailors can never see beyond your own particular backyards. it would mighty soon finish the war." he almost shouted the words in the emphasis he gave them. "it would mean that troops couldn't be brought from america; it would mean that supplies couldn't be brought over here. it would mean good-bye to the whole sunflower-patch. do you get me?" he looked from sir lyster to the admiral. "i think," said sir lyster, "that perhaps you exaggerate a lit----" "i don't," said john dene. "i know what i'm talking about. now, why is the submarine blind? because," he answered his own question, "no one has ever overcome the difficulty of the density of water. i have." admiral heyworth started visibly, and sir lyster bent forward eagerly. "you have!" cried admiral heyworth. "sure," was the self-complacent reply. "i've got a boat fitted with an apparatus that'll sink any ship that comes along, and she needn't show her periscope to do it either. what's more, she can see under water. if i don't deliver the goods"--john dene rummaged in his pocket once more and produced the envelope containing the cheque--"here's fifty thousand pounds you can give to the red cross." sir lyster and admiral heyworth gazed at each other wordless. john dene sat back in his chair and chewed the end of his cigar. sir lyster fumbled for his eye-glass, and when he had found it, stuck it in his eye and gazed at john dene as if he had been some marvellous being from another world. the admiral said nothing and did nothing. he was visualising the possibilities arising out of such a discovery. it was john dene who broke in upon their thoughts. "the huns have got it coming," he remarked grimly. "but----" began admiral heyworth. "listen," said john dene. "i'm an electrical engineer. i'm worth more millions than you've got toes. i saw that under water the submarine is only a blind fish with a sting in its tail. give it eyes and it becomes a real factor--_under water_." he paused, revolving his cigar in his mouth. his listeners nodded eagerly. "well," he continued, "i set to work to give her eyes. on the st. lawrence river, just below quebec, i've got a submarine that can see. her search-lights----" "but how have you done it?" broke in the admiral. "that," remarked john dene drily, "is my funeral." "we must put this before the inventions board," said sir lyster. "let me see, this is friday. can you be here on tuesday, mr. dene?" "no!" sir lyster started at the decision in john dene's tone. "would wednesday----" "look here," broke in john dene, "i come from t'ronto, and in can'da when we've got a good thing we freeze on to it. you've got to decide this thing within twenty-four hours, yes or no. unless i cable to my agent in washin'ton by noon to-morrow, he'll make the same offer i've made you to the states, and they'll be that eager to say 'yep,' that they'll swallow their gum." "but, mr. dene----" began sir lyster. "i've been in this country fourteen hours," proceeded john dene calmly, "and i can see that you all want gingering-up. why the hell can't you decide on a thing at once, when you've got everything before you? if a man offers you a pedigree-pup for nothing, and you want a pedigree-pup, wouldn't you just hold out your hand?" john dene looked from one to the other. "but this is not exactly a matter of a pedigree-pup," suggested admiral heyworth diplomatically. "it's a matter of--er----" "i see you haven't got me," said john dene with the air of a patient schoolmaster with a stupid pupil. "you," he addressed himself in particular to sir lyster, "have said in public that the most difficult spot in connexion with the submarine trouble is between the shetlands and the norwegian coast. you can't help the u-boats slipping through submerged. suppose the _destroyer_--that's the name of my boat--is sort of hanging around there, _with eyes_ and some other little things she's got, what then?" "both sir lyster and i appreciate all you say," said the admiral; "but, well, we are a little old fashioned perhaps in our methods here." he smiled deprecatingly. "well," said john dene, rising, "you lose the odd trick, that's all; and," he added significantly as he took a step towards the door, "when it all comes out, you'll lose your jobs too." "really, mr. dene," protested sir lyster, flushing slightly. john dene swung round on his heel. "if you'd spent three years of your life and over a million dollars on a boat, and come three thousand miles to offer it to someone for nothing, and were told to wait till god knows which day what week, well, you'd be rattled too. in t'ronto we size up a man before he's had time to say he's pleased to meet us, and we'd buy a mountain quicker than you'd ask your neighbour to pass the marmalade at breakfast." whilst john dene was speaking, sir lyster had been revolving the matter swiftly in his mind. he was impressed by his visitor's fearlessness. a self-made man himself, he admired independence and freedom of speech in others. he was not oblivious to the truth of john dene's hint of what would happen if another nation, even an allied nation, were to acquire a valuable invention that had been declined by great britain. he remembered the fokker scandal. he decided to temporise. "if," continued john dene, "i was asking for money, i'd understand; but i won't take a red cent, and more than that i go bail to the tune of a quarter of a million dollars that i deliver the goods." he strode up and down the room, twirling his cigar, and flinging his short, sharp sentences at the two men, who, to his mind, stood as barriers to an allied triumph. "if you will sit down, mr. dene," said sir lyster suavely, "i'll explain." john dene hesitated for a moment, then humped himself into a chair, gazing moodily before him. "we quite appreciate your--er--patriotism and public-spiritedness in----" "here, cut it out," broke in john dene. "do you want the _destroyer_ or don't you?" sir lyster recoiled as if he had been struck. he had been first lord too short a time for the gilt to be worn off his dignity. seeing his chief about to reply in a way that he suspected might end the interview, admiral heyworth interposed. "may i suggest that under the circumstances we consult mr. llewellyn john?" "that's bully," broke in john dene without giving sir lyster a chance of replying. "they say he's got pep." bowing to the inevitable, sir lyster picked up the telephone-receiver. "get me through to the prime minister," he said. the three men waited in silence for the response. as the bell rang, sir lyster swiftly raised the receiver to his ear. "yes, the prime minister. sir lyster grayne speaking." there was a pause. "grayne speaking, yes. can i come round with admiral heyworth and an--er--inventor? it's very important." he listened for a moment, then added, "yes, we'll come at once." "now, mr. dene," said sir lyster, as he rose and picked up his hat, "i hope we shall be able to--er----" he did not finish the sentence; but led the way to the door. the three men walked across the horse guards quadrangle towards downing street. the only words uttered were when sir lyster asked john dene if he had seen the pelicans. john dene looked at him in amazement. he had heard that in british official circles it was considered bad taste to discuss the war except officially, and he decided that he was now discovering what was really the matter with the british empire. as the trio crossed the road to mount the steps leading to downing street, the girl passed of whom john dene had asked the way. her eyes widened slightly as she recognised john dene's two companions; they widened still more when john dene lifted his hat, followed a second later by sir lyster, whilst admiral heyworth saluted. in her surprise she nearly ran into a little shifty-eyed man, in a grey suit, who, with an elaborate flourish of his hat, hastened to apologise for her carelessness. "that's the girl who showed me the way to your back-door," john dene announced nonchalantly. sir lyster exchanged a rapid glance with the admiral. "if i was running this show," continued john dene, "i'd get that door enlarged a bit and splash some paint about;" and for the first time since they had met john dene smiled up at sir lyster, a smile that entirely changed the sombre cast of his features. on arriving at no, downing street, the three callers were conducted straight into mr. llewellyn john's room. as they entered, he rose quickly from his table littered with papers, and with a smile greeted his colleagues. sir lyster then introduced john dene. mr. llewellyn john grasped john dene's hand, and turned on him that bewilderingly sunny smile which mr. chappeldale had once said ought in itself to win the war. "sit down, mr. dene," said mr. llewellyn john, indicating a chair; "it's always a pleasure to meet any one from canada. what should we have done without you canadians?" he murmured half to himself. "mr. dene tells us that he has solved the submarine problem," said sir lyster, as he and admiral heyworth seated themselves. instantly mr. llewellyn john became alert. the social smile vanished from his features, giving place to the look of a keen-witted celt, eager to pounce upon something that would further his schemes. he turned to john dene interrogatingly. "perhaps mr. dene will explain," suggested sir lyster. "sure," said john dene, "your submarine isn't a submarine at all, it's a submersible. under water it's useless, because it can't see. as well call a seal a fish. a submarine must be able to fight under water, and until it can it won't be any more a submarine than i'm a tunny fish." mr. llewellyn john nodded in eager acquiescence. "i've spent over a million dollars, and now i've got a boat that can see under water and fight under water and do a lot of other fancy tricks." mr. llewellyn john sprang to his feet. "you have. tell me, where is it? this is wonderful, wonderful! it takes us a year forward." "it's on the st. lawrence river, just below quebec," explained john dene. "and how long will it take to construct say a hundred?" asked mr. llewellyn john eagerly, dropping back into his chair. "longer than any of us are going to live," replied john dene grimly. mr. llewellyn john looked at his visitor in surprise. sir lyster and the admiral exchanged meaning glances. the prime minister was experiencing what in toronto were known as "john's snags." "but if you've made one----" began mr. llewellyn john. "there's only going to be one," announced john dene grimly. "but----" "you can but like a he-goat," announced john dene, "still there'll be only our _destroyer_." sir lyster smiled inwardly. his bruised dignity was recovering at the sight of the surprised look on the face of the prime minister at john dene's comparison. "perhaps mr. dene will explain to us the difficulties," insinuated sir lyster. "sure," said john dene; then turning to admiral heyworth, "what would happen if germany got a submarine that could see and do fancy stunts?" he demanded. "it might embarrass----" began the admiral. "shucks!" cried john dene, "it would bust us up. what about the american transports, food-ships, munitions and the rest of it. they'd be attacked all along the three thousand miles route, and would go down like neck-oil on a permit night. you get me?" suddenly mr. llewellyn john struck the table with his fist. "you're right, mr. dene," he cried; "they might capture one and copy it. you remember the gothas," he added, turning to sir lyster. "sure," was john dene's laconic reply. "but how can we be sure they will not capture the _destroyer_?" enquired sir lyster. "because there'll be john dene and a hundred-weight of high-explosive on board," said john dene drily as he chewed at the end of his cigar. "then you propose----" began admiral heyworth. "i'll put you wise. this is my offer. i'm willing to send u-boats to merry hell; but only on my own terms. i won't take a cent for my boat or anything else. it's my funeral. the _destroyer_ is now in canada, with german spies buzzing around like flies over a dead rat. if you agree, i'll cable to my boys to bring the _destroyer_, and it won't be done without some fancy shooting, i take it! you," turning to admiral heyworth, "will appoint an officer, two if you like, to come aboard and count the bag. i'll supply the crew, and you'll give me a commander's commission in the navy. now, is it a deal?" "but----" began sir lyster. "you make me tired," said john dene wearily. "is it or is it not a deal?" he enquired of mr. llewellyn john. with an effort the prime minister seemed to gather himself together. he found the pace a little breathless, even for him. "i think it might be arranged, grayne," he said tactfully. "mr. dene knows his own invention and we might enrol his crew in the navy; what do you think?" mr. llewellyn john abounded in tact. "i take it that you understand navigation, mr. dene?" ventured the admiral. "sure," was the reply. "you come a trip with me, and i'll show you navigation that'll make your hair stand on end. sorry," he added a moment after, observing that admiral heyworth was almost aggressively bald. "that's all right," laughed the admiral; "they call me the coot." "well, is it a deal?" demanded john dene, rising. "it is," said mr. llewellyn john, "and a splendid deal for the british empire, mr. dene," he added, holding out his hand. "it's a great privilege to meet a patriot such as you. sir lyster and admiral heyworth will settle all details to your entire satisfaction." "if they do for me, i want you to give the command to blake, then to quinton, and so on, only to my own boys; is that agreed?" "do for you?" queried mr. llewellyn john. "huns, they're after me every hour of the day. there was a little chap even in your own building." "we really must intern these germans----" began mr. llewellyn john. "you're barking up the wrong tree, over here," said john dene with conviction. "you think a german spy's got a square head and says 'ach himmel' and 'ja wohl' on street-cars. it's the neutrals mostly, and sometimes the british," he added under his breath. "in any case you will, i am sure, find that sir lyster will do whatever you want," said mr. llewellyn john as they walked towards the door. for the second time that morning john dene smiled as he left no. , downing street, with sir lyster and admiral heyworth, whilst mr. llewellyn john rang up the chief of department z. chapter ii john dene's way as sir lyster entered mr. blair's room, accompanied by john dene and admiral heyworth, he was informed that sir bridgman north, the first sea lord, was anxious to see him. "ask him if he can step over now, blair," said sir lyster, and the three men passed into the first lord's room. two minutes later sir bridgman north entered, and sir lyster introduced john dene. for a moment the two men eyed one another in mutual appraisement; the big, bluff sea lord, with his humorous blue eyes and ready laugh, and the keen, heavy-featured canadian, as suspicious of a gold band as of a pickpocket. "pleased to meet you," said john dene perfunctorily, as they shook hands. "now you'd better give me a chance to work off my music;" and with that he seated himself. sir bridgman exchanged an amused glance with admiral heyworth, as they too found chairs. in a few words sir lyster explained the reason of john dene's visit. sir bridgman listened with the keen interest of one to whom his profession is everything. "now, mr. dene," said sir lyster when he had finished, "perhaps you will continue." in short, jerky sentences john dene outlined his scheme of operations, the others listening intently. from time to time sir bridgman or admiral heyworth would interpolate a question upon some technical point, which was promptly and satisfactorily answered. john dene seemed to have forgotten nothing. for two hours the four sat discussing plans for a campaign that was once and for all to put an end to germany's submarine hopes. during those two hours the three englishmen learned something of the man with whom they had to deal. sir bridgman's tact, cheery personality and understanding of how to handle men did much to improve the atmosphere, and gradually john dene's irritation disappeared. it was nearly three o'clock before all the arrangements were completed. john dene was to receive a temporary commission as commander as soon as the king's signature could be obtained. the _destroyer_ was entered on the navy list as h , thus taking the place of a submarine that was "missing." john dene had stipulated that she should be rated in some existing class, so that the secret of her existence might be preserved. in short, sharp sentences he had presented his demands, they were nothing less, and the others had acquiesced. by now they were all convinced that he was right, and that the greatest chance of success lay in "giving him his head," as sir bridgman north expressed it in a whisper to sir lyster. a base was to be selected on some island in the north of scotland, and fitted with wireless with aerials a hundred and fifty feet high, "to pick up all that's going," explained john dene, conscious of the surprise of his hearers at a request for such a long-range plant. here the _destroyer_ was to be based, and stores and fuel sufficient for six months accumulated. this was to be proceeded with at once. "i shall want charts of the minefields," he said, "and full particulars as to patrol flotillas and the like." admiral heyworth nodded comprehendingly. "by the way," he said, "there's one thing i do not quite understand." "put a name to it," said john dene tersely. "how do you propose to keep at sea for any length of time without recharging your batteries?" "we shall be lying doggo most of the time," was the reply. "then in all probability the u-boats will pass over you." "we shan't be lying at the bottom of the sea, either," said john dene. "what!" exclaimed admiral heyworth, "but if your motor's cut off, you'll sink to the bed of the sea--the law of gravity." "the _destroyer_ is fitted with buoyancy chambers, and she can generate a gas that will hold her suspended at any depth," he explained. "this gas can be liquefied in a few seconds. her microphone will tell her when the u-boats are about; it's my own invention." sir lyster looked from one to the other, unable to grasp such technicalities; but conscious that admiral heyworth seemed surprised at what he heard. "it's up to you to see that none of your boys start dropping depth-charges around," said john dene. he went on to explain that he proposed a certain restricted area for operations, and that the admiralty should issue instructions that no depth charges were to be dropped on any submarine within that area until further notice. "there's one thing i must leave you to supply," said john dene, as he leaned back in his chair smoking a cigar. john dene chewed the end of a cigar during the period of negotiations, and smoked it when the deal was struck. "and what is that?" asked sir bridgman. "i shall want a 'mother'----" "a mother!" ejaculated sir lyster, looking from john dene to the first sea lord, who laughed loudly. sir lyster always felt that sir bridgman should have left his laugh on the quarter-deck when he relinquished active command. "a 'mother,'" he explained, "is a kangaroo-ship, a dry-dock ship for salvage and repair of submarines. yes, we'll fit you out." sir lyster looked chagrined. he had found some difficulty in mastering naval technicalities. when war broke out he was directing a large dock from which vast numbers of troops were shipped to france. he had shown such administrative genius, that mr. llewellyn john had selected him for the post of first lord of the admiralty, with results that satisfied every one, even the sea lords. john dene then proceeded to indicate the nature of the alterations he would require made in the vessel, showing a remarkable knowledge of the british type of mother-ship. "you ought either to be shot as a spy or made first sea lord," said sir bridgman, looking up from a diagram that john dene had produced. "the hun'll try to do the shooting; and as for my becoming sea lord, i should be sorry for some of the plugs here." john dene's thoroughness impressed his three hearers. everything had been foreseen, even the spot where the _destroyer_ was to be based. the small island of auchinlech possessed a natural harbour of sufficient size for the mother-ship to enter, after which the entrance was to be guarded by a defensive boom as a safeguard against u-boats. john dene explained that a month or five weeks must elapse before the _destroyer_ would be ready for action. in about three weeks she could be at auchinlech, crossing the atlantic under her own power. another week or ten days would be required for refitting and taking in stores. "when you've delivered the goods you can quit, and i shall be pleased to see your boys again in four months." john dene regarded his listeners with the air of a man who had just thrown a bombshell and is conscious of the fact. "four months!" ejaculated sir lyster. "yep!" he uttered the monosyllable in a tone that convinced at least one of his listeners that expostulation would be useless. "but," protested sir lyster, "how shall we know what is happening?" "you won't," was the laconic reply. "but----" began sir lyster again. "if no one knows what is happening," interrupted john dene, "no one can tell anyone else." "surely, mr. dene," said sir lyster with some asperity in his voice, "you do not suspect the war cabinet, for instance, of divulging secrets of national importance." "i don't suspect the war cabinet of anything," was the dry retort, "not even of trying to win the war." john dene looked straight into sir lyster's eyes. there was an awkward pause. "who's going to guarantee that the war cabinet doesn't talk in its sleep?" he continued. "i'm not out to take risks. if this country doesn't want my boat on my terms, then i shan't worry, although you may," he added as an afterthought. "no, sir," he banged his fist on the table vehemently. "this is the biggest thing that's come into the war so far, and i'm not going to have anyone monkeying about with my plans. i'm going to have a written document that i've got a free hand, otherwise i don't deal, that's understood." "but----" began sir lyster once more. "excuse me, grayne," broke in sir bridgman, "may i suggest that, as we are all keenly interested parties, mr. dene might give us his reasons." "sure," said john dene without waiting for sir lyster's reply. "in can'da a man gets a job because he's the man for that job, leastwise if he's not he's fired. here i'll auction that half the big jobs are held by mutts whose granddad's had a pleasant way of saying how d'ye do to a prince. if any of them came around you'd have me skippin' like a scalded cat, and when i'm like that i'm liable to say things. i'm my own man and my own boss, and i take a man's size in most things. i'm too old to feel meek at the sight of gold bands. i want to feel kind to everybody, and i find i can do that in this country better when everybody keeps out of my way." john dene paused, and the others looked at each other, a little nonplussed how to respond to such directness. "it's been in my head-fillin' quite a while to tell you this;" and john dene suddenly smiled, one of those rare smiles that seemed to take the sting out of his words. "i'd be real sorry to hurt anybody's feelings," he added, "but we've got different notions of things in can'da." it was sir bridgman who eased the situation. "if ever you want a second in command, i'm your man," he laughed. "straight talk makes men friends, and if we do wrap things up a bit more here, we aren't so thin-skinned as not to be able to take it from the shoulder. what say you, grayne?" "yes--certainly," said sir lyster with unconvincing hesitation. "you were mentioning spies," said admiral heyworth. "so would you if they'd plagued you as they've plagued me," said john dene. "they've already stolen three sets of plans." "three sets of plans!" cried sir lyster, starting up in alarm. john dene nodded as he proceeded to relight the stump of his cigar. "one set in t'ronto, one on the steamer and the other from my room at the ritzton." "good heavens!" exclaimed sir lyster in alarm, "what is to be done?" "oh! i've got another three sets," said john dene calmly. sir lyster looked at him as if doubtful of his sanity. "don't you worry," said john dene imperturbably, "one set of plans was of the u , the first boat the germans built, the second set was of the u , and the third of the u ." sir bridgman's laugh rang out as he thumped the table with his fist. "splendid!" he cried. sir lyster sank back into his chair with a sigh of relief. "by the way, dene," said sir bridgman casually, "suppose the _destroyer_ was--er--lost and you with her." "i've arranged for a set of plans to be delivered to the first lord, whoever he may be at the time," said john dene. "good!" said sir bridgman. "you think of everything. we shall have you commanding the grand fleet before the war's over."' sir lyster said nothing. he did not quite relish the qualification "whoever he may be at the time." "about the spies," he said after a pause. "i think it would be advisable to arrange for your protection." "not on your life!" cried john dene with energy. "i don't want any policemen following me around. i've got my own--well," he added, "i've fixed things up all right, and if the worst comes to the worst, well there aren't many men in this country that can beat john dene with a gun. now it's up to me to make good on this proposition." he looked from one to the other, as if challenging contradiction. finding there was none, he continued: "but there are a few things that i want before i can start in, and then you won't see me for dust. you get me?" he looked suddenly at sir lyster. "we'll do everything in our power to help you, mr. dene," said sir lyster, reaching for a clean sheet of paper from the rack before him. "well, i've got it all figured out here," said john dene, taking a paper from his jacket pocket. "first i want a written undertaking, signed by you," turning to sir lyster, "and mr. llewellyn john that i'm to have four months to run the _destroyer_ with no one butting in." sir lyster nodded and made a note. "next," continued john dene, "i want a mothership fully equipped with stores and fuel sufficient for four months." again sir lyster inclined his head and made a note. "i'll give you a schedule of everything i'm likely to want. then i want an undertaking that if anything happens to me the command goes to blake and then to quinton. if i don't get these things," he announced with decision, "i'll call a halt right here." "i think you can depend upon sir lyster doing all you want, mr. dene," said sir bridgman; "and when you see the way he does it, perhaps you'll have a better opinion of the admiralty." sir lyster smiled slightly. he had already determined to show john dene that nowhere in the world was there an organisation equal to that of the admiralty victualling and stores departments. "you help john dene and he's with you till the cows come to roost," was the response; "and now," he added shrewdly, "you'd better get the cables to work and find out something about me." "something about you!" queried sir lyster. "you're not going to trust a man because he talks big, i'll gamble on that. well, you'll learn a deal about john dene, and now it's time you got a rustle on." "in all probability our intelligence department knows all about you by now, mr. dene," said sir bridgman with a laugh. "it's supposed to be fairly up to date in most things." "well," said john dene, as he leaned back in his chair, puffing vigorously at his cigar, "you've treated me better'n i expected, and you won't regret it. remembering's my long suit. i don't want any honour or glory out of this stunt, i just want to get the job done. if there are any garters, or collars going around, you may have 'em, personally i don't wear 'em,--garters, i mean. a couple of rubber-bands are good enough for me." sir bridgman laughed, sir lyster smiled indulgently, and admiral heyworth rose to go. "there's only one thing more; i want a room here and someone to take down letters." "i will tell my secretary to arrange everything," said sir lyster. "you have only to ask for what you require, mr. dene." "well, that's settled," said john dene, rising. "now it's up to me, and if the _destroyer_ doesn't give those huns merry hell, then i'm green goods;" and with this enigmatical utterance he abruptly left the room, with a nod, and a "see you all in the morning." as the door closed, the three men gazed at each other for a few seconds. "an original character," said sir lyster indulgently. "going, heyworth?" he enquired, as admiral heyworth moved towards the door. "yes, i've hardly touched the day's work yet," was the reply. "never mind," said sir bridgman, "you've done the best day's work you're likely to do during this war." "i think i agree with you," said admiral heyworth as he left the room. "well, grayne, what do you think of our friend, john dene?" inquired sir bridgman as he lighted a cigarette. "he's rather abrupt," said sir lyster hesitatingly, "but i think he's a sterling character." "you're right," said sir bridgman heartily. "i wish we had a dozen john denes in the service. when the colonies do produce a man they do the thing in style, and canada has made no mistake about john dene. he's going nearer to win the war than any other man in the empire." "ah! your incurable enthusiasm," smiled sir lyster. "what i like about him," remarked sir bridgman, "is that he never waits to be contradicted." "he certainly does seem to take everything for granted," said sir lyster, with a note of complaint in his voice. "the man who has all the cards generally does," said sir bridgman drily. "dene will always get there, because he has no axe to grind, and the only thing he respects is brains. that is why he snubs us all so unmercifully," he added with the laugh that always made sir lyster wish he wouldn't. "now i want to consult you about a rather embarrassing question that's on the paper for friday," said sir lyster. unconscious that he was forming the subject of discussion with the heads of the admiralty, john dene, on leaving the first lord's room, turned to the right and walked quickly in the direction of the main staircase. as he reached a point where the corridor was intersected by another running at right angles, the sudden opening of a door on his left caused him to turn his head quickly. a moment later there was a feminine cry and a sound of broken crockery, and john dene found himself gazing down at a broken teapot. "oh!" he looked up from the steaming ruin of newly brewed tea into the violet eyes of the girl who had directed him to the admiralty. he noticed the purity of her skin, the redness of her lips and the rebelliousness of her corn-coloured hair, which seeming to refuse all constraint clung about her head in little wanton tendrils. "that's my fault," said john dene, removing his hat. "i'm sorry." "yes; but our tea," said the girl in genuine consternation; "we're rationed, you know." "rationed?" said john dene. "yes; we only get two ounces a week each," she said with a comical look of despair. "gee!" cried john dene, then he asked suddenly: "what are you?" the girl looked at him in surprise, a little stiffly. "can you type? never mind about the tea." "but i do mind about the tea." she found john dene's manner disarming. "i take it you're a stenographer. now tell me your name. i'll see about the tea." he had whipped out a note-book and pencil. "hurry, i've got a cable to send." seeing that she was reluctant to give her name, he continued: "never mind about your name. be in the first lord's room to-morrow at eleven o'clock; i'll see you there;" and with that he turned quickly, resumed his hat and retraced his steps. without knocking, he pushed open the door of mr. blair's room, walked swiftly across and opened the door leading to that of the first lord. "here!" he cried, "where can i buy a pound of tea?" if john dene had asked where he could borrow an ichthyosaurus, sir lyster and sir bridgman could not have gazed at him with more astonishment. "you can't," said sir bridgman, at length, his eyes twinkling as he watched the expression on sir lyster's face. "can't!" cried john dene. "tea's rationed--two ounces a week," explained sir bridgman. "anyhow i've got to buy a pound of tea. i've just smashed up the teapot of a girl in the corridor." "i'm afraid it's impossible," said sir lyster with quiet dignity. "impossible!" said john dene irritably. "here am i giving more'n a million dollars to the country and i can't get a pound of tea. i'll see about that. she'll be here in this room to-morrow at eleven o'clock," and with that the door closed and john dene disappeared. "i've told a girl to be here at eleven o'clock to-morrow. she's going to be my secretary," he explained to mr. blair as he passed through his office. mr. blair blinked his eyes vigorously. he had seen sir lyster and admiral heyworth leave the admiralty with john dene, he gathered that they had had a long interview with the prime minister, then they had returned again and, for two hours, had sat in consultation with the first sea lord. now the amazing john dene had made an appointment to meet some girl in the first lord's room at eleven o'clock the next morning. as john dene left the admiralty puffing clouds of blue content from his cigar, the shifty-eyed man, in a grey suit, who had been examining the royal marines statue, drew a white handkerchief with a flourish from his pocket and proceeded to blow his nose vigorously. the act seemed to pass unnoticed save by a young girl sitting on a neighbouring seat. she immediately appeared to become greatly interested in the movements of john dene, whilst the man in the grey suit walked away in the direction of birdcage walk. "where's the tea?" was the cry with which dorothy west was greeted as she entered the room she occupied with a number of other girls after her encounter with john dene. "it's in the corridor," she replied. "oh! go and get it, there's a dear; i'm simply parched," cried marjorie rogers, a pretty little brunette at the further corner. "it's all gone," said dorothy west; "a hun just knocked it out of my hand. he smashed the teapot." "smashed the teapot!" cried several girls in chorus. "oh! wessie," wailed the little brunette, "i shall die." "why did you let him do it?" asked a fair girl with white eyelashes and glasses. "i didn't," said dorothy; "he just barged into me and knocked the teapot out of my hand, and then made an assignation for eleven o'clock to-morrow in the first lord's room." "an assignation! the first lord's room!" cried miss cunliffe, who by virtue of a flat chest, a pair of round glasses, and an uncompromising manner made an ideal supervisor. she was known as "old goggles." "what do you mean, miss west?" "exactly what i say, miss cunliffe. he asked me if i was a stenographer, and then said that i was to see him at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning in the first lord's room. what do you think i had better do?" "who is he? what is he? do tell us, wessie, dear," cried marjorie rogers excitedly. "well, i should think he's either a madman or else he's bought the admiralty," said dorothy west, her head on one side as if weighing her words before uttering them. "he's the man i saw this morning with sir lyster grayne and admiral heyworth, going to call on the prime minister--at least, i suppose they were; they went up the steps into downing street. but ought i to go at eleven o'clock, miss cunliffe?" she queried. "i'll make enquiries," said miss cunliffe. "i'll see mr. blair. perhaps he's mad." "but what are we going to do about our tea?" wailed marjorie. "i'd sooner lose my character than my tea." "miss rogers!" said miss cunliffe, whose conception of supervisorship was that she should oversee the decorum as well as the work of the other occupants of the room. "i believe she did it on purpose," said she of the white eyelashes spitefully to a girl in a velvet blouse. "you had better brew to-morrow's tea to-day, miss west," said miss cunliffe. "yes, do, there's a darling," cried marjorie. "i simply can't wait another five minutes. why, i couldn't lick a stamp to save my life. borrow no. 's pot when they've finished with it, and pinch some of their tea, if you can," she added. and dorothy west went out to interview the guardian of no. 's teapot. chapter iii department z. i "mr. sage there? very well, ask him to step in and see me as soon as he returns." colonel walton replaced the telephone-receiver and continued to draw diagrams upon the blotting-pad before him, an occupation in which he had been engaged for the last quarter of an hour. since its creation two years before, he had been chief of department z., the most secret section of the british secret service, with malcolm sage as his lieutenant. department z. owed its inception to an inspiration on the part of mr. llewellyn john. he had conceived the idea of creating a secret service department, the working of which should be secret even from the secret service itself. its primary object was that the prime minister and the war cabinet might have a private means of obtaining such special information as it required. department z. was unhampered by rules and regulations, as devoid of conventions as an enterprising flapper. in explaining his scheme to mr. thaw, the chancellor of the exchequer, mr. llewellyn john had said, "suppose i want to know what chappeldale had for lunch yesterday, and don't like to ask him, how am i to find out? i want a department that can tell me anything i want to know, and will be surprised at nothing." with mr. llewellyn john to conceive a thing was to put it into practice. he did not make the mistake of placing department z. under the control of a regular secret service man. "i'm tired of red-tape and traditions," he had remarked to mr. thaw. "if i go to the front, they won't let me speak to a man lower than a brigadier, whereas i want the point-of-view of the drummer-boy." mr. llewellyn john had heard of colonel walton's exploits in india as head of the burmah police, had seen him, and in five minutes the first chief of department z. was appointed. from the ministry of supply, mr. llewellyn john had plucked malcolm sage, whom he later described as "either a ferret turned dreamer, or a dreamer turned ferret," he was not quite sure which. in discovering malcolm sage, mr. llewellyn john had achieved one of his greatest strokes of good fortune. when minister of supply his notice had been attracted to sage, as the man who had been instrumental in bringing to light--that is official light, for the affair was never made public--the greatest contracts-scandal of the war. it was due entirely to his initiative and unobtrusive enquiries that a gigantic fraud, diabolical in its cleverness, had been discovered--a fraud that might have involved the country in the loss of millions. mr. llewellyn john had recognised that this young accountant had done him a great service, perhaps saved him from a serious political set-back. incidentally he discovered that sage was a very uneasy person to have in a government-department. sage cared nothing for tradition, discipline, or bureaucracy. if they interfered with the proper performance of his duties, overboard they went. he was the most transferred man in whitehall. no one seemed to want to keep him for longer than the period necessary for the formalities of his transfer. "uneasy lies the head that has a sage," was a phrase some wag had coined. if a man wanted to condemn another as too zealous, unnecessarily hard-working, or as a breaker of idols, he likened him to sage. the chief of the department from which mr. llewellyn john took malcolm sage when department z. was formed is said to have wept tears of joy at the news. for months he had striven to transfer his unconventional subordinate; but there was none who would have him. this unfortunate chief of department had gone through life like a man wanting to sell a dog of dubious pedigree. in the ministry he was known as henry ii, and sage came to be referred to as beckett. in department z. sage found his proper niche. under colonel walton, a man of few words and great tact, he had found an ideal chief, one who understood how to handle men. as john dene had left , downing street, with sir lyster and admiral heyworth, mr. llewellyn john had rung up colonel walton and requested that full enquiries be made at once as to john dene of toronto, and a report submitted to him in the morning. that was all. he had given no indication of why he wanted to know, or what was john dene's business in london. hardly a day of his life passed without mr. llewellyn john having cause to be thankful for the inspiration that had resulted in the founding of department z. nothing seemed to come amiss, either to the department or its officials. they never required an elaborate filling-up of forms, they never asked for further particulars as did other departments. they just got to work. mr. llewellyn john had, once and for all, defined department z. when he said to mr. thaw, "if i were to ask scotland yard if chappeldale had gone over to the bolshevists, or if waytensee had become an orangeman, they would send a man here, his pockets bulging with note-books. department z. would tell me all i wanted to know in a few hours." in his first interview with mr. llewellyn john, previous to being appointed to department z., malcolm sage had bluntly criticised the government's methods of dealing with the spy peril. "you're all wrong, sir," he had said. "if you spot a spy, you arrest, imprison or deport him, according to the degree of his guilt. any fool could do that," he had added quietly. "and what would you do, sage?" inquired mr. llewellyn john, who never took offence at the expression of any man's honest opinion, no matter how emphatically worded. "i should watch him," was the laconic reply. "just as was done before the war. you didn't arrest spies then, you just let them think they were safe." for a few moments mr. llewellyn john had pondered the remark, and then asked for an explanation. "if you arrest, shoot or intern a spy, another generally springs up in his place, and you have to start afresh to find him; he may do a lot of mischief before that comes about." sage gazed meditatively at his finger-nails, a habit of his. "on the other hand," he continued, "if you know your man, you can watch him and generally find out what he's after. better a known than an unknown danger," he had added oracularly. "i'm afraid they wouldn't endorse that doctrine at scotland yard," smiled mr. llewellyn john. "scotland yard is a place of promoted policemen," replied sage, "regulation intellects in regulation boots." mr. llewellyn john smiled. he always appreciated a phrase. "then you would not arrest a burglar, but watch him," he said, glancing keenly at sage. "the cases are entirely different, sir," was the reply; "a burglar invariably works on his own, a spy is more frequently than not a cog of a machine and must be replaced. he seldom works entirely alone." "go on," mr. llewellyn john had said, seeing that sage paused and was intently regarding his finger-nails of his right hand. "even when burglars work in gangs, there is no superior organisation to replace destroyed units," continued sage. "with international secret service it is different; its casualties are made good as promptly as with a field army." "i believe you're right," said mr. llewellyn john. "if you can convince colonel walton, then department z. can be run on those lines." malcolm sage had found no difficulty in convincing his chief, a man of quiet demeanour, but unprejudiced mind. the result had been that department z. had not so far caused a single arrest, although it had countered many clever schemes. its motto was "the day" when it could make a really historical haul. the progress of malcolm sage had been remarkable. colonel walton had quickly seen that his subordinate could work only along his own lines, and in consequence he had given him his head. sage, on his part, had discovered in his chief a man with a sound knowledge of human nature, generously spiced with the devil. as sage entered, colonel walton ceased his diagrams and looked up. sage was as unlike the "sleuth hound" of fiction as it is possible for a man to be. at first glance he looked like the superintendent of a provincial sunday-school. he was about thirty-five years of age, sandy, wore gold-rimmed glasses and possessed a conical head, prematurely bald. he had a sharp nose, steel-coloured eyes and large ears; but there was the set of his jaw which told of determination. seating himself in his customary place, sage proceeded to pull at the inevitable briar, without which he was seldom seen. for a full minute there was silence. colonel walton deliberately lighted a cigar and leaned back to listen. he knew his man and refrained from asking questions. "they're puzzled, chief"--sage knocked the ashes from his pipe into the ash-tray on the table--"and they're getting jumpy," he added. colonel walton nodded. "twice they've ransacked john dene's room at the ritzton and found nothing." "does he know?" enquired colonel walton. sage nodded. "john dene's a dark horse," he remarked with respect in his voice, "and the huns can't make up their minds." "to what?" enquired the chief. "to give up the shadow for the substance," he remarked, as he pressed down the tobacco in his pipe. "they want the plans, and they want to prevent the boat from putting to sea." colonel walton nodded comprehendingly. "they'll probably try to scotch her on the way over; but they won't know her route. they'll be lying in wait, however, in full strength in home waters. he's a bad psychologist," added sage, as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe. "who?" enquired colonel walton. "the hun," replied sage, as he sucked away contentedly at his pipe. "he's never content to go for a single issue, or he'd probably have got the channel ports. he's not content with concentrating on john dene and his boat, he's after the plans. that's where he'll fail. smart chap, john dene." for some moments the two men smoked in silence, which was finally broken by sage. "they'll try to get hold of john dene, unless he's very careful, and hold him to ransom, the price being the plans." "incidentally, sage, where did you get all this from?" enquired walton. sage gazed at his chief through his gold-rimmed spectacles. "about three hundred yards west of the temple station on the underground." colonel walton glanced across at his subordinate; but refrained from asking further questions. "have you warned dene?" he enquired instead. "no use," replied sage with conviction. "might as well warn a fly." colonel walton nodded understandingly. "still," he remarked, "i think he ought to be told." "why not have a try yourself?" sage looked up swiftly from the inevitable contemplation of his finger-nails. for fully a minute colonel walton sat revolving the proposal in his mind. "i think i will," he said later. "he'll treat you like a superannuated policeman," was the grim retort. "the skipper wants to see us at eleven," said colonel walton, looking at his watch and rising. the "skipper" was the name by which mr. llewellyn john was known at department z. names were rarely referred to, and very few documents were ever exchanged. colonel walton picked up his hat from a bookcase and, followed by sage, who extracted a cap from his pocket, left the room and department z. and walked across to downing street. as colonel walton and malcolm sage were shown into mr. llewellyn john's room, the prime minister gave instructions that he was not to be disturbed for a quarter of an hour. "was the john dene report what you wanted, sir?" enquired colonel walton, as he took the seat mr. llewellyn john indicated. "excellent," cried mr. llewellyn john; then with a smile he added, "i was able to tell sir lyster quite a lot of things this morning. the admiralty report was not ready until late last night. it was not nearly so instructive." the main facts of john dene's career had not been difficult to obtain. his father had emigrated to canada in the early eighties; but, possessing only the qualifications of a clerk, he had achieved neither fame nor fortune. he had died when john dene was eight years old, and his wife had followed him within eighteen months. after a varied career john dene had drifted to the states, where as a youth he had entered a large engineering firm, and was instantly singled out as an inventor in embryo. several fortunate speculations had formed the foundation of a small fortune of twenty thousand dollars, with which he returned to toronto. from that point his career had been one continual progression of successes. everything he touched seemed to turn to gold, until "john's luck" became a well-known phrase in financial circles. unlike most successful business-men, he devoted a large portion of his time to his hobby, electrical engineering, and when the war broke out he sought to turn this to practical and patriotic uses. "and when may we expect mr. dene's new submarine over?" enquired malcolm sage casually. "mr. dene's new submarine!" mr. llewellyn john's hands dropped to his sides as he gazed at sage in blank amazement. "his new submarine," he repeated. "yes, sir." "what on earth do you know about it?" demanded mr. llewellyn john, looking at sage with a startled expression. "john dene has invented a submarine," proceeded the literal sage, "with some novel features, including a searchlight that has overcome the opacity of water. the thing is lying on the st. lawrence river just below quebec. yesterday he called to see sir lyster grayne, who brought him here with admiral heyworth." mr. llewellyn john gazed in bewilderment at malcolm sage, his eyes shifted to colonel walton and then back again to sage. "but," he began, "you're watching us, not the enemy. did you know of this?" he turned to the chief of department z. colonel walton shook his head. "i haven't seen sage since you telephoned yesterday until a few minutes ago," he said. "where--how----?" mr. llewellyn john paused. "it's our business to know things, sir," was sage's quiet reply. "and yet you didn't report this to----" began mr. llewellyn john. "it saves time telling you both at once," responded sage, looking at his chief with a smile. "suppose you tell us how you found out," suggested mr. llewellyn john a little irritably. "does that matter, sir?" sage looked up calmly from an earnest examination of the nail of his left forefinger. for some moments mr. llewellyn john gazed across at malcolm sage, frowning heavily. "sage has his own methods," remarked colonel walton tactfully. "methods," cried mr. llewellyn john, his brow clearing, "it's a good job he didn't live in the middle ages, or else he'd have been burned. i'm not so sure that he ought not to be burned now." he turned on sage that smile that never failed in its magical effect. "there are one or two links missing," said sage. "i want to know where and when the _destroyer_ will arrive, and what steps you are taking in regard to john dene." "all arrangements will be left in mr. dene's hands. he is----" mr. lewellyn john paused. "a little self-willed," suggested sage. "self-willed!" exclaimed mr. llewellyn john. "he is a dictator in embryo." "he happens also to be a patriot," said sage quietly. "wait until you meet him," said the prime minister grimly. "i have met him," said sage quietly. "i trod on his toe last night at 'chu chin chow.' we had quite a pleasant little chat about it. i think that is all i need trouble you with, sir," he concluded. "and we are to see the thing through?" interrogated colonel walton, as mr. llewellyn john rose. "there won't be any----" "no one else knows anything about it except sir lyster, sir bridgman and admiral heyworth. by the way," mr. llewellyn john added, "our canadian friend has an idea that our secret service is run by superannuated policemen in regulation boots." "i know," said sage, as he followed his chief towards the door. "good-bye," cried mr. llewellyn john. "i'm sure i shall have to send you to the tower, sage, before i've finished with you." "then i'll spend the time writing the history of department z., sir," was the quiet reply. the two men went out, and mr. llewellyn john rang for his secretary. "you have rather----" began colonel walton, but he stopped short. sage suddenly knocked him roughly with his elbow. "i have never seen the mons star," he said. "can we go round by whitehall? the horse guards sentries, i believe, wear it." the two men had reached the top of the steps leading down into st. james's park. without a moment's pause sage turned quickly, and nearly cannoned into a pretty and stylishly dressed girl, who was walking close behind them. he lifted his hat and apologised, and he and colonel walton passed up downing street into whitehall. for the rest of the walk back to st. james's square, sage chatted about medals. seated once more one on either side of colonel walton's table, sage proceeded to light his pipe. "clever, wasn't it?" he asked. "she's fairly new, too." "who was she?" "vera ellerton, employed as a temporary ministry typist," sage replied drily. "so that was it," remarked colonel walton, cutting the end of a cigar with great deliberation. "she was following us on the chance of catching any odd remarks that might be useful. on the way back here two others picked us up on the relay system." "do you think she knew who we were?" enquired colonel walton. "no, just an off chance. we were callers on the skipper, and might let something drop. it's a regular thing, picking up the callers, generally when they've got some distance away though." "they must have learned quite a deal about numismatics," said colonel walton drily. "a constitutional government is a great obstacle to an efficient secret service, it imposes limitations," remarked sage regretfully. colonel walton looked across in the act of lighting his cigar. "there are six hundred and seventy of them at westminster. in war-time we require a system of the _lettre-de-cachêt_. and now," said sage, rising, "i think i'll get a couple of hours' sleep, i've been pretty busy. by the way," he said, with his hand upon the door-handle, "i think we might get the papers of that fellow on the bergen boat, also a photograph, clothing, and full details of his appearance." colonel walton nodded and malcolm sage took his departure. ii "it's curious." malcolm sage was seated at his table carefully studying several sheets of buff-coloured paper fastened together in the top left-hand corner with thin green cord. in a tray beside him lay a number of similar documents. he glanced across at a small man with a dark moustache and determined chin sitting opposite. the man made a movement as if to speak, then apparently thinking better of it, remained silent. "how many false calls did you say?" enquired sage. "nine in five days, sir," was the response. malcolm sage nodded his head several times, his eyes still fixed on the papers before him. one of his first acts on being appointed to department z. was to give instructions, through the proper channels, that all telephone-operators were to be warned to report to their supervisors anything that struck them as unusual, no matter how trivial the incident might appear, carefully noting the numbers of the subscribers whose messages seemed out of the ordinary. this was quite apart from the special staff detailed to tap conversations, particularly call-box conversations throughout the kingdom. a bright young operator at the streatham exchange, coveting the reward of five pounds offered for any really useful information, had called attention to the curious fact that mr. montagu naylor, of "the cedars," apthorpe road, was constantly receiving wrong calls. this operator's report had been considered of sufficient importance to send to department z. instructions had been given for a complete record to be kept of all mr. montagu naylor's calls, in-coming and out-going. the first thing that struck sage as significant was that all these false calls were made from public call-boxes. he gave instructions that at the streatham exchange they were to enquire of the exchanges from which the calls had come if any complaint had been made by those getting wrong numbers. the result showed that quite a number of people seemed content to pay threepence to be told that they were on to the wrong subscriber. "what do you make of it, thompson?" malcolm sage looked up in that sudden way of his, which many found so disconcerting. thompson shook his head. "i've had enquiries made at all the places given, and they seem quite all right, sir," was his reply. "it's funny," he added after a pause. "it began with short streets and small numbers, and then gradually took in the larger thoroughfares with bigger numbers." "the calls have always come through in the same way?" queried malcolm sage. "first the number and then the street and no mention of the exchange." "yes, sir," was the response. "it's a bit of a puzzle," he added. malcolm sage nodded. for some minutes they sat in silence, sage staring with expressionless face at the papers before him. suddenly with a swift movement he pushed them over towards thompson. "get out a list of the whole range of numbers immediately, and bring it to me as soon as you can. tell them to get me through to smart at the streatham exchange." "very good, sir;" and the man took his departure. a minute later the telephone bell rang. malcolm sage took up the receiver. "that you, smart?" he enquired, "re z. , in future transcribe figures in words exactly as spoken, thus double-one-three, one-hundred-and-thirteen, or one-one-three, as the case may be." he jammed the receiver back again on to the rest, and proceeded to gaze fixedly at the finger-nails of his left hand. a quarter of an hour later special service officer thompson entered with a long list of figures, which he handed to malcolm sage. "you've hit it, thompson," said sage, glancing swiftly down the list. "have i, sir?" said thompson, not quite sure what it was he was supposed to have hit. "they are----" at that moment the telephone bell rang. malcolm sage put the receiver to his ear. "yes, malcolm sage, speaking," he said. there was a pause. "yes." another pause. "good, continue to record in that manner;" and once more he replaced the receiver. "vanity, thompson, is at the root of all error." "yes, sir, said thompson dutifully. "those figures," continued sage, "are times, not numbers." with a quick indrawing of breath, which with thompson always indicated excitement, he reached across for the list, his eyes glinting. "that was smart on the telephone, another call just come through, three-twenty oxford street, not three-two-o, but three-twenty. make a note of it." thompson produced a note-book and hastily scribbled a memorandum. "at three-twenty this afternoon you will probably find mr. montagu naylor meeting somebody in oxford street. have both followed. if by chance they don't turn up, have someone there at three-twenty every afternoon and morning for a week; it may be the second, third, fourth, or fifth day after the call for all we know, morning or evening." "it's the old story, thompson," said sage, who never lost a chance of pointing the moral, "over confidence. here's a fellow who has worked out a really original means of communication. instead of running it for a few months and then dropping it, he carries on until someone tumbles to his game." "yes, sir," said thompson respectfully. it was an understood thing at department z. that these little homilies should be listened to with deference. "it's like a dog hiding a bone in a hat-box," continued sage. "he's so pleased with himself that he imagines no one else can attain to such mental brilliancy. he makes no allowance for the chapter of accidents." "that is so, sir." "we mustn't get like that in department z., thompson." thompson shook his head. time after time sage had impressed upon the staff of department z. that mentally they must be elastic. "it's only a fool who is blinded by his own vapour," he had said. he had pointed out the folly of endeavouring to fit a fact by an hypothesis. "that's all," and malcolm sage became absorbed in the paper before him. as he closed the door behind him thompson winked gravely at a print upon the wall of the corridor opposite. he was wondering how it was possible for one man to watch the whole of oxford street for a week. chapter iv gingering-up the admiralty "boss in?" mr. blair started violently; he had not heard john dene enter his room. "er--yes, mr. dene," he replied, "i'll tell him." he half rose; but before he could complete the movement john dene had opened the door communicating with sir lyster's private room. mr. blair sank back in his chair. he was a man who assimilated innovation with difficulty. all his life he had been cradled in the lap of "as it was in the beginning." he was a vade-mecum on procedure and the courtesies of life, which made him extremely valuable to sir lyster. he was a gentle zephyr, whereas john dene was something between a sudden draught and a cyclone. mr. blair fixed his rather prominent blue eyes on the door that had closed behind john dene. he disliked colonials. they always said what they meant, and went directly for what they wanted, all of which was in opposition to his standard of good-breeding. as he continued to gaze at the door, it suddenly opened and john dene's head appeared. "say," he cried, "if that yellow-headed girl comes, send her right in," and the door closed with a bang. inwardly mr. blair gasped; it was not customary for yellow-haired girls to be sent in to see the first lord. "the difference between this country and can'da," remarked john dene, as he planted upon sir lyster's table a large, shapeless-looking parcel, from which he proceeded to remove the wrapping, "is that here every one wants to know who your father was; but in can'da they ask what can you do. i got that pound of tea," he added inconsequently. "the pound of tea!" repeated sir lyster uncomprehendingly, as he watched john dene endeavouring to extract a packet from his pocket with one hand, and undo the string of the parcel with the other. "yes, for that yellow-headed girl. i ran into her in the corridor and smashed her teapot yesterday. i promised i'd get her some more tea. here it is;" and john dene laid the package on the first lord's table. "if she comes after i'm gone, you might give it to her. i told her to run in here and fetch it. this is the pot," he added, still struggling with the wrappings. presently he disinterred from a mass of paper wound round it in every conceivable way, a large white, pink and gold teapot. sir lyster gazed from the teapot, terrifying in the crudeness of its shape and design, to john dene and back again to the teapot. "like it?" asked john dene, as he looked admiringly at his purchase. "ought to cheer those girls up some." sir lyster continued to gaze at the teapot as if fascinated. "i told her to run in here and fetch it," continued john dene, indicating the packet of tea. "she doesn't know about the pot," he added with self-satisfaction. "in here," repeated sir lyster, unwilling to believe his ears. "sure," replied john dene, his eyes still fixed admiringly upon the teapot, "at eleven o'clock. it's that now," he added, looking at his watch. as he did so mr. blair entered and closed the door behind him. he was obviously embarrassed. "a young person----" he began. "send her right in," cried john dene. mr. blair glanced uncertainly from sir lyster to john dene, then back again to his chief. seeing no contradiction in his eye, he turned and held open the door to admit dorothy west. "ah! here you are," cried john dene, rising and indicating that the girl should occupy his chair. "there's your pound of tea," pointing to the package lying before sir lyster, "and there's a new teapot for you," he added, indicating that object, which seemed to flaunt its pink and white and gold as if determined to brazen things out. the girl looked at the teapot, at sir lyster and on to john dene, and back to the teapot. then she laughed. she had pretty teeth, john dene decided. "it's very kind of you," she said, "but there wasn't a pound of tea in the teapot you broke yesterday, and--and----" "never mind," said john dene, "you can keep the rest. now see here, i want someone to take down my letters. you're a stenographer?" he asked. the girl nodded her head. "speeds?" enquired john dene. "a hundred and twenty----" was the response. "typing?" "sixty-five words----" "you'll do," said john dene with decision. "in future you'll do my work only. nine o'clock, every morning." the girl looked enquiringly at sir lyster, who coughed slightly. "we will take up your references, miss--er----" "oh! cut it out," said john dene impatiently, "i don't want references." "but," replied sir lyster, "this is work of a confidential nature.". "see here," cried john dene. "i started life selling newspapers in t'ronto. i never had a reference, i never gave a reference and i never asked a reference, and the man who can get ahead of john dene had better stay up all night for fear of missing the buzzer in the morning. that girl's straight, else she wouldn't be asked to do my letters," he added. "now, don't you wait," he said to dorothy, seeing she was embarrassed at his remark; "nine o'clock to-morrow morning." "i think it will be necessary to take up references," began sir lyster as john dene closed the door on dorothy. john dene span round on his heel. "i run my business on canadian lines, not on british," he cried. "if you're always going to be around telling me what to do, then i'll see this country to hell before they get my _destroyer_. the man who deals with john dene does so on his terms," and with that he left the room, closing the door with a bang behind him. for a moment he stood gazing down at mr. blair. "can you tell me," he asked slowly, "why the british empire has not gone to blazes long ago?" mr. blair gazed at him, mild surprise in his prominent eyes. "i am afraid i don't--i cannot----" he began. "neither can i," said john dene. "you're all just about as cute as dead weasels." john dene walked along the corridor and down the staircase in high dudgeon. "ha! mr. dene, what's happened?" enquired sir bridgman, who was mounting the stairs as john dene descended. "i've been wondering how it is the british empire has hung together as long as it has," was the response. "what have we been doing now?" enquired sir bridgman. "it's my belief," remarked john dene, "that in this country you wouldn't engage a janitor without his great-grandmother's birth-certificate." "i'm afraid we are rather a prejudiced nation," said sir bridgman genially. "i don't care a cousin mary what you are," responded john dene, "so long as you don't come up against me. i'm out to win this war; it doesn't matter to me a red cent who's got the most grandmothers, and the sooner you tell the first lord and that prize seal of his, the better we shall get on;" and john dene abruptly continued on his way. sir bridgman smiled as he slowly ascended the stairs. "i suppose," he murmured, "we are in the process of being gingered-up." the rest of the day john dene devoted to sight-seeing and wandering about the streets, keenly interested in and critical of all he saw. the next morning he was at the admiralty a few minutes to nine, and was conducted by an attendant to the room that had been assigned to him. he gave a swift glance round and, apparently satisfied that it would suit his purpose, seated himself at the large pedestal table and took out his watch. as he did so, he noticed an envelope addressed to him lying on the table. picking it up he tore off the end, extracted and read the note. just as he had finished there came a tap at the door. "come," he called out. the door opened and dorothy west entered, looking very pretty and business-like with a note-book and pencil in her hand. "good morning," she said. "mornin', miss west," he replied, gazing at her apparently without seeing her. he was obviously thinking of something else. she seated herself beside his table and looked up, awaiting his signal to begin the day's work. "there are some things in this country that get my goat," he remarked. john dene threw down the letter he was reading, twirled the cigar between his lips and snorted his impatience, as he jumped from his chair and proceeded to stride up and down the room. "there are quite a lot that get mine," she remarked demurely, as she glanced up from her note-book. "a lot that get yours," he repeated, coming to a standstill and looking down at her. "things that get my goat." there was the slightest possible pause between the "my" and the "goat." then john dene smiled. in toronto it was said that when john dene smiled securities could always be trusted to mount at least a point. "well, listen to this." he picked up the letter again and read: "dear mr. dene,-- "sir lyster desires me to write and express it as his most urgent wish that you will pay special regard to your personal safety. he fears that you may be inclined to treat the matter too lightly, hence this letter. "yours truly, "reginald blair." "if that chap hadn't such a dandy set of grandmothers and first cousins, he'd be picking up cigarette-stubs instead of wasting his time telling me what i knew a year ago." "but he's only carrying out sir lyster's instructions," suggested dorothy. "there's something in that," he admitted grudgingly, "but if they're going to be always running around warning me of danger i know all about----" he broke off. "why," he continued a moment later, "i was shot at on the steamer, nearly hustled into the docks at liverpool, set on by toughs in manchester and followed around as if i was a bell-mule. i tell you it gets my goat. this country wants gingering-up." john dene continued his pacing of the room. "couldn't you wear a red beard and blue glasses and----" "what's that?" john dene span round and fixed his eyes on the girl. "i mean disguise yourself," said dorothy, dropping her eyes beneath his gaze. "why?" the interrogation was rapped out in such a tone as to cause the girl to shrink back slightly. "they wouldn't know and then it wouldn't----" she hesitated. "wouldn't what?" he demanded. "get your goat," said dorothy after a moment's hesitation. he continued to gaze intently at dorothy, who was absorbed in a blank page of her note-book. "here, take this down;" and he proceeded to dictate. "my dear mr. blair,-- "i am in receipt of yours of to-day's date. will you tell sir lyster that i have bought a machine-gun, a blue beard, false eyebrows, and miss west and i are going to do bayonet drill every morning with a pillow. "with kind regards, "yours sincerely." for a few moments dorothy sat regarding her book with knitted brows. "i don't think i should send that, if i were you, mr. dene," she said at length. "why not?" he demanded, unaccustomed to having his orders questioned. "it sounds rather flippant, doesn't it?" john dene smiled grimly, and as he made no further comment, dorothy struck out the letter from her note-book. all through the morning john dene threw off letters. the way in which he did his dictating reminded dorothy of a retriever shaking the water from its coat after a swim. he hurled short, sharp sentences at her, as if anxious to be rid of them. sometimes he would sit hunched up at his table, at others he would spring up and proceed feverishly to pace about the room. as she filled page after page of her note-book, dorothy wondered when she would have an opportunity of transcribing her notes. hour after hour john dene dictated, in short bursts, interspersed with varying pauses, during which he seemed to be deep in thought. once sir bridgman looked in, and dorothy had a space in which to breathe; but with the departure of the first sea lord the torrent jerked forth afresh. at two o'clock dorothy felt that she must either scream or faint. her right hand seemed as if it would drop off. at last she suggested that even admiralty typists required lunch. in a flash john dene seemed to change into a human being, solicitous and self-reproachful. "too bad," he said, as he pulled out his watch. "why, it's a quarter after two. you must be all used up. i'm sorry." "and aren't you hungry as well, mr. dene?" she asked, as she closed her note-book and rose. "hungry!" he repeated as if she had asked him a surprising question. "i've no use for food when i'm hustling. where do you go for lunch?" "i go to a tea-shop," said dorothy after a moment's hesitation. "and what do you eat?" demanded john dene, with the air of a cross-examining counsel. "oh, all sorts of things," she laughed; "buns and eggs and--and----" "that's no good," was the uncompromising rejoinder. "they're really quite nourishing," she said with a smile. at the admiralty it was not customary for the chiefs to enquire what the typists ate. "you'd better come with me and have a good meal," he said bluntly, reaching for his hat. dorothy flushed. the implication was too obvious to be overlooked. drawing herself up slightly, and with her head a little thrown back, she declined. "i'm afraid i have an engagement," she said coldly. john dene looked up, puzzled to account for her sudden hauteur. he watched her leave the room, and then, throwing down his hat, reseated himself at his table and once more became absorbed in his work. dorothy went to the admiralty staff-restaurant and spent a week's lunch allowance upon her meal. it seemed to help her to regain her self-respect. when she returned to john dene's room some forty minutes later, determined to get some of her notes typed before he returned, she found him still sitting at his table. as she entered he took out his watch, looked at it and then up at her. dorothy crimsoned as if discovered in some illicit act. she was angry with herself for her weakness and with john dene--why, she could not have said. "you've been hustling some," he remarked, as he returned the watch to his pocket. "we've both been quick," said dorothy, curious to know if john dene had been to lunch. "oh, i stayed right here," he said, still gazing up at her. dorothy felt rebuked. he had evidently felt snubbed, she told herself, and it was her fault that he had remained at work. "see here," said john dene, "i can't breathe in this place. it's all gold braid and brass buttons. i'm going to rent my own offices, and have lunch sent in and we'll get some work done. you can get a rest or a walk about three. i don't like breaking off in the midst of things," he added, a little lamely, dorothy thought. "very well, mr. dene," she said, as she resumed her seat. "do you mind? say right out if you'd hate it." there was a suspicion of anxiety in his tone. "i'm here to do whatever you wish," she said with dignity. with a sudden movement john dene sprang up and proceeded to pace up and down the room. from time to time he glanced at dorothy, who sat pencil and note-book ready for the flood of staccatoed sentences that usually accompanied these pacings to and fro. at length he came to a standstill in the middle of the room, planted his feet wide apart as if to steady the resolution to which he had apparently come. "say, what's all this worth to you?" he blurted out. dorothy looked up in surprise, not grasping his meaning. "worth to me?" she queried, her head on one side, the tip of her pencil resting on her lower lip. "yes; what do they pay you?" "oh! i see. thirty-five shillings a week and, if i become a permanent, a pension when i'm too old to enjoy it," she laughed. "that is if the hun hasn't taken us over by then." "that'll be about nine dollars a week," mumbled john dene, twisting his cigar round between his lips. "well, you're worth twenty dollars a week to me, so i'll make up the rest." "i'm quite satisfied, thank you," she said, drawing herself up slightly. "well, i'm not," he blurted out. "you're going to work well for me, and you're going to be well paid." "i'm afraid i cannot accept it," she said firmly, "although it's very kind of you," she added with a smile. he regarded her in surprise. it was something new to him to find anyone refusing an increase in salary. his cigar twirled round with remarkable rapidity. "i suppose i'm getting his goat," thought dorothy, as she watched him from beneath lowered lashes. "why won't you take it?" he demanded. "i'm afraid i cannot accept presents," she said with what she thought a disarming smile. "oh, shucks!" john dene was annoyed. "if the admiralty thought i was worth more than thirty-five shillings a week, they would pay me more." "well, i'm not going to have anyone around that doesn't get a living wage," he announced explosively. "does that mean that i had better go?" she inquired calmly. "no, it doesn't. you just stay right here till i get back," was the reply, and he opened the door and disappeared, leaving dorothy with the conviction that someone was to suffer because, in john dene's opinion, she was inadequately paid. as she waited for john dene's return, she could not keep her thoughts from what an extra forty-five shillings a week would mean to her. she could increase the number and quality of the little "surprises" she took home with her to the mother in whose life she bulked so largely. peaches could be bought without the damning prefix "tinned"; salmon without the discouraging modification "canadian"; eggs that had not long since forgotten what hen had laid them and when. she could take her more often to a theatre, or for a run in a taxi when she was tired. in short, a hundred and seventeen pounds a year would buy quite a lot of rose-leaves with which to colour her mother's life. whilst dorothy was building castles in spain upon a foundation of eleven dollars a week, john dene walked briskly along the corridor leading to sir lyster's room. mr. blair was seated at his desk reading with calm deliberation and self-evident satisfaction a letter he had just written for sir lyster to one of his constituents. he had devoted much time and thought to the composition, as it was for publication, and he was determined that no one should find in it flaw or ambiguity. the morning had been one of flawless serenity, and he was looking forward to a pleasant lunch with some friends at the berkeley. "here, what the hell do you mean by giving that girl only nine dollars a week?" suddenly the idyllic peaceful ness of his mood was shattered into a thousand fragments. john dene had burst into the room with the force of a cyclone, and stood before him like an accusing fury. "nine dollars a week! what girl?" he stuttered, looking up weakly into john dene's angry eyes. "i--i----" "miss west," was the retort. "she's getting nine dollars a week, less than i pay an office boy in t'ronto." "but i--it's nothing to do with me," began mr. blair miserably. he had become mortally afraid of john dene, and prayed for the time to come when the hun submarine menace would be ended, and john dene could return to toronto, where no doubt he was understood and appreciated. "well, it ought to be," snapped john dene, just as sir bridgman north came out of sir lyster's room. "good morning, mr. dene," he cried genially. "what are you doing to poor blair?" john dene explained his grievance. "i'd pay the difference myself, just to make you all feel a bit small, only she won't take it from me." "well, i think i can promise that the matter shall be put right, and we'll make blair take her out to lunch by way of apology, shall we?" he laughed. "i'd like to see him ask her," said john dene grimly. "that girl's a high-stepper, sir. nine dollars a week!" he grumbled as he left the room to the manifest relief of mr. blair. "you're being gingered-up, blair," said sir bridgman; "in fact, we're all being gingered-up. it's a bit surprising at first; but it's a great game played slow. you'll get to like it in time, and it's all for the good of the british empire." mr. blair smiled weakly as sir bridgman left the room; but in his heart he wished it were possible to have a sentinel outside his door, with strict injunctions to bayonet john dene without hesitation should he seek admittance. "i've fixed it," announced john dene, as he burst in upon dorothy's day dream. "you'll get twenty dollars in future." she looked up quickly. "you're very kind, mr. dene," she said, "but is it--is it----?" she hesitated. "it's a square deal. i told them you wouldn't take it from me, and that i wasn't going to have my secretary paid less than an office boy in t'ronto. i gingered 'em up some. nine dollars a week for you!" the tone in which the last sentence was uttered brought a slight flush to dorothy's cheeks. "now you can get on," he announced, picking up his hat. "i'm going to find offices;" and he went out like a gust of wind. dorothy typed steadily on. of one thing she had become convinced, that the position of secretary to john dene of toronto was not going to prove a rest-billet. at a little after four marjorie rogers knocked at the door and, recognising dorothy's "come in," entered stealthily as if expecting someone to jump out at her. "where's the bear, wessie?" she enquired, keeping a weather eye on the door in case john dene should return. "gone out to buy bear-biscuits," laughed dorothy, leaning back in her chair to get the kink out of her spine. "do you think he'll marry you?" enquired the little brunette romantically, as she perched herself upon john dene's table and swung a pretty leg. "they don't usually, you know." "he'll probably kill you if he catches you," said dorothy. "oh, if he comes i'm here to ask if you would like some tea," was the airy reply. "you angel!" cried dorothy. "i should love it." "has he tried to kiss you yet?" demanded the girl, looking at dorothy searchingly. "don't be ridiculous," cried dorothy, conscious that she was flushing. "i see he has," she said, regarding dorothy judicially and nodding her head wisely. dorothy re-started typing. it was absurd, she decided, to endeavour to argue with this worldly child of whitehall. "they're all the same," continued marjorie, lifting her skirt slightly and gazing with obvious approval at the symmetry of her leg. "you didn't let him, i hope," continued the girl. "you see, it makes it bad for others." then a moment later she added, "it should be chocs. before kisses, and they've got to learn the ropes." "and you, you little imp, have got to learn morals." dorothy laughed in spite of herself at the quaint air of wisdom with which this girl of eighteen settled the ethics of whitehall. "what's the use of morals?" cried the girl. "i mean morals that get in the way of your having a good time. of course i wouldn't----" she paused. "never mind what you wouldn't do, brynhilda the bold," said dorothy, "but concentrate on the woulds, and bring me the tea you promised." the girl slipped off the table and darted across the room, returning a few minutes later with a cup of tea and a few biscuits. "i can't stop," she panted. "old goggles has been giving me the bird;" and with that she was gone. it was a quarter to seven before john dene returned. without a word he threw his hat on the bookcase and seated himself at his table. for the next quarter of an hour he was absorbed in reading the lists and letters dorothy had typed. at seven o'clock dorothy placed the last list on the table before him. "is there anything more, mr. dene?" she enquired. she was conscious of feeling inexpressibly weary. "yes," said john dene, without looking up. "you're coming out to have some dinner." "i'm afraid i can't, thank you," she said. "my mother is waiting." "oh shucks!" he cried, looking up quickly. "but it isn't!" she said wearily. "isn't what?" demanded john dene. "shucks!" she said; then, seeing the absurdity of the thing, she laughed. "we'll send your mother an express message or a wire. you look dead beat." he smiled and dorothy capitulated. it would be nice, she told herself, not to have to go all the way to chiswick before having anything to eat. "but where are you taking me, mr. dene?" enquired dorothy, as they turned from waterloo place into pall mall. "to the ritzton." "but i'm--i'm----" she stopped dead. "what's wrong?" he demanded, looking at her in surprise. "i--i can't go there," she stammered. "i'm not dressed for----" she broke off lamely. "that'll be all right," he said. "it's my hotel." "it may be your hotel," said dorothy, resuming the walk, "but i don't care to go there in a blouse and a skirt to be stared at." "who'll stare at you?" "not at me, at my clothes," she corrected. "then we'll go to the grill-room," he replied with inspiration. "that might be----" she hesitated. "you're not going home until you have something to eat," he announced with determination. "you look all used up," he added. dorothy submitted to the inevitable, conscious of a feeling of content at having someone to decide things for her. suddenly she remembered marjorie rogers' remarks. what was she doing? if any of the girls saw her they would---- she had done the usual thing, sent a telegram to her mother to say she should be late, and was dining out with her chief on the first day---- oh! it was horrible. "would you--would you?"--she turned to john dene appealingly,--"would you mind if i went home," she faltered. "i'm not feeling--very well." she gulped out the last words conscious of the lie. "why sure," he said solicitously. "i'm sorry." to her infinite relief he hailed a taxi. "i'll come along and see you safe," he announced in a matter-of-fact tone. "oh, please no," she cried, "i'd much sooner----" she broke off distressed. without a word he handed her into the taxi. "where am i to tell him?" he enquired. "douglas mansions, chiswick, please," gasped dorothy, and she sank back in the taxi with a feeling that she had behaved very ridiculously. chapter v john dene leaves whitehall i "come," shouted john dene irritably. the door opened and mr. blair entered. john dene swung round from his table and glared at him angrily. "i tried to telephone," began mr. blair. "well, you can't," snapped john dene, "receiver's off. your boys have been playing dido all morning on my 'phone." "i'm sorry if----" "that don't help any. why don't you stop 'em? seem to think i'm a sort of enquiry bureau." dorothy bent low over her notes to hide the smile she could not restrain at the sight of the obvious wretchedness of mr. blair. "sir lyster would like you to step round----" "well, i won't; tell him that," was the irascible reply. "he wants you to meet sir harold winn, the chief naval constructor," explained mr. blair. "tell him to go to blazes and take his constructions with him. now vamoose." mr. blair hesitated, glanced at john dene, seemed about to speak, then evidently thinking better of it withdrew, closing the door noiselessly behind him. as john dene swung round once more to his table, he caught dorothy's eye. she smiled. with a little grumble in his throat john dene became absorbed in his papers. dorothy decided that he was a little ashamed of his outburst. all the day he had shown marked irritability under the constant interruptions to which he had been subjected. they worked on steadily for a quarter of an hour. presently there was a gentle tap at the door. with one bound john dene was out of his chair and across the room. a second later he threw open the door, ready to annihilate whoever might be there, from the first lord downwards. "oo--er!" marjorie rogers stood there, her pretty eyes dilated with fear as john dene glared at her. his set look relaxed at the sight of the girl. "is--is--miss west here?" she enquired timidly. "sure, come right in," he said. dorothy was surprised at the change produced by the appearance of marjorie rogers. the girl came a few steps into the room, then seeing dorothy tripped over to her and, turning to john dene, said, still a little nervously: "i--i came to ask miss west if she would like some tea." she smiled up at john dene, a picture of guileless innocence. "sorry if i scared you," he said awkwardly. "oh, you didn't frighten me," she said, regaining confidence at the sight of john dene's embarrassment. "perhaps mr. dene would like a cup of tea too, rojjie," suggested dorothy. "oh, would you?" cried the girl eagerly. "why, sure," said john dene and he smiled, for the first time that day, dorothy mentally noted. in a flash marjorie disappeared. "i'm--i'm sorry," said john dene to dorothy. "i didn't know she was a friend of yours." "she's in the room i used to be in, and--she's very sweet and brings me tea." he nodded comprehendingly. "they do a lot of that here, don't they?" "a lot of what?" asked dorothy. "drinking tea." "we only have it in the afternoon, and----" at that moment marjorie entered with a small tray containing three cups of tea and a plate of biscuits. these she placed on john dene's table. dorothy gasped at the sight of the three cups, wondering what john dene would think. "i brought mine in to have with you," said marjorie with perfect self-possession, as she handed dorothy her cup, then turning to john dene she smiled. he nodded, as if she had done a most ordinary thing. perching herself upon the corner of john dene's table, marjorie chatted brightly, having apparently quite overcome her fears. "you know, mr. dene," she said, "we're all dreadfully intrigued about you." john dene looked at her with a puzzled expression. "all the other girls are terribly afraid of you," she continued. "i'm not." "of me?" he looked at her in surprise, as if he regarded himself as the last person in the world to inspire fear. "they say you glare at them." she smiled a wicked little smile that she called "the rouser." as john dene did not reply marjorie continued: "they call you 'the bear.'" "rojjie!" gasped dorothy in horror. "the bear?" repeated john dene. "why?" "oh, but i am going to tell them you're not," said marjorie, nibbling at a biscuit and looking across at john dene appraisingly. "i think you're really rather nice." john dene glanced across at dorothy, as if unable quite to classify the girl before him. "of course they don't know that you can smile like that," added marjorie. john dene was about to make some remark when there came another knock. "come," he cried, and a moment later the door opened and sir lyster entered, followed by a tall, sedate-looking man with a bulging forehead and ragged moustache. for a moment the two regarded the scene, sir lyster having recourse to his monocle. marjorie slipped down from the table, all her self-possession deserting her at the sight of sir lyster's disapproving gaze. dorothy bent over her notes, conscious of her burning cheeks, whilst john dene rose with entire unconcern. "i'm afraid we've interrupted you, mr. dene," said sir lyster. "it's the one thing they do well in this shack," was john dene's uncompromising retort. sir lyster gazed a little anxiously at his companion. taking advantage of the diversion, marjorie slipped out and dorothy, deciding that she would not be wanted for at least a few minutes, followed her. "i want to introduce you to sir harold winn," said sir lyster. "pleased to meet you," said john dene, shaking sir harold vigorously by the hand. "take a seat." john dene and the chief naval constructor were soon deep in the intricacies of submarine-construction. when at length sir harold rose to go, there was something like cordiality in john dene's voice, as he bade him good-bye. sir harold had been able to meet him on common ground, and show an intelligent and comprehensive interest in his work. immediately they had gone, dorothy, who had been waiting in the corridor, slipped back to her chair, first removing the tea tray from john dene's table. soon she was busily taking down notes. while she was thus occupied, sir lyster was narrating to sir bridgman north the latest john dene outrage, first his open flouting of the chief naval constructor by refusing to see him, secondly the interrupted tea, and the girl perched upon john dene's table. sir bridgman laughed loudly, as much at the expression on sir lyster's face as at the occurrence itself. "such incidents," said sir lyster, "are, i think, very undesirable." "it looks as if john dene were a dark horse," suggested sir bridgman. "was the other girl pretty?" "i really didn't notice," said sir lyster stiffly. "i thought perhaps you might"--he hesitated for a fraction of a second--"just drop him a hint," he added. "and be gingered-up as high as our own aerials," laughed sir bridgman. "no, my dear grayne," he added, "i find 'gingering-up' intensely interesting in its application to others. get blair to do it." "but i'm afraid it may create a scandal," said sir lyster. "oh! another little scandal won't do us any harm," laughed sir bridgman. "now i must be off. by the way," he said, as he reached the door, "what time did this little tea-fight take place?" "it was about four o'clock when winn and i----" "right," said sir bridgman, "i'll drop in about that time to-morrow and see what's doing," and the door closed behind him. a moment later he put his head round the door. "one of these days you'll be finding blair with a girl on each knee," he laughed, and with that he was gone. john dene's reason for wishing to have offices somewhere away from the admiralty had been twofold. for one thing he did not desire those he knew were closely watching should see him in close association with whitehall; for another he felt that he could breathe more freely away from gold braid and those long dreary corridors, which seemed so out of keeping with the headquarters of a navy at war. he now determined to get out at once. the constant interruptions to which he found himself subjected, rendered concentration impossible. he therefore informed dorothy that at nine o'clock next morning they would start work in the new offices he had taken in waterloo place. they consisted of two rooms, one leading off the other. the larger room john dene decided to use himself, the smaller he handed over to dorothy. with a celerity that had rather surprised john dene the telephone had been connected and a private wire run through to the admiralty. "the thing about a britisher," he remarked to dorothy, "is that he can hustle, but won't." she allowed the remark to pass unchallenged. "now things will begin to hum," he said, as he settled himself down to his table. throwing aside his coat, he set to work. there was little over three weeks in which to get everything organised and planned. long lists of stores for the _destroyer_ had to be prepared, the details of the structural alterations to the _toronto_, the name given to the mother-ship that was to act as tender to the _destroyer_, instructions to the canadian crew that was coming over, and a thousand and one other things that kept them busily occupied. he arranged to have luncheon sent in from the ritzton. after the first day the ordering of these meals was delegated to dorothy. john dene's ideas on the subject of food proved original, resulting in the ordering of about five times as much as necessary. dorothy came to look forward to these dainty meals, which she could order with unstinted hand, and she liked the tête-à-tête half-hours during their consumption. then john dene would unbend and tell her of canada, about his life there and in america, how he had planned and built the _destroyer_. he seemed to take it for granted that she could be trusted to keep her own counsel. the night after john dene's entry into his new offices the place was burgled. in the morning when he arrived he found papers tossed about in reckless disorder. the fourth set of plans of german u-boats had disappeared. with grim humour he drew a fifth set from his pocket, and placed it in the safe, which he did not keep locked, as it contained nothing of importance. john dene's method was to burn every paper or duplicate that was no longer required, and to have sent over to the admiralty each day before five o'clock such documents as were of importance. for the first time in her life dorothy felt she was doing something of national importance. john dene trusted her, and took her patriotism as a matter of course. sometimes he would enquire if she were tired, and on hearing that she was not he would nod his approval. "you're some worker," he once remarked casually, whereat dorothy had flushed with pleasure. later she remembered that this was the first word of praise she had heard him bestow on anything or anybody british. at first a buttons had called from the ritzton each morning and afternoon for orders; but after the second day he had been superseded by a waiter. one morning, after the order had been given, john dene enquired of dorothy if she had ever tasted lobster à l'americaine. "typists don't eat lobster à l'americaine in england, mr. dene," she had replied. "it's too expensive." whereupon he had told her to ring up the ritzton and order lobster à l'americaine for lunch in place of the order already given. ten minutes later a ring came through from the hotel to the effect that there must be some mistake, as there was no lunch on order for mr. john dene. dorothy protested that they had been supplied with lunch each day for the last four days. the management deprecatingly suggested that there had been a mistake, as after the first two days the order had been cancelled. dorothy repeated the information to john dene, who then took the receiver. "if you didn't supply lunch yesterday, who the blazes did?" he demanded, and a suave voice answered that it did not know who it was that had that honour, but certainly it was not the ritzton. john dene banged back the receiver impatiently. "we'll wait and see what happens at twelve o'clock," he exclaimed, as he turned once more to the papers on his table. "somebody's feeding us," he muttered. "perhaps it's the ravens," murmured dorothy to herself. at twelve o'clock a waiter entered with a tray. at the sound of his knock, john dene revolved round in his chair. "here, where do you come from?" he demanded, glaring as if he suspected the man of being of german parentage. the man started violently and nearly dropped the tray. "i obey orders," he stammered. "yes; but whose orders?" for a moment the man hesitated. "do you come from the ritzton?" demanded john dene aggressively. "i obey orders," repeated the man. john dene looked from the tray to dorothy, and then to the man; but said nothing, contenting himself with waving the man out with an impatient motion of his hand. after the meal he picked up his hat, lighted a cigar and told dorothy he would be back in a quarter of an hour. five minutes later he burst in upon mr. blair. "here, what the hell's all this about my meals?" john dene seemed to take a delight in descending upon sir lyster's secretary. mr. blair turned towards him with that expression he seemed to keep expressly for john dene. "your meals," he stammered. "yes," replied john dene, blowing volumes of acrid smoke towards the sensitive nostrils of mr. blair. "why was my order to the ritzton cancelled? that sort of thing rattles me." "i'm afraid that i know nothing of this," said mr. blair, "but i will enquire." "well, i'd like somebody to put me wise as to why he interferes with my affairs," and john dene stamped out of the room and back to waterloo place. ii "shucks!" cried john dene irritably. "you make me tired." "i doubt if you appreciate the seriousness of the situation," was colonel walton's quiet retort. "i appreciate the seriousness of a situation that turns my 'phone into a sort of elevator-bell, and makes my office like a free-drink saloon at an election." colonel walton smiled indulgently, dorothy kept her eyes upon her note-book. "you get your notion about spies from ten cent thrillers," continued john dene scornfully. "don't you worry about me. if there's a hungry dog i believe in feeding it," he added enigmatically. "i might as well be a lost baggage office. every mutt that has ten minutes to waste seems to blow in on me. you're the tenth this a.m." "at that rate you will soon have exhausted all the government departments," said colonel walton with a smile. "i doubt if any will venture a second visit," he added quietly. john dene glanced across at him quickly. "say, i didn't mean to make you mad," he said in a conciliatory tone; "but all this rattles me. i can't get along with things while they're playing rags on my 'phone. it makes me madder'n a wet hen." "i quite understand, mr. dene," said colonel walton, with that imperturbable good-humour that was the envy of his friends. "you are rather valuable to us, you see, and if we err on the side of over-caution----" he paused. "sure," cried john dene, thawing under the influence of colonel walton's personality, then after a pause he added. "see here, your boys seem to have a notion that i'm particular green goods. you just let one of 'em try and corral me one of these nights, and when you've explained things to the widow, you can just blow in here and tell me how she took it." "it's the insidious rather than the overt act," began colonel walton. "the what?" john dene looked at him with a puzzled expression. instead of replying colonel walton drew from his right-hand pocket something in a paper bag, such as is used by confectioners. this he placed upon the table. he then extracted from his other pocket a small package rolled in newspaper, which he laid beside the paper bag. john dene stared at him as if not quite sure of his sanity. "perhaps you will open those packets." with his eyes still on his visitor john dene picked up the paper bag and, turning it upside down, shook out upon the table a brown and white guinea-pig--dead. dorothy drew back with a little cry. "this some of your funny work?" demanded john dene angrily. "there's still the other parcel," said colonel walton, his eyes upon the small roll done up in newspaper. very gingerly john dene unrolled the paper, dorothy watching from a safe distance with wide-eyed curiosity. "gee!" he muttered, as a large dead grey rat lay exposed, its upper lip drawn back from his teeth, giving it a snarling appearance. he looked interrogatingly at colonel walton. "there; but for the grace of god lies john dene of toronto," he remarked quietly, nodding in the direction of the two rodents. "here, what the hell----!" began john dene, then catching sight of dorothy he stopped suddenly. "two days ago you ordered for lunch ris de veau and apple tart--among other things. the rat is the victim of the one, the guinea-pig of the other." dorothy gave a little cry of horror. john dene looked across at her quickly, then back to colonel walton. "you mean----" he began. "that a certain department has assumed the responsibility of catering for a distinguished visitor," was the quiet reply. "it is but one of the pleasant obligations of empire." john dene sat gazing at the dead animals as if fascinated. with distended eyes and slightly parted lips dorothy looked from the table to colonel walton, and then back to the table again, as if unable to comprehend the full significance of what was taking place. "i would suggest," said colonel walton, "that you never take food regularly at any one hotel or restaurant. avoid being out late at night, particularly raid-nights." "raid-nights!" "you might be knocked on the head and removed as a casualty." john dene nodded, dorothy gasped. "never take food or drink of any sort in your room at the hotel, and don't travel on the tube or underground, at least never stand on the edge of the platform, and don't use taxis." "and what about a nurse?" demanded john dene. "if you observe these points i scarcely think one would be necessary," was the quiet rejoinder. "it would also be advisable," continued colonel walton, "for miss west to be particularly careful about making chance acquaintances." dorothy drew herself up stiffly. "during the last few days," continued colonel walton, "a number of attempts have been made by women as well as men." "how did you know?" she cried in surprise. "we have sources of information," smiled colonel walton. "for instance, the day before yesterday, at lunch, a pleasant-spoken old lady asked you to go with her to the theatre one saturday afternoon." dorothy gasped. "you very rightly declined. a few days ago a man ran after you just as you had left the tube train at piccadilly circus, saying that you had left your umbrella." "how funny that you should know!" cried dorothy. "such a number of people have spoken to me lately. first it was men, and now it's always women." "make no acquaintances at all, miss west," said colonel walton. "i'll remember," she said, nodding her head with decision. "well, mr. dene, i fear i mustn't take up any more of your time," said colonel walton, rising, with that air of indolence which with him invariably meant that something important was coming. "if you will not allow us to be responsible for your own safety, we must at least provide for that of government servants." "what's that?" "we should not like anything to happen to miss west." to colonel walton's "good-day" john dene made no response, he seemed unaware that he had left the room. "gee!" he muttered at length, then swinging round to dorothy with a suddenness that caused her to start, "you had better vamoose," he cried. "vam----" she began. "how do i do it?" "quit, clear out of here." he sprang from his chair and proceeded to pace up and down the room. "does that mean that i'm discharged?" she enquired, smiling. "you heard what he said. they're up to their funny work. they missed us this time and got the rat and guinea-pig. they're always at it. i don't make a fuss; but i know. there'll be a bomb in my bed one of these nights. you'd better call a halt right here." "shall we get on with the letters, mr. dene?" said dorothy quietly. "father was a soldier." for a moment he looked at her with his keen penetrating eyes, then swinging round to his table caught sight of the two dead rodents. "here, what the blazes does he want to leave these things here for," he cried irritably and, seizing a ruler, he swept them into the waste-paper basket. for the rest of the day dorothy was conscious that john dene's heart was not in his work. several times, when happening to look up unexpectedly, she found his eyes on her, and there was in them an anxiety too obvious to be dissimulated. john dene was clearly worried. "it's an extraordinary thing," sage remarked later that afternoon to colonel walton, "that apparently no one has ever thought of encouraging a taste for apple-tart in guinea-pigs." chapter vi mr. montagu naylor of streatham whilst john dene was preparing interminable lists for the victualling and stores departments of the admiralty, department z. was making discreet and searching enquiries regarding mr. montagu naylor of streatham. among other things it discovered that he was essentially english. the atrocities in belgium and northern france rendered him almost speechless with indignation. wherever he went, and to whomsoever he met, he proclaimed the german an enemy to civilisation. it was his one topic of conversation, and in time his friends and acquaintance came to regard the word "hun" as a danger signal. mr. naylor had arrived at streatham towards the end of , coming from no one knew whither; but according to his own account from norwich. he was of independent means, without encumbrances beyond a wife, a deaf servant, registered as a swiss, and a particularly fierce-dispositioned chow, an animal that caused marked irregularity in the delivery of his milk, newspapers and letters. sometimes the animal chose to resent the approach of all comers, and after the postman had lost a portion of his right trouser-leg, he had decided that whatever might happen to his majesty's mails, the postman's calf was sacred. thenceforth he never delivered letters when james was at large. without participating in the postman's mishap, the paper-boy and milkman had adopted his tactics. the dustman point-blank refused to touch the refuse from "the cedars" unless it were placed on the pavement, and the gate securely closed. sometimes the readings of the electric and gas meters were formally noted by officials, whose uniform began and ended with their caps; sometimes they were not. everything depended upon the geographical position of james at the moment of the inspector's call. the baker who supplied mr. naylor had, as a result of a complaint from his man, made a personal call of protest; but he had succeeded only in losing his temper to mr. naylor and the seat of his trousers to james. thenceforth "the cedars" had to seek its bread elsewhere. incidentally the master-baker obtained a new pair of trousers at mr. naylor's expense. why mr. naylor continued to keep james was a puzzle to all the neighbours, who, knowing him as a champion of the rights of man, votes for women, the smaller nations, and many other equally uncomfortable things, were greatly surprised that he should keep a dog that was clearly of a savage and dangerous disposition. about mr. naylor himself there was nothing of the ferocity of his dog. he was suave, with a somewhat deprecating manner, a ready, almost automatic smile, in which his eyes never seemed to join, a sallow complexion, large round glasses, a big nose and ugly teeth. he had a thick voice, thick ears and a thick skin--when it so served his purpose. his love for england was almost alien, and he was never tired of motoring from one part of the country to another, that is before the war. his car had been something unique, as in a few seconds it could be turned into a moderately comfortable sleeping apartment. thus he was independent of hotels, or lodgings. mrs. naylor was a woman of negative personality. she looked after the house, fed james and never asked questions of mr. naylor, thus justifying her existence. susan, the maid, was also negative, from her stupid round, moist face to the shapeless feet that she never seemed to be able to lift from the floor. she had acquired great dexterity in shuffling out of the way just before mr. naylor appeared. this she seemed to have reduced to a fine art. if mr. naylor were going upstairs and susan was about to descend, by the time he was halfway up she would have disappeared as effectively as if snatched away by some spirit agency. susan was dumb; but her sense of sound was extremely acute. it seemed as if, conscious of her inability to hold her own verbally with her employer, she had fallen back upon the one alternative, disappearance. the naylors were possessed of few friends, although mr. naylor had many acquaintances, the result of the way in which he had identified himself with local clubs and institutions. it was largely due to him that the miniature rifle-range had been started. he was one of the governors of the cranberry cottage hospital. he always subscribed to the annual territorial sports, patronised the boy scouts, openly advocated conscription, and the two-power standard for the navy. there were times when streatham found it almost embarrassing to be possessed of a patriot in its midst. never had a breath of scandal tarnished the fair name of mr. montagu naylor. he was what a citizen should be and seldom is. when war broke out his activities became almost bewildering. he joined innumerable committees, helped to form the volunteers, and encouraged every one and everything that was likely to make things uncomfortable for the enemy. later, he became a member of the local exemption tribunal, and earned fame by virtue of his clemency. it was he who was instrumental in obtaining exemption for some of james's most implacable enemies. the baker, who had lost the whole of his temper and a portion of his trousers, probably owed his life to the manner in which mr. naylor championed his claim that bread is mightier than the sword. before the war the naylors received twice each month, once their friends and once their relatives. never were the two allowed to meet. "our friends we make ourselves, our relatives are given to us," mr. naylor had explained with ponderous humour, "i hate to mix the two." it was noticed that the relatives stayed much longer than the friends, and some commiseration was felt for the naylors by their immediate neighbours. there had been one curious circumstance in connection with these social functions. whenever the friends were invited, james was always in the front garden, restrained by a chain that allowed of the guests carrying their calves into the hall with an eighteen inch margin of safety. when, however, it was the turn of the relatives to seek the hospitality of "the cedars," james was never visible. a cynic might have construed this into indicating that from his relatives mr. naylor had expectations. within his own home mr. naylor was a changed man. he ruled mrs. naylor, susan and james with an iron hand. they all fawned upon him, vainly inviting the smiles that when others were present seemed never to fail in the mechanical precision with which they illumined his features at appropriate moments. they gave the impression of being turned on, as if controlled by a tap or switch. never was this smile seen once the hall door was passed. then mr. naylor's jaw squared, and his whole attitude seemed to become more angular. a knock at the door would cause him to look up quickly from whatever he was doing, just as a gamekeeper might look up at the report of a gun. by his orders mrs. naylor and susan between them kept a complete list of all callers, even hawkers, if they were sufficiently courageous to risk an encounter with the redoubtable james. mr. naylor was a tall man of broad build, with a head that would persist in remaining square, in spite of his best endeavours to grow the hair upon it in such a way as to soften its angularity. his eyes were steely, his forehead low, his mouth hard and his manner furtive. that was within doors. the breath of heaven, however, seemed to mitigate all these unamiable characteristics, and it was only on very rare occasions that, once beyond his own threshold, an observer would see the harshness of the man. he smiled down at children, sometimes he patted their heads, he was never lacking in a tip, appropriate or inappropriate, he was the smoother out of discordant situations, he nodded to all the tradespeople, smiled genially at his inferiors, and saluted his superiors and equals. in short he was an ideal citizen. the outbreak of war in august, , was responsible for two changes in the naylor ménage. first the at-home days were discontinued, secondly james was more than ever in evidence. nobody, however, noticed the changes, because in streatham such things are not considered worthy of notice. mr. naylor received few letters, for which the postman was grateful to providence. had streatham been a little more curious, it would have noticed that mr. naylor's comings and goings were fraught with some curious and interesting characteristics. for one thing he appeared constitutionally unable to proceed direct to a given point. for instance, if hampstead were his object, he would in all probability go to charing cross, take a 'bus along strand, the tube to piccadilly circus, a taxi to leicester square, tube to golders green and 'bus to hampstead. another curious circumstance connected with mr. naylor was the number of people who seemed to stop him to enquire their way, obviously people who found it difficult to pronounce the names and addresses of those they sought, for they invariably held in their hands pieces of paper, which mr. naylor would read and then proceed to direct them. this would occur in all parts of london. to the casual observer interested in the details of mr. naylor's life, it would have appeared that london waited for his approach, and then incontinently made a bee-line for him to enquire its way. with smiling geniality mr. naylor would read the paper offered to him, make one or two remarks, then with a wave of his hand and a further genial smile proceed on his way. his courtesy was almost continental. he would take great pains to direct the enquirer, sometimes even proceeding part of the way with him to ensure that he should not go astray. since the war mr. naylor had patriotically given up his car, handing it over to the red cross, and receiving from the local secretary a letter of very genuine thanks and appreciation. there had also been a paragraph in _the streatham herald_ notifying this splendid act of citizenship. in nothing was mr. naylor's sense of christian charity so manifest as in the patience with which he answered the number of false rings he received on the telephone. it was extraordinary the way in which wrong numbers seemed to be put through to him; yet his courtesy never forsook him. his reply was always the same. "no; i am mr. montague naylor of streatham." it frequently happened that shortly after such a call mr. naylor would go out, when james would be left in the front garden. mrs. naylor had particular instructions always to make a note of any rings that came on the telephone during mr. naylor's absence, no matter whether they were for him or for anyone else. she was to take down every word that was said, and always say in response that the subscriber was on to mr. naylor of streatham. one morning whilst john dene was giving down letters to dorothy in his customary jerky manner, mr. naylor sat at breakfast, his attention equally divided between the meal and the morning paper. opposite sat mrs. naylor, watching him as a dog watches a master of uncertain temper. she was a little woman with a colourless face, from which sparse grey hair was drawn with puritan severity. in her weak blue eyes was fear--fear of her lord and master, and in her manner deprecation and apology. the only sound to be heard were the champing of mr. naylor's jaws, and the occasional rustle of the newspaper. mr. naylor was a hearty eater and an omnivorous reader of newspapers. in the front garden james gave occasional tongue, protesting against the existence of some passer-by. after a particularly vigorous bout of barking on james's part, mr. naylor looked up suddenly and, fixing mrs. naylor with astern eye, demanded, "any post?" "i haven't heard the post-woman yet," faltered mrs. naylor apologetically. she was at heart a pacifist in the domestic sense. "go and see," was the gruff retort, as mr. naylor thrust into his mouth a large piece of bread, which he had previously wiped round his plate to absorb the elemental juices of the morning bacon. mrs. naylor rose meekly and left the room. a few moments later she returned, carrying in her hand two envelopes. mr. naylor looked up over his spectacles. "they were on the path," she explained timidly. "james is in the garden." the post-woman had tacitly carried on the tradition of her predecessor, the postman. if james were about, the letters went over the garden gate; if james were not about, they went into the letter-box. with a grunt mr. naylor snatched the letters from mrs. naylor's hand and looked at them keenly. one bore a halfpenny stamp, and was consequently of no particular importance. this he laid beside his plate. the other, however, he subjected to a rigorous and elaborate examination. he scrutinised the handwriting, examined carefully the postmark, turned it over and gazed at the fastening. then taking a letter-opener from his pocket, he slowly slit the top of the envelope, and taking out a sheet of notepaper unfolded it. "gott----" he bit off the phrase savagely, and looked up fiercely at mrs. naylor, as if she was responsible for his lapse. instinctively she shrank back. from the garden james's vigorous barking swelled out into a fortissimo of protest. "stop that dog," he shouted, whereat mrs. naylor rose and left the room. with scowling eyebrows mr. naylor read his letter, and ground his teeth with suppressed fury. "der mann muss verrückt 'sein." he re-read the letter, then placing it in his pocket looked across the table, seeming for the first time to notice that mrs. naylor had left the room. going to the door he opened it and shouted a peremptory "here!" as mrs. naylor entered with obvious trepidation, he fixed her with a stern disapproving eye. "there's somebody coming this afternoon at four," he said. "i'll see him in the study," and with that he once more drew the letter from his pocket and read it for the third time, whilst mrs. naylor withdrew. the letter which was typewritten, even to the signature, ran: 'dear mr. naylor,-- "i hope to call upon you on thursday afternoon at four o'clock. i regret that unforseen circumstances have prevented me from giving myself this pleasure before. "yours very truly, "j. van helder." with a grumble in his throat mr. naylor walked out of the dining-room, across the hall and into his study. closing and locking the door he went over to his writing-table, and seemed to collapse into rather than sit on the chair. he was oblivious to everything except the scrap of paper before him. the cloud upon his brow seemed to intensify, his face became more cruel. the mr. naylor of streatham, patriot, philanthropist and good citizen, had vanished, giving place to a man in whose heart was anger and fear. at the end of five minutes he drew towards him a small metal tray. taking a match from a stand, he struck it and deliberately setting light to the paper, held it while it burned. when the flame seared his fingers, he placed the whole upon the metal dish, scowling at the paper as it writhed and crackled in its death agony. he then proceeded to burn the envelope. when both were reduced to twisted shapes of carbon, he opened a drawer, took from it a duster and pressed it down upon the metal plate, reducing the contents to black powder. picking up the tray he carried it over to the grate, emptied the powder into the fireplace, wiped the tray and replaced it upon the table, thrusting the duster back into the drawer. he then sank once more into his chair, conscious that the morning had begun ill. ten minutes later he rose, unlocked the door and went out into the hall. he took his hat from the stand and brushed it carefully. picking up his gloves and umbrella, he gave a final look round, then composing his features for the outside world, he opened the door and passed out into apthorpe road. for such of his neighbours as he encountered he had a cheery word, a lifting of his hat, or a wave of the hand. housewives would sigh enviously as they saw mr. naylor pass genially on his way. he was always the same, they told themselves, remembering with a little pang the vagaries of their own husbands. before his return to "the cedars" for lunch, mr. naylor with unaccustomed emphasis foretold the doom of the government unless it immediately rushed a measure through parliament for the internment of all aliens. he was nothing if not thorough. chapter vii mr. naylor receives a visitor i "height five feet six and a half inches." "five feet eight, sir." "chest thirty-eight." "thirty-eight and a half, sir." "weight eleven stone nine." "twelve stone, sir." "near enough." "yes, sir," replied thompson. "you've got everything?" "down to his under-wear, sir," was the response. "the ring?" "yes, sir." malcolm sage looked up from the buff-coloured paper before him, then picking up a photograph from the table, proceeded to study it with great intentness. "yes," he said, "finlay can do it." at that moment colonel walton strode into the room, smoking the inevitable cigar. thompson straightened himself to attention, malcolm sage nodded, then once more became absorbed in the photograph. "i hear finlay's here," said colonel walton. sage looked up and nodded. "we've just been checking his measurements," he said. "with that bergen fellow's?" sage nodded. "it's a considerable risk," said colonel walton. "finlay likes 'em," retorted sage without looking up. "i'd give a good deal to solve that little mystery." the mystery to which malcolm sage referred was the arrest of a man on a bergen-hull boat some ten days previously. although his passport and papers were in order, his story when he had been interrogated was not altogether satisfactory. it had been decided to deport him; but malcolm sage, who had subjected him to a lengthy cross-examination, had decided that it would be better to detain him for the time being, and the suspect was consequently lodged in the tower. both malcolm sage and colonel walton were convinced that he had been sent over on a special mission. "where's finlay?" asked colonel walton. "he's painting the lily," said sage with a glint in his eye. "in other words?" enquired colonel walton. "seeing how near he can get to this bergen fellow. i took him down to the tower to see the men together." colonel walton nodded. malcolm sage regarded disguise as exclusively the asset of the detective of fiction. a disguise, he maintained, could always be identified, although not necessarily penetrated. few men could disguise their walk or bearing, no matter how clever they might be with the aid of false beards and wigs. "you remember the lost code-book?" sage queried. "i do," said colonel walton. "a remarkable piece of work of finlay's," continued sage. "it wasn't a disguise, it was an alteration; trim of moustache, cut and colour of hair, darkened skin and such trifles." "and the black eye, sir," interpolated thompson. "that was certainly a happy stroke," cried colonel walton. "it takes a good deal of moral courage to black your own eye," said sage quietly. "i tried it once myself." "how do you plan to proceed?" it was colonel walton who spoke. "if naylor is really the man we're after and this bergen fellow is on a secret mission, then it's pretty sure they were intended to get into touch." sage paused for a moment, then added: "anyhow, it's worth trying. it's a risk, of course. naylor may have met him before." "the risk will be mainly finlay's," said colonel walton drily, as he smoked meditatively. "it would be yours or mine, chief, only nature cast us in a different mould." for some moments colonel walton did not reply. "i don't like sending a man on a----" he paused. "there's no question of sending finlay; it's more a matter of holding him back. by the way," he continued casually, "thompson burgled john dene's place last night, got a set of plans, the chit signed by sir lyster and the skipper, and one or two other papers that should be useful." "i don't quite like it, sage." colonel walton knitted his brows. "it's giving the yard something to do," was sage's indifferent retort. "they're buzzing about john dene like flies to-day. he's expressing himself to them in choice canadian too, so thompson tells me." thompson gave an appreciative grin. "i dropped in there this morning, sir, and----" he did not conclude his sentence; but his look was one of keen appreciation. "he's got some words, has inspector bluggers," he added, "but mr. dene left him standing." "we've just been going over the points of finlay and the bergen man," explained sage. "they're pretty well in agreement. personally i believe there's a lot in that ring. we stripped the other fellow of his clothes, finlay insisted on having them baked. fussy sort of chap in things like that," he added, "but that ring. men don't generally wear turquoises set in an eccentric pattern. ha!" he looked up suddenly. colonel walton looked across at him interrogatingly. "you remember the initials inside, chief?" colonel walton nodded. "d.u.a. weren't they?" "what about deutsches über alles?" "a bit obvious," suggested colonel walton. "the hun always is." there was a knock at the door. "come in," called colonel walton. a moment later there entered a man of foreign appearance, with dark well-brushed hair, sallow skin and the deprecating manner of one who is in a country where he is not quite sure either of the customs or of the language. for a moment he stood smiling. malcolm sage caught colonel walton's eye. upon thompson's face there spread a grin of admiration. "wonderful, finlay," said colonel walton. "wonderful." "you think it is like?" enquired he who had been addressed as finlay. "wonderful," repeated colonel walton, "but," he added a moment after, "it's a dangerous game." finlay shrugged his shoulders in a manner that was almost aggressively un-english. he possessed one remarkable characteristic, once he had assumed a personality, he continued to be that man until he finally relinquished the part. "he'll put you to sleep if you make a mistake," said sage with uncompromising candour. again the shrug of the shoulders. "that ring," said sage, pointing to a flat gold band on the third finger of the left hand in which were set three turquoises in the form of a triangle. "what do you make of the inscription?" "i do not know," said finlay with the finnicking inflection of one talking in a strange tongue. "what about deutsches über alles?" suggested walton. "ah! you have discovered." "perfect," said sage, "absolutely perfect. you're a genius, finlay." with a smile and a half-shrug of his shoulders, finlay deprecated the compliment. "where are you going to stay?" enquired colonel walton. "at the ritzton with john dene, same floor if possible," said sage. "he starts from the tower to-morrow. released, you know." colonel walton nodded. "by the way, thompson, you didn't happen to drop any finger prints about in waterloo place?" "rubber gloves, sir," said thompson with a smile. malcolm sage nodded. "it would embarrass us a bit if you got lodged in brixton prison," said colonel walton. "no chance of that, sir," was the confident retort. "the account will be in the papers this afternoon, i understand." malcolm sage nodded. "well, finlay," said walton, "off you go and the best of luck. if you bring this off you ought to get a c.b.e." "gott in himmel!" cried finlay in such tragic consternation, that both colonel walton and sage were forced to smile. "no, sir," said sage drily, "we must guard department z. against the order of the british empire; it deserves well of the country. "when does he go to streatham?" enquired colonel walton. "i go now," responded finlay, "if i find the place. these suburbs!" he rolled his eyes expressively. malcolm sage smiled grimly. ii for some time mr. naylor had sat staring in front of him, immobile but for the movement of his eyes and the compression of his pouch-like lips as he swallowed. irritation or anxiety always caused him to swallow with a noisy gulp-like sound. since lunch he had scowled impartially upon everything. mrs. naylor, susan, james, the paper, his food, all seemed to come under the ban of his displeasure. from time to time he muttered under his breath. he made several efforts to concentrate upon the newspaper before him, but without success. his eyes would wander from the page and scowl into vacancy. the heavy jowls seemed to mould his face into a brutal square, which with his persistent swallowing gave him the appearance of a toad. his original anger at the threatened advent of a visitor seemed to have changed into irritation at his non-arrival. from time to time he looked at his watch. a step echoing in the street brought him to a listening attitude. when at last a ring sounded at the bell, followed by a peremptory "rat-tat," he started violently. he listened intently to the pad of mrs. naylor's footsteps along the passage, to the murmur of voices that followed, and the sound of steps approaching. when the door opened, the scowl had fled from mr. naylor's features, the jowls had lifted, the set frown had passed from his brows. his mouth was pursed up into a smile only one degree less repellent than the look that it had replaced. mr. naylor had assumed his best public-meeting manner. "mr. van helder?" he queried, as he shook hands and motioned his visitor to a seat. "we shall not be overheard, no?" interrogated van helder. mr. naylor shook his head, transferring his eyes from a paper-weight before him to his visitor's face and back again to the paper-weight. "these london suburbs!" exclaimed van helder, as he drew a silk handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to wipe his face. "i seem to have pursued you to everywhere. i crossed from bergen on the st," he added with a smile. "the st," repeated mr. naylor. "just ten days ago," continued van helder. "i came not before because----" he raised his eyes suddenly and looked straight at mr. naylor, who smiled; but there was guile behind the momentary exposure of his yellow teeth. "the crossing," continued van helder, "three times the alarm of u-boats." he smiled a crafty little smile. "the germans they make the sea unsafe." again he smiled. "so you have been in london since the st." mr. naylor's tone was casual; but his eyes glinted. van helder nodded indifferently. "where are you staying?" mr. naylor's eyes never left his visitor's face. "at the ritzton." "you have been comfortable?" the tone was conversational. again van helder shrugged his shoulders. "you have been seeing the sights?" again the tone was casual; but in mr. naylor's eyes there was a crafty look. "it is as i have been told," said van helder with a smile. "always cautious. you are fond of dogs," he added irrelevantly, "i heard one." "james does not like strangers." this with a sinister smile. "no?" continued the other; taking a cigarette-case from his pocket and offering it to mr. naylor who declined. "i may smoke?" mr. naylor nodded. van helder lighted a cigarette and proceeded to blow smoke rings with quiet content. he wanted to think. it was obvious to him that something was wrong, something lacking. there was the suggestion in his host's manner of a cat watching a mouse, watching and waiting. "you are becoming, how do you call it, ungeschickt," he said with a disarming smile, as he blew three rings in rapid succession. "you think so?" mr. naylor smiled amiably. "yes, how do you call it, awkward, clumsy. you have lived long in england," he continued a little contemptuously, as he ejected more smoke-rings. "you find london interesting?" asked mr. naylor, with ominous calm. he was determined to pick up the thread of conversation that had been snatched from his hand. "you are a fool." van helder turned just as he emitted a smoke-ring. at the calm insolence of his tone mr. naylor started slightly, but quickly recovered himself. "what do you mean?" "i have been in the tower." for the fraction of a second van helder's eyes sought those of mr. naylor. was it relief that he saw? the change was only momentary, just a flash. van helder continued to blow smoke-rings as if entirely indifferent alike to his host's presence and emotions. "i was released yesterday morning. they apologised for my detention." "and you came here?" f mr. naylor's voice was even and devoid of inflection. deliberately van helder took from his pocket a gold ring set with three turquoises in the form of a triangle. it was his last card. "ah! i see you look at my ring," he said, seeing mr. naylor's eyes fix greedily upon it. "it was given to me by one whom i serve." deliberately he drew it from his finger again and handed it to mr. naylor, who took it casually and proceeded to examine it. the other watched him closely. yes; he was looking at the inscription on the inside. "they are not my initials," said van helder. mr. naylor looked up quickly. "no," he said, returning the ring. the other shrugged his shoulders without replying. mr. naylor's manner had undergone a change. "and now about john dene. ah!" as one smoke-ring passed through another. "john dene!" "yes, of toronto," continued van helder, smiling and continuing to blow rings with apparent enjoyment. "he is staying at the ritzton, too." "london is full of visitors." "my friend, we waste time. there is such a thing as over-caution. as i say you are ungeschickt. there was that affair of john dene's lunch. such things will not please those----" he shrugged his shoulders. for fully a minute naylor gazed at him quietly, searchingly. "there was then the chocolates and the girl." "i do not understand." mr. naylor looked across at him craftily. "we waste time, i know. i will tell you. the secretary, you make your woman offer her chocolates at a tea-shop, and to go for a ride in a taxi. the chocolates----" he shrugged his shoulders expressively. "she refuses. you are clumsy." the contemptuous insolence of his visitor seemed to impress mr. naylor. the look of suspicion in his eyes became less marked. "how did you know?" he asked, still wary. "we waste time," was the response with a wave of the hand. for a few moments mr. naylor sat watching van helder as he continued to blow rings with manifest content. "listen," continued van helder. "john dene has brought over here an invention, a submarine that is to end the war. he has given it to the admiralty." "given it!" involuntarily repeated mr. naylor. "given it. there are patriots even in england. you think he is trying to sell it, therefore you try to remove him." "not selling it." mr. naylor leaned slightly forward. "he gives it on condition that he commands it with his own men. it makes easy the matter." "then it is true what----" mr. naylor stopped. "how did you learn this?" he slobbered his words slightly as he spoke. "i know things, it is my duty," was the response. "but what proof----?" with great deliberation van helder drew from his pocket a large envelope; extracting a single sheet of paper he handed it across the table. mr. naylor snatched it eagerly and proceeded to devour it with his eyes. "i also got a set of plans of a submarine; but it was one of our own. he is clever, this man." "how did you get it?" van helder smiled. "how did you get the copy?" he enquired. "the copy! how did you know?" mr. naylor stared at him, his jaw a little dropped. he swallowed noisily. "you have been clumsy," repeated van helder. "you try to kill the cock that lays the eggs of gold." he shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. mr. naylor flushed angrily. "and you?" he almost snarled. "i am here to watch." he looked across at mr. naylor with a cunning smile. he was at last sure of his ground. "watch who?" van helder shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded to light a new cigarette from the burning end of the old one. "you must not kill--yet," he said, gazing at the end of his cigarette to see that it was well alight. "what then?" demanded mr. naylor. his jowls had returned and the yellow of his teeth was visible between his slightly parted lips. "wait and watch," was the reply. "and let him go north," sneered the other. "if you kill, where are the plans? do as you would," he continued indifferently. "there will be the day for you, too. now i go." he made a movement to rise; but mr. naylor motioned him back into his chair. two hours later mr. naylor himself let out his visitor. closing the front door, he returned to his study, where for an hour he sat at his table gazing straight in front of him. mr. naylor was puzzled. conscious that he was being followed by a small man in a grey suit with shifty eyes, james finlay made his way leisurely to the high road where he took a 'bus bound for piccadilly circus. chapter viii dorothy west at home "mother mine," cried dorothy west, as she withdrew the pins from her hat, "john dene's a dear, and i think his passion for me is developing." "dorothy!" cried mrs. west, a tiny white-haired lady whose face still retained traces of youthful beauty. "you needn't be shocked, lovie; john dene is as worthy as his namesake in _evangeline_." she laughed lightly. "now i must eat. john dene's like sea air, he's so stimulating;" and she began to eat the dinner that mrs. west always prepared with such care. for some minutes she watched with a smile of approval her daughter's healthy appetite. "i think i should like mr. dene, dorothy," she said at length. "i have always heard that canadians are very nice to women. you must ask him to call." "oh, you funny little mother!" she laughed. "you forget that we have come down in the world, and that i'm a typist." "a secretary, dear," corrected mrs. west gently. "well, secretary, then; but even a secretary doesn't invite her employer to tea, even when the tea is as mother makes it. it's not done, so the less that's said of john, i think, the better," she quoted gaily. "oh! by the way," she added, "you might get his goat; sir lyster does." "his goat, dear!" mrs. west looked up with a puzzled expression. dorothy explained the allusion. she went on to tell of some of the doings of john dene, his impatience, his indifference to and contempt for constituted authority. in short she added a few vivid side-lights to the picture she had already given her mother of how john dene had come and carried all before him. "i think," she said in conclusion, screwing up her pretty features, "that john dene is rather a dear." then after a pause she added, "you see, he is also a man." "a man, my dear," questioned mrs. west, looking at her daughter with a smile. "yes, mother, he's so intensely masculine. i get so fed up with----" "dorothy!" expostulated mrs. west. "yes, i know it's trying, mother, but i get so weary of the subaltern and junior naval officer. of course they're splendid and brave; but they don't seem men." "but think of how they have given their lives," began mrs. west. "yes; but we see those who haven't, mother, and very few of them have chevrons on their sleeves. now john dene is quite different. he always seems to be a man; yet he never forgets that you are a woman, although he never appears to be conscious of your being a woman." dorothy caught her mother's eye, and laughed. "of course it sounds utterly ridiculous i know; but there it is, and then think of what----" she suddenly broke off. "yes, dear," said mrs. west gently. "i was nearly letting out official secrets, mother. of course i mustn't do that, must i?" "of course not, dear," said mrs. west. "yes," continued dorothy, her head on one side, "i like john dene. it must be ripping to be able to bully a first lord of the admiralty," she added irrelevantly. "bully a first lord," said mrs. west. mrs. west seemed to be in a perpetual state of repeating in a bewildered manner her daughter's startling statements. "he doesn't care for anybody. he calls mr. blair, that's sir lyster's secretary, the prize seal, and i'm sure he takes a delight in frightening the poor man. that's the best of being a canadian, you see you don't care a damn----" "dorothy!" there was horror in mrs. west's voice. "i'm so sorry, mother dear; but it slipped out, you know, and really it's such an awfully convenient word, isn't it? it's so different from not caring a bother, or not caring a blow. anyway, when you're a canadian you don't care a--well you know, for anybody. if a man happens to be a lord or a duke, you're rude to him just to show that you're as good as he is. sometimes, mother, i wish i were a canadian," said dorothy pensively. "i should so like to 'ginger-up' sir lyster." "your language, my dear," said mrs. west gently. "oh, that's john dene," said dorothy airily. "that's his favourite expression, 'ginger-up.' he came over here to 'ginger-up' the admiralty, and in fact 'ginger-up' anybody who didn't very strongly object to being 'gingered-up,' and those who did, well he gingers them up just the same. you should see poor mr. blair under the process." dorothy laughed as she thought of mr. blair's sufferings. "the girls call him 'oh, reginald!' and he looks it," she added. mrs. west smiled vaguely, finding it a little difficult to follow her daughter along these paths of ultra-modernism. "you see, if sir lyster says to me 'go,' i have to go," continued dorothy, "and if he says to me 'come,' i have to come; but if he says to john dene 'go,' he just says 'shucks.'" "says what, dorothy?" "shucks!" she repeated with a laugh, "it means go to--well, you know, mother." "and does he say that to sir lyster?" enquired mrs. west in awe-struck voice. dorothy nodded vigorously. "the only one that seems to understand him is sir bridgman north, and he never stands on his dignity, you know. if i were in the navy," said dorothy meditatively, "i should like to be under sir bridgman, he's really rather a dear." "but why do----" began mrs. west, "why does sir lyster allow----" "allow," broke in dorothy. "it doesn't matter what you allow with john dene. if you agree with him he just grunts; if you don't he says 'shucks,' or else he questions whether you've got any head-filling." "any what?" asked mrs. west. "head-filling, that means brains. oh, you've got an awful lot to learn," she added, nodding at her mother in mock despair. "i think john dene very clever," she added. "dorothy, you mustn't call him 'john dene." "he's always called 'john dene,'" said dorothy. "you can't think of him as anything but john dene, and do you know, mother, all the other girls are so intrigued. they're always asking me how i get on with 'the bear,' as they call him. that's because he doesn't take any notice of them, except marjorie rogers, and she's as cheeky as a robin." "but he isn't a bear, is he, dorothy?" "a bear? he's the most polite creature that ever existed," said dorothy--"when he remembers it," she added after a moment's pause. "you see they all expect me to marry him." "dorothy!" "i'm not so sure that they're wrong, either," she added naïvely. "you see, he's got plenty of money and----" "i don't like to hear you talk like that, dear," said mrs. west gravely. "oh, i'm horrid, aren't i?" she cried, running over to her mother and putting her arm round her neck. "what a dreadful thing it must be for you, poor mother mine, to have such a daughter! she outrages all the dear old victorian conventions, doesn't she?" "you mustn't talk like that, dorothy dear," said mrs. west. there was in her voice that which told her daughter she was in earnest. "all right, mother dear, i won't; you know my bark is worse than my bite, don't you?" "yes, but dear----" "you see, way down, as john dene would say, in his own heart there is chivalry, and that is very, very rare nowadays among men. he is much nicer to me than he would be to lady grayne, or mrs. llewellyn john, or to the queen herself, i believe. i'm sure he likes me," added dorothy half to herself. "you see," she added, "he broke my teapot, and he owes me something for that, doesn't he?" "dorothy, you are very naughty." there was no rebuke in mrs. west's voice. "and you're wondering how it came about that such a dear, sweet, conventional, lovely, victorian symbol of respectability and convention should have had such a dreadfully outrageous daughter as dorothy west. now confess, mother, aren't you?" mrs. west merely smiled the indulgent smile that dorothy always interpreted into forgiveness for her lapses, past, present and to come. "you see, mother, john dene has got it into his head that we're hopelessly out of date," she said. "he's quite sincere. he thinks we're fools, sir lyster, sir bridgman and the whole lot of us, and as for poor mr. blair, he knows he's a fool. he thinks that mr. llewellyn john is almost a fool, in fact he's sure in his own mind that unless you happen to be born a canadian you're a fool and can't help it. he's quite nice about it, because it really isn't your fault." "i'm afraid he must be very narrow-minded," said mrs. west gently. "no, he isn't, that's where it's so funny, it's just his idea. he looks upon himself as a heaven-sent corrective to the british government. i'm afraid poor john dene is going to have a nasty jar before he's through, as he would say himself." "how do you mean, dorothy?" enquired mrs. west. "i mustn't say any more, because i should be divulging official secrets. the other girls are so curious to know what is happening. bishy, that's miss bishcroft, asked me whether john dene made love to me, and rojjie is sure that he kisses me." dorothy rippled off into laughter. "how impertinent of her!" mrs. west was shocked. "it wasn't impertinence, mother, it was funny. if you could only see john dene, and imagine him making love to anyone. it really is funny. sometimes i sit and wonder if he knows how to kiss a girl." "dorothy, you are----" began mrs. west. "why shouldn't we be frank and open about such matters? every man kisses a girl at some time during his life, except john dene," she added. "in whitehall it's nothing but minutes and kisses. why shouldn't we talk about it? it's helping to win the war. it's so silly to hide everything in that silly victorian way of ours. if a nice girl meets a nice man she wants him to kiss her, and she's disappointed if he doesn't. now isn't she?" challenged dorothy as she perched herself upon the arm of her mother's chair and looked down at her, her eyebrows and mouth screwed up, impertinent and provocative. "i wish you wouldn't talk like that, dear," said mrs. west, as she regarded her daughter's pretty features. "why, mother?" she enquired, bending and brushing a swift kiss upon her mother's white hair. "it--it doesn't seem----" she paused, then added rather weakly, "it doesn't seem quite nice." dorothy jumped up and stood before her mother, smiling mischievously. "and so you don't think i'm quite nice, mrs. west?" she made an elaborate curtsey. "thank you very much indeed. at the admiralty there are quite a lot of young men, and some old ones, too, who don't agree with you," she added, returning to her chair. "but you mustn't say such--such things," protested mrs. west weakly. "but, mother, when you were a girl and knew a nice man, didn't you want him to kiss you?" "we never thought about such things. we----" "didn't you want father to kiss you?" persisted dorothy. "we were engaged, my dear, and your dear father was so----" "but before you were engaged. suppose father had tried to kiss you. what would you have done?" the girl's eyes were on her mother, mischievous and challenging. a faint blush tinged mrs. west's cheeks. "i'll tell you what you'd have done, you dear, naughty little mother. you'd have pretended to be shocked, but in your heart you would have been glad, and you'd have lain awake all night thinking what an awful rip you had been." she nodded her head wisely. "sometimes," said mrs. west after a pause, "i wish it had not been necessary for you to work. girls seem so different nowadays from what they were when i was young." "we are, you dear little mouse," smiled dorothy. "we know a lot more, and to be forewarned is to be forearmed. i'm glad i didn't live when you had to faint at the sight of a mouse, or swoon when you were kissed. it would be such a waste," she added gaily. mrs. west sighed, conscious that a new age of womanhood had dawned with which she was out of touch. "mother," said dorothy presently, "what made you love father?" mrs. west looked up in surprise at her daughter, but continued to fold her napkin and place it in her ring before replying. "because your father, dorothy, was----" she hesitated. "my father," suggested dorothy. mrs. west smiled; but there was a far-away look in her eyes. "everybody loved your father," she went on a moment later. "yes, mother, but everybody didn't marry him," she said practically. "noooo----" hesitated mrs. west. "but you mean to say that everybody would have liked to marry him." "he was very wonderful," said mrs. west, a note of sadness creeping into her voice. "but you haven't answered my question," persisted dorothy. "why is it that we women love men?" mrs. west was not conscious of the quaint phrasing of her daughter's remark. "we don't love men, dorothy," she cried, "we love a man, the right man." "but," persisted dorothy, "why do we do it? they're not pretty and they're not very interesting," she emphasised the "very," "and only a few of them are clever. sometimes in the tube coming home i see a girl and a man holding hands. what is it that makes them want to hold hands?" "it's natural to fall in love," said mrs. west gently. "but that's not falling in love," protested dorothy scornfully. "if i fell in love with a man i shouldn't want to hold his hand in a train. i should hate him if he expected it." "it's a question of class," said mrs. west a little primly. "oh! mother, what an awful snob you are," cried dorothy, jumping up and going round and giving her mother a hug. "let's go into the drawing-room and be comfy and have a chat." when they were seated, mrs. west in an armchair and dorothy on a stool at her feet, the girl continued her interrogations. "now suppose," she continued, "i were to fall in love with a man who was ugly, ill-mannered, badly dressed, with very little to say for himself. why should i do it?" dorothy looked challengingly up at her mother. "but you wouldn't, dear," said mrs. west with gentle conviction. "oh, mother, you're awfully trying you know," she cried in mock despair. "you've got to suppose that i have, or could. why should i do it?" mrs. west gazed at her daughter a little anxiously, then shook her head. "now i can quite understand," went on dorothy, half to herself, "why a man should fall in love with me. i'm pretty and bright, wear nice things, particularly underneath----" "dorothy!" broke in mrs. west in a tone of shocked protest. she laughed. "oh, mother, you're a dreadful prude. why do you think girls wear pretty shoes and stockings, and low cut blouses as thin as a cobweb?" "hush! dorothy, you mustn't say such things." there was pain in mrs. west's voice. "i wish we could face facts," said dorothy with a sigh. "you see, mother dear," she continued, "when you're in a government office, with heaps of other girls and men about, you get to know things, see things, and sometimes you get to hate things." "i have always regretted," began mrs. west sadly. "you mustn't do that, mother dear," cried dorothy; "it has been an education. but what i want to know is, what is it in a man that attracts a girl?" "goodness, honour and----" began mrs. west. "no, it isn't," said dorothy, "at least they don't attract me." mrs. west looked pained but said nothing. "you see," continued dorothy, "there are such a lot of good men about, and honourable men, and--and--they're so dreadfully dull and monotonous. i couldn't marry that sort of man," she added with conviction. "but----" began mrs. west. "you wouldn't----" then she paused. "i can't explain it, mother," she said, "but i should hate to be doing the same thing always." "but we are doing the same things always, dorothy," said mrs. west. "oh! no we're not," protested dorothy. "i never know until i get home on saturday where i'm going to take you. now if i had a husband, a good and honourable husband, he would begin about thursday saying that on saturday afternoon we would go to hampstead, or to richmond, or to--oh! anywhere. then when saturday came i should hate the very name of the place he had chosen. then on sunday we should go to church in the morning, for a walk in the afternoon, pay a call or two, then church or a cinema in the evening. that's good and honourable married life," she concluded with decision. mrs. west looked down with a puzzled expression on her face. "wait a minute, mother," said dorothy. "now we'll imagine the real me married to a good and honourable man. at twelve-thirty on the saturday that he has arranged to lose himself and me at the maze at hampton court, i telephone to say that we're going to brighton, and that he's to meet me at victoria at half-past one, and i'll bring his things. now what do you think he'd do?" with head on one side she gazed challengingly at her mother. "i--i don't know," faltered mrs. west. "i do," said dorothy with conviction. "he'd have a fit. then if i wanted him to come for a 'bus ride just as he was going to bed," went on dorothy, "he'd have another fit; and if one fine morning, just as he was off to the office, i were to ask him not to go, but to take me to richmond instead, he'd have a third fit, and then i should be a widow." "a widow!" questioned mrs. west. "what are you talking about?" "third fits are always fatal, mother," she said wisely. then with a laugh she added, "oh, there's a great time in store for the man who marries dorothy west. he will have to have a strong heart, a robust constitution and above all any amount of stamina," and she gave a mischievous little chuckle of joy. then a moment after, looking gravely at her mother she said, "you must have been very wicked, lovie, or you'd never have had such a daughter to plague you. i'm your cross;" but mrs. west merely smiled. chapter ix department z. at work "naylor isn't satisfied then." colonel walton glanced across at malcolm sage, who was gazing appreciatively at his long, lender fingers. "he's the shyest bird i've ever come across," said sage without looking up. "he gave finlay a rare wigging for that call. now he's having him watched." "i expected that," said colonel walton, engrossed in cutting the end of a cigar. "i think it's jealousy," continued sage. "he's afraid of the special agent getting all the kudos--and the plunder," he added. "it was a happy chance getting that bergen chap." "i'm rather concerned about finlay," said colonel walton. "good man, finlay." there was a note of admiration in sage's voice. "he's quite cut adrift from us. he's nothing if not thorough. i can't get in touch with him." "of course he knows?" "that he's being watched? yes." "who's looking after him?" "hoyle." sage drew his pipe from his pocket and proceeded to charge it from a chamois-leather tobacco-pouch. "i've had to call thompson off, i think they linked him up with us." "that's a pity," said colonel walton, gazing at the end of his cigar. "he's a better man than hoyle." "it's that little chap they've got," continued sage, "lives at wimbledon, retired commercial-traveller, clever devil." malcolm sage never grudged praise to an opponent. "how about john dene?" "he's not taking any risks," said sage, as he applied a match to his pipe. "but they'll never let him go north." "then we must prevent him." "perhaps you'd like to take on that little job, chief." there was a momentary suspicion of a twinkle in sage's eye before a volume of tobacco smoke blotted it out. "i'm afraid it'll force our hand," said colonel walton. "that burglary business complicated things," said sage, as he sucked in his lips, with him a sign of annoyance. "it was a mistake to keep it dark." "that was sir lyster." "it made naylor suspicious." "has finlay seen him since?" enquired colonel walton. "naylor must have given him the secret-code. they've met several times; but i believe naylor is determined to act on his own. he's a weird creature. i wish i could get in touch with finlay, however." "why not try the taxi?" "i've had rogers following him round all the time; but finlay hasn't once taken a taxi." "i'm afraid he's taking a big risk----" began colonel walton. "that naylor fellow----" he paused. sage nodded. during the previous ten days department z. had learned a great deal about the comings and goings of mr. montagu naylor of streatham. it had become manifest to sage that he had to do with a man who had reduced cunning and caution to a fine art. his every act seemed to have been carefully thought out beforehand, not only in relation to himself, but to what might grow directly out of it. during a walk he would sometimes turn suddenly and proceed swiftly in the direction from which he had come, as if he had forgotten something, looking keenly at every one he passed. at others he would step into a shop, where he could be seen keeping a careful watch through the window. a favourite trick was to walk briskly round a corner, then stop and look in some shop window with a small mirror held in the palm of his hand. from the first malcolm sage had realised that the conventional methods of shadowing a suspect would be useless for his purpose. those in whom department z. were interested would be old hands at the game, and to set a single person to watch them would inevitably result in the discovery of what was afoot. he therefore set at least three men, or women, to dog the footsteps of the suspect. these would follow each other at intervals of from twenty-five to a hundred yards, according to the district in which they were operating. at a signal that the first in the line was dropping out, the trail would be taken up by number two, who in turn would relinquish the work to number three. sometimes as many as six were allocated to one shadowing. this method had the additional advantage of enabling the department to assure itself that the watchers were not in turn being watched. it was no uncommon thing for a suspect to arrange to have himself shadowed in order to ascertain whether or no there were any one on his track. this was a favourite device with mr. naylor. for nearly two years department z. had been endeavouring to solve the problem of a secret organisation, with the offshots of which they were constantly coming into contact. the method this organisation adopted was one of concentration upon a single object. at one time it would be at the sailing of vessels from home ports, at another the munitions output, or again the anti-aircraft defences of london. malcolm sage was convinced that somewhere there was at work a controlling mind, one that weighed every risk and was prepared for all eventualities. individuals had been shadowed, some had been arrested, much to sage's disgust. the efforts of the organisation had frequently been countered and its objects defeated; but department z. had hitherto been unable to penetrate beyond the outer fringe. the most remarkable thing of all was that no document of any description had been discovered, either on the person of those arrested, or through the medium of the post. scotland yard stoutly denied the existence of the organisation. they claimed to have made a clean sweep of all secret service agents in their big round-up on the outbreak of war. whatever remained were a few small fry that had managed to slip through the meshes of their net. malcolm sage merely shrugged his shoulders and worked the harder. when it had been discovered that the famous norvelt aeroplane, which was to give the allies the supremacy of the air, had been copied by the germans, the war cabinet regarded the matter as one of the gravest setbacks the allied cause had received. mr. llewellyn john had openly reproached colonel walton with failure. again when time after time a certain north sea convoy was attacked, the authorities knew that it could be only as a result of information having leaked out to the enemy. a raid into the bight of heligoland had been met in a way that convinced those who had planned it that the enemy had been warned, although the utmost secrecy had been observed. all these things had tended to cause the war cabinet uneasiness, and department z. had been urged to redouble its efforts to find out the means by which information was conveyed to the enemy. "we must watch and wait, just hang about on the outer fringe. when we find the thread it will lead to the centre of things," sage had remarked philosophically. in the meantime he worked untiringly, keeping always at the back of his mind the problem of this secret organisation. day by day the record of mr. montagu naylor's activities enlarged. with him caution seemed to have become an obsession. as malcolm sage went through the daily reports of his agents he was puzzled to account for many of mr. naylor's actions other than by the fact that circumlocution had become with him a habit. among other things that came to light was mr. naylor's fondness for open spaces, and the frequency with which he got into conversation with strangers. he would wander casually into kew gardens, or waterlow park, or in fact anywhere, seat himself somewhere on a bench, and before he had been there ten minutes, someone would inevitably select the same bench on which to rest himself or herself, with the result that they would soon drift into desultory conversation with mr. naylor. the same thing would happen at a restaurant at which mr. naylor might be lunching, dining or taking tea. with strangers his manner seemed irresistible. it would sometimes happen that he would keep one of the telephone appointments, pass through the thoroughfare indicated, and proceed either to a park or a tea-shop, where later he would find himself in casual conversation with someone who, curiously enough, had been in that particular thoroughfare when he passed through it. for some time malcolm sage was greatly puzzled by the fact that even when the name of a long thoroughfare were indicated in one of the telephone messages, such as oxford street, marylebone road, or even the fulham road, mr. naylor never experienced any difficulty in locating the whereabouts of his subordinate. sage gave instructions for the exact position of each thoroughfare to be indicated. as a result he discovered that contact was always established in the neighbourhood of the building numbered . "it's the german mind," remarked sage one day to colonel walton. "it leaves nothing to chance, or to the intelligence of the other fellow." as each one of mr. naylor's associates was located, he or she was continuously shadowed. in consequence the strain upon the resources of department z. became increasingly severe. it was like an army advancing into an enemy country, and having to furnish the lines of communication from its striking force. sometimes sage himself was engaged in the shadowing, and once or twice even colonel walton. "by the time we've finished, there won't be even the office cat left," thompson one day remarked to gladys norman, a typist whom malcolm sage had picked out of one of the departments through which he had passed during his non-stop career. she had already shown marked ability by her cleverness and resource, to say nothing of her impudence. "never mind, tommy," she had replied. "it's all experience, and after the war, when i marry you and we start our private inquiry bureau----" she nodded her head knowingly. "why, i've got enough facts from my own department to divorce half the officers on the staff," she added. the work of shadowing mr. naylor was not without its humours. sometimes department z. was led away on false scents. on one occasion a week was spent in tracking a venerable-looking old gentleman, he turned out to be a quite respectable pensioned civil servant, who, out of the kindness of his own heart, had passed the time of day with mr. naylor. the plan decided upon by colonel walton and malcolm sage was carefully to watch all mr. naylor's associates and, at a given time, make a clean sweep of the lot. to achieve this effect a zero hour was to be established on a certain day. each was to be arrested as soon after that time as it was possible. this was mainly due to malcolm sage's suspicion that some scheme of warning existed between the various members of the combination, whereby any danger threatening one was quickly notified to all the others. "in all probability we shall get a few harmless birds into the net," malcolm sage had remarked. "probably the sister of an m.p., or the head of a department in one of the new ministries; but that can't be helped." "still i should prefer that it didn't happen," colonel walton had said drily. "you know the skipper hates questions in the house." "by the way," said malcolm sage to colonel walton one day, "thompson sent in an interesting report this morning." "naylor?" queried colonel walton. malcolm sage nodded. "he's having a sort of small greenhouse arrangement fitted in the window of the front-room of the basement. it may be for flowers or for salad." "or----?" interrogated colonel walton. malcolm sage merely shrugged his shoulders as he proceeded to dig the ashes out of his pipe. the work of department z. continued quietly and unostentatiously. john dene was never permitted out of sight, except when in some private place. this meant the constant changing of those responsible for keeping him under observation. the necessity of this was not more evident to department z. than to john dene himself. in spite of his scornful manner, he was not lacking in caution, as soon became obvious to malcolm sage. at the hotel he was careful, taking neither food nor drink in his room. he never dined two consecutive nights at the same restaurant, and he consistently refused all overtures from strangers. it soon became evident to malcolm sage that john dene realised how great was the danger by which he was threatened. the ransacking of his room at the ritzton left john dene indifferent. the fact that he never locked the small safe he kept at his office at waterloo place was not without its significance for malcolm sage. in the course of the next few weeks malcolm sage learned a great deal about john dene of toronto. although proof against the wiles of confidence men, always on the look-out for the colonials, he fell an easy victim to the plausible beggar. he never refused a request for assistance, and the record of his unostentatious charities formed a no inconsiderable portion of the rapidly increasing dossier at department z. many were the incidents recorded of john dene's kindness of heart. a child smiling up into his eyes would cause him to stop, bend down and ask its name, or where it lived. whilst the little one was sucking an embarrassed finger john dene would be feeling in his pocket for a coin that a moment later would cause the youngster to gaze after him in speechless wonder, clutching in his grimy hand a shilling or a half-a-crown. once he was observed leading a tearful little girl of about five years old up the haymarket. the child had apparently become lost, and john dene was seeking a policeman into whose care to consign her. it became obvious to malcolm sage that john dene's weak points were children and "lame dogs." thompson, who first had charge of the guarding of john dene, reported that one of the most assiduous of those who seemed to interest themselves in the movements of the canadian, was a little man in a grey suit, with a pair of shifty eyes that never remained for more than a second on any one object. "he's clever, sir," thompson had remarked to sage, "clever as a vanload of monkeys, and he takes cover like an alien," he added grinning, at his own joke. "has he linked up with naylor yet?" thompson shook his head. "the old bird's too crafty for that, sir," he said. "he only comes up against the small fry. this little chap in the grey suit is something bigger." the officials at department z. soon discovered that the chiefs of the organisation, against which they were working, never came into contact with each other. communication was established verbally by subordinates. another thing that added to the difficulties of sage's task was that a man, who had for some days been particularly active, would suddenly drop out, apparently being superseded by someone else with whom he had not previously been in contact. later, the man who had dropped out would pick up an entirely different thread. this meant innumerable loose ends, all of which had to be followed up and then held until they began to develop along new lines. "it's a great game played slow, gladys," thompson remarked one day to gladys norman as they sat waiting for malcolm sage. "slow," cried the girl. "if this is slow, what's fast?" "her initials are g. n.," was the reply. malcolm sage entered at the moment when gladys had succeeded in making her colleague's hair look like that of an australian aborigine. chapter x john dene goes to kew "and now we'll go to kew and say how-do-you-do to the rhododendrons," cried dorothy, as she rolled up her napkin and slipped it into the silver ring that lay beside her plate. "i'll go and make myself smart; and mother"--she paused at the door--"mind you put on your new hat that makes you look so wicked." mrs. west smiled what dorothy called her "saturday afternoon smile." half an hour later dorothy was gazing at herself in the looking-glass over the dining-room mantelpiece. with a sigh half of content, half of rebelliousness she turned as mrs. west entered. for a moment she stood looking enquiringly at her daughter. "shall i do?" she demanded impudently. "i've put on my very best, undies and all." "but why, dorothy?" began mrs. west. "oh, i just wanted to feel best to-day. i wonder if john dene notices legs, mother," she added inconsequently. "really, dorothy!" began mrs. west, with widening eyes. "well, i've got rather nice legs, and--oh! but i'm sure he doesn't. we had fillets of sole done up in a most wonderful way the other day, and he asked if it was cod. he's got cod on the brain, poor dear." with a sigh she turned once more to regard herself in the looking-glass. "if he could see me in this hat, it would be all 'u.p.' with honest john;" and she laughed wickedly as she caught her mother's eye. "i wish you wouldn't use such expressions," protested mrs. west gently, "and--and----" she stopped and looked appealingly at her daughter. "i know i'm a horrid little beast," she cried, turning quickly, "and i say outrageous things, don't i?" then with a sudden change of mood she added: "but why shouldn't a girl be pleased because she's got nice legs, mother?" "it's not nice for a young girl to talk about legs," said mrs. west a little primly, making the slightest possible pause before the last words. "but why, mother?" persisted dorothy. "it's--it's not quite nice." "well, mine are, anyway," said dorothy with a little grimace. "now we must be off." mrs. west merely sighed, the sigh of one who fails to understand. "mother dear," said dorothy, observing the sigh, "if i didn't laugh i'm afraid i should cry." all the brightness had left her as she looked down at her mother. "i wonder why it is?" she added musingly. to mrs. west, saturday afternoons were the oases in her desert of loneliness. during the long and solitary days of the week, she looked forward with the eagerness of a child to the excursions dorothy never failed to plan for her entertainment. if it were dull or wet, there would be a matinee or the pictures; if fine they would go to kew, richmond, or the zoo. it was an understood thing that mrs. west should know nothing about the arrangement until the actual day itself. "i think," remarked dorothy, as they walked across kew bridge, "that i must be looking rather nice to-day. that's the third man who has given me the glad-eye since----" "oh, dorothy! i wish you wouldn't say such dreadful things," protested mrs. west in genuine distress. slipping her arm through her mother's, the girl squeezed it to her side. "i know i'm an outrageous little beast," she said, "but i love shocking you, you dear, funny little mother, and--and you know i love you, don't you?" "but suppose anyone heard you, dear, what would they think?" there was genuine concern in mrs. west's voice. "oh, i'm dreadfully respectable with other people. i never talk to john dene about legs or glad-eyes, really." her eyes were dancing with mischief as she looked down at her mother. "now i'll promise to be good for the rest of the day; but how can a girl say prunes and prisms with a mouth like mine. it's too wide for that, and then there are those funny little cuts at the corners; they are what make me wicked," she announced with a wise little nod. mrs. west sighed once more; she had learned that it was useless to protest when her daughter was in her present mood. they entered the gardens, and for an hour walked about absorbing their atmosphere of peace and warmth, sunlight and shadow and the song of birds; the war seemed very far away. presently they seated themselves by the broad walk leading to the large tropical greenhouse, and gazed idly at the stream of passers-by. "i wish i were a girl bird," said dorothy dreamily, as she listened to the outpourings of a blackbird fluting from a neighbouring tree. mrs. west smiled. she was very happy. "it would be lovely to be made love to like that," continued dorothy, "so much nicer than---- mother, darling, look!" she broke off suddenly, clutching mrs. west's arm. "there's john dene." following the direction of her daughter's eyes, mrs. west saw a rather thick-set man with hunched-up shoulders, looking straight in front of him, a cigar gripped aggressively between his teeth. he was walking in the direction that would bring him within a few feet of the seat on which they sat. "he'll never see us," whispered dorothy excitedly. "he never sees anything, not even a joke. oh! i wish he would," she added. "i should so like you to meet him." mrs. west did not speak; she was gazing with interest at the approaching figure. "mother dear, do you think you could faint?" dorothy's eyes were shining with excitement. "faint!" echoed mrs. west. "yes, then i could call for help and john dene would come, and you would get to know him. i'm sure he'll never see us." "hush, dear, he might hear what you are saying," said mrs. west. when john dene was within a few feet of them, dorothy's sunshade fell forward, seeming to bring him back with a start to his surroundings. instinctively he stepped forward, picked up the sunshade and lifting his hat handed it to dorothy. for a moment there was a puzzled expression in his eyes, followed instantly by one of recognition; and then john dene smiled, and mrs. west liked him. "you see, i found my way," he said to dorothy when she had introduced him to her mother, and for some reason she blushed. "we often come here," said dorothy lamely, conscious that her mother's eyes were upon her. "it's fine. i've just been looking around," he remarked, as he took a seat beside mrs. west. "we haven't anything like this in can'da," he added generously. "i suppose you have parks, though," said mrs. west conversationally. "sure," he replied; "but this is way beyond anything we've got." "you don't think it wants gingering-up then, mr. dene," asked dorothy demurely. "dorothy!" expostulated mrs. west in shocked tones; but john dene merely looked at her, at first without understanding and then, seeing the point of her remark, he smiled right into her eyes, and again dorothy blushed and dropped her eyes. "you see," he said, turning to mrs. west, "we're a new country and it doesn't matter a bean to us how a thing was done yesterday, if some one comes along and tells us how we can do it better to-morrow, and we don't mind its getting known. that's what she meant," he added, nodding in dorothy's direction. "you must all feel delightfully free," murmured mrs. west tactfully. "free," echoed john dene in a tone of voice that seemed to suggest that in no place of the world was freedom so well understood as in the dominion. "in can'da we're just about as free as drinks at an election." dorothy giggled; but john dene seemed to see nothing strange in the simile. "you see, mother, mr. dene thinks we're all hopelessly old-fashioned," said dorothy with a mischievous side-glance at john dene; then, as he made no response, she added, "mr. dene can do three or four different things at the same time and--and----" she broke off and began to poke holes in the gravel with the point of her sunshade. "and what?" he demanded peremptorily. "well, we're not all so clever," she concluded, angry to feel herself flushing again. "oh----" suddenly dorothy started forward. a little boy who had been playing about in front of them for some time past, had tripped and fallen on his face. in an instant she was down on her knees striving to soothe the child's frightened cries, and using her dainty lace-edged handkerchief to staunch the blood that oozed from a cut on his cheek. john dene, who had risen also, stood watching her, his usual expression changed to one of deep concern. he looked from the child to dorothy, obviously struck by the change in her. there was knowledge and understanding of children in the way in which she handled the situation, he decided. he also noticed that she seemed quite oblivious of the fact that she was kneeling on the rough gravel to the detriment of her pretty frock. when eventually the mother of the child had led it away pacified by the attentions of dorothy and the largesse of john dene, he turned to the girl. "you like them?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the retreating infant. "i love them," she said softly, with a dreamy look. then catching john dene's eye she blushed, and john dene smiled. for the next half-hour mrs. west and john dene talked, dorothy remaining a listener. the sympathy and gentleness of mrs. west led john dene to talk in a way that surprised dorothy, accustomed to his habitual suspicion of strangers--british strangers. "say, does this bother you any?" he enquired presently of mrs. west, indicating the cigar from which he was puffing clouds of smoke. "not at all," said mrs. west, striving to keep from choking. "i--i like smoke." dorothy tittered in spite of herself at the expression of martyrdom on her mother's face. john dene turned to her enquiringly; she developed her giggle into a cough. "but you like england, mr. dene?" asked mrs. west by way of bridging the slight gulf that dorothy's giggle had caused. "sure," said john dene; "but i don't seem to be able to figure things out here as i did at t'ronto. over there we're just as dead keen on winning this war as we are on keeping alive; but here----" he filled in the hiatus with a volume of cigar smoke. "and don't you think we want to win the war, mr. dene?" asked dorothy. "well, some of those dancing lizards up at the admiralty have a funny way of showing it," was the grim rejoinder. "please, mr. dene, what is a dancing lizard?" asked dorothy demurely, developing a design that she was making in the gravel with the end of her sunshade. "dorothy!" expostulated mrs. west, and then without giving him an opportunity of replying, she continued: "but, mr. dene, i'm sure they are all extremely patriotic and--and----" "perhaps it's because i don't understand englishmen," he conceded. "why, the other day, when sir lyster took me along to see mr. llewellyn john about one of the biggest things that's ever likely to come his way, what do you think he talked about?" mrs. west shook her head, with a smile that seemed to say it was not for her to suggest what first lords talked of. "pelicans!" into that simple and unoffending word john dene managed to precipitate whole dictionaries of contempt and disapproval. "pelicans!" repeated mrs. west in surprise, whilst dorothy turned aside to hide the smile that was in danger of becoming a laugh. "sure," replied john dene. "birds with beaks like paddle-blades," he added, as if to leave no room for misunderstanding. "but didn't nero fiddle while rome burned?" enquired dorothy mischievously. "maybe," was the reply, "but i'll auction it didn't put the fire out." dorothy laughed. "you see, mr. dene," said mrs. west gently, "different countries have different traditions----" "i've no use for traditions," was the uncompromising rejoinder. "it seems to me that in this country every one's out to try and prevent every one else from knowing what they're thinking. i've a rare picnic to find out what sir lyster's thinking when i'm talking to him." he bit savagely into the end of his cigar, when turning suddenly to mrs. west he said, "here, will you and your daughter come and have some tea with me? i suppose we can get tea around here?" he enquired, apparently of the surrounding landscape. "it's very kind of you, mr. dene," said mrs. west sweetly. "we should be delighted, shouldn't we, dorothy?" "yes, mother," said dorothy without enthusiasm. john dene turned suddenly and looked at her. again he smiled. "why, i hadn't thought of that," he said. "thought of what?" she asked. "why, you see enough of me all the week without my butting in on your holidays." "oh, mr. dene!" cried dorothy reproachfully, "how can you be so unkind? now we shall insist upon your taking us to tea, won't we, mother?" mrs. west smiled up at john dene who had risen. "i'm afraid we can't let you off now, mr. dene," she said sweetly. "well, i take it, i shan't be tugging at the halter," he said, as they walked towards where the pagoda reared its slim, un-english body above the trees. having found a table and ordered tea, john dene looked about him appreciatively. "we haven't got anything like this in t'ronto," he repeated, as if anxious to give full justice to the old country for at least one unique feature. "thank you for that tribute," said dorothy demurely. "but it's true," said john dene, turning to her. "but you don't always say a thing just because it's true, do you?" she enquired. "sure," was the uncompromising response. "but," continued dorothy, "suppose one day i was looking very plain and unattractive, would you tell me of it?" "you couldn't." this was said with such an air of conviction that dorothy felt her cheeks burn, and she lowered her eyes. john dene, she decided, could be extremely embarrassing. his conversation seemed to consist of one-pound notes: he had no small change. for some time she remained silent, again leaving the conversation to john dene and her mother. he was telling her something of his early struggles and adventures, first in canada, then in america and finally in canada again. how he had lost both his parents when a child, and had been adopted by an uncle and aunt who, apparently, made no attempt to disguise the fact that they regarded him as an expensive nuisance. at twelve he had run away, determined to carve out his own career, "and i did it," he concluded. "but how did you manage to do it in the time?" asked mrs. west. "i was thirty-seven last fall. i began at twelve. you can do a rare lot in twenty-five years--if you don't happen to have too many ancestors hanging around," he added grimly. "i think you are very wonderful," was mrs. west's comment, and john dene knew she meant it. "if i'd been in this country," he remarked with a return of his old self-assertiveness, "i'd probably be driving a street-car, or picking up cigarette-stubs." "why?" enquired mrs. west, puzzled at the remark. "you can't jump over a wall when you're wearing leaden soles on your boots," was the terse rejoinder. "and haven't you sometimes missed not having a mother?" enquired mrs. west gently, tears in her sympathetic eyes at the thought of this solitary man who had never known the comforts of a home. "she would have been proud of you." "would she?" he enquired simply, as he crumbled his cake and threw it to a flurry of birds that was hopefully fluttering on the fringe of the tables. "a son's success means more to a mother than anything else," said mrs. west. "i seem to have been hustling around most of my time," said john dene. "i'm always working when i'm not asleep. perhaps i haven't felt it as much----" he left the sentence uncompleted; but there was a look in his eyes that was not usually there. mrs. west sighed with all a mother's sympathy for a lonely man. "do you like birds, mr. dene?" asked dorothy. "why, sure," he replied, "i like all animals. that's what i don't understand about you over here," he continued. "but we love animals," said mrs. west. "i mean stag and fox-hunting." there was a hard note in his voice. "if i had a place in this country and anyone came around hunting foxes on my land, there'd be enough trouble to keep the whole place from going to sleep for the next month." "what should you do?" enquired dorothy wickedly. "well, if anything had to be killed that day it wouldn't be the fox." "i'm afraid you wouldn't be very popular with your neighbours," said dorothy. "i don't care a pea-nut whether i'm popular or not," he said grimly; "but they'd have to sort of learn that if they wanted to run foxes, they must go somewhere else than on my land." dorothy decided that the english county that opened its gates to john dene would have an unexpectedly exciting time. mentally she pictured him, a revolver in each hand, holding up a whole fox-hunt, the sudden reining in of horses, the shouting of the huntsman and the master, whilst the dogs streamed across the country after their quarry. perhaps it was as well, she decided, that john dene had no intention of settling in england. "this has been fine," said john dene after a long silence, during which the three seemed content to enjoy the beauty of the afternoon. "i wonder if you----" then he paused, as he looked across at mrs. west. "you wonder if i would what, mr. dene?" she asked with a smile. "i was just going to invite you to dine with me," continued john dene, "only i remembered that your daughter probably has enough of me----" "if you word all your invitations like that," said dorothy, "we shall accept every one, shan't we, mother?" mrs. west smiled. "say, that's bully," he cried. "we'll get a taxi and drive back. i'd hate to spoil a good day by dining alone;" and he called for his bill. "that's the third time i've seen that little man this afternoon," said dorothy, lowering her voice as a man in a blue suit and light boots paused a few yards in front of them to read the label on a tree. "isn't it funny how one runs across the same person time after time?" "sure," said john dene. there was in his voice a note of grimness that neither dorothy nor mrs. west seemed to detect. at the main gates they secured a taxi. as they hummed eastward, dorothy noticed that the heavy preoccupied look, so characteristic of john dene's face had lifted. he smiled more frequently and looked about him, not with that almost fierce penetrating glance to which she had been accustomed; but with a look of genuine interest. "if it wouldn't bother you any," said john dene, suddenly leaning across to mrs. west, "i'd like to get an automobile, and perhaps you'd show me one or two places i ought to see. i'd be glad if----" he looked at her and smiled. "it's very kind of you----" began mrs. west. "of course i don't want to butt-in," he said a little hastily. "am i included in the invitation?" asked dorothy quietly. "sure," he replied, looking at her a little surprised. then, seeing the twitching at the corners of her mouth, he smiled. "then that's fixed up," he said. "i'll have an automobile for next saturday, and you shall arrange where we're to go." "but you mustn't joy-ride," said dorothy, suddenly remembering d.o.r.a. and all her don't's. "mustn't what?" demanded john dene, in the tone of a man who finds his pleasures suddenly threatened from an unexpected angle. "it's forbidden to use petrol for pleasure," she explained. john dene made a noise in his throat that, from her knowledge of him, dorothy recognised as a sign that someone was on the eve of being gingered-up. "i'll get that automobile," he announced; and dorothy knew that there was trouble impending for mr. blair. "and we'll have a picnic-hamper, shall we?" she cried excitedly. "sure," replied john dene, "i'll order one." "oh, won't that be lovely, mother!" she cried, clapping her hands. mrs. west smiled her pleasure. "where are you taking us to dinner?" enquired dorothy of john dene. "the ritzton," he replied. "oh, but we're not dressed for that!" "it's war time and i never dress," he announced, as if that settled the matter. "but--" began mrs. west hesitatingly. "perhaps you'd rather not come?" he began tentatively, his disappointment too obvious to disguise. "oh, but we want to come!" said mrs. west, "only we're not in quite the right clothes for the ritzton, are we?" "don't you worry," he reassured her; then a moment later added, "that's what i'm up against in this country. everybody's putting on the clothes they think other people expect them to wear. if people don't like my clothes, they can look where i'm not sitting. we're not going to win this war by wearing clothes," he announced. then dorothy started to gurgle. the picture of endeavouring to win the war without clothes struck her as comical. "dorothy!" admonished mrs. west. "i--i was just thinking, mother." "thinking of what?" asked john dene. "i was just wondering how sir lyster would look trying to win the war without clothes," and she trailed off into a splutter of laughter. "dorothy!" mrs. west turned to john dene with a comical look of concern. "i'm afraid my daughter is in one of her wilful moods to-day, mr. dene," she explained. "she'll do as she is," he announced with decision and again dorothy felt her cheeks burn. "i like mr. dene," announced mrs. west that night as she and dorothy sat at the open window of the drawing-room before going to bed. "so you approve of your future son-in-law, mother mine, i'm so glad," said dorothy. "you mustn't say such things, my dear," expostulated mrs. west. "i'm afraid i shall have to do the proposing though," dorothy added. "it was very strange, meeting mr. dene to-day," remarked mrs. west half to herself. "very," remarked dorothy, and she hastened to talk of something else. that night john dene dreamed he was a little boy again, and had fallen down and hurt himself, and a beautiful lady had knelt beside him and kissed him. he awakened with a start just as the lady had turned into dorothy, with her note-book, asking if there were any more letters. chapter xi the strangeness of john dene "here, i'm being trailed." mr. blair looked up from his writing-table with a startled expression as john dene burst into his room. in entering a room john dene gave the impression of first endeavouring to break through the panels, and appearing to turn the handle only as an afterthought. "trailed," repeated mr. blair in an uncomprehending manner. john dene stood looking down at him accusingly, as if he were responsible. "yes, trailed, watched, tracked, shadowed, followed, bumped-into, trodden-on," snapped john dene irritably. he was annoyed that a man occupying an important position should not be able to grasp his meaning without repetition. "you know anything about it?" he demanded. mr. blair merely shook his head. "he in?" john dene jerked his head in the direction of sir lyster's room. "he's--he's rather busy," began mr. blair. "oh, shucks!" cried john dene, and striding across to the door he passed into sir lyster's room. "morning," he cried, as sir lyster looked up from his table. "someone's following me around again," he announced, "and i want to know whether it's you or them." "me or who?" queried sir lyster. "whether it's some of your boys, or the other lot." after a moment's reflection sir lyster seemed to grasp john dene's meaning. "i'll make enquiry," he said suavely. "well, you might suggest that it doesn't please me mightily. i don't like being trailed in this fashion, so if it's any of your boys just you whistle 'em off." "i doubt if you would be aware of the fact if we were having you shadowed, mr. dene," said sir lyster quietly, "and in any case it would be for your own safety." "when john dene can't take care of himself," was the reply, "he'd better give up and start a dairy." "how is the _destroyer_ progressing?" enquired sir lyster with the object of changing the conversation. "fine," was the reply. "your man had better be ready on friday. one of my boys'll pick him up, jim grant's his name." "sir goliath maggie has appointed commander ryles," said sir lyster. "well, let him be ready by friday. grant'll pick him up on his way north. your man can't mistake him, little chap with red hair all over him. don't forget to call off your boys;" and with that john dene was gone. ten minutes later sir bridgman north found the first lord sitting at his table, apparently deep in thought. "i can see john dene's been here," laughed sir bridgman. "you and blair both show all the outward visible signs of having been 'gingered-up.'" sir lyster smiled feebly. he felt that sir bridgman was wearing the joke a little threadbare. "he's been here about one of his men picking up ryles on his way to auchinlech," said sir lyster. "a little man with red hair all over him was his description." "that seems pretty comprehensive," remarked sir bridgman. "he'd better go right through and pick up ryles at scapa. they'll probably appreciate him there. it's rather dull for 'em." "i take it that mr. dene will follow in a day or two. it----" sir lyster paused; then, seeing that he was expected to finish his sentence, he added, "it will really be something of a relief. he quite upset rickards a few days ago over some requisitions. i've never known him so annoyed." "profane, you mean," laughed sir bridgman. "what happened?" "apparently he objected to being called a dancing lizard, and told to quit his funny work." sir lyster smiled as if finding consolation in the fact that another had suffered at the hands of john dene. "it's nothing to what he did to poor old rayner," laughed sir bridgman. "a dear old chap, you know, but rather of the old blue-water school." sir lyster nodded. he remembered that admiral rayner seemed to take a delight in reminding him of his civilian status. with sir lyster he was always as technical in his language as a midshipman back from his first cruise. "rayner wanted to fit up the toronto with an archie gun, and john dene told him to cut it out. rayner protested that he was the better judge and all that sort of thing. john dene ended by telling poor old rayner that next time he'd better come in a dressing-gown, as he'd be damned if gold bands went with the colour of his skin. rayner hasn't been civil to anyone since;" and sir bridgman laughed loudly. "i think my sympathies are with rayner," smiled sir lyster, as sir bridgman moved towards the door. "frankly, i don't like john dene." "don't like him! why?" "well," sir lyster hesitated for the fraction of a second, "he will persist in treating us as equals." "now i call that damned nice of him;" and sir bridgman left the first lord gazing at the panels of the door that closed behind him. whilst sir lyster and sir bridgman were discussing his unconventional methods with admirals, john dene had returned to his office and was working at high pressure. sometimes dorothy wondered if his energy were like the widow's cruse. finishing touches had to be put to everything. instructions had to be sent to blake as to where to pick up grant and commander ryles, and a hundred and one things "rounded-off," as john dene phrased it. during his absence, dorothy was to be at the office each day until lunch time to attend to any matters that might crop up. if john dene required anything, it was arranged that he would wireless for it, and dorothy was to see that his instructions were carried out to the letter. the quality about john dene that had most impressed dorothy was his power of concentration. he would become so absorbed in his work that nothing else seemed to have the power of penetrating to his brain. a question addressed to him that was unrelated to what was in hand he would ignore, appearing not to have heard it; on the other hand a remark germane to the trend of his thoughts would produce an instant reply. it appeared as if his mind were so attuned as to throw off all extraneous matter. his quickness of decision and amazing vitality dorothy found bewildering, accustomed as she was to the more methodical procedure of a government department. "when you know all you're likely to know about a thing, then make up your mind," he had said on one occasion. he had "no use for" a man who would wait until to-morrow afternoon to see how things looked then. "i sleep on a bed, not on an idea," was another of his remarks that she remembered, and once when commenting upon the cautiousness of sir lyster grayne he had said, "the man who takes risks makes dollars." gradually dorothy had fallen under the spell of john dene's masterful personality. she found herself becoming critical of others by the simple process of comparing them with the self-centred john dene. she would smile at his eccentricities, his intolerance, his supreme belief in himself, and his almost fanatical determination to "ginger-up" any and every one in the british empire whose misfortune it was to exist outside the dominion of canada. at odd moments he told her much about canada, and how little that country was understood in england. how blind british statesmen were to the fact that the eyes of many canadians were turned anxiously towards the great republic upon their borders; how in the rapid growth of the u.s.a. they saw a convincing argument in favour of a tightening of the bonds that bound the dominion to the old country. when on the subject he would stride restlessly up and down the room, snapping out short, sharp sentences of protest and criticism. his imperialism was that of the enthusiast. to him a canada lost to the british empire meant a british empire lost to itself. his great idea was to see the old country control the world by virtue of its power, its brain and its justice. his memory was amazing. if dorothy found her notes obscure, and to complete a sentence happened to insert a word that was not the one he had dictated, john dene would note it as he read the letter with a little grunt, sometimes of approval, sometimes of doubt or correction. there were times when she felt, as she expressed it to her mother, as if she had been dining off beef essence and oxygen. sometimes she wondered where john dene obtained all his amazing vitality. he was a small eater, seeming to regard meals as a waste of time, and he seldom drank anything but water. at the end of the day dorothy would feel more tired than she had ever felt before; but she had caught something of john dene's enthusiasm, which seemed to carry her along and defy the fatigues of the body. had it not been for the saturday afternoons, and the whole day's rest on sunday, she felt that she would not have been able to continue. in his intolerance john dene was sometimes amusing, sometimes monotonous; but always uncompromising. one day dorothy ventured a word of expostulation. he had just been expressing his unmeasured contempt for mr. blair. "you mustn't judge the whole british navy by mr. blair," she said, looking up from her note-book with a smile. "one fool makes many," he had snapped decisively. "so that if i prove a fool," continued dorothy quietly, "it convicts you of being a fool also." "but that's another transaction," he objected. "is it?" she asked, and became absorbed in her notes. for some time john dene had continued to dictate. presently he stopped in the middle of a letter. "i hadn't figured it out that way," he said. dorothy looked up at him in surprise, then she realised that he was referring to her previous remark, and that he was making the amende honorable. his manner frequently puzzled dorothy. at times he seemed unaware of her existence; at others she would, on looking up from her work, find him regarding her intently. he showed entire confidence in her discretion, allowing her access to documents of a most private and confidential nature. for week after week they worked incessantly. dorothy was astonished at the mass of detail requisite for the commissioning of a ship. indents for stores and equipment had to be prepared for the admiralty, reports from blake read and replied to, requisitions for materials required had to be confirmed, samples obtained, examined, and finally passed, and instructions sent to blake. strange documents they seemed to dorothy, rendered bewildering by their technicalities, and flung at her in short, jerky sentences as john dene strode up and down the room. "if you could only see john dene prancing, mother mine," said dorothy one day to mrs. west, "and the demure dorothy taking down whole dictionaries of funny words she never even knew existed, you'd be a proud woman." mrs. west had smiled at her daughter, as she sat at her favourite place on a stool at her feet. "you see, what john dene wants is managing," continued dorothy sagely, "and no one understands how to do it except sir bridgman and me. with us he'll stand without hitching." "stand without what, dear," asked mrs. west. "without hitching," laughed dorothy. "that's one of his phrases. it means that he's so tame that he'll eat out of your hand;" and she laughed gaily at the puzzled look on her mother's face. "mr. dene has been very kind," said mrs. west presently. "i should miss him very much if he went away." there was regret in her voice. "now, mother, no poaching," cried dorothy. "john dene is mine for keeps, and if i let you come out with us and play gooseberry, you mustn't try and cut me out, because," looking critically at her mother, "you could if you liked. nobody could help loving my little victorian white mouse;" and she hugged her mother's knee, missing the faint flush of pleasure that her words had aroused. finding his welcome assured, john dene had taken to joining dorothy and her mother on their saturday and sunday excursions. the picnic had proved a great success, and dorothy had been surprised at the change in john dene's manner. the hard, keen look of a man who is thinking how he can bring off some deal was entirely absent. he seemed always ready to smile and be amused. once he had almost laughed. she was touched by the way in which he always looked after her mother, his gentleness and solicitude. "wessie, darling," marjorie rogers had said one day, "you're taming the bear. he'll dance soon; but, my dear, his boots," and the comical grimace that had accompanied the remark had caused dorothy to laugh in spite of herself. "if ever i marry a man," continued marjorie, "it will be because of his boots. let him have silk socks and beautiful shoes or boots, and i am as clay in his hands. for such a man i would sin like a 'temporary.'" "marjorie, you're a little idiot," cried dorothy. "i saw john dene a few days ago," continued marjorie. "did you?" "yes, and i stopped him." "you didn't, marjorie." there was incredulity in dorothy's voice. "didn't i, though," was the retort. "i gave him a hint, too." "a hint." dorothy felt uncomfortable. the downrightness of marjorie rogers was both notorious and embarrassing. "well," nonchalantly, "i just said that at the admiralty men always kept their secretaries well-supplied with flowers and chocolates." "you little beast!" cried dorothy, remembering the chocolates and flowers that had recently been reaching her. "i should like to slap you." "why not give me one of the chocolates instead," said marjorie imperturbably. "i saw the box directly i came in," nodding at a large white and gold box that dorothy had unsuccessfully striven to hide beneath a filing-cabinet as marjorie entered. "if it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have had them at all," she added. presently she was munching chocolates contentedly, whilst dorothy found herself hating both the chocolates and flowers. at the end of the fifth week blake wrote that the _destroyer_ would be ready for sea on the following wednesday. the effect of the news upon john dene was curious. instead of appearing elated at the near approach of the fruition of his schemes, he sat at his table for fully half an hour looking straight in front of him. when at last he spoke, it was to enquire of dorothy if she liked men in uniform. that afternoon he worked with unflagging industry. it seemed to dorothy that he was deliberately calling to mind every little detail that had for some reason or other temporarily been put aside. he seemed to be determined to leave no loose ends. such matters as he was unable to clear up himself, he gave elaborate instructions to dorothy that would enable her to act without reference to him. at half-past five, after a final glance round the room, he leaned back in his chair. "i shall sleep some to-night," he remarked. "don't you always sleep?" enquired dorothy. "i sleep better when there are no loose ends tickling my brain," was the reply. as dorothy left the office a few minutes after six he called her back. "if i've forgotten anything you'd best remind me." "mother," she remarked, when she got home that evening, "john dene's the funniest man in all the world." "is he, dear?" said mrs. west non-committally. dorothy nodded her head with decision. "he wastes an awful lot of time, and then he hustles like--like--well, you know." "how do you mean, dear?" queried mrs. west. "well, he'll sit sometimes for an hour looking at nothing. it's not complimentary when i'm there," she added. "perhaps he's thinking," suggested mrs. west. "oh, no!" dorothy shook her head with decision. "he thinks while he's eating. you can see him do it. that's why he thinks salmon is pink cod. no; john dene is a very remarkable man; but he'd be very trying as a husband." dorothy spoke lightly; but during the last few days she had been asking herself what she would do when john dene was gone. sometimes she would sit and ponder over it, then with a movement of impatience she would plunge once more into her work. what was john dene to her that she should miss him? he was just her employer, and in a few months he would go back to canada, and she would never see him again. one morning she awakened crying from a dream in which john dene had just said good-day to her and stepped on a large steamer labelled "to canada." that day she was almost brusque in her manner, so much so that john dene had asked her if she were not well. the next morning when dorothy arrived at the office, she found john dene sitting at his table. as she entered, he looked round, stared at her for a moment and then nodded, and as if as an after-thought added, "good morning." dorothy passed into her own room. she was a little puzzled. this was the first morning that john dene had been there before her. as she came out with her note-book she looked at him closely, conscious of something in his manner that was strange, something she could not altogether define. his voice seemed a little husky, and he lacked the quick bird-like movements so characteristic of him. she made no remark, however, merely seating herself in her customary place and waited for letters. he drew from his pocket some notes and began to dictate. never before had he used notes when dictating. several times she glanced at him, and noted that he appeared to be reading from the manuscript rather than dictating; but she decided that he had probably written out rough drafts in order to assure accuracy. his voice was very strange. "did you sleep well last night, mr. dene?" she enquired during a pause in the dictation. "sleep well," he repeated, looking up at her, "i always sleep well." dorothy was startled. there was something in the glance and the brusque tone that puzzled her. both were so unlike john dene. she had mentally decided that he spoke to her as he spoke to no one else. she had compared his inflection when addressing her with that he adopted to others, even so important a person as sir bridgman north. now he spoke gruffly, as if he were irritated at being spoken to. apparently he sensed what was passing through her mind, for he turned to her again and said: "i'm not feeling very well this morning, miss west, i----" then he hesitated. "perhaps you didn't sleep very well," she suggested mischievously. "no, i'm afraid that's what it was," he acknowledged dorothy's eyes opened just a little in surprise. a minute ago he had stated that he always slept well. either john dene was mad or ill; and dorothy continued to take down, greatly puzzled. had he been drugged? the thought caused her to pause in her work and glance up at him. he certainly seemed vague and uncertain, and then he looked so strange. when he had dictated for about half an hour, john dene handed her a large number of documents to copy, telling her that there would not be any more letters that day. to her surprise he picked up his hat and announced that he would not be back until five o'clock to sign the letters. never before had he missed lunching at his office. dorothy was now convinced that something was wrong. everything about him seemed strange and forced. once or twice she caught him looking at her furtively; but immediately she raised her eyes, he hastily shifted his, as if caught in some doubtful act. at twelve o'clock lunch arrived, and dorothy had to confess to herself that it was a lonely and unsatisfactory meal. at five o'clock john dene returned and signed the letters with a rubber stamp, which he had recently adopted. "when are you going away, mr. dene?" asked dorothy. "i don't know," he responded gruffly. "i merely asked because two people on the telephone enquired when you were going away." "and what did you say?" "oh, i just said what you told me. a man called this afternoon also with the same question." for a moment he looked at her, then turning on his heel said "good evening," and with a nod walked out. dorothy had expected him to make some remark about these enquiries. she knew that john dene had no friends in london, and the questions as to when he was going away had struck her as strange. the next day was a repetition of the first. a few letters were dictated, a sheaf of documents handed to her to copy, and john dene disappeared. again lunch was brought for her, which she ate alone, and at five o'clock he came in and signed the letters. by this time dorothy was convinced that he was ill. the strain of the past few weeks had evidently been telling on him. when he had signed the last letter she bluntly enquired if he felt better. "better?" he interrogated. "i haven't been ill." "i thought you didn't seem quite well," said dorothy hesitatingly; but he brushed aside the enquiry by picking up his hat and bidding her "good evening." dorothy was feeling annoyed and a little hurt; and preserved an attitude of businesslike brevity in all her remarks to john dene. if he chose to adopt the attitude of the uncompromising employer, she on her part would humour him by becoming an ordinary employee. still she had to confess to herself that the old pleasure in her work had departed. hitherto she had looked forward to her arrival at the office, the coming of john dene, their luncheons together and the occasional little chats that were sandwiched in between her work. she had become deeply interested in the _destroyer_ and what it would achieve in the war. she had been flattered by the confidence that john dene had shown hi her discretion, and had felt that she was "doing her bit." again, the sense of being behind the scenes pleased her. she was conscious of knowing secrets that were denied even to cabinet ministers. the members of the war cabinet knew less than she did about the _destroyer_ and what was expected of it. john dene was a man who did everything thoroughly. if he trusted anyone, he did it implicitly; if he distrusted anyone, he did it uncompromisingly. where he liked, he liked to excess; where he disliked, he disliked to the elimination of all good qualities. half measures did not exist for john dene of toronto. when dorothy discovered that all the old intimacy had passed away, and john dene had become merely an employer, treating her as a secretary, she was conscious that the glamour had fallen from her work. somehow or other the _destroyer_ had receded into something impersonal, whereas hitherto it had appeared to her as if she had been in some way or other intimately associated with it. it was all very strange and very puzzling, she told herself. sometimes she wondered if she had done anything to annoy him. then she told herself that there was something more than personal pique in his manner. his whole bearing seemed to have changed, as if he had decided to regard her merely as a piece of mechanism, just as he did the typewriter, or his office chair. it was at this period of her reasoning that dorothy discovered her dignity. from that time her attitude was that of the injured woman, yet perfect secretary. her sense of humour had deserted her, and she arrived at the office and left it very much upon her dignity. even mrs. west noticed the difference in her manner, and at last enquired if anything were wrong, or if she were unwell; but dorothy reassured her with a hug and a kiss, and for the rest of that evening had been particularly bright and vivacious. when mrs. west mentioned the name of john dene, dorothy did not pursue the topic, although mrs. west failed to notice that she was switched off to other subjects. at the end of the week she noticed that john dene handed her the week's salary in notes. hitherto it had been his custom to place the money in an envelope and put it on her table. she concluded that this new method was to impress upon her that she was a dependent, and that the old relationship between them had been severed. that evening, dorothy was always paid on the friday evening, she held her head very high when she left the office. if mr. john dene required decorum, then he should have it in plenty from his secretary. the next morning and the monday following, dorothy was very much on her dignity. she seemed suddenly to have become imbued with all the qualities of the perfect secretary. no hint of a smile was allowed to wanton across her features, she was grave, ceremonial, efficient. she worked harder than ever and, when she had finished the tasks john dene set her, she manufactured others so that her time should be fully occupied. for a day and a half she laboured to show john dene that she was offended; but apparently he was oblivious, not only of having offended her, but of the fact that she was endeavouring to convey to him the change that had come about in their relations. on the monday evening he did not return to sign his letters until nearly six. by that time dorothy was almost desperate in her desire to show this obtuse man that she was annoyed with him. she felt at the point of tears when he bade her good night and left the office, just as big ben was booming out the hour. she would go home and forget all about the stupid creature, dorothy decided, as she hastily put on her coat and dug the hat-pins through her hat. on reaching the street she saw john dene standing at the corner of charles street. for a moment she thrilled. was he waiting for her? no, he was looking in the opposite direction, apparently deep in thought. she saw a taxi draw up beside him. the driver, a little man with a grey moustache, dorothy remembered to have seen him several times "crawling" about on the look-out for fares. the taxi stopped and the man bent towards john dene. dorothy stood and watched. john dene was right in her line of route to the piccadilly tube, and she did not wish him to see her. for a moment john dene seemed to hesitate, then with a word to the driver he opened the door and got in. suddenly dorothy remembered colonel walton's warning. impulsively she started forward, just as the taxi started and a moment later whizzed swiftly past her. john dene was evidently in a hurry. at that moment her attention was distracted by shouts and a smash. a small run-about car had suddenly dashed across regent street from the west side of charles street and crashed into the forepart of another taxi. a crowd gathered, a policeman arrived, and she had a vision of an angry taxi-driver, another man pointing to the roadway, as if the blame lay there, whilst the passenger from the taxi was running towards the florence nightingale statue shouting and waving his arms at the vehicles passing along pall mall. slowly dorothy turned and pursued her way up regent street. she was tired and--and, oh! it was so stupid, going on living. that night as she was undressing she remembered the passenger from the second taxi. why had he been so interested in the taxi that was bearing john dene away, and why had he tried to signal to other vehicles passing along pall mall? he had seemed greatly excited. above all, why had john dene taken a taxi when he had been warned against it? chapter xii the _destroyer_ ready for sea james blake stood in the bows of the _toronto_ gazing down at the long, cigar-shaped object that lay like a huge grey cocoon reposing in her bowels. the morrow would see the _destroyer_ floated out to carry her three hundred odd feet of menace into the blues and greys of the ocean. blake was a man upon whom silence had descended as a blight; heavy of build, slow of thought, ponderous of movement, he absorbed all and apparently gave out nothing. his most acute emotion he expressed by fingering the right-hand side of his ragged beard, whilst his eyes seemed to smoulder as his thoughts slowly took shape. as he gazed down at the grey shape of the _destroyer's_ hull, there was in his eyes a strange look of absorption. for nearly two years he had lived for the _destroyer_. it had been wife and family to him, home and holiday, labour and recreation, food and drink. nothing else mattered, because nothing else was. the war existed only in so far as it was concerned with the _destroyer_. it was the _mise en scêne_ for this wonder-boat. it was to be her setting, just as a stage is the setting for a play. as he gazed down at her, he fumbled in the pocket of his pilot-jacket and drew forth a cigar, one of a box that john dene had sent him. slowly and deliberately he pulled out his jack-knife, cut off the end and, taking a good grip of the cigar with his teeth, lighted it, all without once raising his eyes from the _destroyer_. as he puffed clouds of smoke for the breeze to pick up and scurry off with to the west, he thought lovingly of the work of the last two years, of the last month in particular. never had men worked as had james blake and his "boys." it was not for country or for gain that they slaved and sweated; it was not patriotism or pride of race that caused them to work until forced, by sheer inability to keep awake, to lie down for a few hours' sleep, always within sound of their comrades' hammers, often beside the _destroyer_ herself. it was "the boss" for whom they worked. they were his men, and this was their boat. every time john dene wrote to blake, there was always a message for "the boys." "i know the boys will show these britishers what canada can do," he would write, or, "see that the boys get all they want and plenty to smoke." remembering was john dene's long suit; and his men would do anything for "the boss." blake had not spared himself. when not engaged in the work of overseeing, he had thrown off his coat and worked with the most vigorous. he seemed never to sleep or rest. every detail of the _destroyer's_ construction he carried in his head. plans there had been in his shack; but what were the use of plans to a man who had every line, every bolt and nut engraved upon his brain. he had them merely for reference. and now all was ready. that morning the _destroyer_ had been floated into the _toronto_ to see that everything on the mother-ship was in order. once floated out again, there remained only the taking on board stores and munitions. these lay piled upon the _toronto's_ deck ready at the word of command to be transferred to the _destroyer_. in design the _destroyer_ was very similar to the latest form of submarine: ft. ins. in length, she had a breadth of ft. . ins. amidships, tapering to a point fore and aft. she carried two ordinary torpedo tubes and mounted two in. guns; but these were in the nature of an auxiliary armament. her main armament consisted of eight pneumatic-tubes, two in the bows, two in the stern, one on either bow and one on either beam. these fired small arrow-headed missiles, rather like miniature torpedoes fitted with lance-heads for cutting through nets. they had sufficient power to penetrate the plates of a submarine, and were furnished with an automatic detonator, which caused the bursting charge to explode three seconds after impact. the charge was sufficient to blow a hole in the side of a "u"-boat large enough to ensure its immediate destruction. these projectiles were rendered additionally deadly by the fact that their heads became automatically magnetic as they sped through the water. thus the target against which they were launched achieved its own destination. they were fitted with small gyroscopes to keep them straight until the magnetic-heads began to exert a dominating influence. amidships was the conning-tower, with its four searchlights, so arranged as to be capable of being used singly or together. thus it was possible to illuminate the waters for half a mile in every direction. above the conning-tower were two collapsible periscopes, and beneath it the central ballast, beneath which lay the charge of t.n.t. that john dene had boasted would send the _destroyer_ to kingdom come should she ever be in danger of capture. abaft the conning-tower were the engines, a switchboard, and finally the berths of the engine-room staff. for'ard of the conning-tower were the berths of the crew, and still further for'ard were those of john dene and the officers. john dene's invention of a new and lighter storage-battery had enabled him to control the _destroyer_ entirely by electricity. she possessed an endurance of fifteen-hundred miles, and as for the most part she held a watching brief, this would mean that she could remain at sea for a month or more. her speed submerged was fourteen knots, which gave her a superiority over the fastest german craft, and she could remain submerged for two days. she could then recharge her compressed-air chambers without coming to the surface by means of a tube, through which fresh air could be sucked from the surface, and the foul discharged. these were weighted and floated in various parts in such a manner that they could be thrown out in a diagonal direction. the object of this was to protect the _destroyer_ from depth-charges in the event of her whereabouts being discovered by an enemy ship, which would render it dangerous for her to come to the surface. "the _destroyer's_ a submarine," john dene had remarked, "and submarines fight and live under water and not on it." consequently in designing the _destroyer_ he had first considered the special requirements entailed by the novelty of the methods she would employ. she had deck-guns, periscopes and torpedo-tubes; but they were in every sense subsidiary to those qualities that rendered her unique among boats capable of submersion, viz., her searchlights and her magnetic projectiles. under water there were only two dangers capable of threatening her--mines and depth-charges. properly handled and without mishap, there was no reason why she should ever return to the surface except in the neighbourhood of her own harbour. her most remarkable device, however, was the microphone, so sensitive that, with the aid of her searchlights it would enable the _destroyer_ to account for any "u"-boat that came within seven or eight miles of where she was lying. as blake stood surveying his handiwork, he was joined by his second-in-command, jasper quinton, known among his intimates as "spotty," a nickname due to the irregularity of his complexion. quinton was an englishman who had gone to canada to make his fortune as a mining-engineer. soon after war broke out he had successfully applied to john dene for a job, and had acquitted himself so well that john dene had taken him into his confidence in regard to the _destroyer_, and "jasp," as he called him, had proved "a cinch." john dene made few mistakes about men and none about women: the one he understood, the other he avoided. "spotty" quint on spat meditatively upon the hull of the _destroyer_. he was a man to whom words came infrequently and with difficulty; but he could spit a whole gamut of emotions: anger, contempt, approval, indifference, all were represented by salivation. if he were forced to speech, he built up his phrases upon the foundation of a single word, "ruddy"; but apparently with entire unconsciousness that it had its uses as an oath. to "spotty" quinton, john dene was the "ruddy boss," his invention the "ruddy _destroyer_," the enemy the "ruddy hun," the ocean the "ruddy water." he served out his favourite adjective with entire impartiality. he no more meant reproach to the hun than to john dene. he tacitly accepted them both, the one as a power for evil, the other as a power for good. as quinton silently took up a position by his side, blake turned and looked at him interrogatingly. "ruddy masterpiece," exclaimed quinton, spitting his admiration. blake gazed upon the unprepossessing features of his subordinate, and tugging a cigar from his pocket, handed it to him. silently "spotty" took the cigar, bit off the end and spat it together with his thanks into the hold of the _toronto_. he then proceeded to light the cigar. the two men turned and made their way to the cabin allotted to them as a sort of office of works. both were thinking of the morrow when the _destroyer_ would be floated out from the parent ship ready for her first voyage. in addition to john dene and his second-in-command, she would carry commander ryles, who had a distinguished record in submarine warfare. he would represent the admiralty. john dene had experienced some difficulty at the admiralty over the personnel of the _destroyer's_ crew; but he had stood resolutely to his guns, and the authorities had capitulated. this was largely due to sir bridgman north's wise counsels. "when," he remarked, "i have to choose between giving john dene his head and being gingered-up, i prefer the first. it's infinitely less painful." sir lyster had been inclined to expostulate with his colleague upon the manner in which he gave way to john dene's demands. sir lyster felt that the dignity of his office was being undermined by the blunt-spoken canadian. "do you not think," he had remarked in the early days of the descent of john dene upon the admiralty, "that it would be better for us to stand up to mr. dene? i think the effect would be salutary." "for us, undoubtedly," sir bridgman had said drily. "personally i object to being gingered-up. look at poor blair. there you see the results of the process. he ceased to be an imperialist within twenty-four hours of john dene's coming upon the scene. now he goes about with a hunted look in his eyes, and a prayer in his heart that he may get through the day without being gingered-up by the unspeakable john dene." "i really think i shall have to speak to mr. dene about----" sir lyster had begun. "take my advice and don't," was the retort. "blair and john dene represent two epochs: blair is the british empire that was, john dene is the british empire that is to be. it's like one of nelson's old three-deckers against a super-dreadnought, and blair ain't the dreadnought." "he is certainly a remarkable man," sir lyster had admitted conventionally, referring to john dene. "he's more than that, grayne," said sir bridgman, "he's the first genus-patriot produced by the british empire, possibly by the world," he added drily, proceeding to light a cigarette. "think of it," he added half to himself, "he could have got literally millions for his invention from any of the big naval powers; yet he chooses to give it to us for nothing, and what's more he's not out for honours. ginger or no ginger, john dene's a man worth meeting, grayne, on my soul he is." blake and quinton seated themselves one on either side of the little wooden table in the cabin of the _toronto_ that answered as an office of works, blake looking straight in front of him, quinton absorbed in smoking and expectoration. presently blake took from his pocket a large silver watch, gazed at it with deliberation, then raising his eyes nodded to his companion. with a final expectoration, "spotty" rose and left the cabin, walked over to the starboard side and climbed down into the motor-boat that lay there manned by her crew of three men. without a word the man with the boat-hook pushed off, the motor was started and the boat throbbed her way to the entrance to the little harbour. the crew of the _destroyer_ had learned from blake the virtue of silence. for half an hour the motor-boat tore her way over the waters, heading due south. from time to time quinton gazed ahead through a pair of binoculars. "starb'd," he called to the helmsman as he lowered the glass from his eyes for the twentieth time, then by way of explanation added, "the ruddy chaser." "steady," he added a moment later. a few minutes later a cloud of white spray indicated the approach of a small craft travelling at a high rate of speed. quinton continued to watch the approaching boat until the humped shoulders of a submarine-chaser were distinguishable through the spume. as the boats neared each other he gave a quick command to the engineer, and the speed of the motor-boat decreased. at the same moment the curtain of spray that screened the on-coming chaser died down, her fine and sinister lines becoming discernible. dexterously the helmsman brought the motor-boat alongside the larger vessel and, without a word there stepped on board a little man wearing motor-goggles and a red beard of rather truculent shape, and a naval commander whom the stranger introduced to quinton as commander ryles. with a nod to the man with the boathook, and a wave of his arm to those aboard the chaser, james grant took his seat together with commander ryles beside quinton, the motor-boat pushed off and, with a graceful sweep, turned her nose northwards and proceeded to run up her own track. grant and quinton continued to talk in undertones, grant asking questions, quinton answering with great economy of words and prodigious salivation. the chaser, steering a south-westerly course, was soon out of sight. as the motor-boat entered the little harbour, grant's eyes eagerly fixed themselves upon the _toronto_, seeming to take in every detail of her construction. "ready for the trial trip?" he enquired of quinton. "sure," was the reply as he spat over the side. "jim there?" quinton jerked his thumb in the direction of the _toronto_, for which the motor-boat was making. as they reached her the two men nimbly climbed up the side and, quinton leading, dived below to the office of works. as they entered blake was sitting exactly as quinton had left him an hour and a half previously. at the sight of grant his eyes seemed to flash; but he made no movement except to hold out his hand, which grant gripped. "through with everything?" he enquired, as he seated himself, and quinton threw himself on a locker. "sure," replied blake. "i----" began grant, then breaking off cast a swift look over his shoulder. blake nodded his head comprehendingly, whilst quinton spat in the direction of the door as if to defy eavesdroppers. from his pocket grant drew a map, which he proceeded to unfold upon the table. quinton walked across and the three bent over, studying it with absorbed interest. meanwhile commander ryles had been shown to his cabin. chapter xiii the disappearance of john dene "no more saturday afternoons for you and john dene, little mother," cried dorothy with forced gaiety as she rose from the breakfast table. mrs. west looked up quickly. "why?" she asked, a falter in her voice. "he's going away," announced dorothy indifferently, as she pinned on her hat. "to canada?" asked mrs. west anxiously. "no," replied dorothy in a toneless voice, "he's going away on business." "oh!" mrs. west's relief was too obvious for dissimulation. "he won't be back for months," continued dorothy relentlessly, "and i shall spend my time in counting my fingers and flirting with sir bridgman. good-byeeeeee," and brushing a kiss on her mother's cheek she was gone, leaving mrs. west puzzled, more by her manner than the announcement she had made. arrived at the office dorothy cleared up what remained of the previous night's work, ordered luncheon, tidied things generally, and then sat down to wait. from time to time she glanced at the watch upon her wrist, at first mechanically, then curiously, finally anxiously. for the last few days she had been more concerned than she was prepared to admit by john dene's strangeness of manner. she was hurt that he should now treat her as if she were a stranger, whereas hitherto he had been so confidential and friendly. womanlike she ascribed it to illness. he had been over-working. he was a man of such impulsive energy, so full of ideas, so impatient of delays. he seemed always to want to do everything at the moment he thought of it. incidentally he expected others to be imbued with his own vitality. he had worn himself out, she decided, or was it that he was being drugged? time after time the idea had suggested itself to her, only to be dismissed as melodramatic. sometimes there would cross her mind a suspicion so strange, so fantastic that she would brush it aside as utterly ridiculous. luncheon arrived and no john dene. dorothy made an indifferent meal. one o'clock passed, two o'clock came. she had visions of him lying in his room at the hotel too ill to summon assistance. she determined upon action and rang up the ritzton. to her enquiry as to whether or no mr. john dene were in came the reply that he was not. would they find out at what time he left the hotel? it was his secretary speaking. yes, they would if dorothy would hold on. at the end of what seemed an age came the reply: mr. john dene had left the hotel on the previous morning and had not since returned. with a clatter the receiver fell from dorothy's hand. it was something worse than illness then that had kept john dene from his office! this she saw clearly. probably he was lying dead in some out of the way spot, a victim of the hidden hand. she felt physically sick at the thought. he was such a splendid man, she told herself. ready to give everything for nothing. the sort of man that made for victory. suddenly she remembered the episode of the taxi on the previous evening and became galvanised to action. what a fool she had been. seizing the receiver of the private line to the admiralty, she demanded to be put through to mr. blair. presently she heard his mellow, patient voice. no, he had heard nothing of john dene, nor had he seen him for several days. there was a note of plaintive gratitude in mr. blair's voice; but dorothy was too worried to notice it. putting up the receiver, she snatched up her hat, jabbed the pins through it, one of them into her head, and almost throwing herself into her coat, dashed down the stairs and literally ran across waterloo place, down the duke of york's steps into the admiralty. she passed swiftly in and up to mr. blair's room, into which she burst with a lack of ceremony that convinced him she had already imbibed the qualities that made john dene the terror of his existence. "i want to see sir lyster at once," she panted. mr. blair looked up at her in surprise. "he's engaged just now, miss west," he said mildly. "is there anything i can do?" "it doesn't matter whether he's engaged, you must go into him at once, mr. blair, and tell him i must see him." mr. blair still continued to gaze at her with bovine wonder. "oh, you stupid creature!" dorothy stamped her foot in her impatience. then with a sudden movement she made for sir lyster's door, knocked and entered, leaving mr. blair gazing before him, marvelling that so short an association with john dene should have produced such startling results. however, it was for sir lyster to snub her now, and he resumed his work. sir lyster, sir bridgman north and admiral heyworth were bending over a table on which a large plan lay spread out. sir lyster was the first to look up; at the sight of the flushed and excited girl his gaze became fixed. sir bridgman and admiral heyworth followed the direction of his eyes to where dorothy stood with heaving breast and fear in her eyes. "mr. dene has disappeared!" she gasped without any preliminary apology. "the devil!" exclaimed sir bridgman. admiral heyworth jumped to his feet. sir bridgman rose and placed a chair for dorothy into which she sank. then she told her story, concluding with "it's all my fault for not doing something about the taxi." the three men listened without interruption. when she had concluded they looked anxiously from one to the other. it was sir bridgman who broke the silence. "we had better get walton here." sir lyster nodded and going to the door requested mr. blair to ask colonel walton to come round at once on a matter of importance. then it was that sir bridgman seemed to notice dorothy's excited state. with that courtesy that made him a great favourite with women, he poured out a glass of water from a carafe on a side table and handed it to her. with her eyes she thanked him. sir bridgman decided that she was an extremely pretty girl. the water seemed to co-ordinate dorothy's ideas. for the first time she appreciated that she had unceremoniously burst into the private room of the first lord of the admiralty. "i--i'm very sorry," she faltered, "but it seemed so important, and mr. blair wouldn't let me come in." sir lyster nodded his approval of her action. "you did quite right, miss----" "west," said dorothy. "miss west," continued sir lyster. "there are occasions when----" he hesitated for a word. "john dene's methods are best," suggested sir bridgman. sir lyster smiled; but there was no answering smile in dorothy's eyes. "what do you think has happened?" she asked, looking from one to the other. "it's impossible to say," began sir lyster, "it's--it's----" "spies," she said with a catch in her voice. "i'm sure of it. they've drugged him. they tried to poison our food." "poison your food," repeated sir lyster uncomprehendingly. "yes," said dorothy, and she proceeded to tell how it came about that the luncheon and dinners were supplied from an anonymous source. "that's walton," said admiral heyworth, and the other nodded. for a few minutes they sat in silence, all waiting for the arrival of colonel walton. when the telephone bell rang, sir lyster started perceptibly. taking up the receiver from the instrument he listened for a few seconds. "show him in," he said; then, turning to the others, he explained: "walton is out; but sage is here." "good," said sir bridgman, "sometimes jack is better than his master." sir lyster looked at him meaningly, and then at dorothy. with perfect self-possession malcolm sage entered, gave a short, jerky bow, and without invitation drew a chair up opposite to where dorothy was sitting. for a moment he gazed at her and saw the anxiety in her eyes. "don't be alarmed," he said quietly, "the situation is well in hand." there was the ghost of a smile about the corners of his mouth. "is he safe?" enquired dorothy, leaning forward, whilst the three men looked at sage as if not quite sure of his sanity. "i can only repeat what i have said," replied sage, "the situation is well in hand." "but how the devil----" began sir bridgman. "i should like to ask miss west a few questions," said sage. sir bridgman subsided. "why did you come here?" he asked, turning to dorothy. "mr. dene didn't come this morning. i waited until past two, then i rang up the ritzton," she paused. "go on," said sage. "they told me he had not been back since yesterday morning." "and then?" enquired sage. "i rang up mr. blair. he had heard nothing, so i thought i had better come round and--and--i'm afraid i burst in here very rudely. mr. blair----" "you did quite right, miss west," said sir lyster. "why didn't you act before?" dorothy felt sage's eyes were burning through her brain, so intent was his gaze. "i had forgotten about the taxi. i--i--thought he might be unwell," said dorothy. "why?" "well," she began, and then paused. "go on," said sage encouragingly. "he has seemed rather strange for some days," she said, "his memory was very bad. as a rule he has a wonderful memory, and never makes a note." "how was his memory bad?" "he seemed to forget what he had written, and was always having letters turned up." sage nodded. "go on," he said. "then," she continued, "he seemed to want always to put things off. he was undecided; so unlike his normal self. most of the things he asked me to attend to." "and that made you think he was ill," suggested sage. "yes," she said, "that and other things." "what other things?" dorothy screwed up her eyebrows, her head on one side, as if striving to find words to express what was in her mind. "his manner was strange," she began. "it is very difficult to give instances; but previously he had always been so pleasant and--and----" "unconscious of himself, shall we say?" suggested sage. "that's it," she said brightly. "he was just mr. dene. afterwards he seemed to be always watching me, as if not quite sure who i was. it was almost uncanny. i thought perhaps----" she hesitated. "what?" "that he was being drugged," she concluded reluctantly. "when did you first notice this?" "let me see," said dorothy. "this is tuesday. it was on thursday morning that i first noticed it. what struck me then was that he said, 'good morning' when he came in." "and what did he usually say?" enquired sage. "he used to say 'morning,' or what really sounded more like 'morn,'" she said with a smile. "thank you," said sage. "unless these gentlemen have any further questions to put to you, there is nothing more to be done at present." "but is he----" she began, then she paused. "i should not be unnecessarily alarmed, miss west, if i were you," said sage. "above all, keep your own counsel. mr. dene disapproves of people who talk." "i know," said dorothy, rising and drawing herself up with dignity. "i regard your prompt action as highly commendable, miss west," said sir lyster. "you will, of course, continue in attendance at the office until you hear further. if anything unusual transpires, please get into touch with me immediately, even to the extent of----" he paused a moment. "bursting in as you did just now," said sir bridgman with a laugh. "it's the real john dene manner." "exactly," said sir lyster. sir lyster conducted dorothy into mr. blair's room. "mr. blair," he said, "if miss west ever wishes to see me urgently, please tell me, no matter with whom i am engaged. if i do not happen to be in, sir bridgman will see her, or failing that get through to colonel walton, or to mr. sage." sir lyster bowed to dorothy and returned to his room. mr. blair blinked his eyes in bewilderment; the influence of john dene upon the british admiralty was most extraordinary. "i don't understand the drift of all your questions, mr. sage," said sir lyster, resuming his seat. malcolm sage turned his eyes upon the first lord. "i will explain that later, sir," he said, "but for the present i must ask your indulgence." "but----" began sir lyster. "i might advance a hundred theories; but until i am sure it would be better for me to keep silence. i must confer with my chief." sir bridgman nodded approval. "quite so," said sir lyster. "in the meantime what is to be done?" "raise the hue and cry," said sage quietly. "good god, man!" exclaimed sir bridgman. "it would give the whole game away." "i propose," said sage quietly, "that photographs of john dene be inserted in every paper in the kingdom, that every continental paper likewise has full particulars of his disappearance. that you offer a thousand pounds reward for news that will lead to his discovery, and go on increasing it by a thousand every day until it reaches ten thousand." malcolm sage paused; his three listeners stared at him as if he were out of his senses. "you seriously suggest this publicity?" enquired sir lyster in cold and even tones. "i do," said sage. "you know why mr. dene is here." "i do." "and yet you still advise this course?" asked sir lyster. "i do," responded sage. "well, i'm damned!" said sir bridgman. for a moment a flicker of a smile crossed malcolm sage's serious features. "what are your reasons?" demanded sir lyster. "my reasons are closely connected with my conclusions, sir, and at the present time they are too nebulous to express." "we will consider this," said sir lyster with an air of concluding the interview. malcolm sage rose. "the time is not one for consideration, sir," he said, "but for action. if you hesitate in this publicity, i must ask your permission to see the prime minister;" then with a sudden change of tone and speaking with an air of great seriousness he added, "this is a matter of vital importance. the announcement should be made in the late editions of all the evening papers, and the full story must appear in to-morrow's papers. there is not much time. have i your permission to proceed?" "no, sir, you have not," thundered sir lyster. "i shall report this matter to colonel walton." "that, sir, you are quite at liberty to do," said sage calmly. "incidentally you might report that i have resigned from my position at department z. i wish you good afternoon, gentlemen," and with that malcolm sage left the room. "good lord! grayne, you've done it now," said sir bridgman. "l. j. thinks the world of that chap." "he's a most impertinent fellow," said sir lyster with heat. "clever men frequently are," laughed sir bridgman. "it seems to me that everybody's getting under the influence of john dene. i suppose it's bolshevism," he muttered to himself. half an hour later colonel walton was seated in earnest conversation with mr. llewellyn john. "it's very awkward, very awkward," said mr. llewellyn john; "still, you must act along your own lines. it's no good creating a department and then allowing another department to dictate to it; but it's very awkward," he added. "it would be more awkward, sir, if sage were allowed to go," said colonel walton. "of course, of course," said mr. llewellyn john, "that's unthinkable. if i were only told," he muttered, "if i were only told. they keep so much from me." then after a pause he added, "i'm inclined to blame you, though, walton, for not--not----" mr. llewellyn john hesitated. "keeping john dene under proper observation," suggested colonel walton quietly. "exactly." mr. llewellyn john looked at him quickly. "he was always guarded." "then you----" began mr. llewellyn john. "our men were tricked." "tricked!" mr. llewellyn john looked startled. "yes," continued colonel walton. "mclean was on duty that night. immediately he saw john dene hail a taxi, he jumped into his own taxi; but he had hardly started when he was run into by a small runabout, and the other taxi got away." "but the number of----" "fictitious both, the taxi and the run-about. we thought it expedient not to detain the man who ran into mclean," colonel walton added. for nearly a minute mr. llewellyn john sat staring at the chief of department z. "it's most unfortunate, disastrous in fact," he said at length. "we must try and get into touch with auchinlech by wireless." "i'm afraid it will be useless," was the response. "there's the war cabinet to be considered," murmured mr. llewellyn john to himself. "the war does not----" he hesitated. "make men tractable," suggested colonel walton helpfully. "exactly," agreed mr. llewellyn john. "they may not take the same view as sir lyster and myself with regard to that memorandum of ours to dene. it's very awkward happening just now," he added, "with all this trouble about interning aliens." "what am i to do, sir? there is very little time." "do," said mr. llewellyn john, "why run your department in your own way, walton." "i have an absolutely free hand?" enquired colonel walton. "absolutely," said mr. llewellyn john; "but i wish you could tell me more." "to be quite frank, i'm as much in the dark as you are. sage is as obstinate as a pack-mule and as sure-footed. he's no respecter of----" "prime ministers or first lords," suggested mr. llewellyn john with a smile. "exactly." "well, go your own way," said mr. llewellyn john; "but i should like to know what it all means. frankly i'm puzzled. we are cut off entirely from auchinlech, and without john dene the _destroyer_ can't sail. we're losing valuable time. it's very unfortunate; it's a disaster, in fact. but," he burst out excitedly, "why on earth does sage want to advertise our anxiety as to dene's whereabouts? that's what puzzles me." "it puzzles me too, sir," said colonel walton quietly. "it's such a confession of weakness," continued mr. llewellyn john, "such a showing of our hand. what will people think when we offer ten thousand pounds for news of john dene of toronto?" "they'll probably think that he's an extremely valuable man," was the dry retort. "that's it exactly," said mr. llewellyn john, "and berlin will congratulate itself upon a master-stroke." colonel walton felt inclined to suggest that was exactly what malcolm sage seemed most to desire; but he refrained. "very well, walton, carry on," said mr. llewellyn john; "but frankly i don't like it," he added half to himself. colonel walton left no. , downing street, and ten minutes later malcolm sage withdrew his resignation. whilst department z. hummed and buzzed with energy, and men and women were coming and going continuously, dorothy sat at the window of john dene's room gazing out at a prospect of white enamelled bricks punctuated by windows. she had nothing to do. everything seemed so different. john dene's impulsive energy had vitalised all about him. now she felt as if all her faculties had suddenly wilted. in her own mind she was convinced that he was ill. she could not blot from her mind the strangeness of his manner during the last few days. his sudden loss of memory proved that he was unwell. for a man to forget where the postage stamps are kept, or the position in the room of the letter files, was, in itself, a proof that something very strange had suddenly come over him, the more so in the case of one who was almost aggressively proud of his memory. then there had been other little details. his movements did not seem the same, that jerkiness and sudden upward glance from his table had disappeared. it was as if he had been drugged. dorothy wondered if that really were the explanation. oh! but she was very miserable and horribly lonely. that night dorothy and her mother sat up long after midnight talking of john dene. to both had come the realisation that he stood to them in the light of an intimate friend. as she said "good night," mrs. west put her arm round dorothy's shoulders, and in a shaky voice said: "i don't think god would let anything happen to a good man like mr. dene;" and dorothy turned and left the room abruptly. chapter xiv the hue and cry the late editions of the evening papers contained no mention of the disappearance of john dene. for one thing much valuable time had been lost owing to the attitude of sir lyster grayne, for another, malcolm sage had decided to make a great display in the morning papers. all that afternoon department z. was feverishly busy. photographs of john dene had to be duplicated, and the story distributed through the press bureau, in order that it might possess an official character. on the morning following the discovery of john dene's disappearance, the british public was startled at its breakfast-table by an offer of £ , reward for details that would lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of one john dene, a citizen of toronto, canada, who had last been seen at p.m. on the previous monday outside his offices in waterloo place. the notice drawn up by department z. ran: missing £ , reward where is john dene of toronto? "on monday at p.m., mr. john dene, the well-known canadian inventor and engineer of toronto, left his offices in waterloo place, after bidding his secretary good night. since then a shroud of mystery seems to have enveloped his movements. ~his secretary becomes alarmed~ "his secretary, miss dorothy west, arrived at the office at the usual time on tuesday morning. mr. dene was most punctual in his habits, invariably reaching his office a few minutes after nine. miss west waited until two o'clock, then fearing that he might be ill, she rang through to the ritzton hotel, where mr. dene was staying. to her surprise she was informed that he had not returned to his hotel the night before. ~where is john dene of toronto?~ "miss west immediately got into communication with the head of a certain government department with which mr. dene was associated; but nothing was known of his whereabouts. the authorities have reason to believe that mr. dene has been spirited away by some organisation that has a special object in view. ~is it foul play?~ "a reward of £ , will be paid to anyone who will give such information as will lead directly to the discovery of mr. john dene's whereabouts. it may be added that mr. dene is a distinguished engineer and inventor, and it is the duty of every citizen of the british empire to endeavour to assist the authorities in tracing the missing man. ~this is what he is like.~ "the following is a description of mr. john dene:--height ft. ins. clean shaven with grey eyes and a determined expression, invariably carried a cigar in his mouth, very frequently unlighted. has a peculiar habit of twisting and twirling the cigar in his mouth. thick set with keen, rather jerky movements, and a habit of looking at people suddenly and piercingly. a square jaw and tightly closed lips. when last seen was wearing a dark grey tweed suit, trilby hat, dark blue tie and brown boots. spoke with a marked canadian accent. "all communications should be addressed to scotland yard, s.w." in addition to the foregoing semi-official particulars, there followed much information that had been gleaned by various reporters. most of the papers gave a leader, and several hinted at the hidden hand, urging that this new outrage obviously pointed to the necessity for the internment of all aliens. great emphasis was laid upon the importance of tracing the present whereabouts of john dene of toronto, and anyone who had seen a man at all answering to his description, was called upon to communicate with scotland yard. the afternoon papers contained practically the same information, but elaborated and adorned. several hinted at the fact that john dene had come to england with a new invention of great importance, and that he had disappeared just on the eve of the fruition of his schemes, with the result that everything was at a stand-still. in support of this theory the writers pointed to the amount of the reward. ten thousand pounds would not have been offered, they argued, unless there were good reasons for it. one paper went so far as to suggest that the government itself was offering the reward, although in its next issue it apologised for and contradicted the statement--this was a little stroke of malcolm sage's. dorothy was besieged by interviewers, until at last she was forced to refrain from answering the succession of knocks at the outer door. her head was in a whirl. the prevailing topic of conversation was the disappearance of john dene. everybody was asking why such a reward had been offered. shoals of letters descended upon scotland yard. hundreds of callers lined up in a queue, waiting their turn to be interviewed. telegrams rained in from the provinces. apparently john dene had been seen in places as far distant as st. andrews and bournemouth, aberystwyth and king's lynn. he had been observed in conversation with men, women and children, some of harmless, some of sinister appearance. he had been seen in trains, 'buses, trams and cars. he had been seen perturbed and calm, hastening and loitering, in uniform and in mufti. scotland yard was almost out of its mind, and the officer in charge of the john dene investigation rang through to malcolm sage, demanding what the funny peter he was to do with the enormous correspondence, and the bewildering queue that already stretched along the embankment halfway to charing cross railway-bridge. "burn the telegrams and letters and tell the queue to write," was sage's laconic response, as he put up the receiver, whereat the officer had sworn heavily into the mouth-piece of the instrument. the chief commissioner was particularly annoyed because all his own correspondence had been engulphed in the epistolary flood, and he was expecting a letter from his wife telling him where to meet her on the following day on her return from a motor tour. those who knew lady wrayle understood the chief commissioner's anxiety. all day long scotland yard worked in a conscientious endeavour to sift the mass of evidence that streamed in upon it from all parts of the kingdom. some of the stories to which weary but patient officials listened were grotesque in the extreme. as the chief expressed it, "half the idiots and all the damned fools in the country are descending upon us." the callers were interesting as studies in obtuseness and optimism; but they were as nothing to the telegrams. one man wired from st. andrews that he was tracking a strange man round the golf course, would scotland yard telegraph a warrant for his arrest? another enquired if the reward would be in cash or war bonds, and if the government guaranteed the money--this man telegraphed from aberdeen. several asked for railway warrants to london that they might lay certain facts before the authorities. scores telegraphed for photographs, as the pictures in the papers were indistinct. one lady telegraphed from suffolk that a man with a beard identical with that worn by john dene in the picture in _the daily photo_ had that day come to her door begging. the telegrams were, however, nothing to the letters that followed them. the lady who had telegraphed about a bearded john dene, wrote to apologise for her mistake, explaining it by saying that the paper boy must have accidentally rubbed the paper before delivering it. she was not to be denied, however, and went on to say that she thought the picture strangely like the man who had begged of her. did scotland yard think that john dene had disguised himself with a false beard? some correspondents wrote bitterly censuring the government for not interning all aliens, for allowing john dene out of its sight, for an imperialistic policy, for plunging the country into war, for offering the reward, and for a thousand and one other irrelevant things. the one thing that no one did was to supply any information that would be remotely useful to the authorities in tracing the missing man. people waited eagerly for the morrow's papers. they contained another surprise, this time in the form of a two column advertisement, offering £ , for information that would lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of john dene. clearly somebody was determined that john dene should be found. when mr. llewellyn john opened the first morning paper he picked up from the pile awaiting him he gasped. himself a great believer in the possibilities of the press, he felt, nevertheless, that department z. was overdoing things, and he telephoned for its chief and malcolm sage to call upon him at ten o'clock. at two minutes to ten, the two presented themselves at no. , downing street, and were immediately shown into the presence of the prime minister. "has it struck you," asked mr. llewellyn john, indicating one of the advertisements, "that questions will be asked in the house as to whether or no the government is offering these large rewards?" "i should think it highly probable, sir," was sage's response. "and what are we to say?" demanded mr. llewellyn john. he was a keen politician, and saw that the situation might be fraught with considerable difficulties. "acknowledge that they are, sir," was the response. "acknowledge it!" cried mr. llewellyn john. "certainly, sir." "mr. sage," said mr. llewellyn john severely, "you do not appear to appreciate that this may seriously compromise the government." then turning to colonel walton he continued: "hitherto you have been given a free hand, now i must ask you to explain why you are offering these large rewards. you first of all suggested £ , , rising daily from £ , to £ , . in two days it has amounted to £ , ." "it won't rise any higher, sir. it has reached the limit." "that is not the point," said mr. llewellyn john. "i want to know why it is that you are advertising to germany that we want john dene. it is an obvious confession of weakness." he made a quick nervous movement with his right hand, he was far from easy in his mind. malcolm sage continued to examine his finger-nails with great intentness. seeing that he made no indication of replying, mr. llewellyn john continued: "i'm afraid that this cannot go on." there was a suggestion of irritability in his voice. "then have it stopped, sir," said sage calmly, still intent upon the finger-nails of his right hand. "the mischief is done," said mr. llewellyn john. "what is at the back of your mind, sage?" he demanded. "i'm working on a hypothesis, sir," was the reply. "i think i'm right, in fact i'm convinced of it; but until i know for certain, i must keep my theories to myself. if you wish it, i'll tell you what i actually know; but i make it a rule never to air theories." mr. llewellyn john smiled. "well, tell me what you actually know then," he said. "when mr. dene left his office at three minutes past six on monday evening, he stood for nearly a minute, as if making up his mind in what direction to go. just as he was about to turn and walk up regent street a taxi crawled past him. the driver spoke to him and john dene got in and drove away." "kidnapped!" exclaimed mr. llewellyn john. malcolm sage shrugged his shoulders. "in which direction did he drive?" enquired mr. llewellyn john eagerly. "along pall mall, sir," was the reply. "colonel walton told you what happened?" mr. llewellyn john nodded. "and have you informed the police?" he asked. malcolm sage shook his head. "why?" enquired mr. llewellyn john eagerly. "if my theory is right," said sage, "it's unnecessary. if my theory's wrong, it's useless. believe me, sir, our best course is to continue to boom john dene's disappearance for all we are worth." "but the _destroyer_!" exclaimed mr. llewellyn john excitedly. "you know the conditions, sir, that the island of auchinlech was to be left severely alone for four months." "do you imagine that dene slipped off to the north to trick the germans?" "that wouldn't trick them, sir," said malcolm sage quietly. "john dene would never have been allowed to reach auchinlech alive. that was settled. i may add that i have every reason to believe that the taxi and its occupant did not go fifty miles from london." "and that he is a prisoner?" mr. llewellyn john jumped from his chair. malcolm sage inclined his head in the affirmative. "good heavens!" exclaimed mr. llewellyn john, "we must----" "depend entirely upon the advertisements," said sage, rising. "you will of course regard this as strictly confidential, and to be told to no one. i cannot tell you how important it is." there was an unaccustomed note of seriousness in sage's voice, which did not fail to impress mr. llewellyn john. "but the questions in the house as to why we are offering this reward?" persisted mr. llewellyn john. "what reply are we to make?" "you might fall back on the old cliché, sir: 'wait and see.'" mr. llewellyn john smiled. "that phrase," continued sage, "was a great asset to one party, why should it not be to another?" "look at this." mr. llewellyn john held out a slip of paper, which colonel walton took and read aloud. "has the attention of the home secretary been drawn to a statement in _the tribune_ to the effect that it is the government that is offering the reward of £ , for information that will lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of mr. john dene of toronto, and if so can it justify the offer of so large a sum of public money?" "they haven't lost any time," remarked sage quietly. "they never do." there was an unaccustomed note of irascibility in mr. llewellyn john's voice. "these questions are a scandal." "except when one happens to be in opposition, sir," said sage, apparently absorbed in examining the nails of his left hand. mr. llewellyn john made no response, and colonel walton handed back to him the slip, which he tossed upon the table. "well," he demanded, looking from colonel walton to sage, "what are we to reply?" "the answer is in the affirmative, sir," said malcolm sage. for a moment mr. llewellyn john looked at him, frowning, then he broke into a smile. "that's all very well, sage, but it's not sufficient." "if i may venture a suggestion----" began sage. "do--do, that's why i sent for you--both," he added, as if in deference to colonel walton. "i would say that for reasons not unconnected with the prosecution of the war, the discovery of mr. john dene's whereabouts is imperative." "but that would be giving us away more than ever." "i think it would be desirable to temporise," said sage. mr. llewellyn john made a movement of impatience. "you might reply that it is not in the public interest to answer the question," continued sage. "but that would be tantamount to acknowledging that we are offering the reward," said mr. llewellyn john with a suspicion of irritation in his voice. malcolm sage looked at him steadily, but without speaking. "there will inevitably be other questions arising out of this," continued mr. llewellyn john. "i was going to suggest, sir, that if we could arrange for some newspaper to make a definite statement that the government is offering the reward, we could prosecute it under d.o.r.a." for fully a minute mr. llewellyn john gazed at malcolm sage, as if not quite sure of his sanity. "but," he began, and then broke off, looking helplessly across at colonel walton. "of course, sir, i'll relinquish the enquiry if you wish it." "this is not the time to talk of relinquishing anything, sage," said mr. llewellyn john with some asperity in his tone. "what i want to know is what all this means." "that's exactly what i'm endeavouring to discover," said sage evenly. "if i were a stage detective, i should be down on my knees smelling your carpet, or examining pall mall with a strong lens; but i'm not. i never carry a magnifying-glass and i know nothing about finger-prints. the solving of mysteries, like the detection of crime, is invariably due to a mistake on the part of somebody who ought not to have made a mistake." "then tell me how far you have got." mr. llewellyn john glanced across to colonel walton, and was conscious of a slight knitting of his brows, then he looked back again at malcolm sage, who for some moments remained silent. "if you were uncertain of my sanity, sir," said sage quietly, "would you discuss the matter with others, or would you first assure yourself of the accuracy of your suspicions?" he looked up suddenly, straight into mr. llewellyn john's eyes. "we all know you are hopelessly and irretrievably mad, sage," said mr. llewellyn john with a smile. "when i know definitely what has become of john dene, i'll tell you, sir," said sage. "i'm not spectacular, sir. i can't deduce bigamy from a bootlace, or murder from a meringue. i can tell you this, however"--he paused and both his listeners leaned forward eagerly--"that if my hypothesis is correct, the policy to pursue is to magnify the importance of john dene's disappearance. incidentally," he added, "it might result in mr. john dene revising his opinion of the incapacity of british officialdom." "then you refuse to tell me?" "it would be highly injudicious on my part to tell you of a mere suspicion which might----" malcolm sage lifted his eye from the nail of his left thumb, and looked straight at mr. llewellyn john--"which might dictate your policy, sir." "but the time we are wasting," protested mr. llewellyn john, rising and pacing up and down impatiently. "nothing is lost that's wrought with tears, sir," was the enigmatical response. "sage," said mr. llewellyn john, as he shook hands with malcolm sage, "you're the most pig-headed official in the british empire. chappeldale can be tiresome; but you're nothing short of an inconvenience. mind, walton," he continued, turning to the chief of department z., "i shall hold you responsible for sage. if he lets me down over this dene business, i shall lose faith in department z." the smile that accompanied his words, however, robbed them of any sting they might have contained. "why don't you take the skipper into your confidence, sage?" enquired walton, as they walked towards the duke of york's steps. "vanity, chief, sheer vanity," was the response. "we have never failed him yet, and if i started barking up the wrong tree, he'd never again have confidence in department z. i suppose," he added irrelevantly, "that some day we shall be taken over altogether by the colonies. it would not be a bad thing for the british empire, either. john dene might be our first president." there was one man who was deeply thankful for the disappearance of john dene. mr. blair went about as if he had received a new lease of life. he became almost sprightly in his demeanour, and no longer looked up apprehensively when the door of his room opened. sir bridgman north commented on the circumstance to sir lyster grayne and, as he passed through mr. blair's room, openly taxed him with being responsible for the kidnapping of john dene. mr. blair smiled a little wearily; for to him john dene was no matter for joking. when mr. mcshane's question with regard to the disappearance of john dene came up for answer, the home secretary replied that for the present at least it was not in the public interest to give the information required. "that's tantamount to an acknowledgment," cried mr. mcshane, springing to his feet. "it's a scandal that public money----" he got no further, as at this point he was called to order by the speaker. it was clear that the house was not satisfied. in the lobbies mr. mcshane's question and the answer given were discussed to an extent out of all proportion to their apparent importance. the feeling seemed to be that if john dene were of such value to the government, he should have been guarded with a care that would have prevented the possibility of his disappearance. if on the other hand the government had no interest in the enormous reward offered for information concerning him, then a statement to that effect should have been made. whatever the facts, the government was obviously in the wrong. that was the general impression. the next day several newspapers commented very strongly upon the incident. there seemed to be a determination on the part of the press to make an "affaire john dene" out of the canadian's disappearance. the government was attacked for adopting german bureaucratic methods. "a dark age of bureaucracy is settling down upon the country," said _the morning age_. "the real danger of prussianism is not military, but bureaucratic." the government was called upon to lift the curtain of mystery with which it had surrounded itself. if it were responsible for the rewards offered, then let it say so. if, however, these rewards were in no way connected with the government, then a denial should immediately be made. at the moment everybody regarded the government as responsible for the tremendous press campaign resulting from john dene's disappearance. malcolm sage read the newspapers with obvious relish. mr. llewellyn john, on the other hand, frowned heavily at finding his administration attacked. the home secretary rang up the deputy-commissioner at scotland yard, telling him that something must be done, and the deputy-commissioner had replied with some heat that if the home secretary would step across to the yard, he would see what actually was being done. he further intimated that the whole work of the yard had been disorganised. the prime minister sent over for colonel walton. "look here, walton," he cried as the chief of department z. entered the room. "this affair is getting rather out of hand, and it looks dangerous. you've seen the papers?" colonel walton nodded. he was a man to whom words came with difficulty. "well, i don't like the look of it," continued mr. llewellyn john. "sir roger has just rung through that he's been urging scotland yard to greater efforts." "they can do no harm," remarked colonel walton drily. "i want sage to go round and see the deputy-commissioner." "i doubt if he'll do it," was the grim response. "not do it!" cried mr. llewellyn john, with a note of anger in his voice. "in fact, i'm quite sure he won't." "if you tell him that those are my instructions----" began mr. llewellyn john. "it's no use, sir, he'll merely resign. he's as independent as an american boot-boy." mr. llewellyn john flopped down in a chair, and sat gazing at colonel walton. "but he's got us into this muddle," he began. "i've never known sage's judgment at fault yet," replied colonel walton. "then you advise----" began mr. llewellyn john. "i never venture to advise," was the reply. "now look here, walton," said mr. llewellyn john persuasively, "this is a very serious matter. it has already been magnified out of all proportion to its actual importance. i want to know what you would do if you were in my place." "exactly as sage advises," was the terse response. "why, you're as bad as he is," grumbled mr. llewellyn john. "still, i suppose i must do as you suggest. i don't like the look of things, however. it's invariably the neglected trifle that wrecks a government." the mysterious disappearance of john dene was made the subject of special consideration at a meeting of the war cabinet. it was urged that the curious nature of the circumstances exonerated the prime minister and the first lord of the admiralty from the personal pledge they had given to john dene, and that it was a matter of vital national importance that the _destroyer_ should be put into commission with the least possible delay. mr. llewellyn john looked interrogatingly across at sir lyster grayne, who shook his head decisively. "we have given a personal pledge," he said, "under no circumstances whatever to communicate or endeavour to communicate other than by wireless with the island of auchinlech for the period of four months from the date of our undertaking. the words 'under no circumstances whatever' admit of only one interpretation." "but," protested sir roger flynn, the home secretary, "mr. dene could not have foreseen his own disappearance. circumstances surely alter the aspect of the case," he urged. "if you, flynn, were to promise under no circumstances to move from this room, then fire or flood would not justify you in breaking that promise," said sir lyster with decision. he was notorious for his punctiliousness in matters of personal honour. "what was possible to the roman sentry is imperative with responsible ministers," he added. mr. llewellyn john nodded, and made a mental note of the phrase. "besides," continued sir lyster, "mr. dene was particularly emphatic on this point. i recall his saying to the prime minister, 'when i say under no circumstances, i mean under no circumstances,' and he went on to expound his interpretation of the phrase." "but," persisted sir roger, "if the majority of the war cabinet take the opposite view, then you and the prime minister would be absolved from your promise." "nothing can absolve a man from his personal pledge," was sir lyster's calm retort. "he can be outvoted politically; but he has always his alternative, resignation." mr. llewellyn john looked up quickly. "i think," he said, "that grayne is right. nothing can absolve us from our pledge." "the point is," said sir roger, "what is happening at auchinlech?" he fixed an almost accusing eye upon sir lyster grayne, who merely shook his head with the air of one who has been asked an insoluble conundrum. "here we are," continued sir roger indignantly, "with a weapon that would exercise a considerable effect in bringing victory nearer, debarred from using it because-- "the prime minister has given his word," interpolated sir lyster quietly. sir roger glared at him. "death nullifies a contract of this description," retorted sir roger. "but the prime minister is not yet dead," said sir lyster drily. mr. llewellyn john started slightly. he did not like these references to death and resignation. "in law----" began sir roger. "this is not a matter of law, but of a private promise." sir lyster was insistent. "i think, gentlemen, you are looking at it from different points of view," interrupted mr. llewellyn john with a tactful smile. "let us hope that mr. john dene will be found. if it can be proved he is dead, then we shall be fully justified in sending to auchinlech, acquainting his second-in-command with what has happened, and instructing him to assume command of the _destroyer_ in accordance with mr. dene's wishes." the matter was then dropped, although it was clear that the members of the war cabinet were not at one on the subject either of john dene or his disappearance. the home secretary promised personally to urge the police to greater efforts. slowly and with infinite labour scotland yard sifted the enormous volume of evidence that poured in upon it, proving conclusively that john dene had been seen in every part of the united kingdom, not to mention a number of places on the continent. police officers swore and perspired as they strove to grapple with this enormous problem. night and day they worked with the frenzy of despair. they cursed the war, they cursed the colonies, they cursed john dene. why had he not stayed in toronto and disappeared there, if he must disappear anywhere. why had he come to london to drive to desperation an already over-worked department? one thing that the police found particularly embarrassing was that constables were constantly being called upon, by enthusiastic and excited members of the public, to arrest inoffensive citizens on the suspicion of their being john dene of toronto. in some instances the constables would point out that no resemblance existed; but the invariable reply was that the object of suspicion was disguised. all these false scents were duly reported to headquarters through the local police-stations, with no other result than to increase the sultriness of the atmosphere at scotland yard. an elaborate description of john dene was sent to every coroner and mortuary-attendant in the country. the river police were advised to keep a sharp look-out for floating bodies. in its heart of hearts scotland yard yearned to discover proof of the death of john dene, whilst all the time it worked steadily through the deluge of correspondence, and listened patiently to the testimonies of the avaricious optimists who were convinced that they, and they alone, could supply the necessary information that would lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of john dene, and transfer to themselves the not inconsiderable sum of £ , . "if ever another blighter comes from toronto," remarked detective-inspector crabbett, as he mopped his brow, "it would be worth while for the yard to subscribe £ , for him to disappear quietly." having thus relieved his feelings he plunged once more into the opening of letters, letters that convinced him that the whole population of great britain and ireland had gone suddenly mad. articles appeared in many of the german newspapers upon the subject of the mysterious disappearance of john dene. a great point was made of the fact that he was an inventor, and was known to be in close touch with the british war chiefs. emphasis was laid upon the extraordinary efforts being made to discover his whereabouts. "it is inconceivable," said the _koelnische zeitung_, "that the anxiety of the relatives of the missing man could have prompted them to offer a reward of , marks for news of his whereabouts, and that _within two days of his disappearance_. imagine a private citizen in germany being absent from home for two days, and his friends offering this colossal reward for news of him. what would be said?" the writer went on to point out that behind this almost hysterical anxiety of the english to find john dene lay a mystery that, whatever its solution might be, _was certainly not detrimental to german interests_. the _vorwärts_ hinted darkly at something more than john dene having disappeared, a something that was so embarrassing the british authorities, as to be likely to have a very serious influence upon the conduct of the war. the _berliner tageblatt_ openly stated that the british admiralty was offering the reward, and left its readers to draw their own conclusions. "victory," it concluded, "is not always won with machine-guns and high-explosive. fitness to win means something more than well-trained battalions and valiant soldiers; it means a perfect organisation in every department of the great game of war; violence, bluff and intrigue. the country with the best-balanced machinery was the country that would win, because it was _fit_ to win." in germany, where everybody does everything at the top of his voice, italics are very popular. an excitable people think and live italics, and a daily newspaper either reflects its public or ceases to be. with great tact the paris papers limited themselves to the "news" element in john dene's disappearance, reproducing his portrait, with the details translated from the london dailies. the neutral press was frankly puzzled. those favourable to germany saw in this incident a presage of victory for the fatherland; whilst the pro-allies journals hinted at the fact that someone had blundered in giving such publicity to an event that should have been regarded as a subject for the consideration of the war cabinet rather than for the daily press. chapter xv mr. llewellyn john becomes alarmed i mr. llewellyn john was obviously troubled. with the forefinger of his right hand he tapped the table meditatively as he gazed straight in front of him. the disappearance of john dene was proving an even greater source of embarrassment to the war cabinet than the internment of aliens. the member of parliament who translated his duty to his constituents into asking as many awkward questions as possible of the government, found a rich source of inspiration in the affaire john dene. mr. llewellyn john disliked questions; but never had he shown so whole-hearted an antipathy for interrogation as in the case of john dene. the fact of the home secretary being responsible for the answers constituted an additional embarrassment, as sir roger flynn was frankly critical of his chief in regard to the disappearance of john dene. he had not been consulted in the matter of offering a reward, as he should have been, and he was piqued. his answers to the questions that seemed to rain down upon him from all parts of the house were given in anything but a conciliatory tone, and the method he adopted of "dispatching them in batches like rebels," as mr. chappeldale put it, still further alienated from the government the sympathy of the more independent members. in this mr. llewellyn john saw a smouldering menace that might at any time burst into flame. he had come to wish with deep-rooted earnestness that sir roger flynn would take a holiday. he had even gone to the length of suggesting that the home secretary was not looking altogether himself; but sir roger had not risen to the bait. "ah! here you are," cried mr. llewellyn john with a smile, that in no way mirrored the state of his feelings, as sir roger entered, and with a nod dropped into a chair. "eight more questions on the paper," he said grimly. "i suppose you appreciate the seriousness of it all." "what would you suggest doing?" enquired mr. llewellyn john tactfully. "get a new lock for the stable door now the horse is gone," was the uncompromising retort. "i've asked colonel walton to step round," said mr. llewellyn john, ignoring his colleague's remark. "it's all that fellow sage," grumbled sir roger. "i went round to see him yesterday, and he was as urbane as a money-lender." "but surely you wouldn't quarrel----" "i always quarrel with a fool who doesn't see the consequences likely to arise out of his folly," said sir roger. "if he would only play golf," murmured mr. llewellyn john plaintively. "he'd resign at the first green because someone had shouted 'fore.' the man's a freak!" sir roger was very downright this morning. "i wish we had a few more of the same sort," was mr. llewellyn john's smiling rejoinder. sir roger grumbled something in his throat. malcolm sage was too often in antagonism with his department for the home secretary to contemplate with anything but alarm a multiplicity of sages. mr. llewellyn john, who deeply commiserated with those heads of departments who had suffered from malcolm sage's temperament, was always anxious to keep him from coming into direct touch with other ministers: the invariable result was a protest from the minister, and resignation from malcolm sage. once he had been summoned before the war cabinet to expound and explain a certain rather complicated enquiry in connection with a missing code-book. before he had been in the room five minutes he had resigned. at scotland yard he was known as "sage and onions," the feebleness of the _jeu d'esprit_ being to some extent mitigated by the venom with which it was uttered. nothing short of the anti-criminal traditions of the yard had saved malcolm sage from assassination at the hands of its outraged officials. his indifference was to them far more galling than contempt. he seemed sublimely unconscious of the fact that he was not popular with the police officials, a circumstance that merely added to the dislike with which he was regarded. there was much to be said for scotland yard, which was called upon to carry out instructions from "a pack of blinking amachoors," as one of sage's most pronounced antagonists had phrased it. added to which was the fact that they were dealing with a man who seemed entirely unable to discriminate between courtesy and venomous hatred. like the german nation, the officials discovered that there was little virtue in a hymn of hate that was not recognised as such. "it's no good scrapping a man because he doesn't keep to your own time-table," said mr. llewellyn john, mentally making a note of the phrase for future use. sir roger had remarked that the prime minister lay awake half the night coining phrases which would not win the war. "this john dene has caused more trouble at the home office than all the rest of the war put together." sir roger was obviously in a bad temper. "we must learn to think imperially, my dear flynn." the home secretary made a movement of impatience. "there'll be murder at scotland yard one of these days," he announced. "that fellow sage goads the officials there to madness." "and yet he's so popular with his own men," said mr. llewellyn john. "at department z. they would do anything for him." "well, i wish they'd do it and keep him there." whilst mr. llewellyn john and sir roger flynn were discussing department z., colonel walton was seated at his table drawing diagrams upon the blotting paper, and malcolm sage sat opposite, engaged in the never-ending examination of his finger-nails. "the skipper's got the wind up, sage," said colonel walton. "i expected as much." "i've got to go round there in a quarter of an hour. sir roger's trying to force his hand." "let him," said malcolm sage. colonel walton shook his head with a smile. "that's all very well, sage; but it isn't the language of diplomacy." "ours isn't the department of diplomacy, chief. why not promise him something dramatic in a few weeks' time? that's bound to appeal to him." for a moment a fugitive smile flittered across sage's features. "i think," he added, "we shall surprise him." "in the meantime we must be diplomatic," said colonel walton. "that's why i'm not taking you with me this morning." "you think i'd resign," queried sage with an odd movement at the corners of his mouth. "i'm sure of it," was the response, as colonel walton rose. "i suppose you know," he continued, "that scotland yard is absolutely congested. you can have no idea of what sir roger said when i met him in whitehall yesterday." "if it's anything at all like what comes through to me----" and malcolm sage shrugged his shoulders. ten minutes later colonel walton was shown into mr. llewellyn john's room. "ah! here you are," cried mr. llewellyn john, as he motioned colonel walton to a seat. "is there any news?" "none, sir," was the response. "this is getting very serious, walton," said mr. llewellyn john, "something really must be done." "have you tried scotland yard, sir?" asked colonel walton evenly, looking across at sir roger, who made a movement as if to speak, but evidently thought better of it. "i didn't mean that as a rebuke, walton," said mr. llewellyn john diplomatically. "but this john dene business is really most awkward. scotland yard has apparently been entirely disorganised through your advertisements, and sir roger has just been telling me that there are eight more questions down on the paper for to-day. every day the admiralty endeavours to call up auchinlech by wireless," continued mr. llewellyn john, "but they can get no response." "the thing is, where is john dene?" demanded sir roger, speaking for the first time, and looking at colonel walton, as if he suspected him of having the missing man secreted about his person. "i think the popular conception of the detective is responsible for all the trouble," said colonel walton quietly, looking from sir roger to the prime minister. "what do you mean?" demanded sir roger. "i think sage expressed it fairly accurately," continued colonel walton, "when he said that if a man disappears, or a criminal is wanted, the detective is always expected to produce him as a conjurer does a guinea-pig out of a top hat." "it isn't that," said mr. llewellyn john irritably. "it's the reward that's causing all the trouble." "what is the detective for if it's not to solve mysteries?" demanded sir roger aggressively. "i think that is a question for scotland yard, sir," said colonel walton. sir roger flushed angrily, and was about to speak when mr. llewellyn john stepped into the breach. "you know, walton, we have to consider the political aspect," he said. "what is department z.'s conception of the detective then?" demanded sir roger. "to watch for the other side's mistakes and take advantage of them," was the reply, "just as in politics," with a smile at mr. llewellyn john. mr. llewellyn john nodded agreement. "you remember the winthorpe murder case, sir roger?" "i do," said the home secretary. "there scotland yard tracked a man who had been three weeks at large. he made the mistake of calling somewhere for his washing, and the police had been watching the place for three weeks." "that's all very well," said sir roger, obviously annoyed. "but you must remember, colonel walton, that this john dene business has a political significance. it's--it's embarrassing the government." "but while they are worrying about that," remarked colonel walton imperturbably, "they're dropping the 'intern all aliens' cry." mr. llewellyn john smiled. "i'm convinced," he said, "that there's quite a large section of the public that would like me to intern everybody whose name is not smith, brown, jones or robinson." "or sage," suggested colonel walton slyly. "sage!" cried mr. llewellyn john, "he ought to be in the tower. but seriously, walton. what i want to know is how long this will last?" "in all probability until the full four months have expired," was the rejoinder. "good heavens!" cried mr. llewellyn john in consternation. "i should not be alarmed, sir, if i were you," said colonel walton with a smile. "the public will soon get another cry. sage suggests they may possibly hang an ex-minister." mr. llewellyn john laughed. colonel walton's reference was to a previous prime minister who on one occasion had enquired of a distinguished general if he had ever contemplated the effect on the public of the possibility of great britain losing the war. "they'd hang you, sir," the general had replied, leaning forward and tapping the then prime minister on the knee with an impressive forefinger. for a few moments there was silence, broken at length by sir roger. "but that does not relieve my congested department," he said complainingly. "i'm afraid," said colonel walton, turning to mr. llewellyn john, "that it's impossible for department z. to work along any but its own lines. if sage and i do not possess the confidence of the war cabinet, may i suggest that we be relieved of our duties." "good heavens, walton!" cried mr. llewellyn john. "surely you're not going to start resigning." "in the light of sir roger's remark, it's the only course open for me," was the dignified retort, as colonel walton rose. "no, no," murmured mr. llewellyn john, looking across at the home secretary. "you must remember, walton, that sir roger has had a very trying time owing to--to these--advertisements, and--and----" he paused and again he looked expectantly at sir roger, who seemed engrossed in fingering the lower button of his waistcoat. "neither sage nor i have any desire to embarrass you or the home secretary," continued colonel walton, "but----" "i'm sure of it, walton, i'm sure of it, and so is sir roger." again mr. llewellyn john looked across at his colleague who, seeming to lose interest in his lower waistcoat button, suddenly looked up. "the question is, how long is this to continue?" he asked. for some moments colonel walton did not reply. he appeared to be weighing something in his mind. "we're up against the cleverest organisation in the world," he said at length, "and sage believes that a single man controls the lot." "nonsense!" broke in sir roger. "this spy craze is pure imagination." "in any case it causes the war cabinet a great amount of concern," said mr. llewellyn john drily. "i think," proceeded colonel walton, "that before the expiration of the four months stipulated for by john dene, department z. will have justified itself." "how?" demanded sir roger. "i can say nothing more," said colonel walton, moving towards the door, "at present." "well, carry on, walton," said mr. llewellyn john and, with a wave of his hand, "and good luck." "those two men have megalomania in its worst possible form," growled sir roger, as he too rose to take his departure. "well, if they don't make good on this," said mr. llewellyn john, "you can decide whether or not their resignations be accepted." with a nod sir roger left the room, conscious that he had to explain to the permanent officials at the home office why department z. was still in being. ii during the weeks that followed the disappearance of john dene, a careful observer of apthorpe road could not have failed to observe the trouble that it was apparently giving the local authorities. a fatality seemed to brood over this unfortunate thoroughfare. first of all the telephone mains seemed to go wrong. workmen came, and later there arrived a huge roll of lead-covered cable. labour was scarce, and never did labourers work less industriously for their hire. on the morning after the arrival of the men, mr. montagu naylor paused at the spot where they were working, and for a minute or two stood watching them with interest. was there any danger of the telephone system being interrupted? no, the cable was being laid as a precaution. the existing cable was showing faults. mr. naylor passed on his way, and from time to time would exchange greetings with the men. they were extremely civil fellows, he decided. mr. naylor felt very english. the telephone men had not completed their work when the water-main, as if jealous of the care and attention being lavished upon a rival system, developed some strange and dangerous symptoms, involving the picking up of the road. again mr. naylor showed interest, and learned that the water pressure was not all that it should be in the neighbourhood, and it was thought that some foreign substance had got into the pipes. just as the watermen were preparing to pack up and take a leisurely departure, two men, their overalls smeared and spotted with red-lead, arrived at the end of the street with a hand-barrow. in due course a cutting of some fifteen or twenty feet was made in the roadway, and the reek of stale gas assailed the nostrils of the passer-by. obviously some shadow of misfortune brooded over apthorpe road, for no sooner were these men beginning to pack up their tools, than the road-men arrived, with a full-blooded steam-roller, bent upon ploughing up and crushing down apthorpe road to a new and proper symmetry. in short the thoroughfare in which mr. montagu naylor lived seemed never to be without workmen by day, and by night watchmen to protect municipal property from depredation. "i'm not so sure," remarked malcolm sage to thompson who had entered his room soon after colonel walton had gone to pay his call at , downing street, "that the ménage naylor isn't a subject for investigation by the food controller." thompson grinned. "eighty pounds of potatoes seems to be a generous week's supply for three people." "and other things to match, sir," said thompson with another grin. "haricot beans, cabbage, they're nuts on cabbage, salad and all sorts of things that are not rationed. i think it must be diabetes," he added with another grin. "possibly, thompson, possibly," said malcolm sage; "but in the meantime we will assume other explanations. some people eat more than others. for instance, the german is a very big eater." "and a dirty one, too, sir," added thompson with disgust. "i've been at hotels with 'em." "seven meals a day is one of the articles of faith of the good german, thompson," continued malcolm sage. "and what's the result, sir?" remarked thompson. "i suppose," remarked sage meditatively, "it's the same as with a bean-fed horse. they go out looking for trouble." "and they're going to get it," was the grim rejoinder. "well, carry on, thompson," said sage by way of dismissal. "you'll learn a great deal about the green-grocery trade in the process." "and waterworks--and gas and things, sir," grinned thompson. as thompson opened the door of malcolm sage's room, he stepped aside to allow colonel walton to enter, and then quietly closed the door behind him. "bad time?" enquired sage as colonel walton dropped into a chair and, taking off his cap, mopped his forehead. "on this occasion i resigned for both of us." for once in his life malcolm sage was surprised. he looked incredulously across at his chief, who gazed back with a comical expression in his eyes. "i thought i was left at home for fear i might resign," said malcolm sage drily when colonel walton had finished telling him of the interview. but colonel walton did not look up from the end of his cigar, which he was examining with great intentness. "i'm not a sceptic," remarked malcolm sage presently, as he gazed at his brilliantly-polished fingernails, "but i would give a great deal for a dumb patriot domiciled in apthorpe road." "dumb?" queried colonel walton. malcolm sage nodded without raising his eyes from his finger-nails. "i have no doubt that apthorpe road is exclusively patriotic; but if we were to ask one of its residents to lend us a front-bedroom and, furthermore, if we spent all our days in the bedroom at the window----" he shrugged his shoulders. "there's always the domestic servant," suggested colonel walton. "not much use in this case, chief," was the reply. "it means that thompson has had to turn road-mender. good man, thompson," he added. "he'd extract facts from a futurist picture." colonel walton nodded. chapter xvi finlay's s.o.s. i "well, i think it's spies," announced marjorie rogers, as she sat perched on the corner of john dene's table, swinging a pretty foot. dorothy looked up quickly. "but----" she began, then paused. "and it's all mr. llewellyn john's fault. he ought to intern all aliens. on raid-nights the tube is simply disgusting." dorothy smiled at the wise air of decision with which marjorie settled political problems. the strain of the past week with its hopes and fears was beginning to tell upon her. there had been interminable interrogations by men in plain clothes, who with large hands and blunt pencils wrote copious notes in fat note-books. the atmosphere with which they surrounded themselves was so vague, so non-committal, that dorothy began to feel that she was suspected of having stolen john dene. "oh, mother!" she had cried on the evening of the first day of her ordeal at the hands of scotland yard, "you should see your poor, defenceless daughter surrounded by men who do nothing but ask questions and look mysterious. they're so different from mr. sage," she had added as an afterthought. "if it isn't the spies," continued marjorie, "then what is it?" dorothy shook her head wearily. she missed john dene. it was just beginning to dawn upon her how much she missed him. the days seemed interminable. there was nothing to do but answer the door to the repeated knocks, either of detectives or of journalists. it was a relief when marjorie ran in to pick her up for lunch--dorothy had felt it only fair to discontinue the elaborate lunches that were sent in--or on her way home in the evening. "a man doesn't get lost like a pawn-ticket," announced marjorie. "what do you know about pawn-tickets, rojjie?" "oh, i often pop things when i'm hard up," she announced nonchalantly. "you don't!" cried dorothy incredulously. "of course. what should i do when i'm stoney if it wasn't for uncle." "you outrageous little creature!" cried dorothy. "i should like to shake you." "he's quite a nice youth, with black hair greased into what i think he would call a 'quiff.'" "what on earth are you talking about?" "uncle, of course. he always gives me more than anyone else," she announced with the air of one conscious of a triumph. "where will you end, rojjie?" cried dorothy. "suburbs probably," she replied practically. "these old wasters take you out to dinner; but marry you--not much." she shook her wise little head so vigorously that her bobbed hair shook like a fringe. "i wish i had a john dene," she said after a pause. "a john dene!" "ummm!" nodded marjorie. "why?" "marry him, of course." "don't be absurd." suddenly marjorie slipped off the table and, going over to dorothy, threw her arms round her impulsively. "i'm so sorry, dollikins," she cried, snuggling up against her. "sorry for what?" asked dorothy in a weak voice. "that he got lost. i--i _know_," she added. "know what?" asked dorothy, her voice still weaker. "that you're keen on him." "i'm not," dorothy sniffed. "i'm not, so there." again she sniffed, and marjorie with the wisdom of her sex was silent, wondering how long she would be able to stand the tickling of dorothy's tears as they coursed down her cheeks. at the end of a fortnight sir lyster grayne decided to close john dene's offices, and dorothy returned to the admiralty, resuming her former position; but, thanks to sir bridgman north's intervention, her salary remained the same as before john dene's disappearance. all the girls were greatly interested in what they called "john dene's vanishing trick." dorothy became weary of answering their questions and parrying their not ill-natured impertinences. sometimes she felt she must scream. everybody she encountered seemed to think it necessary to refer to the very subject she would have wished left unmentioned. one day she had encountered sir bridgman north in one of the corridors. recognising her, he had stopped to enquire if she were still receiving her full salary. then with a cheery "i don't want to be gingered-up when the good john dene returns," he had passed on with a smile and a salute. at home it was the same. a pall of depression seemed to have descended upon the little flat. mrs. west tactfully refrained from asking questions; but dorothy was conscious that john dene was never very far from her thoughts. their week-end excursions had lost their savour, and they both recognised how much john dene had become part of their lives. sometimes when dorothy was in bed, tears would refuse to be forced back, however hard she strove against them. then she would become angry with herself, jump out of bed, dab her eyes with a wet towel, and return to bed and start counting sheep, until the very thought of mutton seemed to drive her mad. mr. blair she hated the sight of, he was so obviously satisfied with the course of events. sometimes she found herself longing for the return of john dene, merely that he might "ginger-up" sir lyster's private secretary. week after week passed and no news. the volume of questions in the house died down and finally disappeared altogether. the state of affairs at scotland yard returned to the normal. newspapers ceased to refer either to john dene, or to his disappearance, and the tide of war flowed on. marshal foch had struck his great blow, and had followed it up with others. the stream of hun invasion had been stemmed, and slowly france and belgium were being cleared. mr. montagu naylor's comings and goings continued to interest department z., and apthorpe road was still in the grip of the workman. day by day dorothy seemed to grow more listless. it was the heat, she explained to mrs. west, whilst marjorie nodded her wise little head, but said nothing. whenever she saw dorothy she always "talked john dene," as she expressed it to herself. she could see that it was a relief. "you see, rojjie darling, i should always be a little afraid of him," said dorothy one day as they sat in john dene's room. "i suppose that is why i----" she paused. marjorie nodded understandingly, and continued to swing a dainty, grey-stockinged leg. "you--you see," continued dorothy a little wistfully, "i've always had to do the taking care of, and he----" again she broke off. then suddenly jumping up she cried, "let's go to the pictures. bother john dene!" and marjorie smiled a little smile that was really her own. finally there came the time when for a fortnight dorothy would have no one to say to her either "come" or "go," and she and mrs. west went to bournemouth, dorothy inwardly dreading two weeks with nothing to do. ii whilst the john dene sensation was slowly fading from the public mind, malcolm sage was continuing with unabated energy the task he had set himself. he was aware that finlay was being watched even more closely than john dene had been watched, and sage realised that it was, in all probability, impossible for him to communicate with headquarters. by an ingenious device, however, finlay had at length succeeded in establishing contact with department z. it had been reported to sage that on two occasions finlay had been seen to leave behind him at restaurants a silver-mounted ebony walking stick. he had, however, always returned for it a few minutes later, as if having discovered his loss. learning that the stick was of an ordinary stock pattern, malcolm sage gave instructions for one exactly like it to be purchased. an endeavour was then to be made to effect an exchange with that carried by finlay. it was not until a week later that this was effected, and the stick handed to thompson. a careful examination disclosed nothing. the silver nob and ferrule were removed; but without bringing to light anything in the nature of a communication. "it's a wash-out, sir," said thompson, as he entered malcolm sage's room, the stick in one hand and the knob and ferrule in the other. sage glanced up from his desk. holding out his hand he took the stick and proceeded to examine it with elaborate care. the wood at the top, just beneath the knob, had been hollowed out. sage glanced up at thompson interrogatingly. "nothing in it, sir," he said, interpreting the question. "there will be when you next make the exchange," was the dry retort and, with a motion of dismissal, malcolm sage returned to the papers before him. "what's the matter, tommy?" enquired gladys norman a few minutes later, as she came across thompson gazing at the hollowed-out end of a stick, and murmuring to himself with suppressed passion. "i'm the biggest fool in london," said thompson without looking up. "only just discovered it?" she asked casually. "poor old tommikins," she added, prepared to dodge at the least sign of an offensive movement on the part of her colleague; but thompson was too engrossed in introspective analysis to be conscious of what was taking place about him. "we're on the eve of developments," said malcolm sage one afternoon some weeks later, as colonel walton entered his room, closing the door behind him. "anything new?" he enquired, dropping into a chair beside sage's table. "i'm afraid there's going to be trouble." "not resigning?" there was a twinkle in colonel walton's eye. in their infinite variety the resignations of malcolm sage would have filled a blue book. "i don't like the look of things," continued sage, pulling steadily at his pipe and ignoring the remark. "naylor's playing his own game, i'm sure and," he added, looking up suddenly, "it's an ugly game." "bluff, that accusing finlay of acting on his own about john dene." malcolm sage nodded his head slowly several times. for some minutes he continued to smoke with a mechanical precision that with him always betokened anxiety. "it's the dug-out business, i don't like," he said at length. colonel walton nodded. "you think?" he queried. sage nodded, his face was unusually grave. during the previous week it had been discovered that mr. naylor was having constructed in his back-garden a dug-out, to which to retire in case of air-raids, and he was himself assisting with the work of excavation. finlay had confirmed malcolm sage's suggestion that naylor was suspicious. there had been a quarrel between the two, which had taken place through intermediaries. naylor had accused finlay of being responsible for the disappearance of john dene. finlay had responded by a like accusation, and the threat of serious consequences to naylor when the facts were known in a certain quarter. "we've got to speed up." malcolm sage addressed the remark apparently to the thumbnail of his left hand. colonel walton nodded. "i don't like that dug-out business at all," continued sage. "the changing of the site too," he added. "had they got far with the first one?" enquired colonel walton "about five feet down; but they haven't filled it in yet." colonel walton looked up quickly. his face was grave. "naylor says they must get the dug-out finished first in case of a raid. he can fill in the old hole at any time." "a dug-out after nearly four years of raids?" "exactly," said sage, "that and the unfilled hole and naylor's own activities----" he broke off significantly. "about the reward? it would be awkward if---- come in." colonel walton broke off at the sound of a knock at the door. thompson entered with an ebony walking stick in one hand, a silver knob and a small piece of paper in the other. he held out the paper to malcolm sage, who, with a motion of his head, indicated colonel walton. he was very punctilious in such matters. colonel walton took the slip of paper and read aloud. "arrest me late to-night and have me taken to tower. slip the dogs to-morrow certain, delay dangerous. j. f." for fully a minute the three men were silent. colonel walton began to draw diagrams upon his blotting pad malcolm sage gazed at his finger-nails, whilst thompson stood stiffly erect, his face pale and his mouth rigid. presently sage looked up. "i'm afraid there'll be no spring-mattress for you to-night, thompson," he said. "i'll ring in a few minutes," and thompson drew a sigh of relief as he turned towards the door, which a moment afterwards closed behind him. "we can't do it to-night," announced sage with decision. colonel walton shook his head. "he must take the risk until the morning," continued sage. "you'll be here until it's all through?" he interrogated. colonel walton nodded. when thoughtful he was more than usually sparing of words. "about the reward?" he interrogated, as sage rose and moved towards the door. "we'll withdraw it in to-morrow evening's papers," was the response, "if you agree." again colonel walton nodded, and malcolm sage went out, bent on reminding scotland yard of his existence. chapter xvii malcolm sage casts his net i "i'm afraid there'll be trouble with the people at the tower," remarked malcolm sage, who, with the aid of his briar pipe, was doing his best to reduce the visibility. "zero is noon," mused colonel walton. sage nodded. "they'll begin to drift in about twelve-thirty," he continued, puffing placidly at his cigar. "well, it's been interesting, and it'll give the skipper a sort of joy day with the war cabinet," said sage quietly. "to-morrow ought to be rather a large breakfast-party," he added drily. "he had the wind up rather badly at one time." "celt," was sage's comment. colonel walton nodded. for some minutes the two smoked in silence. "i hope they won't start any of that o.b.e. business," said sage at length. "sure to. it will be a triumph for the skipper," continued colonel walton. "he deserves it," said sage ungrudgingly. "he's always believed in us. by the way, i told hoyle to bring finlay here after they had got naylor." colonel walton continued to puff contentedly at his cigar. early that morning malcolm sage had given final instructions to the various members of his staff. he and colonel walton had been working all through the night in perfecting their plans. the demands made upon scotland yard for men had at first evoked surprise, which later developed into _sotto voce_ ridicule. "what the devil's up with old sage and onions?" inspector crabbett had muttered, as he cast his eyes down the list of plain-clothes and uniformed officers required. "who the devil's going to issue all these warrants?" department z., however, had its own means of obtaining such warrants as were required without questions being asked. early that morning malcolm sage had got through to inspector crabbett. "that you, inspector?" he enquired. "what's left of me," was the surly retort. "got that little list of mine?" enquired sage. "we're engaging new men as fast as we can so as to have enough," was the grumbling reply. "i've asked the w.o. to demobilise a few divisions to help us," he added with ponderous sarcasm. "thank you," said sage imperturbably, as he replaced the receiver. mr. montagu naylor had been reserved for department z. sage was determined to get him alive; but his knowledge of the man was sufficient to tell him that mr. naylor was equally determined never to be taken alive. he had seen that little corrugated-iron covered building at the tower that had once been a miniature rifle-range and, involuntarily, he had shuddered. ii "was that the telephone?" mr. naylor barked the question down from the first-floor. there was a pad-pad of feet, and mrs. naylor appeared from the basement. "yes," she replied timidly. "shall i go?" "no, i'll go myself;" and mr. naylor descended the stairs heavily. passing into his study, he closed the door behind him and seated himself at the table. "hullo!" he called into the mouthpiece, lifting off the receiver. "is that twelve haymarket?" came the reply. "no," was the suave response. "this is mr. montagu naylor of apthorpe road, streatham. you're on to the wrong number;" and with that he replaced his receiver, pulled out his watch and scowled at the dial. the hands pointed to half-past eleven. with a muttered exclamation and a murmur about a taxi, mr. naylor stamped out of the room, just as mrs. naylor was leaving the dining-room. she shrank back as if expecting to be struck. "back about two," he grunted. "keep that damned dog tied up." "i'll see to it," said mrs. naylor in a voice that seemed to come through cotton-wool. since post time that morning mr. naylor's temper had been bad, even for him. an intimation had come from the local police-station to the effect that several complaints had been made of the savage nature and aggressive disposition of a dog he was alleged to keep on his premises. the officer who had been sent round to call attention to this fact on the previous day, had been prevented from entering the garden by the valiant defence put up by james himself. mr. naylor had been out at the time of the call, and mrs. naylor had not dared to tell him of the constable's visit and discomfiture. department z. was taking no risks where james was concerned. during the whole of breakfast strange sounds had rumbled in mr. naylor's throat, whilst on one occasion, when he happened to catch mrs. naylor's eye, he glared so ferociously at her that she let the lid of the teapot fall with a crash into a fast-filling cup. with this the volcano had burst, and the grumbles in mr. naylor's larynx matured into deep-throated oaths and execrations. three times he had descended to the basement, from whence his voice could be heard in passionate protest against any and every thing he encountered. mrs. naylor had gone about the house with the air of one convinced of disaster. susan, as usual, succeeded in shuffling out of the way just as mr. naylor appeared. as the front door banged behind him, mr. naylor's scowl lifted as by magic, giving place to an expression of benignant geniality befitting a prominent and respected citizen. mr. naylor managed the distance to the haymarket in the time without involving a taxi, thus greatly improving his temper. he was a man who grudged unnecessary expense, and all expense, not directly connected with the delights of the table, was to his way of thinking unnecessary. that morning, just as big ben was booming out the tenth stroke of noon, a commotion was observed to take place outside the pall mall restaurant. suddenly four men precipitated themselves upon a fifth, who was walking calmly and peaceably towards coventry street. in a flash he was handcuffed and thrown, somebody called out "police"; but before anyone had properly realised what was happening, a motor-car had drawn up and the handcuffed man was bundled into it, struggling vainly against the rope with which his legs had been quickly bound. when a policeman arrived, it was to be told by an excited group of spectators that a man had been assaulted and kidnapped in broad daylight. thus was mr. montagu naylor of streatham secured and conducted to the tower, there eventually to make acquaintance with the miniature rifle-range. whilst mr. naylor was rapidly nearing the place of the most remarkable appointment he had ever kept, james was reduced to a state of frenzy by several strange men in the adjoining back-gardens. they were, according to their own account, given to the residents whose houses flanked that of mr. naylor, engaged upon survey work. the instruments they had with them seemed to give colour to their words. the apathy of the workmen who for the last few days had surrendered apthorpe road to others, different from themselves only in that they belonged to another union and brought with them a steam-roller instead of picks and shovels, seemed suddenly to develop into an unusual activity. immediately after the departure of mr. naylor, the asphalt of the footpath just in front of his gate was picked up with an energy that merited rebuke from any self-respecting father of the chapel. a few minutes later a man knocked at mr. naylor's door, and stated that it would be necessary to dig up the path leading to the front door. at this information a look of fear sprang into mrs. naylor's eyes. she was terrified of deciding anything in mr. naylor's absence. when the men announced that it would be necessary to descend to the basement, she shook her head violently. "no, no!" she cried. "mr. naylor is away. come again this afternoon." it was pointed out to her that the afternoon might be too late, something had gone wrong with the gas, and if they waited until the afternoon anything might happen. the man was respectful, but insistent. he so played upon mrs. naylor's fears by hinting darkly at the possibility of there being nothing for mr. naylor to return to by the afternoon, unless the gas meter were immediately seen to, that she consented to allow a man to descend to the basement after being told that it would not be necessary for him to go into any of the rooms. first, however, she insisted that she must go down and see that everything was tidy. after a lapse of five minutes she returned; but when four men presented themselves prepared to descend the stairs, she resolutely refused. "very well, mum," said the foreman, "we'll see what the police can do. just pop round to the police-station, bill, and bring a copper," he said to a mate. "sooner 'ave the 'ole bloomin' street blown up than let us go down and dirty your stairs." there was in his voice all the indignation of the outraged british workman. mrs. naylor wavered. the word "police" had for her a peculiar and terrifying significance. "you--you only want to go in the passage," she said. "that'll do us, mum," said the foreman. "you stay up 'ere, bill," he added, turning to the man he had instructed to go for the police. mrs. naylor led the way to the lower regions, unconscious that not three but seven men were following her, the last four with rubber-soled boots. she had scarcely taken a step along the passage at the foot of the basement stairs, when her arms were gripped from behind and a pad held over her mouth. she struggled against the sweet-smelling sickly fumes; then the relaxing of her limbs told that she had temporarily left for realms where mr. naylor was not. the basement was composed of a kitchen, immediately on the right of the stairs, and a breakfast-room, the entrance to which lay a few paces along the passage. at the end of the passage was a door leading into the area. without a sound the men divided themselves, one went to the area door, two remained by the kitchen door, where susan could be heard clattering crockery, whilst the other four stood outside the door leading to the breakfast-room. one of them gently turned the handle; it was locked. he made a signal to the two men at the kitchen door. one quietly entered. a moment later susan looked up with a start to find herself gazing down the barrel of an automatic pistol, whilst before her eyes was presented a card on which was printed, "come and make the signal to get the door of the breakfast-room open, otherwise you will be shot." for a fraction of a second she hesitated, then a strange light flashed into her eyes, suggestive half of cunning, half of relief, and with an understanding nod she walked to the breakfast-room door. one of the men placed her in such a position that she would not be in the way of the entrance of the others when the door was opened. very deliberately she knocked and paused--knock--knock--knock, pause, knock--knock. they waited breathlessly. the sound of a key being cautiously turned was presently heard. a moment after a line of white appeared beside the green paint of the door, as it was slowly and cautiously opened. then a score of things seemed to happen at once. the waiting men threw themselves into the room, the man at the end of the passage dashed out into the area, he who had been left at the kitchen-door rushed into the back-yard and whistled. the breakfast-room was in total darkness; but for the brilliant electric torches carried by the assailants. for a moment there was wild confusion, a shot was fired and then all was quiet. "got him, thompson?" it was malcolm sage who spoke; but from a physical substance that was not malcolm sage. "got them and it, sir," was the response. "are you hit?" "only in the arm, sir. nothing to write home about," was the cheery response. "here, switch on the light someone," said malcolm sage, and a moment after there was a click and a three-lamp electrolier burst into light. "get a window open, thompson; thrust all that greenery stuff out," cried malcolm sage. "right, sir." with the aid of the fire-irons, mr. montagu naylor's little greenhouse was soon demobilised and lay a heap of ruins in the area. "that's better," murmured malcolm sage. "what a stink!" he then turned to an examination of the room. the window had been blocked up with a sort of glass case, on which shelves had been built and flower-pots placed. this had the effect not only of cutting off all communications from outside except from the door; but of preventing anyone from seeing into the room. the atmosphere of the place was heavy and foetid, as the only means of ventilation was the door. there were three pallet-beds, a table and several chairs. malcolm sage shuddered at the thought of living week after week under such conditions. he turned to his prisoners. on the floor lay two men, handcuffed, each with a member of the staff of department z. sitting contentedly on his chest. one was foaming at the mouth with suppressed fury, the other, a heavily-built fellow, lay apathetic. in a corner upon one of the pallet-beds sat a man looking about him in a dazed fashion. "it's all right, mr. dene," said malcolm sage. "we'll attend to you in a minute." then turning to thompson he said, "get these fellows up into the car. keep the two women here under guard. then we'll see to your arm." "right, sir," said thompson. the arrival of three closed motor-cars outside "the cedars" had aroused some interest among the residents of apthorpe road. the absence of flowers from the lamps and the buttonholes of the chauffeurs negatived the idea of a wedding, and three cars were scarcely necessary to take mr. naylor's small household for a holiday. a group of neighbours and errand boys gathered outside mr. naylor's gate. the windows opposite and on each side were manned in force. presently the onlookers were astonished to see two handcuffed men half carried, half dragged out of the house and hurried into the first car. they were followed by two more of the men who, a few minutes before, had been engaged in picking up mr. naylor's path. as soon as they were in the car, these men proceeded to fetter their two prisoners. apthorpe road gasped its astonishment. in the breakfast-room malcolm sage drew a chair up to the man seated on the bed, seemingly quite unconscious of what was happening. leaning forward he lifted one of his eyelids, then turned to the others who stood round. "dope," was all he said. there was an angry murmur from the others. for a moment malcolm sage sat looking at the wasted form of what once might have been john dene of toronto. then he turned to thompson, quite unrecognisable as the foreman gas-mechanic, whose arm was being bandaged with a field-dressing. "take him in one of the cars to sir bryllith riley, and explain. he's expecting you. do exactly as he orders. take rogers with you, and then get your wound seen to." sir bryllith riley was the great specialist in nervous disorders, who had made a special study of the drug habit. without a word thompson left the room, followed two of the "workmen," who had raised the patient to his feet. then half leading, half carrying they took him from the room. the crowd of spectators, which had been considerably reinforced, received its second thrill that morning at the sight of a short sturdily built man, apparently drunk, being helped into the second car. they noticed that he blinked violently in the sunlight, and those who were near enough saw that his eyes were watering profusely. one or two of the more observant observed that he stumbled as he entered the taxi, and would have fallen but for those supporting him. the second car immediately drove off. a few minutes later two more men left "the cedars" and entered the third car, which with the first then drove off, leaving mr. naylor's residence in the charge of the "survey" men and two of the "workmen." in the back-garden james was having a meal--it was to be his last. "i should like a smoke, chief. i left my pipe behind," said one of the men in the third car, as he took from his pocket a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles and proceeded to put them on. "here, try one of these," and a gold-mounted cigar case was passed towards him, a case that seemed strangely out of keeping with the corduroys of the owner. "well, it's been a happy day," said malcolm sage, as he proceeded to light the cigar colonel walton had given him. "i hope the other fellows have got their lot," said the chief of department z., as the car ran into the high road. "trust them," was the answer. "finlay wouldn't let naylor escape him. i should like to know what they're saying at the tower," he added a moment later. from half-past twelve until nearly two that day, the officials at the tower were kept busily occupied in receiving guests. the appetite for lunch of the officer of the guard was entirely spoiled. "where the deuce are we going to put them all," he asked of one of his n.c.o.'s. the man shook his head helplessly. "it might be a rowton's lodging-house," grumbled the officer, as he made the twenty-third entry in what he facetiously called the "goods received book." "damn the war!" iii "well, thompson," remarked colonel walton with a smile, "you have earned----" "a wound stripe," interrupted sage. thompson grinned, as he looked down at his right arm resting in a sling. "it was meant for mr. dene, sir," he said. "i just got there in time. it was that ferret-eyed little blighter," he added without the slightest suggestion of animosity. thompson was a sportsman, taking and giving hard knocks with philosophic good-humour. "plucky little devil," murmured malcolm sage. "he bit and scratched with the utmost impartiality." malcolm sage and thompson were seated in colonel walton's room discussing the events of the morning. "we were only just in time," said sage. "finlay was right." colonel walton nodded. "it was dope, sir." thompson looked from colonel walton to malcolm sage. "sir bryllith said he'll be months in a home." "yes," said sage. "he won't be fit to answer questions for a long time. been doped all the time, nearly three months." "if there's nothing more----" began thompson. "no, thompson, go and get a sleep," said colonel walton. "look after that arm, and take things easy for a few days." "thank you, sir," said thompson; "but i'm afraid i've forgotten the way," and with a grin he went out. "you've wirelessed?" asked colonel walton. "the whole story. they're bound to pick it up at auchinlech." "and the skipper?" "oh! just what we actually know, i should say," responded sage, and colonel walton nodded his agreement. "they're puzzled over those announcements withdrawing the reward," said sage a few minutes later. "we ought to be hearing from the skipper soon." "he's already been through while you were changing. i'm going round at five. you're coming too," added colonel walton, as he lighted a fresh cigar. "what about finlay?" "gone home to see his wife," said sage. "he's as domesticated as a persian kitten," he added with all the superiority of a confirmed bachelor. in another room gladys norman was fussing over a wounded hero. "poor 'ickle tommikins." she crooned, as she sat on the arm of his chair and rumpled the hair of special service officer thompson. "did 'ums hurt 'ums poor 'ickle arm. brave boy!" and then she bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek, whereat thompson blushed crimson. "department z. makes its traditions as it goes along," malcolm sage had once said. "it's more natural." chapter xviii the return of john dene "it's very strange," murmured sir lyster grayne, as he raised his eyes from an official-looking document. "what are the official figures for the last six weeks, heyworth?" he enquired. "seven certainties and two doubtful," was the reply. "about normal, then?" admiral heyworth nodded. "then why the devil should the hun get the wind up?" demanded sir bridgman, a look of puzzlement taking the place of the usual smile in his eyes. "what does the i.d. say?" "that during the last four weeks thirty-seven u-boats have failed to return to their bases as they should have done," replied admiral heyworth, referring to a buff-coloured paper before him. "that leaves twenty-eight in the air," said sir bridgman, more to himself than to the others. sir lyster nodded thoughtfully. "no wonder they're getting the wind up," mused sir bridgman. "the i.d. says that kiel and wilhelmshaven are in a state of panic," said admiral heyworth. "it's damned funny," remarked sir bridgman thoughtfully. "structural defects won't explain it?" he looked interrogatingly across at admiral heyworth, who shook his head in negation. "it might of course be wangle," murmured sir bridgman. sir lyster shook his head decidedly. "the i.d. says no," he remarked. "they're doing everything they can to keep it dark." "well, it's damned funny," repeated sir bridgman. "what does l. j. say?" "he's as puzzled as the rest of us," said sir lyster in response. "he's making enquiries through department z." there was the merest suggestion of patronage in sir lyster's voice at the mention of department z. sir bridgman lit a cigarette, then after a short silence sir lyster said tentatively: "i suppose it isn't the americans?" "impossible," said sir bridgman. "you can't base ships on ether, and we were bound to know, besides frankness is their strong point. they are almost aggressively open," he added. "i----" began sir lyster, then paused. "it's damned funny," murmured sir bridgman for the third time. "well, i must buzz off," he added, rising. "i shall see you at l.j.'s this afternoon." "it's a conference, i think," said sir lyster. "walton is to tell us what has been discovered." again there was the note of patronage in his voice. "well," said sir bridgman, "i'll try and prevent it spoiling my lunch," and he stretched his big frame lazily. "by the way," he remarked, turning to sir lyster, "did you see about that convoy a hundred miles off its course, bleating like a lost goat to know where it was?" "it might have been very serious," said sir lyster gravely. "oh! the luck of the navy," laughed sir bridgman. "we have to do it all, even teach the other fellows their job. mark it, grayne, we shall take over the whole blessed country before we've finished, then perhaps they'll raise our screws," and with that he left the room. two minutes later his cheery laugh was heard outside again as he enquired of mr. blair if it were true that he was going to double the reward for the discovery of john dene. a moment later he rejoined sir lyster and admiral heyworth. "i forgot about that flying-boat business," he said, and soon the three were engaged in a technical discussion. for more than three months mr. blair had known peace. he had been able to walk leisurely across st. james's park from his chambers in st. mary's mansions, pause for a moment to look at the pelicans, dwell upon the memory of past social engagements and anticipate those to come, receive the salute of the policeman at the door of the admiralty and the respectful bows of the attendants within and walk up the stairs and along the corridors to his room, conscious that in his heart was an abiding peace. it was true that a war raged in various parts of the world, and that mr. blair's work brought him constantly into close touch with the horrors of that war; but it was all so far away, and his was a nature that permitted the contemplation of such matters with philosophical detachment. a scorched shirt-front, an ill-ironed collar, or an omelette that was not all an omelette should be, bulked vastly more in mr. blair's imagination than the fall of kut, the over-running of roumania, or the tragedy of caporetto. national disaster he could bear with a stoical calm befitting in a man of long ancestry; but personal discomfort reduced him to a state of acute nervousness. the hun ravaged belgium, invaded russia, over-ran lombardy; mr. blair was appropriately shocked and, on occasion, expressed his indignation in a restrained and well-bred manner; but john dene crashing in upon the atmosphere of intellectual quiet and material content with which mr. blair was surrounded, ravaged his nerves and produced in him something of a mental palpitation. therefore of the two events the irruptions of john dene were infinitely more disturbing to mr. blair than those of the hordes of the modern attila. mr. blair sat at his table, pen in hand, before him a pad of virgin blotting paper. his thoughts had wandered back to a dinner-party at which he had been present the previous night. his eyes were fixed upon an antique family ring he wore upon the fourth finger of his left-hand. the dinner had been a success, a conspicuous success. he was conscious of having shone by virtue of the tactful way in which he had parried certain direct and rather impertinent questions of a professional nature addressed to him by one of the guests. they related to the disappearance of john dene. mr. blair had experienced an additional gratification from the discovery that he had been able to hear mentioned the name of john dene without experiencing an inward thrill of misgiving. as he sat this morning, pen in hand, he pondered over the subject of john dene in relation to himself, reginald blair. possibly he had been a little weak in not standing more upon his dignity with this rough and uncouth colonial. in such cases a bold and determined front was all that was necessary. of course there would have been one great contest, and mr. blair detested such things; but--yes, he had been weak. in future he---- "here, who the hell's shut my offices, and where's miss west?" the pen slipped from mr. blair's limp hand, and his jaw dropped as he found himself gazing up into the angry eyes of john dene, who had entered the room like a tornado. "this ain't a seal tank and it's not feeding time," cried john dene angrily. "who's shut my offices?" then with a sudden look in the direction of the door he called out, "here, come in, jasp." mr. blair looked more than ever like a seal as he gazed stupidly at john dene. his eyes widened at the uncouth appearance of "spotty" quinton. mr. blair started violently as spotty, seeing the fireplace, expectorated towards it with astonishing accuracy. spotty could always be depended upon to observe the rules of good breeding in such matters. when a room possessed a fireplace, the ornaments and carpet were always safe as far as he was concerned. mr. blair gazed stupidly at his visitors. "i--i----" he stammered. without a word john dene turned, strode across the room and, opening sir lyster's door, disappeared, closing the door behind him with a bang. sir lyster was in the act of reaching across the table for a letter that sir bridgman was handing him. both men turned to see the cause of the interruption. sir bridgman dropped the letter, and sir lyster slowly withdrew his arm as he gazed in a dazed manner at john dene. sir bridgman was the first to recover from his surprise. "why, it's john dene!" he cried heartily, as he rose and grasped the interrupter's hand. "where the deuce have you been hiding all this time?" "what the hell have you done with that girl, and who's closed my offices?" demanded john dene, looking from sir bridgman to the first lord. "girl! what girl?" enquired sir lyster. "miss west," snapped john dene. "miss west!" repeated sir lyster vaguely, then memory suddenly coming to his aid he added weakly, "yes, i remember. she became your secretary." john dene regarded him steadily. sir bridgman hid a smile, he always enjoyed a situation that brought sir lyster into antagonism with john dene. "yes; but that don't help any," cried john dene irascibly. "where is she now?" "really, mr. dene," began sir lyster stiffly, when his gaze suddenly became fixed on the door, which had opened slowly, whilst round the corner appeared the unprepossessing features of spotty quinton. following the direction of sir lyster's eyes, john dene saw his henchman. "come right in, jasp," he cried, and spotty sidled round the door cap in hand. catching sight of the fireplace, he expectorated neatly into it. sir lyster stared at him as if he had suddenly appeared from another planet. "this is jasp. quinton, one of my boys," announced john dene, looking from sir lyster to sir bridgman with a "take it or leave it" air. sir bridgman advanced a step and held out his hand, which spotty clasped warmly, first however, wiping his hand on the leg of his trousers with the air of a man unaccustomed to his hands being in a fit condition for the purpose of greeting. "pleased to meet you," said spotty briefly. "how's the _destroyer_?" asked sir bridgman with some eagerness. "ruddy miracle," said spotty, as he once more got the fireplace dead in the centre. sir lyster seemed temporarily to have lost the power of speech. he gazed at quinton as if hypnotised by the inequality of his complexion. when he expectorated sir lyster's eyes wandered from spotty to the fireplace, as if to assure himself that a bull had really been registered. at last by an obvious effort he turned to john dene. "i congratulate you upon your escape," he said, "but i thought you were too ill to----" "my escape!" replied john dene. "yes, from that place--where was it, north?" he turned to sir bridgman. "streatham." "ah! yes, streatham." "i've been up north sending huns to merry hell, where i'd like to send the whole admiralty outfit," was the uncompromising retort. "i've come into contact with some fools----" john dene broke off. "shutting up my offices," he muttered. "but----" began sir lyster, then paused. "i've been over to chiswick and she's not there; flat's shut," continued john dene. "chiswick!" repeated sir lyster. "whose flat?" "mrs. west's, and you've shut my offices," he added, with the air of one unwilling to relinquish an obvious grievance. "but i understood that you had just been released from a house in streatham," persisted sir lyster. "well, there's a good many mutts in this place who've been released too soon. you're talking about jim." "jim!" repeated sir lyster, "jim who?" "my brother. they were all after me good and hard, so jim came along, and i just slipped up north with your man." "then you were the fellow with red hair all over him," laughed sir bridgman. "sure," was the laconic reply. "they were out for me," he continued a moment later, "and i'd never have got away. jim didn't mind." "but where is he now?" asked sir lyster. "he's probably the john dene that they think was released from that place in streatham," suggested sir bridgman. "jim's all right," said john dene, "but where's miss west and my keys?" at that moment the telephone bell rang. sir lyster lifted the receiver from the rest and listened. "yes, that's all right, thank you, blair," he said; then turning to john dene he added, "mr. blair has your keys and he also has miss west's address at bournemouth." "here, come on, jasp.," cried john dene, just as spotty was in the act of letting fly at the fireplace for the sixth time. he turned a reproachful gaze upon his chief. "but the _destroyer_?" broke in admiral bridgman. "she has been doing her bit," said john dene grimly. "she's refitting now. i'm off to bournemouth, and spotty's going north to-night with some indents." "mr. dene," began sir lyster in his most impressive manner, "your patriotism has---- "here, forget it," and with that john dene was gone, followed by his lieutenant, leaving sir lyster, sir bridgman and admiral heyworth gazing at the door that closed behind him. as spotty passed mr. blair he turned and, thrusting his face forward, growled, "ruddy tyke." it was his way of indicating loyalty to his chief; but it spoiled mr. blair's lunch. for some moments after john dene had gone, sir lyster and sir bridgman and admiral heyworth gazed at each other without speaking. "do you think it's drink, grayne, or only the heat?" sir bridgman laughed. sir lyster winced and looked across at him as a man might at a boy who has just blown a trumpet in his ear. without replying he lifted the telephone receiver from its rest. "get me through to the prime minister. what's that? yes, sir bridgman's here. very well, we'll come round at once." as he replaced the receiver he rose. "the prime minister would like us to step round," he said. "walton and sage are there. it's about john dene." "seen john dene?" asked sir bridgman of mr. blair, as they passed through the room. "you'd better apply for that twenty thousand pounds, blair." sir lyster wondered why sir bridgman persisted in his jokes, however much they might have become frayed at the edges. when they entered mr. llewellyn john's room it was to find him a veritable aurora borealis of smiles. he was obviously in the best of spirits. "john dene has been found," he cried before his callers had taken the chairs to which he waved them. "we left poor blair with the same conviction," laughed sir bridgman. "then you know?" "i telephoned sir lyster," said colonel walton. "mr. dene has only just left us," explained sir lyster. "he was extremely annoyed at the closing of his office and the disappearance of his secretary." "but----" mr. llewellyn john looked from colonel walton to malcolm sage, and then on to sir lyster in bewilderment. "perhaps, sage----" suggested colonel walton. "you'd better tell the story, sage, as colonel walton suggests," said mr. llewellyn john. "there is an official report in preparation," said colonel walton. mr. llewellyn john nodded. in the course of the next half-hour malcolm sage kept his hearers in a state of breathless interest by the story of the coming and going of john dene, as known to department z. "i gave mr. dene the credit of being possessed of more than the ordinary amount of what he calls 'head-filling,'" began sage, "but i didn't realise at first that he possessed a twin brother; but i'll begin at the beginning." "when you turned over the matter to department z.," continued malcolm sage, "we made exhaustive inquiries and discovered that the huns were determined to prevent the _destroyer_ from putting to sea, and they were prepared at any cost to stop mr. dene from going north. in canada and on the way over they made attempts upon his life; but then, as so frequently happens, they became the victims of divided councils. they wanted the plans. thanks to, er--certain happenings they learned that the _destroyer_ would not sail without mr. dene." "how?" interpolated mr. llewellyn john "they obtained the guarantee." "i remember," said mr. llewellyn john, "it was stolen." "mr. dene used to leave his safe open with such papers in it as he wanted the enemy to see. that's what he meant when on one occasion he said, 'if you've got a hungry dog feed it.'" sir bridgman north laughed, sir lyster turned to him reproachfully. "mr. dene became convinced that an effort would be made to kidnap and hold him to ransom, the price being the plans of the _destroyer_. department z. also became convinced of this, but at a later date. as a precaution john dene sent to england by another ship his twin brother, known as james grant. when everything was ready the two changed places; that accounted for the strangeness of manner that miss west noticed with mr. dene a few days before his disappearance." malcolm sage then went on to explain the method by which the false john dene had been kidnapped, and of department z.'s discovery with relation to mr. montagu naylor. "but all that time what happened to the _destroyer_?" "the _destroyer_ was responsible for the extraordinary increase in the mortality among u-boats." mr. llewellyn john jumped from his chair as if he had been thrown up by a hidden spring. "but--but----" he began. "mr. dene hit upon a clever ruse," continued sage, "and----" "but the advertisements! did you know this at the time?" "it was known at department z., sir, and the advertisements were to convince the hun of our eagerness to find john dene so that we might start operations." "i see, i see," cried mr. llewellyn john; "but how on earth did you ferret all this out?" "we just sat down, sir, and waited for the other side to make mistakes," said malcolm sage quietly, "just as the opposition does in the house of commons," he added slyly. and mr. llewellyn john smiled. "it was better to say nothing about the finlay business," said malcolm sage, as he and colonel walton walked back to st. james's square. "it's results they're concerned with." colonel walton nodded. "we must see john dene, however," he said. "if only for the good of his own soul," said sage, as he knocked his pipe against a railing. chapter xix commander john dene goes to bournemouth i late one afternoon when dorothy and mrs. west were walking along the christchurch road on their way back to the boarding-house for dinner, dorothy suddenly gave vent to an exclamation, and with both hands clutched her mother's arm so fiercely that she winced with the pain. "look, mother," she cried, "it's----" following the direction of her daughter's eyes mrs. west saw walking sturdily towards them on the other side of the road, a man in the uniform of a naval commander. in his mouth was a cigar, from which he was puffing volumes of smoke. with a little cry mrs. west recognised him. it was john dene of toronto. there was no mistaking that truculent, aggressive air of a man who knows his own mind, and is determined that every one else shall know it too. suddenly dorothy released her mother's arm and, running across the road, planted herself directly in john dene's path. "mr. dene!" she cried, when he was within a yard or two of her. several passers-by turned their heads. for a fraction of a moment john dene gazed at the apparition in front of him, not recognising dorothy in the white frock and large hat that shaded her eyes. then with what was to him a super-smile, he held out his hand. "say, this is bully," he cried, giving dorothy a grip that caused her to wince. "i've just been to your apartment-house and found you out." then catching sight of mrs. west, "why, there's your mother," he cried and, gripping dorothy's arm with an enthusiasm that she was convinced would leave bruises, he guided her across the road. a moment later mrs. west was having the greatest difficulty in preserving a straight face under john dene's vigorous greeting. "i've been chasing all over robin hood's barn to find you," he cried, still clasping mrs. west's hand. "and according to the papers other people have been doing the same with you," said dorothy, deciding in her own mind that john dene ought to spend the rest of his life in uniform. it gave him a distinction that hitherto he had lacked in the ill-cut and ill-made clothes he habitually wore. "i found these waiting for me at my hotel," he said, looking down at himself, as if divining her thoughts. "i ordered them way back," he added. "you look very nice, mr. dene," said mrs. west, smiling happily. she had not yet recovered from her surprise. "all the girls are turning and envying mother and me," said dorothy mischievously. "envying you?" john dene turned upon her a look of interrogation. "for being with you," she explained. for some reason john dene's face fell. mrs. west hastened to the rescue. "we've all been so anxious about you," she smiled. "we--we thought----" "and shall i get twenty thousand pounds if i give you up to a policeman?" asked dorothy. she felt she wanted to cry from sheer happiness. "reward's withdrawn. haven't you seen the papers?" he said practically; "but they nearly did for jim," he added inconsequently. "jim!" repeated dorothy. "who is jim?" "my brother," was the reply. "he took my place and i went north." "oooooooh!" gradually light was dawning upon dorothy. "then it wasn't you who forgot where the stamps were kept and," she added wickedly, "seemed to disapprove of me so." "disapprove of _you_!" john dene managed to precipitate such a wealth of meaning into the words that dorothy felt herself blushing furiously. even mrs. west appeared a little embarrassed at his directness. "here, it's about time we had some food," he said, turning his wrist to see the time. "we were just going home to dinner," said mrs. west. "won't you come with us?" "i want you to come right along to my hotel. i've booked a table for you." "that's not very complimentary to our attractiveness, mr. dene," said dorothy. again john dene turned to her with a puzzled look in his eyes. "you should have assumed that two such desirable people as mother and me were dining out every night, shouldn't he, mother?" john dene turned to mrs. west, his brows meeting in a frown of uncertainty. "dorothy will never be serious," she explained with a little sigh. "she's only joking," whereat john dene's face cleared, and without further ado he hailed a taxi. as sir bridgman north had said, john dene never waited to be contradicted. that evening many of the diners at the imperial turned their heads in the direction of a table at which sat a man in the uniform of a naval commander, a fair-haired girl and a little white-haired lady, the happiness of whose face seemed to arouse responsive smiles in those who gazed at her. slowly and haltingly john dene told of what had happened since that wednesday night some three months before when his brother had taken his place. although john dene never hesitated when telling of what he was going to do, he seemed to experience considerable difficulty in narrating what he had actually done. "and aren't you happy?" enquired dorothy, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the story of what the _destroyer_, her _destroyer_, had done. "sure," he replied, looking straight into her eyes, whereat she dropped her gaze to the peach upon her plate. "i feel very proud that i know you, mr. dene," said mrs. west, her eyes moist with happiness. "proud to know me!" he repeated, and then as if mrs. west's statement held some subtle humour that he alone had seen, he smiled. "why do you smile?" asked dorothy, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. "well, it tickled me some." "what did?" she demanded. "that anyone should be proud to know me," he said simply. "perhaps it's because you've never gingered mother up," said dorothy pertly. "dorothy!" mrs. west looked anxiously at john dene, but his eyes were on dorothy. "and are you glad to know me?" he demanded "'proud' was the word," corrected dorothy, playing with her fruit knife. "'glad' will do," he said, watching her keenly. "are you glad i'm back." "'you see i'm your secretary," she said demurely, "and i'm--i'm paid to be glad, aren't i?" john dene's face fell. "when you get to know her better," said mrs. west, "you will see that she only teases her friends." "and her poor mother," put in dorothy. "when do we resume work, mr. dene?" she asked, turning to him. "we'll go back to-morrow a.m.," he said, obviously relieved at the suggestion. "but our holidays!" cried dorothy in mock consternation. "you can have as long a vacation as you like when i'm through," was the answer, and dorothy drew a sigh of relief. she was longing to get back to work. that night she and mrs. west sat up until dawn was fingering the east, talking of the miraculous reappearance of john dene of toronto, as they leisurely packed ready for the morrow. ii for nearly an hour john dene had sat in his chair listening. from time to time he gave to the unlit half-cigar in his mouth a rapid twirl with his tongue; but beyond that he had manifested no sign of emotion. quietly and as succinctly as possible malcolm sage had gone over the happenings of the last few months, telling of the discovery of mr. montagu naylor's secret code, how it had enabled department z. to enlarge the scope of its operations, how finlay had hampered mr. naylor in his murderous intentions with regard to his prisoner by suggesting the displeasure that would be created in high quarters, if anything happened to john dene before the plans of the _destroyer_ had been secured. "i didn't figure on jim getting corralled," said john dene at length. "that was where your reasoning was at fault," was malcolm sage's quiet retort. "i warned him," began john dene; then a moment later he added, "i'd hate to have anything happen to jim. he seems all used up." "he'll be all right in a month or so," said colonel walton reassuringly. "he's always sort of been around when i've wanted things done, has jim," continued john dene with a note of real feeling in his voice. "he's a white man, clean to the bone." malcolm sage had already learned all he wanted to know with regard to james dene. quiet, taciturn, seldom uttering more than a word or two at a time, and then only when absolutely necessary, he was entirely devoid of the brilliant qualities of his brother, for whom, however, he possessed an almost dog-like affection. all their lives it had been john who had planned things, and james who had stood admiringly by. "i was tickled to death about those advertisements," said john dene presently. "you probably thought we were barking up the wrong tree," suggested colonel walton. "sure, until you put me wise." "we were trying to play into your hands and save your brother," said malcolm sage, as he knocked the ashes from his pipe against the heel of his boot, and proceeded to stuff tobacco into the bowl. "if it hadn't been for those advertisements----" began john dene, then he paused. "the first hole dug in mr. naylor's back-garden would have been filled-in again," said sage quietly. "but how did they manage jim after he'd got into that taxi?" "the driver released a multiple curtain that fell over his head. as it dropped chloroform was sprayed over it. quite a simple automatic contrivance." there was a look in john dene's eyes that would have been instructive to mr. naylor could he have seen it. "they took him right out into the country," continued sage, "then brought him to and doped him. he was taken to 'the cedars' between one and two the next morning. that was where we picked up the scent again," he added. as sage ceased speaking, colonel walton offered his cigar-case to john dene, who, taking a cigar proceeded to light it. "by the way, mr. dene," said sage casually, "do you remember some one treading on your toe at king's cross the night you were going north. you were quite annoyed about it." john dene nodded and looked across at sage, as if expecting something further. "that was one of our men." "but----" "i told him to tread on your toe," proceeded malcolm sage, "so that you might remember that department z. was not quite so----" "now it gets me," cried john dene. "it was you who trod on my foot at the theatre." "at 'chu chin chow,'" said malcolm sage, smiling. "seems to be a sort of stunt of yours," said john dene as he rose. "going, mr. dene?" enquired colonel walton. "yep!" he said, as he shook hands with each in turn, then with an air of conviction added: "i take it all back. you'd do well in t'ronto:" and with a nod he went out. "i wonder if that's a testimonial to us, or a reflection upon toronto," murmured malcolm sage, as he polished his nails with a silk handkerchief. "what i like about colonials," remarked colonel walton drily, "is their uncompromising directness." whilst john dene was removing, from the list of things that required gingering-up, department z. and its two chiefs, mr. llewellyn john was engaged in reading commander ryles's report upon the operations of the _destroyer_. it proved to be one of the most remarkable documents of the war. first it described how the _destroyer_ had hung about the danish coast, but had been greatly embarrassed by the density of the water, owing to the shallowness of the north sea. she had carefully to seek out the clear passages where the depth was sufficiently great to prevent the discolouration of water by sand. after the first few weeks the _destroyer_ had been brought south, there to catch u-boats soon after they submerged. that was where the germans suffered their greatest losses. once the _destroyer_ had penetrated right into the heligoland bight, her "eyes" enabling her to avoid submerged mines and entanglements. commander ryles had himself witnessed the destruction of thirty-four u-boats. three times the _destroyer_ had returned to her base to re-victual and recharge her batteries, also to rest her crew. at the termination of the third trip, it had been decided that the boat was badly in need of a thorough overhaul, and in accordance with the instructions received, he had prepared his report and brought it south in order that he might deliver it in person to the first lord. when he had finished the lengthy document, mr. llewellyn john laid it on the table beside him. for some minutes he sat thinking. presently he pressed the knob of the bell. as a secretary appeared he said, "ring through to sir roger flynn, and tell him i shall be delighted if he can breakfast with me to-morrow." and mr. llewellyn john smiled. chapter xx john dene's proposal marjorie rogers had entered the outer office at waterloo place expecting to find dorothy. instead, john dene sat half-turned in her direction, with one arm over the back of the chair. "she's gone home," he said, divining the cause of marjorie's call. the girl slipped into the room, softly closing the door behind her, and walked a hesitating step or two in john dene's direction, a picture of shy maidenhood. marjorie rogers was an instinctive actress. "gone home!" she repeated as a conversational opening. "is she ill?" she gave him a look from beneath her lashes, a look she had found equally deadly with subs and captains. john dene shook his head, but continued to gaze at her. he was a very difficult man to talk to, marjorie decided. she had already come to the conclusion that she had been wrong in her suspicion that he made love to dorothy. "you don't like us, do you, mr. dene?" she made a half-step in his direction, dropping her eyes and drawing in her under lip in a way that had once nearly caused a rear-admiral to strike his colours. "like who?" demanded john dene, wondering why the girl stayed now that he had told her dorothy had gone home. "us girls." marjorie flashed at him the sub-captain look. "may i sit down?" she asked softly. "sure." john dene was regarding her much as he might a blue zebra that had strayed into his office. "thank you, mr. dene." marjorie sat down, crossing her legs in a way that gave him the full benefit of a dainty foot and ankle. she had on her very best silk stockings, silk all the way up, so that there need be no anxiety as to the exact whereabouts of her skirt. "i have been wondering about wessie----" "wessie, who's she, a cat?" marjorie dimpled, then she laughed outright. "you are funny, mr. dene," and again she drew in her lower lip and raked him with her eyes. "who's wessie, anyhow?" he demanded. "wessie's dorothy," she explained. "you see," she went on, "her name's west and----" "i get you." john dene continued to regard her with a look that suggested he was still at a loss to account for her presence. "as i said," she continued, "i've been wondering about dorothy." "wondering what?" john dene was certainly a most difficult man to talk to, she decided. "she's thinner," announced marjorie after a slight pause. "thinner?" "yes, not so fat." how absurd he was with his---- "she never was fat." there was decision in john dene's tone. "you know, mr. dene, you're very difficult for a girl to talk to," said marjorie. "i never had time to learn," he said simply. "i think it's through you, mr. dene." she gave him a little fugitive smile she had learned from an american film, and had practised assiduously at home. "what's through me?" he demanded, hopelessly at sea as to her drift. "at first i thought you were working her too hard, mr. dene, but," she added hastily, as if in anticipation of protest, "but--but----" "but what?" john dene rapped out the words with a peremptoriness that startled marjorie. "but when you got lost----" she hesitated. "got what?" "i mean when you disappeared," she added hastily, "then i knew." "knew what?" marjorie no longer had any doubts about john dene's interest in dorothy. he had swung round his chair, and was now seated directly facing her. "you know she worried," continued marjorie, "and she got pale and----" again she paused. john dene continued to stare in a way that made her frightened to look up, although she watched him furtively through her lowered lashes. "is that what you came here to say?" demanded john dene. "i--i came to see dorothy, and now i must run away," she cried, jumping up. "i've got an appointment. good-bye, mr. dene. thank you for asking me in;" and she held out her hand, which john dene took as a man takes a circular thrust upon him. a moment later marjorie had fluttered out, closing the door behind her. "well, that's given him something to think about," she murmured, as she walked down the stairs. "wessie must have me down to stay with her. he's sure to get a title;" and she made for the tube, there to join the westward-rolling tide of patient humanity that cheerfully pays for a seat and hangs on a strap. for nearly an hour john dene sat at his table as marjorie had left him, twirling in his mouth a half-smoked cigar that had not been alight since the early morning. his face was expressionless, but in his eyes there was a strange new light. the next morning when dorothy arrived at the office, she found sir bridgman north with john dene, who was angry. "just because somebody's lost a spanner, or a screw-driver, they're raising cain about it. look at all these," and he waved a bunch of papers in front of sir bridgman. "it's a way they have in the navy. we never lose sight of anything." "except the main issue, winning the war," snapped john dene. "oh, we'll get on with that when we've found the spanner," laughed sir bridgman good humouredly. "i don't want to be worried about a ten cent spanner, and have a couple of letters a day about it," grumbled john dene, "and i won't have it." "what i used to do," said sir bridgman, "was just to tell them that everything possible should be done. then they feel happier and don't worry so much. why i once lost a -inch gun, and they were quite nice about it when i told them that somebody must have put it aside for safety, and that it had probably got mislaid in consequence. i never found that gun. you see, dene," he added a moment later, "we indent everything--except an admiral, and it doesn't matter much if he gets lost." john dene grumbled something in his throat. he was still smarting under the demands from the stores department to produce forthwith the missing article. "now i must be off," said sir bridgman, and with a nod to john dene and a smile to dorothy he departed. all the morning john dene was restless. he seemed unable to concentrate upon anything. several times he span round in his revolving chair with a "say, miss west;" but as soon as dorothy raised her eyes from her work, he seemed to lose the thread of his ideas and, with a mumbled incoherence, turned to the mechanical sorting of the papers before him. dorothy was puzzled to account for his strangeness of manner, and after a time determined that he must be ill. presently he jumped up and began restlessly pacing the room. three times he paused beside dorothy as she was engaged in checking inventories. immediately she looked up, he pivoted round on his heel and restarted the pacing, twirling between his lips the cigar that had gone out an hour before. on the fourth occasion that he stood looking down at her, dorothy turned. "if you do that, i shall scream," she cried. he stepped back a pace, obviously disconcerted by her threat. "do what?" he enquired. "why, prance up and down like that, and then come and stand over me. it--it makes me nervous," she added lamely, as she returned to her work. "sorry," said john dene, as he threw himself once more into his chair. suddenly with an air of decision, dorothy put down her pencil and turning, faced him. "aren't you well, mr. dene?" she inquired. "well," he repeated with some asperity. "of course i'm well." "oh!" she said, disconcerted by his manner. then for a moment there was silence. "why shouldn't i be well?" he demanded uncompromisingly. "no reason at all," said dorothy indifferently, "only----" she paused. "only what?" he enquired sharply. "only," she continued calmly, "you seem a little--a little--may i say jumpy?" she looked up at him with a smile. without replying he sprang from his chair, and once more started pacing the room with short, nervous strides, his head thrust forward, his left hand in his jacket pocket, his right hanging loosely at his side. "that's it!" he exclaimed at last. dorothy continued to regard him in wonder. something of vital importance must have happened, she decided, to produce this effect on a man of john dene's character. "it's--it's not the _destroyer_" she cried breathlessly at last. "nothing has happened?" john dene shook his head vigorously, and continued his "prancing." "then what----" began dorothy. "listen," he said. "i've never had any use for women," he began, then stopped suddenly and stood looking straight at her. dorothy groaned inwardly, convinced that she was about to be dismissed. in a flash there surged through her mind all that this would mean. she might be taken on again by the admiralty; but at less than half her present salary. it was really rather bad luck, she told herself, when the extra money meant so much to her, and she really had tried to be worth it. "you see, i don't understand them." the remark broke in upon her thoughts as something almost silly in its irrelevancy. again she looked up at him as he stood before her rather as if expecting rebuke. again he span round and continued his pacing of the room. as he walked he threw staccatoed remarks from him rather than directed them at dorothy. "there's nothing wrong with the _destroyer_. when you're after one thing you don't seem to notice all the other things buzzing around. one day you wake up to find out that you've been missing things. i've been telling myself all the time that some things didn't matter, but they do." he paused in front of dorothy, expressing the last three words with almost savage emphasis. "there's never been anybody except jim--and the boys," he added, "until your mother was----" he stopped dead, then a moment later continued: "i'd like her to know." to dorothy his voice seemed a little husky. "may be it'ud please her to think that she had--you see i'm telling you the whole shooting-match," he blurted out as he resumed his restless pacing up and down. "but that's just what you're not doing," said dorothy. "i don't in the least understand what you mean, and---- oh, i wish you could stand still, if only for a minute." instantly john dene stopped in his walk, and stood in the middle of the room looking over dorothy's head. "i'm trying to ask you to marry me, only i haven't got the sand to do it," he blurted out almost angrily. "oh!" dorothy's hands slipped into her lap, her eyes widened and her lips parted, as she looked up at him utterly dumbfounded. "there, i knew what it would mean," he said, as he continued his pacing. "what have i got to offer? look at me. i'm not good-looking. my clothes are not right. i don't wear them properly. i can't say pretty things. the best i can do is to buy flowers and chocolates and express them. i daren't even hand them to you. oh, i've thought it all over. what use am i to a woman?" then as an after-thought he added, "to a girl?" he turned and paced away from dorothy without looking at her. "oh, shucks!" john dene swung round on his heel as if he had been struck. his jaw dropped, his cigar fell from his mouth, and he looked at her as if she had said the most surprising thing he had ever heard. "i said 'shucks'" she repeated. her eyelids flickered a little and she was unusually pale. "you mean----" his voice was far from steady. "i mean," said dorothy quietly, "that a man who could invent the _destroyer_ ought to be able to learn how to talk to--to--be nice to a girl." the last five words came tumbling over each other, as if she had found great difficulty in uttering them, and then had thrown them all out at one time. "say," he began, hope shining from his eyes. then he stopped abruptly and walked over to his chair, throwing himself into it with a sigh. "you mean." "perhaps," said dorothy, dropping her eyes and playing about with a fastening on her blouse, "i might be able to help you." then after a pause she added, "you know you got me a rise." and then john dene smiled. "say, this is great," he cried. "i--i----" then suddenly he jumped up, dashed for his hat and made for the door. as he opened it he threw over his shoulder: "we'll start right in to-morrow. i'm through with work for to-day. i'll be over to-night." then suddenly dorothy laughed. "was ever maid so wooed?" she murmured. "but----" and she left it at that. as she thrust the pins into her hat, she decided that john dene had been right. it would have been awkward to--to--well, to do anything but go home. just as she was about to lock the outer door of the office, she had an inspiration. returning to her table she removed her gloves and, after a few minutes' thought and reference to the london directory, she sat down to her typewriter and for a few minutes her fingers moved busily over the keys. with a determined air she pulled the sheet from the clips and read:-- "john dene of toronto. lesson . tailors . . . pond and co., sackville street. hosiers . . . tye brothers, jermyn street. bootmakers . ease & treadwell, bond street. hatters . . . messrs. bincoln and lennet, piccadilly. when a man knows his job, let him do it and don't butt in." with a determined little nod of approval, she folded the sheet of paper, inserted it in an envelope, which she addressed to "john dene, esq., the ritzton hotel, s.w. immediate," and left the office. "i wonder what you would think of that, mother mine," she murmured as she left the hotel, after having given strict injunctions that the note be handed to john dene immediately he returned. chapter xxi marjorie rogers pays a call "well, mother darling," cried dorothy, as she jerked the pins into her hat, "you've lost the odd trick." "the odd trick!" repeated mrs. west, looking up with a smile into her daughter's flushed and happy face. "what odd trick?" "john dene of toronto. whoop! i want to jazz. i wonder if he jazzes;" then, with a sudden change of mood she dropped down beside her mother's chair and buried her face in her lap. when she looked up her eyes were wet with tears. "mother, darling, i'm so happy." she smiled a rainbow smile. "what did you mean about the odd trick, dear?" enquired mrs. west greatly puzzled, accustomed as she was to her daughter's rapid change of mood. "john dene's the odd trick," she repeated, "and i'm going to marry him." again she hid her face. "dorothy!" "i am, mother, really and really." she looked up for a moment, then once more she buried her face in her mother's lap. "dorothy dear, what do you mean?" "oh! he was so funny when he proposed," gurgled dorothy, "and i just said 'shucks.' that seemed to please him." "dorothy dear, are you joking?" "not unless john dene's a joke, mother dear," she replied. "wouldn't it be funny to call him jack?" then she told her mother of the happenings of the afternoon. "please say you're glad," she said a little wistfully. "i'm--i'm so surprised, dear," said mrs. west, stroking her daughter's head gently; "but i'm glad, very glad." "i thought you would be, and i shall be lady dene. everybody at the admiralty says he'll get a title, and you'll have to say to the servants, 'is her ladyship at home?' you won't forget, mother, will you?" she looked up with mock anxiety into her mother's face. mrs. west smiled down at dorothy; her eyes too were wet. "but oh! there's such a lot of spade work to be done," continued dorothy. "i shall begin with his boots." "his boots!" "they're so dreadful, mother. they're all built up in front as if they were made to kick with, and when i marry him, if there's any kicking to be done, i'm going to do it." "of course you realise, dear, that he's much older than you," said mrs. west hesitatingly. "he's a perfect baby-in-arms compared with me," she smiled at her mother, a quaint confident little smile. "but you're sure that--that----" mrs. west hesitated. dorothy nodded her head violently. "when----" began mrs. west. "it--it was when he disappeared," she said with averted face. "i--i seemed to miss him so much. oh! but mother," she cried, clasping her mother's knee, "he's so funny, and really he wants someone to look after him. you see," she continued slowly, gazing away from her mother, "it's always difficult to---- what made you love--care for father?" she corrected. "he was your father, dear." "yes; but he wasn't before you married him." "dear, you----" began mrs. west, a flush of embarrassment mounting to her cheeks. "own up, mother, that you don't know. you can't say it was the shape of his nose, or the way he ate, or his chest measurement." "dorothy! why will you never be serious?" protested mrs. west. "i can't, mother," cried dorothy, jumping up and walking over to the window. "no girl ever really knows why she wants to marry a man," she remarked, gazing out of the window. "it's just a feeling. i've got a feeling that i want to take care of john dene, and--and--oh, mother! see to his boots," she finished with a laugh. "i like mr. dene, dorothy," said mrs. west with a decisiveness that was with her uncommon. "i know you do," said dorothy mischievously. "that's what i'm afraid of." "dorothy dear, you mustn't," began mrs. west. "and," continued dorothy relentlessly, "i won't have any poaching. i don't mind his being nice to you," she continued, leaving the window and planting herself in front of her mother, "because you really are rather nice." she tilted her head on one side, a picture of impudence. "now, mrs. west," she said, "the sooner we understand each other the better." again she was back on the stool at her mother's feet. for some minutes there was silence. "mother!" she looked up with grave and serious eyes. "yes, dear." "i always prayed for--for him to come back. i--i---- oh bother!" as the bell rang. "i wonder who that is. we won't answer it." "but we must, dear," expostulated mrs. west. "it might be a friend." "oh, well," cried dorothy, getting up and going out into the tiny hall. a moment later she re-entered, followed by marjorie rogers. "it's marjorie, mother." mrs. west smiled up at her as the girl bent to kiss her. "i've come to know," began marjorie, then she hesitated. "to know what?" asked dorothy. "if it's all right." "if what's all right?" "j. d." "what do you mean, rojjie?" cried dorothy, blushing. "did he propose? you know i ran in this afternoon and gave him a hint." "you what?" cried dorothy aghast. "oh! i just gave him a sort of hint that he was----" "you wretched little creature!" cried dorothy, seizing marjorie and shaking her vigorously. there was a look in her eyes that half frightened the girl. "help! oh, mrs. west!" cried marjorie, "she's killing me." "what did you say to him?" demanded dorothy fiercely. "i just gave him a hint," repeated marjorie airily. "i knew he was in love with you." "what did you say to him?" again dorothy shook her. "oh, wessie, if you do that you'll shake all my hair off, not to speak of my teeth. all i said was that you had wasted away when he was lost, and mind, you've got to ask me down to your place, wherever it is, because it's all through me. oughtn't she, mrs. west?" she appealed. mrs. west smiled a little uncertainly. "marjorie, you're a pig," cried dorothy, "and i don't believe you did go and see him." "oh! didn't i, then why do you suppose i've got my new stockings on?" she cried, lifting her skirts. "children, children," smiled mrs. west. "my chief says he'll be made a baronet, so that'll be all right for the kids," said marjorie. "rojjie!" cried dorothy in confusion, and a moment later she had rushed from the room. when dorothy returned to the little drawing-room a quarter of an hour later, she found that marjorie had accepted mrs. west's invitation to stay to dinner. "is he going to call this evening?" she asked eagerly. "don't be inquisitive," cried dorothy, conscious that she was blushing. "you're in love with him, dorothy, aren't you?" persisted marjorie. "oh, mother, please tread on this horrid little creature," cried dorothy; but mrs. west merely smiled. "you know," continued marjorie candidly, "he's not much to look at; but he beats all those boys at the admiralty." she shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "it's nothing but chocolates, lunches and dinners, and take it out in kisses." "my dear," said mrs. west with quiet dignity, "you mustn't talk like that." "i'm so sorry," cried marjorie contritely; "but you know i get so fed up, mrs. west. john dene's so different. if it hadn't have been for dorothy, i should have tried to get him for myself. i could," she added, looking from one to the other. "you could probably get anything in the world except what you most wanted, rojjie," said dorothy sweetly. "what i most wanted," repeated the girl. "yes, dear, a good spanking." marjorie made a face at her. suddenly she jumped up from the table, and throwing her arms round dorothy, kissed her impulsively, then a moment later she returned to her seat, a little shamefacedly as dorothy and mrs. west smiled across at her. "i know you think i'm a feather-headed little cat, mrs. west," said marjorie wisely. "no, don't deny it," she persisted, as mrs. west made a movement as if to speak. "but i'm not worldly all through, really, and i do like john dene, and of course i just love dollikins," she said with a quaint little smile in dorothy's direction. "would you sooner i went?" she asked, looking from one to the other. "sooner you went?" "yes, after dinner, i know that john dene's coming to-night, although dorothy won't own up." "we shouldn't let you go, should we, mother?" mrs. west smiled and shook her head. "oh, won't it be lovely," cried marjorie ecstatically, "when i refer to my friend, lady dene. and you will ask me down, wessie darling, won't you, and get a lot of nice boys." dorothy lowered her eyes to her plate and blushed. later in the evening when they were all sitting in the drawing-room and a ring at the bell was heard, marjorie danced about the room with excitement. "oh, please let me open the door," she cried. "i promise i won't kiss him." "no, dear," said mrs. west. "dorothy." with flaming cheeks and reluctant steps dorothy left the room. it seemed to marjorie a long time before she returned, followed by john dene, who, when he had greeted mrs. west, turned to marjorie and shook hands. "his boots, dorothy," whispered marjorie a minute later. dorothy looked down at john dene's feet. the ugly american "footwear" had been replaced by a pair of well-fitting brown boots. "please, mr. dene, may i be a bridesmaid?" "marjorie!" cried dorothy. "i may, mayn't i?" persisted marjorie. "i'm sure dorothy won't ask me unless you insist." "sure," replied john dene genially. he was always a different man when with mrs. west and dorothy. "you hear, dorothy. if you don't make me chief bridesmaid i shall--i shall create a disturbance and say it's bigamy or something, and that mr. dene has already got two wives in toronto, not to speak of salt lake city. and now i must be running away. oh! mrs. west, you said you would give me that pattern," she said suddenly. "that pattern, dear," began mrs. west, whilst dorothy felt her cheeks burn. "yes, don't you remember?" "what pattern?" began mrs. west, then conscious that marjorie was making hideous grimaces at her, she rose and walked towards the door, leaving john dene and dorothy alone. "no one would ever think you were married, mrs. west," said marjorie severely, as they walked into the dining-room. "don't you know that young people want to be alone when they're only just engaged." this with such a serious little air of womanly worldliness that mrs. west's smile almost developed into a laugh. "don't you think, mrs. west, that god must be pleased when two nice people come together?" said marjorie gravely. mrs. west looked at her with slightly widening eyes, then recovering herself, said, "god is always glad because of happiness, dear." and marjorie nodded her head as if in entire agreement with the sentiment. an hour later, when marjorie had gone, mrs. west entered the drawing-room, having been sent in by dorothy to entertain john dene whilst she wrote a letter. after a few commonplaces they sat in silence, john dene smoking lustily, mrs. west happy in her thoughts. it was the good lord, she decided, who had ordained that dorothy and john dene should fall in love with each other, and thus crown with happiness the autumn of her days. "i've been trying to figure out all the afternoon why she said 'shucks,'" john dene suddenly burst in upon her thoughts in a way that startled her. "said 'shucks!'" she repeated. mrs. west had a habit of repeating a phrase when not quite understanding it, or desirous of gaining time before framing her reply. "sure." "but who said 'shucks'?" she asked, lifting her brows in an endeavour to comprehend, "and--what are 'shucks,' mr. dene?" "shucks," repeated john dene in his turn, "shucks are--are----" he paused, then as if determining that this was a side issue he added: "when i told her to-day that i'd never had any use for girls, and--and----" he looked at mrs. west helplessly. she smiled. "she just said 'shucks.'" "i think she must have meant that you were too modest," said mrs. west softly. "me modest!" john dene sat up straight in his surprise. "i think that is what she must have meant." "i take it that down at the admiralty they don't figure it out that way," he said grimly. "me modest," he repeated. "what have i got to give any girl," he continued presently, "and a girl like--dorothy." the name seemed to come with difficulty. "i'm all wrong," he added with conviction. "i can't talk----" "we love you just for yourself, john," said mrs. west gently. for a moment there was a look of surprise in john dene's eye, then with great deliberation he rose and, walking over to mrs. west, bent down and kissed her cheek. "oh!" john dene started up and, turning to the door, saw dorothy standing on the threshold looking from one to the other, her eyes dancing with mischief. mrs. west had flushed rosily, and with downcast eyes gave the impression of one who had been caught in some illicit act. "so this is what you two get up to when i leave the room," said dorothy severely. "sure," said john dene, "and we'll be getting up to it again, won't we, mother?" and john dene smiled. the end. [transcriber's note: underscored text is indicated by tildes (~), e.g. ~this is underscored~.] books by herbert jenkins bindle some chapters in the life of joseph bindle. one of the most popular books ever written. the night club further episodes in the career of bindle. no less than , copies were called for within a few weeks of publication. adventures of bindle still more about j. b. two editions, completing , copies, were ordered before the book appeared. mrs. bindle incidents from the life of the bindles. among other things it tells how mrs. bindle met a bull. the bindles on the rocks another volume of stories of the bindle ménage. poor old bindle loses his job and hard times are endured. john dene of toronto a comedy of whitehall which struck a new note and achieved new success. malcolm sage, detective some chapters from the records of the malcolm sage bureau. a book of thrills and mystery. patricia brent, spinster a comedy of the times, that has stirred five continents to laughter. the rain-girl a romance of to-day, telling how richard beresford set out to tramp the roads as a vagabond. the return of alfred a comedy of mis-identification by which a man is proclaimed a returned prodigal. the stiffsons the troubles of mr. and mrs. stiffson, and how mr. stiffson bought a parrot. the book also contains other stories. the herbert jenkins' wireless the herbert jenkins' wireless is published monthly and it is priceless. in other words it will be sent post-free to all book-lovers--and others. it tells all about the latest herbert jenkins' books. it also contains many good stories and interesting personalities--in the best sense of the term. there are facts about authors and fictions about publishers. above all there is real information about books, not just press-opinions and other people's opinions, but what a book is about. one enthusiastic reader of the herbert jenkins' wireless writes that it has enabled him to discontinue his subscriptions to punch and the times literary supplement! the star in big headlines refers to the h. j. wireless as "gingering up the book trade," and goes on to say that "nothing so ingenious has yet been issued in this country." are you going to send for it to herbert jenkins ltd., , york street, st. james's, london, s.w. ? * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | | been preserved. | | | | obvious typographical errors have been corrected. for | | a complete list, please see the end of this document. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | the book and the author | | | | john l. spivak comes closer to the popular conception of the | | ace journalist than any other living writer. combining the | | instinct of a detective with the resourcefulness of a | | reporter, and gifted with a hard-hitting, breezy style, he | | has time and again "scooped the world," "gotten the | | story"--despite powerful opposition and personal danger that | | might well have daunted less hardy souls. | | | | but there is an important difference that sets spivak apart | | from most other gentlemen of the press. for several years he | | has devoted his bright and sharp pen solely to uncovering | | evidence of fascist activities in the united | | states--evidence that is credited with having set off | | several official investigations exposing un-american, | | foreign-dominated propaganda. | | | | secret armies climaxes spivak's exposures. his sensational | | inside story of hitler's far-flung, under-cover poison | | campaign in the americas would seem scarcely credible, were | | it not so thoroughly documented with original letters and | | records, citing chapter and verse, naming names, dates and | | places. his unanswerable, uncontradicted facts should go far | | toward jolting many of us out of our false sense of | | security. | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ _books by john l. spivak_ the devil's brigade georgia nigger america faces the barricades europe under the terror secret armies _the new technique of nazi warfare_ [illustration] john l. spivak modern age books, inc. fourth avenue new york copyright by john l. spivak published by modern age books, inc. fourth avenue new york city _all rights in this book are reserved, and it may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the holder of these rights. for information address the publishers._ _first printing, february _ _second printing, march _ _printed in the united states of america_ _contents_ chapter page preface i czechoslovakia--before the carving ii england's cliveden set iii france's secret fascist army iv dynamite under mexico v surrounding the panama canal vi secret agents arrive in america vii nazi spies and american "patriots" viii henry ford and secret nazi activities ix nazi agents in american universities x underground armies in america xi the dies committee suppresses evidence xii conclusion _illustrations_ page application in the secret order of ' by sidney brooks letter from harry a. jung anti-semitic handbill letter from peter v. armstrong letter to peter v. armstrong account card of reverend gerald b. winrod sample of "capitol news & feature service" letter from _wessington springs independent_ letter from general rodriguez letter from general rodriguez letter from henry allen anti-semitic sticker and german titlepage of book by henry ford letter from olov e. tietzow judgment showing conviction of e.f. sullivan - letter from carl g. orgell letter from g. moshack letter from e.a. vennekohl _preface_ the material in this small volume just barely scratches the surface of a problem which is becoming increasingly grave: the activities of nazi agents in the united states, mexico, and central america. during the past five years i have observed some of them, watching the original, crudely organized and directed propaganda machine develop, grow and leave an influence far wider than most people seem to realize. what at first appeared to be merely a distasteful attempt by nazi government officials at direct interference in the affairs of the american people and their government, has now assumed the more sinister aspect of also seeking american naval and military secrets. further studies in central america, mexico and the panama canal zone disclosed an espionage network directed by the rome-berlin-tokyo axis and operating against the peace and security of the united states. a scrutiny of the nazi fifth column[ ] in a few european countries, especially in czechoslovakia just before that republic was turned over to germany's mercy by the munich "peace" and in france where nazi and italian agents built an amazing secret underground army, has made the fascist activities in the western hemisphere somewhat clearer to me. i have included one chapter detailing events which cannot, so far as i have been able to discover, be traced directly to nazi espionage; but it shows the influence of nazi ideology upon england's now notorious "cliveden set," which maneuvered the betrayal of austria, sacrificed czechoslovakia and is working in devious ways to strengthen hitler in europe. the "cliveden set" has already had so profound an effect upon the growth and influence of fascism throughout the world, that i thought it advisable to include it. the sources for most of the material, by its very nature, naturally cannot be revealed. those conversations which i quote directly came from people who were present when they occurred or, as in the case of the cagoulards in france, from official records. in the chapter on czechoslovakia i quote a conversation between a nazi spy and his chief. the details came to me from a source which in the past i had found accurate. subsequently, the spy was arrested by czech secret police, and his confession substantiated the conversation as i have given it. much of the material in this volume has been published in various periodicals from time to time, but so many americans feel that concern over nazi penetration in this country is exaggerated, that i hope even this brief and incomplete picture will serve to impress the reader, as it has impressed me, with the gravity of the situation. j.l.s. footnotes: [ ] when the spanish insurgents were investing madrid early in november, , newspaper correspondents asked insurgent general emilio mola which of his four columns would take the city. mola replied enigmatically: "the fifth column." he referred to the fascist sympathizers within madrid--those attempting to abet the defeat of the spanish government by means of spying, sabotage and terrorism. the term "fifth column" is today widely used to describe the various fascist and nazi organizations operating within the borders of non-fascist nations. i _czechoslovakia--before the carving_ it is pretty generally admitted now that the munich "peace" gave germany industrial and military areas essential to further aggressions. instead of helping to put a troubled europe on the road to lasting peace, munich strengthened the totalitarian powers, especially germany, and a strengthened germany inevitably means increased activities of the nazis' fifth column which is, in all quarters of the globe, actively preparing the ground for hitler's greater plans. if we can divine the future by the past, the fifth column, that shadowy group of secret agents now entrenched in every important country throughout the world, is an omen of what is to come. before germany marched into austria, that unhappy country witnessed a large influx of fifth column members. in czechoslovakia, especially in those months before the republic's heart was handed to hitler on a platter, there was a tremendous increase in the numbers and activities of agents sent into the central european country. during my stay there in the brief period immediately preceding the "peace," i learned a little about the operations of the gestapo's secret agents in czechoslovakia. their numbers are vast and those few of whom i learned, are infinitesimal to the actual numbers at work then and now, not only in czechoslovakia but in other countries. what i learned of those few, however, shows how the gestapo, the nazi secret service, operates in its ruthless drive. for years hitler had laid plans to fight, if he had to, for czechoslovakia, whose natural mountain barriers and man-made defensive line of steel and concrete stood in the way of his announced drive to the ukrainian wheat fields. in preparation for the day when he might have to fight for its control, he sent into the republic a host of spies, provocateurs, propagandists and saboteurs to establish themselves, make contacts, carry on propaganda and build a machine which would be invaluable in time of war. in a few instances i learned the details of the nazis' inexorable determination and their inhuman indifference to the lives of even their own agents. arno oertel, _alias_ harald half, was a thin, white-faced spy trained in two gestapo schools for fifth column work. oertel was given a german passport by richter, the gestapo district chief at bischofswerda on what was then the czechoslovak-german frontier. "you will proceed to prague," richter instructed him, "and lose yourself in the city. as soon as it is safe, go to langenau near boehmisch-leipa and report to frau anna suchy.[ ] she will give you further instructions." oertel nodded. it was his first important espionage job--assigned to him after the twenty-five-year-old secret agent had finished his intensive course in the special gestapo training school in zossen (brandenburg), one of the many schools established by the nazi secret service to train agents for various activities. after his graduation oertel had been given minor practical training in politically disruptive work in anti-fascist organizations across the czech border where he had posed as a german emigré. there he had shown such aptitude that his gestapo chief at sector headquarters in dresden, herr geissler, sent him to czechoslovakia on a special mission. oertel hesitated. "naturally i'll take all possible precautions but--accidents may happen." richter nodded. "if you are caught and arrested, demand to see the german consul immediately," he said. "if you are in a bad predicament, we'll request your extradition on a criminal charge--burglary with arms, attempted murder--some non-political crime. we've got a treaty with czechoslovakia to extradite germans accused of criminal acts but--" the gestapo chief opened the top drawer of his desk and took a small capsule from a box. "if you find yourself in an utterly hopeless situation, swallow this." he handed the pellet to the nervous young man. "cyanide," richter said. "tie it up in a knot in your handkerchief. it will not be taken from you if you are arrested. there is always an opportunity while being searched to take it." oertel tied the pellet in a corner of his handkerchief and placed it in his breast pocket. "you are to make two reports," richter continued. "one for frau suchy, the other for the contact in prague. she'll get you in touch with him." anna suchy, when oertel reported to her, gave him specific orders: "on august [ ], at five o'clock in the afternoon, you will sit on a bench near the fountain in karlsplatz in prague. a man dressed in a gray suit, gray hat, with a blue handkerchief showing from the breast pocket of his coat, will ask you for a light for his cigarette. give him the light and accept a cigarette from the gentleman. he will give you detailed instructions on what to do and how to meet the prague contact to whom in turn you will report." at the appointed hour oertel sat on a bench staring at the fountain, watching men and women strolling and chatting cheerfully on the way to meet friends for late afternoon coffee. occasionally he looked at the afternoon papers lying on the bench beside him. he felt that he was being watched but he saw no one in a gray suit with a blue handkerchief. he wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, partly because of the heat, partly because of nervousness. as he held the handkerchief he could feel the tightly bound capsule. precisely at five he noticed a man in a gray suit with a gray hat and a blue handkerchief in the breast pocket of his coat, strolling toward him. as the man approached he took out a package of cigarettes, selected one and searched his pockets for a light. stopping before oertel, he doffed his hat and smilingly asked for a light. oertel produced his lighter and the other in turn offered him a cigarette. he sat down on the bench. "report once a week," he said abruptly, puffing at his cigarette and staring at two children playing in the sunshine which flooded karlsplatz. he stretched his feet like a man relaxing after a hard day's work. "deliver reports to frau suchy personally. one week she will come to prague, the next you go to her. deliver a copy of your report to the english missionary, vicar robert smith, who lives at karlsplatz." smith, to whom the unidentified man in the gray suit told oertel to report, was a minister of the church of scotland in prague, a british subject with influential connections not only with english-speaking people but with czech government officials.[ ] besides his ministerial work, the reverend smith led an amateur orchestra group giving free concerts for german emigrés. on his clerical recommendation, he got german "emigré" women into england as house servants for british government officials and army officers. the far-flung gestapo network in czechoslovakia concentrated much of its activities along the former german-czech border. in prague, even today when germany has achieved what she said was all she wanted in europe, the network reaches into all branches of the government, the military forces and emigré anti-fascist groups. the country, before it was cut to pieces and even now, is honeycombed with gestapo agents sent from germany with false passports or smuggled across the border. often the gestapo uses czech citizens whose relatives are in germany and upon whom pressure is put. the work of these agents consists not only of ferreting out military information regarding czech defense measures and establishing contacts with czech citizens for permanent espionage, but of the equally important assignment of disrupting anti-fascist groups--of creating opposition within organizations having large memberships in order to split and disintegrate them. agents also make reports on public opinion and attitudes, and record carefully the names and addresses of those engaged in anti-fascist work. a similar procedure was followed in austria before that country was invaded, and it enabled the nazis to make wholesale arrests immediately upon entering the country. prague, with a german population of sixty thousand is still the headquarters for the astonishing espionage and propaganda machine which the gestapo built throughout the country. before czechoslovakia was cut up, most of the espionage reports crossed the frontier into germany through tetschen-bodenbach. the propaganda and espionage center of the henlein group was in the headquarters of the _sudeten deutsche partei_ at hybernska st. a secondary headquarters, in the _deutscher hilfsverein_ at nekazanka st., was directed by emil wallner, who was ostensibly representing the leipzig fair but was actually the chief of the gestapo machine in prague. his assistant, hermann dorn, living in hanspaulka-dejvice, masqueraded as the representative of the _muenchner illustrierte zeitung_. some aspects of the nazi espionage and propaganda machine in czechoslovakia hold especial interest for american immigration authorities since into the united states, too, comes a steady flow of the shadowy members of the nazis' fifth column. it is well to know that the letters and numbers at the top of passports inform german diplomatic representatives the world over that the bearer usually is a gestapo agent. whenever american immigration authorities find german passports with letters and numbers at the top, they may be reasonably sure that the bearer is an agent. these numbers are placed on passports by gestapo headquarters in berlin or dresden. the agent's photograph and a sample of his (or her) handwriting is sent via the diplomatic pouch to the nazi embassy, legation, consulate or german bund in the country or city to which the agent is assigned. when the agent reports in a foreign city, the resident gestapo chief, in order to identify him, checks the passport's top number with the picture and the handwriting received by diplomatic pouch. rudolf walter voigt, _alias_ walter clas, _alias_ heinz leonhard, _alias_ herbert frank--names which he used throughout europe in his espionage work will serve as an illustration. voigt was sent to prague on a delicate mission. his job was to discover how czechs got to spain to fight in the international brigade, a mystery in berlin since such czechs had to cross italy, germany or other fascist countries which cooperate with the gestapo. voigt was given passport no. , , made out in the name of walter clas, and bearing at the top of the passport the letters and numbers a . he was instructed, by leader wilhelm may of dresden, to report to the henlein party headquarters upon his arrival in prague. clas, _alias_ voigt, arrived october , , reported at the sudeten party headquarters and saw a man whom i was unable to identify. he was instructed to report again four days later, since information about the agent had not yet arrived. voigt was trained in the gestapo espionage schools in potsdam and calmuth-remagen. he operates directly under wilhelm may whose headquarters are in dresden. may is in charge of gestapo work over sector no. . preceding the granting to hitler of the sudeten areas in czechoslovakia, the entire czech border espionage and terrorist activity was divided into sectors. at this writing the same sector divisions still exist, operating now across the new frontiers. sector no. embraces silesia with headquarters at breslau; no. , saxony, with headquarters at dresden; and no. , bavaria, with headquarters at munich. after the annexation of austria, sector no. was added, commanded by gestapo chief scheffler whose headquarters are in berlin with a branch in vienna. sector no. also directs _standarte ii_ which stands ready to provide incidents to justify german invasion "because the situation has got out of control of the local authorities." another way in which immigration authorities, especially in countries surrounding germany, can detect gestapo agents is by the position of stamps on the german passport. stamps are placed, in accordance with german law, directly under the spot provided for them on the passport on the front page, upper right hand corner. whenever the stamps are on the cover facing the passport title page, it is a sign to gestapo representatives and consulates that the bearer is an agent who crossed the border hurriedly without time to get the regular numbers and letters from gestapo headquarters. the agent is given this means of temporary identification by the border gestapo chief. also, whenever immigration authorities find a german passport issued to the bearer for less than five years and then extended to the regulation five-year period, they may be certain that the bearer is a new gestapo agent who is being tested by controlled movements in a foreign country. for his first gestapo mission in holland, for instance, voigt was given a passport august , , good for only fourteen days. his chief was not sure whether or not voigt had agreed to become an agent just to get a passport and money to escape the country; so his passport period was limited. when the fourteen-day period expired, voigt would have to report to the nazi consulate for a renewal. in this particular instance, the passport was marked "non-renewable except by special permission of the chief of dresden police." when voigt performed his holland mission successfully, he was given the usual five-year passport. any german whose passport shows a given limited time, which has been subsequently extended, gives proof that he has been tested and found satisfactory by the gestapo. footnotes: [ ] frau suchy was one of the most active members of konrad henlein's _deutscher volksbund_, a propaganda and espionage organization masquerading as a "cultural" body in the sudeten area. she is today a leading official in the new german sudetenland. [ ] the rev. smith returned to england when he learned that the czechoslovakian secret police were watching him. at the present writing he had not returned to his church in prague. ii _england's cliveden set_ the work of foreign agents does not necessarily involve the securing of military and naval secrets. information of all kinds is important to an aggressor planning an invasion or estimating a potential enemy's strength and morale; and often a diplomatic secret is worth far more than the choicest blueprint of a carefully guarded military device. there are persons whom money, social position, political promises or glory cannot interest in following a policy of benefit to a foreign power. in such instances, however, protection of class interests sometimes drives them to acts which can scarcely be distinguished from those of paid foreign agents. this is especially true of those whose financial interests are on an international scale and who consequently think internationally. such class interests were involved in the betrayal of austria to the nazis only a few months before aggressor nations were invited to cut themselves a slice of czechoslovakia; and it will probably never be known just how much the nazis' fifth column, working in dinner jackets and evening gowns, influenced the powerful personages involved to chart a course which sacrificed a nation and a people and which foretold the munich "peace" pact. the story begins when neville chamberlain, prime minister of england, accepted an invitation to spend the week-end of march - , , at cliveden, lord and lady astor's country estate at taplow, buckinghamshire, in the beautiful thames valley. when the prime minister and his wife arrived at the huge georgian house rising out of a fairyland of gardens and forests with the placid river for a background, the other guests who had already arrived and their hosts were under the horseshoe stone staircase to receive them. the small but carefully selected group of guests had been invited "to play charades" over the week-end--a game in which the participants form opposing sides and act a certain part while the opponents try to guess what they are portraying. every man invited held a strategic position in the british government, and it was during this "charades party" week-end that they secretly charted a course of british policy which will affect not only the fate of the british empire but the course of world events and the lives of countless millions of people for years to come. this course, which indirectly menaces the peace and security of the united states, deliberately launched england on a series of maneuvers which made hitler stronger and will inevitably lead great britain on the road to fascism. the british parliament and the british people do not know of these decisions, some of which the chamberlain government has already carried out. and without a knowledge of what happened during the talks in those historic two days and what preceded them, the world can only puzzle over an almost incomprehensible british foreign policy. present at this week-end gathering, besides the astors and the prime minister and his wife, were the following: sir thomas inskip, minister for defense. sir alexander cadogan, who replaced sir robert vansittart as adviser to the british cabinet and who acts in a supervisory capacity over the extraordinarily powerful british intelligence service. geoffrey dawson, editor of the london _times_. lord lothian, governor of the national bank of scotland, a determined advocate of refusing arms to the spanish democratic government while hitler and mussolini supplied franco with them. tom jones, adviser to former premier baldwin. the right honorable e.a. fitzroy, speaker of the house of commons. the baroness mary ravensdale, sister-in-law of sir oswald mosley, leader of the british fascist movement. to understand the amazing game played by the cliveden house guests, in which nations and peoples have already been shuffled about as pawns, one must remember that powerful german industrialists and financiers like the krupps and the thyssens supported hitler primarily in order to crush the german trade-union and political movements which were in the late 's threatening their wealth and power. the astors are part of the same family in the united states. lady nancy astor, born in virginia, married into one of the richest families in england. her interests and the interests of viscount astor, her husband, stretch into banking, railroads, life insurance and journalism. half a dozen members of the family are in parliament: lady astor, her husband, their son, in the house of commons; and two relatives in the house of lords. the astor family controls two of the most powerful and influential newspapers in the world, the london _times_ and the london _observer_. in the past these papers, whose influence cannot be exaggerated, have been strong enough to make and break prime ministers. cliveden house, ruled by the intensely energetic and ambitious american-born woman, had already left its mark upon current history following other week-end parties. lady astor and her coterie had been playing a more or less minor role in the affairs of the largest empire in the world, but decisions recently reached at her week-end parties have already changed the map of europe, after almost incredible intrigues, betrayals and double-crossings, carried through with the ruthlessness of a conquering caesar and the boundless ambitions of a napoleon. the week-ends at cliveden house which culminated in the historic one of march - , began in the fall of . lady astor had been having teas with lady ravensdale and had entertained von ribbentrop, nazi ambassador to great britain, at her town house. gradually the astor-controlled london _times_ assumed a pro-nazi bias on its very influential editorial page. when the _times_ wants to launch a campaign, its custom is to run a series of letters in its famous correspondence columns and then an editorial advocating the policy decided upon. during october, , the _times_ sprouted letters regarding hitler's claims for the return of the colonies taken from germany after the war. rather than have germany attack her, england preferred to see hitler turn his eyes to the fertile ukrainian wheat fields of the soviet union. it meant war, but that war seemed inevitable. if russia won, england and her economic royalists would be faced with "the menace of communism." but if germany won, she would expand eastward and, exhausted by the war, would be in no condition to make demands upon england. the part great britain's economic royalists had to play, then, was to strengthen germany in her preparations for the coming war with russia and at the same time prepare herself to fight if her calculations went wrong. cabinet ministers lord hailsham (sugar and insurance interests), lord swinton (railroads, power, with subsidiaries in germany, italy, etc.), sir samuel hoare (real estate, insurance, etc.), were felt out and thought it was a good idea. chamberlain himself had a hefty interest (around twelve thousand shares) in imperial chemical industries, affiliated with _i.g. farbenindustrie_, the german dye trust which is very actively supplying hitler with war materials. the difficulty was anthony eden, british foreign minister, who was opposed to fascist aggressions because he feared they would eventually threaten the british empire. eden would certainly not approve of strengthening fascist countries and encouraging them to still greater aggressions. at one of the carefully selected little parties the astors invited eden. in the small drawing room banked with flowers the idea was broached about sending an emissary to talk the matter over with hitler--some genial, inoffensive person like lord halifax (huge land interests) for instance. eden understood why the _times_ had suddenly raised the issue of the lost german colonies to an extent greater even than hitler himself, and eden emphatically expressed his disapproval. such a step, he insisted, would encourage both germany and italy to further aggressions which would ultimately wreck the british empire. nevertheless, the cabinet ministers who had been consulted brought pressure upon chamberlain and while the foreign secretary was in brussels on a state matter, the prime minister announced that halifax would visit the führer. eden was furious and after a stormy session tendered his resignation. at that period, however, eden's resignation might have thrown england into a turmoil--so chamberlain mollified him. public sympathy was with eden and before he was eased out, the country had to be prepared for it. in the quiet and subdued atmosphere of the diplomats' drawing rooms in london they tell, with many a chuckle, how lord halifax, his bowler firmly on his head, was sent to berlin and berchtesgaden in mid-november, , with instructions not to get into any arguments. lord halifax, in the mellow judgment of his close friends, is one of the most amiable and charming of the british peers, earnest, well meaning and--not particularly bright. in berlin halifax met goering, attired for the occasion in a new and bewilderingly gaudy uniform. in the course of their conversation goering, resting his hands on his enormous paunch, said: "the world cannot stand still. world conditions cannot be frozen just as they are forever. the world is subject to change." "of course not," lord halifax agreed amiably. "it's absurd to think that anything can be frozen and no changes made." "germany cannot stand still," goering continued. "germany must expand. she must have austria, czechoslovakia and other countries--she must have oil--" now this was a point for argument but the messenger extraordinary had been instructed not to get into any arguments; so he nodded and in his best pacifying tone murmured, "naturally. no one expects germany to stand still if she must expand." after austria was invaded and halifax was asked by his close friends what he had cooked up over there, he told the above story, expressing the fear that his conversation was probably misunderstood by goering, the latter taking his amiability to mean that great britain approved germany's plans to swallow austria. the french intelligence service, however, has a different version, most of it collected during february, , which, in the light of subsequent events, seems far more accurate. lord halifax, these secret-service reports state, pledged england to a hands-off policy on hitler's ambitions in central europe if germany would not raise the question of the return of the colonies for six years. within that period england estimated that hitler would have expanded, strengthened his war machine and fought the soviet union to a victorious conclusion. late in january , lord and lady astor invited some guests for a week-end at cliveden. the prime minister of england came and so did lord halifax, lord lothian, tom jones and j.l. garvin, editor of the astor-controlled london _observer_. when chamberlain returned to london, he asked eden to open negotiations with italy to secure a promise to stop killing british sailors and sinking british merchant vessels in the mediterranean. during this time the british foreign office was issuing statements that mussolini was "cooperating" in the hunt for the "unidentified" pirates. british opinion, roused by the sinking of english ships, might hamper deals with the fascist leaders if such attacks were not ended. in return for the cessation of the piratical attacks, chamberlain was ready to offer recognition of abyssinia and even loans to italy to develop her captured territory. it was paying tribute to a pirate chieftain, but chamberlain was ready to do it to quiet opposition at home to the sinking of british vessels and to give him time in which to develop his policy. eden, who had fought for sanctions against the aggressor when abyssinia was invaded, obeyed orders but insisted that italy must first get her soldiers out of spain. he did not want mussolini to get a stranglehold upon gibraltar, one of the strategic life lines of the british empire. mussolini refused and told the british ambassador in rome that he and great britain would never to able to get together because eden insisted on the withdrawal of italian troops from spain, and that it might help if a different foreign secretary were appointed. hitler, working closely with mussolini in the rome-berlin axis, also began to press for a different foreign secretary but went mussolini one better. von ribbentrop informed chamberlain that der führer was displeased with the english press attacks upon him, nazis and nazi aggressions. der führer wanted that stopped. the foreign office of the once proud and still biggest empire in the world promptly sent notes to the newspapers in fleet street requesting that stories about nazis and hitler be toned down "to aid the government," and most of the once proud and independent british newspapers established a "voluntary censorship" at what amounted to an order from hitler relayed through england's foreign office. the explanation the newspapers gave to their staffs was that the world situation was too critical to refuse the government's request and, besides that refusal would probably mean losing routine foreign office and other government department news sources. the more than average british citizen doesn't know even today how his government and "independent" press took orders from hitler. in the latter part of january, , the french intelligence service, still not knowing of the secret deal halifax had made, learned that hitler intended to invade austria late in february and that simultaneously both italy and germany, instead of withdrawing troops as they had said they would, planned to intensify their offensive in spain. when the french intelligence learned of it, m. delbos, then french foreign minister, and eden were in geneva attending a meeting of the council of the league. delbos excitedly informed eden who, never dreaming that great britain had not only agreed to sacrifice austria and betray france but was also double-crossing her own foreign minister, telephoned chamberlain from geneva. the prime minister listened attentively, thanked him dryly, hung up, and promptly telephoned sir eric phipps, british ambassador to france. sir eric was instructed to get hold of m. chautemps, the french premier at the time, and ask that chautemps instruct delbos to stop frightening the british foreign secretary. but all during february the french intelligence kept getting more information about the planned invasion of austria and the proposed intensified offensive in spain, and relayed it to england with insistent suggestions for joint precautions. eden in turn relayed it to chamberlain who always thanked him. the date set for the invasion was approaching but eden was still in office and hitler began to fear that perhaps "perfidious albion" with all her overtures of friendship might really be double-crossing germany. if england could send a special emissary to offer to sell out austria and double-cross her ally france, she might be quite capable of tricking germany. simultaneously the gestapo stumbled upon information that the british intelligence had reached into the top ranks of the german army and was working with high officers. hitler, not knowing how far the british intelligence had penetrated, shook up his cabinet, made ribbentrop secretary for foreign affairs, and prepared for war in the event that england was leading him into a trap. there are records in the british foreign office which show that hitler, before invading austria, tested england to be sure he wasn't being led into a trap. von ribbentrop informed eden and chamberlain that hitler intended to summon schuschnigg, the austrian chancellor, and demand that austria rearrange her cabinet, take in dr. seyss-inquart and release imprisoned nazis. hitler knew that schuschnigg would immediately rush to england and france for aid. if they turned austria down it was safe to proceed with the invasion. the british foreign office records show that schuschnigg did rush to england and france for support, that france was ready to give it, but that england refused, thereby forcing france to keep out of it. while these frantic maneuvers were going on, the astor-controlled _times_ and _observer_, the nazi and the italian press simultaneously started a campaign against eden. the date set for the sacrifice of austria was approaching and eden had to go or it might fail. the public, however, was with eden; so another kind of attack was launched. stories began to appear about the foreign secretary's health. there were sighs, long faces, sad regrets, but eden stuck to his post in the hope that he could do something. on february , hitler, tired of waiting, bluntly demanded that he be removed, and with the newspaper campaign in full swing, chamberlain "in response to public opinion" removed him the very next day. the amiable lord halifax was appointed foreign secretary. pro-fascists like a.l. lennon-boyd, stanch supporter of franco and admirer of hitler and mussolini, were given ministerial posts. the austrian invasion was delayed for three weeks because of the difficulty in getting eden out. when the news flashed to a startled world that nazi troops were thundering into a country whose independence hitler had promised to respect, m. corbin, the still unsuspecting french ambassador, rushed to the foreign office to arrange for swift joint action. this was at four o'clock in the afternoon of march , . instead of receiving him immediately, lord halifax kept him waiting until nine o'clock in the evening. by that time austria was nazi territory. there was nothing to do but protest; so lord halifax, with a straight face, joined france in a "strong protest." it was not until a week after austria had been absorbed that the french intelligence service learned the details of the halifax deal and finally understood why england had side-stepped the pleas for joint action and why the french ambassador had been kept cooling his heels until the occupation of austria was completed. from austria hitler got more men for his army, large deposits of magnesite, timber forests and enormous water-power resources for electricity. from czechoslovakia, if he could get it, hitler would have the skoda armament works, one of the biggest in the world, factories in the sudeten area, be next door to hungarian wheat and rumanian oil, dominate the balkans, destroy potential russian air and troop bases in central europe, and place nazi troops within a few miles of the soviet border and the ukrainian wheat fields he has eyed so long. five days after austria was invaded, on march , at : in the afternoon, lord halifax personally summoned the czechoslovakian minister. at four o'clock the minister came out of the conference with a dazed and bewildered air. lord halifax had made some "suggestions." revealing complete ignorance of what had happened and was happening in czechoslovakian politics, halifax was nevertheless laying down the law. it was obvious that the british foreign secretary was getting orders from someone else, for halifax suggested that the central european republic try to conciliate germany (which it had been doing for months) and that a german be taken into the cabinet (there were already three in it). on march there was another meeting at which the minister learned that halifax wanted the czech government to take a nazi into the cabinet--as austria took dr. seyss-inquart at hitler's orders. this pressure from england for czechoslovakian nazis to be given more power in the government was virtually telling the beleaguered little democracy to fashion a strong rope and hang itself. subsequent events showed that chamberlain personally supplied the rope. then came the historic week-end of march - , . the walls of the small drawing room at cliveden house are lined with shelves filled with books. the laughing and chatting guests had gathered there after a delightful dinner. for the prime minister of england to go through all sorts of contortions in a game of charades might prove a trifle undignified; so the hostess suggested that they play "musical chairs." everyone thought it was a splendid idea and men servants in their impressive blue liveries arranged the chairs in the required order, carefully spacing the distances between them. one of the laughing and bejeweled women took her place at the piano. in "musical chairs" there is one person more than the number of chairs. when the music starts the players march around the chairs. the moment the music stops everyone dives for the nearest chair leaving the extra person standing and subject to the hilarious jibes of the other players and those rooting from the bleachers. it's one of the ways statesmen relax. the music started and the dour prime minister of the greatest empire in the world, the minister in charge of the empire's defense measures, the editor of england's most powerful newspaper, the right honorable speaker of the house of commons, the sister-in-law of england's leading fascist and several others started marching while the piano tinkled its challenging tune. the prime minister, perhaps because he is essentially conservative, marched cautiously and stepped quickly between the spaces while lady astor eyed him shrewdly and the others suppressed giggles. the prime minister tried to maintain at least the dignity of his banking background but managed "to look only a little porky" as one expressed it afterward. suddenly the music stopped. everyone lunged for the nearest chair. the prime minister managed to get one and plopped into it heavily. after half an hour or so some of the strategic rulers of great britain got a little winded and quit. a conversation started on foreign affairs and most of the wives retired to another room. when the discussion was ended the little cliveden house party had come to six major decisions which will change the face of the world if successfully carried through. those decisions (maneuvers to put some of them into effect have already begun) are: . to inform france that england will go to her aid if she is attacked, unless the attack results from a treaty obligation with another power. . to introduce peace time conscription in england. . to appoint three ministers to coordinate industrial defense (conscription in peace time); supervise military conscription; and, coordinate the "political education of the people" (propaganda). . to reach an agreement with italy to preserve the legitimate interest of both countries in the mediterranean. . to discuss mutual problems with germany. . to express the hope to germany that her methods of self-assertion be such as will not hinder mutual discussions by arousing british public opinion against her. the two most important decisions in this plan are the one for the conscription of labor in peace time and the effort to force france to break the franco-soviet pact by choosing between england and russia. consider conscription first and the motives behind it: when any country whose workers are strongly organized starts veering towards fascism, it must either win over the trade-unions in one way or another or destroy them, for rebellious labor can prevent fascism by means of the general strike. british labor is known to hate fascism since it has learned that fascism destroys, among other things, the value of the trade-unions and all that they have gained after many years of struggle. any veering by england toward fascism and fascist alliances spells trouble with the trade-unions; hence, the decision "to coordinate the political education of the people." this move is particularly necessary since some trade-union leaders, especially in the important armament industry, have already stated publicly that unless the workers were given assurances that the arms labor was manufacturing would be used in defense of democracy and not to destroy it, they would not cooperate. hence "the education of the people" and the conscription of labor in peace time which would ultimately lead to government control over the unions. with some variations it is the same procedure followed by hitler in getting control of the once extremely powerful german trade-unions. a few days after this historic week-end, the _times_ came out for "national organization" and the wisdom of "national registration." national registration, as the history of fascist countries has shown, is the first step in the conscription of labor. with this opening gun having been fired, it is a safe prophecy that if the chamberlain government remains in office british labor will witness one of the most determined attacks ever made upon it in its history. all indications point to the ground being laid and it may result in splitting the trade-union movement, for some of the leaders are willing to go with the government while others have already indicated that they will refuse unless they know that it's for democracy and not for fascism. the second important decision is to exert pressure upon france to break her pact with the soviet union--something hitler has been unsuccessfully trying to accomplish for a long time. at the moment it appears that great britain will succeed just as she has already succeeded in breaking the czechoslovakian-soviet pact--another rupture hitler was determined upon. england has a reputation for shrewd diplomacy. in the past she has used nations and peoples, played one against the other, betrayed, sacrificed, double-crossed in the march of her empire. since the cliveden week-end, however, with its resultant intrigues, england has, to all appearances, finally double-crossed herself. those who guide her destiny and the destinies of her millions of subjects have apparently come to the conclusion that democracy, as england has known it, cannot survive and that it is a choice between fascism and communism. under communism, the ruling class to which the cliveden week-end guests belong, stand to lose their wealth and power. it is the fatuous hope of the economic royalists that under fascism they will still sit on top of the roost, and so the cliveden week-enders move toward fascism. hitler's fifth column finds strange allies. iii _france's secret fascist army_ neither hitler nor mussolini could have foreseen the development of a cliveden set or england's willingness to weaken her own position as the dominant european power by sacrificing austria and a good portion of czechoslovakia. the totalitarian powers proceeded on the assumption that when the struggle for control of central europe, the balkans and the mediterranean came they would have to fight. the rome-berlin axis reasoned logically that if, when the expected war broke out, france could be disrupted by a widespread internal rebellion, not only would she be weakened on the battlefield but fascism might even be victorious in the republic. in preparation for this, the axis sent into france secret agents plentifully supplied with money and arms, and almost succeeded in one of the most amazing plots in history. the opening scene of events which led directly to the discovery of how far the foreign secret agents had progressed took place in the restaurant drouant on the place gaillon which is frequented by leaders of paris' financial, industrial and cultural life. precisely at noon, on september , , jacqueline blondet, an eighteen-year-old stenographer with marcelled hair, sparkling eyes, and heavily rouged lips, passed through the rotating doors of the famous restaurant and turned right as she had been instructed. she had never been in so luxurious a place before--dining rooms done in gray or brown marble with furniture to match. two steps lead from the gray to the brown room and mlle. blondet, not noticing them in her excitement, slipped and would have fallen had not the old wine steward who looks like charles dickens, caught and steadied her. the two men with whom she was lunching were at a table at the far corner of the deserted room. the one who had invited her, françois metenier, a well-known french engineer and industrialist, powerfully built, with sharp eyes, dark hair, and a suave self-assured manner, rose at her approach, smiling at her embarrassment. the other man, considerably younger, was m. locuty, a stocky, bushy haired man with square jaws and heavy tortoise-shell eyeglasses. he was an engineer at the huge michelin tire works at clermont-ferrand where metenier was an important official. the industrialist introduced the girl merely as "my friend" without mentioning her name. with the exception of two couples having a late breakfast in the gray marble room, which they could see from their table, the three were alone. "shall we have a bottle of bordeaux?" asked metenier. "i ordered lunch by 'phone but i thought i would await your presence on the wine." "oh, anything you order," said locuty with an effort at casualness. "yes, you order the wine," said the stenographer. "_garçon_, a bottle of st. julien, château léoville-poyferre ." the ghost of charles dickens, who had been hovering nearby, bowed and smiled with appreciation of the guest's knowledge of a rare fine wine and personally rushed off to the cellars for the bordeaux. when the early lunch was over and the brandy had been set before them, metenier studied his glass thoughtfully and glanced at the two portly men who had entered the brown dining room and sat some tables away. from the snatches of conversation the three gathered that one was a literary critic and the other a publisher. they were discussing a thrilling detective story just published which the critic insisted was too fantastic. metenier said to locuty: "you will have to make two bombs. i will take you to a very important man in our organization, a power in france. he will personally give you the material and show you how to make them. then i will take you to the places where you will leave them. i do not want them to see me." in low tones, they discussed the bombing of two places. metenier, a pillar of the church, highly respected in his community and well-known throughout france, cautioned them as they left. why the vivacious blond stenographer was permitted to sit in on this conversation, locuty did not know, unless it was to tempt him, for, as she bade him good-by, she squeezed his hand significantly and said she wanted to see him again. metenier drove locuty to an office building where he introduced him to a man he called "leon"--actually alfred macon, concierge of a building which metenier and others used as headquarters for their activities. within a few moments the door of an adjacent room opened and jean adolphe moreau de la meuse, aristocrat and leading french industrialist, came in. he had a monocle in his right eye which he kept adjusting nervously. his face was deeply marked and lined with heavy bluish pouches under the eyes. with a swift glance he sized up locuty as metenier rose. "this is the gentleman whom i mentioned," he said. "he understands his mission?" de la meuse asked. "yes," said locuty. "you will teach me how to make them?" de la meuse nodded. "it will be a time bomb which must be set for ten o'clock tomorrow night. there will be nobody in the building at that time, so no one will be hurt." an hour later locuty, who had made both bombs and set the timing devices, wrapped them into two neat packages. metenier took him to the general confederation of french employers' building in the rue de presbourg. in accordance with instructions he left one of the packages with the concierge, after which metenier took him to the ironmasters' association headquarters on the rue boissiere, where locuty left the second package. on the evening of september , the general confederation of french employers was scheduled to hold a meeting in their building. this meeting was postponed; and, as de la meuse had assured the michelin engineer, the concierges and their wives, contrary to custom, were not in their buildings that evening. at ten o'clock, both bombs exploded. the plans had gone off as arranged except for an accident, the investigation of which made public the whole amazing conspiracy. two french gendarmes standing near one of the buildings were killed. immediately after the bombs exploded, the employers' confederation and the ironmasters' association issued statements charging the communists and the popular front with being responsible for the outrages and accusing them of planning a reign of terror to seize control of france. the accusations left a profound effect upon the french people despite the communists' assertions that they never countenance terrorism. the _sûreté nationale_, the french scotland yard, opened an intensive investigation which was spurred on by the deaths of the unfortunate gendarmes. it was not long before the french people heard of the almost incredibly fantastic plot to destroy the popular front and establish fascism in france--a plot directed by leading french industrialists and high army officers cooperating with secret agents of the german and italian governments. the ramifications of the plot are so packed with dynamite in the national and international arena that the french government, under pressure from england as well as from some of its own industrialists, government officials and army officers, has clamped the lid down on further disclosures lest continued publicity seriously affect the delicate balance of international relations. it was obvious from what the police uncovered that it had taken several years to organize the gigantic conspiracy. within the teeming city of paris itself, steel and concrete fortresses had been secretly built. other cities throughout france were similarly ringed in strategic places. every one of these secret fortresses was stocked with arms and munitions, and throughout the country, once the confessions began, the police found thousands upon thousands of rifles and pistols, millions of cartridges, hundreds of machine guns and sub-machine guns. the fortresses themselves were fitted with secret radio and telephone stations for communication among themselves. code books and evidence of arms-running from germany and italy were found. a vast espionage network and a series of murders were traced to this secret organization whose official name is the "secret committee for revolutionary action." at their meetings they wore hoods to conceal their identity from one another, like the black legion in the united states, and the press promptly named them the "cagoulards" ("hooded ones"). just how many members the cagoulards actually have is unknown except to its supreme council and probably to the german and italian intelligence divisions. lists of names totaling eighteen thousand men were turned up by the _sûreté nationale_, and the hundreds of steel and concrete fortresses and the arms found in them point to a membership of at least , . the way the fortresses were built and their strategic locations (blowing down the walls of the buildings where the fortresses were hidden would have given them command of streets, squares and government buildings) indicate supervision by high military officials. when contractors buy enormous quantities of cement for dugouts, when butchers' and bakers' lorries rattle over ancient cobblestones with enormous loads of arms smuggled across german and italian borders, when thousands of people are drilled and trained in pistol, rifle and machine-gun practice, it is impossible that the competent french intelligence service and the _sûreté nationale_ should not get wind of it. as far back as september, , the _sûreté nationale_ knew that some leading french industrialists with the cooperation of the german and italian governments were building a military fascist organization within france. nevertheless it quietly permitted fortresses to be built and stocked with munitions. the general staff of the french army, from reports of intelligence men in germany and italy, knew that those countries were smuggling arms into france, but they permitted it to go on. the general staff knew that some eight hundred concrete fortresses were being built under the supervision of m. anceaux, a building contractor of dieppe, and that skilled members of the secret committee for revolutionary action had been recruited for the building and sworn to secrecy under penalty of death. they knew that these fortresses were equipped with sending and receiving radios, knew that some were within the shadow of military centers, knew that the cagoulards had a far-flung espionage system. but the french general staff made no effort to stop it. the popular front government was in power at the time, and heads of the supreme war council apparently preferred a fascist france to a democratic one. in fact, officers and reserve officers of the french army cooperated with secret agents of their traditional enemy, germany, to build up this formidable secret army. the investigating authorities, stunned by their discoveries and the high officials and individuals to whom their investigations led, either did not dare go further with it, or, if they did, suppressed the information. some of it, however, came out. at the top of the cagoulards is a supreme war council or general staff whose members have not been disclosed. working with them are several other organizations, all with innocent names, as for example the "society of studies for french regeneration." the cagoulards' activities are divided into broad general lines, each directed by an individual in complete command and embracing: buying war materials within france and smuggling war materials into the country from germany, italy and insurgent spain, along with the simultaneous weaving of an espionage network under nazi and fascist direction and leadership. building concrete fortresses at strategic centers and storing smuggled arms in them. military training of secretly organized troops. getting the money to carry on these extensive activities. extreme care was, and still is, taken to conceal the identities of the ordinary members and especially the leaders. for instance, one of the leaders known to his subordinates as "fontaine" is in reality georges cachier, director of a large company in paris and chief of the cagoulards' "third bureau," which is in charge of military movements. cachier is an officer of the french legion of honor and a reserve lieutenant-colonel in the french army. the cagoulards are still very active. members are being recruited with leaders pointing out to the fearful ones that there is nothing to worry about--almost all of those arrested in the early days of the investigation are free, out on bail or kept in a "gentleman's confinement" where they can do virtually as they please. "our power is great," new members are told. as is customary in secret terrorist societies, the members are sworn to silence with death as the penalty for indiscretion. the penalty when it is employed is usually administered in american gangster fashion. each member is allotted to a "cell," the basic unit of the military organization, and assigned to a secretly fortified post for training. one of these posts discovered by the _sûreté nationale_ was in an old boarding house run by two ancient spinsters with equally ancient guests who spent their time in rockers, knitting and reading and not dreaming that underneath the porch on which they sat so tranquilly was a fortress with enough explosives to blow the whole street to smithereens. into this particular fortification, the cell members would steal one by one after the old maids had retired, entering by a concealed door three feet thick and electrically operated. there are two different kinds of cells in the cagoulards, "heavy" and "light" ones. they differ in the number of men and the quantity of armaments assigned to them. the "light" cell has eight men equipped with army rifles, automatics, hand grenades, and one sub-machine gun; the "heavy" one has twelve men similarly armed but with a machine gun instead of a sub-machine gun. three cells form a unit, three units a battalion, three battalions a regiment, two regiments a brigade and two brigades a division of two thousand men. the battalions (one hundred and fifty men) are subdivided into squads of fifty to sixty men with ten to twelve cars at their disposal for quick movement throughout the city. these automobile squads are given intensive training. members are not required to pay dues, for enough money comes in from industrialists and the german and italian governments to eliminate the need of collecting money from members for operating expenses. every effort is made to function without written communications. no membership cards are issued. notices of meetings, drill and rifle practice are issued verbally, and so far as the mass membership is concerned, nothing in writing is placed in their hands. a twenty-page handbook with instructions on street fighting was issued to group commanders and, lest a copy fall into wrong hands and betray the organization, it was boldly entitled: _secret rules of the communist party_. the instructions are specific and are based upon the insurrectionary tactics issued to the nazi storm troopers. they fall into six sections: general remarks; group fighting; section fighting; choice of terrain; commissariat; and policing groups. one or two excerpts from these instructions for street fighting follow: "the particular force for street fighting is infantry, provided with automatic weapons and hand grenades. members of the detachments should be instructed that automatic weapons must always be used in preference. essential arms are: sub-machine guns, rifles including hunting rifles, hand grenades, revolvers, petards." (petards are small bombs used for blowing in doors.) with regard to "mopping up" in houses, the instructions state: "if the door is barricaded, it must be opened with tools or explosives. if it is a heavy door, break it in by driving a lorry at it. clean up basements and cellars by throwing bombs down through the air holes or other openings after your men have got into the house. only after these have exploded should the cellar doors be forced. then, when ascending the stairs, keep close to the walls while one of your men keeps firing straight up the shaft. mop up as you go down floor by floor. if necessary, pierce holes in the ceilings and mop up by throwing down hand grenades." the chief of the cagoulards' espionage system is dr. jean marie martin, a bushy-haired stocky man with dark, somber eyes. dr. martin usually travels with several false passports and with the utmost secrecy. at the moment he is in genoa where he went to meet commendatore boccalaro, mussolini's personal representative in charge of smuggling arms into foreign countries. the preparations by the rome-berlin axis point to plans for a fight to a finish between fascist and non-fascist countries. a feeble or disrupted democracy will obviously strengthen the fascist powers in any coming struggle with anti-fascist powers. germany and italy, faced on their own borders with a democratic france allied with the soviet union in a military defense pact, would face a powerful enemy in the event of war. but if france were torn by a bloody civil war, she would be virtually unable even to defend her borders. consequently, it is essential for germany and italy to weaken and if possible destroy france's democracy. france and germany have been traditional enemies in their struggle for land containing raw materials needed by their industries to compete in the world markets. but the growth of the french labor movement and the power of the popular front which threatened the control and the profits of french industrialists and financiers, made them find more in common with fascist and nazi industrialists than with french workers who menaced their economic and political control. the result was that leading french industrialists were willing to cooperate with nazi and fascist agents to destroy the popular front and establish fascism in france. about half of the , , francs, which it is estimated the fortresses and arms cost, was contributed by french industrialists. the other half came from the german and italian governments. germany and italy sent swarms of secret agents into france to supervise the building of the underground military machine and to carry on intensive espionage with the assistance of the french army and government officials who were members of the hooded ones. the espionage service was organized by baron de potters, an old international spy who travels with two or more passports under the names of farmer and meihert. de potters gets his funds from the nazis' strongly guarded "bureau iii b," established in berne, switzerland at gewerbestrasse. "bureau iii b" is the official name of this branch of the gestapo. at the head of it is boris toedli whose activities include not only espionage but underground diplomatic intrigue and propaganda. he works directly under drs. rosenberg and goebbels. toedli supplies not only the baron but other espionage directors with money and there is plenty of it at his disposal for quick emergency uses. the money is deposited in the _société des banques suisses_, account no. . the head of the italian espionage system directing the work in france and cooperating closely with the nazis is commendatore boccalaro, head of the italian government's arsenal in genoa. one of his specialties is the smuggling of arms into foreign countries. boccalaro's history shows that the not so fine italian hand is interfering in the internal affairs of foreign governments. as far back as , he secretly supplied carloads of arms from the genoa arsenal to hungary, and in he supplied yugoslavian terrorists with war materials in efforts to get those countries under mussolini's sphere of influence. boccalaro, too, seems to have had reasons to suppress information in at least one case where the death penalty was inflicted upon a member of the cagoulards. among the hooded ones who have been found with bullets or knives in them was an arms runner named adolphe-augustin juif, who tried to charge the secret organization a little more than he should for smuggling guns and munitions into france. when the organization threatened him, he advised it not to resort to threats because he knew a little too much. on february , , his bullet-riddled body was found in san remo, italy. when juif's wife, not hearing from him, sought information about his whereabouts, she wrote to boccalaro, since she knew he was working with the genoa director. the italian papers had announced the finding of his body; nevertheless, on march , boccalaro wrote to the murdered man's widow: "your husband, my dear friend, is carrying on a special and delicate mission (perhaps in spain or germany) and has special reasons of a delicate nature not to inform even his own family where he is at the present moment." among the men whom juif met before he was murdered was eugène deloncle, director of the maritime and river transport mortgage company and one of the most important industrialists in france. deloncle, a high official in the cagoulards, used the name of "grosset" in his conspiratorial activities. the other man whom the murdered juif met is general edouard arthur du-seigneur, former air force chief and military adviser to the french air ministry. the general is one of the military heads of the cagoulards and frequently met with baron de potters. the _sûreté nationale_, the french intelligence service, and the examining magistrate have documentary evidence that germany and italy were and are deliberately conspiring to throw france, as they did spain, into a civil war. publication of these documents would have far-reaching effects, internally and externally. great britain, however, planning to establish a four-cornered pact between england, france, germany and italy, brought pressure to bear upon france to suppress further disclosures about the cagoulards. to england's pressure was added that of leading french industrialists, financiers, government and army officials. gradually, news about the cagoulards is dying out. the real heads of the hooded ones either have not been named or, if arrested in the early days of the investigation, have been released on bail. and recruiting for the underground army is still going on. iv _dynamite under mexico_ most people in the united states feel secure from european or asiatic aggression since wide oceans apparently separate us from the conquering ambitions of a führer or a son of the sun. however, despite our desire to be left in peace, the rome-berlin axis, which japan joined, has cast longing eyes upon the western hemisphere. the monroe doctrine is of value only so long as aggressor nations feel we are too strong for them to violate it; recent history has shown what pieces of paper are worth. in the process of trying to get a foothold in the americas, the nazis have sent agents into all of the countries, but because most of the central and south american republics are still resentful of past acts by the "colossus of the north," they offer the most fertile fields. the two spots on the western hemisphere most vital to the united states are the panama canal zone and mexico--the zone because it is our trade and naval life line between the oceans and mexico because potential enemies could find in it perfect military and naval bases. let us see what the totalitarian powers are doing in mexico: on june , , the s.s. "panuco" of the new york and cuba mail steamship co. steamed into tampico, mexico, from new york with a mysterious cargo consigned to one armeria estrada. as soon as she docked, the cargo was quickly transferred to the atchison, topeka and santa fe railroad freight car no. , which was awaiting it. a gentleman known around the freight yards as a.m. cabezut, arranged for the car to leave immediately for the state of san luis potosí in the heart of mexico. there was no record on the bill of lading to show that the shipper was the winchester repeating arms company of new haven, conn., and that the cargo, ordered on january and february , , by an italian named benito estrada, was a large quantity of rifles, pistols and one hundred and forty cases of cartridges for various caliber guns. when the car arrived in san luis potosí, it was met by an elderly, mustached german named baron ernst von merck, who took the shipment to general saturnino cedillo, former governor of the state[ ] and a well-known advocate of fascism. one week later the elderly german met a carload shipment of "farm implements." when it was unloaded in san luis potosí, the farm implements turned out to be dynamite. von merck, who has been cedillo's right-hand man, was during the world war a german spy stationed in brussels. a member of cedillo's staff[ ] he traveled constantly between san luis potosí, where the arms were cached, and the nazi legation in mexico city. on december , , baron von merck flew to guatemala--the same day that a cargo of arms from germany was to be landed off the wild jungle coast of campeche in southern mexico. guatemala, just south of mexico, is the most thoroughly organized fascist country in central or south america. its chief industries, coffee and bananas, are virtually controlled by germans, whose enormous plantations overlap into the state of chiapas, mexico. but president jorge ubico, who is not much of an aryan, prefers mussolini's brand of fascism because the nazi theory of nordic supremacy does not strike a sympathetic chord in the president's heart. as a result, the italian minister to guatemala is ubico's adviser on almost all matters of state. guiseppe sotanis, a mysterious italian officer who sits in the gran hotel in san josé, costa rica, collecting stamps and studying his immaculate fingernails, arranges for shipments of italian arms into guatemala. a few months ago sotanis, the italian minister to guatemala, and ubico met in guatemala city. shortly thereafter the italian arms manufacturing company, bredda, sent ubico two hundred eighty portable machine guns, sixty anti-aircraft machine guns and seventy small caliber cannon. but president ubico is not hopelessly addicted to one brand of fascism. nazi ships make no attempt to conceal their landing of arms and munitions at puerto barrios. from there they are transported by car, river and horse into the dense chicle forests in the mountain regions, then across the guatemalan border into chiapas and campeche. during march, , mysterious activities took place in the heart of the chicle forests in campeche. the region is a dense jungle inhabited by primitive indian tribes. there is little reason for anyone to build an airport in this territory, much of which has not even been explored. but if the mexican government will instruct its air squadron to go to campeche and fly forty miles north of the rio hondo and a little west of quintana roo border, they will find a completed airport in the heart of the chicle jungle; and if they will fly a little due west of the small villages of la tuxpena and esperanza in campeche, they will find two more secret airports. the mexican government knows that arms are being smuggled in through its own ports, across the guatemalan border, and across the wide, sparsely inhabited two-thousand-mile stretch of american border. both american and mexican border patrols have been increased, but it is almost impossible to watch the entire region between southern california and brownsville. few contraband runners are caught, apparently because neither the american nor mexican governments seem to know the routes followed or who the leading smugglers are. on february , , josé rebey and his brother pablo, who live in the altar district of sonora and know every foot of the desert, drove to tucson, arizona, where they met two unidentified americans. on february , , josé rebey and francisco cuen, old and close friends of gov. roman yocupicio, drove a buick to the sandy, deserted wastes near sonoyta, just south of the american border where one of the two unidentified americans delivered a carload of cases securely covered with sheet metal. as soon as the cases were transferred into rebey's car, he turned back on sonora's flat, dusty roads, passing caborca, la cienega, and turning on the sun-dried rutted road to ures, which lies parched and dry in the semi-tropical sun. ures is the central cache for arms smuggled into sonora by yocupicio, and the rebey brothers and cuen are among the chief contraband runners. the load they carried that day consisted of thompson guns and cartridges, and the route followed is the one they generally use. a secondary route used by one of cuen's chief aids, a police delegate from the el tiro mine, lies over the roads to ures by way of altar. if in time of war it becomes necessary for guard or patrol work to deflect any troops from the army, or ships from the navy, it is of advantage to the enemy. if a coming war found the united states lined up with the democratic as against the fascist powers and serious uprisings broke out in mexico, it would require several u.s. regiments to patrol the border and a number of u.s. ships to watch the thousands of miles of coast line to prevent arms running to american countries sympathetic to the berlin-rome-tokyo axis. the three fascist powers that have cast longing eyes upon central and south america have apparently divided their activities in the americas, with japan concentrating on the coast lines and the panama canal, germany on the large central and south american countries and italy upon the small ones. in mexico, nazi agents work directly with mexican fascist groups, and have undertaken to carry the brunt of spreading anti-democratic propaganda to turn popular sentiment against the "colossus of the north," and to develop a receptive attitude toward the totalitarian form of government. italy concentrates on espionage, with particular attention to mexican aid to loyalist spain. it was the italian espionage network in mexico which learned the course of the ill-fated "mar cantabrico" which left new york and vera cruz with a cargo of arms for the loyalists and was intercepted and sunk by an insurgent cruiser. though germany, even more than italy, is utilizing her propaganda machine in the americas' markets, the japanese are not troubling about that just yet. their commercial missions seem to be much less interested in establishing business connections than in taking photographs. the chief commercial activity all three countries are intensely interested in is getting concessions from mexico for iron, manganese and oil--materials essential for war. president lázaro cárdenas, however, has stated his dislike of fascism on several occasions. since germany, japan and italy must obtain these products wherever they can get them, it would be to their advantage if a government more friendly to fascism were in power. but, should that prove impossible, the existence of a strong, fascist movement would have, in time of war, tremendous potentialities for sabotage. hence, mexico is today being battered by pro-fascist propaganda broadcasts from germany on special short-wave beams, and nazi and fascist agents surreptitiously meet with discontented generals to weave a network throughout the country. the radio propaganda is devoted chiefly to selling the wonders of totalitarian government, and to the dissemination of subtle, indirect comments calculated to turn popular feeling against the united states. in addition to regular broadcasts, material printed in spanish and in german by the _fichte bund_ with headquarters in hamburg, germany, is smuggled into mexico in commercial shipments. a nazi bund to direct this propaganda was organized secretly because of the government's unfriendly attitude toward fascism. the bund operates as the _deutsche volksgemeinschaft_ and its propaganda center functions under the name of the "united german charities." this organization, on the top floor of the building at uruguay street, mexico city, is actually the "brown house," in direct contact with nazi propaganda headquarters in hamburg. some of the propaganda distributed in mexico is smuggled off nazi ships docking in los angeles, and is transported across the american border by agents working under hermann schwinn, director of nazi activities for the west coast of the united states. the propaganda sent by schwinn across the american border is chiefly for distribution around guaymas, where a special effort is being made to win the sympathy of the people. meanwhile yocupicio caches arms in ures and the bland japanese continue charting the harbors and coast lines. the nazis began to build fascism in mexico right after hitler got into power. in schwinn called a meeting in mexicali of several nazi agents operating out of los angeles, including general rodriguez, and several members of a veterans organization. it was at this meeting that the mexican gold shirts were organized. under the direction of rodriguez and his right-hand men (antonio f. escobar was one of them), the fascist organization drilled and paraded, but little official attention was paid to them. five years ago few people realized the intensity and possibilities of nazi propaganda and organization. the only ones in mexico who watched the growth of the fascist military body were the trade-unionists and the communists. they remembered what happened in italy and germany when the black shirts and the brown shirts were permitted to grow strong. on november , , rodriguez and his organization staged a military demonstration in mexico city, and marched upon the president's palace. trade-unionists, liberals and communists barred their way. when the pitched battle was over, five gold shirts were dead, some sixty persons wounded, and rodriguez himself had been stabbed by a woman worker, on her lips the furious cry, "down with fascism!" when the gold shirt leader was discharged from the hospital, he found that his organization had been made illegal, and he himself exiled. rodriguez went to el paso, texas, and immediately, working through escobar, set about establishing the "confederation of the middle class" to take over now the illegal gold shirt work and consolidate the various mexican fascist groups. its headquarters was established at passo de la reforma. rodriguez kept in touch with schwinn through henry allen, a native american of san diego, who acts as liaison man. it was allen, on orders from schwinn, who last year secretly met in guaymas ramon f. iturbe, a member of the mexican chamber of deputies. iturbe is in constant touch with the fascist groups in mexico city. the gold shirts smuggled arms into mexico along the border between laredo and brownsville, and cached them in monterrey. on january , , gold shirts attempted to attack matamoros, near brownsville. a mexican policeman was killed and another wounded in the fighting. two days later gold shirts surrounded reynosa, some distance west of matamoros, but met peasants armed with rifles, pistols and knives. the fascists withdrew and rodriguez vanished, only to appear in san diego, california, on february , for a secret meeting with plutarco elias calles, the former president of mexico. after a three-hour conference rodriguez went to los angeles, met schwinn, and proceeded to mission, texas, where he established new headquarters. a few days after these conferences, he sent two men into mexico under forged passports to discuss closer cooperation among the fascist leaders. the men sent into mexico were an american named mario baldwin, one of rodriguez's chief assistants, and a mexican named sanchez yanez. they established headquarters at josé joaquin herrera, apartment -t, and met for their secret conferences in jesus de avila's tailor shop at isabel la catolico. in the latter part of june, , an amiable bar fly arrived in mexico city from berlin as civilian attaché to the german legation. a civilian attaché is the lowest grade in the diplomatic ranks and the salary is just about enough to keep him going. nevertheless, dr. heinrich northe, at that time not quite thirty, and not especially well-to-do, established a somewhat luxurious place at tokyo st. and bought a private airplane for "pleasure jaunts" about mexico. northe is seldom at the nazi legation. he is more apt to be found in sonora, where yocupicio is storing arms and where the japanese fishing fleet is active, or in acapulco, whose harbor fascinates the japanese. he used to make frequent visits to cedillo just before the general started his rebellion. on march , , northe took off "for a vacation" in the panama canal zone. he stopped off in guatemala on the way down. the persistently vacationing commercial attaché, before coming to mexico, was part of the gestapo network in moscow and bulgaria. immediately after the nazis got control of germany, northe went into the german "diplomatic service," and was one of the first secret agents sent to the german embassy in moscow. the russian secret service apparently watched him a little too closely, for he was shifted to sofia, bulgaria, where he bought a private plane and flew wherever he wished. in , when the signers of the "anti-communist pact" decided to concentrate upon mexico, northe was transferred to mexico city. one of northe's chief aids is a german adventurer who was a spy during the world war. when the war ended, hans heinrich von holleuffer, of danubio st., mexico city, worked hard at earning a dishonest penny in republican germany. when the law got after him, he skipped to mexico, where, without even pausing for breath, he went to work on his fellow countrymen in the new world. berlin asked for his arrest and extradition and von holleuffer fled to guatemala. that was in . he came back to mexico in under the name of hans helbing. when hitler got into power von holleuffer's brother-in-law became a high official in the gestapo. since there was no danger of the nazis extraditing him on charges of fraud and forgery, hans helbing became hans heinrich von holleuffer again and, without any visible means of support, established a swanky residence at the above address, got an expensive automobile, a chauffeur, and some very good-looking maids. since he has not defrauded anyone lately, the german colony in mexico still wonders how he does it. he does it by being in charge of arms smuggling from germany to mexican fascists. during the latter part of december, , he directed the unloading of one of the heaviest cargoes of arms yet shipped into mexico. northe had informed von holleuffer that a german vessel whose name even northe had not yet been given, would be ready to land a cargo of guns, munitions and mountain artillery somewhere along the wild and deserted coast of campeche where there are miles of shore with not even an indian around. von holleuffer was instructed to arrange for unloading the cargo and having it removed into the interior. on december , , von holleuffer arranged a meeting in mexico city with julio rosenberg of san juan de letran and curt kaiser at bolivar, the latter's home. he offered them fifty thousand pesos to take the contraband off the boat and transport it through the chicle jungles to the destination he would give them. shortly after the japanese-nazi pact was signed, the japanese government arranged with the somewhat naive mexican government for japanese fishing experts to conduct "scientific explorations" along mexico's pacific coast in return for teaching mexicans how to catch fish scientifically. the agreement provided that two japanese, j. yamashito and y. matsui, be employed by the mexican government for the exploratory work. matsui arrived in mexico in and immediately became interested in the fish situation at acapulco, which from a naval standpoint has the best harbor on the entire long stretch of mexico's pacific coast line. in february, , he decided that it was important to the west-coast shrimp-fishing studies for him to do some exploratory work along the northeast part of the mexican coast, near the american border, and there he went. immediately after the agreement was signed, three magnificent fishing boats, the "minatu maru," the "minowa maru" and the "saro maru," which had been hovering out on the pacific while the negotiations were going on, appeared in guaymas. their captains reported to the nippon suisan kaisha, a fishing company with headquarters in guaymas. eighty per cent of this company's stock is owned by the japanese government. each ship is equipped with large fish bins which can easily be turned into munition carriers, each has powerful short-wave sending and receiving sets; and each has extraordinarily long cruising powers ranging from three to six thousand miles. these boats do not do much fishing. they confine themselves to "exploring," which includes the taking of soundings of harbors, especially magdalena bay. apparently the explorers want to know how deep the fish can swim and whether there are any rocks or ledges in their way. that germany, japan and italy are not working toward peaceful ends in mexico is slowly dawning upon the mexican government. influential government and trade-union leaders have repeatedly shown their dislike of nazism and fascism and have urged propaganda against them. on the morning of october , , freiherr riedt von collenberg, nazi minister to mexico, telephoned the japanese and italian ministers to suggest a joint meeting to discuss steps to counteract the attacks on fascism and their countries. the japanese minister, sacchiro koshda, suave and skilled in such matters, thought it would not be wise to meet in any of the legations. the italian minister suggested the offices of the italian union on san cosne avenue. at half past one in the afternoon of october , the ministers arrived, each in a taxi instead of the legation car which carries a conspicuous diplomatic license plate. at this secret meeting which lasted until after four, they concluded that it would be unwise for them personally to take any steps to counteract the anti-fascist activities--that it would be wiser to work indirectly through fascist organizations like the confederation of the middle class and its associated bodies. a few days earlier each minister had received a letter from several organizations allied with the confederation of the middle class. it was an offer to help the berlin-tokyo-rome combination. a free translation of the passage which the ministers discussed (from the letter received by the japanese minister which i now have) follows: "we, exactly like the representatives of the three powers, love our fatherland and are disposed to any sacrifice to prevent the intervention of these elements [jews and communists] in our politics, in which, unfortunately, they have begun to have great influence. and we will employ, and are employing, all legal methods of struggle to make an end of them." the phrase "legal methods" is frequently employed by those who suggest illegal activity. the german minister knew that the _union nacionalista mexicana_, one of the signers of the letter, was run by escobar, and that carmen calero, place de la concepcion, mexico city, an elderly woman physician active in many fascist organizations, was a member of the _partido anti-reelectionista accion_, another of the signers. one month later the various fascist groups got enough money to launch an intensive pro-fascist drive under the usual guise of fighting communism. josé luis noriega, secretary of the nationalist youth of mexico, which also signed the letters to the ministers, left for the united states to organize an anti-cardenas drive. at the same time, carmen calero left on a mysterious mission to puebla on november , , with a letter from escobar to j. trinidad mata, publisher of the local paper _avance_. she carried still another letter addressed to their "distinguished comrades," without mentioning names, and signed by both escobar and ovidio pedrero valenzuela, president of the _accion civica nacionalista_. the "distinguished comrades" to whom she presented the letter were the nazi honorary consul in puebla, carl petersen, avenida , oriente , and a japanese agent named l. yuzinratsa with whom the consul has been in repeated conferences. six weeks after the secret meeting of the japanese, german and italian ministers, and one week after she went to puebla, dr. carmen calero got twenty-two kilos of dynamite and stored it in a house at juan de la mateos, in mexico city. she, her sister, colonel valenzuela, and four others, met at her home and laid plans to assassinate president cárdenas by blowing up his train when he left on a proposed trip to sonora. on november , , the secret police made a series of simultaneous raids upon dr. calero's and valenzuela's homes and the house where the dynamite was cached. they arrested everyone in the houses. but once the arrests had been made, the mexican government found itself in a quandary. to bring the prisoners to trial would involve foreign governments and create an international scandal; so cárdenas personally ordered the secret police to release them. the arrests, however, scared the wits out of the ministers, and their horror was not lessened when they discovered that the letters from the fascist organizations had vanished from their files. they wouldn't even answer the telephone when one of the released fascist leaders called. it was then that the mexican fascists decided to send a special messenger to francisco franco in spain (november , ) with the request that franco intercede to get money from hitler to help overthrow cárdenas, since the nazi minister was too scared to cooperate. the special messenger was fernando ostos mora. he never got there. footnotes: [ ] in may, , cedillo launched an abortive rebellion and is now being hunted by the mexican government. [ ] after cedillo's defeat von merck fled to new york and went to germany. v _surrounding the panama canal_ there is a little shirt shop in colon, panama, on calle a between avenida herrera and avenida amador guerrero, whose red and black painted shingle announces that lola osawa is the proprietor. across the street from her shirt shop, where the red light district begins, is a bar frequented by natives, soldiers and sailors. tourists seldom go there, for it is a bit off the beaten track. in front of the bar is a west indian boy with a tripod and camera with a telescopic lens. he never photographs natives, and wandering tourists pass him by, but he is there every day from eight in the morning until dark. his job is to photograph everyone who shows an undue interest in the little shirt shop and particularly anyone who enters or leaves it. usually he snaps your picture from across the street, but if he misses you he darts across and waits to take another shot when you come out. i saw him take my picture when i entered the store. it was almost high noon and lola was not yet up. the business upon which she and her husband are supposed to depend for a living was in the hands of two giggling young panamanian girls who sat idly at two ancient singer sewing machines. "you got shirts?" i asked. without troubling to rise and wait on me, they pointed to a glass case stretched across the room and barring quick entrance to the shop proper. i examined the assortment in the case, counting a total of twenty-eight shirts. "i don't especially like these," i said. "got any others?" "no more," one of them giggled. "where's lola?" "upstairs," the other said, motioning with her thumb to the ceiling. "looks like you're doing a rushing business, eh?" they looked puzzled and i explained: "busy, eh?" "busy? no. no busy." there is little work for them and neither lola nor they care a whoop whether or not you buy any of the shop's stock of twenty-eight shirts. lola herself pays little attention to the business from which she obviously cannot earn enough to pay the rent, let alone keep herself and her husband, pay two girls and a lookout. the little shirt shop is a cubbyhole about nine feet square, its wooden walls painted a pale, washed-out blue. a deck which cuts the store's height in half, forms a little balcony which is covered by a green and yellow print curtain stretched across it. to the right, casually covered by another print curtain, is a red painted ladder by which the deck is reached. on the deck, at the extreme left, where it is not perceptible from the street or the shop, is another tiny ladder which reaches to the ceiling. if you stand on the ladder and press against the ceiling directly over it, a well-oiled trap door will open soundlessly and lead you into lola's bedroom above the shop. in front of the window with the blue curtain is a worn bed, the hard mattress neatly covered with a counterpane. at the head of the mattress is a mended tear. it is in this mattress that lola hides photographs of extraordinary military and naval importance. i saw four of them. the charming little seamstress is one of the most capable of the japanese espionage agents operating in the canal zone area. lola osawa is not her right name. she is chiyo morasawa, who arrived at balboa from yokahama on the japanese steamship "anyo maru" on may , , and promptly disappeared for almost a year. when she appeared again, she was lola osawa, seamstress. she has been an active japanese agent for almost ten years, specializing in getting photographs of military importance. her husband, who entered panama without a panamanian visa on his passport, is a reserve officer in the japanese navy. he lives with lola in the room above the shop, never does any work though he passes as a merchant, and is always wandering around with a camera. occasionally he vanishes to japan. his last trip was in . at that time he stayed there over a year. to defend the ten-mile-wide and forty-six-mile-long strip of land, lakes and canal which the republic of panama leased to the united states "in perpetuity," the army, navy and air corps have woven a network of secret fortifications, laid mines and placed anti-aircraft guns. foreign spies and international adventurers play a sleepless game to learn these military and naval secrets. the isthmus is a center of intrigue, plotting, conniving, conspiracy and espionage, with the intelligence departments of foreign governments bidding high for information. for the capture or disablement of the canal by an enemy would mean that american ships would have to go around the horn to get from one coast to another--a delay which in time of war might prove to be the difference between victory and defeat. because of the efficiency and speed of modern communication and transportation, any region within five hundred to a thousand miles of a military objective is considered in the "sensitive zone," especially if it is of great strategic importance. hence, espionage activities embrace central and south american republics which may have to be used by an enemy as a base of operations. costa rica, north of the canal, and colombia, south of it, are beehives of secret japanese, nazi and italian activities. special efforts are made to buy or lease land "for colonization," but the land chosen is such that it can be turned into an air base almost overnight. for decades japanese in the canal zone area have been photographing everything in sight, not only around the canal, but for hundreds of miles north and south of it; and the japanese fishing fleet has taken soundings of the waters and harbors along the coast. since the conclusion of the japanese-nazi "anti-communist pact," nazi agents have been sent to german colonies in central and south america to organize them, carry on propaganda and cooperate secretly with japanese agents. italy, which had been only mildly interested in central america, has become extremely active in cultivating the friendship of central american republics since she joined the tokyo-berlin tie-up. let me illustrate: the recognized vulnerability of the canal has caused the united states to plan another through nicaragua. the friendship of the nicaraguan government and people, therefore, is of great importance to us from both a commercial and a military standpoint. it is likewise of importance to others. italy undertook to gain nicaragua's friendship when she joined the japanese-nazi line-up. first, she offered scholarships, with all expenses paid, for nicaraguan students to study fascism in italy. then, on december , , about one month after a secret nazi agent arrived in central america with orders to step on the propaganda and organizational activity, the italian s.s. "leme" sailed out of naples with a cargo of guns, armored cars, mountain artillery, machine guns and a considerable amount of munitions. on january , , the secretary of the italian legation in san josé, costa rica, flew to managua, nicaragua, to witness the delivery of arms which arrived in managua on january , . diplomatic representatives do not usually witness purely business transactions, but this was a shipment worth $ , which the italian government knew nicaragua could not pay. but, as one of the results, italy today has a firm foothold in the country through which the united states hopes to build another canal. the international espionage underground world, which knew that the shipment of arms was coming, has it that japan, germany and italy split the cost of the arms among themselves to gain the friendship of the nicaraguan government. a flood of nazi propaganda sent on short-wave beams is directed at central and south america from germany. in spanish, german, portuguese and english, regular programs are sent across at government expense. government subsidized news agencies flood the newspapers with "news dispatches" which they sell at a nominal price or give away. the programs and the "news dispatches" explain and glorify the totalitarian form of government, and since many of the sister "republics" are dictatorships, they are ideologically sympathetic and receptive. the nazis are strong in colombia, south of the canal, with a bund training regularly in military maneuvers at cali. since the japanese-nazi pact, the japanese have established a colony of several hundred at corinto in the cauca valley, thirty miles from cali. the japanese colony was settled on land carefully chosen--long, level, flat acres which overnight can be turned into an air base for a fleet landed from an airplane carrier or assembled on the spot. and it is near cali that alejandro tujun, a japanese in constant touch with the japanese foreign office, is at this writing dickering for the purchase of , acres of level land for "colonization." on such an acreage enough military men could be colonized to give the united states a first-class headache in time of war. it is two hours flying time from cali to the canal. the entrances on either side of the panama canal are secretly mined. the location of these mines is one of the most carefully guarded secrets of the american navy and one of the most sought after by international spies. the japanese, who have been fishing along the west coast and panamanian waters for years, are the only fishermen who find it necessary to use sounding lines to catch fish. sounding lines are used to measure the depths of the waters and to locate submerged ledges and covered rocks in this once mountainous area. any fleet which plans to approach the canal or use harbors even within several hundred miles north or south of the canal must have this information to know just where to go and how near to shore they can approach before sending out landing parties. the use of sounding lines by japanese fishermen and the mysterious going and comings of their boats became so pronounced that the panamanian government could not ignore them. it issued a decree prohibiting all aliens from fishing in panamanian waters. in april, , the "taiyo maru," flying the american flag but manned by japanese, hauled up her anchor in the dead of night and with all lights out chugged from the unrestricted waters into the area where the mines are generally believed to be laid. the "taiyo" operated out of san diego, california, and once established a world's record of being one hundred and eleven days at sea without catching a single fish. the captain, piloting the boat from previous general knowledge of the waters rather than by chart, unfortunately ran aground. the fishing vessel was stranded on a submerged ledge and couldn't get off. in the morning the authorities found her, took off her captain and crew--all of whom had cameras--and asked why the boat was in restricted waters. "i didn't know where i was," said the captain. "we were fishing for bait." "but bait is caught in the daytime by all other fishermen," the officials pointed out. "we thought we might catch some at night," the captain explained. since , when rumors of the japanese-nazi pact began to circulate throughout the world, the japanese have made several attempts to get a foothold right at the entrance to the canal on the pacific side. they have moved heaven and earth for permission to establish a refrigeration plant on taboga island, some twelve miles out on the pacific ocean and facing the canal. taboga island would make a perfect base from which to study the waters and fortifications along the coast and the islands between the canal and taboga. when this and other efforts failed and there was talk of banning alien fishing in panamanian waters, yoshitaro amano, who runs a store in panama and has far flung interests all along the pacific coasts of central and south america, organized the amano fisheries, ltd. in july, , he built in japan the "amano maru," as luxurious a fishing boat as ever sailed the seas. with a purring diesel engine, it has the longest cruising range of any fishing vessel afloat, a powerful sending and receiving radio with a permanent operator on board, and an extremely secret japanese invention enabling it to detect and locate mines. like all other japanese in the canal zone area, amano, rated a millionaire in chile, goes in for a little photography. in september, , word spread along the international espionage grapevine that nicaragua, through which the united states was planning another canal, had some sort of peculiar fortifications in the military zone at managua. shortly thereafter the japanese millionaire appeared at managua with his expensive camera and headed straight for the military zone. thirty minutes after he arrived ( : a.m. of october , ), he was in a nicaraguan jail charged with suspected espionage and with taking pictures in prohibited areas. i mention this incident because the luxurious boat was registered under the panamanian flag and immediately began a series of actions so peculiar that the republic of panama canceled the panamanian registry. the "amano" promptly left for puntarenas, costa rica, north of the canal, which has a harbor big enough to take care of almost all the fleets in the world. many of the japanese ships went there, sounding lines and all, when alien fishing was prohibited in panamanian waters. today the "amano maru" is a mystery ship haunting puntarenas and the waters between costa rica and panama and occasionally vanishing out to sea with her wireless crackling constantly. some seventy fishing vessels operating out of san diego, california, fly the american flag. san diego is of great importance to a potential enemy because it is a naval as well as an air base. of these seventy vessels flying the american flag, ten are either partially or entirely manned by japanese. let me illustrate how boats fly the american flag: on march , , the s.s. "columbus" was registered as an american fishing vessel under certificate of registry no. , , issued at los angeles. the vessel is owned by the columbus fishing company of los angeles. the captain, r.i. suenaga, is a twenty-six-year-old japanese, born in hawaii and a full-fledged american citizen. the navigator and one sailor are also japanese, born in hawaii but american citizens. the crew of ten consists entirely of japanese born in japan. the ten boats which fly the american flag but are manned by japanese crews are: "alert," "asama," "columbus," "flying cloud," "magellan," "oipango," "san lucas," "santa margarita," "taiyo," "wesgate." each boat carries a short-wave radio and has a cruising range of from three to five thousand miles, which is extraordinary for just little fishing boats. they operate on the high seas and where they go, only the master and crew and those who send them know. the only time anyone gets a record of them is when they come in to refuel or repair. in the event of war half a dozen of these fishing vessels, stretched across the pacific at intervals of five hundred or a thousand miles, would make an excellent system of communication for messages which could be relayed from one to another and in a few moments reach their destination. in colón on the atlantic side and in panama on the pacific, east and west literally meet at the crossroads of the world. the winding streets are crowded with the brown and black people who comprise three-fourths of panama's population. on these teeming, hot, tropical streets are some three hundred japanese storekeepers, fishermen, commission merchants and barbers-few of whom do much business, but all of whom sit patiently in their doorways, reading the newspapers or staring at the passer-by. i counted forty-seven japanese barbers in panama and eight in colón. in panama they cluster on avenida central and calle carlos a. mendoza. on both these streets rents are high and, with the exception of saturdays when the natives come for haircuts, the amount of business the barbers do does not warrant the three to five men in each shop. yet, though they earn scarcely enough to meet their rent, there is not a lowly barber among them who does not have a leica or contax camera with which, until the sinking of the "panay," they wandered around, photographing the canal, the islands around the canal, the coast line, and the topography of the region. they live in panama with a sort of permanence, but nine out of ten do not have families--even those advanced in years. periodically some of them take trips to japan, though, if you watch their business carefully, you know they could not possibly have earned enough to pay for their passage. and those in the outlying districts don't even pretend to have a business. they just sit and wait, without any visible means of support. it is not until you study their locations, as in the province of chorrera, that you find they are in spots of strategic military or naval importance. since there were so many barbers in panama, the need for an occasional gathering without attracting too much attention became apparent. and so the little barber, a. sonada, who shaves and cuts hair at carlos a. mendoza street, organized a "labor union," the barbers' association. the association will not accept barbers of other nationalities but will allow japanese fishermen to attend meetings. they meet on the second floor of the building at carlos a. mendoza street, where many of the fishermen live. at their meetings one guard stands outside the room and another downstairs at the entrance to the building. on hot sunday afternoons when the barbers' association gathers, the diplomatic representatives of other nations are usually taking a siesta or are down at the beach, but tetsuo umimoto, the japanese consul, climbs the stairs in the stuffy atmosphere and sits in on the deliberations of the barbers and visiting fishermen. it is the only barbers' union i ever heard of whose deliberations were considered important enough for a diplomatic representative to attend. this labor union has another extraordinary custom. it has a special fund to put competitors up in business. whenever a japanese arrives in panama, the barbers' association opens a shop for him, buys the chairs-provides him with everything necessary to compete with them for the scarce trade in the shaving and shearing industry! at these meetings the barber sonada, who is only a hired hand, sits beside the japanese consul at the head of the room. umimoto remains standing until sonada is seated. when another barber, t. takano, who runs a little hole-in-the-wall shop and lives at avenida b, shows up, both sonada and the consul rise, bow very low and remain standing until he motions them to be seated. maybe it's just an old japanese custom, but the consul does not extend the same courtesy to the other barbers. in attendance at these guarded meetings of the barbers' union and visiting fishermen, is katarino kubayama, a gentle-faced, soft-spoken, middle-aged businessman with no visible business. he is fifty-five years old now and lives at calle colón, casa no. . way back in kubayama was a barefoot japanese fisherman like the others now on the west coast. one morning two japanese battleships appeared and anchored in the harbor. from the reed-and vegetation covered jungle shore, a sun-dried, brown _panga_ was rowed out by the barefooted fisherman using the short quick strokes of the native. his brown, soiled dungarees were rolled up to his calves; his shirt, open at the throat, was torn and his head was covered by a ragged straw hat. the silvery notes of a bugle sounded. the crew of the flagship lined up at attention. the officers, including the commander, also waited stiffly at attention while the fisherman tied his _panga_ to the ship's ladder. as kubayama clambered on board, the officers saluted. with a great show of formality they escorted him to the commander's quarters, the junior officer following behind at a respectful distance. two hours later kubayama was escorted to the ladder again, the trumpet sounded its salute, and the ragged fisherman rowed away--all conducted with a courtesy extended only to a high ranking officer of the japanese navy. today kubayama works closely with the japanese consul. together they call upon the captains of japanese ships whenever they come to panama, and are closeted with them for hours at a time. kubayama says he is trying to sell supplies to the captains. japanese in the canal zone area change their names periodically or come with several passports all prepared. there is, for instance, shoichi yokoi, who commutes between japan and panama without any commercial reasons. on june , , the japanese foreign office in tokyo issued passport no. , to him under the name of masakazu yokoy with permission to visit all central and south american countries. though he had permission for all, he applied only for a panamanian visa (september , ), after which he settled down for a while among the fishermen and barbers. on july , , the foreign office in tokyo handed yokoy another passport under the name of shoichi yokoi, together with visas which filled the whole passport and overflowed onto several extra pages. shoichi or masakazu is now traveling with both passports and a suitcase full of film for his camera. several years ago a japanese named t. tahara came to panama as the traveling representative of a newly organized company, the official japanese association of importers and exporters for latin america, and established headquarters in the offices of the boyd bros. shipping agency in panama. nelson rounsevell, publisher of the _panama american_, who has fought japanese colonization in canal areas, printed a story that this big businessman got very little mail, made no efforts to establish business contacts and, in talking with the few businessmen he met socially, showed a complete lack of knowledge about business. tahara was talked about and orders promptly came through for him to return to japan. this was in . half a year later, a suave japanese named takahiro wakabayashi appeared in panama as the representative of the federation of japanese importers and exporters, the same organization under a slightly changed name. wakabayashi checked into the cool and spacious hotel tivoli, run by the united states government on canal zone territory and, protected by the guardian wings of the somewhat sleepy american eagle, washed up and made a beeline for the boyd bros. office, where he was closeted with the general manager for over an hour. wakabayashi's business interests ranged from taking pictures of the canal in specially chartered planes, to negotiating for manganese deposits and attempting to establish an "experimental station to grow cotton in costa rica." the big manganese-and-cotton-photographer man fluttered all over central and south america, always with his camera. one week he was in san josé, costa rica; the next he made a hurried special flight to bogotá, colombia (november , ); then back to panama and costa rica. he finally got permission from costa rica to establish his experimental station. in obtaining that concession he was aided by giuseppe sotanis, an italian gentleman wearing the fascist insignia in the lapel of his coat, whom he met at the gran hotel in san josé. sotanis, a former italian artillery officer, is a nattily dressed, slender man in his early forties who apparently does nothing in san josé except study his immaculate finger nails, drink scotch-and-sodas, collect stamps and vanish every few months only to reappear again, still studying his immaculate finger nails. it was sotanis who arranged for nicaragua to get the shipment of arms and munitions which i mentioned earlier. this uncommunicative italian stamp collector paved the way for wakabayashi to meet raul gurdian, the costa rican minister of finance, and ramon madrigal, vice-president of the government-owned national bank and a prominent costa rican merchant. shortly after costa rica gave wakabayashi permission to experiment with his cotton growing, both the minister of finance and the vice-president of the government bank took trips to japan. the ink was scarcely dry on the agreement to permit the japanese to experiment in cotton growing before a japanese steamer appeared in puntarenas with twenty-one young and alert japanese and a bag of cotton seed. they were "laborers," wakabayashi explained. the "laborers" were put up in first-class hotels and took life easy while wakabayashi and one of the laborers started hunting a suitable spot on which to plant their bag of seed. all sorts of land was offered to them, but wakabayashi wanted no land anywhere near a hill or a mountain. he finally found what he wanted half-way between puntarenas and san josé--long, level, flat acres. he wanted this land at any price, finally paying for it an annual rental equal to the value of the acres. the twenty-one "laborers" who had been brought from chimbota, peru, where there is a colony of twenty thousand japanese, planted an acre with cotton seed and sat them down to rest, imperturbable, silent, waiting. the plowed land is now as smooth and level as the acres at corinto in colombia, south of the canal. the harbor at puntarenas, as i mentioned earlier, would make a splendid base of operations for an enemy fleet. not far from shore are the flat, level acres of the "experimental station" and the twenty-one japanese who could quickly turn these smooth acres into an air base. it is north of the panama canal and within two hours flying time of it, as corinto is south of the canal and within two hours flying time. the boyd bros. steamship agency, to which tahara and wakabayashi went immediately upon arrival, is an american concern. the manager, with whom each was closeted, is hans hermann heildelk of avenida peru, no. , panama city, and, though efforts have been made to keep it secret, part owner of the agency. heildelk is also the son-in-law of ernst f. neumann, the nazi consul to panama. on november , , heildelk returned from japan by way of germany. five days later, on november , , his father-in-law, who, besides being nazi consul, owns in partnership with fritz kohpcke, one of the largest hardware stores in panama, told his clerks that he and his partner would work a little late that night. neither partner went out to eat and the corrugated sliding door of the store, at norte no. in the heart of the panamanian commercial district, was left open about three feet from the ground so that passers-by could not see inside unless they stooped deliberately. at eight o'clock a car drew up at the corner of the darkened street in front of neumann & kohpcke, ltd. two unidentified men, heildelk and walter scharpp, former nazi consul at colón who had also just returned from germany, stepped out, and stooping under the partly open door, entered the store. once inside scharpp quietly assumed command. to all practical purposes they were on german territory, for the nazi consulate office was in the store. scharpp announced that the group had been very carefully chosen because of their known loyalty to nazi germany and because of their desire to promote friendship for germany in latin american countries and to cooperate with the japanese, who had their own organization functioning efficiently in central and south america. "some of these countries are already friendly," said scharpp, "and we can work undisturbed provided we do not interfere in the panama canal zone. it is north american territory, and you will have trouble from their officials and intelligence officers as well as political pressure from the states. you understand?" "panama is friendly to north america," said kohpcke. "precisely. at the present time it is not wise to do much more than broadcast, but at a propitious time we shall be able to explain national socialism to the panamanians." he looked at kohpcke, whose left eyelid droops more than his right, giving him the appearance of being perpetually sleepy. kohpcke looked at neumann. "tonight we want to organize a bund in panama. in a few days i am going to costa rica to organize another and then leave for valparaiso." the others nodded. they had been informed that scharpp was to have complete charge of nazi activities from valparaiso to panama. that night they established _der deutsch-ausländische nazi genossenschafts bund_, with the understanding that it function secretly. the list of members was to be controlled by neumann. scharpp explained that secrecy was advisable to avoid antagonizing the panamanian government, "which is friendly to italy and we can cooperate with the italian legation here." "the japanese are more important that the italians," kohpcke pointed out. "the japanese will work with us," heildelk assured him. "but we can't be seen with them--" "fritz [kohpcke] will call a meeting in jacobs' house," said scharpp. "jacobs!" exclaimed one of the unidentified men. "you don't mean the austrian consul!" scharpp nodded slowly. "he is generally believed to be anti-nazi. his partner spent twelve years in japan and speaks japanese perfectly. the japanese consul knows and trusts both. we cannot find a better place." on the night of december , , forty carefully selected germans who, during the intervening month had become members of the bund in panama, arrived singly and in small groups at the home of august jacobs-kantstein, panamanian merchant and austrian honorary consul. five japanese, headed by tetsuo umimoto, also came. one, k. ishibashi, formerly captain of the "hokkai maru" and a reserve officer in the japanese navy; k. ohihara, a japanese agent staying with the japanese consul but having no visible reason to be in panama; two captains of japanese fishing boats and a. sonada, the barber who organized the labor union and in whose presence the consul does not sit until the barber is seated. throughout the meeting, presided over by the elderly but tall and soldierly austrian consul, the japanese said little. it was primarily the first get-together for nazi-japanese cooperation in the canal zone area. "mr. umimoto has not said much," remarked jacobs. "there is so little to say when there are so many present," said the little consul apologetically. the others understood. the japanese were too shrewd to discuss detailed plans with so many present. a few days later umimoto called upon heildelk and was closeted with him for three hours. shortly after that sonada made a hurried trip to japan. vi _secret agents arrive in america_ germany's interest in the panama canal became acute only after japan joined the rome-berlin axis "to exchange information about communism"--an exchange which appears to be more concerned with military secrets than with communism. the activities of japanese and nazi agents in latin american countries and especially around the canal, the organizing of a fascist rebellion in mexico to the south of us and intensive propaganda carried on in canada to the north, are but part of the broad invasion of the western hemisphere by the fifth column--an invasion which began almost immediately after hitler got into power. since the united states is the most important country in the americas, it was and is subject to special concentration by secret nazi agents. the first threads spun spread out in many directions, with propaganda as the base from which to broaden espionage activities. one of the earliest of the secret agents sent to this country was an american, colonel edwin emerson, soldier of fortune, mediocre author and fairly competent war correspondent. emerson lived at east th street, new york city and had an office in room at battery place, the address of the german consulate general. room was rented by a representative of the german consul general. the rent paid was nominal and in at least one instance, to avoid its being traced, it was paid in cash by hitler's diplomatic representative. prior to the renting of this room, emerson had desk space with the german consulate general for six weeks. the may , , issue of the _amerika deutsche post_, a nazi propaganda organ published in new york, carried an advertisement stating that the editor of this paper made his headquarters in emerson's room. this was the first indication that emerson had arrived in this country to handle nazi propaganda. for many years emerson had wandered about the globe covering assignments for newspapers and magazines and always bragging about his americanism and his "patriotism." one of his great boasts was that he was with roosevelt's rough riders during the spanish-american war; what he never told was that roosevelt brought him back from cuba in irons. from his room paid for by the german consul general, emerson launched the "friends of germany."[ ] this organization was the chief disseminator of pro-hitler and anti-democratic propaganda in the united states, but the colonel directed the propaganda somewhat stupidly. the "friends of germany" held meetings with "storm troops" in full uniform; bitter attacks were made against jews and catholics at large mass meetings. visiting officers and sailors, from german ships docked in new york, appeared at these meetings to preach fascism and nazism, until a wave of resentment swept the country. one of the keynotes of these talks was sounded by edward f. sullivan of boston at a meeting held at turnhalle, lexington avenue and th street, on june th, , when he repeatedly referred to jews as "dirty, stinking kikes" and announced that he proposed to organize a strong nazi group in boston. propaganda minister goebbels in berlin became annoyed at the public reaction, and the entire nazi foreign propaganda service was reorganized. emerson was ordered back to germany for explicit instructions on how to carry on propaganda without antagonizing the entire country. in october, , royal scott gulden (who has no connection with the mustard business, but is a distant relative of the head of it), who had been cooperating with emerson, tried to organize an espionage system to watch communists. in this effort gulden enlisted the aid of fred r. marvin, a professional patriot. at three o'clock on the afternoon of march , , a very secret meeting was called by gulden at east th street. present were gulden, j. schmidt and william dudley pelley, head of the silver shirts. the meeting decided to adopt anti-semitic propaganda--to play on latent anti-semitism--as part of the first campaign to attract followers. the country was in a serious economic crisis with considerable unrest throughout the land. both hitler and mussolini got into power in periods of great unrest by promising peace and security to the bewildered people. men of means were terrified by fears of "revolution" and this group, directed by emerson, began to preach that the revolution might come any minute and that the jews were responsible for moscow, the third international, the mississippi flood and anything else that troubled the people. when the meeting ended the "order of ' "[ ] had been born and royal scott gulden appointed secretary to direct espionage and propaganda. from the very beginning emerson tried to get people into places which would provide access to important information. on february , , a merger of the republican senatorial and congressional campaign committees to conduct the party's congressional campaign independent of the republican national committee was announced in a joint statement by senator daniel o. hastings of delaware and representative chester c. bolton of ohio, chairmen, respectively, of the two committees. several weeks before this announcement, the two committees had employed sidney brooks, for years head of the research bureau of the international telephone and telegraph company. brooks, because of his position, was close in the confidences of republican senators and congressmen. he heard state secrets and had his fingers on the political pulse of the country. shortly after he took charge of the joint committee for the senators and congressmen, brooks made a hurried visit to new york. on march , , he drove to the hotel edison and went directly to room where a man registered as "william d. goodales--los angeles," was awaiting him. mr. "goodales" was william dudley pelley, head of the silver shirts, who had come to new york to confer with brooks and gulden. after this conference the two went to gulden's office where they had a confidential talk that lasted over an hour during which an agreement was made to merge the order of ' with the silver shirts so as to carry on their propaganda more effectively. brooks himself, on his mysterious visits to new york, went to battery place, which houses the german consulate general. at that address he visited one john e. kelly. in a letter to kelly dated as far back as december , , he wrote: "i will be in new york friday to monday and can be reached in the usual manner--gramercy - (care emerson)." sidney brooks also was a member of the secret order of ' . before anyone could join he had to give, in his own handwriting and sealed with his own fingerprints, certain details of his life. brooks' application for membership in this espionage group organized with the help of a nazi sent to this country, revealed that he was the son of the nazi agent, colonel edwin emerson, and that he was using his mother's maiden name so that connection could not be traced too easily. [illustration: application by sidney brooks for membership in the secret order of ' , showing him to be a son of the nazi agent, colonel edwin emerson.] one of the other early propagandists who is still active as a "patriot" was edward h. hunter, executive secretary of the industrial defense association, inc., water street, boston. early in , while the negotiations for the merging of the espionage order and the silver shirts were going on, this rooter for american liberty heard germany was spending money in this country and on march , he wrote to the "friends of germany": "under separate cover we are sending you twenty-five copies of our _swan song of hate_ as requested and you may have as many as you wish. "several times i have conferred with dr. tippelskirch and at one time suggested that if he could secure the financial backing from germany, i could start a real campaign along lines that would be very effective. "all that is necessary to return america to americans is to organize the many thousands of persons who are victims of judaism and i am ready to do that at any time." dr. tippelskirch, with whom hunter discussed getting money from germany for anti-semitic work, was the german consul in boston. the activities of the early agents ranged from propaganda to smuggling and espionage, though at the beginning the espionage was on a minor scale. it took several years of organizing pro-german groups in this country before they could pick the most reliable for the more dangerous spy work. much of the propaganda was sent in openly through the mails, but some of it was of so vicious and anti-democratic character that the propaganda ministry in germany decided it was wiser to smuggle it in from nazi ships. one of the chief smugglers was guenther orgell,[ ] at that time head of the "friends of germany," through whom the propaganda was distributed to various branches of the organization throughout the country. in those days orgell lived at west th street, new york city,[ ] and was ostensibly employed as an electrical engineer by the raymond roth co., west th street. let me illustrate how he worked: at twenty minutes to ten on the evening of march , , the north german lloyd "europa" was preparing to sail at midnight. the gaily illuminated boat was filled with men and women, many in evening dress, seeing friends off to europe. german stewards, all of them members of the ship's nazi _gruppe_, stood about smiling, bowing, but watching every passenger and visitor carefully. people wandered all over the boat. many visited the library on the main promenade deck, which has a german post office. there was a great deal of laughter and chatter. orgell, dressed in an ordinary business suit and carrying a folded newspaper in his hands, wandered in. catching the post office steward's eye, he casually took four letters from his coat pocket and handed them to the steward who as casually slipped them into his pocket. there were no stamps on the letters, which, incidentally, constituted a federal offense. still so casual in manner that the average observer would not even have noticed the transfer of the letters, orgell wandered over to a desk in the library and rapidly wrote another letter--so important, apparently, that he dared not carry it with him for fear of a mishap. the letter was sealed and handed to the steward. the library had a great many visitors. no one seemed to be paying any attention to this visitor or passenger talking to the steward. with a quick glance around him, orgell took in everyone in the library and seemed satisfied. he caught the steward's eye again and nodded. the steward opened a closet in the library, the second one left of the main aisle on the port side toward the stern of the boat. a thin package was taken from its hiding place and quickly slipped to orgell who covered it with his newspaper and promptly left the ship. this was the manner in which nazi secret instructions and spy reports were sent and received--a procedure that kept up until the arrest of the nazi spies who were tried late in . when orgell needed trusted men to deliver messages to and from the boats as well as to smuggle off material, he usually called upon the american branch of the _stahlhelm_, or steel helmets, which used to drill secretly in anticipation of _der tag_ in this country. only when he felt that he was not being watched, or only in the event of the most important messages, did he go aboard the ships personally. orgell's liaison man in the smuggling activities was frank mutschinski, a painting contractor who used to live at garland court, garritsen beach, n.y. mutschinski came to the united states from germany on the s.s. "george washington," june , . he was commander of one of the american branches of the _stahlhelm_ which had offices at east th street, new york. while he was in command, he received his orders direct from franz seldte, subsequently minister of labor under hitler. seldte at that time was in magdeburg, germany. branches of the _stahlhelm_ were established by him and orgell in rochester, chicago, philadelphia, newark, detroit, los angeles and toronto (the first step in the fifth column's invasion of canada). to help orgell in his smuggling activities, mutschinski supplied him with a chief assistant, carl brunkhorst. it was brunkhorst's job to deliver the secret letters. nazi uniforms for american storm troopers were smuggled into this country off german ships by paul bante who lived at east rd street, new york city. bante, at the time he was engaged in the smuggling activities, was a member of the th coast guard as well as the new york national guard. in the early days of organizing the nazi web over the united states, the german agents received cooperation from racketeering "patriots" who saw possibilities of scaring the wits out of the american people by announcing that the "revolution" was just around the corner. the country was in an economic crisis, the american people were bewildered and didn't know which way to turn, there was considerable unrest in the land, and the nazi agents and their american counterparts visualized in hitler's cry that "communism and the jews" were responsible, grand pickings from the scared suckers. since communism, especially in those restless days in the depths of the depression, was the bugaboo of the rich, it was inevitable that some unscrupulous but shrewd observers of the american scene would take advantage of this fear and capitalize on it. one of the chief racketeers, a man who subsequently worked very closely with secret nazi agents in this country, was harry a. jung, honorary general manager of the american vigilant intelligence federation, post office box , chicago. this organization was originally founded to spy on communists and socialists. for a while jung collected from terrified employers by promising to inform them about the threat of revolution--what time it would occur and who would lead it. in return he collected plenty. in time employers got fed up when the rowboat loaded with bomb-throwing bolsheviks failed to arrive from moscow. pickings became slim. jung was badly in need of a new terror-inspiring "issue" with which to collect from the suckers. he found it at the time emerson was sent here from germany. gulden, pelley and their associates were launching an anti-semitic campaign as the first step to attract people to the "friends of germany." jung likewise discovered the "menace of the jew" and peddled it for all it was worth. [illustration: showing the type of literature peddled by patrioteer harry a. jung.] there was an air of secrecy about the whole outfit. even the location of the office in the chicago tribune tower was kept from the membership; all they were given was the post office box number. as soon as he collected enough material from the _daily worker_ and other communist publications, he sent agents to call on the gullible businessmen with horrendous stories of the muscovites now on the high seas on their way to capture the american government. the salesmen collected and in turn got forty per cent of the pickings. when jung heard that william dudley pelley was making money on the jew-and-catholic scare and that others like edward h. hunter of the industrial defense association were talking with the german consul general about getting money from germany for propaganda, he got busy peddling "the protocols of the elders of zion," long discredited as forgeries. armed with these, jung's high pressure salesmen scoured the country, collecting shekels from christian businessmen and getting their forty per cent commissions. it was not long before jung, pelley and others were working in full swing with secret nazi agents sent into this country for propaganda and espionage purposes. footnotes: [ ] subsequently changed to "friends of the new germany" and then to the current "german-american bund." [ ] still functioning on a minor scale. the fifth column has since these early beginnings established much more efficient groups. [ ] following passage of the new law requiring all foreign agents to register, orgell registered with the state department as a german agent. [ ] he now lives at great kills, staten island, n.y. vii _nazi spies and american "patriots"_ once the spadework was done by the early nazi agents sent into the united states, the web rapidly embraced native fascists, racketeering "patriots" and deluded americans who swallowed their propaganda. when japan joined the rome-berlin axis, espionage directed against american naval and military forces became one of the major interests of the foreign agents, especially on the west coast. some five years ago, after the mccormick congressional committee investigation into nazi activities turned up a number of propagandists, there was a lull in their activity until the nation-wide denunciations died out. in the meantime goebbels again ordered the reorganization of the entire propaganda machine in this country. it was during this period that the approaching presidential elections presented an immediate task for the nazis to work on. the roosevelt administration was considered by the nazis both here and in germany as none too friendly to hitler, and before the election got well under way the nazis here, upon instructions from their local leaders who act only upon instructions from the german propaganda bureau, became active in the anti-roosevelt campaign. both nazi agents and "patriotic" american groups working with nazi agents (without much money after the congressional committee's exposés) suddenly found themselves possessed of more than enough capital with which to operate. some of the money came from the nazis and some from anti-roosevelt forces. one of the most vicious of the anti-roosevelt propaganda mediums was established by nazi agents in a carefully hidden printing plant. [illustration: anti-semitic anti-roosevelt handbill issued by the american white guard in california.] no one who got off on the sixth floor at w. ohio st., chicago, and entered the john baumgarth's specialty company, would have suspected anything out of the ordinary about the place. it looked just like hundreds of other business firms where pale girls and anemic-looking men made calendars. people came up on the ancient elevator, attended to their affairs at the desks in front of the door, and left. very few of them ever went behind the enormous piles of cardboard and paper which almost obstructed the passage to the right of the desks. but if you turned into this passage and then turned to the left, you came upon a wooden partition. unless you were watching for it you would think it a wall. there was no indication of what was behind the partition. there was only a shiny yale lock in a door carefully hidden from the eyes of casual visitors. if you knew nothing about it and tried to open the door, you would find it locked. if you knocked or banged on it, there would be no answering sign from the other side, and the young man operating the cutting machine alongside the partition would merely stare at you blankly. but if you knocked three times quickly, paused for a split second and then knocked once more, the door would be opened immediately. without the proper signal all the knocking in the world would not help, for this was the entrance to the carefully guarded publication rooms of the _american gentile_ and the headquarters for nazi anti-democratic activities in the middle west. but even more guarded than the location of the printing plant were the goings and comings of the paper's editor, captain victor dekayville and his financial backer, charles o'brien. this brings me to two of the leading nazi agents in the united states, one of whom originally started the newspaper. certainly none of the american suckers who gave them money to spread pro-nazi propaganda knew that both were masquerading under false names and that one of them is an ex-convict. those social leaders in chicago and san francisco, whose doors were always open to the handsome, dashing prince peter kushubue with his sad eyes and his talk of how the bolsheviki had confiscated his vast estates and family jewels in old russia, may be interested to learn that his highness, the prince, is really--well, let me give a brief sketch of his activities before he became a nazi agent: in , a russian emigré, born in petrograd and christened peter afanassieff or aphanassieff, came to the united states seeking his fortune, preferably in the form of a wealthy heiress. as an ordinary run-of-the-mill afanassieff, he was just an unemployed white russian looking for a job and it didn't take him long to discover that in this democratic country heiresses and their doting papas go nuts over titles. so overnight peter afanassieff blossomed out into prince peter kushubue; and as a prince whose wealth had been confiscated by the bolsheviki, the doors of san francisco society opened to him. afanassieff just barely missed marrying a wealthy heiress on the west coast, and in his despondence he tried his hand at a little forgery. but he picked the wrong outfit to practice penmanship on. he forged a united states treasury check and when the federal men got after him he fled to chicago. he was picked up and on november , , he found himself before a u.s. commissioner who ordered his return to san francisco. on december of the same year he pleaded guilty before federal judge f.j. kerrigan and was given a year and a half. at the trial he admitted to being just an ordinary afanassieff and served his sentence under that name. when he came out he alternated between being prince kushubue and an ordinary afanassieff and then, because the crash had kicked the bottom out of the market for foreign titles, he picked himself a good solid american name: armstrong. he said it was his mother's maiden name. for convenience we'll call him armstrong from now on. when he arrived in chicago in , he met some white russians who were working with harry a. jung on an altogether new translation of the "protocols." jung planned to publish and distribute the forgeries in order to scare the wits out of his christian suckers, but changed his mind when he discovered he could buy them cheaper and resell at a higher price. jung, in turn, introduced armstrong to nazi agents. jung and the ex-convict hit it up. before long armstrong became jung's secret agent no. (jung is no. and always signs his letters to agents with that number. his agents, too, sign only their numbers. they are not supposed even to write the number but every once in a while an agent slips up and scribbles a postscript in his own handwriting. a reproduction of one of no. 's reports to the no. guy appears on the opposite page.) it was not long after jung introduced armstrong to nazi agents that the white russian decided that he could work the racket himself. he began to meet secretly with nazi agents without telling jung about it. their favorite meeting place was at von thenen's tavern, roscoe st., chicago. present at these meetings, usually called by fritz gissibl, head of the "friends of the new germany,"[ ] were armstrong, captain victor dekayville, j.k. leibl (who organized an underground nazi clique in south bend, ind.), oscar pfaus, nick mueller, toni mueller, jose martini, franz schaeffer and gregor buss. when gissibl couldn't attend, his right-hand man leibl acted for him. in march, , armstrong and the others decided to establish a "national alliance" to aid in nazi work. they decided to use the utmost secrecy lest what they were doing and who were behind it, leak out. they met only in private homes and so careful were they that the host of one meeting would not be told where the next meeting was to be held. only a picked handful of the most trusted nazi agents were invited. the first meeting was held at bockhold's home, wave-land ave., chicago; the second at the home of mrs. emma schmid, winthrop ave., chicago. to the second meeting they invited c.o. anderson of diversey parkway, chicago. he was listed by the nazis and the white russians as a good sucker because he had contributed money to jung. [illustration: letter written by secret agent no. (peter afanassieff, _alias_ prince kushubue, _alias_ peter v. armstrong) to no. (harry a. jung).] [illustration: letter showing contact between peter v. armstrong (the white russian ex-convict peter afanassieff) and german publishers of anti-semitic literature.] the white russians and the nazi agents then decided to start a publishing business as the first step to attract followers. they issued a paper called the _gentile front_. they were extremely careful to keep the editorial and publication addresses secret. all mail was sent only to post office box no. in the old chicago post office. the company was named the patriotic publishing co. and with the utmost secrecy editorial offices were established at s. wabash in chicago and the paper printed in the basement at n. kildare where the merrimac press functioned. subsequently, to throw anyone who might be watching them off the trail, they changed the name of the publishing company to the right cause publishing co. and issued an avalanche of nazi propaganda. it was through this secretly organized and secretly functioning propaganda center that harry a. jung, ultra-"patriot," distributed printed attacks on roosevelt just before the presidential election. the _american gentile_, backed by nazi money, published the most insane rantings imaginable. but when one is inclined to dismiss them as insanity, one remembers that it was the same sort of stuff hitler used in winning millions of bewildered germans to his banner. the pre-election issue (october, ) of the _gentile_ will serve as an illustration of what they published and distributed through the united states mails: former congressman louis t. mcfadden[ ] died on october from a stroke. he was sixty years old. the _american gentile_, however, implied that he had been murdered by jews; senator bronson cutting (killed in an airplane crash) also was murdered by jews. huey long was murdered by jews. walter a. liggett, the newspaper editor, was murdered by jews, and it was an international ring of jewish bankers who hired booth to murder abraham lincoln. of course it was crazy, but the coal digger in kentucky or the bedeviled farmer in the middle west who couldn't pay his taxes or the unemployed worker in an industrial center who couldn't find a job did not know history any too well nor understand the workings of the economic system; and when they were told by newspapers brought to them by the united states government mails that their economic difficulties were due to a jewish-communist plot, that roosevelt was a jew and was controlled by jews and communists, some of them were prone to believe it. with this irresponsible propaganda anti-semitism grew. men and women were attracted to the nazi web without dreaming of the forces disseminating the propaganda of the motives behind them. the most capable of those drawn into the nazi propaganda machine were chosen for more serious work. some were used for propaganda; others were given definite espionage assignments. the espionage and propaganda divisions of the nazi machine in this country are separate bodies. they overlap only in serving as a recruiting ground. the smuggling of anti-democratic propaganda off nazi ships entering american ports was exposed by the mccormick congressional committee, but it stopped only for a brief period. the nazi ships which bring in propaganda also bring secret instructions to agents here and take back their reports. to eliminate tell-tale evidence, dr. george gyssling, nazi consul in los angeles, has paid out cash to leaders of the german propaganda machine on the west coast. affidavits to this effect are in my possession. the headquarters for the west coast propaganda machine which dabbles a little in espionage, is the _deutsches haus_, w. th street, los angeles. the building is supposed to be merely a meeting place for german-americans and sympathizers of the hitler regime. actually its functions are far more sinister. the _deutsches haus_, before it was turned into a center of nazi activity, had been a typical los angeles home. when the nazis took it over, they ripped out several of the front rooms and turned it into a barn-like affair with a skylight overhead and a raised platform from which speakers sing the praises of hitler and fascism. in the rear part of the hall is a combined bar and restaurant where the german-americans drink their beer and whiskies and plot the smuggling of propaganda from nazi ships and the carrying on of espionage against american military and naval forces. i use the word "plot" for precisely what it means. from this house, naturalized american citizens and native americans direct espionage and propaganda activities paid for by a foreign government and designed against the peace and security of the united states. the leader of this group, hermann schwinn, was appointed by minister of propaganda goebbels in germany and is the recipient of personal letters of praise from adolf hitler for his work. schwinn is a naturalized citizen,[ ] a comparatively young man in his early thirties, ruddy-faced and with a thin, quivering mustache on his upper lip. this little führer's office is just off the meeting hall and adjoins the small bookstore where the purchaser can get pamphlets, books, and newspapers attacking democracy. when i called upon schwinn at the nazi headquarters and introduced myself, he smiled amiably and granted my request for an interview. the german-american bund, he explained immediately (the reorganized friends of the new germany), is now a patriotic organization, consisting only of american citizens. the german-american bund, schwinn continued as we seated ourselves in his office, was now a "patriotic organization striving to create among americans a better understanding of nazi germany, to combat anti-nazi propaganda and the boycott against germany, and to fight communism." he took about ten minutes to explain their peaceful objectives and their great love for the united states. "everything is america for the americans and to fight all alien theories and interests?" i asked, summing up his explanation. "that's right," he beamed. "does any propaganda come from germany to help save america for the americans?" "no, sir!" he said. "we have nothing to do with germany; we are americans first. mr. dickstein[ ] says that there is propaganda coming, but he was never able to prove any of his statements." "then how does propaganda like _world service_ from erfurt, germany, get into this country?" "oh, i get it," he said casually. "anyone can subscribe to it for a dollar and a half a year. we get two or three copies around here--by subscription, of course." "there must be a lot of subscribers in the united states for i've seen a great many copies. i thought that perhaps it comes in batches from germany for distribution here so members of the nazi groups in the united states could use it to help save america for the americans." "no," he smiled. "it's all a subscription matter." "i see. do you know captain george trauernicht?" schwinn shot a startled glance at me and nodded slowly. "yes," he said, "he's captain of the hapag line ship 'oakland.'" "do you ever visit him?" "yes; he was here last week." "doesn't he bring batches of _world service_ and other propaganda for you every time he comes into port?" "no," schwinn said sharply. "the visits i pay him are purely social. just to drink a glass of good german beer." "do you usually pay social visits carrying a brief case?" "now, wait a minute," he protested. "don't write down the answer until i think." i stopped typing on his office machine which he had permitted me to use to take verbatim notes of the interview and waited while he thought. after a lengthy silence i added: "you had a brief case on thursday when you visited him." he continued thinking for a little longer and then said that he thought he had had a brief case on that trip. "but why do you ask me that?" he demanded. "there was nothing in that brief case." "sure there was. the brief case always contains reports you send back to germany and instructions from germany are brought to you by captain trauernicht as well as other captains of german ships docking here and in san diego." "i have never taken off propaganda nor given nor received reports," schwinn insisted. "somebody told you something and you've got it all wrong." "suppose i mention a few instances. at four o'clock on monday afternoon, march , , your beer-drinking friend, captain trauernicht, waited for you at the gangplank of his boat--for your 'social' visit. what he wanted was the package of sealed reports from nazi agents throughout the united states which you were bringing in your brief case. in due time you arrived and gave him the reports. then you started on a drinking spree--" "i don't know what you're talking about," schwinn interrupted. "maybe i can refresh your memory. that was the evening the captain took a lady from beverly hills, to the first mate's cabin--remember? you know, the lady who lives on north crescent drive--shall i mention her name?" schwinn's face turned an apoplectic red and he became quiet. "on monday, february , ," i continued. "reinhold kusche, leader of the o.d. unit in your organization and a 'patriotic' naturalized american citizen, was on board the steamer 'elbe' docked in los angeles harbor. he telephoned to one of your nazi agents, albert voigt, that the captain was sailing at five o'clock for antwerp and was furious because the agents' reports had not yet been delivered to him. kusche told voigt to bring the reports in a hurry--which voigt promptly did. "on tuesday evening, may , , the captain of the nazi ship 'schwaben', which had just arrived from antwerp, belgium, came to your office and handed you a sealed package of orders and propaganda. he laid it on your desk in this room. the package contained copies of _world service_--which is obtainable, you remember, only by subscription at a dollar and a half a year." "it is not true--" schwinn interrupted excitedly. "i have a copy from the batch he brought to you. but let's continue. on monday, june , , you yourself went to the nazi ship 'weser' and gave the captain secret reports to take back to germany and left with secret orders he had brought over--orders sealed in brown, manila paper[ ]--and a large package of _fichte-bund_ propaganda. i have a copy from that batch, too." schwinn stared at me and then smiled. "you can't prove anything," he said with assurance. "i have affidavits about all these items and more--affidavits from men on board the nazi ships." "it's impossible!" he exclaimed. "no german on the ship would dare to sign an affidavit!" "but i have them," i repeated. "you intend to publish them?" he asked, a cunning look appearing in his eyes. his eagerness to discover who had given me affidavits was funny and i laughed. "i'll publish the information contained in them," i explained. "the names of the signers will be given only to an american governmental or judicial body which may look into your 'patriotic' activities. but let's get on. do you know the nazi consul in los angeles--dr. george gyssling?" he sat silently for a moment as if hesitating whether to speak. "don't be afraid to talk," i said. "the consul isn't. you know, of course, that he does not like you?" a deep red flush suffused his face. "it's mutual!" he said. "i know he talks--" throughout the interview schwinn tried almost pathetically, despite his obvious dislike of gyssling, to cover up the consul's interference in american affairs. when i told schwinn i had affidavits showing that rafael demmler, president of the steuben society of los angeles, got two hundred dollars in april, , from the nazi consul to help maintain the _deutsches haus_ as a center of nazi propaganda, he shook his head bewilderedly; and when i pointed out that he himself got one hundred and forty-five dollars in cash from the nazi consul on tuesday, april , , to cover expenses incurred by schwinn in the effort to bring the german-american groups together for the better dissemination of nazi propaganda, his face turned alternately white and red and finally he exploded: "did gyssling tell you that?" "i'm not saying who told it to me. but let's get on with some of your other 'patriotic' activities. on thursday, june , , you visited captain trauernicht in company with count von bülow--" for the first time since the interview began schwinn sat upright in his chair as if i had struck him. all the other subjects had left him slightly disturbed but still with an obvious sense that he was not on particularly dangerous ground. but at the mention of von bülow's name a look of actual fear spread over his face. "on that day," i continued, "you and the count went directly to the captain's cabin where you handed over your reports--" "what are you getting at?" schwinn demanded sharply. "i'm getting at the count. what do you know about him?" "nothing. i know nothing about him. i've met him, that's all." "have you ever visited his home at point loma,[ ] san diego?" schwinn stared at me without answering. "have you ever been there?" i repeated. "yes," he said slowly. "did you ever observe how, through his study windows, you could see almost everything going on at the american naval base--" "i have nothing to say," schwinn interrupted excitedly. among the men sent here directly by rudolf hess, hitler's right-hand man, is a former german-american businessman named meyerhofer. this nazi came here with special instructions from hess, a personal friend of his, to reorganize the nazi machine in the united states. he arrived early in posing as a businessman. after consultations with nazi leaders in new york, including the nazi consul general, he went to detroit to confer with fritz kuhn,[ ] national head of the german-american bund. from detroit he went to chicago where he held more conferences with nazi agents and then went directly to los angeles for conferences with schwinn, von bülow and other secret agents operating in the united states. meyerhofer's mission was not only to reorganize the propaganda machine but to try to place it on a self-supporting basis so that in the event of war when funds from germany would be cut off, an efficient nazi machine could continue functioning. it was with this knowledge in mind that i asked schwinn what he knew about meyerhofer. at the mention of his name the nazi leader for the west coast again showed a flash of fear. he hesitated a little longer than usual and then said in a low voice, "he is a member of our organization. he came from germany about thirty or forty years ago." suddenly he added, "he's an american citizen." "i know he's an american citizen. but are you sure he didn't come from germany--on his latest trip--in january of last year?" schwinn smiled a little wryly. "he might have," he said in the same low tone. "he's a personal friend of rudolf hess--" "listen!" schwinn exclaimed. "you're on the wrong track!" "maybe; but what's his business here?" "he's a businessman!" "what's his business?" schwinn shrugged his shoulders. "i don't know," he said and then with growing excitement, "i tell you you're on the wrong track!" "then what are you so excited about?" "because you're on the wrong track--" "okay. i'm on the wrong track and you know nothing about nazi spies. do you know of the visits paid by the japanese consul in los angeles to nazi ships when they come into port and of his conferences with nazi captains--" "the japanese! we have nothing to do with the japanese. we are a patriotic group--" "yes, i know. what do you know about schneeberger?" schwinn answered with an "m-m-m-m." his jaw bones showed against the ruddy flesh of his cheeks. he stared up at the ceiling. "he was a tyrolian peasant boy," he said without looking at me. "a boy traveling around the world; you know, just chiseling his way around--" "just a bum, eh?" "that's it," he agreed quickly. "just a bum." "what would your connections be with bums? do you usually associate with tyrolian bums who are chiseling their way around the world?" "oh, he just came here like so many other people. he wanted money; so i gave him a little help and he went to san francisco and oakland. he vanished. i haven't any idea where he might be now. maybe he's in chicago now." "he couldn't possibly be in japan now, could he?" "he spoke of going to japan," schwinn admitted. "you saw him off on a japanese training ship which the japanese government sent here from the canal zone, didn't you?" "i don't know," he said defiantly. "i know nothing about him." "the treaty between japan and germany providing for exchange of information about communists was signed november , . but in september, , schneeberger told you he was leaving on a japanese training ship for japan. no training ship was expected on the west coast at that time by the united states port authorities, and yet a japanese training ship appeared--ordered here from the canal zone. it was on this ship that schneeberger left. apparently, then, the nazis and the japanese had already been working together--and you were cooperating because you took schneeberger around. you took him to count von bülow's home at point loma, overlooking the american naval base. you know that schneeberger was not broke because he was spending money freely--" "he was broke," schwinn interrupted weakly. "if he was so broke, how do you account for his carrying around an expensive camera and always having plenty of film with which to photograph american naval and military spots?" "i don't know. maybe he carried the camera around to hock in case he went broke." the absurdity of the excuse was so patent that i laughed. schwinn smiled a little. "all right. what do you know about a man named maeder?" again that long, drawn-out "m-m-m-m." a long pause and schwinn said, "maeder is an american citizen, i believe." "yes; you are, too. but what's his business in this country?" "i don't know," schwinn said helplessly. "i really don't know." "you know nothing about his activities or observations of american naval and military bases? do you usually take in members without knowing anything about them?" "sometimes we do and sometimes we do not--" "but orders were sent from germany to make this an american organization--" schwinn nodded without admitting it verbally. "and since you throw out all germans who are not american citizens, you check with the consul general in new york as to whether they are fit--" "we have nothing to do with the consul general--" "what happened to willi sachse who used to be a member here?" "he is supposed to have gone back to germany." "have you heard from him from germany?" "no; i haven't heard since he left." "you received a letter recently from him from san francisco where he is watching foreign vessels--" "oh," said schwinn, raising his hands in a helpless gesture, "i know you have spies in my organization." we talked a little longer--of visits he made to nazi agents in the middle west and in new york, of secret conferences with propagandists and spies. but he refused to do any more than shrug his shoulders at all new questions. "i have said too much already," he said. footnotes: [ ] gissibl left for stuttgart, germany, and leadership was taken over by his brother, peter. [ ] before mcfadden died, i published evidence that while he was a member of congress he worked with nazi agents in this country. [ ] as this book went to press, the u.s. government had just begun action to revoke schwinn's citizenship, claiming that he had obtained it by making false statements. [ ] congressman samuel dickstein. the mccormick congressional committee was frequently referred to as the "dickstein committee" because dickstein had introduced the resolution for the investigation. [ ] during the trial of the four nazi spies in new york the federal prosecutor brought out that they also carried orders sealed in brown, manila paper. [ ] von bülow has since sold his home and moved into the el cortez hotel in san diego. [ ] at that time working for henry ford. viii _henry ford and secret nazi activities_ one of the chief nazi propagandists in the united states recently ran in the united states senate primaries in kansas and was almost nominated. he is gerald b. winrod, who poses as a protestant minister but has no affiliations with any reputable church. winrod, even before he tried to get into the senate, was one of the most brazen of the nazis' fifth column operating in this country. he has held secret consultations with officials in the german embassy in washington and carries on his propaganda under fritz kuhn's direction. shortly after winrod returned from a mysterious trip to germany and held an equally mysterious long consultation at the nazi embassy in this country ( ), he organized the _capitol news and feature service_, with offices at kellogg building, washington. the "news service" supplied smaller papers throughout the land with "impartial comments" on the national scene. the _service_ was edited by dan gilbert, a san diego newspaperman, and the material was sent free of charge (as is the material sent to the latin american countries from germany and italy). it was of course, deliberately calculated to spread pro-hitler sentiment and propaganda. few who read winrod's publications realize the extent of his activities. on march , , senator joseph t. robinson addressed the united states senate on what appeared to him to be "unfair propaganda" carried on by winrod against president roosevelt's proposed reorganization of the judiciary system. the senator stated that he could not understand why the issues should be deliberately falsified by a gentleman of the cloth--that it reminded him of the old ku klux klan tactics. the senator did not know that winrod's propaganda against roosevelt was only part of a propaganda campaign cunningly and brazenly organized by nazis in this country in an effort to defeat a man who, they felt, was not friendly to them. in this campaign, nazi agents worked openly and secretly with a few unscrupulous members of the republican party in an effort to defeat roosevelt. several years ago winrod was a poverty-stricken man living at n. green street, wichita, kansas. he called himself a minister but all church bodies have repudiated him. without a church, he did a little evangelistic preaching and lived off collections made from his audience. it was a precarious livelihood and often the "reverend" did not have enough money to buy even ordinary necessities. records in several wichita department stores tell the story of the evangelist's poverty before an angel came to visit him. all the storekeepers with whom winrod dealt requested that their names be withheld, but signified their willingness to present their records to any governmental body which might be interested in the sudden wealth he acquired after he became an intense hitler propagandist. in the days of his poverty winrod, the records show, could afford to buy only the cheapest furniture, the cheapest clothes, and pay for them on the installment plan in weekly payments ranging from fifty cents to two or three dollars a week. i am reproducing with this chapter several of the installment cards. the reader will notice that as late as winrod was paying at the rate of one dollar a week. it was in this period that nazi agents in the united states were carrying on their intensive campaign, and it was also in this period that winrod began to harangue his audiences about the "menace of the jews and the catholics." [illustration: account cards for the reverend gerald b. winrod in a wichita department store, showing his straitened financial circumstances during the early thirties.] then one day, the reverend gerald b. winrod suddenly found himself possessed of enough money to go to germany. when he came back in february, , he had new suit cases, new clothes and a fat check book. the records in the wichita department stores where he had been getting credit for clothes and furniture show that after his return from germany he paid all his debts in lump sums--by check. then he became a publisher. in his newspaper, _the revealer_, he published a report on his trip to europe, but did not mention where he got the money for the jaunt. the report (february , ) told of his discovery that the german people loved hitler and that only "jewish influence in high circles of certain governments is making it impossible for germany to carry on normal trade and financial relations with other countries." in this period of his new-found prosperity he established contacts with nazi agents and pro-fascists like harry a. jung of the american vigilant intelligence federation, colonel edwin emerson, james true and a host of other patrioteers. before the presidential election he made another trip to germany. when he returned, he enlarged his distribution apparatus and was apparently important enough for high nazi officials visiting the united states to meet with him. one of these was hans von reitenkranz, who came quietly to the united states as hitler's personal representative to arrange for oil purchases--oil which germany needed badly for her factories and especially for her growing war machine. von reitenkranz is a friend of professor kurt sepmeier of the university of wichita. he introduced winrod to the professor. they became friendly. when i was in wichita making inquiries about the reverend winrod, i constantly came across the professor's trail. both he and winrod had been meeting regularly but with an effort at secrecy. in january, , after several meetings with professor sepmeier, winrod went to washington. i also went to washington and found that the reverend was calling at the german embassy. on one of his visits he remained inside for an hour and eighteen minutes. whom he saw or what he discussed i do not know; but immediately after this long visit, the _news and feature service_ was organized with money enough to send its items out free of charge to the papers that would accept them. gilbert, who headed the _service_, was for many years the personal representative of william dudley pelley, leader of the silver shirts. the nazis had been trying to get the silver shirts to cooperate with them in a fascist "united front" and the appointment of gilbert was the first indication that a friendly cooperation had been established. [illustration: sample of the "capital news and feature service," in the establishment and distribution of which the reverend gerald b. winrod had a hand.] winrod had been in constant communication with pelley, and pelley had conferred several times with schwinn. the nazis were eager to get a native american body into the organization so they would have an american "front." gilbert opened offices in washington and, fearful lest their location become known, rented post office box no. , ben franklin station, for use as a mailing address. after the first issue had been sent out, winrod and his agents canvassed prominent industrialists for donations to support the "news service" on the grounds that it was furthering religious activities and fighting communism. the money collected was actually used to carry on anti-democratic propaganda. a number of industrialists contributed. i have a list of them, but since there is no conclusive evidence that they knew the money was being spent by nazi agents, i shall not publish the names. i mention it merely as an illustration of how wealthy men are victimized by racketeers with pleas of "patriotism" and "public service." harry a. jung did the same thing by getting money from rich jews "to fight communism" and from rich gentiles "to fight the menace of the jew." [illustration: letter from a small-town newspaper showing the kind of confusion caused by the "capitol news and feature service."] with the first issue of the _capitol news and feature service_, the following announcement was mailed to the editors of rural weeklies: "good morning, mr. editor! _capitol news and feature service_ herewith delivers three priceless articles, fresh from the nation's capitol. use them without cost. you will hear from us each week. watch for these interesting articles." an examination of the "priceless articles" showed that they were designed primarily to attack american democracy. since his return from germany and his conferences at the nazi embassy, winrod has made frequent trips into mexico where he has met with mexican fascists--especially with leaders of the mexican gold shirts which were organized by hermann schwinn. again we discover the tie-up between fascist organizations in the united states and those to the south of us. when the nazis reorganized their propaganda machine several years ago and established smuggling headquarters on the west coast, propaganda taken off nazi ships docking in san diego and los angeles included material printed in spanish for the special use of general nicholás rodriguez, head of the gold shirts. the spanish as well as the english material was taken to the _deutsches haus_ in los angeles and turned over to schwinn, who forwarded the batches to rodriguez. the contact man between schwinn and the head of the fascist movement in mexico is a native american named henry douglas allen of san diego. allen, under the pretext of being a mining engineer and interested in prospecting in mexico, went repeatedly into the neighboring country with the smuggled propaganda and delivered it to rodriguez' agents. since native americans, especially if they say they wish to prospect, can travel across the international boundary into mexico as often as they please without arousing suspicion, allen was chosen as the liaison man between nazi agents in the united states and rodriguez. as i said earlier, the nazis tried from the beginning to get an american "front" and to draw as many americans into it as possible--obviously strategic preparation for future work more serious than mere propaganda. hence allen was instructed to become active in the silver shirt movement. he organized down town post no. - and established silver shirt recruiting headquarters in room at south grand ave., los angeles. in august, , when a lot of nazi and anti-roosevelt money was being shelled out in efforts to defeat roosevelt, allen became extremely active. while pelley was out of town, he was instructed to work with kenneth alexander, pelley's right-hand man. alexander was formerly a still-photographer at united artists studios. the two opened offices in the broadway arcade building and on october , , moved to the lankersheim building at third street near spring, los angeles. rodriguez, after he was given assurances of nazi aid, worked not only with nazi agents in this country but also with julio brunet, manager of the ford factory in mexico city. the earliest documentary record i have of their tie-up is a letter rodriguez wrote to ford's manager on september , , on gold shirt stationery. the letter merely asks brunet to give jobs to two "worthy young men" and is written in a manner that shows rodriguez and brunet are rather close. by february , , rodriguez and the ford executive in mexico had become sufficiently intimate for the fascist leader to express his appreciation of brunet's placing gold shirts in the plant. his letter addressed to the manager of the ford company follows: we have been informed by our delegate, senora n.m. colunga, that she was very well treated by you and that in addition you informed her that our request for work for some of our comrades who needed it has also been heard. not doubting but that this will be fulfilled, a.r.m. [the gold shirts] sends you the most expressive thanks for having seen in you the recognition of one of the greatest obligations of humanity to mexicanism. on november , , shortly before the gold shirts felt they were powerful enough to attempt the overthrow of the mexican government and the establishment of a fascist dictatorship, rodriguez wrote to the manager of the ford plant, asking for the two ambulances which had been promised the fascists by the ford manager. rodriguez had organized his attempted putsch carefully, with a women's ambulance corps to care for the wounded in the expected fighting. the letter, again translated almost literally, follows: sr. manager of the ford company nov. , . city highly esteemed señor: this will be delivered to you personally by sr. general juan alvarez c., who comes with the object of ascertaining if that company would be able to supply two ambulances which they had already offered, for the transportation of the women's sanitary brigade on the th day of this month at a.m. thanking you in advance for the references, i am happy to repeat that i am at your command. affectionately and attentively, s.s. nicholÁs rodriguez c. supreme commander. [illustration: letter from general nicholás rodriguez, mexican fascist leader, to the ford manager in mexico city, soliciting employment for two protégés.] in the street fighting that followed the attempted fascist putsch a number were killed and wounded. it was after this fight that rodriguez was exiled. i am reproducing some of these letters from carbon copies, initialed by rodriguez, which were in his files. why he initials carbon copies i don't know, but i have a stack of his correspondence with nazi agents and almost all of his carbons are initialed. on october , , allen wrote to the exiled fascist leader. ostensibly the letter invited him to address the silver shirts. actually it was for a special conference about "matters of vital importance to us both." this letter was written when schwinn was holding conferences with pelley to merge forces in a fascist united front, and when schneeberger was preparing to leave for japan on a training ship ordered up from the canal zone by the japanese to take him on board. the letter follows: dear general rodriguez: upon receipt of this letter will you kindly communicate with me and advise me whether it would be possible for you to come to los angeles in the near future to make an address to our organization here. we shall be glad to defray all expenses which will include airplane both ways if you desire it. we shall also offer you bodyguard for your protection if you deem it necessary. your fight is our fight and it is our desire to have you come to los angeles especially to confer with us relative to matters of vital importance to us both. i would suggest that if you can arrange to come, you telegraph me (charges collect) upon receipt of this letter so that i may make arrangements without delay. fraternally yours, henry allen. when i went to mexico to look into nazi activities, i gave a copy of this letter to the minister of the interior. at that time allen was again in mexico under the pretense of looking into his mining interests, but a check showed that he had actually gone there to confer secretly with a mexican army man, general iturbe. at my request the mexican government looked into allen's movements and learned that he had entered guaymas, center of japanese activities, with kenneth alexander, pelley's chief aid. the connection between ford's mexican manager and general rodriguez might be considered an unfortunate incident for which ford could not be held responsible. this would be a reasonable assumption if the nazi-rodriguez-ford tie-up in mexico were an isolated case. the facts, however, show it is not. [illustration: letter from general rodriguez to the ford manager in mexico city. the translation is given on page .] the national leader of the nazi propaganda machine in this country has been on the ford pay roll. kuhn was supposed to work for ford as a chemist, but while on ford's pay roll he traveled around the united states conferring with other secret nazi agents and actively directing nazi work in this country. ford has a highly developed and exceedingly efficient espionage system of his own which, among other things, watches what his employees do--even to their home life. kuhn's activities were known to harry bennett, head of the ford secret service or "personnel department," as it is called, and bennett reports to ford. furthermore, kuhn's nazi connections had been publicized in both the american and the nazi press and were no secret. jews and christians alike protested to ford about his employee's anti-democratic work while on the motor magnate's pay roll, but kuhn was left undisturbed to travel around organizing nazi groups. in ford was given the highest medal of honor which hitler can give to a foreigner. no statement was ever made as to just what henry ford had done for the nazi führer to merit the honor. simultaneously with kuhn's intensified work, ford's confidential secretary, william j. cameron, became active again. cameron was editor of ford's _dearborn independent_ when that newspaper published the "protocols of the elders of zion" after they had been proved to be forgeries. when a nation-wide protest arose from jews and christians who were shocked at seeing one of the richest and most powerful men in the country use his wealth to disseminate race hatred, and when the protest grew into a boycott of his cars, ford apologized and discontinued the newspaper. but instead of easing his editor out or giving him some other job, he made him his confidential secretary. [illustration: letter from henry allen to general rodriguez, showing the tie-up between american and mexican fascist organizations.] when kuhn went to work for ford, the national headquarters of the nazi propaganda machine was moved to detroit, and the anti-democratic activities increased in intensity. employing nazi anti-semitism as the bait to attract dissatisfied and bewildered elements in the population, a new organization made its appearance: the anglo-saxon federation, headed by ford's private secretary. headquarters were established in the mccormick building in chicago, room , at s. michigan ave. and in the fox building in detroit. in july, , cameron, obviously because ford was violently anti-roosevelt, stepped out as head of the organization and became its director of publications. when winrod was raising money from american industrialists to support the _capitol news and feature service_, cameron was among the contributors. the anglo-saxon federation began to distribute the "protocols" again. i bought a copy in the detroit offices of the organization, stamped with the name of the organization. the introduction quotes ford as approving of them. it states: mr. henry ford, in an interview published in the _new york world_. february , , put the case for nilus[ ] tersely and convincingly thus: "the only statement i care to make about the 'protocols' is that they fit in with what is going on. they are sixteen years old, and they have fitted the world situation up to this time. they fit it now." when ford was on the witness stand in a libel suit some fifteen years ago and admitted his ignorance of matters with which even grammar school children are familiar, the country laughed. his ignorance, however, is his own affair, but when he takes no step to curb his personal representative from working with secret foreign agents to undermine a friendly government, it becomes a matter, it appears to me, of importance to the people of this country and the government of the united states. [illustration: left: american-made anti-semitic sticker of a type appearing with increasing frequency in recent times. right: title-page of the german edition of "the international jew," by henry ford, of which , copies have been distributed.] footnotes: [ ] the man who forged the "protocols" originally and who subsequently confessed to having done so. ix _nazi agents in american universities_ the universities are too important a training ground for nazi agents to ignore. a few professors in some of our universities have joined the growing list of anti-democratic propagandists. some of them are german subjects and do not disguise their pro-nazi bias; others carry on their propaganda as a "scholarly analysis" of the hitler regime--with a fervor, however, that smacks of the paid propagandist. german exchange students, too, studying at some of our universities, are active in various efforts to draw native americans within the sphere of nazi influence. some of these students came here ostensibly to study for degrees, but devote most of their time to spreading nazi ideology and meeting with secret nazi agents and military spies. such was prince von lippe of the university of southern california. von lippe is not an american citizen as so many of the agents are. with no visible means of support, he received expenses from a total stranger--oddly enough, count von bülow whose home overlooked the naval base in san diego and who was constantly in conferences with nazi agents. it was to count von bülow, you recall, that hermann schwinn brought schneeberger as soon as he arrived on his way to japan, and von bülow took him around while schneeberger photographed areas in the military and naval zone. a number of very secret conferences were held while schneeberger was on the west coast, in the home of dr. k. burchardi, a los angeles physician who visits nazi ships with schwinn and von bülow (on one occasion schneeberger summoned burchardi to come with him to a nazi ship which had just docked in los angeles--and the physician dropped his work and went). german exchange students, when they enter this country, are under instructions to report to the german-american bund. on july , , three exchange students--a young lady and two young men--entered los angeles while on a motor tour of the country. they were students at georgia tech. in los angeles they went directly to the _deutsches haus_ and presented a letter of introduction to hermann schwinn who assigned them quarters at the home of max edgan, one of schwinn's lieutenants. the students then made a detailed report to schwinn on the political work they were carrying out at georgia tech. but the professors are the chief hope of nazi agents attempting to spread the idea of totalitarian government and a bit of race hatred as the bait to attract some elements in the population. some of the professors and some of their activities follow briefly: professor frederick e. auhagen, formerly of the german department, seth low junior college, columbia university. dr. auhagen came to this country in and worked as a mining engineer in pennsylvania. from to he was with the foreign department of the equitable trust co.; then became connected with columbia university in . he is not an american citizen and constantly refers to germany as "my native country." this professor is one of the leading academic apologists for herr hitler in the united states. besides carrying on his pro-nazi propaganda in the classroom, he does a great deal of lecturing, sometimes appearing before the foreign policy association. on one occasion, in an address before the men's club of the baptist church at rockville, long island, he stated that seth low junior college was opened "in order to keep hebrew faces off the campus at columbia university." auhagen never tried to hide his sympathies with nazism. preceding a debate on february , , before the city club of cleveland, he gave press interviews as a nazi, and in the debate upheld hitler as the savior of germany and world civilization. with a fervor far removed from professorial calm, he explained that american newspaper dispatches about the treatment of jews and catholics in germany were exaggerated. "as to criticism of germany's treatment of catholics," he said again in denver, colorado on july , , "that is not true!" professor frederick k. krueger, of wittenberg college, with whom auhagen is rather closely identified in arranging and giving talks about nazis and totalitarian government, at every opportunity issues press interviews along the same line. in them he explains that the anti-nazi sentiment in the united states press does not represent the editors, but is dictated by jews who "control the press, the motion pictures and other organs of public opinion." because of the high scientific standing of professor vladimir karapetoff of the cornell engineering faculty, he is listened to with more attention and respect than are the more blatant propagandists for the adoption of fascist tactics and principles. shortly after hitler took power, the professor started to do his share on the campus. at first he did it subtly, but when this made little headway he began to talk of the "growing domination of jews in american life, politically as well as economically" and emphasized that the large number of jews in the law school and on the campus generally was becoming a problem. "it's the smooth-faced jew whom we must fear," he kept repeating, "and not the long-bearded jewish rabbi." not content with expressing personal opinions, he took to organizing groups, addressing them on the subject of the jew; and on one occasion he called a special meeting of the officer's club with the proviso that jews be excluded. paul f. douglas,[ ] teacher of german, economics and political science at green mountain college, wrote a book, _god among the germans_, which purports to be an introduction to the mind and method of nazism. i have information coming from a reputable source that dr. douglas was paid by the nazi government to write the book. this source is unwilling to let his name be used, but is ready to testify and lay his information before any governmental body which will investigate the devious methods of nazi agents in this country. there are at various universities throughout the country other professors and instructors quite active in spreading pro-hitler propaganda. some of them meet with nazi agents closely allied to the espionage machine. i offer only these few as illustrations of nazi efforts to get footholds in the american universities. along with efforts to carry on their work in the universities, nazi agents tried to get a foothold in the political life of the country by finding a few republicans who were willing to use anti-democratic propaganda in their efforts to defeat roosevelt during the presidential campaign. at no time in american history did secret agents of a foreign power so brazenly attempt to interfere in the internal affairs of the american people. nor at any time in american history did agents of a foreign government find such willing cooperation from unscrupulous american politicians. among those who worked with hitler agents was newton jenkins, director of the coughlin-lemke third party.[ ] the detroit priest and the congressman were fully aware, preceding and during the campaign, that jenkins supported hitler and was a jew-baiter of the first order. they were aware of this while they were appealing for jewish votes. the radio priest and the congressman kept in constant touch with their campaign manager and knew what sort of government jenkins wanted. jenkins' association with nazis dates to the days preceding the launching of the presidential campaign. at that time he participated in a secret conference held in chicago with the object of uniting the scattered fascist forces in the united states to form a powerful fascist united front. among those who attended were walter kappe, fritz gissibl and zahn--three active hitler agents assigned to the mid-west area; william dudley pelley, leader of the silver shirts; harry a. jung, the ultra-"patriot"; george w. christians of chattanooga, tenn., head of the american fascists; and several others. the conference ended with an agreement to support a third-party movement directed by jenkins. throughout the campaign jenkins stressed an exaggerated nationalism, advocated "party patrols" similar to hitler's storm troops and adopted the nazi jew-baiting tactics. his first public appearance with the nazis was on october , , at a meeting held in lincoln turner hall, diversey building, chicago. uniformed storm troopers with the swastika on their arm bands patrolled the room. in the course of his talk he said: the trouble with this country now is due to the money powers and jewish politicians who control our government. the federal treasury is being controlled by a jew, morgenthau, and a jew, eugene meyer. the state, county and our own municipal government is being controlled by jewish politicians. our own mayor signs what the jews want him to sign. nearly in every department of our country and local government you will find a jew at the head of it. not only under a democratic administration but also under a republican administration we will find the same conditions.... the american people must free itself from the money plunderers who have thrown this country into the world war and also a possibility of dragging them into the present war for private gain and shake off their shoulders the jewish politicians. the third party promises to do both. this is precisely the sort of stuff paid nazi agents in the propaganda division are ordered to disseminate, and this is the man father coughlin and congressman lemke picked to direct their campaign. it was a nazi agent, ernst goerner of milwaukee, who spread the story, aided by anti-roosevelt forces, that frances perkins, secretary of labor, was a jewess. the story received such wide publicity that she had to issue a public statement giving her birth and marriage records. goerner is one of the important nazi agents in the mid-west. he's a bit eccentric and the nazis sometimes have difficulty keeping him in line, but when schwinn made a trip east shortly before the election campaign, he stopped off specially to see goerner who thereupon sent a flood of propaganda throughout the country about secretary perkins' ancestry as well as charges that roosevelt and almost all government officials were jews. it was after schwinn's trip to the east that other disseminators of anti-democratic propaganda, like robert edward edmondson and james true, came to life in a big way. one of the penniless men who suddenly blossomed into the money after schwinn's trip east was olov e. tietzow, who used post office box no. in chicago lest the fact that he lived at aldine ave. be discovered. up until a few months before the campaign tietzow was an unemployed electrical engineer who had difficulty paying the three-dollar weekly rent for his hall bed-room at the aldine ave. address. after schwinn's visit and meeting with him, tietzow began to commute by air between chicago and buffalo where he opened a branch office. tietzow was tested out a little at first. he was put to work in the offices of the friends of the new germany on western ave. and roscoe st., chicago. in his spare time he worked out of foster ave., chicago. a quotation or two from some of his letters will give an indication of his activities. on february , , he wrote to william stern, fargo, n.d., a member of the republican national committee. he said in part: information about the so-called fascist movement here in the u.s.a. will be furnished by me if you so desire, together with other data you might be interested in. an opportunity to discuss our national problems and to lay before patriotic persons of means and influence and before national organizations my plans for a nationwide movement would be welcome.... this letter to a high republican party official was written after tietzow had outlined the contents to toni mueller, nazi agent in chicago reporting directly to fritz kuhn. since most of the patrioteers were opposed to the new deal and since some of them were already working with nazi agents in this country, it was not long before they were going full blast in their "save america" racket. the people of the united states, though they don't talk much about it, are thoroughly patriotic in the fullest sense of the word. to accuse anyone of not being a patriot is almost worse than telling a man that he is a son of not quite a lady. the racketeers in patriotism long ago discovered that people would contribute to a "patriotic cause" if only to escape the reputation of being unpatriotic; and the racketeers have made a nice living out of it. for some of the patrioteers it has become a thriving business, with everybody involved--except the suckers--getting his cut. some of the big "patriotic" organizations are really influential, and the small ones are hopefully struggling along in the expectation of bigger and better and more patriotic days when the pickings will be more than attractive. [illustration: letter by olov e. tietzow, showing typical methods of american fascists.] every time i start looking into organizations with high-sounding and impressive names, i am profoundly impressed with the accuracy of barnum's noted observation. raise the cry of "patriotism" and perfectly good americans forget to try to find out just what the "patriotic" activities are, and shell out without a murmur. industrialists particularly like the "americanism" of the patriotic groups because almost all of them incorporate an anti-labor policy. the propaganda, of course, is rarely conducted as an open fight against labor, but is put across as a fight to save america from the communists. some of the racketeering patriotic organizations with a more or less devout following include the national republican publishing company, washington, d.c., the american vigilant intelligence federation, chicago, ill., the paul reveres, chicago, ill., the industrial defense association, boston, mass., the american nationalists, inc., new york, n.y. and the american nationalist party, los angeles, calif. there are a number of others, but these are some of the most blatant. the national republican company, th street, n.w., washington, d.c., is one of the most influential. it publishes the _national republic_, a journal accepted by men high in public office and by leading industrialists as earnestly trying to inculcate "americanism" into americans. the _national republic_ has an amazing list of endorsers--governors, mayors, senators, congressmen and nationally-known industrialists. the magazine is virtually the entire organization and is dedicated "to defending american ideals and institutions." it is headed by walter s. steele, who was tied up with harry a. jung of the american vigilant intelligence federation before he went into business for himself. while steele was working with the ace of racketeers in patriotism, the president-editor of the _national republic_ also eked out a few pennies by distributing the "protocols of the elders of zion." today, however, he confines himself chiefly to fighting communism, spreading race hatred only when it is paid for in advertisements. books distributed by nazi propagandists in furthering their anti-democratic campaign--such books as _t.n.t._ by colonel edwin hadley and _the conflict of the ages_ find space in the _national republic's_ pages. colonel hadley headed the paul reveres which tried to organize fascist groups on american university campuses, and _the conflict of the ages_ devotes a full chapter to the nazi "proofs" of the authenticity of the "protocols." i mention these to show the type of stuff steele is willing to disseminate--if he is paid for it. and by permitting the use of their names, the sponsors, consciously or unconsciously, aid him in his anti-american activities. the detailed aims of the _national republic_ are to provide a "weekly service to twenty-three hundred editors, to defend american institutions against subversive radicalism; a national information service on subversive organizations and activities; an americanization bureau serving schools, colleges and patriotic groups; conducted for the public good from washington, d.c., by nationally known leaders." the procedure of conducting the organization "for the public good" includes high-pressuring the shekels from the suckers. steele, a former newspaperman, learned from his association with that other arch-patriot, jung. so when steele established his own racket, he found one of his early aids in former senator robinson of indiana. robinson was closely tied up with the ku klux klan. through robinson and through other politicians reached with the cry "save america," he got a long list of prominent sponsors and gradually increased it until now it reads like a _who's who_ of reactionary industrialists and innocent politicians. with letters of introduction from senator robinson, steele's high pressure gang set out to collect in the name of patriotism. the procedure was simple. salesmen presented their letters of introduction to the mayor of a city. the mayor was impressed with the high "patriotic" motives and especially with the imposing list of names sponsoring the efforts. the mayor introduced the high-pressure fellows to other people--and the milking began. let me illustrate a little more specifically: on march , , steele sent two of his ablest dollar-pullers, messrs. fahr and hamilton, into the oklahoma oil fields where the industrialists would like to see a minimum of per cent americanism instilled in the public mind. messrs. fahr and hamilton had letters of introduction to mayor t.a. penny of tulsa, okla. when the salesmen approached the mayor, they had not only the long and imposing list of names on the letterhead but additional letters of introduction from ex-governor curley of mass., ex-senator robinson of indiana and congressman martin dies of texas. the drummers wanted the mayor to introduce them to the chairman of the tulsa board of education who could help them get funds in tulsa and elsewhere. the funds were to be used to place the "patriotic" magazine in the public school system in order "to preserve this country against subversive activities, particularly communism." it was a neat circulation-getting stunt, performed without fahr and hamilton telling what percentage of the take they got. the mayor gave the letters of introduction. with these letters and the excellent contacts thus established, they started down the sucker list from w.g. skelly, head of the skelly oil co., tulsa to waite phillips of the phillips petroleum co. like his former colleague harry a. jung, steele works on the big industrialists by whispering confidentially that he has sources of information about which he can't talk much but which make it possible for him to keep the industrialists informed about "subversive radicals." for a reasonable price and perhaps a contribution to a worthy cause, steele would supply the industrialist with "confidential information for members only" which would keep him up to date about the radicals threatening america. the "confidential information" must not be shown to anybody else. extreme caution is necessary lest the radicals find out about the "information service." with all this hocum, secrecy and whispering, the industrialist becomes a member at so much per not realizing that the information thus peddled can be got for three cents a day--five cents on sundays--by buying the _daily worker_. it's just one of the little patriotic rackets the boys have cooked up. working closely with steele is james a. true of the james true associates, another precious racketeer who stepped from patrioteering into efforts to organize in conjunction with nazi agents a secret armed force in the united states. with true in this effort to establish a cagoulard organization in this country, were some of the most active nazi agents and patrioteers. footnotes: [ ] not to be confused with prof. paul h. douglas of the university of chicago, a highly reputable scholar and a stanch defender of democracy. [ ] father coughlin was finally reprimanded by the vatican for his unpriestly attacks upon the president. x _underground armies in america_ early in native americans, working with nazi agents, completed plans to organize a secret army along the general lines of the cagoulards in france. the decision was made after the liaison man between nazi agents here and plotters for the secret army met with fritz kuhn and signor giuseppe cosmelli, counselor to the italian embassy in washington. the liaison man is henry d. allen, who moved from san diego to nina st., pasadena, calif. allen, the reader may recollect, helped schwinn organize the mexican gold shirts which unsuccessfully attempted to seize the mexican government. allen is still active in a plot to overthrow the cárdenas government, working at the moment with gen. ramon f. iturbe, a member of the mexican chamber of deputies, with gen. yocupicio who is smuggling arms as part of a plan to rebel, and with pablo l. delgado who took over the fascist gold shirt work under a different name after rodriguez was exiled when his attempt to march on the government failed. to understand the feverish activities of foreign agents and native americans working with foreign agents, one must remember that when the world war broke out in , germany was caught with only small espionage and sabotage organizations in the united states. it cost the german war office large sums of money to build them under difficult and dangerous conditions. the nazis do not intend to be caught the same way in the event a war finds the united states on the enemy side or, if neutral, supplying arms and materials to the enemy. the first step to prevent such a development is to build an enormous propaganda machine and to draw into it as many native americans as possible. because of the future potentialities of natives as spies and _saboteurs_, the nazi leaders take extraordinary precautions to safeguard their identities. should the united states become involved in a war with fascist powers, especially germany, the german members of the bund can be watched and, if necessary, interned; but native americans not known as bund members can move about freely, hence the care to prevent their identities from becoming known. schwinn, for instance, keeps a regular list of the german-american bund members at the _deutsches haus_ in los angeles. the native american members, however, are not listed. the names are kept in code and only schwinn knows the code numbers. military considerations thus lead the nazi general staff to maintain this propaganda in the united states, despite the knowledge nazi leaders in germany have that its activities and distasteful propaganda here are seriously hampering german-american commercial relations. the propaganda machine is already functioning as the german-american _volksbund_. the second step, as was demonstrated in france with the cagoulards and in spain with franco's fifth column, is to organize secret armies capable of starting sporadic outbreaks tantamount to civil war--a procedure which would naturally deflect the country's energies in war time. this second step was taken after careful study, and henry d. allen was chosen as the liaison man between those maneuvering the plot. the private letters exchanged between allen and his fellow conspirators are now in my possession. some of the letters exchanged were signed with the writers' real names and some with code names. allen's code name, for instance, is "rosenthal." on april , , he wrote to a "g.d." (of whom more shortly) as follows: have just sent delgado into sonora incognito. this move has resulted from a four-party conference held in yuma a few days ago. this party was composed of urbalejo, chief of the yaqui nation, joe mattus, his trusted lieutenant, delgado and myself. yocupicio has completely come over to our side, which you can perceive from the outcome of the little tryout in aqua prieta a few weeks ago. delgado has arrived safely at bocatete, and will get the boys in that part of the country pretty active.... inasmuch as i am his legal and properly accredited representative in the united states, you may rest assured that there will be no doubt as to the objectives of this movement south of the rio grande. i have received three letters from general iturbe in which he tells me that they are taking the spanish copies of the protocols which k. sent me, and making , copies of same. in each letter he begs me to set a time and date for meeting him at guadalajara for the purpose of effecting the necessary plans for active campaigning with delgado. i will arrange all of this as soon as you consider it expedient.... rosenthal. two days later (april , ) he wrote from fresno, calif. under his own name to f.w. clark, -½ s. yakima ave., tacoma, wash. the letter reads in part: relative to the gold shirts of mexico, please be advised that we found it necessary to reorganize this group in august, . the activist elements have proceeded and are now carrying on under the name of the mexican nationalist movement of which pablo l. delgado is the nominal head. i am the legal and personal representative of delgado in the movement in the united states. so much for his current activities to establish fascism to the south of us. most americans who fall for nazi propaganda do not suspect that they are being played for suckers by shrewd manipulators pulling the strings in berlin, and probably not one of the many reputable and sincerely patriotic americans who fell for allen's "patriotic" appeals suspects his activities against the country he so zealously wants to "save." some shrewd observer once remarked that "patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel." whenever i come across an "ultra-patriot" with foam dripping from his mouth while he beats his chest with loud cries about his own honesty and the crookedness of those running the country, i suspect a phony. as a rule, i look for the criminal record of a man who's yelling "chase out the crooks" and "let's have honest government," and all too often i find one. henry d. allen, _alias_ h.o. moffet, _alias_ howard leighton allen, _alias_ rosenthal, etc., ex-inmate of san quentin and folsom prisons, is no exception; his criminal record extends over a period of twenty-nine years. let me give the record before i start quoting from his letters, chiefly for the benefit of those sincere and loyal americans who thought his swastika-inspired activities represented honest convictions. may , : arrested in los angeles charged with uttering fictitious checks. in simple language this means just a little bit of forgery. los angeles police department file, no. . june , : sentenced to three years imprisonment; sentence suspended upon tearful assurances of good behavior. may , : picked up in philadelphia charged with being a fugitive; brought back to los angeles. july , : committed to san quentin. guest no. . april , : committed to folsom from santa barbara on a forgery charge. guest no. . feb. , : arrested in los angeles county charged with suspicion of a felony. los angeles county no. . june , : arrested in san francisco, charged with uttering fictitious checks. no. . oct. , : los angeles police department issued notice that allen was wanted for uttering fictitious checks. bulletin no. . allen is apparently a prolific writer--of bad checks and of long reports about his activities to his superiors. two of allen's close friends are also native americans: c.f. ingalls of bush st., san francisco and george deatherage (the g.d. mentioned earlier). deatherage now lives and operates out of st. albans, w. va. he organized the american nationalist confederation which used to have its headquarters in palo alto, calif. both these gentlemen also work with schwinn. on january , , deatherage received from san francisco a letter signed "c.f.i."--in a plain envelope without a return address. the letter is very long and detailed. i quote in part: we must get busy organizing grid-lattice-work or skeleton for a military staff throughout the nation, and in this we need representatives of fascist groups, and we need americans with whom these others may be incorporated.... all must believe in being ruthless in an emergency.... the political and the military organizations must not be unified. they have different aims. with one hand we offer the public a potential program. whether they accept it or not and whether they wish to return to the ideals embodied in a representative form of a constitutional federal republic or not, is of secondary importance. of first importance is the need of the emergency military organization to function simultaneously should our enemies revolt if we should win politically or should we revolt if our enemies win politically. on january , , deatherage received a letter signed with the code name "laura and clayton." "laura" is hermann schwinn. this letter, too, is long and goes into details on how best to organize the secret military group and have it ready for instant action. the letter states at one point: after we do all this, now then we shall have the national military framework all steamed up and oiled and coupled to the multiplicity of working parts ready to appear on all fronts.... after "c.f.i." and "laura and clayton" had decided on the details of the secret military body in which they needed the aid of "nazi and fascist" forces, they needed money and arms. early in january, allen received from "mrs. fry and c. chapman" four hundred and fifty dollars for a trip to washington, d.c. "mrs. fry and c. chapman" live in santa monica, but use glendale, calif, for a post office address. this money was spent between january and february , , according to the expense account allen turned in to the fry-chapman combination. three days after allen got the money (january , ), he received from schwinn a letter of introduction to fritz kuhn, addressed to the _amerikadeutscher volksbund_, e. th street, new york city. the letter was written in german. following is the translation: my bund leader: the bearer of this letter is my old friend and comrade-in-arms, henry allen, who is coming east on an important matter. mr. allen knows the situation in los angeles and california very well and can give you important information. we can give allen absolute confidence. hail and victory, hermann schwinn. the "important matter" on which allen was going east and which he wanted to discuss with the national nazi leader in this country, was to contact the italian embassy, the hungarian legation, james true of the james true associates (distributors of "industrial control reports" from its headquarters in washington, d.c.), george deatherage in st. albans, w. va., and several others. allen reported regularly to chapman, signing his letters with the code name "rosenthal." i quote in part from one letter written from washington on january , : upon calling at the rumanian embassy i found the ambassador with all his attachés are of the carol-tartarescu regime, and they are sailing on wednesday, january . the new ambassador will arrive with his staff on saturday, i am told. the letter which you gave me i mailed to budapest myself, not daring to entrust it to the present staff at the embassy. at the italian embassy i found the ambassador away, but i had a very delightful and satisfactory conference with signor g. cosmelli, who is the italian counselor.... shortly after the conference at the italian embassy, true and allen conferred. subsequently, true wrote to allen and added a postscript in long hand: "but be very careful about controlling the information and destroy this letter." allen did not destroy it immediately. the letter, dated february , , reads in part: the bunch of money promised off and on for three years may come through within the next week or two. we have had so many disappointments that i hardly dare hope but there seems a fair chance of results. if it comes through we will have you back here in a hurry. you, george, and i will get together and prepare for real action. if your friends want some pea shooters, i have connections now for any quantity and at the right price. they are united states standard surplus. let me know as soon as you can. to these events must be added the peculiar and unexplained actions of the dies congressional committee appointed to "investigate subversive activities." the committee employed a nazi propagandist as one of its chief investigators and refused to question three suspected nazi spies working in the brooklyn navy yard. congressman martin dies of texas, chairman of the committee, gave two of the _national republic's_ high-pressure men letters of introduction when they started out on a little milking party in the name of patriotism. he received the cooperation of harry a. jung, and he refused to examine the files of james a. true when the above letter was brought to his committee's attention. but these actions merit more detailed consideration. xi _the dies committee suppresses evidence_ three suspected nazi spies were quietly taken out of the brooklyn navy yard to the dies congressional committee headquarters in new york in room , united states court house building. the three men were each questioned for about five minutes by congressman j. parnell thomas[ ] of new jersey and joe starnes of alabama. the men were asked if they had heard of any un-american goings-on in the navy yard. each of the three subpoenaed men said he had not, and the congressmen sent them back to work in the navy yard after warning them not to say a word to anyone about having been called before the committee. when i learned of the congressional committee's refusal to question men they had subpoenaed, i wondered at the unusual procedure--especially since it promptly put nazi propagandists (such as edwin p. banta, a speaker for the german-american bund) on the stand as authorities on "un-american" activities in the united states. a little inquiry turned up some interesting facts. one of the committee's chief investigators, edward francis sullivan of boston, had worked closely with nazi agents as far back as . sullivan's whole record was extremely unsavory. he had been a labor spy, had been active in promoting anti-democratic sentiments in cooperation with secret agents of the german government and in addition was a convicted thief. (shortly after slap-happy eddie, as he was known around boston because of his convictions on drunkenness, lined up with the nazis, he got six months for a little stealing.) before going on with the congressional committee's strange attitude toward suspected spies and known propagandists in constant communication with germany, it might be well to review a meeting which the congressional committee's investigator addressed in the nazi stronghold in yorkville. [illustration: reproduction of a document showing that edward francis sullivan, at one time chief investigator for the dies committee, was convicted of larceny and sentenced to prison.] on the night of tuesday, june , , at eight o'clock, some , nazis and their friends attended a mass meeting of the friends of the new germany at turnhall, lexington ave. and th street, new york city. sixty nazi storm troopers--attired in uniforms with black breeches and sam brown belts, smuggled off nazi ships--were the guard of honor. storm troop officers had white and red arm bands with the swastika superimposed on them. every twenty minutes the troopers, clicking their heels in the best nazi fashion, changed guard in front of the speakers' stand. the hitler youth organization was present. men and women nazis sold the official nazi publication, _jung sturm_, and everybody awaited the coming of one of the chief speakers of the evening who was to bring them a message from the boston nazis. w.l. mclaughlin, then editor of the _deutsche zeitung_, spoke in english. he was followed by h. hempel, an officer of the nazi steamship "stuttgart," who vigorously exhorted his audience to fight for hitlerism and was rewarded by shouts of "heil hitler!" mclaughlin then introduced edward francis sullivan of boston as a "fighting irishman." the gentleman whom the congressional committee chose as one of its investigators into subversive activities, gave the crowd the hitler salute and launched into an attack upon the "dirty, lousy, stinking jews." in the course of his talk he announced proudly that he had organized the group of nazis in boston who had attacked and beaten liberals and communists at a meeting protesting the docking of the nazi cruiser "karlsruhe," in an american port. the audience cheered. sullivan, again giving the nazi salute, shouted: "throw the goddam lousy jews--all of them--into the atlantic ocean. we'll get rid of the stinking kikes! heil hitler!" the three suspected nazi spies were subpoenaed on august , . they were: walter dieckhoff, badge no. , living at e. th street, sheepshead bay. hugo woulters, badge no. , living at east th street, brooklyn. alfred boldt, badge no. , living at - th street, middle village, l.i. boldt had worked in the navy yard since . dieckhoff and woulters went to work there within one day of each other in june, . the three men were kept in the committee's room from one o'clock on the day they were subpoenaed until five in the afternoon. when it became apparent that the congressmen would not show up until the next day, the men were dismissed and told to come back the following morning. not a word was said to them as to why they had been subpoenaed. nevertheless dieckhoff, who was with the german air corps during the world war, instead of going to his home in sheepshead bay, drove to the home of albert nordenholz at castleton ave., port richmond, s.i., where he kept two trunks. nordenholz, a german-american naturalized citizen for many years, is highly respected by the people in his neighborhood. when dieckhoff first came to the united states, the nordenholzes accepted him with open arms. he was the son of an old friend back in bremerhafen, germany. dieckhoff asked permission to keep two trunks in the nordenholz garret; he stored them there when he went to work in the brooklyn navy yard. during the two years he worked in the yard, he would drop around every two weeks or so and go up to the garret to his trunks. just what he did on those visits, nordenholz does not know. on the night dieckhoff was subpoenaed he suddenly appeared to claim the trunks. he told nordenholz that he planned to return to germany. just what the trunks contained and what he did with them i do not know. they have vanished. i called upon dieckhoff in the two-story house in sheepshead bay where he lived. he had no intimate friends, didn't smoke, drink or run around. the life of the german war veteran seemed to be confined to working in the navy yard, returning home unobtrusively to work on ships' models and making his occasional visits to nordenholz's garret. so far as i could learn, dieckhoff became a marine engineer, working for the north german lloyd after the world war. in he entered the united states illegally and remained for two years. eventually he returned to germany, but came back to the united states, this time legally, applied for citizenship papers and became a naturalized citizen five years later. before he went to work on american war vessels, he worked in various parts of the country--in automobile shops, in the general electric co. in schenectady and as an engineer on sheepshead bay boats. even after hitler came into power, he worked on sheepshead bay boats. after the berlin-tokyo axis was formed ( ), germany became particularly interested in american naval affairs, for the axis, among other things, exchanged military secrets. shortly before the agreement was made, dieckhoff suddenly went to work for the staten island shipbuilding co., staten island, which was building four united states destroyers, numbers , , and . he worked on these destroyers during the day. until late at night he pursued his hobby of building ships' models, which he never made an attempt to sell. dieckhoff weighed his words carefully during our talk. "why did you apply for a transfer from staten island to the brooklyn navy yard?" i asked. "i don't know," he said. "i guess there was more money in it." "how much were you getting when you were working on the destroyers?" "it was some time ago," he said slowly. "i do not remember very good." "how much are you getting now at the navy yard?" "forty dollars and twenty-nine cents a week." "you went to germany last year for a couple of months and before that you went to germany for six months. were you able to save enough for these trips on your wages?" "i do not spend very much," he said. "i live here all alone." "how much do you save a week?" "oh, i don't know. ten dollars a week." "that would make five hundred dollars a year--if you worked steadily, which you didn't. you traveled third class. a round trip would be about two hundred dollars. that would leave you three hundred to spend provided you did not buy clothes, etc., for these trips. how did you manage to live in germany for six months on three hundred dollars? did you work there?" he hesitated and said, "no, i did not work there. i traveled around. i was not in one place." "how did you do it on three hundred dollars for six months?" "my brother gave me money." "what's your brother's business?" "oh, just general business in bremerhafen. he's got a big business there." "perhaps i can get a report from the american consul--" "oh," he interrupted. "his business isn't that big." "have you a bank account?" he hesitated again and then said, "no, i do not make enough money for a bank account." "where do you keep your money for trips to germany? in cash?" "yes, in cash." "where? here? in this room?" "no. not in this room. i have it locked up." "where?" "oh, different places," he said vaguely. "where are those places?" "i have my money with a friend." "who?" "nordenholz, albert nordenholz." "you work in brooklyn, live in sheepshead bay and save ten dollars a week in port richmond with a friend? isn't that a long distance to go to save money?" he shrugged his shoulders without answering. "what's nordenholz's business?" "i think he's retired. i think he used to be a butcher." "you don't know very much about a man's business and you travel all this distance to give him money to save for you when there are banks all around? why do you do that?" "oh, i don't know. it seems to me that it is better that way." later when i asked nordenholz, he denied that dieckhoff had ever given him any money to hold. dieckhoff had worked on turbines, gear reductions and other complicated mechanical parts on the cruiser "brooklyn." the moment i asked him if he handled blueprints he answered in the affirmative, but quickly added that the blueprints were returned every night and locked up by the officers. a capable machinist could, he admitted, after careful study remember the blueprints well enough to make a duplicate copy. "when you went to germany after working on the destroyers did anyone ever question you about them over there?" "no," he said quickly. "nobody." "my information is that you did talk about structural matters." he looked startled. "well," he said, "my brother knew i worked in the brooklyn navy yard. we talked about it, naturally." "my information is that you talked about it with other people, too." he stared out of the window with a worried air. finally he said, "well, my brother has a friend and i talked with him about it." "a minute ago you said you had not talked about it with anyone." "i had forgotten." "this is the brother who gave you money to travel around in germany?" he didn't answer. "i didn't hear you," i said. "yes," dieckhoff said finally, "he gave me the money." i called upon the second of the three suspected spies subpoenaed by the dies committee. alfred boldt had done very responsible work on the u.s. cruiser "honolulu." though he had not been in germany for ten years, he suddenly got enough money last year to go there and to send his son to school at a nazi academy. boldt, too, has no bank account. he needed a minimum of seven hundred dollars for his wife and himself to cross third class, but the dies committee was not interested in where the money for the trip had come from. boldt left for germany on august , , and returned september . on the evening i dropped in to see him, he was tensely nervous. he had heard that someone had been around to talk with dieckhoff. "i understand your only son, helmuth, is going to school in langin, germany?" i asked. "yes," he said, "i sent him there two years ago." "no schools in the united states for a fifteen-year-old boy?" "i wanted him to learn german." "what do you pay for his schooling over there?" he hesitated. his wife, who was sitting with us and occasionally advising him in german, suddenly interrupted in german, "don't tell him. that's german business." i assume they did not know that i understood, for boldt passed off her comment as if he had not heard it and said casually, "oh, twenty-five dollars a month." "you earn forty dollars a week at the navy yard, pay for your son's schooling in germany, clothes, etc., and you and your wife took more than a month's trip to germany last year. how do you do it on forty a week?" his wife giggled a little in the adjoining room. boldt shrugged his shoulder without answering. "the cheapest the two of you could do it, third class, would be about seven hundred dollars. where do you have your bank account?" "no. no bank account," his wife interrupted sharply. "all the money is kept here, right here in this house," he laughed. "you saved all that money in cash?" "yes; in cash, right here." "no banks?" "we like it better like that--in cash." boldt, like dieckhoff, had been a marine engineer on the north german lloyd. he went to work in the brooklyn navy yard in . when the cruiser "honolulu" made its trial run in the spring of , boldt was on board. like dieckhoff and boldt, harry woulters, _alias_ hugo woulters, the third of the three subpoenaed men, is a naturalized citizen of german extraction. he went to work in the navy yard within one day of dieckhoff. before that, both had worked on the same four american destroyers at the staten island shipbuilding company. the house where woulters lives has a great many jews in it, judging from the names on the letterboxes, and since hugo sounded too german, he listed his first name as "harry." "you and dieckhoff worked on the same destroyers on staten island and you say you never met him there?" i asked. "no, i never met him until the second day after i went to work in the navy yard." "how many people work on a destroyer--a thousand?" "oh, no. not that many." "about one hundred?" "about that," he said uncertainly. "and you worked with dieckhoff for six months on the same warships and never met him?" "yes," he insisted. "how come that if you never met him both of you applied for jobs at the brooklyn navy yard at about the same time?" he shrugged his shoulders. "i don't know. it's funny. sounds funny, anyway." "when you worked on the cruiser 'honolulu' you handled blueprints?" "yes, of course, but they were never left in my possession overnight," he added quickly. i couldn't help but think that dieckhoff, too, had been very quick in protesting that the blueprints had never been left in his possession overnight. they seemed worried about that even though i had not said anything about it. "were they _ever_ left in your possession overnight?" "no. they guarded the blueprints--" "my information is that they were left in your possession." "wells, sometimes--blueprints--you know, when you work from blueprints sometimes, yes, sometimes blueprints were left in my possession overnight. i was working on reduction gears on the cruiser 'brooklyn' and i kept the blueprints overnight." "how often?" "i can't remember how often. sometimes the blueprints were kept overnight in my tool box." "you also worked on turbines and other complicated and confidential structural problems on the warship?" "yes." "and you kept those blueprints overnight, too?" "sometimes--not often. sometimes i left them in my tool box overnight." woulters, during the latter period of construction on the "brooklyn" and the "honolulu" had got two jobs which most workers do not like. he had the four to midnight and the midnight to eight a.m. watches. normally woulters likes to stay at home with his wife. "while you had these watch duties you had pretty much the run of the ship?" he hesitated and weighed his words carefully before answering. finally he nodded and added hastily, "but no one can get on board." "i didn't ask that. did you have the run of the ship while everybody else was asleep when you were on watch?" "yes," he said in a low voice. "how did you happen to work in the brooklyn navy yard?" "oh, i don't know. i like to work for the government." "have you a bank account?" "yes." "what bank?" "oh, i don't know, it's some place on church avenue." "you have about , dollars in the bank, a nice apartment, and you and your wife went on a trip to germany last year. did you save all that money in so short a time on wages of forty dollars a week?" he shrugged his shoulders. "your bank account does not show withdrawals sufficient to cover the trip to germany--" "say," he interrupted excitedly as soon as he saw where the question was leading, "when i was called before the dies committee, the congressman there shook hands with me and asked me if i knew anything about un-american activities in the navy yard. i told him i didn't and he told me to go back to work and not to say anything about having been called before them. now i do not understand why you ask me all these questions. the congressman told me not to talk and i am saying nothing more. nothing." the dies congressional committee was not interested in these three men whom they had subpoenaed and then, oddly enough, refused to question. besides this very strange procedure by a committee empowered by the congress to investigate subversive activities, the dies committee withheld for months documentary evidence of nazi activities in this country directed from germany. the committee obtained letters to guenther orgell and peter gissibl, but quietly placed them in their files without telling anyone about the existence of these documents. they did not subpoena or question the men involved. the letters the committee treated so cavalierly are from e.a. vennekohl in charge of the foreign division of the _volksbund für das deutschtum im ausland_ with headquarters in berlin, letters from the foreign division headquarters in stuttgart, and from orgell to gissibl. gissibl was in constant touch with nazi propaganda headquarters in germany, receiving instructions and reporting not only on general activities, but especially upon the opening by the nazis here of schools for children in which nazi propaganda would be disseminated. the letters, freely translated, follow. the first is dated october , , and was sent by orgell from his home at great kills, s.i.: dear mr. gissibl: many thanks for your prompt reply. my complaint that one cannot get an answer from chicago refers to the time prior to may, . i assume from your writing that it is not opportune any more to deliver further books to the _arbeitsgemeinschaft_, etc. the material which mr. balderman received came from the v.d.a.[ ] it has been sent to our central book distributing place (mirbt). if he wishes he can get more any time; that is, if you recommend it. the thirty books for your theodore koerner school, which arrived this summer (via the german consulate general in chicago), also came from the v.d.a. if you need more first readers or study books, please write directly to me. your request then goes immediately--without the official way via the consulate and foreign office--to our central book distributing place. please say how many you need and what else beside the first readers and primers[ ] you need. i will take care that it will be promptly attended to. fritz kuhn, of course, has to be informed of your request and has to give his okay.... with german greetings, carl g. orgell. five days earlier orgell had written to gissibl: "you may perhaps remember that i am in charge of the work for the _volkbund für das deutschtum im ausland_[ ] for the u.s.a." [illustration: a letter the dies committee shelved--carl g. orgell identifying himself to peter gissibl as a representative of the people's bund for germans living abroad.] on march , , gissibl, who had been taking instructions from orgell, received the following letter from stuttgart: dear peter: from your office manager. comrade möller, i received a letter dated february . he informed me among other things that an exchange of youth is out of the question for this year. i regret this very much. i would like to see, in the interests of our common efforts, if we would have had youth all ready this year, especially also from your district. perhaps it is still possible with your support. the time, of course, which is still at our disposal, is very limited. this i can see clearly. i will write to you again in greater detail soon. in the meantime you can perhaps send me more detailed information about the development of your school during the past weeks; i recommend again the fulfillment of your justified wishes wholeheartedly. let us hope that the result might be achieved very soon towards which we in common strive. hearty greetings from house to house. in loyal comradeship, yours, g. moshack. on may , , e.a. vennekohl, of the people's bund for germans living abroad, wrote to gissibl as follows: dear comrade gissibl: we wrote you yesterday that the , badges for the singing festival would be sent to you via orgell; for various reasons we have now divided the badges in ten single packages of which two each went to the following addresses: friedrich schlenz, karl moeller, karl kraenzle, orgell and two to you. please inform your co-workers respectively and take care that in case duties have to be paid they should be laid out; please see to it that orgell refunds the money to you later; this was the simplest and the only way by which the badges could be sent in order to arrive on time. with the german people's greetings, e.a. vennekohl. these documents in the hands of the dies committee show definite tie-ups between german propaganda divisions and agents in the united states (some of them came through the nazi diplomatic corps), yet these documents were put aside. the letters from true, allen, and others quoted in the previous chapter were also placed before the congressional committee. it refused to call the men involved. [illustration: another letter connecting gissibl with a german propaganda agency. this letter, translated in the text, was hardly noticed by the dies committee.] [illustration: further evidence of gissibl's tie-up with the people's bund for germans living abroad. this letter, a translation of which appears in the text, was also long withheld by the dies committee.] footnotes: [ ] formerly known as j. parnell feeney. he changed his name because he thought he could get along better in the business world with a name like thomas than with a name as potently irish as feeney. [ ] nazi propaganda center for foreign countries with headquarters in germany. [ ] the notorious nazi primer teaching children songs of hate against jews and catholics. [ ] people's bund for germans living abroad. _conclusion_ the activities of the few agents and propagandists described in the foregoing chapters do not, as i said in the preface, even scratch the surface of what seem to be widespread efforts to interfere in the internal affairs of the american people and their government; but a few basic conclusions can reasonably be drawn from what little is known of the fifth column's operations. berlin-directed agents in foreign countries sometimes combine propaganda and espionage, frequently using the propaganda organizations as the bases for espionage. in the united states, so far as i have been able to ascertain, agents of the rome-berlin-tokyo axis are just beginning to cooperate. in the central and south american countries, however, the axis has apparently agreed to a division of labor, each of the fascist powers assuming a specific field of activity. germany, italy and japan have already shown the extent to which they will go in their drive for raw materials vital to their industries and war machines. in spain, the german and italian fifth column organized and fomented a bloody civil war in order to establish a wide fascist area to the south of france, for germany and italy, of course, consider france a potential enemy in the next war. in france itself, german and italian agents, aided by their governments, built an amazing network of steel and concrete fortifications manned by at least , heavily armed men--all this before france awoke to the treason within her own borders. the strategy pursued by the fifth column in different countries falls into like patterns. in austria, before it was swallowed, nazi agents first established propaganda organizations as the bases from which to work. when, after the abortive attempt to seize the austrian government, the nazis were made illegal, they went underground but continued to get aid from germany. eventually berlin ordered _standarte ii_ organized as a specific body prepared to provoke disturbances. when the austrian police quelled them, the provocations enabled germany to protest that german citizens were being attacked and mistreated. the activities of _standarte ii_, directed by the gestapo, continued with increasing intensity until the unfortunate country was absorbed. in czechoslovakia the same strategy was followed: first the establishment of propaganda centers to which nazis and nazi sympathizers could gravitate--under the cloak of bodies seeking to improve relations between the sudeten germans and the czech government; then the utilization of propaganda headquarters and branches as centers for espionage. shortly before the munich pact, _standarte ii_ again came into being, creating disorders which, when czech police tried to suppress them, enabled germany to raise the cry that czech subjects of german blood were being cruelly mistreated. invariably the aggressor nation raises a moral issue to cover up proposed acts of aggression. italy wanted to "civilize the ethiopians" by dropping bombs on defenseless women and children. germany and italy openly sent aid to franco "to keep spain from being bolshevized." and so on. the broad "moral issue" on the international field to cover up aggressions by the rome-berlin-tokyo axis is "communism." the axis, announced as having been formed "to exchange information about communism," is really a military alliance now generally recognized. with the same issue, the axis is now boring into the western hemisphere. actually the reasons seem to be military and not missionary. germany, especially, has sent and is sending agents not only to carry on espionage but to organize groups for political pressure upon the american republics. i very much doubt, from all i have been able to learn, if the motive is primarily to win the americas over to the joys of totalitarian government or to the theory of aryan supremacy. the money and the effort seem to be expended for more practical reasons. the bunds can exert not only political pressure, but can develop natives with fascist leanings into the spies and _saboteurs_ so badly needed in war time; for this reason it is worth the enormous effort and money it is costing the aggressor nations. when the long expected war breaks, neither europe nor the far east will be in a condition to supply war materials and foodstuffs to the warring countries. the chief sources of raw materials will be the western hemisphere. a strong foothold in the americas means a tremendous advantage in the coming struggle, since materials are as important to an army as is man power. and, should the fascist powers be unable to get these raw materials for themselves, secret agents can at least sabotage shipments to enemy countries--as did german agents in the united states during the first years of the world war, while we were still neutral. mexico, because of its enormous oil supplies, plays an important part in fascist military strategy. consequently, we find intensive efforts by the axis, and especially germany, to overthrow the cárdenas government because it is avowedly anti-fascist. a fascist government, helped into power by the rome-berlin-tokyo axis, could be depended upon to supply much needed oil in war time. the united states, as one of the world's greatest sources of raw materials and foodstuffs, is an even more important factor. germany has not forgotten that its armies had the allies on their knees when american supplies and american man power turned their imminent victory into defeat; should america be on the side of the democracies as against the fascist powers, sabotaging shipments of supplies and men will be as important as crushing an enemy line. the tactics utilized in the western hemisphere by the fifth column are similar to those used in europe. propaganda machines, masquerading as organizations designed to promote better relationships between a fascist and an american nation, are set up. fascist movements are organized, usually from across national boundaries. in mexico, nazi agents operating out of the united states organized the gold shirts; subsequently, as in austria, a putsch was attempted (in and again in ). the storing of arms in sonora by general yocupicio, who is working with nazi agents, promises another rebellion when the time seems ripe. in central america, the axis is presenting small republics with gifts of arms in efforts to win their friendship. agents sent from germany are establishing nazi centers and the home government is supplying them with propaganda. in panama the situation is somewhat more sharp. there japan has always had an intense interest in the canal. in the axis, germany has become a co-worker since she has large colonies in brazil and colombia, next door to the panama canal. these colonies are now being organized at a feverish pace while the countries themselves are deluged with propaganda over special short-wave beams. in brazil, a nazi-directed abortive putsch took place in . these activities point to an objective which certainly is not calculated to be in the interest of the united states and our monroe doctrine. from all indications the efforts appear directed toward ringing the united states with fascist countries, or at least countries with fascist bodies capable of giving the united states a headache should she ever be involved in a war with one or all of the axis powers. in the united states itself we find that the strategy is the same as that followed in austria, czechoslovakia and in countries of the western world. the german-american bund functions "to promote better relations between the united states and germany," but the efforts consist of persistent anti-american and anti-democratic propaganda and, within the past year or two, of serving as a base for military and naval spies. with germany directing the strategy, her agents in all countries raise the issue of the "menace of the jew and the catholic," with especial emphasis upon the jew; the catholics are still too strong for the nazis to come to grips with at this time. the federal government, of course, has ample legal machinery for prosecuting spies, but espionage is only part of the broad nazi campaign against this democratic government. so far as the western world is concerned, the federal government has already taken steps to try to counteract the short-wave broadcasts by german and italian government-controlled stations. counter broadcasts are being employed as a defensive measure, and though of value, will probably not completely counteract fascist "news" agencies supplying propaganda in the guise of news, free of charge, to the central and south american newspapers as well as printed propaganda sent from germany and distributed by the bunds. outside of military action, economic pressure seems to be the only language the fascist governments understand, and a little of that pressure by the american government would probably make them understand our resentment at their invasion far more than broadcasts and general talk about a family of nations in the western hemisphere. our laws and courts provide a machinery which can be used to prevent any infringement upon the democratically constituted rights of the people. it is of vital importance, however, that preparations for fascist lawlessness be vigilantly uprooted. the italian and german people made just this fatal mistake of tolerating the activities of mussolini's and hitler's gangs until they grew strong enough to seize power and crush every sign of democracy. there is no reason why a great people, attacked by a pernicious ideology, cannot counteract such propaganda with greater and more intelligent propaganda to educate our people to the advantages of democracy--to what fascism really means to everyone, including the big industrialists and financiers, some of whom have been flirting with fascism. the government, however, can and should be instructed by the representatives of the people, to take proper steps to stop the infiltration of nazi agents and propagandists into this country. there are various other and perhaps more practical and useful steps which can be taken, but those can be worked out once the people awake to the danger of permitting fascist propaganda to go on, and sentiment becomes strong enough to put an end to foreign-directed activities here. --the end-- _this book has been produced wholly under union conditions. the paper was made, the type set, the plates electrotyped, and the printing and binding done in union shops affiliated with the american federation of labor. all employees of modern age books, inc., are members of the book and magazine guild, local no. of the united office and professional workers of america, affiliated with the congress of industrial organizations._ * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | page : potosi replaced with potosí | | page : nicholas rodriguez replaced with | | nicholás rodriguez | | page : 'among those who attended where' replaced with | | 'among those who attended were' | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * [transcriber's note: these stories have introductions which end with thought breaks, sometimes with a closing quotation mark from the storyteller. when the storyteller continues the story after the thought break, opening quotation marks are consistently omitted. remaining transcriber's notes are located at the end of the text.] [cover illustration: on secret service, william nelson taft] on secret service [decoration] on secret service _detective-mystery stories based on real cases solved by government agents_ by william nelson taft [illustration] harper & brothers publishers new york and london * * * * * on secret service copyright, , by harper & brothers printed in the united states of america * * * * * contents page i. a flash in the night ii. the mint mystery iii. the ypiranga case iv. the clue on shelf v. phyllis dodge, smuggler extraordinary vi. a matter of record vii. the secret still viii. the taxicab tangle ix. a match for the government x. the girl at the switchboard xi. "lost--$ , !" xii. "the double code" xiii. the trail of the white mice xiv. wah lee and the flower of heaven xv. the man with three wives xvi. after seven years xvii. the poison-pen puzzle xviii. thirty thousand yards of silk xix. the clue in the classified column xx. in the shadow of the capitol xxi. a million-dollar quarter xxii. "the looting of the c. t. c." xxiii. the case of mrs. armitage xxiv. five inches of death on secret service i a flash in the night we were sitting in the lobby of the willard, bill quinn and i, watching the constant stream of politicians, pretty women, and petty office seekers who drift constantly through the heart of washington. suddenly, under his breath, i heard quinn mutter, "hello!" and, following his eyes, i saw a trim, dapper, almost effeminate-looking chap of about twenty-five strolling through peacock alley as if he didn't have a care in the world. "what's the matter?" i inquired. "somebody who oughtn't to be here?" "not at all. he's got a perfect right to be anywhere he pleases, but i didn't know he was home. last time i heard of him he was in seattle, mixed up with those riots that ole hanson handled so well." "bolshevist?" "hardly," and quinn smiled. "don't you know jimmy callahan? well, it's scarcely the province of a secret service man to impress his face upon everyone ... the secret wouldn't last long. no, jimmy was working on the other end of the seattle affair. trying to locate the men behind the move--and i understand he did it fairly well, too. but what else would you expect from the man who solved that submarine tangle in norfolk?" quinn must have read the look of interest in my face, for he continued, almost without a pause: "did you ever hear the inside of that case? one of the most remarkable in the whole history of the secret service, and that's saying a good deal. i don't suppose it would do any harm to spill it, so let's move over there in a corner and i'll relate a few details of a case where the second hand of a watch played a leading role." * * * * * the whole thing started back in the spring of [said quinn, who held down a soft berth in the treasury department as a reward for a game leg obtained during a counterfeiting raid on long island]. along about then, if you remember, the germans let loose a lot of boasting statements as to what they were going to do to american ships and american shipping. transports were going to be sunk, commerce crippled and all that sort of thing. while not a word of it got into the papers, there were a bunch of people right here in washington who took these threats seriously--for the hun's most powerful weapon appeared to be in his submarines, and if a fleet of them once got going off the coast we'd lose a lot of valuable men and time landing them. then came the sinking of the _carolina_ and those other ships off the jersey coast. altogether it looked like a warm summer. one afternoon the chief sent for callahan, who'd just come back from taking care of some job down on the border, and told him his troubles. "jimmy," said the chief, "somebody on this side is giving those damn huns a whole lot of information that they haven't any business getting. you know about those boats they've sunk already, of course. they're only small fry. what they're laying for is a transport, another _tuscania_ that they can stab in the dark and make their getaway. the point that's worrying us is that the u-boats must be getting their information from some one over here. the sinking of the _carolina_ proves that. no submarine, operating on general cruising orders, could possibly have known when that ship was due or what course she was going to take. every precaution was taken at san juan to keep her sailing a secret, but of course you can't hide every detail of that kind. she got out. some one saw her, wired the information up the coast here and the man we've got to nab tipped the u-boat off. "of course we could go at it from porto rico, but that would mean wasting a whole lot more time than we can afford. it's not so much a question of the other end of the cable as it is who transmitted the message to the submarine--and how! "it's your job to find out before they score a real hit." callahan, knowing the way things are handled in the little suite on the west side of the treasury building, asked for the file containing the available information and found it very meager indeed. details of the sinking of the _carolina_ were included, among them the fact that the _u- _ had been waiting directly in the path of the steamer, though the latter was using a course entirely different from the one the new york and porto rico s. s. company's boats generally took. the evidence of a number of passengers was that the submarine didn't appear a bit surprised at the size of her prey, but went about the whole affair in a businesslike manner. the meat of the report was contained in the final paragraph, stating that one of the german officers had boasted that they "would get a lot more ships in the same way," adding, "don't worry--we'll be notified when they are going to sail." of course, callahan reasoned, this might be simply a piece of teutonic bravado--but there was more than an even chance that it was the truth, particularly when taken in conjunction with the sinking of the _texel_ and the _pinar del rio_ and the fact that the _carolina's_ course was so accurately known. but how in the name of heaven had they gotten their information? callahan knew that the four principal ports of embarkation for troops--boston, new york, norfolk, and charleston--were shrouded in a mantle of secrecy which it was almost impossible to penetrate. some months before, when he had been working on the case which grew out of the disappearance of the plans of the battleship _pennsylvania_, he had had occasion to make a number of guarded inquiries in naval circles in new york, and he recalled that it had been necessary not only to show his badge, but to submit to the most searching scrutiny before he was allowed to see the men he wished to reach. he therefore felt certain that no outsider could have dug up the specific information in the short space of time at their disposal. but, arguing that it had been obtained, the way in which it had been passed on to the u-boat also presented a puzzle. was there a secret submarine base on the coast? had some german, more daring than the rest, actually come ashore and penetrated into the very lines of the service? had he laid a plan whereby he could repeat this operation as often as necessary? or did the answer lie in a concealed wireless, operating upon information supplied through underground channels? these were only a few of the questions which raced through callahan's mind. the submarine base he dismissed as impracticable. he knew that the _thor_, the _unita_, the _macedonia_, and nine other vessels had, at the beginning of the war, cleared from american ports under false papers with the intention of supplying german warships with oil, coal, and food. he also knew that, of the million and a half dollars' worth of supplies, less than one-sixth had ever been transshipped. therefore, having failed so signally here, the germans would hardly try the same scheme again. the rumor that german officers had actually come into new york, where they were supposed to have been seen in a theater, was also rather far-fetched. so the wireless theory seemed to be the most tenable. but even a wireless cannot conceal its existence from the other stations indefinitely. of course, it was possible that it might be located on some unfrequented part of the coast--but then how could the operator obtain the information which he transmitted to the u-boat? callahan gave it up in despair--for that night. he was tired and he felt that eight hours' sleep would do him more good than thrashing around with a problem for which there appeared to be no solution; a problem which, after all, he couldn't even be sure existed. maybe, he thought, drowsily, as he turned off the light--maybe the german on the u-boat was only boasting, after all--or, maybe.... the first thing jimmy did the next morning was to call upon the head of the recently organized intelligence bureau of the war department--not the intelligence division which has charge of censorship and the handling of news, but the bureau which bears the same relation to the army that the secret service does to the treasury department. "from what ports are transports sailing within the next couple of weeks?" he inquired of the officer in charge. "from boston, new york, norfolk, and charleston," was the reply--merely confirming callahan's previous belief. he had hoped that the ground would be more limited, because he wanted to have the honor of solving this problem by himself, and it was hardly possible for him to cover the entire atlantic coast. "where's the biggest ship sailing from?" was his next question. "there's one that clears norfolk at daylight on monday morning with twelve thousand men aboard...." "norfolk?" interrupted callahan. "i thought most of the big ones left from new york or boston." "so they do, generally. but these men are from virginia and north carolina. therefore it's easier to ship them right out of norfolk--saves time and congestion of the railroads. as it happens, the ship they're going on is one of the largest that will clear for ten days or more. all of the other big ones are on the other side." "then," cut in callahan, "if the germans wanted to make a ten-strike they'd lay for that boat?" "they sure would--and one torpedo well placed would make the _tuscania_ look like a sunday-school picnic. but what's the idea? got a tip that the huns are going to try to grab her?" "no, not a tip," callahan called back over his shoulder, for he was already halfway out of the door; "just a hunch--and i'm going to play it for all it's worth!" the next morning, safely ensconced at the monticello under the name of "robert p. oliver, of williamsport, pa." callahan admitted to himself that he was indeed working on nothing more than a "hunch," and not a very well-defined one at that. the only point that appeared actually to back up his theory that the information was coming from norfolk was the fact that the u-boat was known to be operating between new york and the virginia capes. new york itself was well guarded and the surrounding country was continually patrolled by operatives of all kinds. it was the logical point to watch, and therefore it would be much more difficult to obtain and transmit information there than it would be in the vicinity of norfolk, where military and naval operations were not conducted on as large a scale nor with as great an amount of secrecy. norfolk, callahan found, was rather proud of her new-found glory. for years she had basked in the social prestige of the chamberlin, the annual gathering of the fleet at hampton roads and the military pomp and ceremony attendant upon the operations of fortress monroe. but the war had brought a new thrill. norfolk was now one of the principal ports of embarkation for the men going abroad. norfolk had finally taken her rank with new york and boston--the rank to which her harbor entitled her. callahan reached norfolk on wednesday morning. the _america_, according to the information he had received from the war department, would clear at daybreak monday--but at noon on saturday the secret service operative had very little more knowledge than when he arrived. he had found that there was a rumor to the effect that two u-boats were waiting off the capes for the transport, which, of course, would have the benefit of the usual convoy. "but," as one army officer phrased it, "what's the use of a convoy if they know just where you are? germany would willingly lose a sub. or two to get us, and, with the sea that's been running for the past ten days, there'd be no hope of saving more than half the boys." spurred by the rapidity with which time was passing and the fact that he sensed a thrill of danger--an intuition of impending peril--around the _america_, callahan spent the better part of friday night and all saturday morning running down tips that proved to be groundless. a man with a german name was reported to be working in secret upon some invention in an isolated house on willoughby spit; a woman, concerning whom little was known, had been seen frequently in the company of two lieutenants slated to sail on the _america_; a house in newport news emitted strange "clacking" sounds at night. but the alleged german proved to be a photographer of unassailable loyalty, putting in extra hours trying to develop a new process of color printing. the woman came from one of the oldest families in richmond and had known the two lieutenants for years. the house in newport news proved to be the residence of a young man who hoped some day to sell a photoplay scenario, the irregular clacking noise being made by a typewriter operated none too steadily. "that's what happens to most of the 'clues' that people hand you," callahan mused as he sat before his open window on saturday evening, with less than thirty-six hours left before the _america_ was scheduled to leave. "some fellows have luck with them, but i'll be hanged if i ever did. here i'm working in the dark on a case that i'm not even positive exists. that infernal submarine may be laying off boston at this minute, waiting for the ship that leaves there tuesday. maybe they don't get any word from shore at all.... maybe they just...." but here he was brought up with a sudden jar that concentrated all his mental faculties along an entirely different road. gazing out over the lights of the city, scarcely aware that he saw them, his subconscious mind had been following for the past three minutes something apparently usual, but in reality entirely out of the ordinary. "by george!" he muttered, "i wonder...." then, taking his watch from his pocket, his eyes alternated between a point several blocks distant--a point over the roofs of the houses--and the second hand of his timepiece. less than a minute elapsed before he reached for a pencil and commenced to jot down dots and dashes on the back of an envelope. when, a quarter of an hour later, he found that the dashes had become monotonous--as he expected they would--he reached for the telephone and asked to be connected with the private wire of the navy department in washington. "let me speak to mr. thurber at once," he directed. "operative callahan, s. s., speaking.... hello! that you, thurber?... this is callahan. i'm in norfolk and i want to know whether you can read this code. you can figure it out if anybody can. ready?... dash, dash, dash, dot, dash, dash, dot--" and he continued until he had repeated the entire series of symbols that he had plucked out of the night. "sounds like a variation of the international morse," came the comment from the other end of the wire--from thurber, librarian of the navy department and one of the leading american authorities on code and ciphers. "may take a little time to figure it out, but it doesn't look difficult. where can i reach you?" "i'm at the monticello--name of robert p. oliver. put in a call for me as soon as you see the light on it. i've got something important to do right now," and he hung up without another word. a quick grab for his hat, a pat under his arm, to make sure that the holster holding the automatic was in place, and callahan was on his way downstairs. once in the street, he quickened his pace and was soon gazing skyward at the corner of two deserted thoroughfares not many blocks from the monticello. a few minutes' consultation with his watch confirmed his impression that everything was right again and he commenced his search for the night watchman. "who," he inquired of that individual, "has charge of the operation of that phonograph sign on the roof?" "doan know fuh certain, suh, but ah think it's operated by a man down the street a piece. he's got charge of a bunch of them sort o' things. mighty funny kinder way to earn a livin', ah calls it--flashing on an' off all night long...." "but where's he work from?" interrupted callahan, fearful that the negro's garrulousness might delay him unduly. "straight down this street three blocks, suh. then turn one block to yo' left and yo' cain't miss the place. electrical advertisin' headquarters they calls it. thank you, suh," and callahan was gone almost before the watchman could grasp the fact that he held a five-dollar bill instead of a dollar, as he thought. it didn't take the secret service man long to locate the place he sought, and on the top floor he found a dark, swarthy individual bending over the complicated apparatus which operated a number of the electric signs throughout the city. before the other knew it, callahan was in the room--his back to the door and his automatic ready for action. "up with your hands!" snapped callahan. "higher! that's better. now tell me where you got that information you flashed out to sea to-night by means of that phonograph sign up the street. quick! i haven't any time to waste." "_si, si, señor_," stammered the man who faced him. "but i understand not the english very well." "all right," countered callahan. "let's try it in spanish," and he repeated his demands in that language. volubly the spaniard--or mexican, as he later turned out to be--maintained that he had received no information, nor had he transmitted any. he claimed his only duty was to watch the "drums" which operated the signs mechanically. "no drum in the world could make that sign flash like it did to-night," callahan cut in. "for more than fifteen minutes you sent a variation of the morse code seaward. come on--i'll give you just one minute to tell me, or i'll bend this gun over your head." before the minute had elapsed, the mexican commenced his confession. he had been paid a hundred dollars a week, he claimed, to flash a certain series of signals every saturday night, precisely at nine o'clock. the message itself--a series of dots and dashes which he produced from his pocket as evidence of his truthfulness--had reached him on saturday morning for the two preceding weeks. he didn't know what it meant. all he did was to disconnect the drum which operated the sign and move the switch himself. payment for each week's work, he stated, was inclosed with the next week's message. where it came from he didn't know, but the envelope was postmarked washington. with his revolver concealed in his coat pocket, but with its muzzle in the small of the mexican's back, callahan marched his captive back to the hotel and up into his room. as he opened the door the telephone rang out, and, ordering the other to stand with his face to the wall in a corner--"and be damn sure not to make a move"--the government agent answered the call. as he expected, it was thurber. "the code's a cinch," came the voice over the wire from washington. "but the message is infernally important. it's in german, and evidently you picked it up about two sentences from the start. the part you gave me states that the transport _america_, with twelve thousand men aboard, will leave norfolk at daylight monday. the route the ship will take is distinctly stated, as is the personnel of her convoy. where'd you get the message?" "flashes in the night," answered callahan. "i noticed that an electric sign wasn't behaving regularly--so i jotted down its signals and passed them on to you. the next important point is whether the message is complete enough for you to reconstruct the code. have you got all the letters?" "yes, every one of them." "then take down this message, put it into that dot-and-dash code and send it to me by special messenger on one of the navy torpedo boats to-night. it's a matter of life and death to thousands of men!" and callahan dictated three sentences over the wire. "got that?" he inquired. "good! get busy and hurry it down. i've got to have it in the morning." "turn around," he directed the mexican, as he replaced the receiver. "were you to send these messages only on saturday night?" "_si, señor._ save that i was told that there might be occasions when i had to do the same thing on sunday night, too." "at nine o'clock?" "_si, señor._" callahan smiled. things were breaking better than he had dared hope. it meant that the u-boat would be watching for the signal the following night. then, with proper emphasis of the automatic, he gave the mexican his orders. he was to return to his office with callahan and go about his business as usual, with the certainty that if he tried any foolishness the revolver could act more quickly than he. accompanied by the government agent, he was to come back to the monticello and spend the night in callahan's room, remaining there until the next evening when he would--promptly at nine o'clock and under the direction of an expert in telegraphy--send the message which callahan would hand him. that's practically all there is to the story. * * * * * "all?" i echoed, when quinn paused. "what do you mean, 'all'? what was the message callahan sent? what happened to the mexican? who sent the letter and the money from washington?" "nothing much happened to the mexican," replied my informant, with a smile. "they found that he was telling the truth, so they just sent him over the border with instructions not to show himself north of the rio grande. as for the letter--that took the post office, the department of justice, and the secret service the better part of three months to trace. but they finally located the sender, two weeks after she (yes, it was a woman, and a darned pretty one at that) had made her getaway. i understand they got her in england and sentenced her to penal servitude for some twenty years or more. in spite of the war, the anglo-saxon race hasn't completely overcome its prejudice against the death penalty for women." "but the message callahan sent?" i persisted. "that was short and to the point. as i recall it, it ran something like this: 'urgent--route of _america_ changed. she clears at daylight, but takes a course exactly ten miles south of one previously stated. be there." "the u-boat was there, all right. but so were four hydroplanes and half a dozen destroyers, all carrying the stars and stripes!" ii the mint mystery "mr drummond! wire for mr. drummond! mr. drummond, please!" it was the monotonous, oft-repeated call of a western union boy--according to my friend bill quinn, formerly of the united states secret service--that really was responsible for solving the mystery which surrounded the disappearance of $ , in gold from the philadelphia mint. "the boy himself didn't have a thing to do with the gold or the finding of it," admitted quinn, "but his persistence was responsible for locating drummond, of the secret service, just as he was about to start on a well-earned vacation in the maine woods. uncle sam's sleuths don't get any too much time off, you know, and a month or so in a part of the world where they don't know anything about international intrigues and don't care about counterfeiting is a blessing not to be despised. "that's the reason the boy had to be persistent when he was paging drummond. "the operative had a hunch that it was a summons to another case and he was dog tired. but the boy kept singing out the name through the train and finally landed his man, thus being indirectly responsible for the solution of a mystery that might have remained unsolved for weeks--and incidentally saved the government nearly every cent of the one hundred and thirty thousand dollars." * * * * * when drummond opened the telegram [continued quinn] he found that it was a summons to philadelphia, signed by hamlin, assistant secretary of the treasury. "preston needs you at once. extremely important," read the wire--and, as drummond was fully aware that preston was director of the united states mint, it didn't take much deduction to figure that something had gone wrong in the big building on spring garden street where a large part of the country's money is coined. but even the lure of the chase--something you read a lot about in detective stories, but find too seldom in the real hard work of tracing criminals--did not offset drummond's disappointment in having to defer his vacation. grumbling, he gathered his bags and cut across new york to the pennsylvania station, where he was fortunate enough to be able to make a train on the point of leaving for philadelphia. at the mint he found director preston and superintendent bosbyshell awaiting him. "mr. hamlin wired that he had instructed you to come up at once," said the director. "but we had hardly hoped that you could make it so soon." "wire reached me on board a train that would have pulled out of grand central station in another three minutes," growled drummond. "i was on my way to maine to forget all about work for a month. but," and his face broke into a smile, "since they did find me, what's the trouble?" "trouble enough," replied the director. "some hundred and thirty thousand dollars in gold is missing from the mint!" "what!" even drummond was shaken out of his professional calm, not to mention his grouch. robbery of the united states treasury or one of the government mints was a favorite dream with criminals, but--save for the memorable occasion when a gang was found trying to tunnel under fifteenth street in washington--there had been no time when the scheme was more than visionary. "are you certain? isn't there any chance for a mistake?" the questions were perfunctory, rather than hopeful. "unfortunately, not the least," continued preston. "somebody has made away with a hundred and thirty thousand dollars worth of the government's money. seven hundred pounds of gold is missing and there isn't a trace to show how or where it went. the vault doors haven't been tampered with. the combination of the grille inside the vault is intact. everything, apparently, is as it should be--but fifty bars of gold are missing." "and each bar," mused drummond, "weighs--" "fourteen pounds," cut in the superintendent. drummond looked at him in surprise. "i beg your pardon," said preston. "this is mr. bosbyshell, superintendent of the mint. this thing has gotten on my nerves so that i didn't have the common decency to introduce you. mr. bosbyshell was with me when we discovered that the gold was missing." "when was that?" "yesterday afternoon," replied the director. "every now and then--at irregular intervals--we weigh all the gold in the mint, to make sure that everything is as it should be. nothing wrong was discovered until we reached vault six, but there fifty bars were missing. there wasn't any chance of error. the records showed precisely how much should have been there and the scales showed how much there was, to the fraction of an ounce. "but even if we had only counted the bars, instead of weighing each one separately, the theft would have been instantly discovered, for the vault contained exactly fifty bars less than it should have. it was then that i wired washington and asked for assistance from the secret service." "thus spoiling my vacation," muttered drummond. "how many men know the combination to the vault door?" "only two," replied the superintendent. "cochrane, who is the official weigher, and myself. cochrane is above suspicion. he's been here for the past thirty years and there hasn't been a single complaint against him in all that time." drummond looked as if he would like to ask preston if the same could be said for the superintendent, but he contented himself with listening as bosbyshell continued: "but even if cochrane or i--yes, i'm just as much to be suspected as he--could have managed to open the vault door unseen, we could not have gotten inside the iron grille which guards the gold in the interior of the vault. that is always kept locked, with a combination known to two other men only. there's too much gold in each one of these vaults to take any chance with, which is the reason for this double protection. two men--cochrane and i--handle the combination to the vault door and open it whenever necessary. two others--jamison and strubel--are the only ones that know how to open the grille door. one of them has to be present whenever the bars are put in or taken away, for the men who can get inside the vault cannot enter the grille, and the men who can manipulate the grille door can't get into the vault." "it certainly sounds like a burglar-proof combination," commented drummond. "is there any possibility for conspiracy between"--and he hesitated for the fraction of a second--"between cochrane and either of the men who can open the grille door?" "apparently not the least in the world," replied preston. "so far as we know they are all as honest as the day--" "but the fact remains," drummond interrupted, "that the gold is missing." "exactly--but the grille door was sealed with the official governmental stamp when we entered the vault yesterday. that stamp is applied only in the presence of both men who know the combination. so the conspiracy, if there be any, must have included cochrane, strubel, and jamison--instead of being a two-man job." "how much gold did you say was missing?" inquired the treasury operative, taking another tack. "seven hundred pounds--fifty bars of fourteen pounds each," answered bosbyshell. "that's another problem that defies explanation. how could one man carry away all that gold without being seen? he'd need a dray to cart it off, and we're very careful about what goes out of the mint. there's a guard at the front door all the time, and no one is allowed to leave with a package of any kind until it has been examined and passed." a grunt was drummond's only comment--and those who knew the secret service man best would have interpreted the sound to mean studious digestion of facts, rather than admission of even temporary defeat. it was one of the government detective's pet theories that every crime, no matter how puzzling, could be solved by application of common-sense principles and the rules of logic. "the criminal with brains," he was fond of saying, "will deliberately try to throw you off the scent. then you've got to take your time and separate the wheat from the chaff--the false leads from the true. but the man who commits a crime on the spur of the moment--or who flatters himself that he hasn't left a single clue behind--is the one who's easy to catch. the cleverest crook in the world can't enter a room without leaving his visiting card in some way or other. it's up to you to find that card and read the name on it. and common sense is the best reading glass." requesting that his mission be kept secret, drummond said that he would like to examine vault no. six. "let cochrane open the vault for me and then have jamison and strubel open the grille," he directed. "unless mr. bosbyshell opened the vault door," preston reminded him, "there's no one but cochrane who could do it. it won't be necessary, however, to have either of the others open the grille--the door was taken from its hinges this morning in order the better to examine the place and it hasn't yet been replaced." "all right," agreed drummond. "let's have cochrane work the outer combination, then. i'll have a look at the other two later." accompanied by the director and the superintendent, drummond made his way to the basement where they were joined by the official weigher, a man well over fifty, who was introduced by preston to "mr. drummond, a visitor who is desirous of seeing the vaults." "i understand that you are the only man who can open them," said the detective. "suppose we look into this one," as he stopped, as if by accident, before vault no. . cochrane, without a word, bent forward and commenced to twirl the combination. a few spins to the right, a few to the left, back to the right, to the left once more--and he pulled at the heavy door expectantly. but it failed to budge. again he bent over the combination, spinning it rapidly. still the door refused to open. "i'm afraid i'll have to ask you to help me with this, superintendent," cochrane said, finally. "it doesn't seem to work, somehow." but, under bosbyshell's manipulation, the door swung back almost instantly. "nothing wrong with the combination," commented preston. drummond smiled. "has the combination been changed recently?" he asked. "not for the past month," bosbyshell replied. "we usually switch all of them six times a year, just as a general precaution--but this has been the same for the past few weeks. ever since the fifteenth of last month, to be precise." inside the vault drummond found that, as preston had stated, the door to the grille had been taken from its hinges, to facilitate the work of the men who had weighed the gold, and had not been replaced. "where are the gold bars?" asked the detective. "the place looks like it had been well looted." "they were all taken out this morning, to be carefully weighed," was preston's reply. "i'd like to see some of them stacked up there along the side of the grille, if it isn't too much trouble." "surely," said bosbyshell. "i'll have the men bring them in at once." as soon as the superintendent had left the room, drummond requested that the door of the grille be placed in its usual position, and cochrane set it up level with the floor, leaning against the supports at the side. "is that the way it always stays?" inquired the secret service man. "no, sir, but it's pretty heavy to handle, and i thought you just wanted to get a general idea of things." "i'd like to see it in place, if you don't mind. here, i'll help you with it--but we better slip our coats off, for it looks like a man's-sized job," and he removed his coat as he spoke. after cochrane had followed his example, the two of them hung the heavy door from its hinges and stepped back to get the effect. but drummond's eyes were fixed, not upon the entrance to the grille, but on the middle of cochrane's back, and, when the opportunity offered an instant later, he shifted his gaze to the waist of the elder man's trousers. something that he saw there caused the shadow of a smile to flit across his face. "thanks," he said. "that will do nicely," and he made a quick gesture to preston that he would like to have cochrane leave the vault. "very much obliged, mr. cochrane," said the director. "we won't bother you any more. you might ask those men to hurry in with the bars, if you will." and the weigher, pausing only to secure his coat, left the vault. "why all the stage setting?" inquired preston. "you don't suspect...." "i don't suspect a thing," drummond smiled, searching for his own coat, "beyond the fact that the solution to the mystery is so simple as to be almost absurd. by the way, have you noticed those scratches on the bars of the grille, about four feet from the floor?" "no, i hadn't," admitted the director. "but what of them? these vaults aren't new, you know, and i dare say you'd find similar marks on the grille bars in any of the others." "i hope not," drummond replied, grimly, "for that would almost certainly mean a shortage of gold in other sections of the mint. incidentally, has all the rest of the gold been weighed?" "every ounce of it." "nothing missing?" "outside of the seven hundred pounds from this vault, not a particle." "good--then i'll be willing to lay a small wager that you can't find the duplicates of these scratches anywhere else in the mint." and drummond smiled at the director's perplexity. when the men arrived with a truck loaded with gold bars, they stacked them--at the superintendent's direction--along the side of the grille nearest the vault entrance. "is that the way they are usually arranged?" inquired drummond. "yes--the grille bars are of tempered steel and the openings between them are too small to permit anyone to put his hand through. therefore, as we are somewhat pressed for space, we stack them up right along the outer wall of the grille and then work back. it saves time and labor in bringing them in." "is this the way the door of the grille ordinarily hangs?" bosbyshell inspected it a moment before he replied. "yes," he said. "it appears to be all right. it was purposely made to swing clear of the floor and the ceiling so that it might not become jammed. the combination and the use of the seal prevents its being opened by anyone who has no business in the grille." "and the seal was intact when you came in yesterday afternoon?" "it was." "thanks," said drummond; "that was all i wanted to know," and he made his way upstairs with a smile which seemed to say that his vacation in the maine woods had not been indefinitely postponed. once back in the director's office, the government operative asked permission to use the telephone, and, calling the philadelphia office of the secret service, requested that three agents be assigned to meet him down town as soon as possible. "have you a record of the home address of the people employed in the mint?" drummond inquired of the director, as he hung up the receiver. "surely," said preston, producing a typewritten list from the drawer of his desk. "i'll borrow this for a while, if i may. i'll probably be back with it before three o'clock--and bring some news with me, too," and the operative was out of the room before preston could frame a single question. as a matter of fact, the clock in the director's office pointed to two-thirty when drummond returned, accompanied by the three men who had been assigned to assist him. "have you discovered anything?" preston demanded. "let's have cochrane up here first," drummond smiled. "i can't be positive until i've talked to him. you might have the superintendent in, too. he'll be interested in developments, i think." bosbyshell was the first to arrive, and, at drummond's request, took up a position on the far side of the room. as soon as he had entered, two of the other secret service men ranged themselves on the other side of the doorway and, the moment cochrane came in, closed the door behind him. "cochrane," said drummond, "what did you do with the seven hundred pounds of gold that you took from vault no. six during the past few weeks?" "what--what--" stammered the weigher. "there's no use bluffing," continued the detective. "we've got the goods on you. the only thing missing is the gold itself, and the sooner you turn it over the more lenient the government will be with you. i know how you got the bars out of the grille--a piece of bent wire was sufficient to dislodge them from the top of the pile nearest the grille bars and it was easy to slip them under the door. no wonder the seal was never tampered with. it wasn't necessary for you to go inside the grille at all. "but, more than that, i know how you carried the bars, one at a time, out of the mint. it took these three men less than an hour this afternoon to find the tailor who fixed the false pocket in the front of your trousers--the next time you try a job of this kind you better attend to all these details yourself--and it needed only one look at your suspenders this morning to see that they were a good deal wider and heavier than necessary. that long coat you are in the habit of wearing is just the thing to cover up any suspicious bulge in your garments and the guard at the door, knowing you, would never think of telling you to stop unless you carried a package or something else contrary to orders. "the people in your neighborhood say that they've seen queer bluish lights in the basement of your house on woodland avenue. so i suspect you've been melting that gold up and hiding it somewhere, ready for a quick getaway. "yes, cochrane, we've got the goods on you and if you want to save half of a twenty-year sentence--which at your age means life--come across with the information. where is the gold?" "in the old sewer pipe," faltered the weigher, who appeared to have aged ten years while drummond was speaking. "in the old sewer pipe that leads from my basement." "good!" exclaimed drummond. "i think mr. preston will use his influence with the court to see that your sentence isn't any heavier than necessary. it's worth that much to guard the mint against future losses of the same kind, isn't it, mr. director?" "it surely is," replied preston. "but how in the name of heaven did you get the answer so quickly?" drummond delayed his answer until cochrane, accompanied by the three secret service men, had left the room. then-- "nothing but common sense," he said. "you remember those scratches i called your attention to--the ones on the side of the grille bars? they were a clear indication of the way in which the gold had been taken from the grille--knocked down from the top of the pile with a piece of wire and pulled under the door of the grille. that eliminated jamison and strubel immediately. they needn't have gone to that trouble, even if it had been possible for them to get into the vault in the first place. "but i had my suspicions of cochrane when he was unable to open the vault door. that pointed to nervousness, and nervousness indicated a guilty conscience. i made the hanging of the grille door an excuse to get him to shed his coat--though i did want to see whether the door came all the way down to the floor--and i noted that his suspenders were very broad and his trousers abnormally wide around the waist. he didn't want to take any chances with that extra fourteen pounds of gold, you know. it would never do to drop it in the street. "the rest is merely corroborative. i found that bluish lights had been observed in the basement of cochrane's house, and one of my men located the tailor who had enlarged his trousers. that's really all there was to it." with that drummond started to the door, only to be stopped by director preston's inquiry as to where he was going. "on my vacation, which you interrupted this morning," replied the secret service man. "it's a good thing i did," preston called after him. "if cochrane had really gotten away with that gold we might never have caught him." * * * * * "which," as bill quinn said, when he finished his narrative, "is the reason i claim that the telegraph boy who persisted in paging drummond is the one who was really responsible for the saving of some hundred and thirty thousand dollars that belonged to uncle sam." "but, surely," i said, "that case was an exception. in rapidity of action, i mean. don't governmental investigations usually take a long time?" "frequently," admitted quinn, "they drag on and on for months--sometimes years. but it's seldom that uncle sam fails to land his man--even though the trail leads into the realms of royalty, as in the ypiranga case. that happened before the world war opened, but it gave the state department a mighty good line on what to expect from germany." iii the ypiranga case "mexico," said bill quinn, who now holds a soft berth in the treasury department by virtue of an injury received in the line of duty--during a raid on counterfeiters a few years ago, to be precise--"is back on the first page of the papers again after being crowded off for some four years because of the world war. funny coincidence, that, when you remember that it was this same mexico that gave us our first indication of the way we might expect germany to behave." "huh?" i said, a bit startled. "what do you mean? the first spark of the war was kindled in serbia, not mexico. outside of the rumblings of the algeciras case and one or two other minor affairs, there wasn't the slightest indication of the conflict to come." "no?" and quinn's eyebrows went up in interrogation. "how about the ypiranga case?" "the which?" "the ypiranga case--the one where jack stewart stumbled across a clue in a mexico city café which led all the way to berlin and back to washington and threatened to precipitate a row before the kaiser was quite ready for it?" "no," i admitted, "that's a page of underground history that i haven't read--and i must confess that i don't know stewart, either." "probably not," said the former secret service man. "he wasn't connected with any of the branches of the government that get into print very often. as a matter of fact, the very existence of the organization to which he belonged isn't given any too much publicity. everyone knows of the secret service and the men who make the investigations for the department of justice and the post-office department--but the department of state, for obvious reasons, conducts its inquiries in a rather more diplomatic manner. its agents have to pose as commercial investigators, or something else equally as prosaic. their salaries are, as a general thing, paid out of the president's private allowance or out of the fund given to the department 'for use as it may see fit.' less than half a dozen people know the actual status of the organization or the names of its members at any one time, and its exploits are recorded only in the archives of the state department." "but who," i persisted, as quinn stopped, "was jack stewart and what was the nature of the affair upon which he stumbled in mexico city?" * * * * * stewart [replied quinn] was just a quiet, ordinary sort of chap, the kind that you'd expect to find behind a desk in the state department, sorting out consular reports and handling routine stuff. nothing exceptional about him at all--which was probably one reason for his being selected for work as a secret agent of the department. it doesn't do, you know, to pick men who are conspicuous, either in their dress or manner. too easy to spot and remember them. the chap who's swallowed up in the crowd is the one who can get by with a whole lot of quiet work without being suspected. when they sent jack down to mexico they didn't have the slightest idea he'd uncover anything as big as he did. the country south of the rio grande, if you recall, had been none too quiet for some time prior to . taft had had his troubles with it ever since the end of the diaz regime, and when wilson came in the "mexican question" was a legacy that caused the men in the state department to spend a good many sleepless nights. all sorts of rumors, most of them wild and bloody, floated up through official and unofficial channels. the one fact that seemed to be certain was that mexico was none too friendly to the united states, and that some other nation was behind this feeling, keeping it constantly stirred up and overlooking no opportunity to add fuel to the flame. three or four other members of the state department's secret organization had been wandering around picking up leads for some months past and, upon the return of one of these to washington, stewart was sent to replace him. his instructions were simple and delightfully indefinite. he was to proceed to mexico city, posing as the investigator for a financial house in new york which was on the lookout for a soft concession from the mexican government. this would give him an opportunity to seek the acquaintance of mexican officials and lend an air of plausibility to practically any line that he found it necessary to follow. but, once at the capital with his alibis well established, he was to overlook nothing which might throw light upon the question that had been bothering washington for some time past--just which one of the foreign powers was fanning the mexican unrest and to what lengths it was prepared to go? of course, the state department suspected--just as we now know--that berlin was behind the movement, but at that time there was no indication of the reason. in the light of later events, however, the plan is plain. germany, feeling certain that the greatest war europe had ever known was a matter of the immediate future, was laying her plans to keep other nations out of the conflict. she figured that mexico was the best foil for the united states and that our pitifully small army would have its hands full with troubles at home. if not, she intended to let japan enter into the equation--as shown by the zimmerman note some two years later. when stewart got to mexico city, it did not take him long to discover that there was an undercurrent of animosity to the united states which made itself felt in numberless ways. some of the mexican papers, apparently on a stronger financial basis than ever before, were outspoken in their criticism of american dollars and american dealings. the people as a whole, long dominated by diaz, were being stirred to resentment of the "gringoes," who "sought to purchase the soul of a nation as well as its mineral wealth." the improvements which american capital had made were entirely overlooked, and the spotlight of subsidized publicity was thrown upon the encroachments of the hated yankees. all this stewart reported to washington, and in reply was politely informed that, while interesting, it was hardly news. the state department had known all this for months. the question was: where was the money coming from and what was the immediate object of the game? "take your time and don't bother us unless you find something definite to report," was the substance of the instructions cabled to stewart. the secret agent, therefore, contented himself with lounging around the very inviting cafés of the mexican capital and making friends with such officials as might be able to drop scraps of information. it was november when he first hit mexico city. it was nearly the middle of april before he picked up anything at all worth while. of course, in the meantime he had uncovered a number of leads--but every one of them was blind. for a day or two, or a week at most, they would hold out glowing promise of something big just around the corner. then, when he got to the end of the rainbow, he would find an empty pail in place of the pot of gold he had hoped for. it wasn't surprising, therefore, that stewart was growing tired of the life of continual mystery, of developments that never developed, of secrets that were empty and surprises that faded away into nothing. it was on the th of april, while seated at a little table in front of a sidewalk café on the calles de victoria, that the american agent obtained his first real clue to the impending disaster. when two mexicans whom he knew by sight, but not by name, sat down at a table near his he pricked up his ears purely by instinct, rather than through any real hope of obtaining information of value. the arrival of the usual sugared drinks was followed by a few words of guarded conversation, and then one of the mexicans remarked, in a tone a trifle louder than necessary, that "the united states is a nation of cowardly women, dollar worshipers who are afraid to fight, and braggarts who would not dare to back up their threats." it was an effort for stewart to remain immersed in the newspaper propped up in front of him. often as he had heard these sentiments expressed, his southern blood still rose involuntarily--until his logic reminded him that his mission was not to start a quarrel, but to end one. he knew that no good could ensue from his taking up the challenge, and the very fact that the speaker had raised his voice gave him the tip that the words were uttered for his especial benefit, to find out whether he understood spanish--for he made no attempt to disguise his nationality. with a smile which did not show on his lips, stewart summoned the waiter and in atrocious spanish ordered another glass of lemonade. his complete knowledge of the language was the one thing which he had managed to keep entirely under cover ever since reaching mexico, for he figured that the natives would speak more freely in his presence if they believed he could not gather what they were discussing. the trick worked to perfection. "pig-headed yankee," commented the mexican who had first spoken. "lemonade! pah!--they haven't the nerve to take a man's drink!" and he drained his glass of _pulque_ at a single gulp. the other, who had not spoken above a whisper, raised his glass and regarded it in silence for a moment. then--"prosit," he said, and drank. "_nom di dio_," warned his companion. "be careful! the american hog does not speak spanish well enough to understand those who use it fluently, but he may speak german." stewart smothered a smile behind his paper. spanish had always been a hobby of his--but he only knew about three words in german! "i understand," continued the mexican, "that victoriano is preparing for the coup, just as i always figured he would" (stewart knew that "victoriano" was the familiar form in which the populace referred to victoriano huerta, self-appointed president of mexico and the man who had steadfastly defied the american government in every way possible, taking care not to allow matters to reach such a hot stage that he could handle them through diplomatic promises to see that things "improved in the future"). "_el presidente_ has always been careful to protect himself"--the speaker went on--"but now that you have brought definite assurance from our friends that the money and the arms will be forthcoming within the fortnight there is nothing further to fear from the yankee pigs. it will be easy to stir up sentiment against them here overnight, and before they can mass their handful of troops along the rio grande we will have retaken texas and wiped out the insult of 'forty-eight. what is the latest news from the ship?" "the ----?" inquired the man across the table, but his teutonic intonation of what was evidently a spanish name was so jumbled that all stewart could catch was the first syllable--something that sounded like "_eep_." "is that the name?" asked the mexican. "yes," replied the other. "she sailed from hamburg on the seventh. allowing two weeks for the passage--she isn't fast, you know--that would bring her into vera cruz about the twenty-first. once there, the arms can be landed and...." the events of the next few minutes moved so rapidly that, when stewart had time to catch his breath, he found it difficult to reconstruct the affair with accuracy. he recalled that he had been so interested in the conversation at the next table that he had failed to notice the approach of the only other man he knew in the state department's secret organization--dawson, who had been prowling around the west coast on an errand similar to his. before he knew it dawson had clapped him on the back and exclaimed: "hello, jack! didn't expect to see you here--thought you'd be looking over things in the vicinity of the palace." the words themselves were innocent enough, but--they were spoken in fluent, rapid spanish and stewart had shown that he understood! "_sapristi!_" hissed the mexican. "did you see?" and he bent forward to whisper hurriedly to his companion. stewart recovered himself instantly, but the damage had been done. "hello, dawson," he answered in english, trusting that the men at the next table had not noted his slip. "sit down and have something? rotten weather, isn't it? and not a lead in sight. these mexicans seem to be afraid to enter into any contract that ties them up more than a year--and eighteen revolutions can happen in that time." as dawson seated himself, stewart gave him a hasty sign to be careful. watching the mexican and his companion out of the corner of his eye, he steered the conversation into harmless channels, but a moment later the pair at the next table called the waiter, gave some whispered instructions, and left. "what's the matter?" asked dawson. "nothing--except that i involuntarily registered a knowledge of spanish when you spoke to me just now, and i've spent several months building up a reputation for knowing less about the language than anyone in mexico city. as luck would have it, there was a couple seated at the next table who were giving me what sounded like the first real dope i've had since i got here. i'll tell you about it later. the question now is to get back to the hotel before that precious pair get in their dirty work. a code message to washington is all i ask--but, if i'm not mistaken, we are going to have our work cut out for us on the way back." "scott! serious as that, is it?" muttered dawson. "well, there are two of us and i'd like to see their whole dam' army try to stop us. let's go!" "wait a minute," counseled stewart. "there's no real hurry, for they wouldn't dare try to start anything in the open. in case we get separated or--if anything should happen--wire the department in code that a vessel with a spanish name--something that begins with 'eep'--has cleared hamburg, loaded with guns and ammunition. expected at vera cruz about the twenty-first. germany's behind the whole plot. now i'll settle up and we'll move." but as he reached for his pocketbook a mexican swaggering along the sidewalk deliberately stumbled against his chair and sent him sprawling. dawson was on his feet in an instant, his fists clenched and ready for action. but stewart had noted that the mexican had three companions and that one of the men who had occupied the adjoining table was watching the affair from a vantage point half a block away. with a leap that was catlike in its agility, stewart seized the swaggering native by the legs in a football tackle, and upset him against his assistants. "quick, this way!" he called to dawson, starting up the street away from the watcher at the far corner. as he ran, his hand slipped into his coat pocket where the small, but extremely efficient, automatic with which all government agents are supplied usually rested. but the gun wasn't there! apparently it had slipped out in the scuffle a moment before. hardly had he realized that he was unarmed before he and dawson were confronted by five other natives coming from the opposite direction. the meager lighting system of the mexican capital, however, was rather a help than a detriment, for in the struggle which followed it was practically impossible to tell friend from foe. the two americans, standing shoulder to shoulder, had the added advantage of teamwork--something which the natives had never learned. "don't use your gun if you can help it," stewart warned. "we don't want the police in on this!" as he spoke his fist shot out and the leader of the attacking party sprawled in the street. no sound came from dawson, beyond a grunt, as he landed on the man he had singled out of the bunch. the ten seconds that followed were jammed with action, punctuated with the shrill cries for reinforcements from the mexicans, and brightened here and there by the dull light from down the street which glinted off the long knives--the favorite weapon of the latin-american fighter. stewart and dawson realized that they must not only fight, but fight fast. every second brought closer the arrival of help from the rear, but dawson waited until he could hear the reinforcements almost upon them before he gave the word to break through. then-- "come on, jack!" he called. "let's go!" heads down, fists moving with piston-like precision, the two americans plowed their way through. dawson swore later that he felt at least one rib give under the impact of the blows and he knew that he nursed a sore wrist for days, but stewart claimed that his energies were concentrated solely on the scrap and that he didn't have time to receive any impression of what was going on. he knew that he had to fight his way out--that it was essential for one of them to reach the telegraph office or the embassy with the news they carried. it was a case of fight like the devil and trust to luck and the darkness for aid. almost before they knew it, they had broken through the trio in front of them and had turned down the calles ancha, running in a form that would have done credit to a college track team. behind them they heard the muffled oaths of their pursuers as they fell over the party they had just left. "they don't want to attract the police any more than we do," gasped dawson. "they don't dare shoot!" but as he spoke there came the z-z-i-pp of a bullet, accompanied by the sharp crack of a revolver somewhere behind them. "careful," warned stewart. "we've got to skirt that street light ahead. duck and--" but with that he crumpled up, a bullet through his hip. without an instant's hesitation dawson stooped, swung his companion over his shoulder, and staggered on, his right hand groping for his automatic. once out of the glare of the arc light, he felt that he would be safe, at least for a moment. then, clattering toward them, he heard a sound that spelled safety--one of the open nighthawk cabs that prowl around the streets of the mexican capital. shifting stewart so that his feet rested on the ground, he wheeled and raked the street behind him with a fusillade from his automatic. there was only a dull mass of whitish clothing some fifty yards away at which to aim, but he knew that the counter-attack would probably gain a few precious seconds of time--time sufficient to stop the cab and to put his plan into operation. the moment the cab came into the circle of light from the street lamp dawson dragged his companion toward it, seized the horse's bridle with his free hand and ordered the driver to halt. before the cabby had recovered his wits the two americans were in the vehicle and dawson had his revolver pressed none too gently into the small of the driver's back. the weapon was empty, but the mexican didn't know that, and he responded instantly to dawson's order to turn around and drive "as if seventy devils of hades were after him!" outside of a few stray shots that followed as they disappeared up the street, the drive to the embassy was uneventful, and, once under the shelter of the american flag, the rest was easy. stewart, it developed, had sustained only a flesh wound through the muscles of his hip--painful, but not dangerous. within ten minutes after he had reached o'shaughnessy's office he was dictating a code wire to washington--a cable which stated that a vessel with a spanish name, commencing with something that sounded like "eep," had cleared hamburg on the seventh, loaded with arms and ammunition destined to advance the interests of mexican revolutionists and to hamper the efforts of the united states to preserve order south of the border. the wire reached washington at noon of the following day and was instantly transmitted to berlin, with instructions to ambassador gerard to look into the matter and report immediately. vessel in question is probably the _ypiranga_ [stated a code the following morning]. cleared hamburg on date mentioned, presumably loaded with grain. rumors here of large shipment of arms to some latin american republic. practically certain that wilhelmstrasse is behind the move, but impossible to obtain confirmation. motive unknown. ten minutes after this message had been decoded the newspaper correspondents at the white house noted that a special cabinet meeting had been called, but no announcement was made of its purpose or of the business transacted, beyond the admission that "the insult to the flag at tampico had been considered." promptly at noon the great wireless station at arlington flashed a message to admiral mayo, in command of the squadron off the mexican coast. in effect, it read: proceed immediately to vera cruz. await arrival of steamer _ypiranga_, loaded with arms. prevent landing at any cost. blockade upon pretext of recent insult to flag. atlantic fleet ordered to your support. * * * * * "the rest of the story," concluded quinn, "is a matter of history. how the fleet bottled up the harbor at vera cruz, how it was forced to send a landing party ashore under fire, and how seventeen american sailors lost their lives during the guerrilla attack which followed. all that was spread across the front pages of american papers in big black type--but the fact that a steamer named the _ypiranga_ had been held up by the american fleet and forced to anchor at a safe distance offshore, under the guns of the flagship, was given little space. apparently it was a minor incident--but in reality it was the crux of the whole situation, an indication of germany's rancor, which was to burst its bounds before four months had passed, another case in which the arm of uncle sam had been long enough to stretch halfway across a continent and nip impending disaster." "but," i inquired, as he paused, "what became of dawson and stewart?" "that i don't know," replied quinn. "the last time i heard of jack he had a captain's commission in france and was following up his feud with the hun that started in mexico city four months before the rest of the world dreamed of war. dawson, i believe, is still in the department, and rendered valuable assistance in combating german propaganda in chile and peru. he'll probably be rewarded with a consular job in some out-of-the-way hole, for, now that the war is over, the organization to which he belongs will gradually dwindle to its previous small proportions. "strange, wasn't it, how that pair stumbled across one of the first tentacles of the world war in front of a café in mexico city? that's one beauty of government detective work--you never know when the monotony is going to be blown wide open by the biggest thing you ever happened upon. "there was little mary mcnilless, who turned up the clue which prevented an explosion, compared to which the black tom affair would have been a sunday-school party. she never dreamed that she would prevent the loss of millions of dollars' worth of property and at least a score of lives, but she did--without moving from her desk." "how?" i asked. but quinn yawned, looked at his watch, and said: "that's entirely too long a story to spin right now. it's past my bedtime, and mrs. quinn's likely to be fussy if i'm not home by twelve at least. she says that now i have an office job she can at least count on my being round to guard the house--something that she never could do before. so let's leave mary for another time. goodnight"--and he was off. iv the clue on shelf "of course, it is possible that patriotism might have prompted mary mcnilless to locate the clue which prevented an explosion that would have seriously hampered the munitions industry of the united states--but the fact remains that she did it principally because she was in love with dick walters, and dick happened to be in the secret service. it was one case where cupid scored over mars." bill quinn eased the game leg which he won as the trophy of a counterfeiting raid some years before into a more comfortable position, reached for his pipe and tobacco pouch, and settled himself for another reminiscence of the service with which he had formerly been actively connected. "mary was--and doubtless still is--one of those red-headed, blue-eyed irish beauties whom nature has peppered with just enough freckles to make them alluring, evidences that the sun itself couldn't help kissing her. but, from all i've been able to gather, the sun was in a class by itself. until dick walters came upon the scene, miss mcnilless held herself strictly aloof from masculine company and much preferred to spend an evening with her books than to take a trip to coney or any of the other resorts where a girl's kisses pass as current coin in payment for three or four hours' outing. "dick was just the kind of chap that would have appealed to mary, or to 'most any other girl, for that matter. maybe you remember him. he used to be at the white house during taft's regime, but they shifted most of the force soon after wilson came in and dick was sent out to the coast on an opium hunt that kept him busy for more than a year. in fact, he came east just in time to be assigned to the von ewald case--and, incidentally, to fall foul of mary and cupid, a pair that you couldn't tie, much less beat." * * * * * the von ewald case [quinn continued, after pausing a moment to repack his pipe] was one of the many exploits of the secret service that never got in the papers. to be strictly truthful, it wasn't as much a triumph for the s. s. as it was for mary mcnilless--and, besides, we weren't at war with germany at that time, so it had to be kept rather dark. but germany was at war with us. you remember the black tom explosion in august, nineteen sixteen? well, if the plans of von ewald and his associates hadn't been frustrated by a little red-headed girl with exceptional powers of observation, there would have been a detonation in wilmington, delaware, that would have made the black tom affair, with its damage of thirty millions of dollars, sound like the college yell of a deaf-and-dumb institute. as far back as january, nineteen sixteen, the secret service knew that there were a number of germans in new york who desired nothing so much as to hinder the munitions industry of the united states, despite the fact that we were a neutral nation. from harry newton, the leader in the second plot to destroy the welland canal, and from paul seib, who was implicated in the attempt to destroy shipping at hoboken, they forced the information that the conspirators received their orders and drew their pay from a man of many aliases, known to his associates as "number eight fifty-nine" and occasionally, to the world at large, as "von ewald." this much was known in washington--but, when you came to analyze the information, it didn't amount to a whole lot. it's one thing to know that some one is plotting murder and arson on a wholesale scale, but discovering the identity of that individual is an entirely different proposition, one which called for all the finesse and obstinacy for which the governmental detective services are famous. another factor that complicated the situation was that speed was essential. the problem was entirely different from a counterfeiting or smuggling case, where you can be content to let the people on the other side of the table make as many moves as they wish, with the practical certainty that you'll land them sooner or later. "give them plenty of rope and they'll land in leavenworth" is a favorite axiom in the service--but here you had to conserve your rope to the uttermost. every day that passed meant that some new plot was that much nearer completion--that millions of dollars in property and the lives of no-one-knew-how-many people were still in danger. so the order went forward from the headquarters of the service, "get the man known as von ewald and get him quick!" secret service men, postal inspectors, and department of justice agents were called in from all parts of the country and rushed to new york, until the metropolis looked like the headquarters of a convention of governmental detectives. grogan, the chap that landed perry, the master-counterfeiter, was there, as were george macmasters and sid shields, who prevented the revolution in cuba three or four years ago. jimmy reynolds was borrowed from the internal revenue bureau, and althouse, who spoke german like a native, was brought up from the border where he had been working on a propaganda case just across the line. there must have been forty men turned loose on this assignment alone, and, in the course of the search for von ewald, there were a number of other developments scarcely less important than the main issue. at least two of these--the trenton taxicab tangle and the affair of the girl at the switchboard--are exploits worthy of separate mention. but, in spite of the great array of detective talent, no one could get a line on von ewald. in april, when dick walters returned from the coast, the other men in the service were frankly skeptical as to whether there was a von ewald at all. they had come to look upon him as a myth, a bugaboo. they couldn't deny that there must be some guiding spirit to the teutonic plots, but they rather favored the theory that several men, rather than one, were to blame. walters' instructions were just like the rest--to go to new york and stick on the job until the german conspirator was apprehended. "maybe it's one man, maybe there're half a dozen," the chief admitted, "but we've got to nail 'em. the very fact that they haven't started anything of consequence since the early part of the year would appear to point to renewed activity very shortly. it's up to you and the other men already in new york to prevent the success of any of these plots." walters listened patiently to all the dope that had been gathered and then figured, as had every new man, that it was up to him to do a little sleuthing of his own. the headquarters of the german agents was supposed to be somewhere in greenwich village, on one of those half-grown alleys that always threatens to meet itself coming back. but more than a score of government operatives had combed that part of the town without securing a trace of anything tangible. on the average of once a night the phone at headquarters would ring and some one at the other end would send in a hurry call for help up in the bronx or in harlem or some other distant part of the city where he thought he had turned up a clue. the men on duty would leap into the machine that always waited at the curb and fracture every speed law ever made--only to find, when they arrived, that it was a false alarm. finally, after several weeks of that sort of thing, conditions commenced to get on dick's nerves. "i'm going to tackle this thing on my own," he announced. "luck is going to play as much of a part in landing von ewald as anything else--and luck never hunted with more than one man. good-by! see you fellows later." but it was a good many weeks--august, to be precise--before the men in the federal building had the opportunity of talking to walters. he would report over the phone, of course, and drop down there every few days--but he'd only stay long enough to find out if there was any real news or any orders from washington. then he'd disappear uptown. "dick's sure got a grouch these days," was the comment that went around after walters had paid one of his flying visits. "yeh," grunted barry, who was on duty that night, "either the von ewald case's got on his nerves or he's found a girl that can't see him." neither supposition missed the mark very far. walters was getting sick and tired of the apparently fruitless chase after an elusive german. he had never been known to flinch in the face of danger--often went out of his way to find it, in fact--but this constant search for a man whom nobody knew, a man of whom there wasn't the slightest description, was nerve-racking, to say the least. then, too, he had met mary mcnilless. he'd wandered into the public library one evening just before closing time, and, like many another man, had fallen victim to mary's red hair and mary's irish eyes. but a brick wall was a soft proposition compared to mary mcnilless. snubbing good-looking young men who thought that the tailors were missing an excellent model was part of the day's work with the little library girl--though she secretly admitted to herself that this one was a bit above the average. dick didn't get a rise that night, though, or for some days after. every evening at seven found him at the desk over which miss mcnilless presided, framing some almost intelligent question about books in order to prolong the conversation. mary would answer politely and--that was all. but, almost imperceptibly, a bond of friendship sprang up between them. maybe it was the fact that dick's mother had been irish, too, or possibly it was because he admitted to himself that this girl was different from the rest, and, admitting it, laid the foundation for a deep-souled respect that couldn't help but show in his manner. within the month dick was taking her home, and in six weeks they were good pals, bumming around to queer, out-of-the-way restaurants and planning outings which dick, in his heart, knew could never materialize--not until von ewald had been run to cover, at any rate. several times mary tried to find out her companion's profession--diplomatically, of course, but nevertheless she was curious. naturally, dick couldn't tell her. said he had "just finished a job on the coast and was taking a vacation in new york." but mary had sense enough to know that he wasn't at leisure. also that he was working on something that kept his mind constantly active--for several times he had excused himself in a hurry and then returned, anywhere from half an hour to an hour later, with a rather crestfallen expression. after they had reached the "dick and mary" stage she came right out one night and asked him. "hon," he told her, "that's one thing that i've got to keep from you for a while. it's nothing that you would be ashamed of, though, but something that will make you mighty proud. at least," he added, "it'll make you proud if i don't fall down on the job almighty hard. meanwhile, all i can do is to ask you to trust me. will you?" the tips of her fingers rested on the back of his hand for just a moment before she said, "you know i will, dick"--and neither of them mentioned the subject from that time on. on the night of the black tom explosion, early in august, dick didn't show up at the library at the usual hour, and, while this didn't worry mary, because it had happened several times before, she began to be annoyed when three nights passed the same way. of course, she had no way of knowing that the service had received a tip from a stool pigeon on the pay roll of the new york police force that "a bunch of germans were planning a big explosion of some kind" just a few hours before the earth rocked with the force of the blow-up in jersey. every government operative in the city had been informed of the rumor, but few of them had taken it seriously and not one had any reason to expect that the plot would culminate so close to new york. but the echo of the first blast had hardly died away before there were a dozen agents on the spot, weaving a network around the entire district. all they got for their pains, however, was a few suspects who very evidently didn't know a thing. so it was a very tired and disgusted dick who entered the library four nights later and almost shambled up to mary's desk. "i'll be off duty in half an hour," she told him. "from the way you look, you need a little comforting." "i do that," he admitted. "don't make me wait any longer than you have to," and he amused himself by glancing over the late seekers after knowledge. when they had finally seated themselves in a cozy corner of a little restaurant in the upper forties, dick threw caution to the winds and told mary all about his troubles. "i haven't the least business to do it," he confessed, "and if the chief found it out i'd be bounced so fast that it would make my head swim. but, in the first place, i want you to marry me, and i know you wouldn't think of doing that unless you knew something more about me." there was just the flicker of a smile around mary's mouth as she said, almost perfunctorily, "no, of course not!" but her intuition told her that this wasn't the time to joke, and, before walters could go on, she added, "i know you well enough, dick, not to worry about that end of it." so walters told her everything from the beginning--and it didn't take more than five minutes at that. outside of the fact that his people lived in des moines, that he had been in the secret service for eight years, and that he hadn't been able to do a thing toward the apprehension of a certain german spy that the government was extremely anxious to locate, there was pitifully little to tell. "the whole thing," he concluded, "came to a head the other night--the night i didn't show up. we knew that something was going to break, somewhere, but we couldn't discover where until it was too late to prevent the explosion across the river. now that they've gotten away with that, they'll probably lay their lines for something even bigger." "well, now that i've told you, what d'you think?" "you mean you'd like to marry me?" mary asked with a smile. "i don't know how to put it any plainer," dick admitted--and what followed caused the waiter to wheel around and suddenly commence dusting off a table that already was bright enough to see your face in. "there wasn't the slightest clue left after the black tom affair?" mary asked, as she straightened her hat. "not one. we did find two of the bombs that hadn't exploded--devilishly clever arrangements, with a new combination of chemicals. something was evidently wrong with the mixture, though, for they wouldn't go off, even when our experts started to play with them. the man who made them evidently wasn't quite sure of his ground. but there wasn't a thing about the bombs themselves that would provide any indication of where they came from." "the man who made them must have had a pretty thorough knowledge of chemistry," mary mused. "mighty near perfect," admitted walters. "at least six exploded on time, and, from what i understand, they were loaded to the muzzle with a mixture that no one but an expert would dare handle." "and," continued mary, with just a hint of excitement in her voice, "the bomb-maker would continue to investigate the subject. he would want to get the latest information, the most recent books, the--" "what are you driving at?" walters interrupted. "just this," and mary leaned across the table so that there was no possibility of being overheard. "we girls have a good deal of time on our hands, so we get into the habit of making conjectures and forming theories about the 'regulars'--the people who come into the library often enough for us to know them by sight. "up to a month ago there was a man who dropped into the reference room nearly every day to consult books from shelf forty-five. naturally he came up to my desk, and, as he usually arrived during the slack periods, i had plenty of time to study him. maybe it was because i had been reading lombroso, or possibly it's because i am just naturally observant, but i noticed that, in addition to each of his ears being practically lobeless, one of them was quite pointed at the top--almost like a fox's. "for a week he didn't show up, and then one day another man came in and asked for a book from shelf forty-five. just as he turned away i had a shock. apparently he wasn't in the least like the other man in anything save height--but neither of his ears had any lobes to speak of and the top of them was pointed! when he returned the book i looked him over pretty thoroughly and came to the conclusion that, in spite of the fact that his general appearance differed entirely from the other man's, they were really one and the same!" "but what," grumbled walters, "has that to do with the black tom explosion?" "the last time this man came to the library," said mary, "was two days before the night you failed to arrive--two days before the explosion. and--do you know what books are kept on shelf forty-five?" "no. what?" "the latest works on the chemistry of explosives!" walters sat up with a jerk that threatened to overthrow the table. "mary," he said, in a whisper, "i've a hunch that you've succeeded where all the rest of us fell down! the disguises and the constant reference to books on explosives are certainly worth looking into. what name did this man give?" "names," she corrected. "i don't recall what they were or the addresses, either. but it would be easy to find them on the cards. we don't have very many calls for books from shelf forty-five." "it doesn't matter, though," and walters slipped back into his disconsolate mood. "he wouldn't leave a lead as open as that, of course." "no, certainly not," agreed mary. "but the last time he was there he asked for professor stevens's new book. it hadn't come in then, but i told him we expected it shortly. so, unless you men have scared him off, he'll be back in a day or two--possibly in a new disguise. why don't you see the librarian, get a place as attendant in the reference room, and i'll tip you off the instant i spot that pointed ear. that's one thing he can't hide!" the next morning there was a new employee in the reference room. no one knew where he came from and no one--save the librarian and mary mcnilless--knew what he was there for, because his principal occupation appeared to be lounging around inconspicuously in the neighborhood of the information desk. there he stayed for three days, wondering whether this clue, like all the rest, would dissolve into thin air. about five o'clock on the afternoon of the third day a man strolled up to mary's desk and asked if professor stevens's book had come in yet. it was reposing at that moment on shelf forty-five, as mary well knew, but she said she'd see, and left the room, carefully arranging her hair at the back of her neck with her left hand--a signal which she and dick had agreed upon the preceding evening. before she returned the new attendant had vanished, but dick walters, in his usual garb, was loitering around the only entrance to the reference room, watching the suspect out of the corner of his eye. "i'm sorry," mary reported, "but the stevens book won't be in until to-morrow," and she was barely able to keep the anxiety out of her voice as she spoke. had dick gotten her signal? would he be able to trail his man? could he capture him without being injured? these and a score of other questions rushed through her mind as she saw the german leave the room. once outside--well, she'd have to wait for dick to tell her what happened then. the man who was interested in the chemistry of explosives apparently wasn't in the least afraid of being followed, for he took a bus uptown, alighted at eighty-third street, and vanished into one of the innumerable small apartment houses in that section of the city. walters kept close behind him, and he entered the lobby of the apartment house in time to hear his quarry ascending to the fourth floor. then he signaled to the four men who had followed him up the avenue in a government-owned machine--men who had been stationed outside the library in the event of just such an occurrence--and instructed two of them to guard the rear of the house, while the other two remained in front. "i'm going to make this haul myself," walters stated, "but i want you boys to cover up in case anything happens to me. no matter what occurs, don't let him get away. shoot first and ask questions afterward!" and he had re-entered the house almost before he finished speaking. on the landing at the third floor he paused long enough to give the men at the rear a chance to get located. then--a quick ring at the bell on the fourth floor and he waited for action. nothing happened. another ring--and still no response. as he pressed the button for the third time the door swung slowly inward, affording only a glimpse of a dark, uninviting hall. but, once he was inside, the door closed silently and he heard a bolt slipped into place. simultaneously a spot light, arranged over the doorway, flashed on and dick was almost dazzled by the glare. out of the darkness came the guttural inquiry: "what do you want?" "not a thing in the world," replied walters, "except to know if a man named simpson lives here." "no," came the voice, "he does not. get out!" "sure i will if you'll pull back that bolt. what's the idea, anyhow? you're as mysterious as if you were running a bomb factory or something--" as he spoke he ducked, for if the words had the effect he hoped, the other would realize that he was cornered and attempt to escape. a guttural german oath, followed by a rapid movement of the man's hand toward his hip pocket was the reply. in a flash dick slipped forward, bending low to avoid the expected attack, and seized the german in a half nelson that defied movement. backing out of the circle of light, he held the helpless man in front of him--as a shelter in case of an attack from other occupants of the apartment--and called for assistance. the crash of glass at the rear told him that reinforcements had made their way up the fire escape and had broken in through the window. a moment later came the sound of feet on the stairs and the other two operatives were at the door, revolvers drawn and ready for action. but there wasn't any further struggle. von ewald--or whatever his real name was, for that was never decided--was alone and evidently realized that the odds were overwhelming. meekly, almost placidly, he allowed the handcuffs to be slipped over his wrists and stood by as the secret service men searched the apartment. not a line or record was found to implicate anyone else--but what they did discover was a box filled with bombs precisely like those picked up on the scene of the black tom explosion, proof sufficient to send the german to the penitentiary for ten years--for our laws, unfortunately, do not permit of the death penalty for spies unless caught red-handed by the military authorities. that he was the man for whom they were searching--the mysterious "no. "--was apparent from the fact that papers concealed in his desk contained full details as to the arrangement of the nemours plant at wilmington, delaware, with a dozen red dots indicative of the best places to plant bombs. of his associates and the manner in which he managed his organization there wasn't the slightest trace. but the black tom explosion, if you recall, was the last big catastrophe of its kind in america--and the capture of von ewald was the reason that more of the german plots didn't succeed. the treasury department realized this fact when mary mcnilless, on the morning of the day she was to be married to dick walters, u. s. s. s., received a very handsome chest of silver, including a platter engraved, "to miss mary mcnilless, whose cleverness and keen perception saved property valued at millions of dollars." no one ever found out who sent it, but it's a safe bet that the order came from washington by way of wilmington, where the nemours plant still stands--thanks to the quickness of mary's irish eyes. v phyllis dodge, smuggler extraordinary bill quinn tossed aside his evening paper and, cocking his feet upon a convenient chair, remarked that, now that peace was finally signed, sealed, and delivered, there ought to be a big boom in the favorite pastime of the idle rich. "meaning what?" i inquired. "smuggling, of course," said quinn, who only retired from secret service when an injury received in action forced him to do so. "did you ever travel on a liner when four out of every five people on board didn't admit that they were trying to beat the customs officials one way or another--and the only reason the other one didn't follow suit was because he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. that's how uncle sam's detectives pick up a lot of clues. the amateur crook never realizes that silence is golden and that oftentimes speech leads to a heavy fine. "now that the freedom of the seas is an accomplished fact the whole crew of would-be smugglers will doubtless get to work again, only to be nabbed in port. inasmuch as ocean travel has gone up with the rest of the cost of living, it'll probably be a sport confined to the comparatively rich, for a couple of years anyhow. "it was different in the old days. every steamer that came in was loaded to the eyes and you never knew when you were going to spot a hidden necklace or a packet of diamonds that wasn't destined to pay duty. there were thrills to the game, too, believe me. "why, just take the case of phyllis dodge...." * * * * * mrs. dodge [quinn continued, after he had packed his pipe to a condition where it was reasonably sure to remain lighted for some time] was, theoretically at least, a widow. her full name, as it appeared on many passenger lists during the early part of , was mrs. mortimer c. dodge, of cleveland, ohio. when the customs officials came to look into the matter they weren't able to find anyone in cleveland who knew her, but then it's no penal offense to give the purser a wrong address, or even a wrong name, for that matter. while there may have been doubts about mrs. dodge's widowhood--or whether she had ever been married, for that matter--there could be none about her beauty. in the language of the classics, she was there. black hair, brown eyes, a peaches-and-cream complexion that came and went while you watched it, and a figure that would have made her fortune in the follies. joe gregory said afterward that trailing her was one of the easiest things he had ever done. to get the whole story of phyllis and her extraordinary cleverness--extraordinary because it was so perfectly obvious--we'll have to cut back a few months before she came on the scene. for some time the treasury department had been well aware that a number of precious stones, principally pearl necklaces, were being smuggled into the country. agents abroad--the department maintains a regular force in paris, london, rotterdam, and other european points, you know--had reported the sale of the jewels and they had turned up a few weeks later in new york or chicago. but the customs service never considers it wise to trace stones back from their owners on this side. there are too many ramifications to any well-planned smuggling scheme, and it is too easy for some one to claim that he had found them in a long-forgotten chest in the attic or some such story as that. the burden of proof rests upon the government in a case of this kind and, except in the last extremity, it always tries to follow the chase from the other end--to nab the smuggler in the act and thus build up a jury-proof case. reports of the smuggling cases had been filtered into the department half a dozen times in as many months, and the matter finally got on the chief's nerves to such a degree that he determined to thrash it out if it took every man he had. in practically every case the procedure was the same--though the only principals known were different each time. rotterdam, for example, would report: "pearl necklace valued at $ , , sold to-day to man named silverburg. have reason to believe it is destined for states"--and then would follow a technical description of the necklace. anywhere from six weeks to three months later the necklace would turn up in the possession of a jeweler who bore a shady reputation. sometimes the article wouldn't appear at all, which might have been due to the fact that they weren't brought into this country or that the receivers had altered them beyond recognition. however, the european advices pointed to the latter supposition--which didn't soothe the chief's nerves the least bit. finally, along in the middle of the spring of nineteen thirteen, there came a cable from paris announcing the sale of the famous yquem emerald--a gorgeous stone that you couldn't help recognizing once you got the description. the purchaser was reported to be an american named williamson. he paid cash for it, so his references and his antecedents were not investigated at the time. sure enough, it wasn't two months later when a report came in from chicago that a pork-made millionaire had added to his collection a stone which tallied to the description of the yquem emerald. "shall we go after it from this end, chief?" inquired one of the men on the job in washington. "we can make the man who bought it tell us where he got it and then sweat the rest of the game out of the go-betweens." "yes," snorted the chief, "and be laughed out of court on some trumped-up story framed by a well-paid lawyer. not a chance! i'm going to land those birds and land 'em with the goods. we can't afford to take any chances with this crowd. they've evidently got money and brains, a combination that you've got to stay awake nights to beat. no--we'll nail 'em in new york just as they're bringing the stones in. "send a wire to gregory to get on the job at once and tell new york to turn loose every man they've got--though they've been working on the case long enough, heaven knows!" the next morning when gregory and his society manner strolled into the customhouse in new york he found the place buzzing. evidently the instructions from washington had been such as to make the entire force fear for their jobs unless the smuggling combination was broken up quickly. it didn't take joe very long to get the details. they weren't many and he immediately discarded the idea of possible collusion between the buyers of the stones abroad. it looked to be a certainty on the face of it, but, once you had discovered that, what good did it do you? it wasn't possible to jail a man just because he bought some jewels in europe--and, besides, the orders from washington were very clear that the case was to be handled strictly from this side--at least, the final arrest was to be made on american soil, to avoid extradition complications and the like. so when joe got all the facts they simply were that some valuable jewels had been purchased in europe and had turned up in america, without going through the formality of visiting the customhouse, anywhere from six weeks to three months later. "not much to work on," grumbled gregory, "and i suppose, as usual, that the chief will be as peevish as hades if we don't nab the guilty party within the week." "it's more than possible," admitted one of the men who had handled the case. gregory studied the dates on which the jewels had been purchased and those on which they had been located in this country for a few moments in silence. then: "get me copies of the passenger lists of every steamer that has docked here in the past year," he directed. "of course it's possible that these things might have been landed at boston or philadelphia, but new york's the most likely port." when the lists had been secured gregory stuffed them into his suit case and started for the door. "where you going?" inquired mcmahon, the man in charge of the new york office. "up to the adirondacks for a few days," gregory replied. "what's the idea? think the stuff is being brought over by airplane and landed inland? liners don't dock upstate, you know." "no," said gregory, "but that's where i'm going to dock until i can digest this stuff," and he tapped his suit case. "somewhere in this bunch of booklets there's a clue to this case and it's up to me to spot it. good-by." five days later when he sauntered back into the new york office the suit case was surprisingly light. apparently every one of the passenger lists had vanished. as a matter of fact, they had been boiled down to three names which were carefully inscribed in joe's notebook. "did you pick up any jewels in the catskills?" was the question that greeted him when he entered. "wasn't in the catskills," he growled. "went up to a camp in the adirondacks--colder'n blazes. any more stuff turn up?" "no, but a wire came from washington just after you left to watch out for a hundred-thousand-dollar string of pearls sold at a private auction in london last week to an american named--" "i don't care what _his_ name was," gregory cut in. "what was the date they were sold?" "the sixteenth." gregory glanced at the calendar. "and to-day is the twenty-second," he mused. "what boats are due in the next three days?" "the _cretic_ docks this afternoon and the _tasmania_ ought to get in to-morrow. that'll be all until the end of the week." "right!" snapped gregory. "don't let a soul off the _cretic_ until i've had a look at her passenger list. it's too late to go down the harbor now, but not a person's to get off that ship until i've had a chance to look 'em over. also cable for a copy of the _tasmania's_ passenger list. hurry it up!" less than ten minutes after he had slipped on board the _cretic_, however, gregory gave the signal which permitted the gangplank to be lowered and the passengers to proceed as usual--except for the fact that the luggage of everyone and the persons of not a few were searched with more than the average carefulness. but not a trace of the pearls was found, as joe had anticipated. a careful inspection of the passenger list and a few moments with the purser had convinced him that none of his three suspects were on board. shortly after he returned to the office, the list of the _tasmania's_ passengers began to come over the cables. less than half a page had been received when gregory uttered a sudden exclamation, reached for his notebook, compared a name in it with one which appeared on the cabled report, and indulged in the luxury of a deep-throated chuckle. "greg's got a nibble somewhere," commented one of the bystanders. "yes," admitted his companion, "but landin' the fish is a different matter. whoever's on the other end of that line is a mighty cagy individual." but, though he undoubtedly overheard the remark, gregory didn't seem to be the least bit worried. in fact, his hat was at a more rakish angle than usual and his cane fairly whistled through the air as he wandered up the avenue half an hour later. the next the customs force heard of him was when he boarded the quarantine boat the next morning, clambering on the liner a little later with all the skill of a pilot. "you have a passenger on board by the name of dodge," he informed the purser, after he had shown his badge. "mrs. mortimer c. dodge. what do you know about her?" "not a thing in the world," said the purser, "except that she is a most beautiful and apparently attractive woman. crossed with us once before--" "twice," corrected gregory. "came over in january and went right back." "that's right," said the purser, "so she did. i'd forgotten that. but, beyond that fact, there isn't anything that i can add." "seem to be familiar with anyone on board?" "not particularly. mixes with the younger married set and i've noticed her on deck with the mortons quite frequently. probably met them on her return trip last winter. they were along then, if i remember rightly." "thanks," said the customs operative. "you needn't mention anything about my inquiries, of course," and he mixed with the throng of newspaper reporters who were picking up news in various sections of the big vessel. when the _tasmania_ docked, gregory was the first one off. "search mrs. mortimer c. dodge to the skin," he directed the matron. "take down her hair, tap the heels of her shoes, and go through all the usual stunts, but be as gentle as you can about it. say that we've received word that some uncut diamonds--not pearls, mind you--are concealed on the _tasmania_ and that orders have been given to go over everybody thoroughly. pass the word along the line to give out the same information, so she won't be suspicious. i don't think you'll find anything, but you never can tell." at that, joe was right. the matron didn't locate a blessed thing out of the way. mrs. dodge had brought in a few dutiable trinkets, but they were all down on her declaration, and within the hour she was headed uptown in a taxi, accompanied by a maid who had met her as she stepped out of the customs office. not far behind them trailed another taxi, top up and gregory's eyes glued to the window behind the chauffeur. the first machine finally drew up at the astor, and mrs. dodge and the maid went in, followed by a pile of luggage which had been searched until it was a moral certainty that not a needle would have been concealed in it. gregory waited until they were out of sight and then followed. in answer to his inquiries at the desk he learned that mrs. dodge had stopped at the hotel several times before and the house detective assured him that there was nothing suspicious about her conduct. "how about the maid?" inquired gregory. "don't know a thing about her, either, except that she is the same one she had before. pretty little thing, too--though not as good-looking as her mistress." for the next three days joe hung around the hotel or followed the lady from the _tasmania_ wherever she went. something in the back of his head--call it intuition or a hunch or whatever you please, but it's the feeling that a good operative gets when he's on the right trail--told him that he was "warm," as the kids say. appearances seemed to deny that fact. mrs. dodge went only to the most natural places--a few visits to the stores, a couple to fashionable modistes and milliners, and some drives through the park, always accompanied by her maid and always in the most sedate and open manner. but on the evening of the third day the house detective tipped joe off that his prey was leaving in the morning. "guess she's going back to europe," reported the house man. "gave orders to have a taxi ready at nine and her trunks taken down to the docks before them. better get busy if you want to land her." "i'm not ready for that just yet," gregory admitted with a scowl. when mrs. dodge's taxi drove off the following morning joe wasn't far away, and, acting on orders which he had delivered over the phone, no less than half a dozen operatives watched the lady and the maid very closely when they reached the dock. not a thing came of it, however. both of them went to the stateroom which had been reserved and the maid remained to help with the unpacking until the "all-ashore-that-'re-going-ashore" was bellowed through the boat. then she left and stood on the pier until the ship had cleared the dock. "it beats me," muttered gregory. "but i'm willing to gamble my job that i'm right." and that night he wired to washington to keep a close lookout for the london pearls, adding that he felt certain they would turn up before long. "in that case," muttered the chief at the other end of the wire, "why in heaven's name didn't he get them when they came in?" sure enough, not a fortnight had passed before st. louis reported that a string of pearls, perfectly matched, answering to the description of the missing jewels, had been offered for sale there through private channels. the first reaction was a telegram to gregory that fairly burned the wires, short but to the point. "either the man who smuggled that necklace or your job in ten days," it read. and gregory replied, "give me three weeks and you'll have one or the other." meanwhile he had been far from inactive. still playing his hunch that phyllis dodge had something to do with the smuggling game, he had put in time cultivating the only person on this side that appeared to know her--the maid. it was far from a thankless task, for alyce--she spelled it with a "y"--was pretty and knew it. furthermore, she appeared to be entirely out of her element in a cheap room on twenty-fourth street. most of the time she spent in wandering up the avenue, and it was there that gregory made her acquaintance--through the expedient of bumping her bag out of her hands and restoring it with one of his courtly bows. the next minute he was strolling alongside, remarking on the beauty of the weather. but, although he soon got to know alyce well enough to take her to the theater and to the cabarets, it didn't seem to get him anywhere. she was perfectly frank about her position. said she was a hair dresser by trade and that she acted as lady's maid to a mrs. dodge, who spent the better part of her time abroad. "in fact," she said, "mrs. dodge is only here three or four days every two months or so." "and she pays you for your time in between?" "oh yes," alyce replied; "she's more than generous." "i should say she was," gregory thought to himself--but he considered it best to change the subject. during the days that followed, joe exerted every ounce of his personality in order to make the best possible impression. posing as a man who had made money in the west, he took alyce everywhere and treated her royally. finally, when he considered the time ripe, he injected a little love into the equation and hinted that he thought it was about time to settle down and that he appeared to have found the proper person to settle with. but there, for the first time, alyce balked. she didn't refuse him, but she stated in so many words that she had a place that suited her for the time being, and that, until the fall, at least, she preferred to keep on with it. "that suits me all right," declared gregory. "take your time about it. meanwhile we'll continue to be good friends and trail around together, eh?" "certainly," said alyce, "er--that is--until tuesday." "tuesday?" inquired joe. "what's coming off tuesday?" "mrs. dodge will arrive on the _atlantic_," was the reply, "and i'll have to be with her for three days at least." "three days--" commenced gregory, and halted himself. it wasn't wise to show too much interest. but that night he called the chief on long distance and inquired if there had been any recent reports of suspicious jewel sales abroad. "yes," came the voice from washington, "pearls again. loose ones, this time. and your three weeks' grace is up at noon saturday." the click that followed as the receiver hung up was finality itself. the same procedure, altered in a few minor details, was followed when mrs. dodge landed. again she was searched to the skin; again her luggage was gone over with microscopic care, and again nothing was found. this time she stayed at the knickerbocker, but alyce was with her as usual. deprived of his usual company and left to his own devices, gregory took a long walk up the drive and tried to thrash out the problem. "comes over on a different boat almost every trip," he thought, "so that eliminates collusion with any of the crew. doesn't stay at the same hotel two times running, so there's nothing there. has the same maid and always returns--" then it was that motorists on riverside drive were treated to the sight of a young and extremely prepossessing man, dressed in the height of fashion, throwing his hat in the air and uttering a yell that could be heard for blocks. after which he disappeared hurriedly in the direction of the nearest drug store. a hasty search through the phone book gave him the number he wanted--the offices of the black star line. "is mr. macpherson, the purser of the _atlantic_, there?" he inquired. then: "hello! mr. macpherson? this is gregory, customs division. you remember me, don't you? worked on the maitland diamond case with you two years ago.... wonder if you could tell me something i want to know--is mrs. mortimer c. dodge booked to go back with you to-morrow?... she is? what's the number of her stateroom? and--er--what was the number of the room she had coming over?... i thank you." if the motorists whom gregory had startled on the drive had seen him emerge from the phone booth they would have marveled at the look of keen satisfaction and relief that was spread over his face. the cat that swallowed the canary was tired of life, compared with joe at that moment. next morning the customs operatives were rather surprised to see gregory stroll down to the _atlantic_ dock about ten o'clock. "thought you were somewhere uptown on the chief's pet case," said one of them. "so i was," answered joe. "but that's practically cleaned up." with that he went aboard, and no one saw him until just before the "all-ashore" call. then he took up his place beside the gangplank, with three other men placed near by in case of accident. "follow my lead," he directed. "i'll speak to the girl. two of you stick here to make certain that she doesn't get away, and you, bill, beat it on board then and tell the captain that the boat's not to clear until we give the word. we won't delay him more than ten minutes at the outside." when alyce came down the gangplank a few minutes later, in the midst of people who had been saying good-by to friends and relatives, she spotted joe waiting for her, and started to move hurriedly away. gregory caught up with her before she had gone a dozen feet. "good morning, alyce," he said. "thought i'd come down to meet you. what've you got in the bag there?" indicating her maid's handbag. "not--not a thing," said the girl, flushing. just then the matron joined the party, as previously arranged, and joe's tone took on its official hardness. "hurry up and search her! we don't want to keep the boat any longer than we have to." less than a minute later the matron thrust her head out of the door long enough to report: "we found 'em--the pearls. she had 'em in the front of her dress." gregory was up the gangplank in a single bound. a moment later he was knocking at the door of mrs. dodge's stateroom. the instant the knob turned he was inside, informing phyllis that she was under arrest on a charge of bringing jewels into the united states without the formality of paying duty. of course, the lady protested--but the _atlantic_ sailed, less than ten minutes behind schedule time, without her. promptly at twelve the phone on the desk of the chief of the customs division in washington buzzed noisily. "gregory speaking," came through the receiver. "my time's up--and i've got the party you want. claims to be from cleveland and sails under the name of mrs. mortimer c. dodge--first name phyllis. she's confessed and promises to turn state's evidence if we'll go light with her." * * * * * "that," added quinn, "was the finish of mrs. dodge, so far as the government was concerned. in order to land the whole crew--the people who were handling the stuff on this side as well as the ones who were mixed up in the scheme abroad--they let her go scot-free, with the proviso that she's to be rushed to atlanta if she ever pokes her nose into the united states again. the last i heard of her she was in monaco, tangled up in a blackmail case there. "gregory told me all about it sometime later. said that the first hunch had come to him when he studied the passengers' lists in the wilds of the adirondacks. went there to be alone and concentrate. he found that of all the people listed, only three--two men and a mrs. dodge--had made the trip frequently in the past six months. the frequency of mrs. dodge's travel evidently made it impracticable for her to use different aliases. some one would be sure to spot her. "but it wasn't until that night on riverside drive that the significance of the data struck him. each time she took the same boat on which she had come over! did she have the same stateroom? the phone call to macpherson established the fact that she did--this time at least. the rest was almost as obvious as the original plan. the jewels were brought aboard, passed on to phyllis, and she tucked them away somewhere in her stateroom. her bags and her person could, of course, be searched with perfect safety. then, what was more natural than that her maid should accompany her on board when she was leaving? nobody ever pays any attention to people who board the boat at _this_ end, so alyce was able to walk off with the stuff under the very eyes of the customs authorities--and they found later that she had the nerve to place it in the hands of the government for the next twenty-four hours. she sent it by registered mail to pittsburgh and it was passed along through an underground "fence" channel until a prospective purchaser appeared. "perfectly obvious and perfectly simple--that's why the plan succeeded until gregory began to make love to alyce and got the idea that mrs. dodge was going right back to europe hammered into his head. it had occurred to him before, but he hadn't placed much value on it.... "o-o-o-o!" yawned quinn. "i'm getting dry. trot out some grape juice and put on that kreisler record--'drigo's serenade.' i love to hear it. makes me think of the time when they landed that scoundrel weimar." vi a matter of record "what was that you mentioned last week--something about the record of kreisler's 'drigo's serenade' reminding you of the capture of some one?" i asked bill quinn one summer evening as he painfully hoisted his game leg upon the porch railing. "sure it does," replied quinn. "never fails. put it on again so i can get the necessary atmosphere, as you writers call it, and possibly i'll spill the yarn--provided you guarantee to keep the ginger ale flowing freely. that and olive oil are about the only throat lubricants left us." so i slipped on the record, rustled a couple of bottles from the ice box, and settled back comfortably, for when quinn once started on one of his reminiscences of government detective work he didn't like to be interrupted. "that's the piece, all right," bill remarked, as the strains of the violin drifted off into the night. "funny how a few notes of music like that could nail a criminal while at the same time it was saving the lives of nobody knows how many other people--" * * * * * remember paul weimar [continued quinn, picking up the thread of his story]. he was the most dangerous of the entire gang that helped von bernstorff, von papen, and the rest of that crew plot against the united states at a time when we were supposed to be entirely neutral. an austrian by birth, weimar was as thoroughly a hun at heart as anyone who ever served the hohenzollerns and, in spite of his size, he was as slippery as they make 'em. back in the past somewhere he had been a detective in the service of the atlas line, but for some years before the war was superintendent of the police attached to the hamburg-american boats. that, of course, gave him the inside track in every bit of deviltry he wanted to be mixed up in, for he had made it his business to cultivate the acquaintance of wharf rats, dive keepers, and all the rest of the scum of the seven seas that haunts the docks. standing well over six feet, weimar had a pair of fists that came in mighty handy in a scuffle, and a tongue that could curl itself around all the blasphemies of a dozen languages. there wasn't a water front where they didn't hate him--neither was there a water front where they didn't fear him. of course, when the war broke in august, , the hamburg-american line didn't have any further official use for weimar. their ships were tied up in neutral or home ports and herr paul was out of a job--for at least ten minutes. but he was entirely too valuable a man for the german organization to overlook for longer than that, and von papen, in washington, immediately added him to his organization--with blanket instructions to go the limit on any dirty work he cared to undertake. later, he worked for von bernstorff; doctor dumba, the austrian ambassador; and doctor von nuber, the austrian consul in new york--but von papen had first claim upon his services and did not hesitate to press them, as proven by certain entries in the checkbook of the military attaché during the spring and summer of . of course, it didn't take the secret service and the men from the department of justice very long to get on to the fact that weimar was altogether too close to the german embassy for the safety and comfort of the united states government. but what were they to do about it? we weren't at war then and you couldn't arrest a man merely because he happened to know von papen and the rest of his precious companions. you had to have something on him--something that would stand up in court--and paul weimar was too almighty clever to let that happen. when you remember that it took precisely one year to land this austrian--one year of constant watching and unceasing espionage--you will see how well he conducted himself. and the government's sleuths weren't the only ones who were after him, either. captain kenney, of the new york police force, lent mighty efficient aid and actually invented a new system of trailing in order to find out just what he was up to. in the old days, you told a man to go out and follow a suspect and that was all there was to it. the "shadow" would trail along half a block or so in the rear, keeping his man always in view, and bring home a full account of what he had done all day. but you couldn't do that with weimar--he was too foxy. from what some of the boys have told me, i think he took a positive delight in throwing them off the scent, whether he had anything up his sleeve or not. one day, for example, you could have seen his big bulk swinging nonchalantly up broadway, as if he didn't have a care in the world. a hundred feet or more behind him was bob dugan, one of kenney's men. when weimar disappeared into the subway station at times square, dugan was right behind him, and when the austrian boarded the local for grand central station, dugan was on the same train--on the same car, in fact. but when they reached the station, things began to happen. weimar left the local and commenced to stroll up and down the platform, waiting until a local train and an express arrived at the same time. that was his opportunity. he made a step or two forward, as if to board the express, and dugan--not wishing to make himself too conspicuous--slipped on board just as the doors were closing, only to see weimar push back and jam his way on the local! variations of that stunt occurred time after time. even the detailing of two men to follow him failed in its purpose, for the austrian would enter a big office building, leap into an express elevator just as it was about to ascend, slip the operator a dollar to stop at one of the lower floors, and be lost for the day or until some one picked him up by accident. so cap kenney called in four of his best men and told them that it was essential that weimar be watched. "two of you," he directed, "stick with him all the time. suppose you locate him the first thing in the morning at his house on twenty-fourth street, for example. you, cottrell, station yourself two blocks up the street. gary, you go the same distance down. then, no matter which way he starts he'll have one of you in front of him and one behind. the man in front will have to use his wits to guess which way he intends to go and to beat him to it. if he boards a car, the man in front can pick him up with the certainty that the other will cover the trail in the rear. in that way you ought to be able to find out where he is going and, possibly, what he is doing there." the scheme, thanks to the quick thinking of the men assigned to the job, worked splendidly for months--at least it worked in so far as keeping a watch on weimar was concerned. but that was all. in the summer of the government knew precisely where weimar had been for the past six months, with whom he had talked, and so on--but the kernel of the nut was missing. there wasn't the least clue to what he had talked about and what deviltry he had planned! without that information, all the dope the government had was about as useful as a movie to a blind man. washington was so certain that weimar had the key to a number of very important developments--among them the first attempt to blow up the welland canal--that the chief of the secret service made a special trip to new york to talk to kenney. "isn't it possible," he suggested, "to plant your men close enough to weimar to find out, for example, what he talks about over the phone?" kenney smiled, grimly. "chief," he said, "that's been done. we've tapped every phone that weimar's likely to use in the neighborhood of his house and every time he talks from a public station one of our men cuts in from near-by--by an arrangement with central--and gets every word. but that bird is too wary to be caught with chaff of that kind. he's evidently worked out a verbal code of some kind that changes every day. he tells the man at the other end, for example, to be at the drug store on the corner of seventy-third and broadway at three o'clock to-morrow afternoon and wait for a phone call in the name of williams. our man is always at the place at the appointed hour, but no call ever arrives. 'seventy-third and broadway' very evidently means some other address, but it's useless to try and guess which one. you'd have to have a man at every pay station in town to follow that lead." "how about overhearing his directions to the men he meets in the open?" "not a chance in the world. his rendezvous are always public places--the pennsylvania or grand central station, a movie theater, a hotel lobby, or the like. there he can put his back against the wall and make sure that no one is listening in. he's on to all the tricks of the trade and it will take a mighty clever man--or a bunch of them--to nail him." "h-m-m!" mused the chief. "well, at that, i believe i've got the man." "anyone i know?" "yes, i think you do--morton maxwell. remember him? worked on the castleman diamond case here a couple of years ago for the customs people and was also responsible for uncovering the men behind the sugar-tax fraud. he isn't in the service, but he's working for the department of justice, and i'm certain they'll turn him loose on this if i ask them to. maxwell can get to the bottom of weimar's business, if anyone can. let me talk to washington--" and within an hour after the chief had hung up the receiver morton maxwell, better known as "mort," was headed toward new york with instructions to report at secret service headquarters in that city. once there, the chief and kenney went over the whole affair with him. cottrell and gary and the other men who had been engaged in shadowing the elusive weimar were called in to tell their part of the story, and every card was laid upon the table. when the conference concluded, sometime after midnight, the chief turned to maxwell and inquired: "well, what's your idea about it?" for a full minute mort smoked on in silence and gazed off into space. men who had just met him were apt to think this a pose, a play to the grand stand--but those who knew him best realized that maxwell's alert mind was working fastest in such moments and that he much preferred not to make any decision until he had turned things over in his head. "there's just one point which doesn't appear to have been covered," he replied. then, as kenney started to cut in, "no, chief, i said _appeared_ not to have been covered. very possibly you have all the information on it and forgot to hand it out. who does this weimar live with?" "he lives by himself in a house on twenty-fourth street, near seventh avenue--boards there, but has the entire second floor. so far as we've been able to find out he has never been married. no trace of any wife on this side, anyhow. never travels with women--probably afraid they'd talk too much." "has he any relatives?" "none that i know of--" "wait a minute," cottrell interrupted. "i dug back into weimar's record before the war ended his official connection with the steamship company, and one of the points i picked up was that he had a cousin--a man named george buch--formerly employed on one of the boats. "where is buch now?" asked maxwell. "we haven't been able to locate him," admitted the police detective. "not that we've tried very hard, because the trail didn't lead in his direction. i don't even know that he is in this country, but it's likely that he is because he was on one of the boats that was interned here when the war broke." again it was a full minute before maxwell spoke. "buch," he said, finally, "appears to be the only link between weimar and the outer world. it's barely possible that he knows something, and, as we can't afford to overlook any clue, suppose we start work along that line. i'll dig into it myself the first thing in the morning, and i certainly would appreciate any assistance that your men could give me, chief. tell them to make discreet inquiries about buch, his appearance, habits, etc., and to try and find out whether he is on this side. now i'm going to turn in, for something seems to tell me that the busy season has arrived." at that maxwell wasn't far wrong. the weeks that followed were well filled with work, but it was entirely unproductive of results. weimar was shadowed day and night, his telephones tapped and his mail examined. but, save for the fact that his connection with the german embassy became increasingly apparent, no further evidence was forthcoming. the search for buch was evidently futile, for that personage appeared to have disappeared from the face of the earth. all that maxwell and the other men who worked on the matter could discover was that buch--a young austrian whose description they secured--had formerly been an intimate of weimar. the latter had obtained his appointment to a minor office in the hamburg-american line and buch was commonly supposed to be a stool pigeon for the master plotter. but right there the trail stopped. no one appeared to know whether the austrian was in new york, or the united states, for that matter, though one informant did admit that it was quite probable. "buch and the big fellow had a row the last time over," was the information maxwell secured at the cost of a few drinks. "something about some money that weimar is supposed to have owed him--fifteen dollars or some such amount. i didn't hear about it until afterward, but it appears to have been a pretty lively scrap while it lasted. of course, buch didn't have a chance against the big fellow--he could handle a bull. but the young austrian threatened to tip his hand--said he knew a lot of stuff that would be worth a good deal more money than was coming to him, and all that sort of thing. but the ship docked the next day and i haven't seen or heard of him since." the idea of foul play at once leaped into maxwell's mind, but investigation of police records failed to disclose the discovery of anybody answering to the description of george buch and, as captain kenney pointed out, it is a decidedly difficult matter to dispose of a corpse in such a way as not to arouse at least the suspicions of the police. as a last resort, about the middle of september, maxwell had a reward posted on the bulletin board of every police station in new york and the surrounding country for the "apprehension of george buch, austrian, age about twenty-four. height, five feet eight inches. hair, blond. complexion, fair. eyes, blue. sandy mustache." as captain kenney pointed out, though, the description would apply to several thousand men of german parentage in the city, and to a good many more who didn't have a drop of teutonic blood in their veins. "true enough," maxwell was forced to admit, "but we can't afford to overlook a bet--even if it is a thousand-to-one shot." as luck would have it, the thousand-to-one shot won! on september , , detective gary returned to headquarters, distinctly crestfallen. weimar had given him the slip. in company with another man, whom the detective did not know, the austrian had been walking up sixth avenue that afternoon when a machine swung in from thirty-sixth street and the austrian had leaped aboard without waiting for it to come to a full stop. "of course, there wasn't a taxi in sight," said gary, ruefully, "and before i could convince the nearest chauffeur that my badge wasn't phony they'd gone!" "that's the first time in months," gary replied. "he knows that he's followed, all right, and he's cagy enough to keep in the open and pretend to be aboveboard." "right," commented the department of justice operative, "and this move would appear to indicate that something was doing. better phone all your stations to watch out for him, cap." but nothing more was seen or heard of herr weimar for five days. meanwhile events moved rapidly for maxwell. on september th, the day after the austrian disappeared, one of the policemen whose beat lay along fourteenth street, near third avenue, asked to see the government detective. "my name's riley," announced the copper, with a brogue as broad as the toes of his shoes. "does this austrian, this here buch feller ye're lookin' for, like music? is he nuts about it?" "music?" echoed maxwell. "i'm sure i don't know.... but wait a minute! yes, that's what that chap who used to know him on the boat told me. saying he was forever playing a fiddle when he was off duty and that weimar threw it overboard one day in a fit of rage. why? what's the connection?" "nothin' in particular, save that a little girl i'm rather sweet on wurruks in a music store on fourteenth street an' she an' i was talkin' things over last night an' i happened to mintion th' reward offered for this buch feller. 'why!' says she, 'that sounds just like the dutchy that used to come into th' shop a whole lot a year or so ago. he was crazy about music an' kep' himself pretty nigh broke a-buyin' those expensive new records. got me to save him every violin one that came out.'" "um, yes," muttered maxwell, "but has the young lady seen anything of this chap lately?" "that she has not," riley replied, "an' right there's th' big idear. once a week, regular, another dutchman comes in an' buys a record, an' he told katy--that's me gurrul's name--last winter that th' selections were for a man that used to be a stiddy customer of hers but who was now laid up in bed." "in bed for over a year!" exclaimed maxwell, his face lighting up. "held prisoner somewhere in the neighborhood of that shop on fourteenth street, because the big austrian hasn't the nerve to make away with him and yet fears that he knows too much! look here, riley--suppose you and miss katy take a few nights off--i'll substitute for her and make it all right with the man who owns the store. then i can get a line on this buyer of records for sick men." "wouldn't it be better, sir, if we hung around outside th' store an' let katy give us the high sign when he come in? then we could both trail him back to where he lives." "you're right, riley, it would! where'll i meet you to-night?" "at the corner of fourteenth street and thoid av'nue, at eight o'clock. katy says th' man never gets there before nine." "i'll be there," said maxwell--and he was. but nothing out of the ordinary rewarded their vigil the first night, nor the second. on the third night, however, just after the clock in the metropolitan tower had boomed nine times, a rather nondescript individual sauntered into the music store, and riley's quick eyes saw the girl behind the counter put her left hand to her chest. then she coughed. "that's th' signal, sir," warned the policeman in a whisper. "an' that's the guy we're after." had the man turned around as he made his way toward a dark and forbidding house on thirteenth street, not far from fourth avenue, he might have caught sight of two shadows skulking along not fifty feet behind him. but, at that, he would have to have been pretty quick--for maxwell was taking no chances on losing his prey and he had cautioned the policeman not to make a sound. when their quarry ascended the steps of no. riley started to move after him, but the department of justice operative halted him. "there's no hurry," stated maxwell. "he doesn't suspect we're here, and, besides, it doesn't make any difference if he does lock the door--i've got a skeleton key handy that's guaranteed to open anything." riley grunted, but stayed where he was until maxwell gave the signal to advance. once inside the door, which responded to a single turn to the key, the policeman and the government agent halted in the pitch-black darkness and listened. then from an upper floor came the sound for which maxwell had been waiting--the first golden notes of a violin played by a master hand. the distance and the closed doorway which intervened killed all the harsh mechanical tone of the phonograph and only the wonderful melody of "drigo's serenade" came down to them. on tiptoe, though they knew their movements would be masked by the sounds of the music, riley and maxwell crept up to the third floor and halted outside the door from which the sounds came. "wait until the record is over," directed maxwell, "and then break down that door. have your gun handy and don't hesitate to shoot anyone who tries to injure buch. i'm certain he's held prisoner here and it may be that the men who are guarding him have instructions not to let him escape at any cost. ready? let's go!" the final note of the kreisler record had not died away before riley's shoulder hit the flimsy door and the two detectives were in the room. maxwell barely had time to catch a glimpse of a pale, wan figure on the bed and to sense the fact that there were two other men in the room, when there was a shout from riley and a spurt of flame from his revolver. with a cry, the man nearest the bed dropped his arm and a pistol clattered to the floor--the barrel still singing from the impact of the policeman's bullet. the second man, realizing that time was precious, leaped straight toward maxwell, his fingers reaching for the agent's throat. with a half laugh mort clubbed his automatic and brought the butt down with sickening force on his assailant's head. then he swung around and covered the man whom riley had disarmed. "don't worry about him, sir," said the policeman. "his arm'll be numb half an hour from now. what do you want to do with th' lad in th' bed?" "get him out of here as quickly as we can. we won't bother with these swine. they have the law on their side, anyway, because we broke in here without a warrant. i only want buch." when he had propped the young austrian up in a comfortable chair in the federal building and had given him a glass of brandy to strengthen his nerves--the lord only knows that they'll have to do in the future--maxwell got the whole story and more than he had dared hoped for. buch, following his quarrel with weimar, had been held prisoner in the house on thirteenth street for over a year because, as maxwell had figured, the austrian didn't have the nerve to kill him and didn't dare let him loose. barely enough food was allowed to keep him alive, and the only weakness that his cousin had shown was in permitting the purchase of one phonograph record a week in order to cheer him up a little. "naturally," said buch, "i chose the kreisler records, because he's an austrian and a marvelous violinist." "did weimar ever come to see you?" inquired maxwell. "he came in every now and then to taunt me and to say that he was going to have me thrown in the river some day soon. that didn't frighten me, but there were other things that did. he came in last week, for example, and boasted that he was going to blow up a big canal and i was afraid he might be caught or killed. that would have meant no more money for the men who were guarding me and i was too weak to walk even to the window to call for help...." "a big canal!" maxwell repeated. "he couldn't mean the panama! no, that's impossible. i have it! the welland canal!" and in an instant he was calling the niagara police on the long-distance phone, giving a detailed description of weimar and his companions. * * * * * "as it turned out," concluded quinn, reaching for his empty glass, "weimar had already been looking over the ground. he was arrested, however, before the dynamite could be planted, and, thanks to buch's evidence, indicted for violation of section thirteen of the penal code. "thus did a phonograph record and thirty pieces of silver--the thirty half-dollars that weimar owed buch--lead directly to the arrest of one of the most dangerous spies in the german service. let's have mr. drigo's serenade once more and pledge mort maxwell's health in ginger ale--unless you have a still concealed around the house. and if you have i will be in duty bound to tell jimmy reynolds about it--he's the lad that holds the record for persistency and cleverness in discovering moonshiners." vii the secret still "july , ," said bill quinn, as he appropriately reached for a bottle containing a very soft drink, "by no means marked the beginning of the government's troubles in connection with the illicit manufacture of liquor. "of course, there's been a whole lot in the papers since the thirst of july about people having private stills in their cellars, making drinks with a kick out of grape juice and a piece of yeast, and all that sort of thing. one concern in pittsburgh, i understand, has also noted a tremendous and absolutely abnormal increase in the demand for its hot-water heating plants--the copper coils of which make an ideal substitute for a still--but i doubt very much if there's going to be a real movement in the direction of the private manufacture of alcoholic beverages. the internal revenue department is too infernally watchful and its agents too efficient for much of that to get by. "when you get right down to it, there's no section in the country where the art of making 'licker' flourishes to such an extent as it does in eastern tennessee and western north carolina. moonshine there is not only a recognized article of trade, but its manufacture is looked upon as an inalienable right. it's tough sledding for any revenue officer who isn't mighty quick on the trigger, and even then--as jimmy reynolds discovered a few years back--they're likely to get him unless he mixes brains with his shooting ability." * * * * * reynolds [continued quinn, easing his injured leg into a more comfortable position] was as valuable a man as any whose name ever appeared in the government blue book. he's left the bureau now and settled down to a life of comparative ease as assistant district attorney of some middle western city. i've forgotten which one, but there was a good reason for his not caring to remain in the east. the climate west of the mississippi is far more healthy for jimmy these days. at the time of the stiles case jim was about twenty-nine, straight as an arrow, and with a bulldog tenacity that just wouldn't permit of his letting go of a problem until the solution was filed in the official pigeonholes which answer to the names of archives. it was this trait which led chambers, then commissioner of internal revenue, to send for him, after receipt of a message that two of his best men--douglas and wood, i think their names were--had been brought back to maymead, tennessee, with bullet holes neatly drilled through their hearts. "jim," said the commissioner, "this case has gone just far enough. it's one thing for the mountaineers of tennessee to make moonshine whisky and defy the laws of the united states. but when they deliberately murder two of my best men and pin a rudely scribbled note to 'bewair of this country' on the front of their shirts, that's going entirely too far. i'm going to clean out that nest of illicit stills if it takes the rest of my natural life and every man in the bureau! "more than that, i'll demand help from the war department, if necessary! by gad! i'll teach 'em!" and the inkwell on the commissioner's desk leaped into the air as chambers's fist registered determination. reynolds reached for a fresh cigar from the supply that always reposed in the upper drawer of the commissioner's desk and waited until it was well lighted before he replied. "all well and good, chief," he commented, "but how would the army help you any? you could turn fifty thousand men in uniform loose in those mountains, and the odds are they wouldn't locate the bunch you're after. fire isn't the weapon to fight those mountaineers with. they're too wise. what you need is brains." "possibly you can supply that deficiency," retorted the commissioner, a little nettled. "oh, i didn't mean that you, personally, needed the brains," laughed reynolds. "the pronoun was used figuratively and collectively. at that, i would like to have a whirl at the case if you've nothing better for me to do--" "there isn't anything better for anyone to do at the present time," chambers interrupted. "that's why i sent for you. we know that whisky is being privately distilled in large quantities somewhere in the mountains not far from maymead. right there our information ends. our men have tried all sorts of dodges to land the crowd behind the stills, but the only thing they've been able to learn is that a man named stiles is one of the ruling spirits. his cabin is well up in the mountains and it was while they were prospecting round that part of the country that douglas and wood were shot. now what's your idea of handling the case?" "the first thing that i want, chief, is to be allowed to work on this absolutely alone, and that not a soul, in bureau or out of it is to know what i'm doing." "easy enough to arrange that," assented the commissioner, "but--" "there isn't any 'but,'" reynolds cut in. "you've tried putting a number of men to work on this and they've failed. now try letting one handle it. for the past two years i've had a plan in the back of my head that i've been waiting the right opportunity to use. so far as i can see it's foolproof and i'm willing to take all the responsibility in connection with it." "care to outline it?" inquired chambers. "not right at the moment," was reynolds's reply, "because it would seem too wild and scatterbrained. i don't mind telling you, though, that for the next six weeks my address will be in care of the warden of the penitentiary of morgantown, west virginia, if you wish to reach me." "morgantown?" echoed the commissioner. "what in heaven's name are you going to do there?" "lay the stage setting for the first act," smiled jimmy. "likewise collect what authors refer to as local color--material that's essential to what i trust will be the happy ending of this drama--happy, at least, from the government's point of view. but, while you know that i'm at morgantown, i don't want anyone else to know it and i'd much prefer that you didn't communicate with me there unless it's absolutely necessary." "all right, i won't. you're handling the case from now on." "alone?" "entirely--if you wish it." "yes, chief, i do wish it. i can promise you one of two things within the next three months: either you'll have all the evidence you want about the secret still and the men behind it or--well, you know where to ship my remains!" with that and a quick handshake he was gone. during the weeks that followed, people repeatedly asked the commissioner: "what's become of jimmy reynolds? haven't seen him round here for a month of sundays." but the commissioner would assume an air of blank ignorance, mutter something about, "he's out of town somewhere," and rapidly change the subject. about six weeks or so later a buzzard which was flapping its lazy way across the mountains which divide tennessee from north carolina saw, far below, a strange sight. a man, haggard and forlorn, his face covered with a half-inch of stubble, his cheeks sunken, his clothing torn by brambles and bleached by the sun and rain until it was almost impossible to tell its original texture, stumbled along with his eyes fixed always on the crest of a hill some distance off. it was as if he were making a last desperate effort to reach his goal before the sun went down. had the buzzard been so minded, his keen eyes might have noted the fact that the man's clothes were marked by horizontal stripes, while his head was covered with hair the same length all over, as if he had been shaved recently and the unkempt thatch had sprouted during the last ten days. painfully but persistently the man in convict's clothes pressed forward. when the sun was a little more than halfway across the heavens he glimpsed a cabin tucked away on the side of a mountain spur not far away. at the sight he pressed forward with renewed vigor, but distances are deceptive in that part of the country and it was not until nearly dark that he managed to reach his destination. in fact, the stiles family was just sitting down to what passes for supper in that part of the world--fat bacon and corn bread, mostly--when there was the sound of a man's footstep some fifty feet away. instantly the houn' dog rose from his accustomed place under the table and crouched, ready to repel invaders. old man stiles--his wife called him joe, but to the entire countryside he was just "old man stiles"--reached for his rifle with a muttered imprecation about "rev'nue officers who never let a body be." but the mountaineer had hardly risen from his seat when there was a sound as of a heavy body falling against the door--and then silence. stiles looked inquiringly at his wife and then at ruth, their adopted daughter. none of them spoke for an appreciable time, but the hound continued to whine and finally backed off into a corner. "guess i'll have to see what et is," drawled the master of the cabin, holding his rifle ready for action. slowly he moved toward the door and cautiously, very cautiously, he lifted the bolt that secured it. even if it were a revenue officer, he argued to himself, his conscience was clear and his premises could stand the formality of a search because, save for a certain spot known to himself alone, there was nothing that could be considered incriminating. as the door swung back the body of a man fell into the room--a man whose clothing was tattered and whose features were concealed under a week's growth of stubbly beard. right into the cabin he fell, for the door had supported his body, and, once that support was removed, he lay as one dead. in fact, it wasn't until at least five minutes had elapsed that stiles came to the conclusion that the intruder was really alive, after all. during that time he had worked over him in the rough mountain fashion, punching and pulling and manhandling him in an effort to secure some sign of life. finally the newcomer's eyes opened and he made an effort to sit up. "wait a minute, stranger," directed stiles, motioning his wife toward a closet in the corner of the room. mrs. stiles--or 'ma,' as she was known in that part of the country--understood the movement. without a word she opened the cupboard and took down a flask filled with a clear golden-yellow liquid. some of this she poured into a cracked cup on the table and handed it to her husband. "here," directed the mountaineer, "throw yo' haid back an' drink this. et's good fur what ails yer." the moment after he had followed instructions the stranger gulped, gurgled, and gasped as the moonshine whisky burnt its way down his throat. the man-sized drink, taken on a totally empty stomach, almost nauseated him. then it put new life in his veins and he tried to struggle to his feet. ruth stiles was beside him in an instant and, with her father's help, assisted him to a chair at the table. "stranger," said stiles, stepping aside and eying the intruder critically, "i don't know who or what you are, but i do know that yo' look plumb tuckered out. nobody's goin' hungry in my house, so fall to an' we'll discuss other matters later." whereupon he laid his rifle in its accustomed place, motioned to his wife and daughter to resume their places at the table, and dragged up another chair for himself. beyond a word or two of encouragement to eat all he wanted of the very plain fare, none of the trio addressed the newcomer during the remainder of the meal. all three of them had noted the almost-obliterated stripes that encircled his clothing and their significance was unmistakable. but stiles himself was far from being convinced. he had heard too much of the tricks of government agents to be misled by what might prove, after all, only a clever disguise. therefore, when the womenfolk had cleared away the supper things and the two men had the room to themselves, the mountaineer offered his guest a pipeful of tobacco and saw to it that he took a seat before the fire where the light would play directly upon his features. then he opened fire. "stranger," he inquired, "what might yo' name be?" "patterson," said the other. "jim patterson." "whar you come from?" "charlestown first an' morgantown second. up for twelve years for manslaughter--railroaded at that," was patterson's laconic reply. "how'd you get away?" at that the convict laughed, but there was more of a snarl than humor in his tone as he answered: "climbed th' wall when th' guards weren't lookin'. they took a coupla pot shots at me, but none of them came within a mile. then i beat it south, travelin' by night an' hidin' by day. stole what i could to eat, but this country ain't overly well filled with farms. hadn't had a bite for two days, 'cept some berries, when i saw your cabin an' came up here." stiles puffed away in silence for a moment. then he rose, as if to fetch something from the other side of the room. once behind patterson, however, he reached forward and, seizing the stubble that covered his face, yanked it as hard as he could. "what th'----?" yelled the convict, springing to his feet and involuntarily raising his clenched hand. "ca'm yo'self, stranger, ca'm yo'self," directed the mountaineer, with a half smile. "jes' wanted to see for myself ef that beard was real, that's all. thought you might be a rev'nue agent in disguise." "a rev'nue agent?" queried patterson, and then as if the thought had just struck him that he was in the heart of the moonshining district, he added: "that's rich! me, just out of th' pen an' you think i'm a bull. that's great. here"--reaching into the recesses of his frayed shirt--"here's something that may convince you." and he handed over a tattered newspaper, more than a week old, and pointed to an article on the first page. "there, read that!" "ruth does all th' reading for this fam'ly," was stiles's muttered rejoinder. "ruth! oh, ruth! come here a minute an' read somethin' to yo' pappy!" patterson had not failed to note, during supper, that ruth stiles came close to being a perfect specimen of a mountain flower, rough and undeveloped, but with more than a trace of real beauty, both in her face and figure. standing in front of the fire, with its flickering light casting a sort of halo around her, she was almost beautiful--despite her homespun dress and shapeless shoes. without a word the convict handed her the paper and indicated the article he had pointed out a moment before. "reward offered for convict's arrest," she read. "james patterson, doing time for murder, breaks out of morgantown. five hundred dollars for capture. prisoner scaled wall and escaped in face of guards' fire." then followed an account of the escape, the first of its kind in several years. "even if you can't read," said patterson, "there's my picture under the headline--the picture they took for the rogues' gallery," and he pointed to a fairly distinct photograph which adorned the page. stiles took the paper closer to the fire to secure a better look, glanced keenly at the convict, and extended his hand. "guess that's right, stranger," he admitted. "you're no rev'nue agent." later in the evening, as she lay awake, thinking about the man who had shattered the monotony of their mountain life, ruth stiles wondered if patterson had not given vent to what sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief at that moment. but she was too sleepy to give much thought to it, and, besides, what if he had?... in the other half of the cabin, divided from the women's room only by a curtain of discolored calico, slept patterson and stiles--the former utterly exhausted by his travels, the latter resting with keen hair trigger consciousness of danger always only a short distance away. nothing happened, however, to disturb the peace of the stiles domicile. even the hound slept quietly until the rosy tint of the eastern sky announced another day. after breakfast, at which the fat-back and corn bread were augmented by a brownish liquid which passed for coffee, stiles informed his guest that he "reckoned he'd better stick close to th' house fer a few days," as there was no telling whether somebody might not be on his trail. patterson agreed that this was the proper course and put in his time helping with the various chores, incidentally becoming a little better acquainted with ruth stiles. that night he lay awake for several hours, but nothing broke the stillness save a few indications of animal life outside the cabin and the labored breathing of the mountaineer in the bunk below him. for three nights nothing occurred. but on the fourth night, saturday, supper was served a little earlier than usual and patterson noted just a suspicion of something almost electrical in the air. he gave no indication of what he had observed, however, and retired to his bunk in the usual manner. after an hour or more had elapsed he heard stiles slip quietly off his mattress and a moment later there was the guarded scratch of a match as a lantern was lighted. suspecting what would follow, patterson closed his eyes and continued his deep, regular breathing. but he could sense the fact that the lantern had been swung up to a level with his bunk and he could almost feel the mountaineer's eyes as stiles made certain that he was asleep. stifling an impulse to snore or do something to convince his host that he wasn't awake, patterson lay perfectly still until he heard the door close. then he raised himself guardedly on one elbow and attempted to look through the window beside the bunk. but a freshly applied coat of whitewash prevented that, so he had to content himself with listening. late in the night--so late that it was almost morning--he heard the sounds of men conversing in whispers outside the cabin, but he could catch nothing beyond his own name. soon stiles re-entered the room, slipped into bed, and was asleep instantly. so things went for nearly three weeks. the man who had escaped from prison made himself very useful around the cabin, and, almost against his will, found that he was falling a victim to the beauty and charm of the mountain girl. "i mustn't do it," he told himself over and over again. "i can't let myself! it's bad enough to come here and accept the old man's hospitality, but the girl's a different proposition." it was ruth herself who solved the riddle some three weeks after patterson's arrival. they were wandering through the woods together, looking for sassafras roots, when she happened to mention that stiles was not her own father. "he's only my pappy," she said, "my adopted father. my real father was killed when i was a little girl. shot through the head because he had threatened to tell where a still was hidden. he never did believe in moonshining. said it was as bad as stealin' from the government. so somebody shot him and ma stiles took me in, 'cause she said she was sorry for me even if my pa was crazy." "do you believe that moonshining is right?" asked her companion. "anything my pa believed was the truth," replied the girl, her eyes flashing. "everybody round these parts knows that pappy stiles helps run the big still the rev'nue officers been lookin' for the past three years. two of 'em were shot not long ago, too--but that don't make it right. 'specially when my pa said it was wrong. what you smilin' at?" patterson resisted an inclination to tell her that the smile was one of relief and replied that he was just watching the antics of a chipmunk a little way off. but that night he felt a thrill of joy as he lay, listening as always, in his bunk. things had been breaking rather fast of late. the midnight gatherings had become more frequent and, convinced that he had nothing to fear from his guest, stiles was not as cautious as formerly. he seldom took the trouble to see that the escaped prisoner was asleep and he had even been known to leave the door unlatched as he went out into the night. that night, for example, was one of the nights that he was careless--and, as usually happens, he paid dearly for it. waiting until stiles was well out of the house, patterson slipped silently out of his bunk in his stocking feet and, inch by inch, reopened the door. outside, the moon was shining rather brightly, but, save for the retreating figure of the mountaineer--outlined by the lantern he carried--there was nothing else to be seen. very carefully patterson followed, treading softly so as to avoid even the chance cracking of a twig. up the mountainside went stiles and, some fifty feet behind him, crouched the convict, his faded garments blending perfectly with the underbrush. after half a mile or so of following a rude path, stiles suddenly disappeared from view--not as if he had turned a corner, but suddenly, as if the earth had swallowed him. after a moment patterson determined to investigate. when he reached the spot where he had last seen stiles he looked around and almost stumbled against the key to the entire mystery. there in the side of the mountain was an opening, the entrance to a natural cave, and propped against it was a large wooden door, completely covered with vines. "not a chance of finding it in the daytime unless you knew where it was," thought the convict as he slipped silently into the cave. less than thirty feet farther was an abrupt turn, and, glancing round this, patterson saw what he had been hoping for--a crowd of at least a dozen mountaineers gathered about a collection of small but extremely efficient stills. ranged in rows along the sides of the cave were scores of kegs, the contents of which were obvious from the surroundings. pausing only long enough to make certain of his bearings, the convict returned to the cabin and, long before stiles came back, was sound asleep. it was precisely four weeks from the day when the buzzard noted the man on the side of the mountain, when a sheriff's posse from another county, accompanied by half a dozen revenue officers, rode clattering through maymead and on in the direction of the stiles cabin. before the mountaineers had time to gather, the posse had surrounded the hill, rifles ready for action. stiles himself met them in front of his rude home and, in response to his challenge as to what they wanted, the sheriff replied that he had come for a prisoner who had escaped from morgantown a month or so before. stiles was on the verge of declaring that he had never heard of the man when, to his amazement, patterson appeared from the woods and surrendered. the instant the convict had gained the shelter of the government guns, however, a startling change took place. he held a moment's whispered conversation with one of the revenue officials and the latter slipped him a spare revolver from his holster. then--"hands up!" ordered the sheriff, and stiles's hands shot above his head. leaving three men to guard the cabin and keep watch over old man stiles, whose language was searing the shrubbery, the remainder of the posse pushed up the mountain, directed by the pseudoconvict. it took them some time to locate the door to the cave, but, once inside, they found all the evidence they wanted--evidence not only directly indicative of moonshining, but the two badges which had belonged to douglas and wood and which the mountaineers had kept as souvenirs of the shooting, thus unwittingly providing a firm foundation for the government's case in court. the next morning, when commissioner chambers reached his office, he found upon his desk a wire which read: stiles gang rounded up without the firing of a single shot. direct evidence of complicity in woods-douglas murders. secret still is a secret no longer. the signature to the telegram was "james reynolds, alias jim patterson." "jim patterson," mused the commissioner. "where have i heard that name.... of course. he's the prisoner that broke out of morgantown a couple of months ago! jimmy sure did lay the local color on thick!" * * * * * "but," i inquired, as quinn paused, "don't you consider that rather a dirty trick on reynolds's part--worming himself into the confidence of the mountaineers and then betraying them? besides, what about the girl?" "dirty trick!" snorted the former secret service agent. "would you think about ethics if some one had murdered two of the men you work next to in the office? it was the same thing in this case. jimmy knew that if he didn't turn up that gang they'd probably account for a dozen of his pals--to say nothing of violating the law every day they lived! what else was there for him to do? "the girl? oh, reynolds married her. they sometimes do that, even in real life, you know. as i said, they're living out in the middle west, for ruth declared she never wanted to see a mountain again, and both of them admitted that it wouldn't be healthy to stick around within walking distance of tennessee. that mountain crowd is a bad bunch to get r'iled, and it must be 'most time for stiles and his friends to get out of jail. "it's a funny thing the way these government cases work out. here was one that took nearly three months to solve, and the answer was the direct result of hard work and careful planning--while the trenton taxicab tangle, for example, was just the opposite!" viii the taxicab tangle we'd been sitting on the front porch--bill quinn and i--discussing things in general for about half an hour when the subject of transportation cropped up and, as a collateral idea, my mind jumped to taxicabs, for the reason that the former secret service operative had promised to give me the details of a case which he referred to as "the trenton taxicab tangle." "yes," he replied, reminiscently, when i reminded him of the alliterative title and inquired to what it might refer, "that was one of the branch cases which grew out of the von ewald chase--you remember mary mcnilless and the clue of shelf forty-five? well, dick walters, the man who landed von ewald, wasn't the only government detective working on that case in new york--not by some forty-five or fifty--and mary wasn't the only pretty woman mixed up in it, either. there was that girl at the rennoc switchboard.... "that's another story, though. what you want is the taxicab clue." * * * * * if you remember the incidents which led up to the von ewald affair [continued quinn, as he settled comfortably back in his chair] you will recall that the german was the slipperiest of slippery customers. when walters stumbled on his trail, through the quick wit of mary mcnilless, there wasn't the slightest indication that there was such a man. he was a myth, a bugaboo--elusive as the buzz of a mosquito around your ear. during the months they scoured new york in search for him, a number of other cases developed. some of these led to very interesting conclusions, but the majority, as usual, flivvered into thin air. the men at headquarters, the very cream of the government services, gathered from all parts of the country, were naturally unable to separate the wheat from the chaff in advance. night after night they went out on wild-goose chases and sometimes they spent weeks in following a promising lead--to find only blue sky and peaceful scenery at the end of it. alan whitney, who had put in two or three years rounding up counterfeiters for the service, and who had been transferred to the postal inspection service at the time of those registered mail robberies in the middle west--only to be detailed to secret service work in connection with the von ewald case--was one of the bitterest opponents of this forced inaction. "i don't mind trouble," whitney would growl, "but i do hate this eternal strain of racing around every time the bell goes off and then finding that some bonehead pulled the alarm for the sheer joy of seeing the engines come down the street. there ought to be a law against irresponsible people sending in groundless 'tips'--just as there's a law against scandal or libel or any other information that's not founded on fact." but, just the same, al would dig into every new clue with as much interest and energy as the rest of the boys--for there's always the thrill of thinking that the tip you're working on may be the right one after all. whitney was in the office one morning when the phone rang and the chief answered it. "yes," he heard the chief say, "this is the right place--but if your information is really important i would suggest that you come down and give it in person. telephones are not the most reliable instruments in the world." a pause followed and the chief's voice again: "well, of course we are always very glad to receive information that tends to throw any light on those matters, but i must confess that yours sounds a little vague and far-fetched. maybe the people in the taxi merely wanted to find a quiet place to talk.... they got out and were away for nearly two hours? hum! thanks very much. i'll send one of our men over to talk to you about it, if you don't mind. what's the address?" a moment or two later, after the chief had replaced the receiver, he called out to whitney and with a smile that he could barely conceal told him to catch the next train to trenton, where, at a certain address, he would find a miss vera norton, who possessed--or thought she possessed--information which would be of value to the government in running down the people responsible for recent bomb outrages and munition-plant explosions. "what's the idea, chief?" inquired al. "this young lady--at least her voice sounded young over the phone--says that she got home late from a party last night. she couldn't sleep because she was all jazzed up from dancing or something, so she sat near her window, which looks out upon a vacant lot on the corner. along about two o'clock a taxicab came putt-putting up the street, stopped at the corner, and two men carrying black bags hopped out. the taxicab remained there until nearly four o'clock--three-forty-eight, miss norton's watch said--and then the two men came back, without the bags, jumped in, and rolled off. that's all she knows, or, at least, all she told. "when she picked up the paper round eleven o'clock this mornin' the first thing that caught her eye was the attempt to blow up the powder plant 'bout two miles from the norton home. one paragraph of the story stated that fragments of a black bag had been picked up near the scene of the explosion, which only wrecked one of the outhouses, and the young lady leaped to the conclusion that her two night-owls were mixed up in the affair. so she called up to tip us off and get her name in history. better run over and talk to her. there might be something to the information, after all." "yes, there _might_," muttered whitney, "but it's getting so nowadays that if you walk down the street with a purple tie on, when some one thinks you ought to be wearing a green one, they want you arrested as a spy. confound these amateurs, anyhow! i'm a married man, chief. why don't you send giles or one of the bachelors on this?" "for just that reason," was the reply. "giles or one of the others would probably be impressed by the norton's girl's blond hair--it must be blond from the way she talked--and spend entirely too much time running the whole thing to earth. go on over and get back as soon as you can. we can't afford to overlook anything these days--neither can we afford to waste too much time on harvesting crops of goat feathers. beat it!" and whitney, still protesting, made his way to the tube and was lucky enough to catch a trenton train just about to pull out of the station. miss vera norton, he found, was a blond--and an extremely pretty one, at that. moreover, she appeared to have more sense than the chief had given her credit for. after whitney had talked to her for a few minutes he admitted to himself that it was just as well that giles hadn't tackled the case--he might never have come back to new york, and trenton isn't a big enough place for a secret service man to hide in safety, even when lured by a pair of extremely attractive gray-blue eyes. apart from her physical charms, however, whitney was forced to the conclusion that what she had seen was too sketchy to form anything that could be termed a real clue. "no," she stated, in reply to a question as to whether she could identify the men in the taxi, "it was too dark and too far off for me to do that. the arc light on the corner, however, gave me the impression that they were of medium height and rather thick set. both of them were dressed in dark suits of some kind and each carried a black leather bag. that's what made me think that maybe they were mixed up in that explosion last night." "what kind of bags were they?" "gladstones, i believe you call them. those bags that are flat on the bottom and then slant upward and lock at the top." "how long was the taxi there?" "i don't know just when it did arrive, for i didn't look at my watch then, but it left at twelve minutes to four. i was getting mighty sleepy, but i determined to see how long it would stay in one place, for it costs money to hire a car by the hour--even one of those green-and-white taxis." "oh, it was a green-and-white, eh?" "yes, and i got the number, too," miss norton's voice fairly thrilled with the enthusiasm of her detective ability. "after the men had gotten out of the car i remembered that my opera glasses were on the bureau and i used them to get a look at the machine. i couldn't see anything of the chauffeur beyond the fact that he was hunched down on the front seat, apparently asleep, and the men came back in such a hurry that i didn't have time to get a good look at them through the glasses." "but the number," whitney reminded her. "i've got it right here," was the reply, as the young lady dug down into her handbag and drew out a card. "n. y. four, three, three, five, six, eight," she read. "i got that when the taxi turned around and headed back--to new york, i suppose. but what on earth would two men want to take a taxi from new york all the way to trenton for? why didn't they come on the train?" "that, miss norton," explained whitney, "is the point of your story that makes the whole thing look rather suspicious. i will confess that when the chief told me what you had said over the phone i didn't place much faith in it. there might have been a thousand good reasons for men allowing a local taxi to wait at the corner, but the very fact of its bearing a new york number makes it a distinctly interesting incident." "then you think that it may be a clue, after all?" "it's a clue, all right," replied the operative, "but what it's a clue to i can't say until we dig farther into the matter. it is probable that these two men had a date for a poker party or some kind of celebration, missed the train in new york, and took a taxi over rather than be left out of the party. but at the same time it's distinctly within the realms of possibility that the men you saw were implicated in last night's explosion. it'll take some time to get at the truth of the matter and, meanwhile, might i ask you to keep this information to yourself?" "indeed i shall!" was the reply. "i won't tell a soul, honestly." after that promise, al left the norton house and made his way across town to where the munitions factory reared its hastily constructed head against the sky. row after row of flimsy buildings, roofed with tar paper and giving no outward evidence of their sinister mission in life--save for the high barbed-wire fence that inclosed them--formed the entire plant, for there shells were not made, but loaded, and the majority of the operations were by hand. when halted at the gate, whitney found that even his badge was of no use in securing entrance. evidently made cautious by the events of the preceding night, the guard refused to admit anyone, and even hesitated about taking al's card to the superintendent. the initials "u. s. s. s." finally secured him admittance and such information as was available. this, however, consisted only of the fact that some one had cut the barbed wire at an unguarded point and had placed a charge of explosive close to one of the large buildings. the one selected was used principally as a storehouse. otherwise, as the superintendent indicated by an expressive wave of his hand, "it would have been good night to the whole place." "evidently they didn't use a very heavy charge," he continued, "relying upon the subsequent explosions from the shells inside to do the damage. if they'd hit upon any other building there'd be nothing but a hole in the ground now. as it is, the damage won't run over a few thousand dollars." "were the papers right in reporting that you picked some fragments of a black bag not far from the scene of the explosion?" whitney asked. "yes, here they are," and the superintendent produced three pieces of leather from a drawer in his desk. "two pieces of the top and what is evidently a piece of the side." whitney laid them on the desk and examined them carefully for a few moments. then: "notice anything funny about these?" he inquired. "no. what's the matter?" "not a thing in the world, except that the bag must have had a very peculiar lock." "what's that?" "here--i'll show you," and whitney tried to put the two pieces of metal which formed the lock together. but, inasmuch as both of them were slotted, they wouldn't join. "damnation!" exclaimed the superintendent. "what do you make of that?" "that there were two bags instead of one," stated whitney, calmly. "coupled with a little information which i ran into before i came over here, it begins to look as if we might land the men responsible for this job before they're many hours older." ten minutes later he was on his way back to new york, not to report at headquarters, but to conduct a few investigations at the headquarters of the green-and-white taxicab company. "can you tell me," he inquired of the manager in charge, "just where your taxi bearing the license number four, three, three, five, six, eight was last night?" "i can't," said the manager, "but we'll get the chauffeur up here and find out in short order. "hello!" he called over an office phone. "who has charge of our cab bearing license number four, three, three, five, six, eight?... murphy? is he in?... send him up--i'd like to talk to him." a few moments later a beetle-jawed and none too cleanly specimen of the genus taxi driver swaggered in and didn't even bother to remove his cap before sitting down. "murphy," said the green-and-white manager, "where was your cab last night?" "well, let's see," commenced the chauffeur. "i took a couple to the amsterdam the-ayter in time for th' show an' then picked up a fare on broadway an' took him in the hunnerd-an'-forties some place. then i cruised around till the after-theater crowd began to come up an'--an' i got one more fare for yonkers. another long trip later on made it a pretty good night." "murphy," cut in whitney, edging forward into the conversation, "where and at just what hour of the night did those two germans offer you a hundred dollars for the use of your car all evening?" "they didn't offer me no hunnerd dollars," growled the chauffeur, "they gave me...." then he checked himself suddenly and added, in an undertone, "i don't know nothin' 'bout no goimans." "the hell you don't!" snarled whitney, edging toward the door. "back up against that desk and keep your hands on top of it, or i'll pump holes clean through you!" his right hand was in his coat pocket, the fingers closed around what was very palpably the butt of an automatic. murphy could see the outline of the weapon and obeyed instructions, while whitney slammed the door with his left hand. "now look here," he snapped, taking a step nearer to the taxi driver, "i want the truth and i want it quick! also, it's none of your business why i want it! but you better come clean if you know what's good for you. out with it! where did you meet 'em and where did you drive 'em?" realizing that escape was cut off and thoroughly cowed by the display of force, murphy told the whole story--or as much of it as he knew. "i was drivin' down broadway round twenty-eig't street last night, 'bout ten o'clock," he confessed. "i'd taken that couple to the the-ayter, just as i told you, an' that man up to harlem. then one of these t'ree guys hailed me...." "three?" interrupted whitney. "that's what i said--t'ree! they said they wanted to borrow my machine until six o'clock in th' mornin' an' would give me two hunnerd dollars for it. i told 'em there was nothin' doin' an' they offered me two-fifty, swearin' that they'd have it back at th' same corner at six o'clock sharp. two hunnerd an' fifty bones being a whole lot more than i could make in a night, i gambled with 'em an' let 'em have th' machine, makin' sure that i got the coin foist. they drove off, two of 'em inside, an' i put in th' rest of th' night shootin' pool. when i got to th' corner of twenty-eig't at six o'clock this mornin', there wasn't any sign of 'em--but th' car was there, still hot from the hard ride they give her. that's all i know--'shelp me gawd!" "did the men have any bags with them?" "bags? no, not one." "what did they look like?" "the one that talked with me was 'bout my heig't an' dressed in a dark suit. he an' th' others had their hats pulled down over their eyes, so's i couldn't see their faces." "did he talk with a german accent?" "he sure did. i couldn't hardly make out what he was sayin'. but his money talked plain enough." "yes, and it's very likely to talk loud enough to send you to the pen if you're not careful!" was whitney's reply. "if you don't want to land there, keep your mouth shut about this. d'you get me?" "i do, boss, i do." "and you've told me all the truth--every bit of it?" "every little bit." "all right. clear out!" when murphy left the room, whitney turned to the manager and, with a wry smile, remarked: "well, we've discovered where the car came from and how they got it. but that's all. we're really as much in the dark as before." "no," replied the manager, musingly. "not quite as much. possibly you don't know it, but we have a device on every car that leaves this garage to take care of just such cases as this--to prevent drivers from running their machines all over town without pulling down the lever and then holding out the fares on us. just a minute and i'll show you. "joe," he called, "bring me the record tape of murphy's machine for last night and hold his car till you hear from me." "this tape," he explained, a few minutes later, "is operated something along the lines of a seismograph or any other instrument for detecting change in direction. an inked needle marks these straight lines and curves all the time the machine is moving, and when it is standing still it oscillates slightly. by glancing at these tapes we can tell when any chauffeur is holding out on us, for it forms a clear record--not only of the distance the machine has traveled, but of the route it followed." "doesn't the speedometer give you the distance?" asked whitney. "theoretically, yes. but it's a very simple matter to disconnect a speedometer, while this record is kept in a locked box and not one driver in ten even knows it's there. now, let's see what murphy's record tape tells us.... "yes, here's the trip to the theater around eight-thirty. see the sharp turn from fifth avenue into forty-second street, the momentary stop in front of the amsterdam, and the complete sweep as he turned around to get back to broadway. then there's the journey up to the bronx or harlem or wherever he went, another complete turn and an uninterrupted trip back down on broadway." "then this," cut in whitney, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice, "is where he stopped to speak to the germans?" "precisely," agreed the other, "and, as you'll note, that stop was evidently longer than either of the other two. they paid their fares, while murphy's friends had to be relieved of two hundred and fifty dollars." "from there on is what i'm interested in," announced whitney. "what does the tape say?" "it doesn't _say_ anything," admitted the manager, with a smile. "but it _indicates_ a whole lot. in fact, it blazes a blood-red trail that you ought to be able to follow with very little difficulty. see, when the machine started it kept on down broadway--in fact, there's no sign of a turn for several blocks." "how many?" "that we can't tell--now. but we can figure it up very accurately later. the machine then turned to the right and went west for a short distance only--stopped for a few moments--and then went on, evidently toward the ferry, for here's a delay to get on board, here's a wavy line evidently made by the motion of the boat when the hand ought to have been practically at rest, and here's where they picked up the trip to trenton. evidently they didn't have to stop until they got there, because we have yards of tape before we reach a stop point, and then the paper is worn completely through by the action of the needle in oscillating, indicative of a long period of inaction. the return trip is just as plain." "but," whitney objected, "the whole thing hinges on where they went before going to trenton. murphy said they didn't have any bags, so they must have gone home or to some rendezvous to collect them. how are we going to find the corner where the machine turned?" "by taking murphy's car and driving it very carefully south on broadway until the tape indicates precisely the distance marked on this one--the place where the turn was made. then, driving down that street, the second distance shown on the tape will give you approximately the house you're looking for!" "good lord," exclaimed whitney, "that's applying science to it! sherlock holmes wasn't so smart, after all!" al and the manager agreed that there was too much traffic on broadway in the daytime or early evening to attempt the experiment, but shortly after midnight, belated pedestrians might have wondered why a green-and-white taxicab containing two men proceeded down broadway at a snail's pace, while every now and then it stopped and one of the men got out to examine something inside. "i think this is the corner," whispered the garage manager to whitney, when they reached eighth street, "but to be sure, we'll go back and try it over again, driving at a normal pace. it's lucky that this is a new instrument and therefore very accurate." the second trial produced the same result as the first--the place they sought lay a few blocks west of broadway, on eighth. before they tried to find out the precise location of the house, whitney phoned to headquarters and requested loan of a score of men to assist him in the contemplated raid. "tell 'em to have their guns handy," he ordered, "because we may have to surround the block and search every house." but the taxi tape rendered that unnecessary. it indicated any one of three adjoining houses on the north side of the street, because, as the manager pointed out, the machine had not turned round again until it struck a north-and-south thoroughfare, hence the houses must be on the north side. by this time the reserves were on hand and, upon instructions from whitney, spread out in a fan-shaped formation, completely surrounding the houses, front and rear. at a blast from a police whistle they mounted the steps and, not waiting for the doors to be opened, went through them shoulders first. it was whitney, who had elected to assist in the search of the center house, who captured his prey in a third-floor bedroom. before the germans knew what was happening al was in the room, his flashlight playing over the floor and table in a hasty search for incriminating evidence. it didn't take long to find it, either. in one corner, only partly concealed by a newspaper whose flaring headlines referred to the explosion of the night before, was a collection of bombs which, according to later expert testimony was sufficient to blow a good-sized hole in the city of new york. that was all they discovered at the time, but a judicious use of the third degree--coupled with promises of leniency--induced one of the prisoners to loosen up the next day and he told the whole story--precisely as the taxi tape and vera norton had told it. the only missing ingredient was the power behind the plot--the mysterious "no. "--whom dick walters later captured because of the clue on shelf forty-five. * * * * * "so you see," commented quinn as he finished, "the younger pitt wasn't so far wrong when he cynically remarked that 'there is a providence that watches over children, imbeciles, and the united states.' in this case the principal clues were a book from the public library, the chance observations of a girl who couldn't sleep and a piece of white paper with some red markings on it. "at that, though, it's not the first time that german agents have gotten into trouble over a scrap of paper." "what happened to vera norton?" i inquired. "beyond a little personal glory, not a thing in the world," replied quinn. "didn't i tell you that al was married? you're always looking for romance, even in everyday life. besides, if he had been a bachelor, whitney was too busy trying to round up the other loose ends of the ewald case. 'number eight fifty-nine' hadn't been captured then, you remember. "give me a match--my pipe's gone out. no, i can't smoke it here; it's too late. but speaking of small clues that lead to big things, some day soon i'll tell you the story of how a match--one just like this, for all i know--led to the uncovering of one of the most difficult smuggling cases that the customs service ever tried to solve." ix a match for the government "i wonder how long it will take," mused bill quinn, as he tossed aside a copy of his favorite fictional monthly, "to remove the ethical restrictions which the war placed upon novels and short stories? did you ever notice the changing style in villains, for example? a decade or so ago it was all the rage to have a japanese do the dirty work--for then we were taking the 'yellow peril' rather seriously and it was reflected in our reading matter. the tall, well-dressed russian, with a sinister glitter in his black eyes, next stepped upon the scene, to be followed by the villain whose swarthy complexion gave a hint of his latin ancestry. "for the past few years, of course, every real villain has had to have at least a touch of teutonic blood to account for the various treacheries which he tackles. i don't recall a single novel--or a short story, either--that has had an english or french villain who is foiled in the last few pages. i suppose you'd call it the _entente cordiale_ of the novelists, a sort of concerted attempt by the writing clan to do their bit against the hun. and mighty good propaganda it was, too.... "but, unfortunately, the detective of real life can't always tell by determining a man's nationality whether he's going to turn out to be a crook or a hero. when you come right down to it, every country has about the same proportion of each and it's only by the closest observation that one can arrive at a definite and fact-supported conclusion. "details--trifles unnoticed in themselves--play a far larger part in the final dénouement than any preconceived ideas or fanciful theories. there was the case of ezra marks and the dillingham diamonds, for example...." * * * * * ezra [continued the former secret service operative, when he had eased his game leg into a position where it no longer gave him active trouble] was all that the name implied. born in vermont, of a highly puritanical family, he had been named for his paternal grandfather and probably also for some character from the old testament. i'm not awfully strong on that biblical stuff myself. it wasn't long after he grew up, however, that life on the farm began to pall. he found a copy of the life of alan pinkerton somewhere and read it through until he knew it from cover to cover. as was only natural in a boy of his age, he determined to become a great detective, and drifted down to boston with that object in view. but, once in the city, he found that "detecting" was a little more difficult than he had imagined, and finally agreed to compromise by accepting a very minor position in the police department. luckily, his beat lay along the water front and he got tangled up in two or three smuggling cases which he managed to unravel in fine shape, and, in this way, attracted the attention of the customs branch of the treasury department, which is always on the lookout for new timber. it's a hard life, you know, and one which doesn't constitute a good risk for an insurance company. so there are always gaps to be filled--and ezra plugged up one of them very nicely. as might have been expected, the new englander was hardly ever addressed by his full name. "e. z." was the title they coined for him, and "e. z." he was from that time on--at least to everyone in the service. the people on the other side of the fence, however, the men and women who look upon the united states government as a joke and its laws as hurdles over which they can jump whenever they wish--found that this mark was far from an easy one. he it was who handled the wang foo opium case in san diego in nineteen eleven. he nailed the gun runners at el paso when half a dozen other men had fallen down on the assignment, and there were at least three canadian cases which bore the imprint of his latent genius on the finished reports. his particular kind of genius was distinctly out of the ordinary, too. he wasn't flashy and he was far from a hard worker. he just stuck around and watched everything worth watching until he located the tip he wanted. then he went to it--and the case was finished! the chap who stated that "genius is the capacity for infinite attention to details" had ezra sized up to a t. and it was one of these details--probably the most trifling one of all--that led to his most startling success. back in the spring of nineteen twelve the european agents of the treasury department reported to washington that a collection of uncut diamonds, most of them rather large, had been sold to the german representative of a firm in rotterdam. from certain tips which they picked up, however, the men abroad were of the opinion that the stones were destined for the united states and advised that all german boats be carefully watched, because the dillingham diamonds--as the collection was known--had been last heard of en route to hamburg and it was to be expected that they would clear from there. the cablegram didn't cause any wild excitement in the treasury department. european agents have a habit of trying to stir up trouble in order to make it appear that they are earning their money and then they claim that the people over here are not always alert enough to follow their tips. it's the old game of passing the buck. you have to expect it in any business. but, as events turned out, the men on the other side were dead right. almost before washington had time officially to digest the cable and to mail out the stereotyped warnings based upon it, a report filtered in from wheeling, west virginia, that one of the newly made coal millionaires in that section had invested in some uncut diamonds as large as the end of your thumb. the report came in merely as a routine statement, but it set the customs authorities to thinking. uncut stones, you know, are hard to locate, either when they are being brought in or after they actually arrive. their color is dull and slatelike and there is little to distinguish them from other and far less valuable pebbles. of course, there might not be the slightest connection in the world between the wheeling diamonds and those of the dillingham collection--but then, on the other hand, there might.... hence, it behooved the customs people to put on a little more speed and to watch the incoming steamers just as carefully as they knew how. some weeks passed and the department had sunk back into a state of comfortable ease--broken only occasionally by a minor case or two--when a wire arrived one morning stating that two uncut diamonds had appeared in new york under conditions which appeared distinctly suspicious. the owner had offered them at a price 'way under the market figure, and then, rather than reply to one or two questions relative to the history of the stones, had disappeared. there was no record of the theft of any diamonds answering to the description of those seen in maiden lane, and the police force inquired if washington thought they could have been smuggled. "of course they could," snorted the chief. "but there's nothing to prove it. until we get our hands upon them and a detailed description of the dillingham stones, it's impossible to tell." so he cabled abroad for an accurate list of the diamonds which had been sold a couple of months earlier, with special instructions to include any identifying marks, as it was essential to spot the stones before a case could be built up in court. the following tuesday a long dispatch from rotterdam reached the department, stating, among other things, that one of the dillingham diamonds could be distinguished by a heart-shaped flaw located just below the surface. that same afternoon came another wire from new york to the effect that two rough stones, answering to the description of the ones alluded to in a previous message, had turned up in the jewelry district after passing through half a dozen underground channels. "has one of the diamonds a heart-shaped flaw in it?" the chief inquired by wire. "it has," came back the response. "how did you know it?" "i didn't," muttered the head of the customs service, "but i took a chance. the odds were twenty to one against me, but i've seen these long shots win before. now," ringing for mahoney, his assistant, "we'll see what can be done to keep the rest of that collection from drifting in--if it hasn't already arrived." "where's marks located now?" the chief inquired when mahoney entered. "somewhere in the vicinity of buffalo, i believe. he's working on that chesbro case, the one in connection with--" "i know," cut in the chief. "but that's pin money compared with this matter of the dillingham diamonds. thousands of dollars are at stake here, against hundreds there. besides, if this thing ever leaks out to the papers we'll never hear the last of it. the new york office isn't in any too strong as it is. wire marks to drop the trail of those silk hounds and beat it to new york as fast as he can. he'll find real work awaiting him there--something that ought to prove a test of the reputation he's built up on the other three borders. hurry it up!" "e. z." found the message awaiting him when he returned to his hotel that night, and without the slightest symptom of a grouch grabbed the next train for new york. as he told me later, he didn't mind in the least dropping the silk matter, because he had put in the better part of a month on it and didn't seem any closer than when he started. it took ezra less than five minutes to get all the dope the new york office had on the case--and it took him nearly six months to solve it. "the two diamonds in wheeling and the two that turned up here are the only ones we know about," said the man in charge of the new york office. "the original dillingham collection contained twenty-one rough stones--but whether the other seventeen have already been brought in or whether the people who are handling them have shipped them elsewhere is wholly problematical. the chief learned about the heart-shaped flaw from our man at rotterdam, so that identifies one of the stones. but at the same time it doesn't help us in the least--for we can't handle the case from this end." "same rules as on the coast, eh?" inquired marks. "precisely. you've got to tackle the other end of the game. no rummaging around here, trying to pick up the trail that ends with the stone in maiden lane. as you know, this bunch is pretty well organized, wheels within wheels and fences on fences. you get something on one of them and the rest of the crowd will perjure themselves black in the face to get him off, with the result that your case will be laughed out of court and the man you're really after--the chap who's running the stones under your nose--is a thousand miles away with a grin on his face. you've got to land him first and the others later, if the chief wants them. the chances are, though, that he'll be well satisfied to have the goods on the crook that's doing the main part of the work." "well," drawled marks, "i trust he gets his satisfaction. got any ideas on the matter?" "nary an idea. the stones were sold abroad and presumably they were headed for hamburg--which would appear to point to a german boat. four of them, supposedly--one of them, certainly--turned up here without passing through the office or paying the customary duty. now go to it!" when marks got back to his hotel and started to think the problem over, he had to admit that there wasn't very much to "go to." it was the thinnest case he had ever tackled--a perfect circle of a problem, without the slightest sign of a beginning, save the one which was barred. anxious as he was to make good, he had to concede that the department's policy of working from the other end of the case was the right course to follow. he had heard of too many arrests that fell flat, too many weary weeks of work that went for nothing--because the evidence was insufficient--not to realize the justice of the regulations that appeared to hamper him. "no," he thought, as he half dreamed over a pipe-load of tobacco, "the case seems to be impregnable. but there must be some way to jimmy into it if you try long enough." his first move was the fairly obvious one of searching the newspaper files to discover just what ships had docked during the ten days previous to the appearance of the stones in wheeling. but this led nowhere, because that week had been a very busy one in maritime circles. the _celtic_, the _mauretania_, the _kaiser wilhelm der grosse_, the _kronprinzessin cecelie_, the _deutschland_ and a host of other smaller vessels had landed within that time. just as a check upon his observations, he examined the records for the week preceding the first appearance of the diamonds in new york. here again he ran into a snag, but one which enabled him to eliminate at least half of the vessels he had considered before. however, there still remained a sufficient number to make it impossible to watch all of them or even to fix upon two or three which appeared more suspicious than the others. the information from abroad pointed to the fact that a german boat was carrying the diamonds, but, marks figured, there was nothing in the world to prevent the stones from being taken into england or france or italy and reshipped from there. they had turned up in the united states, so why couldn't they have been slipped through the customs of other countries just as easily? the one point about the whole matter that appeared significant to him was that two stones had been reported in each case--a pair in wheeling and another pair in new york. this evidence would be translated either to mean that the smugglers preferred to offer the diamonds in small lots, so as not to center suspicion too sharply in their movements, or that the space which they used to conceal the stones was extremely limited. marks inclined to the latter theory, because two stones, rather than one, had been offered in each instance. if the whole lot had been run in, he argued, the men responsible would market them singly, rather than in pairs. this would not detract in the slightest from the value of the stones, as it isn't easy to match rough diamonds and thus increase their market value. having settled this matter to his own satisfaction and being convinced that, as not more than two stones were being run in at one time, it would take at least eight more trips to import the entire shipment, "e. z." settled down to a part of the government detective's work which is the hardest and the most necessary in his life--that which can best be characterized by the phrase "watchful waiting." for weeks at a time he haunted the docks and wharves along the new york water front. his tall, angular figure became a familiar sight at every landing place and his eyes roamed restlessly over the crowds that came down the gangplank. in a number of instances he personally directed the searching of bags and baggage which appeared to be suspicious. save for locating a few bolts of valuable lace and an oil painting concealed in the handle of a walking stick which was patently hollow, he failed to turn up a thing. the only ray of hope that he could glimpse was the fact that, since he had been assigned to the case, four more stones had been reported--again in pairs. this proved that his former reasoning had been correct and also that the smugglers evidently intended to bring in all of the twenty-one stones, two at a time. but when he came to catalog the hiding places which might be used to conceal two articles of the size of the stones already spotted, he was stumped. the list included a walking stick, the heels of a pair of women's shoes, two dummy pieces of candy concealed in a box of real confections, a box of talcum, a bag of marbles, the handle of an umbrella, or any one of a number of other trinkets which travelers carry as a matter of course or bring home as curios or gifts. finally, after two solid months of unproductive work, he boarded the midnight train for washington and strolled into the chief's office the following morning, to lay his cards on the table. "frankly," he admitted, "i haven't accomplished a thing. i'm as far from breaking into the circle as i was at the beginning, and, so far as i can see, there isn't any hope of doing it for some time to come." "well," inquired the chief, "do you want to be relieved of the case or do you want me to drop the matter entirely--to confess that the customs service has been licked by a single clever smuggler?" "not at all!" and marks's tone indicated that such a thought had never entered his head. "i want the service to stick with the case and i want to continue to handle it. but i do want a definite assurance of time." "how much time?" "that i can't say. the only lead i've located--and that isn't sufficient to be dignified by the term 'clue'--will take weeks and probably months to run to earth. i don't see another earthly trail to follow, but i would like to have time to see whether this one leads anywhere." "all right," agreed the chief, fully realizing what "e. z." was up against and not being hurried by any pressure from the outside--for the case had been carefully kept out of the newspapers--"this is september. suppose we say the first of the year? how does that suit you?" "fair enough, if that's the best you can do." "i'm afraid it is," was the comment from across the desk, "because that's all the case is worth to us. your time is valuable and we can't afford to spend a year on any case--unless it's something as big as the sugar frauds. stick with it until new year's, and if nothing new develops before then we'll have to admit we're licked and turn you loose on something else." "thanks, chief," said marks, getting up from his chair. "you can depend upon my doing everything possible in the next three months to locate the leak and i surely appreciate your kindness in not delivering an ultimatum that you want the smuggler or my job. but then i guess you know that i couldn't work any harder than i'm going to, anyhow." "possibly," agreed the head of the service, "and then, again, it may be because i have confidence that you'll turn the trick within the year. want any help from this end?" "no, thanks. this looks like a one-man game and it ought not to take more than one man to finish it. a whole bunch of people always clutter up the place and get you tangled in their pet theories and personal ideas. what i would like, though, is to be kept in close touch with any further developments concerning stones that appear later on--where they are located--their exact weight and diameter, and any other facts that might indicate a possible hiding place." "you'll get that, all right," promised the chief. "and i trust that you'll develop a red-hot trail of your own before january first." with that marks shook hands and started back to new york, fairly well pleased with the results of his trip, but totally disgusted with the lack of progress which he had made since leaving buffalo. early in october a message from washington informed him that a couple of uncut diamonds had turned up in cincinnati, stones which answered to the description of a pair in the dillingham collection. around the th of november another pair was heard from in boston, and anyone who was familiar with marks and his methods would have noted a tightening of the muscles around his mouth and a narrowing of his eyes which always indicated that he was nearing the solution of a difficulty. after receiving the november message he stopped haunting the wharves and commenced to frequent the steamship offices of the hamburg-american, north german lloyd and llanarch lines. the latter, as you probably know, is operated by welsh and british capital and runs a few small boats carrying passengers who would ordinarily travel second class, together with a considerable amount of freight. when the first day of december dawned, marks drew a deep-red circle around the name of the month on his calendar and emitted a prayerful oath, to the effect he'd "be good and eternally damned if that month didn't contain an unexpected christmas present for a certain person." he made no pretense of knowing who the person was--but he did feel that he was considerably closer to his prey than he had been five months before. fate, as some one has already remarked, only deals a man a certain number of poor hands before his luck changes. sometimes it gets worse, but, on the average, it improves. in ezra marks's case fate took the form of a storm at sea, one of those winter hurricanes that sweep across the atlantic and play havoc with shipping. ezra was patiently waiting for one of three boats. which one, he didn't know--but by the process of elimination he had figured to a mathematical certainty that one of them ought to carry two uncut diamonds which were destined never to visit the customs office. little by little, through the months that had passed, he had weeded out the ships which failed to make port at the time the diamonds arrived--calculating the time by the dates on which the stones appeared elsewhere--and there were only three ships left. one of them was a north german lloyder, the second belonged to the hamburg-american fleet, and the third possessed an unpronounceable welsh name and flew the pennant of the llanarch line. as it happened, the two german ships ran into the teeth of the gale and were delayed three days in their trip, while the welsh boat missed the storm entirely and docked on time. two days later came a message from washington to the effect that two diamonds, uncut, had been offered for sale in philadelphia. "have to have one more month," replied marks. "imperative! can practically guarantee success by fifteenth of january"--for that was the date on which the welsh ship was due to return. "extension granted," came the word from washington. "rely on you to make good. can't follow case any longer than a month under any circumstances." marks grinned when he got that message. the trap was set, and, unless something unforeseen occurred, "e. z." felt that the man and the method would both be in the open before long. when the welsh ship was reported off quarantine in january, marks bundled himself into a big fur coat and went down the bay in one of the government boats, leaving instructions that, the moment the ship docked, she was to be searched from stem to stern. "don't overlook as much as a pill box or a rat hole," he warned his assistants, and more than a score of men saw to it that his instructions were carried out to the letter. beyond exhibiting his credentials, marks made no effort to explain why the ship was under suspicion. he watched the deck closely to prevent the crew from throwing packages overboard, and as soon as they reached dock he requested all officers to join him in one of the big rooms belonging to the customs service. there he explained his reasons for believing that some one on board was guilty of defrauding the government out of duty on a number of uncut diamonds. "what's more," he concluded, at the end of an address which was purposely lengthy in order to give his men time to search the ship, "i am willing to stake my position against the fact that two more diamonds are on board the ship at this moment!" luckily, no one took him up--for he was wrong. the captain, pompous and self-assertive, preferred to rise and rant against the "infernal injustice of this high-handed method." marks settled back to listen in silence and his fingers strayed to the side pocket of his coat where his pet pipe reposed. his mind strayed to the thought of how his men were getting along on the ship, and he absent-mindedly packed the pipe and struck a match to light it. it was then that his eye fell upon the man seated beside him--halley, the british first mate of the steamer. he had seen him sitting there before, but had paid little attention to him. now he became aware of the fact that the mate was smoking a huge, deep-bowled meerschaum pipe. at least, it had been in his mouth ever since he entered, ready to be smoked, but unlighted. almost without thinking about it, marks leaned forward and presented the lighted match, holding it above the mate's pipe. "light?" he inquired, in a matter-of-fact tone. to his amazement, the other started back as if he had been struck, and then, recovering himself, muttered: "no, thanks. i'm not smoking." "not smoking?" was the thought that flashed through marks's head, "then why--" but the solution of the matter flashed upon him almost instantly. before the mate had time to move, marks's hand snapped forward and seized the pipe. with the same movement he turned it upside down and rapped the bowl upon the table. out fell a fair amount of tobacco, followed by two slate-colored pebbles which rolled across the table under the very eyes of the captain! "i guess that's all the evidence we need!" marks declared, with a laugh of relief. "you needn't worry about informing your consul and entering a protest, captain williams. i'll take charge of your mate and these stones and you can clear when you wish." x the girl at the switchboard "when you come right down to it," mused bill quinn, "women came as near to winning the late but unlamented war as did any other single factor. "the food administration placarded their statement that 'food will win the war' broadcast throughout the country, and that was followed by a whole flock of other claimants, particularly after the armistice was signed. but there were really only two elements that played a leading role in the final victory--men and guns. and women backed these to the limit of their powerful ability--saving food, buying bonds, doing extra work, wearing a smile when their hearts were torn, and going 'way out of their usual sphere in hundreds of cases--and making good in practically every one of them. "so far as we know, the allied side presented no analogy to mollie pitcher or the other heroines of past conflicts, for war has made such forward steps that personal heroism on the part of women is almost impossible. of course, we had botchkareva and her 'regiment of death,' not to mention edith cavell, but the list is not a long one. "when it is finally completed, however, there are a few names which the public hasn't yet heard which will stand well toward the front. for example, there was virginia lang--" "was she the girl at the switchboard that you mentioned in connection with the von ewald case?" i interrupted. "that's the one," said quinn, "and, what's more, she played a leading role in that melodrama, a play in which they didn't use property guns or cartridges." * * * * * miss lang [continued quinn] was one of the few women i ever heard of that practically solved a secret service case "on her own." of course, in the past, the different governmental detective services have found it to their advantage to go outside the male sex for assistance. there have been instances where women in the employ of the treasury department rendered valuable service in trailing smugglers--the matter of the deauville diamonds is a case in point--and even the secret service hasn't been above using women to assist in running counterfeiters to earth, while the archives of the state department would reveal more than one interesting record of feminine co-operation in connection with underground diplomacy. but in all these cases the women were employed to handle the work and they were only doing what they were paid for, while virginia lang-- well, in the first place, she was one of the girls in charge of the switchboard at the rennoc in new york. you know the place--that big apartment hotel on riverside drive where the lobby is only a shade less imposing than the bell-boys and it costs you a month's salary to speak to the superintendent. they never have janitors in a place like that. virginia herself--i came to know her fairly well in the winter of nineteen seventeen, after dave carroll had gone to the front--was well qualified by nature to be the heroine of any story. rather above the average in size, she had luckily taken advantage of her physique to round out her strength with a gymnasium course. but in spite of being a big woman, she had the charm and personality which are more often found in those less tall. when you couple this with a head of wonderful hair, a practically perfect figure, eyes into which a man could look and, looking, lose himself, lips which would have caused a lip stick to blush and--oh, what's the use? words only caricature a beautiful woman, and, besides, if you haven't gotten the effect already, there's nothing that i could tell you that would help any. in the spring of nineteen sixteen, when the von ewald chase was at its height, miss lang was employed at the rennoc switchboard and it speaks well for her character when i can tell you that not one of the bachelor tenants ever tried a second time to put anything over. virginia's eyes could snap when they wanted to and virginia's lips could frame a cutting retort as readily as a pleasant phrase. in a place like the rennoc, run as an apartment hotel, the guests change quite frequently, and it was some task to keep track of all of them, particularly when there were three girls working in the daytime, though only one was on at night. they took it by turns--each one working one week in four at night and the other three holding down the job from eight to six. so, as it happened, virginia did not see dave carroll until he had been there nearly a month. he blew in from washington early one evening and straightway absented himself from the hotel until sometime around seven the following morning, following the schedule right through, every night. did you ever know carroll? he and i worked together on the farron case out in st. louis, the one where a bookmaker at the races tipped us off to the biggest counterfeiting scheme ever attempted in this country, and after that he took part in a number of other affairs, including the one which prevented the haitian revolution in nineteen thirteen. dave wasn't what you would call good-looking, though he did have a way with women. the first night that he came downstairs--after a good day's sleep--and spotted virginia lang on the switchboard, he could have been pardoned for wandering over and trying to engage her in a conversation. but the only rise he got was from her eyebrows. they went up in that "i-am-sure-i-have-never-met-you" manner which is guaranteed to be cold water to the most ardent male, and the only reply she vouchsafed was "what number did you wish?" "you appear to have mine," dave laughed, and then asked for rector , the private branch which connected with the service headquarters. when he came out of the booth he was careful to confine himself to "thank you" and the payment of his toll. but there was something about him that made virginia lang feel he was "different"--a word which, with women, may mean anything--or nothing. then she returned to the reading of her detective story, a type of literature to which she was much addicted. carroll, as you have probably surmised, was one of the more than twoscore government operatives sent to new york to work on the von ewald case. his was a night shift, with roving orders to wander round the section in the neighborhood of columbus circle and stand ready to get anywhere in the upper section of the city in a hurry in case anything broke. but, beyond reporting to headquarters regularly every hour, the assignment was not exactly eventful. the only thing that was known about von ewald at that time was that a person using such a name--or alias--was in charge of the german intrigues against american neutrality. already nearly a score of bomb outrages, attempts to destroy shipping, plots against munition plants, and the like had been laid at his door, but the elusive hun had yet to be spotted. indeed, there were many men in the service who doubted the existence of such a person, and of these carroll was one. but he shrugged his shoulders and stoically determined to bear the monotony of strolling along broadway and up, past the plaza, to fifth avenue and back again every night--a program which was varied only by an occasional séance at reisenweber's or pabst's, for that was in the days before the one-half of one per cent represented the apotheosis of liquid refreshment. it was while he was walking silently along fifty-ninth street, on the north side, close to the park, a few nights after his brush with virginia lang, that carroll caught the first definite information about the case that anyone had obtained. he hadn't noted the men until he was almost upon them, for the night was dark and the operative's rubber heels made no sound upon the pavement. possibly he wouldn't have noticed them then if it hadn't been for a phrase or two of whispered german that floated out through the shrubbery. "he will stay at conner's" was what reached carroll's ears. "that will be our chance--a rare opportunity to strike two blows at once, one at our enemy and the other at this smug, self-satisfied nation which is content to make money out of the slaughter of germany's sons. once he is in the hotel, the rest will be easy." "how?" inquired a second voice. "a bomb, so arranged to explode with the slightest additional pressure, in a--" "careful," growled a third man. "eight fifty-nine would hardly care to have his plans spread all over new york. this cursed shrubbery is so dense that there is no telling who may be near. come!" and carroll, crouched on the outside of the fence which separates the street from the park, knew that seconds were precious if he was to get any further information. a quick glance down the street showed him that the nearest gate was too far away to permit of entrance in that manner. so, slipping his automatic into the side pocket of his coat he leaped upward and grasped the top of the iron fence. on the other side he could hear the quick scuffle of feet as the germans, alarmed, began to retreat rapidly. a quick upward heave, a purchase with his feet, and he was over, his revolver in his hand the instant he lighted on the other side. "halt!" he called, more from force of habit than from anything else, for he had no idea that any of the trio would stop. but evidently one of them did, for from behind the shelter of a near-by bush came the quick spat of a revolver and a tongue of flame shot toward him. the bullet, however, sung harmlessly past and he replied with a fusillade of shots that ripped through the bush and brought a shower of german curses from the other side. then another of the conspirators opened fire from a point at right angles to the first, and the ruse was successful, for it diverted carroll's attention long enough to permit the escape of the first man, and the operative was still flat on the ground, edging his way cautiously forward when the park police arrived, the vanguard of a curious crowd attracted by the shots. "what's the trouble?" demanded the "sparrow cop." "none at all," replied dave, as he slipped the still warm revolver into his pocket and brushed some dirt from his sleeve. "guy tried to hold me up, that's all, and i took a pot shot at him. cut it! secret service!" and he cautiously flashed his badge in the light of the electric torch which the park policeman held. "huh!" grunted the guard, as he made his way to the bush from behind which carroll had been attacked. "you evidently winged him. there's blood on the grass here, but no sign of the bird himself. want any report to headquarters?" he added, in an undertone. "not a word," said carroll. "i'm working this end of the game and i want to finish it without assistance. it's the only thing that's happened in a month to break the monotony and there's no use declaring anyone else in on it. by the way, do you know of any place in town known as conner's?" "conner's? never heard of it. sounds as though it might be a dive in the bowery. plenty of queer places down there." "no, it's hardly likely to be in that section of the city," dave stated. "farther uptown, i think. but it's a new one on me." "on me, too," agreed the guard, "and i thought i knew the town like a book." when he reported to headquarters a few moments later, carroll told the chief over the wire of his brush with the trio of germans, as well as what he had heard. there was more than a quiver of excitement in the voice from the other end of the wire, for this was the first actual proof of the existence of the mysterious "no. ." "still believe von ewald is a myth?" inquired the chief. "well, i wouldn't go so far as to say that," was the answer, "because the bullet that just missed me was pretty material. evidently some one is planning these bomb outrages and it's up to us to nab him--if only for the sake of the service." "did you catch the name of the man to whom your friends were alluding?" asked the chief. "no, they just referred to him as 'he.'" "that might mean any one of a number of people," mused the chief. "sir cecil spring-rice is in town, you know. stopping at the waldorf. then there's the head of the french mission at the vanderbilt with a bunch of people, and lord wimbledon, who's spent five million dollars for horses in the west, stopping at the same place you are. you might keep an eye on him and i'll send kramer and fleming up to trail the other two." "did you ever hear of the place they called conner's, chief?" "no, but that doesn't mean anything. it may be a code word--a prearranged name to camouflage the hotel in the event anyone were listening in." "possibly," replied carroll, just before he hung up, "but somehow i have a hunch that it wasn't. i'll get back on the job and let you know if anything further develops." his adventure for the night appeared to have ended, for he climbed into bed the following morning without having been disturbed, but lay awake for an hour or more--obsessed with the idea that he really held the clue to the whole affair, but unable to figure out just what it was. where was it that they intended to place the bomb? why would they arrange it so as to explode upon pressure, rather than concussion or by a time fuse? where was conner's? who was the man they were plotting against? these were some of the questions which raced through his brain, and he awoke in the late afternoon still haunted by the thought that he really ought to know more than he did. that night at dinner he noted, almost subconsciously, that he was served by a new waiter, a fact that rather annoyed him because he had been particularly pleased at the service rendered by the other man. "where's felix?" he inquired, as the new attendant brought his soup. "he isn't on to-night, sir," was the reply. "he had an accident and won't be here for a couple of days." "an accident?" "yes, sir," was the laconic answer. "anything serious?" "no, sir. he--he hurt his hand," and the waiter disappeared without another word. carroll thought nothing more of it at the time, but later, over his coffee and a good cigar, a sudden idea struck him. could it be that felix was one of the men whom he had surprised the night before, the one he had fired at and hit? no, that was too much of a coincidence. but then felix was manifestly of foreign origin, and, while he claimed to be swiss, there was a distinct teutonic rasp to his words upon occasion. signaling to his waiter, dave inquired whether he knew where felix lived. "i'd like to know if there is anything that i can do for him," he gave as his reason for asking. "i haven't the slightest idea," came the answer, and carroll was aware that the man was lying, for his demeanor was sullen rather than subservient and the customary "sir" was noticeable by its absence. once in the lobby, dave noticed that the pretty telephone operator was again at the switchboard, and the idea occurred to him that he might find out felix's address from the hotel manager or head waiter. "i understand that my waiter has been hurt in an accident," the operative explained to the goddess of the wires, "and i'd like to find out where he lives. who would be likely to know?" "the head waiter ought to be able to tell you," was the reply, accompanied by the flash of what carroll swore to be the whitest teeth he had ever seen. "just a moment and i will get him on the wire for you." then, after a pause, "booth number five, please." but carroll got no satisfaction from that source, either. the head waiter maintained that he knew nothing of felix's whereabouts and hung up the receiver in a manner which was distinctly final, not to say impolite. the very air of mystery that surrounded the missing man was sufficient to incline him to the belief that, after all, there might be something to the idea that felix was the man he had shot at the night before. in that event, it was practically certain that lord wimbledon was the object of the germans' attention--but that didn't solve the question of where the bomb was to be placed, nor the location of "conner's." "just the same," he muttered, half aloud, "i'm going to stick around here to-night." "why that momentous decision?" came a voice almost at his elbow, a voice which startled and charmed him with its inflection. looking up, he caught the eyes of the pretty telephone girl, laughing at him. "talking to yourself is a bad habit," she warned him with a smile which seemed to hold an apology for her brusqueness of the night before, "particularly in your business." "my business?" echoed dave. "what do you know about that?" "not a thing in the world--except," and here her voice dropped to a whisper--"except that you are a government detective and that you've discovered something about lord wimbledon, probably some plot against his lordship." "where--how--what in the world made you think that?" stammered carroll, almost gasping for breath. "very simple," replied the girl. "quite elementary, as sherlock holmes used to say. you called the headquarters number every night when you came down--the other girls tipped me off to that, for they know that i'm fond of detective stories. then everybody around here knows that felix, the waiter that you inquired about, is really german, though he pretends to be swiss, and that he, the head waiter, and the pastry cook are thick as thieves." "you'd hardly expect me to say 'yes,' would you? particularly as i am supposed to be a government operative." "now i know you are," smiled the girl. "very few people use the word 'operative.' they'd say 'detective' or 'agent.' but don't worry, i won't give you away." "please don't," laughed carroll, half banteringly, half in earnest, for it would never do to have it leak out that a girl had not only discovered his identity, but his mission. then, as an after-thought, "do you happen to know of any hotel or place here in town known as 'conner's'?" he asked. "why, of course," was the reply, amazing in its directness. "the manager's name--" but then she halted abruptly, picked up a plug, and said, "what number, please?" into the receiver. carroll sensed that there was a reason for her stopping in the middle of her sentence and, looking around, found the pussy-footed head waiter beside him, apparently waiting for a call. silently damning the custom that made it obligatory for waiters to move without making a sound, carroll wandered off across the lobby, determined to take a stroll around the block before settling down to his night's vigil. a stop at the information desk, however, rewarded him with the news that lord wimbledon was giving a dinner in his apartments the following evening to the british ambassador--that being all the hotel knew officially about his grace's movements. "i'll take care to have half a dozen extra men on the job," carroll assured himself, "for that's undoubtedly the time they would pick if they could get away with it. a single bomb then would do a pretty bit of damage." the evening brought no further developments, but shortly after midnight he determined to call the rennoc, in the hope that the pretty telephone girl was still on duty and that she might finish telling him what she knew of conner's. "hotel rennoc," came a voice which he recognized instantly. "this is dave carroll speaking," said the operative. "can you tell me now what it was you started to say about conner's?" "not now," came the whispered reply. then, in a louder voice, "just a moment, please, and i'll see if he's registered." during the pause which followed dave realized that the girl must be aware that she was watched by some one. was it the silent-moving head waiter? "no, he hasn't arrived yet," was the next phrase that came over the wires, clearly and distinctly, followed by instructions, couched in a much lower tone, "meet me, drive entrance, one-five sure," and then a click as the plug was withdrawn. it was precisely five minutes past one when carroll paused in front of the riverside drive doorway to the rennoc, considering it the part of discretion to keep on the opposite side of the driveway. a moment later a woman, alone, left the hotel, glanced around quickly, and then crossed to where he was standing. "follow me up the street," she directed in an undertone as she passed. "michel has been watching like a hawk." dave knew that michel was the head waiter, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow slip out of another of the hotel doorways, farther down the drive, and start toward them. but when he looked around a couple of blocks farther up the drive, there was no one behind them. "why all the mystery?" he inquired, as he stepped alongside the girl. "something's afoot in the rennoc," she replied, "and they think i suspect what it is and have told you about it. michel hasn't taken his eyes off me all evening. i heard him boast one night that he could read lips, so i didn't dare tell you anything when you called up, even though he was across the lobby. conner's, the place you asked about, is the rennoc. spell it backward. conner is the manager--hence the name of the hotel." "then," said carroll, "that means that they've got a plan under way to bomb lord wimbledon and probably the british ambassador at that dinner to-morrow evening. i overheard one of them say last night that a bomb, arranged to explode at the slightest pressure, would be placed in the--" and then he stopped. "in the cake!" gasped the girl, as if by intuition. but her next words showed that her deduction had a more solid foundation. "this is to be a birthday dinner, in honor of lord percy somebody who's in lord wimbledon's party, as well as in honor of lord cecil. the pastry cook, who's almost certainly mixed up in the plot, has plenty of opportunity to put the bomb there, where it would never be suspected. the instant they cut the cake--" but her voice trailed off in midair as something solid came down on her head with a crash. at the same moment dave was sent reeling by a blow from a blackjack, a blow which sent him spinning across the curb and into the street. he was dimly aware that two men were leaping toward him and that a third was attacking the telephone girl. panting, gasping, fighting for time in which to clear his head of the effects of the first blow, carroll fought cautiously, but desperately, realizing that his opponents desired to avoid gun-play for fear of attracting the police. a straight left to the jaw caught one of the men coming in and knocked him sprawling, but the second, whom carroll recognized as michel, was more wary. he dodged and feinted with the skill of a professional boxer, and then launched an uppercut which went home on the point of dave's jaw. it was at that moment that the operative became aware of another participant in the fray--a figure in white with what appeared to be a halo of gold around her head. the thought flashed through his mind that he must be dreaming, but he had sense enough left to leap aside when a feminine voice called "look out!" and the arc light glinted off the blade of a knife as it passed perilously close to his ribs. then the figure in white brought something down on michel's head and, wheeling, seized the wrist of the third man in a grip of iron. ten seconds later the entire trio was helpless and carroll was blowing a police whistle for assistance. "there was really nothing to it at all," protested the telephone girl, during the ride in the patrol. "they made the mistake of trying to let felix, with his wounded hand, take care of me. i didn't have two years of gym work and a complete course in jiu jitsu for nothing, and that blackjack came in mighty handy a moment or two later. all felix succeeded in doing was to knock my hat off, and i shed my coat the instant i had attended to him." "that's why i thought you were a goddess in white," murmured dave. "no goddess at all, just a girl from the switchboard who was glad to have a chance at the brutes. anyhow, that few minutes beats any book i ever read for action!" dave's hand stole out in the darkness as they jolted forward, and when it found what it was seeking, "girl," he said, "do you realize that i don't even know your name?" "lang," said a voice in the dark. "my friends call me virginia." "after what you just did for me, i think we ought to be at least good friends," laughed carroll, and the thrill of the fight which has just passed was as nothing when she answered: "at least that ... dave!" * * * * * quinn paused for a moment to repack his pipe and i took advantage of the interruption to ask what happened at the wimbledon dinner the following night. "not a thing in the world," replied quinn. "everything went off like clockwork--everything but the bomb. as the podunk _gazette_ would say, 'a very pleasant time was had by all.' but you may be sure that they were careful to examine the cake and the other dishes before they were sampled by the guests. michel, felix, and the cook were treated to a good dose of the third degree at headquarters, but without results. they wouldn't even admit that they knew any such person as 'number eight-fifty-nine' or von ewald. two of them got off with light sentences for assault and battery. the pastry cook, however, went to the pen when they found a quantity of high explosives in his room." "and miss lang?" "if you care to look up the marriage licenses for october, nineteen sixteen, you'll find that one was issued in the names of david carroll and virginia lang. she's the wife of a captain now, for dave left the service the following year and went to france to finish his fight with the hun. i saw him not long ago and the only thing that's worrying him is where he is going to find his quota of excitement, for he says that there is nothing left in the service but chasing counterfeiters and guarding the resident, and he can't stand the idea of staying in the army and drawing his pay for wearing a uniform." xi "lost--$ , !" "i stopped on my way here to-night and laid in a supply of something that i don't often use--chewing gum," said bill quinn, formerly of the secret service, as he settled back comfortably to enjoy an evening's chat. "there are some professional reformers who maintain that the great american habit of silently working the jaws over a wad of chewing gum is harmful in the extreme, but if you'll look into the matter you'll find that agitators of that type want you to cut out all habits except those which they are addicted to. "personally, i'm not a habitual worshiper at the shrine of the great god goom, but there's no use denying the fact that it does soothe one's nerves occasionally. incidentally, it has other uses--as elmer allison discovered not very long ago." "yes?" i inquired, sensing the fact that quinn had a story up his sleeve and was only awaiting the opportunity to spring it. "didn't you mention a post-office case in which a wad of gum played a prominent role?" "that's the one," said the former government operative, easing his wounded leg into a less cramped position. "here, have a couple of sticks just to get the proper atmosphere and i'll see if i can recall the details." * * * * * for some reason that's hard to define [quinn went on, after he had peeled two of the dun-colored sticks and commenced work on them] crooks in general and amateur crooks in particular seem to regard the united states mails as particularly easy prey. possibly they figure that, as millions of dollars are handled by the post-office department every year, a little here and there won't be missed. but if they knew the high percentage of mail robberies that are solved they wouldn't be so keen to tackle the game. lifting valuables, once they have passed into the hands of uncle sam's postman, is a comparatively easy crime to commit. there are dozens of ways of doing it--methods which range all the way from fishing letters out of a post-box with a piece of string and a hairpin, to holding up the mail car in a deserted portion of a railroad track. but getting away with it is, as our yiddish friends say, something else again. the annals of the postal inspection service are filled with incidents which indicate that the high cost of living is down around zero compared to the high cost of crime, when said crime is aimed at the mails. there are scores of men in atlanta, leavenworth, and other federal prisons whose advice would be to try murder, forgery, or arson rather than attempt to earn a dishonest living by stealing valuable letters. the majority of persons realize that it pays to register their money and insure their packages because, once this precaution has been attended to, the government exercises special care in the handling of these and makes it extremely difficult for crooks to get anywhere near them. if a registered letter disappears there is a clean-cut trail of signed receipts to follow and somebody has to bear the burden of the loss. but even with these precautions, the registered section is looted every now and then. one of the biggest cases of this kind on record was that which occurred in columbus when letters with an aggregate value of one hundred thousand dollars just vanished into thin air. of course, they didn't all disappear at one time, but that made it all the more mysterious--because the thefts were spread out over a period of some five or six weeks and they went on, just as regularly as clockwork, in spite of the precautions to the contrary. the first of the losses, as i recall it, was a shipment of ten thousand dollars in large bills sent by a chicago bank to a financial concern in columbus. when working on that single case, of course, the officials of the department were more or less in the dark as to the precise place that the disappearance had taken place, in spite of the fact that there were the usual signed slips indicating that the package had been received at the columbus post office. but clerks who are in a hurry sometimes sign receipts without being any too careful to check up the letters or packages to which they refer--a highly reprehensible practice, but one which is the outgrowth of the shortage of help. it was quite within the bounds of possibility, for example, for the package to have been abstracted from the chicago office without the loss being discovered until columbus checked up on the mail which was due there. but a week or ten days later came the second of the mysterious disappearances--another envelope containing bills of large denomination, this time en route from pittsburgh to columbus. when a third loss occurred the following fortnight, the headquarters of the postal inspection service in washington became distinctly excited and every man who could be spared was turned loose in an effort to solve the problem. orders were given to shadow all the employees who had access to the registered mail with a view to discovering whether they had made any change in their personal habits, whether they had displayed an unusual amount of money within the past month, or whether their family had shown signs of exceptional prosperity. it was while the chief was waiting for these reports that elmer allison blew into washington unexpectedly and strolled into the room in the big gray-stone tower of what was then the post-office department building, with the news that he had solved the "poison-pen case" in kansas city and was ready to tackle something else. the chief, to put it mildly, was surprised and inquired why in the name of the seven hinges of hades allison hadn't made his report directly to the office by mail. "that was a pretty important case, chief," elmer replied, "and i didn't want to take any chances of the findings being lost in the registered mail." then, grinning, he continued, "understand you've been having a bit of trouble out in columbus?" "who told you about that?" growled the chief. "oh, you can't keep things like that under your hat even if you do succeed in keeping them out of the papers," retorted allison. "a little bird tipped me off to it three weeks ago and--" "and you determined to leap back here as soon as you could so that you would be assigned to the case, eh?" "you guessed it, chief. i wanted a try at the columbus affair and i was afraid i wouldn't get it unless i put the matter personally up to you. how 'bout it?" "as it happens, you lost about two days of valuable time in coming here, instead of wiring for further instructions from kansas city," the chief told him. "i had intended taking you off that anonymous letter case by noon to-morrow, whether you'd finished it or not, for this is a far more important detail. somebody's gotten away with fifty thousand dollars so far, and there's no--" "pardon me, sir, but here's a wire which has just arrived from rogers, in columbus. thought you'd like to see it at once," and the chief's secretary laid a yellow slip face upward on his desk. allison, who was watching closely, saw a demonstration of the reason why official washington maintained that the chief of the postal inspection service had the best "poker face" in the capital. not a muscle in his countenance changed as he read the telegram and then glanced up at allison, continuing his sentence precisely where he had been interrupted: "reason to suppose that the thief is going to stop there. this wire from rogers, the postmaster at columbus, announces the loss of a fourth package of bills. fifty thousand this time. that's the biggest yet and it brings the total deficit up to one hundred thousand dollars. rogers says that the banks are demanding instant action and threatening to take the case to headquarters, which means that it'll spread all over the papers. congress will start an investigation, some of us will lose our official heads, and, in the mix-up, the man who's responsible for the losses will probably make a clean getaway." then, with a glance at the clock which faced his desk, "there's a train for columbus in twenty minutes, allison. can you make it?" "it's less than ten minutes to the station," replied the operative. "that gives me plenty of leeway." "well, move and move fast," snapped the chief. "i'll wire columbus that you've been given complete charge of the case; but try to keep it away from the papers as long as you can. the department has come in for enough criticism lately without complicating the issue from the outside. good luck." and allison was out of the door almost before he had finished speaking. allison reached columbus that night, but purposely delayed reporting for work until the following morning. in the first place there was no telling how long the case would run and he felt that it was the part of wisdom to get all the rest he could in order to start fresh. the "poison-pen" puzzle hadn't been exactly easy to solve, and his visit to washington, though brief, had been sufficiently long for him to absorb some of the nervous excitement which permeated the department. then, too, he figured that postmaster rogers would be worn out by another day of worry and that both of them would be the better for a night's undisturbed sleep. nine o'clock the next morning, however, saw him seated in one of the comfortable chairs which adorned the postmaster's private office. rogers, who did not put in an appearance until ten, showed plainly the results of the strain under which he was laboring, for he was a political appointee who had been in office only a comparatively short time, a man whose temperament resented the attacks launched by the opposition and who felt that publication of the facts connected with the lost one hundred thousand dollars would spell ruin, both to his own hopes and those of the local organization. allison found that the chief had wired an announcement of his coming the day before and that rogers was almost pitifully relieved to know that the case was in the hands of the man who had solved nearly a score of the problems which had arisen in the service during the past few years. "how much do you know about the case?" inquired the postmaster. "only what i learned indirectly and from what the chief told me," was allison's reply. "i understand that approximately one hundred thousand dollars is missing from this post office" (here rogers instinctively winced as he thought of the criticism which this announcement would cause if it were made outside the office), "but i haven't any of the details." "neither have we, unfortunately," was the answer. "if we had had a few more we might have been able to prevent the last theft. you know about that, of course." "the fifty thousand dollars? yes. the chief told me that you had wired." "well, that incident is typical of the other three. banks in various parts of the country have been sending rather large sums of money through the mails to their correspondents here. there's nothing unusual in that at this time of the year. but within the past five or six weeks there have been four packages--or, rather, large envelopes--of money which have failed to be accounted for. they ranged all the way from ten thousand dollars, the first loss, to the fifty thousand dollars which disappeared within the past few days. i purposely delayed wiring washington until we could make a thorough search of the whole place, going over the registry room with a fine-tooth comb--" "thus warning every man in it that he was under suspicion," muttered allison. "what was that?" rogers inquired. "nothing--nothing at all. just talking to myself. far from a good habit, but don't mind it. i've got some queer ones. you didn't find anything, of course?" "in the building? no, not a thing. but i thought it best to make a thorough clean-up here before i bothered washington with a report." "what about the men who've been working on the case up to this time?" "not one of them has been able to turn up anything that could be dignified by the term clue, as i believe you detectives call it." "yes, that's the right word," agreed the operative. "at least all members of the detective-story-writers' union employ it frequently enough to make it fit the case. what lines have boyd and the other men here been following?" "at my suggestion they made a careful examination into the private lives of all employees of the post-office, including myself," rogers answered, a bit pompously. "i did not intend to evade the slightest responsibility in the matter, so i turned over my bankbook, the key to my safe-deposit vault and even allowed them to search my house from cellar to garret." "was this procedure followed with respect to all the other employees in the building?" "no, only one or two of the highest--personal friends of mine whom i could trust to keep silent. i didn't care to swear out search warrants for the residences of all the people who work here, and that's what it would have meant if they had raised any objection. in their cases the investigation was confined to inquiries concerning their expenditures in the neighborhood, unexpected prosperity, and the like." "with what result?" "none at all. from all appearances there isn't a soul in this building who has had ten cents more during the past six weeks than he possessed in any like period for two years back." "did boyd or any of the other department operatives ask to see the plans of the post office?" inquired allison, taking another tack. "the what?" "the plans of the post-office--the blue print prepared at the time that the building was erected." "no. why should they?" "i thought they might have been interested in it, that's all," was allison's answer, but anyone who knew him would have noted that his tone was just a trifle too nonchalant to be entirely truthful. "by the way," added the operative, "might i see it?" "the blue print?" "yes. you will probably find it in the safe. if you'll have some one look it up, i'll be back in half an hour to examine it," said allison. "meanwhile, i'll talk to boyd and the other men already on the ground and see if i can dig anything out of what they've discovered." but boyd and his associates were just as relieved as rogers had been to find that the case had been placed in allison's hands. four weeks and more of steady work had left them precisely where they had commenced--"several miles back of that point," as one of them admitted, "for three more stunts have been pulled off right under our eyes." the personal as well as the official record of every man and woman in the columbus post office had been gone over with a microscope, without the slightest result. if the germ of dishonesty was present, it was certainly well hidden. "we'll try another and more powerful lens," allison stated, as he turned back to the postmaster's private office. "by the way, boyd, have you or any of your men been in the service more than four years?" "no, i don't think any of us has. what has that got to do with it?" "not a thing in the world, as far as your ability is concerned, but there is one point that every one of you overlooked--because you never heard of it. i'm going to try it out myself now and i'll let you know what develops." with that allison turned and sauntered back into rogers's office. there, spread upon the desk, was the missing blue print, creased and dusty from disuse. "first time you ever saw this, eh?" allison inquired of the postmaster. "the first time i even knew it was there," admitted that official. "how'd you know where to find it?" "i didn't--but there's an ironclad rule of the department that plans of this nature are to be kept under lock and key for just such emergencies as this. but i guess your predecessor was too busy to worry you with details." rogers grunted. it was an open secret that the postmaster who had preceded him had not been any too friendly to his successor. allison did not pursue the subject but spread the plan upon an unoccupied table so that he could examine it with care. "if you'll be good enough to lock that door, postmaster," he directed, "i'll show you something else about your building that you didn't know. but i don't want anybody else coming in while we're discussing it." puzzled, but feeling that the government detective ought to be allowed to handle things in his own way, rogers turned the key in the lock and came over to the table where allison stood. "do you see that little square marked with a white star and the letter 'l'?" asked elmer. "yes, what is it?" "what is this large room next to it?" countered the operative. "that's the--why, that's the registry room!" "precisely. and concealed in the wall in a spot known only to persons familiar with this blue print, is a tiny closet, or 'lookout.' that's what the 'l' means and that's the reason that there's a strict rule about guarding plans of this nature very carefully." "you mean to say that a place has been provided for supervision of the registry division--a room from which the clerks can be watched without their knowledge?" "exactly--and such a precaution has been taken in practically every post office of any size in the country. only the older men in the service know about it, which is the reason that neither boyd nor any of his men asked to see this set of plans. the next step is to find the key to the lookout and start in on a very monotonous spell of watchful waiting. you have the bunch of master keys, of course?" "yes, they're in the safe where the plans were kept. just a moment and i'll get them." when rogers produced the collection of keys, allison ran hurriedly over them and selected one which bore, on the handle, a small six-pointed star corresponding to the mark on the blue print. "want to go up with me and investigate the secret chamber?" he inquired. "i certainly do," agreed rogers. "but there's one point where this room won't help us in the slightest. how did the thief get the mail containing the money out of the building? you know the system that maintains in the registry room? it's practically impossible for a sheet of paper to be taken out of there, particularly when we are on guard, as we are now." "that's true," allison admitted, "but it's been my experience that problems which appear the most puzzling are, after all, the simplest of explanation. you remember the philadelphia mint robbery--the one that drummond solved in less than six hours? this may prove to be just as easy." there allison was wrong, dead wrong--as he had to admit some ten days later, when, worn with the strain of sitting for hours at a time with his eyes glued to the ventilator which masked the opening to the lookout, he finally came to the conclusion that something would have to be done to speed things up. it was true that no new robberies had occurred in the meantime, but neither had any of the old ones been punished. the lost one hundred thousand dollars was still lost; though the department, with the aid of the treasury officials, had seen that the banks were reimbursed. "the decoy letter," thought allison, "is probably the oldest dodge in the world. but, who knows, it may work again in this case--provided we stage-manage it sufficiently carefully." with the assistance of the cashier of one of the local banks elmer arranged to have a dummy package of money forwarded by mail from new york. it was supposed to contain thirty-five thousand dollars in cash, and all the formalities were complied with precisely as if thirty-five thousand-dollar bills were really inside the envelope, instead of as many sheets of blank paper carefully arranged. on the morning of the day the envelope was due to reach columbus, allison took up his position close to the grille in the lookout, his eyes strained to catch the slightest suspicious movement below. hour after hour passed uneventfully until, almost immediately below him, he saw a man drop something on the floor. two envelopes had slipped from his hands and he stooped to pick them up--that was all. but what carried a thrill to the operative in the lookout was the fact that one of the envelopes was the dummy sent from new york and that, when the man straightened up, he had only _one_ of the two in his hands. the dummy had disappeared! allison rubbed his eyes and looked again. no, he was right. the postal clerk had, in some manner, disposed of the envelope supposed to contain thirty-five thousand dollars and he was going about his work in precisely the same way as before. "wait a minute," allison argued to himself. "there's something missing besides the envelope! what is it?" a moment later he had the clue to the whole affair--the jaws of the clerk, which allison had previously and subconsciously noted were always hard at work on a wad of gum, now were at rest for the first time since the operative had entered the lookout! the chewing gum and the dummy packet had disappeared at the same time! it didn't take elmer more than thirty seconds to reach rogers's office, and he entered with the startling announcement that "an envelope containing thirty-five thousand dollars had just disappeared from the registry room." "what?" demanded the postmaster. "how do you know? i haven't received any report of it." "no, and you probably wouldn't for some time," elmer retorted. "but it happens that i saw it disappear." "then you know where it is?" "i can lay my hands on it--and probably the rest of the missing money--inside of one minute. let's pay a visit to the registry room." before entering the section, however, allison took the precaution of posting men at both of the doors. "after i'm inside," he directed, "don't allow anyone to leave on any pretext whatever. and stand ready for trouble in case it develops. come on, mr. rogers." once in the room devoted to the handling of registered mail, allison made directly for the desk under the lookout. the occupant regarded their approach with interest but, apparently, without a trace of anxiety. "i'd like to have that letter supposed to contain thirty-five thousand dollars which you dropped on the floor a few moments ago," elmer remarked in a quiet, almost conversational tone. except for a sudden start, the clerk appeared the picture of innocence. "what letter?" he parried. "you know what one!" snapped allison, dropping his suave manner and moving his hand significantly toward his coat pocket. "will you produce it--or shall i?" "i--i don't know what you are talking about," stammered the clerk. "no? well, i'll show you!" and the operative's hands flashed forward and there was a slight click as a pair of handcuffs snapped into place. "now, mr. rogers, you'll be good enough to watch me carefully, as your evidence will probably be needed in court. i'll show you as simple and clever a scheme as i've ever run across." with that allison dropped to the floor, wormed his way under the table-desk, tugged at something for a moment and then rose, holding five large envelopes in his hands! "there's your lost one hundred thousand dollars," he explained, "and a dummy packet of thirty-five thousand dollars to boot. thought you could get away with it indefinitely, eh?" he inquired of the handcuffed clerk. "if you'd stopped with the one hundred thousand dollars, as you'd probably intended to do, you might have. but that extra letter turned the trick. too bad it contained only blank paper"--and he ripped the envelope open to prove his assertion. "but--but--i don't understand," faltered rogers. "how did this man work it right under our eyes?" "he didn't," declared allison. "he tried to work it right under mine, but he couldn't get away with it. the plan was simplicity itself. he'd slip an envelope which he knew contained a large sum of money out of the pile as it passed him--he hadn't signed for them, so he wasn't taking any special risk--drop it on the floor, stoop over, and, if he wasn't being watched, attach it to the _bottom_ of his desk with a wad of chewing gum. you boasted that you went over the room with a fine-tooth comb, but who would think of looking on the under side of this table. the idea, of course, was that he'd wait for the storm to blow over--because the letters could remain in their hiding places for months, if necessary--and then start on a lifelong vacation with his spoils as capital. but he made the error of overcapitalization and i very much fear that he'll put in at least ten years at leavenworth or morgantown. but i'd like to bet he never chews another piece of gum!" * * * * * "that," continued quinn, as he tossed another pink wrapper into the wastebasket, "i consider the simplest and cleverest scheme to beat the government that i ever heard of--better even than cochrane's plan in connection with the robbery of the philadelphia mint, because it didn't necessitate any outside preparation at all. the right job, a piece of gum, and there you are. but you may be sure that whenever an important letter disappears nowadays, one of the first places searched by the postal inspection operatives is the lower side of the desks and tables. you can't get away with a trick twice in the same place." xii "the double code" it was one night in early fall that bill quinn and i were browsing around the library in the house that he had called "home" ever since a counterfeiter's bullet incapacitated him from further active work in the secret service. prior to that time he had lived, as he put it, "wherever he hung his hat," but now there was a comfortable little house with a den where quinn kept the more unusual, and often gruesome, relics which brought back memories of the past. there, hanging on the wall with a dark-brown stain still adorning the razorlike edge, was a chinese hatchet which had doubtless figured in some tong war on the coast. below was an ordinary twenty-five-cent piece, attached to the wall paper with chewing gum--"just as it once aided in robbing the treasury of nearly a million dollars," quinn assured me. in another part of the room was a frame containing what appeared to be a bit torn from the wrapping of a package, with the canceled stamp and a half-obliterated postmark as the only clues to the murder of the man who had received it, and, beside the bookcases, which contained a wide range of detective literature, hung a larger frame in which were the finger prints of more than a score of criminals, men bearing names practically unknown to the public, but whose exploits were bywords in the various governmental detective services. it was while glancing over the contents of the bookcase that i noted one volume which appeared strangely out of place in this collection of the fictional romances of crime. "what's this doing here?" i inquired, taking down a volume of _the giant raft_, by jules verne. "verne didn't write detective stories, did he?" "no," replied quinn, "and it's really out of place in the bookcase. if possible, i'd like to have it framed and put on the wall with the rest of the relics--for it's really more important than any of them, from the standpoint of value to the nation. that quarter on the wall over there--the one which figured in the sugar fraud case--cost the government in the neighborhood of a million dollars, but this book probably saved a score of millions and hundreds of lives as well. if it hadn't been for the fact that thurber of the navy department knew his jules vernes even better than he did his bible, it's quite possible that-- "well, there's no use telling the end of the story before the beginning. make yourself comfortable and i'll see if i can recall the details of the case." * * * * * remember dr. heinrich albert? [quinn inquired, after we had both stretched out in front of the open fire]. theoretically, the herr doktor was attached to the german embassy in washington merely in an advisory and financial capacity. he and haniel von heimhausen--the same counselor that the present german government wanted to send over here as ambassador after the signing of the peace treaty--were charged with the solution of many of the legal difficulties which arose in connection with the business of the big red brick dwelling on massachusetts avenue. but while von heimhausen was occupied with the legal end of the game, doctor albert attended to many of the underground details which went unsuspected for many years. it was he, for example, who managed the bidding for the wireless station in the philippines--the plan which permitted the german government to dictate the location of the station and to see to it that the towers were so placed where they would be most useful to berlin. he undoubtedly worked with von papen and boy-ed during the early years of the war--years in which this precious trio, either with or without the knowledge of count von bernstorff, sought by every means to cripple american shipping, violate american neutrality, and make a laughingstock of american diplomatic methods. what's more, they got away with it for months, not because the secret service and the department of justice weren't hot on their trail, but because the germans were too cagy to be caught and you can't arrest a diplomat just on suspicion. during the months which followed the first of august, nineteen fourteen, practically every one of the government's detective services was called upon in some way to pry into the affairs of the embassy staff. but the brunt of the work naturally devolved upon the two organizations directly concerned with preventing flagrant breaches of neutrality--the secret service and the department of justice. every time that doctor albert, or any other official of the german government, left washington he was trailed by anywhere from one to five men. every move he made was noted and reported to headquarters, with the result that the state department had a very good idea of the names of the men who were being used to forward germany's ends, even though it knew comparatively little about what was actually planned. the attachés were entirely too clever to carry on compromising conversations in the open, and their appointments were made in such a manner as effectually to prevent the planting of a dictaphone or any other device by which they might be overheard. the directions to the men who were responsible for the working of the two services were: every attaché of the german embassy is to be guarded with extreme care, day and night. reports are to be made through the usual channels and, in the event that something unusual is observed, divisional headquarters is to be notified instantly, the information being transmitted to washington before any final action is taken. this last clause, of course, was inserted to prevent some hot-headed operative from going off half-cocked and thus spoiling the state department's plans. as long as albert and his associates were merely "guarded" they couldn't enter any formal complaint. but, given half a chance, they would have gotten on their official dignity and demanded that the espionage cease. from the state department's point of view it was an excellent rule, but gene barlow and the other service men assigned to follow albert couldn't see it in that light. "what's the idea, anyhow?" gene growled one night as his pet taxicab dashed down massachusetts avenue in the wake of the big touring car that was carrying the german attaché to the union station. "here we have to be on the job at all hours, just to watch this dutchman and see what he does. and," with a note of contempt, "he never does anything worth reporting. sees half a dozen people, lunches at the german-american club, drops in at two or three offices downtown, and then back here again. if they'd only let us waylay him and get hold of that black bag that he always carts around there'd be nothing to it. some day i'm going to do that little thing, just to see what happens." but barlow took it out in threats. secret service men find pleasure in stating what they are going to do "some day"--but the quality of implicit obedience has been drilled into them too thoroughly for them to forget it, which is possibly the reason why they take such a sheer and genuine delight in going ahead when the restrictions are finally lifted. it was in new york, more than two years after the war had commenced, that barlow got his first opportunity to "see what would happen." in the meantime, he had been assigned to half a dozen other cases, but always returned to the shadowing of doctor albert because he was the one man who had been eminently successful in that work. the german had an almost uncanny habit of throwing his pursuers off the trail whenever he wanted to and in spite of the efforts of the cleverest men in the service had disappeared from time to time. the resumption of unrestricted submarine warfare and the delicacy of the diplomatic situation which ensued made it imperative that the "man with the saber scar," as doctor albert was known, be kept constantly under surveillance. "stick to him, gene, and don't bother about reporting until you are certain that he will stay put long enough for you to phone," were the instructions that barlow received. "the doctor must be watched every moment that he's away from the embassy and it's up to you to do it." "anything else beside watching him?" inquired the operative, hopefully. "no," smiled the chief, "there isn't to be any rough stuff. we're on the verge of an explosion as it is, and anyone who pulls the hair trigger will not only find himself out of a job, but will have the doubtful satisfaction of knowing that he's responsible for wrecking some very carefully laid plans. where albert goes, who he talks with and, if possible, a few details of what they discuss, is all that's wanted." "wouldn't like to have a piece of the kaiser's mustache or anything of that kind, would you, chief?" barlow retorted. "i could get that for you a whole lot easier than i could find out what the man with the saber scar talks about. he's the original george b. careful. never was known to take a chance. wouldn't bet a nickel against a hundred dollars that the sun would come up to-morrow and always sees to it that his conferences are held behind bolted doors. they even pull down the shades so that no lip reader with a pair of field glasses can get a tip as to what they're talking about." "that's the reason you were picked for this case," was the chief's reply. "any strong-arm man could whale albert over the head and throw him in the river. that wouldn't help any. what we need is information concerning what his plans are, and it takes a clever man to get that." "all bull and a yard wide!" laughed gene, but the compliment pleased him, nevertheless. "i'll watch him, but let me know when the lid comes off and i can use other methods." the chief promised that he would--and it was not more than three weeks later that he had an opportunity to make good. "barlow," he directed, speaking over the long-distance phone to the operative in new york, "the department of justice has just reported that doctor albert is in receipt of a document of some kind--probably a letter of instruction from berlin--which it is vital that we have at once. our information is that the message is written on a slip of oiled paper carried inside a dummy lead pencil. it's possible that the doctor has destroyed it, but it isn't probable. can you get it?" "how far am i allowed to go?" inquired gene, hoping for permission to stage a kidnaping of the german attaché, but fully expecting these instructions which followed--orders that he was to do nothing that would cause an open breach, nothing for which doctor albert could demand reparation or even an apology. "in other words," barlow said to himself, as he hung up the phone, "i'm to accomplish the impossible, blindfolded and with my hands tied. wonder whether paula would have a hunch--" paula was barlow's sweetheart, a pretty little brunette who earned a very good salary as private secretary to one of the leading lights of wall street--which accounted for the fact that the operative had learned to rely upon her quick flashes of intuitive judgment for help in a number of situations which had required tact as well as action. they were to be married whenever gene's professional activities subsided sufficiently to allow him to remain home at least one night a month, but, meanwhile, paula maintained that she would as soon be the wife of an african explorer--"because at least i would know that he wouldn't be back for six months, while i haven't any idea whether you'll be out of town two days or two years." after they had talked the albert matter over from all angles, paula inquired, "where would your friend with the saber scar be likely to carry the paper?" "either in his pocket or in the black bag that he invariably has with him." "hum!" she mused, "if it's in his pocket i don't see that there is anything you can do, short of knocking him down and taking it away from him, and that's barred by the rules of the game. but if it is in the mysterious black bag.... is the doctor in town now?" "yes, he's at the astor, probably for two or three days. i left dwyer and french on guard there while i, presumably, snatched a little sleep. but i'd rather have your advice than any amount of rest." "thanks," was the girl's only comment, for her mind was busy with the problem. "there's apparently no time to lose, so i'll inform the office the first thing in the morning that i won't be down, meet you in front of the astor, and we'll see what happens. just let me stick with you, inconspicuously, and i think that i can guarantee at least an opportunity to lift the bag without giving the german a chance to raise a row." thus it was that, early the next day, gene barlow was joined by a distinctly personable young woman who, after a moment's conversation, strolled up and down broadway in front of the hotel. some twenty minutes later a man whose face had been disfigured by a saber slash received at heidelberg came down the steps and asked for a taxi. but barlow, acting under directions from paula, had seen that there were no taxis to be had. a flash of his badge and some coin of the realm had fixed that. so dr. heinrich albert, of the german embassy, was forced to take a plebeian surface car--as paula had intended that he should. the secret service operative and his pretty companion boarded the same car a block farther down, two other government agents having held it sufficiently long at forty-fourth street to permit of this move. worming their way through the crowd when their prey changed to the sixth avenue elevated, gene and paula soon reached points of vantage on either side of the german, who carried his black bag tightly grasped in his right hand, and the trio kept this formation until they reached fiftieth street, when the girl apparently started to make her way toward the door. something caused her to stumble, however, and she pitched forward right into the arms of the german, who by that time had secured a seat and had placed his bag beside him, still guarding it with a protecting arm. before the foreigner had time to gather his wits, he found himself with a pretty girl literally in his lap--a girl who was manifestly a lady and who blushed to the tips of her ears as she apologized for her awkwardness. even if the german had been a woman-hater there would have been nothing for him to do but to assist her to her feet, and that, necessarily, required the use of both hands. as it happened, doctor albert was distinctly susceptible to feminine charms, and there was something about this girl's smile which was friendly, though embarrassed. so he spent longer than was strictly essential in helping her to the door--she appeared to have turned her ankle--and then returned to his seat only to find that his portfolio was missing! recriminations and threats were useless. a score of people had left the car and, as the guard heartlessly refused to stop the train before the next station, there was naturally not a trace of the girl or the man who had accompanied her. by that time, in fact, barlow and paula had slipped into the shelter of a neighboring hotel lobby and were busy inspecting the contents of doctor albert's precious brief case. "even if there's nothing in it," laughed the girl, "we've had the satisfaction of scaring him to death." gene said nothing, but pawed through the papers in frantic haste. "a slip of oiled paper," he muttered. "by the lord harry! here it is!" and he produced a pencil which his trained fingers told him was lighter than it should be. with a wrench he broke off the metal tip that held the eraser, and from within the wooden spindle removed a tightly wrapped roll of very thin, almost transparent paper, covered with unintelligible lettering. "what's on it?" demanded paula. "i'll never tell you," was barlow's reply. "it would take a better man than i am to decipher this," and he read off: "i i i t f b b t t x o...." "code?" interrupted the girl. "sure it is--and apparently a peach." the next moment he had slipped the paper carefully into an inside pocket, crammed the rest of the papers back into the brief case, and was disappearing into a phone booth. "better get down to work, dear," he called over his shoulder. "i'm going to report to the office here and then take this stuff down to washington!" and that was the last that paula saw of him for a week. six hours later barlow entered the chief's office in the treasury department and reported that he had secured the code message. "so new york phoned," was the only comment from the man who directed the destinies of the secret service. "take it right up to the navy department and turn it over to thurber, the librarian. he'll be able to read it, if anybody can." thurber, gene knew, was the man who was recognizedly the leading authority on military codes and ciphers in the united states, the man who had made a hobby as well as a business of decoding mysterious messages and who had finally deciphered the famous "square letter" code, though it took him months to do it. "he'll have to work faster than that this time," thought barlow, as he made his way toward the librarian's office on the fourth floor of the big gray-stone building. "time's at a premium and germany moves too fast to waste any of it." but thurber was fully cognizant of the necessity for quick action. he had been warned that barlow was bringing the dispatch and the entire office was cleared for work. spreading the oiled paper on a table top made of clear glass, the librarian turned on a battery of strong electric lights underneath so that any watermark or secret writing would have been at once apparent. but there was nothing on the sheet except line after line of meaningless letters. "it's possible, of course, that there may be some writing in invisible ink on the sheet," admitted the cipher expert. "but the fact that oiled paper is used would seem to preclude that. the code itself may be any one of several varieties and it's a matter of trying 'em all until you hit upon the right one." "i thought that poe's story of 'the gold bug' claimed that any cipher could be read if you selected the letter that appeared most frequently and substituted for it the letter 'e,' which is used most often in english, and so on down the list," stated barlow. "so it did. but there are lots of things that poe didn't know about codes." thurber retorted, his eyes riveted to the sheet before him. "besides, that was fiction and the author knew just how the code was constructed, while this is fact and we have to depend upon hard work and blind luck. "there are any number of arbitrary systems which might have been used in writing this message," he continued. "the army clock code is one of them--the one in which a number is added to every letter figure, dependent upon the hour at which the message is written. but i don't think that applies in this case. the cipher doesn't look like it--though i'll have to admit that it doesn't look like any that i've come across before. let's put it on the blackboard and study it from across the room. that often helps in concentrating." "you're not going to write the whole thing on the board?" queried the operative. "no, only the first fifteen letters or so," and thurber put down this line: i i i t f b b t t x o r q w s b b "translated into what we call 'letter figures,'" he went on, "that would be --the system where 'a' is denoted by , 'b' by , and so on. no, that's still meaningless. that repetition of the letter 'i' at the beginning of the message is what makes it particularly puzzling. "if you don't mind, i'll lock the door and get to work on this in earnest. where can i reach you by phone?" barlow smiled at this polite dismissal and, stating that he would be at headquarters for the rest of the evening and that they would know where to reach him after that, left the office--decidedly doubtful as to thurber's ability to read the message. long after midnight gene answered a ring from the phone beside his bed and through a haze of sleep heard the voice of the navy librarian inquiring if he still had the other papers which had been in doctor albert's bag. "no," replied the operative, "but i can get them. they are on top of the chief's desk. nothing in them, though. went over them with a microscope." "just the same," directed thurber, "i'd like to have them right away. i think i'm on the trail, but the message is impossible to decipher unless we get the code word. it may be in some of the other papers." barlow found the librarian red-eyed from his lack of sleep and the strain of the concentration over the code letter. but when they had gone over the papers found in the black bag, even thurber had to admit that he was checkmated. "somewhere," he maintained, "is the one word which will solve the whole thing. i know the type of cipher. it's one that is very seldom used; in fact, the only reference to it that i know of is in jules verne's novel _the giant raft_. it's a question of taking a key word, using the letter figures which denote this, and adding these to the letter figures of the original letter. that will give you a series of numbers which it is impossible to decipher unless you know the key word. i feel certain that this is a variation of that system, for the fact that two letters appear together so frequently would seem to indicate that the numbers which they represent are higher than twenty-six, the number of the letters in the alphabet." "one word!" muttered barlow. then, seizing what was apparently a memorandum sheet from the pile of albert's papers, he exclaimed: "here's a list that neither the chief nor i could make anything of. see? it has twelve numbers, which might be the months of the year, with a name or word behind each one!" "yes," replied thurber, disconsolately, "i saw that the first thing. but this is october and the word corresponding to the number ten is 'wilhelmstrasse'--and that doesn't help at all. i tried it." "then try 'hohenzollern,' the september word!" snapped barlow. "this message was presumably written in berlin and therefore took some time to get over here." "by george! that's so! a variation of the 'clock code' as well as verne's idea. here, read off the letters and i'll put them on the board with the figures representing hohenzollern underneath. take the first fifteen as before." when they had finished, the blackboard bore the following, the first line being the original code letters, the second the letter figures of these, and the third the figures of the word "hohenzollern" with the first "h" repeated for the fifteenth letter: i i i t f b b t t x o r q w s b b i ii t f bb tt x o r q w s bb "why thirty-five for that double 'i' and twenty-eight for the double 'b's'?" asked barlow. "add twenty-six--the total number of letters in the alphabet--to the letter figure for the letter itself," said thurber. "that's the one beauty of this code, one of the things which helps to throw you off the scent. now subtracting the two lines we have: " "we've got it!" he cried an instant later, as he stepped back to look at the figures and read off: "a t l a n t i c f l e e t "it was a double code, after all," thurber stated when he had deciphered the entire message by the same procedure and had reported his discovery to the secretary of the navy over the phone. "practically infallible, too, save for the fact that i, as well as doctor albert, happened to be familiar with jules verne. that, plus the doctor's inability to rely on his memory and therefore leaving his key words in his brief case, rendered the whole thing pretty easy." "yes," thought gene, "plus my suggestion of the september word, rather than the october one, and plus paula's quick wit--that's really all there was to it!" but he kept his thoughts to himself, preferring to allow thurber to reap all the rewards that were coming to him for the solution of the "double code." * * * * * "do you know what the whole message was?" i inquired, as quinn stopped his narrative. "you'll find it pasted on the back of that copy of _the giant raft_," replied the former operative. "that's why i claim that the book ought to be preserved as a souvenir of an incident that saved millions of dollars and hundreds of lives." turning to the back of the verne book i saw pasted there the following significant lines: atlantic fleet sails (from) hampton roads (at) six (o'clock) morning of seventeenth. eight u-boats will be waiting. advise necessary parties and be ready (to) seek safety. success (of) attack inevitable. "that means that if thurber hadn't been able to decipher that code the greater part of our fleet would have been sunk by an unexpected submarine attack, launched by a nation with whom we weren't even at war?" i demanded, when i had finished the message. "precisely," agreed quinn. "but if you'll look up the records you'll find that the fleet did not sail on schedule, while dr. heinrich albert and the entire staff from the house on massachusetts avenue were deported before many more weeks had passed. there was no sense in raising a fuss about the incident at the time, for von bernstorff would have denied any knowledge of the message and probably would have charged that the whole thing was a plant, designed to embroil the united states in the war. so it was allowed to rest for the time being and merely jotted down as another score to be wiped off the slate later on. "but you have to admit that a knowledge of jules verne came in very handy--quite as much so, in fact, as did a knowledge of the habits and disposition of white mice in another case." "which one was that?" quinn merely pointed to the top of his bookcase, where there reposed a stuffed white mouse, apparently asleep. "that's a memento of the case," replied the former operative. "i'll tell you of it the next time you drop in." xiii the trail of the white mice "the united states secret service," announced bill quinn, "is by long odds the best known branch of the governmental detective bureaus. the terror which the continental crook feels at the sound of the name 'scotland yard' finds its echo on this side of the atlantic whenever a criminal knows that he has run afoul of the u. s. s. s. for uncle sam never forgives an injury or forgets a wrong. sooner or later he's going to get his man--no matter how long it takes nor how much money it costs. "but the secret service, strictly speaking, is only one branch of the organization. there are others which work just as quietly and just as effectively. the department of justice, which had charge of the violation of neutrality laws, banking, and the like; the treasury department, which, through the customs service and the bureau of internal revenue, wages constant war on the men and women who think they can evade the import regulations and the laws against illicit manufacture of alcohol; the pension bureau of the interior department, which is called upon to handle hundreds of frauds every year; and the post office department, which guards the millions of dollars intrusted to the mails. "each of these has its own province. each works along its own line in conjunction with the others, and each of them is, in reality, a secret organization which performs a vastly important service to the nation as a whole. when you speak of the secret service, the treasury department's organization comes immediately to mind--coupled with a panorama of counterfeiters, anarchists, revolutionaries, and the like. but the field of the secret service is really limited when compared to the scope of the other organizations. "look around this room"--and he made a gesture which included the four walls of the library den in which we were seated, a room in which the usual decorations had been replaced by a strange collection of unusual and, in a number of instances, gruesome relics. "every one of those objects is a memento of some exploit of the men engaged in secret service," quinn went on. "that chinese hatchet up there came very close to being buried in the skull of a man in san diego, but its principal mission in life was the solution of the mystery surrounding the smuggling of thousands of pounds of opium. that water-stained cap was fished out of the missouri after its owner had apparently committed suicide--but the pension bureau located him seven years later, with the aid of a fortune teller in seattle. at the side of the bookcase there you will find several of the original poison-pen letters which created so much consternation in kansas city a few years ago, letters which allison of the postal inspection service finally traced to their source after the local authorities had given up the case as impossible of solution. "the woman whose picture appears on the other wall was known as mrs. armitage--and that was about all that they did know about her, save that she was connected with one of the foreign organizations and that in some mysterious way she knew everything that was going on in the state department almost as soon as it was started. and there, under that piece of silk which figured in one of the boldest smuggling cases that the treasury department ever tackled, is the blurred postmark which eventually led to the discovery of the man who murdered montgomery marshall--a case in which our old friend sherlock holmes would have reveled. but it's doubtful if he could have solved it any more skillfully than did one of the post office operatives." "what's the significance of that white mouse on the mantelpiece?" i inquired, sensing the fact that quinn was in one of his story-telling moods. "it hasn't any significance," replied the former government agent, "but it has a story--one which illustrates my point that all the nation's detective work isn't handled by the secret service, by a long shot. did you ever hear of h. gordon fowler, alias w. c. evans?" "no," i replied, "i don't think i ever did." "well, a lot of people have--to their sorrow," laughed quinn, reaching for his pipe. * * * * * no one appears to know what fowler's real name is [continued the former operative]. he traveled under a whole flock of aliases which ran the gamut of the alphabet from andrews to zachary, but, to save mixing things up, suppose that we assume that his right name was fowler. he used it for six months at one time, out in minneapolis, and got away with twenty thousand dollars' worth of stuff. for some time previous to fowler's entrance upon the scene various wholesale houses throughout the country had been made the victims of what appeared to be a ring of bankruptcy experts--men who would secure credit for goods, open a store, and then "fail." meanwhile the merchandise would have mysteriously vanished and the proprietor would be away on a "vacation" from which, of course, he would never return. on the face of it this was a matter to be settled solely by the wholesalers' credit association, but the postal inspection service got into it through the fact that the mails were palpably being used with intent to defraud and therefore uncle sam came to the aid of the business men. on the day that the matter was reported to washington the chief of the postal inspection service pushed the button which operated a buzzer in the outer office and summoned hal preston, the chap who later on was responsible for the solution of the marshall murder mystery. "hal," said the chief, with a smile, "here's a case i know you'll like. it's right in the line of routine and it ought to mean a lot of traveling around the country--quick jumps at night and all that sort of stuff." preston grunted, but said nothing. you couldn't expect to draw the big cases every time, and, besides, there was no telling when something might break even in the most prosaic of assignments. "grant, wilcox & company, in boston, report that they've been stung twice in the same place by a gang of bankruptcy sharks," the chief went on. "and they're not the only ones who have suffered. here's a list of the concerns and the men that they've sold to. you'll see that it covers the country from hoquiam, washington, to montclair, new jersey--so they appear to have their organization pretty well in hand. ordinarily we wouldn't figure in this thing at all--but the gang made the mistake of placing their orders through the mail and now it's up to us to land 'em. here's the dope. hop to it!" that night, while en route to mount clemens, michigan, where the latest of the frauds had been perpetrated, preston examined the envelope full of evidence and came to a number of interesting conclusions. in the first place the failures had been staged in a number of different localities--erie, pennsylvania, had had one of them under the name of "cole & hill"; there had been another in sioux city, where immerling brothers had failed; metcalf and newman, illinois, had likewise contributed their share, as had minneapolis, newark, columbus, white plains, and newburg, new york; san diego, california; hoquiam, washington, and several other points. but the point that brought hal up with a jerk was the dates attached to each of these affairs. no two of them had occurred within six months of the other and several were separated by as much as a year. "who said this was a gang?" he muttered. "looks a lot more like the work of a single man with plenty of nerve and, from the amount of stuff he got away with, he ought to be pretty nearly in the millionaire class by now. there's over two hundred thousand dollars' worth of goods covered by this report alone and there's no certainty that it is complete. well, here's hoping--it's always easier to trail one man than a whole bunch of 'em." in mount clemens preston found further evidence which tended to prove that the bankruptcy game was being worked by a single nervy individual, posing under the name of "henry gerard." gerard, it appeared, had entered the local field about a year before, apparently with plenty of capital, and had opened two prosperous stores on the principal street. in august, about two months before preston's arrival, the proprietor of the gerard stores had left on what was apparently scheduled for a two weeks' vacation. that was the last that had been heard of him, in spite of the fact that a number of urgent creditors had camped upon his trail very solicitously. the stores had been looted, only enough merchandise being left to keep up the fiction of a complete stock, and gerard had vanished with the proceeds. after making a few guarded inquiries in the neighborhood of the store, preston sought out the house where gerard had boarded during his stay in mount clemens. there he found that the missing merchant, in order to allay suspicion, had paid the rental of his apartment for three months in advance, and that the place had not been touched since, save by the local authorities who had been working on the case. "you won't find a thing there," the chief of police informed hal, in response to a request for information. "gerard's skipped and that's all there is to it. we've been over the place with a fine-tooth comb and there ain't a scrap of evidence. we did find some telegrams torn up in his waste basket, but if you can make anything out of 'em it's more than i can," and he handed over an envelope filled with scraps of finely torn yellow paper. "not the slightest indication of where gerard went?" inquired preston as he tucked the envelope in an inside pocket. "not a bit," echoed the chief. "he may be in china now, so far as we know." "was he married?" "nobody here knows nothin' about him," the chief persisted. "they do say as how he was right sweet on a girl named anna something-or-other who lived in the same block. but she left town before he did, and she 'ain't come back, neither." "what did you say her name was?" "anna vaughan, i b'lieve she called herself. you might ask mrs. morris about her. she had a room at her place, only a few doors away from where gerard stayed." the apartment of the man who had vanished, preston found, was furnished in the manner typical of a thousand other places. every stick of furniture appeared to have seen better days and no two pieces could be said to match. evidently gerard had been practicing economy in his domestic arrangements in order to save all the money possible for a quick getaway. what was more, he had carefully removed everything of a personal nature, save a row of books which decorated the mantel piece in one of the rooms. it was toward these that preston finally turned in desperation. all but one of them were the cheaper grade of fiction, none of which bore any distinguishing marks, but the exception was a new copy of the latest railroad guide. just as preston pounced upon this he heard a chuckle from behind him and, whirling, saw the chief of police just entering the door. "needn't worry with that, young man," he urged. "i've been all through it and there ain't nothin' in it. just thought i'd drop up to see if you'd found anything," he added, in explanation of his sudden appearance. "have you?" "no," admitted the postal operative. "can't say that i have. this is the first piece of personal property that i've been able to locate and you say there is nothing in this?" "nary a clue," persisted the chief, but preston, as if loath to drop the only tangible reminder of gerard, idly flipped the pages of the guide, and then stood it on edge on the table, the covers slightly opened. then, as the chief watched him curiously, he closed the book, opened it again and repeated the operation. "what's the idea? tryin' to make it do tricks?" the chief asked as hal stood the book on edge for the third time. "hardly that. just working on a little theory of my own," was the response, as the post-office man made a careful note of the page at which the guide had fallen open--the same one which had presented itself to view on the two other occasions. "here, would you like to try it?" and he handed the volume to the chief. but that functionary only shrugged his shoulders and replaced the guide upon the mantelpiece. "some more of your highfalutin' detective work, eh?" he muttered. "soon you'll be claimin' that books can talk." "possibly not out loud," smiled hal. "but they can be made to tell very interesting stories now and then, if you know how to handle 'em. there doesn't seem to be much here, chief, so i think i'll go back to the hotel. let me know if anything comes up, will you?" and with that he left. but before returning to the hotel he stopped at the house where anna vaughan had resided and found out from the rather garrulous landlady that gerard had appeared to be rather smitten with the beautiful stranger. "she certainly was dressed to kill," said the woman who ran the establishment. "a big woman and strong as all outdoors. mr. gerard came here three or four nights a week while she was with us and he didn't seem to mind the mice at all." "mind the what?" snapped preston. "the mice--the white mice that she used to keep as pets," explained the landlady. "had half a dozen or more of them running over her shoulders, but i told her that i couldn't stand for that. she could keep 'em in her room if she wanted to, but i had to draw the line somewhere. guess it was on their account that she didn't have any other visitors. s'far as i know mr. gerard was the only one who called on her." "when did miss vaughan leave?" hal inquired. "mrs. vaughan," corrected the woman. "she was a widow--though she was young and pretty enough to have been married any time she wanted to be. guess the men wouldn't stand for them mice, though. she didn't stay very long--just about six weeks. left somewheres about the middle of july." "about two weeks before gerard did?" "about that--though i don't just remember the date." a few more inquiries elicited the fact that mrs. vaughan's room had been rented since her departure, so preston gave up the idea of looking through it for possible connecting links with the expert in bankruptcy. returning to the hotel, the operative settled down to an examination of the scraps of torn telegrams which the chief had handed him. evidently they had been significant, he argued, for gerard had been careful to tear them into small bits, and it was long past midnight before he had succeeded in piecing the messages together, pasting the scraps on glass in case there had been any notations on the reverse of the blank. but when he had finished he found that he had only added one more puzzling aspect to the case. there were three telegrams, filed within a week and all dated just before gerard had left town. "geraldine, anna, may, and florence are in chicago," read the message from evanston, illinois. "george, william, katherine, ray, and stephen still in st. louis," was the wire filed from detroit. the third message, from minneapolis, detailed the fact that "frank, vera, marguerite, joe, and walter are ready to leave st. paul." none of the telegrams was signed, but, merely as a precaution, preston wired evanston, detroit, and minneapolis to find out if there was any record of who had sent them. "agent here recalls message," came the answer from detroit the next day. "filed by woman who refused to give her name. agent says sender was quite large, good-looking, and very well dressed." "anna vaughan!" muttered preston, as he tucked the telegram in his pocket and asked to be shown a copy of the latest railway guide. referring to a note which he had made on the previous evening, hal turned to pages - , the part of the book which had fallen open three times in succession when he had examined it in gerard's rooms, and noted that it was the atchinson, topeka & santa fé time-table, westbound. evidently the missing merchant had invested in a copy of the guide rather than run the risk of leaving telltale time-tables around his apartment, but he had overstepped himself by referring to only one portion of the book. "not the first time that a crook has been just a little too clever," mused preston, with a smile. "if it had been an old copy, there wouldn't have been any evidence--but a new book, opened several times at the same place, can be made to tell tales--his honor, the chief of police, to the contrary." it was clear, therefore, that preston had three leads to work on: anna vaughan, a large, beautiful woman, well-dressed and with an affection for white mice; the clue that gerard was somewhere in the southwest and at least the first names of fourteen men and women connected with the gang. but right there he paused. was there any gang? the dates of the various disappearances tended to prove that there wasn't, but the messages received by gerard certainly appeared to point to the fact that others were connected with the conspiracy to defraud. possibly one of the clerks who had been connected with the gerard stores would be able to throw a little light upon the situation.... it wasn't until hal interviewed the woman who had acted as cashier and manager for the second store that he found the lead he was after. in response to his inquiry as to whether she had ever heard the missing proprietor speak of any of the persons mentioned in the wires, the cashier at first stated definitely that she hadn't, but added, a moment later: "come to think of it, he did. not as people, but as trunks." "what's that?" exclaimed the operative. "trunks?" "yes. i remember sometime last spring, when we were figuring on how much summer goods we ought to carry, i mentioned the matter to mr. gerard, and almost automatically he replied, 'i'll wire for edna and grace.' thinking he meant saleswomen, i reminded him that we had plenty, particularly for the slack season. he colored up a bit, caught his breath, and turned the subject by stating that he always referred to trunks of goods in terms of people's first names--girls for the feminine stuff and men's for the masculine. but edna and grace weren't on your list, were they?" "no," replied preston. "but that doesn't matter. besides, didn't the two trunks of goods arrive?" "yes, they came in a couple of weeks later." "before mrs. vaughan came to town?" "oh yes, some time before she arrived." "i thought so," was preston's reply, and, thanking the girl, he wandered back to the hotel--convinced that he had solved at least one of the mysteries, the question of what gerard did with his surplus "bankrupt stock." it was evidently packed in trunks and shipped to distant points, to be forwarded by the vaughan woman upon instructions from gerard himself. the wires he had torn up were merely confirmatory messages, sent so that he would have the necessary information before making a getaway. "clever scheme, all right," was hal's mental comment. "now the next point is to find some town in the southwest where a new store has been opened within the past two months." that night the telegraph office at mount clemens did more business than it had had for the past year. wires, under the government frank, went out to every town on the atchinson, topeka & santa fé and to a number of adjacent cities. in each case the message was the same: wire name of any new clothing store opened within past two months. also description of proprietor. urgent. preston, u. s. p. i. s. fourteen chiefs of police replied within the next forty-eight hours, but of these only two--leavenworth and fort worth--contained descriptions which tallied with that of henry gerard. so, to facilitate matters, preston sent another wire: has proprietor mentioned in yesterday's wire a wife or woman friend who keeps white mice as pets? fort worth replied facetiously that the owner of the new store there was married, but that his wife had a cat--which might account for the absence of the mice. leavenworth, however, came back with: yes, mrs. noble, wife of owner of outlet store, has white mice for pets. why? never mind reason [preston replied]. watch noble and wife until i arrive. leaving to-day. ten minutes after reaching leavenworth preston was ensconced in the office of the chief of police, outlining the reason for his visit. "i'm certain that noble is the man you want," said the chief, when hal had finished. "he came here some six weeks or more ago and at once leased a store, which he opened a few days later. the description fits him to a t, except for the fact that he's evidently dispensed with the mustache. the vaughan woman is posing as his wife and they've rented a house on the outskirts of town. what do you want me to do? nab 'em right away?" "no," directed the operative. "i'd rather attend to that myself, if you don't object. after trailing them this far, i'd like to go through with it. you might have some men handy, though, in case there's any fuss." just as mr. and mrs. c. k. noble were sitting down to dinner there was a ring at their front-door bell and noble went to see who it was. "i'd like to speak to mr. h. gordon fowler," said preston, his hand resting carelessly in the side pocket of his coat. "no mr. fowler lives here," was the growling reply from the inside. "then mr. w. c. evans or mr. henry gerard will do!" snapped the operative, throwing his shoulder against the partly opened door. noble--or fowler, as he was afterward known--stepped aside as hal plunged through, and then slammed the door behind him. "get him, anna!" he called, throwing the safety bolt into position. the next thing that preston knew, a pair of arms, bare and feminine but strong as iron, had seized him around the waist and he was in imminent danger of being bested by a woman. with a heave and a wriggling twist he broke the hold and turned, just in time to see fowler snatch a revolver from a desk on the opposite side of the room and raise it into position. without an instant's hesitation he leaped to one side, dropped his hand into his coat pocket, and fired. evidently the bullet took effect, for the man across the room dropped his gun, spun clean around and then sank to the floor. as he did so, however, the woman hurled a heavy vase directly at preston's head and the operative sank unconscious. * * * * * "well, go on!" i snapped, when quinn paused. "you sound like a serial story--to be continued in our next. what happened then?" "nothing--beyond the fact that three policemen broke in some ten seconds after hal fired, grabbed mrs. vaughan or whatever her name was, and kept her from beating hal to death, as she certainly would have done in another minute. fowler wasn't badly hurt. in fact, both of them stood trial the next spring--fowler drawing six years and anna vaughan one. incidentally, they sent 'em back to leavenworth to do time and, as a great concession, allowed the woman to take two of her white mice with her. i managed to get one of the other four, and, when it died, had it stuffed as a memento of a puzzling case well solved. "it's a hobby of mine--keeping these relics. that hatchet, for example.... remind me to tell you about it some time. the mice were responsible for finding one man in fifty million--which is something of a job in itself--but the hatchet figured in an even more exciting affair...." xiv wah lee and the flower of heaven "yes, there's quite a story attached to that," remarked bill quinn one evening as the conversation first lagged and then drifted away into silence. we were seated in his den at the time--the "library" which he had ornamented with relics of a score or more of cases in which the various governmental detective services had distinguished themselves--and i came to with a start. "what?" i exclaimed. "story in what?" "in that hatchet--the one on the wall there that you were speculating about. it didn't take a psychological sleuth to follow your eyes and read the look of speculation in them. that's a trick that a 'sparrow cop' could pull!" "well, then, suppose you pay the penalty for your wisdom--and spin the yarn," i retorted, none the less glad of the opportunity to hear the facts behind the sinister red stain which appeared on the blade of the chinese weapon, for i knew that quinn could give them to me if he wished. "frankly, i don't know the full history of the hatchet," came the answer from the other side of the fireplace. "possibly it goes back to the ming dynasty--whenever that was--or possibly it was purchased from a mail-order house in chicago. chop suey isn't the only chinese article made in this country, you know. but my interest in it commenced with the night when ezra marks-- "however, let's start at the beginning." * * * * * marks [continued the former operative] was, as you probably recall, one of the best men ever connected with the customs service. it was he who solved the biggest diamond-smuggling case on record, and he was also responsible for the discovery of the manner in which thirty thousand yards of very valuable silk was being run into the country every year without visiting the custom office. that's a piece of the silk up there, over the picture of mrs. armitage.... it wasn't many months before the affair of the dillingham diamonds that official washington in general and the offices of the customs service in particular grew quite excited over the fact that a lot of opium was finding its way into california. of course, there's always a fair amount of "hop" on the market, provided you know where to look for it, and the government has about as much chance of keeping it out altogether as it has of breaking up the trade in moonshine whisky. the mountaineer is going to have his "licker" and the chink is going to have his dope--no matter what you do. but it's up to the internal revenue bureau and the customs service to see that neither one arrives in wholesale quantities. and that was just what was happening on the coast. in fact, it was coming in so fast that the price was dropping every day and the california authorities fairly burned up the wires 'cross continent with their howls for help. at that time marks--ezra by name and "e. z." by nickname--was comparatively a new member of the force. he had rendered valuable service in boston, however, and the chief sent for him and put the whole thing in his hands. "get out to san diego as quickly as you know how," snapped the chief, tossing over a sheaf of yellow telegraph slips. "there's all the information we have, and apparently you won't get much more out there--unless you dig it up for yourself. all they seem to know is that the stuff is coming in by the carload and is being peddled in all the hop joints at a lower price than ever before. it's up to you to get the details. any help you need will be supplied from the san francisco office, but my advice is to play a lone hand--you're likely to get further than if you have a gang with you all the time." "that's my idear, chief," drawled ezra, who hailed from vermont and had all the new englander's affection for single-handed effort, not because he had the least objection to sharing the glory, but simply because he considered it the most efficient way to work. "i'll get right out there and see how the land lays." "needn't bother to report until you discover something worth while," added the chief. "i'll know that you're on the job and the farther you keep away from headquarters the less suspicion you're likely to arouse." this was the reason that, beyond the fact they knew that an operative named marks had been sent from washington to look into the opium matter, the government agents on the coast were completely in the dark as to the way in which the affair was being handled. in fact, the chief himself was pretty well worried when two months slipped by without a word from ezra.... but the big, raw-boned yankee was having troubles of his own. likewise, he took his instructions very seriously and didn't see the least reason for informing washington of the very patent fact that he had gotten nowhere and found out nothing. "they know where they can reach me," he argued to himself one night, about the time that the chief began to wonder if his man were floating around the bay with a piece of chinese rope about his neck. "unless i get a wire they won't hear anything until i have at least a line on this gang." then, on going over the evidence which he had collected during the weeks that he had been in san diego, he found that there was extremely little of it. discreet questioning had developed the fact, which he already knew, that opium was plentiful all along the coast, and that, presumably, it was supplied from a point in the south of the state. but all his efforts to locate the source of the drug brought him up against a blank wall. in order to conduct his investigations with a minimum of suspicion, marks had elected to enter san diego in the guise of a derelict--a character which he had played to such perfection that two weeks after he arrived he found himself in court on the charge of vagrancy. only the fact that the presiding magistrate did not believe in sentencing first offenders saved him from ten days in the workhouse, an opportunity which he was rather sorry to miss because he figured that he might pick up some valuable leads from the opium addicts among his fellow prisoners. the only new point which he had developed during his stay in the underworld was that some one named sprague, presumably an american, was the brains of the opium ring and had perfected the entire plan. but who sprague was or where he might be found were matters which were kept in very watchful secrecy. "i give it up," muttered the operative, shrugging his arms into a threadbare coat and shambling out of the disreputable rooming house which passed for home. "work doesn't seem to get me anywhere. guess i'll have to trust to luck," and he wandered out for his nightly stroll through the chinese quarter, hoping against hope that something would happen. it did--in bunches! possibly it was luck, possibly it was fate--which, after all, is only another name for luck--that brought him into an especially unsavory portion of the city shortly after midnight. he had wandered along for three hours or more, with no objective in view save occasional visits to dives where he was known, when he heard something which caused him to whirl and automatically reach for his hip pocket. it was the cry of a woman, shrill and clear--the cry of a woman in mortal danger! it had only sounded once, but there was a peculiar muffled quality at the end of the note, suggestive of a hand or a gag having been placed over the woman's mouth. then--silence, so still as to be almost oppressive. puzzled, marks stood stock still and waited. so far as he could remember that was the first time that he had heard anything of the kind in chinatown. he knew that there were women there, but they were kept well in the background and, apparently, were content with their lot. the woman who had screamed, however, was in danger of her life. behind one of those flimsy walls some drama was being enacted in defiance of the law--something was being done which meant danger of the most deadly kind to him who dared to interfere. for a full minute marks weighed the importance of his official mission against his sense of humanity. should he take a chance on losing his prey merely to try to save a woman's life? should he attempt to find the house from which the scream had come and force the door? should he.... but the question was solved for him in a manner even more startling than the cry in the night. while he was still debating the door of a house directly in front of him opened wide and a blinding glare of light spread fanwise into the street. across this there shot the figure of what marks at first took to be a man--a figure attired in a long, heavily embroidered jacket and silken trousers. as it neared him, however, the operative sensed that it was a woman, and an instant later he knew that it was the woman whose stifled scream had halted him only a moment before. straight toward marks she came and, close behind her--their faces set in a look of deadly implacable rage--raced two large chinamen. probably realizing that she stood no chance of escape in the open street, the woman darted behind marks and prepared to dodge her pursuers. as she did so the operative caught her panting appeal: "save me! for the sake of the god, save me!" that was all that was necessary. ezra sensed in an instant the fact that he had become embroiled in what bade fair to be a tragedy and braced himself for action. he knew that he had no chance for holding off both men, particularly as he did not care to precipitate gun play, but there was the hope that he might divert them until the girl escaped. as the first of the two men leaped toward him, marks swung straight for his jaw, but his assailant ducked with what was almost professional rapidity and the blow was only a glancing one. before the operative had time to get set the other man was upon him and, in utter silence save for their labored breathing and dull thuds as blows went home, they fought their way back to the far side of the street. as he retreated, marks became conscious that instead of making her escape, the girl was still behind him. the reason for this became apparent when the larger of the chinamen suddenly raised his arm and the light from the open doorway glinted on the blade of a murderous short-handled axe--the favorite weapon of tong warfare. straight for his head the blade descended, but the girl's arm, thrust out of the darkness behind him, diverted the blow and the hatchet fairly whistled as it passed within an inch of his body. realizing that his only hope of safety lay in reaching the opposite side of the sidewalk, where he would be able to fight with his back against the wall, marks resumed his retreat, his arms moving like flails, his fists crashing home blows that lost much of their power by reason of the heavily padded jackets of his opponents. finally, after seconds that seemed like hours, one of his blows found the jaw of the man nearest him, and marks wheeled to set himself for the onrush of the other--the man with the hatchet. but just at that moment his foot struck the uneven curbing and threw him off his balance. he was conscious of an arc of light as the blade sang through the air; he heard a high, half-muffled cry from the girl beside him; and he remembered trying to throw himself out of the way of the hatchet. then there was a stinging, smarting pain in the side of his head and in his left shoulder--followed by the blackness of oblivion. from somewhere, apparently a long distance off, there came a voice which brought back at least a part of the operative's fast failing consciousness, a voice which called a name vaguely familiar to him: "sprague! sprague!" "sprague?" muttered marks, trying to collect himself. "who--is--sprague?" then, as he put it later, he "went off." how much time elapsed before he came to he was unable to say, but subsequent developments indicated that it was at least a day and a night. he hadn't the slightest idea what had occurred meanwhile--he only knew that he seemed to drift back to consciousness and a realization that his head was splitting as if it would burst. mechanically he stretched his legs and tried to rise, only to find that what appeared to be a wooden wall closed him in on all sides, leaving an opening only directly above him. for an appreciable time he lay still, trying to collect his thoughts. he recalled the fight in the open street, the intervention of the girl, the fall over the curb and then--there was something that he couldn't remember, something vital that had occurred just after he had tried to dodge the hatchet blade. "yes," he murmured, as memory returned, "it was some one calling for 'sprague--sprague!'" "hush!" came a whispered command out of the darkness which surrounded him, and a hand, soft and very evidently feminine, covered his mouth. "you must not mention that name here. it means the death, instant and terrible! they are discussing your fate in there now, but if they had thought that you knew wah lee your life would not be worth a yen." "wah lee? who is he?" marks replied, his voice pitched in an undertone. "i don't remember any wah lee. and who are you?" "who i am does not matter," came out of the darkness, "but wah lee--he is the master of life and death--the high priest of the flower of heaven. had it not been for him you would have been dead before this." "but i thought--" "that he desired your life? so he did--and does. but they have to plan the way in which it is to be taken and the disposition which is to be made of your body. that was what gave me my opportunity for binding up your wound and watching for you to wake." in spite of himself marks could not repress a slight shudder. so they were saving him for the sacrifice, eh? they were going to keep him here until their arrangements were complete and then make away with him, were they? moving cautiously, so as to avoid attracting attention, the operative slipped his right hand toward his hip pocket, only to find that his automatic was missing. as he settled back with a half moan, he felt something cold slipped into the box beside him, and the girl's voice whispered: "your revolver. i secured it when they brought you in here. i thought you might need it later. but be very careful. they must not suspect that you have wakened." "i will," promised marks, "but who are you? why should you take such an interest in me?" "you tried to save me from something that is worse than death," replied the girl. "you failed, but it was not your fault. could i do less than to help you?" "but what was it you feared?" "marriage! marriage to the man i loathe above all others--the man who is responsible for the opium that is drugging my people--the man who is known as wah lee, but who is really an american." here she hesitated for a moment and then hissed: "sprague!" "sprague?" marks echoed, sitting bolt upright. but the girl had gone, swallowed up somewhere in the impenetrable darkness which filled the room. his brain cleared by the realization that he had blundered into the heart of the opium-runners' den, it took ezra only a few seconds to formulate a plan of action. the first thing, of course, was to get away. but how could that be accomplished when he did not even know where he was or anything about the house? the girl had said something about the fact that "they were considering his fate." who were "they" and where were they? obviously, the only way to find this out was to do a little scouting on his own account, so, slowly and carefully, he raised himself clear of the boxlike arrangement in which he had been placed and tried to figure out his surroundings. his hand, groping over the side, came into almost instant contact with the floor and he found it a simple matter to step out into what appeared to be a cleared space in the center of a comparatively large room. then, curious as to the place where he had been concealed, he felt the box from one end to the other. the sides were about two feet high and slightly sloping, with an angle near the head. in fact, both ends of the affair were narrower than the portion which had been occupied by his shoulders. piled up at either end of this box were others, of the same shape and size. what could their purpose be? why the odd shape? suddenly the solution of the mystery flashed across the operative's mind--coffins! coffins which appeared to be piled up on all sides of the storeroom. was this the warehouse for a chinese undertaker or was it-- one coffin over which he nearly tripped gave him the answer. it was partly filled with cans, unlabeled and quite heavy--containers which marks felt certain were packed full of opium and smuggled in some manner inside the coffins. just as he arrived at this conclusion marks' eye was caught by a tiny streak of light filtering through the wall on the opposite side of the room. making his way carefully toward this, he found that the crack presented a fairly complete view of an adjoining apartment in which three chinese, evidently of high degree, were sorting money and entering accounts in large books. as he looked, a fourth figure entered the room--a man who caused him to catch his breath and flatten himself against the wall, for he recognized the larger of the two chinamen who had attacked him the night before--or whenever it was. this was the man to whom the girl had alluded as "wah lee, high priest of the flower of heaven"--which was merely another way of saying that he had charge of the opium shipments. as he entered the others rose and remained standing until he had seated himself. then one of them commenced to speak in rapid, undistinguishable chinese. before he had had time to pronounce more than a few words, however, wah lee interrupted him with a command couched in english to: "cut that out! you know i don't understand that gibberish well enough to follow you." "beg pardon," replied the other. "i always forget. you are so like one of us that, even in private, i find it hard to remember." wah lee said nothing, but, slipping off his silken jacket, settled back at his ease. a moment later marks was amazed to see him remove his mandarin's cap, and with it came a wig of coal-black hair! for the first time the government agent realized what the girl had meant when she intimated that wah lee and sprague were one and the same--an american who was masquerading as chinese in order to further his smuggling plans! "word has just arrived," continued the man who had first spoken, "that the boat will be off point banda to-night. that will allow us to pick up the coffins before daybreak and bury them until such time as the american hounds are off their guard." "yes," grunted sprague, "and let's hope that that's soon. we must have fifty thousand dollars' worth of the stuff cached on the other side of the border and orders are coming in faster than we can fill them. i think it would be best to run this cargo right in. we can stage a funeral, if necessary, and avoid suspicion in that way. wait a minute! i've got a hunch! what about the bum we carried in here last night--the one that tried to help anita in her getaway?" "anita?" "yes, my girl. i can't remember that rigmarole you people call her. anita's her name from now on." "he is in the next room, unconscious. two of the men dumped him in one of the empty coffins and let him stay there." "good," chuckled sprague. "we'll just let him remain--run him across the border, and bring his body back in a big hearse. the coffin and the body will be real, but there'll be enough cans of dope packed in and around him and in the carriages of the 'mourners' to make us all rich. it's the chance of a lifetime for a big play, because no one will ever suspect us or even inquire into his identity." behind the thin wall which separated him from the next room marks stiffened and his fingers wound themselves even more tightly around the butt of his automatic. it is not given to many men to hear their death sentence pronounced in a manner as dramatic and cold-blooded as were the words which came from the outer apartment. by listening intently, ezra learned that the coup would be sprung sometime within the next few hours, the conspirators feeling that it would not be safe to delay, as the opium shipment was due before dawn. moving silently and aided somewhat by the fact that his eyes had become a little accustomed to the inky blackness, marks made his way back to the place where he had awakened. he knew that that was where they would expect to find him and he also knew that this was the one place to avoid. so he located the door and, finding it bolted from the outside, placed himself where he would be at least partly sheltered when the party entered. after what seemed to be an interminable time he finally heard a sound from the hallway--the soft slip-slip of felt shoes approaching. then the bolt was withdrawn and the door opened, admitting the four men whom he had seen in the other room, and behind them, carrying a lantern, came the girl. nerving himself for a supreme leap, marks waited until all five visitors were inside the room, and then started to slip through the open doorway. but his movement attracted the attention of the man called sprague and, with a cry of warning, he wheeled and fired before the operative could gain the safety of the hall. knowing that his body, outlined against the light from outside, would make an ideal target, ezra dropped to the floor and swung his automatic into action. as he did so the girl extinguished the lantern with a single swift blow, leaving the room in total blackness, save for the path made by the light in the hallway. for probably twenty seconds there wasn't a sound. then marks caught a glimpse of a moving figure and fired, leaping to one side as he did so in order to avoid the fusillade directed at the flash of his revolver. by a cry from the other side of the room he knew that his shot had gone home, and a moment later he had an opportunity to wing another of his assailants, again drawing a volley of shots. the last shot in his clip was fired with a prayer--but it evidently went home, for only silence, punctuated by moans from the opposite side of the room, ensued. * * * * * "that night," concluded quinn, "a big sailing vessel was met off point banda and they found a full month's supply of opium aboard of her. a search of lower california, near the border, also disclosed a burying ground with many of the graves packed with cans of the drug. the raid, of course, was a violation of mexican neutrality--but they got away with it." "the girl?" i cut in. "what became of her?" "when the police reached the house a few moments after marks had fired the last shot, they found that sprague was dead with one of ezra's bullets through his brain. the three chinamen were wounded, but not fatally. the girl, however, was huddled in a corner, dead. no one ever discovered whether she stopped one of the bullets from marks's revolver or whether she was killed by sprague's men as a penalty for putting out the lantern. undoubtedly, that saved ezra's life--which was the reason that he saw that she was given a decent funeral and an adequate memorial erected over her grave. "he also kept her jacket as a memento of the affair, turning the hatchet over to me for my collection. under it you will find a copy of the wire he sent the chief." curious, i went over and read the yellow slip framed beneath the weapon: opium smuggled in coffins. american, at head of ring, dead. gang broken up. opium seized. what next? marks. "didn't wait long for another assignment, did he?" i inquired. "no," was the response. "when you're working for uncle sam you come to find that excitement is about the only thing that keeps your nerves quiet. sometimes, as in marks's case, it's the thrill of the actual combat. but more often it's the search for a tangible clue--the groping in the dark for something you know exists but which you can't lay your hands on. that was the trouble with the cheney case...." xv the man with three wives one of the first things to strike the eye of the visitor who enters the library-den of william j. quinn--known to his friends and former associates in the united states secret service as "bill"--is a frame which stands upon the mantel and contains the photographs of three exceptionally pretty women. anyone who doesn't know that this room is consecrated to relics of the exploits of the various governmental detective services might be pardoned for supposing that the three pictures in the single frame are photographs of relatives. only closer inspection will reveal the fact that beneath them appears a transcript from several pages of a certain book of records--the original of which is kept at the new york city hall. these pages state that.... but suppose we let quinn tell the story, just as he told it one cold november night while the wind was whistling outside and the cheery warmth of the fire made things extremely snug within. * * * * * secret service men [said quinn] divide all of their cases into two classes--those which call for quick action and plenty of it and those which demand a great deal of thought and only an hour or so of actual physical work. your typical operative--allison, who was responsible for solving the poison-pen puzzle, for example, or hal preston, who penetrated the mystery surrounding the murder of montgomery marshall--is essentially a man of action. he likes to tackle a job and get it over with. it doesn't make any difference if he has to round up a half dozen counterfeiters at the point of a single revolver--as tommy callahan once did--or break up a gang of train robbers who have sworn never to be taken alive. as long as he has plenty of thrills and excitement, as long as he is able to get some joy out of life, he doesn't give a hang for the risk. that's his business and he loves it. but it's the long-drawn-out cases which he has to ponder over and consider from a score of angles that, in the vernacular of vaudeville, capture his angora. give him an assignment where he can trail his man for a day or two, get the lay of the land, and then drop on the bunch like a ton o' brick and everything's fine. give him one of the other kind and--well, he's just about as happy as guy randall was when they turned him loose with instructions to get something on carl cheney. remember during the early days of the war when the papers were full of stories from new york, philadelphia, boston, milwaukee and points west about gatherings of pro-german sympathizers who were determined to aid the fatherland? theoretically, we were neutral at that time and these people had all the scope they wanted. they did not confine themselves to talk, however, but laid several plans which were destined to annoy the government and to keep several hundred operatives busy defeating them--for they were aimed directly at our policy of neutrality. as a campaign fund to assure the success of these operations, the german sympathizers raised not less than sixteen million dollars--a sum which naturally excited the cupidity not only of certain individuals within their own ranks, but also of persons on the outside--men who were accustomed to live by their wits and who saw in this gigantic collection the opportunity of a lifetime. when you consider that you can hire a new york gangster to commit murder for a couple of hundred dollars--and the "union scale" has been known to be even lower--it's no wonder that the mere mention of sixteen million dollars caused many a crook of international reputation to figure how he could divert at least a part of this to his own bank account. that's the way, as it afterward turned out, that carl cheney looked at it. cheney had rubbed elbows with the police on several occasions prior to nineteen fourteen. it was suspected that he had been mixed up in a number of exceptionally clever smuggling schemes and that he had had a finger in one or two operations which came perilously close to blackmail. but no one had ever been able to get anything on him. he was the original finnigin--"in agin, gone agin." by the time the plan came to a successful conclusion all that remained of "count carl's" connection with it was a vague and distinctly nebulous shadow--and you simply can't arrest shadows, no matter how hard you try. the new york police were the first to tip washington off to the fact that cheney, who had dropped his aristocratic alias for the time being, was back in this country and had been seen in the company of a number of prominent members of a certain german-american club which wasn't in any too good repute with the department of justice by reason of the efforts of some of its members to destroy the neutral stand of the nation. have no indications of what cheney is doing [the report admitted], but it will be well to trail him. apparently he has some connection, officially or unofficially, with berlin. advise what action you wish us to take. whereupon the chief wired back: operative assigned to cheney case leaves to-night. meanwhile please watch. it wasn't until after the wire had been sent that guy randall was summoned to the inner sanctum of the secret service and informed that he had been elected to trail the elusive suspect and find out what he was up to. "so far as our records show," stated the chief, "no one has ever been able to catch this cheney person in the act of departing from the straight and narrow path. however, that's a matter of the past. what we've got to find out is what he is planning now--why he is in new york and why he has attached himself to the pro-german element which has all kinds of wild schemes up its sleeve." "and i'm the one who's got to handle it?" inquired guy, with a grimace. "precisely," grinned the chief. "oh, i know it doesn't look like much of a job and i grant you that the thrill element will probably be lacking. but you can't draw a snap every time. all that's asked is that you get something on cheney--something which will withstand the assaults of the lawyers he will undoubtedly hire the minute we lay hands on him. therefore you've got to be mighty careful to have the right dope. if you're satisfied that he's doing nothing out of the way, don't hesitate to say so. but i don't expect that your report will clear him, for, from what we already know of the gentleman, he's more likely to be implicated in some plan aimed directly at a violation of neutrality, and it's essential that we find out what that is before we take any radical step." "what do you know about cheney?" was randall's next question, followed by an explanation from the chief that the "count" had been suspected in a number of cases and had barely been able to escape in time. "but," added the head of the secret service, "he did escape. and that's what we have to prevent this time. he's a fast worker and a clever one--which means that you've got to keep continually after him. call in all the help you need, but if you take my advice you'll handle the case alone. you're apt to get a lot further that way." agreeing that this was the best method to pursue, randall caught the midnight train for new york and went at once to police headquarters, where he requested a full description of cheney's previous activities. "you're asking for something what ain't," he was informed, ungrammatically, but truthfully. "we've never been able to get a thing on the count, though we're dead certain that he had a finger in several crooked plays. the latimer letters were never directly traced to him, but it's a cinch that he had something to do with their preparation, just as he had with the blackmailing of old man branchfield and the smuggling of the van husen emeralds. you remember that case, don't you? the one where the stones were concealed in a life preserver and they staged a 'man overboard' stunt just as the ship came into the harbor. nobody ever got the stones or proved that they were actually smuggled--but the count happened to be on the ship at the time, just as he 'happened' to be in paris when they were sold. we didn't even dare arrest him, which accounts for the fact that his photograph doesn't ornament the rogues' gallery." "well, what's the idea of trailing him, then?" "just to find out what he is doing. what d'ye call those birds that fly around at sea just before a gale breaks--stormy petrels? that's the count! he's a stormy petrel of crookedness. something goes wrong every time he hits a town--or, rather, just after he leaves, for he's too clever to stick around too long. the question now is, what's this particular storm and when is it goin' to break?" "fine job to turn me loose on," grumbled randall. "it is that," laughed the captain who was dispensing information. "but you can never tell what you'll run into, me boy. why i remember once--" randall, however, was out of the office before the official had gotten well started on his reminiscences. he figured that he had already had too much of a grouch to listen patiently to some long-winded story dug out of the musty archives of police history and he made his way at once to the hotel where carl cheney was registered, flaunting his own name in front of the police whom he must have known were watching him. neither the house detective nor the plain-clothes man who had been delegated to trail cheney could add anything of interest to the little that randall already knew. the "count," they said, had conducted himself in a most circumspect manner and had not been actually seen in conference with any of the germans with whom he was supposed to be in league. "he's too slick for that," added the man from the central office. "whenever he's got a conference on he goes up to the club and you can't get in there with anything less than a battering ram and raiding squad. there's no chance to plant a dictaphone, and how else are you going to get the information?" "what does he do at other times?" countered guy, preferring not to reply to the former question until he had gotten a better line on the case. "behaves himself," was the laconic answer. "takes a drive in the park in the afternoon, dines here or at one of the other hotels, goes to the theater and usually finishes up with a little supper somewhere among the white lights." "any women in sight?" "yes--two. a blond from the girl-show that's playin' at the knickerbocker and a red-head. don't know who she is--but they're both good lookers. no scandal, though. everything appears to be on the level--even the women." "well," mused the government operative after a moment's silence, "i guess i better get on the job. probably means a long stretch of dull work, but the sooner i get at it the sooner i'll get over it. where is cheney now?" "up in his room. hasn't come down to breakfast yet. yes. there he is now. just getting out of the elevator--headed toward the dinin' room," and the plain-clothes man indicated the tall figure of a man about forty, a man dressed in the height of fashion, with spats, a cane, and a morning coat of the most correct cut. "want me for anything?" "not a thing," said randall, absently. "i'll pick him up now. you might tell the chief to watch out for a hurry call from me--though i'm afraid he won't get it." as events proved, randall was dead right. the central office heard nothing from him for several months, and even washington received only stereotyped reports indicative of what cheney was doing--which wasn't much. shortly after the first of the year, guy sent a wire to the chief, asking to be relieved for a day or two in order that he might be free to come to washington. sensing the fact that the operative had some plan which he wished to discuss personally, the chief put another man on cheney's trail and instructed randall to report at the treasury department on the following morning. "what's the matter?" inquired the man at the head of the service as guy, a little thinner than formerly and showing by the wrinkles about his eyes the strain under which he was working, strolled into the office. "nothing's the matter, chief--and that's where the trouble lies. you know i've never kicked about work, no matter how much of it i've had. but this thing's beginning to get on my nerves. cheney is planning some coup. i'm dead certain of that. what it's all about, though, i haven't the least idea. the plans are being laid in the german-american club and there's no chance of getting in there." "how about bribing one of the employees to leave?" "can't be done. i've tried it--half a dozen times. they're all germans and, as such, in the organization. however, i have a plan. strictly speaking, it's outside the law, but that's why i wanted to talk things over with you...." when randall had finished outlining his plan the chief sat for a moment in thought. then, "are you sure you can put it over?" he inquired. "of course i can. it's done every other day, anyhow, by the cops themselves. why shouldn't we take a leaf out of their book?" "i know. but there's always the possibility of a diplomatic protest." "not in this case, chief. the man's only a waiter and, besides, before the embassy has a chance to hear about it i'll have found out what i want to know. then, if they want to raise a row, let 'em." the upshot of the matter was that, about a week later, franz heilman, a waiter employed at the german-american club in new york, was arrested one night and haled into night court on a charge of carrying concealed weapons--a serious offense under the sullivan act. in vain he protested that he had never carried a pistol in his life. patrolman flaherty, who had made the arrest, produced the weapon which he claimed to have found in heilman's possession and the prisoner was held for trial. bright and early the next morning randall, disguised by a mustache which he had trained for just such an occasion and bearing a carefully falsified letter from a german brewer in milwaukee, presented himself at the employee's entrance of the german-american club and asked for the steward. to that individual he told his story--how he had tried to get back to the fatherland and had failed, how he had been out of work for nearly a month, and how he would like to secure employment of some kind at the club where he would at least be among friends. after a thorough examination of the credentials of the supposed german--who had explained his accent by the statement that he had been brought to the united states when very young and had been raised in wisconsin--the steward informed him that there was a temporary vacancy in the club staff which he could fill until heilman returned. "the duties," the steward added, "are very light and the pay, while not large, will enable you to lay by a little something toward your return trip to germany." knowing that his time was limited, randall determined to let nothing stand in the way of his hearing all that went on in the room where cheney and his associates held their conferences. it was the work of only a few moments to bore holes in the door which connected this room with an unused coat closet--plugging up the holes with corks stained to simulate the wood itself--and the instant the conference was on the new waiter disappeared. an hour later he slipped out of the side entrance to the club and the steward is probably wondering to this day what became of him. had he been able to listen in on the private wire which connected the new york office of the secret service with headquarters at washington, he would have had the key to the mystery. "chief," reported randall, "i've got the whole thing. there's a plot on foot to raise one hundred and fifty thousand german reservists--men already in this country--mobilizing them in four divisions, with six sections. the first two divisions are to assemble at silvercreek, michigan--the first one seizing the welland canal and the second capturing wind mill point, ontario. the third is to meet at wilson, n. y., and will march on port hope. the fourth will go from watertown, n. y., to kingston, ontario, while the fifth will assemble somewhere near detroit and proceed toward windsor. the sixth will stage an attack on ottawa, operating from cornwall. "they've got their plans all laid for the coup, and cheney reported to-day that he intends to purchase some eighty-five boats to carry the invading force into the dominion. the only thing that's delaying the game is the question of provisions for the army. cheney's holding out for another advance--from what i gathered he's already received a lot--and claims that he will be powerless unless he gets it. i didn't stay to listen to the argument, for i figured that i'd better leave while the leaving was good." the reply that came back from washington was rather startling to the operative, who expected only commendation and the statement that his task was completed. "what evidence have you that this invasion is planned?" "none besides what i heard through holes which i bored in one of the doors of the german-american club this morning." "that won't stand in court! we don't dare to arrest this man cheney on that. you've got to get something on him." "plant it?" "no! get it straight. and we can't wait for this expedition to start, either. that would be taking too much of a chance. it's up to you to do a little speedy work in the research line. dig back into the count's past and find something on which we can hold him, for he's very evidently the brains of the organization, in spite of the fact that he probably is working only for what he can get of that fund that the germans have raised. i understand that it's sixteen million dollars and that's enough to tempt better men than cheney. now go to it, and remember--you've got to work fast!" disappointed, chagrined by the air of finality with which the receiver at the washington end of the line was hung up, randall wandered out of the new york office with a scowl on his face and deep lines of thought between his eyes. if he hadn't been raised in the school which holds that a man's only irretrievable mistake is to quit under fire, he'd have thrown up his job right there and let some one else tackle the work of landing the count. but he had to admit that the chief was right and, besides, there was every reason to suppose that grave issues hung in the balance. the invasion of canada meant the overthrow of american neutrality, the failure of the plans which the president and the state department had so carefully laid. cheney was the crux of the whole situation. once held on a charge that could be proved in court, the plot would fall through for want of a capable leader--for the operative had learned enough during his hour in the cloak-room to know that "the count" was the mainspring of the whole movement, despite the fact that he undoubtedly expected to reap a rich financial harvest for himself. selecting a seat on the top of a fifth avenue bus, randall resigned himself to a consideration of the problem. "the whole thing," he figured, "simmers down to cheney himself. in its ramifications, of course, it's a question of peace or war--but in reality it's a matter of landing a crook by legitimate means. i can't plant a gun on him, like they did on heilman, and there's mighty little chance of connecting him with the branchfield case or the van husen emeralds at this late date. his conduct around town has certainly been blameless enough. not even any women to speak of. wait a minute, though! there were two. the blond from the knickerbocker and that red-haired dame. he's still chasing around with the blond--but what's become of miss red-head?" this train of thought had possibilities. if the girl had been cast aside, it was probable that she would have no objection to telling what she knew--particularly as the color of her hair hinted at the possession of what the owner would call "temperament," while the rest of the world forgets to add the last syllable. it didn't take long to locate the owner of the fiery tresses. a quick round-up of the head waiters at the cafés which cheney frequented, a taxi trip to washington square and another to the section above columbus circle, and randall found that the red-haired beauty was known as olga brainerd, an artist's model, whose face had appeared upon the cover of practically every popular publication in the country. she had been out of town for the past two months, he learned, but had just returned and had taken an apartment in a section of the city which indicated the possession of considerable capital. "miss brainerd," said randall, when he was face to face with the titian beauty in the drawing-room of her suite, "i came with a message from your friend, carl cheney." here he paused and watched her expression very closely. as he had hoped, the girl was unable to master her feelings. rage and hate wrote themselves large across her face and her voice fairly snapped as she started to reply. randall, however, interrupted her with a smile and the statement: "that's enough! i'm going to lay my cards face up on the table. i am a secret service operative seeking information about cheney. here is my badge, merely to prove that i'm telling the truth. we have reason to believe that 'the count,' as he is called, is mixed up with a pro-german plot which, if successful, would imperil the peace of the country. can you tell us anything about him?" "can i?" echoed the girl. "the beast! he promised to marry me, more than two months ago, and then got infatuated with some blond chit of a chorus girl. just because i lost my head and showed him a letter i had received--a letter warning me against him--he flew into a rage and threatened.... well, never mind what he did say. the upshot of the affair was that he sent me out of town and gave me enough money to last me some time. but he'll pay for his insults!" "have you the letter you received?" asked randall, casually--as if it meant little to him whether the girl produced it or not. "yes. i kept it. wait a moment and i'll get it for you." a few seconds later she was back with a note, written in a feminine hand--a note which read: if you are wise you will ask the man who calls himself carl cheney what he knows of paul weiss, of george winters, and oscar stanley. you might also inquire what has become of florence and rose. (signed) amelia. randall looked up with a puzzled expression. "what's all this about?" he inquired. "sounds like greek to me." "to me, too," agreed the girl. "but it was enough to make carl purple with rage and, what's more, to separate him from several thousand dollars." "weiss, winters, and stanley," mused guy. "those might easily be cheney's former aliases. florence, rose, and amelia? i wonder.... come on, girl, we're going to take a ride down to city hall! i've got a hunch!" late that afternoon when carl cheney arrived at his hotel he was surprised to find a young man awaiting him in his apartment--a man who appeared to be perfectly at ease and who slipped over and locked the door once the count was safely within the room. "what does this mean?" demanded cheney. "by what right--" "it means," snapped randall, "that the game's up!" then, raising his voice, he called, "mrs. weiss!" and a tall woman parted the curtains at the other end of the room; "mrs. winters!" and another woman entered; "mrs. stanley!" and a third came in. with his fingers still caressing the butt of the automatic which nestled in his coat pocket, randall continued: "cheney--or whatever your real name is--there won't be any invasion of canada. we know all about your plans--in fact, the arsenal on west houston street is in possession of the police at this moment. it was a good idea and undoubtedly you would have cleaned up on it--were it not for the fact that i am under the far from painful necessity of arresting you on a charge of bigamy--or would you call it 'trigamy'? the records at city hall gave you away, after one of these ladies had been kind enough to provide us with a clue to the three aliases under which you conducted your matrimonial operations. "come on, count. the germans may need you worse than we do--but we happen to have you!" xvi after seven years bill quinn was disgusted. some one, evidently afflicted with an ingrowing sense of humor, had sent him the prospectus of a "school" which professed to be able to teach budding aspirants the art of becoming a successful detective for the sum of twenty-five dollars, and quinn couldn't appreciate the humor. "_how to become a detective--in ten lessons_," he snorted. "it only takes one for the man who's got the right stuff in him, and the man that hasn't better stay out of the game altogether." "well," i retorted, anxious to stir up any kind of an argument that might lead to one of quinn's tales about the exploits of uncle sam's sleuths, "just what does it take to make a detective?" it was a moment or two before quinn replied. then: "there are only three qualities necessary," he replied. "common sense, the power of observation, and perseverance. given these three, with possibly a dash of luck thrown in for good measure, and you'll have a crime expert who could stand the heroes of fiction on their heads. "take larry simmons, for example. no one would ever have accused him of having the qualifications of a detective--any more than they would have suspected him of being one. but larry drew a good-sized salary from the bureau of pensions because he possessed the three qualities i mentioned. he had the common sense of a physician, the observation of a trained newspaper reporter, and the perseverance of a bulldog. once he sunk his teeth in a problem he never let loose--which was the reason that very few people ever put anything over on the pension bureau as long as larry was on the job. "that cap up there," and quinn pointed to a stained and dilapidated bit of headgear which hung upon the wall of his den, "is a memento of one of simmons's cases. the man who bought it would tell you that i'm dead right when i say that larry was persevering. that's putting it mildly." * * * * * quite a while back [continued quinn, picking up the thread of his story] there was a man out in saint joseph, missouri, named dave holden. no one appeared to know where he came from and, as he conducted himself quietly and didn't mix in with his neighbors' affairs, no one cared very much. holden hadn't been in town more than a couple of weeks when one of the older inhabitants happened to inquire if he were any kin to "old dave holden," who had died only a year or two before. "no," said holden, "i don't believe i am. my folks all came from ohio and i understand that this holden was a missourian." "that's right," agreed the other, "and a queer character, too. guess he was pretty nigh the only man that fought on the union side in the civil war that didn't stick th' government for a pension. had it comin' to him, too, 'cause he was a captain when th' war ended. but he always said he didn't consider that uncle sam owed him anything for doin' his duty. spite of th' protests of his friends, dave wouldn't ever sign a pension blank, either." a few more questions, carefully directed, gave holden the history of his namesake, and that night he lay awake trying to figure out whether the plan which had popped into his head was safe. it promised some easy money, but there was the element of risk to be considered. "after all," he concluded, "i won't be doing anything that isn't strictly within the law. my name is david holden--just as the old man's was. the worst that they can do is to turn down the application. i won't be committing forgery or anything of the kind. and maybe it'll slip through--which would mean a pile of money, because they'll kick in with all that accumulated during the past fifty years." so it was that, in the course of time, an application was filed at the bureau of pensions in washington for a pension due "david holden" of saint joseph, missouri, who had fought in the civil war with the rank of captain. but, when the application had been sent over to the war department so that it might be compared with the records on file there, it came back with the red-inked notation that "capt. david holden had died two years before"--giving the precise date of his demise as evidence. the moment that the document reached the desk of the supervisor of pensions he pressed one of the little pearl buttons in front of him and asked that larry simmons be sent in. when larry arrived the chief handed him the application without a word. "right! i'll look into this," said larry, folding the paper and slipping it into the pocket of his coat. "look into it?" echoed the supervisor. "you'll do more than that! you'll locate this man holden--or whatever his right name is--and see that he gets all that's coming to him. there've been too many of these cases lately. apparently people think that all they have to do is to file an application for a pension and then go off and spend the money. catch the first train for saint joe and wire me when you've landed your man. the district attorney will attend to the rest of the matter." the location of david holden, as simmons found, was not the simplest of jobs. the pension applicant, being comparatively a newcomer, was not well known in town, and simmons finally had to fall back upon the expedient of watching the post-office box which holden had given as his address, framing a dummy letter so that the suspect might not think that he was being watched. holden, however, had rented the box for the sole purpose of receiving mail from the pension bureau. he had given the number to no one else and the fact that the box contained what appeared to be an advertisement from a clothing store made him stop and wonder. by that time, however, simmons had him well in sight and followed him to the boarding-house on the outskirts of the town where he was staying. that evening, while he was still wondering at the enterprise of a store that could obtain a post-office box number from a government bureau at washington, the solution of the mystery came to him in a decidedly unexpected manner. the house in which holden was staying was old-fashioned, one of the kind that are heated, theoretically at least, by "registers," open gratings in the wall. holden's room was directly over the parlor on the first floor and the shaft which carried the hot air made an excellent sound-transmitter. it so happened that simmons, after having made a number of inquiries around town about the original dave holden, called at the boarding house that night to discover what the landlady knew about the other man of the same name, who was seated in the room above. suddenly, like a voice from nowhere, came the statement in a high-pitched feminine voice: "i really don't know anything about him at all. mr. holden came here about six weeks ago and asked me to take him in to board. he seemed to be a very nice, quiet gentleman, who was willing to pay his rent in advance. so i let him have one of the best rooms in the house." at the mention of his name holden listened intently. who was inquiring about him, and why? there was only a confused mumble--apparently a man's reply, pitched in a low tone--and then the voice of the landlady again came clearly through the register: "oh, i'm sure he wouldn't do anything like that. mr. holden is...." but that was all that the pension applicant waited for. moving with the rapidity of a frightened animal, he secured one or two articles of value from his dresser, crammed a hat into his pocket, slipped on a raincoat, and vaulted out of the window, alighting on the sloping roof of a shed just below. before he had quitted the room, however, he had caught the words "arrest on a charge of attempting to obtain money under false pretenses." some two minutes later there was a knock on his door and a voice demanded admittance. there was no reply. again the demand, followed by a rattling of the doorknob and a tentative shake of the door. in all, it was probably less than five minutes after larry simmons had entered the parlor before he had burst in the door of holden's room. but the bird had flown and the open window pointed to the direction of his flight. unfortunately for the operative the night was dark and the fugitive was decidedly more familiar with the surrounding country than larry was. by the time he had secured the assistance of the police half an hour had elapsed, and there weren't even any telltale footprints to show in which direction the missing man had gone. "see that men are placed so as to guard the railroad station," simmons directed, "and pass the word up and down the line that a medium-sized man, about thirty-five years of age, with black hair and a rather ruddy complexion--a man wanted by the government on a charge of false pretenses--is trying to make his escape. if anyone reports him, let me know at once." that, under the circumstances, was really all that larry could do. it ought to be an easy matter to locate the fugitive, he figured, and it would only be a question of a few days before he was safely in jail. bright and early the next morning the operative was awakened by a bell-boy who informed him that the chief of police would like to see him. "show him in," said larry, fully expecting to see the chief enter with a handcuffed prisoner. but the head of the police force came in alone, carrying a bundle, which he gravely presented to simmons. "what's this?" inquired the pension agent. "all that's left of your friend holden," was the reply. "one of my men reported late last night that he had heard a splash in the river as though some one had jumped off the wharf, but he couldn't find out anything more. to tell the truth, he didn't look very hard--because we had our hands full with a robbery of green's clothing store. some one broke in there and--" "yes--but what about holden?" simmons interrupted. "guess you'll have to drag the river for him," answered the chief. "we found his coat and vest and raincoat on the dock this mornin', and on top of them was this note, addressed to you." the note, as larry found an instant later, read: i'd rather die in the river than go to jail. tell your boss that he can pay two pensions now--one for each of the dave holdens. the signature, almost illegible, was that of "david holden (number two)." "no doubt that your man heard the splash when holden went overboard last night?" inquired the operative. "not the least in the world. he told me about it, but i didn't connect it with the man you were after, and, besides, i was too busy right then to give it much thought." "any chance of recovering the body?" "mighty little at this time of the year. the current's good and strong an' the chances are that he won't turn up this side of the mississippi, if then. it was only by accident that we found his cap. it had lodged under the dock and we fished it out less 'n half an hour ago--" and the chief pointed to a water-soaked piece of cloth which simmons recognized as the one which holden had been wearing the evening before. "well, i don't suppose there's anything more that we can do," admitted larry. "i'd like to have the river dragged as much as possible, though i agree with you that the chances for recovering the body are very slim. will you look after that?" "sure i will, and anything else you want done." the chief was nothing if not obliging--a fact which simmons incorporated in his official report, which he filed a few days later, a report which stated that "david holden, wanted on a charge of attempting to obtain money under false pretenses, had committed suicide by drowning rather than submit to arrest." the body has not been recovered [the report admitted], but this is not to be considered unusual at this time of the year when the current is very strong. the note left by the fugitive is attached. back from washington came the wire: better luck next time. anyhow, holden won't bother us again. if this were a moving picture [quinn continued, after a pause], there would be a subtitle here announcing the fact that seven years are supposed to elapse. there also probably would be a highly decorated explanatory title informing the audience that "uncle sam never forgets nor forgives"--a fact that is so perfectly true that it's a marvel that people persist in trying to beat the government. then the scene of the film would shift to seattle, washington. they would have to cut back a little to make it clear that larry simmons had, in the meantime, left the pension bureau and entered the employment of the post-office department, being desirous of a little more excitement and a few more thrills than his former job afforded. but he was still working for uncle sam, and his memory--like that of his employer--was long and tenacious. one of the minor cases which had been bothering the department for some time past was that of a ring of fortune-tellers who, securing information in devious ways, would pretend that it had come to them from the spirit world and use it for purposes which closely approximated blackmail. simmons, being in san francisco at the time, was ordered to proceed to seattle and look into the matter. posing as a gentleman of leisure with plenty of money and but little care as to the way in which he spent it, it wasn't long before he was steered into what appeared to be the very center of the ring--the residence of a madame ahara, who professed to be able to read the stars, commune with spirits, and otherwise obtain information of an occult type. there larry went through all the usual stages--palmistry, spiritualism, and clairvoyance--and chuckled when he found, after his third visit, that his pocket had been picked of a letter purporting to contain the facts about an escapade in which he had been mixed up a few years ago. the letter, of course, was a plant placed there for the sole purpose of providing a lead for madame and her associates to follow. and they weren't long in taking the tip. the very next afternoon the government agent received a telephone call notifying him that madame had some news of great importance which she desired to impart--information which had come to her from the other world and in which she felt certain he would be interested. larry asked if he might bring a friend with him, but the request--as he had expected--was promptly refused. the would-be blackmailers were too clever to allow first-hand evidence to be produced against them. they wished to deal only with principals or, as madame informed him over the phone, "the message was of such a nature that only he should hear it." "very well," replied simmons, "i'll be there at eleven this evening." it was not his purpose to force the issue at this time. in fact, he planned to submit to the first demand for money and trust to the confidence which this would inspire to render the blackmailers less cautious in the future. but something occurred which upset the entire scheme and, for a time at least, threatened disaster to the post-office schemes. thinking that it might be well to look the ground over before dark, larry strolled out to madame ahara's about five o'clock in the afternoon and took up his position on the opposite side of the street, studying the house from every angle. while he was standing there a man came out--a man who was dressed in the height of fashion, but whose face was somehow vaguely familiar. the tightly waxed mustache and the iron-gray goatee seemed out of place, for simmons felt that the last time he had seen the man he had been clean shaven. "where was it?" he thought, as he kept the man in sight, though on the opposite side of the street. "new york? no. washington? hardly. saint louis? no, it was somewhere where he was wearing a cap--a cap that was water-stained and ... i've got it! in saint joseph! the man who committed suicide the night i went to arrest him for attempting to defraud the pension bureau! it's he, sure as shooting!" but just as simmons started to cross the street the traffic cop raised his arm, and when the apparently interminable stream of machines had passed, the man with the mustache was nowhere to be seen. he had probably slipped into one of the near-by office buildings. but which? that was a question which worried larry for a moment or two. then he came to the conclusion that there was no sense in trying to find his man at this moment. the very fact that he was in seattle was enough. the police could find him with little difficulty. but what had holden been doing at the clairvoyant's? had he fallen into the power of the ring or was it possible that he was one of the blackmailers himself? the more larry thought about the matter, the more he came to the conclusion that here was an opportunity to kill two birds with a single stone--to drive home at least the entering wedge of the campaign against the clairvoyants and at the same time to land the man who had eluded him seven years before. the plan which he finally evolved was daring, but he realized that the element of time was essential. holden must not be given another opportunity to slip through the net. that night when larry kept his appointment at madame's he saw to it that a cordon of police was thrown around the entire block, with instructions to allow no one to leave until after a prearranged signal. "don't prevent anyone from coming into the house," simmons directed, "but see that not a soul gets away from it. also, you might be on the lookout for trouble. the crowd's apt to get nasty and we can't afford to take chances with them." a tall dark-skinned man, attired in an arabian burnoose and wearing a turban, answered the ring at the door, precisely as larry anticipated--for the stage was always well set to impress visitors. madame herself never appeared in the richly decorated room where the crystal-gazing séances were held, preferring to remain in the background and to allow a girl, who went by the name of yvette, to handle visitors, the explanation being that "madame receives the spirit messages and transmits them to yvette, her assistant." simmons therefore knew that, instead of dealing with an older and presumably more experienced woman, he would only have to handle a girl, and it was upon this that he placed his principal reliance. everything went along strictly according to schedule. yvette, seated on the opposite side of a large crystal ball in which she read strange messages from the other world--visions transmitted from the cellar by means of a cleverly constructed series of mirrors--told the operative everything that had been outlined in the letter taken from his pocket on the preceding night, adding additional touches founded on facts which larry had been "careless" enough to let slip during his previous visits. then she concluded with a very thinly veiled threat of blackmail if the visitor did not care to kick in with a certain sum of money. larry listened to the whole palaver in silence, but his eyes were busy trying to pierce the dim light in which the room was shrouded. so far as he could see, the door through which he had entered formed the only means of getting into the room--but there were a number of rugs and draperies upon the walls, any one of which might easily mask a doorway. when the girl had finished, the operative leaned forward and hitched his chair around so that he could speak in a whisper. "if you know what's good for you," he cautioned, "don't move! i've got you covered, in the first place, and, secondly, there's a solid cordon of police around this house! careful--not a sound! i'm not after you. i want the people who're behind you. madame and her associates. this blackmailing game has gone about far enough, but i'll see that you get off with a suspended sentence if you do as i tell you. if not--" and the very abruptness with which he stopped made the threat all the more convincing. "what--what do you want me to do?" stammered the girl, her voice barely audible. "turn state's evidence and tip me off to everyone who's in on this thing," was larry's reply, couched in the lowest of tones. "there's not a chance of escape for any of you, so you might as well do it and get it over with. besides that, i want to know where i can find a man with a waxed mustache and iron-gray goatee who left this house at ten minutes past five this afternoon." "madame!" exclaimed the girl. "davidson!" "yes--madame and davidson, if that's the name he goes by now. it was holden the last time i saw him." "he"--and the girl's voice was a mere breath--"he is madame!" "what?" "yes, there is no madame ahara. davidson runs the whole thing. he is--" but at that moment one of the rugs on the wall which larry was facing swung outward and a man sprang into the room, a man whose face was purple with rage and who leaped sidewise as he saw larry's hand snap an automatic into view above the pedestal on which the crystal ball reposed. in a flash simmons recognized two things--his danger and the fact that the man who had just entered was holden, alias davidson, blackmailer and potential thief. before the government agent had time to aim the head of the clairvoyant ring fired. but his bullet, instead of striking larry, shattered the crystal ball into fragments and the room was plunged into total darkness. in spite of the fact that he knew the shot would bring speedy relief from outside the house, simmons determined to capture his man single-handed and alive. half-leaping, half-falling from the chair in which he had been seated, the operative sprang forward in an attempt to nail his man while the latter was still dazed by the darkness. but his foot, catching in one of the thick rugs which carpeted the floor, tripped him and he fell--a bullet from the other's revolver plowing through the fleshy part of his arm. the flash, however, showed him the position of his adversary, and it was the work of only a moment to slip forward and seize the blackmailer around the waist, his right hand gripping the man's wrist and forcing it upward so that he was powerless to use his revolver. for a full minute they wrestled in the inky darkness, oblivious to the fact that the sound of blows on the outer door indicated the arrival of reinforcements. then suddenly larry let go of the blackmailer's arm and, whirling him rapidly around, secured a half nelson that threatened to dislocate his neck. "drop it!" he snarled. "drop that gun before i wring your head off!" and the muffled thud as the revolver struck the floor was the signal that holden had surrendered. a moment later the light in the center of the room was snapped on and the police sergeant inquired if larry needed any assistance. "no," replied simmons, grimly, "but you might lend me a pair of bracelets. this bird got away from me once, some seven years ago, and i'm not taking any more chances!" xvii the poison-pen puzzle beside the bookcase in the room which bill quinn likes to dignify by the name of "library"--though it's only a den, ornamented with relics of scores of cases in which members of the different government detective services have figured--hangs a frame containing four letters, each in a different handwriting. beyond the fact that these letters obviously refer to some secret in the lives of the persons to whom they are addressed, there is little about them that is out of the ordinary. a close observer, however, would note that in none of the four is the secret openly stated. it is only hinted at, suggested, but by that very fact it becomes more mysterious and alarming. it was upon this that i commented one evening as i sat, discussing things in general, with quinn. "yes," he agreed, "the writer of those letters was certainly a genius. as an author or as an advertising writer or in almost any other profession where a mastery of words and the ability to leave much to the imagination is a distinct asset, they would have made a big success." "they?" i inquired. "did more than one person write the letters?" "don't look like the writing of the same person, do they?" countered quinn. "besides, that was one of the many phases of the matter which puzzled elmer allison, and raised the case above the dead level of ordinary blackmailing schemes." * * * * * allison [quinn went on, settling comfortably back in his big armchair] was, as you probably remember, one of the star men of the postal inspection service, the chap who solved the mystery of the lost one hundred thousand dollars in columbus. in fact, he had barely cleared up the tangle connected with the letters when assigned to look into the affair of the missing money, with what results you already know. the poison-pen puzzle, as it came to be known in the department, first bobbed up some six months before allison tackled it. at least, that was when it came to the attention of the postal inspection service. it's more than likely that the letters had been arriving for some time previous to that, because one of the beauties of any blackmailing scheme--such as this one appeared to be--is that per cent of the victims fear to bring the matter to the attention of the law. they much prefer to suffer in silence, kicking in with the amounts demanded, than to risk the exposure of their family skeletons by appealing to the proper authorities. a man by the name of tyson, who lived in madison, wisconsin, was the first to complain. he informed the postmaster in his city that his wife had received two letters, apparently in a feminine handwriting, which he considered to be very thinly veiled attempts at blackmailing. neither of the letters was long. just a sentence or two. but their ingenuity lay in what they suggested rather than in their actual threats. the first one read: does your husband know the details of that trip to fond du lac? he might be interested in what hastings has to tell him. the second, which arrived some ten days later, announced: the photograph of the register of a certain hotel in fond du lac for june might be of interest to your husband--who can tell? that was all there was to them, but it doesn't take an expert in plot building to think of a dozen stories that could lie back of that supposedly clandestine trip on the eighth of june. tyson didn't go into particulars at the time. he contented himself with turning the letters over to the department, with the request that the matter be looked into at once. said that his wife had handed them to him and that he knew nothing more about the matter. all that the postal authorities could do at the time was to instruct him to bring in any subsequent communications. but, as the letters stopped suddenly and tyson absolutely refused to state whether he knew of anyone who might be interested in causing trouble between his wife and himself, there was nothing further to be done. tracing a single letter, or even two of them, is like looking for a certain star on a clear night--you've got to know where to look before you have a chance of finding it--and the postmark on the letters wasn't of the least assistance. some three or four weeks later a similar case cropped up. this time it was a woman who brought in the letters--a woman who was red-eyed from lack of sleep and worry. again the communications referred to a definite escapade, but still they made no open demand for money. by the time the third case cropped up the postal authorities in madison were appealing to washington for assistance. before bolton and clarke, the two inspectors originally assigned to the case, could reach the wisconsin capital another set of the mysterious communications had been received and called to the attention of the department. during the three months which followed no less than six complaints were filed, all of them alleging the receipt of veiled threats, and neither the local authorities nor the men from washington could find a single nail on which to hang a theory. finally affairs reached such a stage that the chief sent for allison, who had already made something of a name for himself, and told him to get on the job. "better make the first train for madison," were the directions which elmer received. "so far as we can tell, this appears to be the scheme of some crazy woman, intent upon causing domestic disturbances, rather than a well-laid blackmailing plot. there's no report of any actual demand for money. just threats or suggestions of revelations which would cause family dissension. i don't have to tell you that it's wise to keep the whole business away from the papers as long as you can. they'll get next to it some time, of course, but if we can keep it quiet until we've landed the author of the notes it'll be a whole lot better for the reputation of the department. "bolton and clarke are in madison now, but their reports are far from satisfactory, so you better do a little investigating of your own. you'll have full authority to handle the case any way that you see fit. all we ask is action--before somebody stirs up a real row about the inefficiency of the service and all that rot." elmer smiled grimly, knowing the difficulties under which the department worked, difficulties which make it hard for any bureau to obtain the full facts in a case without being pestered by politicians and harried by local interests which are far from friendly. for this reason you seldom know that uncle sam is conducting an investigation until the whole thing is over and done with and the results are ready to be presented to the grand jury. premature publicity has ruined many cases and prevented many a detective from landing the men he's after, which was the reason that allison slipped into town on rubber heels, and his appearance at the office of the postmaster was the first indication that official had of his arrival. "mr. gordon," said allison, after they had completed the usual preliminaries connected with credentials and so forth, "i want to tackle this case just as if i were the first man who had been called in. i understand that comparatively little progress has been made--" "'comparatively little' is good," chuckled the postmaster. "and i don't wish to be hindered by any erroneous theories which may have been built up. so if you don't mind we'll run over the whole thing from the beginning." "well," replied the postmaster, "you know about the tyson letters and--" "i don't know about a thing," elmer cut in. "or at least we'll work on the assumption that i don't. then i'll be sure not to miss any points and at the same time i'll get a fresh outline of the entire situation." some two hours later postmaster gordon finished his résumé of the various cases which were puzzling the police and the postal officials, for a number of the best men on the police force had been quietly at work trying to trace the poison-pen letters. "are these all the letters that have been received?" allison inquired, indicating some thirty communications which lay before him on the desk. "all that have been called to the attention of this office. of course, there's no telling how many more have been written, about which no complaint has been made. knowing human nature, i should say that at least three times that number have been received and possibly paid for. but the recipients didn't report the matter--for reasons best known to themselves. as a matter of fact--but you're not interested in gossip." "i most certainly am!" declared allison. "when you're handling a matter of this kind, where back-stairs intrigue and servants-hall talk is likely to play a large part, gossip forms a most important factor. what does dame rumor say in this case?" "so far as these letters are concerned, nothing at all. certain influences, which it's hardly necessary to explain in detail, have kept this affair out of the papers--but gossip has it that at least three divorces within as many months have been caused by the receipt of anonymous letters, and that there are a number of other homes which are on the verge of being broken up for a similar reason." "that would appear to bear out your contention that other people have received letters like these, but preferred to take private action upon them. also that, if blackmail were attempted, it sometimes failed--otherwise the matter wouldn't have gotten as far as the divorce court." then, after a careful study of several of the sample letters on the desk, allison continued, "i suppose you have noted the fact that no two of these appear to have been written by the same person?" "yes, but that is a point upon which handwriting experts fail to agree. some of them claim that each was written by a different person. others maintain that one woman was responsible for all of them, and a third school holds that either two or three people wrote them. what're you going to do when experts disagree?" "don't worry about any of 'em," retorted allison. "if we're successful at all we won't have much trouble in proving our case without the assistance of a bunch of so-called experts who only gum up the testimony with long words that a jury can't understand. where are the envelopes in which these letters were mailed?" "most of the people who brought them in failed to keep the envelopes. but we did manage to dig up a few. here they are," and the postmaster tossed over a packet of about half a dozen, of various shapes and sizes. "hum!" mused the postal operative, "all comparatively inexpensive stationery. might have been bought at nearly any corner drug store. any clue in the postmarks?" "not the slightest. as you will note, they were mailed either at the central post office or at the railroad station--places so public that it's impossible to keep a strict watch for the person who mailed 'em. in one case--that of the osgoods--we cautioned the wife to say nothing whatever about the matter, and then ordered every clerk in the post office to look out for letters in that handwriting which might be slipped through the slot. in fact, we closed all the slots save one and placed a man on guard inside night and day." "well, what happened?" inquired allison, a trifle impatiently, as the postmaster paused. "the joke was on us. some two days later a letter which looked suspiciously like these was mailed. our man caught it in time to dart outside and nail the person who posted it. fortunately we discovered that she was mrs. osgood's sister-in-law and that the letter was a perfectly innocent one." "no chance of her being mixed up in the affair?" "no. her husband is a prominent lawyer here, and, besides, we've watched every move she's made since that time. she's one of the few people in town that we're certain of." "yet, you say her handwriting was similar to that which appears on these letters?" "yes, that's one of the many puzzling phases of the whole matter. every single letter is written in a hand which closely resembles that of a relative of the person to whom it is addressed! so much so, in fact, that at least four of the complainants have insisted upon the arrest of these relatives, and have been distinctly displeased at our refusal to place them in jail merely because their handwriting is similar to that of a blackmailer." "why do you say blackmailer? do you know of any demand for money which has been made?" "not directly--but what other purpose could a person have than to extract money? they'd hardly run the risk of going to the pen in order to gratify a whim for causing trouble." "how about the tysons and the osgoods and the other people who brought these letters in--didn't they receive subsequent demands for money?" "they received nothing--not another single letter of any kind." "you mean that the simple fact of making a report to your office appeared to stop the receipt of the threats." "precisely. now that you put it that way, it does look odd. but that's what happened." allison whistled. this was the first ray of light that had penetrated a very dark and mysterious case, and, with its aid, he felt that he might, after all, be successful. contenting himself with a few more questions, including the names of the couples whom gossip stated had been separated through the receipt of anonymous communications, allison bundled the letters together and slipped them into his pocket. "it's quite possible," he stated, as he opened the door leading out of the postmaster's private office, "that you won't hear anything more from me for some time. i hardly think it would be wise to report here too often, or that if you happen to run into me on the street that you would register recognition. i won't be using the name of allison, anyhow, but that of gregg--alvin gregg--who has made a fortune in the operation of chain stores and is looking over the field with a view to establishing connections here. gregg, by the way, is stopping at the majestic hotel, if you care to reach him," and with that he was gone. allison's first move after establishing his identity at the hotel, was to send a wire to a certain alice norcross in chicago--a wire which informed her that "my sister, mrs. mabel kennedy, requests your presence in madison, wisconsin. urgent and immediate." the signature was "alvin gregg, e. a.," and to an inquisitive telegraph operator who inquired the meaning of the initials, allison replied: "electrical assistant, of course," and walked away before the matter could be further discussed. the next evening mrs. mabel kennedy registered at the majestic hotel, and went up to the room which mr. gregg had reserved for her--the one next to his. "it's all right, alice," he informed her a few moments later, after a careful survey had satisfied him that the hall was clear of prying ears. "i told them all about you--that you were my sister 'n' everything. so it's quite respectable." "mrs. kennedy," or alice norcross, as she was known to the members of the postal service whom she had assisted on more than one occasion when the services of a woman with brains were demanded, merely smiled and continued to fix her hair before the mirror. "i'm not worrying about that," she replied. "you boys can always be trusted to arrange the details--but traveling always did play the dickens with my hair! what's the idea, anyhow? why am i mrs. mabel kennedy, and what's she supposed to do?" in a few words allison outlined what he was up against--evidently the operation of a very skillful gang of blackmailers who were not only perfectly sure of their facts, but who didn't run any risks until their victims were too thoroughly cowed to offer any resistance. "the only weak spot in the whole plan," concluded the operative, "is that the letters invariably cease when the prospective victims lay their case before the postmaster." "you mean that you think he's implicated?" "no--but some one in his office is!" snapped allison. "else how would they know when to lay off? that's the only lead we have, and i don't want to work from it, but up to it. do you know anyone who's socially prominent in madison?" "not a soul, but it's no trick to get letters of introduction--even for mrs. mabel kennedy." "fine! go to it! the minute you get 'em start a social campaign here. stage several luncheons, bridge parties, and the like. be sure to create the impression of a woman of means--and if you can drop a few hints about your none too spotless past, so much the better." "you want to draw their fire, eh?" "precisely. it's unfortunate that we can't rig up a husband for you--that would make things easier, but when it's known that i, alvin gregg, am your brother, i think it's more than likely that they'll risk a couple of shots." it was about a month later that mrs. kennedy called up her brother at the hotel majestic and asked him to come over to her apartment at once. "something stirring?" inquired allison as he entered the drawing-room of the suite which his assistant had rented in order to bolster up her social campaign. "the first nibble," replied the girl, holding out a sheet of violet-tinted paper, on which appeared the words: of course your brother and your friends know all about the night you spent alone with a certain man in a cabin in the sierras? "great scott!" ejaculated allison. "do you mean to say it worked?" "like clockwork," was the girl's reply. "acting on your instructions, i made a special play for snaith, the postmaster's confidential secretary and general assistant. i invited him to several of my parties and paid particular attention to what i said when he was around. the first night i got off some clever little remark about conventions--laughing at the fact that it was all right for a woman to spend a day with a man, but hardly respectable for her to spend the evening. the next time he was there--and he was the only one in the party who had been present on the previous occasion--i turned the conversation to snowstorms and admitted that i had once been trapped in a storm in the sierra nevadas and had been forced to spend the night in a cabin. but i didn't say anything then about any companion. the third evening--when an entirely different crowd, with the exception of snaith, was present--some one brought up the subject of what constitutes a gentleman, and my contribution was a speech to the effect that 'one never knows what a man is until he is placed in a position where his brute instincts would naturally come to the front.' "not a single one of those remarks was incriminating or even suspicious--but it didn't take a master mind to add them together and make this note! snaith was the only man who could add them, because he was the only one who was present when they were all made!" "fine work!" applauded allison. "but there's one point you've overlooked. this letter, unlike the rest of its kind, is postmarked kansas city, while snaith was here day before yesterday when this was mailed. i know, because clarke's been camping on his trail for the past three weeks." "then that means--" "that snaith is only one of the gang--the stool-pigeon--or, in this case, the lounge-lizard--who collects the information and passes it on to his chief? exactly. now, having mr. snaith where i want him and knowing pretty well how to deal with his breed, i think the rest will be easy. i knew that somebody in the postmaster's office must be mixed up in the affair and your very astute friend was the most likely prospect. congratulations on landing him so neatly!" "thanks," said the girl, "but what next?" "for you, not a thing. you've handled your part to perfection. the rest is likely to entail a considerable amount of strong-arm work, and i'd rather not have you around. might cramp my style." that night--or, rather, about three o'clock on the following morning--sylvester snaith, confidential secretary to the postmaster of madison, was awakened by the sound of some one moving stealthily about the bedroom of his bachelor apartment. before he could utter a sound the beam of light from an electric torch blazed in his eyes and a curt voice from the darkness ordered him to put up his hands. then: "what do you know about the anonymous letters which have been sent to a number of persons in this city?" demanded the voice. "not--not a thing," stammered the clerk, trying to collect his badly scattered senses. "that's a lie! we know that you supplied the information upon which those letters were based! now come through with the whole dope or, by hell i'll--" the blue-steel muzzle of an automatic which was visible just outside the path of light from the torch completed the threat. snaith, thoroughly cowed, "came through"--told more than even allison had hoped for when he had planned the night raid on a man whom he had sized up as a physical coward. less than an hour after the secretary had finished, elmer was on his way to kansas city, armed with information which he proceeded to lay before the chief of police. "'spencerian peter,' eh?" grunted the chief. "sure, i know where to lay my hands on him--been watching him more or less ever since he got out of leavenworth a couple of years back. but i never connected him with this case." "what do you mean--this case?" demanded allison. "did you know anything about the poison-pen letters in madison?" "madison? no--but i know about the ones that have set certain people here by the ears for the past month. i thought that was what you wanted him for. evidently the game isn't new." "far from it," elmer replied. "i don't know how much he cleaned up in wisconsin, but i'll bet he got away with a nice pile. had a social pet there, who happened to be the postmaster's right-hand man, collect the scandal for him and then he'd fix up the letters--faking some relative's handwriting with that infernal skill of his. then his man friday would tip him off when they made a holler to headquarters and he'd look for other suckers rather than run the risk of getting the department on his trail by playing the same fish too long. that's what finally gave him away--that and the fact that his assistant was bluffed by an electric torch and an empty gun." "well, i'll be hanged," muttered the chief. "you might have been explaining the situation here--except that we don't know who his society informant is. i think we better drop in for a call on 'spencerian' this evening." * * * * * "the call was made on scheduled time," quinn concluded, "but it was hardly of a social nature. you wouldn't expect a post-office operative, a chief of police, and half a dozen cops to stage a pink tea. their methods are inclined to be a trifle more abrupt--though pete, as it happened, didn't attempt to pull any rough stuff. he dropped his gun the moment he saw how many guests were present, and it wasn't very long before they presented him with a formal invitation to resume his none too comfortable but extremely exclusive apartment in leavenworth. snaith, being only an accomplice, got off with two years. the man who wrote the letters and who was the principal beneficiary of the money which they produced, drew ten." "and who got the credit for solving the puzzle?" i inquired. "allison or the norcross girl?" "allison," replied quinn. "alice norcross only worked on condition that her connection with the service be kept quite as much of a secret as the fact that her real name was mrs. elmer allison." "what? she was allison's wife?" i demanded. "quite so," said the former operative. "if you don't believe me, there's a piece of her wedding dress draped over that picture up there," and he pointed to a strip of white silk that hung over one of the framed photographs on the wall. "but i thought you said--" "that that was part of the famous thirty thousand yards which was nailed just after it had been smuggled across the canadian border? i did. but allison got hold of a piece of it and had it made up into a dress for alice. so that bit up there has a double story. you know one of them. remind me to tell you the other sometime." xviii thirty thousand yards of silk "i'd sure like to lead the life of one of those fictional detective heroes," muttered bill quinn, formerly of the united states secret service, as he tossed aside the latest volume of crime stories that had come to his attention. "nothing to do but trail murderers and find the person who lifted the diamond necklace and stuff of that kind. they never have a case that isn't interesting or, for that matter, one in which they aren't successful. must be a great life!" "but aren't the detective stories of real life interesting and oftentimes exciting?" i inquired, adding that those which quinn had already told me indicated that the career of a government operative was far from being deadly monotonous. "some of them are," he admitted, "but many of them drag along for months or even years, sometimes petering out for pure lack of evidence. those, of course, are the cases you never hear of--the ones where uncle sam's men fall down on the job. oh yes, they're fallible, all right. they can't solve every case--any more than a doctor can save the life of every patient he attends. but their percentage, though high, doesn't approach the success of your sherlock holmeses and your thinking machines, your gryces and sweetwaters and lecoqs." "how is it, then, that every story you've told dealt with the success of a government agent--never with his failure?" quinn smiled reminiscently for a moment. then, "what do doctors do with their mistakes?" he asked. "they bury 'em. and that's what any real detective will do--try to forget, except for hoping that some day he'll run up against the man who tricked him. again, most of the yarns i've told you revolved around some of the relics of this room"--waving his hand to indicate the walls of his library--"and these are all mementoes of successful cases. there's no use in keeping the other kind. failures are too common and brains too scarce. that bit of silk up there--" "oh yes," i interrupted, "the one that formed part of alice norcross's wedding dress." "and figured in one of the most sensational plots to defraud the government that was ever uncovered," added quinn. "if ezra marks hadn't located that shipment i wouldn't have had that piece of silk and there wouldn't be any story to tell. so you see, it's really a circle, after all." * * * * * marks [quinn went on] was one of the few men connected with any branch of the government organizations who really lived up to the press-agent notices of the detectives you read about. in the first place, he looked like he might have stepped out of a book--big and long-legged and lanky. a typical yankee, with all of the new-englander's shrewdness and common sense. if you turned ezra loose on a case you could be sure that he wouldn't sit down and try to work it out by deduction. neither would he plunge in and attempt by sheer bravado and gun play to put the thing over. he'd mix the two methods and, more often than not, come back with the answer. then, too, marks had the very happy faculty of drawing assignments that turned out to be interesting. maybe it was luck, but more than likely it was because he followed plans that made 'em so--preferring to wait until he had all the strings to a case and then stage a big round-up of the people implicated. you remember the case of the englishman who smuggled uncut diamonds in the bowl of his pipe and the one you wrote under the title of "wah lee and the flower of heaven"? well, those were typical of ezra's methods--the first was almost entirely analytical, the second mainly gun play plus a painstaking survey of the field he had to cover. but when marks was notified that it was up to him to find out who was running big shipments of valuable silks across the canadian border, without the formality of visiting the customhouse and making the customary payments, he found it advisable to combine the two courses. it was through a wholesale dealer in silks in seattle, washington, that the customs service first learned of the arrival of a considerable quantity of this valuable merchandise, offered through certain underground channels at a price which clearly labeled it as smuggled. possibly the dealer was peeved because he didn't learn of the shipment in time to secure any of it. but his reasons for calling the affair to the attention of the treasury department don't really matter. the main idea was that the silk was there, that it hadn't paid duty, and that some one ought to find out how it happened. when a second and then a third shipment was reported, marks was notified by wire to get to seattle as fast as he could, and there to confer with the collector of the port. it wasn't until after he had arrived that ezra knew what the trouble was, for the story of the smuggled silk hadn't penetrated as far south as san francisco, where he had been engaged in trying to find a cargo of smuggled coolies. "here's a sample of the silk," announced the collector of the port at seattle, producing a piece of very heavy material, evidently of foreign manufacture. "beyond the fact that we've spotted three of the shipments and know where to lay our hands on them if wanted, i've got to admit that we don't know a thing about the case. the department, of course, doesn't want us to trace the silk from this end. the minute you do that you lay yourself open to all sorts of legal tangles and delays--to say nothing of giving the other side plenty of time to frame up a case that would sound mighty good in court. besides, i haven't enough men to handle the job in the short space of time necessary. so you'll have to dig into it and find out who got the stuff in and how. then we'll attend to the fences who've been handling it here." "the old game of passing the buck," thought ezra, as he fingered the sample of silk meditatively. "i'll do the work and they'll get the glory. oh, well--" "any idea of where the shipments came from?" he inquired. "there's no doubt but that it's of japanese manufacture, which, of course, would appear to point to a shipping conspiracy of some nature. but i hardly think that's true here. already eighteen bolts of silk have been reported in seattle, and, as you know, that's a pretty good sized consignment. you couldn't stuff 'em into a pill box or carry 'em inside a walking stick, like you could diamonds. whoever's handling this job is doing it across the border, rather than via the shipping route." "no chance of a slip-up in your information, is there, chief?" ezra inquired, anxiously. "i'd hate to start combing the border and then find that the stuff was being slipped in through the port." "no," and the collector of customs was positive in his reply. "i'm not taking a chance on that tip. i know what i'm talking about. my men have been watching the shipping like hawks. ever since that consignment of antique ivory got through last year we've gone over every vessel with a microscope, probing the mattresses and even pawing around in the coal bins. i'm positive that there isn't a place big enough to conceal a yard of silk that the boys haven't looked into--to say nothing of eighteen bolts. "besides," added the collector, "the arrival of the silk hasn't coincided with the arrival of any of the ships from japan--not by any stretch of the imagination." "all right, i'll take up the trail northward then," replied marks. "don't be surprised if you fail to hear from me for a couple of months or more. if washington inquires, tell them that i'm up on the border somewhere and let it go at that." "going to take anybody with you?" "not a soul, except maybe a guide that i'll pick up when i need him. if there is a concerted movement to ship silk across the line--and it appears that there is--the more men you have working with you the less chance there is for success. border runners are like moonshiners, they're not afraid of one man, but if they see a posse they run for cover and keep out of sight until the storm blows over. and there isn't one chance in a thousand of finding 'em meanwhile. you've got to play them, just like you would a fish, so the next time you hear from me you will know that i've either landed my sharks or that they've slipped off the hook!" it was about a month later that the little town of northport, up in the extreme northeastern corner of washington, awoke to find a stranger in its midst. strangers were something of a novelty in northport, and this one--a man named marks, who stated that he was "prospectin' for some good lumber"--caused quite a bit of talk for a day or two. then the town gossips discovered that he was not working in the interest of a large company, as had been rumored, but solely on his own hook, so they left him severely alone. besides, it was the height of the logging season and there was too much work to be done along the columbia river to worry about strangers. marks hadn't taken this into consideration when he neared the eastern part of the state, but he was just as well pleased. if logs and logging served to center the attention of the natives elsewhere, so much the better. it would give him greater opportunity for observation and possibly the chance to pick up some information. up to this time his trip along the border had been singularly uneventful and lacking in results. in fact, it was practically a toss-up with him whether he would continue on into idaho and montana, on the hope that he would find something there, or go back to seattle and start fresh. however, he figured that it wouldn't do any harm to spend a week or two in the neighborhood of the columbia--and, as events turned out, it was a very wise move. partly out of curiosity and partly because it was in keeping with his self-assumed character of lumber prospector, marks made a point of joining the gangs of men who worked all day and sometimes long into the night keeping the river clear of log jams and otherwise assisting in the movement of timber downstream. like everyone who views these operations for the first time, he marveled at the dexterity of the loggers who perched upon the treacherous slippery trunks with as little thought for danger as if they had been crossing a country road. but their years of familiarity with the current and the logs themselves had given them a sense of balance which appeared to inure them to peril. nor was this ability to ride logs confined wholly to the men. some of the girls from the near-by country often worked in with the men, handling the lighter jobs and attending to details which did not call for the possession of a great amount of strength. one of these, marks noted, was particularly proficient in her work. apparently there wasn't a man in northport who could give her points in log riding, and the very fact that she was small and wiry provided her with a distinct advantage over men who were twice her weight. apart from her grace and beauty, there was something extremely appealing about the girl, and ezra found himself watching her time after time as she almost danced across the swirling, bark-covered trunks--hardly seeming to touch them as she moved. the girl was by no means oblivious of the stranger's interest in her ability to handle at least a part of the men's work. she caught his eye the very first day he came down to the river, and after that, whenever she noted that he was present she seemed to take a new delight in skipping lightly from log to log, lingering on each just long enough to cause it to spin dangerously and then leaping to the next. but one afternoon she tried the trick once too often. either she miscalculated her distance or a sudden swirl of the current carried the log for which she was aiming out of her path, for her foot just touched it, slipped and, before she could recover her balance, she was in the water--surrounded by logs that threatened to crush the life out of her at any moment. startled by her cry for help, three of the lumbermen started toward her--but the river, like a thing alive, appeared to thwart their efforts by opening up a rift in the jam on either side, leaving a gap too wide to be leaped, and a current too strong to be risked by men who were hampered by their heavy hobnailed shoes. marks, who had been watching the girl, had his coat off almost as soon as she hit the water. an instant later he had discarded his shoes and had plunged in, breasting the river with long overhand strokes that carried him forward at an almost unbelievable speed. before the men on the logs knew what was happening, the operative was beside the girl, using one hand to keep her head above water, and the other to fend off the logs which were closing in from every side. "quick!" he called. "a rope! a--" but the trunk of a tree, striking his head a glancing blow, cut short his cry and forced him to devote every atom of his strength to remaining afloat until assistance arrived. after an interval which appeared to be measured in hours, rather than seconds, a rope splashed within reach and the pair were hauled to safety. the girl, apparently unhurt by her drenching, shook herself like a wet spaniel and then turned to where marks was seated, trying to recover his breath. "thanks," she said, extending her hand. "i don't know who you are, stranger, but you're a man!" "it wasn't anything to make a fuss about," returned ezra, rising and turning suspiciously red around the ears, for it was the first time that a girl had spoken to him in that way for more years than he cared to remember. then, with the vermont drawl that always came to the surface when he was excited or embarrassed, he added: "it was worth gettin' wet to have you speak like that." this time it was the girl who flushed, and, with a palpable effort to cover her confusion, she turned away, stopping to call back over her shoulder, "if you'll come up to dad's place to-night i'll see that you're properly thanked." "dad's place?" repeated ezra to one of the men near by. "where's that?" "she means her stepfather's house up the river," replied the lumberman. "you can't miss it. just this side the border. ask anybody where old man petersen lives." though the directions were rather vague, marks started "up the river" shortly before sunset, and found but little difficulty in locating the big house--half bungalow and half cabin--where petersen and his stepdaughter resided, in company with half a dozen foremen of lumber gangs, and an indian woman who had acted as nurse and chaperon and cook and general servant ever since the death of the girl's mother a number of years before. while he was still stumbling along, trying to pierce the gloom which settled almost instantly after sunset, marks was startled to see a white figure rise suddenly before him and to hear a feminine voice remark, "i wondered if you'd come." "didn't you know i would?" replied ezra. "your spill in the river had me scared stiff for a moment, but it was a mighty lucky accident for me." at the girl's suggestion they seated themselves outside, being joined before long by petersen himself, who, with more than a trace of his slavic ancestry apparent in his voice, thanked marks for rescuing his daughter. it was when the older man left them and the girl's figure was outlined with startling distinctness by the light from the open door, that ezra received a shock which brought him to earth with a crash. in the semidarkness he had been merely aware that the girl was wearing a dress which he would have characterized as "something white." but once he saw her standing in the center of the path of light which streamed from the interior of the house there could be no mistake. the dress was of white silk! more than that, it was made from material which marks would have sworn had been cut from the same bolt as the sample which the collector had shown him in seattle! "what's the matter, mr. marks?" inquired the girl, evidently noting the surprise which ezra was unable completely to suppress. "seen a ghost or something?" "i thought for a moment i had," was the operative's reply, as he played for time. "it must be your dress. my--my sister had one just like it once." "it is rather pretty, isn't it? in spite of the fact that i made it myself--out of some silk that dad--that dad brought home." ezra thought it best to change the subject, and as soon as he could find the opportunity said good night, with a promise to be on hand the next day to see that the plunge in the river wasn't repeated. but the next morning he kept as far away from the girl--fay petersen--as he could, without appearing to make a point of the matter. he had thought the whole thing over from every angle and his conclusion was always the same. the petersens were either hand in glove with the gang that was running the silk across the border or they were doing the smuggling themselves. the lonely cabin, the proximity to the border, the air of restraint which he had noted the previous evening (based principally upon the fact that he had not been invited indoors), the silk dress--all were signs which pointed at least to a knowledge of the plot to beat the customs. more than that, when marks commenced to make some guarded inquiries about the family of the girl whom he had saved from drowning, he met with a decidedly cool reception. "old man petersen has some big loggin' interests in these parts," declared the most loquacious of his informants, "an' they say he's made a pile o' money in the last few months. some say it's timber an' others say it's--well, it ain't nobody's concern how a man makes a livin' in these parts, s'long as he behaves himself." "isn't petersen behaving himself?" asked ezra. "stranger," was the reply, "it ain't always healthy to pry into another man's affairs. better be satisfied with goin' to see the girl. that's more than anybody around here's allowed to do." "so there was an air of mystery about the petersen house, after all!" marks thought. it hadn't been his imagination or an idea founded solely upon the sight of the silk dress! the next fortnight found the operative a constant and apparently a welcome visitor at the house up the river. but, hint as he might, he was never asked indoors--a fact that made him all the more determined to see what was going on. while he solaced himself with the thought that his visits were made strictly in the line of duty, that his only purpose was to discover petersen's connection with the smuggled silk, ezra was unable entirely to stifle another feeling--something which he hadn't known since the old days in vermont, when the announcement of a girl's wedding to another man had caused him to leave home and seek his fortunes in boston. fay petersen was pretty. there was no denying that fact. also she was very evidently prepossessed in favor of the man who had saved her from the river. but this fact, instead of soothing marks's conscience, only irritated it the more. here he was on the verge of making love to a girl--really in love with her, as he admitted to himself--and at the same time planning and hoping to send her stepfather to the penitentiary. he had hoped that the fact that petersen was not her own father might make things a little easier for him, but the girl had shown in a number of ways that she was just as fond of her foster-parent as she would have been of her own. "he's all the daddy i ever knew," she said one night, "and if anything ever happened to him i think it would drive me crazy," which fell far short of easing ezra's mind, though it strengthened his determination to settle the matter definitely. the next evening that he visited the petersens he left a little earlier than usual, and only followed the road back to northport sufficiently far to make certain that he was not being trailed. then retracing his steps, he approached the house from the rear, his soft moccasins moving silently across the ground, his figure crouched until he appeared little more than a shadow between the trees. just as he reached the clearing which separated the dwelling from the woods, he stumbled and almost fell. his foot had caught against something which felt like the trunk of a fallen tree, but which moved with an ease entirely foreign to a log of that size. puzzled, marks waited until a cloud which had concealed the moon had drifted by, and then commenced his examination. yes, it was a log--and a big one, still damp from its immersion in the river. but it was so light that he could lift it unaided and it rang to a rap from his knuckles. the end which he first examined was solid, but at the other end the log was a mere shell, not more than an inch of wood remaining inside the bark. it was not until he discovered a round plug of wood--a stopper, which fitted precisely into the open end of the log--that the solution of the whole mystery dawned upon him. the silk had been shipped across the border from canada inside the trunks of trees, hollowed out for the purpose! wrapping the bolts in oiled silk would keep them perfectly waterproof and the plan was so simple as to be impervious to detection, save by accident. emboldened by his discovery, marks slipped silently across the cleared space to the shadow of the house, and thence around to the side, where a few cautious cuts of his bowie knife opened a peep hole in the shutter which covered the window. through this he saw what he had hoped for, yet feared to find--petersen and three of his men packing bolts of white silk in boxes for reshipment. what was more, he caught snatches of their conversation which told him that another consignment of the smuggled goods was due from trail, just across the border, within the week. retreating as noiselessly as he had come, marks made his way back to northport, where he wrote two letters--or, rather, a letter and a note. the first, addressed to the sheriff, directed that personage to collect a posse and report to ezra marks, of the customs service, on the second day following. this was forwarded by special messenger, but marks pocketed the note and slipped it cautiously under the door of the petersen house the next evening. "it's a fifty-fifty split," he consoled his conscience. "the government gets the silk and the petersens get their warning. i don't suppose i'll get anything but the devil for not landing them!" the next morning when the sheriff and his posse arrived they found, only an empty house, but in the main room were piled boxes containing no less than thirty thousand yards of white silk--valued at something over one hundred thousand dollars. on top of the boxes was an envelope addressed to ezra marks, esq., and within it a note which read, "i don't know who you are, mr. customs officer, but you're a man!" there was no signature, but the writing was distinctly feminine. * * * * * "and was that all marks ever heard from her?" i asked, when quinn paused. "so far as i know," said the former operative. "of course, washington never heard about that part of the case. they were too well satisfied with ezra's haul and the incoming cargo, which they also landed, to care much about the petersens. so the whole thing was entered on marks's record precisely as he had figured it--a fifty-fifty split. you see, even government agents aren't always completely successful--especially when they're fighting cupid as well as crooks!" xix the clue in the classified column quinn tossed his evening paper aside with a gesture in which disgust was mingled in equal proportion with annoyance. "why is it," he inquired, testily, "that some fools never learn anything?" "possibly that's because they're fools," i suggested. "what's the trouble now?" "look at that!" and the former secret service operative recovered the paper long enough to indicate a short news item near the bottom of the first page--an item which bore the headline, "new fifty-dollar counterfeit discovered." "yes," i agreed, "there always are people foolish enough to change bills without examining them any too closely. but possibly this one is very cleverly faked." "fools not to examine them!" echoed quinn. "that isn't the direction in which the idiocy lies. the fools are the people who think they can counterfeit uncle sam's currency and get away with it. barnum must have been right. there's a sucker born every minute--and those that don't try to beat the ponies or buck the stock market turn to counterfeiting for a living. they get it, too, in leavenworth or atlanta or some other place that maintains a federal penitentiary. "they never seem to learn anything by others' experience, either. you'd think, after the thurene case, it would be perfectly apparent that no one could beat the counterfeiting game for long." "the thurene case? i don't seem to remember that. the name is unusual, but--" "yes, and that wasn't the only part of the affair that was out of the ordinary," quinn cut in. "spencer graham also contributed some work that was well off the beaten path--not forgetting the assistance rendered by a certain young woman." * * * * * probably the most remarkable portion of the case [continued quinn] was the fact that graham didn't get in on it until thurene had been arrested. nevertheless, if it hadn't been for his work in breaking through an ironclad alibi the government might have been left high and dry, with a trunkful of suspicions and mighty little else. somewhere around the latter part of august the new york branch of the secret service informed washington that a remarkably clever counterfeit fifty-dollar bill had turned up in albany--a bill in which the engraving was practically perfect and the only thing missing from the paper was the silk fiber. this, however, was replaced by tiny red and blue lines, drawn in indelible ink. the finished product was so exceptionally good that, if it had not been for the lynxlike eyes of a paying teller--plus the highly developed sense of touch which bank officials accumulate--the note would have been changed without a moment's hesitation. the man who presented it, who happened to be well known to the bank officials, was informed that the bill was counterfeit and the matter was reported through the usual channels. a few days later another bill, evidently from the same batch, was picked up in syracuse, and from that time on it rained counterfeits so hard that every teller in the state threw a fit whenever a fifty-dollar bill came in, either for deposit or for change. hardly had the flow of upstate counterfeits lessened than the bills began to make their appearance in and around new york, sometimes in banks, but more often in the resorts patronized by bookmakers from jamaica and the other near-by race tracks. the significance of this fact didn't strike the secret service men assigned to the case until the horses had moved southward. the instant one of the bills was reported in baltimore two operatives were ordered to haunt the _pari-mutuel_ booths at pimlico, with instructions to pay particular attention to the windows where the larger wagers were laid. an expert in counterfeits also took up his position inside the cage, to signal the men outside as soon as a phony bill was presented. it was during the rush of the betting after the two-year-olds had gone to the post for the first race that the signal came--indicating that a man about forty-five years of age, well dressed and well groomed, had exchanged two of the counterfeits for a one hundred-dollar ticket on the favorite. hollister and sheehan, the secret service men, took no chances with their prey. neither did they run the risk of arresting him prematurely. figuring that it was well within the realms of possibility that he had received the bills in exchange for other money, and that he was therefore ignorant of the fact that they were spurious, they contented themselves with keeping close to him during the race and the interval which followed. when the favorite won, the man they were watching cashed his bet and stowed his winnings away in a trousers pocket. then, after a prolonged examination of the jockeys, the past performances and the weights of the various horses, he made his way back to the window to place another bet. again the signal--and this time hollister and sheehan closed in on their man, notifying him that he was under arrest and advising him to come along without creating any disturbance. "arrest for what?" he demanded. "passing counterfeit money," replied hollister, flashing his badge. then, as the man started to protest, sheehan counseled him to reserve his arguments until later, and the trio made their way out of the inclosure in silence. when searched, in baltimore, two sums of money were found upon the suspect--one roll in his left-hand trousers pocket being made up of genuine currency, including that which he had received for picking the winner of the first race, and the one in the right-hand pocket being entirely of counterfeit fifty-dollar bills--forty-eight in number. when questioned, the prisoner claimed that his name was robert j. thurene of new haven, and added that there were plenty of people in the connecticut city who would vouch for his respectability. "then why," inquired the chief of the secret service, who had come over from washington to take charge of the case, "do you happen to have two thousand four hundred dollars in counterfeit money on you?" at that moment thurene dropped his bomb--or, rather, one of the many which rendered the case far from monotonous. "if you'll search my room at the belvedere," he suggested, "you'll find some five thousand dollars more." "what?" demanded the chief. "do you admit that you deliberately brought seven thousand five hundred dollars of counterfeit money here and tried to pass it?" "i admit nothing," corrected the arrested man. "you stated that the fifty-dollar bills which you found upon me when i was searched against my will were false. i'll take your word for that. but if they are counterfeit, i'm merely telling you that there are a hundred more like them in my room at the hotel." "of course you're willing to state where they came from?" suggested the chief, who was beginning to sense the fact that something underlay thurene's apparent sincerity. "certainly. i found them." "old stuff," sneered one of the operatives standing near by. "not only an old alibi, but one which you'll have a pretty hard time proving." "do you happen to have a copy of yesterday's _news_ handy?" thurene asked. when the paper was produced he turned rapidly to the lost and found column and pointed to an advertisement which appeared there: found--an envelope containing a sum of money. owner may recover same by notifying robert j. thurene, belvedere hotel, and proving property. "there," he continued, after reading the advertisement aloud, "that is the notice which i inserted after finding the money which you say is counterfeit." "where did you find it?" "in the pennsylvania station, night before last. i had just come in from new york, and chanced to see the envelope lying under one of the rows of seats in the center of the waiting room. it attracted my attention, but when i examined it i was amazed to find that it contained one hundred and fifty fifty-dollar bills, all apparently brand new. naturally, i didn't care to part with the money unless i was certain that i was giving it up to the rightful owner, so i carried it with me to the hotel and advertised the loss at once. "the next afternoon i went out to the track and found, when it was too late, that the only money i had with me was that contained in the envelope. i used a couple of the bills, won, and, being superstitious, decided to continue betting with that money. that's the reason i used it this afternoon. come to think of it, you won't find the original five thousand dollars in my room. part of it is the money which i received at the track and which i replaced in order to make up the sum i found. but most of the bills are there." "you said," remarked the chief, striking another tack, "that your name is thurene and that you live in new haven. what business are you in?" "stationery. you'll find that my rating in bradstreet's is excellent, even though my capital may not be large. what's more"--and here the man's voice became almost aggressive--"any bank in new haven and any member of the chamber of commerce will vouch for me. i've a record of ten years there and some ten in lowell, mass., which will bear the closest possible inspection." and he was right, at that. in the first place, a search of his room at the hotel brought to light a large official envelope containing just the sum of money he had mentioned, counterfeit bills and real ones. secondly, a wire to new haven elicited the information that "robert j. thurene, answering to description in inquiry received, has operated a successful stationery store here for the past ten years. financial standing excellent. wide circle of friends, all of whom vouch for his character and integrity." when this wire was forwarded to washington, the chief having returned to headquarters, spencer graham received a hurry-up call to report in the main office. there he was informed that he was to take charge of the thurene case and see what he could find out. "i don't have to tell you," added the chief, "that it's rather a delicate matter. either the man is the victim of circumstances--in which case we'll have to release him with profound apologies and begin all over again--or he's a mighty clever crook. we can't afford to take any chances. the case as it finally stands will have to be presented in court, and, therefore, must be proof against the acid test of shrewd lawyers for the defense, lawyers who will rely upon the newspaper advertisement and thurene's spotless record as indications of his innocence." "that being the case, chief, why take any chances right now? the case hasn't gotten into the papers, so why not release thurene?" "and keep him under constant surveillance? that wouldn't be a bad idea. the moment he started to leave the country we could nab him, and meanwhile we would have plenty of time to look into the matter. of course, there's always the danger of suicide--but that's proof of guilt, and it would save the service a lot of work in the long run. good idea! we'll do it." so it was that robert j. thurene of new haven was released from custody with the apologies of the secret service--who retained the counterfeit money, but returned the real bills--while spencer graham went to work on the baltimore end of the case, four operatives took up the job of trailing the stationer, and rita clarke found that she had important business to transact in connecticut. anyone who didn't know rita would never have suspected that, back of her brown eyes lay a fund of information upon a score of subjects--including stenography, the best methods of filing, cost accounting, and many other points which rendered her invaluable around an office. even if they found this out, there was something else which she kept strictly to herself--the fact that she was engaged to a certain operative in the united states secret service, sometimes known as number thirty-three, and sometimes as spencer graham. in reply to spencer's often-repeated requests that she set a day for their wedding, miss clarke would answer: "and lose the chance to figure in any more cases? not so that you could notice it! as long as i'm single you find that you can use me every now and then, but if i were married i'd have too many domestic cares. no, spencer, let's wait until we get one more big case, and then--well, we'll say one month from the day it's finished." which was the reason that graham and his fiancée had a double reason for wanting to bring thurene to earth. the first place that graham went to in baltimore was the pennsylvania station, where he made a number of extended inquiries of certain employees there. after that he went to the newspaper office, where he conferred with the clerk whose business it was to receive the lost and found advertisements, finally securing a copy of the original notice in thurene's handwriting. also some other information which he jotted down in a notebook reserved for that purpose. several days spent in baltimore failed to turn up any additional leads and graham returned to washington with a request for a list of the various places where counterfeit fifty-dollar bills had been reported during the past month. the record sounded like the megaphonic call of a train leaving grand central station--new york, yonkers, poughkeepsie, syracuse, troy, and points north, with a few other cities thrown in for good measure. so spencer informed the chief that he would make his headquarters in new york for the next ten days or so, wired rita to the same effect, and left washington on the midnight train. in new york he discovered only what he had already known, plus one other very significant bit of evidence--something which would have warranted him in placing thurene again under arrest had he not been waiting for word from rita. he knew that it would take her at least a month to work up her end of the case, so graham put in the intervening time in weaving his net a little stronger, for he had determined that the next time the new haven stationer was taken into custody would be the last--that the government would have a case which all the lawyers on earth couldn't break. early in december he received a wire from rita--a telegram which contained the single word, "come"--but that was enough. he was in new haven that night, and, in a quiet corner of the taft grille the girl gave him an account of what she had found. "getting into thurene's store was the easiest part of the whole job," she admitted. "it took me less than a day to spot one of the girls who wanted to get married, bribe her to leave, and then arrive bright and early the following morning, in response to the 'stenographer wanted' advertisement." "thurene's had a lot of practice writing ads lately," remarked graham, with a smile. "what do you mean?" "nothing. tell you later. what'd you find in the store?" "not a thing--until day before yesterday. i thought it best to move slowly and let matters take their own course as far as possible. so i contented myself with doing the work which had been handled by the girl whose place i took--dictation, typing, and the rest. then i found that the correspondence files were in shocking shape. i grabbed the opportunity to do a little night work by offering to bring them up to date. "'certainly,' said the boss, and then took good care to be on hand when i arrived after dinner that night. the very way he hung around and watched every movement i made convinced me that the stuff was somewhere on the premises. but where? that's what i couldn't figure out. "having demonstrated my ability by three hours of stiff work on the files, i suggested a few days later that i had a first-hand knowledge of cost accounting and that i would be glad to help get his books in shape for the holiday business, the old man who usually attends to this being sick. again thurene assented and again he blew in, 'to explain any entries which might prove troublesome.' i'll say this for him, though--there isn't a single incriminating entry on the books. every purchase is accounted for, down to the last paper of pins. "then, when i felt that i had wormed myself sufficiently well into his good graces, i hinted that i might be able to help out by supervising the system in the engraving department--checking up the purchases, watching the disbursements, keeping an eye on the stock and so on. rather to my surprise, he didn't offer any objection. said that my work had been of so much help elsewhere that he would be glad to have me watch the engravers' work. "it was there that i got my first real lead--at least i hope it's a lead. back of the engraving department is a small room, locked and padlocked, where the boss is supposed to ride his personal hobby of amateur photography. i asked one of the men the reason for guarding a dark room so carefully, and he replied that thurene claimed to be on the verge of making a great discovery in color photography, but that the process took a long time and he didn't want to run the risk of having it disturbed. i'm to have a look at his color process to-night." "what?" cried graham. "he's going to show you what is in the double-locked room?" "that's what he's promised to do. i haven't the least hope of seeing anything incriminating--all the evidence will probably be well hidden--but this morning i expressed a casual interest in photography and remarked that i understood he was working on a new color process. i did it mainly to see how he would react. but he never batted an eyelid. 'i've been making some interesting experiments recently,' he said, 'and they ought to reach a climax to-night. if you'd care to see how they turn out, suppose you meet me here at nine o'clock and we'll examine them together.'" "but rita," graham protested, "you don't mean to say that you're going to put yourself entirely in this man's power?" the girl's first answer was a laugh, and then, "what do you mean, 'put myself in his power'?" she mocked. "you talk like the hero of a melodrama. this isn't the first time that i've been alone in the store with him after dark. besides, he doesn't suspect a thing and it's too good a chance to miss. meet me here the first thing in the morning--around eight-thirty--and i'll give you the details of thurene's secret chamber, provided it contains anything interesting." "rita, i can't--" graham started to argue, but the girl cut in with, "you can't stop me? no, you can't. what's more, i'll have to hurry. it's ten minutes to nine now. see you in the morning." the next thing graham knew she had slipped away from the table and was on her way out of the grille. when rita reached the thurene establishment, promptly at nine, she found the proprietor waiting for her. "on time, as usual," he laughed. "now you'd better keep your hat and coat on. there's no heat in the dark room and i don't want you to catch cold. the plates ought to be ready by this time. we'll go right down and take a look at them." guided by the light from the lantern which the stationer held high in the air, the girl started down the steps leading to the basement where the engraving department was located. she heard thurene close the door behind him, but failed to hear him slip the bolt which, as they afterward found, had been well oiled. in fact, it was not until they had reached the center of the large room, in one corner of which was the door to the private photographic laboratory, that she knew anything was wrong. then it was too late. before she could move, thurene leaned forward and seized her--one arm about her waist, the other over her mouth. struggle as she might, rita was unable to move. slowly, relentlessly, thurene turned her around until she faced him, and then, with a sudden movement of the arm that encircled her waist, secured a wad of cotton waste, which he had evidently prepared for just such an emergency. when he had crammed this in the girl's mouth and tied her hands securely, he moved forward to open the door to the dark room. "thought i was easy, didn't you?" he sneered. "didn't think i'd see through your scheme to get a position here and your infernal cleverness with the books and the accounts? want to see something of my color process, eh? well, you'll have an opportunity to study it at your leisure, for it'll be twelve good hours before anyone comes down here, and by that time i'll be where the rest of your crowd can't touch me." "come along! in with you!" at that moment there was a crash of glass from somewhere near the ceiling and something leaped into the room--something that took only two strides to reach thurene and back him up against the wall, with the muzzle of a very businesslike automatic pressed into the pit of his stomach. the whole thing happened so quickly that by the time rita recovered her balance and turned around she only saw the stationer with his hands well above his head and spencer graham--her spencer--holding him up at the point of a gun. "take this," snapped the operative, producing a penknife, "and cut that girl's hands loose! no false moves now--or i'm likely to get nervous!" a moment later rita was free and thurene had resumed his position against the wall. "frisk him!" ordered graham, and then, when the girl had produced a miscellaneous collection of money, keys and jewelry from the man's pockets, spencer allowed him to drop his arms long enough to snap a pair of handcuffs in place. "this time," announced the secret service man, "you won't be released merely because of a fake ad. and the testimony of your friends. pretty clever scheme, that. inserting a 'found advertisement' to cover your possession of counterfeit money in case you were caught. but you overlooked a couple of points. the station in baltimore was thoroughly swept just five minutes before your train arrived from new york and every man on duty there is ready to swear that he wouldn't have overlooked anything as large as the envelope containing that phony money. then, too, the clerk in the _news_ office received your advertisement shortly after noon the next day--so you didn't advertise it 'at once,' as you said you did. "but your biggest mistake was in playing the game too often. here"--producing a page from the classified section of a new york newspaper--"is the duplicate of your baltimore ad., inserted to cover your tracks in case they caught you at jamaica. i've got the original, in your handwriting, in my pocket." "but how'd you happen to arrive here at the right moment?" exclaimed rita. "i wasn't any too well convinced that you'd fooled our friend here," graham replied. "so i trailed you, and, attracted by the light from thurene's lantern, managed to break in that window at the time you needed me." "there's only one thing that puzzles me," the operative continued, turning to thurene. "what made you take up counterfeiting? your business record was clear enough before that, and, of course, being an engraver, it wasn't hard for you to find the opportunity. what was the motive?" for a full sixty seconds the man was silent and then, from between his clenched teeth, came two words, "wall street." "i might have guessed that," replied graham. "i'll see you safely in jail first and then have a look through your room. want to come along, rita?" "no, thanks, spencer. i've had enough for one evening. let's see. this is the sixth of december. suppose we plan a certain event for the sixth of january?" * * * * * "and so they were married and lived happily ever after?" i added, as quinn paused. "and so they were married," he amended. "i can't say as to the rest of it--though i'm inclined to believe that they were happy. anyhow, rita knew when she had enough--and that's all you can really ask for in a wife." xx in the shadow of the capitol "it won't be long until they're all back--with their pretty clothes and their jeweled bags and their air of innocent sophistication--but until at least a dozen of them gather here washington won't be itself again." bill quinn and i had been discussing the change which had come over washington since peace had disrupted the activities of the various war organizations, and then, after a pause, the former member of the secret service had referred to "them" and to "their pretty clothes." "who do you mean?" i inquired. "with the possible exception of some prominent politicians i don't know anyone whose presence is essential to make washington 'itself again.' and certainly nobody ever accused politicians, with the possible exception of j. ham lewis, of wearing pretty clothes. even he didn't carry a jeweled bag." "i wasn't thinking of congressmen or senators or even members of the cabinet," replied quinn with a smile. "like the poor, they are always with us, and also like the poor, there are times when we would willingly dispense with them. but the others--they make life worth living, particularly for members of the secret service, who are apt to be a bit bored with the monotony of chasing counterfeiters and guarding the president. "the ones i refer to are the beautifully gowned women whose too perfect english often betrays their foreign origin almost as certainly as would a dialect. they are sent here by various governments abroad to find out things which we would like to keep secret and their presence helps to keep washington cosmopolitan and--interesting. "during the war--well, if you recall the case of jimmy callahan and the electric sign at norfolk--the affair which i believe you wrote under the title of 'a flash in the night'--you know what happened to those who were caught plotting against the government. in times of peace, however, things are different." "why? isn't a spy always a spy?" "so far as their work is concerned they are. but by a sort of international agreement, tacit but understood, those who seek to pry into the affairs of other governments during the years of peace are not treated with the same severity as when a nation is fighting for its life." "but surely we have no secrets that a foreign government would want!" i protested. "that's one of the earmarks of a republic. everything is aired in the open, even dirty linen." quinn didn't answer for a moment, and when he did reply there was a reminiscent little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "do you remember the disappearance of the plans of the battleship _pennsylvania_?" he asked. "yes, i think i do. but as i recall it the matter was never cleared up." "officially, it wasn't. unofficially, it was. at least there are several persons connected with the united states secret service who are positive that sylvia sterne lifted the blue prints and afterward--well, we might as well begin the story at the first chapter." * * * * * the name she was known by on this side of the atlantic [continued the former government agent] was not that of sterne, though subsequent investigations proved that that was what she was called in paris and vienna and rome and london. when she arrived in washington her visiting cards bore the name of the countess stefani, and as there are half a dozen counts of that name to be found in the peerages of as many principalities, no one inquired too deeply into her antecedents. yes, she admitted that there was a count somewhere in the background, but she led those who were interested to the conclusion he had never understood her peculiar temperament and that therefore she was sojourning in washington, seeking pleasure and nothing more. a slow, soulful glance from her violet eyes usually accompanied the statement--and caused the man to whom the statement was made (it was always a man) to wonder how anyone could fail to appreciate so charming a creature. "charming" is really a very good word to apply to the countess sylvia. her manner was charming and her work was likewise. charming secrets and invitations and news out of those with whom she came in contact. her first public appearance, so far as the secret service was concerned, was at one of the receptions at the british embassy. she was there on invitation, of course, but it was an invitation secured in her own original way. immediately upon arriving in washington she had secured an apartment at brickley court, an apartment which chanced to be directly across the hall from the one occupied by a mrs. sheldon, a young widow with a rather large acquaintance in the diplomatic set. some ten days after the countess sylvia took up her residence on connecticut avenue she visited one of the department stores and made several purchases, ordering them sent c. o. d. to her apartment. only, instead of giving the number as four thirty-six, her tongue apparently slipped and she said four thirty-seven, which was mrs. sheldon's number. of course, if the parcels had been paid for or charged they would have been left at the desk in the lobby, but, being collect, the boy brought them to the door of four thirty-seven. as was only natural, mrs. sheldon was about to order them returned when the door across the hall opened and the countess, attired in one of her most fetching house gowns, appeared and explained the mistake. "how stupid of me!" she exclaimed. "i must have given the girl the wrong apartment number. i'm awfully sorry for troubling you, mrs. sheldon." the widow, being young, could not restrain the look of surprise when her name was mentioned by a woman who was an utter stranger, but the countess cut right in with: "you probably don't remember me, but we met two years ago on derby day in london. the count and i had the pleasure of meeting you through lord cartwright, but it was just before the big race, and when i looked around again you had been swallowed up in the crowd." mrs. sheldon had been at the derby two years before, as the countess doubtless knew before she arrived in washington, and also she remembered having met a number of persons during that eventful afternoon. so the rest was easy for sylvia, particularly as the first half hour of their conversation uncovered the fact that they had many mutual friends, all of whom, however, were in europe. through mrs. sheldon the countess met a number of the younger and lesser lights of the diplomatic corps and the invitation to the reception at the british embassy was hers for the suggestion. before the evening was over several men were asking themselves where they had met that "very charming countess" before. some thought it must have been in paris, others were certain that it was in vienna, and still others maintained that her face brought back memories of their detail in saint petersburg (the name of the russian capital had not then been altered). sylvia didn't enlighten any of them. neither did she volunteer details, save of the vaguest nature, contenting herself with knowing glances which hinted much and bits of frothy gossip which conveyed nothing. the beauty of her face and the delicate curves of her figure did the rest. before the evening was over she had met at least the younger members of all the principal embassies and legations, not to mention three men whose names appeared upon the roster of the senate committee on foreign relations. to one of these, senator lattimer, she paid particular attention, assuring him that she would be honored if he would "drop in some afternoon for tea," an invitation which the gentleman from iowa accepted with alacrity a few days later. as was afterward apparent, the countess had arranged her schedule with considerable care. she had arrived in washington early in the fall, and by the time the season was well under way she had the entrée to the majority of the semiprivate functions--teas and receptions and dances to which a number of guests were invited. here, of course, she had an opportunity to pick up a few morsels of information--crumbs which fell from the tables of diplomacy--but that wasn't what she was after. she wanted a copy of a certain confidential report referring to american relations abroad, and, what's more, she'd have gotten it if she hadn't overstepped herself. through what might have been termed in vulgar circles "pumping" senator lattimer, though the countess's casual inquiries from time to time evinced only a natural interest in the affairs of the world, sylvia found out that the report would be completed early in march and that a copy would be in the senator's office for at least two days--or, what interested her more, two nights. she didn't intimate that she would like to see it. that would have been too crude. in fact, she deftly turned the subject and made the senator believe that she was interested only in his views with respect to the stabilization of currency or some such topic far removed from the point they had mentioned. just before he left, however, senator lattimer mentioned that there was going to be a big display of fireworks around the washington monument the following evening, and inquired if the countess would be interested in witnessing the celebration. "surely," said she. "why not let's watch them from the roof here? we ought to able to get an excellent view." "i've got a better idea than that," was the senatorial reply. "we'll go down to the state, war, and navy building. the windows on the south side ought to be ideal for that purpose and there won't be any trouble about getting in. i'll see to that," he added, with just a touch of pomposity. so it happened that among the dozen or more persons who occupied choice seats in a room in the navy department that next night were the hon. arthur h. lattimer and the countess stefani. the next morning it was discovered that plans relating to certain recent naval improvements--radical changes which were to be incorporated in the battleship _pennsylvania_--were missing. the chief learned of the loss about nine-thirty, and by ten o'clock every available man was turned loose on the case, with instructions to pry into the past records and watch the future actions of the people who had been in the room on the previous evening. because he particularly requested it, owen williams, whose connection with the secret service was not a matter of general information, was detailed to learn what he could of the countess stefani. "i've run into her a couple of times recently," he told the chief, "and there's something not altogether on the level about the lady. i don't suppose we have time to cable abroad and trace the particular branch of the family to which she claims to belong, but i have a hunch that she is not working altogether in the interest of europe. a certain yellow-skinned person whom we both know has been seen coming out of brickley court on several occasions within the past month, and--well, the countess is worth watching." "trail her, then!" snapped the chief. "the department has asked for quick action in this case, for there are reasons which render it inadvisable for those plans to get out of the country." "right!" replied williams, settling his hat at a rather jaunty angle and picking up his gloves and stick. "i'll keep in close touch with you and report developments. if you want me within the next couple of hours i'll probably be somewhere around brickley court. the countess never rises until round noon." but that morning, as williams soon discovered, something appeared to have interfered with the routine of the fair sylvia. she had called the office about nine o'clock, made an inquiry about the new york trains, ordered a chair reserved on the eleven and a taxi for ten forty-five. all of which gave owen just enough time to phone the chief, tell him of the sudden change in his plans, and suggest that the countess's room be searched during her absence. "tell new york to have some one pick up stefani as soon as she arrives," williams concluded. "i'm going to renew my acquaintance with her en route, find out where she's staying, and frame an excuse for being at the same hotel. but i may not be able to accompany her there, so have some one trail her from the station. i'll make any necessary reports through the new york office." just after the train pulled out of baltimore the countess stefani saw a young and distinctly handsome man, whose face was vaguely familiar, rise from his seat at the far end of the car and come toward her. then, as he reached her chair he halted, surprised. "this is luck!" he exclaimed. "i never hoped to find you on the train, countess! going through to new york, of course?" as he spoke the man's name came back to her, together with the fact that he had been pointed out as one of the eligible young bachelors who apparently did but little and yet had plenty of money to do it with. "oh, mr. williams! you gave me a bit of a start at first. your face was in the shadow and i didn't recognize you. yes, i'm just running up for a little shopping. won't be gone for more than a day or two, for i must be back in time for the de maury dance on thursday evening. you are going, i suppose?" thankful for the opening, williams occupied the vacant chair next to hers, and before they reached havre de grace they were deep in a discussion of people and affairs in washington. it was not williams's intention, however, to allow the matter to stop there. delicately, but certainly, he led the conversation into deeper channels, exerting every ounce of his personality to convince the countess that this was a moment for which he had longed, an opportunity to chat uninterruptedly with "the most charming woman in washington." "this is certainly the shortest five hours i've ever spent," he assured his companion as the porter announced their arrival at manhattan transfer. "can't i see something more of you while we are in new york? i'm not certain when i'll get back to washington and this glimpse has been far too short. are you going to stop with friends?" "no--at the vanderbilt. suppose you call up to-morrow morning and i'll see what i can do." "why not a theater party this evening?" "i'm sorry, but i have an engagement." "right--to-morrow morning, then," and the operative said good-by with a clear conscience, having noted that one of the men from the new york office was already on the job. later in the evening he was informed that the countess had gone directly to her hotel, had dressed for dinner, and then, after waiting in the lobby for nearly an hour, had eaten a solitary meal and had gone back to her room, leaving word at the desk that she was to be notified immediately if anyone called. but no one had. the next morning, instead of phoning, williams dropped around to the vanderbilt and had a short session with the house detective, who had already been notified that the countess stefani was being watched by secret service operatives. the house man, however, verified the report of the operative who had picked up the countess at the station--she had received no callers and had seen no one save the maid. "any phone messages?" "not one." "any mail?" "just a newspaper, evidently one that a friend had mailed from washington. the address was in a feminine hand and--" "tell the maid that i want the wrapper of that paper if it's in the countess's room," interrupted williams. "i don't want the place searched for it, but if it happens to be in the wastebasket be sure i get it." a moment later he was calling the countess stefani, presumably from the office of a friend of his in wall street. "i'm afraid i can't see you to-day," and sylvia's voice appeared to register infinite regret. "i wasn't able to complete a little business deal i had on last night--succumbed to temptation and went to the theater, so i'll have to pay for it to-day." (here williams suppressed a chuckle, both at the manner in which the lady handled the truth and at the fact that she was palpably ignorant that she had been shadowed.) "i'm returning to washington on the congressional, but i'll be sure to see you at the de maurys', won't i? please come down--for my sake!" "i'll do it," was owen's reply, "and i can assure you that my return to washington will be entirely because i feel that i must see you again. au revoir, until thursday night." "on the congressional limited, eh?" he muttered as he stepped out of the booth. "maybe it's a stall, but i'll make the train just the same. evidently one of the lady's plans has gone amiss." "here's the wrapper you wanted," said the house detective, producing a large torn envelope, slit lengthwise and still showing by its rounded contour that it had been used to inclose a rolled newspaper. "thanks," replied williams, as he glanced at the address. "i thought so." "thought what?" "come over here a minute," and he steered the detective to the desk, where he asked to be shown the register for the preceding day. then, pointing to the name "countess sylvia stefani" on the hotel sheet and to the same name on the wrapper, he asked, "note everything?" "the handwriting is the same!" "precisely. the countess mailed this paper herself at this hotel before she left washington. and, if i'm not very much mistaken, she'll mail another one to herself in washington, before she leaves new york." "you want it intercepted?" "i do not! if sylvia is willing to trust the post-office department with her secret, i certainly am. but i intend to be on hand when that paper arrives." sure enough, just before leaving for the station that afternoon, williams found out from his ally at the vanderbilt that the countess had slipped a folded and addressed newspaper into the mail box in the lobby. she had then paid her bill and entered a taxi, giving the chauffeur instructions to drive slowly through central park. sibert, the operative who was trailing her, reported that several times she appeared to be on the point of stopping, but had ordered the taxi driver to go on--evidently being suspicious that she was followed and not wishing to take any chances. of this, though, williams knew nothing--for a glance into one of the cars on the congressional limited had been sufficient to assure him that his prey was aboard. he spent the rest of the trip in the smoker, so that he might not run into her. in washington, however, a surprise awaited him. instead of returning at once to brickley court, the countess checked her bag at the station and hired a car by the hour, instructing the driver to take her to the chevy chase club. williams, of course, followed in another car, but had the ill fortune to lose the first taxi in the crush of machines which is always to be noted on dance nights at the club, and it was well on toward morning before he could locate the chauffeur he wanted to reach. according to that individual, the lady had not gone into the club, at all, but, changing her mind, had driven on out into the country, returning to washington at midnight. "did she meet anyone?" demanded williams. "not a soul, sir. said she just wanted to drive through the country and that she had to be at the senate office building at twelve o'clock." "the senate office building?" echoed the operative. "at midnight? did you drop her there?" "i did, sir. she told me to wait and she was out again in five minutes, using the little door in the basement--the one that's seldom locked. i thought she was the wife of one of the senators. then i drove her to union station to get her bag, and then to brickley court, where she paid me and got out." the moment the chauffeur had mentioned the senate office building a mental photograph of senator lattimer had sprung to williams's mind, for the affair between the countess and the iowa statesman was public property. telling the chauffeur to wait in the outer room, the operative called the lattimer home and insisted on speaking to the senator. "yes, it's a matter of vital importance!" he snapped. then, a few moments later, when a gruff but sleepy voice inquired what he wanted: "this is williams of the secret service speaking, senator. have you any documents of importance--international importance--in your office at the present moment?" "no, nothing of particular value. wait a minute! a copy of a certain report to the committee on foreign relations arrived late yesterday and i remember seeing it on my desk as i left. why? what's the matter?" "nothing--except that i don't think that report is there now," replied williams. "can you get to your office in ten minutes?" "i'll be there!" but a thorough search by the two of them failed to reveal any trace of the document. it had gone--vanished--in spite of the fact that the door was locked as usual. "senator," announced the government agent, "a certain woman you know took that paper. she got in here with a false key, lifted the report and was out again in less than five minutes. the theft occurred shortly after midnight and--" "if you know so much about it, why don't you arrest her?" "i shall--before the hour is up. only i thought you might like to know in advance how your friend the countess stefani worked. she was also responsible for the theft of the plans of the battleship _pennsylvania_, you know." and williams was out of the room before the look of amazement had faded from the senator's face. some thirty minutes later the countess sylvia was awakened by the sound of continued rapping on her door. in answer to her query, "who's there?" a man's voice replied, "open this door, or i'll break it in!" williams, however, knew that his threat was an idle one, for the doors at brickley court were built of solid oak that defied anything short of a battering ram. which was the reason that he had to wait a full five minutes, during which time he distinctly heard the sound of paper rattling and then the rasp of a match as it was struck. finally the countess, attired in a bewitching negligée, threw open the door. "ah!" she exclaimed. "so it is you, mr. williams! what do you--" "you know what i want," growled owen. "that paper you stole from lattimer's office to-night. also the plans you lifted from the navy department. the ones you mailed in new york yesterday afternoon and which were waiting for you here!" "find them!" was the woman's mocking challenge as williams's eyes roved over the room and finally rested on a pile of crumbled ashes beside an alcohol lamp on the table. a moment's examination told him that a blue print had been burned, but it was impossible to tell what it had been, and there was no trace of any other paper in the ashes. "search her!" he called to a woman in the corridor. "i'm going to rifle the mail-box downstairs. she can't get away with the same trick three times!" and there, in an innocent-looking envelope addressed to a certain personage whose name stood high on the diplomatic list, williams discovered the report for which a woman risked her liberty and gambled six months of her life! * * * * * "but the plans?" i asked as quinn finished. "evidently that was what she had burned. she'd taken care to crumple the ashes so that it was an impossibility to get a shred of direct evidence, not that it would have made any difference if she hadn't. the government never prosecutes matters of this kind, except in time of war. they merely warn the culprit to leave the country and never return--which is the reason that, while you'll find a number of very interesting foreigners in washington at the present moment, the countess sylvia stefani is not among them. neither is the personage to whom her letter was addressed. he was 'recalled' a few weeks later." xxi a million-dollar quarter "what's in the phial?" i inquired one evening, as bill quinn, formerly of the united states secret service, picked up a small brown bottle from the table in his den and slipped it into his pocket. "saccharine," retorted quinn, laconically. "had to come to it in order to offset the sugar shortage. no telling how long it will continue, and, meanwhile, we're conserving what we have on hand. so i carry my 'lump sugar' in my vest pocket, and i'll keep on doing it until conditions improve. they say the trouble lies at the importing end. can't secure enough sugar at the place where the ships are or enough ships at the place where the sugar is. "this isn't the first time that sugar has caused trouble, either. see that twenty-five-cent piece up there on the wall? apparently it's an ordinary everyday quarter. but it cost the government well over a million dollars, money which should have been paid in as import duty on tons upon tons of sugar. "yes, back of that quarter lies a case which is absolutely unique in the annals of governmental detective work--the biggest and most far-reaching smuggling plot ever discovered and the one which took the longest time to solve. "nine years seems like a mighty long time to work on a single assignment, but when you consider that the treasury collected more than two million dollars as a direct result of one man's labor during that time, you'll see that it was worth while." * * * * * the whole thing really started when dick carr went to work as a sugar sampler [continued quinn, his eyes fixed meditatively upon the quarter on the wall]. some one had tipped the department off to the fact that phony sampling of some sort was being indulged in and dick managed to get a place as assistant on one of the docks where the big sugar ships unloaded. as you probably know, there's a big difference in the duty on the different grades of raw sugar; a difference based upon the tests made by expert chemists as soon as the cargo is landed. sugar which is only ninety-two per cent pure, for example, comes in half-a-cent a pound cheaper than that which is ninety-six per cent pure, and the sampling is accomplished by inserting a thin glass tube through the wide meshes of the bag or basket which contains the sugar. it didn't take carr very long to find out that the majority of the samplers were slipping their tubes into the bags at an angle, instead of shoving them straight in, and that a number of them made a practice of moistening the outside of the container before they made their tests. the idea, of course, was that the sugar which had absorbed moisture, either during the voyage or after reaching the dock--would not "assay" as pure as would the dry material in the center of the package. a few experiments, conducted under the cover of night, showed a difference of four to six per cent in the grade of the samples taken from the inside of the bag and that taken from a point close to the surface, particularly if even a small amount of water had been judiciously applied. the difference, when translated into terms of a half-a-cent a pound import duty, didn't take long to run up into hundreds of thousands of dollars, and carr's report, made after several months' investigating, cost a number of sugar samplers their jobs and brought the wrath of the government down upon the companies which had been responsible for the practice. after such an exposure as this, you might think that the sugar people would have been content to take their legitimate profit and to pay the duty levied by law. but carr had the idea that they would try to put into operation some other scheme for defrauding the treasury and during years that followed he kept in close touch with the importing situation and the personnel of the men employed on the docks. the active part he had played in the sugar-sampling exposure naturally prevented his active participation in any attempt to uncover the fraud from the inside, but it was the direct cause of his being summoned to washington when a discharged official of one of the sugar companies filed a charge that the government was losing five hundred thousand dollars a year by the illicit operations at a single plant. "frankly, i haven't the slightest idea of how it's being done," confessed the official in question. "but i am certain that some kind of a swindle is being perpetrated on a large scale. here's the proof!" with that he produced two documents--one the bill of lading of the steamer _murbar_, showing the amount of sugar on board when she cleared java, and the other the official receipt, signed by a representative of the sugar company, for her cargo when she reached new york. "as you will note," continued the informant, "the bill of lading clearly shows that the _murbar_ carried eleven million seven hundred thirty-four thousand six hundred eighty-seven pounds of raw sugar. yet, when weighed under the supervision of the customhouse officials a few weeks later, the cargo consisted of only eleven million thirty-two thousand and sixteen pounds--a 'shrinkage' of seven hundred two thousand six hundred seventy-one pounds, about six per cent of the material shipment." "and at the present import duty that would amount to about--" "in the neighborhood of twelve thousand dollars loss on this ship alone," stated the former sugar official. "allowing for the arrival of anywhere from fifty to a hundred ships a year, you can figure the annual deficit for yourself." carr whistled. he had rather prided himself upon uncovering the sampling frauds a few years previously, but this bade fair to be a far bigger case--one which would tax every atom of his ingenuity to uncover. "how long has this been going on?" inquired the acting secretary of the treasury. "i can't say," admitted the informant. "neither do i care to state how i came into possession of these documents. but, as you will find when you look into the matter, they are entirely authoritative and do not refer to an isolated case. the _murbar_ is the rule, not the exception. it's now up to you people to find out how the fraud was worked." "he's right, at that," was the comment from the acting secretary, when the former sugar official had departed. "the information is undoubtedly the result of a personal desire to 'get even'--for our friend recently lost his place with the company in question. however, that hasn't the slightest bearing upon the truth of his charges. carr, it's up to you to find out what there is in 'em!" "that's a man-sized order, mr. secretary," smiled dick, "especially as the work i did some time ago on the sampling frauds made me about as popular as the plague with the sugar people. if i ever poked my nose on the docks at night you'd be out the price of a big bunch of white roses the next day!" "which means that you don't care to handle the case?" "not so that you could notice it!" snapped carr. "i merely wanted you to realize the handicaps under which i'll be working, so that there won't be any demand for instant developments. this case is worth a million dollars if it's worth a cent. and, because it is so big, it will take a whole lot longer to round up the details than if we were working on a matter that concerned only a single individual. if you remember, it took joe gregory nearly six months to land phyllis dodge, and therefore--" "therefore it ought to take about sixty years to get to the bottom of this case, eh?" "hardly that long. but i would like an assurance that i can dig into this in my own way and that there won't be any 'hurry up!' message sent from this end every week or two." "that's fair enough," agreed the assistant secretary. "you know the ins and outs of the sugar game better than any man in the service. so hop to it and take your time. we'll content ourselves with sitting back and awaiting developments." armed with this assurance, carr went back to new york and began carefully and methodically to lay his plans for the biggest game ever hunted by a government detective--a ring protected by millions of dollars in capital and haunted by the fear that its operations might some day be discovered. in spite of the fact that it was necessary to work entirely in the dark, dick succeeded in securing the manifests and bills of lading of three other sugar ships which had recently been unloaded, together with copies of the receipts of their cargoes. every one of these indicated the same mysterious shrinkage en route, amounting to about six per cent of the entire shipment, and, as carr figured it, there were but two explanations which could cover the matter. either a certain percentage of the sugar had been removed from the hold and smuggled into the country before the ship reached new york, or there was a conspiracy of some kind which involved a number of the weighers on the docks. "the first supposition," argued carr, "is feasible but hardly within the bounds of probability. if the shortage had occurred in a shipment of gold or something else which combines high value with small volume, that's where i'd look for the leak. but when it comes to hundreds of thousands of pounds of sugar--that's something else. you can't carry that around in your pockets or even unload it without causing comment and employing so many assistants that the risk would be extremely great. "no, the answer must lie right here on the docks--just as it did in the sampling cases." so it was on the docks that he concentrated his efforts, working through the medium of a girl named louise wood, whom he planted as a file clerk and general assistant in the offices of the company which owned the _murbar_ and a number of other sugar ships. this, of course, wasn't accomplished in a day, nor yet in a month. as a matter of fact, it was february when carr was first assigned to the case and it was late in august when the wood girl went to work. but, as dick figured it, this single success was worth all the time and trouble spent in preparing for it. it would be hard, therefore, to give any adequate measure of his disappointment when the girl informed him that everything in her office appeared to be straight and aboveboard. "you know, dick," reported louise, after she had been at work for a couple of months, "i'm not the kind that can have the wool pulled over my eyes. if there was anything crooked going on, i'd spot it before they'd more than laid their first plans. but i've had the opportunity of going over the files and the records and it's all on the level." "then how are you to account for the discrepancies between the bills of lading and the final receipts?" queried carr, almost stunned by the girl's assurance. "that's what i don't know," she admitted. "it certainly looks queer, but of course it is possible that the men who ship the sugar deliberately falsify the records in order to get more money and that the company pays these statements as a sort of graft. that i can't say. it doesn't come under my department, as you know. neither is it criminal. what i do know is that the people on the dock have nothing to do with faking the figures." "sure you haven't slipped up anywhere and given them a suspicion as to your real work?" "absolutely certain. i've done my work and done it well. that's what i was employed for and that's what's given me access to the files. but, as for suspicion--there hasn't been a trace of it!" it was in vain that carr questioned and cross-questioned the girl. she was sure of herself and sure of her information, positive that no crooked work was being handled by the men who received the sugar when it was unloaded from the incoming ships. puzzled by the girl's insistence and stunned by the failure of the plan upon which he had banked so much, carr gave the matter up as a bad job--telling louise that she could stop her work whenever she wished, but finally agreeing to her suggestion that she continue to hold her place on the bare chance of uncovering a lead. "of course," concluded the girl, "you may be right, after all. they may have covered their tracks so thoroughly that i haven't been able to pick up the scent. i really don't believe that they have--but it's worth the gamble to me if it is to you." more than a month passed before the significance of this speech dawned upon dick, and then only when he chanced to be walking along fifth avenue one saturday afternoon and saw louise coming out of tiffany's with a small cubical package in her hand. "tiffany's--" he muttered. "i wonder--" then, entering the store, he sought out the manager and stated that he would like to find out what a lady, whom he described, had just purchased. the flash of his badge which accompanied this request turned the trick. "of course, it's entirely against our rules," explained the store official, "but we are always glad to do anything in our power to assist the government. just a moment. i'll call the clerk who waited on her." "the lady," he reported a few minutes later, "gave her name as miss louise wood and her address as--" "i know where she lives," snapped carr. "what did she buy?" "a diamond and platinum ring." "the price?" "eight hundred and fifty dollars." "thanks," said the operative and was out of the office before the manager could frame any additional inquiries. when the wood girl answered a rather imperative ring at the door of her apartment she was distinctly surprised at the identity of her caller, for she and carr had agreed that it would not be wise for them to meet except by appointment in some out-of-the-way place. "dick!" she exclaimed. "what brings you here? do you think it's safe?" "safe or not," replied the operative, entering and closing the door behind him. "i'm here and here i'm going to stay until i find out something. where did you get the money to pay for that ring you bought at tiffany's to-day?" "money? ring?" echoed the girl. "what are you talking about?" "you know well enough! now don't stall. come through! where'd you get it?" "an--an aunt died and left it to me," but the girl's pale face and halting speech belied her words. "try another one," sneered carr. "where did you get that eight hundred and fifty dollars?" "what business is it of yours? can't i spend my own money in my own way without being trailed and hounded all over the city?" "you can spend your own money--the money you earn by working and the money i pay you for keeping your eyes open on the dock as you please. but--" and here carr reached forward and grasped the girl's wrist, drawing her slowly toward him, so that her eyes looked straight into his, "when it comes to spending other money--money that you got for keeping your mouth shut and putting it over on me--that's another story." "i didn't, dick; i didn't!" "can you look me straight in the eyes and say that they haven't paid you for being blind? that they didn't suspect what you came to the dock for, and declared you in on the split? no! i didn't think you could!" with that he flung her on a couch and moved toward the door. just as his hand touched the knob he heard a voice behind him, half sob and half plea, cry, "dick!" reluctantly he turned. "dick, as there's a god in heaven i didn't mean to double cross you. but they were on to me from the first. they planted some stamps in my pocket during the first week i was there and then gave me my choice of bein' pulled for thieving or staying there at double pay. i didn't want to do it, but they had the goods on me and i had to. they said all i had to do was to tell you that nothing crooked was goin' on--and they'll pay me well for it." "while you were also drawing money from me, eh?" "sure i was, dick. i couldn't ask you to stop my pay. you'd have suspected. besides, as soon as you were done with me, they were, too." "that's where the eight hundred and fifty dollars came from?" "yes, and a lot more. oh, they pay well, all right!" for fully a minute there was silence in the little apartment, broken only by the sobs of the girl on the couch. finally carr broke the strain. "there's only one way for you to square yourself," he announced. "tell me everything you know--the truth and every word of it!" "that's just it, dick. i don't know anything--for sure. there's something goin' on. no doubt of that. but what it is i don't know. they keep it under cover in the scale house." "in the scale house?" "yes; they don't allow anyone in there without a permit. somebody uptown tips 'em off whenever a special agent is coming down, so they can fix things. but none of the staff knows, though nearly all of them are drawin' extra money for keeping their mouths shut." "who are the men who appear to be implicated?" "mahoney, the checker for the company, and derwent, the government weigher." "derwent!" "yes, he's in on it, too. i tell you, dick, the thing's bigger than you ever dreamed. it's like an octopus, with tentacles that are fastened on everyone connected with the place." "but no clue as to the location of the body of the beast?" "can't you guess? you know the number of their office uptown. but there's no use hoping to nab them. they're too well protected. i doubt if you can even get at the bottom of the affair on the dock." "i don't doubt it!" carr's chin had settled itself determinedly and his mouth was a thin red line. "i'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. go back to work as usual on monday. don't let on, by word or gesture, that anything has changed. just await developments. if you'll do that, i'll see that you're not implicated. more than that, i'll acknowledge you at the proper time as my agent--planted there to double cross the fraud gang. you'll have your money and your glory and your satisfaction of having done the right thing, even though you didn't intend to do it. are you on?" "i am, dick. i won't say a word. i promise!" "good! you'll probably see me before long. but don't recognize me. you'll be just one of the girls and it'll probably be necessary to include you in the round-up. i'll fix that later. good-by," and with that he was off. not expecting that carr would be able to complete his plans for at least a week, louise was startled when the operative arrived at the dock on the following monday morning. he had spent the previous day in washington, arranging details, and his appearance at the company's office--while apparently casual--was part of the program mapped out in advance. what was more, carr had come to the dock from the station, so as to prevent the "inside man" from flashing a warning of his arrival. straight through the office he strode, his right hand swinging at his side, his left thrust nonchalantly in the pocket of his topcoat. before he had crossed halfway to the door of the scale room he was interrupted by a burly individual, who demanded his business. "i want to see mr. derwent or mr. mahoney," replied carr. "they're both engaged at present," was the answer. "wait here, and i'll tell them." "get out of my road!" growled the operative, pulling back the lapel of his coat sufficiently to afford a glimpse of his badge. "i'll see them where they are," and before the guardian of the scale house door had recovered from his astonishment carr was well across the portals. the first thing that caught his eye was the figure of a man bending over the weight beam of one of the big scales, while another man was making some adjustments on the other side of the apparatus. derwent, who was facing the door, was the first to see carr, but before he could warn his companion, the special agent was on top of them. "who are you? what business have you in here?" demanded the government weigher. "carr is my name," replied dick. "possibly you've heard of me. if so, you know my business. catching sugar crooks!" derwent's face went white for a moment and then flushed a deep red. mahoney, however, failed to alter his position. he remained bending over the weight beam, his finger nails scratching at something underneath. "straighten up there!" ordered carr. "you--mahoney--i mean! straighten up!" "i'll see you in hell first!" snapped the other. "you'll be there soon enough if you don't get up!" was carr's reply, as his left hand emerged from his coat pocket, bringing to light the blue-steel barrel of a forty-five. "get--" just at that moment, from a point somewhere near the door of the scale room, came a shrill, high-pitched cry--a woman's voice: "dick!" it called. "lookout! jump!" instantly, involuntarily, the operative leaped sidewise, and as he did so a huge bag of raw sugar crashed to the floor, striking directly on the spot where he had stood. "thanks, lou," called carr, without turning his head. "you saved me that time all right! now, gentlemen, before any more bags drop, suppose we adjourn uptown. we're less likely to be interrupted there," and he sounded a police whistle, which brought a dozen assistants on the run. "search mahoney," he directed. "i don't think derwent has anything on him. what's that mahoney has in his hand?" "nothin' but a quarter, sir, an' what looks like an old wad o' chewin' gum." puzzled, carr examined the coin. then the explanation of the whole affair flashed upon him as he investigated the weight-beam and found fragments of gum adhering to the lower part, near the free end. "so that was the trick, eh?" he inquired. "quite a delicate bit of mechanism, this scale--in spite of the fact that it was designed to weigh tons of material. even a quarter, gummed on to the end of the beam, would throw the whole thing out enough to make it well worth while. i think this coin and the wad of gum will make very interesting evidence--exhibits a and b--at the trial, after we've rounded up the rest of you." * * * * * "and that," concluded quinn, "is the story which lies behind that twenty-five-cent piece--probably the most valuable bit of money, judged from the standpoint of what it has accomplished, in the world." "derwent and mahoney?" i asked. "what happened to them? and did carr succeed in landing the men higher up?" "unfortunately," and quinn smiled rather ruefully, "there is such a thing as the power of money. the government brought suit against the sugar companies implicated in the fraud and commenced criminal proceedings against the men directly responsible for the manipulation of the scales. (it developed that they had another equally lucrative method of using a piece of thin corset steel to alter the weights.) but the case was quashed upon the receipt of a check for more than two million dollars, covering back duties uncollected, so the personal indictments were allowed to lapse. it remains, however, the only investigation i ever heard of in which success was so signal and the amount involved so large. "todd, of the department of justice, handled a big affair not long afterward, but, while some of the details were even more unusual and exciting, the theft was only a paltry two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." "which case was that?" "the looting of the central trust company," replied the former operative, rising and stretching himself. "get along with you. it's time for me to lock up." xxii "the looting of the c. t. c." there was a wintry quality in the night itself that made a comfortable chair and an open fire distinctly worth the payment of a luxury tax. add to this the fact that the chairs in the library den of william j. quinn--formerly "bill quinn, united states secret service"--were roomy and inviting, while the fire fairly crackled with good cheer, and you'll know why the conversation, after a particularly good dinner on the evening in question, was punctuated by pauses and liberally interlarded with silences. finally, feeling that it was really necessary that i say something, i remarked upon the fierceness of the wind and the biting, stinging sleet which accompanied a typical january storm. "makes one long for florida," i added. "yes," agreed quinn, "or even some point farther south. on a night like this you can hardly blame a man for heading for honduras, even if he did carry away a quarter of a million of the bank's deposits with him." "huh? who's been looting the local treasury?" i asked, thinking that i was on the point of getting some advance information. "no one that i know of," came from the depths of quinn's big armchair. "i was just thinking of florida and warm weather, and that naturally led to honduras, which, in turn, recalled rockwell to my mind. ever hear of rockwell?" "don't think i ever did. what was the connection between him and the quarter-million you mentioned?" "quite a bit. rather intimate, as you might say. but not quite as much as he had planned. however, if it hadn't been for todd--" "todd?" "yes--ernest e. todd, of the department of justice. 'extra ernest,' they used to call him, because he'd never give up a job until he brought it in, neatly wrapped and ready for filing. more than one man has had cause to believe that todd's parents chose the right name for him. he may not have been much to look at--but he sure was earnest." * * * * * take the rockwell case, for example [quinn went on, after a preliminary puff or two to see that his pipe was drawing well]. no one had the slightest idea that the central trust company wasn't in the best of shape. its books always balanced to a penny. there was never anything to cause the examiner to hesitate, and its officials were models of propriety. particularly rockwell, the cashier. not only was he a pillar of the church, but he appeared to put his religious principles into practice on the other six days of the week as well. he wasn't married, but that only boosted his stock in the eyes of the community, many of which had daughters of an age when wedding bells sound very tuneful and orange blossoms are the sweetest flowers that grow. when they came to look into the matter later on, nobody seemed to know much about mr. rockwell's antecedents. he'd landed a minor position in the bank some fifteen years before and had gradually lifted himself to the cashiership. seemed to have an absolute genius for detail and the handling of financial matters. so it was that when todd went back home on a vacation and happened to launch some of his ideas on criminology--ideas founded on an intensive study of lombroso and other experts--he quickly got himself into deep water. during the course of a dinner at one of the hotels, "e. e." commenced to expound certain theories relating to crime and the physical appearance of the criminal. "do you know," he inquired, "that it's the simplest thing in the world to tell whether a man--or even a boy, for that matter--has criminal tendencies? there are certain unmistakable physical details that point unerringly to what the world might call 'laxity of conscience,' but which is nothing less than a predisposition to evil, a tendency to crime. the lobes of the ears, the height and shape of the forehead, the length of the little finger, the contour of the hand--all these are of immense value in determining whether a man will go straight or crooked. employers are using them more and more every day. the old-fashioned phrenologist, with his half-formed theories and wild guesses, has been displaced by the modern student of character, who relies upon certain rules which vary so little as to be practically immutable." "do you mean to say," asked one of the men at the table, "that you can tell that a man is a criminal simply by looking at him?" "if that's the case," cut in another, "why don't you lock 'em all up?" "but it isn't the case," was todd's reply. "the physical characteristics to which i refer only mean that a man is likely to develop along the wrong lines. they are like the stars which, as shakespeare remarked, 'incline, but do not compel.' if you remember, he added, 'the fault, dear brutus, lies in ourselves.' therefore, if a detective of the modern school is working on a case and he comes across a man who bears one or more of these very certain brands of cain, he watches that man very carefully--at least until he is convinced that he is innocent. you can't arrest a man simply because he looks like a crook, but it is amazing how often the guideposts point in the right direction." "anyone present that you suspect of forgery or beating his wife?" came in a bantering voice from the other end of the table. "if you're in earnest," answered the government agent, "lay your hands on the table." and everyone present, including rockwell, cashier of the central trust company, placed his hands, palm upward, on the cloth--though there was a distinct hesitation in several quarters. slowly, deliberately, todd looked around the circle of hands before him. then, with quite as much precision, he scanned the faces and particularly the ears of his associates. only once did his gaze hesitate longer than usual, and then not for a sufficient length of time to make it apparent. "no," he finally said. "i'd give every one of you a clean bill of health. apparently you're all right. but," and he laughed, "remember, i said 'apparently.' so don't blame me if there's a murder committed before morning and one or more of you is arrested for it!" that was all there was to the matter until todd, accompanied by two of his older friends, left the grill and started to walk home. "that was an interesting theory of yours," commented one of the men, "but wasn't it only a theory? is there any real foundation of fact?" "you mean my statement that you can tell by the shape of a man's head and hands whether he has a predisposition to crime?" "yes." "it's far from a theory, inasmuch as it has the support of hundreds of cases which are on record. besides, i had a purpose in springing it when i did. in fact, it partook of the nature of an experiment." "you mean you suspected some one present--" "not suspected, but merely wondered if he would submit to the test. i knew that one of the men at the table would call for it. some one in a crowd always does--and i had already noted a startling peculiarity about the forehead, nose, and ears of a certain dinner companion. i merely wanted to find out if he had the nerve to withstand my inspection of his hands. i must say that he did, without flinching." "but who was the man?" "i barely caught his name," replied todd, "and this conversation must be in strict confidence. after all, criminologists do not maintain that every man who looks like a crook is one. they simply state and prove that ninety-five per cent of the deliberate criminals, men who plan their wrong well in advance, bear these marks. and the man who sat across the table from me to-night has them, to an amazing degree." "across the table from you? why that was rockwell, cashier of the central trust!" "precisely," stated todd, "and the only reason that i am making this admission is because i happen to know that both of you bank there." "but," protested one of the other men, "rockwell has been with them for years. he's worked himself up from the very bottom and had hundreds of chances to make away with money if he wanted to. he's as straight as a die." "very possibly he is," todd agreed. "that's the reason that i warn you that what i said was in strict confidence. neither one of you is to say a word that would cast suspicion on rockwell. it would be fatal to his career. on the other hand, i wanted to give you the benefit of my judgment, which, if you remember, you requested." but it didn't take a character analyst to see that the department of justice man had put his foot in it, so far as his friends were concerned. they were convinced of the cashier's honesty and no theories founded on purely physical attributes could swerve them. they kept the conversation to themselves, but todd left town feeling that he had lost the confidence of two of his former friends. it was about a month later that he ran into weldon, the federal bank examiner for that section of the country, and managed to make a few discreet inquiries about rockwell and the central trust company without, however, obtaining even a nibble. "everything's flourishing," was the verdict. "accounts straight as a string and they appear to be doing an excellent business. fairly heavy on notes, it's true, but they're all well indorsed. why'd you ask? any reason to suspect anyone?" "not the least," lied todd. "it's my home town, you know, and i know a lot of people who bank at the c. t. c. just like to keep in touch with how things are going. by the way, when do you plan to make your next inspection?" "think i'll probably be in there next wednesday. want me to say 'hello' to anybody?" "no, i'm not popular in certain quarters," todd laughed. "they say i have too many theories--go off half cocked and all that sort of thing." nevertheless the department of justice operative arranged matters so that he reached his home city on tuesday of the following week, discovering, by judicious inquiries, that the visit of the examiner had not been forecast. in fact, he wasn't expected for a month or more. but that's the way it is best to work. if bank officials know when to look out for an examiner, they can often fix things on their books which would not bear immediate inspection. weldon arrived on schedule early the following morning, and commenced his examination of the accounts of the first national, as was his habit. as soon as todd knew that he was in town he took up his position outside the offices of the central trust, selecting a vantage point which would give him a clear view of both entrances of the bank. "possibly," he argued to himself, "i am a damn fool. but just the same, i have a mighty well-defined hunch that mr. rockwell isn't on the level, and i ought to find out pretty soon." then events began to move even quicker than he had hoped. the first thing he noted was that jafferay, one of the bookkeepers of the c. t. c., slipped out of a side door of the bank and dropped a parcel into the mail box which stood beside the entrance. then, a few minutes later, a messenger came out and made his way up the street to the state national, where--as todd, who was on his heels--had little trouble in discovering--he cashed a cashier's check for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, returning to the central trust company with the money in his valise. "of course," todd reasoned, "rockwell may be ignorant of the fact that weldon doesn't usually get around to the state national until he has inspected all the other banks. hence the check will have already gone to the clearing house and will appear on the books merely as an item of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars due, rather than as a check from the central trust. yes, he may be ignorant of the fact--but it does look funny. wonder what that bookkeeper mailed?" working along the last line of reasoning, the government operative stopped at the post office long enough to introduce himself to the postmaster, present his credentials, and inquire if the mail from the box outside the central trust company had yet been collected. learning that it had, he asked permission to inspect it. "you can look it over if you wish," stated the postmaster, "but, of course, i have no authority to allow you to open any of it. even the postmaster-general himself couldn't do that." "certainly," agreed todd. "i merely want to see the address on a certain parcel and i'll make affidavit, if you wish, that i have reason to suppose that the mails are being used for illegal purposes." "that won't be necessary. we'll step down to the parcel room and soon find out what you want." some five minutes later todd learned that the parcel which he recognized--a long roll covered with wrapping paper, so that it was impossible to gain even an idea of what it contained--was addressed to jafferay, the bookkeeper, at his home address. "thanks! now if you can give me some idea of when this'll be delivered i won't bother you any more. about five o'clock this afternoon? fine!" and the man from washington was out of the post office before anyone could inquire further concerning his mission. a telephone call disclosed the fact that weldon was then making his examination of the central trust company books and could not be disturbed, but todd managed to get him later in the afternoon and made an appointment for dinner, on the plea of official business which he wished to discuss. that afternoon he paid a visit to the house of a certain mr. jafferay and spent an hour in a vain attempt to locate the bank examiner. promptly at six o'clock that official walked into todd's room at the hotel, to find the operative pacing restlessly up and down, visibly excited and clutching what appeared to be a roll of paper. "what's the matter?" asked weldon. "i'm on time. didn't keep you waiting a minute?" "no!" snapped todd, "but where have you been for the last hour? been trying to reach you all over town." "great scott! man, even a human adding machine has a right to take a little rest now and then. if you must know, i've been getting a shave and a haircut. anything criminal in that?" "can't say that there is," and todd relaxed enough to smile at his vehemence. "but there is in this," unrolling the parcel that he still held and presenting several large sheets of ruled paper for the examiner's attention. "recognise them?" "they appear to be loose leaves from the ledgers at the central trust company." "precisely. were they there when you went over the books this morning?" "i don't recall them, but it's possible they may have been." "no--they weren't. one of the bookkeepers mailed them to himself, at his home address, while you were still at the first national. if i hadn't visited his house this afternoon, in the guise of a book agent, and taken a long chance by lifting this roll of paper, he'd have slipped them back in place in the morning and nobody'd been any the wiser." "then you mean that the bookkeeper is responsible for falsifying the accounts?" "only partially. was the cash o. k. at the central trust?" "perfectly." "do you recall any record of a check for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars upon the state national drawn and cashed this morning?" "no, there was no such check." "yes, there was. i was present when the messenger cashed it and he took the money back to the c. t. c. they knew you wouldn't get around to the state before morning, and by that time the check would have gone to the clearing house, giving them plenty of time to make the cash balance to a penny." "whom do you suspect of manipulating the funds?" "the man who signed the check--rockwell, the cashier! that's why i was trying to get hold of you. i haven't the authority to demand admittance to the central trust vaults, but you have. then, if matters are as i figure them, i'll take charge of the case as an agent of the department of justice." "come on!" was weldon's response. "we'll get up there right away, no use losing time over it!" at the bank, however, they were told that the combination to the vault was known to only three persons--the president of the bank, rockwell, and the assistant cashier. the president, it developed, was out of town. rockwell's house failed to answer the phone, and it was a good half hour before the assistant cashier put in an appearance. when, in compliance with weldon's orders, he swung back the heavy doors which guarded the vault where the currency was stored, he swung around, amazed. "it's empty!" he whispered. "not a thing there save the bags of coin. why, i put some two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in paper money in there myself this afternoon!" "who was here at the time?" demanded todd. "only mr. rockwell. i remember distinctly that he said he would have to work a little longer, but that there wouldn't be any necessity for my staying. so i put the money in there, locked the door, and went on home." "do you know where rockwell is now?" "at his house, i suppose. he lives at--" "i know where he lives," snapped todd. "i also know that he isn't there. i've had the place watched since five o'clock this afternoon--but rockwell hasn't shown up. like the money--i think we can say 'with the money'--he's gone, disappeared, vanished." "then," said weldon, "it is up to you to find him. my part of the job ceased the moment the shortage was disclosed." "i know that and if you'll attend to making a report on the matter, order the arrest of jafferay, and spread the report of rockwell's embezzlement through police circles, i'll get busy on my own hook. good-by." and an instant later todd was hailing a taxi and ordering the chauffeur to break all the speed laws in reaching the house where rockwell boarded. examination of the cashier's room and an extended talk with the landlady failed, however, to disclose anything which might be termed a clue. the missing official had visited the house shortly after noon, but had not come back since the bank closed. he had not taken a valise or suit case with him, declared the mistress of the house, but he had seemed "just a leetle bit upset." quickly, but efficiently, todd examined the room--even inspecting the bits of paper in the wastebasket and pawing over the books which lined the mantel. three of the former he slipped into his pocket and then, turning, inquired: "was mr. rockwell fond of cold weather?" "no, indeed," was the reply. "he hated winter. said he never was comfortable from november until may. he always--" but the "queer gentleman," as the landlady afterward referred to him, was out of the house before she could detail her pet story of the cashier's fondness for heat, no matter at what cost. no one at the station had seen rockwell board a train, but inquiry at the taxicab offices revealed the fact that a man, with his overcoat collar turned up until it almost met his hat brim, had taken a cab for a near-by town, where it would be easy for him to make connections either north or south. stopping only to wire washington the bare outline of the case, with the suggestion that the canadian border be watched, "though it is almost certain that rockwell is headed south," todd picked up the trail at the railroad ticket office, some ten miles distant, and found that a man answering to the description of his prey had bought passage as far as st. louis. but, despite telegraphic instructions, the saint louis police were unable to apprehend anyone who looked like rockwell and the government operative kept right on down the river, stopping at memphis to file a message to the authorities in new orleans. it was precisely a week after the looting of the central trust company that todd stood on the docks in new orleans, watching the arrival of the passengers and baggage destined to go aboard the boat for honduras. singly and in groups they arrived until, when the "all ashore" signal sounded, the operative began to wonder if he were really on the right trail. then, at the last minute, a cab drove up and a woman, apparently suffering from rheumatism, made her way toward the boat. scenting a tip, two stewards sprang to assist her, but todd beat them to it. "pardon me, madam," he said, "may i not--drat that fly!" and with that he made a pass at something in front of his face and accidentally brushed aside the veil which hid the woman's face. he had barely time to realize that, as he had suspected, it was rockwell, disguised, before the "woman" had slipped out of the light wrap which she had been wearing and was giving him what he later admitted was the "scrap of his life." in fact, for several moments he not only had to fight rockwell, but several bystanders as well--for they had only witnessed what they supposed was a totally uncalled for attack upon a woman. in the mixup that followed rockwell managed to slip away and, before todd had a chance to recover, was halfway across the street, headed for the entrance to a collection of shanties which provided an excellent hiding place. tearing himself loose, todd whipped out his revolver and fired at the figure just visible in the gathering dusk, scoring a clean shot just above the ankle--a flesh wound, that ripped the leg muscles without breaking a bone. with a groan of despair rockwell toppled over, clawing wildly in an attempt to reach his revolver. but todd was on top of him before the cashier could swing the gun into action, and a pair of handcuffs finished the career of the man who had planned to loot the c. t. c. of a quarter million in cold cash. "the next time you try a trick like that," todd advised him, on the train that night, "be careful what you leave behind in your room. the two torn letterheads of the canadian pacific nearly misled me, but the other one referring to the honduran line, plus the book on honduras and the fact that your landlady stated that you hated cold weather, gave you dead away. of course, even without that, it was a toss-up between canada and central america. those are the only two places where an embezzler is comparatively safe these days. i hope, for the sake of your comfort, they give you plenty of blankets in joliet." * * * * * quinn paused a moment to repack his pipe, and then, "so far as i know, he's still handling the prison finances," he added. "yes--they found at the trial that he had had a clean record up to the moment he slipped, but the criminal tendencies were there and he wasn't able to resist temptation. he had speculated with the bank funds, covered his shortages by removing the pages from the ledger and kiting checks through the state national, and then determined to risk everything in one grand clean-up. "he might have gotten away with it, too, if todd hadn't spotted the peculiarities which indicated moral weakness. however, you can't always tell. no one who knew mrs. armitage would have dreamed that she was--what she was." "well," i inquired, "what was she?" "that's what puzzled washington and the state department for several months," replied quinn. "it's too long a story to spin to-night. that's her picture up there, if you care to study her features." and i went home wondering what were the crimes of which such a beautiful woman could have been guilty. xxiii the case of mrs. armitage to look at him no one would have thought that bill quinn had a trace of sentiment in his make-up. apparently he was just the grizzled old veteran of a hundred battles with crime, the last of which--a raid on a counterfeiter's den in long island--had laid him up with a game leg and a soft berth in the treasury department, where, for years he had been an integral part of the united states secret service. but in the place of honor in quinn's library-den there hung the photograph of a stunningly handsome woman, her sable coat thrown back just enough to afford a glimpse of a throat of which juno might have been proud, while in her eyes there sparkled a light which seemed to hint at much but reveal little. it was very evident that she belonged to a world entirely apart from that of quinn, yet the very fact that her photograph adorned the walls of his den proved that she had been implicated in some case which had necessitated secret service investigation--for the den was the shrine of relics relating to cases in which quinn's friends had figured. finally, one evening i gathered courage to inquire about her. "armitage was her name," quinn replied. "lelia armitage. at least that was the name she was known by in washington, and even the investigations which followed melville taylor's exposure of her foreign connections failed to reveal that she had been known by any other, save her maiden name of lawrence." "where is she now?" i asked. "you'll have to ask me something easier," and quinn smiled, a trifle wistfully, i thought. "possibly in london, perhaps in paris, maybe in rio or the far east. but wherever she is, the center of attention is not very far away from her big violet-black eyes. also the police of the country where she is residing probably wish that they had never been burdened with her." "you mean--" "that she was a crook? not as the word is usually understood. but more than one string of valuable pearls or diamonds has disappeared when milady armitage was in the neighborhood--though they were never able to prove that she had lifted a thing. no, her principal escapade in this country brought her into contact with the secret service, rather than the police officials--which is probably the reason she was nailed with the goods. you remember the incident of the 'leak' in the peace note, when certain wall street interests cleaned up millions of dollars?" "perfectly. was she to blame for that?" "they never settled who was to blame for it, but mrs. armitage was dealing through a young and decidedly attractive washington broker at the time and her account mysteriously multiplied itself half a dozen times. "then there was the affair of the carruthers code, the one which ultimately led to her exposure at the hands of taylor and madelaine james." * * * * * the carruthers code [quinn went on] was admittedly the cleverest and yet the simplest system of cipher communication ever devised on this side of the atlantic, with the possible exception of the one mentioned in jules verne's "giant raft"--the one that dr. heinrich albert used with such success. come to think of it, verne wasn't an american, was he? he ought to have been, though. he invented like one. in some ways the carruthers system was even more efficient than the verne cipher. you could use it with less difficulty, for one thing, and the key was susceptible of an almost infinite number of variations. its only weakness lay in the fact that the secret had to be written down--and it was in connection with the slip of paper which contained this that mrs. armitage came into prominence. for some two years lelia armitage had maintained a large and expensive establishment on massachusetts avenue, not far from sheridan circle. those who claimed to know stated that there had been a mr. armitage, but that he had died, leaving his widow enough to make her luxuriously comfortable for the remainder of her life. in spite of the incidents of the jeweled necklaces, no one took the trouble to inquire into mrs. armitage's past until the leak in connection with the peace note and the subsequent investigation of paul connor's brokerage house led to the discovery that her name was among those who had benefited most largely by the advance information. it was at that time that melville taylor was detailed to dig back into her history and see what he could discover. as was only natural, he went at once to madelaine james, who had been of assistance to the service in more than one washington case which demanded feminine finesse, plus an intimate knowledge of social life in the national capital. "madelaine," he inquired, "what do you know of a certain mrs. lelia armitage?" "nothing particularly--except that one sees her everywhere. apparently has plenty of money. supposed to have gotten it from her husband, who has been dead for some time. dresses daringly but expensively, and--while there are at least a score of men, ranging all the way from lieutenants in the army to captains of industry, who would like to marry her--she has successfully evaded scandal and almost gotten away from gossip." "where'd she come from?" "london, i believe, by way of new york. maiden name was lawrence and the late but not very lamented mr. armitage was reputed to have made his money in south africa." "all of which," commented taylor, "is rather vague--particularly for purposes of a detailed report." "report? in what connection?" "her name appears on the list of connor's clients as one of the ones who cleaned up on the 'leak.' sold short and made a barrel of money when stocks came down. the question is, where did she get the tip?" "possibly from paul connor himself." "possibly--but i wish you'd cultivate her acquaintance and see if you can pick up anything that would put us on the right track." but some six weeks later when taylor was called upon to make a report of his investigations he had to admit that the sheet was a blank. "chief," he said, "either the armitage woman is perfectly innocent or else she's infernally clever. i've pumped everyone dry about her, and a certain friend of mine, whom you know, has made a point of getting next to the lady herself. she's dined there a couple of times and has talked to her at a dozen teas and receptions. but without success. mrs. armitage has been very frank and open about what she calls her 'good fortune' on the stock market. says she followed her intuition and sold short when everyone else was buying. what's more, she says it with such a look of frank honesty that, according to madelaine, you almost have to believe her." "has miss james been able to discover anything of the lady's past history?" "nothing more than we already know--born in england--husband made a fortune in south africa--died and left it to her. have you tried tracing her from the other side?" "yes, but they merely disclaim all knowledge of her. don't even recognize the description. that may mean anything. well," and chief sighed rather disconsolately, for the leak puzzle had been a knotty one from the start, "i guess we'd better drop her. too many other things going on to worry about a woman whose only offense seems to be an intuitive knowledge of the way wall street's going to jump." it was at that moment that mahoney, assistant to the chief, came in with the information that the secretary of state desired the presence of the head of the secret service in his office immediately. in answer to a snapped, "come along--this may be something that you can take care of right away!" taylor followed the chief to the state department, where they were soon closeted with one of the under secretaries. "you are familiar with the carruthers code?" inquired the assistant secretary. "i know the principle on which it operates," the chief replied, "but i can't say that i've ever come into contact with it." "so far as we know," went on the state department official, "it is the most efficient cipher system in the world--simple, easy to operate, almost impossible to decode without the key, and susceptible of being changed every day, or every hour if necessary, without impairing its value. however, in common with every other code, it has this weakness--once the key is located the entire system is practically valueless. "when did you discover the disappearance of the code secret?" asked taylor, examining his cigarette with an exaggerated display of interest. "how did you know it was lost?" demanded the under secretary. "i didn't--but the fact that your chief sent for mine and then you launch into a dissertation on the subject of the code itself is open to but one construction--some one has lifted the key to the cipher." "yes, some one has. at least, it was in this safe last night"--here a wave of his hand indicated a small and rather old-fashioned strong box in the corner--"and it wasn't there when i arrived this morning. i reported the matter to the secretary and he asked me to give you the details." "you are certain that the cipher was there last evening?" asked the chief. "not the cipher itself--at least not a code-book as the term is generally understood," explained the under secretary. "that's one of the beauties of the carruthers system. you don't have to lug a bulky book around with you all the time. a single slip of paper--a cigarette paper would answer excellently--will contain the data covering a man's individual code. the loss or theft of one of these would be inconvenient, but not fatal. the loss of the master key, which was in that safe, is irreparable. if it once gets out of the country it means that the decoding of our official messages is merely a question of time, no matter how often we switch the individual ciphers." "what was the size of the master key, as you call it?" "merely a slip of government bond, about six inches long by some two inches deep." "was it of such a nature that it could have been easily copied?" "yes, but anything other than a careful tracing or a photographic copy would be valueless. the position of the letters and figures mean as much as the marks themselves. whoever took it undoubtedly knows this and will endeavor to deliver the original--as a mark of good faith, if nothing else." "was this the only copy in existence?" "there are two others--one in the possession of the secretary, the other in the section which has charge of decoding messages. both of these are safe, as i ascertained as soon as i discovered that my slip was missing." a few more questions failed to bring out anything more about the mystery beyond the fact that the assistant secretary was certain that he had locked the safe the evening before and he knew that he had found it locked when he arrived that morning. "all of which," as taylor declared, "means but little. the safe is of the vintage of eighteen seventy, the old-fashioned kind where you can hear the tumblers drop clean across the room. look!" and he pointed to the japanned front of the safe where a circular mark, some two inches in diameter, was visible close to the dial. "yes, but what is it?" demanded the secretary. "the proof that you locked the safe last night," taylor responded. "whoever abstracted the cipher key opened the safe with the aid of some instrument that enabled them clearly to detect the fall of the tumblers. probably a stethoscope, such as physicians use for listening to a patient's heart. perfectly simple when you know how--particularly with an old model like this." finding that there was no further information available, taylor and the chief left the department, the chief to return to headquarters, taylor to endeavor to pick up the trail wherever he could. "it doesn't look like an inside job," was the parting comment of the head of the secret service. "anyone who had access to the safe would have made some excuse to discover the combination, rather than rely on listening to the click of the tumblers. better get after the night watchman and see if he can give you a line on any strangers who were around the building last night." but the night watchman when roused from his sound forenoon's sleep was certain that no one had entered the building on the previous evening save those who had business there. "everybody's got to use a pass now, you know," he stated. "i was on the job all night myself an' divvle a bit of anything out of the ordinary did i see. there was mr. mcnight and mr. lester and mr. greene on the job in the telegraph room, and the usual crowd of correspondents over in the press room, and a score of others who works there regular, an' mrs. prentice, an'--" "mrs. who?" interrupted taylor. "mrs. prentice, wife of th' third assistant secretary. she comes down often when her husband is working late, but last night he must have gone home just before she got there, for she came back a few minutes later and said that the office was dark." whatever taylor's thoughts were at the moment he kept them to himself--for prentice was the man from whose safe the cipher key had been abstracted! so he contented himself with inquiring whether the watchman was certain that the woman who entered the building was mrs. prentice. "shure an' i'm certain," was the reply. "i've seen her and that green evening cape of hers trimmed with fur too often not to know her." "do you know how long it was between the time that she entered the building and the time she left?" persisted taylor. "that i do not, sir. time is something that you don't worry about much when it's a matter of guarding the door to a building--particularly at night. but i'd guess somewhere about five or ten minutes?" "rather long for her to make her way to the office of her husband, find he wasn't there, and come right back, wasn't it?" "yes, sir--but you must remember i wasn't countin' the minutes, so to speak. maybe it was only three--maybe it was ten. anyhow, it was just nine-thirty when she left. i remember looking at the clock when she went out." from the watchman's house, located well over in the northeastern section of the city, taylor made his way to madelaine james's apartment on connecticut avenue, discovering that young lady on the point of setting off to keep a luncheon engagement. "i won't keep you a minute, madelaine," promised the secret service operative. "just want to ask what you know about mrs. mahlon prentice?" "wife of the third assistant secretary of state?" taylor nodded. "she's a chicago woman, i believe. came here a couple of years ago when her husband received his appointment. rather good-looking and very popular. i happened to be at a dinner with her last evening and--" "you what?" "i was at a dinner at the westovers' last night," repeated the james girl, "and mrs. prentice was among those present. looked stunning, too. what's the trouble?" "what time was the dinner?" taylor countered. "eight o'clock, but of course it didn't start until nearly eight-thirty." "and what time did mrs. prentice leave?" "a few minutes after i did. she was just going up for her wraps as i came downstairs at eleven o'clock." "you are certain that she was there all evening--that she didn't slip out for half an hour or so?" "of course i'm sure, mell," the girl replied, a trace of petulance in her voice. "why all the questions? do you suspect the wife of the third assistant secretary of state of robbing a bank?" "not a bank," taylor admitted, "but it happens that the safe in her husband's office was opened last night and a highly important slip of paper abstracted. what's more, the watchman on duty in the building is ready to swear that mrs. prentice came in shortly before nine-thirty, and went out some five or ten minutes later, stating that her husband had evidently finished his work and left." "that's impossible! no matter what the watchman says, there are a score of people who dined with mrs. prentice last evening and who know that she didn't leave the westovers' until after eleven. dinner wasn't over by nine-thirty, and she couldn't have gotten to the state department and back in less than twenty minutes at the inside. it's ridiculous, that's all!" "but the watchman!" exclaimed taylor. "he knows mrs. prentice and says he couldn't miss that green-and-fur coat of hers in the dark. besides, she spoke to him as she was leaving." madelaine james was silent for a moment, and a tiny frown appeared between her eyes, evidence of the fact that she was doing some deep thinking. then: "of course she spoke! anyone who would go to the trouble of copying mrs. prentice's distinctive cloak would realize that some additional disguise was necessary. last night, if you remember, was quite cold. therefore it would be quite natural that the woman who impersonated mrs. prentice should have her collar turned up around her face and probably a drooping hat as well. the collar, in addition to concealing her features, would muffle her voice, while the watchman, not suspecting anything, would take it for granted that the green cloak was worn by the wife of the under secretary--particularly when she spoke to him in passing." "you mean, then, that some one deliberately impersonated mrs. prentice and took a chance on getting past the watchman merely because she wore a cloak of the same color?" "the same color--the same style--practically the same coat," argued miss james. "what's more, any woman who would have the nerve to try that would probably watch prentice's office from the outside, wait for the light to go out, and then stage her visit not more than five minutes later, so's to make it appear plausible. how was the safe opened?" "stethoscope. placed the cup on the outside, and then listened to the tumblers as they fell. simplest thing in the world with an antiquated box like that." "what's missing?" by this time taylor felt that their positions had been reversed. he, who had come to question, was now on the witness stand, while madelaine james was doing the cross-examining. but he didn't mind. he knew the way the girl's mind worked, quickly and almost infallibly--her knowledge of women in general and washington society in particular making her an invaluable ally in a case like this. "a slip of paper some six inches long and two inches wide," he said, with a smile. "the key to the carruthers code, probably the most efficient cipher in the world, but now rendered worthless unless the original slip is located before it reaches some foreign power." "right!" snapped miss james. "get busy on your end of the matter. see what you can find out concerning this mysterious woman in the green cloak. i'll work along other and what you would probably call strictly unethical lines. i've got what a man would term a 'hunch,' but in a woman it is 'intuition'--and therefore far more likely to be right. see you later!" and with that she was off toward her car. "but what about your luncheon engagement?" taylor called after her. "bother lunch," she laughed back over her shoulder. "if my hunch is right i'll make your chief pay for my meals for the next year!" the next that taylor heard from his ally was a telephone call on the following evening, instructing him to dig up his evening clothes and to be present at a certain reception that evening. "i have reason to believe," said madelaine's voice, "that the lady of the second green cloak will be present. anyhow, there'll be several of your friends there--including myself, mrs. armitage, and an ambassador who doesn't stand any too well with the administration. in fact, i have it on good authority that he's on the verge of being recalled. naturally we don't want him to take a slip of paper, some six inches by two, with him!" "how do you know he hasn't it already?" "he doesn't return from new york until six o'clock this evening, and the paper is far too valuable to intrust to the mails or to an underling. remember, i'm not certain that it is he who is supposed to get the paper eventually, but i do know who impersonated mrs. prentice, and i likewise know that the lady in question has not communicated with any foreign official in person. beyond that we'll have to take a chance on the evening's developments," and the receiver was replaced before taylor could frame any one of the score of questions he wanted to ask. even at the reception that night he was unable to get hold of madelaine james long enough to find out just what she did know. in fact, it was nearly midnight before he caught the signal that caused him to enter one of the smaller and rather secluded rooms apart from the main hall. there he found a tableau that was totally unexpected. in one corner of the room, her back against the wall and her teeth bared in a snarl which distorted her usually attractive features into a mask of hate, stood mrs. armitage. her hands were crossed in front of her in what appeared to be an unnatural attitude until taylor caught a glimpse of polished steel and realized that the woman had been handcuffed. "there," announced madelaine, "in spite of your friend the watchman, stands 'mrs. prentice.' you'll find the green cloak in one of the closets at her home, and the stethoscope is probably concealed somewhere around the house. however, that doesn't matter. the main thing is that we have discovered the missing slip of paper. you'll find it on the table over there." taylor followed the girl's gesture toward a table at the side of the room. but there, instead of the cipher key that he had expected, he saw only--a gold bracelet! "what's the idea?" he demanded. "where's the paper?" "snap open the bracelet," directed the girl. "what do you see?" "it looks like--by gad! it is!--a tightly wrapped spindle of paper!" and a moment later the original of the carruthers code reposed safely in the secret service agent's vest pocket. as he tossed the empty bracelet back on the table he heard a sound behind him and turned just in time to see the woman in the corner slip to the floor in a dead faint. "now that we've got her," inquired madelaine james, "what'll we do with her?" "take off the handcuffs, leave the room, and close the door," directed taylor. "she'll hardly care to make any fuss when she comes to, and the fact that she is unconscious gives us an excellent opportunity for departing without a scene." "but what i'd like to know," he asked, as they strolled back toward the main ballroom, "is how you engineered the affair?" "i told you i had an intuition," came the reply, "and you laughed at me. yes you did, too! it wasn't apparent on your face, but i could feel that inside yourself you were saying, 'just another fool idea.' but mrs. armitage was preying on my mind. i didn't like the way she had slipped one over on us in connection with the leak on the peace note. then, too, she seemed to have no visible means of support, but plenty of money. "i felt certain that she wasn't guilty of blackmail or any of the more sordid kinds of crime, but the fact that she was on terms of familiarity with a number of diplomats, and that she seemed to have a fondness for army and navy officials, led me to believe that she was a sort of super spy, sent over here for a specific purpose. the instant you mentioned the carruthers code she sprang to my mind. a bill, slipped into the fingers of her maid, brought the information about the green cloak, and the rest was easy. "i figured that she'd have the cipher key on her to-night, for it was her first opportunity of passing it along to the man i felt certain she was working for. sure enough, as she passed him about half an hour ago she tapped her bracelet, apparently absent-mindedly. as soon as he was out of sight i sent one of the maids with a message that some one wanted to see her in one of the smaller rooms. thinking that it was the ambassador, she came at once. i was planted behind the door, handcuffed her before she knew what i was doing, and then signaled you! "quite elementary, my dear melville, quite elementary!" * * * * * "that," added quinn, "was the last they heard of mrs. armitage. taylor reported the matter at once, but the chief said that as they had the code they better let well enough alone. the following day the woman left washington, and no one has heard from her since--except for a package that reached taylor some months later. there was nothing in it except that photograph yonder, and, as taylor was interested only in his bride, _née_ madelaine james, he turned it over to me for my collection." xxiv five inches of death "quinn," i said one evening when the veteran of the united states secret service appeared to be in one of his story-spinning moods, "you've told me of cases that have to do with smuggling and spies, robberies and fingerprints and frauds, but you've never mentioned the one crime that is most common in the annals of police courts and detective bureaus." "murder?" inquired quinn, his eyes shifting to the far wall of his library-den. "precisely. haven't government detectives ever been instrumental in solving a murder mystery?" "yes, they've been mixed up in quite a few of them. there was the little matter of the hallowell case--where the crime and the criminal were connected by a shoelace--and the incident of 'the red circle.' but murder, as such, does not properly belong in the province of the government detective. only when it is accompanied by some breach of the federal laws does it come under the jurisdiction of the men from washington. like the montgomery murder mystery, for example." "oh yes, the one connected with the postmark that's framed on your wall over there!" i exclaimed. "i'd forgotten about that. hal preston handled it, didn't he--the same man responsible for running down 'the trail of the white mice'?" "that's the one," said quinn, and i was glad to see him settle luxuriously back in his old armchair--for that meant that he was preparing to recall the details of an adventure connected with a member of one of the government detective services. * * * * * if it hadn't been for the fact that preston was in california at the time, working on the case of a company that was using the mails for illegal purposes, it is extremely doubtful if the mystery would ever have been solved [quinn continued]; certainly not in time to prevent the escape of the criminal. but hal's investigations took him well up into the foot-hills of the sierra nevadas, and one morning he awoke to find the whole town in which he was stopping ablaze with a discussion of the "montgomery mystery," as they called it. it appeared from the details which preston picked up in the lobby of his hotel that marshall montgomery had settled down in that section of the country some three years before, but that he had surrounded himself with an air of aloofness and detachment which had made him none too popular. men who had called to see him on matters of business had left smarting under the sting of an ill-concealed snub, while it was as much as a book agent's life was worth to try to gain entrance to the house. "it wasn't that he was stingy or close-fisted," explained one of the men who had known montgomery. "he bought more liberty bonds than anyone else in town--but he bought them through his bank. mailed the order in, just as he did with his contributions to the red cross and the other charitable organizations. wouldn't see one of the people who went out to his place. in fact, they couldn't get past the six or eight bulldogs that guard the house." "and yet," said preston, "i understand that in spite of his precautions he was killed last night?" "nobody knows just when he was killed," replied the native, "or how. that's the big question. when his servant, a filipino whom he brought with him, went to wake him up this morning he found montgomery's door locked. that in itself was nothing unusual--for every door and window in the place was securely barred before nine o'clock in the evening. but when tino, the servant, had rapped several times without receiving any reply, he figured something must be wrong. so he got a stepladder, propped it up against the side of the house, and looked in through the window. what he saw caused him to send in a hurry call for the police." "well," snapped preston, "what did he see?" "montgomery, stretched out on the floor near the door, stone dead--with a pool of blood that had formed from a wound in his hand!" "in his hand?" preston echoed. "had he bled to death?" "apparently not--but that's where the queer angle to the case comes in. the door was locked from the inside--not only locked, but bolted, so there was no possibility of anyone having entered the room. the windows were tightly guarded by a patented burglar-proof device which permitted them to be open about three inches from the bottom, but prevented their being raised from the outside." "was there a chimney or any other possible entrance to the room?" "none at all. three windows and a door. montgomery's body was sprawled out on the rug near the doorway--a revolver in his right hand, a bullet hole through the palm of his left. the first supposition, of course, was that he had accidentally shot himself and had bled to death. but there wasn't enough blood for that. just a few drops on the table and a small pool near the body. they're going to hold an autopsy later in the day and--" it was at that moment that the post-office operative became conscious that some one was calling his name, and, turning, he beckoned to the bell-boy who was paging him. "mr. preston? gentleman over there'd like to speak to you." then the boy added in a whisper, "chief o' police." excusing himself, preston crossed the lobby to where a large and official-looking man was standing, well out of hearing distance of the guests who passed. "is this mr. preston of the postal inspection service?" inquired the head of the local police force, adding, after the government operative had nodded. "i am the chief of police here." "glad to meet you, chief," was preston's response. "i haven't had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, though of course i know you by sight." (he neglected to add how recently this knowledge had been acquired.) "what can i do for you?" "have you heard about the murder of montgomery marshall?" "only the few details that i picked up in the lobby just now. but a case of that kind is entirely out of my line, you know." "ordinarily it would be," agreed the other, "but here's something that i think puts a different complexion on things," and he extended a bloodstained scrap of paper for preston to examine. "that was found under the dead man's hand," the chief continued. "as you will note, it originally formed part of the wrapping of a special-delivery parcel which reached montgomery about eight o'clock last night--just before the house was locked up, in fact. tino, the filipino servant, signed for it and took it in, placing it upon the table in the room in which his master was found this morning. the scrap of paper you are holding is just enough to show the postmark 'sacramento'--but it's quite evident that the package had something to do with the murder." "which is the reason that you want me to look into it, eh?" "that's the idea. i knew that you were in town, and the very fact that this box came through the mails makes it necessary for the post-office department to take cognizance of what otherwise would be a job for the police force alone. am i right?" "perfectly," replied preston. "provided you have reason to believe that there was some connection between the special-delivery package and the crime itself. what was in the box?" "not a thing!" "what?" "not a thing!" repeated the chief. "perfectly empty--at least when we found it. the lid was lying on the table, the rest of the box on the floor. the major portion of the wrapping paper had been caught under a heavy paper weight and it appears that montgomery, in falling, caught at the table to save himself and probably ripped away the scrap of paper i have just given you." "but i thought his body was found near the door?" "it was, but that isn't far from the table, which is jammed against the wall in front of one of the windows. come on up to the house with me and we'll go over the whole thing." glad of the excuse to look into a crime which appeared to be inexplicable, preston accompanied the chief to the frame dwelling on the outskirts of town where montgomery marshall, hermit, had spent the last three years of his life. the house was set well back from the road, with but a single gateway in a six-foot wall of solid masonry, around the top of which ran several strands of barbed wire. "montgomery erected the wall himself," explained the chief. "had it put up before he ever moved into the house, and then, in addition, kept a bunch of the fiercest dogs i ever knew." "all of which goes to prove that he feared an attack," preston muttered. "in spite of his precautions, however, they got him! the question now is: who are 'they' and how did they operate?" the room in which the body had been found only added to the air of mystery which surrounded the entire problem. in spite of what he had been told preston had secretly expected to find some kind of an opening through which a man could have entered. but there was none. the windows, as the postal operative took care to test for himself, were tightly locked, though open a few inches from the bottom. the bolt on the door very evidently had been shattered by the entrance of the police, and the dark-brown stain on the rug near the door showed plainly where the body had been found. "when we broke in," explained the chief, "montgomery was stretched out there, facing the door. the doctor said that he had been dead about twelve hours, but that it was impossible for the wound in his hand to have caused his death." "how about a poisoned bullet, fired through the opening in the window?" "not a chance! the only wound on the body was the one through the palm of his hand. the bullet had struck on the outside of the fleshy part near the wrist and had plowed its way through the bone, coming out near the base of the index finger at the back. and it was a bullet from his own revolver! we found it embedded in the top of the table there." and the chief pointed to a deep scar in the mahogany and to the marks made by the knives of the police when they had dug the bullet out. "but how do you know it wasn't a bullet of the same caliber, fired from outside the window?" persisted preston. for answer the chief produced montgomery's revolver, with five cartridges still in the chambers. "if you'll note," he said, "each of these cartridges is scored or seamed. that's an old trick--makes the lead expand when it hits and tears an ugly hole, just like a 'dum-dum.' the bullet we dug out of the table was not only a forty-five, as these are, but it had been altered in precisely the same manner. so, unless you are inclined to the coincidence that the murderer used a poisoned bullet of the same size and make and character as those in montgomery's gun, you've got to discard that theory." "does look like pulling the long arm of coincidence out of its socket," preston agreed. "so i guess we'll have to forget it. where's the box you were talking about?" "the lid is on the table, just as we found it. the lower portion of the box is on the floor, where the dead man apparently knocked it when he fell. except for the removal of the body, nothing in the room has been touched." stooping, preston picked up the box and then proceeded to study it in connection with the lid and the torn piece of wrapping paper upon the table. it was after he had examined the creases in the paper, fitting them carefully around the box itself, that he inquired: "do you notice anything funny about the package, chief?" "only that there's a hole at one end of it, just about big enough to put a lead pencil through." "yes, and that same hole appears in the wrapping paper," announced preston. "couple that with the fact that the box was empty when you found it and i think we will have--" "what?" demanded the chief, as preston paused. "the solution to the whole affair," was the reply. "or, at least, as much of it as refers to the manner in which montgomery met his death. by the way, what do you know about the dead man?" "very little. he came here some three years ago, bought this place, paying cash for it; had the wall built, and then settled down. never appeared to do any work, but was never short of money. has a balance of well over fifty thousand dollars in the bank right now. beyond the fact that he kept entirely to himself and refused to allow anyone but tino, his servant, to enter the gate, he really had few eccentricities. some folks say that he was a miser, but there are a dozen families here that wouldn't have had any christmas dinner last year if it hadn't been for him--while his contribution to the red cross equaled that of anyone in town." "apart from his wanting to be alone, then, he was pretty close to being human?" "that's it, exactly--and most of us have some peculiarity. if we didn't have we'd be even more unusual." "what about tino, the servant?" queried preston. "i don't think there's any lead there," the chief replied. "i hammered away at him for an hour this morning. he doesn't speak english any too well, but i gathered that montgomery picked him up in the philippines just before he came over here. the boy was frightened half out of his senses when i told him that his master had been killed. you've got to remember, though, that if tino had wanted to do it he had a thousand opportunities in the open. besides, what we've got to find out first is how montgomery met his death?" "does the filipino know anything about his master's past?" asked preston, ignoring the chief's last remark. "he says not. montgomery was on his way back to the states from africa or some place--stopped off in the islands--spent a couple of months there--hired tino and sailed for san francisco." "africa--" mused the postal operative. then, taking another track, he inquired whether the chief had found out if montgomery was in the habit of getting much mail, especially from foreign points. "saunders, the postmaster, says he didn't average a letter a month--and those he did get looked like advertisements. they remembered this special-delivery package last night because it was the first time that the man who brought it out had ever come to the house. he rang the bell at the gate, he says, turned the box over to tino, and went along." "any comment about the package?" "only that it was very light and contained something that wabbled around. i asked him because i figured at the time that the revolver might have been in it. but the filipino has identified that as montgomery's own gun. says he'd had it as long as he'd known him." "then all we know about this mysterious box," summarized preston, "is that it was mailed from sacramento, that it wasn't heavy, that it had a hole about a quarter-inch wide at one end, and that it contained something that--what was the word the special-delivery man used--'wabbled'?" "that's the word. i remember because i asked him if he didn't mean 'rattled,' and he said, 'no, wabbled, sort o' dull-like.'" "at any rate, that clears up one angle of the case. the box was not empty when it was delivered! granting that the filipino was telling the truth, it was not empty when he placed it on the table in this room! that means that it was not empty when marshall montgomery, after locking and bolting his door, took off the wrapping paper and lifted the lid! you've searched the room thoroughly, of course?" "every inch of it. we didn't leave a--" but the chief suddenly halted, his sentence unfinished. to the ears of both men there had come a sound, faint but distinct. the sound of the rattling of paper somewhere in the room. involuntarily preston whirled and scrutinized the corner from which the sound appeared to have come. the chief's hand had slipped to his hip pocket, but after a moment of silence he withdrew it and a slightly shamefaced look spread over his face. "sounded like a ghost, didn't it?" he asked. "ghosts don't rattle papers," snapped preston. "at least self-respecting ones don't, and the other kind haven't any right to run around loose. so suppose we try to trap this one." "trap it? how?" "like you'd trap a mouse--only with a different kind of bait. is there any milk in the house?" "possibly--i don't know." "go down to the refrigerator and find out, will you? i'll stay here until you return. and bring a saucer with you." a few moments later, when the chief returned, bearing a bottle of milk and a saucer, he found preston still standing beside the table, his eyes fixed upon a corner of the room from which the sound of rattling paper had come. "now all we need is a box," said the postal operative. "i saw one out in the hall that will suit our purposes excellently." securing the box, he cut three long and narrow strips from the sides, notched them and fitted them together in a rough replica of the figure , with the lower point of the upright stick resting on the floor beside the saucer of milk and the wooden box poised precariously at the junction of the upright and the slanting stick. "a figure-four trap, eh?" queried the chief. "what do you expect to catch?" "a mixture of a ghost and the figure of justice," was preston's enigmatic reply. "come on--we'll lock the door and return later to see if the trap has sprung. meanwhile, i'll send some wires to sacramento, san francisco, and other points throughout the state." the telegram, of which he gave a copy to the local chief of police, "in order to save the expense of sending it," read: wire immediately if you know anything of recent arrival from africa--probably american or english--who landed within past three days. wanted in connection with montgomery murder. the message to san francisco ended with the phrase "watch outgoing boats closely," and that to sacramento "was in your city yesterday." hardly an hour later the phone rang and a voice from police headquarters in sacramento asked to speak to "postal inspector preston." "just got your wire," said the voice, "and i think we've got your man. picked him up on the street last night, unconscious. hospital people say he's suffering from poisoning of some kind and don't expect him to live. keeps raving about diamonds and some one he calls 'marsh.' papers on him show he came into san francisco two days ago on the _manu_. won't tell his name, but has mentioned cape town several times." "right!" cried preston. "watch him carefully until i get there. i'll make the first train out." that afternoon preston, accompanied by two chiefs of police, made his way into a little room off the public ward in the hospital in sacramento. in bed, his face drawn and haggard until the skin seemed like parchment stretched tightly over his cheekbones, lay a man at the point of death--a man who was only kept alive, according to the physicians, by some almost superhuman effort of the will. "it's certain that he's been poisoned," said the doctor in charge of the case, "but he won't tell us how. just lies there and glares and demands a copy of the latest newspaper. every now and then he drifts off into delirium, but just when we think he's on the point of death he recovers." motioning to the others to keep in the background, preston made his way to the bedside of the dying man. then, bending forward, he said, very clearly and distinctly: "marshall montgomery is dead!" into the eyes of the other man there sprang a look of concentrated hatred that was almost tangible--a glare that turned, a moment later, into supreme relief. "thank god!" he muttered. "now i'm ready to die!" "tell me," said preston, quietly--"tell me what made you do it." "he did!" gasped the man on the bed. "he and his damned brutality. when i knew him his name was marsh. we dug for diamonds together in south africa--found them, too--enough to make us both rich for life. but our water was running low--barely enough for one of us. he, the skunk, hit me over the head and left me to die--taking the water and the stones with him." he paused a moment, his breath rattling in his throat, and then continued: "it took me five years to find him--but you say he's dead? you're not lying?" preston shook his head slowly and the man on the bed settled back and closed his eyes, content. "ask him," insisted the chief of police, "how he killed montgomery?" in a whisper that was barely audible came the words: "sheep-stinger. got me first." then his jaws clicked and there was the unmistakable gurgle which meant that the end had come. "didn't he say 'sheep-stinger'?" asked the chief of police, after the doctor had stated that the patient had slipped away from the hands of the law. "that's what it sounded like to me," replied preston. "but suppose we go back to montgomery's room and see what our ghost trap has caught. i told you i expected to land a figure of justice--and if ever a man deserved to be killed it appears to have been this same montgomery marshall, or marsh, as this man knew him." the instant they entered the room it was apparent that the trap had sprung, the heavy box falling forward and completely covering the saucer of milk and whatever had disturbed the carefully balanced sticks. warning the chief to be careful, preston secured a poker from an adjoining room, covered the box with his automatic, and then carefully lifted the box, using the poker as a lever. a second later he brought the head of the poker down on something that writhed and twisted and then lay still, blending in with the pattern of the carpet in such a manner as to be almost invisible. "a snake!" cried the chief. "but such a tiny one! do you mean to say that its bite is sufficiently poisonous to kill a man?" "not only one, but two," preston declared, "as you've seen for yourself. see that black mark, like an inverted v, upon the head? that's characteristic of the cobra family, and this specimen--common to the veldts of south africa where he is known as the 'sheep stinger'--is first cousin to the big king cobras. montgomery's former partner evidently brought him over from africa with this idea in mind. but when he was packing him in the box--the airhole in the end of it gave me the first inkling, by the way--he got careless and the snake bit him. only medical attention saved his life until this afternoon, else he'd have passed along before montgomery. i think that closes the case, chief, and in spite of the fact that the mails were used for a distinctly illegal purpose, i believe your department ought to handle the matter--not mine." "but the trap--the milk? how'd you happen to hit on that?" "when you told me what the special-delivery man said about the contents of the package 'wabbling' i figured that the box must have contained a snake," explained the postal operative. "an animal would have made some noise, while a snake, if well fed, will lie silent for hours at a time. the constant motion, however, would have made it irritable--so that it struck the moment montgomery removed the lid of the box. that explains the wound in his hand. he knew his danger and deliberately fired, hoping to cauterize the wound and drive out the poison. it was too quick for him, though, or possibly the shock stunned him so that he fell. "then, in spite of the fact that your men claimed to have searched the room thoroughly, that noise in the corner warned me that whatever killed montgomery was still here. going on the theory that the majority of snakes are fond of milk, i rigged up the trap. and there you are!" * * * * * "yes," concluded quinn, "the majority of the cases handled by government detectives have to do with counterfeiting or smuggling or other crimes against the federal law--offenses which ought to be exciting but which are generally dull and prosaic. every now and then, though, they stumble across a real honest-to-goodness thrill, a story that's worth the telling. "i've got to be away for the next couple of months or so, but drop around when i get back and i'll see if i can't recall some more of the problems that have been solved by one of the greatest, though least known, detective agencies on the face of the earth." the end * * * * * transcriber's notes: contents page changes made to agree with chapter headings: "lost--$ , !"--quotes and exclamation point added. "the double code"--quotes added. "thirty thousand," and again on p. --hyphen removed (more frequent without). after contents page, "on secret service" displays twice--once alone on a page, and again above the chapter i heading. one of the redundancies has been deleted. missing or incorrect punctuation repaired. spelling errors fixed. hyphenation variants changed to most frequently used version. p. "simpson lives" original reads "simpson lived." p. thought break added for consistency. p. "douglass" changed to more frequently used "douglas." p. code table: original shows first number under q as " ." corrected to " ." p. "well dressed" changed to "well-dressed." p. two occurrences of "blonde" changed to more frequently used "blond." abbreviations "sub." and "ad." in original retained. "charleston" and "charlestown," "down town" and "downtown" (used equally), "everyone" and "every one [of]," "résumé" (for summary) and "resume" (for assume anew), "loath" (for unwilling) and "loathe" (for abhor), "mix-up" and "mixup" (used equally), "anyone" and "any one" (a single, particular one) were used in this text and retained. also retained "flivvered" (p. ). the german spy system from within by william le queux published by hodder and stoughton, london, new york, toronto. this edition dated . the german spy system from within, by william le queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ the german spy system from within, by william le queux. preface. the amazing ramifications of the german spy system in england are, unfortunately, not even to-day fully realised by the british public, or admitted by the government. in face of the hard facts contained in this book, in face of the serious statements of members in the house of commons, and in face of what the public are themselves daily reporting to the "authorities," the present apathy of the government, and its refusal to admit the peril and deal with spies with a firm hand, is little short of criminal. seven years before the outbreak of war, by a mere accident while in germany, i was able to place before the intelligence department of the war office certain facts which, on being thoroughly investigated, resulted in the establishment of a department for contra-espionage. therefore, however lightly the government may to-day affect to treat the question, the fact remains that they have, all along, known of the existence of a horde of german secret-agents in our midst. nevertheless, even as recently as march , the government, in response to urgent appeals, blankly refused to vest in one minister powers to deal with enemy aliens and spies, in place of the present divided policy. truly deplorable it is to think that to-day, while we are fighting for our very existence as a nation, spies are permitted entire freedom, and are nobody's business. this most vital question has been shuttle-cocked between the war office and the home office until it is now impossible to say where the responsibility really lies. the one fact, however, which cannot be disguised from the public is that, if the germans made a raid upon our shores, the government, so self-satisfied, would suddenly awake to find, as france and belgium did, an army of spies busily assisting in our undoing. "ex-intelligence officer" has, within the covers of this book, plainly shown how systematic espionage is, and that it has been for many years a most cherished part of german war administration, developed with much forethought, and with characteristic teuton cunning. that a settled and widespread system of spies exists in great britain at the present moment is well-known, both to the government and to the public, yet certain ministers would have us close our eyes and accept the extraordinary assurance given by mr mckenna, early in the war, that the spy-peril has been stamped out. but is it stamped out? i here assert that at no moment of our national history have we been confronted by a graver peril from within, than that with which we are confronted to-day. the public are daily realising more and more that they are being hoodwinked and bamboozled by this shuttlecock policy, which is playing so completely into the enemy's hands, and is allowing dastardly preparations to be made to hasten our downfall. the inflamed state of public opinion is only too apparent by the mass of correspondence which i have received from all classes, from peers to working men, regarding the publication of my book "german spies in england," and, further, by its phenomenal sale. every letter of the piles before me as i write, complains bitterly of the apathy and disregard with which the authorities treat the reports made to them of the doings of spies, and all express disgust at the refusal to stir in a matter which so closely affects our national security, or even to institute the smallest inquiry. over the whole subject mystery and mystification brood. the present policy--in face of what the government know, and what i myself know, as one who has spent the past seven years in studying the german secret service system and patiently watching its agents--allows, for example, baron von bulow, brother of the german ex-chancellor, to live comfortably at putney, in the full enjoyment of a telephone; it mysteriously reverses many military orders for the removal of alien enemies from prohibited areas, providing always that those persons are of the better class; it allows signals to be sent nightly from our shores to the sea, and vice versa; it releases about , aliens monthly from the internment-camps; it has attempted to gag the press, and is, to-day--as i will presently prove--stifling all inquiries into the doing of spies among us. in no other capital in the world, save london, would such a disgraceful scandal be for one moment tolerated, as that which any reader may investigate for himself, providing he is careful not to obtrude his british nationality, namely, the toasting of the "day" of britain's downfall by these self-same enemy aliens, who, recently released from the internment-camps, now nightly meet and plot in the various little foreign restaurants in the neighbourhood of the tottenham court road. here, round the small tables in the underworld of london, sit enemy men and women, openly expressing the most intense hatred of us, gloating over their own piratical deeds and barbarities, and declaring that in england, ere long, there is to be repeated the same savagery and unbridled lust with which poor belgium was swept from end to end. this is no idle statement. i have been present, posing as an italian and a neutral, and i have seen and heard. indeed, in those places, news from germany is known hours before it is known to our military or naval authorities, and i have heard it declared openly that the vanguard of spies among us are ready to act at a given signal--which is to be the appearance of zeppelins over london--to blow up bridges, water-mains, and railways, destroy telephones and telegraphs, and commit the most widespread havoc, incendiary and otherwise, for the purpose of creating a panic, and preventing the movements of troops. naturally, one asks, where are the police? on discovering this scandalous state of affairs i went to new scotland yard to ask that same question. i had interviews with various officials, and after over an hour's prevarication and elusive replies to my rather disconcerting questions, i succeeded in eliciting the very illuminating fact that they were unable to act without the consent of the home office! why, one may ask, is it withheld? why should we risk our well-being by allowing these hot-beds of conspiracy and crime to be officially protected, while a man may be hauled before the magistrate for the heinous offence of not having a rear-lamp to his cycle? what a comedy! mr justice ridley has rightly said: "we must make an end of spies." yet the fact that spies are being officially winked at can no longer be doubted. before me, i have fully two hundred cases reported by responsible citizens in various parts of the country in which the "authorities"--who seem, by the way, to have no authority at all--have refused even to make the most superficial inquiry, or else a constable in full uniform has been sent to interview the person under suspicion! let us calmly consider the present situation. the mystery of the official protection afforded to spies has been greatly increased during the month of march, and the public confidence has been further shaken in consequence of the statement of mr bonar law in the house of commons, who not only declared that there were, on march st, male alien enemies still residing on or near the coast, but also made a most interesting revelation. the admiralty, he said, in order to test whether signalling was really going on from the shore, sent a trawler to sea with instructions to show german signal-lights. and these were instantly answered! what was done? nothing! and, judging from the experience of the public, this is hardly surprising. perhaps a case in point may be of interest. in the middle of february, from an officer in his majesty's service, i received information that certain highly suspicious signals were being made nightly between the kent coast and london. therefore i went forth at once to investigate, in company with the officer in question, who is a qualified signaller and wireless expert, and a non-commissioned officer also qualified in signalling, while i myself know something of signalling and wireless. for a fortnight we were out nearly every night in a motor-car--sometimes watching from the tops of hills, a cold and weary vigil from dark to dawn--until we had established, beyond all shadow of doubt, the houses whence the mysterious lights emanated. these houses--several of them being residences of well-to-do people, and all in high commanding positions, had, in each case, an alien living in them, whose name and calling i succeeded in obtaining. then, one night, while posted on a hill commanding nearly the whole of surrey, and having taken down their code-messages on many occasions, we resolved to make a test, and with a powerful signalling-apparatus, i suddenly replied to one of the signals, repeated part of the code-message, and in pretence of not understanding the remainder, asked for its repetition. at once it was flashed to me and read by all three of us! in the message, which, later on, was submitted to an expert in ciphers, occurred the numeral five. it was more than a coincidence, i think, that only an hour before that message had been flashed, five german aeroplanes had left the belgian coast on their way to england! on three separate occasions, from various high positions in kent and surrey, we flashed german signals, which were at once responded to. then, having fully established that messages were being nightly so exchanged, to and from the metropolis, always with the same three code-letters as prefix, and having definitely fixed those houses harbouring the spies, i considered it my duty, as an englishman serving his country, to call in the assistance of the intelligence department of the war office, and to them i furnished a full report, together with the signals sent and received. though my facts were vouched for by three officers and a signaller, and four civilians. i, at first, did not even receive the courtesy of a reply to what i had declared to be a matter of extreme urgency. two nights after sending in my report, some officers of the royal naval air service discovered a powerful car containing two men reconnoitring certain main roads in a surrey valley actually beneath the residence of one of the enemy signallers, and they naturally stopped it. the strangers were questioned, so suspiciously were they acting, while in the meantime one of the officers reported by telephone to the admiralty and asked for instructions. but the amazing reply received was that they had no authority to stop the car! as for myself, i again wrote to the intelligence department of the war office, but after eleven days all they would deign me was a mere printed notice informing me that my report had been _received_. to this i replied, asking that immediate steps might be taken to investigate and arrest the signallers as dangerous to the state--more dangerous perhaps even than the cyclist without his back-lamp--but to that letter i have not even received an acknowledgment! another instance may perhaps be of interest. i discovered that, among the belgian refugees from antwerp who had received charitable aid in one of our biggest seaports, were two men upon whom considerable suspicion had fallen. one posed as a smooth-tongued priest, and wore that garb, while the other was a "friend," apparently somewhat lower in the social scale. the priest asserted that he had been head of a college near antwerp; and in consequence of his pious profession, he was, as was but natural, made much of by the ladies in the city in question. one day this priest, who it had been noted had been unusually inquisitive, and had been constantly strolling round the extensive docks and quays, and had watched the military preparations in case of a raid, suddenly applied to the local belgian relief committee for money to return to antwerp. questioned, he told rather a lame story about some of his pupils having returned, while his friend, who also applied at the same time for leave to return, gave as excuse that he had to go to look after his cows! one wonders how many the germans had left him. or, perhaps he was a humorist, and meant the black cows--those mystic signs employed by von kluck's spies. the relief committee, apparently, were not exactly satisfied with the stories; nevertheless, they eventually granted the pair money for their journey back to belgium. a report of this i furnished immediately to the intelligence department, offering to send them information when the pair left the seaport, in order that they might be met on arrival in london and questioned, and i also supplied them with the time of the train by which they were to leave london for flushing. the whole matter was ignored, and an official acknowledgment, printed, of course, was sent to me _three days after the fair had gone_ across to flushing--full of most important information, as was afterwards discovered! here is yet another instance. in liverpool the special constables were performing most excellent work in hunting out alien enemies and sending them to internment-camps, when, of a sudden, an order came--whence nobody appears to know--to arrest no one further, for, as the order put it, "such action may create public alarm." why is it, too, that men of wealth and influence, bankers, brokers, financiers and birthday-baronets, german-born privy councillors, and other alien enemies who happen to possess money, are caressed and given such latitude to exert any evil influence they may like upon us? why, also, was baron von ow-wachendorf, a lieutenant in the yellow uhlans of stuttgart, just under thirty years of age, permitted to practise running in hyde park so as to fit him for his military duties: and why was he-- on march st--allowed to leave tilbury for holland to fight against us? these are questions upon which the public should demand satisfaction, and to arraign those responsible. i here wish to state, most emphatically, that i am not a politician, neither am i criticising, for one moment, the splendid military administration of lord kitchener. if the spy-peril were placed in his capable hands--with complete power to act, to arrest, and to punish-- then i would, at this moment, lay down my pen upon the question. yet, as one who was among the very first--perhaps the first--to discover the secret plans of germany and to report them, i consider it my duty, as a lover of my country, to warn the public. the time has passed for mincing matters, or for the further protection of traitors in our midst. i here cast no reflection upon any single person, and further, any person mentioned in this article is beyond the pale of my statement, but i here assert that i have had, in my possession, a list--actually shown to me by a friend at wilhelm-strasse, who was _their paymaster_--of persons in england and america who have been in receipt of german money, and who, by dint of it and of secret influence, have risen to high degree, and, in some instances, to places with fat emoluments. motives of patriotism alone prevent me from revealing that list at this hour of our national crisis. the many truths contained in the following chapters of this book must surely reveal to the reader the edge of the volcano upon which we are now sitting. notwithstanding all the false official assurances, the sleepiness of the much-vaunted intelligence department, and the fettered hands of the police--both metropolitan and provincial--must surely give the man-in-the-street to pause. spies are to-day among us in every walk of life, and in almost every town in great britain. every single man and woman among them is impatiently awaiting the signal for the destruction of our homes and the ruin and massacre of our dear ones, and yet we are actually asked to believe that no danger exists! the same kid-gloved policy which, at a cost of , pounds has provided a pleasant mansion with charming grounds, and a staff of valets, servants, etc, for german officers, many of whom were responsible for the barbaric outrages on innocent women, and the massacre of children in belgium, has also placed a protecting hand upon our alien enemies. assuredly this is an injudicious policy, for it has already created a very grave suspicion and distrust in the public mind. the "authorities"--whoever the persons in real authority may be--know full well how, with every outgoing mail to holland or scandinavia, there goes forth a mass of information concerning us, collected by spies, and forwarded to neutral countries, where it is again collected by german secret-agents, and forwarded to the german secret service in berlin. these letters are generally written, either in invisible ink or in cipher-ticks, upon newspapers or magazines, which are merely placed in unsuspicious-looking wrappers addressed to somebody, usually with an english name, in holland, denmark, or sweden. i have before me two such letters posted in hertfordshire. further, we have undoubted communication existing nightly from the sea to london by means of the line of signal-lights which i have described, and further, these, it has lately been proved, extend north, from the neighbourhood of harrow, right up to leeds, manchester, and liverpool. there are other fixed lights, too; brilliantly-lit windows and skylights, which show each night, and are intended as beacons for the guidance of the enemy's aircraft. yet, all the time, we pursue the foolish policy of trying to hide london by darkening it, and, at the same time, shine searchlights at the self-same place and at the same hour each night--apparently to betray to the enemy our most vulnerable points. it was not long ago that, in this connection, my friend mr geo. r. sims pointed out the existence of a line of these guiding-lights, extending from willesden across to buckingham palace, and happily, through the exposure he made, those of our "friends" who maintained them have now been forced to leave them unlit. germans have been found in possession of hotels and mansions in strategic positions all over the united kingdom, and to-day numbers of alien enemies--thanks to the order which has released them from the internment-camps--are actually employed at the various great railway termini in the metropolis! fancy such a state of affairs being permitted by imperial germany--a country in which british prisoners of war are half-starved, as evidenced by a cleverly composed letter before me from one who is unfortunately a prisoner, and which passed the german censor, whose knowledge of english was not so extensive as to cause him to suspect. when the reader has digested the pages which follow--chapters which give a very lucid, calm, and first-hand idea of the low-down methods of german espionage, he will, i venture to think, agree that it is of no use to cross the barbarian's sword with a peacock's feather. germany intends, if she can, to crush and to humiliate us, to devastate our homes, to outrage and massacre our dear ones, and by every subtle and dastardly means, to bring upon us a disaster so stupendous as to stagger humanity. shall we remain lulled to sleep further by assurances which are not borne out by facts? germany's advance guard of spies are already here, rubbing shoulders with us, many of them smug and respectable citizens passing among us entirely unsuspected, members of our churches, honoured, and believed to be britons. some are alien enemies, others are traitors, who have imperilled this country's safety for the lure of german gold. in another place i have fully explained how the german government held out an alluring bait to myself. if this was done to me, then surely it has been done to others. we are britons, fighting for our king and our country. our fathers, husbands, sons, and brothers, have gone forth to battle for the right and hurl back the barbaric teuton-tide which threatens to overwhelm us. some, alas! already lie in their graves. is it therefore not our duty to those we hold dear to see that spies shall not exist in our midst? if the government are so utterly incapable of dealing effectively with the problem, as they are now proved to be, then why do they not allow the formation of a central board, with drastic powers, to end at once this national danger, which grows more acute with the dawn of every day? i am no alarmist, nor am i affected with spy mania. i am merely here writing a plain and bitter truth, the truth which i have learnt after years of experience and patient inquiry. if space permitted, i could relate a hundred stories of espionage, all supported by evidence; stories which would contain as much excitement as any i have ever written in the guise of fiction. but my only object in this preface is to urge the public to read this book, to inquire into and study the problem for themselves, and to assure them that the words of "ex-intelligence officer" are full of very grave truths, which cannot be ignored or refuted. it is for the public themselves to demand satisfaction in a very determined and outstanding manner. the voice of the country is unanimous that we are being trifled with, and surely it is a thousand pities that mistrust should thus arise, as it is rapidly arising, at this grave crisis of our national history. the public have been told definitely by mr tennant that "every enemy alien is known, and is now under constant police surveillance." if the public, in face of the mass of evidence accumulating to the contrary, will still believe it, then let them rest in their fool's paradise until the day of awakening. if not, then they, through their representatives in parliament, have the matter in their own hands. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ william le queux. devonshire club, london s.w. april . foreword. british and other official circles know more of the german secret service than the public are aware of, and there is little that is done by german agents without the cognisance of the countries affected by their work, at the present time. the following pages make no attempt at unveiling all the secrets of the german system, for that would involve not a book, but a library. what has been done is to present such evidence with regard to the system as can be verified from unquestionable sources--the book given here in no case goes beyond the truth, and is capable of proof, with the exception of the chapter on _agents provocateurs_, of whose work no direct proofs are available to the general public. in this case the writer has been careful to state facts in such a way that they carry their own proof. further, as an ex-member of the intelligence staff, the writer has had access to information respecting the british secret service which is not generally available, but patriotic motives would alone be sufficient to withhold this information. all that is said with regard to the british methods of counter-espionage, or with regard to the measures adopted by any other government against german spying, is compiled from information available in the columns of the press to all who care to read. the book is written in the earnest hope that it may do something toward revealing the nature of the german spy system to incredulous folk, for by opening the eyes of the public to such a definite danger one is a step nearer to the crushing of german militarism. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the author. chapter one. a review of the spy system. in all things pertaining to the conduct of war germany of to-day has copied as far as possible the methods of napoleon the first. in military strategy, german experts have fallen far behind their model--or rather, they have never approached his methods, because they have never fathomed the secret of his success. von clausewitz, the greatest german military writer, planned his "on war" on napoleonic lines, but left out the greatest factor of napoleon's work. as he saw the work of the great conqueror, napoleon made use of accident: in reality, napoleon made the accident, and this von clausewitz could not comprehend. french genius rediscovered the napoleon strategy, but even unto this day german military methods leave out the idea of making circumstances instead of being limited by them. thus, in striving to attain the napoleonic ideal in things military, germany has failed. but napoleon established a new branch of military organisation when he codified and arranged a system of espionage, and, in adopting from him this systematisation of what had hitherto been a haphazard business, german builders for a world-empire have gone far beyond their model, so that to-day the german spy system is the most perfect ever organised, not even excepting the system of venice in its palmy days, where all was written and nothing spoken, nor that of russia in comparatively modern times. the german system falls naturally under several heads. to take them in reverse order of importance, there is first the commercial system of espionage, which takes the form of sending out men who accept posts as clerks in foreign (to germany) business firms. these men come, especially to england, ostensibly to learn the language, but in many cases they have received thorough tuition in idiomatic and commercial english from some member of the british colonies existing in such centres as berlin and dresden. they accept a very low wage for what are in reality services far beyond their pay in value. they gain access to books and price-lists, and to lists of customers, by means of which they are able to give exact details of the markets to which british goods are sent, and the prices, rates of freight, discounts, etc. these particulars are transmitted in full to germany, and with them the german competing firms are able to undercut british firms in foreign markets, and to secure british trade by always making their estimates a little lower than those of the competing british firms. since in commerce all is legitimate in the interests of one's employer, the only comment to be made on this method of spying is that it is despicable in that it involves the deliberate abuse of hospitality, and thus no code of ethics can be found to justify it; but business and ethics are two different things. this commercial spying, however, is but an offshoot from the great espionage system perfected by stieber, chief of german secret police and privy councillor, of whom more anon. the main system is concerned with military and naval matters, and various points discovered in connection with this main system show that germany has for many years made up its mind to embark on a war of aggrandisement--whether or no the war lord of popular conception was fully in agreement with the idea is another matter, and one that history will probably show. the superiority of the german system to that of other and what may be termed competing nations is evidenced by one apparently unimportant fact. when french and british spies have been caught in germany, and sentenced to terms of imprisonment in german fortresses, in a great number of cases it has transpired that the offenders were military officers still on the active list. they had been specially chosen for their work, perhaps; they had undertaken it with the highest of motives, also, perhaps; and they had understood the grave risks they ran in that their governments would afford them no direct protection in case of their being detected. but they were officers on the active list, soldiers by profession. now, on consideration, the calling of a spy reveals itself as one of doubtful honesty, no matter what the motives prompting the spy may be-- and the soldier is at all times supposed to be a man of honour and strict integrity--which he usually is. whether the spy be a british, french, russian, or german subject, he is engaged in abusing the hospitality of the country on which he is spying, and, from a military point of view, is not playing the game. so little is he playing the game, in fact, that in time of peace his government refuses to recognise him if he fails, and in time of war he gets no combatant rights, but is shot out of hand by the enemy into whose hands he falls. the formality of a trial is unnecessary, if the fact of espionage, accomplished or attempted, be apparent. guilty of what cannot be called other than a mean act, attempting to endanger the lives of soldiers by unsoldierly methods, in revealing himself as a spy a man condemns himself and passes his own sentence--which is as it should be. and yet two of the great powers permit commissioned officers to undertake this dirty work, as it must be called! germany has realised that special men ought to be employed for this special, necessary, but at the same time despicable business. your perfect spy is a man of criminal impulse, a moral pervert of sorts, and, recognising this, stieber and his followers in the government of the system have organised a separate branch of the great german general staff, a branch made up of chosen men and women, of whom the men may at one time have held military or naval commissions in this warlike nation, but very few are officers on the active list. it has been realised in this land of nearly perfect espionage that the duties of a spy and those of an officer of the services--of either service--are not compatible. the german secret-service corps which stieber organised is a matter of three main departments: the military, the naval, and the diplomatic spy corps. under the last-mentioned head must be grouped the work of germans in foreign countries, notably in france and to a certain extent in england, with a view to influencing labour by means of strikes and industrial unrest, a system of influence which often approaches closely to and sometimes interlinks with commercial espionage, though it is primarily directed to the paralysis of a possible enemy in case of war, and the facilitating of a german attack on the country in which the work is being done. for always german strategy has been that of attack; whatever protestations of peaceful intents the german nation may make, there can be no doubt of its real designs when one considers the trend of all its policy in recent years, the nature of its naval and military increase of effort, and, as far as revelations show, the methods pursued in its espionage system. germany as a whole has meditated attack with a view to extension of territory and commercial advantage for years, and no apologist can adduce evidence to justify, on the score of a defensive policy, such preparations for war as the country has made. one instance of the methods pursued by the espionage department will illustrate this. the fortifications of maubeuge, the french fortress which fell to the german attack in so marvellously short a time, were proof against anything short of the heaviest siege-artillery, and, before this class of artillery can be mounted for use against a town or fortress, gun-platforms levelled and supported by masonry equal to the strain imposed in firing the guns must be constructed. the construction of these platforms involves much calculation and measurement, and is not a matter of such time as was involved in the fall of maubeuge, but of a much longer period. the explanation of the use of siege-guns against maubeuge, and the rapid reduction of the fortress, is said to lie in the purchase of about acres of the woods of lanieres, about four miles from maubeuge, by an agent for frederic krupp, the builder of the siege-guns with which maubeuge was reduced. the firm of krupp, for whom this purchase was made as far back as , announced its intention of building a locomotive factory on the ground acquired; but, long before the present war was declared, krupp constructed the platforms on which siege-guns could be mounted to command maubeuge, and totally neutralised the value of the fortifications as well as turning out locomotives. here is evidence, if evidence were necessary, of germany's deliberate intent to make war in its own good time; not merely to defend german frontiers, but to attack and reduce a neighbouring state by the use of methods which any nation save this one would regard as too dishonourable for use. since the system of espionage has reached to such lengths as this, it will be seen that the stories of spies and their work, in which the public delights, are built up out of the doings of comparatively innocent agents, who are credited with dangerous tendencies and many melodramatic and impossible actions. that minor plans and persons do exist is certain, but for the most part the spying of which the public hears is merely incidental to the great whole--a whole composed for the most part of far different elements from the clerks, hotel-waiters, and other minor incidentals on which the imagination is fed, in order that the reality may more easily escape detection. there are in existence many books purporting to tell the actual work of spies and to expose the system under which these spies work, but it may be said at the outset that no full exposure of the spy system of germany has ever been made. stieber, in his memoirs, told exactly what it suited him to tell, but he did not give away any essential secrets of organisation, nor has any other writer done this, up to the present. all that we have in the way of real evidence consists in things as well attested by fact and result as the incident of maubeuge and the gun-platforms, related above; in selections from the memoirs of spies of those portions which bear in themselves evidence of truth, and in reports of police-court proceedings in england and france. from these sources we can piece together a fairly accurate conception of the whole business of the spy; but, as regards books purporting to detail the experience of spies, or the character of the organisation under which they work, we must accept these experiences and the rest with all possible reserve, remembering that, the more melodramatic and the more plausible they may be, the more they should be questioned as regards accuracy. moreover, there is sufficient evidence to show that the system is so extensive, and that its ramifications are so far-reaching, that no one book could contain all details of the various kinds of work entailed on the german spy system. it is possible only, in a book dealing with the system, to indicate the main lines on which spies in connection with military and naval matters work, and to give some concrete examples of their failures and successes. naturally, there is far more material available as regards failures, for the work of the successful spy is of such a nature that it rarely comes to light; it is more often unheard of until, as in the case of the gun-platforms constructed in time of peace about maubeuge, the work itself is put to use. chapter two. stieber. those who label stieber as "von" in speaking of him are about on a level with any who would choose to confer on crippen, of unlamented memory, the title of baronet, for the two pretensions are about equal, so far as right to them is concerned. karl stieber was born at mersebourg, a town of saxony in prussia, in the year . his parents were people of the middle class, good and inconspicuous prussians who destined their son for the profession of the law, in which he qualified as a barrister, but in which he achieved no distinction. it was not until , when he was nearly thirty years of age, that stieber first came to notice. in that year he obtained employment in the factory of schoeffel brothers in silesia, where the socialistic movement that has gained so great a hold on modern germany was even then beginning. stieber, seeming to throw in his lot with the workmen, was in reality waiting to see which way the cat would jump before he compromised himself beyond withdrawal from either side. in the meantime, he won the heart of a daughter of one of the directors of the firm, and displayed his abilities in the matter of espionage by compromising the other director--his future wife's uncle--in the socialistic movement to such an extent that the unfortunate man was accused of plotting against the government and inciting the workmen to revolt. by his denunciation of schoeffel, who was sentenced to a year's imprisonment for acts which stieber himself had committed, stieber procured employ in the police service, entering the ranks of the revolutionary workmen ostensibly as one of the warmest adherents of the popular movement, but in reality its worst and most insidious enemy. in this guise he succeeded, in the course of popular and excited demonstrations in berlin, in attracting the attention of frederick william, the then king of prussia. the year was a time of revolutionary movements, and stieber chose the right side. when, in , the prussian government began the measures of repression which have been continued in the case of the socialist element down to the present day, frederick william appointed stieber to the post of _polizierath_, a position in which he was superior to and beyond control of the commissioner of police. this was the inauguration of the system which stieber perfected. hitherto, military espionage had been in the hands of the military themselves, and, with their customary reverence for precedent, the military were inclined to resent this appointment of an outsider to the control of what had been especially their department. further, the regular police viewed stieber with disfavour--it was not to their liking that an informer such as he should be set over them, and able to work independently of their control. it speaks much for stieber's genius for organisation that he combated both these influences successfully, and established himself--with the aid of royal patronage and protection, of course--at the head of a special organisation which was quite independent of either military or police control. up to the system grew--in his memoirs stieber tells, with a conceit quite in keeping with his other qualities, how he worked on the confidence of his sovereign with minute reports concerning the doings of court personages. he seems, in fact, to have taken pleasure in the recital of his meannesses, which his perverted moral sense caused him to see as exploits worthy of pride. it was as if, having nothing of moment on which to exercise his cunning, he kept himself in practice on anything or anybody that might be at hand. thus until, in , he was charged with the work of extending into neighbouring countries the system he had already perfected in prussia. the cost of the business was charged against "service of the interior," and, in addition to the sum expended on internal espionage, a sum of , pounds was set aside for the campaign which prepared the way for the wars in which prussia rose to the standing of a first-class european power. through the severity of his measures in prussia itself, stieber caused such a popular outcry that he was relieved of his post as chief of police, but bismarck, then coming to power, employed his hound in equally useful work outside the bounds of the kingdom by sending him through bohemia, where, by establishing spies all along the route that the army would have to traverse later, stieber laid the foundations for the campaign that was to end so disastrously for austria at sadowa. by , when the prussian campaign against austria opened, stieber had bohemia so thoroughly planted with spies that every step of the austrian forces was known to their opponents before it was taken, every village had its informer ready for the prussian troops when they entered, and, though the system of mapping out posts of defence and military positions had not then reached to the perfection it has since attained, it may be said that the campaign against austria was half won by stieber before it was entered on by the prussian army. these things have so far passed into history that they have become general knowledge; but how stieber enlisted and placed his spies--the actual routine and full secret of the work--he is careful not to tell. it may be assumed that, among other qualities, he possessed the power of reading his fellows; he was a genius in psychology, and knew his spy when he saw one. hence his success, for which he was made chief of the "active service police," a force never recognised in this way up to his time, and a post created practically by his own ability in his special line of work. from his years of exile he had learned the lesson of dealing as lightly as possible with the people of his own country, and henceforth he associated himself with the development of systems of espionage in other countries, notably in france, where he made all preparations for the war of , and made them so thoroughly that it is common knowledge now how the german invaders knew the country in which they were fighting better than did napoleon's own troops. he worked quite independently of the diplomatic corps, established his own agencies in france, and set up his "fixed posts," in a manner which has survived to some extent up to the present day both as regards france and other countries. at this time the work which he was in process of organising was a thing so new that it received little attention from the french authorities of that day, and the system may be said to have reached its zenith of perfection with the war of , when in every french town and village of the north-east was a "fixed post," or, in plain english, a spy in the pay of the german secret service. so complete was the information furnished that the personal histories of individuals, their failings and eccentricities, were catalogued, and scandal was tabulated in the archives of berlin for use in case it should be required, while fortifications and districts were mapped out with a thoroughness such as the military surveyors of france could not excel. when the war came the prussian troops marched through the country and knew its resources and difficulties even better than the inhabitants themselves. how this was accomplished will be shown later in detail. meanwhile stieber, as privy councillor and confidant of bismarck, gradually overcame the antipathy of the military caste--an antipathy which his useful work in bohemia had gone far to allay. according to the account given in his own memoirs, he discovered that an attempt was to be made on the life of the czar alexander when the latter attended a grand review in company with napoleon at longchamps. it was bismarck who conceived the idea of not only letting the attempt take place, but of frustrating it and having the would-be assassin arrested, since, as bismarck planned, french justice would not impose the capital sentence for the merely attempted crime. the result justified the forecast, for the assassin was not executed--and alexander remembered, when came, that france had let off lightly (from a russian point of view) the man who would have murdered him. in consequence, prussia had nothing to fear and napoleon had nothing to hope from russia when the war began. stieber could have stopped the attempt at assassination, had he chosen; but, by allowing things to fall in the fashion that they did, bismarck made certain that there would be no franco-russian alliance. it was characteristic of prussian diplomacy and prussian methods, and it was a trick after stieber's own heart, as his memoirs show. with this brief and necessarily incomplete sketch of his career up to the personal history of stieber as a man may be said to end, as far as the present german spy system is concerned, for from that point onward the system became of more account than the man. so far, his work was all personal in character; he conducted his own campaign in bohemia, and he organised the french espionage by personal work, but after he became so great a power that the system went on and expanded with him as its head--it was no longer a matter of a man and his work, but a department and its control. its efficiency is largely due to him, even now, and there is no doubt that he brought into working the most perfect methods of espionage ever known. his memoirs must not be taken too literally; it is necessary to read between the lines, for stieber was a man of inordinate vanity--though this never interfered with the efficiency of his work--and, if he is to be believed, there was nobody in all prussia of so much importance as himself. he had no moral sense--it was a quality missed out from his composition altogether, and the memoirs show him as a criminal by instinct, able to gratify criminal impulses by protected acts. for in no other way can be explained his obvious pleasure in the commission of what, under any other circumstances, would rank as crimes, fraudulent and despicable to the last degree. the "syndicalism" of the present day is a realisation of a dream that stieber dreamed--not for the purpose of benefiting the working classes, though, but with a view to rendering an enemy powerless against germany in case of war; the division of the german secret service into two branches, known respectively as the department of political action and the department of espionage proper, was intended by stieber to set up a section, under the former title, which should take advantage of the working classes in france--and in england as well--by causing them to act innocently against the best interests of their country in the belief that they were following out their own ideals and winning freedom for democracy. espionage proper is concerned with more purely military enterprise, and was the earlier creation of this arch-spy. stieber died in , full of honours, and much regretted by those whom he had served. he had done more than any other man to sow dissension between france and russia; he had contributed largely to the humiliation of france, and had made possible the subjugation of austria in a seven weeks' war; he had served his country well, having given it the most effective system of espionage that the world has ever known. if the principle that "the end justifies any means" be accepted, he had done well for prussia before and for germany after--but his place is among the criminals and perverts of the world, not among its great men. chapter three. training. the selection of the higher class of spy, in these days, is very largely a matter of chance. almost in every case the man selected must be bi-lingual, while, if he has three languages at his command, so much the better for him--and for his employers. in purely military espionage, that which concerns plans of fortifications, estimates of strength and movements, topographical surveying, ascertaining the character of officers, and the possibility of influencing them either by bribery or blackmail, and general secret-service work likely to be of service to the great german general staff, capable and clever men must be selected. the "german waiter" of melodramatic fancy has little part in this class of work; for one thing, a waiter has to perform stated work at stated times, and he is liable to suspicion being cast on him if he is a man of irregular habits or is in any way unable to account naturally for his spare time. the clerk in an office is subject to the same disabilities, and as a whole it may be said that the clerk and waiter class, if they are engaged in espionage at all, are the small fry of minor supernumeraries, agents acting on behalf of the spies who pay them, instead of spies in the direct employ of the german government. they are not given such work as would involve their possessing enough knowledge to make them dangerous in themselves, and are not the class whose work need cause uneasiness. the real spy needs all his time and all his freedom of movement, and he is placed in such a position that he has these to the full. his training is a hard schooling of months. to be efficient for his work, he must be a qualified surveyor, able to make plans of areas of ground from observation and often without instruments; he must, at the same time, be a capable photographer, for obvious reasons. he must be able to judge distances under all conditions of weather and light--as an instance of this may be mentioned the fully authenticated case of the spy who was set to study the forth bridge, and who was expected to supply his government with full details of the bridge, of how men could be placed with a view to its instant destruction at a given signal, of the geological nature of the land into which the foundations of the bridge were built, and of the quantities of explosive required to reduce the structure. the man selected to obtain this information had to accomplish his task without arousing suspicion; he had to judge his distances solely by pacing, observing angles, and subsequent triangulation, and in this respect his work was perfectly accurate, for he judged the distances to a matter of yards and heights to the foot. though these coincided with information at the disposal of any member of the public, apparently the great german general staff placed no faith in published information, or at least wanted it confirmed. further, the military spy must know units of the british army at sight, and must have at hand if not actually in his mind the code-word by which each unit is tabulated at berlin. he must know the code-words, also, for various patterns of gun, must be conversant with classes of explosive and patterns of shell, and must be able, if luck and his own ingenuity should favour him, to carry in his mind sufficient of the nature and plan of a fortification to be able to draw a map of the work to scale, as nearly as possible, from memory. in all purely technical details of his work the military spy is trained in matters military before he sets out on the smallest piece of work, and he passes examinations just as a member of the military service would, except that his examinations are stiffer than those of the officer, and he is required to know all where the officer is only asked to acquire a part. for, in technical matters, the military spy must never be at a loss; he must be able to place guns and men, works and engineering details, with accuracy, since misinformation is worse than none. in the actual method employed in obtaining information much is left to the judgment of the spy. it is a platitude that no two battles are ever identical in character, and thus the plans of military commanders must vary with the line of country, the strength of the forces engaged, and many other points: in the same way the spies who pave the way for germany's soldiers are never confronted by the same conditions twice, and they must adapt their methods to fit the circumstances of each case. in this, the more delicate and difficult part of their work, no amount of training can avail them, but all depends on their natural ability to make use of men and circumstances, a quality which is more to be classed as work than as training, since it is either part of the composition of a man, or is definitely lacking and not to be imparted by any training. naval spying is practically analogous with military work in character, except that all the training must be devoted to familiarity with the details of naval work and construction--in the matter of coast fortifications, the work of naval and military spies overlaps to a certain extent. but, in addition to coast defence works and dockyards, which call for the activities of both naval and military spies, there are the details of every class of battleship to be learned. topography is the first point, common to both branches, and trigonometry is an accessory to this, practically. but naval construction and drawing are peculiar to the naval spy, who is handed on to the care of an expert officer of the german naval intelligence department, as a rule, and so familiarised with the details of various classes of torpedoes, mines, submarines, and guns, that he is able to recognise any one of these things at a glance, and tell the particular class and power which it represents. further, the naval spy is made acquainted with the build and outline of every class of naval vessel in the world. he is first schooled in the details of the various battleships, cruisers, and smaller craft belonging to the great powers, and, later, is taught to recognise these vessels by silhouettes, from which he gains sufficient knowledge to recognise any ship either by day or night--assuming that the night is of such a character that the ship is at all visible. he studies uniforms and insignia of rank, signals and codes, and at the end of his training is a fully qualified naval officer so far as the theory of naval matters goes. in the yards of wilhelmshaven and kiel is opportunity of putting his knowledge to the test, and he has to satisfy his examiners on all the points on which he has been coached. with regard to diplomatic espionage, the coaching bestowed on the two branches already mentioned is not undertaken, for the diplomatic spy--in the narrower sense of the phrase, since all spies must be extremely diplomatic--is chosen, as a rule, from among the ranks of naval and military spies. in order to undertake diplomatic missions, and supplement the work of the german embassies in the various european centres, a spy must be a very good man indeed, as far as his work is concerned. he must be as was stieber, absolutely ruthless and without scruple; he must be a good linguist, a man of good presence and address, and a tactful man as well. the corps of diplomatic spies is a small one, for this work is the best paid of all, the most delicate and intimate of all, and it is not a class of work of which there could ever be enough for a large staff, even in the state of european politics that existed at the outbreak of this last german war, since the diplomats of germany are themselves sufficient, as a rule, for all needs of this kind. the diplomatic spy is called in for services which a diplomat is unable to undertake, and also as a check on the work of diplomats--he is, as it were, a member of a system which assures the efficiency of the diplomatic system. his training lies in the commissions entrusted to him in military and naval capacities: by super-excellence in the performance of his duties in these departments, he shows himself sufficiently able and efficient to warrant his being trusted with less obvious and more confidential tasks. he works, as do all the members of the german spy system, independently of all other workers for the good of the state. for in every case the spy works alone, lest in compassing his own downfall he should bring about that of others as well. this was a principle inaugurated by stieber, who believed in trusting no man more than was absolutely unavoidable. it must not be thought, from these few details of the training given to the official spies of the german system, that every member of the espionage corps is thus trained. training such as is detailed here is only for the chief spies, the picked men who accomplish great things; few men could come out satisfactorily from the examinations set to these military and naval spies--few men, that is, of the class from which spies are recruited. the spies at "fixed posts," for instance, get very little training, since their duties do not involve nearly as much technical work as do those of the travelling members of the fraternity. since much of the total of about , pounds per annum known to be distributed among the members of the german secret service (in addition to the probably larger sum of which no records are available) goes to the occupants of these fixed posts, it is obvious that the highly trained spy is in the minority. the highly trained spy, however, forms the nucleus and head of the system--he is a superior officer to the fixed post man or german tutor in a foreign family. the military and naval branches of the service are controlled by the great german general staff, while the diplomatic branch is controlled direct by the german foreign office, and, although recruited from among the military and naval branches, is independent of general staff control. these divisions of the system must be taken as only approximate, for they interlink and work in and out each other to such an extent that no definite line can be drawn between them as regards actual work. they are all extensions of the plans that stieber planned, and in all that pertains to the work of german espionage his hand is evident, his work persists, more than twenty years after his death. here a word on the influence of prussian militarism may well be spoken, for the influence of that cast-iron administration is evident even in the organisation of the secret service of germany. it is now twenty-two years since stieber passed out from the system, but so unimaginative is the militarist rule of german statecraft that stieber's ways have not been improved on. they have been altered in minor details, but the plan has been retained, and, though it may be urged that since stieber's system was the most perfect known there was no need to change it, yet the passing of years has revealed many of the details of that system, and it would have been better for germany if the espionage system had been more flexible, more experimental. though the very inner workings of stieber's system are secrets from ordinary people to this day, they are no secrets from other governments; the german methods have been copied and improved on by more than one government, and in some things germany, which had the only perfect system of espionage in , is actually behind the rest of the world now. for craft has been met with craft, and while the protective measures of other nations have advanced, germany has stood still. with regard to matters military, beyerling emphasises this fully in his book, "jena or sedan?" but, of course, no emphasis has been possible in the case of the spy system. yet evidence is afforded in the trial of karl gustav ernst at bow street, to which further reference will be made later, and in many other cases which prove that german spies are known and their methods known to the governments of other countries, where ample protective measures have been taken. the character of the spy himself is such that changes in the system which controls him are necessary--constant changes--but the mould in which the german mind is shaped is such that this fact has never been sufficiently appreciated, even by the great german general staff. the german spy system is still a dangerous organisation, but there are others equally well planned and equally efficient. had there been another stieber to take control, germany might still have had the only perfect system of espionage; but such genius as he displayed only comes once to a people in a century, and a second stieber has yet to be found in germany to make its secret service as efficient as in the days when stieber maintained control. chapter four. military spies. the german system of military espionage can best be studied by an analysis of the working of the system in france from the year onwards. so far as the outside world is concerned, the military invasion of france by germany began at the end of july , but in reality the invasion began in the latter half of , when stieber, chief of the german secret police, began the placing of his fixed posts throughout the country. no less than , spies were placed in the departments of northern and eastern france, and the feats of this army made possible the work accomplished by von moltke. in his memoirs stieber relates how bismarck, when informed that jules favre wished to negotiate for the surrender of paris in , sent for stieber and instructed him that favre was to be kept under observation while negotiations were in progress. bismarck and favre met at versailles, where, on favre's arrival, he was escorted to a carriage driven by one of stieber's men, and was driven to an establishment on the boulevard du roi. this, though favre was ignorant of the fact, was the headquarters of the german active service police. favre was courteously received, and presented with a body-servant to whom the highest accomplishments were accredited. the body-servant was none other than stieber himself. favre lodged in this house throughout all the negotiations for the surrender of paris. so far as favre knew, the owner of the house was a good parisian and a resident of versailles; in reality the place was the headquarters of the german secret-service system, and its owner was one of the fixed spies placed by stieber before the war began, and thus ready to afford all information with regard to his own district to the german forces on their arrival. for the period of favre's stay, stieber waited on him hand and foot, attending to his meals, to his bedroom and clothing, and performing all the duties of a valet. under this pretext it was perfectly easy for stieber to ransack all favre's clothing luggage, and personal equipment, and the arch-spy claims in his memoirs that much of the information he obtained in this way was extremely useful to bismarck during the negotiations on which the conclusion of peace was based. certain proposals made by the minister of the interior during this period in which stieber was at the head of the secret police are worth quoting with regard to the establishment of spies throughout france, subsequent to the war of , in order that strict watch might be kept on the conquered country. the proposals were as follows: "all the fixed agents must hold not merely salaried positions (that is, in offices, workshops, etc), for they might at any time be dismissed from their posts, and in that case would no longer have any plausible reason for remaining at their points of observation. such positions, too, possess considerable disadvantage for our agents, in that they restrict their actions and hamper their freedom of going and coming, and bring them too much under notice. "for these reasons, it must be laid down as a condition of the employment of a spy that he shall be obliged to keep some kind of an establishment, which he may select so long as it is, at least externally, thoroughly in keeping with the commercial or other requirements of the country in which he is engaged. whatever establishment it be, whether an office for the settlement of disputed claims, or a property register, or a business of a purely commercial land, such as groceries, cafes, restaurants, hotels, etc, it must be soundly established and possess a substantial good-will. "it must be borne in mind that it is necessary for our agents to inspire confidence in circles where they have their centre of action, and to inspire that confidence by outward indications of a commonplace bourgeois existence; by tactful charity and by making themselves useful in societies, associations, communities, and so forth; and by acquiring strong social positions, so that they may be well received and regarded in all quarters. "while we must limit the expenditure which our agents are permitted to incur, it is necessary that we should give them absolute assurance that any deficit of the undertaking which they carry on would be made good by the service under the head of general expenses." since the annual expenditure of germany for work of this kind is admitted to amount to , pounds a year, it may be gathered that the espionage service is a complete one. the sum stated is admittedly spent; how much more is spent it is impossible to conjecture. the spies placed at fixed posts are given salaries varying between two and four pounds a week according to the importance of the post and the duties which the spy is expected to perform. to this is added any out-of-pocket expenses to which the spy may be put in the maintenance of his business or position. these spies at fixed posts are under the control of headquarters at brussels, lausanne, and geneva, whence their salaries are paid monthly under the form of business remittances. there is also a system of inspectorship by means of which each fixed post is visited at regular intervals, either by women or by professed commercial travellers, who collect the written reports in order to avoid possible inspection of these reports by the french postal authorities. further, this system admits of instructions being given verbally by the travelling inspector to the spy at each fixed post. at the outbreak of the present war the number of fixed spies known to exist in france was over , . the recruiting of this army of spies was begun by stieber in , when he requested that there should be sent, to the fourteen departments of france in which occupation was essential to the success of a german attack, about , farmers, agricultural labourers, and others who should be permanently employed in the several districts, together with an even larger number of women servants to be placed among the various classes of the french population. these, however, were to receive pay from ordinary french commercial sources, and were to be under the control of the higher grade of spies established in businesses or otherwise independently employed at the fixed posts. the latter were specially chosen from among people of teutonic origin, not only in germany, but also in switzerland and belgium, whence they were sent to take up their posts after receiving the necessary preliminary training to fit them for their work. the occupant of a fixed post at the present time, whether in france or any other country, is nearly always a german, and has at his beck and call a host of other emigrants from germany, who are legitimately employed in various capacities, have had no government training, and expect no fixed salary for their work. they are the small fry of the business, and do not come into contact with any higher officials than the fixed agent, who enables them to supplement their legitimate salaries by retailing bits of slander and gossip. the absence of one or more of them would make no difference to the system; as a matter of patriotism, they simply retail what they hear to a fellow-countryman, and, in this sense, every german in a foreign country may be reckoned as a spy, though for official purposes only a certain number of secret-service agents exist. the recognised agent is placed at some point at which he is able to maintain espionage over a garrison, a military post, or something connected with the defensive or offensive organisation of the country concerned. his business at the outset is to be thoroughly agreeable and make himself well liked in the circle in which he moves. assuming that he is located in a small garrison town, he sets up a business of some kind which will give him admittance to military circles, and, no matter how bad times may be, his business goes on. in the meantime he contributes unostentatiously to charities, attends all entertainments, and does his best to make himself and his business known in the community of which he is a member. sooner or later, he makes friends out of one or two of his acquaintances; so far as can be seen he leads a benevolent, open, harmless sort of existence, and is a thoroughly good fellow, and eventually he gains close contact with some member of the garrison, either officer or non-commissioned officer. in the latter case, the spy will take care that the non-commissioned officer is in some position of trust where he is able to obtain useful information. so far as his friends are concerned, the spy proves to be not entirely ignorant of matters military. he manifests a mild interest in drill, formation of troops, fortifications, guns, etc, but he is not in any way keen over these matters. like any other inhabitant of the country in which he resides, he is willing to discuss the "shop" matters of his associates, and will even indulge in mild arguments, making mistakes and submitting to correction from those more experienced. gradually he gets more and more into the confidence of his friends, who, while they reveal nothing of importance, let fall a word here and a word there in his hearing, knowing him to be thoroughly trustworthy; out of these various words a fairly detailed report can be compiled. in the meantime, the small fry of the business are constantly bringing gossip. if a new gun is to be mounted, the spy hears about it; if the strength of the garrison is to be altered, the spy is cognisant of the fact; sooner or later, he gets to know domestic details with regard to the officers of the garrison. a certain lieutenant drinks too much, or a captain is very fond of a hand at cards; in the former case the spy is quite willing to drink level with the lieutenant, and in the latter he is willing to lose money to the captain, such money being put down to special expenses, and accounted for in his monthly statement. it will be seen that in such simple ways these the fixed agent is able to obtain an immense amount of personal and other information by perfectly simple methods. it may be urged that the greater part of this information could be obtained in legitimate ways and with no expense to the german government; but the system which stieber inaugurated is above all things thorough, and there is a system at berlin of tabulating and card-indexing all information received from fixed posts; of analysing, checking, and comparing, until absolute certainty is reached with regard to the accuracy of detail. for instance, a certain newspaper may announce that the armament of certain fortifications has been increased by a new four-inch gun. a fixed agent will add to this information the position of gun, weight of shell, rate of fire per minute, name of officer in control, and the fact that it is mounted on a disappearing platform--details which are noted and checked with a view to their possible usefulness in the future. the extent of this usefulness may be estimated when the fall of namur or maubeuge is recalled. the officers in control of the attacking german batteries knew exactly how many guns they had to silence, the position, bore, and rate of fire of these guns, and the points at which their own batteries could best be placed, with a view to fire effect and invisibility. in the case of maubeuge they knew more: they knew where to find the necessary concrete platforms on which to place their own heavy artillery, in order to silence the french guns--and this must be attributed to the development of the system of fixed posts. not only does the great german general staff know details of fortifications and technical matters, but it is also kept posted up in the character and abilities of officers who come under the observation of the fixed agent. reports sent in to headquarters are concerned with personal peculiarities and scandals to an extent undreamed of by the persons concerned. if any officer is open to bribery, the fact is ascertained; if any officer's wife is open to blackmail, the blackmail is instituted, and the price of silence in every case is information with regard to matters of which the husband is cognisant. further, the topographical information supplied includes details of the nature and state of roads, telegraphs, bridges, depths of rivers and streams, positions of fords, nature and condition of every building and farm, supplies of forage and food, horses available, and every detail which is likely to be of service. the ordnance-maps supplied to german officers are marvels of map-making; every insignificant cottage, stile, clump of trees, and peculiarity of the landscape is indicated, and, by the use of maps of this kind, the march on paris in was carried through without a hitch. in like manner, all preparations for the prussian advance through belgium, and the projected victorious march on paris, were made and completed years ago, with the assistance of the fixed agents. the german entry into brussels, when , men marched through a strange city without the slightest confusion, has been described as a triumph of organisation. this it undoubtedly was; but the credit did not lie with the military commander, for the agents who had been busy through many months preparing the way of the army were responsible for that army's successful advance. officers had only to follow detailed instructions presented to them by headquarters. with equal care the entry to paris was planned: quarters were assigned to each regiment of the invading army; each officer knew exactly the part that would be his in the spectacle, and every step of the entry to the french capital had been arranged in detail by german fixed agents, who had resided for many years in northern france, and in paris itself, as peaceful citizens. reports of german occupation of french towns and even photographs from the theatre of war draw attention to various houses on which has been chalked--"spare this house." in many cases, doubtless, this is intended as a return for unexpectedly hospitable reception, but in many other cases it indicates that the house in question was the residence of a fixed agent, to whom german officers came on their entry to the place in order to learn all that was possible with regard to resources of the town or village, and all that could be told of the movements of the enemy. it has been urged, and with apparent reason, that the value of espionage ceases as soon as armies take the field, since the work of the spy can only concern preparations for hostilities, and, when war has begun, actual strength decides the issue. this, however, is not the case when german military espionage is in question; in many cases the fixed agents have been so long established at their posts that they rank in the eyes of normal inhabitants as a part of the life of the place, and, by maintaining their positions, they are able to ascertain for the benefit of their own commanders particulars of the dispositions of hostile forces. elaborate systems of signalling are in use; carrier pigeons are used, but only to a limited extent; the ways of the red indians, who made the most perfect spies ever known, are copied in indicating events by the movement of stones, chipping of bark on trees, breaking branches, and other ways little likely to be detected, while the more civilised method of lamp-signalling is also practised. altogether, the german military spy forms a very efficient and formidable part of the german military force, both before and after the opening of hostilities. his value decreases to a certain extent when action has been entered on, and, in a definite battle like those along the line of the meuse and the line of the aisne, he is practically useless, but in case of an advance on the part of the german forces he is invaluable, by reason of the information he can give with regard to the nature of the country and the dispositions of the retreating army. chapter five. naval espionage. the routine of naval espionage is very similar in character to that followed by military spies. the naval spy, however, must be a rather more intelligent and highly trained man than his military confrere, and cases that have come to light prove that his position is one of more responsibility, and that he is entrusted with more funds for the carrying out of his work. it is an interesting fact that, for many years past, officers and men of the german naval service have been employed along the east coast of england in compiling extremely detailed plans of places and fortifications. the accuracy of these plans is ascertained by persistent redrawing done by new members of the naval espionage staff, and all changes in building, roadmaking, bridge-construction, and as far as possible the interior work of fortifications, are duly recorded on the berlin maps. not that this information is of definite working value at the present time, but the principle of secret-service headquarters is that no item is too trivial for record, and information is acquired without regard to its direct uses, but in view of the fact that it may possibly be of some use at a future date. the adoption of such a principle involves an immense amount of work in checking and sorting the masses of information obtained, but beyond doubt the principle itself has gone far to assure such successes as german arms have obtained, either on land or at sea. in addition to the work of fixed naval posts, stationed at dockyards and harbours, the work of spies at sea must not be overlooked, either in time of peace or in war. in the former case an innocent-looking trawler or private yacht is useful for taking soundings, ascertaining channels, and even locating naval mines used for purposes of harbour defence and fired by land contact. in time of war the services which may be performed by such vessels are even more valuable; the reports of the sinking of three british cruisers by german submarine attack are fairly unanimous with regard to the presence of a trawler in the vicinity of the spot at which the engagement took place. all that can be definitely learned with regard to this trawler is that she was not a british boat, and it is reasonable to assume that her business consisted in signalling to the submarines particulars which they may have been unable to obtain themselves, or in shielding them from sight during their approach towards the cruisers. although there are no substantial proofs of this assumption, it is hardly likely that the vessel was a trawler engaged in usual and legitimate business. the work of the naval spy in time of peace is best illustrated by the record of cases which have actually come to light through actions taken in the courts. one noteworthy case is that of sub-lieutenant ullmo, a gifted naval officer of the french service, serving in the republican warship _carabine_. ullmo was an officer of undoubted ability, but he came under the influence of a female spy, known to him and his fellows as lison, who persuaded him to set up an establishment for her and managed to secure his assent to a plan by which this establishment, maintained at his expense, was to be converted into an opium-den. so great an ascendancy did lison gain over her victim that in a period of two years he had spent , pounds, which was all that was his in the way of capital and income apart from his pay. his position in the service rendered money a necessity, and, once his private fortune was gone, lison pointed out to him that more money could be obtained. as soon as she spoke of the means by which he could obtain money he repudiated the suggestion, but, by working on his jealousy with regard to her acquaintance with a brother officer, she secured his consent to a bargain by which he was to give up the secret documents kept in a safe on board his ship, in return for a price which was fixed at more than ten times his previous competence. the bargain was to be arranged by the medium of advertisements, and it was through the wording of these advertisements that the plot was detected by the french secret service. ullmo's reward for his treachery was degradation from his rank and imprisonment for life, and lison put in an appearance at his trial in order to watch the proceedings as an uninterested spectator. the system of counter-espionage thus evidenced on the part of a foreign government has its counterpart in the british service. since britain is the most powerful enemy germany has to fear in a naval sense, it follows that german naval espionage is principally directed against britain, and that the establishment of naval spies is greater in this country than in any other. it is safe to say, however, that the majority of the fixed posts of the german naval service in britain are known to the police, and that, as soon as information which, in the opinion of the british naval authorities, is of value, is in danger of being communicated to germany, action is taken to prevent the transmission of the spies' reports to headquarters. a case in point is that of doctor max schulz, who, charged with espionage at devon assizes, was sentenced to a year and nine months' imprisonment for acts attempted rather than acts committed. according to his own account, schulz became implicated in the work of the military branch of the german secret service in , when he was engaged to obtain reports about british military and naval affairs for statistical purposes. although no more was said, there can be no doubt that schulz realised quite well the nature of the work he was undertaking, especially as, on the evidence of sir rufus isaacs, who prosecuted at the trial, he was able to offer pounds a year to a british subject for continuous information of a confidential character. he began his career as a spy by ineffectual work in ireland, following up this by a visit to toulon, still in search of information. after various adventures, he returned in to plymouth, and thence went for a trip up the river yealm on a yacht called the _egret_; here, according to the evidence of crown witnesses for the prosecution, he was visited by a mr duff and a mr tarrant, to whom he made overtures with regard to the obtaining of information concerning naval matters. the charges against schulz, as outlined by the attorney-general in opening the case, were four in number. the first charge was that, in the summer of : "he, at the borough of plymouth, having possession or control over knowledge which had been obtained by means of an act which constituted an offence against the official secrets act, communicated or attempted to communicate the same to a person to whom the same ought not in the interest of the state to be communicated at the time." the second charge amplified the first in that schulz was accused of having intended to communicate his illegally gained knowledge to the government of a foreign state. the third and fourth counts against him were that he had "endeavoured to procure samuel hugh duff and edward charles tarrant respectively to communicate to him information relating to the naval affairs of his majesty which ought not in the interests of the state to be communicated to any person." sir rufus isaacs stated, in his outline of the case for the prosecution, that schulz had offered duff a salary of pounds a year, with a possibility of this sum being doubled, for confidential information. schulz alleged that the confidential information in question would be published in a german newspaper, but, at the time of schulz's arrest, there had been found in his possession a letter which proved the purpose for which the information was required. one passage of the letter which was read in court is enlightening as regards the detailed information required of german naval spies. the passage is as follows: "how do matters stand with the commander and lieutenant respectively? can nothing at all be expected from them? reserve officers are no use. they do not procure any valuable secrets because they do not have access to them. confidential books and reports are what is wanted, and what you must procure at all costs if our relations are to continue." sir rufus isaacs stated, and the evidence proved, that a man named tobler, who did not visit england, kept schulz supplied with money. a number of telegrams were produced, written in code, of which the prosecution had found the key. the deciphered telegrams read: "in greatest danger. wire immediately pounds." "in greater trouble and danger. all prepared for departure. wire immediately pounds and date of meeting." instructions from tobler to schulz included a list of questions which schulz was to put to mr duff, and the list included the following: i. are officers or men granted leave, or have those on leave possibly been recalled? ii. is there any sign of coals, stores, ammunition, etc, being accumulated? iii. what is the feeling in naval circles? iv. how do officers and men discuss the situation? v. are crews being increased, are ships being prepared, or has commissioning of ships suddenly taken place? these questions, the attorney-general pointed out, were intended as tests for mr duff. other questions, put apparently with more serious intent, included the following: i. what is the opinion of officers of the british navy as to the result of war between england and france, on the one hand, and germany on the other, and the likelihood of the same over the morocco question? ii. what ships of the third division were put out of service on july , or about the end of july, or have reduced their crews, and the reasons for so doing? iii. how many officers and men are still on board, and why was the programme altered after it was stated that the third division should be full up? before answering these questions mr duff communicated with the police, and it was stated in the initial proceedings against schulz that, if british people usually acted in the way that mr duff and mr tarrant had done, and in the way that detective-sergeant martin, whom they consulted, had acted, england would have nothing to fear from any system of espionage. the evidence given by mr tarrant went to show that schulz had offered him a salary of pounds a month for acting as "military and naval correspondent" to a german paper, for which schulz was to act as agent and intermediary. the only defence set up was to the effect that schulz was a _bona-fide_ journalist, and had no ulterior motive in attempting to obtain information. the tobler correspondence was too strong evidence to the contrary, and the well-merited sentence of a year and nine months' imprisonment in the second division was imposed. it is characteristic of the german spy system that, after his release from jail, schulz was disowned by his previous employers. later cases, like that of ernst, to which reference will be made later, go to prove that both in england and france a system of counter-espionage has been organised, which goes far to neutralise such efforts as that detailed above. so persistent is the german thirst for information that one man who came into the british courts as defendant had actually received payment from german sources for information which he was virtually proved to have obtained from whittaker's almanac and like sources. this, however, only goes to show that the object of the german secret service is to check such information as it may receive, by means of duplicate and triplicate reports. there is little likelihood of the system of german naval espionage having any definite effect in england until an invasion has been successfully accomplished, for there is a wide difference between learning the strength of a coast defence and overcoming that defence. both in naval and military matters, also, the plan has long since been adopted of changing orders at irregular intervals, so that, in case of active service requirements, the strength and dispositions of the forces vary from month to month and even from week to week. signal and telegraphic codes are changed, routine is altered, and, altogether, such differences are effected in various ways that information supplied by spies one week may be quite valueless the next. not that it is advisable to underrate the spy peril or the value of the german system, but at the same time it is equally unwise to overrate the possibilities of the system. were another stieber forthcoming, germany might yet accomplish all that it set out to do with the assistance of its secret service; but, under present conditions, such success is extremely unlikely. chapter six. diplomatic espionage. the way in which stieber, as body-servant to jules favre, was able to assist in the negotiations for the surrender of paris in has already been detailed, and this forms a fair sample of what can be done in the way of diplomatic espionage, as distinctly apart from the gaining of purely military information or details of a definite naval character. but it is only one instance; the spy in the employ of the german foreign office is capable of making himself useful in many ways, and into this class of work also the influence of women enters to a very large extent. the woman spy of fiction, though not absolutely a myth, is very rare indeed. the siren of beauty and wit, mysterious as she is fascinating, makes a very pretty picture for a sensational melodrama; but it must be fairly obvious, on reflection, that she would defeat her own ends by the very mystery that is popularly supposed to surround her. further, diplomats entrusted with confidential and delicate tasks are hard-headed men of the world, capable of seeing through the wiles of such dames of mystery as the fiction-writer would have us believe in, existing in the highest society and able to subjugate a man by a glance. a story has recently been told to the effect that one of these charming adventuresses was able to spoil the work of no less a person than a russian ambassador, the said ambassador being a man of mature years and such judgment as one would expect in the holder of the power that he represented. the spy alleged that the lady in question was able by her charms to throw the ambassador entirely off his guard, so that his mission was spoiled and he incurred imperial displeasure and lost his post. it is a pretty story, and would pass well as an effort of imagination; the only trouble is that the alleged confessions of the spy include this pretty story as truth, which it most distinctly is not. the affairs of nations are not conducted in such a manner as this, for there is sufficient wisdom in the various courts of europe to recognise the existence of all dangers, and to impose on their representatives such safeguards as shall neutralise the attempts that may be made at spoiling treaties and sowing discord by means of pretty women and susceptible men. the reason for the telling of such stories lies in their being extremely plausible, extremely attractive, and extremely saleable. real diplomatic spying is a much more sordid and much meaner business than the fiction-writer places before his or her readers. it consists in listening at doors, reading and replacing letters, and tricks of the kind which would be perfectly obvious if the person spying were not so thoroughly trustworthy--to outside appearance. the diplomatic spy may be a servant, a military attache, a courier in the ostensible service of a government--he may be anything, but always he is a supremely trustworthy person, one who has no need to conceal the fact that he is highly intelligent and well fitted for his post, whatever that may be. his reputation among the people with whom he is brought in contact may be and usually is a matter of years' standing, for only the absolute assurance of his honesty enables him to carry on his work. it is the recognised duty of all ambassadors, military and naval attaches, and consuls, to collect information in any possible way, and to pay for it, and it may be guessed that their staff of informers is a large one. further, under the heading of diplomatic spies must be included the internal espionage of germany, by means of which all the various members of the royal family at berlin are kept under surveillance and reported on. potsdam neglects nothing in this way, as the memoirs of louise of saxony prove beyond dispute. some time ago the head official of the system of internal espionage in germany was exposed at the height of his success, and thus an idea of the actual working and extent of the system was rendered obtainable. the person in question, colonel baron von tausch, established on his own account a _bureau d'espionage_, and carried his investigations to such a point that the minister of foreign affairs, after having made representations to the kaiser, took action against von tausch for libel and conspiracy. from evidence made public at the trial it appeared that von tausch, who wished to obtain information for his master with regard to the nationalist movement in prussian poland, had ordered baron von luetzow to win the affections of the daughter of a polish noble who was in the front of the nationalist movement, and, by this means, to gain the confidence of the girl's father. luetzow complied, won the heart of the girl and the confidence of her father, and then returned to berlin, leaving the girl behind. this was one instance of the methods used to obtain information. correspondence, produced in court, introduced into the case the name of count philip zu eulenberg, sometime german ambassador at vienna. eulenberg, one of the boy-friends of the kaiser, developed into a moral degenerate, and the whole of the berlin court--at least, all that part of it which had the best interests of the kaiser and the empire at heart--deplored the retention of eulenberg in the imperial favour. in eulenberg's degeneracy was exposed by maximilian harden, editor of _die zukunft_, who was prosecuted for his audacity in attacking one of the emperor's friends, and forced the prosecution to withdraw by stating that he had enough correspondence in his possession to ruin the reputations of members of the imperial family and half the officers of the imperial guards. the correspondence produced at von tausch's trial was chiefly noteworthy for a letter addressed by the chief of the secret police to eulenberg, in which the former claimed that he had successfully accomplished espionage work which, he hoped, would have the effect of mining the foreign minister for good. shortly after, as evidence showed, eulenberg sent to von tausch the ribbon of a high austrian order which had been presented by the austrian government, evidently as recognition of services performed in connection with the german foreign minister. numerous scandals were brought to light, all proving that no trick or subterfuge had been too low for von tausch's stooping. it was shown, for instance, that prince egon hohenlohe, as bad a character as eulenberg, had conceived a dislike for one of the chamberlains employed in the establishment of the duke of saxe-coburg-gotha. he therefore set von tausch to work at ferreting out this man's humble antecedents, which were then published anonymously in various german papers. the result was a public scandal, and the unfortunate man had to resign his post in consequence. various other people had discovered that von tausch was equal to practically any task of spying with which they cared to entrust him, and, as each one rewarded his efforts with some kind of decoration in addition to more substantial payment, he appeared in court loaded with insignia of various orders. naturally, his appearance as defendant in a libel case caused consternation in berlin, for there was no telling where the revelations concerning his doings would end. eventually the matter was brought to the notice of the kaiser himself, and, when the intolerable pride of wilhelm is taken into account, it is easy to understand that he took all possible steps to prevent further revelations concerning the internal espionage maintained on his court and relatives from coming to light. von tausch was, in the first place, under the orders of the kaiser himself, and, were more revelations to be made, there was no telling how much of the servant's doings would be attributed to orders from the master. conviction was impossible, for von tausch knew too much to permit of his being made the enemy of the imperial court by imprisonment, or in fact by any punishment. still, after dismissal from the bar of the ordinary tribunal, he was tried as a bavarian before a court of honour, and was adjudged to have been guilty of conduct so unbecoming to one in his position as to render him unfit for further service. as a man unfit to associate with gentlemen, he was expelled from the service in disgrace. but wilhelm remembered his faithful servant after the court of honour had finished with him. von tausch was retired into private life with the honours of a diplomatic servant on the retired list; that is to say, he was at liberty to enjoy his very adequate pension, together with such fortune as he had contrived to amass during his term of service as chief of the secret police. von tausch is typical of the german service of internal espionage; there is nothing romantic about his work, nothing that is worthy of memory or that shows him in other than a detestable light--and yet the german courts are constantly under such supervision as he maintained, and with the full concurrence and encouragement of wilhelm, who believes in vigilance at the cost of honour and of everything that normal men hold as compatible with honour. the private diary of louise of saxony has details of the pettiness and meanness of these agents of discord and destroyers of confidence among the highest personages of german courts. "the king's spy," says the diary, "constituted herself post office of villa foschwitz--a duty appertaining to her rank, and i wager that she works the black cabinet to perfection. [_cabinet noir_. the secret-service headquarters of the german post office.] of course, i am now careful in all that i write, and advise my friends to be. the spy planted in my household has been permitted to see much of the innocent correspondence passing between me and leopold. she has reported that i have turned over a new leaf. result: my debts have been paid. further result: a gracious letter from the king's house marshal praising me for the good influence i am exercising over leopold. truly, the world wants to be deceived." another extract states: "caught the tisch stealing one of my letters. happily there was nothing incriminating in it, though addressed to ferdinand--just the letter the crown princess would write to a privy councillor. but the petty theft indicates that she suspects. prince george, i am told, receives a report from her every day." the note of the diary emphasises the littleness of life that permits of the existence of such a system as this, a perpetual sowing of discord by means of the repetition of tittle-tattle which can have no real bearing on affairs of moment. the lady designated "tisch," by the way, was but a clumsy exponent of her art, for, discovering that her royal mistress kept a diary, she reported the fact to frederick, louise's husband, who taxed his wife with the existence of the diary and its indiscretions. thereupon louise turned upon the tisch, and informed her that, since she was planted in the royal household for the purpose of playing the serpent, she must confine her work to reporting on comings and goings, on external conduct, so far as louise herself was concerned. in every royal household of the empire similar spies are placed, and in every government office as well. every government office is kept open in berlin at all hours of the day and night, and, when the emperor wishes to assure himself that all is working as he would have it, he rings up the particular office from which he requires assurances of efficiency. or, by means of one of the many telephones that are at the disposal of the war lord at all hours, he turns out a garrison at the dead of night, in order to be certain that there is full watchfulness and efficiency there. the idea of being always on the alert, always prepared, is at the root of these tricks, and the secret service for internal espionage is maintained for the same purpose--that the people of the empire and their rulers may be always ready against "the day." an instance of indirect diplomatic espionage is afforded by the publication of one of the plans for the invasion of england, drawn up by baron von edelsheim, a few years ago. edelsheim proposed to turn into england a force of about two hundred to three hundred thousand men, commanded by officers who have _a perfect knowledge of the country_. he says: "the preparation for landing operations must be furthered in time of peace to such an extent that in time of war we may feel sure of having the advantage of surprising the enemy by our celerity in mobilising and transporting our troops. the troops which are to be mobilised must be determined in time of peace, their transport by railway, their harbours of embarkation, and the preparations for embarkation, must be prepared in order to ensure the greatest possible celerity. the aim of our operations must be kept entirely secret, and attempts should be made to deceive the enemy, at least with regard to the purpose for which the first operations are undertaken." now, the publication of such a paragraph as this, with the certainty of its being translated and republished in english, could serve no useful german purpose on the face of it. edelsheim was no theoriser speaking without imperial sanction, or devising a plan apart from the plans of the junker party. he stated the obvious, and moreover stated an obvious thing which on the face of it was not a wise one for the junker party to confess, for, if absolute secrecy were an essential, then the very declaration that such a thing as invasion of england was remotely contemplated was against the spirit of the plan. the publication of the paragraph, we may rest assured, was not decided on without good reason, and edelsheim must rank as a diplomat rather than as a diplomatic spy, for the act comes scarcely under the heading of espionage, widely as that term must be interpreted in the case of the german secret service. as for the diplomatic spy abroad, he is to be found--but not to be recognised--in official circles. it is extremely doubtful whether his pay comes out of the , pounds set apart annually by germany for secret-service purposes, for the pay of such men as are employed in hunting out the secrets of foreign diplomatic circles is necessarily extremely high. with regard to the work itself, very little is known. in the other branches of the german secret-service failures are usually conspicuous by their appearances in police-courts and criminal trials; but this disability seldom enters into the life of the diplomatic spy. in the first place, being a man specially selected from among the ranks of naval and military spies, the diplomatic spy seldom makes mistakes-- seldom, that is, in comparison with members of the other two branches, who also are remarkably careful to avoid errors of judgment; consequently, there are very few chances of detecting diplomatic spies through their failures. in the second place, diplomatic spies, by reason of the nature of their work, do not come into the criminal courts when they make mistakes and get caught--the nature of their work precludes this possibility, for usually their tasks do not involve any infringement of the penal code as this refers to the spy and his work. again, diplomatic spies are so highly placed, and so thoroughly trusted, that to bring on them the punishment of normal criminals would cause too much outcry and scandal; their work is neutralised as far as possible by systems of counter-espionage, and in case of one being detected he simply ceases to be employed by his own government, which disowns all responsibility for his acts. these things render details of the work of diplomatic spies almost impossible to obtain. several books have been published, purporting to detail the work of diplomatic agents, but their contents may be discounted as far as accuracy goes; they make good reading as fiction, and that is all they are, for the most part. if in any stories detailed in them the writers have told the truth, it may be considered a matter of accident. one case, which may be regarded as authentic, is narrated by von blowitz, but it is dated so far back that all the participators in the incident are dead, and it may be said as a whole that the world grows wiser as it grows older, so that the case of which von blowitz speaks is no guide to the doings of to-day. further, that particular case concerns a woman spy, of which class more anon. chapter seven. communications. such reports as the german agents at fixed posts have to make to their employers are communicated, whenever possible, by means of the travelling inspectors, for the postal service is not to be trusted where espionage is concerned. during the french revolution there was originated what was known as the "cabinet noir," or secret service of the post office in france, of which the duties were to intercept, open, and where desirable destroy or replace, such letters as were deemed unfit to reach their senders, in the best interests of the state. berlin, with its genius for developing other people's inventions, adopted this idea, and made of it one of the regular weapons of the secret service. it operates not only internally, but also internationally, and any suspected letters are freely opened and read; sometimes they are suppressed altogether from their recipients; sometimes false letters, giving contrary instructions, are substituted, and suspected spies of other powers are caught by this means. the idea has been generally adopted by most countries; but, in practically any country but germany, the idea of personal and national honour is sufficiently strong to keep absolutely secret the doings behind official doors. for instance, at the trial of the spy ernst at bow street, it came as a surprise to many people to learn that the british postal authorities possessed powers under which they might open any suspected missives, with a view to ascertaining their contents when deemed essential for the safety and well-being of the state. it is common knowledge in germany that no letter is safe from being opened, and the powers which the british post offices exercise only in case of genuine suspicion are utilised in germany to a far greater extent. further, the officials at the berlin post office "cabinet noir" do not always maintain the absolute secrecy that their work demands, and sometimes there creep out details of other things as well as espionage. apparently, every german official has his price in his own country, and the habit of spying is so ingrained in the race that commercial secrets are bought and sold not only in the interests of german firms as a whole, but in the interests of one rival german firm which desires to steal a market from another firm of teutonic name and standing. it appears that stieber, by organising his colossal system of espionage, laid the foundations of national pettiness and deceit--the german character as a whole has been undermined by the knowledge that nobody is safe from espionage, and all acts are liable to be reported, while blackmail is a flourishing industry. in the event of active service, the german system of communication between spies and the army in the field is very largely on the lines laid down by klembovski, whose "military espionage in peace and war" is one of the recognised textbooks on espionage. so clearly and well does klembovski indicate the methods to be followed, that certain passages of his work with regard to this matter of communications are worthy of reproduction as they stand in his original work, in order to assist in a conception of the means employed. it is not always possible, he says, for the spies to report personally to their chief about the results of their investigations; therefore it is of interest to consider the methods of communication by means of which they can forward the required information to the stipulated place. these methods of communication are to be grouped in three divisions, according to their nature: . optical signals; . agreed communications by writing; . despatches in cipher. . _optical signals_.--in operations in heavily wooded districts which obstruct reconnoitring by cavalry, or in the operations of detachments which consist only of infantry, the assurance of guarding against danger which is obtained by means of the despatch of patrols in the direction of the enemy embraces no especially broad stretch in the front of the troops. in such cases the duty of reconnaissance can be allotted to spies, who should collect the simplest and fullest possible information about the enemy. for example: presence or absence of the enemy in certain directions and at certain distances; the approximate strength of his troops; whether the enemy is on the march, at rest, or occupying a position. such information is especially of importance to such detachments as possess cavalry, for the commander of the detachment can, if he has fresh knowledge of the presence and dispositions of the enemy, execute cavalry reconnaissances far better than he could without the knowledge to be obtained by spies. he can estimate the number and strength of the patrols which he intends to send out, and can give them the correct direction of marching to achieve their purpose, etc. for communicating such information the simplest signals are desirable. signals should be employed which on the one hand will not arouse the suspicions of the enemy, and on the other hand will not require special instructions and explanations, and will not occupy too much time either in preparation or sending. if the country to the front of the troops offers a wide view, a spy sent on in advance can make fires, whose number and arrangement has a previously agreed meaning. among the enemy's outposts the making of fires will seldom be practicable, since it would at once arouse suspicion. in these cases the spy can make use of houses which can be seen from a distance on all sides, since the appearance and disappearance of a light in the windows, or the opening and shutting of the shutters, can have a recognised sense and meaning for the troops from whom the spy is sent. optical communication of news is seldom possible in wooded country, or at any rate only if the troops advance, and not if they retreat or remain stationary. in these cases the spy sent in advance can inform the troops by various agreed signs, such as breaking or tying together small trees and branches, moving turf, writing agreed-on signs with chalk on bark of trees, fences, houses, and big stones or rocks. smugglers in some russian districts use little stones, which they put down by the way on single big stones, heaps of earth, and leaves; as the number and position of the stones with regard to one another varies, so the smugglers mutually impart valuable information to each other. this method should be borne in mind for adoption by an army in the field. . _agreed communications by writing_.--in many cases secret communication by writing can be carried on in the guise of quite ordinary correspondence, in which the speech is of trade and family matters, etc, so that a stranger, who was not initiated into the secret meanings of the special words, would attribute no special meaning to them. such letters would be addressed to persons who are prominent through their business in official positions--lesser state officials and merchants, for instance. in july , at the imperial court of justice at leipzig, the trial took place of the alsatians--klein and greber for espionage. in the indictment of the public prosecutor it was said, among other things, that the defendant klein had never been directly in correspondence with the bureau at whose head was colonel vincent, but he knew that his despatches had been communicated to the war office from which colonel vincent took his orders. in order to arouse no suspicion, the correspondence was given the appearance of letters which passed between relatives; herein lay the reason for the constant repetition of christian names, and the good wishes for uncle, aunt, and other persons who certainly did not exist, or under whose names personalities would be understood that were very well-known to the french secret service. usually the sender of such correspondence agrees with the recipient as to the way in which the communications shall be read. for example, in prince conde, who lay in prison on account of participation in the plot against the guises and catherine de medici, received a letter which, perused in the ordinary way, could arouse no suspicion. but, in reading it, conde missed out every other line, obtaining by this means a perfect meaning to fit the situation in which he was placed. there is also a mechanical method of conducting a secret correspondence, for the deciphering of which both sender and recipient must have "castings," or small metal plates exactly similar, which are divided by lines into squares. some of the squares are cut out, the two plates being kept exactly similar and then the sender lays the square plate on the paper and writes his message in his usual writing on the cut-out squares; then he takes the plate from the paper and fills in the empty squares with casually chosen words, taking care, however, that some meaning is made from the double writing, so as to replace the real meaning when the plate is applied. on receipt of the letter the addressee lays his square on it, and comfortably reads everything that interests him, since the superfluous words which the sender wrote later are covered by the squares in the plate which have been left by the cutting-out. all complex codes and similar means of communication occupy much time, so they are not for spies to use in time of war, though one can employ them in peace time. certain solutions can be employed as inks, so that, when dry, they leave no trace on the paper; then one has only to warm the paper over a lamp, and the writing stands out clearly. this method, however, has been very largely used, and a blank sheet of paper is always an object of suspicion. and, in view of the meaning which an apparently simple letter may bear to eyes that can decipher the hidden meaning, it should be a rule in war to destroy all captured correspondence of the enemy. this rule should also be observed on the arrest of any suspected person. . _cipher correspondence_.--there are a great number of systems of cipher-writing; one of the simplest is described in the following letter of marshal soult to general neil, dated september , , in which soult writes: "his majesty advises me to agree upon a cipher with you, which you will have to use in future in your correspondence with the chief of staff of the army. in the execution of this you can, in my opinion, best make use of a pamphlet (of which the title is given in the letter). the first figure will give the number of the page; the second figure the line, reckoned from above, not counting the heading. the third number will serve as indication of the required word or letter, and give its position in the line indicated by the second figure: if the figure means a whole word, you will underline it; if it only means a letter, you will not do so. commas must be put between the indicating figures." the disadvantages of this system consisted in the slowness of construction and deciphering of the message, since it would almost always be necessary to indicate not whole words, but each letter separately, for which three figures are necessary each time. to avoid the latter disadvantage a dictionary can be employed for the execution of the cipher, whereby in most cases one could succeed in giving the whole word with two figures. a certain officer proposed to set up for this purpose a special military dictionary, similar to the marine signal-books existing in all countries. in this dictionary one could enter in alphabetical order all figures, letters, constantly occurring syllables, and complete military expressions. the officer in question was of the opinion that , ciphers would be quite enough to form a complete code. thus all figures, letters, words, etc, would be numbered in the book in succession from beginning to end. in the preparation of reports one could then indicate by one cipher a figure, a letter, a syllable, and sometimes a whole word or even a whole phrase. the disadvantage of such a system consists in that its foundation is always the same, and that the printed dictionary could easily be secretly obtained from all neighbouring states. in order to obviate this, a few alterations were subsequently proposed. one alteration was to the effect that one could take a given number to serve as a key; in preparing reports the key-number would always be added to the number under which is designated the required word in the dictionary. it may be assumed that the word "regiment" is required to be coded, and this word is number in the dictionary; the key-number is ; so in the report the word is indicated by . it is of course obvious that one could subtract, instead of adding, the key-number. another alternative consists in having two different key-numbers. in the report the words are indicated by figures always changing, first in the case of the one, and then of the other key-number. in this way one and the same word, indicated twice in the report, may each time be indicated differently. for instance, the word "division" is number in the word-book; the key-numbers are , and , . the first time the word "division" is indicated by the number , (that is, , -- ) and the second time by , (that is, , -- ). the main disadvantage of all these various means of communication lies in that a book is essential, from which the deciphering will have to be done. the book in question is easily lost, or is not at hand at the required moment, and then the cipher is not only useless, but the work caused in obtaining the message is wasted. an instance of this occurred in , when one of the german generals received a message which he could not decipher at once, since the dictionary which the headquarter staff had arranged with him as a code-book was in a wagon which had been left behind. the same misfortune befell the commander of a french territorial division at chalons-sur-marne, who could not decipher a telegram, since by an oversight he had sent his cipher with the archives to chateau thierry. for the ciphering of messages by spies the above systems are also disadvantageous because most spies can carry no books with them on their missions. thus writes klembovski, who made a study of espionage on active service, but was unable to arrive at any method of transmitting messages which should be free of marked disadvantages. as to his contentions regarding the use of ciphers, it has been stated--though on what authority is hard to ascertain--that the german secret service will decipher any message in any language in a given space of time, no matter what code may be used. in one of edgar allan poe's stories there is a means shown of deciphering practically any code in which the characters are constant-- that is, in which the same sign represents the same letter each time it is used--and it is quite probable that one used to the deciphering of code-messages could work out any code. for a code must be built up on some system, and therefore some reversal of the system must exist by means of which the message can be deciphered without the aid of a key. berlin recognises the uses of pseudo-clergy in time of war, for quite a number of german village clergy are impecunious and of a distinctly low class, and thus the army is not averse to their imposture. men of this kind are selected for service in the field, where it is anticipated they can make themselves useful, under the pretext of ministering to the wounded, by extracting information about the movements of troops, etc. it is arranged that, in the event of a retreat, the clerical spy shall convey to the pursuing force detailed information regarding the losses in men and guns of those retreating, the numbers of men still unwounded, and the _moral_ of the troops, by means of signals as detailed above-- broken branches of trees, specially placed stones, and other things. one favourite system of espionage on active service, from the german point of view, consists in the use of the red cross van. under the rules governing international war, the red cross van may go anywhere, even into the enemy's lines, to pick up wounded, and the german forces, "making war by all the violent means at their command," have not scrupled to make use of red cross vans both for espionage work and as shelter for machine-guns--authentic cases are reported in which treacherous fire has been opened on the troops of the allies in this way. another method of obtaining information consists in sending two scouts out with a coil of wire, when in the presence of the enemy. the scouts, bearing one end of the wire, are instructed to approach the enemy's lines, at night, and of course, when they have approached within sight, they are shot. the wire no longer "pays out" from the end kept in the lines, and the length unrolled, when hauled back and measured, gives the artillery-range almost to a nicety. communications in times of peace are never made direct to headquarters. the fixed spies, as already remarked, employ such agents as they may choose and their rate of pay allows. their reports are collected by the travelling spies, who are under the control of agents of sections, stationed in belgium and switzerland (up to the outbreak of war) but not in germany. from the agents of sections reports go to the central bureau of the secret service at berlin, where sorting and classification of news supplied is pursued, and all that part of the world which could possibly be inimical to germany is card-indexed. it is a sordid, sorry, mean business, utterly devoid of the romance and glamour with which the spy of fiction has invested it, and, whatever the fate of german armies in the field may be, the secret service of germany has done more than anything else to pervert the moral sense of the nation. chapter eight. women spies. in any account of the german spy system one invariably harks back to stieber when passing to a review of any fresh branch of the system. psychologist as he was, stieber recognised that such a system as he proposed to establish in france prior to the war of could be rendered more effective if women were employed in conjunction with men. thus he requested that there might be sent from prussia to france a certain number of domestic servants, governesses, women-workers, and others who might, by gaining access to the family life of the french people, pass on to the fixed agents information which might be useful. further, he requisitioned the services of a smaller number of attractive-looking girls who were to be placed out as barmaids, and in similar positions, where they could incite men to talk a little too freely for the benefit of the grosser general stab of berlin. stieber reckoned that women could learn what men would miss, in many cases, and the event proved him right. he was careful, however, not to employ his women spies in positions of extreme trust, for he had learned, by the time that he was ready to organise his system, that the prussian woman--it is unwise to include more--was not to be trusted with a secret. out of the many failures to be credited to spies, most of all are laid to the accounts of women, mainly through the women in question having lost control of their heads through their hearts, and having become more or less infatuated with men whom they ought to have regarded as their prey, but whom they would no longer betray. it seems that the temperament in a woman which best fits her for spying also renders her likely to fall victim to her own affections, as far as her efficiency in espionage is concerned, for the german secret service, though it may overlook one mistake--no more--on the part of a male agent, disowns a woman spy as soon as she errs, without any exception. the case of lison, who ruined lieutenant ullmo, is partly a case in point. not that this vampire lost her head in the things she did, or acquired any undue affection for ullmo; but she bungled her case after having rendered good service to the german secret service. the mistake was not overlooked--the german secret service no longer knew that such a woman as lison existed when once the trial of ullmo had opened. her error put her out of the spy system for ever, and, no matter what became of her, she never received another pfennig from her former paymasters. the woman spy is largely utilised in the matter of internal espionage; in berlin, for instance, society women are able to form _salons_, more or less worthy of that historic title, at which they can hold gatherings of men and women and gather up the tittle-tattle from which scandals are constructed, and consequent pressure can be brought to bear on various persons as desired. in another circle, women keep houses at which men congregate, and here the charmer of fiction is dimly reflected, for personal attraction on the part of the female spy plays a large part in her power of acquiring useful information. still lower in the scale are domestic servants, who overlook correspondence, overhear conversations, and in many other ways act as bearers of news which would otherwise go unheard by the berlin headquarters. on foreign service women spies in responsible posts are rare, but dangerous in reverse proportion to their numbers. one of stieber's women learned all the secrets she sought, simply by supplying a young french officer with as much cocaine as he asked. had the officer in question discovered other means of procuring as much powdered cocaine as he wanted, the spy in question would have been forced to offer some other reward for information. but he relied on the spy, and, in common with most drug-takers, was sufficiently morally enfeebled to be persuaded to give up all the information at his command. some of these foreign service female spies are artists in their profession. one may take the case of such a one who keeps a discreet establishment, say, in a garrison town. she welcomes visitors, and is a very tactful sympathiser with hard-worked officials in government offices. she offers encouragement, advice, and sympathy as regards work and worries, and sides with the complainant in any grievance regarding the arrogance of superiors. her introductions, in the first place, give her a definite social standing, and, like the male fixed agent, she is so connected with the life of the place as to seem quite a part of it-- she is above suspicion in every way. it follows, given the type of woman who attracts men, that men talk to her far more than to members of their own sex; they find her companionship restful and soothing-- especially the younger men--and are easily led on to talk of themselves, their hopes and their work. they talk in all innocence, and are encouraged by the listener to talk always more and more; and, after a month, or two or three months, perhaps, there falls one sentence which is as a straw that marks the direction of the wind--and that sentence finds its way to berlin, where it is card-indexed. acquaintance ripens to friendship; to the outer world's sight two people talk of things that interest them, but in reality the spy, having completely won the confidence of the man she set out to make her victim, leads him to talk of his work in a manner that he would have deemed impossible when first he met this attractive woman. there is on record one failure among women spies which illustrates the danger of employing them. the spy in question was sent out to win the affections of a young attache at a french embassy, and this she accomplished through the simple expedient of teaching him the german language. in a regular course of lessons which the young diplomat underwent at the hands of the lady he found out that he was not so much attracted by her, after all; but she fell in love with him in earnest. thenceforth she was not only useless, but a danger to the german headquarters, since she was in a position to impart information instead of to extract it as berlin desired. it must be obvious, when one considers the extent of the organisation that stieber set up, and the nature of the reports furnished by the staff, that an enormous amount of service work is done to no purpose; but this is inevitable, like the keeping-up of a navy which remains idle for fifteen or twenty years, but must still be maintained at full strength. thus this corps of women spies is maintained and its reports are received and studied and tabulated. much of the information sent in by women is, of course, hopelessly useless; but out of the mass of chaff sufficient grain is sifted to make the continuance of the work worth while--in german estimation, at least. it is a known fact that the government of berlin have not only overlooked but favoured the establishment of houses of ill-repute in the city, simply because through the keepers of these houses valuable information is to be obtained. young men were lured to a certain notorious establishment in berlin from the foreign embassies, and even from departments of the berlin government itself. in the first case the object was information with regard to the procedure at the embassies, and in the second case information was desired as to the integrity or lack thereof on the part of those entrusted with the control of german national affairs. the woman who ran this establishment had laid to her own count many ruined reputations and ruined lives in the course of her career. it is known that the permanent spies, known in the vernacular as "post offices," have to send in to headquarters certain information. this information is tabulated as follows: all possible information relating to general officers and their equals in the country concerned, including personal as well as official details. particulars of all who pass from military colleges to commissions, and all who pass from naval colleges to the navy. particulars of all directors and examiners of military and naval colleges. particulars of the official duties add personal habits of all officials in charge of arsenals, powder factories, store depots, and other works connected with military and naval organisation. staff officers, aides-de-camp, and generals' orderlies--particularly concerning the lives and habits of these. officers or officials employed in the ministry, secretaries and under-secretaries in government offices, _especially those whose circumstances are low or whose affairs are in disorder_. if the varied nature of this work is borne in mind, and the many opportunities a woman would have for learning details of the personal side are considered, it will be seen that the work of the woman spy can be invaluable. as already remarked, germany wants to know not only the things that are of immediate use, but also the little things that may be of use in certain contingencies--possibly useful as well as certainly useful and probably useful information is welcome. and, in the average french or english household of the official class, either in france or england, a german domestic, perfectly capable at her work and in every way above suspicion on the part of her employers, can render enormous service to the german secret service, simply by keeping her ears open. for the servant, whether spy or honest employee, knows nearly everything there is to be known about her employers. if the master's financial affairs are in such a state that bribery might be tried with a remote chance of success, she is aware of it; if the mistress has compromised herself in any way, and is open to blackmail, the domestic is more likely to know of it than any one else, for she has unquestioned access to letters where even the husband is ignorant of their existence--nobody thinks of suspecting her of more than mere curiosity, at the worst. the object of the system inaugurated by stieber is to work along the lines of least resistance, to ensure safety and efficiency by choosing means so obvious as to be negligible--and that system has produced great results, past question. more especially is this method noticeable in the case of the german spy: it is not the adventuress of fiction who does most of the useful work, but the inconspicuous and apparently thoroughly trustworthy woman, who, whatever her station, has an obvious reason for occupying it, and is above reproach or suspicion. not that the adventuress has not her share as well. a woman carried out most of the underground work connected with the morocco loan; a woman stopped the clandestine marriage of one of the imperial princes, and another woman arranged a marriage between a bourbon king and a member of the house of hohenzollern. yet another, according to von blowitz, brought off as skilful a coup in connection with the theft of documents as has ever been known. but these things are exceptions to the regular work of women spies, which is for the most part unromantic, petty, and mean--as is most espionage work, whether man or woman be concerned in its accomplishment. in active service the woman plays a very small part, for the endurance of a man is required to undergo such rigours as usually fall to combatants and spies alike once the armies have taken the field. here, however, women are of use in carrying messages and in similar minor capacities. such of them as manage to keep their places in civilian establishments may be of great use in learning projected plans--though plans are usually kept too secret, since the organisation and extent of the german system of espionage is fairly well-known in official circles of other countries. during the siege of liege men masqueraded as women in order to obtain information for the german commander. in one particular case four ladies were observed in the town, and certain small points of make-up and attire caused the police to entertain suspicions. the ladies were seized and examined, and very few inquiries were sufficient to settle the question of their sex, while further inquiries certified them as german spies--and they paid the penalty of their daring. before execution, spies captured in the present war have stated that they have been forced to take on their tasks; certain persons are selected by lot out of the army, and are given choice of the disguise with which they must go out to the front. in many cases the disguises are hopelessly inadequate, and all the men who go out know that they are going to almost certain death. but the man who, without some rehearsal, goes out disguised as a woman, is not only facing death, but looking for it--as do these german soldiers in like case. cases have come to light in belgium in which wearers of the red cross have proved to be spies; women have been caught acting as nurses, keeping to their posts simply for the purpose of obtaining such information as shall be useful to the german forces. such cases are rare, for the red cross nurse is usually well authenticated and deservedly above suspicion, but the rarity of the cases and the very small likelihood of detection renders them correspondingly dangerous. from their positions and duties they are in the very heart of things, and are able to get more information than those in other positions, though the transmission of news, after it has been obtained, is by no, means an easy business. eastern and northern france, before the war, were full of women spies, planted under the fixed post system. they were mainly auxiliaries, for it was seldom that the charge of a fixed post was entrusted to a woman, for the simple reason that it is not easy for a women to set up in any kind of business and maintain it--at least, not so easy as it is for a man. the majority of these women spies in french departments were domestic servants, teachers, or less reputably engaged as waitresses in establishments for the sale of alcoholic liquors. for the last-mentioned class, the chief requirements in every case were that they should be decidedly attractive, unscrupulous, and able to make men talk. for remuneration, they depended mainly on their legitimate employers; the fixed agent, at his own discretion, paid out sums to them which made it worth their while to gather information, but they were expected to five on the country which they had come to betray to the staff at berlin. since this treachery characterises the groundwork of all german espionage, and the plans of the military organisation are built on espionage, it follows that in the nature of things the german empire must end: treachery is an ill foundation on which to build. chapter nine. general espionage work. the nature of the work undertaken by spies of the higher orders places them, at times, in possession of a good deal of information which, should the spies choose to use it improperly, becomes a danger to the german government. this is not good for the spies concerned; in some cases they are trusted too far--for even such an organisation as the german secret service can make mistakes at times--and then they vanish. one case was that of an ex-service officer on the russian frontier, who, unfortunately for him, fell in love with a russian lady, and found that his duty was not so strong as his love: it was ascertained that not only was he lax in his espionage, but that he was actually making his work of benefit to the russian service rather than to his own people. a noted duellist was sent to the spot, with orders to challenge the recreant spy--and as a result the spy was killed. the instance is not an isolated one, and in some cases the headquarters at berlin, realising that a man or woman knows enough to be dangerous, deliberately betrays the person concerned to the authorities of some other power, with a view to removing dangerous evidence, by means of imprisonment, until such time as the evidence shall be no longer dangerous. such a case, undoubtedly, was that of the man graves, whose arrest was largely due to a wrongly addressed letter sent to him from his headquarters--or at the instigation of his headquarters. the system pursued at the german headquarters is such that mistakes are not made by accident, but, if they occur, there is a definite purpose behind them. graves knew too much, and suffered for it; he was a clever man and a good spy--but there were others equally good, and, since he had come to know more than the heads of the german secret service thought fit, he was removed, by being imprisoned in an english prison, to a point where his knowledge was no longer available for his own use. it may be urged that, in view of the nature of the work involved in espionage duty, it would be hard to find people to undertake that duty, at least, to the extent alleged in the case of the german empire and its secret service. such a contention as this, however, proves ignorance of the german, and especially of the prussian character and way of viewing moral problems. in this connection it is worthy of note that herr richter, the leader of the opposition in the reichstag, once raised a protest with regard to "the more than doubtful morality of the individuals employed" in the police service of the country; that is, the persons employed in secret police work. in reply, the minister for the interior, von puttkamer, stated that "it is the right and duty of the state to employ special and extraordinary methods, and even if that honest and estimable functionary, police-councillor rumpff, has employed the methods of which he is accused, in order to secure for the state the benefits of useful intelligence, i here publicly express to him my satisfaction and thanks." the methods to which herr richter took exception included the suborning of high officials in magisterial, political, and industrial circles, more especially by the temptations afforded by the keeping of such disorderly houses as the woman krausz made infamously notorious; the engaging, as secret agents, court officials, reichstag deputies and their wives, and all who could in any way help on the business of information without regard to the moral or social degeneracy that might be brought about by these "honest and estimable" methods. since the responsible ministers of the country countenance rank immorality and vice in the search for information, it follows inevitably that the life of the nation as a whole is lowered in tone by the existence of the spy system; things that, to people of normal view-point appear detestable, become things that all may do without shame. here in england a spy is given his real value--he is looked on as no true man: in germany, on the other hand, the business of a spy is as honourable as any other; the outlook of the nation has become perverted by the system that stieber set in working--stieber himself was germany's greatest enemy, but the country has not yet realised this. and, with this perverted morality, this condoning of evil for the sake of the good that may accrue, there is no lack of material from which to fashion spies. the german empire has become not only commercialised, but debased; the german view of solemn treaties, and the german justification of broken oaths on the ground of expediency, are typical of the german view-point in all things. nothing is dishonourable, except to be found out, is a fairly accurate way of expressing the german view-point as regards rules for the conduct of life. with this much understood, it is easy to understand that, in dealing with a german--with any german--one is dealing with a potential spy, for the whole nation is subject to espionage and attuned to it, regarding it as a part of daily life. from money-lender and social hanger-on down to workman and loafer, spies may be made out of all grades of the social scale, and are made. through the medium of a workman spy, the plans of the lebel rifle were in german hands before ever one of the rifles in question was handed out for the use of french troops. at the other end of the scale is von puttkamer, minister of the interior, sanctioning anything and all things, irrespective of the harm they may do to the moral nature of the german race, so long as "information" is obtained. the taint is in the race, so permeating all classes that neither man nor woman can be regarded as free of it. the actual word "spy" is capable of various interpretations, and the real and acknowledged spies of the german system, numerous though they are, do not form nearly as large a total as the people who help the espionage system to maintain its efficiency. the spy _par excellence_ is one who has in him or in her a decidedly criminal instinct. men and women of this class make the best spies, from the point of view of their employers; and by reason of this the german system, since stieber passed out from it, has been more effective in the elucidation of details than of large essentials--something is missing from the moral pervert who makes the best spy, or it may be that there is no longer at the head of the secret-service organisation such a genius as stieber, who could make his small creatures accomplish large designs. stieber, zerniki--one may choose out half a dozen or so of names just as in criminal records one may choose out the names of peace and crippen, or even of the borgias, as capable of great things in crime. but the spies of later days in the german secret service have not been put to great uses, or the temper of the british people would not have been misunderstood to the extent that led to ireland being looked on as "a revolting province," or the colonies of britain as only waiting for a chance to escape from british rule. the general work of the spy seems to have degenerated along with the nation that founded the system, down to petty ends and inconsequent results; we have seen, in this present war, that the occupation of brussels was carried through without a hitch owing to the machine-like perfection of the german spy system--there was cause for congratulation, from a german point of view. but we have seen none of the great coups that made the campaign of as great a triumph for stieber as for bismarck and his royal master. the anti-espionage system of british secret service is worthy of note in connection with the decline of the german system of espionage. in this connection the _scotsman_ report of the trial of graves bears quotation, more especially the deposition of inspector trench, who described the effects found on graves at the time of his arrest. "the prisoner, on being arrested at his hotel, had in his possession a doctor's book, apparently empty. this was found, on inspection, to contain two leaves stuck together. in the middle were sentences and figures--a code which had been subsequently deciphered by a process of subtraction from the a.b.c. code. "he also had... cartridge cases of the latest army pattern. the code-notes contained phrases like `clearing practice,' `have lowered defending nets,' `land fortifications are manned,' etc." further, graves had lived in edinburgh as "a medical student taking his last degree in science," but had not been near any hospital, and had used the paper and envelopes of a well-known english firm for his correspondence, in order to avoid inspection of his letters by the post office. the statement in court of facts like these points not so much to the cunning of the man graves, but to the way in which, from the time of his taking up residence in edinburgh as "a medical student," he must have been shadowed and kept under observation. the deciphering of the code, the certainty as to paper and envelopes used, and other things that came out at the trial, are small points in themselves; but they go to show that, if the german secret service were relatively as good to-day as in the days when stieber used his intelligence to keep the system ahead of all others, graves would never have come to a british jail; for, in the first place, the german secret service would not have employed a man who already knew too much, and, in the second place, as soon as any methods were known to the british police they would have been changed for others, even to the code which could be interpreted without the aid of a key. with regard to the quality of treachery, latent in all spies, the german secret service does its best to overcome this difficulty by the retention of a certain portion of the pay with which the spies are credited. when once a man or woman has fairly entered on the work of espionage a proportion of the pay is held back by the paymaster, so that there is always a considerable sum owing. this is supposed to act as an incentive to loyalty, and in most cases it undoubtedly has that effect, for no man likes to commit an act which will involve the forfeiture of a sum of money really due to him. bearing in mind the cupidity of the average spy, it will be seen that no stronger deterrent of treachery could be devised. in the case of the military spy, the french service affords more opportunities for the german agent than does the british. in the british service the officers of commissioned rank have many faults, but they are in nearly every case gentlemen, in the best sense of that much-abused word. in the citizen army of france, on the other hand, an officer may be anything--and in this is intended no disparagement on the brave army of our present allies. the republican system admits all to its ranks--perhaps it would be better to say that it compels all to enter its ranks--and the republican ideal places a commission in the reach of all, without regard to birth or social standing. in many ways this is to the good, for it fosters the republican spirit in the army, and at the same time makes an efficient fighting machine; but it admits to the commissioned ranks, perhaps once in five hundred times, a man who is sufficiently unworthy of his country and its uniform to be guilty of acts which point to his openness to corruption. the case of ullmo, though it concerns a naval officer, was one in point; it is not to be alleged that a british officer, enslaved by drugs and otherwise debased, would not have done as ullmo did; but it is to be alleged that the debasing of ullmo, which brought him down to the point at which subsequent corruption was not only possible but easy, is almost impossible in the british service--such a man would have been cashiered before he reached the point at which ullmo fell to actual treachery and crime. the republican system has its drawbacks, and a retention of the laws of caste to an extent which compels all commissioned officers to an acknowledgment of caste, is not altogether undesirable--except from the view-point of the spy. on the confession of a french writer on the subject, there are officers in the french service who form a "class of officers whose private life is no better regulated than their professional conduct." in such the spy finds comparatively easy prey; but their counterparts do not exist in the british services, for the caste laws of army and navy alike forbid ill-regulated lives, and officers of both services must be above suspicion when off parade. the universal service of france renders such a state of affairs almost impossible in the republican army. where every man is a soldier, the staff of officers is so much greater that the presence of a few black sheep is practically unavoidable--and it must be said in common fairness that the french officer is more sternly supervised than his british confrere--yet lapses on the part of commissioned officers are more common than in the british services. yet one other point must be borne in mind in connection with the general work of the spy. happenings in , combined with stieber's memoirs, make clear that the hanging of peasants in the later stages of the war excited even the criticism of stone-hearted bismarck, who saw in these occurrences a policy which might some day bring retribution. but to this stieber answered: "in war one must take the measures of war. it is the duty of our soldiers to kill the soldiers of the enemy who from motives of duty oppose our march. we spies claim the right to hang those who spy on us." the declaration is illuminating. here were the members of the german secret service facilitating a conquest by dastardly measures, by abuse of the hospitality of the country which the prussian troops subsequently invaded. yet, if the inhabitants of that country dared to attempt to give information to their own countrymen, they were to be hanged. espionage is responsible for many evils: stieber shows here that it is responsible for the blunting of the moral sense of his fellow-countrymen, and that the espionage system of laid the foundations of the prussian disregard of human life, and the utter brutality and savagery displayed by prussians in this present war of . "a peasant was caught in the act of watching a prussian convoy," stieber writes in his memoirs, "and was falsely accused of having fired upon it; he was hung up by ropes under his arms in front of his own house, and was slowly done to death with thirty-four bullets fired in succession. in order to make an example, i decided that the body should remain hanging for two days, under the guard of two sentries." a thing like this is worth memory to-day, in view of what has happened at louvain and aerschot and other scenes of belgian outrage. the germ of prussian barbarism must have been in the race, but stieber and his kind have fostered it and caused its growth to the extent that has made of germany a name of shame among the nations of the earth. chapter ten. agents provocateurs. this subject of political work, apart from espionage proper on the part of german agents, is a delicate one, for proof is not only hard to come by, but direct proof is practically non-existent, owing to the nature of the work. the most that can be done is to take cases of political work which, on the face of them, are such that no honest citizen would attempt: by a process of mental elimination one may arrive at the source of such work, though the result of the process is little more than conjecture. still, half a dozen or so of results, all pointing the same conclusion, are of value, and, in spite of the absence of definite proof, police-court and criminal-court trials and the like, there can be no reasonable doubt that the work of the _agent provocateur_ goes on, and that the central office at berlin pays in order to keep it going. harking back once more to stieber, it will be remembered that, at the outset of his career, he took service in a mercantile firm, and identified himself with german socialism of the revolutionary kind. he learned at first hand the power which socialism has among the working classes; he learned that, with very little reality behind the promises, it is easy to make a workman do nearly anything, if only the promises as regards the future of the working class are large enough. he came to his own as a master in espionage and treachery--by betraying the men to whom he posed as a leader--at almost the first beginnings of the german socialistic movement, and he watched that movement grow as the years went on. he saw that working men had a passion for organising in defence of their rights, and that they could be led by nearly any appeal which proclaimed their rights, no matter how extravagant the proclamation might be. further, he saw that in germany, under the empire, workmen's rights would never win them anything--repression was too efficiently conducted, and there was no good in the workmen's movement for him; so he joined in with the forces that unto to-day ( ) govern germany and suppress all that makes for real democratic government. stieber was an opportunist, and knew well which side would best reward him. later on in his career he gained opportunities of studying the social conditions involved in the political constitutions of other countries; after the constitution of france interested him, and, studying it as he studied all things, with a view to the furtherance of his plans, he saw that much nominal power was placed in the hands of the people-- illiteracy and ignorance were no bars to the free expression of opinions, and, further, a man might agitate and stir up discontent among the working people to his heart's content, compared with what might be done in germany, and there was no aristocracy nor any bureaucracy to say him nay. now, said stieber, if these workmen could be stirred up in a way that would make them distrustful of the governing classes: if class could be set against class, unions formed, and the men led to strike and paralyse industry at a given time--say, at a time when germany wanted to make war--the benefits accruing would be immense; but not to france. we have no definite proof that modern syndicalism and its evils arose out of stieber's efforts. we have certain evidence, and certain coincidences, that are nearly as good as definite proof. for instance, there is no actual proof of this contention in the fact that the incident of the _panther_ and agadir, which so nearly precipitated the whole of europe into war, was practically coincident with one of the worst strikes that the history of british industry can show; but there is proof that, for years past, german agitators have been teaching both british and french workmen the way to organise "in defence of their rights," and have been advocating syndicalism and the weapon of the general strike as a panacea for all evils to which the classes subject the masses. with the economic aspect of the question we are not concerned for the purpose of this book, and lest we be misunderstood let us pay tribute to the fine loyalty of the leaders of labour in this country; to such men as will crooks, who have helped to bring the nation into line in the hour of national peril, and are men worthy of all honour and all praise. we are concerned more with certain coincidental happenings, like that of agadir and our own great strike, and certain other happenings which point to the same conclusion--that germany has tried, by means of industrial unrest, disaffection, and other means, to weaken the hands of potential enemies in the hours when strength was most needed. first of all, it must be noted that the two chief essentials to the mobilisation of troops for war, and the placing of a navy on a war footing, are an efficient railway and transport system, and the assurance of an adequate coal supply. we may call it a coincidence, and no more, that the two industries which have made most progress towards syndicalism and the use of the general strike, both in england and france, are those of transport and coal-mining. the first piece of evidence may be regarded as coincidence pure and simple, and it is only when the coincidences mount up that they may be accepted as evidence of weight. in order to render effective the railways of the country, which as far as france is concerned are on strategic plans toward the western frontier, germany has increased its establishment of railway engineers to fifty-four military companies. that is to say, no matter what sympathetic action might have been taken by german railwaymen in case of an international strike, the german railways could still have run with full staffs, and every man was trained to his place on the lines that would be concerned in the mobilisation and placing of troops on the western frontier of the country, to act against france. no syndicalist movement could shake german power--the defensive action was too strong for that. further, the railways of the state system, organised with a view to mobilisation of troops rather than peace requirements, are controlled not by capitalists, nor by political figures, but each by a colonel of the german army, at the head of his military division of railway engineers, and the officers, non-commissioned officers, and men of these railway engineers are qualified railwaymen; their military duties consist in the efficient performance of railway work. for it is no use forging a weapon that will, in time of need, prove as dangerous to the holder as to the one it is aimed against. as a final guard against trouble of this kind, stieber laid down as a definite rule in : "that no native of alsace-lorraine, even though performing his military service in germany, should be either recruited or admitted in any capacity whatever for employment on the said railways." as to general offensive action, the first sign thereof lies in the vote, in february of , of a credit of , thalers "to defray the expense of foreign publications useful to the policy of the empire," combined with the appearance, in france, of the famous "mesnard pamphlet" five months later. the pamphlet in question was a deliberate incitement to the men employed on french railways to take matters into their own hands and carry republicanism on to sheer anarchy. "if you want your employees to be attentive and polite to the public," says the author, "try to give those employees a somewhat better idea of whom it is they toil and sweat to benefit. at present all that we know is that our work is not done precisely for the love of the thing, nor does it result in any improvement for ourselves. this being so, our sole object is to keep our situations and get through with our tasks. as far as the public are concerned, we take no notice of them, while they for their part behave in the most abusive manner toward us... "the employees should elect their chiefs themselves in accordance with the principle of universal suffrage... it would be merely logical if the employees had the right to choose who should give them orders, and to turn out those who proved unjust or incapable... "the last resource of railway workers in search of justice is a strike. a strike is a legitimate weapon, and the fact cannot be contested. if it is suppressed, its suppression constitutes an abuse of the rights of the stronger party. with the organisation which the syndicate cannot fail to have in a short time, we shall have arrived at a position at which we can contemplate the possibility of a general strike of all the railways and of similar institutions if necessary. it is highly important that everybody should think over this problem. no partial strikes, but patience and then a general strike..." then, fearing lest mobilisation of the army of france should defeat the ends to which this pamphlet was designed, its authors went on to say that railwaymen would not be forced to mobilise to prevent a strike. "we know our duty as patriots, and we know when we must be soldiers; but if you gentlemen, you officers, do not know it, then leave us alone to manage our own affairs, or we shall call in the prussians." these extracts from the pamphlet itself show its general tenor, but though one may search through all its pages there will be found no definite and legitimate ground for the proclamation of the general strike which "mesnard" advocates so stirringly. the whole publication, which must certainly rank among the "foreign publications useful to the policy of the [german] empire," is an attempt to stir up class hatred, to get the men to mobilise against military service at a given word of command, and to paralyse the railway services of france when german aggression should consider such a step necessary. for the evidence has become too strong for us to take this as mere coincidence, nor did the french government regard it as such. even the railwaymen's unions of france repudiated the document, and one of the heads of a trade union in france stated openly as his opinion that it was the work of germany and an attempt at the establishment of german influence. the pamphlet itself, which was widely circulated among railwaymen until government action stopped its distribution, came from geneva, one of the headquarter stations of the german secret service, and the residence of one of the most highly placed officials in the espionage system. the direct effect of the mesnard pamphlet was small, but evidently the policy that it outlined was found worth following. the first great demand of the syndicalists on behalf of the railwaymen of france was made at the time that the dreyfus trial was causing definite friction between france and germany in official circles. on this occasion a general strike was actually declared, but it was a fiasco. yet again, railway troubles in france grew ever greater as relations grew strained between the two countries toward the dawn of the second decade of this century. the agadir incident was coincident not only with labour troubles in england, for if the railways of france could have been paralysed at the time of a declaration of war by germany, the result would have been equivalent to a decisive german victory over french troops in the field. inquiry into syndicalist work in france and england alike will show that the funds of the syndicalists have benefited, if they have not been mainly supported, by german contributions. then, again, if one examines the career of the average fiery, anarchistic orator, who declaims against law and order, and does his best to stir up men irrespective of national rights, it will be found in many cases that the orator in question is in some way connected with germany. he may not be a german, but he is in such a position that german influence is at least possible--and stieber himself was apparently heart and soul with revolutionary german workmen, while in reality he was busy betraying his associates to the secret police whom he subsequently governed. the working man himself is disinterested, and believes that he is acting for the best in his own behalf, and in that of all oppressed humanity. but his leaders cannot always be regarded in an equally charitable light. german efforts do not stop here. almost simultaneously with the outbreak of hostilities a placard was distributed broadcast in ireland, with a view to ensuring the desired action on the part of the "revolting province." the placard in question has been attributed to the few fenians still remaining in ireland; but such an aspersion on the character of these men is the rankest injustice, for even the most rabid of the anti-english in ireland have realised that a world-war transcends domestic affairs, and irishmen of all shades of opinion have shown themselves ready to fight the battles of freedom against prussian militarism. the placard in question is decidedly a "foreign publication useful to the policy of the [german] empire," and it reads as follows: irishmen--fools! have you forgotten that england is your only enemy? have you forgotten kathleen-ni-houlihan, that you are willing to shed your blood to win england's battles? have you lost your wits, that you believe all the ridiculous lies published against the germans in the jingo papers? have you forgotten how the english treated the boers? have you forgotten 'ninety-eight? have you forgotten the manchester martyrs? have you forgotten the k.o.s.b. murders? have you forgotten that the future lies in your hands? have you forgotten that england's difficulty is ireland's opportunity? god save ireland! thus the _agent provocateur_ at his very worst. germany has confessedly set out to make war by "all the violent means at her command," but not by violent means alone. such work as this placard makes evident, though, shows plainly how germany has mistaken the temper of a people, for the munsters and the irish guards have given their answer to the questions put. the flagrant error and waste of effort is like that of von holeben, who, when german ambassador to america, strove to stir up strife between america and england until his efforts became common talk in washington, and berlin was forced to recall the blunderer. yet more efforts of the same kind have been made in america since the outbreak of war, and at least one highly placed german official has received definite notice from washington that he must either stop his work of sowing discord or leave the country. these are but instances. the whole history of syndicalism, the whole history of setting class against class in the case of industrial unrest, and of irish disturbances in recent years, point to some influence working independently of the rights and betterment of the classes concerned in the agitations. in the case of ireland, we may assume that the majority of irish patriots have the best interests of their countrymen at heart; but the placard of which the contents are quoted above never emanated from any irish patriot; it was a definite and ineffectual attempt to stir up the worst passions of which humanity is capable in the hour of england's greatest need, at a time when all irish patriots were voicing unity and support to their government, whether they were home rulers or orangemen--the action of ireland has proved that. in the case of working men's unions, the action of the men themselves has always been to a definite end, both in england and in france; to the end that they might obtain better conditions of life, just laws to govern their work, and the elemental rights of man. but, in addition to these things, there have been of late years agitators who would claim for the working men of the two countries that germany had most cause to fear, not only the rights of their class, but a right to disregard the rights of all other classes, and take absolute power into their hands at a signal from some leader. efforts have been made to induce men to strike for little, for nothing; to cause them to render a whole country powerless by their action, and to do indirect injury to themselves. such action as this points to the working of a force not necessarily beneficial to the workmen themselves, but certainly inimical to the country to which the workers happen to belong. and, always keeping in mind stieber and the debasement of aim he has brought on his own country, together with the fact that industrial unrest is in the first place a german product, we may say that coincidence does not account for all the syndicalist efforts that have been contemporary with rumours of war. chapter eleven. steinhauer's work. the trials of schulz, graves, and others who have made appearances in the british criminal courts recently--or comparatively so--showed us the spy at work in extricating information; they demonstrated one phase, and a dangerous phase at that, of the business. no recent trial, however, has proved of such importance in connection with a study of the system as that of ernst, which, quite apart from the doings of the accused man, shows the work of steinhauer, the potsdam director of the fixed agent, or "post office," as the fixed spy is designated in the slang of espionage. since the case of ernst is still _sub judice_ at the time of writing, only the bare official report can be given, at least as regards the conduct of the accused; but even with this limitation there is more to be learned from the case of ernst and his alleged doings than from any other recent case, for the allegations of the prosecution involve evidence as to the headquarter office at potsdam managed by steinhauer, who supervises the working of the fixed agent as well as that of travelling spies and secret-service headquarter methods--evidence which is sufficiently plain and complete to substantiate all the statements made as regards the foreign work of the german secret service in the course of this book. karl gustav ernst, hairdresser, of caledonian road, islington, was first charged on august , , with contravening the official secrets act with a view to his being dealt with under the aliens restriction act. he denied knowledge of the charge against him, which he described as "ridiculous," and, after remand, was ordered deportation. conveyed to brixton prison, to await a suitable opportunity for his being sent to germany, he appealed to the home office for release. his appeal included claims to the effect that he was absolutely innocent of any crime, that he had nothing whatever to do with the official secrets act, and that, since the police had produced no documents in court, they had evidently discovered nothing of an incriminating nature at his place in caledonian road, where he _had carried on business as a hairdresser for sixteen years_, with a pentonville official among his customers. inquiries proved the truth of a claim that he made to the effect that he was a british subject, which rendered it impossible to detain him under the aliens restriction act. he was consequently released, and rearrested outside the prison gates as a spy on the country in which he had voluntarily become a citizen by means of naturalisation. the charge against him now is that is he traitor as well as spy. his position with regard to the original charge and sentence of deportation is worthy of note. for sixteen years he had been in business in caledonian road; that is to say, he had resided in his place for such a length of time that there were no grounds for suspicion against him on the part of the inhabitants of the district. he was a part of the life of the place, almost an old inhabitant, when his doings rendered him worthy of the notice of the police. this is characteristic of the fixed agent in french centres, as already stated here. on september , , the present case was opened against ernst by mr bodkin, who appeared for the director of public prosecutions at bow street police-court. the charge was to the effect that ernst had "obtained and communicated, and attempted to obtain and communicate to one steinhauer, certain information calculated to be useful to an enemy." mr bodkin stated that the prisoner first came under the suspicion of the authorities in october of , and it was evident that from then until january of he had been a spy in the pay of the german secret service. the man who was practically ernst's master was one steinhauer, a member and organiser of the german secret service, whose name had figured in practically every espionage case investigated in this country for the past three or four years. acting under steinhauer's orders, the prisoner was alleged to have been deputed to accomplish certain duties which fell under two heads. in the first place, it was alleged that he was to receive from steinhauer, who was located in germany, letters enclosed in envelopes which gave them the appearance of ordinary business communications, and to post them in england to various members of the organisation. in the second place, it was alleged that he was to make inquiries on his own account with regard to persons and places which, in the opinion of steinhauer, would be useful to the german secret service. his salary consisted of out-of-pocket expenses and a retaining fee of one pound a month, which, when ernst pointed out the risk attaching to what he was doing, and the importance of his work, was increased to one pound ten shillings a month. mr bodkin stated that "the system was perfectly well-known from the commencement in , and the hairdresser's shop in caledonian road was accordingly kept under observation." the observation included the opening of letters addressed to the accused, which were traced and the tracings filed before delivery of the originals to ernst. there were included among these letters a large number of communications from germany, chiefly from potsdam, and ernst himself sent many communications to potsdam and berlin. his letters were posted in different districts of london, while the letters coming from germany to him were written on english note-paper and enclosed in english envelopes, which the prisoner had forwarded to steinhauer for use--in one instance the paper and envelopes had been sent as "samples," the package being so weighty that steinhauer had to pay excess postage at the other end. by opening both outgoing and incoming correspondence the authorities were placed in possession of a mass of valuable information as regards not only ernst, but also other members of the system in england. for the purpose of the correspondence with ernst, steinhauer was alleged to have adopted the alias of "mrs reimers," and ernst himself, the prosecution stated, changed his name from time to time, having letters addressed to his shop as to "j. walters, care of k.g. ernst," and sometimes to "w. weller." these two names were the prisoner's own suggestion to steinhauer. the latter sent letters not only to ernst himself, but also missives to be forwarded to various places, including chatham, sheerness, and portland harbour. these letters were opened by the authorities under powers which they possessed for dealing with such cases, and tracings were taken before the letters were delivered. ernst was requested by steinhauer to find out all that he could about certain persons named, on the ground that they were connected or believed to be connected with the intelligence department of the war office. one of the firms upon which he was called to make inquiries and report had an office in the city opposite to the office occupied by the late captain stewart, who figured in the german courts in an espionage case, and subsequently was imprisoned in a german fortress. in one of the envelopes sent to ernst by steinhauer were two letters, one of which was addressed to a british sailor, and the other to a german located at portland harbour. further, the prosecution alleged, ernst was in constant communication with persons named kruger and krumer, in connection with espionage work, while one of his letters referred to a magazine article which described the defences of the east coast. another letter contained reference to the espionage case against parrott, which took place in the autumn of . after january of , steinhauer requested ernst to make inquiries about a person living in somerset, and to this ernst replied that he could not spare the time to do so, though he had previously gone up to sheffield on business of a similar nature. here, with the taking of some formal evidence, the first hearing of the case closed, and at this point mr s.y. tilly, who had been retained for the defence of the prisoner, said that if he had been in possession of the information outlined by mr bodkin it would have made a difference in his procedure in the case. he had been assured by the prisoner and the prisoner's friends that ernst was a perfectly straightforward british subject: but, in the circumstances revealed by mr bodkin's statement, he felt compelled to withdraw from the case. the act was sufficiently unusual to excite comment on the part of the court authorities; but mr tilly withdrew. the second hearing took place on october , , when the first witness called, a clerk in the secretary's office at the general post office, deposed to having opened and copied the letters which bore as postmark either "potsdam" or "berlin." these letters were written in german, and many of the envelopes contained letters which were to be reposted by ernst to other addresses. some of the letters to ernst were signed "st," and one of them, bearing the postmark "berlin - - " contained an envelope addressed to "mrs seymour, , alexandra road, sheerness." mr bodkin explained that this was the pseudonym and address of the man parrott, who figured in an espionage case in the autumn of . another letter to ernst, the witness further deposed, was dated "potsdam, january , ," and signed "st" it contained a request that envelopes, bearing the printed name of the makers, should be sent to the writer. then, on february , the same correspondent addressed ernst: "please post the enclosed letters at once, and send me, if you please, fifty envelopes as sample which you sent. then write me a letter, if you please, a letter in good english, in which a customer asks for letters to be forwarded to him on the continent addressed to `poste restante, etc.'" there were enclosed with this missive two letters, addressed respectively to "f. ireland, mess , h.m.s. _foxhound_, care of g.p.o.," and "a schutte, , castletown, portland harbour." another letter produced, bearing date of january , , signed "st," and dated from potsdam, contained the following: "according to information from newspapers, a fireman has been arrested on the english cruiser _foxhound_. if that is kr's nephew, then it is certain he was dragged into it through the carelessness and stupidity of kr. perhaps you can get into communication with k., but by all means be cautious. if my suspicions are correct, then kr. will be watched. above all--caution. should you have an opportunity to speak to him then ask him at the same time respecting a certain schmidt he once recommended to me. he [kruger] must be cautious, and especially show no address. that is to say, only go there when you know there is no danger to you. i mean, he must not start speaking german to you in the presence of others. please let me hear something soon." mr bodkin explained that ireland of the _foxhound_ was a nephew of a man named kruger, who took the name of ireland when he joined the navy. another letter addressed to the prisoner from potsdam, and dated february , , contained the following: "many thanks for your valuable letter. in future it will be done so. do you also desire that the letters i send you be sent `care of'? please reply to me as to this. please deliver at once enclosed letter addressed to kronan. expenses please charge. best greetings.--st" a letter sent to the prisoner for reposting was addressed to "h. graves, esq, b.m., b.sc., , craiglea drive, morningside, edinburgh," and in this were three five-pound bank of england notes. on march , , steinhauer signed his name in full, and enclosed marks, requesting ernst to obtain for him a copy of a london daily paper, which contained a detailed article on espionage, published a little time before the close of the stewart espionage case. copies of the letters sent through ernst to "mrs parrott, alexandra road, sheerness," and to "h. graves," at edinburgh and later at glasgow, were put in as evidence, but these were not read in court. one of graves's letters was enclosed in an envelope which bore the name of a well-known firm of chemical and drug manufacturers, as detailed in the evidence at the trial of graves. mr bodkin, commenting on this, said that the envelope was probably stolen. on march "st" (steinhauer) wrote from potsdam to ernst: "k. has excited himself for nothing. the youth is free. i will tell you the story orally next time." mr bodkin remarked, by way of explanation, that the youth ireland had been discharged. another letter addressed to mr graves, at the central hotel, glasgow, dated april , , and forwarded through ernst, contained bank-notes for pounds--this was very nearly the last letter ever sent to graves, judging from the time of his arrest and trial. on march a letter from potsdam contained a request for the prisoner to inquire whether a certain person living near hyde park was a busy man, and whether he was connected with the english government. then, in july of , "st" must have grown suspicious of the correspondence having been examined, for he wrote: "there is another point that i wish to impress on you, and that is, always to post registered letters in different post offices or districts. but you do that probably on your own accord." yet again, in a letter dated september , from potsdam, steinhauer emphasised the need for caution. "you can imagine," he wrote, "for yourself that we need in all directions only good, sure, and trustworthy people. we must be safe from surprises on the part of the women. will you take another name instead of walters?" evidence of another travelling spy was afforded by letters addressed to "f. gould, queen charlotte hotel, rochester," and to "charles graham, care of mr gould," at the same address. the one directly addressed contained two five-pound notes, and the "care of" letter contained three of these. so far, the evidence had concerned letters addressed to ernst, and then the witness went on to tell of the letters sent by ernst to steinhauer. witness had from time to time opened these letters, acting under his official instructions, and had found they were posted in london to mrs or miss reimers, care of steinhauer, at a potsdam address. they were all in handwriting which he recognised as that of the prisoner, when given the opportunity of comparing the writing, and were variously signed "g.e.," "w. weller," and "j. walters." certain extracts from these letters were read in court by mr bodkin, and the following passages may be quoted: "dear mr steinhauer,--allow me to make a few suggestions which came into my head while reading the case of grosse. you will be able to see that your agent grosse had not the slightest consideration for your other agents. no more could be expected from a man who has already done ten years' penal servitude. therefore, i beg that when you give any one my address, you give a different name, such as w. weller. "i have immediately posted both letters. [to schutte and ireland.] herewith enclosed two sample letters. i should also like to mention that the papers are making a gigantic row respecting the stewart affair. to-day several papers had the interview and confession which he has made. w. weller." the "sample" letters referred to may be judged from the following, read in court from one of them: "dear sir,--my business has caused me to go to switzerland for a short time, and, as i shall not be back in london for about two months, i should like you to send on my letters, marked poste restante. any expenses you might incur i will make up on my return to london." another letter was as follows: "dear mr steinhauer,--i should be very pleased if you would address letters to j. walters, care of ernst. in future i shall sign my letters j. walters, so that no mistake can be made... with regard to your other order, i beg you to excuse me, as i don't at all wish to meet kruger. i have seen him once, and he does not please me. i myself got a letter for somebody, care of the _foxhound_. i did not post the letter in my vicinity, but in the west end. the newspapers have the sailor's photograph, and he is said to be named ireland, and to have been born in germany. i shall have nothing to do with it." another letter was mentioned in which the accused was alleged to have referred to what he described as "a fine article" in a monthly magazine with regard to the east coast defences, and he also enclosed a cutting from a newspaper which detailed the arrest of doctor graves of edinburgh. ernst's comments on this, as read in court, were: "it shows how dangerous it is to have letters addressed poste restante. i only say of myself that for one pound a month i will not live in fear, as i have indeed a good business which maintains me. in april i shall end my second year in your service, and i should like to ask that my salary be increased. a confidential post such as mine is worth shillings a month." further letters produced referred to the parrott case, and one of these contained a cutting from a paper giving a report of the evidence against parrott in the police-court. when asked if he wished to question the witness, ernst replied that he was unable to employ a solicitor, and had determined to reserve his defence until he appeared on trial. with that the hearing of the case was adjourned for a week. the detailed evidence, summarised above, is extremely interesting and enlightening, in that it outlines, with a few gaps, the working of the fixed post system, and further discloses that, in addition to the headquarter stations established at brussels, lausanne, berne, and other places outside germany, a headquarter station exists by means of which the fixed agents are enabled to communicate direct with berlin. moreover, this case demonstrates very forcibly the measures taken for counter-espionage, and shows that germany needs another stieber if the secret service of the present day is to be made as efficient as in the time of the first franco-german war. since the alleged treachery of ernst was in the knowledge of the police from the beginning of the time stated as his period of work, and since the alleged effect of his establishment as a fixed agent was to produce more arrests by the english and scottish police than useful news for germany, one is at liberty to entertain very grave doubts of the efficiency of a system which includes such establishments as this. the capture of letters, and their opening and tracing, is worthy of note, especially when it is remembered that not only were the post office authorities able to capture _incoming_ letters--a comparatively simple matter, once their suspicions were aroused--but also were able to trace and find the letters that ernst was alleged to have posted to potsdam--not so simple a matter, when it is remembered that he is alleged to have posted his missives from all over london. the chief feature of the case, as reported, is the credit it reflects on the british system of counter-espionage, and the way in which german efforts are neutralised. the length of time the prisoner had resided in england was in accordance with the system pursued at berlin, of planting men for use when they had passed out from chance of suspicion by reason of their having become to all intents citizens of the country on which espionage is required. the fact of naturalisation is proved to have no significance--nor, since a german retains his nationality if he wishes it, in spite of having been naturalised in any other country, should naturalisation be held as a bar to suspicion. the position held by the defendant, in which he was able to carry on an independent business of his own, is quite in accordance with secret-service methods--these are the men berlin wants for its fixed posts. the only discrepancy with known methods lies in the rate of pay known to be allowed to fixed agents in french centres, but this may be accounted for by the fact that ernst is alleged to have completed only a short period (two years or so) in the employment of the berlin secret service. such evidence as the prosecution gave, as shown in the foregoing report, is worthy of very careful attention with regard to the working of the espionage system. for such a post as that which ernst is alleged to have filled is but a link in a chain, and the chain is a long one. chapter twelve. other recent cases. bibliography. the work of the supply ship captured recently in a port on the east coast of scotland hardly comes within the limits of this book, but it is significant as showing the daring of german methods, which apparently include the obtaining of supplies from an enemy's country by means which endanger neutral shipping--so long as the neutral ships can be found to take the risks. it was noted by the naval authorities that german submarines had been displaying activity at such a distance from their legitimate ports of supply as to render probable and almost certain the existence of other sources of supply. a watch was consequently kept for suspicious neutral shipping, and in the end a capture was made. a vessel came into port and proceeded to load for departure, and the customs officers could find nothing wrong with her. her papers were in order, her cargo contained nothing in the nature of contraband of war, and there was no cause for detaining her, as far as could be seen. but there were noted on the deck of the vessel, neatly coiled, cables and cables, enough to furnish a whaler on a three-years' sailing voyage and leave over sufficient to start a ropemaker in business. all over the decks bulky coils of hawser lay, and though, at any other time, the hawsers might have passed without notice, it was felt by the customs men that the superabundance of rope justified further investigation than had already been bestowed on the boat. so one of the coils was unfastened, its wrappings removed, and the cable itself was uncoiled. then was it found that there was merely a shell of rope, which served as covering for a steel drum containing oil fuel suited for the use of submarine engines. and there the story ends. the other case which i propose to quote shows equal audacity. at the guildhall court there appeared, on october , george newton spencer, who described himself as a clerk, and gave his address as lubeckerstrasse, , hamburg, germany. he was charged with "unlawfully inciting mr frank henry houlder (houlder brothers, limited, leadenhall street and liverpool) to trade with the enemy." mr humphreys stated in opening the case for the prosecution that the charges against the accused were based on the trading with the enemy act of . the accused was a british subject (as they all seem to be) who had been long resident in germany, and had been clerk to a shipping company with a rather long name, but which might be translated as the transport shipping company of hamburg. the accused appeared to have been sent over to this country by his employers towards the end of september for the purpose of negotiating what, from their point of view, was a most important transaction. although an englishman, and of the age of thirty-two years, no difficulty was made by the german military authorities over the accused obtaining a pass to travel in germany and leave the country. there was little doubt that the object of his visit was known to the authorities, who gave him that permission, although, from the german emperor's point of view, he was an alien enemy. the prisoner arrive in london on september , and on the next day he called on mr houlder. he introduced himself by producing a document in english, signed by his employers, which contained the proposal which had been made the subject of the charge. the proposal was as follows: there were six ships owned by the company at hamburg, on which messrs. houlder had mortgages amounting to about , pounds. these ships, on the outbreak of the war, and certainly in september--were either in neutral ports, and therefore temporarily lost to their owners, or were prizes of war, and as such temporarily--and probably finally--lost to their owners. the proposal to messrs. houlder--to whom was payable , pounds on november , and , pounds on november , was to the effect that they should pay over , pounds to the hamburg firm, and take over three of the steamers. the result would be that the mortgages on all six of the vessels would be wiped off, and messrs. houlder would become the owners of them, while the steamship company at hamburg would have , pounds in cash to enable them to carry on their business. the fact that one of the steamers was a prize of war in gibraltar, and would probably be sold as such, made the proposal still more remarkable. since, under these circumstances, messrs. houlder could have no title, the hamburg firm were virtually, asking for cash for nothing. mr houlder did not seriously consider the proposition, but, having made up his mind what to do, told the defendant he would have to consult his solicitors, and mentioned the existence of the proclamation which he assumed would prevent them from carrying out the transaction. defendant replied to the effect that his employers had communicated with the german foreign office--as they had no proclamation--and had received permission to carry out the transaction. he handed mr houlder a bundle of documents in german, which showed that the defendant's employers in hamburg, before ever they attempted to put this transaction in form, obtained leave from their own authorities, to whom they stated their own frank view-point with regard to the matter. it was set out that monetary benefit to a certain amount would accrue to the hamburg company as a result of the transaction, and that the vessels were all old freight steamers, of no possible use to the german navy--neither were they fit for transport purposes. the berlin secretary of state for home affairs replied that no objection would be taken to the transaction. mr houlder communicated with the admiralty instead of with his solicitors, and in the meantime the defendant went to a firm of marine insurance agents and made a similar proposal--this time to the extent of about , pounds cash benefit to the hamburg firm. in neither case was any application made to the authorities in england for a licence to break the law regarding trading with the enemy. the total effect of the proposals, had they been carried through, would have been to place the hamburg company in possession of about , pounds, with no compensating advantage whatever to the british firms--and the defendant was committed for trial. he received sentence of imprisonment for his treachery on october , , after due and proper trial. the only point worthy of comment in connection with this case is the doubtful morality, in a business sense, of german firms. we may set aside the fact that a contravention of an enemy's law was attempted, for no country would consider or regard the laws of a country with which it was at war, unless they involved principles of definite conduct and were the laws of civilisation rather than the laws framed for the protection of the said enemy in time of war. the point at issue is that a shipping company of hamburg, by its offer of valueless titles in exchange for hard british cash, was attempting such a form of sharp practice as would land any british trader in the criminal courts for fraud. one is forced to the conclusion that among many germans, and even among german firms whose standing ought to guarantee the cleanliness of their hands in business, there is no such thing as honesty, at least where dealing with a foreign firm is concerned. these people asked two london firms to break british law, and to be swindled. by german ethics, evidently, this is fair play and just dealing. it is an effect of the spy system on the moral fibre of the nation, rather than an instance of the working of the spy system itself--though the british subject who passed out from germany at an acute point of the war between the two countries, without being questioned by german authorities, looks perilously like a spy at work, and the nature of his other missions in england, had he been left at liberty, calls for some speculation. much may be learned with regard to the present working of german spies by intelligent perusal of the war reports, especially those coming from france, for the russian theatre of war is so tremendous and so far off that the small details seldom come through--the details small in themselves, but of far-reaching import. as an instance may be again mentioned the way in which german troops, occupying a town, chalk on certain doors "spare this house"--there is a world of enlightenment in the three words. similarly, in advance and retreat the germans have their agents with them or near them, and often the report makes tacit admission of the fact, in such a way that it is clear to one who reads with the espionage system in mind. the work of these agents is as endless as it is dishonourable and deadly--a poison that works just as efficiently as the legitimate weapons of war--and often more efficiently, since one can guard against an open weapon, but against the treachery that uses naturalisation and all things to further the ends of the monster trampling across the earth, there is no guard that soldiers can use as they use their weapons against troops opposed to them. the bibliography of espionage--german espionage--is a brief one, so far as books of value are concerned. first and foremost stand stieber's memoirs, which tell all that stieber chose to tell--and that is a good deal. the work has been translated into french, but not into english. there is the "indiscretions" of wollheim, a book which gives some idea of the system, but is mainly concerned with incident. the memoirs of busch, bismarck's friend, afford further light on the system, but only in a fragmentary way. "military espionage in peace and war," by w.n. klembovski, a russian staff officer, is more a manual of what ought to be done by purely military spies than a book descriptive of the german system. "espionage militaire," by lieutenant froment of the french army, is open to the same class of criticism, as is to a certain extent "espionage," by n. de chilly, though the last named is a more informative book. "the german spy system in france," an english translation of paul lanoir's book on the subject, is a brief but well-compiled review of what germany has accomplished in the way of espionage since in france, and although rather pessimistic in tone as regards french counter-measures, ranks as a work of value. as a rule "confessions" of spies may be disregarded, though they make good melodramatic reading. the nature of the subject is such that those who would tell the whole cannot, and those who can will not. bearing in mind the effect of thorough espionage on the german nation as a whole, it is to be hoped that in the near future the whole system will be swept away, together with the form of government that gave it birth and room to grow. chapter thirteen. appendix. since the preceding pages were written, and as proofs are being passed for press, the following statement has been issued for publication by the home office with regard to british counter-espionage measures: "in view of the anxiety naturally felt by the public with regard to the system of espionage on which germany has placed so much reliance, and to which attention has been directed by recent reports from the seat of war, it may be well to state briefly the steps which the home office, acting on behalf of the admiralty and war office, has taken to deal with the matter in this country. the secrecy which it has hitherto been desirable in the public interest to observe on certain points cannot any longer be maintained, owing to the evidence which it is necessary to produce in cases against spies that are now pending. "it was clearly ascertained five or six years ago that the germans were making great efforts to establish a system of espionage in this country, and in order to trace and thwart these efforts a special intelligence department was established by the admiralty and the war office which has ever since acted in the closest co-operation with the home office and metropolitan police and the principal provincial police forces. in , by the passing of the official secrets act, , the law with regard to espionage, which had hitherto been confused and defective, was put on a clear basis and extended so as to embrace every possible mode of obtaining and conveying to the enemy information which might be useful in war. "the special intelligence department, supported by all the means which could be placed at its disposal by the home secretary, was able in three years, from to , to discover the ramifications of the german secret service in england. in spite of enormous efforts and lavish expenditure of money by the enemy, little valuable information passed into their hands. the agents, of whose identity knowledge was obtained by the special intelligence department, were watched and shadowed without in general taking any hostile action or allowing them to know that their movements were watched. when, however, any actual step was taken to convey plans or documents of importance from this country to germany the spy was arrested, and in such case evidence sufficient to secure his conviction was usually found in his possession. proceedings under the official secrets acts were taken by the director of public prosecutions, and in six cases sentences were passed varying from eighteen months to six years' penal servitude. at the same time steps were taken to mark down and keep under observation all the agents known to be engaged in this traffic, so that when any necessity arose the police might lay hands on them at once, and accordingly on august , before the declaration of war, instructions were given by the home secretary for the arrest of twenty known spies, and all were arrested. this figure does not cover a large number (upwards of two hundred) who were noted as under suspicion or to be kept under special observation. the great majority of these were interned at or soon after the declaration of war. "none of the men arrested in pursuance of the orders issued on august has yet been brought to trial, partly because the officers whose evidence would have been required were engaged in urgent duties in the early days of the war, but mainly because the prosecution, by disclosing the means adopted to track out the spies and prove their guilt, would have hampered the intelligence department in its further efforts. they were, and still are, held as prisoners under the powers given to the secretary of state by the aliens restriction act. one of them, however, who established a claim to british nationality, has now been formally charged, and, the reasons for delay no longer existing, it is a matter for consideration whether the same course should now be taken with regard to some of the other known spies. "although this action taken on august is believed to have broken up the spy organisation which had been established before the war, it is still necessary to take the most rigorous measures to prevent the establishment of any fresh organisation and to deal with individual spies who might previously have been working in this country outside the organisation, or who might be sent here under the guise of neutrals after the declaration of war. in carrying this out the home office and war office have now the assistance of the cable censorship, and also of the postal censorship, which, established originally to deal with correspondence with germany and austria, has been gradually extended (as the necessary staff could be obtained) so as to cover communications with those neutral countries through which correspondence might readily pass to germany or austria. the censorship has been extremely effective in stopping secret communications by cable or letter with the enemy; but, as its existence was necessarily known to them, it has not, except in a few instances, produced materials for the detection of espionage. "on august the aliens restriction act was passed, and within an hour of its passing an order-in-coundl was made which gave the home office and the police stringent powers to deal with aliens, and especially enemy aliens, who under this act could be stopped from entering or leaving the united kingdom, and were prohibited while residing in this country from having in their possession any wireless or signalling apparatus of any kind, or any carrier or homing pigeons. under this order all those districts where the admiralty or war office considered it undesirable that enemy aliens should reside have been cleared by the police of germans and austrians, with the exception of a few persons, chiefly women and children, whose character and antecedents are such that the local chief constable, in whose discretion the matter is vested by the order, considered that all ground for suspicion was precluded. at the same time the post office, acting under the powers given them by the wireless telegraphy acts, dismantled all private wireless stations; and they established a special system of wireless detection by which any station actually used for the transmission of messages from this country could be discovered. the police have co-operated successfully in this matter with the post office. "new and still more stringent powers for dealing with espionage were given by the defence of the realm act, which was passed by the home secretary through the house of commons and received the royal assent on august . orders-in-council have been made under this act which prohibit, in the widest terms, any attempt on the part either of aliens or of british subjects to communicate any information which is calculated `to be or might be directly or indirectly useful to an enemy'; and any person offending against this prohibition is liable to be tried by court-martial and sentenced to penal servitude for life. the effect of these orders is to make espionage a military offence. power is given both to the police and to the military authorities to arrest without a warrant any person whose behaviour is such as to give rise to suspicion, and any person so arrested by the police would be handed over to the military authorities for trial by court-martial. only in the event of the military authorities holding that there is no prima-facie case of espionage or any other offence tryable by military law is a prisoner handed back to the civil authorities to consider whether he should be charged with failing to register or with any other offence under the aliens restriction act. "the present position is, therefore, that espionage has been made by statute a military offence tryable by court-martial. if tried under the defence of the realm act, the maximum punishment is penal servitude for life; but if dealt with outside that act as a war crime the punishment of death can be inflicted. "at the present moment one case is pending in which a person charged with attempting to convey information to the enemy is now awaiting his trial by court-martial, but in no other case has any clear trace been discovered of any attempt to convey information to the enemy, and there is good reason to believe that the spy organisation crushed at the outbreak of the war has not been re-established. "how completely that system had been suppressed in the early days of the war is clear from the fact--disclosed in a german army order--that on august the german military commanders were still ignorant of the despatch and movements of the british expeditionary force, although these had been known for many days to a large number of people in this country. "the fact, however, of this initial success does not prevent the possibility of fresh attempts at espionage being made, and there is no relaxation in the efforts of the intelligence department and of the police to watch and detect any attempts in this direction. in carrying out their duties, the military and police authorities would expect that persons having information of cases of suspected espionage would communicate the grounds of the suspicion to local military authority or to the local police, who are in direct communication with the special intelligence department, instead of causing unnecessary public alarm, and possibly giving warning to the spies by public speeches or letters to the press. in cases in which the director of public prosecutions has appealed to the authors of such letters and speeches to supply him with the evidence upon which their statements were founded in order that he might consider the question of prosecuting the offender, no evidence of any value has as yet been forthcoming. "among other measures which have been taken has been the registration, by order of the secretary of state, made under the defence of the realm act, of all persons keeping carrier or homing pigeons. the importation and the conveyance by rail of these birds have been prohibited; and, with the valuable assistance of the national homing union, a system of registration has been extended to the whole of the united kingdom, and measures have been taken which it is believed will be effective to prevent the possibility of any birds being kept in this country which would fly to the continent. "another matter which has engaged the closest attention of the police has been the possibility of conspiracies to commit outrage. no trace whatever has been discovered of any such conspiracy, and no outrage of any sort has yet been committed by any alien--not even telegraph-wires having been maliciously cut since the beginning of the war. nevertheless, it has been necessary to bear in mind the possibility that such a secret conspiracy might exist or might be formed among alien enemies resident in this country. "accordingly, immediately after the commencement of hostilities, rigorous search was made by the police in the houses of germans and austrians, in their clubs and in all places where they were likely to resort. in a few cases individuals were found who were in possession of a gun or pistol which they had not declared, and in one or two cases there were small collections of ancient firearms, and in such cases the offenders have been prosecuted and punished; but no store of effective arms--still less any bombs or instruments of destruction--have so far been discovered. "from the beginning, any germans or austrians who were deemed by the police to be likely to be dangerous were apprehended, handed over to the military authorities, and detained as prisoners of war; and, as soon as the military authorities desired it, general action was taken to arrest and hand over to military custody germans of military age, subject to exceptions which have properly been made on grounds of policy. about , germans and austrians of military age have been so arrested, and are held as prisoners of war in detention camps, and among them are included those who are regarded by the police as likely in any possible event to take part in any outbreak of disorder or incendiarism."